Cowboy Strong. Kelli Ireland
robe and stood before her, gloriously nude and unashamed of his body. His abs tightened as she touched the muscled ridges and valleys, tracing the chiseled six-pack of his torso, the ropy lengths of muscle in his arms and the corded strength in his legs. The way his lats cut down his abs and framed his long, thick arousal. She let her gaze linger there, and that seemed to be his undoing.
Scooping her up, he sank onto the bed and rolled to his back, placing her on top of him. He ran a hand around the back of her neck and pulled her down as he rose toward her. Stopping millimeters from their mouths colliding, his hot breath washed over her.
She licked her bottom lip. They were so close her tongue brushed over the soft skin of his full lower lip. The faint taste of mint lingered there as the scent did on his breath.
Ty’s eyes flared, pupils dilated as he closed the last of the distance between them, claiming her mouth without hesitation. Tongues dueled, lips sucked and harsh breaths wound together in something akin to demands, not requests, made by desperate lovers.
It was a war she wanted to fight forever, one she might never want to win.
Lying back, he encouraged her to straddle his hips. He bent his knees, pushing her forward. Her dark red curls fell in a curtain around them to create the sensation they were cocooned, the world forever far away. He broke this kiss, the rapid rise and fall of his chest mirroring hers. “Hell’s fires, woman. Give a man a chance.”
Kenzie traced his bottom lip with her thumb, clenching her thighs around his hips when he nipped her finger. “Chance to what?”
“Seduce you.” In a swift move, he rolled her over. “It was supposed to be a drawn-out seduction, with me doing the seducing.”
“And...” Kenzie prompted.
“I’m the one being seduced. Your mouth should come with a warning label.”
“It does,” she said, lowering her face to his and kissing him slowly this time, in a leisurely exploration, tasting him, sipping from his mouth, running her hands over his pecs and wrapping her legs around his waist.
He broke away only to bury his face in the crook of her neck. “You wreck me.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” she teased, tracing her fingers lightly down his rib cage.
Ty sucked in a breath and shivered. Without looking, he reached over the edge of the bed and dug through his robe, retrieving a condom. “I can’t wait, Kenzie. I wanted to, but this first time is going to be rough, fast. I need...” He shrugged, fumbling with the wrapper until, cursing, he sat back on his knees and sheathed his length. “I really want...” he began again.
Those words again—need, want—used in relation to her. “We’re dancing to the same tune, Ty.”
Eyes narrowing and mouth tightening to a thin line, he took her arm and gently pulled. “Roll over.” She followed his direction only to have him grasp her hips and lift. “On your knees, Mackenzie.”
She’d barely assumed the position when he pulled her down his entire length with enough strength to make her cry out with a surprised thrill. “Tyson!”
He pushed her shoulders to the mattress. “Arms wide.”
She complied, but slowly, earning a quick slap to the ass that set more than her skin on fire. He rubbed his hand over the stinging skin and whispered words of encouragement to her. Then he began to thrust and retreat. All she could do was feel, experience and indulge in Tyson.
His fingers dug into her hips as he pumped faster. “Hold on to the sheets and don’t let go.”
Arching her back and lifting her rear higher earned his praise as well as a heartfelt curse. “Can’t...baby... I can’t...” He reached around her and found her clitoris, manipulating it almost frantically as the arm that held him up shook and his rhythm faltered.
Orgasm crashed into her and she offered his name to the heavens in a soulful cry, his voice joining hers. Their fingers wove together, tightening, as they grounded each other through the emotional onslaught.
When it passed, Kenzie relaxed her hand and made to turn over, but Ty gently lowered himself onto her back. “You know better than to think we’re done, darlin’.”
“It’s late, Ty,” she contentedly murmured into the pillow.
He rained kisses all over her shoulders. “It’s never too late for round two, Mackenzie.”
Hiding her face in her pillow, she smiled.
That was exactly what she’d hoped he’d say.
TY LET KENZIE drift off to sleep around 4:30 a.m. before quietly gathering his things to leave. Door open, the light from the hallway cutting through the room’s darkness, he glanced back. She looked like a fallen angel with her nude body spread across the bed, lips kiss swollen and hair in disarray. Long lashes fluttered against her cheeks and opened enough to reveal the brilliant blue of her eyes. Her soft sigh revealed her immediate understanding that he was leaving.
Normally that would be Ty’s cue to go. But there was something about Kenzie, something about the way she’d given herself to him tonight, that rode his conscience. For the first time, Ty wanted to stay, to see the night through and wake up to her face in the morning. It was the strangest sensation, this foreign need to wake up with a woman in his arms. Not just any woman, but this woman.
He strode back to the bed. Ignoring her unguarded surprise, he bent over her and kissed her, all tongue and teeth and heat. She responded, arching into the hand he placed on her breast and wrapping a hand around the arm parked next to her head.
The ever-simmering ember of desire that lay between them fanned to life, the flame licking at the base of his spine as his shaft thickened.
“Stay,” she whispered against his mouth, tracing his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue.
He tried to imagine waking up to her beautiful face, tried to imagine her hair spread over his pillow. Sure, he could see it, but he could also imagine it being the beginning of something much larger, something he hadn’t ever believed he would want. The longer he thought of the possible consequences, the more actively hesitation shoved at his willingness to try. It took only seconds for hesitation to win the battle, if not the war.
Ty stood. “I can’t, darlin’. You know I’ve got to be up early.” Without a word, she watched as he retied his robe with fumbling fingers. “I’ll see you in the morning?”
Still, she said nothing.
He left as quickly as he’d arrived, anxiety driving him into the hall and all the way to his room. Whatever she’d wanted from him sexually, she’d definitely gotten. Beyond that? He refused to examine their exchange too closely.
Sleep dogged his heels when, several minutes later, he slipped into his room and quietly shut the door. He’d preset the alarm on his smartphone before knocking on Kenzie’s door, ensuring he’d be up early enough he wouldn’t have to rush to the barn. Shuffling through the dark room, he paused to set the desktop radio alarm as a backup, shed his robe and then collapsed onto his bed. The air conditioner’s sharp click preceded the smell of refrigerated air, slightly canned and stale, as it swept across the room. For all that he preferred the outdoors, the artificially cooled air was bliss on his overheated skin. Air-conditioning always helped him sleep.
The robe tangled around his legs and he kicked at it even as he tried to retrieve the covers. No luck. The cooler he grew, the more determined he was to simply stop fighting and give in to sleep. Without at least a few z’s, it would be pointless for him to show up in the arena in—he cracked one eye and peered at the clock—less than four hours. Gizmo deserved more than that from him. His eyes drifted shut.
Sometime later, he woke with a start and the absolute, sickening certainty he was late. A quick check of his watch