Page 8 of Snowed in with the Cowboy

I head inside, landing in the mudroom with a laundry room built in. I take off my hat, toss it on top of the dryer, and step out of my boots while tackling my jacket. Everything I can hang up goes on a hook to dry, while the boots go on a drying rack, a gift from Mrs. Johnson as a housewarming present. My shirt is tossed in the hamper as well as my socks. The jeans will have to stay on until I’ve showered and find something appropriate to wear around the house that won’t have my dick at attention. Clementine has the damn thing permanently hard. Climbing inside her car, seeing her things and getting a feel for her, did nothing to calm down my need to have a hell of a lot more from the beauty that’s in my bed.

I turn the light off before opening the other door, which leads to the kitchen. When I left, I made sure the light above the stove would be lit to help guide my way to the bathroom downstairs. I’d put a plan in place to use that shower and sleep on the couch tonight. I sure as fuck didn’t think about the clothes I would need after my shower. My house may not be so clean you could eat off the floor, and it sure as hell isn’t put together in an orderly fashion either, but it’s not messy where piles of clothes are everywhere, dirt is caked on the floor, and dishes aren’t done. I’ve learned in my years to pick up after myself and clean one room a day.

“Shhhh.” Nala lets out a low growl I can hear from the kitchen. She’s not greeting me. Wherever she is, she’s staying there. I make my way closer to where Nala is staking her claim. Whatever is going on is out of the norm, and while she’s taking a liking to Clementine, you’d think she’d be upstairs with her instead of down here in the living room.

“Nala,” I say sternly when she starts edging closer to the couch. I swear to God if one of my animals brought something into this house only to let it lose, I’ll be the one growling. Finally, she calms down once she realizes it’s me. You’d think she’s protecting the heard with the way she’s acting.

“That makes more sense,” I mutter under my breath when I see the raven-haired woman snuggled into the couch with a stolen pillow from my bed and the blankets piled on top of her. Clementine’s chest rises and falls, lips slightly parted, a slight redness to her cheeks, probably from being out in the too-fucking-cold weather earlier tonight. The last place I wanted her is on the couch. It’s the most uncomfortable thing I have in this place. It came with the house, and between getting the land fixed up, shopping for a couch has been the last thing on my mind. The springs on this damn thing are enough to make you rethink so much as sitting on a cushion, let alone lying on it.

“Calm down, girl. Gonna put her in bed.” Maybe telling Nala what the hell I’m doing will keep her calm. When I move closer, she backs away, realizing that I’m not going to harm Clementine. I’d rather rip my arm off than so much as lay a hand on her. Shit, the way she makes me feel, I already know letting her go is going to be near impossible.

I squat down and slide my hands beneath the covers, damning myself for not warming them up. Gloves seem like a bright idea until you’re trying to fat-finger a latch; then they piss you off more than help. Clementine shivers when the tips of my fingers graze her smooth skin. My cock thickens beneath my jeans, thinking about having her beneath me as I explore every soft curve of her body. A low moan leaves her mouth, further making me want to wake her up and see exactly what she’ll do when I get my hands on her.

“Clementine, sweetheart, I’m gonna put you in bed,” I tell her even though she’s yet to wake up as I lift her in my arms. Theblanket drops, and I have to take a few deep breaths. I’m not sure what I thought she’d be wearing, but the white wife beater tank top without a bra wasn’t it. I pull her closer to my body and head toward the stairs. Her nipples pucker without the covers, and she turns into me. Goddamn, I may as well be granted sainthood right about now. Her loose boxer shorts aren’t doing a damn bit of good either, sliding lower on her hips. Not even a cold shower is going to help me tonight.

I take the steps upstairs as fast as I can without jostling her too much. We make it to the bedroom; the bed is unmade from when I flew out of here earlier. Not like I’ve ever made the thing a day in my life. What’s the point if you’re only going to get back into it?

“Clay?” she questions when I lay her down on the bed.

“Get some sleep, Clementine.” She isn’t Minnie to me. She’s Clementine through and through. All woman and full of seductive charm, and from the way she’s looking at me, she has not a damn clue what she’s doing to me.

“I’m not taking your bed,” she says on a stretch. Her shirt slides up her stomach, tits moving, which makes it hard to keep my attention on her face.

“Not a hardship giving it up for you, sweetheart.”

“Then get in bed with me. Surely, two adults can handle sleeping together for a night or two.” She settles into the pillow, pulling the blankets up her body. Thankfully tucking her lithe body back in so I can’t perv on her anymore.

“Gotta shower first, Clementine. Get some sleep.” I drop a kiss to her forehead. Her eyes close, and it looks like she’s starting to doze off. My gaze moves away from her, noticing Jasmine is cozied up on the bench at the foot of the bed. Right on top of the woman who’s sleeping in my bed’s bag. I’ve got a feeling all the animals on the ranch are going to be enraptured by this woman, exactly like I am.

CHAPTER 9

Minnie

Icome awake when a light shines brightly in my eyes. It takes me a moment to blink the sleep away. I’m pretty sure when I went to sleep, a couch was involved, yet now I’m in a bed, surrounded by Clay’s scent. His pillows, his sheets, and in his room. It all starts coming back to me. He carried me up the stairs, telling me to sleep in his bed, and I asked him to join me. I look to the side and see he’s not there. What is beside me is Jasmine. On top of the pillow, no less, sleeping blissfully without a care in the world. One thing is for sure: Clay’s animals are living their best life.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up.” My gaze leaves Jasmines and slides to Clay’s. My breath leaves me, and I’m stunned silent. He’s standing in the doorway of the bathroom, the light pouring around him, but that’s not what has the air whooshing out of me. Nope, that would be him standing there in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair is wet and slicked back, jaw clenched, eyes darkening, and my core slickens with desire. I can feel my nipples tighten to hard peaks. There’s no hiding how Clay is making me feel, especially when I watch his nostrils flare.

“It’s okay.” I lick my lips and sit up in bed, not wanting to miss the full package that is Clay Garcia. When I talked to Lennon about love at first sight, I didn’t delve into lust at first sight. There are some things your older sister shouldn’t know, and that’s one of those. My eyes continue their path down every dip and divot of his body, shoulders that can hold the weight of the world broad enough to help me when he didn’t have to. I’m shocked to see his abs, counting them two at a time: two, four, six, and eight. Who freaking knew this was even a thing? I never did. Sure, my sister told me her fictional characters that are famous dukes from the regency era do, but those are in books. This is real freaking life, and I’m getting an up close and personal view.

“Let me grab some clothes, then I’ll be out of your way.” The last thing I want is for Clay to put clothes on or leave, but what more can I say to convince him to sleep with me?

“Clay.” My voice cracks on a whimper. I watch his slow gait as he moves to what I now know is the closet, wishing so badly he would abandon his destination and look at me again. The only good about him walking away is that I’m able to continue taking in everything that is one very fine cowboy. His back competes with the front, it’s so muscular, and he’s got a tapered waist with two dimples on his lower back. If I were in the comfort of my own room, I know exactly what I’d do.

My hands are already moving. Trying to keep them away from my breasts and center is taking a considerable amount of effort. Wetness pools between my legs, and my thighs tighten, trying to keep from rubbing them together, but nothing is helping. The pulse only heightens when he opens the closet door. Clay’s movements only make me want him more. His muscles tighten, contracting before relaxing, and as he steps inside the closet, he does the last thing I ever thought he’d do.

He drops the towel.

“Dear God.” The words escape me as I see Clay’s bare ass.

“Like what you see, Clementine?” My eyes move from where they’re glued to his backside to where Clay’s head is turned over his shoulder. A cat-ate-the-canary smile appears on his face.

“Maybe. I’m not sure.” He arches his eyebrow at me, licking his lower lip at my response.

“And what do you need to be surer?” I pull the covers back, attempting to get out of bed. “Stay there, sweetheart. I can’t be trusted, not with me naked. Not with you in my bed, your clothes doing little to hide your lithe body from me.” His voice comes out thickly, gravely, and now I’m wondering what I can do to change his mind. He returns to his task after dropping that little bombshell, covering himself, and I’m left with my mouth hanging open. Mainly because I saw a small glimpse of what he has to work with. There’s no way a man can be that big, can he?

“Clay, you are sleeping with me tonight, right?” I ask once he’s done pulling on a pair of tight boxer briefs that molds perfectly to his sculpted ass.

“Sleep, yeah. Anything else, not tonight. As much as we both want it, you’re going to be sore, and no way am I gonna last long enough for you to get yours before I get mine,” he states as he walks toward me, the shorts he’s wearing doing nothing to hide exactly what I do to him. A fact I’m well aware of when I see the full package from the front.

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