Chapter Fourteen
She was killing him. Slowly but surely. Tate dumped a bucket of feed into the grain box of one stall and went back for more, shaking his head in frustration. A constant ache, low in his abdomen, had been with him since Saturday night. Even before then, now that he thought about it.
That dream he’d had this morning sure hadn’t helped the situation. It had been the first of its kind he’d experienced since he was Buddy’s age. If Abby hadn’t woke him when she had, he’d probably have embarrassed both of them. But damn, it had been nice while it lasted. He’d been making love to Abby and things had just started to get interesting.
He sighed as he dumped feed into another trough. She had been so obviously embarrassed when he’d seen her getting dressed. He’d tried then to let her know he wanted her. And just in case she hadn’t gotten the message, he’d practically given her a written invitation later in the kitchen. You couldn’t get much blunter than that.
God, when she’d made that sound low in her throat, it had been all he could do not to drag her down to the floor and make love to her right there in the kitchen. At least he knew now that she wanted him as much as he did her. He could work with that. And he’d let her know that he was going to be here all day. The next move was hers. He could only pray she wasn’t too shy to do something about it.
He opened the doors leading to the pasture, gave a piercing whistle, then stood out of the way as the horses charged the barn. After the usual bickering and mayhem, they all settled into stalls, munching contentedly.
Tate had just gathered up the grooming tools and was heading for the first stall when he heard the back door of the house shut. Leaning a little, he looked out the barn window.
Abby was walking toward the chicken coop, a bucket of feed in her hand. Dog was still on the porch, chowing down on the contents of a pan. So he’d been right. Abby was feeding the dog leftovers. At this rate, he’d be so fat that he wouldn’t be able to chase a rabbit.
He kept watching as she fed the chickens, her glance constantly turning toward the barn. “Come on, Abby,” he muttered under his breath. “You know you want to. It’s not that far. Just put one foot in front of the other.”
Almost as though she heard him, she paused on her way out of the pen, one hand still on the gate, her gaze locked on the barn. Tate held his breath. She took one step, then a second. When she stopped, he felt like screaming. Abruptly, she turned back toward the house.
Well, hell. Maybe he was asking too much of her. Maybe he should just go back to the house right now and… No. He shook his head. Abby knew he wanted her. But he wasn’t going to coerce her into it. She had to at least meet him halfway. Of course, at the rate they were going, he might well be dead before she got around to it.
Giving up for the time being, he went back to work, a snort of disgust escaping him when he saw the mud covering Diamond’s back. Sometimes he wondered if she did it just because she knew they’d have to spend twice as much time cleaning her off as they did the rest of the horses.
By midmorning, he had six of the brood mares ensconced in the box stalls, and the rest moved to the pasture nearest the barn where he could keep an eye on them. He’d also brought the yearlings in closer. Now that the crops were in the ground, it was time to continue their training. There were at least four in the bunch that he hoped would bring top dollar. Making sure they were well trained would only increase their value.
He was so deep in plans that he almost didn’t hear the noise from the front of the barn. When he did glance up, he went still. Abby was standing framed in the opened door, looking like she was ready to bolt at the least excuse.
Pulse racing, Tate forced himself to act casual. “You don’t have to stand out there. Come on in.”
At the sound of his voice, she jumped slightly and he realized she probably couldn’t see him from where she was standing. He stepped out into the center aisle and saw her head turn in his direction.
Hesitantly, she moved forward. “I thought I’d come out and see what you wanted for lunch.”
Tate barely stopped the smile that threatened. So what if she needed an excuse? She was here and that was all that mattered. It couldn’t have been easy for her to gather the courage to do this. “Sandwiches will be fine.”
“Okay.” She hesitated again, then started to turn.
He couldn’t let her leave. She might never take this step again if he did. “I put some of the brood mares in the box stalls earlier. Looks like Sugar Baby could go any time now.”
Abby paused. “Sugar Baby?”
“Yes.” He took a step closer. “Her mother died not long after she was born. We tried to bottle-feed her, but she wouldn’t take it. It was looking pretty hopeless for her until we discovered that, if we put sugar on the nipple, she’d take it every time. That’s how she got her name.”
“Which one is she?”
Tate held out his hand. “Come on and I’ll show you.” His heart rate went up another notch when she slipped her hand into his. She smelled so damn good. Like soap and shampoo, but with an underlying scent that was uniquely hers. It was, he decided, sexier than any exotic perfume he’d ever smelled before.
He led her to the stall and stopped in front of a bay mare who watched them with curiosity, her delicate ears cocked forward. “This is Sugar Baby.” He propped one arm across the top of the stall door, gently pulling Abby closer while her attention was centered on the horse.
“She certainly is huge, isn’t she?”
“That’s the foal.” He shifted slightly, bringing her almost entirely into the circle of his arms. “You’ve been sewing this morning,” he commented.
She glanced up quickly. “Yes. How did you know?”
He released her hand and plucked a white thread from her hair, showing it to her.
“Oh.” She ran her fingers through her hair as though searching for more.
Tate knew the exact instant she realized how close together they were standing. Her hand ceased all motion and her gaze dropped to his mouth.
Hardly daring to breathe, he leaned toward her the tiniest bit. “Do you want me to kiss you, Abby?” He kept his tone soft and low.
She made a funny little noise that defied his powers of description, then nodded.
Keeping a tight rein on his emotions, he brushed her lips with his, then pulled away enough to see her face. “Like that?”
Scarlet flooded her cheeks and she lowered her eyes. “No.”
He curved his hand around the back of her neck under her hair, his thumb caressing the skin just below her ear. “Then how?”
“Like you did this morning,” she whispered.
The mixture of elation and desire that slammed into him left his knees weak and shaking. Holding her in place, he tilted her chin up. As soon as their lips met, hers parted. He let his tongue skim the opening, teasing her as he had in the kitchen, tasting her sweetness until he was dizzy with it.
When he finally let his tongue slip farther inside, she made the same sound she had this morning, the one that had been driving him crazy all day, and he couldn’t stand it another minute. His mouth took possession of hers and he plunged all the way in. Her tongue met his tentatively and he almost came unglued. A groan tore its way from deep inside him. “Abby, let me love you.”
“You really want me?” Even now she sounded surprised.
He took her hand and guided it to the front of his jeans. “Woman, I want you so badly it’s killing me.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth made an “O” of wonder as her fingers explored the hard length of the bulge. Tate had to close his eyes against the images that mouth conjured up. Just her touch had brought him closer to the edge than he’d ever been before with all his clothes on. He didn’t know how much more he could stand.
When her hand closed around him and squeezed, he knew he’d reached his limit. “Abby.” His voice was strangled, desperate.
“Yes.”
His eyes flew open. There was a look on her face he’d never seen before, a sudden gleam of confidence. And more, so much more. When his mouth claimed hers this time, he knew there would be no stopping for either of them.
Her arms slid around his neck and Tate realized she was standing on tiptoe, straining to reach him. He straightened, bringing her feet completely off the floor while he supported her. “Put your legs around me,” he murmured against her lips.
As she complied with no hesitation at all, he slid his hands under her bottom, pulling her tightly into him, and turned toward the stall he had prepared first thing this morning. Prepared while he’d prayed he wasn’t wasting his time. Prayers were answered, he thought dazedly as he lowered her to the horse blanket spread over the deep, clean-smelling hay.
Sitting on his heels, he gazed down at her. He knew for a fact that she hadn’t put on a bra this morning and he couldn’t wait another minute to touch her. His hand skimmed over her T-shirt, grazing a nipple that instantly hardened, and he watched her eyes glaze over. When he let his fingers trace it, outlining the erect shape, her head went back and she arched against his hand.
Suddenly touching wasn’t enough. He wanted to feast his eyes on her breasts, taste them until she was moaning with pleasure. He wanted to make up for what he’d done to her before and he was going to do it even if he was writhing in agony before it was over.
Still moving as though afraid she’d run, he pulled the T-shirt over her head. She didn’t run. The look she turned on him was so trusting that a lump formed in his throat. “Abby,” he whispered. While his hands found her breasts, his mouth covered hers again just in time to catch her whimper.
Somehow he got her jeans off and, as his mouth traveled down her neck, he slid his hand down the warm silky skin of her abdomen, the place where his child nested, snug and safe. That thought brought on an ache almost unbearable in its tenderness and for a moment he let his hand rest there before moving on.
When his fingers parted the curly mat of hair and touched the delicate folds of skin, Abby cried out, her body almost coming off the makeshift bed. She was so hot, so wet and so ready for him. He had never known anyone so responsive before.
His jeans suddenly became much too painful. He paused long enough to undo his belt and pull the zipper down, breathing a sigh of relief when he sprang free.
But apparently Abby thought he was about to make love to her right that minute. And why wouldn’t she? Wasn’t that exactly how it had happened on her first and only other time?
She touched his arm, her face pink again. “I-I want to see you, too.”
“I know you do,” he whispered, then leaned over and kissed her again.
As soon as he could tear himself away from her lips, he sat up and pulled off his boots, then yanked his T-shirt off. He even managed to get his jeans off in record time. When he was as nude as she was, he stretched out beside her. He wouldn’t have thought it possible, but as Abby’s gaze moved over him, his erection swelled even more.
She had been right, Abby thought. He was glorious. Not even her imagination had done him justice. Had there ever been another man like this one? She was dying to touch him, but her courage only went so far. Right now it was enough to know that he really wanted her.
When he leaned over to kiss her again, this time deeply, slowly, thoroughly, she turned to meet him. If she couldn’t bring herself to run her hands over him, at least she could feel his body pressed tightly to hers.
It seemed to take forever for his mouth to trail down to her breasts, but when he took a tender nipple between his teeth and flicked it with his tongue, it took all her willpower to keep from screaming with pleasure. It took another eternity for his hand to find its way back to the throbbing ache between her legs, but when it did, when he caressed her with light circular motions, she knew ecstasy was moments away.
When he moved away from her, she whimpered. She didn’t want these feelings to stop, ever. His murmured reassurance was lost in the pounding rush of her own heartbeat. Then he was kneeling between her thighs, his hands on her hips pulling her in to him. She expected to feel his weight cover her, as it had the time before, but it didn’t. Instead, with her bottom supported on his hard thighs, he used one hand to guide himself to her opening.
Tate was shocked at how tiny she was. He wanted to plunge inside her, bury himself as deeply as possible, but he didn’t dare. With his teeth clamped together in effort, he entered her slowly, just a little at a time, pausing with each movement to give her time to adjust. What seemed hours later, he was finally fully encased in her velvet-covered steel trap, afraid to move, afraid to even breathe. The sensation was so exquisite that even the smallest twitch could send him hurtling into the abyss.
His hand went back to her center, grasping it as his thumb slid over it, wanting to make sure she got as much pleasure from this as she was giving him. But he was totally unprepared for her reaction. With a startled cry, she bucked against him, forcing his fingers to tighten even more. With her frenzied movement, she partially unseated him.
Tate lost control. Holding her hips in place with his free hand, he drove into her, withdrew and then drove again, her name a groan on his lips. And then the impossible happened. Her already tight sheath clamped down on him in rippling waves that ran over his entire length again and again.
Abby’s scream of joyous release yanked his gaze to her face and what he saw there was the last straw. “Oh, God, sweetheart,” he gasped. “Abby!”
She was in the throes of yet another wave of spasms when he exploded, endlessly, intensely, his mind shattering into a million pieces. With no choice left, he followed her into oblivion.
Tate had no idea how much time had passed when he finally began to surface back to the here and now. At some point he had collapsed on top of her, and now found, to his surprise that he was still sheathed inside her, and still fully erect.
Unwilling and unable to withdraw, he rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She still hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken, and he brushed away the raven hair that hid her face. “Abby?”
“I was wrong,” she whispered.
He wrapped his arms around her, his hands sliding over her back as he began to move gently inside her again. “Wrong about what?” He could barely get the question out.
She moaned deep in her throat as her body began to match his rhythm. “I thought the books lied, that it could never be as wonderful as they made it sound. But it’s better.” Her breath caught as he pushed her into a sitting position, lifted her, and then buried his whole length inside her. “Oh,” she gasped. “Oh, Tate. It’s happening again. Don’t stop. Oh, please, never stop.”
She had nothing to worry about. Tate couldn’t have stopped if his life depended on it. He lost count of the times they made love as the afternoon wore on and each time only seemed to increase his hunger. Even now, as he watched her dress, he was still as hard, still as erect as he had been the first time.
Abby didn’t seem to find anything unusual in his condition, but then, she probably thought it was the normal state of affairs. He grinned at the thought. At the rate he was going, she might be right. The only reason he’d let her up now was because Buddy would be home soon.
But what had really stunned him was the fact that she’d not only kept up with him, she’d been eager to do it. Neither one of them had been able to get enough. Even now she was gazing back down at him longingly. “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, Buddy can go to hell. We’ll just lock the barn doors and stay here forever.”
She smiled as she fastened her jeans then dropped down beside him again, legs crossed. Her gaze was locked on his erection and she reached out tentatively and ran one finger down it.
Tate’s eyes closed in bliss at her touch, his hips moving involuntarily as her hand closed around him. And because he had his eyes closed, he didn’t know what she was going to do until it was too late. With no warning at all, he felt her lips touch him in a soft kiss. He almost climaxed on the spot. “Abby!” His eyes flew open as he reached for her, but she was gone, her feet pounding on the wooden floor of the barn as she ran.
A groan of agony escaped him as he reached for his clothes. Oh, yeah. She was gonna kill him. But what a way to go.
* * * * *
Abby stood in the middle of the kitchen trying desperately to remember what she’d planned to fix for supper, but she couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything but what had happened today. Had that really been her out there in the barn with Tate? Had those screams come from her lips? Had she actually kissed his…
Oh, God. She lifted her hands to her blazing cheeks, trying to cool them to no avail. She’d acted wanton, wild beyond anything she could have ever imagined herself doing before. And she wanted to do it again. Longed to feel him inside her even now. Was that what her mother had felt? Could that be the reason her mother had slept with all those men?
What if the people in this town were right about her? Maybe they had seen something in her that she’d denied until today. Abby’s lips trembled. Dear Lord, she’d fought that stigma all her life, but what if she really was like her mother? She wasn’t sure she could bear it if she were.
“Abby?”
She spun to face Tate. She hadn’t heard him come in, but there he was, looking at her with a concerned expression. He took a step closer and put his hands on her shoulders.
“What’s wrong? Please don’t tell me you’re regretting what happened.”
Regretting it? Never in a million years. It had been wonderful. Her body still tingled with echoes of the pleasure he’d given her. “No,” her voice was quiet. “I don’t regret it.”
“Then what is it? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Her chin quivered. “Maybe I have. Oh, Tate, what if I’m like my mother after all? What if I liked…what we did…too much? What if I don’t want to stop?”
He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. “Abby, you could never be like your mother. She didn’t do what she did because she enjoyed it. She did it to survive. It’s not pretty, but sometimes it’s the only choice.” He leaned back a little and smiled down at her. “Are you feeling any urges to start dragging men in off the streets?”
She could feel her cheeks heating again. “No, of course not.” Abby lowered her gaze. “But what we did was so wonderful, you made me feel so wonderful, that…” She paused.
He tilted her chin up so she’d have to look at him. “That what? You’re afraid it has to be wrong to feel that way?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Oh, Abby,” he groaned, pulling her tighter still. “There’s nothing wrong with what you were feeling. It’s perfectly natural, what our bodies were designed for. Enjoying each other is just another way of showing how much—” His words came to an abrupt halt for a second before starting again. “Of caring for each other. Nothing we do to give each other pleasure is wrong or bad and feeling that pleasure doesn’t make you bad either. It makes you normal.” He brushed her hair back and suddenly his voice turned husky. “I’ll tell you something else, Abby. You gave me more pleasure today than I’d ever dreamed was possible. You are absolutely amazing.”
“But there’s so much I don’t know. I don’t know what you like, or even how to touch you.”
Tate laughed. “God help me if you ever do learn it all. I’d never be able to let you out of bed again.” His expression sobered a little. “Just do whatever you feel like doing, Abby, whatever you want to do. Don’t be afraid and don’t hold back. That’s what will make me happy.”
The front door slammed and Buddy’s voice rang through the house. “I’m home! What’s for supper?”
Abby groaned.
Tate put a quick kiss on her lips. “Don’t panic.” He grinned at her. “You throw some potatoes in to bake and I’ll go fire up the grill. We’ll have steaks tonight. I kind of feel like celebrating anyway.”