Эротические рассказы

The Rough and Ready Rancher. Kathie DeNoskyЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Rough and Ready Rancher - Kathie DeNosky


Скачать книгу
did you know what to do?”

      “Just something I picked up along the way.” She walked over to the swing and sat down. “When you’ve traveled as much as I have, you learn things without remembering how or when.”

      “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that,” he said, his voice containing a hint of suspicion. “Usually the horse goes to the trainer, not the other way around.”

      Jenna started the swing into motion. Let him think what he wanted. But instead of ignoring him as she intended, she found herself trying to explain. “I find a horse is more relaxed in a familiar environment, and it’s much easier to gain his trust. Once I’ve done that, I can teach him just about anything.”

      Flint pushed away from the post and walked over to sit on the porch rail in front of her. “So, you’ve been traveling around like this a long time?”

      “All my life.”

      “Wildcatter’s daughter?”

      She shook her head. “Daddy followed the rodeo circuit.” She stared out into the darkness. “Home has always been a camper on the back of a pickup truck.”

      A frown creased Flint’s brow. “Now, hold it. You had to have stayed somewhere long enough to get your education.”

      “Momma taught us for a while.” Jenna swallowed hard. She didn’t want to remember certain events of her childhood. It was too painful. “Later, Cooper and I kept up with our studies by correspondence until we’d earned the equivalent of our high school diplomas.”

      The night suddenly closed in and, disturbed by unpleasant memories, she rose from the swing. “I’d better get some sleep. I’d like to start Satin’s training first thing in the morning.”

      “Is there anything special you’ll need?”

      “No. He’s already wearing a halter, so I assume he’s trained to lead?”

      Flint nodded.

      She opened the screen door, but turned back, only to collide with his broad chest. His large, callused hands caught her shoulders to steady her, and Jenna’s stomach did a wobbly cartwheel at the sight of his handsome features so close to her own. He stared down at her for several long moments. She watched his firm lips part, heard his harsh intake of breath. When he gathered her more fully against him, her pulse pounded in her ears at the intense desire in the depths of his slumberous, brown eyes, and the scent of his clean, masculine skin.

      She brought her hands up to push herself free. But the feel of his rock-hard chest made her knees go weak, and she found herself clinging to his solid strength for support. How could a man she didn’t even know cause her to go into total meltdown? More important, why was she allowing it to happen?

      Somewhere in the back of Jenna’s mind an inner voice cautioned that she was flirting with disaster. But when Flint’s lips came down on hers to brand her with his kiss, the warning faded into oblivion.

      His hands roamed from her shoulders to tangle in her thick hair, and every cell in her body tingled to life. His thumbs slid along the column of her throat, and a molten surge of need gathered at the core of her. She tried to press her thighs together against the sweet pain of mounting desire, but the heat of Flint’s muscular leg, lodged between hers, had the intense sensations threatening to consume her. She tightened her legs around his in an effort to ease the burn and heard a groan rumble deep in his chest. Cupping her behind he pressed her higher along the rough denim covering his thigh.

      The slamming of a door somewhere inside the house jolted Jenna back to reality, and she pushed against him. “Please—”

      Releasing her, she watched Flint jam his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and walk over to lean against the newel post. His back to her, he took a deep breath. “Was there anything else you needed, Jenna?”

      His sudden withdrawal and dispassionate tone helped to douse the last traces of her desire. “No.”

      Bewildered by her body’s betrayal, and furious with herself, she allowed anger to take charge. She tried to wipe away the feel of his kiss with the back of her hand. “And I certainly didn’t need that.”

      “You didn’t turn it down.”

      “I didn’t ask for it, either.”

      Flint turned to face her, his smile meaningful. “Come on now, darlin’. We’re both too old to play games. Why else would you force yourself into my arms?”

      Outraged, Jenna saw red. “I turned to ask you to keep your men away from the corral tomorrow while I work with Satin. Nothing more.” She jerked the screen door open. “Let’s get something else straight while we’re at it. You grabbed me. And if you weren’t so full of yourself, you’d admit it, McCray.”

      The sting of Jenna’s words hit like a physical blow as Flint silently watched the door bang shut behind her. He had reached for her, but only to steady her, to keep her from falling. What he couldn’t figure out was why he’d allowed it to go beyond that. Maybe it had been the way she’d looked up at him with those big gray eyes—eyes that promised not only ecstasy and fulfillment, but mirrored a loneliness as deep as his own.

      He cursed a blue streak. Whatever the reason, when he felt her soft, pliable body beneath his hands he’d displayed all the finesse of a steam roller.

      Flint stepped off the porch and headed for the east pasture to check on the herd. He had to forget the feel of Jenna pressed against him, the taste of her lips clinging to his.

      He shook his head. Why he’d allowed her to get under his skin remained a mystery. But one thing was certain. No matter what her eyes promised or how tempting the moment became, he wouldn’t let it happen again. He’d learned long ago that beyond the green of his money, he was nothing more than a dust covered cowboy with very little to offer a woman. It was a lesson he’d learned the hard way. And he kept the diamond necklace he’d bought for his ex-wife in a glass dome in his office to make sure it was one he wouldn’t forget.

      He’d just been too long without a woman’s softness, that’s all, he reasoned. Every man needed physical release from time to time. And he was overdue. Way overdue.

      Jenna lay awake long after she left Flint. She’d had time to reflect on the incident, and her anger had cooled toward him, but not with herself. He might have initiated the encounter, but she could have called a halt to it at any time.

      So why hadn’t she?

      She stared at the ceiling, listening to Flint climb the stairs and go into his room. What was there about the man that made her so spineless? Had he been as effected by their kiss as she’d been?

      She’d been kissed many times before and never felt the way she had tonight. But the moment he’d taken her into his arms, her common sense had flown away like a big, green bird.

      Not even Dan’s kisses had brought her to such a fevered state. And she’d loved him.

      A mix of guilt and sadness suffused her when she thought of the young man she’d promised to marry. By now they should have been getting ready to celebrate their sixth anniversary. But life had taught her that plans change and guarantees for happiness weren’t handed out for the asking. Dan had died that day on the dirt floor of the rodeo arena, and she’d had to learn to get on with her life.

      Jenna impatiently wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, turned to her side and forced herself to relax. She’d wasted enough time feeling sorry for herself. She had a new horse to work with tomorrow, and she needed rest to meet the challenge. Besides, trying to figure out her reaction to Flint McCray was like trying to solve a crossword puzzle with no clues.

      Drifting toward the peacefulness of sleep, the sound of shots being fired brought her to instant awareness. Rolling to the side of the bed, she landed on the polished hardwood floor with a jarring thump. Her hand hit the nightstand, and something sharp pierced her palm, but after a startled cry, she ignored the pain and began inching her way toward


Скачать книгу
Яндекс.Метрика