Cowgirls Don't Cry (Rough Riders 10)

“Nah.” He set the glass on the dresser. “I thought I might wake him up and he’s not included in the plans I have for you.”

She smiled. “What plans?”

“That depends on if you think we need to talk about anything that just happened.”

“We’ve done enough talking.”

“I agree. Let’s go to plan B.”

“Which is?”

“It’d be easier to show you.” Brandt ripped back the covers and crawled over her body, until he was hanging directly above her. He whipped aside the pillows so she laid flat on the mattress. He angled his head over hers, seeing her eyes spark interest and heat as his lips closed the distance between their mouths.

Jessie released a soft moan, which reverberated in his mouth as he kissed her. Her lips were warm and eager. Her tongue as curious to explore as his was. They kissed, drawing out the pleasure by switching between hungry openmouthed kisses, sweet nibbles, teasing nips and soft smooches.

Brandt gazed down at her.

She caressed the side of his face. “Man, I could kiss you for days.”

“I can arrange that. But first…” Brandt let his hands skim over her skin. “I want to touch you.

Everywhere. It might take a while, because I’ve been living for the day I got to put my hands all over you.”

He stretched out, propping his head on his left hand, figuring it’d take twice as long to acquaint himself with her body if he limited himself to one hand.

“You still trying to figure out all my ticklish spots?”

“No. I wanna figure out which spots make you squirm and which ones make you moan.” He let the rough tips of his fingers follow the line of her delicate neck down to the base of her throat. Then his thumb swept across her collarbone to her shoulder. Her skin was pale, he’d expected to see more freckles or moles, but it was just a silky smooth expanse of white.

His palm cupped the ball of her shoulder, traveling down to squeeze her firm biceps. He traced the bend in her elbow, first with his fingers, then with his tongue.

“Oh, I…wow. That feels good.”

“Tastes good too.” Brandt’s fingers drifted down the inside of her forearm to her wrist. He threaded his fingers through hers and brought their joined hands to his mouth, lightly kissing each fingertip. He reversed course back up her arms and did the same thing, bestowing the same diligent treatment to the other side, except he dragged it out a little more.

Jessie’s body wilted when he skimmed his fingers up and down her side, in a feather-light caress, from her armpit to the curve of her hip. She managed not to squirm too wildly when he wrapped her fingers on the rungs of the headboard and zigzagged openmouthed kisses down that same tender section of skin.

Twice.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly with the marked increase in her breathing. His c**k was so hard it pained him to bend over as he moved down the wonders of her body, but Brandt would not be rushed. He’d take his time, even if it damn near killed them both.

He paid no attention to her br**sts or her ni**les. Instead, his mouth brushed over every rib in her ribcage. Then down the centerline of her belly, past her belly button, to that sensitive span of skin between her narrow hipbones. When he put his mouth on her there, her entire belly rippled. So he did it over and over until she huffed out an impatient breath.

“What are you doing to me?”

“Memorizing you.” He pressed kisses around the triangle of strawberry blonde hair at the juncture of her thighs. Again he allowed his fingers to map the muscles in her legs, tease the skin on the inside and smooth his palm over the curve from hip to ankle.

He kissed the tops of her thighs. He lifted her leg to nuzzle the back of her thighs and to trace the bend in her knees with his tongue. He peppered kisses down her shinbones, which were covered in bruises from Landon smacking into her all the time. When he reached the top of her foot, he sucked at the delicate skin and Jessie shot up off the bed so fast she almost kicked him in the face. “Easy there,” he murmured.

“I heard that toe sucking was erotic, but this…this is way better. I never knew that would make me…”

“Make you what?”

“Tingle. My God. My whole body is tingling.”

He switched feet just to see her come unglued.

“Okay, and now in addition to making me tingle, you’re making me wet. Really wet. In fact, I think you should check it out,” she purred.

Brandt chuckled. “I believe you. But I’m not finished yet.” The same time he lifted her right ankle for a kiss, he noticed the tattoo. He outlined the shape of the butterfly with the pad of his thumb. “When did you get this?”

“The first time a bunch of us went in and India gave us all McKay brands.”

He’d heard about his cousin’s wives getting inked with the McKay cattle brand, but he’d never seen Jessie’s. He’d been too busy noticing other parts of her body.

“But last year, about the time I…quit grieving for Luke so hard and realized our life wasn’t as perfect as I’d made it out to be after he was gone, I wanted the symbol of his ownership gone too. So India designed this one, using the original tat, but you’d have to look really hard to see it.”

The colorful butterfly emerging from a land cocoon fit Jessie’s personal metamorphosis. Yet, it bothered him that she’d had the McKay brand removed. Why not just get a new tattoo? Keep the old one as a reminder of a past life event? If he thought about it too hard, he might take offense to it. Like Jessie no longer wanted to be associated with the McKays. Like she wanted to erase any part of her life with them.

If that’s true, why did she keep the McKay name?

“Brandt? What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.” He met her gaze and managed to smile before he placed a tender kiss on her tattoo. “But since I’m down by your feet, that means I’m all done exploring. Unless you can think of a spot or two I missed.”

He waited for her to remind him he hadn’t touched her ni**les, and she didn’t disappoint him.

Jessie released the headboard to cup her br**sts. “Put your mouth on me here.”

Brandt centered himself between her thighs and lowered his mouth to her left nipple. The peach colored tip was already hard so he began to draw circles around the quivering flesh on her chest with his fingers and his tongue. If he thought she squirmed before, it was nothing compared to how she reacted when he lavished attention on her br**sts. Every part. From the ni**les to the upper curve to the lower swell. He could stroke gently or pinch the tips with a little force, or nuzzle or softly suckle and she whimpered, moaned and thrashed.