A Cowboy to Call Daddy (The Boones of Texas 4)

He moved deeper, the control on his face wavering as he pressed his eyes shut, groaning. He shook his head and smiled at her.

His rhythm was slow and deep. He was in no rush. His hands, his mouth, seemed intent on driving her out of her mind. And he was succeeding. Each thrust, each kiss, each whisper of his breath on her skin was sweet torture. Whatever gave her pleasure he explored in depth.

“You’re beautiful.” His words were as potent as his hands. She felt her body tightening around him. His hand cupped her breast, his thumb grazing over her nipple, his lips and tongue stroking—and she was done.

Her climax hit hard, her cry echoing in the room, her body bowing off the bed. She held on to him, needing an anchor as she slipped into a state of pure bliss. He powered into her then, his face crumpling as he moaned long and loud. His hands gripped her hips as he kept moving, his body shaking beneath her hands.

When he collapsed at her side, they lay there gasping.

“Stay,” he said, draping an arm across her stomach.

She rolled onto her side, facing him. He was gorgeous. His eyes were closed, his lips parted. The rapid rise and fall of his chest made her smile. It was more than a little empowering to know she made him breathless. She ran a finger along his forehead, down his nose, across his lips, chin, neck and shoulder.

He turned his head toward her on the pillow, but she continued mapping his body with her fingertips. Sharp edges and broad contours of his chest. She’d known he was in shape, but his body was an unexpected delight. When her fingers stroked across the plane of his stomach, his skin quivered.

Her gaze met his. “Tha

nk you for today,” she said.

“Thank you?” His brows rose, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Yes, thank you.” She grinned, feeling foolish as she stammered, “It’s been a long time since... No one’s ever made me...wanted to...make me feel special.”

He frowned.

Her smile faded.

His fingers smoothed her hair from her shoulder. “You are special.”

She scooted forward, resting her chin on his chest and draping her arm across his stomach. She liked being close to him, feeling his warmth, breathing in his scent. She sighed.

His arm slipped around her, his large hand pressed open against her back. “Will you stay?”

She rested her cheek against his chest. His heart beat slow and steady, calming enough to lull her into sleep. “I can’t, Archer,” she said it as much for herself as him. She wanted to stay. Right now, there was nothing she wanted more than to stay right here tangled up in him. “You know I can’t.”

He stiffened beneath her, his arm falling away as he moved to his side of the bed. He stood, giving Eden a view she couldn’t help but admire. Except he was upset. And she didn’t know why. “Archer?” She sat up, pulling the sheet over her.

He ran a hand over his face. “I don’t bring women back to my house, to my bed...” He broke off.

She smiled, unable to squelch the pure happiness his admission stirred. But he knew she had children, knew it was complicated. “I want to stay, Archer. But if Ivy and Lily wake up and I’m not there, Clara will have a revolt on her hands.”

He turned, wearing an odd expression. He ran a hand over his face and nodded, his posture easing slightly. “I’ll take you back.”

Eden waited, wishing there were some way to rewind the last two minutes and undo whatever it was that had changed the air between them. He’d been gentle and responsive, like he wanted her here, like she was special. Now he was tugging on his clothes and tight-lipped, like he couldn’t wait to take her home.

Chapter Eleven

Eden took the box Teddy Boone handed her.

“This is all of them. Mags never took to email, so she and Rachel were pen pals.”

Eden nodded, truly thankful.

“Don’t have the heart to go through her things, so they’re all in the attic,” Teddy mumbled. “Glad it’s of some use.”

Eden paused, glancing at Teddy Boone. This man had been alone, grieving for his wife, for almost a decade. Her father had married Julia six weeks after her mother’s death. Julia, the midlife crisis cliché. Young, gorgeous and dumb. At least she was sweet. “Guess I need to read through them all.” Not exactly the way she’d been planning on spending her Sunday, but time was running out. “I guess I’m a little scared,” she confessed. “I know my parents’ marriage wasn’t perfect, but there are some things a daughter doesn’t want to know.”

“Archer’s not gonna help?” Teddy asked. “Lot of letters in there.”