Devil In Cowboy Boots

by Sylvie Kaye

  After sticking his feet into the legs of his pants, he hefted the waist of his jeans upward until all too soon his muscled thighs and tight butt were covered from her view.

  "Aren't you going to get dressed?” He looked over at her watching him jam his feet into his boots once more.

  "I was enjoying the show.” She grinned. It wasn't everyday she got to look on as such a hunky man undressed and dressed for her pleasure. In stark daylight, no less. Actually, it was never, until today.

  Spence snatched up her clothing and hopped down from the tractor. Holding them just out of her reach, he teased, “I'm enjoying your nudie show even more."

  With a laugh, she lunged, joining in the fun by grabbing for her clothes while he switched them from hand to hand.

  When she was pressed against him, flailing for his arms, he asked, “What would Cindy say about your panty-less tractor ride with an alleged killer?"

  "Cindy! I forgot to call her back. She'll be frantic with worry.” She gestured to her jeans. “My cell phone's in the pocket."

  He handed her jeans over and helped her wriggle her legs into them, when a screech filled the air.

  "Stop right there, Killer. Let her go."

  Spence glanced over his shoulder to see Cindy high-stepping down the path in her shaky shoes, waving her arms, and whirling her handbag like a bolo.

  Mercy stopped squirming and went still.

  "I see I got here in the nick of time. Don't think about using violence on her,” Cindy warned. “I have pepper spray and the cab driver is on alert to call 911. One whistle from me and he'll radio for backup."

  He stood in front of Mercy, blocking her friend's view while she finished shimmying into her jeans. He hoped she'd hurry dressing because he didn't want to tangle with Cindy. A sheen of perspiration broke out across his upper lip and forehead. As soon as Mercy shoved her feet into her sneakers, he sidled away so Cindy could see her friend was alive and unhurt.

  As Cindy closed in, Spence moved to stand behind Mercy. Safer to let the ladies fight it out.

  "Calm down, Cindy.” Mercy held up her hands. “I'm all right. Everything is all right. A big misunderstanding is all."

  "Has he forced you into saying that?” Cindy scowled in his direction, aiming the spray. “Do you have a gun to her back?"

  "No.” He held up both empty hands.

  "I should've called,” Mercy said. “Time slipped away."

  Cindy squinted, taking in Mercy and Spence's rumpled appearances. “They call him Killer. It must mean something."

  "His friend died, and he's searching for the killer. It's all a sad misunderstanding."

  He hoped Mercy's words penetrated her friend's floppy-haired skull. But Cindy continued to glare at him, so Spence pointed toward Mercy, gesturing with his finger to believe what she said.

  At last, Cindy eyed Mercy again. “If you say so.” She lowered the hand holding the pepper mace.

  "Thank you for coming to my rescue.” Mercy hugged her. “Even though it wasn't necessary. Now, we'd better get back up to the house. The meter must be running on your cab.” They linked arms. “I insist on paying the taxi fare."

  "No,” Cindy protested.

  "No.” Spence agreed. Digging some bills from his pocket, he said, “I'll pay."

  One way or another he was sure he would anyway.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Twenty

  What had he gotten himself into?

  On the trot back to the ranch house, Cindy continued to vent while Mercy insisted, “He's harmless."

  Spence bit back his bitterness. He didn't need anymore people in his life who didn't believe him. The twelve-person jury, along with the prosecutor and the so-called eyewitness, Parker, had been enough. Deep in his bones, he felt it was only a matter of time until Mercy's friend turned her against him.

  He didn't want to let go of Mercy just yet. He didn't want to be alone with his thoughts and memories. During his jail term they'd haunted him constantly. Probably would again as soon as she was gone from his life.

  She brought him smiles and brightness, and he meant to enjoy her until she flew back home. He stood aside when she stuffed Cindy into the cab.

  With the taxi door open, Mercy turned to him. “About Cindy jumping to conclusions ... her intentions were well aimed."

  "So was her pepper spray.” He was eager to put Cindy behind them and show Mercy his rumpled bed sheets.

  "I'm going to ride back with her. It's the least I can do after she came all the way out here.” She met his eyes. She was the only softness or kindness to happen to his life in a long time.

  He gave a slight shrug. “I'm sorry about the misunderstanding."

  And he was. Neither woman deserved the scare the rumors about him had caused. And that was a prime reason he shouldn't fool around with the none-too-streetwise Mercy.

  But was he fooling?

  Only himself. His heart hammered. He wanted her, like a man wanted a woman he'd never let go.

  But he couldn't pursue a serious relationship until this nasty business with Parker was settled, which looked like it may never happen.

  "I'll apologize to Cindy for you, once she's calmer."

  "When will that be? She doesn't seem like the calming down kind.” He peeped into the cab, where she sat still holding her container of pepper mace.

  Not any time tonight would be his guess. He might as well track Google down. See what news the snitch had for him, if any.

  "I didn't get to see your haystack,” Mercy teased, lightening the heavy mood.

  "Next time.” He wanted to kiss her but held back. Not now, when he wasn't giving her the whole truth.

  There wouldn't be a next time at the ranch. Mercy in the nighttime was one thing, but Mercy in the daytime was heartbreaking. He couldn't let her into his home and this close to his heart again.

  "Will I see you tomorrow?” She turned and climbed into the cab.

  "You'll see me,” he promised, admiring her tight ass.

  By the time the taxi disappeared into a cloud of dust, he'd mooned over her enough. He had to focus on his goal.

  * * * *

  Jay punched in the numbers to Cindy's cell. The twit had left work early and hadn't returned. What rotten luck. Just when he'd worked up the gumption to screw her, she'd gotten ill.

  He needed her, now. Pressure was mounting and big dollars were on the table. His company's biggest rival required the plans for the new line within the week while they had plenty of time to retool for next year's production. Cindy's password was key to getting into the file untraced. If the break-in was ever discovered, she'd end up taking the fall. Or so Google had guaranteed him.

  "Hello,” her shrill voice sang out, grating his nerves like chalk on a blackboard. If she was the type who talked during sex, he wasn't sure he could maintain a hard-on.

  "Are you all right?” he asked with faked concern.

  "Yes,” she cooed, falling for his artificial anxiety. “Mercy needed my help."

  "Are we still on for tonight?"

  "My place at six."

  "Everyone's gone for the day.” He dug into his desk drawer for his antacids. “And I'll be leaving shortly."

  "I'll be here, waiting,” she sing-songed, off pitch and piercing. He held the receiver away from his ear, wondering if he could talk her into a ball gag.

  He shivered, and not with anticipation. Dread ate away at his gut. He wasn't used to kissing up to any woman who didn't turn him on. Loosening his tie, he popped open the bottle of antacids, wishing it was Viagra. The lid flew and landed in a corner of the hardwood floor.

  "Should I bring a pizza or something?” He doubted he could eat with his stomach burning this way, but he had to offer to make it look good.

  "I ate at the club with Mercy. She stayed on while I rushed home to get certain things.” Her tone turned sickeningly sweet. “Things like the tub and the candles set up for this evening."

  "I'm really not hungry anyway.
I ate a late lunch,” he lied, tossing back two pills and chewing.

  "See you soon,” she chirped.

  No sooner did he say good-bye than Rita slinked into his office. Rita was his type. Beautiful, built, well dressed, and easy. Unlike Cindy, who was loud, flat-chested, tasteless, and easy. Rita plopped her rounded ass onto the side edge of his desk and leaned toward him, flashing her tits.

  "Hiya,” she whispered.

  "Hey, yourself. I thought the building was empty.” He reached out to brush an imaginary piece of lint from her open neckline, letting his fingers linger on the swell of well-displayed cleavage.

  "Naughty, naughty.” She inched away but added in a seductive tone, “We're the only two here."

  He figured now was as good a time as any to find out why Rita was suddenly so hot-for-his-hose. She'd been sniffing after him ever since he'd started paying attention to Cindy.

  "Ever do it on a desk?” he asked, playing aggressive defense.

  "Not on yours I haven't,” she drawled, wrapping her lips around the words.

  Silly question on his part. She was a lousy junior-executive. Her naked butt must've polished half the desks in the company to get promoted this far.

  With an unexpected sweep of her manicured hand, the papers cluttering his desk surface scattered. Pink and green and blue antacids bounced onto the floor as the plastic bottle toppled. She didn't even blink. Before the last pill stopped rolling, she yanked on his tie, pulling him to his feet.

  He went along, curiosity coursing through his veins.

  Once she had him situated in front of her short skirt, his groin nestled between her creamy thighs, she kissed him, hard and hot. Her tongue swept his mouth and tangled with his tongue. As hot as she was, as promising as she tasted, as horny as he became, an alarm went off in his brain.

  "I've got to go.” Business first, especially his lucrative side operation.

  She effectively gagged his protests with her tongue. After a thorough tongue-lashing, he gave in. What the hell was a quickie? Cindy could wait. And what difference would ten more minutes make in the scheme of things.

  As he unzipped, Rita slithered her panties off. Her musky femininity tantalized his nostrils, and he hurried to dig a rubber from his pocket and protect himself. Through narrowed eyes, she watched, slowly spreading her thighs wide, and then even wider.

  "Uh-uh.” He shook his head and turned her around, bending her over his desk so that her lush ass was positioned at just the right height for his penetration.

  Splaying her hands the width of the desk, she gripped the edges. With a provoking wriggle, she egged him on.

  Yielding to impulse, he slapped her sassy backside with his open hand.

  "Ouch,” she yelped. “That was deviant but nice."

  Her pert cheek turned pink and felt warm beneath the palm of his hand. Gratified, he smacked his hand to her other cheek with the same amount of pressure, and it blushed the same shade of pink.

  "Is that all you've got?” she challenged, waggling her butt with a seductive shake.

  He smacked her bottom harder this time. First one side and then the other. Twice more until her buttocks was red and hot and she whimpered, “Fuck me. Fuck me,” after each slap.

  From behind, he slipped two fingers into the folds of her vagina. She was drenched. Her pussy milked his fingers, anxious to be penetrated. When he withdrew them, he spread her moistness between the cheeks of her rear end, his slick fingers zeroing in on her puckered hole.

  "Do you like it this way?” he taunted, sure that she did.

  She moaned. “Yes. Give me all you've got."

  He slipped the tip of his finger in, and she stiffened for a second. Then she pushed against his hand and ground her ass into him. He was in knuckle-deep, when she demanded, “Quit playing around and stick your cock in me."

  Withdrawing his finger, he sunk the pulsing head of his dick into her and halted. She felt tight and wet.

  "Don't stop,” she hissed.

  With his hips, he lunged forward and her muscles parted, giving him easy entrance. He grabbed her hips and plunged, burying himself to his balls. Her bottom gyrated and set a frantic pace. Hard and fast, he drove himself into her. Over and over, flesh slapped flesh. Grunts and groans stole his air.

  Giving as good as she got, she slammed her soft, hot cheeks against his hard pubic bone. Between thrusts, he worked his hand around to her clit and urged her to a climax by flicking his fingers over the engorged nub. Soon, she let out a scream. Her arms went limp and her breasts flattened against the desk. She rested her face to the side and gulped for air. His cock jerked, once, twice, and then he released.

  "You were great,” she gasped, in what sounded like a practiced phrase. Stretching one arm across the desk top, she flicked her fingers until she had a grasp on the tissue box.

  He moved away and disposed of the condom while she cleaned herself up. By the time he was zipped and tucked, she was dressed.

  He noticed she didn't park her butt on his desk this time. Her ass was probably still cherry-red and on fire. She stood alongside him as he stuffed some papers he'd scooped from the floor into his briefcase. He checked his wristwatch. He had to get going or Cindy would be miffed. She was hard enough to take when she was in a good mood.

  "Are you going to the Starry Night?” Rita asked.

  "Not tonight."

  She raised an eyebrow. “You aren't taking that loudmouth in the clunky shoes out alone somewhere, are you?” Her tone was tinged with suspicion.

  "I might be. What's it to you?” He clicked his case shut, met her eye to eye.

  She stroked her hand down the length of his tie. “I'm not stupid. You can't possible be interested in her. There must be something in it for you. I know it can't be her social standing; she has none. Other than at a seedy bar on the river. So,” she purred, “it must be work related."

  His stomach began burning again, but he wouldn't give Rita leverage by scavenging the floor for his antacids.

  "You have a wild imagination,” he bluffed. “You should keep it on what you're good at.” He glanced down at her crotch before brushing by her.

  She trailed after him. “You're up to something, and I want in on it.” He opened the door and strode down the hallway toward the elevator. “I won't rest until I figure out what it is.” Her voice echoed through the empty offices.

  "Bitch,” he mumbled under his breath as he punched the down button.

  * * * *

  "You're here.” Cindy shrieked and jumped into Jay's arms right after he rang the bell and she flung the door open.

  He forced himself to kiss her on the mouth but refused to go so far as to use his tongue. He had to act and soon. With Rita nosing around, he couldn't waste any more time and risk the deal going sour, like his gut. He'd get what he came after tonight. Fortified with enough antacids to stomach the job, he proceeded to seduce Cindy.

  He groped her breast over her gaudy blouse. His fingers sank into the crisp, neon-green cotton material and something squishy. She continued kissing him as if she was numb to his advance.

  He squeezed harder, until finally he pressed into pliant flesh, and she moaned in response. That must be one hell of a bra she was wearing. Unfortunately, he'd find out soon enough just how padded.

  Back to the business at hand, he asked, “Where's the tub?"

  "Through there,” she croaked like a frog and pointed down the hallway, and he tugged her by the wrist in that direction.

  When they entered the spacious bathroom, he slipped the knot open on his silk tie and flung it onto the sink. Next, he shrugged out of his jacket, dropping the expensive garment onto the cold marble floor. Hell, he'd probably have to burn all his clothes when he returned to his apartment after performing the dirty deed with Cindy. He didn't want any remembrances of this night, other than her password.

  With performance anxiety and Cindy foremost on his mind, he noticed the Mesopotamia almost as an afterthought. “The tub looks better than it d
oes in the sales pamphlet."

  He was sure next year's model would look even more impressive and worth every buck the competition was paying him.

  He turned the brass spigots and water poured forth, warm and steamy. Maybe the room would fog up enough to blur Cindy from his vision. Then he'd pretend she was Rita while he boned her. Rita had definitely lived up to her ‘ravishing’ nickname. His hand rubbed his cock in reverence.

  "You're certainly in a hurry,” Cindy said, massaging his shoulder. “Bad day."

  "Yes, I can't wait to put it behind me,” he said in all honesty. Grabbing the lighter from the shelf, he began putting a flame to the dozen candles circling the tub.

  What did she do, buy out the damn store?

  While humming some dumb love song, she dumped bath salts into the water. The stench of flowers choked his airway, and a headache throbbed in his skull.

  The ache eased somewhat when she flicked the light switch and the room dimmed. Between the steam and the candlelight, he could barely make out her features. Pretending she was another woman would be easy.

  Stepping in front of Cindy, he hastened to unbutton her blouse. She offered no resistance. Once he had it off, he flung it to the side, not looking where it landed nor caring. After that he reached behind her back and undid her bra. The darn thing weighed about five pounds and hit the floor with a thud.

  "They're saline,” she said, hugging him and nipping at his chin.

  "Too chicken for implants, huh?"

  "Are big breasts important to you?"

  "No.” He clasped one of her small mounds in the palm of his hand while he lied. “Everything over a mouthful is a waste.” To prove the point, he suckled the nipple on one of her deflated tits.

  "And to quote a woman I know, you've said a mouthful.” She arched her back, making it easier for him to nibble.

  "It figures a woman said that,” he mumbled. A small breasted one, he'd bet.

  With a pop, he broke suction. Enough with the foreplay.

  "Let's get wet.” He didn't wait for her to reply but started flinging the rest of his clothes off.