Carrying the Rancher's Heir / Secret Son, Convenient Wife: Carrying the Rancher's Heir / Secret Son, Convenient Wife. Charlene Sands
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curving up from her waist, shadowing the V between her long shapely legs. He rid himself of his briefs and Callie beckoned him with a look at his manhood, her gaze bright with anticipation, ready for their long sexy ride.
Tagg reached into the bedside drawer and came up with a condom packet.
A tremble ran through Callie’s body. She stared at the silver packet as Tagg ripped it open. They didn’t need protection. They’d already made a baby. But Tagg didn’t know that and the cold, hard reality came crashing down on her. Guilt coiled in her stomach and pounded in her brain. What was she doing? She hated deceiving Tagg. Hated that the condom itself signified her deception. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him. To lay out the truth, that she’d conceived a baby with him in Reno. That she’d been lying to him all along.
Could she be that brave? Could she ease her guilt and own up to her pregnancy? Tagg was going to be a father, yet she had withheld that information from him for weeks. One little mistake, one slip of the tongue and she could lose Tagg forever. If she told him now would it be all over between them, before it really had a chance of beginning?
She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes, wishing that everything would just turn out okay. Somehow. She needed a miracle, but she wasn’t that big an optimist to believe she’d be granted one.
The bedsheets rustled and she sunk into the mattress when he lay down beside her. His warm breath caressed her cheek. “Callie? Did you go somewhere?”
He smelled of whiskey and lust and Callie’s body reacted, her bare nipples pebbled at the sound of his voice. She opened her eyes. He was there, his beautiful face against hers, his nose in her hair, breathing in her scent.
“I’m here, Tagg,” she whispered, losing her nerve. She couldn’t tell him. She had to give them more time. It wasn’t selfish on her part, she told herself. The baby’s future was at stake. Was it so wrong to hold out for the brass ring? To hope that given time, Tagg would come to love her? Was it so wrong to hope for a happy ending?
He nibbled on her throat, his lips drawing moist circles all the way down to the hollow between her breasts. “That’s good. Stay with me.”
That’s what she intended. To stay with Tagg. To be his for the rest of her life. But at the moment, the goal seemed out of reach and the guilt she felt also stayed with her. Even as he kissed her. Even as he ran his hands along her body, making her moan with pleasure. Even as he parted her thighs and stroked her with deft fingers, until her first orgasm slammed into her with enough force to make her cry out.
“You came so quickly,” Tagg said with a note of male satisfaction.
Callie let go of her mental fight and gave herself up to physical bliss. Her remorse would have to wait. She was with Tagg, naked on his bed, and there wasn’t anywhere else she’d rather be. She gave him a little shove and he fell onto his back, a deep chuckle coming up from his throat.
“You do that so easily to me,” she whispered.
“You saying you’re easy?”
Callie lifted up on her knees and straddled his lower legs. She took his penis in her hand. “Only with you.”
Tagg gazed into her eyes. His were pure liquid fire as she stroked his erection. “Nice to know,” he gritted out.
Callie loved bringing him satisfaction. Tagg’s grunts of approval as she slid her hand up and down his shaft again brought shivers of heat to her body. She wasn’t through with Tagg. She’d make love to him all night.
She watched his face twist and contort with pent up desire as her hand ran up and over the length of him, her thumb pressing the sensitive tip. A rumble emanated in his throat and Callie smiled. “Let’s see how easy you are.” She bent her head and licked the moisture off with long fluid strokes, circling the tip like she would an ice cream cone.
Then she took him into her mouth.
His body stiffened; his erection went rock hard. She set her hands on his thighs and drank him in. She sensed his eyes on her, watching. She remembered from the last time they’d been together that Tagg never closed his eyes during sex. He liked to watch. It turned him on. Through the curtain of her hair resting on his belly, she looked up and their eyes met for an instant. The delicious expression on his face stilled her. She loved him so much that she physically ached. All she could do was show him. She slipped his erection back into her mouth and loved him with her tongue. She stroked him with both hands until she knew the exact moment he was ready for release.
They were in sync that way.
She moved off him slightly. He grabbed the unnecessary packet, ripping it open and she helped him slide it down onto his erection. He reached for her then, lifting her up on her knees so that she was directly over him. With skilled hands, he guided her hips down and impaled her with his swollen shaft.
“Tagg,” she breathed out. The first initial thrust filled the tip of her. She wanted more. She moved on him then, undulating her hips, grasping him, letting him fill her slowly, taking in one pleasurable inch at a time. He felt so good, so warm, so right. She’d dreamed about this, about having him inside her again, feeling his body rock under hers.
She heard him curse in a way that brought a smile to her lips. He watched her, she knew, and that turned her on as well. She sank farther down, taking him in fully, and moved without thinking now, lifting her hair off her shoulders and letting it fall back down again. His eyes followed the flow of her hair. And then she touched her breasts for him, cupping them slightly, fingering the pebbled peaks once, twice. His eyes glistened with deep hunger and his expression was pure sin.
She rode him hard, sinking and lifting, both of them uttering deep throaty sounds of pleasure. She moved faster now, with his encouragement, the pressure building inside her. He reached for her breasts and caressed her with his palms, rubbing the insides of his hands over her nipples. The contrast of rough to delicate sent shooting jolts of electricity through her body. She loved his hands on her. She loved him touching her.
“Stay with me, Callie,” he whispered, barely getting the words out. “We’re … almost there.”
They were close. So close. “Hurry, Tagg.”
It was all he needed to hear. Splaying his fingers out, he grabbed her waist and pushed her down onto his shaft harder than she could have alone. He filled her completely now and took control, thrusting up with potent, powerful force. It felt good to let go, to give in to him fully and take the sexy ride.
“I’m ready,” she moaned, holding back the waves that wanted to shatter within her.
He lifted his body, coming half off the bed, and held her bottom with both hands, moving her forward and back hard, harder. Then with one last deep, powerful thrust, their release came, together, forcefully, each of them huffing out guttural sounds of completion.
He held her tight until the last shreds of pleasure were wrought out of both. It was beautiful and satisfying, but now that it was over, Callie couldn’t look him in the eye for fear of him seeing her every emotion.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She nodded, then swallowed, but words wouldn’t come.
He kissed a path up her throat, working his way to her mouth. She kept her face turned away.
He put a finger under her chin and applied slight pressure to turn her toward him. She met his gaze finally. “Are you sure?”
She noted the concern in his eyes and managed to answer, “Yes.”
He let go a relieved sigh, cradling her to his body. “That was pretty damn good.”
She nodded again.
“Callie?”
“Just … good?” she blurted. She was in love with him and had given up her head and her heart for just good. It wasn’t about sex for her. It was about feelings and emotions and love. While she knew she should be thrilled and delighted that they’d made love, she