The Centaur's Bride Page 5

  “You do?” She tried to dredge up his face in her memories. “Why don’t I remember you?”

  “I was a cocky teenager.” He took a sip of wine and winked at her. “Too proud to talk to an eight-year-old girl who only wanted to chase barn kittens.”

  “Oh!” She laughed. “You can’t be that much older than me!”

  “Five or six years is a lot when you’re that age. Not so much now.” He set his wine aside on the blanket they shared. “I was sorry when your mom passed. She was good to me.”

  Renee felt tears prick her eyes. “It happened so fast. One minute she was helping me with homework, and the next I was sitting at a funeral. It was confusing. Dad called her cancer a curse.”

  “Cancer is an evil thing.” His eyes were soft in the firelight.

  She grit her teeth, remembering her dad’s ranting against evil curses, searching for anyone, anything to blame for his wife’s death. As a terrified little girl, she’d bought into the frenzy and fear. But later she began to wonder if the true evil wasn’t Mom’s death, but how Dad had let the loss affect him. “Do you believe in evil? I mean real evil?”

  Black took a deep breath and lay back against the blankets, staring up at the stars. “Not to be trite, but there’s a little bit of evil in all of us.”

  “Dad claimed the cancer was punishment for Grandfather’s evil spells.” She watched closely to see what Black thought of that bit of mysticism.

  He snorted. “Your granddad didn’t have an evil bone in his body.”

  She raised her brows at him. “I thought there was a little evil in all of us?”

  He turned to look at her, throwing out one arm like an invitation.

  Her insides quivered, the anticipation that had been bubbling through her all night shooting straight to the juncture of her thighs. Yet he’d taken things so slow, she didn’t want to just dive right in. Not yet. She leaned forward on hands and knees and scooted toward him, stopping to stare down into his face.

  He curled his hand around her knees on the blanket, like a half-circle of protection. His voice was soft as he said, “Well, if he had any, I never saw it. He was a good man. Can I tell you a secret?"

  She nodded. She wanted to know every deep, dark thing this man held dear. To tighten the heartstrings that had wrapped themselves around her without her even realizing they were there.

  "Your grandfather's treasure's part of this ranch. You can't separate the two."

  Goosebumps pimpled her flesh. She whispered, "What is it?"

  His hand tightened against her hip. "The horses here. The horses are the treasure."

  She frowned. “I know Grandfather loved his horses, but how can they be a buried treasure?"

  Black’s eyes darkened and he dropped his hold. "I've said too much. More than I'm allowed."

  “Allowed? Why are you not allowed?”

  He turned his gaze from her face to the stars. "Go back to the will. Read it closely. Consider before you sell the ranch. That's all I can give you."

  What the hell was going on around here? She and Black had gone from butting heads about footwear to molten lust to a connection she couldn't begin to explain in the course of a single evening. And now there was some sort of weird Nancy Drew secret going on. Was her father right about the black voodoo and midnight spells? “If there’s something valuable here, why didn’t he just tell me? Why leave a cryptic poem?”

  “I can’t say for sure. I only know he cherished each and every living being on this ranch. He wanted them taken care of. You should think about that before you make any decisions.”

  Her throat swelled, making it hard to speak. The longer she was here, the less she wanted to part with her inheritance. And with the cowboy who was part of it. In spite of Black holding back right now, Renee felt closer to him than she'd felt to any human being since the death of her mother.

  “I can’t afford it.”

  “The ranch won’t cost you anything,” he said earnestly. “We’ve always made do.”

  “That’s great, but I need the cash.” She gulped, thinking about how quickly the trust fund Mom had left her had disappeared.

  “Are you in trouble?” His hand tightened on her leg.

  “No,” she said. “I’m just… out of money. These adventures with Steph cost a lot.”

  For a few heartbeats, he studied her, firelight wavering over his face. “Seems to me you might not actually like the adventures in the first place.”

  She flushed. He hardly knew her, yet he seemed to be able to read her soul. Lately the adventures had become burdensome. Renee thought more and more often of settling down in one spot. Selling the ranch would buy her a few more years, but then what?

  He put a hand on her shoulder and guided her to lie beside him, pillowing her cheek in the hollow where his pec met his shoulder. Wrapping his arm behind her, he fitted her body against his and asked, “What do you do for a living, anyway?”

  The question embarrassed her. At twenty-five years old, she’d never worked a day in her life. Mom’s trust fund was supposed to have set her up as an adult; paid for school, bought a house, whatever. Instead, she’d squandered it on things like paragliding, swimming in shark cages, and chickening out of running with the bulls not once, but twice. “I’m between jobs.”

  “What do you want to do for a living?” His fingertips played delightful tickles up and down her spine, making it difficult to think.

  “I like to cook.” Not that her adventures with Steph left much time for cooking. “And I like to read.” Not much time for that, either, come to think of it. “I used to really like riding horses.”

  He stiffened. “You didn’t today?”

  She traced her fingertips over the ridges of his chest. “Oh, I did. Although my backside might disagree.”

  Lowering his hand to cup her ass, he spoke into her hair. “You just need to re-train your muscles. I could help you.”

  The embers simmering in her core flamed to life once again. The heat seemed to burn away all her witty responses. “I’m sure.”

  He took a deep breath of her hair. “You smell delicious,” he said, voice low and gravelly.

  “Like what?” Her gaze was fixed on the growing lump in his jeans.

  He rolled toward her, hoisting up on his elbow to stare down into her face. “Spring orchards and hot-blooded female.”

  Gulping, she lifted a hand to trace the stubbled line of his jaw. “That’s quite a combination.”

  His free hand slid down her ribcage and over her hip, coming to rest over her sex. She inhaled sharply, her back arching against the hard ground. The heat of his hand through her capris made her flood her panties with moisture. He eased a fingertip between her thighs.

  “I can smell when you want me.”

  “Like now?” she murmured mindlessly, lifting herself to meet the pressure of that finger.

  Dipping his face to hers, he blotted out the starlight, capturing her lips. It wasn’t a gentle or questioning kiss. It was demanding. Hard and focused. Chills raced across her skin as he thrust his tongue between her lips and claimed her. His fingers maintained pressure against her sex, and the weight of his body over her overwhelmed her senses. She wanted this, wanted him. No fooling around this time. She wanted every inch of him.

  She fumbled at his waist for the tongue of his belt. God, she was bad at this. When was the last time she’d had sex, anyway? It didn’t matter. She wanted this man, and she wanted him now.

  He let out a soft, sexy noise deep in his throat and let her fumble a moment more before reaching down and flicking the belt loose. She yanked his zipper down and thrust her fingertips into the gap, locating the firm rounded head of his cock. He let out another soft groan, and nipped against her lower lip. His abs went rigid while he shoved his pants down his thighs.

  He eased himself against her, and the hard length of his erection threatened to burn through the thin material of her capris. Cupping a hand behind her neck, he used the other hand to drag her w
aist hard against him. His tongue stroked her mouth rhythmically, spiraling the kiss into new heights of pleasure. He ran his hand up her ribs, dragging the thin material of her tank top with it. She raised her arms above her head so he could pull the garment free. He flung the flimsy material somewhere into the darkness and then was back on her, kissing her as he reached around to unsnap the clasp of her bra.

  Cool night air hardened her nipples, followed by the hot wet heat of his mouth. Before she could exhale, he had the waistband of her capris undone and was peeling both them and her panties down her legs, her bare feet kicking the fabric free. She lay there naked in the firelight, him on his knees above her, as he stared down, drinking in her body with his eyes. His jeans hung part way down his thighs, allowing his massive erection free, but the rest of him was still covered, which seemed wrong on this glorious, sex-scented evening. Renee bolted upright, shoving his tee shirt up his torso. Her palms skimmed the hard ridges of his muscles before he reached down and grasped the hem, nearly ripping the material off his body before flinging it into the night to join her tank top and capris.

  He grabbed her and flung her back to the blankets, one hand beneath her hips. She wrapped her legs around him, urging him closer. His mouth found hers again, sucking the breath from her with his impassioned kiss. He ground his hips, hitting her in exactly the right spot, his erection rolling against her slick folds and leaving her trembling.

  His body was shaking now, too, a low noise rumbling deep in his throat. He grabbed her wrists in one hand and pushed them over her head, nipping kisses down her throat to the hollow of her neck and shoulder. God, was he a forceful, sexy man.

  The dying embers of the fire cast shadows within shadows. Black lifted himself into a pushup above her, allowing her to view his incredible body, his incredible strength. Chest heaving with passion, deep ridges outlined every one of his muscles. His eyes seemed to have an almost feral glow. He dragged his hungry gaze from hers and traced his attention almost tangibly across her lips, down her throat, to the electrified peaks of her nipples. The head of his cock waited directly against her entrance, pressing only hard enough to tease her with his girth.

  She let out an incomprehensible murmur, arching her back, trying to take him in.

  With infuriating slowness he pushed into her, millimeter by millimeter, stretching her.

  “Ride me,” she whimpered, too trembly inside to scream. Then louder, “Hard!”

  The sexy noise in his throat vibrated louder and he thrust downward, burying himself, crushing himself against her. She bucked against him, yearning for a second stroke.

  He held the grind, his hand still holding both of hers trapped above her head. She wriggled beneath him, driving herself mad. When she sought his face, she found a smirk there. The naughty cowboy was teasing her, tormenting her. And she loved it. Loved being at his mercy.

  “More,” she said on a breath.

  He pulled back only to dip into her shallowly again, another kind of tease, another kind of pleasure. “Tell me what you want.”

  “You. Please. All of you. Give me everything.”

  Black thrust forward, hard and deep, and she cried out in pleasure. Oh God, this was perfect. So right, and he was sliding in and out of her hard and fast. He pounded against her clit with excruciating skill, over and over, filling her with a tingling she hadn’t experienced in so long.

  He released her wrists and lowered himself against her, flesh to flesh, belly to belly. His hard muscles slipped against her skin, the friction adding yet another layer of sensation. Had sex ever felt like this? A desperate need to go farther, faster, deeper. To envelop every bit of him, not just his cock.

  Something blossomed in her chest, radiating outward like a glowing wave. This was mystical. This was unique. Like every cell in her body had come alive at once, and every pump of his cock made the wave rise higher.

  He spread her legs wider, thrusting into her, pounding her, and she was ready. The wave crested, and she had no control over what was happening. She cried out and grabbed the back of his hair, clutching on for dear life.

  The deep-voiced vibration in his throat erupted into something primal and wild. The sound tightened her core around the orgasm ripping through her, sent her into an explosion of pleasure that nearly made her lose consciousness. Black buried his face against her neck, his teeth against her skin as he rammed her, rode her, every muscle coiled. Pulsing ripples sent a second wave of pleasure through her as he shot his warmth into her. He reared back and bucked one last time, filling her with pleasure bordering on pain as flooding heat emptied inside her.

  He collapsed on top of her, weight mostly on his elbows as his cock throbbed in time with her own aftershocks. Resting his forehead against hers, he hugged her tightly. “What just happened?” he asked.

  She could barely catch her breath. “You’ve never had an orgasm before?”

  He pulled back only enough to look into her eyes. “You’re saying it’s like that for you every time?”

  If her heated skin could have flushed any more, she would have. But he was right. Two people couldn’t get any closer than they were right now, connected at the hips, him buried deep inside her. And yet it felt like they’d just shared more. It felt like their souls had met.

  Black rolled to the side, bringing her with him. She cuddled into his warmth, surprised at how cool the night air felt against her skin. “I don’t… I know I talk a big game, but I don’t just jump into bed with anyone. What we just did, that was… I don’t know what that was. That was special.”

  “It’s not fair,” he said, his heart beating too fast under her cheek.

  “What isn’t?”

  He swallowed audibly. “Relationships.”

  Renee sat up, her heartbeat matching his. Was that what this was? Were they in a relationship? If she was honest, she felt more vulnerable now than she ever had in her life. Her playful flirting had turned into something deeper than she’d anticipated. She craved him for more than just sex. They’d connected on a level she’d never thought possible. His touch made her feel alive again. She wasn't merely someone else's shadow waiting for that someone to make the next move so she could follow. This man made her feel tall. Like he understood what it was like to need to fit in, no matter the cost, and he didn't expect her to act like someone else to make him like her.

  She covered her breasts, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze, fighting the feeling deep inside her. Get a grip, Renee. It’s not like he said he loves you. Yet how was she supposed to respond?

  Before she could form the words, Black bolted upright. His attention seemed to be focused on the darkness outside camp, like he’d heard something.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Then a woman’s scream pierced the night.

  HAPTER SEVEN

  Black was on his feet in an instant, ears alert. He’d heard the horses shifting uncomfortably, but had ignored it. Now he wanted to kick himself for growing careless. For losing himself so completely in the mind-blowing sex. He bent to help Renee to her feet.

  She rose, pressing herself against him, her sweet scent mingling with the night air. Her voice trembled. “Was that a woman?”

  “Mountain lion.” Giving her a reassuring squeeze, he let go and moved to stoke the fire back to life. “It won’t come near the fire.”

  Renee scrambled to find her clothes, pulling her tank over her head. Black dug in their gear and pulled out the .45 he carried for protection. He’d only had to use it once before, to warn off a bear that had been coming too close to the barn. “I’d better bring the horses in.”

  As he reached for his jeans, terrified whinnies from the wild herd cut through the night. The distinctive high pitched cry of a foal set Black’s limbs trembling. No. Shifter herd or wild brethren, it didn’t matter, he had a driving need to protect, especially the young.

  He thrust the gun toward Renee. “You know how to use a gun?”

  She stared at the weapon as if it migh
t bite her. “N-no.”

  Still holding the pistol, he spun toward the herd’s cries. His centaur form was stretching the seams of his control, bucking to be released. He took Renee by one shoulder and turned her toward the blaze, thinking fleetingly about leaving the gun. Better not. A gun in inexperienced hands could be more dangerous than helpful. “You’ll be safe here. Keep the flames high. I’ll be back.”

  “Wait! You’re going out there naked?”

  The power of the shift vibrated uncontrollably inside him. He called over his shoulder, “I’ll be fine!”

  Bounding from the camp, he held the change at bay until he was clear of the firelight. He couldn’t allow Renee to see, not only because Lori forbade it, but also because he wasn’t ready to expose himself. She’d think he was a monster.

  The wildcat screeched again, the echo tapering to nothing as it routed its prey. Black’s shift seized his muscles and bones, splitting his legs and shifting his elongating spine backward. He paused only long enough to stabilize his new footing, then galloped across the moonlit sagebrush, hooves thundering against the dry ground. His blood burned with the need to protect. He let his ears guide him. The wildcat had gone silent. It’d made its mark.

  Heading for the pocket of unnatural silence, Black galloped forward. The sky outlined several horses in starlight. Millie’s familiar slumped back stood at the outer edge, bravely facing into the night. He’d assumed the nearby group was a herd of wild cousins. If he’d known it was shifters, he might not have so readily made camp nearby.

  Millie nickered in his direction, calling for aid. He drew close, scanning the group. Millie’s baby was nowhere in sight. “Where’s Ivy-Jane?”

  The mare nickered again, hopping her front hooves up and down anxiously. If it hadn’t been more dangerous to be in human form, she’d likely have shifted back. But a naked human would be just as tasty to a mountain lion as a helpless foal. He forced thoughts of Renee, alone at the camp, from his mind. The fire would keep her safe. Right now he needed to find Ivy-Jane. How had the foal gotten separated from her mother?