bubble bath and made me some herbal tea to help soothe my frazzled nerves. When I was done, I started to dry myself off, but he grabbed the towel from me and took care of it himself. Afterward, he helped me into my flannel pajamas and then led me to the bedroom. He was pampering me, and I let him, because it felt good to have someone else to lean on for a change. No one had ever taken care of me that way before.
He held the covers up as I slid underneath, then lay down behind me, encompassing me with his warm body. It made me feel better, safer even, but it wasn’t enough. The mental images I’d stirred up by talking about my past wouldn’t stop replaying vividly in my mind. I needed him to make me forget completely, to make me forgo this feeling of doom hovering all around me.
“Cowboy, I…I need you.”
“I’m right here, baby.” He pressed his lips to my temple and held me firmer in his strong arms. “I’ve got you. No one is going to hurt you.”
“No, I mean I need you…inside me.”
I knew he wasn’t sexually aroused. I could feel every bit of pelvic region pressing into my bottom through my flannel pajamas. He didn’t have any problem sleeping in the nude, but I wasn’t at the same comfort level. Yet the moment I spoke those words aloud, something must’ve stirred inside him. A long, hard ridge suddenly rested uncomfortably against me.
“Are you sure? We don’t have to—”
“I need you,” I whispered again.
His body shifted away from me a little and I considered it a sign that he was going to reject me, until the end table’s drawer opened and then shut. The telling sound of a foil packet crinkled as he ripped it open. He seemed to understand what I was asking him for because, seconds later, he shoved me forward, settling me on my stomach, as he positioned himself between my legs.
He wasn’t gentle. Which is exactly what I wanted. I needed him to claim me in a primal way, to disintegrate the images from inside of my head, as he screwed me senseless. Cowboy lifted my hips, yanked my pajama bottoms down to my knees, and plunged inside of me from behind. I whimpered, but my mind focused solely on him.
Gripping my hips with both hands, he grunted and groaned as he pulled almost all the way out and thrust himself back in once again. I gasped from the raw power of his body slamming against mine. Suddenly, he stopped. Reaching around to find my clit, he applied just the right amount of pressure, which had me panting and hurtling toward a mind-numbing orgasm. But I bucked back into him, rocking hard onto his member. More than anything, I needed to feel him deep within me.
“Christ, darlin’, you’re going to make me come if you keep doing that.”
Continuing to work my hips over his length, I gave as good as I got. The pace was frantic as he took me from behind, jarring my body forward and repeatedly jerking me back onto his length. The orgasm swept over me in much the same way, coming fast and furious, as Cowboy’s own climax peaked. Not giving me one second to catch my breath, he rode me hard all the way to the end until he collapsed over me, breathing heavily onto my back.
After a few minutes, he rolled off me in a way mimicking an alligator’s death roll and lay there, spent. “If we keep this up, I’m pretty sure you’re going to be the death of me.”
I winced, remembering the danger I was putting him in by staying.
God, I hoped not.
The moment Cowboy began breathing heavy, suggesting he was asleep, I eased away from him and slipped out of the room. I didn’t want him to know I was still battling insomnia, so I closed the bedroom door to keep the light on the computer from waking him. At least one of us should be able to sleep.
I spent some time mulling over a few promising websites and then settled on one to use for my research before I continued my search for Ned Swanson. An hour passed by with no new information. Same name. Wrong man. Each and every time.
My eyes grew weary and my body slumped in defeat with every click. So when I found a wedding photo labeled “The Swanson Brothers,” I wasn’t expecting much to