Whirlwind (The Champions 1)

“I want you inside me. Now. Please . . .” She breathed the words.

He chuckled softly. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

The panties vanished somewhere under the covers as he moved over her, brushed a tender kiss on her lips, then thrust deep. Her breath eased out as he filled the needy hollow inside her. “Yes . . .” she whispered. “Oh, yes . . .”

She arched her hips to match his movements, every gliding push triggering exquisite shimmers in the depths of her body. Her legs cradled him as he rode her slowly, building to a wild, sensual rocket ride that burst like a sky full of fireworks, leaving them damp and spent in each other’s arms.

Heaven.

* * *

Lexie woke to find Shane looking down at her. He lay next to her, his head propped on one elbow, his bare skin warm against hers, backlit by the pale dawn glow coming through the window. His hair was mussed, his mouth curved in a tender smile. “Wake up, sleepyhead,” he said. “We need to be on our feet and looking sharp before this parking lot comes to life.”

With a mutter of protest, she pulled him down for an easy kiss. They’d made love twice more in the night before finally tumbling into sleep. She felt gloriously lazy and utterly satisfied. But Shane was right. People would soon be coming to move their rigs and load their bulls. It wouldn’t do for them to stumble out of the trailer looking as if they’d spent the night doing . . . what they’d been doing.

“I could stay right here all day,” she murmured, yawning and stretching.

“I’m afraid that’s not an option—unless you want to end up on the Tolman Ranch. I need to get this rig back, pack my gear, and hit the trail before the boss gets home. Come on.” He flung back the covers and shoved himself off the foot of the bed. Without clothes, his body was all sculpted muscle—lean, hard, and emblazoned by scars from his injuries in the arena. He was beautiful, she thought, as she watched him walk down the hallway, where they’d both left a trail of clothes.

“What’re you looking at?” He glanced back over his shoulder with an impish grin.

She laughed. “I’m admiring your butt. It’s a hot one.”

“Come on.” He scooped up her clothes, except for the boots, and flung them onto the bed. “While you get decent, I’ll put some coffee in the machine.”

A few minutes later, with her clothes on, her face splashed, and her hair finger-combed, she entered the kitchen to find him dressed and pouring coffee into two mugs.

“I’d fix you a real breakfast, but there’s not enough time,” he said. “Have a seat.”

Lexie took a moment to pull on her boots, then sat on a stool at the bar and added creamer to her coffee. This was the awkward time, the where do we go from here? time. Since the answer would be nowhere, it was bound to be painful.

“You first.” As before, Shane had an uncanny ability to read her.

She took a sip of coffee, forcing herself to meet his coppery eyes. “Last night was wonderful,” she said. “But whatever we have stops right here. After watching my brother die in the arena, and seeing my friend’s husband disabled for life, I’ve made a rule—a rule I broke last night.”

“Let me guess. No bull riders.” When she didn’t reply, he continued. “I saw it coming, Lexie, but I don’t have to like it. You’re a one-in-a-million kind of woman and I wouldn’t mind spending more time with you. But believe me, I understand.”

“Thanks.” She broke eye contact, staring down into her cup.

“Will you be taking Whirlwind to Pueblo next weekend?”

“It’s on the schedule. I suppose so.”

“I’ll be there, too. We’re bound to run into each other. If you’ve changed your mind by then, let me know. If not, we can just smile and say howdy. All right?”

“All right.” She finished her coffee, set the mug on the bar, and stood. “Time to get moving, I guess. Aaron should be showing up soon.”

He stood, too. “I’ll be visiting Cory in rehab this week. If you want to give me your phone number, I’ll pass on anything I learn about him. But that’s up to you.”

“Cory’s my friend. I’ll appreciate your letting me know.” A notepad and pen lay on the counter. Lexie wrote down her number. He might be angling for a reason to call her, but her instincts told her otherwise. Shane had no need for subterfuge now. “I added my e-mail,” she said, putting down the pen and walking toward the door. “We have Internet at the ranch, but the phone service is spotty at best.”

“Thanks.” He opened the door for her and held out his hand. “Friends?”

“Friends.” She accepted the handshake. No kiss; not even a hug. He was only respecting her wishes, Lexie told herself. So why did she have the feeling she’d just been dumped?

“Be safe, Lexie,” he said, releasing her hand.

“You, too.” With the sun just coming up, Lexie walked out the door and down the steps. She didn’t look back. She didn’t want him to see that she was fighting tears.