Cowboy 12 Pack Page 7

  “Deal.”

  AS USUAL, BROCK awoke early. Not as usual, there was an incredible woman in his bed. As Hank had said the morning Brock received his early Christmas gift, Brock was more accustomed to bar hook-ups where he could leave as soon as the deed was done. That sounded so cold, now that he thought about it. But he’d always made sure the lady got what she needed too.

  However, oral sex wasn’t something he passed out like Valentine candy. With Natalie, he’d been almost frantic to taste her. She’d been like a drug. He wanted more. He craved more.

  Behind him, a very naked Natalie Diamond lay curled on her side, her hand alongside her face. Her thick, blonde hair lay in waves and curls on the pillow. Her side dipped in at her waist then flared again at her hips.

  He wanted to grab her, take her from behind, but he’d had her three times more after they’d gone to bed, the last one being only a couple of hours ago.

  This was crazy. She was making him crazy. Her laugh, her smile and, hell’s bells, even wrapping one of the curls in her hair around his finger made his balls ache with need. His cock strained with a morning erection.

  She drew in a deep breath and let it out. Her eyelids flickered open. She stared across the room for a moment then rolled to her back and looked up at him. A smile slowly stretched across her lips.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “Morning to you. Sleep good?”

  She stretched her arms over her head, which pulled the sheet down, exposing her plump breasts. His cock, already stiff, grew painfully rigid at the sight.

  “Hmm,” she purred. “I feel wonderful.”

  He leaned over and caught her breast in his lips, sucking it hard and deep into his mouth, while rolling the nipple of her other breast between his fingers. He pulled her nipple, loving how it stretched and elongated at his touch.

  Natalie threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled as she moaned and shifted her hips on the mattress. When she scratched her nails into his scalp, he sucked firmly on one nipple and pinched the other.

  “God, that feels so good,” she cried out. “Don’t stop.”

  He didn’t. Instead, he shoved the sheet down to her knees, where he could catch it with his foot and jerk it off the bed. Then he slipped his free hand between her thighs and found her hot and wet and ready for him.

  “Damn, woman,” he growled. “You’re so wet.” He slid a finger up and down her cleft. “So fucking wet.”

  When he pushed three fingers inside, she arched up from the bed with a cry. She moved her hips back and forth as he slid in and out.

  “That’s right, Nat. Fuck my fingers. Come all over my hand.”

  She groaned and pumped herself on his fingers. A flush started on her chest and climbed up her neck to her cheeks. She was fucking beautiful as she strained to reach her climax. What someone like her was doing with a rough cowboy like him baffled him, but damned if he was going to ask any questions. Arousal fluid poured from her onto his hand and he ached to suck her dry. When he pulled his hand from her, her head whipped up.

  “What’s wrong?”

  The frantic look on her face made him laugh.

  “Not a damn thing that my mouth on you won’t fix.”

  He grabbed a pillow off the floor. “Lift your hips.”

  She did, and he crammed the pillow under them, raising her higher on the mattress. That put her at a perfect height for his mouth and his eyes.

  He sucked her sex between his lips as he stabbed his tongue into her valley. Fluid gushed into his mouth as he drank from her. Shoving his hands under her ass, he slid his middle finger down her ass crack, and he wondered if she would stop him from fingering her there.

  She didn’t. Instead, she shifted slightly to give him better access to the opening.

  He pressed his middle finger in up to his first knuckle. She gasped. She was tight, so tight he suspected anal play wasn’t something she did often, if ever. He stopped everything and waited for a minute.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes,” she grunted out as she pressed her ass down on his finger.

  He pushed his finger in up to the middle knuckle. She hissed and then moaned.

  He pulled his finger back and thrust it all the way in, roughly and firmly. She wiggled.

  “Feel good?” he asked and ran his tongue around her clit.

  “Can’t. Speak,” she gasped out.

  He sucked her rigid nub into his mouth while he turned his finger in her ass. She bucked and cried out his name.

  He pulled away from her long enough to slide on a condom, then drove his dick deep inside her. She was still coming. That realization punched him in the gut. She dug her heels into the bed and pushed as he pounded into her. Her second climax came quickly. He lasted only one more stroke before he followed her over the edge.

  As they lay with their limbs entwined, Brock’s mind worked to understand the emotions flooding him. Emotions he hadn’t expected and definitely emotions he hadn’t felt for anyone other than family in a long, long time.

  Chapter Nine

  ‡

  THE DAYS PASSED quickly. Too quickly. She only went back to her cabin for changes of clothes. She spent every night with Brock, in his bed, in his arms.

  Today was December twenty-third, the last day with Brock. Natalie sighed and rolled onto her back. When she reached for him, the bed was empty, but that wasn’t all that surprising. She’d discovered quite quickly that he rose with the chickens, as her grandmother used to say.

  Pulling the covers up to her chin, she stared at the ceiling and thought about the past nine days. The entire vacation felt like the best erotic dream she had ever experienced.

  Days had been ideal. Sunny. Mid-seventies. Light breezes.

  The nights might have been fantasies, only she could have never dreamed these up. Her sexual experiences consisted mostly of her giving Tim oral sex, him responding with a couple of minutes of foreplay, and then sex in the missionary position.

  Sex with Brock had opened her eyes to a whole new world. A world where she wasn’t responsible for her own pleasure. A world where nothing was taboo. Her approach to life and love would never be the same. She was reborn and starting all over with love.

  She pulled his pillow to her and wrapped her arms around it. How do you thank a man for opening you to new feelings? New realities?

  And worse, how do you let go and forget a man like Brock Wade?

  She had to. She knew that. This was a vacation fling. Pure and simple. Neither of them asked the other for anything but a good time. He had delivered on that. She hoped he felt the same way.

  In fact, she hoped he left with wonderful memories of their time together. While she could admit she wasn’t ready for it to be over, that admission would only be to herself. Never to him. She didn’t want to be the type of woman who clung like ivy to bricks to a guy just because they’d had sex.

  “Morning, gorgeous.”

  If nothing else, Brock had been great for her self-esteem.

  Her male fantasy stood in the doorway, a cup of coffee in each hand. She scooted up in bed.

  “Coffee in bed. I could get used to this.” Even as the words left her mouth she wanted to cringe at the implication that she might be suggesting something long term. But Brock didn’t give any indication that he noticed.

  “You know, this coffee could come with strings attached,” he said, walking over to the bed.

  Natalie hiked an eyebrow. “Such as?”

  “I don’t know yet. Naked bowling, maybe.”

  She burst out laughing at the image that formed in her mind. “That might not be a pretty sight.”

  He grinned and handed her a cup. His face sobered. “Our last day.”

  Her pulse kicked up a notch at his words. So he’d realized it too.

  “I know.” She sipped the black gold from the cup and sighed. “They do have the best coffee here.”

  He hip-bumped her. “Scoot over.”

  When she did,
he sat on the mattress, leaned against the headboard, and stretched out his legs.

  “So, what’s on the agenda today?” Natalie asked. “Parasailing again? Jet skis? Shopping? Yacht ride around the harbor?”

  He laughed at the last one. “No yachts.” His face got pensive. “A last ride around the resort, a nice dinner catered to the terrace, and you by my side. That’s what I want for today.”

  She dropped her head onto his shoulder, still amazed at the powerful muscles there, and sighed. “Sounds lovely.”

  He wrapped his hand around the back of her head and pulled her over for a kiss.

  “Breakfast at the beach?” he asked.

  “Of course. Give me ten minutes.” She slipped from the bed and raced to the bathroom.

  When she joined him on the terrace, he was staring out at the ocean. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she asked, “You okay?”

  He pulled her arms tighter. “Yep. For a vacation I didn’t want, I’m not ready for it to be over.”

  She pressed her cheek to his back. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

  They stood there for a minute, both of them lost in their own memories of the last nine days. Finally, Brock blew out a long breath. “I see the waiter on the beach setting up our breakfast. Ready?”

  “Starved.”

  He laughed and pulled her around him until he could loop an arm over her shoulder. “We did burn up a few calories last night.”

  “And the night before that and the night before that,” she said as they started walking toward the beach.

  Brock loved to surprise her with breakfast. She never knew what he’d ordered until the cover was removed, but so far he’d hit a home run every time. This morning was freshly-squeezed orange juice, more coffee (natch), Belgian waffles with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, and bacon. By the end of the meal, they’d decided to order a bowl of whipped cream with dinner, regardless of what dessert they ordered. In fact, Brock suggested only whipped cream for dessert, and she’d laughed.

  The ride around the island was bittersweet. Natalie took her camera and shot pictures of everything, including Brock scowling when she aimed the camera at him, which only made her snap more.

  That evening, dinner arrived as the sun was setting. The deep blue of the sky blended into purple, then pink, then orange at the water’s edge.

  “I wish I were a painter,” Natalie said with a sigh. “Even my camera can’t capture the beauty of the scene in front of me.”

  “I know what you mean,” Brock said. “Beautiful.”

  She looked over to say something more about the setting sun and found Brock staring at her. Heat flushed her neck and up to her cheeks.

  “I meant the sunset,” she said.

  “I didn’t,” he replied. “I meant you.”

  She cupped his cheek in her hand. “This week has been the best of my life.”

  He turned his head to place a kiss in her palm. “Mine too.”

  Their final dinner together was a reprisal of their first…prime rib and key lime pie. The meat was tender and perfect, but Natalie could barely swallow around the lump that’d formed in her throat.

  After dinner, after the sun had totally deserted them and the moon played hide-and-seek with the clouds, Brock pulled her onto the cushioned recliner on the terrace. She sat between his thighs, her back and head resting on his marble-like chest. He propped his chin on the top of her head, and they just sat there watching waves roll in.

  Her mood was much like the waves…high one minute and crashing the next. Three or four times she searched her brain for the right words to say, but she realized she didn’t know what she wanted to tell Brock.

  Thank you. You rocked my world.

  Yeah, that seemed a little desperate.

  But not as desperate as, don’t leave me, and she’d had that thought too.

  Brock sighed a few times but seemed content to sit and hold her.

  For some reason, the sitting and holding felt more intimate right now than if they’d been having wild monkey sex. Not that wild monkey sex would have been bad. Hell, no. That’d been awesome too, but this quiet time felt right. It felt as though both of them were soaking up the scents and feel of the other. Making memories to last a lifetime.

  At ten, Brock kissed her neck. “It’s getting late.”

  She shrugged. “I’m packed and ready. It won’t take me long in the morning.”

  “Not what I meant. What I should have said was that I want to spend our last hours together naked and in bed.”

  A smile crawled on her mouth. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. And I’m pretty sure I’m ready to talk about the strings that were attached to this morning’s coffee.”

  She twisted until her legs swung off the chair and she was sitting sideways. She wrapped her hand around his neck and jerked him forward into a hot, deep, long kiss.

  “Something like that?”

  “I do love how you can read my mind.”

  BROCK WAS UP long before the five a.m. alarm. He finished all his morning necessities before walking back into the bedroom to wake Natalie. For a few minutes, he just stood and watched her sleep. Her full lips puckered as she let out a little snore, which made him smile. If only she didn’t snore, she’d be perfect.

  Ah, hell. Who was he kidding? She was perfect. Perfect for him.

  Yes, he realized they’d only known each other for less than two weeks, but his mother had always told him that when it was right, he would know.

  He knew.

  What he didn’t know was exactly how Natalie felt about him. They hadn’t discussed feelings. He was anxious that she would feel pressured if he started blurting out professions of love.

  Besides, wasn’t it the woman who was supposed to be the touchy-feely one? Shouldn’t she be all emotional about leaving him? If she was, she sure hid it well.

  “Stop staring at me,” she growled and rolled over.

  “And good morning to you too,” he said brightly.

  “Bite me. Wake me when breakfast gets here. You wore me out last night.”

  “No breakfast this morning, Natalie. Remember?”

  Her movements stopped abruptly at his words. “Right. Going home today. What time is it?”

  “Almost five. You’ve got about ninety minutes, but we have to load our luggage, return the cars, check out, and get to the airport by then. I’m done in the bathroom if you want it.”

  She threw the covers back, the sight of her naked body sending him from semi-hard to painfully rigid in two breaths.

  “Fine. Fine. I’m up,” she said.

  When she stretched her arms over her head, he almost tackled her back on the mattress and screwed her silly. But then she stood and walked past him, giving him a slap on his ass on her way to the bathroom.

  The time flew and, before he realized it, they were climbing the stairs to the airplane. Their seats weren’t together, but he fixed that by convincing a woman to exchange seats so he could sit by Natalie on the flight to San Juan. He took her hand at take-off and held it through the short thirty-minute hop flight.

  AT THE SAN Juan airport, he asked about upgrading to first class to sit with Natalie. When he couldn’t, she asked about joining him in coach. But the flight was full and exchanges and upgrades were not happening.

  They found seats in the boarding area.

  “Brock. I don’t know if I’ll see you once we get to Memphis. I just want to tell you that this time together has been…” She choked a little. Saying good-bye was going to be harder than she’d thought. “It’s been wonderful.”

  “It doesn’t have to end. Come home with me. I can get off in Memphis. We can drive to the ranch. It’s only about four hours or so.”

  “Oh. That is so sweet, but it’s Christmas Eve. Your family is expecting you, not you and a guest.”

  “They’d love to meet you. I’m sure. I can call home when we get to Memphis and let them know.”

  She felt her resolve to not go falteri
ng. “I don’t know, Brock. Christmas is such a family holiday.”

  He took her hand. “I don’t want you to be alone tonight and tomorrow. Nobody should be alone at Christmas.”

  Before she could answer, the gate crew started boarding. She stood when they called first class. Brock didn’t release her hand.

  “Think about it. I would love for you to come to Ace-In-The Hole. You should be with people at Christmas.”

  She nodded and leaned forward to kiss him. She pulled her hand from his and walked down the gateway to the plane.

  By the time Brock’s seat number was called, the plane was crowded, people shoving boxes and sacks into every free inch of space they could find. He gave her a wink as he passed.

  During the flight, she replayed their time together at the Sand Castle. Replayed their gate conversation.

  And then it hit her.

  He’d said he didn’t want her to be alone at Christmas. She wanted to slap her forehead. Of course. That’s why he asked her to come to his house. Duh. Being the great guy that he was, he felt sorry for her and wanted to do what he could. That made all the sense in the world.

  The smart thing would be to get off the plane, grab her luggage from luggage claim, and wish him a nice life. Be mature about the whole sleeping together thing. They were adults. They’d had consensual sex. Okay, maybe consensual wild monkey sex but it’d been sex, not a life-long commitment.

  In Memphis, she was first off the plane and didn’t wait for him. She hurried down to luggage claim and prayed her luggage would get loaded on the carousel first.

  Of course it didn’t. She was still standing there, waiting for the red light to blink and the conveyor belt to move, when she saw Brock striding toward her. His face looked tight, angry.

  “You didn’t wait for me,” was his opening line.

  “Was I supposed to?” Stupid response, but even though her heart was pounding gallons of blood through her body at a rapid rate none of it seemed to be reaching her brain.

  “What’s going on, Natalie?” He took her arm and pulled her off to the side. “Talk to me.”

  She glanced nervously at the carousel, which remained frozen and quiet, then she looked at him.