Prairie Devil: Cowboys of the Flint Hills

by Tessa Layne

  She let out a sigh that sounded more like the coo of a dove, and stretched against him.

  He bit back a groan as his balls tightened with need. “Come on, sweetheart. Time to rise and shine.” He should be a candidate for sainthood. He wanted nothing more than to devour every inch of her.

  She shook her head against him with a growl.

  Of course. Coffee. She never moved without coffee. With heroic effort, he gingerly slipped from the bed, reminding his swollen dick that it wouldn’t be much longer, and pressed the start button on the coffee machine. The machine gurgled to life, and he tentatively rolled his shoulders as he waited. A sharp pain shot down his arm.

  Unease settled in his gut. Sharp pain didn’t necessarily mean a tear. He’d learned from the hours of massage therapy he’d received over the years, it could just as easily mean a knot of fascia. Given his ride yesterday, he’d at least sustained some whiplash.

  The coffee machine let out a final gasp, and he pulled the paper cup from the dispenser, added both the creams, and walked back to the bed. Slipping back under the covers, he nudged Lydia. “I’ve brought your caffeine hit,” he teased.

  The aroma must have registered in her sleepy brain, because she cracked open an eye. “You brought me coffee?”

  “Just like every morning.” She gave him a pleased little smile that shot straight to his cock. He’d bring her coffee every day just to be on the receiving end of that look.

  “Thank you.” She tucked the sheets under her armpits and sat primly, hand extended to receive her cup.

  There was nothing prim about her like this. She was more like a 1960’s pinup girl and the urge to tumble her pulled at him fiercely. But she had to get to the exhibition hall, and he needed to call the doctor.

  As if reading his mind, she cocked her head. “How do you feel this morning?”

  “Sore. Foggy from the pills.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?”

  He shook his head, secretly thrilled she’d offered. “Nah. I know you need to get to your booth. I’ll come by when it’s over.”

  Her face clouded. “Are you sure? I have a nice stack of orders already. Shutting down for half a day isn’t going to hurt.”

  “Drink your coffee,” he ordered gruffly, not wanting to let on how much her offer meant to him. “When I get back, we can talk about this new development in our agreement.” He cocked an eyebrow as he let his gaze run over her.

  Her skin turned pink, moving up her chest, and brightening her cheeks. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she answered, chest rising and falling rapidly. “I-I thought about what you said last night.”

  “I said a lot last night.”

  “About the renegotiating everything.”

  So, they were talking about this now? “Okay…” he drew the word out, unsure of what to expect.

  She held up a hand. “I’m not looking for marriage, in case you were worried about that.” Her color deepened. “But the other stuff…”

  “The other stuff?” Okay, he was fucking with her a bit. But only a bit. He needed to hear from her exactly what she wanted. “What other stuff?” he prodded.

  “You’re gonna make me say it?”

  “Umm hmm.” He nodded. “I want to know exactly what is going on inside that pretty little head of yours.”

  She took a deep breath and stared into her coffee, before raising her head with a determined glint in her eye. “Fiancée with benefits?”

  He nearly choked on his tongue, and the laugh that bubbled up from his chest came out strangled. “I’ll give you all the benefits you want, darlin’.” He leaned over and landed a kiss on her temple. “I’ll stop and get a box of condoms after I see the doctor.”

  Her answering squeak did something to his insides.

  “Does that mean I should get two?” He dropped another kiss at her ear, awareness zinging through him.

  She answered, voice breathy with anticipation. “What size box are you talking about?”

  A laugh rumbled around in his chest. “Forty, if I get the variety pack.”

  She squeaked again. “One’s probably fine. For now.”

  “For now,” he echoed, tracing her jawline with his mouth. Waiting today might possibly kill him.

  CHAPTER 23

  Normally, Lydia kept her phone on vibrate while she was in the booth. She hated the way phones interrupted conversations, and she always wanted potential clients to feel like they were the most important person in the booth.

  But not today.

  Not when she was waiting on pins and needles to find out if Colt would need surgery. It bothered her that he wouldn’t let her accompany him. But he was right, her presence wouldn’t change the outcome, and she’d secured five more boot orders this morning. That put her total up to twenty orders. Exhilarating, affirming, and also terrifying. She’d already ordered leather and lasts so she could hit the ground running once she returned to Prairie, but doubt chased her. Working around the clock, she’d made a pair a week, but that pace wasn’t sustainable.

  In the back of her head, she could hear Emma Sinclaire reminding her that scarcity was a good thing. But not when a potential client could walk two aisles over and procure a pair of boots for the same price in half the time. With her heart in her throat, she’d quoted a bride a three-month wait on a pair of rhinestone embellished boots.

  It could be worse.

  She could have spent all this time making a portfolio and leave San Antonio with no orders. She’d known aspiring shoe designers in New York that had gone broke before they got off the ground. Custom-made cowboy boots held a mystique that the average stiletto couldn’t match. And the two-page spread the local paper had printed on her, hadn’t hurt either. The writer found a female boot designer a bit of a novelty and had angled the article to highlight the scarcity of women in rodeo, both in the arena and in the exhibition hall. Colt had been so proud, he bought twenty copies of the paper and insisted on mailing one home to her mother, which meant everyone in Prairie had read it by now.

  Her phone vibrated and started playing Supertramp’s Give a Little Bit. It had to be Colt. He must have figured out how to mess with her ringtones. “Nice song choice,” she said wryly as she smiled into the phone.

  His low laugh tickled her ear. “Paybacks, darlin’.”

  “Careful what you start, cowboy. I’ve got more songs up my sleeve.”

  “Bring it.”

  She turned serious. “Well? What’s the news?” Her heart beat erratically, and she squeezed shut her eyes, bracing for the worst.

  “I’m clean. Doc said all that yoga probably saved me from a tear.”

  Hot relief swept through her and her knees wobbled so hard, she dropped into a chair. “Oh, I’m so glad.”

  “Not half as glad as me.” His voice lowered. “But as long as you don’t tie me to the bedpost, I should be okay.”

  Wet heat burst between her legs, and she let out a nervous giggle. “No tying you up. At least not tonight,” she added impishly. Let him stew on that for a while. “Where are you?”

  “Look behind you.”

  She swiveled the chair around, to see him strolling down the aisle holding the phone to his hear and holding a bag. Condoms? No, there was more in the bag than a box of condoms. It looked more like take-out. She disconnected and tossed the phone into her bag, walking to meet him halfway. Even from a distance, she could see the relief on his face and a lightness in his step. “What’s in the bag?” She wrapped her arms around his waist, standing on tiptoe to feather a kiss across his jaw.

  He turned his head and caught her mouth with his. The kiss turned hot and forgetting herself, she pressed against him, running her hand up his arm. She didn’t know what it was about the way his rock-hard triceps fit against her palm, but the sensation acted like a match, igniting a fire inside her. He pulled back, gazing down at her through heavy-lidded eyes that spoke volumes. “Sustenance.”

  “I can close up early,” she offered, heart
kicking erratically.

  “I don’t mind waiting.”

  “I do.” She stepped out of his embrace and took his hand, leading him back to her booth, where she hurried to put things away, profoundly aware of Colt’s eyes tracking her like a wolf ready to pounce.

  He wasn’t the only one ready to pounce.

  Her body hummed with anticipation as she locked her boots away and refilled the brochure dispenser. Turning back to him with an impish smile, she held out her hand. “Ready?”

  “More than you know.” His eyes lit with hunger.

  Twining her fingers with his, she pulled him in for another slow kiss. “Let’s get out of here.”

  He walked so fast toward the exit, she skipped to keep up with his long strides, pulse thrumming, propelling her forward. Without saying a word, Colt wove through the crowd, pushed open the door, and doubled his pace through the parking lot. When he reached the truck, he spun, pushing her against the cab and bracing an arm above her. Before she could speak, his mouth crashed down, tongue sweeping into her mouth with a possessiveness that stole her breath. Melting into him, she responded in kind, threading her fingers through his hair and knocking his Stetson to the ground.

  “I want you so bad, I could take you right here,” he rasped when they pulled apart.

  “Really? Do you think anyone would notice?” She’d never done anything as scandalous as have sex in public, but Colt brought out her reckless side, and the thought of dropping his jeans for a wild ride in broad daylight made her clit throb with want. And oh, how she wanted him. Shocking and delighting her with his hands, his tongue.

  His low laugh tickled her ear, sending jolts of anticipation through her, tightening her nipples and soaking her panties. She was so ready, it wouldn’t take long. “I have a condom in my bag.”

  Again, his laugh danced over her skin like a sparkler. “Always prepared.”

  “Always.” Her fingers played with the buttons on his shirt. She cocked an eyebrow as she pulled the top button free.

  He momentarily looked discomfited, but then his cocky smile returned. “Far be it from me to say no to a lady in need. But then we’re going straight back to the room and not leaving the bed until I’ve properly loved you up. Multiple times.”

  Her pussy throbbed eagerly. “Promise?” At this rate all he’d need to do was brush her clit, and she’d come on his hand.

  He opened the door, then lifted her up on the running board, eyes blazing hotter than the afternoon sun. “You sure about this?”

  “If you’re worried I won’t come, don’t.” She pulled off a boot, tossing it to the mat. Next, she unzipped her pants, shimmied them down and pulled out a leg.

  Colt tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You look like you’ve done this before.”

  Her cheeks flushed as she shook her head. “Just have an imagination,” she said as she let her knees fall open.

  His breath halted. “I like your imagination,” he said with a rough edge to his voice as he reached to touch her.

  She dropped her head at his feather-light caress. “I swear, Colt. I’m ready.”

  He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head, and dug into her purse, rooting until he lifted out the sole condom left over from her stash. She’d removed them from her purse before coming to San Antonio, but had found a stray one earlier while she’d been reapplying her lipstick.

  His belt buckle jingled as he loosened it and dropped his pants.

  “Oh,” Lydia gasped as she laid eyes on his heavy, hard erection.

  His eyebrows jumped with pleasure at her gasp, as he rolled on the condom. “All for you, babe. Now lift your hips.”

  Hooking her leg around his hips, she pushed back on the side of the seat and angled her hips to receive him. He pushed into her with a grunt, and she swore she could feel him at the deepest part of herself. Clasping her neck, he pulled her mouth to his, as he thrust again. The friction acted like a match on a trail of gunpowder, sending heat racing through her. And maybe it was the danger of being discovered, but every nerve ending was firing, acting in concert to barrel her toward an explosive orgasm.

  Colt’s mouth landed on her neck, his breath coming in ragged pulses. But it was his teeth scraping her skin that sent her over the edge in a whoosh of white light. He followed her, ass clenching and hips thrusting so powerfully she thought she might split.

  Hours later, as they lay spent on the bed back in the hotel room, limbs entwined, she traced a finger along the curve of his tattoo. “Don’t you think you need to rest now?”

  “Hmm.” His thumb made lazy circles on her hip. “I’ve got four days to recover. Another day or two of this and I’ll be in good shape for the semis and the finals.” He spoke with the confidence of a man who knew he was on top of the world.

  But Lydia’s stomach clenched at the thought of returning to Prairie alone in eight days’ time. Pushing the thought from her mind, she continued to trace the intricate design, fascinated with how his muscle rippled under her touch. Here and now was what mattered. Not the heartbreak that would come when their wild ride inevitably came to a screeching halt.

  CHAPTER 24

  Colt’s hands tapped an erratic rhythm on the steering wheel, his foot itching to press the gas pedal to the floor. The closer he drew to Prairie, the slower the time passed. But he knew better than to push eighty in a thirty-five. Weston Tucker, Prairie’s new police chief, would happily write him a big old ticket with a smile on his face.

  When they’d talked on the phone the night before, he’d informed Lydia he’d be stopping by Resolution Ranch first, before coming to see her. She’d agreed that was a good idea, but he could hear the disappointment in her voice. He’d be the first to admit, he liked it. More than a part of him had worried that she’d changed her mind after not seeing him in person for a month. They’d FaceTimed nearly every day for the duration, but that wasn’t the same. Something his body could attest to. He’d been sporting a semi the last hundred miles as he imagined reacquainting himself with all of Lydia’s sensitive spots. His mind began to race as he hit the outskirts of town. By the time he hit Prairie’s only stoplight, his mind was made up. Instead of going straight and heading out to his brother’s, he turned left down Main and drove the six blocks to Lydia’s. Travis and Elaine could wait.

  Lydia came bounding out of the house as he cut the engine. His throat tightened at the sweetness of her. How could she have grown prettier in the month? Somehow, she had. He hopped out of the truck, catching her in an embrace and swinging her around, not caring if the neighbors saw. He was home.

  The comprehension stopped him mid-circle, and he pushed it out of his mind as quickly as it entered. He had a ranch in Steamboat. Prairie was no longer his home. He was just glad to see Lydia, missed the sweet taste of her. That was all. He took her mouth to prove the point to himself.

  She twined her arms around his neck, kissing him back enthusiastically. Their breathing was ragged when they separated. “I missed you too.” She grinned up at him.

  The tenderness in her eyes made his stomach lurch. “Let’s get you inside,” he urged, ignoring the sensation in his belly. “Don’t want those neighbors to get any ideas.”

  She made a noise that sounded a lot like frustration. “Right.”

  He followed her inside, stopping short at the overwhelming scent of leather. The living room had been transformed into a factory. Leather and lace strewn over every surface, a dress form in the corner, two industrial machines, one with a partially completed pair of boots next to it. He let out a low whistle, eyes widening. “You’ve been busy.”

  “Yeah. You have no idea. We just have to get through the boot shoot, day after tomorrow.” She let out a sigh, body sagging in exhaustion. Colton kicked himself for not noticing sooner. He’d been too happy to see her to look closely. He narrowed his gaze, scanning her from top to bottom. Tension pulled at her shoulders, but it was her hands that alarmed him. They were red and swollen, curled in from too many
hours of using scissors and needles. “What happened?” he barked, reaching for her and taking her hand, turning it palm up. The tips of her fingers were torn up. “You’ve been working too hard,” he stated flatly, challenging her to deny it. Let her try, he was having none of it.

  She shrugged. “Maybe. Gotta get these orders filled.”

  “Not by ruining your body. How many hours are you bent over that machine?” He tipped his head toward the one with the boot next to it.

  “I don’t know. Twelve, maybe fourteen hours?”

  He let out a fierce growl, pulling her to the couch. “Sit.”

  She collapsed into the pillows with a reluctant sigh. “I wasn’t expecting you until later.”

  “Good thing I showed up now. You need a rest.”

  She pulled her hand, but not very forcefully. “I need to finish this order before we do the boot shoot.”

  “Not until you’ve had a rest.” He took her hand in both of his, working his thumbs across the palm of her hand, pressing firmly into her thumb pad.

  “Ow,” she yelped.

  “Relax your arm. Hell, shut your eyes. Let me work on this.” He attacked the tight muscles with all the techniques he’d learned. “You really need a professional to work on you, but hopefully this will give you some relief.”

  “We don’t have a masseuse here.”

  He made a disapproving noise. “Then while I’m home, I’ll drive you up to see someone in Manhattan.”

  Her head dropped back to the top of the couch, and she shut her eyes. “When I catch up with the orders.”

  He had half a mind to throw her over his shoulder and drive her to Manhattan right now. “You won’t be able to finish your orders if you let this go any longer. How bad does it hurt?”