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  He brought her gently back to earth, kissing the inside of her thighs and then her belly, her breasts, her throat, and at last, her mouth.

  She gazed up at him, barely able to speak. “Thank…you.”

  “Seemed like you deserved to start off that way.” He looked down at her with tenderness and combed her hair away from her damp forehead with his fingers. “But now I’m interested in what you did with the box I gave you.”

  “I have…no idea.” Once the kissing had started, she’d tossed it somewhere. “I hope it’s not in the fire.”

  “You and me both.” He glanced around. “There.” After picking up the box, he opened it one-handed and shook out a condom, which landed between her breasts. His eyes sparkled. “What a great pendant that would make.”

  “An open invitation.”

  “Especially if you wore it and nothing else.” He leaned down and circled her nipple with his tongue.

  That was all it took for her to get wound up again. Her breath caught. “I thought you wanted to put on that little raincoat.”

  “I will.” He sucked gently on her nipple.

  “I’m turning into one throbbing nerve ending.”

  He lifted his head and switched to her other breast. “Good.” Nuzzling and licking, he made her breasts quiver and her nipples tighten.

  In the process he created havoc with her pulse rate. An ache grew inside her, one that needed more than another climax. This was the primitive kind of ache, the urge that demanded penetration. She’d never felt it quite this strongly before.

  She closed her eyes and pictured the glory of his penis. She wanted to experience that glory. “If you don’t put that condom on, I’m going to do it for you. And I’m not very good at it.”

  He gave her breast one last swipe with his tongue. “Fortunately, I am.” Then he picked up the packet with his teeth and sat back on the edge of the cushion to tear it open.

  She lifted her head so she could watch. True to his word, he was quick with a condom. She was reminded of a rodeo cowboy tying the legs of a steer with a pigging string and holding up his hands for time. She almost expected Clint to do that once the condom was in place.

  “You are fast,” she said when he glanced up to find her checking him out.

  His smile was filled with male confidence as he moved between her thighs, poised for his first thrust. “I’ve been told it’s not nice to keep a lady waiting. Too much time spent on that latex is time wasted.”

  “You’ve been told right. I hate waiting.”

  “And here I am.” He probed her moist center, finding entry, sliding in a fraction.

  “That’s it.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and lifted her hips in his direction. “Come on and give me a ride, cowboy.”

  His eyes widened. “I’m not—”

  “Never mind.” The words had slipped out because she was so sure, so very sure, that he was, indeed, a cowboy.

  “Meg, I—”

  Damn. She hadn’t meant to start a discussion. “I know what. Why don’t you see if you can make me forget I ever said that?”

  “Sounds like a plan.” He pushed deep.

  Exactly. Exactly that. She hadn’t known how much she’d craved having him inside her until he was there, stroking with steady intent. In seconds, she was oblivious to anything but the breathless climb to another shattering orgasm. He might be a cowboy. He might not. In the midst of such delirious joy, she didn’t care.

  7

  CLINT HAD TAKEN hold of a whirlwind. Here he was, in the male-dominant position, the one that supposedly guaranteed the most control of this event, and he had no control whatsoever. Oh, he could hold back his orgasm. That wasn’t as difficult as he had thought it would be when he’d first entered her and felt her warmth pulsing around him.

  But his emotions were totally out of control. As he looked into those gorgeous brown eyes, he wanted to say things to her—significant things that had no business being part of this experience.

  He wanted to tell her that he felt connected to another human being for the first time in his life. Sex was about satisfaction, but this…this touched him on a different level. He hadn’t expected that.

  As he thrust rhythmically, he was acutely aware of her, as if he’d climbed inside her mind at the same moment he’d penetrated her body. He swore he could tell what she was thinking, and that she was as rattled by this emotional jolt as he was.

  “Meg.” Saying her name was all he could allow himself. But he put a world of feeling into that one syllable.

  “I’m here.”

  “I know. Me, too.” Maybe that was it. They were both completely there. His every sense was alert. His ears hummed with the crackle of the fire and the sound of her breath. His nose filled with the scent of wood smoke and the tang of arousal. His mouth savored the taste of her kisses. And crowning each of those sensations was the unbelievable pleasure he felt each time he buried his penis deep in her quivering vagina.

  Her smile trembled. “So perfect.”

  She’d said more than he’d dared. “Yes.” His orgasm moved closer with sweet inevitability. There was no strain to bring it on, no pressure to hold it back. He would come, and so would she. And the moment would be effortless.

  “This is like…dancing.”

  With someone I’ve known all my life. He nodded, because he couldn’t tell her that.

  Without conscious thought he pumped faster, and she flowed into the new rhythm without hesitation. He’d never believed that two people could truly feel as if they had become one. He’d chalked that up to some poet’s fantasy.

  With Meg, it was reality.

  “Clint….” She turned his name, a name that had always seemed to have such hard edges, into a gentle caress.

  “Almost there.” But he didn’t really need to speak at all. They both knew exactly where they were, hovering on the brink of a mutual climax with the power to change what they believed about themselves, what they thought about each other.

  Maybe if he’d known this could happen, he’d have found the strength to refuse her. Discovering something so amazing and knowing it couldn’t last was a cruel joke. But he couldn’t stop the avalanche now.

  “Hang on,” he murmured.

  “As tight as I can.” Her eyes grew bright.

  “Here we go.” Closing his eyes would be some protection, but he couldn’t do it. Having gone this far, he wanted everything.

  Her pupils widened and she dug her fingers into his back. And she didn’t look away.

  Blood rushed in his ears as the first wave crashed over him. He kept going, holding her gaze as fiercely as she held his, matching her cry for cry. He watched her through each surge, watched the flush of orgasm glide up over her breasts, her throat, her face as he poured himself into her with a force that left him breathless.

  He held her gaze as the quivering slowly subsided and they both struggled to breathe. He would not take the cowardly way out and look away. Whatever had happened between them, he would have the courage to face it.

  For a long while her eyes reflected only wonder. Then her expression changed, and he saw the one emotion he didn’t want there—regret.

  He leaned down and kissed her mouth, her cheeks, her forehead. “Hey, none of that.”

  “I didn’t know. I had no idea.”

  “Neither of us knew.” He looked into her eyes again. “We only planned on having a little fun.”

  “It was more than that.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She was silent for several long moments. “Now what?”

  “You already know the answer.” He smiled at her, touched that she even had doubts about what came next. “You’ll go on with your life and I’ll go on with mine. That was the deal before, and it’s still the deal.”

  She cupped his face in her hands. “Can you stand it?”

  “Yes. Because that’s the way it has to be. I don’t want your life, and you don’t want mine.” He landed a kiss on the tip of her n
ose. “Crummy TV reception in Sonoita, remember?”

  “You’re a cowboy, aren’t you?”

  He kissed his way along her jawline and gave a little tug on her earlobe. “I don’t know what being a cowboy has to do with the price of jalapeños.”

  “That’s why you wouldn’t want my life. You need the wide-open spaces.”

  He lifted his head to gaze down at her. Continuing to play games made no sense anymore. “Yeah, I suppose I’m a cowboy.”

  “I knew it.” She ran her hands along his shoulders. “You have too many muscles to be a business consultant. And I’ll bet you got this scar doing something cowboyish.”

  “Something dumbish. Got crosswise of a very irritated Brahma. I barely made it under the barbed-wire fence in time. The bull didn’t get me, but the fence did.”

  She traced the uneven line of the scar. “Why didn’t you want me to know you were a cowboy?”

  “I’m sure you can figure that one out, too.”

  “You didn’t want to be on TV?”

  “Bingo.”

  She cradled his face again and studied him earnestly. “You would be awesome on TV.”

  “Don’t even go there, pretty girl. I’ve told you the truth, and you have to promise not to use it against me.”

  She opened her mouth, as if to argue with him.

  “No.” He gave her a quick, hard kiss, as if that would put the lid on the matter. He hoped to hell it would. This discussion had been a good thing, reminding him of how far apart they were, lessening the effect of the moment they’d just shared. “And now that we have that settled, we’re back to figuring out our next move.”

  She looked into his eyes for several long seconds. “Would it be better if I spent the rest of the night in my own room?”

  “I suppose that would be the sensible thing.”

  “Then I’ll do that.” Taking a deep breath, she gave him a brave smile. “Let me up and I’ll be on my way.”

  He didn’t move. “You didn’t ask me if I wanted to be sensible.”

  “Oh.” The brave smile wavered as she searched his expression. “You don’t?”

  “No. But that’s just me. You get a vote, too. If you want to play it safe, I wouldn’t blame you a bit. I’ll let you go and promise not to sneak into your bed during the night to try to change your mind.”

  Her smile returned. “Maybe I’d be the one sneaking into your bed. I have to say if we make a pact to keep our hands to ourselves from now on, it’s going to be a very long night.”

  “That would be true.” He couldn’t imagine how he’d make it, knowing she was in a room right down the hall. “So what do you think?”

  “I think…” She paused.

  Impatient though he was for her final verdict, he reminded himself that dramatic pauses were likely her stock-in-trade. He didn’t want to rush her when he had a fair idea what her decision would be.

  “I think we should keep doing this.”

  His triumph was bittersweet. Short-term pleasure, long-term heartache. The key to surviving would be to establish a playful mood and avoid the heavy stuff. “Define what you mean by keep doing this. Do you mean lying here in front of the fire having a conversation?”

  She reached down and pinched his butt. “I mean having a mutual-orgasm fest, and you know it.”

  “Just wanted to be clear.” Looked like she’d taken his cue to keep things light, just as she’d kept up with him perfectly as they’d roared together to a climax. They were beautifully matched. Dammit.

  “Then let me be even more clear. I want to have a superduper boinkathon. I want to keep doing it ‘til the cows come home.”

  He pretended to think about that. “That could be a really long event, because we don’t have any more cows on the Circle W. You could be waiting quite a while for one to wander into the barn.”

  “I knew that.” She grinned at him. “It’s all part of my plan to enslave your virile body.”

  “In that case, maybe we’d better eat more of José’s enchiladas, to keep up our strength.”

  “Naked?”

  He winked at her. “Absolutely.”

  CLINT INSISTED on heating up the enchiladas, even though Meg would have been happy to eat them at room temperature. She usually had meals on the run, and she rarely ate anything exciting, so she’d given up worrying about the quality of her food. Because Clint had José, he was spoiled rotten. She wondered what it would be like to live here and eat José’s cooking all the time. She’d turn into a hippo, no doubt, unless she worked off the calories having lots of sex.

  After Clint poked at the fire until he seemed convinced that no sparks would escape while they were gone, he invited her into the kitchen while he heated up the food. She carried their glasses of beer while he brought the pan of enchiladas.

  She imagined that heating up the enchiladas wouldn’t take more than a few minutes in the microwave. Then they could return to their cozy spot in the living room. But to her amazement, Clint turned on the oven and stuck the pan inside.

  “Aren’t you going to nuke them?” She glanced around the kitchen to locate the appliance she couldn’t live without. Well, not counting the vibrator in her bedroom, of course.

  “José doesn’t believe in them.” Clint closed the oven door and picked up the beer she’d set on the counter for him.

  She leaned against the counter, which was tiled in the same bright pattern as the bathroom counter. “Then I’ll make an educated guess that you don’t have a month’s supply of frozen dinners in the freezer.” As she did.

  “That would be a good guess.” He picked up his beer, took a swallow and grimaced. “This is both warm and flat.” He poured it down the sink. “Yours must be the same.” He reached for the glass she was holding.

  “No, mine’s just fine!” She held it away from him. Assuming the Circle W was on a tight budget, she wasn’t about to waste whatever was given to her.

  “Can’t be fine. Yours sat out there as long as mine did.” He pinned her to the counter with his hips and got his hand around the top of her glass. “Let me get rid of it and pour you a new one.”

  “No.” She tightened her grip on the glass, but wiggled her hips and cupped his tush with her free hand. “However, I like your method of intimidation a lot.”

  “You’re using your feminine wiles on me so I won’t take your beer, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe. And judging from the response I’m getting, my wiles are working great. I think you’ve almost forgotten about the beer.”

  “Have not.” He wrapped his other arm around her waist and started tickling her.

  She squirmed, protesting even as she giggled helplessly. “No fair! I’m going to pinch you if you don’t stop!”

  “Go ahead. I like it when you pinch me. It gets me hot.” He continued to tickle her as he tried to pry the beer loose. “Ouch! That was a serious pinch!”

  “Warned you!” She couldn’t remember when she’d last wrestled with a naked man. She was having way too much fun. “I’ll stop pinching you when you stop tickling me. And let go of my beer, dammit!”

  “I’m gonna get your beer whether you like it or not.” He was breathing hard. “Pinch away.”

  “You asked for it.” But when she tried for a better grip on his fanny, he managed to get the beer glass away from her. As she let go, he jerked the glass toward him and splattered the contents down her front and his.

  The cool liquid made her skin tingle and her nipples tighten. “Whoo-hoo! I don’t know what you’re talking about! That beer is definitely not warm!”

  He put down the glass, stood back and surveyed the beer dripping from her breasts. “If it wasn’t warm before, but I’ll bet it is now. You’re a mess. Allow me to take care of that for you.” He swooped down to lap the beer from her skin.

  She started laughing. “Hey, I thought you didn’t like warm beer.”

  “I guess it’s all in the delivery system.” He continued to clean her with broad swipes of his tong
ue. “I’d drink lighter fluid if it came packaged like this.”

  Watching him lick her with such enthusiasm was turning her on, plus it gave her an outstanding idea. The beer had anointed him, too, landing on a certain projecting part of his anatomy. Still, she didn’t think he was wet enough to justify what she had in mind.

  Taking the glass from the counter, she tapped him on the shoulder. “Uh, Clint?”

  “What?” He lifted his head.

  “There’s some beer left in the glass. Want me to pour it out?”

  His eyes sparkled with lust. “Yeah. Pour it, baby. I need a good excuse to keep this up a while longer. Maybe it’ll drip farther down this time.”

  She could imagine what fun that might be, but she had a different concept in mind. “Okay.” Instead of pouring it on herself, she tilted the glass so the stream of beer cascaded over his penis on its way to the floor. “Whoops. Missed.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” He leaned toward her breasts again. “I can make do with whatever is left.”

  “No, no. Let me handle this.” Dropping to her knees, she ran her tongue slowly around the tip of his penis where droplets of beer had gathered.

  He groaned. “Okay, I get it.”

  “Hold still and you just might.” She glanced up at him. “To think you poured your warm beer down the drain.”

  “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Me, either.” And she began to lick him clean. She did a complete, detail-oriented job, and to make certain that she got all the beer off, she drew him deep into her mouth and sucked vigorously. One couldn’t be too thorough when cleaning up one’s messes.

  He hung onto the counter and moaned. Then he began to shake. “Meg, you need to…stop.”

  She didn’t feel like it. Having him completely in her power was exhilarating and stopping wasn’t an option she wanted to consider. Besides, his request had sounded on the halfhearted side. Chances were he didn’t mean it.

  On that assumption, she kept going. If he wanted her to stop, he’d ask again. Surprise, surprise, he didn’t. Instead his groans became louder and his shudders more intense. She had him now.