But Bailey’s voice is saccharine-sweet when she says, ‘That sounds really nice. My treat—to thank you all for being so hospitable.’
‘Oh, Bailey, that’s not necessary. Welcoming people is just the Donovan way,’ Austin says, lifting his hat off his head an inch before replacing it and skirting around us, toward the open barn door. ‘See y’all in about an hour?’
‘Sounds good.’ Bailey smiles innocently at Austin until he’s gone, and then smirks at me. ‘Is that a problem, cowboy?’ She knows full well it is. Because if the expression on my face matches how I’m feeling, I must be pretty damn easy to read right now.
‘No.’
‘Liar,’ she intones softly, moving her sweet, soft body close to mine, so my legs shift of their own accord to either side of hers, and my hands cup her face, holding her steady.
‘You tryin’ to make me beg, Bailey James?’
‘Is it working?’
I breathe her in, all that honey and vanilla sweetness, that delicious, tempting mix of her, and close my eyes. ‘Fuck, yeah, it’s working. I need you more than I’ve ever needed a damned thing,’ I admit, throwing any hint of caution to the wind and cupping her ass, just like I’ve been longing to do. Her breath escapes on an audible rush, and then she’s scrambling up me, as I half-lift her, wrapping her legs around my waist.
‘Someone could see us,’ she groans, as I hold her against my rock-hard self and run my lips over the delicate skin of her throat. ‘Oh, god, Beau, someone could see.’ But her words are a surrender to the inevitable, just like my actions.
I drag my mouth to hers, kissing her, as I move us down the stables to the end, where there are several stalls that haven’t been used for years.
‘This isn’t the Ritz either,’ I say, as I slam the door shut and slide the bolt across, then go back to kissing her.
‘Don’t care,’ she groans when she can, driving herself down on me, like she can’t bear the clothes that separate us. ‘Fuck me, Beau, fuck me here, please.’
I ignore the voice that’s telling me she’s the most perfect woman I’ve ever known, and start cursing the clothes we’re wearing instead. Way too many clothes. I set her down only out of practicality, my hands working quickly to rip her shirt over her head, my mouth returning to hers almost immediately, kissing her hard, until she’s whimpering aloud. I push her back against the wall, my hands working between us to get her out of these goddamn perfect jeans and then, while she tries to dothe same to me, I’m brushing my fingers over her sex, fast and demanding, as my mouth taunts hers then drops to her throat and finally to one of her breasts, sucking on her nipple until she screams my name.
I will never get tired of hearing that.
‘Beau, I’m coming,’ she cries, and I pull my hand away, only so I can drop to my knees and torment her with my mouth instead, my tongue moving over her, sucking on her most sensitive place, while her hands drag through my hair, wild and fast. ‘Beau,’ she whispers, and my hands curve around her ass, holding her right against me as I taste her climax and revel in her perfection. Afterward I don’t give her long to recover; I can’t. I’m falling apart here.
I drag a condom out of my jeans as I step out of them, pulling her down onto the ground, wincing a little because it’s so not what she deserves, but Bailey doesn’t care. Her only response is to reach for me hungrily, eyes drugged and heavy. I’ve barely kicked off my boots and jeans and I’m thrusting into her on a guttural cry that fills the barn, my mouth craving her other nipple now, my tongue running over it at first then my whole mouth taking her in, sucking until we’re both crying out, her hands driving down my back, our bodies frantic and heated, charged by an electrical current we have no hope of controlling.
‘This … is … heaven …’ she cries, as I tip over the edge. I move my mouth to hers, kissing her, swallowing her praise, swallowing everything she’ll give me, as I bury myself deep and her muscles tighten around me on her passionate, desperate release. A second later, I’m following, my mouth against the curve of her neck as I explode, losing myself completely to her, and not giving a shit about that. Not now. How can I?
Look, obviously I love my family, but at this point in time, I feel like I could pretty much strangle them all. Each and every one of them. Except maybe Beth.
Bailey and I had about three seconds to pull on our clothes before Cole and Caleb walked into the stables, making for an interesting attempt at pretending we were just shooting the breeze about the way horses are trained. After that, we couldn’t shake them. Caleb insisted we get Bailey on a horse. And don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t against the idea of seeing my girl—I’m just going to call her that for now, though only in my mind—on a horse’s back. In the same way I love seeing her in jeans, I love the thought of her riding out here. I have a sneaking suspicion, though she’d probably fight me tooth and nail, that she’d be a natural at ranch life. A natural at living wild and free, letting herself go. All the buttoned-up suits a thing of the past. Out of nowhere, an image of the house I’m going to build comes to mind, only Bailey’s there too, barefoot and smiling, padding around like she owns the place.
Fuck.I’m getting in too deep. I can feel the water up to my throat. It’s the last thing I want, everything I know I need to hide from. So even when I really love the thought of her staying, I’m glad as hell that we have well under a week left.
Maybe by the time Sunday night rolls around, I’ll even be ready to let her go? Just maybe we’ll have both had our fill of this, and the spell will be broken. Yeah. And pigs might fly.
‘More fries?’ Bailey says, her knee brushing mine beneath the table, so I glare at her, because she knows damn well how I’m feeling, and what she’s doing to me. Making love like we did in the stables was hotter than the fires of hell, but it ended too damn quick, and we haven’t had a chance to so much as kiss since then. There’s always someone around, charming her,welcoming her. For once, I wish the Donovans werelessfucking welcoming.
If I didn’t know better, I’d almost say they’d worked out that there was something going on between her and me and were doing their level best to get between us—having a laugh about it all the while. But we’ve been too careful for that. Besides, Beth would never let Cole get away with stomping into the middle of my private life.
Nah, this is just the charm my family’s renowned for, but as much as I like seeing Bailey be folded into the mix, I also resent them like hell for taking away one of our remaining nights.
I stuff a handful of fries in my mouth and send her a perfunctory smile, hear her throaty laugh and want to shout, just to get her focus back on me. Mackenzie says something to Bailey, drawing her attention, and I scowl across the room, my eyes landing on the mechanical bull.
Some college students are standing around it, laughing and pointing, pushing one of the guys forward. He sizes it up, glances back at a tall brunette, then moves to the bar, hands over a note. Randy nods to someone and a second later the kid’s getting up on the bull, Buck Rogers walking out from behind the bar to the control panel, checking to see he’s ready before starting it up.
It doesn’t matter that it’s a mechanical bull. Everything inside me tightens, just like it does at a real rodeo, just like it always does. My blood hammers in my veins, washing through my ears, like the roar of the ocean, as I watch this kid’s body sway side to side. The ground’s padded, I know it can’t hurt him, but once you’ve felt the real thing rushing up at you, it’s hard to let that go.
‘What’s the matter, cowboy?’ Bailey draws my gaze back to her face. ‘You’ve got that look about you.’
‘What look’s that?’
‘Like you can’t breathe till it’s over.’
