One Wild Cowboy and A Cowboy To Marry: One Wild Cowboy / A Cowboy to Marry

Yet she was.

“Emily. Emily...” Dylan groaned.

The rush of emotion overwhelmed her. In the feminine heart of her, the tingling started. “Don’t stop.” She caught his face in her hands, looked deep into his eyes and whispered, “Don’t stop.” She celebrated the victory of being together, of leaving constraints behind. Of daring intimacy...and sex...and the possibility that every fantasy she had about him just might come true...

And he seemed enthralled, too. He deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth with his tongue, leaving not a millimeter untouched. Sensation swept through her like a tsunami, followed by a tidal wave of need. It had been so long since she had been held and kissed with anywhere near this conviction. Never mind the pure physical need.

When his hand slipped beneath her blouse and cupped her breast through the lace of her bra, Emily arched her back and trembled with pleasure. She was drowning in the incredible sensations sweeping through her. Wanting more, Emily threaded her hands through his hair and held his head. “Let’s go to bed, Dylan,” she whispered, her breath coming raggedly. “Right now.”

Dylan paused, breathing hard. Clearly he wanted to take their lovemaking to the limit and beyond. He searched her face. “You’re sure?”

“Very.”

His glance dropped to the nipples protruding visibly through her blouse. He flashed her a debilitating sexy grin. His grip tightening possessively, he regarded her with a mock gallantry that kindled her senses. “Well, then, whatever the lady wants...”

He shifted her closer to his chest and carried her, still straddling his waist, through the hall and up the steps. He strode down the hall and lowered her, with surprising gentleness, onto the rumpled covers of his bed. Pausing only long enough to kick off his boots and take off hers, he stretched out next to her.

She flushed hotly as he unbuttoned her blouse, dropping kisses along the curve of her cheek, the slope of her neck, the décolletage of her bra. He looked at her lovingly as he traced the bow shape of her lips with his fingertip.

Then that, too, dropped to her breast.

He found the curve, the tip, the valley in between. Emily shuddered in response. She had never felt more beautiful than she did at that moment, seeing herself reflected in his gaze. “I knew we’d end up together,” he whispered, kissing her again, desire exploding through them in liquid, melting heat.

Then he was on top of her, his weight as welcoming as a blanket on a cold winter’s night, his mouth on hers in a kiss that was shattering in its seductive sensuality. He kissed her as if he were in love with her, and would be for all time. He kissed her as if he had always known they had something special and were meant to be together like this.

Emily had never before felt such deep-seated longing surge through her, driving her toward wild abandon. And these intoxicating emotions proved to be the ultimate aphrodisiac.

Feeling sexier, more adventurous than she had in her entire life, she gave herself over to the experience. Moaning softly as Dylan unclasped her bra and explored the tenderness of her skin. She arched in ecstasy with each caress of hand and lips and tongue. Then she unbuttoned his shirt and discovered the hard masculine contours of his chest. Lower still, she unzipped his jeans, releasing the burgeoning proof of his desire.

He was hot and hard all over. All warm satin skin and coarse wheat-blond hair. Determined to prove to him that she was as exciting and fiercely independent as he was, she held his eyes with the promise of the hot, languid lovemaking to come....

* * *

DYLAN HADN’T MEANT for any of this to happen.

He had expected to spend time with her. Maybe put on a little show of public ardor once or twice, do whatever it was she felt “couples” did together, until the facade ended.

But that was before he had watched her dare damn near everything and luxuriated in the soft, silky feel of her. Or looked into the turbulent sea-blue of her eyes and kissed her hard and soft and every way in between.

“You’ve got to promise me something,” he whispered, as he took her to the very edge of the bed. The need to make her his was stronger than ever. “No heartache. No regrets...”

“Just pleasure,” she whispered back, “in the here and now.”

And those vows were all it took, Dylan noted, to get her on the same track as he. She moaned against him, kissing him ardently. Even as she surrendered, she took. Even as he gave, he found.

Determined to set the pace, he parted her legs and slipped between her thighs. Holding her close, he pushed inside her, timing his movements as she wrapped her limbs around him and lifted her body to his.

His hands caught her hips as she pulled him deeper still. Their eyes locked and a mixture of tenderness and primal possessiveness filled his soul. He knew it was just friendship and sex, but it felt like more. Although he knew it would end, it felt like it never would. And then there was no more prolonging the inevitable. Trembling, they succumbed to the swirling, enviable pleasure.

* * *

EMILY LAY CUDDLED in Dylan’s strong arms for long moments afterward, still hardly able to believe what had happened. It was just sex. They’d both been very clear about that. Yet...the magic of his tender, amazing lovemaking left her feeling that Dylan intuitively understood what she wanted and needed in a way no one else ever had, or would. And that left her feeling oddly weak and susceptible.

Odds were, vulnerable was not what Dylan wanted to see from her. Hence, this was her chance to prove how detached she could be, too. Adopting a studied, casual look, she extricated herself from his warm embrace, rose and began to dress.

As always, Dylan saw way more than she would have preferred. He lay where he was, arms folded behind his head, seeming to intuit her emotions were in turmoil, even though his expression was inscrutable, too. “What are you thinking?” he asked finally, his voice as casual as her demeanor.

Searching for a decidedly flip remark, Emily shrugged. “The obvious.” She flashed a flirtatious grin. “That you’re not just a horse whisperer. You’re a woman whisperer, too.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners, her backhanded compliment only partially satisfying him. He regarded her with rueful contemplation, something hot and sensual shimmering in his eyes. “This is going to be a problem, isn’t it?”

His husky voice sent shivers down her spine.

Emily glanced down and realized she had buttoned her shirt incorrectly. Dismayed by the evidence of her disquiet, she opened the fastenings and started all over again. “I don’t know what you mean.” Her fingers trembled as much as her voice.

He threw back the covers and walked toward her in all his naked glory. “You’re not the kind of woman who can get involved with someone or have an affair without asking them to commit to something for a lot longer term—and to change into what you need them to be.”

Emily sent him the kind of offhand glance meant to presage a quick and uncomplicated exit. She moved away. “That’s not true.”

“I think it is.” He sauntered closer, studying the turbulent emotion in her eyes. “I think you’re waiting for some guy to come in and let you change him as much as you want, without demanding anything of you in return. And the two of you will marry and live happily ever after.”

Emily kept her eyes above the waist. “I don’t think that way!”

He shook his head. “The look on your face just now says otherwise.”

More attracted to him than ever, Emily wiggled into her jeans. “I admit, I’ve never had an out-and-out fling before.”

Dylan pulled on his clothes and boots. He gave her the same look her parents gave her when they thought she needed to delve deeper into the workings of her heart. “How many boyfriends have you had?”

Emily picked up his brush and ran it through her hair. “Casual?” Meaning the kind she left with a kiss, at the door? “Tons.”

He frowned. “Serious.”

Emily sighed. “Two. One in college. One about four years ago.”

Dylan took her hand and led her toward the hall. “What happened?”

Emily followed him down the stairs. “The first one felt it was his duty as my significant other to try and control me.”

Dylan let go of her hand as they wandered into the kitchen. “I bet that went over well.”

“You can only imagine,” Emily admitted drily.

He looked in the fridge. “And the second?”

Emily lounged against the counter, observing the enticing play of muscles in his chest and shoulders beneath his shirt. Within her, desire started all over again.

Forcing herself to keep her mind on the conversation, she replied, “He couldn’t get along with my family.”