High-Stakes Cowboy (WEST Protection)

Home > Romance > High-Stakes Cowboy (WEST Protection) > Page 2
High-Stakes Cowboy (WEST Protection) Page 2

by Em Petrova


  She molded her fingers around the bulge in his jeans, shaping the denim to the outline of his cock. When she reached the flared head, she ran the point of her little pink tongue over her plump lip. “I think you’re big. And I need you inside me.”

  “Now we’re talkin’ about a party, sweet thing.” He braced himself on one arm planted beside her on the mattress and reached into his back pocket for his wallet with the other. Thankfully, locating a condom was a brainless activity, because Maya Ray was quickly stealing what brain cells he had left to think with tonight. Some of them the tequila had stolen—the rest were in his cock.

  He rolled to the side of the bed and wavered a bit on his feet. Somehow he managed to shuck off his boots, and then Maya Ray helped him remove his jeans and boxers and get the condom over his rigid length.

  When she looked up into his eyes, a weird little tug in the left corner of his chest distracted him. But not for long, because she grabbed his hands and planted them over her breasts again.

  He started at the top, kissing her with deep passes while plucking at her small hard nipples. She encircled his cock with her hot hand, and he went dead still. Then he rocked his hips once.

  Pulling his length through her hand.

  With a groan, he settled over her, nudging between her golden-tanned legs and angling straight for the prize. His mushroomed head nestled in her folds. He captured her lips again and tunneled inside with one swift jerk of his hips.

  She cried out and locked her ankles around his back. He slipped all the way in. His eyes slammed shut on the sensation of her scorching heat.

  Damn, he really was with another woman who wasn’t Shana. They might have only been together a year, but he believed her to be the one he’d put a ring on. Then she’d gone off with that douchebag Jake.

  As the vanilla-citrus scent of his new lover rattled his senses, he snapped to the present. He withdrew slowly, watching her face ripple in pleasure. She was more than striking. The prettiest woman at the party. Hell, maybe in all of Stone Pass.

  With a throaty groan, he sank inside her again. Her pussy clutched at him, the walls tight. His need doubled. The sensation tripled. He ran his tongue around her delicate jaw to her earlobe. He’d noticed those too, not from across the room but once he bent his head to whisper to her.

  “Oh God, Noah. Yesss…” The rush of Maya Ray’s words sent his hips churning, his cock burrowing deeper. Her inner muscles clamped down and squeezed. The cum boiled up from his balls and the first spurt escaped him.

  A harsh growl mingled with her sweet coo, and they thundered toward a finish he hoped to hell he remembered come morning.

  After they rolled apart, and he got up to discard the condom, one thought locked into his brain—this evening couldn’t be further from his norm.

  He hadn’t planned to go to the party and hook up. He hadn’t looked at the beautiful woman in red with the long, brown hair caressing the cutout in her shirt and formulated a plan, a future or any goal. Tequila really had robbed him of his senses tonight, and he didn’t know if he should be grateful or annoyed with himself.

  Chapter Two

  Sunlight stabbed through Maya Ray’s eyelids and shattered shards of glass into her brain. Dear God, who was making that banging sound?

  She pushed into a sitting position and immediately dropped back to the bed, softly. The pillow cradled her aching skull, and for long minutes she tried to piece together why her head hurt so damn much.

  She opened her eyes and realized the drumming was her own blood rushing through her veins.

  Tequila, she inwardly groaned.

  She opened her eyes and spotted the bottle laying on its side in front of the guest room door, and everything flooded back.

  The rodeo kickoff dance. Jake parading his new girl around. Maya Ray dolling herself up to prove that she was over him. She turned her gaze to her own feet. She still wore her boots but the rest of her didn’t have a stitch on it.

  Neither did the man next to her.

  Okay, now everything flooded back. The big mistake. Was she his mistake or he hers? She couldn’t even recall his name. Then she looked at his wide, full mouth and recalled the deep-set dimple in his cheek, a hallmark of the Wyntons of Stone Pass, Montana.

  Oh God. They’d slept together. Had they taken precautions? She couldn’t remember much but the mind-searing pleasure of a couple orgasms.

  She glared at the tequila bottle. Never again, she told it.

  Now she had another man in Stone Pass to avoid too. Slowly, conscious of the jackhammer on autopilot in her head, she slipped out of bed. Her boots hit the floor. At least she wouldn’t need to go searching for them—her thong was another thing.

  She clutched at her head as she bent to retrieve her underwear from the carpet and when she straightened, she froze as the big man in bed rolled over.

  “Shana…come back to bed.”

  Ice flooded her veins, replacing all the tequila. Shana? Jake’s new girlfriend Shana? How many Shanas could there be in this small town?

  She stared at Noah. His thick, dark hair lay across his forehead, and his squared jaw boasted more than a spattering of black beard growth. Her insides flipped, but she ignored her body’s reactions to the big—gorgeous—man in the throes of morning slumber.

  And morning wood.

  She reached out and shook him by the muscled shoulder. “Wake up!” She didn’t bother being quiet, and they both suffered for it. She winced, and he threw a pillow over his face.

  “Stop,” he groaned.

  How to proceed? She needed more information about the name he just spoke. She shook him a second time. This time he tossed the pillow off his face and cracked a bloodshot green eye at her.

  His face blanked even more when he realized she was not Shana.

  “How do you know Shana?” she blasted out the question.

  He blinked, clearly still tipsy and sleep drunk on top of it.

  She reached out to shake him again, but he caught her hand in his tight grip, stopping her short of touching him.

  “She’s my ex,” he grumbled. He sat up, heedless of the fact he was completely naked and his man parts waved between his splayed legs.

  Maya Ray carefully avoided looking at the dark, thick love trail leading to the trim nest of hair that cradled his cock—the same cock she knew had been balls-deep inside her the night before.

  She processed his statement, somewhat belatedly. “She’s your ex,” she said in a flat tone.

  He tried to nod but discontinued that movement right away. “Yeah. She left me for some dickhead.”

  “That dickhead’s name is?”

  “Jake,” they said together.

  They stared at each other. Was it possible? How could it be?

  She dropped to the mattress and cradled her head in her hands. Surely there was a logical explanation for this. She could not have slept with the ex of the woman who was with her ex. Could she?

  Noah shifted to sit next to her, head in his hands too. “How do you know Jake?” he asked after a long moment.

  She raised her head and looked at him. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.”

  Noah’s eyes cleared, and he was utterly sober in a blink. He shot to his feet as though he hadn’t imbibed most of the bottle of tequila the night before. He scooped his jeans with his boxers still scrunched inside them off the floor and yanked them on in one manly move.

  Maya Ray was still recovering from this sight when he squared up in front of her. “You’re telling me…” He shook his head. “No.”

  She nodded. “I think so.”

  “No way. That shit only happens in movies.”

  “Well…tell that to the producers of our lives, because it seems as if our exes left us for each other. And last night we hooked up.” She shot a look at his abs that appeared to be cut from granite and slowly eased his gaze up to his face.

  In seconds, her brain engaged fully—okay, as fully as it could while staring at a hot man who she’d just s
pent the night with. A plan unfolded across the landscape of her mind.

  She stood and paced across the room, which she now remembered was the guest room of Jake’s house. Right now, for all she knew, her ex was down the hall with Noah’s ex, tucked into bed too.

  She stifled a groan.

  But this was perfect. If Noah got on board with her idea, that was.

  She pivoted to look at him. He pushed his arms into the sleeves of his shirt and she paused to watch him work the first button before her mouth engaged again.

  “I have an idea.”

  He cocked an eye at her. “Forget this ever happened?”

  “The opposite.”

  He stopped buttoning his shirt.

  “We were both jilted. We’re both angry. I don’t know about you, but last night I came to the party just to prove to Jake that I’m fine and I’ve never been happier.”

  “I came for the same reason,” he grumbled.

  “So what if we get back at them…by being together? It’s bound to bug both of them.”

  “How would it bug them if they’re through with us?”

  “They won’t want to see us together…and that’s exactly what we’d do. We’ll show up in all the places they are and just be together.”

  He stared at her. “You’re crazy.”

  “Just for a few weeks.”

  “And what? Follow them around the park and the grocery store?”

  She nodded. “Something like that. I’ve already got tickets to the rodeo he’s competin’ in.”

  Noah groaned. “I’m competin’ too.”

  She stepped up to him. “Then I’ll sit in your box and cheer you on. What do you say?”

  He studied her for a long heartbeat. She thought he’d call her crazy again and walk out the door. But he gave a slow nod.

  Her grin spread.

  “I say what do we got to lose?” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, creating an enticing rasping noise.

  “Certainly not self-respect,” she interjected.

  “No. That’s already gone.”

  “Right,” she agreed. A spark lit in her mind. “First order of business is coffee. Jake likes to drink coffee and have a Saturday morning cinnamon roll at the coffeeshop.”

  “Son of a bitch!”

  She coiled up at his outburst. “What?”

  “I thought it was odd that Shana started liking coffee.”

  “See? C’mon. Finish dressing and we’ll head to the coffeeshop. I bet they’re already there.”

  “I’m mostly dressed. It’s you who needs to get your act together.” When he drawled this, his dimple flickered, as if it didn’t know if it wanted to make an appearance, either from the situation or because he didn’t have any caffeine in his system yet.

  As she located her skirt and top, she threw looks at Noah’s sexy body. She wished she had a better memory of it, but the tequila did most of the talking the previous night.

  When they faced each other, fully dressed, with an odd and weirdly satisfying plan in place, Noah nodded at her once. “I’m ready for that coffee.”

  “So am I. In more ways than one.”

  * * * * *

  Son of a bitch. They were actually here, sitting in the corner table looking cozy over steaming coffee and the damn cinnamon rolls.

  Noah couldn’t believe what he was seeing—or what he was planning to do by flaunting in front of the couple with Maya Ray. He must have left all his good sense at the bottom of that tequila bottle, because he never would have agreed to something like this before today.

  He was a planner by nature. A solid guy. Ask anyone. He didn’t make rash decisions or bad choices. Since the age of ten, he knew exactly how he’d ask a girl to marry him, what words he’d say and which knee he’d bend.

  All that had gone up in smoke the minute Maya Ray suggested they pretend to be together simply to bug their exes. Petty? Sure. But he could think of a few reasons he’d want to piss off Shana. He’d been days away from popping the question, and she up and left for…

  He turned his head from the sight of them together.

  Luckily, Maya Ray picked up whatever slack he let off. Clinging to his arm, she waltzed him up to the glass counter. “What will you have, baby?” she asked him.

  “Coffee.”

  “Yes, two coffees.” She eyed him and whispered from the corner of her lips, “They’re looking at us.”

  Noah’s inner actor kicked in, and he wrapped an arm around Maya Ray’s waist, pulling her close. He bowed to her ear, same as the night before. This time, he whispered, “Do you take cream with your coffee?”

  Her eyes went dewy. She braced a hand on his chest and gazed at him as if he was the most amazing, intriguing man on the planet.

  “Yes, I do. How naughty of you to ask.” She booped him on the nose with her index finger.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw the poor clerk roll her eyes at their antics but he also saw the two people at the back of the coffeeshop watching with jaws dropped.

  He turned to the clerk with a smile he hoped made up for their disgusting display. “Just the coffee.”

  She nodded and hurried off to fetch the tray. Maya Ray stepped aside but retained her grip on his hand. “Are they still looking at us?”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “Are they talking?”

  “No. Their jaws are hanging open.”

  She squealed and pressed a hand to his chest again. “Goody! It’s working. God, I need this coffee and half a bottle of painkillers. My head’s freakin’ killing me.”

  He chuckled this time for real. After paying for their coffees, he gathered the tray in one hand, and leading her with the other, he settled them at a table within view of the happy couple. Or happy couple wearing shocked expressions.

  He picked up his mug and brought it to his lips. “Okay, you’re right. This is actually satisfying.”

  “Right?” Her eyes glimmered over the rim of her own mug. She took a sip and moaned. The sound throttled his memory, and half a dozen positions, kisses and the flavor of her pussy hit his brain.

  He sipped his coffee too fast and scalded his tongue.

  “Are you okay?” she asked as he hastily set his mug down and sloshed it onto the tray.

  “Burned my tongue,” he grumbled.

  She looked over his shoulder at the other table and then shifted her attention back to him. She leaned across the table and kissed him square on the mouth. “There. All better?”

  Actually, way worse. Now he recalled all of the night before, and he was hard and throbbing on top of being burnt and ticked off to be in the same restaurant as his ex and her D-bag new man.

  “He’s a fake cowboy. What did you ever see in him?” he asked Maya Ray.

  She wore a wide, fake smile on her face to match his words. “I have no idea. I didn’t realize what a slicked up dick he is until…well, just until.” She dropped her gaze to his chest and then centered it on her coffee.

  “What’s after this?” he asked, attempting another sip.

  She had a cute way of angling her head when in thought. “Depends on if he needs supplies or wants to just browse on a Saturday morning.”

  “So the tack shop or the feed store?”

  “You got it.” She grinned, and this time it looked real. Her eyes lit, and the genuine look of joy on her face at torturing their exes brought a laugh to his lips. “We’ll try the feed store first, shall we?”

  “Yup. I’ll pick up some feed for my momma’s chickens,” he said.

  “So you’re a Wynton.”

  “That’s right.” The coffee was kicking in.

  “I didn’t recognize you at first. Then you smiled.”

  His brain caught up to her statement. “Oh. The dimple.”

  She reached out and poked a finger into it, looking pointedly over his shoulder at the couple. “Yes, it’s very notable. All the Wynton men have that dimple.”

  “A family curse. Anyway, I don’t know if I really like
them watching us.”

  “Me either. But it’ll be worth it just knowing that their thoughts are consumed by us being together. Same as ours have been these past two weeks.”

  “Hell, you’re right.” He could think of worse ways to spend his time than with a quirky and beautiful woman with a ready smile. As soon as the couple got up, he saw the shift in Maya Ray.

  “They’re coming this way.”

  Seeing how rattled she was that her ex was approaching, Noah reached out and enfolded her fingers with his. “Just look into my eyes, sweet thing. And ask me to stick out my boot and trip him so he falls on his face.”

  His ploy worked—Maya Ray burst out in tinkling, free-spirited laughter as Jake and Shana rushed toward them.

  Maya Ray stopped and gave them a shocked look. “Oh, I didn’t see you guys in here. Were you here the whole time?”

  Shana looked about to puke, and Noah felt his own stomach hollowing out the longer she stood there with her new man. Maya Ray, though, made a show of looking them over. “Isn’t that cute? Noah,” she dragged him into the conversation, “aren’t they just the cutest? They’re wearing matching shorts!”

  “Actually, they aren’t matching. We just—” Shana started.

  Maya Ray cut her off with a wave of her hand and another laugh. “Anyway, we’re having our coffee and then running some errands. We’ll see you around!” With that, she turned her attention back to Noah.

  Playing along, he shot her a wink and made sure to flash his dimple for good measure. Shana grabbed Jake’s arm, and they sailed out the door, with Maya Ray’s laughter chasing them.

  The minute they left, she dropped the act and picked up her coffee. Looking miserable with her hangover, she snorted. “Freakin’ matching shorts.”

  “Now she dresses like a douche-bag too.”

  Maya Ray beamed a grin in his direction. “Definitely.”

  Chapter Three

  Maya Ray collapsed onto her sofa, exhausted by her day. Not only was she suffering from a banging headache but her stomach turned sour from seeing Jake with that fake woman on his arm.

 

‹ Prev