They rode along the streambed, skirting the Morgan’s Run stables and heading up into the hills. Beth watched Lang’s lanky, strong frame as he sat very comfortably astride Jaybo Dillon’s gorgeous chocolate morgan, Dandy. Tenderfoot indeed. Horse and rider moved as one as they climbed the south rise.
“I believe you were fibbing a bit, Lang Dillon. You look like you’re ready for the rodeo.”
“That’s a hoot,” he called over his shoulder, not daring to look back for fear of sliding off and over the cliff.
“Well, you’re certainly more comfortable in the saddle than I am.”
The day had been brutally hot, but now, in late afternoon, cool breezes wafted over them. As they reached the top of the rise, magnificent views of the farm and verdant valley stretched south and west to the mountains beyond.
“I’d forgotten how beautiful it is out here.”
She nodded, bringing her horse up beside him. “It sure is. I try never to take it for granted. I always love the drive from brown, dusty Tucson, over the mountains to this.” Unlike her siblings, Beth had never wanted a horse of her own. Today, she rode Tara, one of the ranch’s gentle sorrel morgans. She reached forward and patted the horse’s neck, whispering, “Good girl.”
Lang gazed over at her. For the first time since he met her, Beth looked at peace. She wore faded jeans, a gray farm tee shirt, and a light beige canvas jacket, which she now had removed and tied round her waist. Her hair was tied back in loose braids, and strands framed her lovely face. “What do you think? We’ve been riding for a while. Wanta stop?”
“I think if we go a little further, there’s a nice spot for a picnic. Did you ever come this way as kids, to the swinging tree?”
Lang shook his head. “Don’t think so, but maybe.”
“It’s not much farther. Shall we shoot for that?”
“Lead the way, m’lady.” He reined Dandy back to let Tara pass by as they took the trail bordering the high meadows to the west. Often those meadows were dotted with sheep, but now the sheep grazed nearer the farm, and the fields were deserted save the tall grasses and wildflowers. Green and verdant, the meadows stretched as far as the eye could see to the mountains dotted with thousands of saguaro cactuses and scrub.
Finally, Beth pointed ahead to a towering desert willow that stood at the edge of the meadow. “What do you think?”
“Looks perfect to me, but where’s the swing?”
She laughed. “Long gone, but we’re gonna have to hang another once Emma gets ready to ride the trails. She’ll go crazy out here.”
“She’s a sweetheart,” he said, alighting and coming to help her down.
Beth smiled, “Yes, she is.”
While she was perfectly capable of dismounting on her own, Beth reached down and grasped his shoulder. As Lang gently took hold of her waist, she realized she was holding her breath and let it out in a whoosh. Oh, my, here we go.
Then they stood beside each other, each still holding on. “Hungry?” she asked.
“Starving.”
Beth was reluctant to let go and knew that with the slightest encouragement, he would draw her closer. Shyly she gazed up into his beautiful blue eyes, which held hers. “I’m glad we decided to do this.”
“Me, too.” His smile melted her heart, and her knees shook. One gentle hand reached up and cupped her cheek. “Beth, I’m going to let you take the lead here. We won’t do a thing unless you want to, unless you’re ready. Okay?”
In answer, she drew him closer and reached up on tiptoes to kiss him. The kiss grew deeper as their lips parted and each delved and teased. Lang lifted her, gently cupping a breast with one hand as she ran her fingers through his hair. “Would you make love to me?” she whispered. “Please?”
Her words threatened to send him over the edge. He answered huskily, “You honor me with your request, Beth Morgan, and you have to know, I’d like nothing better.”
“There’s a blanket,” she said breathlessly, pointing to Tara.
“I see it,” he replied, reaching back with one hand to pull the patchwork quilt down and throw it to the ground. Miraculously it spread out with only one corner folded over, plenty of room for them to lie down.
As he trailed kisses along her neck, Lang gently unclasped her bra and in one fluid motion lifted it and her tee shirt over her head. Her eyes were open, taking in his every motion, breathless yet serene. She began unbuttoning his shirt, which he threw off, allowing her access to his lean, chiseled chest. Her hands, then her lips moved down, slowly tracing a trail to his jeans. He was rock hard, his manhood pressed against her body. Her hands caressed him, growing bolder and less gentle as they moved together.
“You’re going to send me straight over the edge, Beth Morgan,” he said, fingers moving down to unbutton her jeans. She laughed and kicked out of her boots, all the while caressing and rubbing, kissing him everywhere.
After both had slipped out of jeans and underclothes, he lifted her, placing her gently down on the quilt. “Is it okay if I make love to you everywhere, sweetheart?”
Beth nodded, too choked up and breathless to speak.
“Relax,” he said, kissing her deeply, then trailing kisses down her neck, teasing and sucking at her nipples, then moving lower to her belly. His warm hands parted her legs, and he slipped fingers inside her warm wetness. “You’re ready for me, aren’t you, darlin’?”
She nodded, expected him to slip on the condom and plunge into her. Instead, his lips and tongue soon traveled down to replace his fingers as he licked, sucked, and teased her, finding her most sensitive places as he brought her to crashing, blinding climax. “Oh, oh, oh,” she cried, serenity gone in the heat of her ecstasy.
He leaned back, gazing down at her. “Again?”
Beth shook her head, and her arms reached up and circled his neck. “I want you inside me, Lang Dillon, now. Please, please, please.”
He grinned, thinking she had never looked more beautiful. “Your wish is my command, m’lady.”
As he leaned down and kissed her deeply, Lang slipped on the condom and plunged into her. Home, he thought. I’m home for the first time in my life. It was the last coherent thought he had as they thrust together, a gentle rhythmic coupling that reached deeper and deeper until they moved as one. “Oh, Beth, oh, Beth,” he moaned, losing what sanity remained as they reached a thundering climax together.
Afterwards, Lang rolled to his side, careful to hold her tightly, staying inside her, never wanting to let her go. She was smiling, tears in her eyes. “Sweetheart, are you okay?” She nodded and he kissed her nose, then each eye, hoping to dry her tears.
They lay in the warmth of each other’s arms for a long time until he said, “I don’t ever want to let you go.”
She brushed hair from his forehead and gave him a lopsided grin. “You mean they’ll find us here, starved to death, but never parted?”
“There are worse ways to go.” He nuzzled her neck, sending shivers down her back.
“Hmm,” she said, hand moving down his side to his hard, lean buttocks. As she did, she felt him harden inside her. “Think that condom’s still intact?”
“Absolutely,” he said, pulling her closer, thrusting gently at first as she joined him, their journey to climax slower at first, then reaching a crescendo that obliterated all thought save their urgent, insatiable need for each other.
This time, they fell asleep and woke as the sun was beginning to set. Beth stirred first and shivered, her back exposed to the cool evening air. “Hey,” she whispered, nuzzling his neck.
He gave her a sleepy grin, then woke fully. “Oh, darling, you’re freezing. Here.” He slipped out of her and wrapped the quilt around her as both began rummaging around for their clothes.
When fully dressed, they smoothed out the quilt, grabbed the food and drink, and settled beside each other, suddenly shy and awkward.
“Wine, my dear?” Lang asked as he unwrapped two glasses and uncorked a pinot noir.
Beth nodded, taking sandwiches out of the saddle bag, thinking she felt more relaxed and happy than she had in a very long time. Maybe things had gone sour with Bill long before she found Skyler Blake in her bed?