Unbuttoned

by Maisey Yates

  “In my defense, your hymen doesn’t really do much, so it’s easy to kind of let it slip your mind.”

  “Carly . . .” he said, a warning note in his tone.

  “Fine. I didn’t think it would matter. Or, rather, I figured it would matter but I didn’t want it to, so I thought I’d leave it out of the conversation.”

  “You should have saved that for someone special.” The impact of his words hit hard.

  “Why? I wasn’t saving it for anyone, I was just being a stupid scaredy-cat who didn’t want to get hurt. Who didn’t want to run the risk of getting too wild for fear that if I lost too many inhibitions I might. . . .” She took a breath. “Anyway, I wasn’t saving it for Mr. Right, okay, so don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you’re afraid I’m going to handcuff you to the bed.”

  His eyes widened. “I don’t think you know exactly how not scary that is.”

  She growled. “You know what I mean. I’m not trying to rope you into commitment or anything. In fact, that’s the very last thing I want. I wanted a night, a night to . . . let my hair down, which you did quite nicely, and thank you.”

  She slid out of the bed, clutching the covers to her chest, effectively pulling the covers from over his body, revealing all that he had to offer. She turned away sharply. “I’m just going to go,” she said.

  “So, wait a second, I was just your one-night good time?”

  “Like it could ever be more, Lucas? We don’t even . . . get along.”

  “We got along fine tonight,” he said.

  “That’s different. We were . . . y’know. Not talking. And see, now we’re talking again and it’s turning into fighting, which seems to be the way it works between the two of us.”

  “Because I found out you were keeping an important piece of information from me.”

  “You wouldn’t have slept with me if you’d known I was a virgin?”

  “No,” he said.

  “Well . . . so you’re saying you regret it?”

  He rolled into a sitting position, and even though she was mad at him, her eyes were glued to his muscles. “No. Stay there.” He walked into the bathroom and came back a moment later having discarded the condom. “I don’t regret it.”

  “You can’t have it both ways,” she said.

  “Yes. Yes, I can. I wish I would have known. I would have turned you away. I would have told you not to make your first time happen with a guy you don’t even like. And then I would have regretted my chivalry, but I still would have done it. I don’t regret this. I can’t, but I should. Your brother . . .”

  “Has absolutely no place in a conversation we’re having while completely naked.”

  He put his hands up. “Fine.”

  “I’m going now.”

  “Great,” he growled, sitting on the bed and leaning back, his arms crossed over his chest. “See you around.”

  She huffed and started looking around.

  “Your clothes?” She nodded. “Downstairs.”

  “Grrr,” she said, hoisting the covers up so she wouldn’t trip and heading down the stairs.

  Lucas let his head fall back against the headboard. He was pretty sure his body was seconds away from bursting into flame if he didn’t get inside Carly again as soon as possible. But that was if his head didn’t explode first from the sheer exasperation the woman made him feel.

  A virgin. A damned virgin.

  As if the whole thing could have been any less appropriate. She was Mac’s younger sister, and he knew, knew for a fact, that his friend would castrate him with ranch equipment no matter her status, but that she’d never even had a lover before put him danger of being hog-tied and run over by a tractor.

  Not that he would ever find out about any of it, but it was the principle. More than that, it was the fact that he felt like she deserved more. More than she was asking for. More than he could give.

  And all he really wanted was to do it again.

  She doesn’t want you, anyway. Not forever. She just wanted a good time.

  That really shouldn’t surprise him. She saw him as some kind of good-time guy. A way for her to scratch an itch without being in danger of getting in too deep. Which made sense, really. He wasn’t the kind of man people formed lasting attachments to. That had been proven in his life time and again. Most notably with his mother, who, since she’d walked out the door just after he’d turned ten, had never been back.

  Why should Carly be any different? Why would she be the one who suddenly wanted more from him?

  Damn. He wanted more. More of her body at least. Another round.

  He hit his head against the headboard a second time for good measure.

  There would be no other round. There couldn’t be.

  Chapter Six

  “I think this is absolutely perfect,” Carly said, turning to shake Dave Callahan’s hand. The old rancher had graciously offered up his entire property, free of charge, to be the site of the rodeo and all of its events. “Thank you so much.”

  The ranch was much better than the arena they’d originally planned on using. Here they would have room for parking and to set up games and prizes, the dunk tank, food carts and face painting.

  She put her hands on her hips and surveyed her surroundings, taking in a deep breath of the warm, hay-sweetened air.

  “Yeah, this should do just fine, but I’ll need to see the arena.”

  Carly whipped around sharply just in time to see Lucas getting out of his pickup truck. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her heart in her throat.

  He was so sexy, his hard, muscular body leaning against the side of the truck, lean hips and . . . other assets displayed by his dark, tight jeans.

  “I’m here to make sure this venue will work for the riders. We’re talking lots of stock trailers and trucks, plus the arena needs to be workable for us to set up chutes.”

  “Professional consultation?”

  “You could say that.” He stepped forward and shook Dave’s hand. “Which way do I go, Dave?” he asked.

  “Just over that way. If you can find it yourself, I’ve got some admin work to finish up in the office.” He tipped his hat. “Been a pleasure, Ms. Denton.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Callahan,” she said. She sort of wished she could call the old cowboy back and make him stay because she really needed a buffer between her and Lucas right then.

  “Take me to the arena,” Lucas said.

  He didn’t seem different, which sort of made her feel . . . bad. She had thought maybe he’d act awkward. She felt awkward. It just didn’t seem fair that he was walking around with the same ease he always had after he’d . . . after they’d . . . less than twenty-four hours earlier.

  Her whole world was freaking rocked and he just seemed fine.

  Lucas followed Carly, his eyes glued to her backside, swaying in that fitted pencil skirt of hers. She looked out of place on a ranch. All tailored and prim. Buttoned up. He’d just unbuttoned her the night before, but it hadn’t seemed to take.

  She was so damn sexy. And the worst, or maybe best, part of it was, that he knew what that ass looked like bare, knew how soft her skin was. He gritted his teeth and waged a war on his hardening erection.

  He wasn’t some horny teenager. He knew how to keep his body under control. At least, he usually did, but Carly was testing him. And this was not the time or the place.

  The condom burning a hole through his wallet mocked that thought. He never did that. Never stuck one in his wallet just in case, because he liked to plan things better than that. He didn’t meet up with women just for sex. He always took them out at least once. And maybe that was a feeble attempt at making past behaviors seem acceptable, but it was what it was.

  Still, the fact that he’d come packing today made a moc
kery of all those rules. But then, so did sleeping with Carly in the first place.

  An image flashed through his mind, her arching against him, bare breasts against his chest. He nearly groaned out loud.

  “Okay, here it is,” she said, indicating the large, covered arena. “We’ll have to rent bleachers, but that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Right.” He was supposed to be focusing on the facility. On whether or not it would be a safe place for the cowboys to ride. But he was having a hard time focusing on anything other than the generous curve of Carly’s breasts.

  “Do you think it looks good?”

  “So good.”

  “Oh . . . great.”

  Damn. He’d meant her body, not the arena. He hadn’t looked closely enough at the arena. He walked away from her and paced a circle around the area.

  “Yeah, everything’s fine,” he reiterated.

  “Great then, I think this is the ideal place to have it, and the best part is, we get to use it free of charge. We’ll have to make sure we’re extra diligent with getting a cleanup crew out here, but I think it will be perfect.”

  She turned to face him, impish excitement glittering in her blue eyes, and for a moment, she looked like the Carly he used to know. “Did I tell you we get to use the barn for booths?”

  “Which barn?”

  “There’s an old one he never uses. There are some tractors in it, but it will be easy to clear out for the Ride.”

  “Show me,” he said, the command anything but innocent.

  Carly seemed to miss the rough undertone in his voice. Or if she heard it, she’d managed to become a better actress in the space of the past day.

  “It’s across the field, but we could take the access road and keep the mud off our shoes,” she said.

  “I don’t mind a little mud on my shoes,” he said.

  Carly rolled her eyes and lifted her foot. “These have three-inch heels.”

  “Take them off.”

  “Lucas, I’m not going to take my shoes off and run barefoot through a field.”

  He shrugged. “Why? You used to do it all the time.”

  “But I’m an adult now.”

  He took a risk. “And up until last night there were quite a few things you hadn’t done, but you changed that. Too afraid to change any more?”

  Color flooded her cheeks, a cool blue flame igniting in her eyes. “Are you . . . daring me?”

  “Yeah,” he said, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops. “I’m daring you.”

  “What, are we twelve?”

  “I think we recently proved we aren’t. Did you use up all your bravery last night?”

  She looked like she didn’t know if she wanted to punch him or smile. Instead, she bent down and started taking off her shoes. She straightened, the high heels dangling from her fingertips. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  She turned and started to cross the gravel parking area then stopped at the edge of the field, at the short wooden fence that probably didn’t do a very good job of keeping anything in or out. “Remember how to climb a fence?”

  “I still climb fences as part of my day job. It’s not my fault I got to grow up to be a cowboy while you had to settle for turning into a grown-up.”

  He planted his boot on the bottom rung and swung his leg up over the top, planting it on the bottom board on the other side before dropping down into the field.

  She followed him, her pace a bit slower, as she was negotiating climbing a fence in a pencil skirt, but she made it to the other side. “All right,” she said, “let’s go. And pray, Miller. Pray I do not step in a cow pie, or your head will be the new centerpiece for my office.”

  “Because you like looking at me so much.”

  “Oh, please.” She looked around the field. It was empty, no cows, no horses. “Race?”

  “I’m going to win.”

  She shrugged. “Not if I cheat.” She then took off running, tugging her skirt up over her thighs as she went, trying to lengthen her strides. And he couldn’t do anything for a full twenty seconds but stand there and watch her.

  Something in his chest expanded, a strange tightness invading his gut. He didn’t know what the hell Carly Denton was doing to him, but he kind of liked it.

  He shook his head and took off after her, making sure he didn’t pass her by. He liked the view far too much to do that.

  When they reached the barn, they were both out of breath. Desire kicked him hard in the gut. It reminded him too much of last night. Of how if had felt to lose himself inside of her, how hot and tight she’d been . . .

  He shook his head and tried to fight off the surging tide of lust that was threatening to overpower him.

  “Come on,” she said, pushing open the barn door and pausing for a moment to put her shoes back on. “I don’t need any rusty nail incidents.”

  He stopped and looked at her, her cheeks flushed, her hair coming out of its bun, strands curling around her face. The run had even made her sweat a little bit, and he was sure he could see some of those freckles of hers showing through her makeup.

  He could see Carly.

  And he couldn’t stop himself from touching her. He leaned forward, skimming her cheekbone with his thumb. “You’re beautiful, Carly, do you know that?”

  Her eyes widened. “I don’t think about it that much.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean . . . I make myself look as nice as I can, but I don’t think that much about it.”

  “Well, I’m sorry no man ever told you, then, because they should have. You’re beautiful. Not just everyday beautiful, either. It’s like . . . no matter how many times I look out my window in the morning and see the view, I have to stop and really take it in. You’re like that.”

  It wasn’t the most poetic speech, but he wasn’t the kind of guy who was used to making speeches of any kind. But he wanted her to know. He wanted her to know there was more to life than being respected. There was grass between your toes, the sun on your back, soft skin beneath your hands. Oh, he wanted her soft skin beneath his hands again.

  She swallowed. “Lucas, you don’t have to say things like that.”

  “I know I don’t have to, but it’s true.”

  “So you decided to be nice today, huh? What changed?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were kind of a jackass last night, to be honest.”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t handle that very well. I’m sorry.” His brain had nearly short-circuited when he’d found out she’d never been with anyone else. He’d never considered himself the kind of man who would care about something like that.

  Truth be told, he didn’t think there was a virgin left in the pool of women he would be choosing from. He’d never encountered one before, so he didn’t see any reason why he would now.

  But it had mattered. Because, like it or not, he was her first. And you remembered your first. He remembered his first vividly, after more than ten years. And now he’d shared that with Carly, who he had no hope of leaving behind—not like his first lover, who he hadn’t seen since high school.

  Carly was part of his life, and when he’d discovered she was a virgin, it had really driven home what he’d already known: This wasn’t something she normally did. And it was going to change things.

  That had brought some hefty guilt along with it.

  Still, he was here, in the barn with her, and he wasn’t even going to pretend his intentions were anything close to chaste or honorable.

  The condom in his wallet was proof.

  “I’m going to kiss you now,” he said.

  She blinked. “Why?”

  “Because you need to be kissed.”

  “I do?”

  “Hell if I know. Fine, I need to be kissed. I need you to kiss me beca
use I haven’t thought of anything but you since last night. Probably since before then.”

  Her breathing quickened, her breasts rising and falling sharply. “Well, if you need a kiss, I suppose I could help you out.”

  She leaned in, her lips cool from the run through the field, pressing against his, her tongue tracing the outline his mouth. And he let her in.

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against him, loving the feel of all those lush curves, of the softness of her lips, the little sounds of pleasure she made in the back of her throat when his tongue stroked hers.

  If there was a woman alive sexier than Carly Denton, he couldn’t think of her. And he didn’t want to. He just wanted Carly. Only Carly.

  He couldn’t remember a woman ever mattering so much. He slid his hands down her back, over her ass, bunching up the fabric of her skirt.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered against his lips.

  “I want you,” he said. He hardly recognized his own voice. “Here. Now.”

  “Here?”

  “Live dangerously, sugar.” He leaned in and kissed her neck, nipping her earlobe. She shivered beneath his touch and he knew that she was going to say yes. Because she couldn’t say no. He knew that because he couldn’t. Because he was utterly powerless to do anything but give in to the surge of heat that was pouring through him.

  His cock ached, pressing hard against the seam of his jeans. He needed her. Needed this. But he would wait for her response. Would wait for her to say yes.

  “After this we’re going out for french fries,” she said, kissing him again, deeper, harder.

  “Sounds like a plan,” he said. He gripped her thighs and hoisted her legs up around his waist, walking her deeper into the barn. “Panties off,” he said, setting her down, waiting for her to find her balance on her heels before he released his hold on her and started undoing his belt.

  She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. She drew her panties down her legs and held them, unwilling, he could tell, to leave them on the floor of the barn.

  He held his hand out. “I’ll take those.”

  Color suffused her cheeks and he almost laughed. Instead, he took the delicate silk scrap from her hand and shoved it deep into his pocket. “A little safer,” he said.