A Real Cowboy Never Walks Away (Wyoming Rebels Book 4) Page 4

  She wanted more. Her entire soul burned for it...but how could she ask? How could she stand there and explain what she needed from him? She'd sound like an idiot...and maybe she was. But also, maybe it was okay. Travis looked at her like she mattered, like he saw all her flaws and didn't care. Maybe, just maybe, it would be okay...

  After a moment, a long, agonizing moment, she raised her arms, a silent invitation not for a kiss, but for a hug.

  A smile flashed across his weary face, and he stepped forward immediately, sweeping her up in a massive hug. His strong arms locked her against his hard, lean body, and she closed her eyes, pressing her face against his chest. He kissed the top of her head, and then rested his cheek against her hair, holding her tightly. She locked her arms around his neck, afraid to let go, afraid to lose this moment. His now-familiar scent wrapped around her, a faint but amazing scent of an aftershave he'd put on hours ago.

  He tightened his arms around her, crushing her against his body. Her breasts were flattened against his chest, and her belly was tight against his stomach. He was pure muscle and hardness, but at the same time, he was warm, safe, and decadently tempting.

  "I don't want to let go," she whispered, so quietly she hoped he hadn't heard her.

  But his arms tightened. "Me either." He pressed another kiss to her hair. "Why is that?"

  "I don't know." She tucked her face tighter against his chest, trying to get even closer, needing to get even closer.

  He slid his hands along her back, palming the space between her shoulder blade, and the small of her back, keeping her tight against him as he rubbed her back.

  She shivered. "That gives me chills," she whispered. "It feels amazing."

  "Good." He kissed the tip of her ear, and she buried her face even more deeply against his chest, afraid to lift her head, afraid to let him see how much she needed this.

  She hadn't realized she needed to be held. She'd had no idea how starved she was for the touch of a man. She'd had no understanding of how deeply alone she held herself...until this moment, when she felt the tears falling from her soul from his embrace. It wasn't about sex. It wasn't about kissing. It was more than that. So much more.

  Travis groaned softly, shifting his arms to drag her even more tightly against him. His hands continued to slide across her back, awakening nerve endings that had been dormant for so long. He cupped her hips, his fingers resting on the swell of her bottom, making heat pool low in her belly.

  Her heart began to race again, and she held her breath as he brushed his lips along her collarbone, so lightly she could barely feel it. "Wow." The word slipped out unbidden, and Travis chuckled, a deep, warm sound that seemed to reverberate through her entire body.

  "You like that?" He did it again, and chills raced down her arms, down her spine, and along her legs.

  "Yes." She didn't lift her head from his chest, not wanting to ruin this moment by having him kiss her. If he kissed her, it would change his arms from a safe, tempting haven, to something bold, dangerous, and terrifying, something she couldn't handle.

  His fingers tunneled through her hair, a gesture so intimate and sensual that tears suddenly sprang to her eyes. Was she really so lonely that a simple touch could make her cry? Was that really the life she'd carved out for herself? She kept herself so busy that she never thought about being held or being loved by a man. She didn't miss it, and she didn't care...until now. Until Travis had made her remember what it felt like to be held so intimately.

  His lips brushed against her ear, his breath warm. "I want to kiss you." His voice was low, his words searing through her.

  She stiffened, panic closing her throat.

  He swore under his breath, and his hands stilled their exploration. "Sorry. I'm an ass. That was uncool—"

  "Okay." The whisper barely made it past her lips, past her panic, past her fear. She was terrified of being kissed, but the longing that Travis had awakened in her was so much stronger than her fear.

  She didn't want to be afraid.

  She wanted to live, just for this brief moment.

  Travis tensed, and for a split second, she was filled with a horror that maybe he hadn't meant it literally, that he didn't want to actually kiss her.

  Then his fingers tightened in her hair, and he pulled back just enough so she could see his face. His blue eyes were searing in intensity, blazing with emotion she couldn't begin to identify. For a long, agonizing moment, he simply stared at her, and then he bent his head, and she knew he was going to kiss her.

  Chapter 5

  The moment his lips touched Lissa's, Travis knew he was lost to her. Forever.

  Her lips were softer than anything he could have imagined. Her kiss was so tentative that he wanted to wrap her up in a protective shield forever. He kissed her lightly, careful not to scare her. A tiny nibble of her lower lip. A light brush of his tongue across the corner of her mouth. Need roared through him, not to consume her, but to protect her, to cherish her, to offer her a kiss that would shine light into her world, not darkness.

  No woman had ever brought out his protective nature before, at least not in this way. Yeah, he'd come to the aid of Chase's wife when she'd been in trouble, and he'd been ready to do whatever it took to keep her safe, but that was different. That had been protecting an innocent against a bully, against a piece of shit as bad as his own father had been.

  Lissa had awakened in him something more intimate and personal, something quieter. He didn't want to beat his chest and fight to keep her safe. He wanted to be gentle, to cradle her spirit in his hands, to take away her fear of his kiss.

  Her hands were loosely linked around his neck, not holding tight, almost as if she were trying to keep a distance from him. Denial roared through him, a need to break down the walls she was trying to keep between them. He needed to reach her, to feel her, to connect with her.

  Keeping his hand in her hair, he deepened the kiss, asking for her to part her lips as he locked his arm around her waist and pulled her tighter against him. For a split second, she stiffened, but just as he started to loosen his arm, she melted into him. Her body went soft and pliable, her arms tightened around his neck, and she began to kiss him back.

  Heat poured through him, a primal, unexpected need that was no longer quite so gentle. He angled his head, stunned by the feel of her mouth under his. Her tongue met his in a sensual dance of exploration and invitation, her kisses quickly matching his own desperation.

  With a low groan, he backed her against the counter, then grabbed her hips and lifted her onto the stainless steel surface. She locked her legs around his hips, drawing him into the junction of her thighs. He bit her lip lightly, tugging on it as he slid his hands under her tee shirt, palming the decadently soft skin of her lower back. He felt the goosebumps on her skin, and triumph poured through him at the realization that she was as affected as he was. "Lissa." He whispered the name against her lips as he slid his hands along her back, under her bra strap, to her shoulders. He cupped her shoulder blades, then began to kiss his way along her jaw.

  She let out a small noise of desire that went right to his cock. She leaned back, letting him support her as she tipped her head back for him. He kissed along her neck, tracing circles with his tongue. He shifted his grip so he was fully supporting her with his right arm, and then he hooked his left index finger over the neck of her tee shirt and pulled it down. He continued his kisses, moving lower and lower, until he reached the swell of her breast.

  She gripped his shoulders, sucking in her breath as he traced circles with his tongue, lower and lower, until he reached the edge of her bra. Beige and sensible, without any lace...and it was sexy as hell. Better than the black lace that women threw at him, because Lissa's bra told him what he already knew, that she wasn't a temptress trying to seduce him. It was the bra of a woman who'd had absolutely no plans for a man to see her bra tonight, of a woman who was too consumed with regular life to worry about how to snag a man. He caught the edge of it with h
is finger and slid it down, kissing his way across her breast, to her nipple.

  He bit lightly, and she gasped, jerking in his arms. Her responsiveness was beyond sexy, and he swept his tongue around her nipple, biting, licking, kissing, playing, cataloguing her every reaction, figuring out what she liked, what she loved.

  She started to tremble, and he realized suddenly that she was close to the edge. From the simple act of his kissing her nipple? He wanted to take her over that edge. He wanted to give her that release. With a low growl, he upped his attentions to her breast, and slid his free hand beneath her shirt, tracing circles along her ribs.

  "God, Travis," she whispered, her fingers tightening on his shoulders. "That feels amazing—" She cut herself off with a gasp as he slid his hand beneath her bra and lightly pinched her other nipple.

  He kept up the assault, listening to every tell of her body, keeping her tight against him as he brought her to the edge... She yelped suddenly, and grabbed him, her body convulsing against him. He immediately raised his head to kiss her on the mouth, swallowing her tiny cries of ecstasy as the tremors shook her. He held her tight, kissing her until the last one faded, until she sagged against him, her head resting on his shoulder. "Wow," she whispered.

  Travis grinned. He wasn't going to lie. He felt like a freaking hero right now. Not just because he'd given her an orgasm without even going below her ribcage, but because it was Lissa. "Good, huh?"

  She sighed, sliding her arms around his waist, nestling her face into the curve of his neck. "Do you realize how long it's been?"

  "Tell me." He ran his fingers along her spine, feeling more content than he'd felt in a long time. Maybe ever.

  "Almost nine years."

  His hand stilled. "Nine years since a guy gave you an orgasm?"

  "Mmmhmm." She sighed again.

  Nine years. How was that possible? Lissa was sexy as hell, funny, warm, outgoing, and pure temptation. "Has it been that long because none of the guys you've been with have any skills in the bedroom?" Stupid question. With her responsiveness, the guy would have to be a complete moron not to be able to figure out how to connect with her. So, that meant... "Or has it been nine years because there's been no one?"

  She stiffened slightly. Not much, but he was so attuned to her that he noticed. "It's been my choice," she said stiffly.

  His heart turned over for her. "Sweetheart, you don't need to convince me of your appeal. You had me the moment you walked in from the kitchen and smiled at me." He pressed a kiss to her hair.

  "Sweetheart?" She pulled back, searching his face. "Don't do that, Travis. I know I'm not your sweetheart."

  Her sudden tension made alarm rush through him. He didn't want to lose this moment. "Lissa," he said carefully, "I'm not playing you. There's a connection between us that is about more than one orgasm. We both know it. The endearment slipped out because I meant it—"

  "No." She shook her head. "I can't get involved with you, or anyone, Travis. I didn't mean—"

  "Hey." He put his finger over her lips, scowling as the familiar darkness settled down around him again, as the truth gripped him. This moment with Lissa wasn't reality. It was a brief oasis, a mirage that would vanish the moment he walked out. "Please don't," he said. "I needed tonight as much as you did. Don't push it away. I have to leave here in a few minutes, and all we're going to have is the memory of it." He couldn't keep the desperation out of his voice. "Let it be what it is. When I called you sweetheart, I meant it. It wasn't a fake endearment, it was just..." Hell, what was it? "It was just right."

  "But—" Her protest faded as she searched his face. Something in his expression made her stop, and she stared at him. Finally, she nodded. "Okay," she whispered.

  Relief rushed through him, "Okay."

  She sighed. "But I meant it when I said I don't date. I can't afford to, on so many different levels. I don't want to get involved with anyone. So, this—" She ran her hand over his chest. "This was a beautiful moment." She smiled at him, a smile so tender that his heart turned over. "I needed your touch tonight," she said. "The same way you needed mine. For tonight, our lives intersected, and we helped each other, right?"

  He nodded, a mixture of relief and resistance twisting through him. He couldn't get involved either, but at the same time, he didn't want to let go of this moment, of her, of how he felt when he was with her. But he had no choice. He wasn't the guy he'd been tonight. He wasn't someone who could hunker down in Rogue Valley with a café owner. He was incapable of trusting a woman, of becoming emotionally intimate with anyone, of putting himself out there the way she deserved. Plus, he had seventy more tour stops left before the end of the year. He wasn't the guy who could make a home with a woman like Lissa, on any level.

  This was as close as he'd ever get to what his brothers had found. It would have to be enough, because the night was over. The moment...over. He took a deep breath. "I guess I should go, then."

  Regret flickered over her face, but she nodded. "One more hug?"

  "You bet." He pulled her against him, and she came willingly, burying herself in his arms again. He held her tight, tighter than he intended, but the darkness was already starting to descend again, knowing that he had to walk out of there, and back to his life. His life...hell... What would she think when she realized who he was? Would she think he'd played her?

  He swore and pulled back, framing her face with his hands. "Lissa, tonight mattered to me. I want you to know that."

  She smiled, reaching up to trace her fingers along his jaw, her fingertips sliding over his whiskers. "I know it did. I felt it. The connection was real."

  He put his hand over hers. "Another place, another lifetime."

  She sighed. "Maybe this place and this lifetime is what made it magical."

  "Maybe." He leaned forward and kissed her again, lightly. "Thank you," he whispered. "I'll never forget tonight. Not just the kiss. The burgers. Howling like a dog you don't own. The pie. Sweating over a hot grill. And...you. All of it."

  She nodded. "Back at ya, big guy."

  He kissed the top of her head, then forced himself to step back. "I need to let you get some sleep." He grabbed his hat and coat off the hook. "If I don't leave, I'm never going to."

  Longing flickered in her eyes, but so did fear. "Then you better go."

  "Yeah." He set his hat on his head, hesitating, unsure what he wanted to say. "Lissa—"

  "You need to go," she said softly. "It can't be more than this, and it doesn't need to be. It was perfection exactly how it was."

  He grinned, but the smile didn't reach his heart. Now that he was leaving, the familiar vise was settling around his chest again. "It was perfect," he agreed. He tipped his hat to her. "If you ever need anything—"

  "I'll be fine." She slid off the counter, her sneakers almost silent as she landed. "Bye, Travis."

  Bye? How trivial and shallow that felt, given what had happened tonight. But what else was there to say? "Yeah, so..." He suddenly reached out, snagged her wrist, and pulled her toward him. She fell into him as he kissed her, a deep, demanding kiss that poured heat through him.

  Lissa sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck, her body pressed into him, kissing him just as fiercely as he was kissing her. Unlike their earlier kiss, there was a desperation to this one, as if they were both fighting to make the most of it, to burn it into their psyches so they could recall it at will when the bleak reality of their lives rained down on them.

  His cock rose fast and hard, and primal lust seared through him. He wanted to make her his, to carve a place in his soul for her so he would always have a piece of her with him, no matter how much darkness was haunting him. He tunneled his fingers in her hair, angling her head as he deepened the kiss. Their tongues met with frantic desperation, their bodies so tight against each other that heat seamed to burn through his clothes.

  He wanted more of her. He wanted to touch each part of her body, to find out what she liked, what put her over the edge. He wante
d to be intimate with her on every level possible, physically, sexually, emotionally, spiritually. He wanted to write a song for her, a song that would immortalize this moment, this—

  He stopped suddenly, shocked by his thoughts. He wanted to write a song for her? He hadn't wanted to write a song in years.

  Lissa pulled back, searching his face. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing." He grinned and smoothed her hair back from her face. "You touch my soul in a way nothing else has in a very long time. It feels good."

  She smiled. "I know what you mean."

  He kissed her again, lightly this time, before he pulled back. "If I keep kissing you, I'm going to throw you over my shoulder, cart you upstairs, and ravage you until we both die of exhaustion, so I gotta stop."

  Her cheeks turned pink, and she rested her hands on his chest. "That almost sounds like a good way to go."

  "Almost? Hell, woman, it's the only way to go." Unable to resist, he kissed her again, this time a long, sensual kiss that promised an endless night of seduction, the kind of night he'd never had, but suddenly wanted.

  Lissa's fingers curved into his shirt, gripping the soft cotton, as she kissed him back. He didn't dare move his hands from her hair, knowing that his control was already at the farthest edge. As much as he wanted to rip her clothes off, he didn't want the night to be cheapened by a one-night stand.

  He wanted the night to be exactly as it was, held on the peak of what could have been, so that both of them could live in the magic of it forever.

  After an eternity of kissing, he finally pulled back. He rested his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily. "I don't want to leave," he whispered.

  "I want this moment to last forever," she said softly, her fingers still tangled in his shirt. "Exactly like this."

  "I know. Me, too."

  They fell silent, breathing in the moment, the feel of their bodies against each other, and the magic of their connection. It felt like hours, but was maybe only minutes, before they both stepped back, moving at the same time, as if they both knew that the time had come.