Wrangler (Star Valley Book 2)

by Dahlia West

  Sawyer smirked at her. “What’s it going to be?”

  She still didn’t answer. Instead, she set down her glass and headed back to the table, rounding the corner to the cue ball on the far side. She looked at the angles on the table then said, “Okay,” as she picked up the chalk cube.

  Sawyer watched her closely, curious about what she was going to do. He’d seen enough of Cassidy’s pool game to know she could make this last shot blindfolded. But the fact that she was taking her sweet time chalking up the cue was interesting to him.

  Maybe Cassidy did want something in his wallet, just not his money.

  She leaned over, denim skirt riding up high, and Sawyer had to take a long sip of his beer to cool himself down. She took a deep breath, lined up her shot, and hit the cue ball with a resounding thwack. It rolled across the table, sure and true, hitting the eight ball squarely on, sending it right into the corner pocket.

  Sending the cue ball right in after it.

  Scratch.

  “Oops,” she declared, tossing her cue stick onto the table.

  Sawyer couldn’t wait any longer. He set down his beer, scooped up his hundred bucks, and stuffed it into his front pocket with one hand while he snagged Cassidy’s arm with the other. He guided her toward the front doors as quickly as her high heels would carry her.

  They crossed the lot, to his parking spot, and he pressed her up against the door of the truck, slanting his mouth over hers. All he could taste was the beer he’d had earlier. “You drunk, Princess?” he asked.

  “No,” she huffed.

  He kissed her again, still tasting not much of anything. She was steady on her feet, not slurring her words, but he’d seen her have two cocktails. “You sure?” he pressed while sliding his hands from her hips to her torso, just inches away from cupping her breasts through her shirt.

  She gave him a sarcastic look. “I’m not drunk, Sawyer. But if you want to say I am so you can give yourself an out, I understand. You’ve never had a woman like me. I can see how you’d be intimidated.”

  It was partially true. Sawyer had never had a woman like smart-mouthed, high-and-mighty Cassidy Conroy…but he was about to. And fuck no, he wasn’t the least bit intimidated.

  She sighed and pushed on his chest.

  Unsure whether or not she was calling the whole thing off, he stepped back, giving her a path back inside the Spur if she wanted to take it. He actually thought she might leave until she grabbed his elbow, turned him, and pressed him up against the truck.

  “I’ll prove it,” she said, giving him a wicked grin.

  In the semi-deserted parking lot, she sank down, placing each of her knees on the toes of his boots. Sawyer watched as she pinched the fly of his jeans with her thumb and forefinger, peeled it back, and drew the zipper partially down…with her teeth.

  Somewhere behind them, he heard a car door slam. He reached down and pulled her up quickly. “All right,” he told her. “All right. I got it. You’re not drunk.” Tempting as the idea was, there was no way he’d let her blow him in public. “What’s gotten into you?” he hissed, yanking open the back door of his extended cab and pushing her inside.

  She giggled and hoisted herself up onto the seat.

  Sawyer took a last look around, saw no one, and climbed in after her, closing the door firmly.

  “I don’t know,” she told him, leaning in and clutching at his arms. “But I know what’s about to.” She slung one leg over him and lowered herself onto his lap.

  His cock jerked in appreciation.

  Her lips found his again, and she kissed him hard while writhing in his lap. Her panty-clad pussy rubbed him tantalizingly. Normally Sawyer would’ve played this out a little bit more, but this, with Cassidy, had been a long time coming, and he wanted her.

  Now.

  “I’m going to make you cum,” he declared. “Harder than you ever have in your life.”

  Cassidy leaned back and smirked at him. “If you make me cum at all, then you win that one just by default.”

  Sawyer hesitated, hand on her thigh. “Never?” he asked, incredulous.

  Cassidy shrugged and shook her head.

  He wanted to laugh. The Ice Queen couldn’t cum. Well, of course not, he thought. She’d have to let her guard down for that…and pick better studs. He kissed her again, laying her down across the backseat while tugging on the buttons of her shirt until he revealed the swells of her breasts inside a black lace bra. He yanked the fabric down and pulled one exquisitely pebbled nipple into his mouth.

  Cassidy arched her back. She had her fingers in his hair, pulling him down, urging him to suck harder. Her perfume was dark and spicy, and it filled Sawyer’s nose in the most pleasing way as he dragged his lips across her soft, bare skin. Keeping his mouth on her because she tasted amazing, he rolled to one hip, and they both unbuckled his belt quickly.

  Cassidy had her fingers on his zipper this time and tugged it down hard. She wrapped her hand around his cock the second it was free. Their petting was frenetic, with Cassidy thumbing the head of his cock and Sawyer pinching her nipple until she hissed sharply.

  She was a bit like an unleashed hellcat, all claws and sudden movements that felt damn good but still had an edge of danger, like she might take your skin off at any moment. She cupped his balls and squeezed a little, not hard enough to hurt him, but Sawyer wasn’t having any of that.

  He grabbed her wrists and drew up her arms, pinning them over her head against the seat. “Relax,” he told her firmly.

  Cassidy laughed. “Relax? We’re fucking, Sawyer. You’re going to make me cum, remember? There is no relaxed.” She snorted. “Maybe you don’t do this enough. Maybe you spend too much time riding horses.”

  Sawyer ignored the insult and the fact that she was trying to pull her arms free from his grip. “Relax, Cassidy,” he repeated, this time so harshly that she stilled underneath him. He rewarded her compliance with a kiss on the lips, dipping his tongue into her mouth ever so slightly. It wasn’t until she finally stopped fighting him, stopped trying to pull out of his hold that he finally, slowly, let go of her.

  He slid his hands down her body, to the hem of her skirt, and lifted it, seeking out the elastic of her panties with his fingertips to pull them down. Her skirt was hiked around her waist, and her bra was askew. Suddenly, inexplicably, Sawyer hated that they were in the truck, sprawled out across his backseat. He hated that she wasn’t naked for him, completely bare, and spread out across his bed. Suddenly this wasn’t nearly enough.

  But he had to be inside her. He couldn’t take much more playing around. The condom in his wallet was barely out of the box tonight, and now he rolled it onto his erection with practiced ease. He grasped her hips and moved her closer. Their quarters were cramped, but he’d take what he could get.

  “Open up for me, Princess,” he whispered as he lowered himself onto her.

  Underneath him, Cassidy went rigid and started to push him away. Quickly, Sawyer’s hand snaked down between her legs and started rubbing her soft, warm flesh. “No,” he told her. “No, no, no. It’s okay. Shhh. It’s okay.”

  His fingers parted her, and he dipped in, just up to the knuckle. She was so wet he groaned, cock stiffening against his belly. “You’re not an ice queen,” he whispered into her ear as he scissored his fingers inside her. “I was wrong about that. You’re so fucking hot, Cassidy. Let me in. I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

  She hesitated and didn’t answer.

  Sawyer pulled away from her just a bit, enough to look into her eyes. “I promise,” he repeated.

  She finally nodded and gripped his hips, pulling him close.

  Sawyer sank into all that wet heat slowly, not able to enjoy it fully with the rubber between them, but he was determined to keep his promise. He wouldn’t hurt her physically, either. She was snug but not tight. After all, she was Cassidy Conroy. But he didn’t care. Not a bit.

  She was his for tonight, and something in the way she’d looked at hi
m just now softened his heart to her at the same time it had hardened his cock. He was determined to keep his other promise, as well, to make sure she finished.

  He drove deep and pulled out entirely, again and again, grinding her mound when he was buried in her up to the hilt, that sweet spot where he knew her tight bud of a clit was hiding. The pullouts were torture for them both. Cassidy cried out after the last few strokes, wrapping her legs around him and digging into his ass with her heels in an apparent desperate attempt to keep him inside.

  Sawyer wasn’t used to being spurred on, but he didn’t mind the pain. It paled in comparison to the feeling of her tightening around him, squeezing him harder with each thrust. He could feel her impending orgasm building.

  When he pulled out again she was indignant this time. “Sawyer!” she shouted, but it came out muffled as he crushed his mouth to hers to keep her from alerting anyone in the parking lot. She screamed her climax into his mouth as she shuddered under him, around him.

  Sawyer finally let go of his, emptying into the condom he’d begun to loathe.

  What would it be like to feel Cassidy squeezing him, hot and wet against his bare shaft? Aside from a few unadvised fumblings in high school, he had no idea. It was something to think about, though, surely. The look on her face told him she’d enjoyed it as much as he had. Maybe more.

  As she lay trembling underneath him, Sawyer kissed her forehead, for no reason that he could think of other than it felt like the right thing to do. He closed his eyes, forehead resting against hers, breathing in her sweet, perfumed scent. The sound of her breathing soothed him, and he wondered, if he listened closely enough, if he could hear her heartbeat, as well.

  The moment was abruptly broken, though, at the sound of someone out in the lot, slamming their car door. Reluctantly, Sawyer placed his hands on the seat and pushed himself away. In the dark, he pulled up his jeans and buckled his belt as Cassidy searched for her panties on the floorboards.

  She dressed hurriedly, shirt only partially buttoned when she reached for the handle of the door.

  “Hey,” he said to her, reaching out his hand, but she was up off the seat and already out of the truck’s cab.

  “Damn it,” Sawyer bit out as he threw open his own door to chase her.

  He caught up to her in the lot just as she reached her car. “Where are you running off to so fast?” he asked her.

  Cassidy didn’t even glance back. She laughed in that brittle way she did when they were in public. The Ice Queen was back, but this time Sawyer saw it for the act that he had always suspected it was. “Can you recharge that quick, vaquero?” she shot back. “If you can, I’m impressed. Maybe we should get a room at the Dusty Rose. What other tricks can you do?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. Instead, she reached for the door handle of her car.

  Sawyer knew he was being given the brush-off and didn’t like it—at all. “Hey,” he said and caught her arm at the elbow. He pulled her back, caught her before she fell on those killer high heels of hers, and planted his lips right on Cassidy’s own.

  He could’ve shoved his tongue down her throat, mauled her like they were in middle school, sitting in a darkened classroom on movie day, but instead he slipped his free hand into her hair, cradling the back of her head, and brushed his lips lightly over hers.

  Cassidy made a soft, breathy, oh-so-feminine noise into his mouth and melted against him.

  Sawyer teased his tongue along her bottom lip but didn’t press any further. In fact, he broke their kiss entirely, set her back on her feet, and cupped her face in both of his hands. “I want to see you again,” he said quietly.

  “I…I…” She looked bewildered, hair mussed, shirt half-buttoned.

  Sawyer had never seen a woman look more gorgeous. “Make time for me, Princess,” he demanded. “I want to see you again.” He turned and left her standing next to her car to think it over.

  He wasn’t certain exactly what had happened tonight, but it was more than a bet and more than a good time in his backseat, both of which would’ve been great on their own, but this was…something else. Sawyer didn’t know what it was, but his whole life he’d been a wrangler, chasing down things that tried to get away, and whatever this was, one thing was certain…

  Cassidy Conroy wasn’t getting away so easily.

  Chapter Six

  ‡

  CASSIDY SLID BEHIND the wheel of her car and sat quietly in the dark, unable to put it all into any kind of perspective. She’d just had the time of her life…in a man’s backseat. Color her shocked that something like that would ever happen. She cringed at the memory of Jesse Cragen ramming away at her in his backseat, taking her virginity while slurring over and over again in her ear about how beautiful she was. He’d finished practically before they’d started, and Cassidy’s sex life had been nothing to crow about ever since.

  Until now.

  Until Sawyer Barlow.

  Backseat or no, he’d just rocked her world, and her hand was shaking just reaching for the Mercedes’s start button. And, yeah, he’d called her Princess, but he’d never said a thing about how she looked. Except to say that it wasn’t any kind of measure of who she was, like maybe it wasn’t all she was.

  And Princess or no, the way he’d held her after, and that kiss in the parking lot…that had been entirely unexpected.

  He’d asked what had gotten into her, and honestly she didn’t know, except that ever since Sawyer came back from the rodeo he seemed to have zeroed in on her for some reason, teasing her relentlessly as though they were on the playground. And she didn’t have to wonder if it was because he was interested. The way he looked at her all the time was proof enough.

  Cassidy had had more than her fair share of guys who were assholes to her because they were too scared to make a move. But she’d never met a man who was both, both snarky and clearly interested, in such a confident, cocky kind of way.

  Part of her hadn’t wanted to give in because she was so confused about him. Plus, she’d half-expected Sawyer to head right back into the Spur and tell everyone about what they’d just done. But he hadn’t. He’d kissed her, like she’d never been kissed before, and then he’d just…left.

  Well, no, she reminded herself. He hadn’t just left. He’d said he wanted to see her again. He’d demanded to see her again. And sure, he just wanted to screw again, but Cassidy was used to men wanting to screw her as much and as often as they could. So as long as it was Sawyer Barlow doing it, and so long as tonight wasn’t some kind of fluke, she was all for seeing him at least one more time.

  She liked the way he looked at her. And the way he said her name. And his hands. And that kiss.

  Not to mention his promise.

  No one had ever made promises to Cassidy, none that they’d kept, anyway. It was odd to think that Sawyer Barlow might be the first, might be the only one. She knew better than to believe him, knew better than to get caught in that trap, but if he could make her feel the way he had tonight, make her beg, make her scream, then he was worth making time for.

  It was the wrong Barlow, but she hardly cared at this point. Walker had never looked at her the way Sawyer did. Both brothers were hot—hell, all the Barlows were smoking—but something about Sawyer and that smirk of his made her want to do what they’d just done over and over again until she’d had her fill of him.

  Although something told her that might take an awful long time.

  She put her Mercedes in gear and pulled out of the lot, headed toward home. The drive wasn’t too far, and since she’d turned twenty-one she’d made it plenty of times. The Silver Spur was about the only thing to do in Star Valley, and though Cassidy never had anything stronger than a club soda, she went every weekend because, she supposed, at this point it was just in her nature to see and be seen.

  And also, she’d admit to herself, it very often felt like now that high school was over, everyone was leaving her behind, moving on with their lives—college, marriage, kids—while Cassidy stoo
d frozen, unable to go back to the simpler times of her teenage years yet unwilling to move forward on the path that had been set out for her. She was stuck, at the ripe old age of twenty-three, and Sawyer Barlow was a welcome distraction from the walls that were closing in on her life.

  She tapped the button for the sunroof, and it rolled back silently, revealing the bright, full moon and the stars sparkling all around it. Cassidy loved driving, despite the accident that took her mother’s life. It was a way to feel close to the woman, she supposed, since Mom spent so much time driving around. Always wanting to get away from Conroy Cattle but never quite being able to.

  Now, at twenty-three, with no prospects other than what Christopher Conroy wanted for her, Cassidy finally understood her mother in a way that she never really had before. If Cassidy herself knew anything more than how to put gas in her Mercedes, she’d pick one of these roads, maybe at random, and just keep driving until she ran out of road. A satisfying dream…but nothing more than that, just a dream.

  Her pulse pounded, and the radio blared, and the wind blew back her long hair. Cassidy couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. She was thrilled by the notion that she’d done exactly what she’d wanted to do—who she wanted to do. Her whole body tingled at the memory of Sawyer’s hands, the sharp angle of his hips, the smooth, firm curve of his ass.

  He’d given her a lot more than her first orgasm. He’d given her freedom, choice, and something else she couldn’t quite name as she remembered the gruff way he’d ordered her to relax and held her down until she did. He’d made their encounter far more intimate than Cassidy was used to. It had been uncomfortable, at first, unfamiliar and a bit scary.

  Sawyer had looked at her while he’d been inside her, not her breasts or her pussy or her mouth. He’d looked at her. And Cassidy wasn’t at all certain that she wanted to be seen.

  Not wanting to deal with her father and her stepmother, either, she drove past her own driveway and toward the Tetons, which couldn’t be seen in the dark, but she could still feel them there, solid and reassuring. Even if she could leave Wyoming, she wasn’t really certain that she wanted to. The mountains and the open sky and the rolling grazing lands that made up the landscape of her home were so much a part of her that it was difficult to imagine leaving them behind. Being away from her family, sure, but not being away from this blanket of stars.