Trusting Sydney: The Temptation Saga: Book Six Page 2

  “Do you still work with him?”

  “I take care of him. I haven’t tried to ride him again. Like I said, I gave all that up when I got pregnant.”

  “Yeah, I understand.” Sydney’s gaze shot to Sean, who was sitting on the floor with his Legos. “Your little boy is beautiful.”

  “Thank you. We think so.”

  “So what time are you starting tonight?” Sydney fidgeted a little and played with her hair.

  Did she not want to go to Dusty’s shindig? Why on earth not? His baby sister and her hubby threw a party like nobody’s business.

  “Around six. Come on over any time. We’ll have a dinner buffet, but it’s a ‘serve yourself and eat when you want to’ kind of thing.”

  Sam laughed. “Don’t listen to her. The McCrays don’t do anything halfway. Their ‘serve yourself’ buffet will be an open bar and a huge spread topped with a baron of McCray beef.”

  Sydney blinked again. Clearly, the woman was a bit nervous. Because of him? Couldn’t be. Five years had passed since their clandestine liaison. No reason to be nervous.

  Course his own belly was doing a series of somersaults.

  He excused himself and left the box. He found an empty seat in the rafters and plunked down.

  Sydney Buchanan.

  She hadn’t changed a bit. In fact, if it were possible, she looked even sexier and more beautiful.

  They had shared an amazing night all those years ago, still the most passionate night he’d ever spent. Bits and pieces of their crazy lovemaking still haunted him regularly, but a long time had passed since he’d relived the entire night.

  Opening ceremonies were still going on, but soon Mark’s voice became unintelligible, and a vision appeared in Sam’s mind.

  * * *

  “We could go to my room.”

  How had they gotten there? Sam wasn’t sure, but sure as day, here he was in Sydney Buchanan’s hotel room, kissing those beautiful red lips.

  He stiffened as she sighed softly into his mouth. He traced his tongue around her luscious full lips and gently eased it into her sweet mouth.

  The soft sigh again—it vibrated sweetly against his inner cheeks. He deepened the kiss.

  Her response was immediate. Her soft tongue swept against his own. A girl who liked tongue as much as he did. Heaven on Earth. The kiss became more frantic, more urgent. Their tongues tangled together, and Sydney’s soft sighs turned into low moans.

  She pressed her full breasts against his chest. More heaven. Sam couldn’t remember a time when he’d desired a woman this much. He urged her forward until they hit the wall next to the bathroom. He pushed her against the hard surface and ground his erection against her. He was so hard he thought he might burst.

  Still they kissed, fully clothed, moaning into each other’s mouths. When she ripped away from him and inhaled, he rained wet kisses over her cheek and her neck, spurred by the frantic need that welled within him.

  Her scent intoxicated him. Green apples or pears, fruity and inebriating, mixed with a feminine musk all her own. A deep hunger swelled in his groin, and his thoughts strayed to her hidden core. Would she be wet for him? Would she taste as good as she smelled?

  He’d soon find out.

  But first, the silky skin of her shoulders and the plump swell of her breasts beckoned him.

  A few whispered words escaped her lips in a soft breathy caress against his neck. What had she said? He wasn’t sure, but they were a husky sound, a helpless sound. A sound of want and desire.

  “Do you want me, Sydney?”

  “God, yes.”

  She wore a little black dress—sexy and classic—and right now he couldn’t wait to get it off her.

  He slid one spaghetti strap off her milky shoulder and pressed his lips to the smooth skin. Fire blazed through his veins. He inhaled, drinking in her fruity, musky fragrance.

  She sighed. “That feels so good.”

  “Good, honey. I want to make you feel good. I want to take you to the stars.”

  He moved to the other strap and eased it over her creamy flesh. This time he kept going, until he exposed her rosy bosom.

  “My God, you’re beautiful.” He cupped both breasts.

  “Yes. Touch me. Please.”

  A chuckle left his throat. “Since you asked so nicely.”

  He thumbed both nipples until they were hard and erect beneath his fingers. He tugged at them until he could resist no longer. Then he lowered his mouth to one peak and licked it lightly.

  “Yes,” she said again. “Yes, suck my nipple.”

  A girl who liked to talk during sex. Another plus. He clamped his lips over the hard bud. Her texture was satin against his tongue and oh so sweet. He’d never come across nipples that had a flavor before. Or maybe he just wanted this woman like he’d never wanted another.

  Crazy. They’d just met. He wasn’t one to screw on the first date—if this was even a date. But damned if it didn’t feel like the rightest thing he’d done in years.

  She sure wasn’t complaining either. To be on the safe side, he lifted his mouth from her nipple and met her dark gaze. “You sure about this, sweetheart?”

  She nodded, and her smile lit her face like the lights on a country Christmas tree. “I’m very sure. I want you, Sam.”

  His cock roared to life. “I want you too. God, I want you.”

  He lowered his head and took the other nipple between his lips. He licked and nibbled, enjoying her moans as she writhed against him. He slid the dress down her side, over the hills of her hips, over her thighs, until it lay crumpled on the floor in a black puddle. He eased her panties down and she stepped out of them. A triangle of black pointed the way to ecstasy. He reached between her legs and smoothed his fingers through her folds. Slick. Moist. Wet.

  So wet.

  He groaned. “Wet, sweetheart.”

  “For you,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper.

  His erection strained harder against the confines of his black pants. They were a loose fit, but damned if they weren’t tight as a bowstring right now.

  “Take me to bed, Sam.”

  No need to ask twice. Naked except for her strappy silver sandals, she stood, ruby lips parted, dark hair cascading over silk skin, looking like a creamy dessert.

  Still fully clothed, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. He laid her on the cool sheets, sat down, and started unbuttoning his shirt.

  She sat up. “Let me,” she said and took over undressing him. With each button and newly exposed skin, she kissed him.

  And with each kiss, his skin tightened, and blood rushed through his veins and settled in his already throbbing erection. He felt her kisses in every pore of his body, every pulse of his heart. Heat curled inside him, threatening his control.

  When his shirt lay in a heap on the floor, she started on his pants. A drop of fluid darkened a hole-punch-size spot on his boxer briefs. She smiled, and he knew she had noticed.

  He didn’t care. It was no secret how much he wanted her. His rock-hard cock was evidence enough of that.

  She eased the boxers and pants over his legs, and her eyes widened.

  “You’re so muscular. God, your legs are amazing.”

  He smiled. “Thank you.”

  “But this”—she slid her hands up his thighs to his cock—“is truly a work of art.” She kissed the head lightly, licking away another drop of fluid.

  He jerked. Just one tiny touch from her lips on his cock and he was ready to explode. “God, sweetheart. Damn, that feels good.”

  “Mmm, then this’ll feel even better.” She took his length between her lips.

  Sweet God in heaven! He couldn’t come yet. Had to get inside her. But oh, how her mouth tantalized him. On top of the incredible feeling, the image of her full lips gliding over his cock was a major turn-on.

  And he hadn’t thought it possible to get more turned on.

  Oral sex was good no matter what, but Sydney Buchanan had ele
vated it to a fine art. She alternated swirling her tongue around the head and thrusting her mouth up and down his length. Every time he thought he’d burst, she eased up and brought him back down.

  Good thing, too, because this night wasn’t ending before he tasted the treasure between those long, beautiful legs.

  Gently he grabbed both her cheeks and pulled her toward him for a long, deep kiss. His own saltiness on her tongue drove him crazy, but before he got too frantic, he turned her over so she lay on her back. He broke the kiss and spread her lovely legs.

  Between them, her glistening sex beckoned. He kissed each nipple, trailed his lips down her smooth belly to her vulva, and then to her moist folds.

  Like silk beneath his tongue. She tasted of sweet pear, of morning dew. He flicked her hard clit with his tongue and then buried it in her wet channel.

  She writhed beneath him. “Yes, just like that. Please.”

  He continued, adding one finger, and then another, all the while licking her, until she clamped down on his hand.

  “Yes! I’m coming.”

  She didn’t have to say it. He knew by the pulsing within her against his fingers and tongue.

  And God, he was thrilled.

  He had to have her, and he had to have her now.

  He gently eased his fingers from her and left the bed for a moment to grab his wallet out of his pants and the condom out of his wallet. He sheathed himself in record time and plowed into her tight depths.

  “God!” So good, so very good. He pumped and pumped, her hips rising to meet him. He met her mouth with a sizzling kiss, all the while thrusting harder and faster.

  When he’d almost reached the brink, he pulled out, turned her over gently, and entered her from behind.

  Doggy style. He loved that position. Loved them all. He wanted her on top next, riding him like she rode her barrel racing mare. Only faster and stronger and never ending.

  He thrust again. Her sweet ass cheeks wiggled against his hips—beautiful. Everything about her was beautiful, but Sam was a self-professed ass man.

  Well, and a boob man.

  Aw, hell, he loved it all.

  Even her back was sexy—smooth and creamy and all her.

  Sydney.

  What a woman.

  Finally, he could hold out no longer.

  “Now, honey, now,” he said, and he reached underneath her and rubbed her swollen clit.

  When her orgasm began, he let go. Tiny convulsions started at the base of his cock and spread through his length. As the orgasm erupted, the spasms darted through his body, spreading to his arms and legs. Nirvana. He went rigid and plunged into her as far as he could, letting the climax take him.

  Shudders racked his body, and when the contractions finally died down, his legs shook. When he stood to dispose of the condom, they felt like jelly.

  They rested a bit, shared a glass of wine.

  Then they started again.

  * * *

  Sam saw only darkness. He opened his eyes. When had he closed them? His erection pressed against his jeans. Well, wouldn’t be getting up from this seat for a while. Good thing the opening ceremonies were still going on. Man, that Mark guy was a windbag. Was it really necessary to introduce the florist? Sheesh.

  The memory of that night filled Sam with happiness.

  Happiness. How long had happiness been missing from his life?

  He wasn’t unhappy. Not at all. Yet life had grown stale. He simply existed from day to day. Even when he went on the road to rodeos, as now, his life held little meaning. No one needed him anymore. Dusty had Zach and their son. His ranch was thriving and his able foreman took care of everything. He had dated a few times in the last several years, but he hadn’t found anyone who really brought meaning into his life.

  Day to day to day to day—the life of Sam O’Donovan.

  But at this moment, he was smiling. Joy coursed through his veins.

  Sydney Buchanan.

  He’d tried once to look her up after he returned to Montana but hadn’t kept looking for very long. He’d had a bankrupt ranch to look after. He could have found her if he’d looked harder.

  He’d given up.

  No more giving up.

  He motioned to a vendor selling beer. Too bad they didn’t sell shots of bourbon. He could use a stiff one—to help him get rid of his other stiff one.

  Sydney Buchanan.

  She’d be at Dusty’s party tonight.

  And she’d be in Sam’s bed come morning.

  Chapter Two

  “Sammy, it’s great to have you back in town!” Chad McCray slapped Sam on the back. “I don’t get to see my only blood brother enough.”

  Sam laughed, though the comment saddened him. He and Chad had become blood brothers the day Sam and his family had left McCray Landing where his father worked as a ranch hand. They went back to Montana to stay with his mother’s family when she was dying of leukemia.

  Though the disease had taken his mother, it had spared his baby sister, thank God. Dusty had responded well to treatment and was now considered cured. She was the picture of health and country-girl beauty, roaming around the crowd and playing hostess in her red gingham blouse and denim miniskirt.

  Chad excused himself, and Sam turned to see Dusty approach an older gentleman. Sam jerked in his boots. Thunder Morgan. Dusty grabbed the man’s arm and pulled him toward Sam. The rodeo queen and her boyfriend trailed behind.

  “Sam,” Dusty said, “I know this is someone you’ve been dying to meet.”

  Sam stuck out his hand. “Mr. Morgan, it’s an honor.”

  The man chuckled. “It’s Thunder or Morgan, take your pick. But never Mr. Morgan. Nice to meet you.” He turned toward the other two. “Have you met my daughter, Amber, and her fiancé, Harper Bay?”

  Sam nodded. “I know Harper. How are you?”

  “Good, good,” Harper said.

  “And Amber, it’s a pleasure. You are one beautiful rodeo queen.”

  Amber’s delicate skin turned rosy, and she shook her platinum waves. “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you. Dusty raves about you. We’re so glad you’ll be able to stay in town for our wedding next week.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” Sam said.

  “I know you have lots of questions for Thunder,” Dusty said.

  Sam nodded. He did. A million, maybe. But at the moment, his tongue was tied in a knot.

  Clad in denim shorts and a white camisole, her dark gaze scanning the party, was none other than Sydney Buchanan.

  “Sydney!” Dusty motioned her toward them.

  She walked toward them slowly. With a little trepidation maybe? Sam wasn’t sure.

  “Where are your parents?” Dusty asked.

  “They decided to stay at the hotel,” Sydney said. “My little brother isn’t feeling well tonight.”

  Little brother? Sam knew Sydney had an older brother, Blake, who lived in Bakersville now. But a younger one? Still a lot he didn’t know about this gorgeous woman.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Dusty said. “I really wanted him and Sean to meet. They’re almost the same age.”

  Sydney smiled, her lips trembling ever so slightly. Was she nervous?

  “Some other time. I’m sure they’ll hit it off.”

  Dusty made the necessary introductions, and Thunder, Amber, and Harper excused themselves to get a drink.

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Sam said. “Would you like a drink?”

  Sydney shook her head and cleared her throat. “On second thought, yes.”

  “What’ll it be? It’s full bar here, like I told you.”

  She smiled. “How about a dry martini?”

  “Sounds great.” He walked her over to the bar.

  “A dry martini for the lady, and a Fat Tire for me.” Sam shoved a few dollar bills into the bartender’s tip jar and handed the martini to Sydney.

  “Thank you,” she said shyly.

  Was this a coy routine? She sure hadn’t been shy t
hat night five years ago. In fact, she had invited him to her room, not the other way around.

  Course five years was a long time. People did change. Who knew what had happened to her in half a decade? No matter. Sam planned to learn all he could about Miss Sydney Buchanan this evening.

  But before he could ask the first question, she excused herself to make a phone call.

  Damn.

  * * *

  Calm down, Syd. Jesus.

  She’d handled this much better at the rodeo. Still, her heart had thumped so hard against her sternum she’d thought for sure Sam could see it.

  Now, in this slinky camisole—which had been a mistake, by the way—it must be completely obvious. She leaned against the counter in the downstairs bathroom and regarded her image in the mirror. What had she been thinking?

  He was as handsome as she remembered—sandy brown hair, expressive brown eyes, and that body! He’d been ripped head to toe five years ago, and from what she could see, that hadn’t changed. If anything, he looked even better. His dark jeans hugged those slim hips and that perfect butt just right—not too tight, but tight enough to see the gorgeous musculature.

  She hadn’t seen him bust broncs. She hadn’t seen him at all after that one night, even though they’d both been in Denver at the Stock Show for the next few days. He hadn’t tried to contact her.

  A veil of guilt blanketed her. Nor had she tried to contact him.

  She should have called.

  Yes, he could have called. But she should have.

  No matter. They were just two ships that had passed during one amazing night. They could never pass again for myriad reasons, none of which she could dwell on at the moment.

  Why had she come to this party? She’d known it was a bad idea. Dusty McCray was such a sweetie to invite her. Sydney was amazed Dusty had remembered her after so long.

  I suppose you never forget your final barrel race.

  Sydney hadn’t forgotten that race either. She’d won a sizable purse, and it had been her last race for about a year and a half.

  She’d been back for a couple years now. She had done well but hadn’t been overly successful. Hopefully this rodeo would be good to her. She needed to win a purse—a big one.