Her Bull Rider's Baby Page 13

  Her stomach crept toward her throat. “Yes. I want to.”

  A weight settled between them, pressed the air from her lungs, made his movements languid, deliberate, as he lowered himself between her thighs. His cock pressed against her pussy, and although she knew it wasn’t logical, she could feel the difference. She shifted her hips, made more room for him. Her gaze caught his, held. There was something open, almost raw in his expression. She felt her own expression open in response, almost as if this really was their first time and they were caught unaware of the awkward, fumbling intimacy of the act.

  He reached between them, positioned himself, fingers brushing her sex. He gasped at the contact. “So wet,” he muttered. “So wet.”

  She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. He would feel that wetness, that welcome her body had for him, just as she would feel him.

  He pushed forward, a ragged breath leaving him. “Slow.” More reminding himself than her.

  Her hand found his shoulder, the other finding his cheek. And their gazes, still locked. She couldn’t have looked away if she tried.

  He pressed forward another inch. Delicious stretch, delightful pinch as she accommodated him. “So big,” she whispered to him. “I can feel every inch.”

  His eyelids sank closed, his hips surging forward to give her more. She lifted her own hips to meet his, welcoming him even deeper.

  They held like that for a moment, his arms taut as they framed her, the tension in him vibrating under her palms, as joined as they ever could be. When he began to move, it was controlled, as if he was determined to wring every last sensation from this experience. For her part, they could do this forever—separating almost to breaking, then coming together as deeply as possible—over and over and over again.

  His eyes opened, and the light within them pierced her heart. “Liliana.” A groan, torn from between his teeth. Then several long phrases in Portuguese, things she couldn’t translate but that sounded worshipful. Things she was certain he’d never said to her before.

  Who was this careful reverence for? Her, Liliana, as a woman he desired? Or as a woman who was carrying his baby?

  She shut her eyes tight. No. She’d take it for her and her alone. This was only sex. Sex like she’d never had before, but still just sex.

  She opened her eyes, dug her nails into his back. Faster. Harder. How she’d thought she wanted it before, how she usually wanted it.

  But he didn’t oblige. He kept his steady pace, driving them both on at the tempo he wanted. And damn her body—it responded again with another of those crazy, drowning orgasms, a tidal wave of pleasure leaving her gasping and sputtering.

  He came right along behind her, his cock jerking within her as he climaxed, an unfamiliar warmth spreading throughout her sex.

  His come. He would pull out in a second but leave his come behind. It seemed unspeakably dirty, a brand of his set inside her—but in a twisted way, she loved it.

  He collapsed on top of her for a second, slick with sweat and his breath ragged in her ear, his weight another welcome mark on her. But then he rolled to his side, only his hand touching her arm.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  Honestly, she wasn’t sure. It had been amazingly, incredibly hot—and amazingly, incredibly intimate. The heat she could handle. Growing closer to him, falling for him…

  No. That was not happening here. She would not make the idiot mistake of assuming that sex without a condom meant true love.

  “Great,” she said. “Didn’t even have to use my safe word.”

  A joke, but it fell like a lead balloon between them. He went stiff, then took his hand from her arm.

  “Good. I’ll… I’ll let you sleep now. You need the rest.” He pushed off the bed and began hunting for his clothes on the floor, his shoulders hunched.

  She swallowed hard. That had been… that had been mean of her. She knew better. “Hey,” she said. “You can sleep here. If you want.”

  A peace offering, one that left her vulnerable. He could say no, strike back at her.

  But she hoped he would say yes.

  He turned toward her, shirt in hand, still gloriously naked. But his expression was shuttered. Completely unreadable.

  She held her breath.

  “I won’t disturb you?”

  Not yes, not a no. “I’m a pretty restless sleeper. I’ll probably end up kicking you.”

  He was still for another moment. Then he dropped the shirt. “Just say helicopter if you want me to leave.”

  She smiled and made room for him. “Sure thing.”

  He settled on the bed, not touching her. They lay like that for what seemed like forever, her skin aching at his nearness. Maybe she could reach over, make it look like an accident, and brush against him? She could try.

  “Can I hold you?” His voice from the darkness, but nothing hesitant about it.

  She didn’t say anything, just slid into the circle of his arms. They both released a contented sigh at the same time.

  “Go to sleep.”

  Another order from him. But one she was happy to obey.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The sun’s rays were already chasing away the chill of the morning when Adriano made his way outside. Only six a.m., but it was already heating up. The day would be a scorcher even for late spring.

  Spring in April. Adriano almost laughed. He hadn’t quite gotten used to the switch in seasons up here. He’d never realized that for all that the temperatures were near the same, the heat of spring was very different from fall, at least not until the seasons had been reversed on him.

  Not that he had to get used to these odd seasons. He’d be back home next year, and the seasons would return to where they should be.

  A few years more. A few dollars more.

  But his mantra wasn’t as steadying as it once had been. He’d awoken at about three a.m., still on Colorado time. An extra hour to work out, to watch some videos—only he hadn’t wanted to do any of that. He’d wanted to stay in bed with her, to hold her close. She was warm and soft and felt so right in his arms.

  That was why he’d made himself get up.

  This was how it would began—the slip in focus, the shattering of his concentration. One morning of giving up on training would turn into two, then three—and then he’d find himself at the bottom of the rankings, wondering how he’d ended up there.

  And where would his family be then? How would they pay for his mother’s medical care?

  They wouldn’t, which was why he’d climbed out of bed.

  He worked out for an hour, pushing himself harder than usual, welcoming the strain in his limbs, the burn deep in his muscles. He’d be sore come tomorrow. Then he checked in on Lil, who’d still been sleeping, curled around a pillow, her hair spread behind her. He’d wanted to climb back into bed with her—so he went to his room to shower instead. Afterward, he’d slipped out for walk, needing some fresh air and open space.

  As for space, there was a lot of it, the ranch spreading as far as he could see. He passed the chicken coop about five minutes from the house. The chickens were clucking to each other as they scratched at the straw. A contented chicken made some of the nicest sounds in the world.

  Rufio trotted at Adriano’s heels, running ahead every so often to sniff at something interesting. He could almost imagine the dog was his and they were off to do their morning chores together. A dangerous fantasy.

  But it all felt so right, walking on a cool morning through the open air, a faithful dog by his side, the livestock calling good morning, even though the landscape was all wrong. This was another thing he missed about home—simply walking the land, letting the wide, wild stretch of it strengthen him, revitalize him. He never had time any longer to be the peão he was in his bones. A man shouldn’t spend too long away from the land—it scrambled his head.

  But after next year, after he won a championship, he’d have all the time in the world to walk his land. And he wanted his daughte
r by his side as he did.

  Adriano pushed on toward the barns in the distance where Lil was setting up her bull-breeding operation, separate from the other stock on the ranch. He wanted to see what she’d done, what kind of bulls she already had. He’d never thought much about the breeding side of it, at least not as much as Lil had, and he was curious.

  He walked past the chickens, through an orchard with more kinds of fruit trees than he’d ever thought existed, past the goat pen, and he still wasn’t even halfway there. The size of this place… it took up probably half this mountain valley, dwarfing even the casino he’d passed on the way in.

  Although it wasn’t quite as big as the ranch he’d grown up on. Estancias in Brazil tended to be in the thousands of hectares. As a boy, he’d wandered the estancia all day long and barely seen even a slice of it.

  Once he was done with the rodeo circuit, he could buy a ranch this size back home. He’d raise his cattle and his family there. It was what he’d always dreamed of, his mother, brothers, and sisters all there, a place where he could care for and protect all of them.

  But this situation with Lil—and not just the parts involving the baby—was complicating that dream. He’d meant to earn his money and leave America behind. But he couldn’t do that if it meant leaving his child behind. And after last night, he wasn’t so certain he wanted to leave Lil behind…

  He turned at the crunch of gravel behind him.

  Lil, dressed for the day, was coming along the path, her hands shoved into her pockets and her bump poking out before her. Rufio bounded over for a rub behind his ears.

  “Morning,” she called as she gave Rufio a pet.

  He’d run early from the cozy sensations the sight of her had evoked. But she brought new ones with her now, ones that made him want to take her hand and walk over every acre, pretending it was theirs. “Morning.” He kept all that he was feeling from his voice. “How did you sleep?”

  She looked well enough, her green-gray eyes sparkling and her skin glowing in the pink of the sunrise. A man would be happy to wake up to that. Adriano certainly had been.

  “Good. And you?”

  “Fine. I didn’t wake you up this morning, did I?” He didn’t think he had, but it was polite to ask.

  She shook her head. “I thought I got up early, but you’ve got me beat.”

  “I’m still a few hours ahead.”

  Rufio bounded back toward him, jumping up for more petting.

  “Rufio, get down,” Lil ordered.

  He crouched down. “Don’t scold him.” He rubbed at the dog’s ears and was rewarded with a happy doggy grunt. “What kind of dog is he?”

  “I call him a Jack Russell terrier, but he’s got something else in him. Maybe some cairn or fox terrier.” She studied him, but he kept his gaze on the dog. “Did you have dogs growing up?”

  “There were dogs all over the ranch. We could play with them, all the kids that lived there, but they weren’t really ours. They were like this.” He searched for the word in English, couldn’t find it. “Not any one kind of dog.”

  “Mutts.”

  “Yes, that.” For all that none of the dogs had belonged to him, there had been one that he’d been especially attached to—a brown brindle male that had slept on their front porch and had been his shadow most days. The dog had died the year he’d left for the rodeo circuit in Brazil.

  He hadn’t returned to the ranch for any length of time after that, and now that he’d moved his mother into her own home, there was no reason to return there. So why did the sight of this dog that wasn’t even his make him feel so homesick for a place that wasn’t his either?

  He straightened up. That wasn’t his dog. This wasn’t his home. And Lil wasn’t his woman.

  They stared at each other for a long moment, all out of conversation. Or perhaps putting off what needed to be spoken of next.

  Last night had been for release and selfishness. But today was for confronting what was wrong between them.

  He took a deep breath. Here in the fresh start of a morning outdoors was the best place to do it. “I know you’re mad at me,” he began. But he wasn’t certain why, so he left it there. She’d known he’d be gone a lot for competitions, he’d e-mailed while he was away, asking how she was and checking up on her—what was to be mad about?

  “Clever of you to figure that out.” She set her hands on her hips. “Was it me saying that exact thing last night that clued you in?”

  He bit back his exasperation. At least most of it. “I can’t reach out to you if you insist on sinking your teeth into my hand.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You really see yourself as the victim here, don’t you?”

  The edge in her voice sharpened his own temper. “I sent you messages asking how you were and you replied with bend yourself.”

  “No, I said Get bent. And you weren’t asking how I was.” Her hands curled into fists. “You were trying to run my life via e-mail.”

  He’d only meant to ensure she was taking proper care of herself… but perhaps she hadn’t seen them that way.

  Focus. Concentration. Control. He tried so hard to cling to those things with her, but he always failed. First in Vegas, then last night.

  Given her reaction to his e-mails, maybe it was better to let some control slip from his grasp.

  “I didn’t mean them that way.” A bitter thing to swallow down, that he might have been wrong. But they had to get along for the baby’s sake. “I only wanted to take care of you, even when I couldn’t be with you.”

  “It didn’t feel like caring. It felt controlling.” But her fists uncurled, became hands again.

  All right. The messages had been a mistake. “Perhaps next time you can tell me that instead of telling me to get bent?” he asked gently.

  Her chin dropped a fraction. “Yeah. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.”

  Not quite an apology, but some progress. He’d take it. “I’ll do better with the e-mails.”

  She sucked in a breath. “This bargain thing… it’s just not going to work.”

  His heart smacked hard against his ribs. She was going to call in the lawyers. He’d already lost. “I…” But he had nothing to save his cause.

  “You aren’t ever going to believe it’s better that the baby live with me,” she said. “And I’m never going to be happy with the baby gone so far for so long. Our ties to our families—they’re too strong and too far apart for us to ever come up with a good solution.”

  But her expression wasn’t as hopeless as her words.

  “Then what do we do?” He, who always had a plan, a detailed accounting of how to get what he wanted—he had no idea what to do here.

  “You’re not leaving for at least a year, right? And we… Well, last night…”

  Her cheeks were turning pink, which was an odd look on such a brash woman.

  “Do you regret it?” He cocked his head, studying her expression. If she regretted it…

  “God, no!” Her eyes went wide. “It’s just… Where do we stand now?”

  She sounded as confused as he was. They had crossed a bridge last night, make no mistake. But where they were now, he couldn’t say. And she couldn’t either.

  He pondered that. “Ignoring our attraction clearly doesn’t work.”

  “Clearly.” Dryly teasing.

  He suppressed his smile. “But we had agreed before—sleeping together was a bad idea.”

  It still was a bad idea—he might fall for her. And if he did, he’d be torn between the piece of his heart she held and the one he’d left behind in Brazil. A dangerous risk to take.

  But resisting her… it seemed he could do anything but that.

  “Honestly?” she asked. “I liked you last night.” As if she didn’t usually like him. “Dancing, sleeping together… I liked us last night.”

  He felt exactly the same way. He’d enjoyed himself more than he had—well, since Vegas. But his impulse to stay with her this morning, to forget
working out, to set aside his focus just for a day… He had to fight that if he was going to keep sleeping with her.

  A few years more, a few dollars more.

  A warning to himself now.

  But she deserved the truth. “It was the same for me,” he admitted.

  She took a sharp breath. “How about this? We go on like this, like we were last night. And when you’re ready to leave”—her voice caught—“we’ll reassess things then.”

  He lifted a hand to her face, wanting to touch the tinge of pink in her cheeks, to see if it was as soft as it looked. “Everything will change when the baby comes.” What he meant was: I’m still leaving. Nothing’s changing that.

  She understood. The resigned set of her mouth told him that. “Yes. But let’s see where we are then.”

  He tilted his face closer to hers, wanting to taste her lips. “I’m still going to take care of you. You’re the mother of my baby. But better than I have been.”

  “No more e-mails?” Soft. Not at all accusing. He guessed she was thinking more of kissing him than those messages.

  “No,” he said. “I’ll call you, and you can smack me over the phone when I’m annoying you.”

  She smiled. By God, what a beautiful smile she had. “You can tell me when I’m being too snappish.”

  He kissed her then, because he couldn’t hold back any longer. Her lips were slightly cold from the morning air, but they quickly warmed beneath his. He slipped a hand into her hair, pulled her closer.

  Her mouth opened, her tongue caressing his. Bold, so bold, this woman. She lit a fire in his blood like no other. His hand tightened in her hair, and she moaned with pleasure.

  Not too far. He couldn’t strip her naked here, with the goats looking on. Tonight. Tonight there would be time enough for everything he wanted to do. He eased his grip, pulled his mouth from hers.

  She blinked and bit her bottom lip, now a deeper shade of rose from their kiss. “Can we just forget the chores?”

  She meant it as a joke, but it hit deeper than she could have suspected. Because he could forget a lot of things with her, things he mustn’t forget.