Shoulda Been a Cowboy (Rough Riders #7)(20)

Neither attempted to move. Their labored breathing was the only sound in the room.


Finally, Cam said, “Hang on. I’ll get a towel.” A gush of wetness ran down her leg. She heard him yank his pants up and fumble with the belt. Water ran in the kitchen sink.


She pushed up, unnerved by his rapid retreat. Would he reset the distance between them again? An anxious feeling bloomed, but when she spun around, Cam was right there. Kissing her in that sinful way of his. Gently mopping the stickiness between her thighs.


“You said it’d been a while. Are you sore?”


“A little.”


“Sore enough to keep me from having you again?”


Immediately her nipples hardened with interest. “Right now?”


“If I could get it up right now, it’d be right now. And then I’d wanna do it again right after that. But I need a little recovery time first.” He smoothed her dress down. “I’m getting old.”


“How old are you?”


“Between thirty and death,” he deadpanned.


“Funny.” She spied her panties on the floor. As she reached for them, Cam’s rough-skinned hand circled her wrist.


“Huh-uh. No panties while you’re here today.”


“I hope we’re not going horseback riding.”


He chuckled. “Nope.”


“If I’m minus an article of clothing, you should be too.”


A cool appraisal settled on Cam’s face. “Oh yeah? Like what?”


“Ditch your shirt.”


Cam didn’t budge.


Chances were good Domini didn’t have the nerve to push him on this issue.


“I’m not backing down. Show me your chest.”


Secretly pleased to see feistiness lurking beneath her placid demeanor, Cam yanked the tank top over his head.


She whistled.


He blushed, grateful she didn’t focus on the ugly shrapnel marks and gouges marring the skin on his belly. And on his chest. Marks that were all over the goddamn place.


Those marks aren’t nearly as ugly as your stump.


She flattened her palms on his chest and kissed his scowling mouth.


Naturally his stomach chose that moment to rumble with hunger. “Sorry.”


“I’m hungry too. What do you have to eat?”


“Not much.”


“I’m sure I could figure something out. Mind if I poke around in your kitchen?”


“Have at it.”


Cam stood behind Domini as she surveyed the meager contents of his refrigerator. Milk. Beer. Condiments. Cheese. Lunch meat. Grapes. A half a loaf of wheat bread.


“Pretty sad, huh?”


“What do you cook?”


“I don’t cook.”


“Why not?”


“Never needed to learn.”


She tossed sandwich fixings on the counter and washed her hands. “Some of us had no choice.”


“Is that why you know so much about cooking?”


“Yes. Can you get me a knife?”


Cam rummaged in a drawer and set a dull butcher knife and a bread knife on the counter. “Where did you learn?”


“Hands on mostly. The church group that brought me to the U.S. had missionary outreach posts all over the states. We traveled a lot. We’d have to fix three meals a day for the church leaders and members who were out spreading the word.”


“How long did you do that?”


“Day in, day out for years. Until I realized I could apply for citizenship and escaped.” She gestured to the cupboards. “Will you grab plates?”


“Sure.” Cam didn’t ask questions but he knew there was way more to the story than the bits she’d shared.


They sat side by side and ate. His ham and cheese sandwiches never tasted this good, even if he used the same damn ingredients. Might be sappy, but little domestic things like this made him feel cared for, probably because these cozy moments were so rare in his life. He glanced over at her and his glass of milk stopped halfway to his mouth.


Domini’s fingers fondled the two fat purple grapes left on her plate. Gauging the tightness and fullness of the globes containing all that sweet juice, she plucked one from the vine and popped it in her mouth.



Lust slammed into him. Instantly Cam envisioned her long fingers rolling his balls like that. Teasing them with feathery touches. He imagined the moist heat of her breath, down low between his inner thighs, right before she sucked the sac into her mouth.


He must’ve groaned because Domini whipped around.


Her eyes widened as if she’d peeked inside his brain. But he didn’t see shock in the pale blue depths, just interest. When her mouth softened, Cam couldn’t keep his hands off her another second.


His glass hit the counter. He stood and lifted her to her feet, then his mouth claimed hers in blistering kiss. God he loved how wickedly eager her tongue was sliding beside his. How recklessly and hotly she writhed against him.