Killer Cowboy (Cowboys of Holiday Ranch)

by Carla Cassidy

  He wanted to take her hard and fast. Yet he also wanted to take it slow and easy to discover everything there was to know about her body.

  “Dillon,” she moaned his name as he slid his hand down her flat stomach to the edge of her panties. She arched her hips as if anticipating his touch, and any thoughts he might have had in his mind flew away. There was just him and Cassie and wonderful pleasure.

  She helped him take off her panties and he tossed them on the floor next to the bed, leaving her beautifully naked in the purple shadows of night. He kissed her again. His fingers played against the very center of her, making her gasp with pleasure.

  “Oh, yes,” she whispered as she arched her hips to meet his touch. He slipped a finger into her warm wetness, and her muscles constricted around him.

  He knew exactly when she reached her release. Her body stiffened and she appeared to stop breathing. She shuddered and went boneless. Her eyes flew open and she gasped, “Take me now, Dillon. Please... I want you now.”

  He couldn’t get his boxers off fast enough. He got the condom and rolled it on, then poised himself between her thighs. Every muscle in his body trembled in anticipation.

  “Yes,” she whispered and reached up to him.

  She grabbed his shoulders as he slowly eased into her. He closed his eyes, momentarily overwhelmed by the sweet, hot sensation of being inside her.

  He was almost afraid to move, fearing that it would be over before it really began. He drew several deep breaths to center himself and then he truly made love to the woman who’d had him aroused for what seemed like forever.

  She met him thrust for thrust, her fingernails biting into his shoulders. They moved faster...more frantic, and his fragile control spiraled away.

  His explosive climax rocked through him and he was vaguely aware of her crying out his name as he stiffened against her. Still locked with her, he bent his head down and captured her lips with his.

  The kiss was long and sweet and threatened to stir him all over again. When it ended he rolled to the side of the bed, grabbed his boxers and went into the adjoining bathroom.

  He turned on the light and stared at his reflection in the mirror above the sink. “What in the hell do you think you are doing?” he asked the man who looked back at him. And why in the hell did he already want to do it all over again?

  He had nothing to offer her but a physical relationship. He’d given up on love when Stacy had left him, and allowing himself to develop any real feelings for Cassie would be foolish. How many times did he have to remind himself of these facts?

  There was no way to deny that they shared an intense sexual attraction to each other, but he needed her to understand that was all he was willing to give her, and in any case it shouldn’t happen again.

  He cleaned up and pulled his boxers on, all the while his mind going over the conversation he and Cassie needed to have. He had to make her understand that this had been a one-time deal. He was here to protect her, not to indulge in a hot fling that had no future for either of them.

  Stepping out of the bathroom he resolved to talk to her right now, before she got any ideas about what had just happened between them and what it might mean in the days going forward.

  While he’d been in the bathroom she’d pulled on a navy blue nightgown and turned on the bedside lamp. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips looked slightly swollen and her hair was in charming disarray. She looked utterly gorgeous, which made the conversation he needed to have with her all the more difficult. Especially when all he really wanted to do was fall back into bed with her.

  “Cassie, we need to talk.”

  “Popcorn,” she replied. She slid out of the bed and stood facing him. “I’m in the mood for some popcorn. Why don’t I make some and we can build a fire in the fireplace and watch a movie together?”

  “Cassie...” he began again.

  “Please, Dillon. This was the best thing that has happened to me since I moved to Bitterroot and took over this godforsaken ranch. Don’t take it away from me right now. At least give me this one night to feel good.”

  Her eyes shimmered with the need for him to grant her a stay of execution. Just one night, that was all she wanted right now. Surely he could talk to her about this in the morning and make her understand where he was coming from.

  He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “What movie are we watching?”

  Chapter 9

  Cassie stood in the kitchen, the scent and sound of the microwave popcorn filling the air. Dillon was in the great room building a fire in the fireplace.

  Dillon. He’d taken her breath away. He’d loved her body like it had never been loved ever. She grabbed the countertop, her knees threatening to weaken as she thought of what she’d just experienced with him.

  She’d fantasized about being intimate with him for months and those fantasies hadn’t begun to come close to the real thing. He’d been demanding, yet giving. He’d been gentle and powerful at the same time. He’d been exactly what she wanted...exactly what she needed.

  The popping of the corn slowed down and she moved to the microwave to take it out. The smell of the wood fire drifted into the kitchen. The house suddenly smelled like winter.

  Would she still be here on the ranch when the snow came, or would she be in a cramped New York apartment attempting once again to attain her dream?

  Maybe you’ll be dead.

  The horrifying words jumped into her mind and she consciously willed them away. She refused to think about the reason Dillon was here with her right now. The last thing she wanted to dwell on was thoughts of a killer when her body smelled of Dillon’s scent and was still warmed by their lovemaking.

  Tonight she just wanted to pretend that he was here because he loved her. She wanted to cuddle in his arms and lose herself in thoughts of what they’d just shared together.

  Juggling the popcorn bowl and two bottles of beer in her hands, she returned to the great room to see Dillon standing in front of the fireplace.

  Clad only in his boxers, he looked breathtakingly magnificent. The radiance of the fire danced along his broad shoulders, and shadows darted across his muscled back.

  He turned and gazed at her, and for a moment she feared he was going to tell her what a big mistake their making love had been. She tensed, but instead he smiled at her. “I didn’t think I was hungry after dinner, but that popcorn smells delicious.”

  She relaxed. “There’s nothing better on a chilly fall night than a fire and fresh popcorn and a cold beer.” And a handsome man to cuddle with, she added mentally. “You sit and I’ll put the movie in.” She set the bowl and the beers on the coffee table and noticed he’d carried his gun downstairs, and it now sat on the coffee table, as well. She then went to the cabinet that held a vast array of DVD movies. “Have you seen Married to a Deadly Diva?”

  He quirked a dark eyebrow upward. “Is that the real name of a movie?” She nodded. “Surely your aunt didn’t have that in her movie collection?”

  “No, it’s one of my favorite movies and I brought it with me when I moved here. I think you’ll like it. There’s lots of gunshots and stuff blowing up in it.”

  “Okay, I’m game.”

  She put the movie in and then walked back to the sofa. “Stretch out and make yourself comfortable,” she said. “We can be cuddle buddies for the movie.” He’d put a glow in her heart and she wasn’t ready to let it go yet.

  He lay on his side and she lay down in front of him, his body warm and welcome against her back. She pulled the popcorn bowl in front of her, snuggled into him and then the movie began.

  She’d already seen the movie before and she found her mind drifting as it played. It didn’t help her concentration each time Dillon reached over her to grab a handful of popcorn.

  His breath was warm on the back of her neck, and when he laughed the deep sound rumbled in his chest and resonated in the pit of her stomach. There was no question that she felt ridiculously close to him at th
e moment, both on a physical and an emotional level.

  In her former life she would have never taken the time to rest in a man’s arms and watch a movie. She’d been too busy chasing her own tail. But this felt right. He felt right and it scared her more than just a little bit.

  She didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t know what she was doing with him and she had no idea what she intended to do about her life, about her future.

  She frowned and focused on the television. She didn’t want to overthink things tonight. She just wanted to enjoy the moment because she had a feeling it might never happen again.

  Tomorrow in the light of day everything would be different. She’d seen it in his eyes when he’d come out of the bathroom...regret.

  She’d known what he’d wanted to talk about when he’d rejoined her in the bedroom. He’d wanted to tell her that they shouldn’t have slept together, that it was all one big mistake.

  But right now she didn’t feel any regret in the arm that hugged her tight against the length of him. She didn’t feel remorse in the hand that occasionally stroked her hair and softly roamed up and down her arm.

  The movie was almost over when a loud bang slammed the front of the house. She jumped up, her heart in her throat as he vaulted over her and grabbed his gun.

  “Stay right here,” he said tersely and headed for the entry. She heard him punch in the code. The front door opened and then closed and Cassie froze in place.

  All she could think about was the sound of the ax hitting her walls while she’d hidden in her closet. Was the killer back? Was he outside right now? Had he hit the house to lure Dillon out into the night?

  Oh, God, it was so dark outside. Dillon might not even see him coming until it was too late. A gun was no good if you didn’t see a target.

  Fear squeezed her throat, nearly choking her. Another bang sounded and a small scream released from her. What was happening out there?

  Imaginary visions flew through her mind...visions of Dillon trying to escape an ax-wielding madman. They were scenes from every horror film she’d ever watched in her life. A sob escaped her. The last thing she wanted was for Dillon to get hurt...or worse.

  She moved with baby steps, her legs wooden, so that she could see the front door. When it opened again who would come inside? Dillon or the killer? She held her breath until she was forced to expel it.

  The door swam in her vision as tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She didn’t understand why it was happening.

  Should she arm herself? Should she run into the kitchen and grab a knife? What good was a knife against an ax? Still, it would be something. Before she could put thoughts to action the front door opened again and Dillon came back inside.

  “Oh, thank God you’re okay,” she cried and ran toward him. She threw her arms around him and held him tight, her frantic heart beating against his steady one.

  “I’m okay, Cassie,” he said. His skin was cold against hers and she wanted to warm him. “Cassie, everything is fine,” he said and gently untangled her arms from around him.

  She stepped back from him as her racing heartbeat slowed. “What was the noise?”

  “The wind has come up and one of the shutters on the front of the house is loose. That’s what is banging,” he replied. “Tomorrow when I get back here from work I’ll get a couple of nails and take care of it. And speaking of work, I think it’s time I call it a night.”

  “But what about the movie? You haven’t seen the end.” She tried to get her emotions, specifically the residual fear, out of her head.

  “I know how it ends.” He turned to the small keypad on the wall and rearmed the alarm. He looked at her once again. “The heroine blows up the bad guy in his car and then returns to her husband, who forgives her for everything.”

  “How did you know that?” she asked in surprise. “I thought you’d never seen it before.”

  He smiled, although the gesture didn’t quite reach his gray eyes. “I haven’t. Fiction is usually pretty predictable. It’s real life that isn’t. I’ll take the popcorn into the kitchen and you can turn off the television and then why don’t we both head to bed?”

  She put the movie away and turned off the television and together they climbed the stairs. When they reached the landing and the entrance to the first bedroom he turned to her. “I’ll probably be gone in the morning when you get up. I’ll check in throughout the day and will plan on being back here around suppertime. And you know what you need to do.”

  She nodded. “Keep the alarm on and don’t let anyone inside the house.”

  “That’s right, and now I’ll just say good-night.” He stepped into the room with the two twin beds.

  She wanted to ask him to sleep in her bed, to hold her in his arms while she drifted off to asleep. But whatever warm, cuddly mood they had established before the shutter had banged into the side of the house was gone.

  “Good night, Dillon,” she replied and then headed down the hallway to her own bedroom.

  She crawled into bed and grabbed the spare pillow and hugged it to her chest. It smelled of Dillon’s cologne. Fiction was predictable and real life wasn’t. His words played in her mind.

  She couldn’t have predicted that a killer would come after her and Dillon would move in here and they’d make love. She certainly couldn’t have foreseen that he’d touch her heart in a way it had never been touched before.

  But he wasn’t looking for love. She knew with a woman’s intuition that he regretted them falling into bed together. She wasn’t looking for love, either. She didn’t need love in her life; what she needed was to be somebody. She needed to prove to her parents that she was worth something.

  She pushed away the pillow that held Dillon’s scent and turned over on her back. She stared at the ceiling and focused on her latest painting. Maybe if she added some ochre to the treetops it would emphasize the sensation of the approaching storm.

  If she sold the ranch she would have enough money to get an apartment in New York and focus solely on painting. She would be living her dream.

  The opportunity was right in front of her; all she had to do was reach out and take it. She’d be back where there were restaurants and shopping, where she could interact with other artists and hopefully build a name.

  She could put this dusty Oklahoma town and its cowboys behind her and enjoy being back in the city. So what was holding her back?

  * * *

  He couldn’t sleep. The vision of a scantily clad Cassie in Dillon’s bare arms had torched a white-hot hatred through him that wouldn’t go away.

  One peek through one of the great room’s windows had confirmed to him that they’d been intimate...were intimate. How else to explain them being half naked on the sofa together?

  He’d immediately flashed back to one particularly cold November night years before. He’d been nine years old and his mother had taken him to a cheap motel where he was told to sit in the car and wait for her.

  He’d waited for what felt like forever. The icy winter air had drifted into the cracked window in the car’s backseat and he’d felt as if he was slowly freezing to death.

  He’d finally been unable to stand it any longer. He’d gotten out of the car and approached the motel room. The curtains were pulled, but not quite tight on one side.

  He’d peeked in to see his mother and her latest lover in the bed and cuddling while they laughed and watched something on the television.

  They appeared to be happy to stay in their positions for another few hours. And why wouldn’t they? They were nice and warm.

  He’d crept back to the car with hatred burning in his heart, and that hatred was what had kept him warm until his mother had finally returned to drive them home. When he’d complained to her about how cold he was, she’d backhanded him with a vicious slap that had stung for hours.

  He now jerked out of bed and pulled on his jeans and jacket. He was too wired up to sleep. The old memories and Cas
sie’s utter betrayal had definitely wound him up. Maybe a little fresh air would help.

  It was after midnight and the big house was dark in the distance. Cassie and Dillon were probably in bed together at this very moment. He clenched his fists at his sides. Maybe it was time to rid this town of the chief of police as well as the pretty whore.

  “Hey, what are you doing up?”

  He turned to see Mac McBride sitting in a folding chair outside his room. “I could ask you the same thing,” he said.

  “I’m blaming it on the moon,” Mac replied and pointed to the full moon that lit the sky.

  “I don’t know what my problem is. I just thought a couple of deep breaths of fresh air would help me relax and go to sleep.”

  “Hope it helps. I’m ready to head in and give sleep a chance.” Mac stood and grabbed the folding chair. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Bright and early,” he replied.

  Once Mac had disappeared back into his room, he leaned against his door and drew in deep, slow breaths. His gaze remained on the dark, two-story house in the distance.

  Cassie. Her name burned in his soul, creating a sickness inside him that he had to heal. He could be patient. He could wait as long as it took. But he knew the only way for him to get himself well was to kill her.

  Chapter 10

  One of the most important duties Dillon did as chief of police was to walk the streets of his town and let people see he was present and ready to help them. And this morning he needed the physical activity and interaction with friendly folks more than ever to take his mind off the night before.

  Holding Cassie in his arms while they watched the movie had felt like home to him. That particular scene had been one he’d fantasized about for himself long ago. A woman to laugh with, a woman to share with and the warmth of a woman in his arms on a cold night; yes, those had been some of his dreams years before.