Devil In Cowboy Boots

by Sylvie Kaye

  He nibbled higher and tugged at her earlobe, imitating what he planned to do to her stockings with his teeth. She shivered an encouraging response, her throat vibrating in a husky moan.

  Damn, but she got to him. He was rock-solid by the time she took his hand and led him into her bedroom.

  Mercy positioned her sensual body on the scented, satin sheets and held her slender arms out to him, coaxing, eager. He looked down at her, so seductively beautiful.

  He didn't have the right. But also he didn't have the will to leave. He knelt on the mattress in front of her, sliding his palms up her calves, over her thighs and down again. He teased her responsive flesh several times, enjoying her shivers beneath the meshy fishnets and his hands.

  He traced kisses along the same path, up her long legs and back down, heating her cool, sleek skin with his mouth. When he started upward again, he worked his tongue into the cobwebby fabric of her stockings and tickled the tender flesh behind her knees and on the inside of her creamy thighs. She moved restlessly, and her skirt hitched higher on her hips, revealing a seductive flash of her black panties.

  But he restrained himself from going right for the tasty target. Darting his tongue through the holes of her hose, he licked a slow trail up her leg and ran his open mouth over the exposed flesh at the top of her thigh-high stocking. Mercy's skin quivered beneath his touch while her breathing quickened into soft, steady pants.

  Still, he took his time, taking hold of the spidery top of one stocking with his teeth and tugging downward. She moved her legs wider apart to assist him, and he lost his cool midway to her knee, quickly backtracking to her inner thigh. With her skirt up around her waist, he had easy access to her irresistible pussy.

  He wriggled the slinky material of her panties aside with his index finger and slipped the tip of his tongue inside. He teased at her clit, lapping his tongue over her slickness several times before grating the tasty morsel with his teeth and tugging rhythmically.

  Her moans told him how much she delighted in his vigorous efforts. He stopped to tease her further. “Do you prefer tongue or teeth, babe?"

  "Both. Don't stop.” She tangled her fingers in his hair and directed him back to where she wanted him.

  He chuckled and went with little resistance.

  She was moist, sweet, and ready. Her sensitive nub had swelled and hardened. She arched, grinding against his mouth.

  He stopped again. “I haven't finished with your stockings."

  "Oh, yes, you have.” She rolled toward the nightstand where a shopping bag was stashed beneath. Digging in she pulled out a pair of sewing shears. Handing the scissors to Sinner, she demanded, “Either peel them off or cut them off."

  "In a hurry, huh?” He loved her spontaneous reactions. Unlike other women he knew, she was unrehearsed and genuine in her desires.

  He eased one blade underneath a netted hole near her toe, clipping slowly, allowing the sleek metal to tantalize her sensitive flesh, especially the closer he inched up her leg toward her inner thigh. She shivered. Her breath halted. The danger, the excitement, the innate trust involved in the act wasn't lost on her. Or him. His nerve endings tingled. His cock twitched. With the sharp, pointed tips of the shears aimed threateningly toward her silken-clad pussy, he snipped through the lacy top of the stocking and the fishnet fell away.

  "Hurry. The other one.” She sounded breathy, arousal evident in her sultry voice. While lifting her still-stockinged leg, she wriggled her other free of the shredded remnant.

  Her wiggling made it difficult to slip the sharp tip of the scissors into the fishnet on her upraised foot. “Don't move,” he commanded, clasping her calf in his other hand. She stilled, her immediate compliance a turn-on that tightened his sac. He snipped upward, the black flimsy stocking giving way to reveal a growing slash of her creamy skin that whet his lust.

  By the time he finished, an idea glinted with the hovering scissors.

  "What about your panties?” He waited for her reply.

  "Yes.” Her blue eyes blazed with sexual excitement. She lifted her hips and stilled her breathing.

  Carefully, he worked the blade beneath the narrow strip of fabric at her crotch and cut.

  With a gasp, she exhaled. “I've always wanted crotchless panties."

  He smiled. She was full of unfulfilled fantasies it seemed.

  With a grin, she snatched the scissors and dropped them onto the nearby night table. With her free arm, she cradled his neck and pulled him down on top of her.

  "I take it you're ready,” he muttered.

  She answered him with her mouth, sealing her lips to his, lashing at his tongue with hers, then stopping to nip at his chin and jaw.

  Spence didn't bother to strip her naked or to undress himself. Hurriedly, he worked at his fly, unbuttoning and unzipping to free himself. Her nimble fingers rushed to assist him, and with both their hands in action, they were protected in no time.

  When he entered her, she wrapped her taut legs around his waist and suddenly he wasn't so frantic. She felt tight, wet, and hot, but she also felt different. Different from any woman he'd ever been inside. Like he was in too deep. Yet wanted to stay all night.

  Staying the night was not a practice he indulged.

  Attachments could only slow him down. He had to keep his mind on the prize. On justice for himself and Mark.

  He refocused, and with slow, easy strokes, he rebuilt the urgency to a smoldering height. She clung to him, arched up to meet him, urging him into a wilder tempo with her fingernails and her heels. In a pulsing sensation, his cock flexed and his cum flowed. He continued to pump until her body shuddered and he brought her to orgasm.

  When his arms collapsed, he lifted himself up onto his elbows to brush a damp strand of blonde hair from her glistening forehead. Smiling, he uttered, “That was nice,” before he could stop himself.

  He didn't want nice in his life. Especially not nice sex. He had to stick to down-and-dirty and concentrate on getting Parker or his friend, and frequenting whatever smutty places that involved.

  None of which were anywhere near Mercy's clean sheets and sweet body.

  "That was more than nice,” she gasped, catching her breath. “I can't believe I came again. I thought the other night was just a fluke."

  "A nice fluke.” Which he needed space from before he said nice one more time. Rolling away, he slipped from the bed. “I'm thirsty, what about you?"

  She propped her head on one hand, watching him from beneath a questioning brow. “There's bottled water in the fridge."

  After detouring to the bathroom to flush the condom, he thought about grabbing his jeans. But with Cindy out chasing Jay there was no need. Spence headed for the kitchen bare-ass naked.

  When he opened the door to the fridge, a surprise jerked his head back. There, spotlighted in the glow from the bulb and looking as fresh picked as a Spring day, was the corona he'd bought Mercy.

  He lifted the circle of flowers and sniffed at their faint fragrance. Why had Mercy kept them? He thought women only kept flowers from men they cared about.

  The patter of her bare feet made him glance her way. He sucked in his breath. Mussed yet sexy, in a light blue, silky robe that brought out the brightness of her eyes yet opened to expose her dewy skin, Mercy somehow managed to look pure and nasty all at the same time.

  Sliding her arm around his waist, she joined him in front of the open refrigerator. “Find anything good?” She touched the hand holding the corona of flowers.

  Her filmy robe against his naked skin felt sleek and smooth and her body underneath accessible. His urge to have her again was overwhelmed by a silly impulse to kiss the top of her head.

  "I was surprised to see you'd kept them,” he said to stop himself from following through with the affectionate gesture.

  Mercy looked up at him. She didn't answer. She bit her bottom lip, not quite sure how to reply. Flowers from a man who measured his words and actions were not something she'd throw away.

/>   "Flowers are nature's way of smiling.” She quoted the Doriaism, then decided to come clean. He deserved her honesty. He was always forthright with her—bluntly so at times. “Although my pride was hurt because you left without an explanation, I knew missing the bench seat and landing on the ground was an accident.” She pecked his cheek. “Even Cindy's nagging couldn't change my mind."

  He placed the chilled flowers on her head, arranging the halo so the ribbons streamed down her back. The cool edges tickled her spine through the thin robe when he tilted her face up to his for a warming kiss. “Flowers are for wearing, not for saving."

  Before she could reply, he grabbed a green, long-necked bottle of water and slammed the refrigerator door shut on his unexpected sentiment, the glimmer in his eyes, and the gentle tone of his voice, leaving them both in the dark.

  The soft fragrant blooms and the blackness raced Mercy's imagination. She removed the flowers from her hair. Leaning back, she held them between her and Sinner's naked torsos, letting the dangling ribbons tickle his groin.

  He slid her silky robe from her shoulders and tugged the material, pulling her down to lie with him on the cool tile floor. “I can think of a few body parts I wouldn't mind paying floral tribute to."

  She sought his eager mouth in the darkness. “That's why you're my dream guy."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hours later at the front door, Sinner leaned a work-scarred hand against the jamb. He felt lost for parting words. Probably because he didn't want to leave her.

  Mercy didn't seem to have the same problem.

  "Good night,” she gushed. Smiling sweetly, she pecked a kiss to the corner of his mouth and reached for the door latch. She looked tired from their rigorous lovemaking and cocksure where to find him tonight—in his usual spot at the Starry Night Club.

  Before thinking it through, he heard himself say, “I can stop by later with takeout for dinner."

  Shock widened her eyes and froze her fingers to the latch.

  Damn, his offer had come out sounding like a date.

  "Or I can see you at the Riverwalk, at the Starry Night,” she amended.

  Yeah, he'd scared her all right. She obviously wanted things between them to stay on a casual track.

  And so did he. Despite his sentimental lapse in judgment earlier. Why should he care if she'd kept his flowers?

  As she groped at the hardware, she studied his face, probably wondering why he was suddenly acting like a man misled by a satiny bed. He knew the score. There wasn't anything between them but sex.

  Grabbing onto the doorknob, she twisted it.

  He shoved his hands into his jean pockets, his tall frame blocking her from opening the door. “Do you like Chinese, Italian, or Mexican food?” he pursued when he probably should've dropped it.

  But food wasn't a date. Her serious eyes were reading too much into his simple offer to feed her.

  "Food can be downright erotic,” he said, and her blue eyes took on a sultry edge. He had her interest peaked. And his own. “Take dessert, for instance.” He whispered near her ear. “Hot fudge. Warm and slippery and sweet. Dribbling onto sensitive body parts before being licked away."

  She dropped her hand from the brass knob and licked her lips. “Surprise me."

  "Should I bring enough for three?"

  Her eyes went blank. It took him a moment to catch on. He chuckled. “I wasn't hinting at a threesome."

  She shook her head. “Good because that isn't a fantasy of mine."

  "Do you think your roommate will be here and hungry?"

  "Oh, Cindy.” She smiled. “You meant in case Cindy decided to stay in.” Mercy pointed to the triangle-shaped clock on the wall that read two a.m. “She might still be out."

  "Give me your number, and I'll check before I come over."

  Her smile dropped.

  He should have known. Wanting her phone number sounded too date-like. But he couldn't back down now. It would make it seem significant.

  With a tight fist, she scrunched the throat of her robe and recited her cell number.

  He didn't bother to repeat it, and she didn't seem to care that he didn't. She'd probably prefer if he forgot it and she caught up to him at the club, like before.

  Where nothing resembled a date.

  "Good night.” He lowered his head and kissed her on the mouth. Too light and too sweet.

  But he'd worry about that later. He had all day to get his feelings back under control. Hell, he had until Parker showed up. After that, he'd bet his lone horse other emotions would take charge. Bitter, angry ones.

  He turned and let himself out, hearing her click the lock as soon as he closed the door.

  * * * *

  Mercy flicked her tongue along her bottom lip, tasting the aftermath of his kiss. With a slow slide, she let her feet give out from under her until she ended up sitting on the hard, marble floor.

  "Whew.” That good night kiss had been scary. Too soft, too tender. If this affectionate, non-sexual side of Sinner persisted, she'd have to set him straight. She wasn't about to fall for the dark, perplexing man.

  Forcing herself to stay grounded, she labeled their sensuous acts with the most vulgar term she could think of ... they'd fucked. That was all.

  Sure, he was tall, dark, and desirable. Humorous at times. Gentle on occasion. But all those attributes had to do with sex, she assured herself as she pushed to her feet and headed for the shower.

  An hour later, Cindy arrived home from the Starry Night to a scattering of petals across the kitchen floor and more questions than Mercy cared to answer.

  "I'm supposing the flowers fell out of the fridge, knocking over the water, and the barefooted smudges along with several unrecognizable body imprints were caused by...” She closed one eye as if gauging the scene. “Stop me at any time if you feel I'm off base here.” Cindy giggled from her spot on the kitchen counter where she dangled her legs, her clunky shoes tapping.

  Mercy worked the mop across the floor, erasing the remnants of her rousing romp with Sinner before Cindy got any more graphic with her speculations. “Just good clean fun is all."

  "Calling a sinner good is a stretch of my imagination.” She frowned. “He still worries me. He's so secretive."

  "I'm seeing him again,” Mercy stated, not about to be deterred.

  After a long pause her friend ceded. “My evening with Jay, on the other hand, was wholesomely clean with very little fun."

  "Aw, Cindy, I'm sorry.” She rinsed out the mop. “Didn't he notice your enhanced endowments?"

  Cindy shrugged. “When he left me off, he looked as if he was going to grope me, but instead pecked a quick good-night kiss that landed near my top lip."

  Poor Cindy. “He's getting closer to your mouth."

  She waved it off. “Let's talk about you and the marks on the floor you're so frantic to polish away."

  "Unlike your relationship with Jay, mine and Sinner's is purely physical. My future doesn't include any serious dating with the cowboy, regardless of how hot he is. I have life-changing plans to cement as soon as my uncle comes back or calls."

  Cindy crinkled her brows.

  Mercy shook her head, adamant to affirm her point. “Our relationship is strictly sexual.” She nudged the mop handle toward Cindy's chest. “What happened after Jay almost grabbed your saline sweeties and almost kissed you?"

  "He suggested we get together tonight to finish cropping the pictures for his portfolio."

  "At his place again?” Mercy raised her brow. “That has potential."

  "Not enough. I've decided to pull out the big guns."

  Mercy's eyes widened. Not a bigger cup size!

  Cindy nodded her head, determined. “The Mesopotamia. He's never seen it other than in publicity shots. So if you insist on seeing Sinner and have any designs on the tub, you better go for it tonight.” She eyed Mercy, curiously. “Looks like he's staying the course until the end of your vacation. I wa
s wrong about him bolting after one or two trysts.” Cindy scratched her head. “Makes you wonder, doesn't it?

  "Made me wonder,” Mercy said in all honesty, unsure of the unexpected changes in Sinner but positive her future didn't include him.

  * * * *

  Fresh from the shower, Mercy slipped on jeans and a tank top before joining Cindy in the living room. “I left my cell in here. Did it ring?"

  "Nope.” Her friend's bra-enhanced knockouts were showcased in a red, vee-necked sundress. She was meeting Jay for drinks at the club before heading over to his apartment to finish their digital photography, and she was apparently dressed to give his pixels some stiff competition.

  "No calls. That's good.” Mercy nodded. Sinner had said he'd call before arriving for their date-that-wasn't-a-date so she was able to breathe easy. She was more than happy to let things cool between them until he snapped back to his usual, less affectionate self.

  Her cell phone rang, and her spine stiffened. When she flipped it open, she was grateful to see her mother's number displayed.

  Skipping over the hellos, her mother zinged right to the core of her concern. “I haven't heard from your Uncle Parker. He said he'd call this week."

  "I haven't talked to him either, but as far as I know, he's still out of town."

  "He's never broken his word to me. Why is he acting like this?"

  She pictured her mother wringing the phone cord and picked her words, careful to ward off what sounded like a panic attack on her mother's end. “He's visiting a sick friend. I'm sure he'll turn up soon."

  "He promised to show you and Cindy around San Antonio. He never breaks a promise."

  "And I'm sure he won't break this one either."

  "Call me as soon as you see or hear from him."

  "You can count on it."

  When she hung up, Mercy turned to her friend. “She's upset about my uncle not showing us around. It's out of character for him not to keep his word when it comes to family and friends."

  "I'm sure she's worried about more than that. There's the matter of your uncle and the loan. It's important for her to see you happy."