Free Montana Cowboy (Big Sky Mavericks Book 2) by Debra Salonen Page B

But nothing prepared him for the intense connection between them. She seemed to anticipate his every move, although that wouldn't be possible unless she was inside his head.
    "My hip is cramping a bit from this position. Could we try it another way?" she asked, kneeling on the cushion so he could take her from behind.
    "Of course. No problem." His arousal level went through the roof when he rubbed his hands over her gorgeous ass. His admiration for her climbed, too. How many women had he slept with who were this practical, honest, and nonchalant about asking for what they wanted and needed to be satisfied? Oh, there'd been the demanding types, but this was all about mutual satisfaction.
    He entered her slowly, watching his cock disappear incrementally.
    "Nice," she murmured, her tone throaty and guttural.
    As he started to rock to her rhythm, he reached around to rub his finger across the engorged nubbin he knew would carry her over the top.
    Her passionate cry brought him right to the brink, but he steeled himself to make each second of pleasure last. Slow. Slowly. Now.
    "Now. Yes. Oh. Oh."
    The last 'oh' did him in. He closed his eyes and slammed home, again and again, until every last glorious sensation of release drained out of him. Knees quivering, heart beating triple time, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled them—still intimately connected—so they were spooning on the couch.
    Their breathing matched, and gradually slowed.
    "Wow, Austen, you're good. That was fabulous. Thanks."
    He kissed the back of her ear and inhaled her scent, his arms tightening. Her tone held a certain "that was fun, now let's move on" tone, but he didn't want to move on. He hadn't felt this complete, this okay in...forever?
    His eyes blinked open and he let his arms drop. What just happened?
    How could someone who had long-term written all over her be so damn good at a one-night-stand while Mr. Love'em and Leave'em wanted—needed—to cuddle? She slid away gracefully, dashed into the guest bath he'd used earlier that morning then returned with a hand towel and warm washcloth.
    She cleaned them both up, then grabbed a throw from the rocking chair and repositioned Austen so she could stretch out prone on top of him. "I hope you have time for a snuggle."
    "Would all night work for you?"
    She looked him in the eye and grinned. "That sounds interesting. I'll even fix you breakfast in the morning." Then she lowered her head to his chest and let out a big sigh. "I'm so glad horses hate alpacas."
    It took him a moment to figure out what she meant—the cause behind their fortuitous meeting that morning. Since he wasn't a big believer in fate—"Luck is the result of good planning and hard work," his father always said—Austen was glad she'd told him about the antipathy horses held for alpacas. The rationale helped explain how he arrived at her door, but it didn't explain why he felt so at peace in her arms.

CHAPTER 6
    A familiar chiming sound woke Austen out of the best sleep he'd had in months...maybe since all hell had broken loose. He didn't know what that meant, but he knew the alarm on his phone meant this was Sunday morning and he'd agreed to meet his parents for church.
    "Damn," he muttered, rolling over, his arm out-stretched to find Serena...gone.
    He bolted upright. "Serena?"
    "Downstairs," a voice called. "Making coffee."
    He grabbed his phone. Eight wasn't late, but it probably equaled lazy bum status to a rancher. A real rancher. Not a make-believe cowboy like him.
    He got up, peed, brushed his teeth with the brand new toothbrush she'd left on the sink for him, and then dressed in record time. Apparently, she'd been up long enough to retrieve his clothes from the living room and leave them neatly folded on her dresser.
    His shoes made a staccato snap as he hurried down the stairs. His nose led him to the kitchen.
    "'Morning. Please don't tell me you were up at the butt crack of dawn while I slept like the dead."
    She stood with