And Then You Dare (Crested Butte Cowboys Series Book 5) (15 page)

Bill felt the blood drain from his face. “What’d you do?” he
could barely get the words out.

“I paid the money he owed, but only after he signed the deed
to the house over to your mama. Then I gave him the money to get the hell out
of town. I told him if he showed his face around again, I’d be waitin’ with a
shotgun.”

Bill slunk down into his chair. All this time he’d been
working the ranch, riding bulls and broncs, writing letters to Dottie, and not
worrying about his mama at all. He was a terrible son.

“Your mama and sister are comin’ to your graduation Bill. Once
we get you settled at Western State, I’ll be leaving the ranch.”

“What? I don’t understand.” Why would Clancy leave the ranch?
If this had something to do with his family, Bill would never forgive himself.

Clancy leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “I
made your daddy a promise that I would look out for his family after he passed.
I haven’t been doin’ too good a job of it.”

Bill hesitated. Clancy couldn’t give up his share of the ranch
because of a promise he’d made his daddy. He had his own life to live. No, that
wouldn’t be the way it would go. Instead of Clancy going to live with his mama
and sister, he’d go. If he could get into Western State there had to be a
college near Colorado Springs he could get into. It hurt his heart to think he
wouldn’t be attending college with Dottie, but his heart hurt more knowing he
hadn’t been there when his mama needed him.

The other thing it meant was that it was time to give up
rodeo. He was at a crossroad. If he went one direction, he’d continue living
life as a selfish ingrate. If he went the other way, he knew in his heart he’d
be doing the right thing.

“I’ll go,” he said finally. “It’s time I started takin’ care of
my family Clancy. You’ve been better to us than anyone could ask, and I
appreciate all you’ve done, but it’s time for me to take responsibility.”

Clancy smiled. He looked different tonight. Weary, yet
not stressed. “That’s the other part of the story young Flynn. You better get
yourself another beer to hear this part.”

Being alone in the dining room wasn’t necessarily a good
thing. Bullet tried to keep his hands off Tristan so she could eat, but he
couldn’t. If he wasn’t touching her, the yearn to do so overpowered his ability
to keep his hands to himself.

She’d lean into him, as though her body yearned for his in the
same way.

“Finished?” She’d barely set her fork down when he asked.

She drew a deep breath, and her eyes turned hazy. “I’m either
finished, or just getting started, depending on how you look at it.”

Bullet felt the blood leave the rest of his body and settle in
his groin.

“Let’s go,” she stood and held her hand out to him.

“Do we need to wait for the check?”

“We can take care of it later.”

“I’ll walk you back…”

“I hope you plan to do more than that Bullet.”

Oh, he did. Much more. Starting with picking up her, tossing
her over his shoulder, and running up the hill to the cabin. Instead, he held
her hand, and his breath, until they reached her cabin door.

She reached for the doorknob, but couldn’t bring herself to
open it. Instead she turned around. Bullet was so close, their bodies would
soon fuse. Tristan stared into his eyes, her cheeks warmed. “I don’t do this…”

With a quick nod, he pressed her up against the door. “I do.”
He brushed his nose against her hair, and trailed kisses down to her temple,
her ear, her neck.

“Bullet, we should talk first.”

His lips found hers, and oh, God, he tasted good. He slid his
hand into her hair, and slanted her head, nudging her lips open. His tongue
pierced deeply, as his lips devoured hers. Tristan held on to his biceps, so
hard and sexy, and pressed up against the flexing muscles in his chest. She
could feel her affect on him as she pressed her body closer. The idea of having
him inside her made her dizzy. She gripped his arms more tightly, her fingers
digging into his flesh.

“We’ll talk later. Now open the door,” he demanded. Tristan
turned her hand on the knob, and Bullet turned her into the cabin. His hand
went back into her hair, clenching hard enough to hold her in a possessive
embrace.

He tugged her hair, tipping her head back, to gain access to
her throat. He ran his tongue over her throat, tasting her skin.

“Wait—”

“No. No more waiting.” Bullet brought his lips back to hers,
and delved his tongue in deeply. He wanted to consume her. All of her.

She groaned, igniting him further. His fingers hooked the
strap of her bra through her shirt, and released it in one quick motion. He
slid his fingers along her buttons, releasing each as he went, until she stood
before him, shirt open, bra drooping softly. She shimmied the shirt from her
arms, and Bullet pulled her bra first off one arm, then the other. He could see
the outline of the curves of her breasts by the light of the moon through the
window. But he wanted more.

He pulled her toward the bed, and eased her against it. “Sit
for me.” He walked to the nightstand and turned the low light of the lamp on.
“I want to see you.”

He knelt on the floor next to her, and cupped one breast with
his hand. “And feel you.” Her eyes closed, and she leaned forward.

“Look at me. Watch me,” he demanded.

When her eyes reopened, he covered her taut nipple with his mouth,
his tongue swirled around it, until it beaded. When she rested back on the bed,
he followed. He ran his hand up the inside of her thigh, and under her skirt.
He eased her panties down, and tossed them aside.

“I want to taste you.” He teased his tongue along her inner
thigh, and up, licking as he went.

Tristan ran her fingers into his hair, holding him where he
was, yet feeling as though she should stop him. She was naked, he remained
fully clothed. Since the night in Crested Butte, when they sparred at the hot
tub, she’d fantasized about seeing him naked again. She’d seen then, but hadn’t
been able to touch. Her fingers craved his body, his skin.

He stopped, as though sensing what she was thinking. He stood
between her legs that hung off the end of the bed, and opened the pearl snaps
on his shirt in one swoop. His gaze ran over her body, his hands rested on his
belt buckle.

“Please hurry,” she gasped.

“On no, I’ve imagined this too many times to hurry through
it.” He leaned forward and lifted her arms over her head. “Leave them there for
me, so I can see you stretched out, waiting, welcoming me into you.”

She wanted to beg him to look later, but knew her protests
would only result in him taking more time. He’d take what he wanted, that’s
what he told her at dinner.

“I’ve thought about this since the night in the hot tub,
fantasized about having your body laid out before me so I could taste my fill.”

He knelt down again, and brought her foot to rest on his
shoulder. He trailed kisses from her ankle, up her calf, and to her knee. She
squirmed when he reached her inner thigh again. His kisses quickened, and soon
he reached her apex. He took turns bringing her pleasure with his lips and
fingers. “Let me take care of you Tristan. Just relax,” he stroked into her,
teasing, playing.

“
Please,
” she moaned, and arched against his hand
and mouth.

“Tristan, darlin’, I’m not gonna last too long,” Bullet
breathed. He’d spent too many nights imagining being inside her, now that he
was about to, he knew he wouldn’t be able to control his orgasm. When she
wrapped her long legs around his waist, and her thighs tightened around his
hips, he knew he couldn’t dare even move. Tristan shifted, just a slight motion
with her hips, and he could feel her tighten around him. He drew in a shaky
breath, and covered her moan with his mouth.

He held her there, until the last of her aftershocks squeezed
him. Gently, he rolled until he was under her, and still inside her. He needed
to ease away from her, get up, and dispose of his condom. If she was feeling
the way he was, they’d both be ready again in no time.

***

Tristan had to watch closely to see the rise and fall of his
chest, he slept so deeply. It was another way he was different from Walter.

The differences showed themselves daily if not hourly. Bullet
didn’t snore, Walter sounded like a chainsaw. Bullet took care of
her,
everything Walter did was for himself, for his own pleasure. Until last night,
Tristan had no idea the kind of pleasure Bullet gave her was possible. Over and
over again, he brought her to the brink, pulled back, and then sent her soaring
again. Remembering, she squeezed her thighs together—and winced. She
rolled over, and discovered more muscles that needed soothing, but all in a
good way.

Soft light filtered in through the curtains on the cabin
window. It was early, she should let Bullet sleep. If she drew a warm bath,
would it wake him?

Sliding gently from the bed, she tiptoed into the luxurious
bathroom, quietly closing the door behind her. Warm water ran softly from the
far rim of the tub, like a waterfall. She shook the bath salts she found on the
counter into her hand, and ran it under the water in a sweeping motion. The
scent of lavender and eucalyptus filled the air. Tristan took a deep breath,
and sank into the warm water.

Thinking about last night, she ran her hands along the inside
of her thighs. Bullet’s hands on her had been strong, yet gentle. They didn’t
have sex last night, he made love to her. He took his time, soothing her with
his words as he explored her body. Over and over he told her how beautiful she
was, and how much he wanted her.

Her fingers trailed up her body, and she ran her hands over
her breasts. Just the skim of fingers over her nipples revealed how sore they
were this morning.

“I should be doin’ that,” Bullet whispered in her ear. “You
startin’ without me this mornin’?” He covered her mouth with his, and eased her
lips open, his tongue playful against hers.

“Let me in,” he breathed. Tristan opened her eyes, and
realized he meant the tub. She scooted forward and Bullet climbed in behind
her. He slid his long legs on either side of her, and pulled her back into him.
“Relax against me.”

She reached over, turned the water off, and then rested her
back against his chest. He put his hands on hers and brought them back to her
breasts. “Now where were you when I interrupted you? Were you imagining it was
me doin’ this to you?”

He tightened his grip, and his fingers slid over hers, and
squeezed each of her nipples, hard. Briefly, pain from their soreness shot
through her, quickly replaced with pleasure that shot down the length of her
body. He released her hands, and she started to move hers away.

“Leave them there,” he demanded. “I want to watch.” She
continued what he’d started, while his hands explored other parts of her body,
making their way down until his fingers found her sex. She jolted when they
found their target, but his strong arms around her kept her still. “Relax and
let me take care of you.” His voice was raspy. His fingers read the subtle
nuances of her body.

His arms were tight against the sides of her body, pinning her
between his legs. She couldn’t move, let alone squirm away from his incessant
touch. Her orgasm came on so quickly, it surprised her. “That’s what I like to
see,” he continued to soothe, bringing her down from her release.

Her thoughts drifted as she once again relaxed against him. He
was good. Really good. How many women had experienced such pleasure from his
strong hands, his body?

He trailed his fingers up her arms, and squeezed her
shoulders. “Thought I told you to relax.” His tongue followed his words into
her ear, and she was powerless to do anything but his bidding. She pushed
intrusive thoughts of other women out of her mind, and focused on what his hands
and mouth were doing to her. “That’s better.” Could he really read her that
well?

He reached over and lifted the jar of lavender scrub. “What’s
this?” he asked, but Tristan doubted he expected an answer. Next he picked up the
loofah she had unwrapped and set on the edge of the tub before she’d drawn the
bath.

“Does this hurt?” he rubbed the scrub-coated loofah along her
arm.

“No, it feels wonderful,” she crooned. He continued, carefully
washing each of her arms before scooping more of the scrub onto her breasts.

“I’ll be careful of these,” he promised, tapping her nipples
with his index fingers. He continued to loofah her tummy, and the tops of her
thighs. Tristan felt him rise from the water, and turned around to see him sitting
on the tile on the edge of the tub. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and
pulled her back, so she rested where he’d been sitting.

“Lean forward, and let me scrub your back.” He moved her long
hair out of his way, and she felt him spread the scrub across her shoulders. He
was gentle as he pampered her, the same way he’d been when he made love to her.
A groan of pleasure escaped her lips.

“I guess I’m doin’ this right,” he smiled.

“So right.” Tristan closed her eyes and let her mind enjoy the
sensations of Bullet washing every part of her body.

“Slide further in,” he gently pushed her shoulders. “Get your
hair wet for me.”

He shampooed her hair, and then ran conditioner through it.
With both hands, he massaged her scalp. His hands were strong, yet he knew how
to be gentle.

“Have you ever considered a career in massage?”

Bullet laughed, but his voice was serious. “I haven’t done
this to another woman before, and Tristan, in the future I don’t intend to have
my hands on anyone but you.”

She didn’t believe him, but smiled anyway. It didn’t matter.
For now, she was the one enjoying his caresses. At the end of the day, or the
end of the week, they’d eventually make their way back into their own lives.
She wouldn’t allow herself to think about his hands on other women, and spoil
the time she had with him.

Walter had done a number on her, and for a long time, she
allowed the past hurt to keep her from living in the present. She had grown up
a lot since her time with the philandering bull rider. Her heart had toughened,
but at the same time, she’d matured. In the last couple days, it occurred to
her relationships didn’t have to be forever. She didn’t need to give Bullet her
heart; she could enjoy her time with him without falling in love with him.
Instead of repeating past mistakes, this time she’d be more realistic and guard
against letting her emotions run amok.

“You still here?” Bullet teased. He’d shifted so he was facing
her, his back against the other side of the tub. His hands continued pampering
as he lavished the scrub on her feet.

“Yes, I’m still here,” she purred.

“Good, ’cause I don’t want your mind driftin’ anywhere else. I
want your full attention right here, knowin’ it’s my hands makin’ you feel this
way.”

Did he think her mind was on someone else? How could it be?
Not with the way his hands were making her feel. He rested her foot in the
water, and stared into her eyes.

“I like you this way.”

“Which way is that?”

“Open to me.” He put his hands on her knees and opened her
legs. “Put your ankles on the edge of the tub,” he said, as he helped rest them
where he wanted them. “That’s better.”

Tristan’s natural response was to cover herself, but she
didn’t do it. Instead she met his gaze, and looked into his eyes as he again
brought her to the release he was so good at coaxing from her.

“Your turn,” she said after she’d recovered from the orgasm
that shook her to her core.

Bullet closed his eyes and slunk his body deeper into the
water. When he joined her in the bath, he’d planned to hold her while they
soaked, but having her in front of him, naked, was more than he could resist.
He wanted his hands on her, everywhere at once. His brain wanted him to take
his time, but the rest of him refused to listen.