Chapter Twelve
“Want to go for a ride? I’m not ready to turn in,” Sierra said after they’d finished dessert and his dad had retired to his den and his mom had gone into the family room to watch one of her shows.
“Sure. I’m not too sure we should go on horseback. You aren’t familiar with the terrain,” he said. Hell, he probably wasn’t either given that it had been a long time since he’d been home.
“That’s fine. We could even walk or take your truck. Show me where you used to go when you needed space.”
He rubbed his chin and thought about it. As soon as he could drive, which had been fourteen, he’d taken the ranch truck at night… “I’ve got an idea.”
He took her hand, calling out to his mom that they’d be back later. She slid her fingers between his and held his hand loosely in hers. She smelled of summer even though it was waning and he remembered the way she’d defended him at dinner. He’d been surprised.
“Thanks for earlier with my dad.”
She looked over at him. “You don’t have to thank me. I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”
“I know. But you could have just kept quiet and you didn’t.”
“Well that’s not my way.”
His truck unlocked as they got close and he turned to look down at her. Her hair was loose again, brushing her shoulders, and the makeup she’d had on when they left Dallas had faded but she looked prettier now to him. He knew it was because he was starting to care for her.
And that should make alarm bells go off but it didn’t. There was something about Sierra that just felt right. That made him want to believe he could be a better man.
Not that he was a bad man, but he’d always just felt disconnected from everyone and everything. She grounded him.
Danger.
He knew it. He had no idea how to make anything last. Not that she was asking for that. But damn, the way he felt about her was going to make letting her go hard.
“You’re different than I expected,” he said.
“Yeah? How?” she asked.
He opened the door and lifted her up onto the seat of the cab, remembering the last time he’d done so and what had happened afterward.
He stepped back. “You have strong opinions about different things than I expected you to.
“Like standing up for my friends?”
“Sort of. Just the way you are with your co-workers too: fair but clearly the boss. And with me as my…what are we?”
“Friends.”
“Friends…yes, we are,” he said. He wanted it to be more. He wanted her to be his girlfriend but he wasn’t that kind of guy. As always with Sierra he was reminded that he had these moments with her. Like getting on a bull each time the ride was short, exhilarating and temporary.
He got behind the wheel and started the engine without saying anything else. The radio came on to the satellite country station and they were playing an oldie by Willie Nelson.
Gage loved riding across the ranch with Sierra. It made him feel like he was really alive—something he rarely experienced away from the AEBR Tour.
It helped to take his mind off of the situation with his dad.
“Does your dad watch you ride?” she asked.
“Every time,” he admitted.
“He does? I’m surprised he didn’t praise you more tonight. I mean you’re at the top in points. I think you could win the tour.”
Tell her, he thought. Just casually throw out that when his dad watched him ride he thought that it was Marty. The only person who knew was his mom and she wasn’t sure what to make of it either. And Gage could correct the old man but he never did.
“It’s not his way,” Gage said.
He could understand that and respect it. He knew that his father was always going to see him as the son who didn’t measure up and maybe if Marty had lived that would have changed but the truth was, his brother hadn’t lived and they were all playing the hands they’d been dealt. Him, his dad and his mom.
“I guess that makes sense,” she said. He pulled to a stop on the top of a high ridge where they grazed the cattle in winter. The ridge was the best spot on the ranch for viewing the night sky. He turned off the engine and reached under the seat for the thick blanket that he kept there.
“Come on,” he said.
“Where?”
“To the best planetarium in this part of the world.”
There wasn’t any light pollution from the city out here and as soon as his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could easily find his way.
Sierra had gotten out of the truck and walked over to him, her boots making a solid sound with each step she took. She was wearing a short-sleeved blouse that had a nipped-in waist, together with a pair of skintight Montez classic jeans.
He spread the blanket out and then sat down. Sierra did the same and he fell back looking up at the sky. She lay next to him, the sound of her breathing calming the last of the tension that had remained in him from dinner.
“I’m the worst at seeing any of the constellations. My dad used to take Savanna and me camping when we were little and he’d be like that’s Sirius and that’s the Big Dipper and Savanna could see it but honestly all I saw and still see are stars.”
“I could point them out to you,” he said. Sometimes when he’d been homesick he’d go out on the platform of the oil rig at night and look up at the sky and take comfort in seeing the constellations she’d named.
“Okay,” she said.
He rolled over to his side and she did the same and they bumped heads. Not enough to really hurt but enough to make them both laugh.
“I’m so awkward,” she said.
But she wasn’t. Not really. He pulled her into his arms, forgetting about stars. He didn’t want to gaze at constellations in the sky when he had a heavenly body right next to him.
And right now, he had this woman in his arms. A woman he’d been thinking about in inconvenient sexual terms since he’d met her.
“Do you want me, Sierra?” he asked her. “Even after my dad pointed out all of my flaws?”
She put her hand on his face. “He sees you through a broken glass.”
Was that it? For a long time, he’d wondered if maybe the broken thing was inside of him.
“And I do want you very much.”
He shifted around on the blanket until he was seated and could pull her onto his lap. She straddled him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and then shifted around until she settled onto him.
“Comfortable?”
“Yes.” She pushed back from him, putting one hand between them. “Gage?”
“Yes?”
“How about taking off your shirt?” Sierra asked.
He arched one eyebrow at her, but did as she asked. Unsnapping the pearl buttons on his western shirt and shrugging out of it. “You seem to have a thing about me without a shirt.”
“Yes, I do.”
Her hands on his shoulders were light and she rubbed them back and forth over him, one hand drifting down his chest, her fingers rubbing over his pectorals and then lower. He shivered under her touch, wanting this moment to last forever but knowing that he needed more. He needed Sierra in a way that scared him more than getting on the back of a bull. And the only time he felt like she was really, truly his was when he was buried deep inside of her.
He wanted to be chill and act like this wasn’t a big deal to him but when Sierra touched him he didn’t feel like he was filling in for someone else. She was making love with him. She didn’t see the specter of another lover and that made him…well, hell, it made him feel too much. And emotions had never led him to anything but destruction.
She lowered her hand to his erection, running over its length. “I guess you like that.”
He had to focus on this moment, stop feeling anything except her limbs entwined with his. Her body against his. Her lips under his.
“Darlin’, I love it,” he said, pulling her to him. He lifted her slightly so she was pressed against him from chest to hips.
“But not as much as I enjoy touching you,” he said, sweeping his hands down her torso. She was soft, her skin so smooth…perfect. Unlike him she seemed to have no flaws inside or out.
He sucked her lower lip into his mouth as he shifted his shoulders against her, rubbing his torso against her full breasts.
“That’s nice,” she said.
Blood roared in his ears and he felt that shiver of sensation down his spine. He was hard and aching and needed to be inside her. Now.
Impatient with the fabric of her clothing and he shoved her shirt out of his way and undid her pants. “Stand up and take those pants off.”
She did as he asked, working her boots off and then those jeans. He loved the way she swiveled her hips as she pushed the denim down her legs. He was so busy watching her he realized he was still wearing his jeans. He pushed his off and then reached for the condom he’d put in his back pocket earlier, before they left the house.
He pulled her back onto his lap. Her legs parted and her thighs rubbed against his, as she shifted around finding the right position. The tip of his hard-on brushed against her center.
She was warm and wet. He slipped one finger under the material of her underwear. Their eyes met when she sighed and he knew that something was changing between them. This was more than sex.
Her eyelids dropped as she arched her back and took him deeper into her body. Her lips were parted and her hair fell down over her face and his hips jerked forward. He had to look away to keep from losing himself at that moment.
He pulled her head down and tasted her mouth. Her lips parted under his and he thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. His cock was buried deep inside of her and he wanted to take her so deeply that they’d never be able to be two separate people again.
He caressed her spine. She felt so delicate in his arms as he ran his hand down her back to the indentation above her backside.
She moaned, which set fire to him, and he knew that no matter how long he wanted this to last, he had no control where Sierra was concerned. He pushed her back so he could see her better. Every time he saw her naked he was hit with a bolt of desire that burned through the bull of regular life and made it seem as if there was nothing more important than holding Sierra and making love to her.
He rested a hand on the small of her back. She closed her eyes, her hips undulating, and when he touched her nipples gooseflesh spread down over her chest toward her belly button.
He took a deep breath and then ran his finger between her breasts, the backs of his fingers brushing the sides of her breasts.
He varied his thrusts, finding a rhythm that would draw out the tension gathering inside of him—not unlike how he felt when he was on the back of a bull and he was about to leave the chute. Excitement, anticipation and the more times he made love to her a hint of danger. Because this was Sierra and not just a casual lay.
He held her hips to him to give him deeper access to her body. He lost control thrusting harder and deeper until he yelled her name as he came. Then he cradled her to his chest and just held her like he’d never have to let her go. A bull rider’s life was rough and tumbled. Could be short as Marty had proven—and Gage had seen too many riders who were beat-up and old before their time.
He wanted more for Sierra and he wondered if he dared to let himself believe he deserved more for himself. Imagined he somehow could have Sierra not just for the length of the tour the way some of the riders treated the buckle bunnies, but for the rest of his life. Because as she kissed his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him, holding him, he knew he never wanted to let her go.
She shivered and he reached for his shirt, draping it over her back, because he wasn’t ready to stop holding her.