by Em Petrova
She wanted that man, in a way she’d never wanted anyone. And no amount of arguing with herself was going to help. She backed against a wall and tried to control the thumping of her heart as the Calhouns thundered toward her.
They came on like a wave, with their own camera crews and groupies. One woman hooked West around the neck and leaped up for a kiss. He turned his head at the last second and ended up with a lipstick smear on his cheek. Malou did turn away then. Maybe she shouldn’t watch any of the rodeo—cowboys would need knees taped and swollen hands massaged before they went out.
But as soon as the announcer came on, she drifted forward again to watch the spectacle of a hundred cowboys getting down on one knee to say a prayer. She added her own, in her native tongue, and tried to keep her gaze off West.
Impossible.
He’s like fly paper. I’m stuck.
She twisted her fingers together and waited for the first event to begin.
A touch on her shoulder made her turn. She gulped in surprise to find Jay standing there, smiling, hat in hands. “How are ya, Malou?”
“I’m fine. I see you are too. You look well.”
“Not much that keeps me down. And look.” He rotated his arm in a way he never would have been able to do last time she’d seen him.
“Your shoulder’s healing well!” She ran her hand over the hard muscle, wishing like crazy she felt something for him. That he’d make her heart jump like West did. But she could only feel affection for him.
They talked about mundane things for a bit, but after the first events of bareback riding and steer wrestling, she had to excuse herself to tend some patients.
Each time the crowd noise would spike, she’d know a star took the arena. When was the tie-down roping event? She hated admitting to herself she wanted to watch West on his first day back. Somehow it was important that she saw him do his best, to know he was all right.
Now, why did she assume he was anything but a confident, happy-go-lucky cowboy? He’d never let on that he had any worries.
But part of doctoring was having a gut instinct, and she couldn’t look into West’s eyes and not believe he had things weighing on him.
She finished up with a patient sporting a strained calf muscle and sent him on his way with a wrap. That left no excuse not to watch the rodeo.
She drifted out front with a tingling of excitement she didn’t want to own. A few cowboys tipped their hats to her. She smiled in return and made her way to the front. Here, she had a clear view of the arena.
When the tie-down roping event was announced, her pulse picked up. She’d get a chance to see West compete.
A short distance away stood Channing with her own children and Asher Franklin’s dark-haired girls. When Channing pointed into the arena, they hung over the railing and held up a sign that said GO WEST.
Malou found herself as interested in watching the family as she was West. Maybe she was nothing more than a groupie, like every other Buckle Bunny following the rodeo stars. Or she was a fangirl for the Rope ‘n Ride show.
Then why did she still feel West’s touch in her dreams?
The tie-down ropers took centerstage as they were introduced. The crowd exploded when they reached West. Malou tried to control her quickened breaths. Okay, who was she kidding? She was trying not to drool all over herself. The man looked like a gorgeous sex god atop his horse.
When his name was called, he thumbed his hat brim in one of the more modest shows of thanks.
She was so busy thinking about seeing him face-to-face again that she totally missed the first rider. But the second one had her riveted. She gripped the rail like the little Franklin girls and stared unblinkingly as the gate opened and the calf came barreling out.
West was a scant hoofbeat behind, his arm in the air as he whipped his lasso. All that power had been atop her, moved within her. She gave a full body shiver as the lasso came down squarely on the calf.
Then he was off his horse, following the line to the calf, which he put down onto its side and tied up so quickly she wondered if she’d imagined it.
The crowd bellowed and stomped. Channing said something to the kids, who all yelled at the same time, even the youngest, who couldn’t be more than nine months old.
West looked up.
Straight at Malou.
She jerked under his hot stare. An eternity seemed to pass between them. Though they were quite a distance apart, she knew he was looking at her.
Suddenly, he twisted away and threw his hat into the air. She couldn’t help but grin at him—the cocky ass knew he’d won even before the others competed. Nobody could be faster.
He swung back onto his horse and held a forefinger up to the air, thanking the appropriate party. The crowd loved him even more. He might have been arrested for beating someone up and landing him in the hospital, but West was still adored.
Soon after, she got called away to see to a fan who’d had too many beers and had taken a fall. She stabilized him and sent him away to the hospital by ambulance. She was just leaving the makeshift clinic to go back out and watch the show when boot steps sounded.
She froze, her body recognizing what her mind hadn’t yet caught up to.
West stood before her in a line of shadow. She couldn’t see his face, but she read his intent.
He strode forward and she backed up. He caught her up in a blink, lifting her against him and slamming his mouth over hers. She sucked in a gasp, and he fed her his tongue. The dark, forbidden need she’d been battling for months swelled like a wave, overtaking her. She was dragged to the bottom of a sea of want.
He swiped his tongue through her mouth, sending sparks straight to her pussy. She cried out, and he clamped his hand around her hip, so low that she soaked her panties instantly.
He dragged his mouth away and stared down at her. She stared back, and what she saw in his eyes was far from a passing thing. His eyes shone with intensity.
She opened her mouth to say something, but he pressed his hand over it and yanked her flush against his body. “I have a hard muscle and you’re the only person who can take care of it.” His voice sounded as if he’d drunk a lot of whiskey, but he was totally sober.
She reached up and peeled his hand away from her mouth. “West…”
“Do you understand what I’m telling you, L’il Bit?” He might as well be clamping off her mouth again, because she couldn’t find words anyway. “Only you can make me feel better.”
Her breaths came in harsh pants. She nodded.
“Don’t try to leave before I come for you. We’re not finished.”
His word choice smacked her hard. She made a small gasping noise, and his eyes seemed to blur with desire—that same expression he got when he was deep inside her.
Her nipples throbbed, and she wanted desperately to rub against him.
Slowly, he lowered his head and claimed her mouth again. He nibbled her lower lip gently, murmuring between the tormenting bites. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Give me another chance.”
Her knees buckled as he moved to her neck and sucked a spot she hadn’t known would trigger such desire. She clasped his shoulders and pulled him closer. He growled against her neck, and if he hadn’t been holding her, she would have fallen over.
“I’ve gotta get back out there. Wyn’s about to ride.” He straightened and looked into her eyes. “Don’t leave me high and dry, Lou.”
“I… won’t.” Her voice was too raspy. That he could affect her this way went against everything she knew about herself.
She was a strong, independent woman, not a twittering Buckle Bunny looking for a meal ticket.
He did a push up on the wall around her, pressing a kiss between her brows. “Later.”
Then he walked away, leaving her hot and sweaty and too turned on to form a complete thought.
The only thing she knew for certain was she couldn’t walk away from West until she finished whatever was between them. If she didn’t, she’d never shake him.
Chapter Five
West threw a look over his shoulder as he strode out of the arena. The last thing he wanted was a dozen cameras on his tail, because he was heading to his hotel, where Malou was meeting him.
“It’s a Calhoun! It’s West!” a woman squealed.
He jerked his head around to see people running toward him. Phones held out to snap whatever dumb fucking look was on his face. Which at this moment could be disgust with the whole idea of hiding or the traces of the grin he’d worn while talking to Malou a few minutes ago.
Right now she’d be packing up her supplies, getting ready to follow him.
And he was being attacked from all sides by fans and film crews. So much for sneaking out.
“West, do you have any comments about your win today?” A microphone was shoved under his nose, and he huffed with irritation.
“Not much to say. Got the win.” He tried to push by the group, but several people thrust pens in his direction. He grabbed them and began scribbling his signature. His third grade teacher had always ridden him about his poor handwriting. If she saw it now, after he’d signed thousands of autographs, she’d keel over. It was little more than a messy W and C.
“How do you think Wynonna’s feeling about her loss today?”
He opened his mouth to say, “Ask her yourself.” Then again, she’d caught him sneaking out. She was the only person who knew where he was heading and with whom. She’d probably tipped off Andrew and he’d sent the crews after West, which had swelled into a whole posse.
He put on his best Wynonna tone and bobbled his head. “Can’t win them all, except I will—from now on.”
Everyone laughed, and he was able to move a foot more toward the parking lot.
“Do you have any comment about your assault charges?”
He shoved the guy aside. But now that the can of worms had been opened, the stink started to waft out. People started asking him questions about why he’d beat up Jay Wallace and was he going to trial.
“No comment. I need to pass. Let me through.” He shouldered his way past the people crowded around him, only to be engulfed by another wave of bodies. It took him five more tries to break away before he finally left the mob behind.
By the time he reached his truck, he felt sweaty and irritated. He jumped behind the wheel and locked the doors. He wasn’t taking any chances someone would jump in with him. All he needed was rumors flying that he’d been with a woman when he was supposed to be meeting Malou.
Her earthy scents still clung to him. Whoooeee, that stolen kiss had turned him inside out. Though it wasn’t nearly enough. He needed her wrapped around him like frosting on a cake.
The hotel he was staying at was out of the way of the other rodeo people. The rest of his family was scattered throughout the city of San Antonio. Buck figured it was best to split up and keep the fans at bay.
When he started to back out, people scattered. He slammed on the brakes. “Idiots. Teach you to approach the truck.”
He switched gears and stomped on the gas. More people peeled out of his way. Surely a camera or two had gotten that on film too, and it would be the next scandal. We ask West about his criminal background, and he burns rubber.
It took him a few minutes to shake off his anger, but once he reached the hotel, the only thought in his head was for Malou.
He was hoping for a private room in the restaurant to talk to her, get to know her.
Who was he kidding? He wanted to rush her into his room and bolt the door. He wanted to feel her naked in his arms and be surrounded by her scent and curves.
He put on his sunglasses and got out of the truck. He kept his head down, his hat covering part of his face. So far so good. He’d made it to the double door without anybody screaming his name.
As he entered the hotel, he kept on high alert for any camera flashes or people mobbing him for his autograph. But no one seemed to be around.
Feeling a measure of confidence that he could pull this off, he continued past the desk clerk. The cute girl stared at him for a long heartbeat. He could almost feel her probing behind his dark sunglasses to try to see his eyes.
He knew the second she recognized him. Excitement stole over her features, and she cried, “You’re West Calhoun.”
“Fuck.” He whirled and sped away, moving around potted plants, but people popped up from the seating groups he passed.
“It’s Calhoun. From Rope ‘n Ride.”
“It’s that reality star. Must be here for the rodeo.”
“Dammit,” he bit off, feinting to the left around a rolling luggage rack stacked to the top. Malou would be here any minute. How was he going to keep her face from being splashed everywhere as his newest conquest?
“West, we’ve been looking everywhere for you.” One of the crewmembers centered West in the camera lens.
West pasted his palm over the equipment and shoved it away.
“Hey, you’re not supposed to interfere with filming,” the guy protested.
“Fuck off.” West had no doubt someone had gotten that on video. Cell phones were all around him.
He was totally fucked. He couldn’t get out of the building unseen, and once they tracked him to the parking lot, they’d find him meeting with Malou, and it would be all over.
She’d never give him another chance. He was lucky he’d gotten this one.
In desperation, he pushed outside and ducked behind the first bush he saw. Luckily, it was fat enough to hide him. The camera guy ran after him.
West crunched into a smaller ball to stay hidden. After a minute, the crewmember went back inside. A few more people passed, but nobody noticed if a reality TV star was hiding in the bushes. He might have laughed if the whole situation hadn’t gotten so out of hand.
He peeked between the foliage again and saw a figure moving toward him. A small woman with too much hair and tits he wanted to kiss and suck all night.
As she reached him, he popped up.
Malou screamed. “Holy shit, West.” She pressed a hand over her heart.
He grabbed her by the elbow and hurried her back to his truck.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s not safe in there. Fucking cameras everywhere. C’mon.”
He bundled her into his truck and drove at a normal pace out of the parking lot, figuring to speed out would draw more attention. Besides, last time he’d driven wildly, she’d gotten carsick.
She kept throwing him glances.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, taking a right turn that would lead him back to the arena. He had an idea.
“I’m wondering how I got mixed up with a guy who can’t talk to me without the Paparazzi.”
He grunted. “Me too. These past few years have been a whirlwind. I hardly know what season we’re filming.”
“I can’t imagine being in the public eye all the time. Of course, you flourish.”
He sent her a sideways look. “Is that supposed to mean I’m perfect for it?”
“It seems that way, yes.”
He stared at her hard. God, she was gorgeous, all high cheekbones tinged with a dusky color that made her warm brown skin glow. “Hopi, you say?”
She blinked at him, and it took her a second to roll with his change of topic. “That’s right. Why?”
“It explains your features. High cheekbones and the eyes.”
Her blush deepened, and it stirred something low in his groin. As if a beast lay there, dormant until now. He had to get her alone.
She looked away. “Where are we going?”
He arched a brow. “You worried?”
“A bit, yes.”
“Worried about your own feelings maybe.”
She didn’t reply.
A few minutes later, he pulled into the arena parking lot. Many of the cars had pulled out, leaving only a stray vehicle or two and some horse trailers.
One of the travel trailers belonged to his family.
He pulled up beside it,
and Malou looked out the window. “This is our destination?”
“At least we’ll be alone. It’s cozier than it looks. Lane lives in it sometimes when he’s on the road. Doesn’t trust hotels. He’s scared of bedbugs. He’s not here now, though.” He grinned, and Malou did too, her eyes sparkling.
He jumped out and came around to the passenger’s side. When he opened the door, she didn’t move to unfasten her seatbelt.
“What’s the matter?”
She compressed her lips, which only made him want to kiss her that much more. “I’m not sure I should be alone with you in that small trailer.”
His heart fell. “You don’t trust me?”
She flushed. “I trust you. It’s just that… what I wanted to say, I can say right here.”
Fuck, she was trying to dump him before they were even a couple. Like hell.
He reached across her and unbuckled her seatbelt. Then he caught her hands and pulled her out. In a few steps, they’d reached the trailer. From the outside, nobody could tell it belonged to a Calhoun. He reached into his pocket and came out with a ring of keys.
Hiding in plain sight.
She watched him unlock the deadbolt and push open the door.
She gasped.
He threw her a grin. “Nothing like you thought, is it?” He led her in, switched on a battery-powered lamp and closed the door.
The inside was decked out like a bachelor’s pad with carpet and furniture, a small cupboard that held a bit of coffee. High on two walls were small windows. On a warm night, you could leave them open and let the breezes flow through.
There was a bed.
And lots of rope coiled in a bucket.
His gaze swung to Malou. She opened her mouth to speak, but he grabbed her and kissed her. A long, sweet tangling of tongues that shot need straight to his cock. He hardened in a blink.
She jerked free and folded her arms protectively over her chest. “I didn’t come with you to kiss you.”
He brushed her hair off her shoulder and ran his hands down her spine all the way to her curvy little ass. “But we’re so good at it.”
“Please… I can’t think with you touching me.”
He released her and stepped back a pace.
