Page 36 of Cowboy’s Last Stand (His to Protect #1)

His kisses turned deep and ravenous. He buried a hand in her hair, making animal noises as she writhed on him.

She wasn’t content to press her body against his shyly.

She slid her aching sex back and forth along his erection.

He gave up on restraint and cupped her wiggling bottom, his hips thrusting as if he couldn’t help himself.

Then his hands found her breasts. He kneaded the soft flesh, his thumbs sweeping over her pouty nipples.

She felt like she might fly apart, just from this.

He broke contact with her mouth and moved his lips to her throat.

She arched her spine as he kissed his way down her torso.

Her hands returned to his hair, clutching at him in encouragement.

Yes. Please. More.

He licked the throbbing pulse in her neck and the hollow at the base of her throat.

His callused fingertips shoved the silky straps off her shoulders to expose her breasts.

Warmth from the fire caressed her back. He just stared for a moment as if transfixed by the sight of her.

When his tongue swirled around one taut nipple, she let out a ragged moan.

God. She moved on top of him in increasingly desperate motions. He sucked her nipples like they were candy, his palms spread wide over her bottom. She was going to climax before he even got her pants off.

“Jason,” she pleaded.

His response was low and incoherent.

“Jason,” she said again.

With a strangled growl, he lifted her from the couch and carried her toward the mattress. He lay her down on her back, removed her leggings and panties in a swift yank, and asked, “Is this what you want?”

“Yes.”

Watching her face, he slid his hand between her thighs.

Pleasure drizzled through her as he parted her slick folds.

When he slid one finger inside, she inhaled sharply.

He held himself very still as her body sheathed his finger.

She was extremely wet. She dug her nails into his shoulders, her legs quivering with desire.

“I think we can skip foreplay,” she said.

His nostrils flared at the suggestion. “Why?”

“I’m ready.”

He knew this, of course. Her slippery heat grasped his finger. “We can’t skip foreplay,” he said in a low rasp. “The main event might only last thirty seconds.”

She chuckled at this concern, but the sound turned into a gasp of pleasure.

After he plunged his finger deep, making her shudder, he withdrew to stroke the swollen bud at the top of her sex.

She gripped his wrist, trembling as he circled and teased.

He had a deft touch, unsurprisingly. He alternated between dipping his fingers into her sultry sex and sliding them over her swollen clitoris.

When she was near the edge of climax, he stopped touching her and eased away.

She gaped at him in frustration as he finally shrugged out of his flannel shirt.

His chest, dazzling as always, rippled with muscle in the firelight.

Her camisole was still bunched around her waist. She pulled the garment over her head, impatient to get on with it.

He had that smug look again, like he knew how eager she was to have him inside her. His mouth moved down her restless, overheated body. He kissed her quivering belly, her hipbones, and lower.

Apparently, he wasn’t going to skip anything.

She should have known. A man as thorough and hardworking as Jason Reed wouldn’t make love to a woman without proper preparations.

His palms flattened on her inner thighs, spreading them wide.

She was too aroused to feel embarrassed as he studied her exposed flesh.

She certainly wasn’t going to tell him no after he’d stimulated her to a fever pitch.

When his tongue touched her aching center, she lost all inhibitions and surrendered completely to him.

He was even better with his mouth than his hands.

He kissed and sucked at her expertly. Within moments, she was crying out loud, shattering into a million pieces.

He didn’t wait until she’d recovered from her orgasm to position himself over her.

Rolling a condom down his length, he fit the blunt tip against her throbbing sex.

She got the impression that he wanted to take her hard and fast, but he didn’t.

He pushed into her with caution, gritting his teeth.

Despite her abundant wetness, he was a large man, and her body didn’t accept him easily.

His shoulders quaked from the effort of holding himself in check.

When he slid deeper, they both groaned at the sensation.

He filled her deliciously. She trembled in his arms, lifting her lips to his neck.

Slowly, with great care, he started to move on top of her.

Even now, he didn’t rush to the finish. He watched her face again, then her breasts, as he thrust inside her.

She wrapped her arms and legs around him, moaning helplessly.

He braced above her, rock-steady, and tortured them both with an agonizing pace.

It was so good she almost wept. She’d missed the feel of a man’s weight on her, his hard body pressing down on hers.

Jason proved as adept at the main event as everything else.

Instead of thrusting mindlessly toward his own pleasure, he took care of her again.

He slid his hand between them to touch the place where their bodies were joined.

His mouth found hers, kissing hotly as he stroked her.

She kissed him back with passionate fervor.

His thumb swept over her most sensitive spot in a perfect rhythm, dragging her toward another climax.

When she flew over the edge a second time, his control broke.

Gripping her hips, he pounded into her with powerful strokes.

Pleasure continued to crest over her in waves that wouldn’t diminish.

Maybe it was the months she’d spent alone and untouched.

Maybe it was their amazing physical chemistry or his natural skill in the bedroom.

He was dexterous, industrious, and built to satisfy a woman.

Whatever the reason, she rocketed into a third, incredible orgasm.

She dug her fingernails into his shoulders and cried out his name. He surged and heaved against her as he found his own release.

While she lay there with her eyes closed, out of breath, and stunned into a stupor, he rose to his feet.

Over the pound of her heartbeat, she could hear water running in the bathroom.

He came back and settled in beside her. She snuggled against his chest, drowsy with satiation. Little by little, reality returned.

Actually, it intruded .

Because fantastic sex was just fantastic sex.

It wasn’t a panacea. It hadn’t solved any of the problems they’d argued about last night.

It certainly hadn’t cured Jason’s sleeping issues.

While her body felt boneless, wrung out from pleasure, his muscles were tense.

She remembered his strange reaction to being awoken earlier and his ongoing trouble with nightmares.

He wouldn’t let himself fall asleep next to her.

“Are you always this good?” she murmured.

“Yes.”

She smiled at his lack of modesty and gave his arm a teasing punch.

Sex had never been this earth-shattering for her, not even with Mike.

Her amusement faded at the thought. The comparison felt wrong and unfair, like a betrayal to her husband’s memory.

She swallowed hard, wondering if letting Jason touch her had been a mistake.

She hadn’t expected it to be so… transformative.

“Don’t do that,” Jason said.

“Do what?”

“Regret a single moment of what we did.”

Her stomach clenched with unease. He’d hit the bullseye, but she didn’t want to talk about her feelings. She needed to be alone for a while to consider the repercussions of her actions. Wrapping a blanket around her naked body, she rose to her feet. “I should go. Marcus might wake up.”

Jason tucked his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling, not arguing. A muscle in his jaw flexed.

Tears rushed into her eyes as she searched for her clothes. She didn’t know why she was so upset. The same thing had happened with Wade. She’d been sick with grief and guilt before he’d even left her bed.

“Did you get a settlement?” Jason asked out of the blue.

She tugged on her sweatshirt. “What?”

“When a soldier dies in combat, the surviving family members get a lump sum. They call it a death gratuity.”

Natalie was familiar with the harsh term. Hearing it killed the last of her post-orgasmic bliss. Suddenly, the room felt cold, and her hands were shaking. She couldn’t find her panties. “That’s none of your business.”

“You’re living like a pauper.”

“I’m getting by just fine.”

“I don’t think so,” he said with an infuriating calmness. “I think you have money in the bank that you won’t spend for emotional reasons. You’re choosing to work nights at a dive bar when you could stay home with Marcus.”

Her mouth dropped open. There was one line he couldn’t cross, no matter what, and he’d waltzed right over it. “How dare you criticize my parenting? You can’t even function as a normal human being.”

He sat up on the mattress, his face taut in the firelight. “I’m not criticizing. I’m asking about your finances because I care about you.”

Natalie lifted her chin. “You’re meddling in my personal business because you want me to forget about my husband and move on. But I won’t do that. I will never forget Mike. He was the love of my life.”

“No, he wasn’t.”

Jason’s implication that he was the love of her life, not Mike, terrified her.

He was pushing too hard. This was too much, too soon.

She’d surrendered her body, and now he wanted her heart.

She couldn’t risk it. What kind of fool would fall for a man who had no set plans for the future?

Panic rising, she searched for the right words to make him back off. “This was a mistake.”

“Too hot for you?”

“I’m not ready to move on.”

“You were ready twenty minutes ago. More than ready.”

A flush rose to her cheeks at the memory.

She couldn’t meet his eyes any longer, so she focused on getting dressed.

She grabbed her leggings and put them on.

He stood up and donned his own shirt in swift motions.

As she brushed by him, he grasped her upper arm to prevent her from leaving the apartment.

He spoke in a softer tone. “I know it hasn’t been easy for you since Mike died. I understand why you’re afraid.”

“You don’t understand anything.”

“You’re too young to stop living, Natalie. He’s not coming back, and you can’t climb in the grave with him.”

She yanked her arm free. “You are such a hypocrite! You haven’t dealt with your own problems, but you want to tell me how to handle mine? Walking away isn’t the same as moving on, Jason. Talk to me about healthy choices when you’ve stayed in the same place for a month. Or slept in a real bed.”

His mouth thinned with displeasure. He didn’t respond to her criticism. Nor did he try to detain her again.

She left him standing there and fled into the cool night.

Tears flooded her eyes as she made her way down the stairs.

Drizzle soaked her head, adding insult to injury.

She trudged into the house, kicked off her slippers, and approached the hutch where Mike’s photo was displayed.

Wiping her cheeks, she studied the man in uniform.

He looked so young, it made her heart ache.

He’d been Gabe’s age when he enlisted, barely twenty.

They’d started dating when she was nineteen, and they’d gotten married when she was twenty-one.

She’d had boyfriends before Mike, but he was the only man she’d ever loved.

The two-year anniversary of his death was coming up soon.

It pained her to consider these dates and to put them in the perspective of a lifetime. She hated Jason for suggesting that she’d mourned long enough. Mike was a war hero. He’d been a wonderful father to Marcus. He deserved to be honored and remembered.

Her face crumpled with emotion.

Picking up the picture frame, she hugged it to her chest. Tears flowed in earnest as she curled up on the couch with her feelings.

She wasn’t sure she could resist Jason again.

He hadn’t even seduced her tonight; she’d gone to him.

Despite her guilt, she didn’t regret it.

Their arguments hadn’t stopped her from wanting him.

He was a passionate man who challenged her in interesting ways.

He was right about one thing: she was afraid. Afraid of losing her independence, her tranquility, her sense of self. Being a grieving widow had become her identity. It was like a comforting blanket she couldn’t let go of.

If she gave herself fully to Jason and it didn’t work out, what would she have left?

Nothing. She’d have nothing. Mike’s death had left a wound inside her that would never completely heal.

She couldn’t endure another devastating loss.

The safest option would be to send Jason away before he could do any more damage.

And yet, the thought of breaking things off with him—of never letting him touch her again—made her cry harder. Panic twisted through her, making her breath catch as she realized it was too late to prevent another heartbreak.

She’d already fallen in love with him.