A Cowboy's Heart (The McGavin Brothers Book 4) Read online

“Yes, I really like her.”

  “And you have condoms, I hope? Gotta have those little raincoats.”

  “As a matter of fact, I do, smartass. Bought them today at Pills and Pop.” He hadn’t purchased that item in more than a year, either.

  Mike clapped him on the shoulder. “Then you’re all set. Nicole likes you a lot, too. These kinds of things are never guaranteed to work out, but I consider your chances of success are extremely high.”

  “Thanks.” Funny how that conversation and Mike’s vote of confidence steadied him. Last night he’d tried to convince Nicole that she wasn’t ready for this step, but judging from his behavior he wasn’t any more ready than she was. He would be, though. He was a lucky SOB to have a woman like Nicole interested in him and he wouldn’t blow it.

  Once the band packed up their instruments and the crowd walked out into the cool night, one customer remained. Bryce sent Mike home, and his assistant bartender had the nerve to give him thumbs up on his way out. He hoped Nicole hadn’t seen that.

  At long last everyone was gone. Nicole continued to sit at her table, which he found interesting. He locked the front door before walking over and pulling out a chair. “Sometimes my customers just hate to leave the GG.”

  She didn’t look at him. “I can understand that. It’s a warm, inviting environment.” Then she turned the full force of her blue-eyed gaze on him. “Then there’s the manager. He has a way of making everyone feel welcome, valuable, cherished.”

  Lust slammed into him, stealing his breath.

  “Will you please take me upstairs and make love to me, Bryce McGavin?”

  He dragged air into his tight chest. “Hell, yes.”

  Chapter Ten

  And that was how it worked. Just ask for what you want. Who knew? Nicole’s heart beat in triple time as Bryce led her to the foot of the stairs and unhooked the rope barring their way.

  She’d spent way too many years waiting for someone, especially the men in her life, to give her what she wanted. Because she had no history with Bryce, it was the perfect time to turn over a new leaf. He’d not only said yes, he’d ushered her up the stairs with an eagerness that matched hers. She could tell by his breathing.

  At the landing, he edged past her to unlock the apartment door. She stepped through it and knew he’d been expecting her. The lights were dim and the place was spotless. It had been neat before, but now every surface gleamed and she picked up the subtle aroma of lemon oil.

  She turned just as he kicked the door shut and sent his hat sailing. “This is very—” She didn’t get to finish. His hungry mouth covered hers with an urgency that sent heat spiraling through her. She’d anticipated this moment ever since last night when she’d made an impromptu decision to put him in a lip-lock. Evidently when the kiss was his idea, the interaction got hot even faster. Fine with her.

  Sliding her fingers through his hair, she clutched the back of his head for balance as he ravished her mouth.

  Then he paused, breathing hard, and leaned his forehead against hers. “I’m rushing. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I like it.”

  He gulped for air. “But this is only our second kiss.”

  “And it’s a doozy.”

  “I need to slow the tempo. Whisper sweet nothings in your ear.”

  “You can skip that.” She tried to pull him into a kiss but he resisted.

  “You don’t want to hear sweet nothings? I thought most women—”

  “Not me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they lack originality.”

  He looked amused. “Give me an example.”

  She switched to her drama-class voice. “Your eyes shine like stars! Your skin feels like satin! Your lips taste like cherries!” She batted her eyelashes at him. “See what I mean?”

  He started laughing. She must have tickled his funny bone because once he started he couldn’t seem to stop. He let her go until he caught his breath and finished wiping tears from his eyes. He cleared his throat. “I said that exact thing to a girl in eighth grade. I’ll have you know she loved it.”

  “Of course she did. She was thirteen.” She peered at him. “Are you still using those lines?“

  “Come here.” He pulled her gently into his arms and kissed her forehead. Then he framed her face in his big hands and gazed at her. “Nicole, your eyes shine like—”

  “You’re gonna do it, aren’t you?”

  He smiled. “Nicole, your eyes shine like deep pools of blue curacao darkened with a tiny splash of blackberry liqueur. Your lips are sweeter than cherry brandy warmed by the flame of my pocket lighter. Your skin is—”

  “Are you going to kiss me or what?”

  His blue eyes sparkled. “I’m getting there. Your skin is softer than the blossoms that drift in a glass of wild rose petal sangria. And your voice is like—”

  She groaned. “Enough. I don’t care what my voice is like.”

  “I do.” He leaned down and feathered a kiss over her mouth. “It’s the sexiest thing about you.”

  “You just think so because you haven’t experienced the rest of me.”

  “Even when I do…” He dropped another kiss on her lips. “Your voice will still seduce me like nothing else. Your voice is aged bourbon so smooth that you don’t want to add a single thing. It’s good all by itself, straight up.” He lowered his head, aligned his mouth with hers, and took the kiss deep.

  She was lost, caught up in the sensual whirlpool he created. Maybe he had been rushing things earlier and after taking a break, he’d hit his stride. Before his kiss had been wild and uncontrolled, but this…this was rich, potent, erotic in ways that suggested pleasures beyond any she’d experienced. She never wanted him to stop.

  When he pulled back, she moaned in frustration. “More.”

  “Believe me, there will be more.” He unsnapped his cuffs and tugged open his shirt before shrugging out of it and tossing it away.

  Oh, my. Before she could stop herself, she’d laid her palms on that muscled expanse. His skin was damp beneath her fingers and his chest heaved. His heart raced as she pressed the pads of her fingers into his sculpted pecs. Glancing up, she met a gaze dark with passion.

  “I’d…” He paused to swallow. “I’d be much obliged if you’d take off your shirt. The way I’m feeling, I could rip it.”

  “Sure.” Moving back, she unbuttoned it far enough that she could pull it over her head. Then she threw it down, not caring where it landed. Reaching behind her back, she unhooked her bra and rid herself of that, too.

  He sucked in a breath.

  “Still think my voice is the sexiest thing about me?”

  He nodded as he stepped forward, his mouth tilting in an appreciative smile. He cradled a breast in each hand. “But these are running a close second.”

  She shivered at the pleasure of his warm hands on her skin. Then he dipped his head and took one tight nipple in his teeth. Some men were excellent at this and some were not. He fell on the excellent side of the spectrum and her brain took a hike.

  Wet panties. Too many clothes. As if he’d come to the same conclusion, he swept her up in his arms and deposited her on his bed, boots and all. The boots didn’t stay on long, nor did the denim skirt and drenched underwear.

  He kept his focus on her while he shucked the rest of his clothes.

  She tried to keep her attention on his face. But she lost the battle and allowed her gaze to drift south when he peeled off his knit boxers. Sexual power like that didn’t come along every day. His cock was thick and his balls heavy between his thighs. She had a hunch she’d leave here a very satisfied woman.

  Opening a drawer, he pulled out a condom. The idea that he wouldn’t take care of that had never crossed her mind. He inspired complete trust and that meant she could relax and enjoy every moment without fear. What a gift.

  He rolled on the condom and climbed in beside her, his erect cock brushing her thigh as he stretched out with his head propped on
his right hand. He traced the contours of her body with his left and followed the journey with his gaze. “No bullshit lines, I promise.” His voice was husky. “But you’re a work of art.”

  “I’m a seething mass of hormonal urges.”

  “I can tell.” He slipped his hand between her thighs, touching her, arousing her even more. “But…if I only have one shot tonight, I’ll draw it out.” He gave a throaty chuckle. “If I can.”

  “Don’t draw it out.” She gasped as he circled her clit with his thumb. “Jimi didn’t give me a curfew.”

  “That’s all I need to hear.” He moved over her.

  Evidently he was an old-fashioned lover, at least in the beginning. She was on board with old-fashioned. Nothing wrong with—oh, wait. He boldly pushed her knees back and settled the tip of his cock at her slick entrance. With one smooth motion, he buried it deep within her. She let out a low moan of pleasure.

  Panting, he squeezed his eyes shut. “Correction.” He paused to gulp in air. “Your voice is…not…the sexiest part of you.”

  If she’d had any breath left after that take-charge thrust, she might have laughed.

  Slowly he opened his eyes and gazed down at her as he began to move. “But when you sing, I’ll remember this.”

  She slipped both hands up his sweaty chest. “You’ll get us both hot.”

  The corners of his mouth quirked. “Once they leave, the bed’s not far.” He picked up the pace.

  “You’re crazy.”

  “I’ve heard that.” Lifting her feet, he hooked her heels over his shoulders and slid his hands under her bottom.

  A wild spirit of adventure caused her to whoop with joy. This was more like it. No more boring sex.

  He grinned and pumped faster as sweat beaded on his forehead and his chest.

  Her climax hovered near. There…almost… and then it flooded through her in wave upon wave. She yelled again as he rode the current, not letting up until he claimed his own orgasm with a bellow of delight.

  Closing his eyes, he held her tightly in place as he gulped for air. Still vibrating from her orgasm, she gazed at his magnificent torso glistening with sweat. Talk about a work of art.

  His eyes slowly opened and he gave her a lazy smile. “Not a bad beginning.”

  She smiled back. “Not bad at all.”

  Gently lifting her heels free, he lowered her legs to the mattress and leaned down to give her a quick kiss. “Be right back.” After he returned from taking care of the condom, he stretched out on his back, laced his fingers through hers and stared up at the ceiling. “I knew it would be like this.”

  “Not me.” She turned her head to study his profile. “I’ve developed low expectations when it comes to sex.”

  He chuckled. “I’m not surprised. I saw that dude. Looked like he had a stick up his ass.”

  “You certainly don’t.”

  He turned on his side to face her. “I might have been showing off some.”

  She mirrored him. “Showing off for little ol’ me? Just so you know for future encounters, I’m easily impressed. We don’t have to swing from the chandeliers.”

  “That’s good because this apartment didn’t come with any. There’s a ceiling fan but try swinging on that relic and you’ll find yourself pinned to the floor with a fan on your chest.”

  “Thanks for the warning.” She traced the line of his mouth with her finger. “We were loud. Do you think anybody heard us?”

  “I wouldn’t mind if one of my brothers was driving by. They still view me as an emotional wreck and I’d love for them to know that my celibate days are over.”

  “Celibate days? You haven’t been with anyone since then?”

  “At the risk of sounding pathetic, no, I haven’t.”

  “That’s not pathetic. That’s sweet. I would have thought less of you if you’d spent the past year boinking every woman who said yes.”

  He laughed. “I live in Eagles Nest. If I behaved that way, it would be all over town and I’d embarrass my family. And myself, for that matter. Sex is a lot of fun, but I want it to mean something.”

  “This meant something.”

  His expression softened. “Of course it did. I knew it would. We connect on so many levels.”

  “Personally, I like this level.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Tomorrow night will be an interesting challenge. I’ll be bringing a lot of emotion to the stage. That beats a wooden delivery any day.”

  “Can’t wait.” He stroked the curve of her hip. “Tending bar should be fun. I won’t be able to hear you sing without thinking about how great it is to be deep inside you, to feel you coming.”

  “I’ll be thinking of it, too.”

  “Watching you play turned me on before. No telling how I’ll react now.”

  “Speaking of that—” She reached for his hand and kissed his fingertips where calluses were just beginning to form. “You’re starting to play again.”

  “I figured you’d notice.”

  “How’s it going?”

  “Slow.”

  “You were off a long time.”

  “I know. I’ll get there.” He smiled. “By the way, it’s your fault I’m playing again.”

  “It is?”

  “Yes, ma’am. If you hadn’t walked into my bar and offered to play for tips I doubt I’d have taken that Martin out of the case.”

  “If that’s true, I’m even more thrilled that I made myself do it.”

  “Oh, it’s true. I thought my guitar would distract me and I would stop obsessing about making love to you. You see how that worked out.”

  “Great.” She snuggled closer. “It worked out great.”

  “Yeah, it did.” He rolled her to her back and moved over her. “Having the guitar in my hands again feels good. Not as good as touching you, but now that I’ve picked it up, I’m hooked.”

  “Good.”

  “But I’d like to keep it quiet.”

  “You can count on me.”

  “I know.” He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. “Anyone who’d turn her life upside down for an ornery old cat will keep a secret like this, too.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Bryce hadn’t made love to a woman so many times or with that much joy in…yeah, he’d never had more fun in bed. Nicole was his sexual match and he hadn’t known that would make such a difference. She appreciated adventure and surprises, but she had a tender side, too.

  Sometime around three they fell asleep in each other’s arms. He woke to sunlight streaming through the windows of his apartment. Good thing he’d stocked in breakfast provisions because he was starving. Cooking breakfast together would be a treat. Then he remembered Jimi. The cat needed his breakfast, too.

  Mindful of his stubble, he kissed Nicole gently awake. “Time to feed Jimi.”

  Her eyes fluttered open. “Jimi? He’s here? No, wait. You mean I need to go home and feed him.” She smiled. “That is so sweet. Any other guy would have his mind on sex and would forget all about my cat.”

  “My mind is on sex.” He gave her one last kiss and rolled out of bed. “But I grew up on a ranch. I was trained to think of critters first, me second. Domestic animals can’t mosey on down to the kitchen or the nearest café.”

  “No, they can’t and you’re right.” She climbed out from under the covers and stood before him, her tousled hair throwing off flashes of red in the morning sun and her pale skin dusted with freckles.

  In the dim light and the excitement of making love to her, he’d forgotten about her freckles. Now he wanted to kiss every single one.

  She glanced down at his cock. “Yes, your mind’s definitely on sex.”

  “I can’t be held responsible. There’s a beautiful redhead standing naked in my apartment.”

  “I’ll fix that.” She scooped her clothes from the floor. “Is it okay if I take first turn in the bathroom?”

  “Go for it. I’m sure Jimi’s pacing the floor.”

  “He probably is. Th
at cat loves to eat.” She grabbed her purse and ducked into the bathroom.

  While she was in there, he managed to pull on his boxers and jeans, not easy in his present condition.

  She was back in a flash, hair brushed and lipstick on. Her clothes were slightly wrinkled, but not bad. She sat on the bed and tugged on her boots. “I have an idea. Why don’t you follow me home and I’ll cook you breakfast?”

  “You say that like it’s a slam dunk.”

  “It could be.” She shrugged. “We won’t know until we try.”

  “He’s not going to like me.”

  “He might. You smell like me, now.”

  He sniffed his arm and sure enough. The scent of perfume and aroused woman was on his skin. “I do.”

  “I thought of that when I was in the bathroom, because I smell like you, too. It might confuse him enough that he won’t attack.”

  “You plan to just take me in there and find out if he will?”

  “No, silly. I’ll go in first and feed him. His food dish is in the laundry room and it has a pocket door. I’ll close it most of the way so he can smell you but can’t get out. We can see how he acts.”

  “How heavy is that door?”

  “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s just a thought.” She looked disappointed, though.

  “I’ll do it. Give me two minutes.” Ray had been terrified of that animal. He didn’t want to put himself in the same category as her wimpy ex.

  Moments later, he followed her down the stairs and out the front door. She hopped in her truck and he got into his. Sunday morning traffic was light and they arrived at her house before he was mentally prepared.

  She parked in the drive, got out and motioned him to pull in behind her. Then she walked back to his truck.

  He rolled down his window.

  “It only takes me about three minutes to fix his breakfast.” She shaded her eyes with her hand. “So come in after that.”

  “Okay.” He wasn’t going to ask again if the cat could shoulder his way through an opening in a pocket door. He was sure a determined cat could do that if enough was at stake, like defending his home against invaders.