14
I transfer my load to the dryer and hit start.
I stare at the timer. Thirty minutes.
It’s a cruel joke from the universe to see if I’ll last the next half hour with Charlie Montgomery.
I’ve been curious about this brooding cowboy more than I’d like to admit. The way he wakes at three thirty in the morning and doesn’t return home until the sun is down. The reason for the grumpy scowl on his face.How his ranch got its name.
But standing in his house at midnight sharing strange truths isn’t the way to get answers.
Breathing hard, I press a palm to my chest. My heart pumps like a freight train.
I’ll stay in the laundry room until my clothes are done. Then I’ll leave.
I look for a window to shimmy out of. No such luck.
Bad idea, this is a bad idea.
I know my own head. My heart.
Yes, I want sex, but sex with Charlie Montgomery skirts dangerous territory. Even the simple act of holding a conversation was a turn on. A spark ignited in me as his calloused thumb swept over my pulse. So intense, so intimate, I feel weak.
A rush of heat warms my core. I can’t imagine this cowboy in bed. And I can’t imagine myself with him.
Even if I want nothing more.
“Ruby.”
The deep rumble causes me to gasp. I spin around to find Charlie standing in the doorway of the laundry room.
Suddenly I feel so very dizzy.
“You scared me,” I manage to say.
“I’m sorry,” he grits out.
He looks like a raging cowboy—muscled and chest heaving, hands fisted at his side.
“I’m almost done,” I breathe. “Then I’ll get out of your hair.”
Suddenly, Charlie isn’t blocking my exit, but right in front of me, hauling me to his broad chest. His lips crash against mine. Our kiss is desperate and hungry. His big hands frame my face as our tongues tangle, and I moan into his mouth, losing myself in his passion.
I wind my arms around his neck, and with a groan, he hooks his large hands under my thighs and lifts me in his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist and shove my hands through his dark hair.
In response, he growls into my mouth and pulls me tighter against him, our tongues battling for a win.
Lightheaded with desire, I whimper into his mouth. God, even a kiss from Charlie is so much better than the sex I had on graduation night.
It’s like I’ve finally let out a scream that’s been building in my lungs for the past twenty-six years.
And then the worst thing happens. He stops.
Jerking back like he’s been burned, Charlie slams into the washer, causing a hollow clanging sound to echo around us. But still, he holds onto me.
“This can’t be anything,” he grits out, his cornflower blue eyes wild and glassy with lust.
“It won’t be.”
My to-do list is a siren song inside my head. Logic out the window. All I want is good sex. It might as well be with Charlie Montgomery. He’s just a man. Just a cowboy.
“I’m leaving in a few months,” I gasp against his lips. “And you have a ranch to run.”
This isn’t real.
All it is, is the right now.
I kiss his lips again before trailing down to nip at the pulse in his throat. He moans, and I drop my hand, cupping his massive erection through the front of his jeans. He’s so big and solid, and I desperately want him inside of me.
A tortured growl shakes out of him. “What do you want, Ruby?”
His hard jaw is set. In his eyes, I see he’s waiting for me to give consent.
I shiver. “You, Charlie. I want you. One night.”
His Adam’s apple bobs. “One night?”
“One time.”
His eyes darken, then flare, like every ounce of control inside of him has snapped.
And then his mouth is on mine, and he’s carrying me down the hall and up the stairs.
I nip at his throat, his bottom lip, the lobe of his ear.
Tug on his belt, the waist of his jeans.
I want every part of him beneath my hands.
I’ve never been so happy in my life. I would hand this man my heart and soul right here and now if he gives me what I need.
I need to be touched.
I need him .
In seconds, we’re in his room and Charlie’s setting me on my feet.
We come together like magnets. Shed our clothes like we’re on fire.
I tug at his belt greedily, and soon his jeans are gone and I’m in my bra and panties.
A painful-looking erection strains against the thin fabric of his black briefs.
“Jesus,” Charlie says hoarsely, a shudder rolling through his broad shoulders. He devours my body with his dark eyes. “Ruby, you could kill a man with a body like that.”
I flush, strangely not self-conscious about the way he’s staring at me. “Never seen a woman before, Cowboy?” I tease.
“I’ve never seen you, Ruby,” he rasps. “You’re goddamn beautiful.” Hardworking hands grip my waist. “I don’t have a chance with you around, do I? You’re gonna ruin me.”
I give him a flirty little smile. “You afraid of me, Cowboy?”
His handsome face sobers. “Deathly.”
He backs me up toward the bed, his mouth on my throat, trailing my collarbone.
I put a hand on his shoulder, and Charlie freezes. “What’s wrong? Do you want me to stop?” No anger in his eyes, just a simple question. And because he’s a good man, he’d stop if that’s what I wanted.
“No. I just ...” I lick my lips, thinking of my doctor’s advice. “I need to go slow.”
Worry stains his drawl. “Are you a—”
“No,” I rush out, not wanting to scare him off. “I haven’t had a lot of experience.” Heat creeps across my cheeks. “I’ve never had a ...well, you know.”
His gaze turns almost feral. Like it’s a challenge, and he’s glad for it.
“Ruby.” His voice is rough as his hands tighten on my waist. “Baby, you have no idea what I’m gonna do to you.”
Baby . The term of endearment has me going weak-kneed.
“I’ll go slow,” Charlie says as he sets me on the edge of the bed. He leans in, sweeping a kiss across my mouth. “I’ll give you whatever you want. You’re in control.”
“Me?” I whisper against his lips. It’s a stunning notion. Control. That this man is letting me take the reins and lead, never treating me like I’m weak or too fragile to handle.
Instead of nerves, all I have is exhilaration.
“Yes, you ,” he growls. “You have me.”
I close my eyes at his words, not even trying to pretend I don’t like the way the statement sounds in his mouth.
You have me.
Charlie drops to his knees in front of me. I grab the hem of his T-shirt and tear it off.
“Oh,” I whisper, coming back to my senses. I press a hand to my heart. My pulse pounds in my ears.
His body is spectacular. Charlie’s a chiseled mountain of a cowboy, lean and muscular from years of ranch work, from years of roping horses. The dark dusting of hair on his ridged chest and over his tan forearms steals my breath. Everything about him screams real man.
I lean in and slide my hands over the hard, cut angles of his body, the rippling flex of his shoulders. A muscle tenses in his jaw, his expression warring between flat out torture and amusement as I continue to stroke my hands over his body.
I haven’t touched a man like this, but with Charlie, it’s instinctual. My hands and lips know where to go.
Like we’re matched.
“You’re beautiful, Charlie.”
Whipped by my words, lust flashes in his piercing blue eyes as he pulls me close.
I moan as his big hands—rough, rugged—slide up my legs, squeezing my thighs so hard I hope they leave bruises.
It’s automatic the way my body responds. I lie back on the bed’s soft brown blanket, and Charlie traces a finger around the lacy edge of my panties.
That’s when I realize what he’s doing.
I jerk back and prop myself up on my elbows. “You don’t have to.”
He watches me closely. “I want to.” He leans in, his brow wickedly arched. “I’ve wanted a taste of you ever since you got here, darlin’.”
My mouth pops open in surprise. All I can do is nod.
“I’m gonna make this good for you, Ruby.” Without missing a beat, he tugs my hips closer to the edge of the bed, and I lie back down. “So goddamn good I’m gonna ruin you for every man who comes after me.”
No one. No one but you will ever do this to me.
Charlie hooks a finger through the strap of my underwear and drags them off. “Fuck me,” he rumbles, running a finger through my damp slit. “You’re soaked, baby.”
I whimper. My arousal lit up like kerosene.
“I have to taste you, Ruby.” Hot breath fans over the inside of my thighs. My heart palpitates. “Legs open, baby.”
I tremble as his hands split my knees.
When his mouth meets my sex, my hips buck. The sensation is wondrous. I moan as Charlie seals his warm lips to my clit. He sucks slow and fast, hard and soft.
“Ohhh,” I cry out. Instinct takes over, and my back arches. “Charlie.” My fingers claw at his hair and he makes a throaty rumble of approval. “Charlie, please .”
He pauses long enough to say, “Scream for me, baby,” and then locks his mouth to me again. Long, lavishing strokes, then teasing flicks, stimulate my clit.
It’s too much; it’s not enough.
The build-up of pressure, of friction is like a fever dream.
“Oh my god,” I cry out, gripping the blanket, relishing the coarse feel of his beard scraping against the inside of my thighs. “Charlie, don’t stop. Don’t .”
He doesn’t. Gold dances in front of my eyes as my body bucks, but Charlie pins an arm across my hips and brings me back to the bed.
He won’t let me dislodge him. He’s here , and that thought sends me over the edge.
My thighs tremor, and every muscle in my core tightens.
And then, blast off. I come for the first time.
My scream is long and loud, and I let myself feel it.
I own it.
I buck against his mouth and an unholy sound rips out of him. Smug. Satisfied.
My eyes roll back and my entire body practically levitates off the bed. Long trails of wetness stream from my sex to trail down my thighs. My breath shakes out in a tremble and my heartbeat tremors, but steadies.
Long breaths, I take long breaths.
“You okay, Ruby?” Charlie rasps and I realize he’s up on his knees, watching me. His bare chest heaves and his beard is damp. Because of me.
I smile. I love it.