Gentling the Cowboy(37)

The mundane act of driving was soothing to her frayed nerves. Emotionally she’d been all over the place that morning. Her thoughts still hadn’t settled in the aftermath of what now ranked in the top three most embarrassing moments of her life. She wished she could claim it stood out as her worst one, but it didn’t.

“You’ll be on this road for about an hour before we hit the highway.”

“That long?” she asked, without looking away from the path before them.

“And then another hour after that.”

Sarah cleared her throat nervously. That sounds like a long time to think about how wise it is to disappear into the woods of Texas with a man I hardly know. She sneaked a quick look at his profile. What am I doing? I’ve spent the last few days fantasizing about this happening. This is not the time to second-guess myself. “Have you done this before? Brought someone to your cabin?”

Like Melanie?

Is that why she has a son?

I really am an idiot.

Why can’t I turn off my stupid internal dialogue and enjoy this?

Sarah gripped the steering wheel as she chastised herself silently.

He reached over, pried one of her hands off the wheel, and held it in his left hand. “You’re the first.” He placed her hand on his jean-clad thigh and said, “Relax.”

Her hand shook beneath his. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“It’s not, actually. Nothing about this makes any sense, but . . .”

Sarah glanced at him quickly again and her stomach clenched at the tortured expression in his eyes. How can I want to ravish him one moment and then the next want to pull the car over and hug his pain away? “But?” she pushed softly.

His hand tightened on top of hers. “I couldn’t let you go. You’re all I think about. Tasting you again. Finishing what we started up in that field. No more interruptions. Just you and me and however much time we need.”

Oh, boy.

He turned in his seat and slowly unbuttoned her blouse, sliding his open hand beneath one of the lace cups of her bra and teasing her instantly hard nipple with his fingertips. “I want to fuck you again and again until I’m all you can think about.”

She let out an audible sigh of disappointment when he removed his hand and then gasped when he used it to tug her shirt from her pants waistband with one strong move. Deftly he unsnapped her jeans. Her stomach shuddered against his hand. He unzipped her jeans and slid his hand in to cup her now-soaked silk crotch. “You want it just as badly, don’t you?” He teased the inside seam of her panties, hinting that he’d like to push them aside, but not yet doing so. “Say it, Sarah.”

Keeping her eyes on the long straight road ahead, Sarah said, “I want you.”

He fingered the seam again. “I want to hear you beg for it. I’ll teach you, but only if you give yourself to me totally. I told you if you stay, you stay on my terms. You’re mine, Sarah. For this trip. For however long I want you. Say it.”

His hand rested possessively over her wet lips, already claiming what he demanded she surrender. This was her fantasy—the adventure she’d never dared to believe she could have. He wasn’t asking for forever and he wasn’t allowing her to do this halfway. He wanted to be in control, to own her, if only for a short time. Another woman might have resisted the idea, but the pleasure Tony had already brought her made surrendering a temptation Sarah didn’t even try to resist. “I’m yours.”

He rewarded her by pushing the silk aside, finding her wet clit with his thumb, and circling it ever so slowly until she was rubbing against his hand. “Now tell me what you wrote in your notebook for me.”

Sarah froze. “No.”

His hand did, too. He leaned over and grazed her neck with his hot lips. “The deal is everything or nothing. Turn the car around if you can’t handle it.”

Damn him. He wouldn’t settle for less than everything. With a flush of embarrassment spreading across her chest and neck, Sarah admitted, “I wrote a masturbation scene.”

His fingers began their sweet, sweet torture again. His tongue lapped at the sensitive area behind her neck. “Describe it.”

As she did, his fingers explored her, delved within her, played with her until she pulled off the road and threw her head back from the pleasure of it. She could barely remember what she’d written now, but he pushed her to share more, to describe each graphic detail. When she got to the part where she was tasting her own fingers and imagining it was him, he sat back, freed his eager dick from his pants, released her seatbelt, and pulled her head toward it.

“Show me.”