Cowboy Heat by Delilah Devlin Read Free Book Online

lipped at fallen strands of hay.
    Jack grabbed her arm and pushed her so they were hidden from passersby. The slats of the float pressed hard against her spine. Jack’s hands palmed her hips, and he pushed his lower body against her.
    His bulk loomed, but his touch was gentle as he tucked an errant curl of hair behind her ear. “Not confidence, Mel. Just cautious optimism. I was hoping.”
    His voice was low, smooth and almost tender, different from his normal bantering tone. He moved closer, and the sudden tightness in her chest made her breathe in shallow pants.
    His lips moved closer, hovered over her own. “A little something on account…”
    And then he was kissing her, and she knew she was lost. His lips teased, tormented, fine lips, surprisingly soft, surprisingly gentle. Her pulse thundered in her ears and her breasts weresuddenly uncomfortable, hard and aching, as they pushed against his chest. His kiss went on, past the point where she had breath of her own, past the point where she knew where she ended and he began. She was liquid heat and light, weak with wanting him.
    He drew away slowly, returned to taste her once more and then withdrew again. When she opened her eyes his face filled her vision. He was smiling.
    When she could trust her voice she said, “And that’s just a kiss. What will happen when we fuck?”
    He grinned in delight at her words. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”
    “What, ‘fuck’?”
    “No. For you to admit that we will.”
    She hooted. “I never thought you’d want to do otherwise with your bet. Are you going to tell me you want to spend the night knitting tea cozies?”
    “You’ll find out very soon what I want to do. But now we head home.”
    She followed him along dirt roads, through open range where cattle grazed, past dams ablaze with pink and gray galahs and flocks of sulphur-crested cockatoos. The sun hung low in the west, its clear light spilling over the flat landscape. They reached Bundawalla Station and Jack drew to a halt at the yards. The next twenty minutes were spent seeing to the horses.
    Mel lingered, watching Minty roll in the dust. The heat of the day was fading to a comfortable warmth and the early stars were out. Cicadas filled the night with sound.
    When she turned from the railing, Jack took her hand without a word, and led her toward the manager’s house. The wide wraparound verandah of the old Queenslander was worn smooth, but swept clean. There was a couch on the side facing north, and a blind pulled half down to deflect the heat.
    “Beer?”
    She tilted her head to look up at him. “We both know what we’re here for, and it isn’t beer.”
    “Doesn’t mean I’m without courtesy.”
    She turned to face him, and her fingers drifted to the waist of his dusty jeans. Her blood thrummed, pulsing in heated beats, energizing her. “I’m more interested in seeing what else you can do.”
    His thumb brushed briefly over her lips and then traced a lazy path down her neck to where her pulse skittered. “I don’t think you’ll have any complaints.” His fingers pushed into the neck of her shirt, spreading over her collarbone, drumming lightly. “You’re overdressed.”
    She took the hint, and her fingers moved to the buttons of her shirt.
    But he grasped them, stilled the movement. “No, darling. This will be my pleasure.” He slipped the buttons, so slowly, so carefully that his fingertips didn’t graze her skin. When the shirt hung loose, he pushed it from her shoulders, and as his fingers trailed down her back she felt the catch of her bra loosen.
    His eyes were dark and mysterious in the starlight. She toed off her boots, and then his fingers were at the waist of her jeans, unsnapping, unzipping, pushing them down over her hips with her panties. The dreamy lethargy of earlier was gone, and she tore at his clothes, fired up with lust and the need to feel him. The drumming in her head was a heated urgency, it pounded like the blood