Chapter 8
SANTIAGO
When I saw Blake talking to Grant Calloway at Timberline, I just about ripped him limb from limb. There are only two men that I’m okay with Blake talking to, and Grant isn’t one of them.
He finally felt my stare, and when he looked at me, I let my face do the talking. And my face said that I’d burn his body and bury the corpse if he didn’t walk away right then.
Wisely, he left.
I was going to leave Blake alone, give her some space. But then, of their own accord, my feet took me right to her. I didn’t think it’d lead to this. I mean, there’s always hoping, but hope doesn’t mean it’ll happen.
As I drive down the dark road toward Falling Sky, I send up a silent thank you to my lucky stars.
Evergreen Falls is nearly asleep. Warm porch lights glow from scattered homes, and smoke curls from chimneys into the ink-black sky.
Fresh snow blankets the pastures on either side of the road, reflecting just enough moonlight to make the landscape shimmer.
The only sounds are the steady hum of my truck and the occasional crunch of tires over packed snow.
As my house comes into view, the porch lights burn amber against the dark night, reflecting off the snow. The house doesn’t look the same way it did when I was a kid because of the remodel I did when I took over the ranch after my father. But it’s still the place I lay my head every night.
It’s home.
She watches the ranches roll past with the kind of quiet wonder that tells me she’s imagining what it’s like to live here.
I don’t usually bring women here. This is my space.
But it feels right to bring Blake.
Somewhere along the drive, she gave me my hat back.
She tucks a loose strand of dark hair behind one ear before settling deeper into the passenger seat.
Her oversized olive-green cardigan nearly swallows her, falling open just enough to reveal a cream knit sweater beneath it.
A long pendant necklace rests against the fabric, swaying gently every time we hit a bump in the road.
When I park my truck in the driveway on the side of the house, Blake’s hand lands on my thigh, and my skin burns with desire at her touch.
My cock hardens in my jeans, ready to explode.
Just one simple touch, and I’m on the verge of coming in my pants.
Blake leans across the center console, lowering her voice to a tone that makes my inner caveman pound on his chest. “You going to sweep me off my feet?”
This woman is going to be my undoing.
“Stay right there.” I step out into the crisp night air, circle around the truck, and open her door. Before she has a chance to protest, I slip one arm behind her knees and the other around her back.
She lets out a surprised laugh as I lift her into my arms. “You weren’t joking.”
“Never.”
Her arms slide around my neck, and she looks at me with that same bright smile she’s worn all evening.
The porch light catches the snowflakes tangled in her hair, making them sparkle like tiny stars.
I don’t think I've ever seen anything more beautiful.
The walk to the front door feels like an eternity as Blake’s mouth moves up and down the column of my neck.
Sucking, kissing, licking, biting.
I’m barely inside the door and kick it closed when her mouth reaches my ear. “I need you now,” she pants.
I’m frozen in the entry as a groan rumbles through my chest. “I’m trying to be a gentleman and at least get you to my bed before I dirty you up.”
Blake hops down from my arms, the look in her eye almost has me nervous. She steps backward, kicking off her shoes one at a time. “I didn’t ask for the gentleman tonight.”
Her hands go to the top of her pants and push them down her legs—her legs, sexy legs. My eyes travel her body, starting at her toes and up the inside of her leg. I stop at the juncture of her thighs, her core barely covered by a small strip of black fabric.
The hardness in my jeans throbs.
I follow her lead, slipping off my boots.
“I went home with the cowboy.” Blake reaches for the hem of her top, ripping it over her head and revealing a heathered gray bra. “Give me the vaquero.”
She spins on her heel, dashing for the living room, and I get the perfect view of her ass. That thin black thong slips between her round cheeks.
“Fuck me.” I bite my fist to keep myself in check.
This is Blake.
Blake Jennings.
She’s not just any other hook-up.
Despite my self-control, I find myself chasing after her, unbuttoning my jeans as I go.
She stops in the middle of the living room, spinning to face me. Her eyes widen, not expecting me to be right on her tail.
I pick her up, stride to the couch, and sit, placing her on my lap.
Her legs automatically fall to either side of my thighs, straddling me.
Blake’s hands go to the front of my shirt, unfastening the buttons. “Now what?” Once she’s done, she pushes the flannel fabric down my arms, running her hands over my chest.
Removing my hat, I place it on her head. “Now, I take you for a ride.”
She whimpers. I doubt she’s aware that she’s rubbing her center all over the front of my pants.
I slip my hand under the fabric of her thong at her hip and yank. I gather her ruined panties and stuff them in my pocket.
She quirks a brow. “Souvenir?”
“More like a memory.”
Her eyes widen imperceptibly, but I catch it.
Before I can ask, her hands are in my hair as she angles my head for a deep kiss. Her tongue invades my mouth, tasting me with fervor.
My hips thrust up, applying pressure in just the right spot for both of us. My hands slide up her thighs to her hips. Blake sighs into my mouth. My hands continue to roam until I reach the clasp of her bra.
Blake pulls back just enough to say, “Take it off.”
I don’t wait for further permission. The tension in her bra releases. Blake sits up, sliding the straps down her arms, allowing me to take in the view of her tits.
And damn, they’re perfect.
I cup them in my hands and swipe my thumb over her nipples, back and forth, causing them to tighten into a stiff peak.
Blake throws her head back in pleasure and moans.
“More,” she begs.
She’ll soon learn that she never needs to beg with me.
Lifting one breast, I lean forward and wrap my lips around the tip and suck, flicking my tongue. Blake’s hands grip my upper arms as if the sensations rushing through her body are throwing her off balance.
I give her mound the same treatment she gave my neck.
Sucking, kissing, licking, biting.
Her hips work her pussy over my covered cock, dampening the front of my jeans.
When I switch to her other breast and give it the same attention, my free hand drags down her stomach and to the apex of her thighs. She’s so wet that my fingers glide through her folds. I graze over her clit, causing her legs to tremble.
I break my mouth off her breast with a pop. “Are you ready, Baby?”
She chants her answer. “Yes, yes, yes.”
I pump one digit into her pussy, slipping in and out. Her inner muscles clamp around my finger. She’s so tight that my cock hardens almost to the point of pain.
“Look at me, Blake.”
When she obeys, I add another finger inside her, and I watch as her pupils blow wide. Her jaw drops in silent satisfaction.
But I don’t want her silence.
I want her screams.
My two digits easily find the rough spot inside her and stroke, while my thumb rubs circles around her bundles of nerves.
“Fuck, yes,” she shouts.
When I feel her channel start to spasm, I double my efforts. She moves her hips faster, and my hand keeps pace with her.
Blake’s hips jerk, her climax sending her over the edge. Her cum floods my hand, and she screams.
“Santi!”
She comes on my hand, in my house, wearing my hat.
If it were acceptable, I’d pound my chest in victory right now.
I slow my motions as she comes down from her high. She slumps forward, lazily moving her lips over mine.
“I need you inside me now,” she demands, and her hands go to the button of my jeans. She has my zipper down in seconds. I lift my hips, sliding my pants and boxers to my knees.
My length springs free, hard enough to pound nails.
Blake licks her lips and encircles my cock with her hand, pumping once then twice.
I grip her wrist, stopping her from continuing. “If you do that again, I’m going to come, and I want to be inside you when that happens.”
Blake whimpers as she lifts onto her knees, just as desperate for me as I am for her. She positions the tip and her entrance.
I grip her hips. “Condom.”
Blake shakes her head immediately. “I’m on the pill, and I’m clean.”
She wants to go bareback?
Shit.
This woman is not just going to ruin me. She’s going to kill me with sex.
“I’m clean,” I respond. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she nods resolutely. “Please, Santi. Please.”
I don’t need more than that.
She wants this.
I want this.
I pull her hips down at the same time I thrust up, filling her up. The warmth of her pussy envelopes my shaft, and I swear, I almost black out.
This feels perfect.
She’s perfect.
I hold myself still, waiting for her to adjust to my size. When she rocks her hips forward, I smirk.
“Ready for that ride, mi Cielo?”
She grins. “Hell yes, cowboy.”
Lifting her up, I pull her back down again, grinding into her clit.
“Oh, my God!”
I capture her mouth with mine in a swift, punishing kiss. When I pull back, I growl, “God isn’t here. I am. Your vaquero. When you scream, you scream my name.”
I feel her core clutch my length, my words spurring her on.
Noted.
“Yes,” she breathes out. “You and only you.”
Satisfied with her answer, I set a grueling pace, thrusting in and out of her pussy. With each pump of my hips, we unwind further and further until we’re both completely undone.
Being here, inside her, nothing has ever felt so right.
When I feel her muscles flutter around my cock, I use a hand to pinch her clit.
Blake’s scream is louder than the first. Her pussy squeezes, pulling me into oblivion with her. My cock pulses, emptying inside her.
Our bodies relax at the same time, and Blake collapses on my chest.
“That was quite the ride.”
My chest shakes as I chuckle.
“Gather your strength,” I instruct as I stand, wrapping her legs around my waist.
I kick my pants off my legs, then head for the staircase.
She lets out a surprised squeak and holds on to my shoulders as I carry her up the stairs to my room.
“That was just round one.”
Blake’s eyes widen.
“Let’s see if you can hold on through round two.”