CHAPTER 24
Colt’s hands tapped an erratic rhythm on the steering wheel, his foot itching to press the gas pedal to the floor. The closer he drew to Prairie, the slower the time passed. But he knew better than to push eighty in a thirty-five. Weston Tucker, Prairie’s new police chief, would happily write him a big old ticket with a smile on his face.
When they’d talked on the phone the night before, he’d informed Lydia he’d be stopping by Resolution Ranch first, before coming to see her. She’d agreed that was a good idea, but he could hear the disappointment in her voice. He’d be the first to admit, he liked it. More than a part of him had worried that she’d changed her mind after not seeing him in person for a month. They’d FaceTimed nearly every day for the duration, but that wasn’t the same. Something his body could attest to. He’d been sporting a semi the last hundred miles as he imagined reacquainting himself with all of Lydia’s sensitive spots. His mind began to race as he hit the outskirts of town. By the time he hit Prairie’s only stoplight, his mind was made up. Instead of going straight and heading out to his brother’s, he turned left down Main and drove the six blocks to Lydia’s. Travis and Elaine could wait.
Lydia came bounding out of the house as he cut the engine. His throat tightened at the sweetness of her. How could she have grown prettier in the month? Somehow, she had. He hopped out of the truck, catching her in an embrace and swinging her around, not caring if the neighbors saw. He was home.
The comprehension stopped him mid-circle, and he pushed it out of his mind as quickly as it entered. He had a ranch in Steamboat. Prairie was no longer his home. He was just glad to see Lydia, missed the sweet taste of her. That was all. He took her mouth to prove the point to himself.
She twined her arms around his neck, kissing him back enthusiastically. Their breathing was ragged when they separated. “I missed you too.” She grinned up at him.
The tenderness in her eyes made his stomach lurch. “Let’s get you inside,” he urged, ignoring the sensation in his belly. “Don’t want those neighbors to get any ideas.”
She made a noise that sounded a lot like frustration. “Right.”
He followed her inside, stopping short at the overwhelming scent of leather. The living room had been transformed into a factory. Leather and lace strewn over every surface, a dress form in the corner, two industrial machines, one with a partially completed pair of boots next to it. He let out a low whistle, eyes widening. “You’ve been busy.”
“Yeah. You have no idea. We just have to get through the boot shoot, day after tomorrow.” She let out a sigh, body sagging in exhaustion. Colton kicked himself for not noticing sooner. He’d been too happy to see her to look closely. He narrowed his gaze, scanning her from top to bottom. Tension pulled at her shoulders, but it was her hands that alarmed him. They were red and swollen, curled in from too many hours of using scissors and needles. “What happened?” he barked, reaching for her and taking her hand, turning it palm up. The tips of her fingers were torn up. “You’ve been working too hard,” he stated flatly, challenging her to deny it. Let her try, he was having none of it.
She shrugged. “Maybe. Gotta get these orders filled.”
“Not by ruining your body. How many hours are you bent over that machine?” He tipped his head toward the one with the boot next to it.
“I don’t know. Twelve, maybe fourteen hours?”
He let out a fierce growl, pulling her to the couch. “Sit.”
She collapsed into the pillows with a reluctant sigh. “I wasn’t expecting you until later.”
“Good thing I showed up now. You need a rest.”
She pulled her hand, but not very forcefully. “I need to finish this order before we do the boot shoot.”
“Not until you’ve had a rest.” He took her hand in both of his, working his thumbs across the palm of her hand, pressing firmly into her thumb pad.
“Ow,” she yelped.
“Relax your arm. Hell, shut your eyes. Let me work on this.” He attacked the tight muscles with all the techniques he’d learned. “You really need a professional to work on you, but hopefully this will give you some relief.”
“We don’t have a masseuse here.”
He made a disapproving noise. “Then while I’m home, I’ll drive you up to see someone in Manhattan.”
Her head dropped back to the top of the couch, and she shut her eyes. “When I catch up with the orders.”
He had half a mind to throw her over his shoulder and drive her to Manhattan right now. “You won’t be able to finish your orders if you let this go any longer. How bad does it hurt?”
A tear leaked out and slowly rolled down her cheek as he pressed and prodded. “A lot,” she said, voice wavering.
His chest went all achy at her teary reply. She was working too damned hard, and he hated seeing her in this condition. “Can you hire some help?”
She shook her head, not opening her eyes.
“Why not?”
“No one here locally. Emmaline helps when she can, but her dress orders are cranking up. Don’t worry. I’ll get through this. Growing pains.”
Growing pains, his ass. He’d have to figure out how to get her some help. He’d be damned if he stood by quietly while she worked herself to death. He reached for her other hand, repeating his ministrations. She groaned loudly. “Ohmygod, you have no idea how good that feels.” Another tear rolled down her cheek.
That was it. This called for drastic measures. Scooping her into his arms, he stood and marched down the hall toward the bathroom. “Have you been eating?” He swore she felt ten pounds lighter.
“Yes,” she mumbled into his neck.
“Not enough.” He shouldered open the door, depositing her on the toilet and bending to turn on the hot water.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” He pulled up her shirt, startled she lifted her arms without protest. The ache in his chest grabbed at him. He’d been crisscrossing Texas, sleeping in comfy beds, signing autographs, and racking up the wins while she toiled at home, not caring for herself and doing a mighty fine job of keeping up appearances during their FaceTime chats. “You need some TLC,” he said gruffly, whipping off his tee-shirt and tossing it to the floor next to hers. He toed off his boots, not caring that she’d scold. He was in a hurry, dammit. He dropped his jeans and briefs with a clatter, and helped her to stand, pulling off her yoga pants with an easy tug. He pulled back the shower curtain. “Ladies first.”
She gave him a tired smile, but didn’t argue.
He took her in his arms, angling their bodies so the hot water hit between her shoulder blades. A shudder wracked her body as she softened into him. “Just stay here, sweetheart. Let the water do its thing,” he murmured, losing his fingers in her silky hair, breathing her in.
“I’m so tired,” she admitted with a catch in her voice.
“I know. It’s okay. Just rest a bit okay?” She nodded against his chest. He wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, but with a start, he realized the hot water would run out if he wasn’t careful. “Where’s the soap?”
“Corner.”
Reluctantly, he let go of her and turned, momentarily startled at the sheer volume of product in the corners.
Her quiet laugh echoed off the tile. “Three women, one bathroom.”
“Does it matter which one?”
“Nah.”
He grabbed the first bottle his hands touched, squirting flowery smelling shampoo into his palm. “Come here,” he said rubbing his hands together and turning. He ran his hands through her hair, pressing his fingers into her scalp as he worked up a lather. She sighed appreciatively as he worked down the back of her head to her neck. “Your neck is like a rock.”
“I know,” she answered in a small voice.
“Let’s get you rinsed off, and I’ll work on it.” He gently pushed her back into the water, wiping the soap from her forehead, and lifting her hair so it washed clean. Then he stepped back, reaching for the conditioner, repeating his motions and scalp massaging. Only then, was it time for the soap. “Turn around, brace against the wall if you need.” Foregoing a washcloth, he lathered up his hands and started working the knots in her shoulders. “Take a deep breath, exhale the tension.” He repeated all the phrases he’d ever heard from the massage therapists he’d used over the years. Slowly, the tension began to drain from her shoulders. She’d need hours of work, but at least this was a start, and hopefully gave her some relief.
“Colt?” She looked back at him over her shoulder, her gaze dark and hot. “Touch me.”
Lust shot through him springing his cock to life. He stepped closer, bringing his hands to her front, cradling her breasts and gently tugging on her nipples. He bent his head, placing a kiss on her neck and murmuring into her ear. “You mean like this?”
“Yesss,” she hissed, rolling her hips back against him, pressing her sweet ass against his cock.
Oh hell, yes. She was slippery with soap and arousal, and fuck. No condoms. He clenched his jaw as she slid along his cock. “Fuck you feel good,” he groaned, body tensing as heat built to blinding proportions. “But we have no protection in here.”
She fisted her hand against the tile. “We’ll have to get creative, then, because you feel too damn good to stop.”
He thrust his hips again, mind spinning with possibilities. “Turn around,” he ordered. With a sexy little moan, she complied and arched her back against the wall, thrusting her gorgeous tits his direction. “I like how you think,” he murmured, shooting her a naughty grin.
He dropped his head, blazing a trail with his tongue from her collarbone down the swell of her breast, pink from the hot water, to her nipple, rosy and hard. She tasted of flowery soap, warm skin, and essence of Lydia. A combination that both aroused and settled into his bones. He flicked her nipple over and over until she cried out, and in a move that surprised and electrified him, her hand enclosed around his cock. With a groan, mouth still covering her, he thrust into her hand. It might not be her sweet, hot pussy, but he had no complaints. She stroked up his shaft, thumb sweeping back and forth across the head until he saw stars.
He teetered on the edge, burning with the desire to bury himself balls-deep in her heaven, but knowing he couldn’t risk it. Even with her. Bracing a forearm on the tile, he traced a trail across her hip until he found her pussy lips engorged and slick. “That’s it, babe,” he murmured, finding her clit and teasing it with his thumb. “Touch me however you like. I love what you do to me.” Understatement. She touched off a wildfire in him.
Her eyes became dark pools as a slow sexy smile tilted her mouth. Her tongue slowly swept across her lower lip. “Kiss me, cowboy.”
He thrust a hand into her hair and pulled, tilting her mouth and claiming it with a fervor that left them both shaking. With a grunt, she squeezed his cock harder, spurring him on as he licked into her mouth, losing himself in her. His moan of ecstasy quickly turned to a cry of surprise as the water turned to ice.
Lydia’s eyes flew wide as she squealed trying to dodge the spray.
Colt flung back the shower curtain, not even bothering to turn off the water. Wrapping an arm around Lydia, he scooped her up and stalked down the hall. Her gasps of breathless laughter echoed down the hall. He burst into her room, kicking the door shut behind him and collapsing on the bed with her. His heart stumbled at the sight of her, eyes bright, cheeks flushed. But as he stared, she bit down on that full lower lip he loved to taste, pupils dilating as her breath hitched. Holding her gaze, he stretched for the drawer at her bedside table and with his fingers, captured a condom.
He ripped it open with his teeth before handing her the package, blood rushing to his balls in anticipation of her touch. Still looking nowhere but at him, she rolled it down his length with sure, firm, strokes. “Lie back,” he rasped, the room suddenly hot.
She rolled to her back, dropping her knees, baring herself to him. Then in an act of the sweetest submission, she raised her hands above her, stretching like a cat begging for a tummy scratch. Moving over her, he laced his fingers with hers, settling at her entrance, wanting to sheath himself in her warmth, but hesitating.
With a little cry, Lydia lifted her hips, stroking against him. “Please, Colt.”
He couldn’t resist her. With a grumble of pure pleasure, he drove home into her tight heat, seeking her mouth, needing to touch, stroke, lick. She answered with a moan of her own, deep in her throat as she canted her hips against his, and undulated under him as their kisses became deeper, more desperate. As they climbed higher and teetered on the precipice, fire raced up the back of his legs culminating in a laser point of white-hot heat that burst through him like a star shooting across the night sky. He was dimly aware of her cries joining his, but he could barely hear over the buzzing in his ears.
As she came slowly back into focus, he squeezed her hands, marveling at how her eyes looked more green than blue after they made love. How she had faint freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks, a product of a childhood spent outside. Sex looked good on her, and for an alarming second, words shot up his throat, ready to tumble from his mouth. Big words he had no business thinking or saying. He clamped down on his tongue and kissed her instead, tenderly. “Let me go take care of this before someone surprises us.”
“Don’t worry, we won’t be interrupted.” Her voice called after him as he hurried down the hall to the bathroom.
“We’re really all alone?” He asked when he returned, washcloth in hand.
“Luci’s helping her folks make tamales today, and Emmaline left just before you got here to go visit her mother in Topeka.”
He tossed the washcloth into the hamper, and crawled up next to her, settling her in the curve of his arm. “So no one will hear you scream my name when I make you come again?”
She cupped his face, giving him a relaxed smile. He liked seeing her like this, relaxed and sated from their lovemaking. “Who says I’m going to scream?”
He gave her ass a gentle pinch. “I’m going to make you scream so loud, they’ll hear you the next block over.”
Her eyes lit. “Promise?”
He nodded. “You need at least five more orgasms to work the knots from your shoulders.”
“I like the sound of that,” she purred, dropping a kiss on his collarbone and slipping a leg between his. “When are we going to get started?”
He pushed her onto her back, the first stirrings of desire sparking to life in his belly. “I’m not busy.” He trailed a finger from the hollow at her neck between her breasts. “I think I should start here.” He lowered his head to the swell, lapping at her skin.
“LYDIA MARGUERITE GRACE!! I KNOW YOU ARE HOME.” Dottie’s voice boomed from the front room.
Lydia Marguerite? Colt covered a laugh as Lydia squeaked beneath him and with a superhuman heave, rolled, pushing him off the bed. He landed with a thunk.
“Ohmygodit’smymother,” she hissed, wide-eyed, as she scrambled off the bed, searching for something to wear.
“LYDIA??” Dottie’s voice sounded closer this time, and fit to be tied.
Lydia shoved a hand into her robe. “Don’t move a muscle,” she hissed as she shoved the other arm into the sleeve. “Coming, mama,” she called loudly.
Giving Colton a last look, she slipped out the door, shutting it quietly behind her.
Holy. Hell. Shit was about to hit the fan.