12
“DO YOU WANT to stay?” Jules asked, surprising herself when he parked behind her Jeep at the guesthouse. They’d been zombies driving home from the hospital. Doc Clayton assured him his father had done well, and he was resting. It would be hours before he was awake, and likely another day or two before he’d be up for visitors.
Tanner stared at her, his bloodshot eyes and frown a testament to his long night. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” she said, unbuckling her seat belt. “Maria and Ramon are taking care of everything, and they’ll check on the horses. There’s nothing else for us to do right now—and I don’t want you driving anymore.”
“So it’s a pity invite?” Despite the hint of sarcasm, he sounded more amused than angry.
“No, it’s an ‘I don’t want to be alone’ invite.” The Tanner who worked with Satan, who rushed to help her with the horses, who fought his father to defend her, then waged war to save him—that Tanner made a place for himself in her heart. No matter what Tanner’d said at the hospital, his father still owned the ranch, and he’d fired Jules. She was still a bone of contention between the two very stubborn men. They needed time to heal and repair their relationship. Tonight, Tanner needed her, and she needed to be there for him. “Besides—you got me a burrito—it was kind of a date.”
His bark of laughter seemed to catch him off guard and she grinned. When he leaned across the seat and caught her nape, he tugged her in for a kiss and she went straight into his arms. “Jules,” he breathed against her mouth. “I don’t know how I would have gotten through tonight without you.”
“Well, you don’t have to find out.” She cradled his face in her hands. The stubble on his cheeks was rough on her palms. “We made it—more important, he did. So will you stay?”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.” Another kiss, then he shut off the engine and slid out of the truck. He’d circled it and opened her passenger door before she could.
“Well, hello there.” Grinning, she let him tug her out of the truck, and then they walked through the garden to the front door. She loved the little place. Two stories, but still small and cozy. Perfect for her, away from everything when she needed a break from the world.
They needed a break.
Inside, he didn’t slow or talk. Instead, they helped each other strip and left their clothes littering the stairs as they climbed them. The way he looked at her thrilled her to the core. More, the promise in his eyes left her weak.
Upstairs opened into her bedroom. The loft had a beautiful picture window, which looked out at the ranch. Sunshine filtered through to splash the bed. Tanner tugged at her jeans. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
Considering she’d already lost her shirt and bra, she just laughed and fell back on the bed, then curled her fingers in invitation. He hadn’t been kidding when he said she didn’t need to ask twice.
As he peeled the denim down, he tugged her panties with them and then she lay there, naked and vulnerable, and Tanner stilled. Ready to tease him, the words died unspoken on her lips at the adoration on his face. While staring at her, he stripped out of his clothes. Naked, he glided a hand to her belly and stretched his fingers against her taut skin.
“The first time I saw you move,” he whispered, “I noticed how you were built—how strong you were. I thought, this is a woman who could take care of herself. It wasn’t just how you danced, or the way your muscles were cut.” As if to emphasize the point he traced the outline of her abdominals. “Have you ever noticed you have nearly a four-pack here?”
Amused, but also curious as to where he was going with this, she rose on her elbows. “I do a lot of outdoor work, lifting, walking, riding—but no, I’ve never considered myself a bodybuilder.”
“That’s because you have the perfect body.” He dipped his head and replaced his fingers, kissing her belly, and she forgot how to breathe. “Perfect for me.”
Tears wet her eyes and she blinked them back. They were supposed to be playing and laughing, and having massively good sex, not getting her weepy from the wealth of emotion clogging his voice.
“Well, you’re not so bad yourself.” She pushed the words passed the lump in her throat. “But I love the tan.”
His arms, face, and hands were burnished to near bronze, but his chest was paler. “That’s why you work Satan shirtless, isn’t it? Trying to even that farmer’s tan out?”
“It’s a Marine tan,” he growled, then kissed the curve of her breast. Her nipples tightened in anticipation as a swift rush of arousal stole through her. “Earned in the desert.”
“Sir,” she breathed, teasing him. “Yes, sir.”
His laugher didn’t prepare her for his mouth closing over her nipple or the fierce pleasure stealing her breath when he sucked it against his teeth. It bordered on pain but felt so damn good. He massaged her other breast as he settled himself against her, the length of him fitting her body, and she ached for him.
Ached in a manner she hadn’t expected. Sliding her hand into his hair, she fisted it and tugged him from her breast. When he glanced at her, she whispered, “No more playing—I just want you—inside of me. With me.”
“The lady’s wish is my command,” he swore, then his mouth fused to hers and his body covered her completely.
Jules’s breath locked in her throat. Arousal burst through her, setting every nerve alight until she imagined her synapses short-circuiting. She thrust her fingers into his hair and strained under the heat of his mouth teasing and tormenting her. Every touch of his body to hers turned her into a creature of pure want.
Tanner smelled so good, rough and earthy. He nibbled at her lips, and stroked his cock against her pussy, but he didn’t thrust into her. Every caress sent another electric surge through her to explode in her center.
Despite his promise, he avoided taking her, and it drove her crazy. The possessiveness of his kiss demanded her attention, and their tongues vied for supremacy. It was a delightful game of give and take. When she ran her fingers down his back, his muscles rippled beneath her touch.
But the slow grind of his stiff erection against her dampness pushed her toward the edge. Her breasts flattened on the hard plane of his chest. He was so hot; his skin seemed to scorch hers. Lifting his head, he braced his hands to the bedcovers and pushed away. A moan escaped her at his sudden absence.
“Easy, my sweet Jules. I need a condom.”
Screw the condom, the evil little voice whispered in the back of her mind, but she opened her eyes and stared at him as he slid off the bed. He retrieved his jeans, then his wallet, staring at her the whole time.
Drinking in the image of him, purely masculine with clean, gorgeous lines and a beautifully swollen cock, she ached to feel him inside of her on a hedonistic level she hadn’t realized she possessed. “Men aren’t supposed to be beautiful,” she said, slowly licking her lips. “But you are.”
When he snorted, she rose on her elbows and drew her knees up. His gaze went obediently to her sex, and she grinned. It was kind of heady knowing she turned him on.
“You are beautiful.” Jules protested his scoff. “But you’re beautiful everywhere else too—you know I saw you with Satan, working with him.”
He slid a condom on and sheathed himself. “I know. I loved that you did.” The low roughness in his voice sent another ache to vibrate to her core.
“Why?”
“Because you came to find me,” he said, sliding back onto the bed and settling between her thighs. Then his face was above hers and she lost herself staring into his eyes. The sensation of everything being right, of needing and being needed in return, drowned her. “You kept running—at the bar—here on the ranch—you kept away from me, telling me no.” His mouth nuzzled hers.
A low groan vibrated through him. He kissed his way across her cheek to her jaw and then lower, grazing his mouth across her nipples one at a time. Then he rolled one between his thumb and forefinger, and her heart began to hammer so loud, she thought he had to be able to hear it.
“Then you came and found me, and I could feel you watching me.” He slid a hand down to tease her clit and she forgot how to think. “You deserve more than I’ve been offering. You deserve invitations, not orders . . . and I may be stubborn, but I can learn. Do you want me, Jules?”
“Yes.” No hesitation in her as he circled her clit again. He filled her awareness, surrounding her. She could taste him on her tongue, feel him blanketing her body, and she had to fight to catch her breath. He alternated between her breasts and her sex, then just when she thought she found a rhythm, he kissed her.
“I want you, Jules,” he told her, biting her earlobe gently. “I want you always.” The words thrust into her as his cock eased inside of her, then sank in with a single, hard thrust.
Reclaiming her mouth, he began to power into her and the world narrowed to the dance binding them together. His tongue mirrored the motion of his cock, and she met his greedy demands. Wanting him, needing him—and maybe even loving him. The realization crystalized within her as her pleasure eddied her higher and higher.
The tension became almost unbearable as he drove her past the point of thought, until everything was just one continuous sensuous sensation. Locking her legs around his waist, she held on to him as he began to piston into her. The first orgasm caught her unawares, but the second crashed over her before the first even completed. When he came, it was with a shout, and all she could do was hold on to him as the sweet friction consumed them in flames.
She woke an hour later to the feeling of his hands gliding over her, then his mouth was on her breast. Another wash of pleasure chased away the sleep. They spent their day wrapped in self-indulgent pleasure. Jules knew at some point they would have to come up for air, and when that time came . . . she would talk to him. They would sort it out, but until then, all she wanted was to see him smile, hear his laugh, and revel in the ecstasy they shared.
The afternoon nap stole the day away from them and she woke to find herself nestled in his arms. Before dinner, they showered together, which had her laughing because his tall ass did not fit in the shower with her.
“Next time, we do this at the house,” he said, running soapy hands along her hips and helping her turn so they could switch sides. Only one of them could be under the water at a time.
Her heart stabbed at the thought of next time, but she pushed it away for now. Today was about Tanner and what he needed. “Uh-huh, it’s not my fault the big, brawny Marine cowboy does not fit in my shower.”
Then he had her pressed against the wall, kissing her. When he finally came up for air, he grinned slowly. “I fit you just fine.”
“Yes, you do.”
Once they emerged, she found fresh clothes but he had to put his old ones back on. “Come to the house for dinner?” he asked.
She should say no, should let him go. But decided against it. “Okay, she said. “We should check on Missy and her foal and Charity first.”
“I can do that.”
While they were at it, maybe she could broach an idea with him. “Tanner?”
“Yeah?”
“I had a thought—about Mateo. I know we have a lot on our plates right now, you especially, but would you mind if I ran it past you?”
He paused, his expression gentling and so open it left her breathless. “I would love to hear your ideas.”
So she told him about the therapy horse program she had talked with Mateo about earlier, and why she thought Mateo might benefit from it. More, how they might be able to help other Marines like Mateo. The way Tanner listened to her every word made her feel elated, and he saved his questions until she finished her pitch. While they dressed, he peppered her for details, and what she didn’t know, they made a list to research.
Together.
The stop at the barn should have elicited bad memories of the night before, but Jules’s body still hummed from his caresses, and Tanner walked with her hand in hand to each stall. They checked on the girls—all seemed to be doing well. It was like being in a dream. Sooner or later, they would have to wake up.
He didn’t seem willing to, and frankly, neither did she. At the house, they dined with Ramon and Maria, though Tanner took a moment to call the hospital. His father was still sleeping, but he continued to do well. Doc Clayton suggested Tanner wait till the next day.
The dinner table was full of laughter, and tales of what hooligans Tanner and Mateo had been as boys. Maria hovered over Tanner, spoiling him with attention and food. Ramon clasped his shoulder and provided a steadiness that every child needed in his life.
This couple provided one of the cornerstones of Tanner’s existence. They loved him like another son, and he returned the affection in kind. After dinner, he showed Jules through the house, and she stared at the painting of his mother. She could see Tanner in her—the shape of the eyes, and the smile. Even the kindness mingled with strength in her expression.
That night, she curled up in his arms in his bed and held him while they went to sleep.
“Thank you for today,” he said against her hair, holding her tight.
Yawning, she rubbed his foot with her own. “You’re welcome, but don’t get cocky. It was a special occasion.”
“Yes,” he agreed, his voice so drowsy and warm it made her heart hurt. “You are.”
Then his breathing evened. Jules didn’t go right to sleep; she wanted to remember every moment. Tomorrow, she’d go pack up the guesthouse and find a place in town. Tonight, tonight she wanted the dream to exist just a little bit longer.