Chapter 4

Rem leaned back in the office chair and sighed heavily. He studied the top of the desk, finally empty of the clutter that had covered it when he'd first come home. As he sat in the chair, he was struck by the impression that he was trying to fill his father's large shoes and for the millionth time, he wondered if his father would be proud of his efforts.

Then his thoughts drifted to Liv. He knew she still questioned his commitment to her. He could feel her holding a large part of herself back, away from him, afraid to offer her heart, her love to the man who'd left her alone for so many years. Night after night he held her, loved her, whispered the words he prayed would reassure her, convince her, but each morning she left their bed quiet, reserved, uncertain.

"I thought I heard you come in," Liv said from the doorway to the office. He glanced up to see her standing in a short skirt and tank top. He'd been home nearly two months and the image of her still caused his heart to skip a beat or two whenever she walked into the room.

"I just got in, I rode the property line with— Jesus, you look hot in that. Come in here and lock the door."

She giggled at his stern, demanding words but obeyed nonetheless. As independent and headstrong as she was out of the bedroom, Rem never ceased to be amazed by her willing submissiveness in the bedroom.

"You know, I might have to start giving some serious thought to making you an honest-to-God housewife. Keep you in those pretty skirts all day long."

She shrugged nonchalantly. "You're certainly welcome to try. So long as you don't have some big hang-up about failing miserably. Besides, so much for your theory of locking me in the house to keep me safe."

"What happened?" he asked.

"I burned my finger while Bridget and I were baking pies." She held her index finger out to him as she approached the desk and he chuckled.

"Oh well, by all means, go back to breaking in the new horses and stay the hell out of the kitchen. I had no idea it was so treacherous in there." He grasped her hand and kissed her sore finger before sucking the digit into his mouth seductively.

She laughed and pulled her hand away. "Sex, sex, sex," she said. "You are in serious danger of becoming terribly predictable, Mr. Bradley."

"Guess I'll just have to start incorporating more variety into our bedroom play."

"Shit. You incorporate too much more variety and I swear I'll spontaneously combust."

He narrowed his eyes at her naughty word, thinking her ready to do some of that combusting right now but she shook her head.

"Down boy," she teased. "What were you thinking about when I walked in?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that was a pretty heavy look on your face. Is something bothering you?"

He shook his head. He hadn't discussed his father since his first night home when Liv had confessed her guilt over driving him away. He hoped he'd convinced her that her feelings were unfounded and wrong. He and his father had been at odds since the first day he'd learned to talk back.

"It's nothing," he said, trying to figure out a way to evade the conversation. His misery had taken root this morning as he rode out and looked at his family's ranch and realized he'd let his father and Liv down in so many ways.

"Tell me," she pleaded, perching herself on the side of the desk.

He sighed. "Being back here has brought up a lot of memories of my dad. A lot of regrets I thought I'd learned to deal with."

"Regrets?" she asked, her eyes worried.

"Liv, I know you think you're to blame for the rift between me and Dad, but you couldn't be more wrong. For quite a few years, you eased the tension that was always between us. When you and Jeb moved in, things were quieter, easier."

"Until that summer," she whispered.

"I didn't leave because of that kiss. I'd been to the Marine recruiting office the week before. And I didn't leave because I was trying to get away from you. Well, not entirely for that reason. You were too young. After all we've done together in bed, I think you can understand why."

She blushed and he knew she'd caught his drift. His bedroom habits hadn't evolved much over the years. He'd always been a dominating bastard in the sack. It was a part of his makeup he'd given up trying to hide or make excuses for.

"Then why did you leave?" she asked.

"Because I was trying to get away from my dad. Trying to escape the heavy feeling of always being such a big disappointment to him."

"Disappointment?"

"Nothing I did was ever good enough for him. My grades in school were mediocre. He hated the whole idea of the rodeo as much as you do. Then I screwed things up with you and left for the Marines, leaving him to run the ranch alone, rather than working beside him the way a good son would have."

"A good son?"

He stopped talking and looked up at her, frustrated by her continual questions. "Are you going to keep repeating everything I say back to me?"

"I will until you start making some fucking sense," she shot back.

He narrowed his eyes but she poked him in the chest. "I don't give a shit about my damn gutter mouth right now. You've lost your mind, Rem. You honestly think your father wasn't proud of you every single day of your life?"

"Liv, I appreciate your comments, but the truth of the matter is?—"

She exploded next to him and he reeled back to escape her wrath as she swung her fist toward him. "And all these years I thought Jeb was the dumbass! Wait here."

She disappeared out the office door and was gone for several minutes, leaving him to wonder what the hell he'd said to make her so angry. When she returned, she was carrying a large book.

"Where did you get that?" he asked when she placed the dusty thing on the desk in front of him.

"Your dad's room."

"What is it?" he asked.

"See for yourself," she replied, flipping open the front cover.

As Rem flipped the pages, he watched himself grow up again as he found every success in his life celebrated in the scrapbook his father had made for him. Pictures of his little league team holding the county trophy, all the ribbons and certificates he'd accumulated in too many damn years of 4-H and FFA, a picture of him at graduation, newspaper clippings of his results—good and bad—in the rodeos he'd participated in, a letter of merit from the Marines.

"And then there are these." Liv slapped a stack of letters in front of him, tied together neatly with string. "Every letter you ever wrote him. One letter, every two weeks, like clockwork. Joe waited for those letters like some folks wait for their next meal. He was hungry for them and when they arrived, he quoted from them chapter and verse to anyone who would listen to him. I've never seen a father more proud of his son."

"I didn't know. He never said?—"

"Christ, Rem. You were never here more than a few days at a time and when you were, you went out and worked the ranch from morning to night like you had something to prove. Besides, it's not like your dad was the most affectionate guy in the world. I mean, that man loved me like I was his own daughter and I felt that emotion all the way to the soles of my feet, but he never, ever said it. There are some things you just have to know, to feel, in here." She tapped his chest, directly over his heart.

Rem nodded, feeling as if he'd been run over by a train. His father had been proud of him, loved him. No one could look at this scrapbook and not feel that love.

"And I'll tell you something else," Liv said smugly. He fought back a grin at her too-pleased face. The woman loved to be right. "Your father knew you loved him too."

He frowned as he considered that fact. He'd never said those words either. Hell, he'd been a distant prick most of the times they were together. It was that fact he'd regretted most when he'd learned of his father's sudden death. "How did he know?"

"You wrote him letters, Rem. Twice a month for ten years. What son does that if he doesn't care for and respect his father? These letters were your way of showing him the things you couldn't say to his face. This scrapbook was his way of showing you."

"He loved me," he whispered, hearing the words and believing them for the first time in his life.

"Wanna know something else?" she asked.

"I'm not sure I can handle too many more of your amazing revelations today," he joked, feeling happier than he had in years.

"You can handle this one." She bent down to kiss his lips before kneeling between his legs.

"Liv?"

"I love you—and I want you," she whispered as she unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. "Should I prove it to you? I mean, you seem to be big on visuals."

His brief spurt of laughter died the second she took him into her mouth, engulfing him to the back of her throat in two quick thrusts.

"Fuck," he muttered, his hands gripping her hair as she moved her lips, tongue and teeth against his hard flesh, working him to the brink of climax within moments.

"Not this way," he begged. "You. I have to be inside you."

She released him and grinned, rising to her feet. "Well, then hold on to your hat, cowboy, because we're going on a trail ride."

She lifted her skirt to her waist and he quickly discovered she wasn't wearing any panties. "Damn, baby. You are never getting your panties or jeans back."

She laughed as she straddled his lap, her legs hanging over the arms of the large office chair. He gripped her hips, pulling her into position, his head falling back as she slowly slid down on his erection.

He was only halfway in when he realized she was far tighter than she should be. "Liv?" His eyes narrowed as he moved his hands from her hips to the crack of her ass. His fingers found the thick butt plug lodged there and he groaned.

"Which plug is it, spitfire?"

"The big one," she whispered. He'd been personally filling her tight ass with the butt plugs daily, working to stretch her muscles.

"Dammit. You weren't ready for that yet," he said, his words ending with a moan as she sank two more inches onto his cock.

"I'm so ready for that," she said, kissing him as she pushed down, taking him into her completely.

He gripped her hips, planning to help her as she rode his cock, but his woman was a cowgirl, born and bred, and her years of riding bareback shone through. She moved on him like a seasoned rider and all too soon, he felt his climax threatening to erupt. She'd driven him to the boiling point with her mouth and now her sexy body had the kettle ready to blow.

"Aw dammit, Liv. I'm not going to last!"

"Thank God," she breathed against his cheek and he felt the first tremors of her climax begin. He let her drag him along, his hands digging into her hips, holding her tight against his cock as he came deep inside her, relishing the idea of filling her with his come. Soon, he was going to beg her to stop taking birth control so he could fill her up with his baby as well.

She laid her head upon his shoulder as he wrapped her snugly in his arms. He suspected they both dozed for a few minutes. He felt her move against him and he realized he was still inside her. That thought awakened another part of him and he felt her grin against his neck.

"Predictable," she teased.

He pushed her back but when he didn't return her smile, hers quickly faded to one of concern.

"Rem?"

"You've been a very bad girl, Liv." He ran his hands along her ass and touched the end of the butt plug to drive home exactly what he was referring to.

She squirmed on his lap as he encircled her waist with his hands, lifting her off the chair.

"Take off that shirt and lean over the desk."

She quickly whipped the thin tank top off and bent over the smooth surface as he ran his hands along her bare flesh. "I didn't give you permission to use that butt plug. In fact, I seem to recall saying that you weren't to use the plugs at all unless I put them in. Isn't that right?"

"Yes," she replied.

He toed off his shoes and finished pulling off the pants she'd only shoved down as far as his knees. She started to turn and watch but he halted her movement with strong words.

"Face the front," he yelled in his Marine voice and she jerked back around.

He shrugged his T-shirt off as well before continuing to stroke her ass. He could see her bracing herself for his spanking and he didn't disappoint her. He moved fast, building up strength with each blow until she was panting and he could see her body's juices glimmering on her inner thighs.

"Whose body is this?" he asked, pausing and caressing her heated flesh.

"Yours," she whispered.

"I can't hear you," he said, leaning over to speak into her ear.

"Yours, cowboy," she said louder, her voice filled with her usual humor and spunk. God, she was perfect.

His hands traveled along the globes of her ass until he reached her opening. His fingers touched the base of the butt plug and she instinctively started thrusting back toward him.

He slapped her ass again, once, hard. "Hold still."

She stopped moving and he returned to the plug, gripping the base and slowly pulling it out. She groaned as he dragged the toy free.

"Did it hurt when you put it in?" he asked, certain it had. He'd been purposely taking her down this road slowly. Perhaps he'd been going too slowly.

"A little," she confessed.

"Well," he said, reaching into the desk drawer and pulling out a bottle of lubrication. She'd laughed at him when she discovered he'd stashed lubrication and toys in a variety of places around the house and ranch. Two months in her presence had taught him it paid to be prepared. His patience never seemed to last too long. "I have a feeling this is going to hurt a little bit more."

He pushed the tip of the lubrication into the tight ring of muscle and squeezed, making sure there was enough to keep his cock moving freely. He was certain he'd never be able to hold back once he got inside her ass.

Once again she tried to thrust back and, again, he halted her with a strong smack. "You've got to stop trying to direct this, Liv."

"I'm trying," she gasped. "But you need to hurry up."

He chuckled at her impatience. They were birds of a feather.

When he felt comfortable that he'd applied enough lube, he leaned over her and kissed her cheek lightly. "Ready?"

"God yes," she whispered.

He lined his cock up with her ass and slowly began to push inside. Several times he felt her tense up and he stopped, kissing the back of her neck, whispering words of encouragement in her ear until she relaxed and he moved forward once more. His arms trembled as he held himself above her, willing himself to move in gradual increments. He loved this position and he had no doubt once he'd taken her ass, he'd want it again and again. It was important to him that she liked it too.

Finally, his hips hit her ass and he sucked in a deep breath of air. She felt as heavenly as he'd known she would.

"Okay?" he whispered in her ear.

"Mmm," she hummed and he could see she was lost in that sensual place she sometimes drifted to.

"Still with me, spitfire?" he teased.

"Sort of," she joked. "I'm fairly certain I've got one foot in heaven though. If you'd move—just a bit—I think I could make the leap all the way in."

"I think maybe I could manage to get both of us there." He reached into the drawer once more and pulled out a tiny vibrator.

"What's that?" she asked when she felt his hand probing for the opening to her pussy. If he'd been thinking with his brain rather than his dick, he'd have put the vibrator in first.

"A surprise," he said as he found her cunt, wet and ready. He pushed the tiny device inside then grabbed up the remote. He pushed the button on low then gritted his teeth as the vibrations massaged his cock through the thin membrane separating him from the toy.

"Shit," he muttered, fighting the impulse to fuck her the way he wanted to.

Go slow. Dear God, let me be able to go slow.

"Move," she gasped as he fought against his body's natural instincts.

"Don't want to hurt you," he said through gritted teeth.

"Dammit, Rem. You're killing me! Fuck me!"

Her words released the demon in his soul and he pulled out only to thrust back in roughly. She screamed and he started to stop again until he realized her climax was already starting. He began a steady rhythm, refusing to let this end so quickly. He came into her as a steady stream of words flowed from his lips.

"Love you, baby," he said on one hard thrust. "Christ, I love you."

She moaned and he felt her begin to come again, her orgasms triggering continuously as he thrust over and over.

He pounded into her one last time as he turned the vibrator up to high. Her body trembled with the power of her final orgasm and he gave himself up to it.

"Fuck!" he muttered as his come jetted out in powerful spurts. "Goddammit, Liv. You're killing me, baby. Killing me. Shit, I love you."

For hours, days, hell maybe weeks, he lay above her, struggling to support his weight on weak arms, trying not to crush her into the hard surface of the desk.

She lay motionless beneath him and for a moment, he worried that he'd been too rough.

"Liv?" he whispered, feathering light kisses on her sweat-soaked back. They'd given each other quite a workout. She didn't reply. He pushed up and away from her, cursing the stiffness in his legs, his ass, everywhere. "Olivia?" he said, running his hand along her side, down to her waist.

"Ssh," she said. "Olivia Carter is officially dead. Killed by a gang of ruthless orgasms. The vicious fuckers attacked her from behind."

He laughed until his sides hurt. He fell back into the desk chair to catch his breath and took a moment to enjoy the view of Liv sprawled out across his desk with her well-fucked and spanked ass at eye level.

She didn't move but he sensed her eyes were open.

"You're gloating, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yep," he replied cheerfully.

"You think my sore ass is funny?"

He laughed, recalling the fact she'd said the exact same thing the first night they'd slept together. The night she'd given him her virginity. "I think your sore ass is gorgeous. Can you get up off that desk?" he asked.

"Maybe…in a few weeks. Do you mind bringing me some food every now and again?"

"I think I know something that will help you move. I've got another surprise for you," he said, reaching back toward the drawer.

"Oh my God, any more of your surprises and I really will die."

He grinned and ran his hand along the back of her thigh. "You'll like this surprise and it doesn't involve sex at all."

"No sex?" she asked. "Hardly seems worth getting up for."

He shook his head and turned on his firm Marine voice. "Get up, Liv, and come here."

As always, she reacted to the tone. He noticed she was also feeling the effects of their hard lovemaking as she winced a couple of times before standing completely upright.

"I'll run a bath for you in a minute. I need to ask you something first."

She turned to face him. "How about bath first, question later?"

"No, this is important and I don't want to wait any longer."

As she stood before him, he slid off the chair and onto one knee. He heard Liv's quick intake of breath as he grasped her left hand in his. He flipped his right hand over the reveal the diamond engagement ring on his palm. "I love you and I want you to marry me, spitfire. I want to spend the rest of my life right here with you on this ranch. I want us to raise a brood of babies together and I want to die in your arms about a hundred years from now."

She smiled at his words and he thought for a moment he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. "I would love to marry you. I've never wanted to be with anyone but you. I love you, cowboy," she said, her voice hoarse with emotion.

He stood up and placed the ring on her finger. Leaning down, he kissed her gently. "You don't think two months is too soon to propose?"

She slapped him on the side of the head with a laugh. "Two months? Try ten years and two months, dumbass. You're just lucky you didn't keep me hanging on much longer. Another fifty years or so and I would have been out of here."

He laughed. "Damn, I was pushing it close to the wire. Glad I wised up in time. I love you, Liv."

"I love you too, Rem. I think I forgot to say this a couple of weeks ago, but welcome home."

He kissed her, holding her close, soaking in her scent and savoring the feeling of her soft body against his.

Some homecoming, he thought with a grin.

Ready for more Cowboy Heat?

Rekindled

Inflamed