The Rebel and the Cowboy (The Carmody Brothers Book 2) Page 6

  “Pleasure, ma’am,” he said.

  He walked across the road to where his pickup was parked and got in. She was just pulling away from the curb as he did a U-turn, and he wound up following her out of town. He put the window down and rested his forearm along the top of the door as he drove, keeping a safe distance as he trailed her out to the ranch. The night was still warm, and the radio was playing an old Dire Straits song, “Brothers in Arms.” Watching Eva’s taillights, Casey let himself think about the moment in the diner when she’d asked if he had a girlfriend.

  There was something between them, something they both felt. An attraction, a magnetism.

  She was unlike any other woman he’d ever known—a bit wild, fun, maybe even a little dangerous. If he hadn’t been there to hold her back tonight, he could only guess at what she’d planned on throwing at her ex next. A barstool? A fist?

  He admired her fighting spirit and her refusal to concede, and he was becoming increasingly obsessed with the need to find out if her mouth was as soft and sweet as it looked.

  And he really, really wanted to fill his hands with her perky little breasts.

  He could feel himself growing hard and he eased off the gas a little. He was getting way ahead of himself. Reading too much into some heavy-duty flirtation and the heat in her eyes. They’d had fun over dinner, but it didn’t mean anything. It definitely didn’t mean that anything was going to happen between them tonight.

  And she was leaving tomorrow.

  Ahead of him, Eva’s left turn signal came on and he followed her up the bumpy gravel drive to the house. He parked beside her and made himself take his time getting out of the car, refusing to rush like a horny teenager just for the pleasure of scoring a few more minutes’ conversation with her in the dark.

  He took his time gathering his jacket and phone, then got out of the car. She was waiting in front of her van, her face cast in shadows, hands tucked into the pockets of her pants. She looked as though she was supremely at ease, but as he drew closer he could feel the tension in her.

  The edginess.

  He pretended to inspect the front of her van.

  “Didn’t bring any deer home. Good work,” he said.

  “Had my heart in my mouth the whole drive.”

  He wished he could see her face properly, wished he was the kind of guy who acted first and thought second. She was so damned pretty and sexy.

  “Think you’ll drive back through Salt Lake City on the way home tomorrow?” he asked, because it was safer than saying the things he really wanted to say.

  She laughed, the sound low and husky. “You don’t really want to stand here talking travel routes with me, do you, Casey?”

  He was still trying to work out what to say in response when she turned and headed for the path beside the barn.

  Damn. Real smooth with the frickin’ Google maps routine, Carmody.

  “You coming or not?” she called over her shoulder.

  For a moment he was so thrown he didn’t know what to do. And then he did, and he was moving, following her through the dark like a heat-seeking missile.

  *

  Eva’s heart was pounding so hard it was a wonder it didn’t hammer its way out of her chest. She could hear Casey following her and she got a little breathless thinking about what was about to happen.

  Him, her, no clothes, a bed.

  She’d been thinking about it—about him—all the way home.

  The feel of his strong arm banded across her body. His voice in her ear, deep and low. The way he’d watched her across the diner table, his green eyes dark with hunger.

  Last night, she’d told herself not to be distracted by him, but the chances of her winning the commission were almost zero, and she was going home tomorrow.

  And she wanted to fuck Casey Carmody, big time.

  She’d wanted it from the moment she’d first laid eyes on him, and she didn’t see any good reason to deny herself the pleasure of riding his big, hard body. Getting the chance to lie skin to skin with him might be the only good thing that came out of her trip to Montana.

  She stepped up into the trailer and leaned across to flick on the reading light over the bed. Then she started on the buttons on her shirt. She had half of them undone by the time Casey filled the doorway and stepped inside. Once again he seemed to suck up all the available space, but tonight that was exactly the way she wanted it.

  His gaze went to where she was working on her buttons.

  “If you don’t mind, I like to unwrap my own presents,” he said.

  He stepped closer, gently easing her hands away. Then he undid the remaining three buttons, his fingers warm against her ribcage and belly, his gaze intent on the task. When he was done, he pushed her shirt open and took a good, long look at her breasts. She was wearing a white lace balconet bra, and the way his gaze went from one breast to the other told her she’d made a good choice.

  “Gorgeous,” he said, the single word thick and low with desire. He traced the frivolous, lacy edge of one bra cup and she felt herself get even hotter and wetter with need.

  “Fair’s fair,” she said, reaching out to grab the hem of his T-shirt. She pulled it up, exposing the astonishing topography of his belly, chest, and shoulders.

  “Holy fuck,” she whispered. “How can you be real?”

  His shoulders were broad and bound with smooth muscle, his pecs covered with dark hair that narrowed to a silky, enticing trail that bisected his cut abs before disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans.

  He laughed. “I was going to say the same thing about you.”

  And then he closed the remaining distance between them, pulling her close and ducking his head to find her mouth. His lips were soft but firm on hers, and she gave a little moan as she realized how much she needed this. He took it as encouragement, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips, and when she opened to him, his groan echoed hers as his tongue swept into her mouth.

  He tasted like chocolate and warm nights and hot man, and she gave back as good as she got, clinging to his shoulders as they kissed as though their lives depended on it. He was the first to break the contact, muttering something under his breath as he trailed kisses to her ear and then down her neck. Need rocketed through her as he licked and nipped at her sensitive skin, his hands sliding up her ribcage to cup her breasts.

  “Yes,” she encouraged. “Please.”

  He pushed her bra up, and she almost forgot how to stand on her own two legs as his calloused fingers brushed over her nipples. The achy, needful throb between her thighs became a demand as he teased her, plucking and squeezing and soothing her with his clever hands.

  Pushing him away, she ignored his muffled protest and concentrated on unbuckling his belt before tackling his fly. He was wearing gray boxer briefs, his cock pressing against the soft fabric. Impatient to see him, she pushed his underwear down with shaking, urgent hands. He was everything she’d hoped for and more—thick, long, and incredibly hard.

  The thought of having all of that wonderful, hot hardness inside her made her even more frantic, and she pushed his jeans down his hips.

  “We in a rush?” he asked, amusement in his voice as he obligingly kicked off his boots and stepped out of his jeans and underwear.

  “Yes. Get on the bed,” she said, already working on her own pants.

  He looked as though he might be about to object to her bossiness—then she pushed her pants and panties down, revealing the neat patch of her pubic hair. His face got very intent then, his features hardening, his cock twitching against his belly.

  Half naked, she placed a hand in the middle of his chest and pushed him toward the bed. He went willingly, sitting on the edge of the mattress to watch her shrug out of her bra and shirt. She liked the way he looked at her, as though everything he saw pleased him.

  As though he wanted to be inside her as much as she wanted him to be there.

  She kicked her clothes to one side and took the two steps necessary t
o join him on the bed. Eyes holding his, she straddled him, snugging the hot, wet heart of her right against his hard cock as her breasts pressed against his chest. It felt good—amazing—to be skin to skin with him, and she angled her head and kissed him. His hands slid onto her breasts as their tongues danced together, his work-hardened hands once again driving her crazy as he played with her nipples.

  So much had happened in the last few days. She was stressed out, worried, angry, scared about her future—and right now, none of it mattered because Casey Carmody’s mouth was on hers, his body hard and ready.

  She made a small, regretful sound as he broke their kiss, only to shudder with pleasure when he immediately lowered his head to her breasts. The pull of his mouth on her nipple was nothing short of electric, the sensation shooting straight to her pussy. Need rippled through her as he split his attention between both breasts, sucking and teasing her with his hands and mouth.

  “You like that?” he asked, the words blurred by her flesh.

  “What do you think?” she asked, barely able to think, let alone speak.

  “What about this?” he asked, one big hand sliding over her hip and belly to where she was spread wide for him.

  Two fingers delved there, sliding over her slick flesh before plunging inside her.

  She bit her lip, pressing down on him, loving the feeling of being invaded, of being full.

  “You are so fucking hot,” he said, lifting his head to gaze at her in wonder. His eyelids were heavy, his cheeks flushed, his mouth slightly wet from her kisses.

  Maybe it was what he’d said, or the look in his eyes—either way, she was done. Leaning across, she grabbed her makeup bag from the counter and extracted one of the three condoms nestled inside. Her eyes locked with Casey’s, she tore the foil pack open with her teeth, then shifted back just enough to get her hands on his cock. He felt smooth as silk and incredibly hard as she rolled the condom onto him.

  The moment the contraceptive was safely deployed, she took him in hand and rose up onto her knees, guiding him to her entrance. His hands found her hips as she slid down onto him, his thickness filling and stretching her.

  “Oh, God, yes,” she sighed.

  Hands gripping the hard muscles of his shoulders, she closed her eyes and started to move, savoring the slide, the pressure, the pounding of her own heart. It was perfect, exactly what she’d needed, what she’d craved.

  Then she felt the heat of his mouth on her breasts again, and it stole the last of her sanity.

  Chapter Five

  Panting, desperate, she rode him as though her life depended on it, as though the fate of the universe hinged on the tension ratcheting tighter and tighter within her body. His own urgency growing, Casey slid his hands onto her ass and used the leverage to thrust up into her, rocking her hips back and forth to increase the contact between them.

  It was too much, too perfect, and suddenly she was gone. The world fell away, and for precious seconds there was nothing but pleasure as her body throbbed around his. He groaned, his cheek pressed to her breast, his breath hot on her skin as he found his own release mere seconds later.

  She could barely keep her head up afterward, sliding off his lap and onto the bed in one boneless movement. Her body felt warm and loose and damp as she lay with her eyes closed, her breathing still labored.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so turned on and so desperate for satisfaction. And he’d been perfect. The way he’d kissed her, the way he’d tortured her breasts, his lovely cock…

  The mattress dipped as Casey moved around beside her and she cracked an eye, only to realize he was taking care of the condom, wrapping it in a tissue before lobbing it toward the small trash can at the other end of the trailer.

  “He shoots, he scores,” she said when it landed dead center.

  He glanced across at her and treated her to one of his devastating smiles. “Hell, yeah.”

  She smiled in return and closed her eyes again, unable to keep them open.

  “I think you just ruined me, cowboy. Thanks for being so freaking hot.”

  “Feeling’s mutual, trust me.”

  The mattress dipped again and she opened her eyes to find him lying on his side beside her, head propped on his hand, his gaze roving lazily over her body.

  “Tell me about this,” he said, tracing the curving edge of the tattoo on her arm.

  She glanced down at her own arm. The tattoo was so much a part of her now she often forgot she had it. An abstract design, it zigzagged jaggedly down her upper arm in a black stroke that looked as though it could have been painted with a brush. Behind it were bright sprays of color—purple, yellow, green, blue, red.

  “A friend started tattooing in LA, and I wanted to support her,” she explained. “It’s a sort of homage to my early days in street art. That ridiculous squiggle used to be my tag.”

  He angled his head, trying to “read” it, and she laughed.

  “Don’t bother trying to see my name in it. We deliberately kept things vague so we didn’t get caught.”

  “I’m getting the sense you were trouble,” he said.

  “Depends on how you define trouble,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

  His gaze dropped to her breasts, lingering on her nipples, before skimming over her belly to focus on the damp triangle of hair between her legs. There was no mistaking the hunger in his eyes, or the way his cock was already hardening once again.

  “It’s barely been five minutes,” she said laughingly, not sure she was up for round two just yet.

  “Your fault,” he said. “These drive me crazy.” He leaned his head forward and lapped at her right breast, the rough, wet velvet of his tongue bringing her nipple to instant attention.

  She felt the stir of renewed desire between her thighs, and the fog of satisfaction clouding her mind slipped away.

  Apparently round two was not out of the question, after all.

  His hand cupped her left breast, his rough thumb teasing her to hardness even as his mouth did the same on her other breast. She lifted her hips restlessly, needing more already. As if he could read her mind, Casey slid a hand down her belly and between her legs.

  She spread wide for him, unashamed of how much she wanted him, of how good he made her feel. He stroked her with strong, confident fingers, before zeroing in on the spot that made her moan. Then he really went to work, stroking her pussy and kissing and sucking on her breasts until she was gripping the sheets in both hands and trembling with the building tension.

  “Tell me what you want and it’s yours,” he said, his voice a gravelly promise.

  Images flitted across her mind’s eye, each more decadent and dirty than the last. Then she felt the press of his erection against her thigh and knew that no matter what, she had to have him again.

  “You, inside me,” she panted.

  He left her briefly to grab another condom, and she watched impatiently as he slid it on. Then he rolled on top of her, his hairy legs rough against hers, his weight bearing down on her, and there was nothing in the world except the two of them.

  She lifted her hips, welcoming him, and he thrust inside her, so hard and hot she whimpered with how good it felt.

  This time around he was in charge, and he set a punishing pace, driving into her hard and fast. It was exactly what she wanted, what she needed, and it wasn’t long before she was arching off the bed, a second climax rippling through her. Then and only then did he slow the pace, his thrusts becoming almost leisurely as he stroked into her again and again. She watched his face, watched the pleasure taking him over, saw the hitch in his breathing, the way his neck muscles got tense and his mouth opened as he finally came.

  His weight came onto her fully for a long moment afterward, his face pressing into her neck. Then he caught himself, stirring lazily.

  “Sorry.”

  Withdrawing, he rolled off her, and she was surprised by the odd sense of loss she felt. Thrown, she reached out to snag
the quilt and pulled it over both of them.

  “Now I really am ruined,” she said.

  “Never say never,” he said. His eyes were closed, and a small, slightly smug smile curved his mouth.

  She figured he’d earned that smile, because it had been a long time since she’d felt this good. And to think, she’d almost denied herself this pleasure.

  She pushed her pillow into a more acceptable shape and studied his profile, her brain still moving at half speed thanks to all the post-great-sex endorphins.

  His nose was straight, and his cheeks were just starting to darken as his beard grew in. She had a sudden urge to reach out and test the texture of his stubble with her fingers, but instead she curled her hand into a fist.

  There would be no tender after-play with this man. She wasn’t stupid enough to walk into that bear trap.

  “Tell me something I don’t know, Casey Carmody,” she said instead.

  “What about? Quantum mechanics? Comparative religion? World championship chess?”

  She laughed. “Do you know anything about any of those things?”

  “Enough to sound stupid, but that’s about it.” He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. “Maybe you should narrow the field a little.”

  “Tell me about the ranch. Is it Jed’s place, and you and Sierra are just helping him out, or do you all own it or what?” she asked, figuring it was a pretty safe topic.

  “All four of us own it—me, Jed, Jesse, and Sierra. You haven’t met Jesse. He’s a pro saddle bronc rider and he and his girlfriend CJ usually only come home when the circuit brings them back to this part of the state.”

  “It’s pretty cool that you like your family enough to invest with them. I love my sister, Syd, but no way would I go into business with her.”

  Casey hesitated a moment. “We actually inherited the place after our parents died in a car accident.”

  “Shit.” Eva closed her eyes. So much for the ranch being a safe topic. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It was thirteen years ago,” he said with a shrug.

  Eva did the math in her head. She figured Casey was around her age—twenty-seven—which meant he couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen when his parents died.