"You're giving them one h.e.l.l of a vacation."

"Good." Her booted feet located the rungs of the chair to give her stability. Having a dream come true made her bold. "Your mouth deserves one, too." Moving her hands to his shoulders, she lifted herself from his lap so that she was in the perfect position for him to...oh, yeah. Gabe knew how to make use of that position.

As he licked and sucked, murmuring words of praise for the bounty she was providing, her womb tightened. She'd known from that first watermelon kiss that she'd been right years ago. This was a man who had the power to drive her crazy.

And she needed more than his mouth at her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She needed release, and it wasn't far away, if only she could get back to where... Slowly she lowered herself into his lap and gave him a tongue-worthy kiss to make up for taking away all that oral gratification. At least he still had his hands full.

Gripping his knees again, she pushed her hips forward and wedged her sweet spot intimately against the erection straining the denim of his jeans. Then she let her head fall back and rocked forward against that tantalizing bulge. "Mmm."

He gasped. "Morgan..."

"What, Gabe?" Heart racing, she wiggled a fraction closer. "Am I hurting you?"

"Good G.o.d, no. But I-"

"Just let me..." Right there. She didn't even have to move much, if she could just press against him for a moment longer... Her pulse hammered as the quickening began. Almost there. She struggled for breath.

"Pinch...my nipples."

He did, and she felt the first spasm. She whimpered and rocked against him. "Again."

He squeezed once, twice, and she gasped as the trembling began in earnest. "Oh, yes. Yes." Gripping his knees, she pushed hard against that rigid denim as her body quaked in response to the glorious pressure. She clenched her jaw to keep from crying out.

Her climax left her limp and panting. She slumped forward. "Thank...you."

"Oh, Morgan." Cradling her face in both hands, he covered her with kisses. "You're incredible, and I need you so much. I need you now."

"Yes... I know..." In her dazed state, she wasn't sure how to make that happen. They had no bed, and the floor didn't seem like a good idea.

But apparently a serious case of l.u.s.t inspired Gabe to improvise. He lifted her onto the round table and made short work of her boots, jeans and soaked panties. He didn't bother taking off his own clothes. Through heavy-lidded eyes she watched him unbuckle his belt and jerk down his zipper. The condom took no time at all.

His breathing ragged, he bracketed her hips and plunged deep. His groan of satisfaction came through clenched teeth, but it spoke volumes about his state of mind, or rather mindlessness.

Instinctively she wrapped her legs around his waist so that she had leverage and could be more than a pa.s.senger on this cruise to paradise.

"I'll just hang out here for a minute." He sounded winded, as if he'd run a footrace. "Get my bearings."

Wrapping one hand around his neck, she traced the line of his mouth with her finger. He captured that finger between his teeth, pulled it into his mouth and began to suck.

"Wow. That's...that's nice." She wasn't sure why, but having him suck rhythmically on her finger while his c.o.c.k was up to the hilt inside her had almost the same effect as if he were stroking back and forth.

Slowly he released her finger. "G.o.d, you're responsive."

"Not always, but tonight...tonight I can't seem to help myself." Because I'm with you. "I want it all." She used her free hand to unsnap his shirt. It fell open and she stroked his heaving, sweat-slicked chest. Even the smattering of hair covering his pecs was damp.

He groaned again, and deep inside her v.a.g.i.n.a his p.e.n.i.s twitched. "I'm hanging on by a thread."

Her voice lowered to a soft purr. "Then let go." She began drawing lazy circles around his tight nipples.

"Not yet." Finding her mouth with his, he took her by the shoulders and eased her back on to the table. Then he kissed her deeply as he ran both hands down her arms. In a maneuver straight out of a pirate movie, he laced his fingers through hers and raised her arms over her head, anchoring them to the table.

He was ravishing her. And she loved it.

He lifted his mouth, hovering near, his rapid breathing feathering her wet lips. "I think this is what they call fantasy s.e.x," he murmured.

"X-rated entertainment for the ghosts."

"There are no ghosts." He nuzzled the curve of her neck and placed kisses along her collarbone. "Just one hot woman and one desperate man."

"Desperate?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm right on the edge, but I want to make you come first."

"You did."

"No, you did. This one's on me. Let's see if I've learned anything." Closing his mouth around her nipple, he moved his hips a fraction closer, tightening the connection between them. Then he rolled her nipple between his tongue and the roof of his mouth as he pushed forward with his hips. The motion was subtle.

But it was enough. He'd found the exact spot and was applying pressure. And all the while he rolled her nipple against the roof of his mouth with a little more force, and a little more, and yet a little more...

"Oh, Gabe! Kiss me. Kiss me now before I...I'm going to scream!"

He m.u.f.fled the sound of her cries as her o.r.g.a.s.m ripped through her like a flash flood, lifting her hips from the table and sending waves of pleasure shivering through her body.

She was still arched like a bow and trembling when he began to pound into her, his strokes swift and sure, his rhythm picking up speed until he tore his mouth from hers and began to pant. His grip on her hands tightened and he gazed down at her, although his face was in shadow.

She could barely see his eyes, could only faintly make out that a lock of his sandy hair had fallen over his damp forehead. And she, too, wished they had more light.

"So...good...so..." His mouth came down on hers as he drove home once more and his body shuddered.

She absorbed the staccato pulse of his climax with a joyous sense of accomplishment. She'd given him pleasure. No matter what else happened between them-even if nothing did-she would know that in this moment he wouldn't have traded places with anyone in the world. And neither would she.

GABE HAD SUSPECTED from the moment he'd first spied Morgan on Geronimo that she was no ordinary woman. With that c.o.c.keyed name and her considerable endowments, she already stood out from the crowd.

But now he had a better idea of what made her so special. She gave a hundred percent in anything she did, and that included-boy, did it ever-having s.e.x. Her Italian mama would be proud.

Releasing his grip on her hands, he cupped her face and gave her a long, gentle kiss. She responded as he would have expected, kissing him back as if she felt the same sense of grat.i.tude he did.

Slowly he ended the kiss and braced his hands on either side of her head. "That...that was the best s.e.x I've ever had in my life."

"I'd have to say the same."

"I guess now we have to decide what we want to do about it."

"Have more?"

He laughed. "Well, yeah, obviously. But we have to decide the when and where part. Are you tired?"

"If you're asking whether I'd choose sleep over s.e.x with you, then you haven't been paying attention."

"Ah, Morgan, you flatter me."

"Ah, Gabe, you turn me on. But we probably shouldn't stay here."

"No."

"I'm thinking my place."

He smiled down at her. "You got any ghosts?"

"Not that I know of, but I do have a box of condoms."

"I'll take condoms over ghosts anyday." With some regret, but with the promise of more happy times very soon, he eased away from her. "I'll make a quick trip to the men's room and be right back."

"I'll put myself back together while you're gone."

"If any ghosts show up, offer them a beer. I don't think we'll need that six-pack, after all." He thought about that as he went to the back to take care of business.

He'd a.s.sumed they'd drink at least some of the six-pack as a way to loosen up and get into a fooling-around mood. They'd each had about two sips of the stuff before they were into full make-out mode. He hadn't felt that kind of strong attraction to a woman in a long time.

And the attraction had been followed by world-cla.s.s s.e.x. Because he wanted to focus on his compet.i.tion for now-once he sorted things out with Jack-he wasn't interested in tying himself down, but if he were, Morgan would be perfect. Then he had an unsettling thought. She could be thinking the same thing, that they were perfect for each other. And she might not have an aversion to making it permanent.

That meant at some point they'd have to discuss the subject. He'd be completely honest with her and hope she'd offer him the same courtesy. In some ways he wished he'd met her two or three years from now, when he'd reached his goals for himself and Top Drawer.

But he couldn't bring himself to regret what had happened tonight. A guy could go his whole life and not experience that kind of great s.e.x. He was one lucky cowboy.

Turning out the bathroom light, he stepped into the darkened bar and paused to let his eyes adjust so he wouldn't bang into things.

"Gabe?" Her voice sounded a little quivery, as if she might be nervous about something.

"What?" He hoped she wasn't ready to have a talk about where all this might lead.

"I don't know what you're going to think about this..."

He decided to preempt whatever she was trying to say and save her the embarra.s.sment. "Look, Morgan, I loved having s.e.x with you, but I don't want to get serious about anyone right now."

"Me, either! Did you think that's what I was going to say? That I'm husband-hunting?"

"Well...yeah."

"That's the furthest thing from my mind. But I did think I should mention something to you."

He was relieved, but wondered what other bombsh.e.l.l she had to drop. "What's that?"

"I just saw a ghost."

6.

FOR A GUY who supposedly didn't believe in ghosts, Gabe rushed her out of the bar so fast they almost forgot to put the key through the mail slot. Morgan had a sneaky suspicion that underneath his manly man pose was a little kid who did believe in ghosts.

"You didn't see a ghost," Gabe insisted as they walked rapidly down Main Street, which was now deserted. He had a firm hold on her hand, as if he didn't trust her to keep heading away from the haunted bar.

"Somebody made a U-turn in the street and their headlights shone through the window. That's all it was."

"No, that's not all it was." Morgan had been a little freaked out, but she'd wanted to stay and see what the ghost would do. The shimmery light that had drifted through the locked front door and over to a corner table had definitely not been a car's headlights. "You walked right past it. Didn't you notice anything?"

His answer was delivered in a no-nonsense tone. "No. Didn't see a thing." He walked faster.

"So where are we going now?"

"Your place."

"Okay. But I'm just wondering. Do you know where that is?"

His pace slowed. "Uh, not exactly."

"Didn't think so." She worked hard not to laugh. "We have to go back the other way."

"Oh." He glanced down the street toward Spirits and Spurs. A light fog had drifted in, and the bar looked even spookier than when they'd left.

Gabe shook his finger at it. "I know what happened. Josie set us up. Dollars to doughnuts she has a projection system on a timer, and all she had to do was activate it."

"Then I wish we'd stayed. We could have figured out exactly where that shimmery light was coming from. Now we'll never know for sure."

"I know for sure. It was Josie. Eventually I'll get her to admit it. I'm surprised she'd try something like that, considering."

"Considering what?"

He didn't answer right away, which aroused her curiosity even more. "Is there some unwritten rule that n.o.body plays tricks on a Chance?"

"Hardly. My dad was always messing with people, and they'd mess with him right back." Gabe pointed toward the feed store. "You see that plastic horse on the porch roof next to the Shoshone Feed Store sign?"

Morgan glanced up at the life-sized statue. "I remember it from when I lived here before, except I thought it was white back then."

"It was white for years. It's also an anatomically correct stallion."

"Huh. I never noticed."

"You would have noticed after my dad snuck in here one dark night and painted the horse's b.a.l.l.s blue."

Morgan laughed. "When he was a randy teenager, I'll bet."

"Uh, no. He was fifty-seven going on seventeen. He and Ronald, the feed store owner, were high-school buddies who never grew out of playing tricks on each other. The week before, my dad had walked outside to discover a full-grown male buffalo with a red bow on his head tied to the hitching post beside the barn."