Single-Dad Cowboy by Vicki Lewis Thompson

Chapter Twenty

Nell quivered in anticipation as a magnificently naked Zeke straddled her hips and unscrewed the cap from a small bottle of cherry-flavored oil.

Pressing his finger to the top of the bottle, he tipped it over, righted it again and tasted the oil on his finger. “That’ll do.”

“Glad you…” She cleared the huskiness from her throat. “Glad you like it.”

“I like this whole program.” His hot gaze swept over her bare breasts. “Done this before, have you?”

“Never.”

His dark eyebrows arched. “But you had everything ready, right down to the beach towel spread over the sheet.”

“In case you get a little wild with the oil.”

“I intend to get very wild with the oil. Starting now.” He dribbled it in a circle on her left breast.

She gasped as the cool liquid touched her warm skin.

“Oh, look at that. It’s starting to drip. Can’t have that.” He set the bottle on the nightstand and cupped her breast. “Playtime.” Leaning over her, he began the slow process of driving her out of her mind.

By the time he’d worked his way down to her hips, the combo of fragrant oil and his talented mouth had destroyed her inhibitions. She opened her thighs in a blatant invitation.

His low chuckle was the sexiest sound in the world. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

She gulped. Maybe not all her inhibitions were gone.

The bottle in one hand, he slid up her slick body and made love to her mouth, thrusting his tongue deep, kissing her with abandon, stoking the flames. Then he lifted his head. “Say it,” he murmured, his gaze locked with hers. “Tell me what you want.”

And she did, using words she’d never spoken to a man, words that tightened her core and quickened his breathing.

His eyes turned almost black and his voice was thick with desire. “My pleasure.”

Easing back down, he tipped the bottle, using generous amounts of the fragrant oil as he stroked and massaged her aching pleasure center. Then he laid the empty bottle on the towel, pushed his hands under her hips and dipped his head.

When his mouth made contact, she cried out. And the cries kept coming as he settled in and took her to heights unknown until… Zeke. Zeke. Zeke…. She called his name until she was hoarse. The powerful waves of her climax left her gasping and shaking. He held her, his big hands steady, his murmured words coaxing her back to shore.

Slowly he lowered her hips and planted soft kisses along her inner thigh as he moved off the bed. The empty bottle landed on the nightstand with a soft click. Foil ripped and latex snapped. Then he was back, rising over her, seeking entrance, gliding his firm cock into her trembling channel.

Wrapping her arms around his muscular back, she lifted her gaze, certain she’d find desperation in his eyes, intense passion fueled by days of waiting, a jaw tight with the effort to restrain himself.

But no. Instead… tenderness. Her heart stalled. Caring, tenderness and… something more. Something life-changing. Did he know?

Maybe not.

She tightened her grip. “Make love to me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He began to move, but the crazy, untethered sexual adventure they’d shared a week ago had become richer. Every breath, every soft murmur resonated with new meaning.

The light that flared in his eyes as he pushed deep hadn’t been there before. He was taking his time, savoring the connection.

And so was she. Every gentle stroke, every precious moment of intimacy—such treasures. She reveled in the sweet friction. Gloried in the subtle rise of tension.

His movements were fluid, relaxed… joyful. The gradual increase in pace flowed naturally. His gaze never left hers.

Her core muscles tightened and his mouth curved in a slow smile. “There you go.”

That knowing smile sent liquid heat rushing to greet his next thrust. “Are you… close?”

“Yes.” His breathing had roughened, but not by much. “When you come, I’ll come.”

Dragging in more air, she moved her hands lower, cupping his glutes, pushing her fingertips into the rippling muscles. “Good.”

The light in his eyes brightened. “Sure is.” He bore down a bit more. And more yet.

Another thrust and she’d be… there. She arched her back. “Now!”

“Ah, Nell.” With a low groan, he drove home and shuddered, gasping her name as the pulses of his climax blended with the rolling rhythm of hers.

Glorious.

As the aftershocks lessened, he rested his forehead on her shoulder and gulped for air. She stroked his damp hair, yearning to prolong the wonder of what they’d just experienced. They’d transcended bodily pleasure to create lovemaking that was… irresistible. She wanted more of it.

At last he stirred, lifted his head and gazed down at her. He opened his mouth as if to say something, closed it again and shook his head. “I don’t… that was…”

“Special.”

He nodded. “Yes.” He took a shaky breath. “I’m getting up. Do you want anything?”

“Just you.”

“I’ll be right back.”

She watched him leave, marveling at the beauty of his broad shoulders, narrow hips and strong thighs. She was a lucky woman.

He wasn’t gone long, and when he returned, he carried a damp washcloth. “I thought you might feel a little sticky.”

“I do.” She grinned. “I can’t for the life of me figure out why.”

“It’s a mystery.” He lifted the washcloth. “May I?”

“Sounds like fun.”

“I’m not trying to seduce you.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, he carefully wiped her breasts.

“Are you sure?”

“No. But full disclosure, I’m a normal guy with normal recovery time. So even if I get you hot, I won’t be party ready yet.”

“No worries. After that last go-round, I doubt I’m seduce-able.”

He chuckled. “Is that a challenge?” He ran the washcloth over her stomach.

“It’s a fact. That was a primo experience. I want to bask in it for a while.”

“Me, too.” He continued to move the warm cloth over her sensitized skin. “I have something I’d—” He paused. “Maybe you should finish up.” He stood and swept a hand toward his crotch. “A mind of its own.”

“Wow. I’m flattered.” She scooted to a sitting position and took the washcloth from his outstretched hand.

“You get to me, Nell.”

“Ditto, Zeke.” She smiled. “You might want to turn your head.”

“Good advice.” He looked away while she finished the job.

“Thank you. I’m done.”

He glanced at her, his gaze warm as he took the washcloth. “I really do want some cuddle time. I’ll take this back and have a talk with my friend.”

“Would you please take this, too?” She rolled away from the towel and picked it up.

He reached for it. “See you soon.” When he returned, his friend no longer stood at attention. “This is a wonderful bed.” He climbed in and gathered her into his arms.

“Yeah, well, you sleep in a bunk.”

“And I’m fine with that. It’s the best option for now. Your bed is nicer, though, especially with you in it.”

“You’re welcome anytime.”

“I know. Wish it could be more often.” He drew her close and cradled her head against his shoulder. “That business we talked about in the truck—”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“I do, though. Whatever this is between us—it’s important.”

“Yes.”

“We’re important to each other. And to Claire. What I’m about to tell you—she doesn’t know and doesn’t need to know. Not now, anyway. Someday she’ll find out, but I want to postpone that moment. She’s already had to deal with a mother who…”

“Wasn’t ideal.”

“That’s a nice way of putting it.” He rested his cheek on the top of her head and tucked her even more securely into the curve of his body. “My father—and Jake’s—is a bigamist.”

“That still happens?” It didn’t sound real to her.

“Unfortunately.”

“But we have databases, now. Everyone keeps records. How does he get away with it?”

“I don’t know. Don’t really care. But he’s somehow convinced two different women that he’s their lawfully wedded husband—Jake’s mom and mine.” His body had become increasingly tense.

She rubbed his back, attempting to soothe his agitation. “When did you find out?”

“When I compared notes with Jake. My dad told me I had a half-brother and he led me to believe Jake was the result of a former love affair, one he’d broken off when he met my mom. That’s what Claire still believes.”

“But he had to know you’d figure out the truth when you came to Montana and talked to Jake.”

“I’m guessing he’s counting on my loyalty not to turn him in. Maybe even Jake’s loyalty, although I can tell you Jake has no interest in protecting him.”

“A man like that doesn’t deserve loyalty. How does he live with himself?”

“You’d have to ask him.”

“And how does he physically manage the logistics? That can’t be a simple matter.”

“I’m sure it’s not. He travels for business, which gives him plenty of leeway. He and my mom have been married for thirty-two years and she’s… she’s very trusting.”

“But since Jake’s the reason you guys moved here, your dad must have told your mom that much, at least.”

“Not after he swore me and Claire to secrecy. He convinced us the shock would be too much for her.”

“My God. What an operator. How did he explain your move?”

“He told her he’d heard about the place during a recent business trip and knew it would be perfect for Claire and me since we’ve always wanted to live on a ranch.”

“What about Jake’s mom? Does she know about you?”

“She doesn’t, but Jake says she wouldn’t be surprised that my dad fathered a kid with another woman. He repeatedly divorced and remarried Jake’s mother. I guess there were periods when he wasn’t a bigamist, but he just remarried Jake’s mom, so it’s true for now.”

“I’m sorry, Zeke.” She hugged him. “You must hate this.”

“Oh, yeah, I do.”

“Have you thought of turning him in?”

“Constantly. Now that Jake knows, he has the same thoughts. But we’d ruin our mothers’ lives in the process.”

“Ruin them? You’d free them from a toxic man!”

“Would they thank us? I’m not sure they would. The most innocent victim would be Claire. I doubt we could expose him and keep her in the dark. The truth could send her into a tailspin. She loves her Grampa Bud. And she’s a romantic. If she found out how he’s treated her Gramma Frannie….”

Nell took a shaky breath. “What a mess.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m glad you told me.” Her heart ached for him. First his wife, then his dad. He’d been knocked six ways to Sunday. No wonder he wanted to hang onto the status quo. “Even more than that, thank you for trusting me with the information.”

“You can’t even tell Val.”

“I won’t. Is Claire close to her grandparents, then? Does she miss them?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Now that you mention it, she told me something about a playhouse they’d built for her in their backyard.”

“They did that last year, when Claire and I were living in an apartment. It was their way of giving her something special. My dad and I built it and my mom and Claire painted, furnished and decorated it.”

“Are they in touch?”

“They call my cell and I let Claire do most of the talking. My mom wanted us to come back for a visit after school let out. I told her I was a new hire and couldn’t leave for that long. And my dad’s throwing up roadblocks to keep them from coming here.”

“Poor Claire. Poor you. I wish there was something I could do.”

Putting a finger under her chin, he tilted her face up. “There is.” He brushed his mouth against hers. “And you’re doing it.”