Cassie's Hope (Riders Up) by Adriana Kraft

dicing ham, cutting cheese and
green peppers, he maintained a chatter that seemed uncharacteristic.
    Again, he seemed
out of sorts with her in his house. They’d made love on shedrow and almost
incessantly in Wendover and at the Salt Lake hotel, but this was his home. Would
it be that intimidating...making love in his bed?
    “So how many women
do you have over, Travers?” Cassie cracked, in an effort to lighten the mood. “You
have enough supplies to feed an army.”
    “None,” he
responded. Clint turned to look into his guest’s questioning eyes. “I have a
large family.” He laughed. “Hell, the entire community will show up
unannounced. It’s the way things are here. You have to be prepared.”
     
    - o -
     
    Had he just dodged
a bullet? Clint busied himself at the stove. Why couldn’t he simply speak the
truth to this woman? Why did he think he could bring her here without opening a
large can of worms?
    Turning over an
omelet, he knew the answer to why he’d taken such a risk. He wanted her to know
he was no cowboy drifter—he was a person of some substance. He wanted her
respect. But that left a remaining question...why?
    Minutes later,
Cassie dug into the large omelet he’d set before her. “This is delicious,
Clint. Your kitchen may say down home, but this food is first class.”
    “Omelets are my
specialty.”
    She pointed her
fork at him. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”
    He flinched, then
gave her an easy smile. “Have to keep you on your toes, or you’ll be getting so
comfortable you’ll want to stay.”
    She flushed. “No
chance of that,” she mumbled. “I’ve got a horse to run and a job waiting back
in Chicago.” She caught him grinning broadly.
     
    - o -
     
    Later that evening,
they sat on a blanket watching the flames of Clint’s fireplace dance about leaping
upwards as if to find new dreams and fresh hopes. Cassie sat between Clint’s
legs and leaned back against his chest. She sighed. His place was so
comfortable. There were moments in life that deserved replicating, and this was
one of those.
    “A penny for your
thoughts,” Clint whispered into her ear.
    Without pulling her
gaze away from the fire, she said, “You can get more for your penny than that.”
    “Is that a threat
or a promise?”
    She laughed,
turning toward him. “Whatever you want.”
    He rubbed his face
in her hair and lifted it away from her neck. His lips on her bare skin soothed
and excited. She studied the fire again and let his hands roam freely over her
body. They squeezed her jean-clad thighs, skimmed her crotch, and slid under
her tank top, making their way to her breasts. She wore no bra to impede his
efforts. His fingers played with her nipples until they quickly hardened.
    She sensed his
breath catch.
    “You’re an
intoxicating lady.”
    She hummed,
thrilled by his words and his fingers.
    He tugged at the
snap of her jeans. She smiled and helped him ease them off along with her
panties. She tried to focus on the flames in the fireplace while Clint stirred
her inner heat.
    He eased a finger
into her moist crevice and she arched her back against his chest. She covered
his hand, guiding him, helping him with his exploration. He blew warm air on
her neck and began a steady cadence with his buried finger. A second finger
joined the first. The flames of the fireplace drew her; her inner flames
gathered momentum. She brushed a thumb across her clit. She closed her eyes and
leaned heavily against Clint.
    “So sweet,” she
moaned. She felt his fingers curl up inside, searching. Leaning forward, she
yanked her tank top off and settled back again, twisting her nipples as he
found what he’d been seeking. “That’s it. You’re right on it.”
    “Come for me.”
    “I will. I am.” She
spread her knees as wide as she could while bucking against his fingers. “That’s
it. Almost. Keep going.”
    She arched forward
and backward, panting with anticipation. “Now!” she yelped.