25 Reasons to Hate Christmas and Cowboys Page 7

  My mouth landed on her nipple, drawing it in and sucking hard, my fingers finding the other and teasing it while I worked her with my tongue.

  “Oh,” she moaned quietly, her fingers spearing into my hair. Her short nails scraped over my scalp, making my balls tighten, and my cock ached to be released.

  I kissed my way down her belly and over her bare mound, delighting in the naked skin. “Fuck, this is hot,” I murmured. Without even a single strand between her legs, she was on full display, and damn it was sexy.

  “Kind of more necessary in a Sydney summer than it is here, in the snow.”

  I shook my head. “This is the best. Now I can lick every inch of you.”

  She wriggled beneath me, squeezing her legs together.

  “You want me to do that, Isabel?”

  She nodded. “I really do.”

  I licked a trail from her belly button, to the top of her mound, and then down lower, over the outside of her lips. She moved to widen her legs, but I banded an arm around her thighs, keeping them pressed tight together. She let out a moan of protest and a chuckle rumbled in my chest. “Patience.”

  “I haven’t got much of that when I’m very naked and your tongue is very close to where I really want it.”

  “Tell me where you want it.”

  She didn’t say anything, and when I looked up, a blush stained her cheeks.

  I kissed the skin, just above her slit. “Here?”

  She grinned. “Just slightly south of there, actually.”

  I moved lower but off to the left, kissing closer to her thigh.

  “Not much good with maps, huh? That’s like, south-west.”

  I loved her laugh. It was like a drug that sped up my heart and filled my chest. But I wanted to hear her scream more. I loosened my grip on her thighs and licked straight through her center.

  “Oh!” she cried out. Her hips jerked off the floor, and when she came back, I spread her legs and pinned her down again, opening her to me and slicking my tongue against her most sensitive parts.

  She was wet. Already so wet for me, and damn if she wasn’t the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted. I found her clit and circled it, loving the way her breaths turned into pants, before I really went to town on it. I slid my hands up the insides of her thighs, and they trembled at my touch. When I got to where I wanted to be, I slicked a finger through her juices.

  I dallied at her entrance, teasing her until her hips started moving, pressing down toward my fingers, nudging them inside her with each roll of her hips. Lust roared through me. Fucking hell. Isabel writhing, searching out her orgasm was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.

  “Johnny,” she moaned.

  “I got you, babe. I know what you need.” I slid two fingers up inside her. There was no resistance, her pussy slick and wet and willing. I tongued her clit as I moved my hand, sliding my fingers in and out of her body, and working her while her hips rolled.

  She pushed one hand to the back of my head and held me there. Not that it was necessary, because I wasn’t going anywhere. I would have set up camp between Isabel’s legs and lived there in bliss for eternity if she’d let me.

  But she was making needy little noises in the back of her throat that told me she was getting close. Her free hand moved to her breast and I about came as I watched her back arch, and her fingers squeeze her nipple. Fuck, she was a goddess. I’d made out with other women before. Made them come. Made them yell my name even. But none of them had looked like this. None of them had made me want to lock the entire world out. None of them had made me feel like no other woman in my bed would ever be enough. They’d all just been fun.

  I was royally screwed.

  Isabel moved her hips faster and I matched her pace until her thighs clamped around my head and her internal muscles began to spasm.

  “Oh, Johnny!” she yelled. I licked and sucked and pumped my fingers, riding out every moment of her orgasm. Eventually her grip on my hair loosened, and her legs flopped out. I withdrew my fingers slowly, meeting her eyes before licking her from my hand.

  Her green eyes smoldered back at me and it took every inch of willpower not to unzip my jeans and plunge inside her. But instead I gathered up her clothes and started dressing her again.

  “Wait. What are you doing? We aren’t done here.” She eyed the bulge in my jeans suggestively.

  I leaned in and kissed her softly. “Definitely not done. There’s so much more I want to do to you. But we’re done for now. Get dressed. We need to eat before dinner burns. And then there’s something I want to show you.”

  9

  Isabel

  A part of me was disappointed that Johnny had put a halt to things before I’d gotten a chance to see him. But I couldn’t deny that I was starving. And the aroma wafting from the kitchen made my stomach growl.

  “Just give me a minute to get dressed?” I took my clothes from him and stood, turning to find the bathroom so I could freshen up. A stinging slap on my bare ass made me jump, and my core gave another throb, already completely oversensitive from my orgasm. I shot Johnny a look of mock disapproval and he grinned from his spot on the floor.

  “Sorry, couldn’t help it. Your ass is smackable.”

  I shook my head and hurried down the hallway to find the bathroom before I ignored my empty stomach, ripped off his pants, and rode him like a cowgirl. His gaze burned through me as I walked away, and I let my hips sway a little more than usual, feeling bold.

  His bathroom was at the end of the hallway, small and outdated, but clean and neat. The tiles were freezing beneath my bare feet and I hurried to the bathmat in front of the sink. My skin was rapidly cooling now that I was away from the fire and the warmth of Johnny’s touch, but my reflection in his large mirror caught my eye.

  My lips were pink and swollen. My hair messed up from where I’d been writhing on the rug. And my smile spread ear to ear. I tried to dull it down, but I just couldn’t. That orgasm had been mind-blowing. But it was more than that. I’d never felt so comfortable with a man so quickly. Normally there was an awkward fumble for the guy to get his dick out and a quick clit rub before we were getting it on. Especially the first time. With Lachlan, it had taken him months to work out how I liked to be touched. But Johnny had gotten it right first go, and embarrassingly quickly.

  I used the facilities, washed my hands and face, and pulled my clothes back on. When I eventually wandered back out to the main room, Johnny had two plates heaped with food sitting on his dining room table.

  I sank into my chair gratefully, wondering when a man had last cooked for me. And realized the answer was never. If ever I hadn’t felt like cooking, Lachlan and I just ordered home delivery. Or we’d go out somewhere. He’d never once offered to make me a meal.

  Something about the simple act of being cooked for—being taken care of—made my heart swell.

  Johnny picked up his fork, spearing meat and vegetable until the utensil couldn’t take anymore, and shoved it in his mouth. I watched him, smiling.

  He chewed, swallowed, then paused, his fork in midair. “What?”

  I shrugged. “Nothing. I just…I like you.”

  He leaned in and brushed his lips over mine. “Feeling is mutual, babe. But eat, because my cooking isn’t half as good when it’s cold.”

  He was a liar. His food was amazing. My taste buds hummed with delight, and I scarfed down my dinner, filling my hollowed stomach until I wasn’t sure I could even move. But Johnny jumped up and cleared the table while I contemplated my food baby. And when he came back, he pulled my beanie over my hair and wrapped my scarf around my neck.

  “Had enough of me, huh? Sending me out into the snow?”

  “Nope. Never. I’d ask you to move in right now if I thought you’d say yes.”

  Though said casually, his words made me pause. At the same time, Johnny must have realized how they sounded because his smile faltered, and he rushed me toward the door, ignoring the comment. “Come on, this date isn’t done yet.�
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  Darkness had well and truly fallen outside, and the frigid air was a shock after the warmth of Johnny’s cabin. But the night was clear, and the sky was so full of stars it would have taken years to count them.

  “Wow,” I breathed.

  “Yeah, it’s something, isn’t it?”

  He grasped my hand and guided me to his truck, popping the lock and dropping the tailgate. I gasped when I took in the tray full of blankets and pillows, along with two porcelain mugs and a thermos. “When did you do all this?”

  He gripped my hips and lifted me onto the tailgate, waiting for me to scooch back onto the soft blankets he’d laid out. He followed me up. “While you were in the bathroom. You were gone for ages. Had to poop, huh?”

  I burst into laughter and smacked his chest hard. “No! You’re awful. What if I had been? I’d be totally embarrassed right now!”

  He got himself comfortable against a pile of pillows and pulled me to sit beside him. He put his arm around my shoulders, and I grabbed a blanket to cover us, snuggling in against his chest.

  “Nothin’ to be embarrassed about. Fact of life. Everyone does it.”

  I groaned into his chest. “Can we kill the poop talk? I used to think you were sexy. I’m not so sure now.”

  He chuckled and kissed my hair. “Liar. You’re totally hot for me. There’s hot chocolate in the thermos, if you want some?”

  “Maybe in a minute.” I relaxed against him, toying with a button on his shirt, popping it open and reaching inside, so my fingers touched the bare skin of his chest. He shivered, and I pulled back. “Sorry, my fingers are probably freezing.”

  But he grabbed my hand and put it back on his chest, right above his heart. “I like it.”

  For a while, we stared up at the night sky in all its glory, while I absently trailed my fingers over the light dusting of hair on his chest. “What do you want to do with your life, Johnny West? What does the future hold for you?”

  He thought that over for a moment. “In the short term? Bull riding. I’m hoping to make the pro circuit next year.”

  I pulled back to see his face. “You ride bulls?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m pretty good at it too. I wish you were around longer to come watch me ride.”

  I settled back down. “I’d really like to have seen that. Must be scary though?”

  “Nah, it’s good fun. Except when a bull steps on you.”

  “Oh my God. Does that really happen?”

  He tightened his arm around me. “Not all that often. But the danger is there. It’s kind of why I like it.”

  “Adrenaline junkie, huh?”

  “Maybe a bit.” He paused. “Maybe I’ll get to ride in the Australian circuit. I could come visit you.”

  The thought of him visiting me in Australia was nice. But it made me sad too. The time we had together here was rapidly slipping away. I wasn’t ready to give that up yet.

  “What about you? You seem like the type to have a five-year plan written on cardboard and tacked up above her bed.”

  “Hardly. I don’t even have a proper bed right now. Unless you count the one at the B & B or the fold-out couch I’ve been sleeping on for the past year.”

  “Want to explain?” Johnny’s voice filled with concern.

  I sighed. “Not really. I had a rough year. But I talked to Lila—she’s my best friend—last night, and we’ve got our names down for this amazing apartment that overlooks the beach. I’m praying we get it.”

  “Sounds awesome. You’ll have your own bed there, I assume?”

  I chuckled. “Yep. And bathroom too. And I’ll get to run on the beach every morning before breakfast, and swim in the evenings after work.” I breathed in deep and then blew the breath out slowly. “Aaaah. I can practically smell the salt air now.”

  Johnny snorted. “Actually, out here, that’s cow manure you can smell.”

  I groaned. “I thought you promised no more poop talk?”

  He pushed himself up into a seated position. “True. So maybe I should just show you what I actually brought you out here for then?”

  “You mean, there’s more than just the stars?”

  “Yep. Wait here.”

  I sat up, immediately missing his warmth as he jumped off the back of the truck bed. I decided perhaps I did need that hot chocolate after all, and picked up the thermos as Johnny jumped into the driver’s seat.

  “What are you doing in there?” I called curiously, carefully pouring the warm liquid into the mugs.

  “You’ll see.”

  There was a screech of static, and then a Christmas song began playing. Suddenly, the entire cabin lit up.

  I recoiled at the sudden brightness, but my eyes had adjusted by the time Johnny clambered back into the truck bed and took his cocoa. “Woah.”

  Christmas lights were everywhere. Much more than the strands I’d helped him string earlier. And they blinked on and off in time with the beat of song playing through the car speakers.

  “What do you think?” Johnny asked earnestly.

  “I think you didn’t need my help at all. How is it in time with the music?”

  “Computer program. And the music plays over the radio waves. So people will be able to hear it in their cars when they come to look.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek softly. “And I did need your help. It was only half done before today.”

  “Well, I’m impressed. You’re going to win the competition hands-down.”

  The smile that spread across Johnny’s face was so handsomely boyish and proud that I put my mug down and cupped his cheeks between my hands. I strained up and kissed his lips. He immediately responded and what was supposed to be a sweet peck on the lips deepened until our bodies were pressed tight together and I had butterflies in my belly. We kissed with the stars above our heads, and the sweet melody of the Christmas tune playing softly in the background.

  When he pulled away an inch, he pressed his forehead to mine. His gaze burned. “Isabel?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Do you want to go to the Christmas dance with me? You probably think it’s corny, but—”

  I pressed my lips against his to shut him up. And then kissed him until he wasn’t trying to talk anymore, and his hands were roaming my body with urgency. “It’s not corny,” I whispered. “I’d love to go.”

  My wide smile turned devilish. “But for now, can we get beneath these blankets so I can show you what else I’d like to do?”

  10

  Johnny

  Reason nine on Isabel’s Christmas hate list was the year her mom cut her bangs herself. They were apparently as crooked as a dog’s hind leg, and their family Christmas photo from that year still sat on her parents’ mantelpiece as a constant reminder. I righted that wrong by calling in a favor with my friend Amelia, who owned the only hairdresser’s in town. I organized for her to pamper Isabel for an entire morning.

  Reason seven was the year she stepped on a bee and realized she was allergic. After making a joke that that wouldn’t have happened anywhere but Australia, I’d searched high and low for someone within a three-hour drive that had a butterfly farm. I figured butterflies were a nicer insect than bees, right? I imagined the two of us having this romantic walk through some sort of greenhouse with brightly colored butterflies flittering around us, and Isabel gazing at the creatures like they were natural miracles. Then turning to me with that same look in her eyes.

  But it turned out that only about a handful of butterfly species made it through the winter. So I made do with getting her a pot of Mr. Farrow’s all natural honey, with a promise of using it as body paint before she went home.

  I’d thought it was a good alternative.

  Days had rolled by and we’d fallen into a comfortable routine. I drove her to and from work. Most nights we hung out at my place or went for dinner and a movie in town. She met Levi and my dad, and Mama had had her baking bread one evening, before I’d stolen her away to sneak kisses that made my head swim.

>   We’d rounded three bases in my cabin, and in her room at the B & B, but we’d yet to actually hit a home run. I didn’t exactly know what was stopping me. Because damn, I wanted Isabel more than I’d ever wanted anyone in my life. But every time we’d gotten close, I’d pulled back. I always made sure she was well satisfied, but I just wanted our first time to be special. A night she’d always remember. A memory just for the two of us, that I’d have long after she left.

  If I looked deeper, I might have said I was waiting for her feelings to match the depth of mine.

  The night of the dance rolled around all too quickly, and I picked Isabel up, an odd sense of melancholy sweeping over me. I kissed her when she jumped into my truck, but when she pulled back, questions were clear in her expression.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head and tried to straighten my shoulders. “Nothing now you’re here.”

  She bit her lip, then ran one hand to the back of my neck pulling me in closer. Her forehead touched mine. “You’re too sweet for your own good. I don’t know how I’m going to give you up.”

  I kissed her gently, and she kissed me back. But that was just the problem, wasn’t it? I didn’t know how I was going to give her up either. Christmas was only a week away, and she was on a plane out of here the day after.

  We broke apart and she touched the brim of my Stetson. “Loving the cowboy hat.”

  I grinned. “You know I’m normally more of a baseball cap kind of guy, but the hat comes out for the special occasions. I’d stick out like a sore thumb without one.” I jerked my hat toward the back seat. “I bought you one too.”

  Isabel twisted to look over her shoulder and let out a laugh as she grabbed the wide-brimmed hat from the back. She pulled it down on her head and my heart lurched. “Fuck, you look good in that.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Actually, I’ve changed my mind. Take it off. Every guy in the room is going to want you. And I can’t fight them all off.” I went to grab her hat, but she batted my hand away.