With my right hand, I palmed my hard cock and gave a cursory stroke. Slow and lazy, easing my way into the real thing. Pleasure shot through me, though, my focus on the black lace in front of me.
My breaths came in tight gasps as I reached out with my free hand and grabbed the panties. Her panties. Fuck, what was I doing? I was pretty sure this wasn't part of the plan. But my hand shuttled up and down my cock as the fuse I'd lit burned shorter and shorter.
I gave in and wrapped the lace around my thick length just to feel something of hers on me, and I groaned—loud enough she probably heard me if she was out of the shower.
My dirty fucking mind went straight to her, naked and soapy, full round tits I'd tried so hard not to look at, curvy hips, long hair trailing down her back, and that perfect luscious ass.
“Fuck,” I groaned as my orgasm barreled through me almost without warning. “Oh, shit!” I spared one frantic glance at the cup on the counter, out of my reach, before I blew my load directly into her sexy as sin black panties.
God, what was wrong with me?
The sharp rap of knuckles on the door had me nearly jumping out of my skin, even as the rush of my orgasm still lingered.
“Mav, are you okay in there?”
I glanced down at my hands, at the underwear covered in my release, and instead of just owning my dirty deed, I balled up the black lace and shoved it into my pocket.
“Yeah, fine. I'm all set.”
I set myself to rights and sighed, staring at my reflection in the mirror as I washed my hands.
When I opened the door, she was casually settled on the couch, watching a cooking show.
“How'd it go?” Her cheeks turned pink, and she bit her lower lip as she waited for me to answer.
“Well, I sorta . . . missed.”
Her brows lifted. “Missed?”
“Yeah. I missed the cup.”
I held my breath, waiting for disappointment to flash in her eyes. Instead, she burst out laughing.
“What's so funny?”
“You. Mister, I've been doing this a long time, darlin'. You missed the cup.”
“I was distracted, okay? I'm not used to this kinda pressure.”
She stood and walked toward me. “You sounded like you got a handle on it there at the end.”
“I sure as hell did.”
Blinking those big eyes of hers up at me, she caught me off guard by wrapping her arms around my waist and hugging me tight. “Thank you for trying. We've got time.”
“We can try again after supper.”
“Do you want to?”
“Darlin', I'd do anything for you.”
4
Clara
“You wanna take my truck? I can drop you home after.” Maverick snagged his hat off the rack mounted on my wall and settled the light straw on his head in one smooth motion. God, he looked good doing it.
“Sure. If you don't mind coming all the way back out here.”
“It's no trouble, darlin'. I got no better place to be.”
He flashed me that smirk. The one he reserved for the buckle bunnies who hung out near the dance floor or the mechanical bull at the Silver Spur. I knew that smirk. I fantasized about it every once in a while, even though I knew I shouldn't.
“Okay then. Let's go, cowboy.”
The drive from the clinic to Wilde Horse Ranch was all of twenty minutes, but something had shifted between us. The weird tension of jumping into this new adventure had evaporated and been replaced with a sort of . . . promise. He was going to have to get himself off again to give me what I needed. I wanted him to. Because hearing him let out that ragged breath right before I knocked on the door was undeniably hot.
“Stardust doing any better?” Mav asked, his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel as he stared straight ahead.
“Oh, yeah. She'll be ready to ride in a few more days. It's just an allergic reaction.” I smiled, thinking of the horse that his sister-in-law, Mackenzie, loved like she was her best friend. “Hives aren't much fun, but now we know that new shampoo was to blame.”
“Good. That's real good.”
“How's Luke?” I asked, my heart tight with sadness thinking of the accident.
“He'll be there tonight . . . I already told you that.”
“Yeah, you did.” I reached out and put a palm on his forearm to ease his embarrassment. “But that's okay. You know it wasn't your fault, right? I bet he doesn’t blame you.”
Heaving a sigh, he shook his head. “I should've stopped him.”
“Your brother can't be stopped. He'll do what he wants. He always has. It was an accident any one of the hands could've had.”
“He'll have a limp the rest of his life.”
“So do most of the rodeo cowboys in Sunrise.”
He smiled a little at that. “True.”
“Stop blaming yourself. I have this thing about sticking up for people I care about. So don't make me defend you against yourself.”
“That sounds really fucking complicated.”
I grinned. “Exactly. You're not supposed to complicate my life, Maverick. You're supposed to make it better.”
“You don't think having a baby is going to complicate your life?”
“I know it will, but I'm also prepared for it, and I want this.”
His jaw clenched, and from the furrow of his brow, I could tell he was pondering.
“Okay, I promise I won't blame myself. But you have to promise me you'll loosen up tonight and have some fun. You're wound up so tight I'm afraid you're gonna snap.”
He pulled through the gates of Wilde Horse Ranch and headed down the long dirt road leading to the main house.
“I'm not.”
“Yeah. You are. This baby business has you tense. You need to relax if it's gonna happen. That's what all my research says.”
I arched a brow. “Research?”
“Yes, ma’am. You need to relax, make sure you're exercising and eating right, drinking plenty of fluids, and . . .”
Was that my big strong cowboy blushing? I was pretty sure, even with just the light from the house shining in as he parked, his cheeks were red.
“And?”
“You need to orgasm.”
I laughed. “I do?”
“Yeah. When you make the deposit. Something about it helps with moving things along.”
“Wow, you weren't kidding. You really did research all this.”
He turned off the engine. “I want to do this right.”
That made me laugh. “Well, missing the cup on your first donation wasn't the best way to start out.”
“Everyone's a critic,” he huffed. “C'mon, supper's waiting, and I'm gonna kick your ass at poker tonight.”
“Only if I let you.”
That damned smirk twisted his lips again, and this time, the flutter in my belly wouldn't be ignored, so I looked away. “You'll let me and you'll like it.”
Shit.
We walked through the massive doors that led into the house. Ostentatious was the word most used to describe Wes Wilde's decor choices, and boy, was it ever appropriate. Whether the decisions were made by his wife at the time or him, the decor screamed of someone who wanted to show off their money. The only thing in the main house I liked was the display honoring Remington Wilde, their grandfather, who famously played an Oscar-winning role as a cowboy outlaw in Spurred.