“Unbelievably fucking hot.”
Hot. “Shit.” Ginny sprang up and grabbed her robe. “The coffee.”
Jack rose easily from the bed and strode past her. “Sit down. I’ll take care of it.”
It was just as well, because her legs wouldn’t hold her. She sank back to the edge of the bed and snorted. “Terrific. How am I supposed to ride all over creation tomorrow, fetching my lost stock?”
He just grinned smugly and disappeared through the door, apparently unconcerned with his lack of clothing.
Ginny dropped her robe at the foot of the bed and climbed up under the covers naked. “I’m not bothering with a nightgown,” she called out. “So you’ll have to keep me warm.”
His chuckle floated back up to her. “I thought you wanted to be able to sit a horse tomorrow.”
It suddenly seemed less important than spending the night with Jack’s naked body pressed against hers. “What’s a few head of cattle here and there?”
She heard another laugh, followed by the quiet sounds of him moving about in her small kitchen.
She knew exactly when he came to the door, but he said nothing and didn’t cross the room. Finally, she raised her head. “Will you quit staring and come to bed?”
“What can I say?” He smiled as he stepped over the threshold. “The view was nice, even with all the blankets.”
Ginny drew back the covers and grinned as she admired him. “If you want to sleep tonight, stop wandering around my house buck naked.”
His smile shifted to a wicked grin as he obeyed and slipped into the bed next to her. One arm wrapped around her waist and tugged her firmly back against him. “You think being naked in your bed is liable to make me more sleepy?”
She snuggled against him and reached back with one hand to stroke his thigh. “I think it could, if we keep our hands to ourselves.”
He smacked her hip lightly. “You want to be so sore that Ollie has to ask why you’re riding funny tomorrow?”
“We both heal quickly.” After rolling to face Jack, Ginny bit his chin. “I’m a little more worried about exhaustion.”
“As well you should be. And not just yours. I’m not twenty anymore, woman.”
“Mmm, me neither.” Her face nestled against his neck and her limbs tangled with his, and sleep beckoned. “’Night, Jack.”
The last thing she felt were his strong fingers drifting through her hair as he held her close to him. “Good night, Ginny.”
Chapter Three
Jack awoke the next morning alone in Ginny’s bed. He could hear her downstairs, along with the clatter of the cast-iron stove. He rose with a smile and sought out his clothes, amused to find them folded neatly on a chair next to the bed.
He listened to her move about as he pulled on his clothing, opting to carry his gun belt in his hand as he started down the stairs. “I hope there’s coffee this morning,” he called as he reached the bottom step. “You wore me out.”
“Yes, there’s coffee,” Ginny laughed and pointed to an insulated carafe on the sideboard. “You like omelets?” She poked at a half-cooked one in a skillet and shot him a questioning look.
“Sure. Sounds good.” He dropped his belt over the back of the chair and crossed the kitchen to stand at her back. Her hip felt good under his hand, the wicked flare a reminder of the night before and how well it had fit his fingers as he’d pulled her into every thrust. The memory made his voice a little lower than usual as he leaned down to kiss the side of her neck. “Good morning.”
She lifted one hand to his face, then turned her head and smiled. “Good morning, Jack.”
He nuzzled his nose against her ear. “You must have been quiet.”
“Uh-huh.” She laughed again. “I wanted to let you sleep. I wore you out, right?”
His fingers tightened on her hip, and he tugged her back until her ass pressed against tight against his cock, which had hardened the moment he’d touched her. “Obviously not enough.”
Ginny sucked in a
Hot. “Shit.” Ginny sprang up and grabbed her robe. “The coffee.”
Jack rose easily from the bed and strode past her. “Sit down. I’ll take care of it.”
It was just as well, because her legs wouldn’t hold her. She sank back to the edge of the bed and snorted. “Terrific. How am I supposed to ride all over creation tomorrow, fetching my lost stock?”
He just grinned smugly and disappeared through the door, apparently unconcerned with his lack of clothing.
Ginny dropped her robe at the foot of the bed and climbed up under the covers naked. “I’m not bothering with a nightgown,” she called out. “So you’ll have to keep me warm.”
His chuckle floated back up to her. “I thought you wanted to be able to sit a horse tomorrow.”
It suddenly seemed less important than spending the night with Jack’s naked body pressed against hers. “What’s a few head of cattle here and there?”
She heard another laugh, followed by the quiet sounds of him moving about in her small kitchen.
She knew exactly when he came to the door, but he said nothing and didn’t cross the room. Finally, she raised her head. “Will you quit staring and come to bed?”
“What can I say?” He smiled as he stepped over the threshold. “The view was nice, even with all the blankets.”
Ginny drew back the covers and grinned as she admired him. “If you want to sleep tonight, stop wandering around my house buck naked.”
His smile shifted to a wicked grin as he obeyed and slipped into the bed next to her. One arm wrapped around her waist and tugged her firmly back against him. “You think being naked in your bed is liable to make me more sleepy?”
She snuggled against him and reached back with one hand to stroke his thigh. “I think it could, if we keep our hands to ourselves.”
He smacked her hip lightly. “You want to be so sore that Ollie has to ask why you’re riding funny tomorrow?”
“We both heal quickly.” After rolling to face Jack, Ginny bit his chin. “I’m a little more worried about exhaustion.”
“As well you should be. And not just yours. I’m not twenty anymore, woman.”
“Mmm, me neither.” Her face nestled against his neck and her limbs tangled with his, and sleep beckoned. “’Night, Jack.”
The last thing she felt were his strong fingers drifting through her hair as he held her close to him. “Good night, Ginny.”
Chapter Three
Jack awoke the next morning alone in Ginny’s bed. He could hear her downstairs, along with the clatter of the cast-iron stove. He rose with a smile and sought out his clothes, amused to find them folded neatly on a chair next to the bed.
He listened to her move about as he pulled on his clothing, opting to carry his gun belt in his hand as he started down the stairs. “I hope there’s coffee this morning,” he called as he reached the bottom step. “You wore me out.”
“Yes, there’s coffee,” Ginny laughed and pointed to an insulated carafe on the sideboard. “You like omelets?” She poked at a half-cooked one in a skillet and shot him a questioning look.
“Sure. Sounds good.” He dropped his belt over the back of the chair and crossed the kitchen to stand at her back. Her hip felt good under his hand, the wicked flare a reminder of the night before and how well it had fit his fingers as he’d pulled her into every thrust. The memory made his voice a little lower than usual as he leaned down to kiss the side of her neck. “Good morning.”
She lifted one hand to his face, then turned her head and smiled. “Good morning, Jack.”
He nuzzled his nose against her ear. “You must have been quiet.”
“Uh-huh.” She laughed again. “I wanted to let you sleep. I wore you out, right?”
His fingers tightened on her hip, and he tugged her back until her ass pressed against tight against his cock, which had hardened the moment he’d touched her. “Obviously not enough.”
Ginny sucked in a
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