Cowboy 12 Pack
Page 119
“Today if you wouldn’t mind.”
As he sauntered toward the door, he saw her eyes widen just a fraction. She was a tall woman, but he topped her by nearly six inches. She stuck her chin up and met his gaze.
He ran a finger down her cheek, which was as soft as a goose feather. A shiver of pleasure streaked through him again at the thought of her straddling him.
“I’ll see you later, little darlin’.”
She didn’t react for a moment as he stepped down the two stairs to the ground. Then he heard the trailer door slam behind him, hard enough that he was surprised the windows didn’t crack.
Hank smiled at the blue sky and headed for his truck to wait for Ms. TJ Maguire to come out of her hidey-hole.
*
TJ WAS PISSED. She was also aroused. That man was enough to set her teeth on fire and make her gnash them at the same time. It was as if he just thought if he hung around long enough, she would give in and change the disqualification. Maybe because he was such an incredible looking man. On the other hand, maybe he was trying to annoy the hell out of her.
Neither reason mattered because it almost worked. While she was talking to Charlotte, he just stared at her like he was looking at a bug under a microscope. When he started humming, she about threw her cell phone at him. Then he told her she didn’t act like a woman! She was mad enough to chew a hole in the side of the damn aluminum trailer.
And then, oh, yes, then he had touched her face with one long, callused finger, sending a shudder careening down her body straight to her nipples and pussy. When he called her “little darlin’”—that’s when she knew he was full of it.
Bullshit! That’s what he was made of. Six and a half feet of bullshit.
But damn! That infuriating man aroused her enough that her panties were damp and her pussy throbbed a bit.
Truth be told, TJ didn’t indulge with the opposite sex often, so she had all kinds of toys and self-gratifying objects to keep her sexually satisfied. Hell, most times she didn’t need anything more than her own fingers to get the relief she needed.
She had the insane notion to find him and make him service her needs. He would probably think she would lift the disqualification if he did.
Not!
She was finally able to walk back to her desk without stomping. Sitting down in her chair, she tried to focus on the details for the ad campaign she and Charlotte had discussed, but it wasn’t working.
She was too wound up. Perhaps she’d take a walk around the ranch and see how things were progressing with the bleachers and the stands that were being erected for the rodeo.
Her decision made, TJ closed her laptop, cleaned up her desk, and made piles of the items she still needed to address. She stuck her cell phone in its holster and clipped it to her belt. She picked up her black Stetson and popped it on her head.
As she walked toward the trailer door, she had a terrible thought and dismissed it. She did not—no siree, don’t even think it!—want to run into Hank Beltane.
Chapter Two
‡
ALL THAT WOMAN did was work. His mother would say, “Bless her heart, she forgot how to have fun, Henry.”
That was the damn truth. Hank trailed along behind TJ all afternoon. If she wasn’t yakking on the phone, she was fiddling with it, her fingers flying faster than a hive of bees, or inspecting something around the Mission Viejo Ranch. She was like a possessed, super businesswoman out to save the world from pleasure and the simple things in life.
He did enjoy actually watching her though. The sway of her hips, the way she blew her hair out of her eyes by pooching out her lower lip and blowing hard. Strange, he’d never liked women with shoulder-length hair, but hers was just right. The color was fabulous too. It practically caught on fire when the sunlight hit it. She was a good-looking woman.
She finally spotted him and shot him a scalding glare when she stopped at the corral to look at the mustangs. They were a beautiful bunch of horses. Sassy and untamed, flipping their tails in the air as they went by her. She laughed and Hank realized he’d never heard such a sexy laugh before in a woman. Deep throated and natural. Just like TJ.
He had to slow down. He was supposed to be annoying her, not letting her seduce him!
He mentally slapped himself and realized that was what he needed to do. Seduce her.
*
TJ TRIED TO ignore Hank, but he was so damn big it was impossible. He followed her around, at a distance, for at least two hours. It was enough to give her the jitters. By five thirty, she’d had enough and decided it was time to go eat.
She was walking past the stables when she realized Hank was gone. She turned and looked around the courtyard and did not see him. A couple of the more playful horses stuck their heads out as she passed by. She petted and scratched a few velvety noses. Waiting for him? Oh hell no.
She walked quickly across the dusty ground toward the Bar T trailer. By the time she got there, she still hadn’t seen him. Maybe he gave up. Yeah, and that was a pig she saw flying by.
She would go to her favorite pizza place in Santa Estrella—Monty’s Pizza. He was a retired Brooklyn restaurateur who made the best pizza in three counties. Last year, she discovered him when they were in town for the rodeo. She ended up over there every other night. Monty would always come out and chat with her for a few minutes too. He was a sweet old man.
She got to the trailer and went up the steps quickly. Stepping inside, she walked to her desk and flipped open her laptop to check her e-mail quickly.
“You know, some people actually do things besides work.”
Hank’s voice startled her enough that she jumped. She hadn’t heard him enter, which was a feat in itself, because he was too big to be silent.
“Jesus! Don’t sneak up on people like that!” she snapped. When she looked up, she saw him leaning against the wall. He had one tanned thumb hooked in his belt loop. His sinfully tight blue jeans stretched across his well-endowed body. The green T-shirt he was wearing, a little ragged around the edges, wrapped lovingly around the muscles in his arms, shoulders and chest. His ponytail was hanging over his shoulder, the ends near his belly button. Happy trails!
How could one man look so goddamn good? She wanted to get a can of whipped cream and cover him with it, then lick it all off.
Down, girl. He’s just a cowboy after an easy lay or an easy way out of a sticky situation.
He smiled. “Thought maybe you could have dinner with me.”
“Busy.”
“I’m buying.”
She rolled her eyes and continued to type. It was all just a bunch of gobbledygook, but he didn’t know that.
“C’mon, Red. You know you want to.”
She tried to glare at him, but it was so hard when he could clearly see her nipples were pointing at him like high beams.
“Can I call you Henry?”
One tawny eyebrow arched up high. “Do you really want to?”
She couldn’t lie. “No.”
The smile returned. “Good. I like Hank better. Or maybe later you can call me something else.”
“Maybe later I will.”
“Just so you know, I prefer ‘Stallion’.”
“I was thinking ‘Buttercup’.”
“Just as long as you don’t call me ‘Gelding’.”
She laughed. Oh, it felt so good to flirt again! She hadn’t felt comfortable enough to flirt with someone for a long time. For some reason, it felt natural with Hank.
“I know we got started on the wrong foot, but I do really want to have dinner with you.”
“I’m not going to change my mind about the disqualification,” she warned, as the idea of having dinner with Hank was looking better and better.
“Well, you can’t blame me if I try?”
TJ closed her laptop and stood. “As long as you know it’s not going to work.”
He smiled and bowed to her. “I like a woman who knows her limits.”
She shook her
head. “Do you like pizza?”
“Monty’s?”
She looked at him in surprise. “You know Monty?”
“He has to turn on a second rack of ovens when I come by.”
She laughed again. “You’re a big man. You must have a big appetite.”
The lids on his blue eyes dipped a bit as he looked her up and down very slowly. The perusal was enough to reignite her sleeping arousal.
“You have no idea.”
*
MONTY’S WAS A little restaurant holding about ten tables with mismatched chairs. The plastic tabletops were in a cheesy red-and-white checker pattern. A bright orange-and-blue neon sign in the window threw a weird light over the entire place as it mixed with the fluorescent glare from the overheads. There was a constant smell of tomato, garlic and grease. But the pizza. The pizza was hands-on scrumptious.
Hank was not kidding about his appetite. He ate an entire extra-large pizza by himself. He’d ordered her one too, then proceeded to consume half of it himself. He had to have drunk at least two liters of Coke. He was a serious eater and didn’t speak much while he was busy. Then he’d charmed her further by talking about things and asking her questions about herself. What man asked about the woman? Most were too concerned with their own selves to care about her. Hank, to her surprise, was different. They’d talked for quite some time about so many subjects she forgot he was trying to romance her.
TJ was nibbling on the crust of a slice of pepperoni pizza and studying Hank as he chatted with Monty.
Monty was a little man, with thinning, graying hair, a shiny pate and eyebrows that resembled caterpillars. He was thin and a bit stooped, with long fingers liberally sprinkled with gray and black hair. He also gestured wildly with his hands and arms when he spoke.
She had insisted on driving her own truck and meeting him there. He hadn’t been happy about it, but he hadn’t bucked her decision either.
“So you agree with me, then?” Hank said.
“Absolutely! Cara, you need to let Hank compete in the calf roping,” Monty said as his arms circled around once.
She pursed her lips. “Dirty pool, Buttercup. You can’t recruit people.”
“You didn’t make that clear in the rules.”
She tossed the crust on her grease spotted paper plate. “Well, I’m making it clear now. No recruiting!”
“See, Monty? She won’t be nice to me.”
“I’ll be nice to you tomorrow. Or the next day.”
Hank smiled and TJ had to remind herself that he was after one thing, and it wasn’t to get laid. It was to compete in the calf roping.
She looked at her watch and was surprised to see that it was ten thirty already. How the hell had she sat here for four hours? She knew they’d talked for a while but she’d had no idea it had been that long.
“Time to go, Red?”
She scowled at him, “I wish you’d stop calling me that. Do you know how many times people have called me that in my lifetime? I want to be a person, not a hair color.”
Hank held up in hands in mock surrender, then stood, bowed at the waist and held out his hand to her. She hesitantly placed her hand in his.
Oh, Lord, that was a mistake.
His hand was rough and callused, with long, strong fingers. The kind that would know exactly how to please a woman. A shiver raced down her spine and headed straight for her pink polished toes.
“Okay, then, Cinnamon Girl, I apologize for my disregard of your finer sensibilities.”
He leaned toward her and raised one tawny eyebrow. Up close his eyes were so blue, she thought she was looking at the sky.
“May I escort you to your chariot?”
She couldn’t help it. She smiled. He was too damn charming. She decided to play his game, so she stood and did what amounted to a half-ass curtsey.
“Yes, you may, good sir.”
Monty looked at them and shook his grizzled head. “You folks are crazy. I see you soon, no?”
Both Hank and TJ assured him that they would see him within days. The pizza was too damn good not to come back.
They walked out the door with Hank right on TJ’s heels. He had cupped his hand on her elbow, a gentlemanly thing to do, and it felt weird. She wanted to ask him to move it, but then again, she didn’t. When they got to her truck, he spun her around and before she could even blink, kissed her.
Now here was a dessert she could get used to. His lips were soft, but firm. Plump, yet sexy. Yes, indeed, she liked the menu. Hell, he was just trying to seduce her into giving in!
“Why did you do that?”
He looked innocent. “Do what?”
“I’m not going to change my mind because you kissed me.”
“Can’t blame me for trying.”
“Go back to your cave, Buttercup.”
His grin lit up that handsome face again. “You go back to your lair, Red.”
TJ climbed into her truck, started it, put it in Reverse, and made a promise to herself not to have high hopes about Hank Beltane.
Chapter Three
‡
HANK WAS WAITING at the trailer for her when she got there in the morning at eight o’clock.
“Son of a bitch!” she cursed as she parked her truck next to the trailer. “Doesn’t the man have anything else to do?”
Getting out of the truck, she grabbed her coffee cup and headed for trouble. As she passed, she glared at him.
“Good morning, Cinnamon Girl.”
Her response was a snort. He didn’t follow her into the trailer after she unlocked it and went inside. In fact, he just settled himself down beneath a cottonwood tree outside and stretched out those long legs like he was getting ready for a nap.
What the hell?
TJ worked like a madwoman all morning. She tried not to think about him. Sitting outside doing nothing. He wasn’t stalking her, per se, he was just there.
At lunchtime, she debated whether to call Pablo, her assistant manager, to get some lunch from the roach coach that rolled in, but decided against it.
He wasn’t going to win this time!
She shut her laptop and grabbed her keys and phone. When she stepped out into the sunshine and heat, she remembered how much she hated hot weather. More than the man sitting in the shade of the tree.
She walked past him without a word. He just smiled and let her go with a “See you later, Cinnamon Girl.”
For three days, the stalemate continued. He would talk and she would ignore. Now, it was hard to ignore such a fine specimen of a man. He was, to be honest, a helluva good-looking man and she’d really like to see what he was like under the sheets.
On the fifth day of their “acquaintance”, she found out a lot more about what was under Hank’s clothes. And vice versa.
TJ was down by the bullpens, inspecting and making sure that the paperwork matched the animals. She occasionally discovered an owner had cheated. As a consequence, she was always thorough in her inspections.
It was a good thing her parents hadn’t named her Grace. When a bucket decided to jump in front of her, she decided to trip over it and make a complete ass of herself. What she didn’t expect was to have a pair of strong arms try to stop her inglorious fall. That surely had not happened before.
His arms felt like steel beams beneath her. She landed on them with enough force to knock the breath out of her lungs. Unfortunately, her descent was still in progress, and she took him down with her. There was no stopping gravity. He turned her in time to stop her from landing face first.
She landed on the concrete floor, littered with hay, stale manure and God knows what else. Then, he slammed on top of her.
Now, it had been extremely pleasant, or more so, to land on him five days ago. She had been pressed up against him then, but it had been so brief, she hadn’t really felt enough. However, to have him on top of her was like being stuck in a furnace. Naked.
He was so hot. Literally. The man felt like a sculptor had carved him out o
f granite. Perfect muscle and bone blended to create a body that would probably stop a bullet. Her body was rising to him. Like two magnets pulled together.
“Damn, girl,” he ground out. “You feel good.”
She thought he felt damn good too; she also couldn’t get air back in her lungs. He was heavy, pressing down on her, but, oh, it was wonderful. She wiggled her hips and felt his hard dick pressing into her cleft. Just a bit to the left.
Holy shit.
“Keep it up and we’re gonna shock the neighbors, Cinnamon Girl.”
His whispered words fluttered across her lips right before he kissed her again. This wasn’t the goodnight kiss from a few days ago. This was a deliciously deep kiss that she felt all the way down to her toes.
His lips were as hard and strong as the rest of him. They captured her lips relentlessly, nibbling, sucking and biting. Then his tongue snaked out and licked her lips from one side to the other. She moaned as her nipples grew harder and she opened her mouth wide for his questing tongue.
His tongue slipped between her lips and began a meandering path through her mouth, caressing, stroking, poking, at the same time as his hand landed on one breast. Firm fingers rolled an excruciatingly hard nipple back and forth between them, driving her crazy with desire.
It was enough to bring her to the brink of an orgasm.
She forgot she was lying on the floor. She forgot she was in a public place. All she wanted to do was rip his clothes off and find out if he was as good naked as he was clothed.
“Ah, excuse me, folks, but what in the hell are you doing on the floor?” said an amused voice from above them.
She opened her eyes to find Hank Beltane three inches from her nose. As if she could forget who she’d been kissing. His pupils dilated and his nostrils flared a bit like a stallion scenting a mare in heat. Then he released that devastating grin again.
“Oops.”
She was absolutely mortified. To be rutting on the ground like a couple of teenagers. And to be caught! God, she was never going to live this down.
“Get off me, Buttercup,” she said through gritted teeth.