Rough Rider (Hot Cowboy Nights, #2)(23)

“Nope. But it’s OK,” she blurted. “I really want this. I’m twenty-one. Isn’t it past time?”

He stepped back with a groan. “Look, Red. Age has nothing to do with it. If that’s your motivation, we’re doing this for all the wrong reasons.”

“No!” she protested. “That’s not what I meant.”

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I don’t know what you want from me, but what I want is the truth. Why tonight? Why me?”

She swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat didn’t budge. It was indeed the moment of truth. “B-because I want you,” she whispered. “I wanted you the minute you showed your face at my door. Nope, scratch that. I’ve wanted you ever since the day I saw you on the high school rodeo team, only I was too young even to understand what it was I wanted. But now I do. Understand. And I’m not sixteen anymore.”

His brows came together and his mouth hardened. “I don’t get it. Why me?”

“I don’t know. You’re just different from the others. I knew it would be better with you than with anyone else.”

He shook his head slowly. “I sure don’t know what to make of that.”

“What about you?” she asked. “Why did you come here tonight? There must have been someone else you could have called.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “It’s been a shitty night. I was feelin’ pretty low. I just started walkin’ and then I found myself here… Maybe I was hoping I’d be welcome at your door.”

“Maybe you were right… So where does that leave us?”

“I don’t know, Red. This is new territory.”

“Have you changed your mind because I don’t know what I’m doing?” she asked.

“Hell, no. That’s not it. It’s just you and me. I didn’t expect this.”

“Neither did I…but that doesn’t mean I didn’t hope for the right time…the right one.”

“And you think that’s me?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I know it is. I’ve always wanted it to be you. Now I’ve told you everything.” With her heart in her throat she gazed up into his face. His expression was harsh and unreadable. She swallowed hard and whispered, “Do you still want to? Want me?”

He stepped into her, murmuring only inches from her mouth, “If we just take this nice and slow, I think we’ll figure it out.” Cupping her nape, he kissed her again. Long and deep, his tongue tangling with hers, sending ripples low into her belly. He withdrew from the kiss and brought his fingers to her lips. “Open. Get me wet.”

She sucked his fingers into her mouth. When she released him, he urged her legs farther apart and slid his hand up her thigh. “Shut your eyes,” he commanded.

She closed her lids on a shudder of pleasure, basking in the sensation of his mouth on her breasts and his wet fingers circling her entrance. He probed inside her. “That hurt?”

“No. It feels…good.” She shifted her hips, urging him deeper.

He added another finger and moved it inside, sliding in and out with ease. The hair of his thighs abraded her as he positioned himself once more between her thighs. “Open up. Wider.” He urged her legs apart. “Try to relax now. I promise I’ll go slow.”

Janice willed her body to relax and her passage to open. Dirk hovered over her, his brows contracted, his face drawn taut as he penetrated her in a slow and steady push that simultaneously stretched and filled her.

The pressure continued, as he advanced inch by inch until he was seated with his sex pulsing, hot and hard, deep inside hers. There was a little discomfort but not the pain she’d expected. For long seconds, they remained perfectly still, the silence filled only with her own heartbeat.

“You OK?” Dirk asked at last. He wore a look of fierce concentration. Veins stood out in his neck and arms, and sweat beaded his brow.

She released the breath she’d been holding. “Yes.” She’d barely voiced her reply when he began moving inside her. “Sweet heaven,” she moaned. It was surreal. It was sublime. Her inner muscles clenched and contracted around him. She angled her hips to take him deeper.

He exhaled a hiss. “Sweetheart, if you do that again, I’m not gonna last thirty seconds.”

She grinned up at him. “But I thought cowboys only went for eight anyway.”

His body suddenly trembled, shaking the rickety table beneath her. It was a moment before she realized the tremors and low rumble was laughter. She joined in the tension-breaking burst of mirth until tears streamed both down their cheeks. They were still tightly joined when Dirk wiped a hand across his eyes.

“Maybe I can do better than that if I try real hard.”

“You think so?” she challenged.

“I think it’ll all depend on how badly you wanna buck me off.”

“Maybe I don’t wanna buck you off, cowboy.” Janice dug her heels into his flanks urging him deeper. When he moved again inside her, all humor died away, supplanted by sensations that stole her breath. “Please. Don’t stop. I don’t want this to end,” she whispered.

Ever remained unspoken.

*

Janice never closed her eyes all night, too afraid to wake up and find him gone. Instead, she lay beside him on the mattress in the gooseneck, under the faint glow of her night-light, simply watching him sleep. She’d never had an opportunity to study him at such close quarters before, and, damn, if he wasn’t worth the study—even bruised and busted up as he was. Her gaze shifted to his face, both manly and boyish with thick lashes casting shadows above his chiseled and bruised cheekbones. His mouth was slightly parted and he snored softly. His nose was probably broken, but she suspected that would only add to his appeal—not that he needed any help in that department. He was already devastating as far as she was concerned.