Tall, Dark and Cowboy (28 page)

She arched her back and groaned. This was what she needed, what she had to have. Coming close to dying had made her want to live in a new way, experiencing everything, savoring every sensation. His tongue teased her nipple while his lips tugged at it, and she thought she’d explode if he didn’t touch the other one. She wanted him, even more than she’d wanted him in the office, even more than she’d wanted him in the motel, and she wanted him in a new way—rough and hard and fast. She wanted him to take her, own her, but damn if he hadn’t chosen this time to be tender.

Grabbing his hand, she pulled it over her breast and pressed it there, guiding his fingers until they closed around the tight bud and pinched away the unbearable ache.

“Chase, give me
more
.” She cupped her breast and pushed it into his hand until it hurt, tossing her head back and arching her back, opening her body to him in full surrender that asked for nothing and demanded everything. “Please. I need you to touch me
hard.
”

He made a hoarse, helpless sound in his throat and rasped out, “I don’t want to hurt you, Lacey. I can’t ever hurt you.” But what she’d said seemed to push a button somewhere that flicked him from “on” to “high” and suddenly he was all over her, breasts to belly to between her legs, his fingers rough, his tongue and lips greedy. He took what he wanted, tasting and teasing, raking her tender skin to a hot flush.

His breath was harsh, and she could feel him trembling as he struggled to control himself. She knew he wanted what she was offering, wanted to take her fast and hard. She knew he was barely able to keep from shoving himself into her like an animal, and it was a testament to his love that he was trying to be tender. But she let out a growl and pulled his mouth down to hers, letting a deep, swirling, tugging kiss tell him what she wanted, and it seemed to flip a switch that set him loose. He pulled away just long enough to shed his clothes and toss them away, and then his hands cupped her hips and he forced her over, belly down. His teeth grazed the back of her neck as he pushed against her, his erection unbelievably hard, his touch insistent.

She hiked herself up on her knees, offering herself, and he slid against her but not into her, the head of his cock until she pushed back against him and wiggled her hips just right. He slid inside with a sharp intake of breath, then lost all his hard-won scruples and pumped fiercely into her, taking her with no holds barred, no filters, no rules.

She rocked forward and back, forward and back, and finally he reached up and grabbed a fistful of hair and took her like she wanted to be taken, fast and hard and almost brutal. She felt owned and mastered and realized this was the one way she could let a man dominate her—the only way. She’d offer herself this way and slake that need to give herself to a man, and then she’d walk away with all the pieces of herself intact, the need fulfilled, her satisfaction freeing her to find herself.

He tugged her head back and his breath rasped in her ear as he slid home again, his free hand guiding her hips and snugging her hard against him while he pushed himself into her over and over. He stroked her hip, then slid his hand down to stroke the heart of her, his finger slipping over the wet, slick skin until he found the spot,
the
spot
, and rubbed it hard and fast while he fucked her until heat spiraled from her center and plumed inside her like a typhoon wave that knocked her off her feet and tumbled her over and over in an unrelenting sea of love and need that washed away the fear and the caution and every rational thought she’d ever had, freeing her to revel in the feeling of release.

For some reason, the rough, animal joy of it made her love him so hard it hurt, and she almost cried when he stiffened and groaned with his own release.

They slumped together on the bed, exhausted and limp with no secrets possible between them. She turned over and pulled him close, nuzzling into the hollow at the base of his throat, breathing in the scent of him. She felt like she’d broken a code, unlocked a door, and freed herself from prison. Tomorrow she’d wake up to the world with a new kind of strength. She’d find her own way, but she’d always come back to Chase, maybe not right away but someday soon, because eventually the hunger for what he gave her would be too much and she’d need to do this again. And again. And again.

Later, she woke in darkness and felt his hand sliding over her body. Turning in his arms, she kissed him and they made soft, sweet love that was so tender and pure, she vowed to forget it as soon as day came because if she remembered how sweetly he’d touched her, she’d never be able to leave.

In the morning, she eased out of sleep slowly, blinking and confused and exhausted. Chase was beside her, his hand stroking her hair, his eyes on hers and filled with love and promises that made her bolt upright and flail around for cover. She slipped on his shirt while she hunted around for her own clothes, finding her bra hanging on the bedpost, her panties on the floor. He watched her with a half smile on his lips that made her heart ache. She had to go. She had to be herself before she could be his. She tugged on her jeans and tried not to look at him, then left the room without a word.

“We need to talk,” she said over breakfast.

“
You
need to talk,” he said. “I’m fine.”

She stared down at her cereal, determined not to meet his eyes. If she looked at him, she’d give up. She’d stay. She’d link her life with his and never make it on her own. “I don’t know what to do, Chase. I-I shouldn’t stay, but I can’t go.”

“You have to stay,” he said. “I need you. You need me. We’re good together, and you belong here.”

“I don’t belong here,” she said. “I’m not good at this life. If I stay, I’ll just be dependent on you. I need to make a life of my own.”

“You already did.”

She looked up, forgetting her resolution. His gaze was open and honest as ever.

“You don’t depend on me, Lacey. Not now, not ever. Just because we’re together doesn’t mean that I own you.” A grin flashed over his face. “Well, except when we—you know.”

She thought of the night before and flushed.

“This
is
a life of your own, Lacey. You barged in and made it your own, because God knows, you own every inch of me. You’re not giving up. You’re taking over.” He shook his head in wonder. “Look at my life since you got here. I had to fire my only employee. My horse is lame. My kitchen’s suddenly way too big, and that bed in there? Way too wide. I can’t sleep there by myself. Not anymore.”

She stared at him, thoughts tumbling in her mind. She wasn’t quite awake yet. Was he accusing her of something?

She frowned. “It’s not my fault you had to fire Krystal,” she said. “She was the one who screwed…”

He put a firm finger to her lips, looking pained. “Don’t say it. I don’t want to think about it.”

“But I didn’t make her do that.”

“Okay. I’ll give you that. But the rest of it?”

“I don’t know. The horse wasn’t really my fault.”

“Okay, maybe not. But here’s what
I
know. My life was finally in order. I had my land, my house, my business—everything all arranged. Solid. And then you came in here and scrambled it all up.”

“Chase, I didn’t ask you to…”

“Yes, you did. You asked me to help you. And I did.”

He had, she realized. He’d hadn’t just helped her; he’d saved her. And he’d saved her from herself, making her see what she’d become—a limpet, a barnacle, dependent on others for her very survival.

She really did owe him her life. Her new life.

The one she’d made, here at the ranch.

He reached over and took her hands in his.

“You don’t have to stay here, Lacey. You’re free to go wherever you want. But I was thinking maybe you’d want to go to Grady.”

She thought of Cody, of Pam, of Annie. Galt, too. Her new makeshift family of friends. “I do want that.”

“So go. Go to Grady every day. But come home to me at the end of it.”

She shook her head. “But the horses, Chase. The whole ranching thing. I’m just not cut out for that.”

“And I’m not cut out for a life in town. That’s what makes it so perfect.”

She went back to her cereal, stirring the sodden flakes into the milk. She didn’t see how leading completely incompatible lives made anything perfect.

“Lots of ranch wives work in town. And I need somebody to run the car lot.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Look, I know it’s not what you want for the rest of your life. But you could go to school too. Cheyenne’s not that far. You can get that real estate license, and by the time you’re ready to start selling houses, you’ll have practiced on the cars. Everybody here will know you. Love you. You’ll be the heart of the whole town. Really, Lacey, you will.”

She looked up at him. The car lot. She could do that. She’d gotten so accustomed to being a prisoner at the ranch, she’d forgotten there were other options—better ones. Working at the car lot would be the kind of job she’d imagined. She’d keep things organized, make decisions, help people. She’d matter—and at the end of the day, she’d come home to Chase.

After school. She wasn’t going to let that go again. She was going to make sure it happened.

But it would all still depend on Chase. On a man.

“Chase, I’m not selling myself to a man again. Not even you.”

“You’re not selling yourself to me. Hell, I’ll sell myself to you if it’ll help.” He grinned. “My heart and soul, for more nights like that.” He reached over and took her hand, his tone softening. “Remember that night we looked at the stars?”

She turned away, as if there was something captivating happening outside the side window. “Yes.”

“Remember the next day, when I said I always used to wonder how they looked from Tennessee?”

She nodded, turning slowly to look at him.

“I lied. That wasn’t what I was wondering. What I was wondering was how they looked to you. I used to think maybe you were looking up at the same stars, and feel like maybe that was a link between us. It wasn’t much of a link, but it was something.”

She blinked, slowly, as if she was having trouble absorbing what he was saying. “But you hated me. When you recognized me, you looked at me like I was the Antichrist.”

“I was scared.”

She remembered how he’d looked, tall and brawny, with his arms folded across his chest and that arrogant up-and-down stare. “Scared of what?”

“Scared you’d take away my world again.”

“Chase, it wasn’t me. It was my husband.” She clenched her fists. “My
ex-husband
. I had nothing to do with your father losing the farm. I did
not
take away your world.”

“
You
were my world. And you kissed me, and then you married someone else.”

Lacey stared at him. “I kissed you?”

He looked away. “That night I drove you home from a party. You were drunk.”

Oh, shit. No wonder he’d thought she was a slut.
“I’m—oh my God. Chase, I don’t even remember.”

“That explains a lot. Like why you married Trent even though—it was a great kiss, Lacey. Pretty much the highlight of my life.” He smiled and shook his head. “Pathetic, I know.”

She wondered how a man who could speak so directly could have nursed a secret love all these years and never said a word, never tried to contact her. The fact that he’d tried to push her away when she’d walked back into his life just showed how much she’d hurt him.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“You married Trent.”

“But before that…”

“I guess I’m not much for words,” he said. “But I was there for you, wasn’t I? When you needed me, like with Wade, didn’t you ever notice I was always looking out for you? I never stopped thinking about you.”

She smiled. “If you weren’t such a nice guy, that would be creepy.”

He laughed. “I guess it would.”

She looked down at her lap. “I feel bad that I didn’t know. That I didn’t think about you. If I’d known…”

“But you did think about me.”

“When I needed help.”

“That’s all I want, Lacey. I just want to be the one you turn to.”

“You are,” she said. “You always were. It just took me a really long time to turn.”

***

A month later, Lacey found herself tugging awkwardly on Captain’s reins, struggling to steer him around the first turn in the homemade barrel racing course Chase had put up for Annie. The horse veered to the left, and she overcorrected, steering him too far to the right. They were reeling around the ring like a couple of drunks.

Annie swallowed a giggle as the normally cooperative Captain stopped dead and laid his ears back, finally fed up with his rookie rider’s conflicting signals.

“You’re doing fine, Aunt Lacey,” she said. “Just think, you used to be scared of horses. And now you’re a barrel racer.”

“Not really.” Lacey straightened in the saddle and poked Captain with her heels, urging him on. He plodded toward the barrel at a slow walk. “I’m not breaking any records here.”

“No, but you’re doing it,” Annie said. “Now rein him to the right.”

Lacey slanted the left rein against the horse’s neck and managed to steer him around the barrel in a reasonably tight circle.

“See? You’re doing good.”

Lacey poked Captain with her heels again, since he’d stopped to wait for her command. She suspected he could run the course perfectly on his own, but her riding was so bad he couldn’t figure out what she wanted. He took her to the next barrel and dutifully plodded around it, then followed the standard cloverleaf pattern to circle the third. He would have done it just as well with no rider at all.

“This is the fun part! Now spur for home!” Annie crowed.

But Captain didn’t need spurring. This was apparently his favorite part of the race too. Lacey felt his muscles bunch beneath the saddle, and he shot off like a cork from a popgun, stretching out and flying for the gate while she hung on to the horn. Only after they’d passed through the gate did she manage to pull him to a stop.

“You did it, Aunt Lacey! That was awesome!” Annie ran up and took the reins, leading the horse to the hitching rail. “It was fun, right? You don’t even think about falling anymore.”

Lacey arched her leg over the horse’s rump and lowered herself to the ground. Annie was right. She’d kind of enjoyed the run, the way she used to enjoy cheer stunts. Falling wasn’t really so bad. There was always a way to pick yourself up and start over, a way to gather the reins and take control again.

She watched Chase step out of the barn and into the sunlight, a battered hat shading his eyes. He was all cowboy now, spending all his days on the ranch and even managing a growing herd for Galt. Lacey’s cowgirl learning curve was a long, hard-won slope, but the car lot was thriving under her care, especially now that she’d hired away one of Jeb’s mechanics to help out in the evenings while she drove down to Cheyenne for school. Jeb had hired Krystal back and she’d become a combination receptionist/bridezilla as they prepared for their wedding.

“Uncle Chase is going to be so proud of you.” Annie hauled the saddle off the horse’s back and set it on the fence rail, then lifted the big horse’s hooves one by one, clutching them between her knees as she cleaned them with a pick.

“I didn’t do it for Uncle Chase,” Lacey said. “I did it for me.”

Chase strolled over and slung an arm around her shoulder, tugging at a lock of hair that spilled out from under her rakishly tilted cowboy hat.

“I know,” he said. “That’s what makes me so proud.”

The End