The Rancher's Surrender

Chapter 15

So much for him claiming this woman as his own. Zoe was doing that for him.

She reached for the hem of his sticky shirt. Pulled it over his head. Stared in wide wonder at his bared chest, letting out an appreciative breath that made him laugh shakily.

"You're so beautiful," she whispered.

He did the same, pulled off her shirt, and was equally awed. "Not like you." His voice was thick with need, and he was surprised he could speak at all. "I want you, Zoe. I want you skin to skin, beneath me. I want to hear you cry my name as I sink into you." Her eyes darkened to a forest green, her breath quickened. "I want you wild for me," he whispered. "Only me. Always only me."

Now fear flared in her again, mixing with her need, and he didn't care because this kind of fear he could assuage. Once again he drew her close, slipping his hands down her bare sides, his thumbs flirting with the curves of her breasts. "I want you to want me back, to give me everything you have. One hundred percent of you, the real you."

Even in a haze of desire, she understood every word, which only increased her fear. She had hurt him by holding back and he needed to know, in this one area at least, that she would give all. But she herself was just beginning to know the real Zoe. How could she share that woman? "Ty-"

His fingers played with the front clasp of her bra.

"Um… Ty?"

The clasp fell open.

"I…"

"What, sweetheart?" His hands found her bare breasts and every thought danced right out of her head.

She wanted skin to skin, too. She wanted to be beneath him. She wanted to go wild, right here, right now, because in Ty's arms she was everything she wanted to be. He could make her feel loving, warm, wonderful… a somebody. In his arms she was a passionate, hungry, beautiful woman, and she liked it.

She surged forward and kissed him, and it wasn't sweet or tender. It was hot, deep and full of need. She jerked him closer, then closer still, until she could feel every sticky, powerful muscle of him. She could feel his hard length behind the buttons on his jeans, and when she slid against it as he had done to her earlier, he moaned low in his throat, a sound that thrilled her.

"Be sure." His voice was gritty, harsh.

He was barely holding on to his control, and Zoe's excitement surged. She'd never been more sure of anything in her life. "Now, Ty. Please, now."

He pressed her back against the counter. His expression was fierce, nearly violent. "All of you," he demanded. "This time, all of you." He wasn't talking about her body now, but he'd take that, too.

"Yes."

Her simple acquiescence fueled him. Lifting her left leg up and around his waist, he pressed himself intimately against her, making her gasp. His eyes flared as he slid himself against her slowly in a mimic of what he really wanted to do. His tongue teased hers, his hands streaked over her. The rhythm of his hips drove her to the very edge, making her dizzy and overwhelmingly out of control. Consumed by heat, crazed for more of this sampling of true passion and undeniable need, she dragged him down to the floor.

"Zoe." His voice was so rough and grainy she hardly recognized it. "Not here," he managed to say, pulling away. "God. Not on the floor, not the first time. Let me-"

"No." She couldn't let reason intrude, and it would if she let him stop now to take her to bed. She wrapped her jeans-clad legs around his waist, holding him, pressing herself against his rigid heat.

He went still, every muscle tense, his eyes glittering. And when he would have spoken again, she slid against that same spot. "Please, Ty."

He growled as his restraint broke. Reaching for her jeans, he nearly tore them off as he dragged them down her legs. His tongue blazed a trail from her jaw down over her neck, licking at any lingering cream he found, making a low sound of approval in his throat as he went. He found the sensitive spot behind her ear, at the hollow of her throat, at the edge of her collarbone. And finally, oh finally, the taut, aching tip of her nipple, which he took into his warm mouth, sucking deeply until she was arching and writhing and rolling her hips, unable to catch her breath.

His hands stroked her, soothed and tormented all at once, until she felt as though she were on fire, sensations and emotions ripping her apart as she'd never felt before. His fingers stroked her thighs, shifting them open to touch her moist, creamy center, which he purposely and slowly traced with his finger. "Please, please…" she gasped over and over, mindlessly unaware of what she was saying.

But Ty knew, and he understood the fire. He'd wanted her like this, consumed and beyond all reason. Only he hadn't expected that fire to be his, too.

She was wet, hot and all his, and it was all he could do to keep from sinking into her, burying himself deep and taking them over the edge with just one stroke.

Impatient with his pace, Zoe surged up and yanked on his jeans, tearing at them until he helped. "Tell me you replaced the condoms for new ones," she gasped.

He had, and she got yet another first that night-rolling one on, which was such a turn-on they were both sweating by the time she had finished. They rolled over the floor, kissing, stroking, nipping, licking… moaning.

He tucked her beneath him, holding her face in his hands as he looked down at her with a hungry tenderness. "Zoe… sweetheart… is this your first time?"

She laughed breathlessly, both exhilarated and embarrassed. "I'm not a virgin, but-I've never…"

"Had an orgasm?"

She reddened at his characteristic bluntness and nodded.

"You'll come for me," he promised in a thrilling whisper. "Soon."

He rolled again, taking her with him. On his back on the linoleum, Ty lifted her up to straddle him. She felt… exposed. "Bend down a little," he coaxed. "Yeah, like that. Just like that." And he took a breast into his mouth, teasing the aching peak with his nimble tongue. Her hips moved restlessly against his, brushing against him until he groaned her name. "Take me," he murmured, his hands on her hips, urging her. "Zoe, take me."

She hesitated a moment, which nearly killed him, then she was sinking, sliding down on him one slow inch at a time, until he was buried deep. They both let out a gratified sigh.

Gripping his shoulders, she dropped her head so that he was draped in her beautiful, wild hair. She stared at where they were joined, and she went utterly still.

She had changed her mind and he was going to die. Right here on the floor, still coated in whipped cream and covered by Zoe.

"It's… so…" Experimentally she shifted, staring at him now, her eyes so dark they were black. "It's… oh, Ty, it's amazing," She closed her eyes. Her head fell back now, her body arched, her breasts thrust out. "Don't stop."

"Never," he promised, but "never" came far too soon as she slowly rocked her hips on him. He was shaking with the urge to grab her hips and thrust deep, but he wanted the pace to be hers, wanted to see her shatter over him. With his thumb, he stroked her slowly. She gasped. Her breathing came in short, little pants. Her hips rocked faster, then faster. She whispered his name, her eyes flying open to gaze at him in wonder, in an open way that allowed him to see into her soul.

He lost it then, gripping her hips, plunging into her until she moaned his name again, until she convulsed and shuddered and came over him in a mind-shattering explosion that triggered his own.

His heart thundered beneath her ear. His skin stuck to her. Though it took every last bit of energy she had, she smiled.

"I'm not sure anything about that was amusing," Ty managed to say, his hand caressing her back where she lay collapsed on him in a trembling, contented heap.

"I'm thinking it was the whipped cream that did it for me," Zoe said. "You know… the missing ingredient." Embarrassment hit her then, because her admission that what they'd just shared had beat anything in her experience seemed naive. "I mean-"

"I know what you mean." His hand came up to cup her cheek. His other arm snugged her closer against him, a protective, possessive gesture that somehow warmed her. All trace of humor was gone when he answered, "And it wasn't the whipped cream, Zoe. It's us."

Commitment terrified her, that hadn't changed with their little kitchen romp. No matter how wild, how hot, how soul-shattering it had been for her, she still couldn't find the words to tell him he was right.

She didn't make promises. They were meant to be broken. And he'd made none himself.

Beneath her, he sighed, stroked her back once more, then sat up with her still against him.

The kitchen light was suddenly harsh, and Zoe was far too naked.

Ty rose to his feet, jaw tight and eyes sad. He picked up her T-shirt, shook his head at the whipped cream clinging to it and reached for a soft plaid shirt that lay across the back of one of his kitchen chairs.

"Here." Gentle hands belied the gruffness of his voice as he dressed her, even buttoning the shirt for her. When the backs of his fingers brushed against her skin, she sucked in her breath in response, her nipples hardening yet again.

A muscle in his cheek twitched at the sight, but he didn't say a word, just handed over her jeans.

It was a shock to see him standing there completely, gloriously nude. Silly, after what they'd just shared, but she was completely unprepared for the "after," especially when he looked so casual-and magnificent-in the buff.

She'd known he was perfectly made, she'd spent many covert moments watching his tough, rugged body as he worked outside on the two ranches these past weeks. But without clothes… wow. He was hard, lean, his shoulders broad, his torso long. Her eyes continued downward, then halted abruptly, startled.

He was aroused again.

Caught staring, she brought her gaze up to his wryly amused one. She thought of the other condom.

Behind his amusement was a wealth of hurt, hurt that she'd put there. She turned away to slip on her shoes. "I'm sorry."

"Regrets already." His voice was carefully blank, nothing like the husky one that only moments before had been whispering sexy promises in her ear.

The only regret she had at the moment was ruining this magical time with him, but she had no idea how to get that languid, deliciously relaxed feeling back. No idea what to do or say.

So she stood there, facing the back door with her arms wrapped around herself in growing misery.

"Safe to look," he said, and when she turned, she saw that he'd pulled on his jeans, leaving off his whipped-cream-covered T-shirt. He was holding his keys.

"I'll walk," she said quickly.

"No you won't." He opened the door for her. The Idaho night was dark and unforgiving. Unrelenting. And for the first time since she'd arrived in this state, she resented it.

Ty needed to use his frustration and anger to his advantage, needed to turn it into energy. Energy worked for him, it allowed him to do instead of think, because if he started thinking he might go mad.

He had promised himself he'd be patient with Zoe, that he'd show her in actions how he felt, which were far better than promises she wouldn't believe, anyway.

But even those actions hadn't been enough.

He'd rushed her.

And even knowing that, he couldn't pull back. The more he was with her, the more he wanted, and the wanting was a burning, undeniable need.

But he was the only one wanting and needing, and that hurt.

It had to stop. He had a job to do, and for now it would be enough. It had to be.

Strangely enough, in the midst of all this turmoil over Zoe, he felt more in peace thinking about Ben than he ever had, and he knew that was because he'd talked about Ben and felt better. The dream that had haunted him would serve another purpose, one they hadn't intended, but a good one nevertheless. Ben would have loved the idea of the guest ranch.

The morning after the whipped cream fight he would never forget-and he doubted he'd ever look at whipped cream the same way again-Ty rose before dawn, completed some chores, got his ranch hands and trainers set up for a day's work. Then he headed over to Triple M.

He had a guest ranch to prepare.

He told himself it didn't matter what Zoe said or did this morning, he would act normal. If she wanted to pretend that the wildest, hottest, most soul-shattering lovemaking hadn't happened only hours before, fine.

He could pretend with the best of them.

He hoped she was as miserable as he. That she hadn't slept any more than he had, which was all of about three minutes.

When he discovered Zoe was still in bed, his disposition didn't improve.

"What do you mean she's not up yet?" he asked Maddie, who handed him a mug of steaming coffee.

"She's… ah… pretty miserable." Maddie glanced upward and lifted a shoulder. "I think she's hungover, to tell you the truth. She's not used to drinking."

"Hmm." He set down his coffee and headed for the hallway door.

"Ty, where are you going?" Maddie called out, alarmed. "She's in a bear of a mood. Ty! Come back here, you'll get your head bitten off."

"Don't worry, Maddie," he called back over his shoulder. "She's crazy about me."

He found her in bed. She was a burrower, he thought. Not even an inch of her showed from beneath her covers. Just her thick auburn hair. The hair he'd thought to see spread across his pillow this morning.

God, just looking at her made his heart ache, and that really ticked him off. She should be in his bed, under his covers, burrowed up against him.

Shutting and locking her bedroom door behind him, he moved to the bed, intending to rudely rip the covers off and demand she get up and work.

So they could both suffer.

Instead, he found himself sinking to the mattress and dipping a hand beneath the covers, just to touch her. To feel her warm, soft, giving body, just once more.

He found her body, all right, and smooth, bare skin.

Beneath the quilt she was completely nude.

Groaning, he leaned over her, his mouth hovering close to her ear. "Get up, Zoe. There's work to do." In contrast to his rough words, his hand smoothed down over her shoulder, down her side to her hip, squeezing gently.

Zoe made a soft noise and turned onto her back. Which put his hand low on her belly. He glanced at her face, but she was still sleeping deeply, with her body warm and silky beneath his fingers. God. He inched down until his palm was filled with her and found her damp. He groaned again, sucking gently on her ear.

"Ty…" she mumbled. "Don't go."

"I won't," he said, thinking she'd woken.

But she hadn't, she was still out. "Don't desert me, too," she murmured.

In that moment, his heart shattered. So much for his resolve to stay away from her. "I won't, Zoe… I promise."

A promise. Oh Lord, he was in deep now.

Another sigh escaped her, a deeper one, and her legs opened as she pressed herself into his hand.

It was too much. He was just a man. A very weak, red-blooded man who was about ready to explode from just touching her. "Zoe," he whispered, half hoping she'd wake up and shove him away.

Instead she arched up, and he was a goner. Sliding one finger into her, he leaned closer and kissed her mouth, his tongue plunging in tune to his moving hand.

Making soft mewling noises that nearly undid him, Zoe gripped him tight, writhing against him, rocking her hips, gasping, melting… then shuddering, shuddering, shuddering.

Hot and dying, Ty kept on touching her until she quieted, thinking he hadn't felt so out of control without being touched himself since he'd been a teenager.

Her eyes flew open and she stared at him, her breathing harsh and uneven.

It took a moment for those eyes to clear completely, but when they did, she shot straight up, clutching the blanket to herself. Mute, she stared at him, blinking uncertainly.

He wondered if she was hoping she'd dreamed the entire thing and he was just hot enough, just miserable enough to not be kind. "I don't suppose you'd think it was my turn now."

Her eyes closed. Her face went beet-red. And he felt marginally better, but his jeans were still far too tight.

Zoe's hands went up to her head. "I think my head is going to fall off."

Not exactly the romantic words he'd hoped for. But since her face had gone from red to green, he believed her.

She dropped her hands and looked at him. "I… I thought maybe I was dreaming…?"

Slowly he shook his head. "Not that last part, no."

She nodded, and her eyes fell to his lap and his very obvious arousal, then widened. Visibly, she swallowed. "Ty-"

"Get up, Zoe." His words were harsher than he'd intended as he rose, but dammit, he was frustrated beyond hell.

He tossed her a pair of jeans he found on the floor. "I'll be outside waiting. Hurry."

"I'll get there when I get there."

Seemed Sleeping Beauty had fully awoken and had sharpened her tongue. "Get there fast," he said calmly, meeting her gaze steadily. "Or I'll come back for you."

He shut her door behind him, grinning when he heard something hit the other side of the door, right about head-level.

It hit with the solid thunk of a brand-new boot.

Zoe showed up relatively quickly, which surprised Ty. He thought she might have stayed back dwelling on things, stalling, doing whatever it was a woman did while she pouted.

But she came outside in less than half an hour, not a sulk in sight. The sun lit her hair like fire as she walked toward him, looking more beautiful than any heartbreaker had a right to look. Her slim body was encased in jeans and yet another T-shirt, void of whipped cream. She was wearing her new boots and her gloves. She looked comfortable, confident and well suited for the beautiful but harsh environment of ranching.

Pride flowed through him at her versatility. At her resilience.

She came close, and he saw that her eyes were red.

Dammit. "You've been crying," he accused, tossing down his gloves and moving toward her with guilt and need and a million other things. "Not about what happened in your bed-"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Zoe-"

She lifted her chin but didn't quite meet his gaze. "Back off, Ty. This is work. Where do we start?" She saw the cans of paint. "At the cottages?"

He lifted her chin in his cupped hand. "Tell me why you were crying."

Not surprisingly, she slapped his hand away. "It's nothing." When she whirled away from him, he saw the folded piece of paper sticking out her back pocket, and not knowing why, he grabbed it.

She went wild, leaping at him, tackling him down to the hard ground-which happened to be wet, dammit-clawing and reaching to get the paper he perversely held just out of reach.

"Gee, I guess it has something to do with this," he drawled from flat on his back. She was straddling him, leaning over his body so that her breasts just grazed his chest. Rather than groan and crush her to him, which he nearly did on instinct, he grinned up into her face. "You sure like to be on top."

"Give it back."

At her pale, drawn, panicked expression he lost all ability to tease her. Holding her firmly to him, he sat up and handed back the folded paper.

Startled at his compliance, she took it. Her legs were around his hips, her bottom snugged to his crotch. An erotically shattering position, and yet it was suddenly so much more than that. Gently he put his hands to her hips, lightly squeezing. "What is it, Slim? Can't you tell me?"

Her eyes filled but the tears didn't spill. She hesitated, then shoved the letter at him. Staring at her, he slowly took it, opened it, then scanned the letter.

It was a short note from Cade, and it had been faxed to the new machine they'd bought to make guest reservations easier.

Dear Zoe,

So sorry, I know all this waiting and wondering is difficult for you. I have some news, small as it is. Your mother was indeed allowed to come and get you for visitation as you thought. Why she never did is a mystery to all involved. She never called, as you'd suspected. And she never wrote. In fact, from the day you were dropped off, she never checked in. Not once.

I'll keep searching for her, Zoe, and I know I'll find something soon.

Your friend, Cade.

Ty read the words, his throat tightening on each word. Here it was in black and white for Zoe to see and deal with for the first time.

She'd indeed been orphaned, purposely and cruelly. And apparently, without the least bit of regret.

"Zoe, I'm sorry-"

She jerked off of him and to her feet. Crossing her arms over herself, she shrugged, refusing to look at him. "Don't be."

"But I am-"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, of course it does-"

"I already knew all that stuff, anyway. She dumped me. No big deal."

If he touched her, she was going to break. Normally he'd be running-hell, he'd be flying-as far from a crying female as he could get. His mother had used tears a lot; he'd long ago become immune to such things.

Yet Zoe's tears were different-she didn't do it to manipulate or twist or hurt. She hated crying, he knew she did. Watching her struggle now, trying to hide them from him as she swiped at her eyes, did something to him, made him want to slay beasts and hold back entire armies. But the only dragon was Zoe's mental block wall and he had no means to tear it down.

He reached out, needing to fix this for her somehow. "Zoe, sweetheart-"

"No." She held up a hand, backed another step and shook her head violently. "No. I'm fine. I… am just fine. I don't want to talk about it."

"Is there anything we can talk about?"

"Look, it's over, okay? My mother dumped me, and I know that. It was dumb to want to find her. Now, can we work?"

And for the rest of the day, she refused to speak about it. About anything that made her feel.