The Cowboy's Texas Rose (The Dixons of Legacy Ranch 1)

His gaze remained riveted to hers at her teasing edge, a glimmer twinkling deviously in her eyes. Okay, then. She wanted to play hard? He’d given her plenty of chances to opt out, but all she’d done was go all in and upped the ante now. Who needed poker night when he had this daredevil? He pushed back on his haunches and ripped her shoes off, then her jeans, then he fought his way out of his own tangled clothes. Phones flung from pockets as socks and underwear followed suit, until their clothes and accessories sat in a haphazard heap and he had this woman naked in one of the most heavenly perches nature had invented, overlooking the canyon that had made everything with Rosalinda Morales possible.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice scratchy, taking in her naked beauty. “I’m a lucky bastard.” He ran a hand along her thigh, knee, calf. “Such mile-long legs…cute toes…” She giggled further as he tweaked a toe.

The sun was quickly descending. Her skin was bronze and aglow in the vibrant orange light. Her hair, dark brown, had caught fire with highlights, and her eyes shone, catching the light’s warmth and making the hazel in them ignite.

He rummaged through his jeans pocket for his wallet and withdrew a condom, tearing the foil with his teeth and rolling the tight rubber down his shaft, so thick it was nearly painful. He lowered himself over her, feeling her body heat press against him as he sank his weight upon her and hoisted up her legs to slip around his naked rear.

“Sorry it ain’t a bed for our first time,” he muttered against her skin as he trailed his lips upon her cheek and jaw, over to her ear where he tugged upon the earlobe with his teeth.

“There’s no place I’d rather be than here, among these cliffs, right now,” she replied and kissed his stubbly jaw. “This is all so perfect.”

He felt her palms slide onto his rear, and he dipped his fingers down between them to slip within her folds and determine how careful he needed to be. Goddamn, she was tight. It had clearly been a while since her last time. He nuzzled his face against her neck again, summoning strength to remain in control, to thrust slowly until they found their rhythm. His finger dipped within her again, feeling the slickness of her sex hugging it. She rolled against him, undulating and rocking herself upon the intrusion, and the most sensuous moan dragged from her throat as he buried his finger and gave slow, exploring thrusts. He quickened the pace, swirling his fingertip within her until he felt her tense and squeeze upon him.

She tossed her head to the side, mumbling, “Oh God…”

“Ah, your sweet spot,” he whispered with sheer male satisfaction. “Girl, I got your number now,” he teased, pecking her ear once more, then renewed his hand’s efforts, squeezing a second finger within her folds to give that sweet spot more satisfaction.

“Toby,” she whined, gripping his rear, pulling upon him to mimic a man’s rutting.

“Attagirl,” he encouraged, his chest welling with pride to extract an orgasm from her.

She tossed her head again, letting her legs fall wide to give him more room. He lifted off her to open the view and watched his fingers dip in and out, quick, urgent thrusts that finally wrung that helpless cry from her lips as she clamped down upon him and gripped his neck, yanking his lips down to hers. He kissed her hard, acceding to her demand, and felt her warmth coat his hand. He felt her body shudder and slowly withdrew his fingertips, breaking their kiss and lifting them to his mouth to suck the treasure of her sweetness off his skin.

God, it was heady. Finer than whiskey. Finer than the highest high. His eyes rolled shut as he savored the taste, then felt her fingers touch his shaft gingerly, giving him reverent pumps to encourage him to finish what they’d started. With goddamned pleasure. He pumped into her hand, his body reacting to the primal need, and gazed down at this woman who’d clipped his wings. He was grateful he’d waited until now to get himself saddled. With her. With her kid. The realization hit him hard. There was no going back from a deal like this. He’d gained her trust, and he’d better not ever trample it, even unintentionally.

He lowered his hips between her legs, resting his forehead to hers, and nudged his helm between her folds. He felt her fingers guiding him, caressing down him to cup his jewels again and massage them tenderly.

“Make love to me,” she whispered, and the sheepish edge to her voice took him aback. Her eyes dipped away from him, then back to him. She’d been so forthright until now.

Making love was special. She felt the lust, but she wanted it to mean something, just like he was feeling.

“Don’t ever be embarrassed to tell me what you want,” he replied, his voice so gruff he felt the need to clear it. “’Cause I want it, too.”

He’d put those other bastards to shame, the ones who’d had Rose for themselves and trampled on the gift, the ones who’d hardened her to be tough, determined, and prove day after day she didn’t need them anyway. He groaned, pushing inside of her, his forehead resting upon hers, his weight upon his forearms trembling as he sank into her heat.

“Rose…Rose, baby,” he murmured, feeling sweat roll down his nose and onto her.

Any further attempts at speech would be incoherent, and thankfully, his senses shut him up as a long cry pulled from her throat while he stretched himself within. A year of celibacy had been well worth the wait. He felt the final warmth of the setting sun upon his back, vaguely recalled the colors cast onto the canopy of rock around them mingling with the sensations of their bodies pulling and pushing upon each other, the slickness of their joining as he holstered himself to the base, firing his blood and encouraging him to up his pace.

Ragged moans of encouragement fell from her lips. He kissed her, his tongue mimicking his cock’s strokes, and swallowed her sounds into his throat. Their bodies were intertwined, limbs tangled, skin slick and hot against each other, until he felt her climbing toward the peak of release once more. He pushed up onto his knees and cupped her breasts, teasing them, unable to keep his hands still as he slid them down to her thighs and took in the glorious disarray of this woman sprawled beneath him. He took her legs in hand and, anchoring himself with a firm grip, gave into the need to thrust hard.

Her sudden cry of pleasure nearly undid him. He threw his head back as she did the same and slammed his hips against her, her fingernails scoring his rear as she begged him with her gestures for all he had. He gripped her hips and pounded hard, his muscles torquing, his chest tight with emotion, his senses so attuned to her body that he could feel her orgasm rising hard and fast. Her fingers gripped him desperately.

“Toby, God, oh God, don’t stop…” Her cry fizzled into a drawn-out moan as her back arched and her breasts bounced, and she fell off the precipice and crashed down the other side.

His skin slapped hers as he finally felt his balls tighten painfully and his climax shoot forth, hot streams of seed that caused a roar to rip from his throat while he released everything he felt for her right now. He finally realized the pain in his knees on the hard, sandstone floor of the shelter. He’d have bruises there. Happily.

He came back down to Earth to see her looking up at him so dreamily, her palms cupping his cheeks and jaw, her eyes so warm, it was a wonder that this had even happened. He smiled, knowing it was lopsided, knowing he was slickened with sweat, and he withdrew from her to peel away the condom and tie it off, setting it aside. He collapsed beside her and rolled her onto her side, nestling behind her and worming his arm beneath her head. He spooned her, and she draped a leg around his knee to hold him closer, her arm coming up to rest upon the one embracing her.

All he wanted was to hold her. He wanted to sleep against her and wake up ready to do it again. He cupped her breast, his finger toying lazily with the peak, and he kissed and nuzzled the back of her head as the final sliver of sun disappeared behind the mesa, shooting rays of purple and orange across the sky from the pale gray silhouette of the land formations.

“It’s so beautiful,” she whispered. Her fingers tightened upon him. “All of it.”

Satisfaction—and need to climb that peak again, to go crashing over it like a tidal wave once more—filled him with happiness, when a phone buzzed and the telltale chimes told him a text had hit one of their phones. Rose—still dazed, if her ragged breathing was any indication—rummaged through the pile for her cell, pulling it out and waking up the screen, just as he reached to do the same.