Texas Men

by Delilah Devlin

  Only when they were both gasping hard did he ease off, tugging her bottom lip between his teeth before lifting his head.

  One brow arched high. Her deep blue eyes glinted beneath her half-open lids as if to say, “That all you got?”

  Before she could put to words whatever grating comment she was about to make, he reached behind her, unclasped her bra, and then slid his hands around her to cup her full breasts, rubbing his calloused thumbs over the distended nipples.

  Another gasp, this one more agonized, gusted against his face. He ducked his head and hid his smile against her neck as he glided his lips along her silky skin and pulled the bra down her arms. “While I’m feeling them up a bit, I slide my hands right down their bodies, just to see how far they’ll let me go. If I meet the least resistance, I move right back up to their breasts and play a little while longer.”

  Feeling surer of himself, he squeezed her breasts and then slid a hand down her taut belly and slipped his fingers just inside the waistband of her low-riding jeans.

  Soft curls tangled around his fingertips, and he dragged at them, sliding deeper until his middle finger entered her moist slit, reaching just far enough to slide over the top of her sex.

  “I don’t open their pants right away,” he whispered. “I wait until they beg me to.”

  With one hand cupping her firm ass, he rubbed her clitoris up and down until she sucked in a deep breath to give him greater access.

  This was what he gave those other women. Temptation by increments. Teasing thrusts and caresses that swept away any inhibitions or reluctance to let him lead them anywhere he wanted. So Tara hadn’t said out loud what she wanted, but her jagged sighs and trembling belly told him everything he needed to know.

  He pressed his body closer, forcing her to shuffle backward until her knees met the edge of the mattress. Pulling his hand from inside her pants, he shoved her gently, forcing her to fall to the bed, and climbed on top of her.

  Holding her gaze while her cheeks flushed red, he clasped her hands and lifted them above her head while he leaned down and fluttered his tongue against the rigid tip of one nipple. Then he changed breasts and did the same again.

  When his head came up, he caught her gaze. “Seeing as how your belly is already shivering, I might forgo playing with your tits a little longer and just slide on down.”

  Tara’s slitted gaze blinked once. “Whatever it is you usually do…I want it.”

  He pressed her hands into the mattress. “You can’t touch me. Keep them here or grab a fistful of your comforter, but don’t touch me.”

  He climbed backward off the bed and turned around to straddle one leg as he lifted it and pulled her boot off her foot and slid down her thin sock. Then he stepped forward until the curve of the top of her foot was snuggled against his balls. “I like how soft a woman is, even her feet.” His hands wrapped around her slender foot and massaged, kneading the bottom of her foot and heel, tugging at her toes and then sliding her foot against his groin again.

  When her ankle gave a sharp tug, and he felt a quiver work its way up her calf, he dropped her foot and straddled the other leg. He made quick work of stripping her foot and then turned and knelt, caressing her all the while, pulling, kneading, separating the toes, and then leaning forward to suck her big toe into his mouth.

  She jerked her foot back, but he didn’t let her go.

  “Stop that,” she said, inhaling sharply.

  He licked the pad of her big toe. “Why? Does it tickle?” he asked innocently.

  “No, but it’s weird. And I’ve been in those boots a while.”

  He lapped at her curved instep. “You have pretty feet.”

  Her nose wrinkled. “Feet aren’t an erogenous zone unless you have some weird fetish.”

  “No fetish. But a woman should have every part of her body explored. That way, a man doesn’t miss something special.”

  “You do this with every woman?” she asked, her tone as disbelieving as her raised brows.

  “You wonderin’ why I never sucked your toes?”

  She didn’t answer, but her stillness told him she wanted one. He sighed and dropped her foot, reaching immediately for the button at the waistband of her jeans—just so he’d have an excuse not to meet her gaze. “Because I figure I’ll never be anyone’s one and only, I’ll settle for being the best she’s ever had. I like finding the kinks she never knew could set her off.”

  Tara’s eyes darkened. “That’s the sum total of what you expect when you make love to a woman? That she remember you?”

  He shrugged and plucked at the tab of her zipper at the top of her jeans, scraping it down slowly, one tooth at a time.

  Her belly jumped, and her thighs tightened around his hips. “You still haven’t said why you never did that…with me,” she said, her voice growing strained.

  “Didn’t think I had to,” he growled. “We pleasure each other. I’ve never had to strategize. It just happens. Makes it special.”

  As her pants eased open, he bent to kiss the soft white skin he exposed. He wrapped his fingers around her waistband and tugged.

  She lifted her hips to help him, and he pulled them and her underwear slowly down her long legs, sliding kisses all the way to her curled toes.

  When he had them off, he tossed the jeans over his shoulder and grasped her thighs, easing them open. One glance, and he could tell she was deeply aroused. Moisture glazed her plump outer folds.

  A satisfied smile stretched his lips. His fingers tightened on her as he fought the urge to dive between her legs and end the torture now. His glance flicked up to her face.

  Another swallow worked her straining throat as she lifted her head to watch him. “While you’re pleasuring these women,” she said softly, “what do you feel? Don’t you get frustrated?”

  “Are you asking if I get hard?” At her nod, he shrugged and caressed the back of her knee. “’Course I do. But not so bad I can’t make myself wait. I’m not a boy.”

  “When you’re with me,” she said, pausing to take a shallow, rasping gulp of air, “it feels like you can’t wait to take another breath before you’re inside me.”

  Cody’s body tightened, anger once again fueling rebellion inside him. “Like I said, you’re special. Didn’t think I had to play these games. Didn’t think I had to hold a thing back.”

  “Damnit, Cody.” Her eyes slid closed. “Is it too late for me to change my mind?”

  4

  Cody smoothed his hands up the insides of Tara’s thighs, and his thumbs glided right over her outer folds, rubbing them and then opening the sparsely furred lips. His head lowered toward her cunt, her spicy aroma working on his cock, creating an urgency he’d pay hell to hide if he had to pretend he could be patient with her a second longer.

  Her hand slid down to cover herself, denying him access. “I said I’ve changed my mind. I’d just as soon get down to business.”

  Cody stroked her fingers with his tongue, sliding between them to touch her slippery, wet sex. “Who says you’re in charge here?”

  Her legs clasped him tighter as she tried to close them. Both her hands tucked between her legs, and her back arched as she tried to escape him. “Uncle, already,” she said with a short, forced laugh.

  Cody wasn’t having any of it. She’d tried to change things between them. She’d tipped her chin skyward and led him around like she had a right to be angry with his behavior. She didn’t own him. He hadn’t made any promises, but maybe it was time to lay down a few rules now.

  He sank his hands beneath her and cupped her ass, sliding fingers along her crevice—just to make sure he had her undivided attention. “Tell me, Tara. What were you thinking when you laid down all that money?”

  “I wasn’t thinkin’ at all,” she gasped.

  “Were you pissed because I kissed a few women?” he asked silkily, one finger sliding over her small, puckered hole.

  Her body jerked. “’Course not, cowboy,” she bit out. “Never e
ven raised an eyebrow. A kiss is just your way of sayin’ hello.”

  “Did your blood pressure rise when all those women swarmed me like honeybees around a hive?”

  “They didn’t have any better sense.”

  “Did you think I should have pushed them away?”

  “Not my business what you do.”

  Cody dipped the end of his index finger into her ass, ignoring her sharp gasp. “Was it the kiss I blew at you? Seemed like your face screwed up into a scowl when I did that.”

  Tara’s whole body shuddered, and her legs came over his shoulders, her heels digging into his back as she arched. “What the hell were you thinking?” she replied in an angry rush. “Kissing at me when all you were tryin’ to do was get the crowd goin’? Why’d you have to bring me into it? First that kiss in the parking lot and then you singling me out like that—did you want everyone I know to think we have something goin’ on?”

  His finger thrust deeper, and her buttocks tensed and then began to undulate in shallow waves as he twisted inside her. “I asked before, are you ashamed of wanting me? Ashamed of fucking me?”

  Her breaths gusted, edged by soft, shattered moans as she ground her heels harder to move her buttocks up and down. “I’m old enough…been around long enough…I should know better than to expect anything at all from you.”

  Her hands fell away from her pussy, and Cody accepted her invitation, diving to slide his tongue between her folds and lap at silky flesh coated with salty cream.

  His cock jerked, and a groan rumbled through his throat. Tara’s taste and texture, the simple act of surrender, were all it took to steal his mind.

  “Everyone knows you’re not the stayin’ kind,” Tara whispered. “I don’t want them shakin’ their heads…and thinkin’ I’m so lonely…so pathetic that I have to resort to sleeping with you to fill the void.”

  Cody’s body grew still. He was a last resort?

  Hot, fierce anger singed his veins, bulking out the muscles flexing across his shoulders and down his arms while he did his best to control the urge to fly at her, to cover her and thrust his cock so deep she couldn’t deny to a single soul that his cock belonged inside her.

  That sharp need caught him by surprise, sucking the air right out of his lungs. He didn’t belong inside her. He’d never have a place in her life. And she didn’t have a single claim on him.

  The last thing she’d want was him hanging his hat on the rack beside the door. She didn’t need him. That chilling certainty doused the arousal that pumped through his body.

  And because he’d always played fair, and because he’d never given more than he could stand to lose, he drew back and pulled away his hands, lowering her ass to the bed.

  Her eyes flew open.

  “Guess you’re not happy with our little arrangement anymore. I’ll see your money’s returned.”

  Tara lay with her legs splayed, her hands outswept to clutch the bedding, too shocked for a few seconds to react.

  While Cody walked jerkily to the end of the bed and slowly began to pull on his clothes, she blinked, her eyes slowly filling. Which never happened.

  She wasn’t a crybaby. Had never resorted to tears to hold on to a man. Had never even attempted to keep someone hell-bent on leaving.

  Truth was, she’d never felt deeply enough about anyone to care when a relationship fizzled. Which cost her long moments while she searched inside herself to wonder why she cared now.

  Cody wasn’t a keeper. She’d known that from the start. She’d even planned on telling him things were over after they’d enjoyed themselves one last time.

  She hadn’t thought he’d care, other than losing the convenience of a willing body. But something in his expression told her there was more going on here than she understood.

  By the deep flex of his jaw, he wasn’t gonna talk about it but expected her to complain. Something told her that would be the wrong thing to do—act like she cared he’d left her on the edge. Let him know he’d hurt her by withdrawing so abruptly.

  Instead she slowly sat up and combed her hair back with a casual swipe of her hand. “I’ll have to take you back to town,” she said, her tone carefully devoid of emotion.

  “I can make my own way back.”

  “That’s silly. Why don’t you take a shower? I’ll feed you and then take you back in my truck.”

  His hands paused as he buckled his belt. His gaze came up, his brows lowered, pausing on her for a long moment as if trying to read her mind.

  She forced a slight smile. “We’re missing that dinner. Least you can do is keep me company while I rustle up something from the fridge.”

  His nod was slow in coming, but she let out the breath she’d been holding and then got up off the bed and went into the bathroom.

  One glance at her own reflection, and she wondered how she’d ever fooled him. Her face was unusually pale. Lines bracketed her mouth from the tension gripping her. Her haunted eyes gave away the deep emotions swirling inside. Hurt made them shimmer.

  She twisted the taps, splashed cool water on her face, and then reached for the yellow robe hanging from a hook at the back of the door before easing out of the bathroom. “It’s all yours,” she said. “Don’t be long.”

  As he passed her, his gaze not meeting hers, her heart thudded dully inside her. What was it about him that made her care? Sure, he was the best-looking man she’d ever seen. The best lover she’d ever known. But he was promiscuous, flirting with every woman he met regardless of her age or looks. The fact he’d added her to his conquests should have been an insult because it wasn’t a measure of her attractiveness—just her willingness to be used.

  So what the hell had just happened? She’d dared to call him to accounts, and he’d felt what? Smothered? Was she all of a sudden no longer convenient because she’d dared to question him?

  She tightened the tie around her waist with a vicious jerk and stomped toward the kitchen, her Irish temper rising so hot and swift she felt suffocated.

  She slammed open the refrigerator door and stared at the contents, not really ready to weigh whether she should quickly defrost a couple steaks or fry some eggs. Who the hell did he think he was, anyway?

  Her gaze went to the darkened backyard, a delightfully sinful thought forming in her mind. It was a fenced backyard, where she’d kept her best friend until he’d passed away. The heavy chain she’d used to hold the rottweiler while workers swarmed her roof last year still sat in a coiled pile beside his doghouse.

  Cody seemed mighty determined not to talk about what ate him. Seemed ready to throw her over because she’d pricked his easy, shallow charm.

  She deserved answers before she cut him loose, and she damn sure deserved some pleasure for the inconvenient lust he’d stirred in her tonight.

  Cody Westhofen might be the best she’d ever had, but by the time this night was over, he’d know she was a goddamn sex goddess. She’d leave him reeling, wondering what lust train had hit him!

  Cody stepped out of the shower, unsatisfied with the quick wash he’d given his skin. He still felt dirty, ashamed of how callously he’d handled Tara.

  He’d taken a cold shower, needing to ease his lust and his anger. Not until his thoughts had slowed did he admit he’d made a mistake. Self-preservation had made him turn like a cornered animal to strike out.

  He’d left her confused, helplessly aroused. He’d pulled away because he’d felt afraid of the feelings she stirred inside him. She didn’t deserve any of this.

  A sound like a dull clink came from the bedroom, pulling his attention from his depressing thoughts, and he wondered if she waited for him there.

  He didn’t want to face her and instead dug into her drawers for the package of feminine razors he’d used before, filled the sink with steaming water, and used a bar of sweetly scented soap to work up a lather. He took his time shaving, hoping she’d be gone from the room by the time he’d finished, that she’d be dressed and ready to kick his ass to the door. />
  The last thing he wanted to do was sit across a table from her and hold a conversation like nothing had ever happened. What the hell could he say? Sorry I hurt you? Sorry I’m such a coward I can’t make love to you because I’m afraid I won’t have the strength to walk away afterward?

  The razor nipped his neck, and he winced as the cut filled with stinging soap.

  Done, he swiped at his face with a towel and then pressed toilet paper to the cut until the bleeding slowed. He dressed wishing he’d thought to bring a shirt along. Standing half dressed in front of a whole room of women hadn’t made him feel as naked as facing Tara without a little cotton armor.

  After several more seconds standing at the door while he girded his loins, he slowly opened it. The bedroom was darkened. Music, Tejano happy, filtered through the door leading down the hallway. Just like every other time they’d finished a night of lovemaking. Some of his tension eased.

  “Cody?”

  He jerked, his gaze whipping toward the bed. She stood in the shadows on the far side of the bed. “I dropped something behind the headboard. Could you help me reach it?”

  “Sure,” he muttered and strode toward her. “Why don’t you get the light?”

  “All right,” she said softly, standing aside as he eased to his knees and reached down to slide the mattress back toward the foot of the bed so he could fit his hand inside the narrow space.

  Only, she didn’t move away. Her body pressed closer to his back, and he dragged in a deep breath, loving the way her scent surrounded him and her warm skin heated his own.

  He closed his eyes briefly. “That light?” he ground out.

  “Sure,” she said, straightening…but only slightly. Something cold encircled his wrist, followed by a metallic click.

  He tugged back his arm but could bring it back only a few inches. He felt with his free hand to confirm she’d manacled his wrist. “Tara,” he said softly, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”