Page 36 of Saddles and Snowstorms
“But what about you?”
“Don’t worry about me,” he smiled. “I’ll be right there with you.”
I nodded silently, my heart pounding as his hands slid down my chest, mapping every contour with careful attention. For a vet who spent his days with livestock, Rowan had a gentleness to his touch that made me shiver. He worked my shirt off my shoulders completely, letting it fall to the floor beside the chair.
“You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, studying me like I was something precious. “All this time under those flannel shirts...”
I laughed, feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny. Still, it felt good to be seen.
“Let me help you to the couch,” he said, his ass sliding across my cock as he got up from the chair. He held out a hand. “Come on.”
I took his hand, allowing him to pull me toward the worn leather couch that sat across from the fireplace. My good leg felt weak beneath me, desire and nervousness battling for dominance in my veins. The storm outside howled, rattling the windows, but inside my cabin, the only sounds were our ragged breathing and the crackle of the fire.
Rowan guided me down onto the couch, careful of mysprained ankle, then stood before me, his eyes never leaving mine as he slowly unbuttoned his own shirt. I watched, transfixed, as each inch of tanned skin was revealed. The city boy was built like he’d spent his life on a ranch instead of in a veterinary clinic. Broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist, his chest and abdomen defined with lean muscle that flexed as he shrugged the shirt from his shoulders.
With slow and deliberate movements, he unbuttoned his jeans. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear, he pushed both down revealing a tuft of dark brown hair before it gave way to a thick, gorgeous cock. It sprang upward as his pants fell away, throbbing gently in time with his heartbeat. Already I could see a small bead of pre-cum gathering at the tip. A thick vein snaked around his cock, giving it a sculptured perfection that I couldn’t look away from.
“There,” he said, grinning down at me with a cocky confidence that told me he knew how gorgeous he was. “That’s a lot more comfortable.”
Rowan stepped closer, leaning over me as he grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch. His cock bobbed inches from my face, my mouth hanging open like a cartoon character. I was practically drooling. But Rowan took his time, letting me get a good look before he leaned back and threw the blanket over the end cushions of the couch. Then, he flopped down, spreading his legs wide so I could continue to stare.
“Come here,” he said, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me easily into his lap. He adjusted me so my head was lying against his abdomen. “Is it okay if I touch you?”
I nodded stupidly, knowing his cock was only a few inches to my right, warmth rolling off of it. His cologne was replaced with the musky scent of his arousal, making my dick twitch with excitement.
Rowan cradled me against his body as his fingers slid down my torso and slipped below the waistband of my sweatpants. I gasped as his fingers brushed against my cock, his touch feather-light yet confident. My hips jerked forward instinctively, seeking more pressure.
“Eager,” he murmured into my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “I like that.”
His hand wrapped around my shaft fully now, and I couldn’t help the moan that escaped me. It had been so damn long since anyone butmyself had touched me this way. The sensation was almost overwhelming. The feeling of his slightly calloused palm was still softer than my own work-roughened hands, but so much more intense.
“God, Rowan,” I breathed, my head falling back against his shoulder as he began to stroke me with agonizing slowness.
“I’ve imagined this,” he confessed, his voice rough and low. “Every time I’d see you on your ranch, the way your jeans hugged your ass when you’d stand there watching me work…” His grip tightened slightly, thumb swiping over my tip and spreading the pre-cum he found there. “Drove me crazy wondering what you’d feel like in my hand.”
I turned my head, seeking his mouth blindly, needing the connection. Our lips met in a messy, desperate kiss as his hand worked me steadily. I reached back, tangling my fingers in his short brown hair, pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss. His tongue swept into my mouth as his hand quickened its pace, and I felt myself already edging toward release.
“Wait,” I gasped, breaking the kiss. “I don’t want to... not yet.”
Rowan slowed his movements, his lips curving into a smile against my neck. “Whatever you want, cowboy. We’ve got all night.” His teeth grazed my earlobe, sending a shiver down my spine. “This blizzard isn’t letting up anytime soon.”
I shifted in his arms, turning to face him despite the twinge in my ankle. His eyes, those deep green pools that had caught my attention the first day he’d arrived in Sagebrush, watched me with a mixture of hunger and patience.
“I want to touch you too,” I admitted, my voice rougher than I’d intended.
Rowan guided my hand to his cock, wrapping my fingers around his thickness. “Like this,” he murmured, showing me the pressure he liked, the rhythm that made his breath catch. The feel of him, hot and silky-smooth yet rock-hard beneath my palm, sent a jolt of electricity through my entire body.
“Fuck,” I whispered, mesmerized by the way his cock twitched in my grip. I stroked experimentally, watching his face for reactions, learning what made his breath hitch and his hips thrust upward.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, his voice strained. “Just likethat.”
Emboldened by his response, I shifted my position, ignoring the twinge in my ankle as I moved down his body. I wanted to taste him, to feel the weight of him on my tongue. It had been so long, but the desire overrode any hesitation I might have felt.
Rowan seemed to read my mind. His hand came to rest on my shoulder, neither pushing nor pulling. “You don’t have to?—”
“I want to,” I cut him off, my voice firm despite the nervous flutter in my chest. “I really want to.”
Rowan’s eyes darkened as he watched me position myself between his thighs. The firelight danced across his tanned skin, highlighting the definition of his muscles and casting shadows that made him look like something out of a dream. I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how inexperienced I must seem to him.
