Resisting the Rancher (Redwood Falls 3)

He wanted to linger over her, allow himself to get lost in the perfection of her body, but he caught himself. He needed sex, nothing else, and he needed to remember that. Always.

It was difficult as fuck, but he stayed focused. He had a goal—her orgasm and then his. Renewing his efforts, he shut his eyes and went back to work—admittedly the best fucking job he’d ever had.

****

Janet was lost. She couldn’t believe what he was doing to her, she couldn’t believe how she was responding to him. She was just there, just about to fall off the cliff. She tried to hold back but it was impossible. He was strumming her body like a master, the guy knew exactly what he was about and it was all she could do to retain her sanity before she went into free fall.

And then she did go into free fall and it was the best thing ever. Her toes curled, her fingernails clenched into his biceps and she bit off a scream, her brain splitting from her body as she found nirvana.

He gave her time to ride out her orgasm, but that was it. He climbed up the bed, pushing her thighs even farther apart as he mounted her. His erection bumped against her—against her feminine spot that was still flexing and contracting from her orgasm.

He reached down and swiped each of her wrists and nailed them to the bed by the side of her head. She sucked in a breath as her eyes flew open.

He stared down, a look of territorial brutality stamped on his features. He released one of her wrists. “Leave it,” he said as she began to reach for him, his voice little more than a snarl. Reaching down, he maneuvered the head of his penis to the entrance of her body. She felt the pressure immediately as his hand came back up to hold hers to the pillow once again.

As he began pushing, she swallowed hard as her muscles tightened up. He noticed and stalled, breathing hard above her head. “Relax,” he directed in a guttural tone.

Janet breathed deeply and tried to do as he’d said. His breaths were coming in harsh, steady pants, filling her ears, sending a primitive hunger down her spine. Something about the sound of his excitement made hers come flooding back as she felt herself relax, her body letting go of a wet heat.

He must have felt it because his muscles constricted and with a steady, unrelenting thrust, within seconds, he was seated all the way inside.

She almost screamed in pure feminine delight. The feeling was exquisite. She could feel herself being stretched, the uncompromising maleness of his hard, dominating body sending her senses careening into a whirlwind of excitement.

He grunted, a low roar of satisfaction as his goal was attained. He held that position for a moment, bottomed out within her.

And then he began pumping.

His fingers fastened like steel bands around her wrists, he began thrusting, deep, hard, steady strokes that at any other time, would have blown her mind, but as she tried to move in counterpart with him, he clamped down hard and growled low in his throat, another demand for her to be still.

As excited as she was to be in bed with him, his reaction made her wary. She’d already had her turn, so now it was his? She couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a simple coupling for him, and what else could it be? They’d only known each other for six days.

He pummeled steadily into her, stroking in and out, and there was little doubt that he was on a mission to come and to come quickly.

And come, he did—exploding inside of her, holding still and pushing in, grunting low and deep as he held her staked to the bed.

When it was over, his forehead fell to the pillow beside hers, and his weight came down on top of her, almost in its entirety. He held himself with one arm just a bit away so as not to crush her.

For that, at least, she was thankful.

So now she knew what sex with Jeff McIntyre was like. He was large and hard, hot and rough, and as much as he made her heart beat faster, she couldn’t help but think that it had been nothing but a clinical act to him.

She turned her head away, deep in uneasy thought, as he withdrew from her with gentle, yet economical movements.

This, of course, was why she didn’t do flings. Nothing in her psyche wanted to be so open, so intimate with a man who only wanted the use of her body.

As he said nothing but slipped into the bathroom, Janet scrambled from the bed. There was no question that he’d probably be pissed when he came back and found her missing, but she had her sanity to protect. She pulled her clothes on within seconds, and swiping the baby monitor from where he’d set it, she left the room on quiet feet, closing the door behind her.

****

For some crazy ass reason that she couldn’t explain, Janet had managed to sleep all the way through the night. After leaving Jeff’s room, she’d slipped into hers and after taking a quick peek at her sleeping baby, she’d gotten under the covers, certain she wouldn’t get a bit of rest that night. But the next thing she knew, Hannah was gurgling for attention and the sun was shining in from her bedroom window.

Now, as she made a pot of coffee, she felt like a girl doing the proverbial walk of shame, only she couldn’t simply tiptoe away and disappear. Her nerves were keyed up. And it wasn’t just the mind-bending orgasm she’d experienced the night before—Jeff hadn’t really fired her, had he?

And if he hadn’t, since it was Sunday, would the men still want breakfast at seven? She was totally out of her element here, so she decided not to mention anything that had been said or done the previous evening as she set to making breakfast as usual—she didn’t know what else to do.

Breakfast was one of the easy meals. Cereal usually, with toast she could do. Zach never showed and Janet figured he was sleeping in, but Jeff sauntered into the kitchen at a far more leisurely pace than he usually employed.

After giving her a dark, punishing look, he poured a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. Sipping at his brew, he was silent, but she could feel his eyes on her as she moved around the kitchen.

Her hair was still damp from her shower, and she wore a pair of clean yet ragged jeans and a t-shirt. Her feet were bare. She felt raw and exposed and she had not a single clue how to go on.

Hannah had been happily gurgling but now she fell quiet as she watched Janet as she moved from one position to the next around the kitchen. It was almost as if her baby was upset as well by the atmosphere in the room.

Janet

didn’t think the tension could get any worse until Jeff pushed out the chair next to him with a booted foot and said, “Sit down.”

She glanced at him, a thousand butterflies going wild in her tummy as he held her gaze without smiling, without flinching, with zero show of emotion. She picked up a dishcloth, wiping her hands, and then slowly, sat down in the chair he’d indicated.

She laced her fingers together in her lap and waited.

Like a man who was totally at ease in his own skin and with his surroundings, he moved his legs out from under the table and twisted his chair until he was directly facing her, only inches apart. Lacing his fingers behind his head, he took a hard breath and in a deep, resonating voice that lacked any emotion, announced, “I think we should get married.”

Janet gasped as her heart stuttered to a standstill before starting up again in triple time. Hannah reacted to his loud tone and let out a wail before she began steadily crying.

In total shock, not knowing if he was bullshitting her or not, Janet stood and lifted Hannah from her highchair, bouncing her on her hip, trying to calm her down. The baby curled into her, whimpering a bit more before slowly quieting, sticking a finger in her mouth.

Janet swirled to face Jeff with a thousand emotions fighting for dominance. “That wasn’t funny,” she announced.

“It wasn’t meant to be funny,” he replied, his voice still lacking emotion.

“Well, what did you mean by it?”

“Exactly what I said—and a word of warning—if Zach walks in, we’re shutting this conversation down, understand me?”

She glanced toward the living room but after only a week, she’d come to recognize the sounds in the house and she truly thought that Zach was probably still asleep in his room. “You’re crazy,” she said under her breath.

His eyes narrowed as his hands came down and crossed over his chest, as if he were settling into the chair for the duration. “How the hell do you think we should handle the situation?”

“What situation?”

“We’re sleeping together—with my son in the house. That shit can’t continue, I promise you.”