by Myla Jackson
He licked her, this time pausing to suck her nubbin between his teeth. He bit down gently.
Her back arched, pushing her bottom up off the pillow. “Oh, yes.”
“Does that hurt?” he asked.
“Yes. Oh, yes!” she cried, her bound hands curling into his hair and bringing him back to her. “More, please.”
Jackson obliged, biting down again then licking to ease the pain. Her body settled into a steady rocking motion, matching his tongue’s thrusts against her clit. He swept low and surged into her channel, swirling in the musky, salty juices, his cock twitching, ready to fill her.
He pushed her thighs open wide, then climbed up her body and drove into her until his balls slapped her ass.
Kiki’s legs wrapped around his waist, clinging to him, drawing him ever closer, her muscles tightening and loosening with every stroke.
Tension intensified in his groin, tingling sensations shooting out to every nerve as he catapulted over the edge into a fiery abyss. His thrusts continued until he could move no more. With one hand, he pulled the pillow from beneath Kiki’s hips and wrapped the other arm around her, rolling to the side, maintaining their intimate connection.
Exhausted and fulfilled, Jackson drifted to sleep, his hand cupping one of her breasts, feeling more replete than he’d felt in a very long time. As his thoughts faded into darkness, he reminded himself to find out who Kiki really was. He had to see her again.
As soon as his eyes closed, it seemed light pushed past the slits of Jackson’s eyelids, forcing its way into his vision. Surely it wasn’t morning already. He didn’t want to get up, not when he had a soft, willing woman in the bed beside—
Jackson sat up straight and peered at the empty pillow which still sported a slight indentation from Kiki’s head. He tossed the sheets aside and leaped to his feet, racing into the master bath.
Empty.
Back in the bedroom, he pulled on his jeans, buttoning them while his gaze panned the master bedroom. Surely she hadn’t gone without saying anything? Maybe she’d left a note.
Anger spurred his actions as he flung the pillows aside and dropped to his knees to see if perhaps the note had slid to the floor. No woman could be that good in bed and not mean it, not have any kind of emotional connection. She couldn’t have disappeared without saying something, anything.
Beneath a tumble of blankets and the comforter he found a single bright red boot. So that was the true color of the dark boots Kiki had worn the night before.
Jackson jumped to his feet, his heart hammering, his fingers running across the red leather and bright metal studs, lovingly polished and cared for.
In the light of day, un-befuddled by black lights, strobes and a sexy dancer, the significance of the red boot hit him square between the eyes.
He knew that boot. Hell, he knew the only woman who wore kickass red boots anywhere in the tri-county region.
A grin spread across his face, all anger seeping away as he realized just who the illusive stripper was. Kiki might be her name while wearing a mask, but Jackson knew, beneath the wig, boots and chaps, she was the owner of the Ugly Stick Saloon, Audrey Anderson.
He dragged on his own boots and ran out of the room, the door slamming wide open as he hurried through the house.
“Going somewhere?” Mark stepped in front of him before he could reach the door.
A growl rose up Jackson’s throat, and he fought to keep from shoving his brother out of the way. “I’m going to town.”
“We have a truck coming today to haul the cattle to auction. Did your birthday present make you forget?” Mark’s brows rose as his arms crossed over his chest. “By the way, Luke and I decided we’d hire Kiki again. She’s quite the stripper. Possibly a little more than one man can handle.”
Jackson’s jaw tightened. “She’s not for sale.”
Luke stepped up beside Mark. “Didn’t say she was. Just that she’s for hire as a stripper. She must have liked you enough to go further than we contracted.”
“Shut up.” Jackson shoved Mark aside and pushed through the front screen door.
“We’ll need help getting the cattle culled and herded into the pen. You gonna be here?” Mark called out as he and Luke followed Jackson outside.
Jackson stopped halfway down the front porch steps, torn between what he had to do and what he wanted to do. He wanted to do Kiki—or her alter ego—again…now. But with the cattle truck en route and not a minute to spare to get the steers separated from the rest of the herd, he’d need to be there alongside his brothers.
Damn.
“I’ll be there.”
Luke glanced at the sky. “Sun’s gonna be brutal today.” He grinned. “You might want to wear a shirt.” Then he sauntered past Jackson and headed for the barn.
Mark followed Luke, both chuckling as if sharing a joke.
The joke was on Jackson. Why should he be all wound up about a woman? A lying woman, who’d made love to him in disguise rather than be on the up-and-up as herself. What was she afraid of?
Jackson sighed. The answers to his questions would have to wait until they loaded the cattle going to auction. He tromped back up the stairs and into the house for that shirt he’d need, cursing life as a cattle rancher for the first time since he’d taken over. Solving the mystery of Kiki would have to wait.
Damn.
For the next ten hours, he and his brothers wrangled cattle, herding, cutting and loading them into the trailers that would carry them to auction. When the last steer trundled up the ramp, Jackson, Mark and Luke dragged their dusty, dirty and tired bodies back to the house for a shower and a cold dinner.
The clock struck ten by the time Jackson climbed out of the shower. Longer summer days only meant more time to work, meaning less time to play. And even less time to follow a woman to the Ugly Stick Saloon.
His body ached—he’d been kicked enough times he’d have bruises to show for weeks—but his livelihood was loaded onto a truck, and soon he’d have enough money to pay the mortgage for the next few months.
He sighed, happy to have one major accomplishment under his belt. But he sure as hell didn’t have the energy to pursue the owner of the red boot. Not tonight.
Not until the next night did he get over to the Ugly Stick Saloon to follow up on a full-blown hunch and a red boot. The additional time had given him perspective and time to hatch a plan.
The door to the storeroom banged open. “Where do you want this whisky?”
Audrey teetered on the stepladder and almost fell. “Charli! Don’t scare me like that!”
Charli set the box of whisky on a shelf and held out her hand. “Get down before you kill yourself.”
“I’m fine. I’m almost done cleaning the fifteen-year-old, sticky, spilled wine off this shelf.”
“Get down. I’ll finish.” Charli grabbed Audrey’s hand and tugged gently. “You’re making me nervous. Hell, you’re making all of us nervous.”
“What do you mean?” Audrey’s cheeks burned as she allowed Charli to pull her down the stepladder to the floor of the storeroom. The storeroom where she and Jackson had first done it. Oh, dear Lord, she hadn’t been able to get the man out of her mind for even a minute.
“You’re as twitchy as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs,” Charli exclaimed.
Twitchy described the way Audrey felt perfectly. Every nerve and blood vessel pounded, keeping her hopping, her body unable to slow down. It was as though she were high on speed with no way to come down.
No, she knew one way, and it wasn’t by cleaning fifteen-year-old wine off a storeroom shelf. A tumble in a certain cowboy’s bed would set her right. She just wasn’t ready to admit she needed a man as much as she needed Jackson Gray Wolf.
“What’s bothering you?” Charli asked.
The door to the storeroom opened again, the music from the dancehall spilling through, providing enough noise Audrey wasn’t required to answer immediately.
Cory leaned in the doorwa
y. He wore his costume for Ladies’ Night Out. Leather vest and chaps over a black thong completed the ensemble. With his white-blond hair and broad shoulders, he’d bring in a ton of money as the women frothed and drank their way into a frenzy. “The show’s about to start. Did you want to introduce the dancers?”
For a long moment, Audrey stared at the chaps, her heart slipping through several beats before it resumed a steady thundering pace. Her pussy creamed as she envisioned what she’d done with Jackson in a pair of chaps just like those. “No, no. Let Kendall introduce the dancers. She knows all of you by name.”
Cory glanced from Audrey to Charli and back again.
Audrey had always insisted on introducing the dancers on Ladies’ Night Out. So? She could step outside the box just once. “Why are you two staring at me? Get to work!” she snapped.
Charli nodded at Cory. “Get Kendall to do it.”
As soon as the door shut, Charli grabbed Audrey’s arms and pushed her against the nearest shelf. “What’s wrong? Why are you acting so weird?”
Audrey struggled between yelling at her assistant and bursting into tears. Last night, she’d come to work, fully expecting Jackson Gray Wolf to blow through the doors, demanding to see Kiki.
He hadn’t.
She ducked her head and tried to wiggle her way out of Charli’s grip. “Nothing’s wrong. Just let me do my job.”
“Not until you tell me what happened the other night at the Gray Wolf party.” Charli stared hard into her eyes. “You danced for them, didn’t you?”
“I told you, Audrey Anderson doesn’t dance for anyone anymore.” She flung back her shoulders, tipping her head high.
“Okay, so Audrey Anderson doesn’t dance for anyone anymore.” Charli’s mouth twisted into a wry grin. “You didn’t really answer my question.”
“Leave it, Charli.”
“No.” Charli didn’t budge, her lips set in a firm line.
“Leave it, or I’ll fire you.”
Charli shook her head. “You can’t fire me. I’m the only one you trust to leave the bar to when you want to take a day off.”
“I can get Kendall to take over.”
“She’s too busy with her man to pay close-enough attention to the way things run here.”
“She’d do fine.” Audrey pushed away from Charli and grabbed a bottle of wine, heading for the stepladder.
Charli stepped in her way. “You’re avoiding the issue. What happened? Did you and Jackson hook up?”
“Damn it, Charli, it’s none of your business. But if you must know, Jackson and Audrey Anderson did not hook up.”
A frown creased Charli’s brow. “Wow, you’re freakin’ me out. That’s the second time tonight you’ve talked about yourself in the third person. You are usually with it and completely together. I’ve never seen you so…so…unhinged.”
“I’m not unhinged.” She shook the bottle of wine at Charli. “I’m Audrey, the same boss you’ve had for two years. Nothing’s changed, I tell you. Nothing!” The bottle slipped from her grasp and crashed to the floor, splattering dark red wine over Charli’s jean-clad legs and Audrey’s white boots.
Charli stared down at the mess, her gaze focusing not on the wine but on the boots.
Audrey groaned inwardly, bracing herself.
“You’re wearing white boots.” Charli’s head came up and she stared at Audrey. “What happened to your red boots?”
With a shrug, Audrey squatted, fishing through the sticky wine for the broken shards of glass. “I didn’t feel like wearing them. Now will you help me clean up this mess or get out of my way so that I can do it by myself?”
Charli dropped to her haunches in front of Audrey and grabbed her wrist, plucking the glass from her hands one piece at a time. “Honey, you know you can tell me anything.”
Tears welled in Audrey’s eyes and she blinked rapidly, wishing them away. “There’s nothing to tell,” she said, her voice choking on the words. And she wasn’t lying. As far as Audrey was concerned, there was nothing to tell. Now Kiki, on the other hand, had a huge story to tell. But Kiki wasn’t coming out to play ever again.
A sob rose in Audrey’s throat, and she looked down before Charli could see the tears in her eyes.
Charli sighed, then spoke quietly. “Maybe you should take the night off or something. The place runs itself on Ladies’ Night Out. Why don’t you go take a drive down to the lake or go home and soak in a bubble bath.”
Audrey opened her mouth to protest and closed it before uttering a word. Charli was right. She was no good to anyone the way she was tonight. A soak in the tub would do her body good. Maybe then she could shake Jackson Gray Wolf out of her thoughts.
Yeah, right.
She handed over the loose shards of glass and left the storeroom. She couldn’t get out of the bar fast enough, avoiding talking to anyone who dared to get in her way.
Her cell phone rang in her hip pocket, and she pulled it out, answering before she thought better.
“Audrey, it’s Luke Gray Wolf. Any chance of getting Kiki back here tonight?”
Audrey’s feet ground to a halt. “No, that’s impossible. She’s not for hire.”
“Well, damn. She made quite an impression the other night, not only on me and Mark but on Jackson as well. If we don’t do something soon, he’s liable to blow a gasket on us.”
“Sorry, boys. She’s not interested.” Her voice faltered.
“You sure? We’ll pay her double what we paid before. We really need her in a bad way.”
Audrey’s heart skipped several beats, her determination wavering. What Luke and Mark had done to her two nights ago to get her lathered up for Jackson was very near to orgasmic.
“If you think she’ll reconsider, would you give her our number?” Luke persisted.
“I’ll think about it.” Audrey pressed the off button.
As she left the building, Audrey swerved into the prop room and grabbed a spare set of stripper’s chaps. Rolling the leather into a tight wad, she stuffed it into the oversized purse she carried her files and laptop in. Why she did it, she couldn’t say. Maybe Kiki had a mind of her own.
A shiver of excitement slipped over her skin, speeding her footsteps until she was running for her truck. When she shifted into drive, she didn’t head to Temptation and home, she turned in the opposite direction, making a beeline for the Gray Wolf Ranch and three hot cowboys. She hoped like hell that the natives were restless tonight, because she sure as hell was.
Chapter Six
Jackson pulled into the parking lot of the Ugly Stick Saloon, dismayed at the number of cars, trucks and SUVs lined up on the gravel and spilling into the grass. What the hell was going on tonight? A line of women stood at the door waiting to get in. The marquis read Ladies’ Night Out.
With a groan, Jackson drove around the back of the saloon and double-parked. Hopefully he’d get in and back out without any trouble.
A large woman dressed in jeans and cowboy boots, her hair cut short, almost butch, fingers pinching the butt of a burned-out cigarette, stood at the rear entrance.
“Unless you’re the talent, you ain’t gettin’ in.” She flicked the butt into the gravel at his feet and crossed ham-hock arms over her chest.
“Hi, Greta Sue, I need to see Audrey.” Jackson stepped to the side, intent on going around the woman.
She cut him off, moving her bulk with surprising speed. “I said, if you ain’t the talent, you ain’t gettin’ in.” She placed a fat hand on his chest and pushed him.
Other than hitting the woman, Jackson had no recourse but to back down. “Can you at least go get Audrey and tell her Jackson is here and would like to talk to her?”
The woman shook her head. “No can do.”
“Why?”
The woman’s face cracked into a grin. “She ain’t here.”
Jackson sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
“You didn’t ask if the
boss was here.”
“But—” Jackson stared into the woman’s squinty eyes and shrugged. “Guess you got a point.” He turned to leave.
“You coulda got in by saying you were the talent, you know.”
Jackson glanced over his shoulder at Greta Sue, whose grin had spread across her face, making her less intimidating and more jovial.
Her gaze raked him from head to toe. “Ya got the build for it. Wouldn’t mind seein’ ya in a G-string myself.”
Jackson tipped his cowboy hat. “Mighty kind of you. But I think I’ll keep my pants on.” He winked and walked away.
“Cryin’ shame,” she muttered behind him.
Jackson climbed into his pickup and pulled away from the Ugly Stick. As he drove toward home, his left foot tapped the floorboard. Maybe he should visit Audrey at her home.
Nah. She might not even be there. Why drive all the way over to Temptation just to find an empty house? That brand of reasoning led to another thought. What if Audrey was out on a date, or worse, out dancing for another man?
His hands tightening on the steering wheel, Jackson gritted his teeth. The woman had pushed him away, stating their storeroom fuck was a mistake. If that was true, then why the hell did she show up as Kiki at his house and spend the night mattress-wrangling with him?
She wasn’t making sense. Well not to a man anyway. Possibly she was doin’ some of that female thinkin’. Either way, he had a boot to prove Audrey and Kiki were one and the same. What he didn’t know was why Audrey felt she had to disguise herself as Kiki to feel comfortable making love to him again. Or maybe it was the rough-riding, kinky sex she didn’t like to admit to lovin’.
Jackson had a plan on how to bring Audrey around to revealing herself, but he needed to find Audrey to set the plan in motion. He pounded the steering wheel with his palm, frustrated at having to wait.
As he pulled into the yard at the ranch, he stared at the darkened living room windows. Had the boys gone to bed early for once? It wasn’t poker night, the Ugly Stick was off limits to guys and they hadn’t said anything about going out that evening.
