The All-Star Antes Up (Wager of Hearts #2) (24 page)

She’d just had two orgasms in an elevator with the most amazing man she’d ever met. If the night ended right now, she could say it was a good one. Instead, it stretched in front of her with all its exhilarating possibilities. Her body hummed with satisfaction and anticipation. She would not think about the fact that this was the end.

When he disappeared through a door, she turned to admire the huge photographs of cowboys hanging on the foyer walls. They were shot as silhouettes against skies of brilliant blue and white or sunset orange and gold. A photo of two cowboys walking side by side, carrying their saddles, drew her closer. One man looked tough and experienced, while the other appeared slight and untested. The older man walked a step in front of the younger, as though he was both leading the way and protecting his companion.

It made her think of Luke and his brother, and sadness for the two men washed through her.

The thud of Luke’s boot heels interrupted her reverie. He held up an extralarge plaid flannel shirt. “This will look better on you than me.”

“Was this originally part of your outfit?” she asked, turning to slip her arms into the sleeves as he held it for her. The fabric was so soft she knew it had been worn and laundered many times.

“Maybe.”

As she pulled the shirt closed in front of her one-handed, he tugged at the jeans she still held against her. “Hey, I’m not sure I want to give those up,” she said.

He disarmed her by skimming one palm down her thigh to the edge of the shirttail, where he let his fingertips play over her skin. “I like seeing your legs bare and knowing what else is bare under there.”

Little circles of sensation rippled out from his touch. She loosened her hold on the jeans, and he whisked them out of her hand. She needed to remember those athlete’s reflexes of his. As she buttoned the shirt, she felt a thrill at the knowledge that the soft cotton now brushing her naked body had also touched his. She wished she could keep it to wear when tonight was just a memory.

She looked up to find his gaze following the path of her fingers down the front of the shirt. He reached out to flick a button free so her cleavage was fully exposed. “Much better,” he said, his eyes burning even bluer.

“For whom?”

He traced a line from the hollow of her throat down between her breasts, making her nipples harden. “I’d say for both of us.”

She said with only a slight hitch in her voice, “I’d like to see your place first.”

“First?” His drawl thickened. “What were you thinking would come second?”

She did her best to look provocative, not something she attempted often. “Both of us.”

“If you talk like that, you’re going to get the speed tour.” He laced his fingers with hers and pulled her toward a doorway across the foyer.

“Just a minute.” She planted her boots. “Can you tell me about these photos? Are they from Texas?”

Pleasure overlaid the arousal in his expression. “They’re by a Swiss photographer named Hannes Schmid.”

“It’s ironic that a European would make such great cowboy pictures.”

“Not really,” he said, his gaze on the silhouette of a cowboy herding horses through dust-laden sunlight. “The Europeans I’ve met buy into the whole myth of the American West even more than Americans do.”

She remembered an elderly Englishman who had visited friends in the Pinnacle. He had asked her to arrange a day trip to Montana to see an Indian reservation. When she explained the distance involved, he’d been hugely disappointed. Pulling Luke over to the photograph she’d been admiring earlier, she watched his face as she said, “This one made me think of you and your brother.”

His lips tightened. She’d expected the anger, but under it lay a profound well of pain. “I tried to call him. He didn’t pick up.”

“Because he’s embarrassed about last night.” She flexed her fingers against his in comfort.

“Or he’s sulking.” His voice was flat.

“Did you choose this photo because of Trevor?”

He made a gesture of uncharacteristic uncertainty with his free hand. “The decorator gave me a bunch of choices, and I marked the ones I liked.”

So it might have been subconscious.

He stared at it. “One cowboy looks older, tougher. Tired.”

“Yet he seems to be both leading and protecting the other one.”

Luke shrugged. “Could be.”

Miranda reached up and turned his face toward her. “Your brother will figure out how much he would lose if he stays away. And I don’t mean luxury boxes and fancy parties. I mean
you
. It’s a precious thing, the love of a brother.”

“When you say it, I almost believe it.” He turned his head to kiss her palm before he took her hand in his. “But Trevor resents me for reasons I can’t change.”

Luke looked around the foyer with the high-priced art photos hanging on the custom-papered walls. “I didn’t go after all this. I just put my head down and worked like a dog at football. I didn’t think about how it would affect my family. My friends.” He turned his gaze back to her. “My lovers.”

“No one believes that success comes with a price. Until it’s time to pay.” Orin was exacting payment from her now.

“Most people think I’m whining.” His face was somber. “Or faking it so I’ll look like a regular guy.”

She decided to lighten the mood. “I’m afraid you’ll never look like a regular guy. It’s just not in your genes.”

That brought light back into his eyes. “I thought I looked good in my jeans.”

“You look even better out of them.”

“Lady, you just delayed your tour by an hour or so.” He snaked his arm around her waist and hustled her into a huge living room that had one full wall made of glass. She had a quick glimpse of the lights of the Verrazano Bridge before Luke pressed her down on a room-filling sectional sofa covered in butter-soft tan leather. It reminded her of a well-worn saddle.

He took off his hat and knelt in front of her. “Sweetheart, I want to taste you. You good with that?”

His words sent a rush of desire prickling over her skin. It amazed her that he always asked permission. He never assumed that she wanted the same thing he did, and he never used the strength of his body or the steel of his will to compel her.

She looked into his eyes, now on the same level as hers, and marveled at the change from ice to fire. She leaned forward to comb her fingers through his hair, slightly mussed from the Stetson, and let them drift down to his shoulders. As she traced his muscles with her fingertips, she caught the intake of his breath. “I won’t say no to a hungry man,” she said, leaning forward to brush her lips against his.

Without breaking the kiss, he came forward to push her back onto the cushions. He lifted his head and ran his hands down the front of her shirt, dragging them over her hard nipples to make her gasp, before he palmed her thighs and pushed them apart. She felt a moment’s embarrassment as he just stared down between her legs, his eyelids heavy and his jaw tight with the control of a man trying to take it slow.

He moved suddenly, lowering his mouth to lick the sensitive spot he’d exposed. As intense sensation speared through her, she closed her eyes and left thought behind. His tongue flicked and pressed and thrust, making her rock against him as she moaned and gasped, his touch driving fire through every inch of her body.

He hooked his hands behind her knees and pulled her closer to the edge of the cushions, lifting her legs to crook over his shoulders. He slid his big hands between the leather and her bottom, cupping and lifting her so she was open more fully to his mouth. She bucked in his grip as the heat and pressure of his teeth and tongue and lips wound the tension to a fever pitch low in her body.

“Not so fast, sugar,” he murmured, the huff of his breath against her highly sensitized clitoris making her buck again. “I want you to feel it all the way into your bones when you come.”

“My bones are already sizzling.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He flexed his fingers into the curve of her backside, curling them into the cleft and making her jump at the extra stimulation. He kept going, sliding one finger into the hot, slick longing inside her from behind.

“Ahhhhhh,” she moaned as the satisfaction of finally being filled rolled through her. He withdrew and slid two fingers in, stretching her with glorious pressure. “Yessssss.”

“You feel so good,” he breathed against her as he pushed his fingers farther inside her. “Like hot, wet silk wrapped around my fingers.”

“Please,” she said, grabbing the edge of the cushion so she could pulse her hips in supplication. She was almost there.

“When a lady asks so nicely—” He twisted his fingers inside her, the unexpected sharpness of the motion sending a shock wave through her. Then he flicked her clit with the tip of his tongue and set off the explosion that had been building. Her blood ignited, and her muscles wrenched into an orgasm so extreme that she arched upward and clamped her thighs around his head to survive it.

She heard a shriek of near pain and realized it was hers as her insides seemed to shatter and liquefy in the overwhelming release.

He lapped at her as she convulsed, sending her up and over another peak. She could feel her muscles squeezing around his fingers, responding to the penetration with power. She rode the wave until it collapsed into a series of exhausted tremors.

“No more,” she whispered as her muscles softened and released.

He eased his fingers out of her and angled forward to slide her knees off his shoulders. As she sagged down onto the cushions, he swung her around so she lay fully on the couch, the shirt bunched up around her waist and her arms flung over her head with spent abandon.

Closing her eyes, she let out a long sigh as pure contentment sluiced through every cell in her body.

She felt his lips on her inner wrist, a delicate brush against her skin. It was so tender, tears burned behind her eyelids.
Luke
was the only word she could muster.

“Too much?”

She rolled her head back and forth on the couch in a strong negative. “Perfect, but mind-blowing. And nerve-blowing. And muscle-blowing.”

The couch sank under her, and the leather of his chaps brushed the bared skin of her hip. “You taste as good as you look,” he said.

She let her lips curve into a smile, but she kept her eyes shut. The intimacy and power of what he’d done made her oddly shy about meeting his gaze. She was afraid of what she might reveal about how he made her feel.

“You look like you’re falling asleep. I promised you a bed for that.”

His weight shifted, and she forced her eyes open, putting her hand against his chest to stop him from moving. He was looking down at her with banked desire, his tousled hair falling forward around his face. “I’m not sleepy,” she said. “I’m just coming down from the mountaintop.”

He feathered his fingers through the hair at her temple. “Take your time on the descent, sugar.”

She followed a tendon up the side of his neck. “You are the most generous lover.” His pulse beat beneath her fingers, and she marveled at the strength of it.

He gave her a wicked smile. “I’ve learned that generosity gets repaid in spades.”

“So it’s pure self-interest on your part?”

“Let’s just say that having you come against my mouth and around my fingers is not torture for me.”

“Thank goodness! I’d hate to think you’d sacrificed yourself for my gratification.”

“Are you sassin’ me, woman? Because that is a dangerous thing to do in your position.” He ran his hand down her body to the side of her bare behind and gave it a gentle smack. His smile evaporated into a look of such heat she thought her skin might burst into flames.

She tilted her head to check the swell of his erection under his jeans and thought of how it would feel inside her. All the nerve endings she’d thought were too wiped out to respond came roaring back to life. She grabbed his shoulder to pull herself into a sitting position. “Time for me to ride you, cowboy.”

“No rush. We have all night.” But his eyes went even hotter.

The prospect of what they could do with all that time sent a thrill through her. Followed by another stab of regret that it would be their last.

“But we have a lot to accomplish, so maybe we should get going.” She skimmed her fingers down over his steely pecs to circle his nipple.

He started to move, but she scrambled to her feet first. Putting both hands on his shoulders, she used her weight to keep him seated on the sofa. Or rather, he allowed her to keep him there. “My turn to ride,” she said.

“You sure you aren’t saddle sore, cowgirl?”

Her answer was to unbuckle the waistband of his chaps.

“Yee haw,” he said, helping her yank off his boots, chaps, and jeans in rapid succession. He retrieved a condom from his jeans pocket and kicked the pile of clothes away.

As he leaned back against the leather cushions, she luxuriated in the full glory of his naked body, letting her gaze trail down over the mass of his shoulders, across the gilt-dusted planes of his chest, along the laddered ridges of his abs, and past the tower of his cock. She traced along the ridges of his thigh muscles and drifted down his powerful calves to the strong arches of his bare feet planted squarely on the floor.

“Yee haw is right,” she said, stunned as always by how beautiful and male he was.

He was watching her under half-closed eyelids. “Darlin’, you looking was almost as good as you actually touching me. But not quite.” He sat forward and seized the front of her shirt to pull her closer. “This needs to come off,” he said, flicking the buttons out of the flannel and shoving it off her shoulders.

His hands were on her breasts, lifting them and rolling his thumbs over the nipples. She swayed on her high-heeled boots as electric desire sparked through her. Seeing her totter, he brought his hands to her waist to steady her, his thumbs nearly touching at her navel.

She stepped forward so she stood straddling his legs. “I think I need to sit down.”

He reached for the condom.

“Not yet.” She bent her knees and sank onto the steel girders of his thighs, reveling in the feel of his strength under her backside. Taking his cock in both hands, she stroked up and down the hard column.