He whispered, “Hang on, darlin’,” and pulled completely out and plunged back in to the hilt.
Carter fucked her hard. Too hard to kiss her. Too hard for this turbulent mating to last very long.
But she didn’t seem to mind. Her sexy whimpering moans filled his ears. He told her how good she felt. Wet. Tight. How many different ways he planned to fuck her. He’d never been good at dirty talk in bed but it drove her crazy.
She arched off the bed, clamped her hands on his ass and cried out as she came again. Sending him right along behind her.
He pumped harder. Deeper. He wanted to rip off the condom and feel her slick walls bathed in his come. He wanted to watch his seed dripping down her leg, knowing he’d put it there.
He’d never felt so…possessive.
Carter groaned when the pulsing in his cock didn’t stop. It’d been a long time since he’d had sex, but no sex had ever been like this.
He came so goddamn hard he swore a blood vessel burst in his brain. He came so goddamn hard he swore he actually came twice. He collapsed on her. Not lightly either.
Macie sighed.
Neither one made an attempt to move and break their connection.
Thunder cracked outside the trailer and Macie didn’t freeze up.
He smiled against her temple. Looks like he had figured out a cure for her fear of thunderstorms after all.
Carter pushed up on his elbows to kiss her. He couldn’t get enough of the feel of her mouth welcoming his. He flustered her with the lazy, sweet kiss. He whispered,
“Amazin’ Macie. I had no idea how true that was.”
“Carter. You’re squishing me.”
“I ain’t exactly a featherweight and you are a little slip of a thing.” He pulled out and rolled to his side. He reached for a box of tissues and got rid of the condom. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, but that’s sort of a lie because it did lead to you endin’ up tangled in my sheets. I’m damn glad you’re in my bed.”
Macie smiled. “Mud and all?”
“Mud and all.”
“No regrets?”
“Just that I hurt your feelings.”
“You made up for it with hot sex.”
“Mmm, really?”
“But with you I’d even take lukewarm sex.”
“Yeah?”
“Shoot. I’d settle for cool sex. Yeah. Lots of cool, kinky sex.”
“You know that’s not what I meant, Macie.”
“So this isn’t just about sex?”
Not on your life, kitten. Carter flopped back on a pillow and strove to keep things light. “Fine. It ain’t all about sex. If you insist, I’ll let you cook and clean for me. All summer. Whenever the urge strikes you.”
“I’ll strike you, you jackass.” She pounced on him and held a pillow over his face.
He tore the pillow away and kissed her until she couldn’t breathe.
“No fair,” she panted. “Your kisses distract me.”
“All’s fair, since just lookin’ at you distracts me, my sweet darlin’.” He dragged his fingers up and down her spine and she practically purred. “Stay with me tonight, Macie.”
“I can’t.”
Or won’t? Disappointed, he said, “Okay.”
“I’m not cooking for you either. However, I will let you wash my back in the shower.” She yawned. “Later. When I’m not so tired.”
“Deal. Anything else?”
“No.”
After a minute he said, “Hey. The rain stopped.”
“Ssh. Stop yapping. I’m trying to sleep so I can get to those wickedly explicit dreams.”
“What kind of dreams? Am I in them?”
“Sort of.”
“Sort of? What the hell does that mean?”
“Well, you’re one of the sexy cowboys in my dreams.”
“One of? As in plural?”
“Yep.”
Block it out. Ah hell. He couldn’t. “I don’t suppose in your wicked dreams you and these sexy cowboys are just sittin’ around playin’ pinochle?”
“I don’t suppose we are.”
Carter paused and twirled a section of her hair around his index finger. “Sometime will you tell me what you are doin’ with these cowboys in your dreams?”
“I’d rather show you. But we’d need a third player in our game…of pinochle. I don’t suppose you’ve got a hot guy friend who’s up for a rodeo?”
Hell yeah, his buddy Jack would totally be up for that. “Lord, you’re killin’ me, woman, teasin’ me ’bout your fantasies. You are gonna share those details, right?”
“Yes. But I’m too tired to do the fantasy justice right now. Maybe we can act out some of the…more challenging parts later. I vaguely remember a scene with ropes.”
An image of a sexy, saucy Macie naked, at his mercy, blindfolded, tied up spread-eagled on his bed, every red-gold inch exposed and bound for his pleasure alone…yeah, his dick stirred with interest.
“I’ll remind you as a ranch kid I’m wicked good with ropes.” He squeezed her ass.
“You already know I’m good with my hands.”
“Thinking about your talented hands isn’t lulling me to sleep, Carter.”
“That’s what I’m countin’ on.”
Macie tried to scoot away from him.
He laughed and nestled her against his body again. “I’ll behave. For now. Sweet dreams, sweet darlin’.”
After a while she murmured, “I feel like I’m forgetting something important I’m supposed to be doing.”
You are doing it, Carter thought. Rather than answer her, he kissed the top of her head and drifted away.
Chapter Fifteen
Cash sipped his beer and stared out across the field beyond the barn. The rain had quit a few hours ago. The gloomy gray clouds cleared and the pink rays of the setting sun reflected on the tan grasses as a golden orange. It would’ve been a perfect evening for a horseback ride.
Except Macie hadn’t shown up.
Was it intentional on her part? He’d disappointed her so many times that she’d decided to give him a taste of his own medicine? It was no less than what he deserved.
Yet, it seemed out of character for her. Macie had always been forthright even when she was a little girl. If she’d changed her mind, she would’ve come right out and told him.
Would it feel worse if she’d just plain forgotten about their plans? No. The worst thing would be if Macie had blown him off because she’d gotten a better offer.
From that damn Carter McKay.
He’d felt so guilty last night after he and Gemma hit the road, when he realized not only had he left Macie alone in a strange place, he hadn’t even asked her if she’d wanted to ride along with them to Beulah. Then, when he’d heard about the nasty storms rolling across Wyoming, it’d made him stir-crazy not being able to reach her, especially after calling her for hours.
So he had to sit in a motel room twiddling his thumbs, wondering if his daughter was all right, letting that goddamn guilt gnaw through him. Keeping Gemma at arm’s length so she wouldn’t see how badly he’d fucked up again.
It should’ve pleased him to learn that Carter McKay had the wherewithal to check on Macie. Instead, it burned his ass. Oh, not because he’d found Carter in his daughter’s bed early this morning, but because he should’ve been there for her, her father, not some heart breakin’ wild goddamn cowboy.
Yeah. He was some great man. He could drown in the sea of regret of all the things he hadn’t done for his daughter. Hell, he’d been trying, bobbing along, swimming, mostly sinking, in that cesspool of remorse for a dozen years. He’d spent a few years shame-faced and shit-faced. Compacting his bad behavior with bad decisions. He’d spent a few more years wallowing in sex with any woman who’d crossed his path. All the while he cursed his bad luck and Macie’s mother. Blaming everyone but himself for his lack of parenting skills.
He’d finally wised up.
Cash supposed it’d make a more interesting story if he credited the change in himself to a vision, or because he’d received ancient wise words from a Lakota holy man. But the truth was, when Macie turned sixteen—the same age he was when he’d fathered her, the same age his father had been when he’d fathered him—he realized not only wasn’t he ready to be a grandfather, he’d never learned how to be a father.
That was just plain fucking sad. At that point, Cash knew he had to change and be the one to break the ugly cycle.
Luckily, Macie had her head screwed on straight, no thanks to him. She was a bright, kind, sweet, funny, beautiful young woman.
A young woman. He couldn’t help but think of her as a child. Cash took another swallow of beer. Was it because he hadn’t been around during her childhood and he’d always see her as kid? Or did all parents see their offspring that way? Macie was mature and wise in so many ways…yet in others…she seemed so damn young.
So were you.
At her age, he’d had a six-year-old child, not a six-year-old car. The autumn Cash turned twenty-two, he’d won his first championship gold buckle and his first big payout.
That same fall, Macie would’ve entered first grade. He didn’t even know the name of her elementary school. Or where she’d lived. A brief memory of her sweet face and big brown eyes flashed in his mind. Had she cried and gripped her mother’s hand? Did she think of him and wonder for the millionth time why her daddy wasn’t around?
God. How did he ask Macie any of this shit without sounding like a dolt? Without reminding her of all he’d never been to her?
Would they ever figure out this father/daughter relationship? When it appeared they’d both find excuses to let it remain the same fucked up way it’d been for years?
“Cash?”
He jumped at the sound of Gemma’s voice behind him.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
