Page 8 of My Match with the Cowboy (Sterling Brothers Ranch #4)

SEVEN

CALDER

T he drive back to the ranch is quiet. I can’t tell if Imogen is sleeping, or dealing with her thoughts on the break-in. Either way, she’s not talking to me.

I’m glad she wasn’t there. I’m fucking happy I picked her up and insisted on taking her out. The thought that this could have happened while she was home alone…

I grit my teeth and kill the engine. From the corner of my eye, I watch her for a moment; the gentle rise and fall of her chest, her features lit up by the front light on the porch.

Dad appears in the doorway, still wearing his day clothes, arms crossed. With a sigh, I quietly slide out of the truck as he meets me at the hood.

“What happened?” he asks, concern darkening his eyes. “Billy called. Told me you reported a break-in?”

I almost roll my eyes. But hey, at least he wasn’t getting a call about something dumb I got caught doing. “Yeah. I was taking Imogen home when we found her place all messed up.”

Dad eyes me before glancing at the truck—and the sleeping nurse within. “Imogen?”

I rub the back of my neck, sighing. “She’s Miss Iris’s nurse. We’re working together on something for Iris.”

My old man presses his lips together in a firm line, like he doesn’t fully believe me. “Your old room is set up. Just in case.”

With that, he turns on his heel and walks into the house. In the doorway, I catch sight of Ma in her robe, but she doesn’t say anything.

Shaking my head, I return to the truck and quietly open Imogen’s door. Her eyes flutter open as I lean across her to unbuckle her seatbelt.

“What’re you doing?” she asks, groaning.

I pull back enough to slide my arm beneath her legs, the other around her back. “Arms around me, trouble. I’m taking you to bed.”

Imogen makes another sound in the back of her throat, but by some miracle, she lets me pick her up out of the truck.

I use the heel of my boot to kick the door shut once she’s out, shifting her in my arms as I do to make sure she’s comfortable.

The warmth of her body is way too comforting, especially when she wraps her arms around my shoulders and presses her face into my neck. All I can do is breathe her in.

For a moment, I taste her kiss on my tongue. Feel her lips against mine. My heart pounds as I carry her up the porch steps towards the house.

Only the kitchen light is on when I enter.

Ma and Dad have gone back to bed, their bedroom at the other end of the house, while my room—and the rooms that once belonged to my siblings—follow a long hallway beyond the family areas.

I make my way down it, careful not to bump family photos or accidentally run Imogen into any corners.

The house is otherwise silent. I feel like holding my breath, but slip into the bedroom that once belonged to me.

It’s vaguely familiar, in the sense that I spent so many years here.

Except the old posters are gone, stored away because Ma has a problem with letting anything go, and most of my personal items are at the bunks.

Now, there’s just the bed, a dresser, my old desk, and a few boxes.

Gently, I lay Imogen down on the bed, careful not to wake her. But as soon as I start to pull away, her eyes open. Our gazes lock, and for a moment, that breathless feeling returns.

Imogen doesn’t release me, her arms still around my neck. I plant my hands either side of her, still wrapped in her comfortable heat. There’s a war playing in her dark eyes, a fight over what she wants to happen next.

I’d never been a man to care. To want more than what he’s got. I’ve been happy just coasting by.

But now that I’ve had a taste of her, I need more.

I don’t want to be in a world that doesn’t have her in it.

And now, I’ll do anything to keep her.

A breath passes her lips, brushing mine. “Make me feel something, cowboy,” she says, desperation darkening her eyes.

I know I upset her when I pulled away from our kiss. But I want to make it up to her. And if that’s by giving her something to feel…

Then who am I to disappoint?

“Are you sure?” I ask, crawling on to the bed to hover above her. “Because if you aren’t, I won’t do anything, trouble. I’ll just stay right beside you.”

She shakes her head, fingers locking at the back of my neck. I shiver at how cold the tips of her fingers are. Just that simple of a touch goes right through me.

“I know that you make me feel safe,” she murmurs. “I know that with you, I feel alive again. But I really need to feel it now, Calder. I want to feel more than just numb. I want to know what it feels like to actually be wanted.”

My heart thunders. I take in the resolve of her features, the way she continues to hold onto me with absolute ease. This is a girl who doesn’t lie about how she feels, I’ve gathered. Who wouldn’t lie about this.

I swallow hard and lower my lips to hers. The first kiss is hesitant, a test. I offer her the chance to push me away, to tell me to get lost. But her arms wind around my neck again, bringing me flush against her, deepening our kiss.

My tongue teases the seam of her lips. The kiss turns heated, any hesitation disappearing as her thighs move to frame my hips, putting me so close to the warmth of her core.

Fuck. My cock hardens, stiffening despite the fact that I know we shouldn’t go any further than this.

That I should be strong enough to leave her with a kiss and a promise for more after she’s had some rest.

All that flies out of the window when her hips rise to meet mine, a desperate little sound leaving her mouth.

I tear my lips from hers; a deep red flush darkens her cheeks, her lips swollen from the kiss, eyes feverish with desire. I take in the rise and fall of her chest as she sucks in breaths, the way her breasts move with them.

Imogen moves her hands from my shoulders. Her fingers go to the hem of her scrub shirt, which ignites a fire within me.

“Trouble,” I warn, grabbing the hand and placing it above her head. “You want something? You ask. With your words.”

A smile curls her lips. “I already told you what I want.”

I shake my head, capturing her other hand to put it with the other. I hold both in one hand, using the other to lower my face to hers again. “Don’t be a brat,” I murmur. “Be a good girl and tell me what you want me to do to you.”

Imogen visibly shudders. If she was exhausted before, it’s gone now. There’s a fire in her dark eyes, one that calls to the one burning within me.

“I want you to touch me,” she breathes.

“Where?”

There’s only a moment of hesitation, a moment where she considers her next words carefully. “Everywhere.”

I chuckle and shake my head. “Not good enough, trouble. Do you want my mouth on that pussy of yours?” I dip my chin to brush my lips down the column of her throat. “Or do you want my cock pounding into you?”

Imogen lifts her hips to mine, but I hold myself just out of reach—despite how badly I want to feel her again.

“I don’t know,” she admits. I pull away slightly to meet her stare, which drops. “I haven’t been with anyone…ever.”

Fuck. She’s a virgin?

I don’t know why that makes my cock harden even more. And I don’t know why that turns me on so much.

Knowing that I could give her everything right now, be her first, really make her mine…has my heart clenching for a different reason.

“Cock or mouth, trouble? Those are your options,” I tell her. “Choose fast before I do it for you.”

Her eyes widen, but as soon as her choice leaves her sweet lips, I give her exactly what she desires.

My hand leaves hers for only a moment to strip her of her scrubs.

As each piece of clothing comes off, my breath comes faster, heart pounding harder at the sight of her.

She’s fucking beautiful. All soft curves, gentle slopes.

I feel like a damn animal taking her clothes off, but once they’re gone, I’m locked on her and that weeping pussy.

“Hands stay where they are,” I say, meeting her stare. “They don’t move until I’m done.”

Imogen makes a sound in the back of her throat as I move to her core. There’s a little tuft of hair above her clit, which glistens with her desire.

With one last look at her dark eyes, I take her in my mouth. She tastes as sweet as I knew she would. I lap at her desire, swirling my tongue around her clit. Imogen gasps, the sound starting soft before turning into a hard moan.

I tease her entrance with the tip of my tongue. The headboard rattles as she grips it. I chuckle against her before moving back to her clit.

I focus on tasting each bit of her; from circling her clit deliberately slow, to kissing the folds, down to testing her with the tip of my tongue. Each different touch elicits a different sound from her, has her panting breaths filling the air.

When I’ve tasted everything, I flatten my tongue to have all of her at once. Fuck, she’s delicious. Better than anything I’ve had before.

Until now, I’d been a starved man, and I never knew it.

Now, though, I have what’s mine. And she sates every part of me.

“Calder…” Her body bows off the bed, legs trembling as I give her clit more attention. “I think I’m coming.”

I move my fingers to her entrance and push inside her with my middle finger. Immediately, she clenches tight around me, her walls pulsating. I curl my finger inside her, keeping my pumps slow, sucking and toying with her clit until I feel her entire body lock up.

Imogen cries out softly as the rush of her release coats my hand and mouth. Her thighs tremble around my head, almost locking me in position. Only when she comes down from her orgasm do I stop my ministrations. Imogen is breathing hard, her chest, neck, and face flushed with desire.

When I finally lift my head from between her thighs, I smile. “Such a good girl,” I praise, keeping my finger inside her. “Such a good little listener.”

Imogen huffs, fluttering around my finger. Her hips buck, and I can’t help but laugh.

“You want more, trouble?” I sit up and palm my crotch, cock still hard—probably weeping—in my jeans.

Her eyes shine as they dart to my dick before meeting mine. “Yes,” she replies, clenching around my finger. “I want to feel you inside me. All of you.”

I swallow hard, but I don’t hesitate. I finally pull myself free of her and shuck off my jeans and shirt, until I’m just as naked as she is. The burn of her gaze only spurs me on. Hovering above her, I steal a kiss before guiding myself to her entrance.

“I don’t have any condoms,” I murmur, cringing. “But I know I don’t have anything.”

Imogen releases a shaky breath. “I’m on birth control,” she whispers. “And I got tested by my OB before coming here.”

I push the tip inside her, eyeing her carefully. Her hands move to my shoulders, nails digging into my skin.

“If it hurts, we’ll stop,” I tell her.

“I don’t want you to stop.” Her eyes flash with determination, with lust. “I just want you to fuck me.”