The Texas Rancher's Vow. Cathy Gillen Thacker

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The Texas Rancher's Vow - Cathy Gillen Thacker Mills & Boon American Romance

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was, she soon discovered, infinitely comfortable. Especially with Matt stretched out beside her.

      Pausing only long enough to roll on a condom, he steadied her, hands on her hips. “Still time to turn back,” he said, his voice rough with desire.

      Her own passion ready to explode, Jen shook her head. She would die if he didn’t fill her soon. “No way.”

      “Then let’s get you good to go.” He slid down to the apex of her thighs, held her open, kissing and ravishing, until she was shuddering and gasping for air.

      Jen clutched at him. “Now, Matt. Now…”

      She felt his smile against her thigh. He moved upward. “My pleasure.”

      Being filled by him was like nothing she’d ever felt before. Jen opened herself up to him as he began to move in exactly the right rhythm to send her soaring. Emboldened by her pleasure, he thrust hard again, finding his own shattering release.

      He kissed her through the climax, through the aftermath, and even after that. Jen had never had anyone want her once the passion had faded. It was a delicious sensation, sweet and satisfying, the tenderness between them a palpable thing. Which was why, she knew, she had to get out of there.

      Fast.

      * * *

      MATT KNEW IT WAS TOO MUCH, too soon. He’d hooked up with Jen, anyway. And not for the strictly physical reasons she might suspect. He hadn’t led her down here to seduce her into bed. He had come back down here to get away from her, from the closeness that threatened every time they were alone together.

      And even when they weren’t.

      She had a way of looking at him, of understanding what was going on with him even when he didn’t say a word.

      He wasn’t used to feeling understood—by anyone.

      Up until now, it hadn’t bothered him. Life was just easier that way. When he could keep everyone at arm’s length.

      The last place he wanted Jen was at arm’s length.

      Yet there she was, just minutes after they had both climaxed—out of his arms, out of his bed. Sheet draped modestly around her, she was gathering up her clothes, one by one. As if he hadn’t already committed every inch of her sweet, luscious body to memory. And, he was willing to bet, she was equally familiar with his. Not that there wasn’t room for improvement. They still had much to explore in the lovemaking department. In fact, he was already getting hard. “You really don’t have to rush out. No one else is here, nor likely to be.”

      Jen managed to wiggle into her rose-colored bikini panties without dropping the sheet.

      Unable to do the same with her bra, she dropped the sheet, turned her back to him and sat down on the bench at the foot of his bed. Head bent, she fastened the clasp of her bra in front of her, then twisted the lacy white fabric around and pulled it up over the globes of her breasts. Over her slender shoulders.

      The straps fell into place with a snap.

      Jen’s chest rose and fell as she drew in a bolstering breath. “That’s not really the point, Matt.”

      She turned to face him yet again, her nipples poking through the lace, belying the casual disregard of her words, whether she wanted them to or not.

      Aware that his nipples were still erect, too, Matt folded his arms behind his head and lay back against the pillows, watching her. Wanting her.

      Wondering if she had any idea how completely desirable he found her. Or how much he wanted to repeat their mind-blowing sex.

      “Then what is the point?” he asked softly, irritated that she felt it necessary to lie to him about what she was really feeling.

      Color flooding her cheeks, she pulled her tank top over her head.

      She looked even sexier clad in just panties, bra and tank, her long silky legs and dainty feet planted defiantly apart.

      Jen snatched her jeans off the floor and tugged them up over her knees.

      The stone-colored fabric, worn and soft, pulled taut across her flat tummy. The waistband rested just above the line of her panties, revealing her sexy belly button. And cupping her sleek thighs and delectably round butt in a way that drove him crazy.

      He sighed in disappointment as she tugged the hem of her tank down over her hips, cutting off his view of bare, silky skin.

      A mixture of exasperation and defiance gleamed in her eyes. “You want honesty?”

      Matt lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Nothing but.” He was certain, one wrong word from him and he’d never have the chance to lure her into his bed again.

      Jen came close enough to perch on the foot of the mattress. Still safely out of reach, she gave him a level look. “I meant what I said to you earlier. I accept that I’m done with roller-coaster romance and dreams of happily ever after. I know it’s never going to happen to me. I don’t expect it…and I don’t want it.”

      “Then what do you want?”

      She bent over to tug on her socks and boots. “To just take life as it comes. One day at a time. I don’t want this…hookup…to have any repercussions.”

      “It won’t.”

      Jen shot him a skeptical look. “I don’t want to think about it or talk about it or expect that it will happen again. Because…” she leaned against the wall, arms folded decisively in front of her “…it’s not going to, Matt.”

      He couldn’t say he was surprised she was backing off, since she was no more inclined to let someone in than he was.

      That didn’t mean they couldn’t react differently now. Especially when the chemistry was this good. “Why not?” He rose from the bed and began to dress, too. She caught his eye and went still.

      He tracked the lift of her breasts as she held her breath. “It was good. “

      “Very good,” she confirmed, jerking her gaze away. “And that’s where I want to leave it.”

      * * *

      “DID YOU GET EVERYTHING you needed?” Celia asked, via phone, later in the day.

      Jen looked around the studio with satisfaction. Flexible wire, sculpting tools and measuring tape were laid out next to containers of clay. She had scanned into her laptop the pictures she was going to use as her models. Special software had converted those images into three dimensional models, complete with precise measurements, that she could translate to whatever scale she wanted. Jen still wanted to blow up those same photos to poster size so she could have them set up all around her, for further inspiration while she worked. But that, she figured, could wait until the following day.

      Right now, she wanted to keep working on the sketches of the first proposed sculpture.

      “Yes. I unpacked and set up this afternoon.” Jen sighed. After my colossal mistake.

      “How

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