Buckhorn Beginnings (14 page)

There was, of course, the natural barrage of questions. Sawyer got up and moved to sit beside her but remained silent, letting his brothers do the interrogating. He no longer had the heart for it. He picked up her cold hand from her lap and cradled it between his own. She clutched at him, squeezing his fingers
tight, but otherwise made no sign of even noticing his touch.

Gently, Gabe asked, “Why didn't you want to be in your father's business?”

She answered without hesitation. “It's a cutthroat environment. Company spies, takeovers, social climbers. It kept my father away from home the entire time my sister and I were growing up. I hate the business. I'd never involve myself in it. I wasn't even keen on marrying a man who worked for my father. But Alden led me to believe he was content with the position of regional manager, that he didn't aspire to anything more. It seemed…like a good idea.”

She blushed making that admission, and Sawyer rubbed his thumb over her knuckles to comfort her. “Because your father approved of Alden?”

“Yes.” She looked shamed, and he almost pulled her into his lap, then her shoulders stiffened and he saw her gather herself. In many ways, he was as drawn by her spirit and pride as he was by the sexual chemistry that shimmered between them.

She sighed. “I hadn't realized I was still trying to gain my father's approval. But then I went to see Alden at the office, to discuss some of the wedding plans, and his secretary was out to lunch. I heard him talking on the phone about his new status once the marriage was final. I listened just long enough to find out he was making grand plans, all because marrying me would put him in a better social and professional position. It hit me that I was angry and embarrassed over being so stupid, but I wasn't…I wasn't lovesick over learning the truth. In fact, I was
sort of relieved to have a good reason to break things off, strange as that may sound. So I went back to his house, packed and left him the note.”

Morgan rubbed his chin. “Company status seems like a pretty good reason for him to want you back, to possibly be following you.”

She shrugged. “But why try to hurt me? Why try to run me off the road? Without me, there'd be no marriage and then he'd gain nothing. And when my sister's house was broken into, what were they looking for? That's what doesn't make sense. Alden is already in a good financial position. And as my father's regional manager, he's on his way to the top of the company. It's not like he
needed
to marry me to get anywhere. All that would accomplish was to speed things along.”

“Maybe.” Morgan finished his last carrot curl, then got up to fetch a pencil and paper. “I want you to write down your father's name, the company name, addresses for both and for this Alden ass, and anything else you can think of. I'll check on some things in the morning.” He hushed her before she could speak. “Discreetly. I promise. No one will follow you here from anything I say or do.”

She tugged on Sawyer's hand, and he released her so she could write. Gabe stood up with a yawn. “I'll start work on your car tomorrow, as long as you promise you won't go anywhere without telling one of us first.”

Absently, she nodded, her attention on making her list for Morgan.

“Good. Then I'm off to bed. Come on, Casey. You look like you're ready to collapse under the table.”

Casey grinned tiredly, but rather than leave, he walked around the table and gave Honey a brief kiss on the forehead. She looked up, appearing both startled and pleased by the gesture.

Casey smiled down at her. “Thanks for the sandwich. It was way better than cookies.”

Morgan gently clasped the back of her neck when he took the note from her. “I can see why you've been cautious, but that's over now, right?”

When she didn't agree quickly enough, he wobbled her head. “Right?”

She gave him a disgruntled frown. “Yes.”

“Good girl. I'll see you in the morning. Saywer, you should hit the sack, too. You got almost no sleep the night before, and you're starting to look like a zombie.”

Sawyer waved him off. He was anxious for everyone to get the hell out of the room. He had a few things he wanted to say to Honey that would be better said in private.

Jordan pulled her out of her chair for a hug. “Sleep tight, Honey. And no more worrying. Everything will be okay now. Sawyer will take good care of you.”

She glanced at Sawyer, then quickly away. He wondered if his intentions showed on his face, given the timid way she avoided looking right at him. He didn't doubt it was possible. He felt like a sexual powder keg with a very short fuse.

Finally they were alone in the kitchen. Honey gathered up the plates and carried them to the dish
washer, her movements unnaturally jerky and nervous. Sawyer watched her through hot eyes, tracking her as she came back to the table for the glasses.

“You're feeling better?”

“Yes.” She deftly loaded the dishwasher, as much to keep from looking at him as anything else. He could feel her reservations, her uncertainty. He stepped close enough to inhale her spicy scent, leaning down so his nose almost touched her nape, exposed by the way she'd tied her hair back. She stilled, resting her hands on the edge of the counter. She kept her back to him, and when she spoke, her voice was breathy. “My…my throat is still a little sore, but I don't feel so wrung out. I think all the sleep helped.”

He crowded closer still and placed his hands beside hers, caging her in. Deliberately he allowed his chest to press against her shoulder blades. “I have patients in the morning, but in the afternoon I'll take you into town to get a few things.”

“Things?”

“Whatever you might need.” He nuzzled the soft skin beneath her ear. “More clothes, definitely shoes.” His mouth touched her earlobe. “Anything you want.”

“I'll pay for it myself.”

“Not unless you have cash. Your credit cards can be traced.” He kissed her skin softly, then added, “We can call it a brief loan if that'll make you feel better.” He had no intention of letting her pay him back, but she didn't need to know that now. Fighting with her was the absolute last thing on his mind.

Her head fell forward. “All right.”

He pulled his hands slowly from the counter, letting them trail up her arms to her sides, then down and around to her belly. He heard her suck in a quick, startled breath. His body throbbed; he nestled his erection against her soft behind, finding some comfort from the razor edge of arousal and intensifying the ache at the same time. His fingers kneaded her soft, flat belly, and when she moaned, he trailed one hand higher to her breast, free beneath the smooth cotton of the T-shirt.

Just as she'd done the last time he'd touched her there, she jerked violently, as if the mere press of his fingers was both an acute pleasure and an electrifying pain. His heart thundered at the feel of her soft weight in his hand. Her nipple was already peaked, burning against his palm. She'd instinctively pulled backward from the touch of his hand, and now she was pressed hard against him.

He adjusted his hold, one hand clamping on her breast, the other opened wide over her abdomen. In a growled whisper, he said, “I read your note.”

As he'd expected, she exploded into motion, trying to get away. He held her secure with his firm hold and said, “Shh. Shh, it's all right.”

She sounded panicked. “I…I'd forgotten!”

“I know.” He didn't release her, adjusting his hold to keep her still, to keep her right where he wanted her. “I should let you sleep. I should give you time to think about this. But I want you too much. Now.”

He could feel her trembling, the rapid hammering of her heart. He turned his hand slightly until his thumb could drag over her sensitive nipple, flicking
once, twice. Her hands gripped the countertop hard, and she panted.

Opening his mouth on her throat, he sucked the delicate skin against his teeth. He wanted to mark her; he wanted to devour her. The primitive urges were new to him, but he no longer fought against them. She was his now, and there was no going back.

He caught her nipple between his rough fingertips and plucked gently. She moaned, then gave a soft sob, and all the resistance left her until she stood limp and trembling against him.

“You want me, Honey.”

Her head moved on his shoulder, and her voice was faint with excitement. “Yes. That's why I had to leave. It's…too soon, but I was so disappointed when you said you didn't want me. I knew I couldn't trust myself….”

He pressed his erection hard against her and wondered what it would be like to take her this way, from behind, her plump breasts filling his hands, her legs quivering….

“It's only sex, sweetheart. That's all I can give you.” The words emerged as a rough growl because he didn't want to say them, didn't want to take the chance she'd turn him away. But from somewhere deep inside himself, his honor had forced him to admit the truth to her.

To his surprise, she merely nodded, then repeated, “Only sex. That's probably for the best.”

A surprising wash of indignation hit him, even as he admitted to himself the reaction was totally unfair. She'd only agreed with him, yet he'd thought
she felt more.
He did.
Whether or not he admitted it, he knew it was true, and he hated it. He couldn't get involved. Never again.

He turned her around, then lifted her in his arms. “So be it. At least we're agreed.”

She clutched at his shoulders and stared up at him with wide eyes. “What are you doing?”

He was burning up with urgent need, making his pace too rushed. He wanted to take his time with her, but as he looked down at her, seeing the same shimmering heat in her gaze, he wondered if he'd even make it to his room. It seemed much too far away. “Sawyer?”

Her voice shook, and he bent to place a hard, quick kiss to her soft mouth. “I'm taking you to bed. Then I'm going to strip you naked and make love to you.”

That sexy mouth of hers parted and she gasped. “But… It's late.”

The bedroom door was already open and he walked in, then quietly shoved it closed with his heel. “If you think I'm going to wait one second more, especially after reading that note, you're dead wrong.” He lowered her to the mattress, but followed her down, unwilling to have any space between them at all. In one movement he used his knee to open her slender thighs and settled between her legs. He wanted to groan aloud at the exquisite contact, at the feel of her soft body cushioning his. Damn, if he wasn't careful, he'd come before he ever got inside her.

He cupped her face to make certain he had her attention. “If you'd gotten away today, I'd have come
after you.” Her eyes turned dark, her pupils expanding with awareness. “There's something between us, and damned if I can fight it anymore. I don't think I could stand going the rest of my life without knowing what it'd be like to have you under me, naked, mine.”

She stared up at him, her breathing fast and low, then with a moan she lifted while at the same time pulling him down. Their mouths met, open, hot, and Sawyer gave up any hopes of slowing down. He'd only known her a few short days, but he felt like he'd been waiting on her for a lifetime.

S
HE WAS ALIVE
with sensation, aware of Sawyer on every possible level, the hardness of his body, his heat, the way his kiss had turned commanding, his tongue thrusting deep into her mouth, stroking. She breathed in his hot, musky, male scent, felt the rasp of a slight beard stubble, and she moaned hungrily. Every touch, every movement, drove her closer to the brink. She'd never experienced this flash fire of desire before and probably would have argued over its existence. But now she was held on the very threshold of exploding, and all he'd done was kiss her.

Her hands moved over his bare back, loving the feel of hot flesh and hard muscle. She'd seen more male perfection in the past two days than most women experienced in a lifetime, but nothing and no one could compare to the man now making love to her. Desperately, she pulled her mouth free and groaned out a plea.
“Sawyer…”

It seemed to be happening too fast. Her body was taut, her breasts swollen and acutely sensitive. And where his pelvis pushed against her, she ached unbearably.

“It's all right,” he whispered against her mouth,
the words rushed and low. “Let me get this shirt off you.”

Before he'd finished speaking, the T-shirt was tugged above her breasts. He paused, staring down at her with black eyes, and one large hand covered her right breast. His fingertips were calloused, and they rasped over her puckered nipple, around it, pinching lightly. She cried out, her body arching hard. The pleasure was piercing, sharp, pulling her deeper. He soothed her with mumbled words, then bent, and his mouth replaced his hand.

With a gasp, her eyes opened wide. She couldn't bear it. His mouth was so hot, his tongue rough, and then he started sucking. Hard. All the while his hips moved in that tantalizing rhythm against her in a parody of what was to come. She lost her fragile grasp on control, unaware of everything but the implosion of heat, the wave of sensation that made her muscles ripple and her skin burn, the link between her breasts and her groin and the way he touched her, how he moved against her…

Without thought, she dug her nails into his bare shoulders and she tightened her thighs around his hard hips, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip and groaning long and low with the intensity of her orgasm.

After a moment the feelings began to subside, leaving her shaken and confused. Sawyer raised his head, his lips wet, his eyes blazing. He stared at her and whispered, “Damn.”

She shared his sentiments. Shock mingled with sated desire. She hadn't even known such a thing
was possible, much less that it would ever happen to her. She wasn't, in the normal course of things, an overly sexual woman, and gaining her own pleasure had always been an elusive thing, not a bombarding rush.

He kissed her gently, and all she could do was struggle for breath, unable to even pucker for his kiss. His hand trembled as he smoothed hair away from her face, now pulled loose from the string she'd tied it back with. “I didn't expect that,” he admitted, still softly, with awe.

She swallowed hard, trying to gain her bearings. A pleasurable throb reverberated through her limp muscles. She could barely think. “Wh…what?”

He touched her cheek and a gentle smile lit up his face. Without a word, he sat up astride her thighs and pulled the T-shirt the rest of the way off, lifting each arm as if she were a child. “You are so damn sweet.”

She covered her aching breasts with her hands, shyness over what had just happened engulfing her. Sawyer ignored the gesture as he looked at her body with an absorption that left her squirming. His hands smoothed over her shoulders, down her sides. He touched her navel with his baby finger, dipping lightly, then flicking open the snap to her jeans.

“I want you naked. I want to look my fill.”

What he said and the heat in his words made her entire body blush. He smiled, then moved to the side of her to wrest her jeans down her legs. “Lift your hips.”

She swallowed her embarrassment and did as he
asked, anxious to see what would come next. So far, nothing had been as she'd anticipated, or what she'd come to expect between men and women. Then he took her panties with her jeans, and as he looked at the curls between her legs, she squeezed her eyes shut.

They snapped open again when the bed dipped and she felt his mouth gently brush over the top of one thigh. “Sawyer!”

He reversed the position of his upper body so that he faced the foot of the bed; his arms caged her hips and again he kissed her, this time flicking his tongue out and tasting her skin. “Open your legs for me,” he growled low.

She released her breasts to clutch at the sheet, trying to ground herself against the unbearable eroticism of his command. He didn't hurry her, didn't repeat his order. He merely waited and finally, after two deep breaths, she found the courage to do as he asked. She felt stiff with expectation and nervousness and excitement as she felt herself slowly exposed.

He made a low rasping sound of appreciation, then whispered, “Wider.”

Shaking from head to toe, she bent one knee, and with a raw groan, he took swift advantage. She felt his hot moist breath, the touch of his lips on the inside of her thigh, then higher, until he was there, kissing her, nuzzling into her femininity. With a jolt of red-hot lust, she lifted her hips, the movement involuntary and instinctive, offering herself to him completely.

“Easy, sweetheart.” His hands slid under her, locking around her thighs, keeping her still. Keeping her wide-open.

She felt the bold stroke of his tongue, then the seeking press of his lips before he found what he wanted and treated her to another, more gentle but twice as devastating suckle.

She was sensitive and swollen from her recent climax, and the feel of his mouth there was both a relief and a wild torment. She had a single moment of cognizance and pulled a pillow over her head to muffle her raw cries, and then she was climaxing again. And again. Sawyer reveled in her reactions, and she found he could be totally ruthless when he chose to be. He used his fingers, gently manipulating her. He used his tongue to make her beg, his teeth to make her gasp. And she gladly obeyed.

When he stood by the side of the bed, she no longer tried to cover herself. She doubted she could move. Her legs were still sprawled, her breasts trembling with her low, shallow breaths, but she didn't care. She felt replete and wrung out and willingly pliant.

Sawyer shucked off his jeans, his face dark with desire, his breathing labored. Honey let her head fall to the side so she could see him better, and through narrowed, slumberous eyes, she took in the gorgeous sight of his naked body. Though she didn't move, her heart gave a heavy thump at the sight he presented.

His shoulders and chest were wide, his stomach hard, his thighs long and muscled. The hair around his groin was darker, and his erection was long and
thick, pulsing in impatience. She shuddered at the sight of it, wondering if she could bear taking him inside when everything else he'd done had already shattered her. She felt emotionally raw, unable to cope with the depth of what she'd experienced, of what he could so easily make her feel.

She watched as he opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a slim pack of condoms. He tore one open and deftly slid it on, then turned to stare down at her.

She whispered, “I didn't know, didn't think…” but she couldn't put into words the way he'd made her feel, how it both thrilled and alarmed her. She could tell by the grim set of his features he understood, and to some degree, felt the same. They both resented the strength of the desire between them. Mere sex shouldn't be so consuming, so uncontrollable.

“I can feel you everywhere,” she added in the same low tone, almost fearfully because she'd never suspected sex could be so wild and forceful, to the point she was helpless against it. Her skin still tingled, her senses alive though her body was sated.

Remaining at the side of the bed, his eyes hot on her face, Sawyer reached down and cupped his hand over her sex. His fingers moved gently between her slick folds until they opened; he pressed his middle finger inside her, and his eyes closed on a groan. “Damn, you're wet and tight.”

Honey bit her lip and tears seeped from the corners of her eyes as she struggled to accept this new onslaught of sensation. “It's…it's too much, Sawyer.”

“And not enough,” he rasped, then came into the bed over her.

She opened herself to him without reserve, lifting her face for his kiss. Though the hunger was still tightly etched in his features, his kiss was gently controlling. He took his time, making love to her mouth, bringing her desire back into full swing.

“Please.”

Sawyer cupped her face and stared into her eyes. “Wrap your legs high around my waist. That's it. Now hold me tight.”

His voice was so low and gruff she could barely understand him. She felt him probing, his erection pressing just inside, burning and appeasing, and her heart swelled. She gave a shuddering sob and closed her eyes, but he kissed her and said, “Look at me, Honey.”

It was so wonderful, it hurt. She cried while she stared at him, not out of sadness, but from inexplicable pleasure. She knew she'd probably fallen in love within the first hour of meeting him. She drew her palms down his chest to his small brown nipples and smoothed over them, determined to take everything she could. His expression hardened and he locked his jaw, rocking against her, entering her by excruciatingly slow degrees. She lifted her hips to hurry him along and was rewarded with his harsh groan. His muscles rippled and tightened, and then he thrust hard with a curse.

Honey held on to him, stunned by the shock of pleasure as he filled her. He tangled his fingers in
her hair and locked his mouth onto hers and rode her hard. His chest rubbed against her stiffened nipples, his hips grinding into her with an incredible friction, his scent invading her.

She screamed as she climaxed, and Sawyer, still kissing her, swallowed the sound. He held her so close she felt a part of him. He held her and kissed her until she'd relaxed and then continued doing so even as he found his own release, his hold almost crushing it became so tight.

The kiss dwindled, turning light and soft and lazy as Sawyer sank onto her. His heartbeat rocked them both, and still he kept kissing her, easily, consuming her, soft lazy kisses that went on and on.

A noise in the hallway made him lift his head. He stared toward the closed door, and Honey couldn't remember if he'd locked it or not. After a second of squeaking floorboards, she heard Morgan call softly, “Sawyer?”

Sawyer dropped his forehead onto hers with a muffled curse. He swallowed, took two deep breaths and said with feigned calm, “Yeah?”

“Ah, I heard a scream. Again. But I'll assume you're…kissing her again.” There was a slight chuckle. “Carry on.” Then the sound of retreating foot steps.

Honey wanted to cover her face; she even wanted to blush. She couldn't manage either one. She closed her eyes and started to drift off to sleep. Sawyer kissed her slack mouth, smoothed his rough hand over her cheek, then rolled to her side. He was silent
for a few minutes, and she felt the weight of lethargy settle into her bones. Right before she dozed off, she heard him murmur, “God knows I got more than I bargained for, but I intend to keep taking it while you're here.”

And how long would that be, she wondered? Two days, maybe three? With Gabe fixing her car and Morgan checking into things, she wouldn't have much time at all. But like Sawyer, she intended to make every minute count.

In the next instant, she was sound asleep.

 

S
AWYER WATCHED
H
ONEY
with a brooding intensity. She'd been here two weeks now, and he'd made love to her at least twice a day. Yet it wasn't enough, and he'd begun to doubt there could ever be enough. She wasn't out of his system—far from it. It seemed the more he had her, the more he wanted her, to the point he could think of little else.

She'd integrated herself completely into their lives. She now took turns cooking and cleaning, regardless of how they all complained. Unlike the other women who on rare occasions had visited the house, Honey didn't suggest they should sit and let her do it all. She didn't excuse them from duty just because they were male. No, she willingly allowed them their fair share. But she wanted to do her own part, too.

Seeing her in his kitchen cooking made him want her.

Seeing her pulling weeds from the flower beds around the house made him want her.

And listening to her argue with his brothers or coddle his son really made him burn with lust. Dammit. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be.

It was late in the day, and a barrage of patients had kept him busy for several solid hours. He hadn't had a chance to visit with her as he usually did. Twice she had poked her head into his office to offer him lunch or a quick snack. Even seeing her for those brief moments had brightened his day, as if he'd grown accustomed to her and had been suffering withdrawal from her absence.

He didn't like the feeling. Never before had he felt annoyed by having so many patients, or having to deal with the occasional imaginary illness. He was known for his patience and kindness, not his lust.

But lust today had ruled him, just as it had since he'd first laid eyes on her.

Right now, Honey was hanging over Gabe's shoulder while he looked at her car engine. Gabe had done a fair job of taking his time on the car. He'd ordered unnecessary parts, replaced things that didn't need replacing and generally stalled as long as he could. But Honey was getting antsy. There'd been no sign of the men after her, and Morgan hadn't been able to turn up a damn thing, though he'd alerted several people in town to let him know of any strangers passing through. Now all they could do was wait, but Honey was done waiting. She'd gotten it into her head that she was taking advantage of them and therefore should get out from underfoot.