Page 32 of A Cowboy Holiday
“Holy fuck,” I choked out after a minute of gasping for air like a fish out of water.
Axel kissed my cheek and pulled out, then tied the condom and wrapped it in tissue before falling onto the pillow next to me.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the day I met you,” he admitted, staring at the ceiling.
My heart swelled. “Gee, I thought you wanted to punch my lights out for daring to touch one of the dozens of cattle I was about to purchase.”
He scowled. Of course, he did. “That was for your own safety.”
“Mmhmm. We both need some rest. My phone is on, and I texted Josh to let us know when the girls are awake.”
“What time do you think that’ll be?”
“Dunno. Go to sleep, Axel.”
CHAPTER 9
AXEL
Waking up in a strange bed from a fitful sleep was wildly disconcerting. It took a few seconds to put the puzzle pieces together and remember where I was and how I’d gotten there. I smiled at the memory.
And then?—
“Phoebe.”
Tanner stirred beside me, squinting as I sat up to check the time. “She’s in good hands, Axe. They’ll text us.”
“It’s seven o’clock.”
He grabbed his cell from the nightstand, yawning as he scrolled. “Nothing from Josh or Angie. I’ll message them, but I don’t think we need to race over there. Let’s clean up and have a cup of coffee.”
I started to argue, but I didn’t want to pick up my daughter with dried cum on my abs.
We showered together, and though I had no intention of instigating a repeat, one thing led to another…as it sometimes did. Heated kisses, urgent caresses, and horny grinding. When Tanner dropped to his knees, I didn’t stop him. And he didn’t seem to mind a little rough handling. I fucked his mouth and barked for him to stroke himself. He obeyed with the kind ofenthusiasm that made me think Tanner secretly got off on being manhandled in bed…or in the shower.
Afterward, we re-showered, dried off, dressed, and made our way downstairs to feed the dogs and make coffee.
“Still nothing from Josh?” I asked.
Tanner shook his head as he pulled two coffee mugs from the open shelf near the sink in his fancy-as-fuck kitchen. I hadn’t been paying much attention last night. I’d been more concerned about justifying what I wanted—Tanner—with my responsibility to my child. It wasn’t like I’d been celibate for the past five years, but I was always cautious, always on alert.
Needless to say, the homey elegance of Tanner’s home hadn’t registered.
The house wasn’t over the top, but it was nicely appointed. The large great room was decorated in shades of blue and white and boasted high ceilings with a bank of windows overlooking the pasture and the Santa Ynez mountains in the distance. A huge stone fireplace was flanked by a navy sectional sofa and comfy-looking leather reading chairs. Modern paintings provided a splash of color on the walls. It was the sort of art with squiggles and odd lines that could have represented anything from horses and cows to an Italian villa, and had probably cost a damn fortune.
And the kitchen could have been in any home and garden magazine. It was light and airy with a big island and chef-grade appliances. For fuck’s sake, he had two ovens and a cooktop with six burnersanda griddle. And if I wasn’t mistaken, that was a warming drawer next to the under-counter wine refrigerator.
I thanked Tanner for the coffee. “Nice place.”
“Thanks.” He took the stool next to mine and swiveled, resting his bare foot on the bottom rung. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat? Toast, eggs…?”
“I’m okay.” I set a hand on his knee. “This is quite a kitchen. You must like to cook.”
“I do. I don’t always have the time, but I find it relaxing. How about you? Do you cook?”
“Not well, but Phoebe doesn’t complain,” I replied wryly. “She thinks my version of chicken nuggets with bread crumbs are high livin’, and if I add a sprinkle of shredded cheese to her mac n’ cheese, she can’t praise my culinary skills enough.”
Tanner snickered. He hadn’t shaved yet, and for some reason the melodious tone of his laughter and the rugged morning beard made him seem like two different men. It was the twinkle in his eyes that reminded me who this was, what we’d done.