The Trouble with Texas Cowboys (Burnt Boot, Texas #2)(62)

Jill cupped his cheeks in her hands and took the first step to deepen the kiss. Desire fanned the fires of arousal until they were both panting. He moved from her lips to her neck, nuzzling, tasting, driving her crazy.

With one tug, all the snaps of his shirt popped open, and she buried her face in the soft black hair covering his bare chest. He groaned, and she shifted her weight until she was sitting in his lap.

It should not happen, but it was going to. Plain and simple. She wanted Sawyer. She needed him, and not even an act of God was going to stop what they’d started.

His hands circled her small waist and slowly made their way up under her shirt, massaging the tension from her muscles as he traveled upward. “You’d best say stop now if you are going to,” he said hoarsely.

“We’d be a hell of a lot more comfortable on your bed, and we wouldn’t wake the children,” she answered.

Think before you say yes, her inner voice said.

No, she argued. When you start to dissect something and analyze your findings, it’s already dead. And this feels so right.

He gave her one more chance. “Then you are not saying stop?”

She drew his lips down to hers and answered him with passion.

He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, and she shut the door so the kittens wouldn’t disturb them. She slid down his frame and stood before him, eyes locked with his as she removed his shirt, undid his belt and zipper, and slid his jeans off.

“Commando.” She smiled.

He buried his face in her hair and said, “We call it goin’ cowboy, not commando. That’s for the military guys. Now it’s my turn, darlin’, and I open presents like I talk—real slow.”

His mouth started at her neck and moved down to the tops of her breasts, then suddenly the bra hooks were undone, and he slid both bra and shirt down her arms, covering every inch of her skin with kisses. She pressed her breasts against his chest, and her insides melted into a hot puddle.

Nothing was ever definite, but in that moment, Jill’s soul had found a permanent home. And Sawyer was definitely a part of it. He removed her jeans, bikini underwear, and socks, and walked her backwards to the edge of the bed.

“I need you.” Sawyer reached for a condom and quickly put it on.

“Not as bad as I want you.” She fell onto the bed and pulled him down on top of her. She arched, and he slid inside, his lips never leaving hers. The world disappeared. She and Sawyer were wrapped in a cocoon inside a vacuum. She heard nothing but his hard breath and felt nothing but his body, lips, and hands. She wanted nothing but more and more of what Sawyer delivered.

She tried to hold back, but it wasn’t possible. “Sawyer,” she moaned, and the cocoon unraveled, the vacuum exploded, and he collapsed.

She reached up and cupped his face. “That was amazing.”

His lips found hers once more and he moved to one side, wrapping both arms around her and keeping her near. He pulled the covers over them and whispered, “Stay with me all night, Jill. Don’t leave.”

“My legs wouldn’t let me even if I wanted to,” she said.





Chapter 20


Jill stood under the shower, pulsating water rinsing the shampoo from her hair. For the first time since she’d arrived on Burnt Boot, she didn’t want to get rid of the barroom smell. The smoke and beer mixed together reminded her of the amazing night she’d spent with Sawyer.

She wrapped a towel around her wet hair and slipped her arms into a thick emerald-green terry cloth robe. Shutting her eyes, she went back to the previous night. Now it was time for the awkward moment when they had to say that it was a one-night stand and start dissecting things. Number one: they had to live together, so it was a bad idea. Number two: they had to work together at three different jobs, so it was a bad idea. Number three: neither of them really trusted in lasting relationships, so it was a bad idea.

A phone rang, and she recognized her aunt Polly’s ringtone, so she hurried out of Sawyer’s bedroom. Kittens chased her toes peeking out from the bottom of the robe as she almost dived to the sofa toward her phone and answered it on the fourth ring with a giggle.

“What’s so funny this morning?” Polly asked.

“Piggy and Chick.” Jill sat down on the sofa, and the two kittens climbed the tail of her robe all the way to her shoulder.

“And they are?”

“Kittens,” Jill said.

“Well, thank God you don’t have pigs and chickens living in the bunkhouse. Where did you get kittens?” Polly asked.

Sawyer put a cup of coffee in her hands and kissed her on the forehead. “Good mornin’,” he whispered.

“Do those cats talk?”

“No, that was Sawyer.”

“He’s a good man—that Sawyer is. You’d do well to wake up and see what’s right in front of your nose. Now tell me more about the kittens. Did y’all find that litter in Gladys’s hay barn? Old mama cat must’ve been gone, or you wouldn’t have gotten near them. She’ll scratch your eyes out if you even look at her babies.”

“Quaid brought in Ollie. I named her that after the pig in a kid’s movie about a spider and a pig. Then in a little bit, Tyrell brought in a yellow cat, and I named it Audrey after a chicken in another kid’s movie. But Sawyer calls them Piggy and Chick,” she said.