by Myla Jackson
“Oh, thank God.” She shoved the wallet back into his pocket and tore the package open with her teeth.
Jackson leaned her back against the door as she sheathed him, rolling the ribbed condom down over his cock, its tight fit only making her more determined to get him inside her soon.
With the condom in place, her passion waning only slightly, Audrey settled her arms across Jackson’s shoulders and eased herself down over him, taking him fully into her channel. “Oh, baby, fuck me. Fuck me hard.”
He grinned. “Ah, the lady likes it rough.”
“You have no idea,” she whispered against his lips.
He pressed her against the cool paneling of the door and slammed into her, driving deep and hard. With each thrust, the door banged, the sound echoing through the storeroom. The light bulb dangling from the ceiling swayed, and the world could have stopped for all Audrey cared. She was getting what she wanted, and she didn’t have to change the batteries to get there.
The pounding on the door changed tempos from the rhythm Jackson set.
It wasn’t long before shouts penetrated the wood. “Audrey? Audrey, are you in there?” Charli’s voice sounded high-pitched and desperate on the other side.
Jackson froze in mid-thrust, his eyes widening.
“Fuck!” Audrey swore, her legs clasping Jackson to her, drawing him deep. “I swear I’m going to fire her.”
“Are you okay in there?” Charli banged on the door again. “Audrey, answer if you can. Otherwise we’re going to break down the door.”
Audrey leaned her forehead into Jackson’s chest. “Just when we were getting to the good part,” she whispered. Aloud, she called out, “I’m fine. Go away.”
“Not until I know you’re okay.”
“I’m okay.”
“Show me. For all I know someone could be holding a gun to your head.”
“I’d like to hold a gun to your head,” Audrey shouted.
“What? I can barely hear you.” Charli pounded again. “Open the door.”
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
Jackson lifted her off his cock and set her on the floor. “Maybe you’re right. It wasn’t meant to be.” He peeled the condom off his dick and tucked his long staff into his jeans before buttoning the fly.
“Yeah.” Audrey sighed, gathering her scattered clothing. “I better get back to work.”
“Look, Audrey—”
“Don’t.” She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Don’t say it was a mistake. I know it.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Well, save it.” She shoved her feet into her jeans and pulled her cowboy boots on.
“Audrey?” Charli’s muffled shout made Audrey’s blood pressure rocket.
“I’m coming, dammit.” She hooked her bra in place and slid her arms into her shirt, making quick work of the buttons. Charli’s interruption had probably saved Audrey from a big mistake. What the business needed should always come first. Her own personal wants and desires were secondary. The business needed her to remain respectable. Which meant no jacking around with a Kiowa hottie in the storeroom.
With a lopsided smile, she paused with her hand on the doorknob. “Thanks anyway.”
Jackson’s jaw tightened, his lips pressing into a straight line. “This isn’t over.”
“As far as I’m concerned it is.” When she opened the door, Charli stood there, her eyes wide and worried.
“Oh, thank God.” She hugged Audrey tight. “I thought you were being held hostage. The boys were going to break down the door to get you out.”
Behind her, Mark and Luke stood, grins spreading across their faces as soon as they spotted Jackson.
Mark tipped his cowboy hat. “Just here to help.” He nodded toward the bottom of Audrey’s shirt. “You missed a button.”
Luke jabbed him in the ribs. “Glad everything’s okay. We’ll just be…er…goin’.” He jerked Mark by the arm, dragging him away from the storeroom.
Charli’s eyes rounded and her face turned a brilliant shade of red. “Were you two…? Did I…?” She ducked her head and retreated. “I’ll be bartending.”
Audrey sighed. It was just as well Charli had interrupted before things got out of hand. She wasn’t certain she could have extricated herself from Jackson easily, and she knew nothing could come of a continued liaison with the cowboy. All she wanted was a quick fuck. Jackson didn’t strike her as a fuck-’em-and-leave-’em type. She had her bar, which was more work than even she’d envisioned and frankly, she wasn’t ready for commitment of any kind—wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready to trust another man with her heart or her body.
Chapter Two
“Absolutely no birthday party this year. Agreed?” Surly, and in no mood for civilized company, Jackson had his brothers lined up outside the barn, ready to rip into them.
Mark snorted. “What’s the matter, Jack? Feeling a little cranky this morning? Age getting to you?”
“Would be just fine if I didn’t have to babysit the two of you. And no changing the subject. I want a promise from the both of you. You’re not going to throw a big party for my thirtieth, are you?” His eyes narrowed. “I can’t hear you,” he said in his best drill-sergeant imitation.
Mark and Luke snapped to attention, popping their brother a mock salute. “Yes, sir! No big party, sir!”
For a long moment Jackson glared at them. They’d agreed far too quickly, but he wasn’t up to knocking sense into them. Not when his jeans rubbed against his cock, reminding him of what he hadn’t finished last night and the aching need it had kindled in his groin. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to hit someone. If he didn’t get away from his twin brothers, he’d start there. “The northernmost fence has a wire snapped. You two get it fixed and start work on replacing those boards on the cattle chute near the highway. The truck comes tomorrow to load the steers. We can’t wait until the last minute to shore up.”
“I’ll get the barbed wire.” Mark strode into the barn to retrieve the wire stacked in the storeroom.
“I’ve got the tools.” Luke patted a cloth bag of tools.
“Four-wheelers?” Mark returned, carrying a roll of wire.
Luke nodded. “You bet.” Then he turned to Jackson. “Don’t forget that cow with the infected udder.”
Jackson forced a smile he didn’t really feel. Despite his surliness, Jackson was proud of the boys. When his younger brothers got down to business, they didn’t waste time. “I’ll be out rounding up ol’ Betsy and her calf and bringing them in for the vet to take a look.”
“Sure you aren’t the one who needs help?” Luke asked.
Jackson shook his head. “It’ll take both of you to get that chute in shape in a single day. I can handle one cow.”
Mark cast a glance at Luke, his brows raised. “Better him than me. Betsy got the better of me once. Got the scar to prove it.” He patted his right rib cage.
Luke slapped Mark on the back. “Don’t care to repeat the humiliation?”
Mark snorted. “Nope.”
“Then let’s get going. We have a lot to do today.” Luke glanced at Jackson. “Mark and I will cook dinner tonight, so don’t be late for birthday cake.”
Jackson didn’t want to remember his birthday, and his brothers seemed bent on reminding him that he was another year older. He could go the rest of his life without birthday cake and be perfectly happy. “Don’t bother.” Thankful for any excuse to avoid a birthday dinner and the inevitable birthday cake, he delighted in announcing, “I gotta go to town and make a deposit at the bank, and afterward Charli asked me to stop by.”
Mark grinned. “Got a hot date?”
Jackson shook his head, an image of Audrey, not Charli, standing naked in the soft light of the storeroom, making his dick twitch. But it wasn’t Audrey he’d be paying a visit. “No date. Charli wanted me to bring a ladder and change a light bulb she can’t reach over the entryway.” He didn’t bother to explain th
at the entryway was over the back door of the Ugly Stick Saloon. Maybe he’d catch Audrey on break and pick up where they’d left off.
His brothers smirked and high-fived each other. Okay, so they had it half right. Jackson needed sex, but not with Charli.
“The old light-bulb excuse, is it?” Mark chuckled.
Jackson’s eyes narrowed as he feigned ignorance. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” Luke jammed an elbow into Mark’s gut. “Come on, we should be making hay while the sun shines.”
Jackson squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. “When are you two going to grow up?”
“Never,” Mark answered. “Especially if it means we’ll be as ornery and frustrated as you, big brother.”
“No kidding,” Luke added. “You’ve been so busy being more of a father to the two of us, you haven’t had time to live your own life. Face it, old man, we’re all grown up and you need a woman in your life.”
Mark snorted. “What he needs is to get laid.”
“What I need is the two of you to quit lollygaggin’ and get to work.” Jackson’s words came across harsh. What gave his brothers the right to tell him what he needed? He’d been the head of the household long enough to know his own mind. But damned if Luke’s words didn’t strike a little too close to home.
“Point made. He’s not getting any and it shows.” Luke leaped out of the way of Jackson’s fist. “Getting slower too.”
“Age must be catching up to him,” Mark agreed.
He and Luke ran for the four-wheelers, laughing.
Luke glanced back, all humor wiped from his face. “Think about it.” Then he gunned the engine and shot off for the north fence.
Unfortunately, that left Jackson feeling older than his thirty years and in no mood to put up with a stubborn cow with udder problems. Three hours later, he was hot, sweaty and dusty and had Betsy penned in a stall, her calf bawling in the corral outside the barn. Each time the calf wailed, the cow sent an answering moo until Jackson thought his head would split from the noise.
Doc Richards arrived in his pickup, unloaded his doctoring bag and set to work treating the cow’s udder with disinfectants and antibiotic ointment. After administering a shot of antibiotics, the vet gathered his things and stuck out his hand to Jackson. “By the way, happy birthday.”
Jackson grimaced. “How’d you find out?”
“Your brothers made a point of telling anyone who’d listen last night at the Ugly Stick.”
“Great. They had better not be throwing a party this year. For one, I won’t be there.”
Doc grinned. “If they are, I didn’t get an invite.”
“Good.” Jackson thought better of his answer. “Not that I wouldn’t want you there. I just don’t want a party. Too much hoopla over nothin’.”
“A man only turns thirty once.”
“And any other birthday is different?”
The veterinarian shrugged. “Guess not, but I’d give my right arm to be thirty again.”
“It’s just another day, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Leigh Ann and I celebrated our second anniversary and had our first child the year I turned thirty.” The veterinarian stared off into the distance. “Yeah, that was a good year.” His gaze shifted to Jackson. “Well, happy birthday, anyway. Each year is what you make of it, I always say.” He clapped Jackson on the back and climbed into his truck.
Jackson usually enjoyed seeing Doc Richards, but after the man left, he found himself in an even deeper funk than before he’d come. As he moved ol’ Betsy back out in the pasture to be with her calf, the ungrateful beast snagged him with her horn, ripping his favorite denim shirt. The day hadn’t started in the right direction and only seemed to be going downhill from there.
The twins hadn’t made it back from working on the cattle chute by late afternoon, giving Jackson all the time he needed to take care of the chores around the barn, feed the horses, cows and chickens and check on the garden. By the time he was finished, showered and changed into clean jeans, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the landscape into a dusky shadow. He might get off the ranch before the boys could razz him more about turning thirty.
“Damned birthdays. Who needs ’em anyway?” he muttered as he climbed into his pickup and slammed the door. He might stay out all night just to avoid Mark and Luke and their well-intentioned annoyance.
Jackson swung by the barn, loaded the ladder in the bed of the truck and turned to the north. Dust rose against the fading light in the distance, indicating his brothers’ return from the range. The sooner Jackson left, the better. He hopped up into the truck, shifted into drive and spit up gravel from his tires as he tore out of the barnyard.
After stopping to make a night deposit at the bank in Hole in the Wall, Jackson headed out the other end of town, his headlights the only ones shining on the road as the hour grew late.
The closer he got to the bar, the more he got to thinkin’. What if Charli’s request was some elaborate setup to get him to come to a surprise party?
His foot hit the brake and the truck skidded to a stop in the middle of the highway.
No way. He wasn’t falling for that. Thirty was too round a figure for his brothers to let it slide. This had to be a setup.
His foot eased off the brake. Then again, if it wasn’t a ploy to get him to the saloon, and he didn’t show up, Charli and Audrey would have to exit work in the middle of the night in the dark.
Jackson eased his foot onto the accelerator. He’d sneak into the back parking lot, change the bulb and be gone before anyone saw him. And before he saw anyone else—including Audrey.
His groin tightened, the storeroom calling to him, Audrey’s delectable body more than he could resist. Okay, so maybe he’d see if she wanted to ditch the bar and go out for a cup of coffee with him. Maybe they could take their coffee out by the lake and…
Before he knew it, Jackson was speeding toward the Ugly Stick Saloon located on the county line between Hole in the Wall and Temptation, Texas. He didn’t realize he’d exceeded the speed limit until he passed one of the local Texas State Troopers with a radar gun pointed in his direction.
Immediately, his foot left the accelerator and he brought the truck and his rampant lust in check, arriving at the Ugly Stick in a more sedate mood and at a slower pace.
He ducked low, hoping no one would recognize him. Fat chance. The place was already swinging, country music shaking the corrugated tin walls of the building. In places as small as Hole in the Wall and Temptation, everyone knew everyone and the horse they rode in on—or what car or truck they drove. Jackson did his best to round the back of the saloon before anyone noticed his arrival.
Feeling confident he’d gone unnoticed, Jackson removed the ladder from the back of his truck and set it up outside the back door. In less than two minutes he’d changed the light bulb and reloaded the ladder, ready to go home.
At this point he had choices.
He could leave, no one the wiser of his visit, possibly avoiding a surprise party and the embarrassment of everyone at the Ugly Stick congratulating him on reaching the ripe old age of thirty with nothing to show for it. Yeah, he had the same ranch. Still had the same work. No wife, no kids to brag about, and the only sex he’d had in months was stolen in the back of the storeroom of this saloon the night before. And that hadn’t really counted because they’d been interrupted before either one of them had a chance to come.
Pathetic.
He opened the truck and had his foot on the running board when he thought again of that storeroom, Audrey and his other choice.
Jackson could stay. Maybe the party wasn’t all that big. Audrey would be there to keep the drunks from tearing her building down. They might sneak back into that storeroom, lock the door and finish what they’d started the night before.
His foot dropped to the ground and he sighed. He wanted to see Audrey, but what was the chance they’d get it on again? She’d ca
lled their tryst in the storeroom a mistake.
The only mistake Jackson figured was unlocking the door.
Situating his jeans to fit more comfortably around his ever-swelling cock, Jackson closed the truck door, locked it and headed into the Ugly Stick, ready to test the waters with the owner, determined to convince the woman that what they’d done was nowhere near a mistake and only the beginning.
“What do you mean CJ’s sick? Hell, I didn’t even know we had a request for tonight. Who the hell am I gonna find at this short notice?” Audrey shook the payment receipt in the air.
Charli flipped through the black book of phone numbers Audrey kept by the desk in the office of the Ugly Stick Saloon. “I don’t know. I’ve called all the other girls and they’re either out of town or on other gigs.”
“What about Kendall? She’s old enough now.”
“Out of town.”
Audrey’s eyes narrowed. “What about you?”
Charli held up her hands. “No way. I’m a singer. I can’t dance to save my life.”
“Seriously, Charli, how much dancing do you have to do? You just shake your boobs and ass and make the birthday boy happy.”
“I told you when I started here I wasn’t going to dance. And I wasn’t supposed to work tonight, as it is, but with the rodeo in town…”
Audrey ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back away from her face. “Who am I going to get to do this? Hell, who’s it for?” She squinted at the receipt, turning it sideways. “Is this your writing?”
“Yes.” Charli grabbed the document from her. “It’s for the Gray Wolf twins.”
Heat pooled between Audrey’s thighs. “When did you take this order?”
“Last night. I had CJ all lined up and then she called me this afternoon claiming she’s sick.”
“Can’t she dance sick?”
Charli frowned at Audrey. “Not when it’s food poisoning or stomach flu.” She shook her head. “Besides, you don’t want your paying customers to catch whatever she’s got. The Gray Wolf twins promised it would be a small number at the party, three people tops.”
