end.”
Fine, she nearly replied. That’s noble of you. But before she made that mistake, reality rolled over her. She wouldn’t call him the silent and stoic Native American; he was a macho man in a macho world. Hadn’t she seen riders throw up before getting on the bull or bronc they’d drawn? None of them talked about the fear clamped around their bellies—just as Cougar hadn’t told anyone he’d been afraid he’d spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair.
“It’s so complicated, isn’t it,” she said and straightened. Let him see her tears after all. “That’s why I’m going to compete tonight, so hopefully I can make things less complicated.”
Instead of pointing out that she hadn’t made any sense—which he had every right to do—he pushed her hair back from her cheek and planted a kiss on her forehead. “It’s all right if you don’t go out there again. That’s what I want you to hear, that I won’t think any the less of you.”
Instead of feeling strengthened by his words, he’d, maybe unwittingly, laid the most important thing on the table. He might not think less of her if she hung up her barrel-racing saddle and put her horses out to pasture, but she would.
And she wouldn’t be able to hold up her head around him.
“What is it?” he prompted. “Are we back to where we started? You’re comparing the way each of us faced our injuries?”
“I don’t know where we are.” Much as she wanted to be in a different hemisphere from the one he was in, even more she wanted to give his cock a home. “Darn it, it doesn’t have to be this complicated.”
“No. It doesn’t.”
He was bringing her closer, pressing her against his body and making her terribly aware of the fabric she’d placed between her sex and his. Maybe he knew what she was thinking—and regretting—because he ground himself against her, forced her to back up, forced her to deal with frustration.
“I thought you had a lot to do,” she managed.
“I do, starting with you.”
“Just like that?” Torn between trying to shove him off her and leaving him with no doubt of her powerful need, she clung to him.
“Yeah, Jordan, just like that. You came on strong last night. It’s my turn again.”
She, strong? On the brink of calling him a liar, images from the barn pushed past her barriers. He was right. She’d been the aggressor right up until when he’d placed her on the hay and taken her missionary style. “What do you want?”
“You. Damn it, you.”
Like him, she too was torn between the need that was taking huge chunks out of her sanity and the undeniable fact that they were taking things too fast. But when he lifted her and laid her out on his bed, nothing else mattered.
She reached for her jeans, but he grasped her wrists and placed her hands over her head. He stretched out beside her.
“You’re an incredible woman with an incredible body.”
“It’s standard issue.”
“The hell it is. The way you turn me on—” Rolling toward her, he closed his mouth around a breast.
He nipped, nibbled, licked and sucked. Within seconds, she was writhing on the tangled sheets. He took her breast into his wet, warm mouth. Lightning sparked from her mound to her pelvis. The sensation spread out, closing around her pussy and making her think of a wilderness storm with thunder booming, rain pounding down and lightning shattering the night.
What was it she’d always believed about needing lengthy foreplay? What was it she’d maintained about not being a cheap lay?
What the hell did either of those things matter?
“Cougar, Cougar, Cougar.” The chant echoed off the metal walls.
He released her wrists, but she remained as he’d positioned her, lost in the fantasy of being at his disposal. Pain in her captured nipple lifted her pelvis off the bed. But instead of trying to free herself, she arched toward him and offered him everything. He closed his lips-covered teeth around her nipple and drew on it.
Fine, she nearly replied. That’s noble of you. But before she made that mistake, reality rolled over her. She wouldn’t call him the silent and stoic Native American; he was a macho man in a macho world. Hadn’t she seen riders throw up before getting on the bull or bronc they’d drawn? None of them talked about the fear clamped around their bellies—just as Cougar hadn’t told anyone he’d been afraid he’d spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair.
“It’s so complicated, isn’t it,” she said and straightened. Let him see her tears after all. “That’s why I’m going to compete tonight, so hopefully I can make things less complicated.”
Instead of pointing out that she hadn’t made any sense—which he had every right to do—he pushed her hair back from her cheek and planted a kiss on her forehead. “It’s all right if you don’t go out there again. That’s what I want you to hear, that I won’t think any the less of you.”
Instead of feeling strengthened by his words, he’d, maybe unwittingly, laid the most important thing on the table. He might not think less of her if she hung up her barrel-racing saddle and put her horses out to pasture, but she would.
And she wouldn’t be able to hold up her head around him.
“What is it?” he prompted. “Are we back to where we started? You’re comparing the way each of us faced our injuries?”
“I don’t know where we are.” Much as she wanted to be in a different hemisphere from the one he was in, even more she wanted to give his cock a home. “Darn it, it doesn’t have to be this complicated.”
“No. It doesn’t.”
He was bringing her closer, pressing her against his body and making her terribly aware of the fabric she’d placed between her sex and his. Maybe he knew what she was thinking—and regretting—because he ground himself against her, forced her to back up, forced her to deal with frustration.
“I thought you had a lot to do,” she managed.
“I do, starting with you.”
“Just like that?” Torn between trying to shove him off her and leaving him with no doubt of her powerful need, she clung to him.
“Yeah, Jordan, just like that. You came on strong last night. It’s my turn again.”
She, strong? On the brink of calling him a liar, images from the barn pushed past her barriers. He was right. She’d been the aggressor right up until when he’d placed her on the hay and taken her missionary style. “What do you want?”
“You. Damn it, you.”
Like him, she too was torn between the need that was taking huge chunks out of her sanity and the undeniable fact that they were taking things too fast. But when he lifted her and laid her out on his bed, nothing else mattered.
She reached for her jeans, but he grasped her wrists and placed her hands over her head. He stretched out beside her.
“You’re an incredible woman with an incredible body.”
“It’s standard issue.”
“The hell it is. The way you turn me on—” Rolling toward her, he closed his mouth around a breast.
He nipped, nibbled, licked and sucked. Within seconds, she was writhing on the tangled sheets. He took her breast into his wet, warm mouth. Lightning sparked from her mound to her pelvis. The sensation spread out, closing around her pussy and making her think of a wilderness storm with thunder booming, rain pounding down and lightning shattering the night.
What was it she’d always believed about needing lengthy foreplay? What was it she’d maintained about not being a cheap lay?
What the hell did either of those things matter?
“Cougar, Cougar, Cougar.” The chant echoed off the metal walls.
He released her wrists, but she remained as he’d positioned her, lost in the fantasy of being at his disposal. Pain in her captured nipple lifted her pelvis off the bed. But instead of trying to free herself, she arched toward him and offered him everything. He closed his lips-covered teeth around her nipple and drew on it.
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