Menage Amour 82: Tasty Treats Volume 1
Page 8
"In the kitchen." Killian answered before she could.
"Hey, darling." Adam sauntered in holding a bag of groceries. He paused long enough to drop a quick kiss on her lips before unloading his burden onto the countertop. He gave a quick look between Killian and her before asking, "Everything good?"
"Just fine." Killian did it again, answered for her. It had already begun to irritate her. "Rachel and I were just"
"Agreeing that Killian is a pompous ass."
"Is that so?" Adam smirked.
"Oh, you missed it, Adam. Killian is such a sweetheart underneath all that toughness. He came over here so very worried that his lack of manners and grace this morning might have somehow upset me. Even though I insisted that it hadn't, he just had to apologize."
"Did he?"
Rachel placed a dramatic hand over her heart. "Then he got down on one knee and begged my forgiveness. You can just imagine how shocked and touched I was, especially when he went on about what a wonderful woman I was and how his life wouldn't be complete without me in it. I was just so touched."
"Oh, you're going to be touched," Killian warned as he started to shove past Adam. "Just wait until I get my hands on you."
"I thought you only had an hour lunch?"
"I only need five minutes."
"Well, you'll just have to hope I'm still awake when you get off shift, because I need my food and part of a relationship is doing normal things like eating dinner."
"Relationship?" Adam repeated.
Rachel raised her chin and met him in the eye. Killian had said that was what he wanted. How selfish would it be to hope Adam felt the same? "Yes. Killian and I have decided to try to have one of those."
"You have?"
"Yeah," Killian answered with an ease Rachel found a little surprising. "With you playing the kinky sidekick."
"Oh, I'm the sidekick?"
"Did I stutter?"
"I think we should let Rachel decide that. Don't you?"
"Me?" Rachel glanced between the two men. "I can only have one of you?"
"Well, you can only marry one of us." Adam responded.
"Marry?"
"Whoever she doesn't choose is the sidekick."
"I'm so going to love screwing your wife when this is all over." Killian smirked.
"And who says I'm going to marry him?" That shocked both of them. "You never know, Killian, I just might decide that marrying you would be the perfect punishment. Then I'll name your first son Adam."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me."
THE END
www.JennyPenn.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I live near Charleston, SC with my two biggies (my dogs). I have had a slightly unconventional life. Moving almost every three years, I've had a range of day jobs that included everything from working for one of the worlds largest banks as an auditor to turning wrenches as an outboard repair mechanic. I've always regretted that we only get one life and have tried to cram as much as I can into this one.
Throughout it all, I've always read books, feeding my need to dream and fantasize about what could be. An avid reader since childhood, as a latchkey kid I'd spend hours at the library earning those shiny stars the librarian would paste up on the board after my name.
I credit my grandmother's yearly visits as the beginning of my obsession with romances. When she'd come, she'd bring stacks of romance books, the old fashion kind that didn't have sex in them. Imagine my shock when I went to the used bookstore and found out what really could be in a romance novel.
I've working on my own stories for years and have found a particular love of erotic romances. In this genre, women are no longer confined to a stereotype and plots are no longer constrained to the rational. I love the anything goes mentality and letting my imagination run wild.
I hope you enjoyed running with me and will consider picking up another book and coming along for another adventure.
Please visit Jenny at www.jennypenn.com, or send her a comment at jenny@jennypenn.com
RIDING LESSONS
Riding Series 2
Eve Adams
DEDICATION
This short story is dedicated to all the women who have traded in their stilettos and trendy sports cars for cowboy boots and pickup trucks. Here's to all the city girls in cowboy worlds.
RIDING LESSONS
Riding Series 2
EVE ADAMS
Copyright 2009
Chapter 1
"Excuse me," Leah interrupted the kid in the red apron. He first gave her a slow once over and offered a crooked grin of approval before removing the ear buds from his ears. In your dreams, Stock Boy . Ignoring the horny teenager's wandering eyes, which now were resting on her breasts, she continued. "Can you point me to your wine section?"
He cocked his head and snapped his brow into a frown. "Huh?"
"Wine section," she repeated, a little more slowly. Maybe they were all wine-illiterate in Montana. This was the second store and third stock boy she'd approached. "Do you have one?"
"You're in it," he answered and nodded toward the single shelf in front of him housing extraordinarily large bottles of labels she'd never heard of. That and boxes of wine she'd heard of, and knew to stay away from if she wanted to remember anything about the night before.
After laboring over her decision, she decided the monster bottle over the box and grabbed the Cabernet by the neck. Carefully placing it in her basket next to the cheese bread so as not to crush it, she made her way to the front of the store and searched for the self-checkout line.
Big surprise. They didn't have one. Jumping in the only line open, she set her basket on the floor behind a man who smelled of stale cigarettes, and grabbed the latest National Inquisitor to peruse while she waited to check out. A guilty pleasure, but she always took great comfort in knowing someone else's life was in greater chaos than hers. It was an even greater comfort knowing another's hectic lifestyle ranked worthy of a headline, even if it was a gossip tabloid.
"You plan on moving up, ma'am? Or did you find something more interesting in that garbage?" A male voice sounded behind her. His rich baritone and sexy country drawl had her toes curling before she had a chance to whip around. When she did, the tabloid slipped from her fingers, onto the floor, and she let out a slow breath.
Oh, wow. A real, live cowboy.
He had hair the color of rich coffee and cinnamon eyes that bore straight into her soul. Plaid shirt, dirty jeans, and worn cowboy boots. It just didn't get any better. When she eyed the sweat stained cowboy hat on top of his perfect head, she let out an audible sigh. The tingle started deep in her toes and traveled to her nipples, settled there long enough for them to become erect and uncomfortably hard, and then rested deep in the center of her womb.
"Ma'am?"
Leah blinked out of her lust-induced trance. "Yes?"
"It's your turn."
"For what?" she purred. She wanted to jump into his arms and kiss him until they both gasped for air. She wanted to lick his cute little ear. Or maybe nip at that handsomely arrogant, square jaw covered in a dusting of whiskers. Anything to get him to wrap those enormous hands around her and crush her body to his.
"What did you have in mind?"
"What are you offering?" Did she really just say that out loud? And in front of the dozens of people that lived in this town?
That curl of his sensual lips had her licking hers in return. Kiss me. I dare you. His gaze finally left hers to study the groceries in her basket and she drew it a gulp of air. "Let's see. You have the makin's of garlic bread," he drawled in that sexy, slow country way that made a girl hot and crazy in all the right ways. "Wine, which don't get far 'round here. We prefer a good cold brew over any wine."
"Why's that?" she asked, breathless to hear his voice again. Leaning in, she stepped on the tabloid as she moved closer. Never had she been this sexually charged and drawn to another person as she was to Mr. Cowboy.
"Look around, da
rlin'. This here is wheat and barley country. Ain't no grapes." He licked his lower lip as he eyed hers, and then sucked his in between perfectly white teeth.
"I like wine," she stated, ignoring the way the sound of his voice sent shocks of erotic energy shooting through her system, centering in on her already quivering channel. Her want for this cowboy pooled in liquid desire as the lips of her pussy drenched with her own juices.
He grabbed her meal-in-a-bag and held it up for them both to see. He then cocked a dark brow as he teased her with a devastating look. "Italian? In a bag?"
She shrugged, the heat of her embarrassment warming her cheeks. Still, she refused to look away. The man was pure perfection, and Leah didn't know when she'd ever get to feast her eyes or any other part of her on something so mouthwatering again. "It's microwavable. Besides, I don't cook much."
He set the bag down, only to pick up the box of frozen waffles. Eyeing her again, he smiled and she couldn't help but smile in return. "Obviously."
The sudden need to busy herself overtook her other senses and she started scouring the tiny display next to the checkout stand. Spotting a toothbrush, she grabbed it and wrapped her fingers around it so tight her knuckles turned white.
"Have the sudden need to clean your teeth?"
Why did this man make her feel so uncomfortable, so frazzled and heated? She started to breathe in short, shallow gasps. He made her feel dizzy, like she was about three feet above the ground. She loved the feeling and hated it all at the same time. "I like a fresh mouth. And you shouldn't neglect your teeth."
"Your mouth looks downright edible to me." He flashed that damned crooked smile that already had her weak in the knees. That wicked glimmer in his eyes had her ready to agree to whatever else he wanted to eat.
What the hell?
She was only passing through this tiny, podunk town anyway. She could spend the night with a sexy, handsome cowboy who looked like every woman's fantasy and drive away in the morning with no regrets. It would save her a hotel bill. Granted they even had hotels in Podunk .
Why not?
Glancing down at what he had in his basketchocolate syrup, milk, and of course beershe brought her gaze back up to his face. "Have you ever"
"Paper or plastic?"
Leah whipped around as the checker asked her a question. "Um," she answered, suddenly unable to form a complete word, let alone a coherent sentence. The flame from her mortification that someone else heard their verbal foreplay licked her cheeks. "I, uh"
"What isle is the bubble bath on, Carla?" Her perfect cowboy spoke up, saving her from more embarrassment.
"Six. But you've never picked up no Mr. Bubbles before. And men don't take bubble baths. Just ask my husband."
"Thanks, darlin'." He ignored her comment and ran back to isle six, only to return with a small bottle of pink bubble bath. With a coy grin, he winked at Leah as he threw the bubble bath in his basket. "In case of company," he hummed in that rich voice that had her captivated and a bit weak in the knees. He winked again and she just about melted into a puddle right there.
Oh, dear God . Just the thought of taking a bath with the cowboy had her so ready to come right here, right now. She'd insist he still wear the cowboy hat.
And nothing else.
* * * *
Cole studied the gorgeous brunette in front of him, wondering if she felt the crackling sexual pull between them as much as he did. He didn't recognize her, which said enough. Holsten, Montana housed just enough people to place them on the map, and not a soul more. Everyone knew everyone else around these parts. No doubt about it. She wasn't from around here.
Perfect.
They'd spend the night in each other's arms, in every position he could think of and even make up a few. He'd never been so drawn to a woman, so hard for her he had to constantly adjust his cock so it didn't bust out of his jeans.
Her beautiful silky waves of hair rested down to the middle of her sexy back. When she first turned to him, he sucked in a sharp breath. Her eyes were the exact color of the Montana sky right before dark, such a deep blue he had to give her a double take to see if they were real.
"That'll be 32.16," Carla stated in her monotone voice. She'd been a checker at Lloyd's Grocery since Cole was a kid. She never aged, and never changed her tone. The pretty woman handed Carla a credit card and Cole hid his smile. Obviously an out-of-towner. "We don't take plastic," Carla stated and tried to hand it back to her.
"What?" The way her deep eyes widened in shock had Cole ready to burst. Damn . His hard-on pressed painfully against his zipper and he blew out a slow breath to try and regain some sort of control over his libido. "Even if it's a debit card?"
Carla gave her a bored look. "It's still plastic."
"Oookay," she sang in an ever-growing agitated tone. Darting a look back at Cole, she colored beautifully. His mouth watered as he watched the redness creep up her neck. He wanted to take the same path with his tongue. "Can I write a check?"
"Is it local?"
The woman stopped rustling through her purse and looked at Carla. "It's a Seattle bank."
"Then no."
"Why not? It isn't like it's going to bounce because it's from an out of state bank."
Cole shook his head and decided to step in before they both drew their claws and went at it. "Ladies," he stated easily and put his hand between them. It forced him to stop a mere inch from the woman in order to stand close enough to break up the inevitable cat fight. He drew in a deep breath and held it, intoxicated by the scent of her desire.
He'd never met anyone who smelled like sunshine before. His gut tightened as sparks from her enticing scent rattled his nerves and shot a pulsing current straight to his groin. He couldn't stop himself from pulling his hand back and resting it on her shoulder.
Carla's knowing eyes watched the gesture before jumping up to Cole's. "Are you two...? Is she going to your ranch?"
"She insisted on doing everything tonight," he told Carla, whose look told him she clearly didn't believe him. Grabbing his wallet out of his back pocket, he pulled out a fifty and tossed it onto the counter. "This should cover our dinner. Don't forget to add the stuff in my basket."
"You don't"
Cole brought his finger up and placed it against the woman's soft, sensual lips. Instead of her closing her mouth, her lips parted and she let out a heated sigh. The warmth from her breath tickled his finger and his heart rate spiked. She had to feel it, too. No way could attraction this powerful be one-sided. "Let me do this. You can make it up to me later."
Her blue eyes blazed, flashing from surprise to dark lust. The hunger shining in those brilliant orbs equaled his. As a teaser, she licked her lips, purposely flicking her tongue up against his finger.
Oh, Dear Jesus . He swallowed a groan and turned back to Carla. They needed to get these groceries checked out and paid for, and get back to the ranch ASAP. If they spent much longer in the depths of this mental foreplay, they wouldn't even make it out of the store. He was ready to bend her over the checkout stand and fuck her right here.
"Bag it together, Carla."
Carla sighed heavily and grabbed the contents out of his basket, one at a time. And, as usual, she had a comment to make about every single one. "Milk. Good for you. Every growing boy needs his milk."
"I'm twenty-seven. I think I'm grown up enough." He stole a glance at the woman and grinned.
The playful arch of her brow as she traced his frame, and then the coy little curl of her lips when she rested her gaze back on his face said she agreed with his comment.
"You sure like to play grown up games, don't you?"
He inwardly cringed, but kept his features rigid. The last thing he needed was Carla's mouth scaring this woman away before he had a chance to explain how things worked at the Flying H's Ranch.
"Chocolate syrup? Now, you know this stuff will rot your teeth right out of your handsome head."
He grinned and lowered his eyes. Why did it feel like
Carla reprimanded him every time he went through her line? "I promise to go easy on it."
"I don't," the woman purred, her body pressed up against his as she whispered in his ear. The moisture from her breath washed chills up and down his already rigid spine. His gut tightened as he studied her. A sparkle of sinful promises shined in those beautiful blue eyes.
"And beer," Carla commented dryly. "You know this stuff makes a person mean. And fat. You should see the belly on my husband."
The woman stiffened suddenly and visibly swallowed. After several seconds, she recovered from whatever had her so tense and she smiled. The gesture didn't reach her eyes, which Cole had since committed to memory. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," she lied and he knew it. She fidgeted with her purse. Cole noticed how her hands shook and narrowed his eyes at her. One comment about beer had her in a fit.
Interesting . He made a mental note to join her with a glass of wine and leave the beer in his truck if it upset her that much. "Yes, you are."
Ah. There it was. That sensual smile reached her eyes, causing them to twinkle mischievously. Holy hell . If she made him this hard just from a look, a simple smile, he knew he'd be in trouble when he got her back to the ranch. He'd have to find some way to slow down their sexual tension or he'd lose it before he had a chance to bury his cock deep inside her.
"That'll be 50.02." When Cole didn't acknowledge Carla because he was too captivated by the beauty staring back at him, she repeated her request. "50.02. I need two more pennies."
"I've got it," the woman stated and pulled the change out of the bottom of her purse, her eyes never leaving his. "My two cents."
"Oh," he moaned. "I'm sure I'll get more than that tonight."
"Okay, you two." Carla handed Cole his receipt. "Take it to the Flying H's. We don't sell porn here."
He laughed at Carla's gruff tone. "Yes, ma'am."
"Flying H's?" The woman looked at him, her brow pulled into a crinkled frown of confusion.
"My family's ranch," he answered. "It isn't too far from here. Do you want to follow me?"