The Texan's One-Night Standoff

by Charlene Sands

  His mouth found hers again, and this time the kiss was hot enough to brand cattle. A fiery mix of passion and lust, making her forget she didn’t kiss strangers like this, on an open dance floor with half the town watching. But Brooks didn’t let up, and she couldn’t pull back or move away. It was that good.

  She played with the curling ends of his hair.

  He slid his hands lower on her back.

  She tucked herself into him.

  He groaned and kissed her harder.

  The music ended and she hardly noticed.

  She stared into his blue eyes.

  He gave her a smile.

  Her body was shaking.

  He was trembling, too.

  “What now?” he rasped. “You want another dance?”

  She shook her head. “I need air.”

  He took her hand and led her off the dance floor and out the door of the C’mon Inn. Clouds shadowed half the full moon, and the bite of December air should’ve cooled her down. But Brooks kept her close to his side, his body shielding her from the cold. Any shivering she was doing was caused by the man beside her and not the dropping winter temperature. He led her around back, where a bench made of iron and wood sat unoccupied near a walled garden. “Would you like to sit?” he asked, and before she could answer, he took a seat and reached for her, giving her the option of where on the bench she wanted to plop down. She chose his lap.

  His satisfied smile was her reward, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re beautiful, Ruby. You probably hear that all the time.” His hand grazed her neck as he held her hair back to nibble on her throat. Then his tongue moistened her skin as he laid out a row of sensual kisses there. Her insides went a little squishy from his tender assault. Whatever this was, it was happening fast. His rock-hard erection pressing against her legs told her he was as turned on as she was.

  “Not really. I tend to scare men off.” By her own choosing, she warded off men’s advances before giving them half a chance. She’d been waiting around for Trace, hoping he’d come back to her, but that hadn’t happened. And now she found pleasure in this man’s arms. She didn’t know a thing about him, other than her instincts said he was a decent man.

  “Little ole you,” he whispered softly before claiming her lips again. The taste of alcohol combined with his confidence was a sweet elixir to her recent loneliness. His mouth pressed hers harder, and the tingles under her skin bumped up another notch. “You didn’t scare me off.”

  “Maybe that’s why I’m here with you.”

  “I like the sound of that.” The rasp in his voice intensified.

  They stopped talking long enough to work up a sweat. Sharp and quick tingles ran up and down her body, and her breaths came in short bursts. She was aware of him at every turn. His well-placed touches made her tremble. His kisses swamped her in heat. Brooks wasn’t far behind. His passion swept her up, and the proof of his desire strained the material of his dark pants. She arched her body in a curving bow, craving more, wanting his hands on her everywhere. Under her cropped shirt, her nipples tightened, and an ache throbbed below her waist.

  Finally Brooks touched her breasts, and the beauty of the sensation purred from her lips. “Oh, yes.”

  Low guttural sounds surfaced from his chest, groans of pleasure and want as his hands moved over her body, palms wide, so he could grasp every inch of her. He flattened her erect nipples, followed the curve of her torso and dipped down lower to her hips. He ran his hands along her legs, up and down her thighs, and from under her jeans she felt the burn on her skin.

  Laughter coming from patrons leaving the inn rang in her ears.

  Brooks stopped and listened.

  The sounds became softer and eventually ceased. Thank goodness those people weren’t coming back here.

  “Ruby, honey. I’m not one for public groping.” He hesitated a second. “I have a room.”

  She bit down on her lower lip, his taste lingering on her mouth. It helped her make the decision. She wasn’t ready for this to end. “Take me there.”

  * * *

  Ruby drove him wild and crazy with want. Yeah, he’d been without a woman for several months, but this woman was more than he’d ever dreamed of. This woman, he couldn’t have even imagined. She was the hottest female he’d met in his life, and she was exactly what he needed to...ah, hell, blow off steam. Her flipping that oaf on his back had been just the beginning. From then on, every word that came out of her mouth, every tempting gesture and coy smile, had been perfect. Brooks had it bad for her. Suggesting taking her to his room had been brash. Insane, really, since he’d known her less than an hour.

  No one messes with Ruby unless she wants to be messed with.

  Apparently he’d made the grade. ’Cause he was messing with her, and had her full approval.

  He scooped her up from the bench, and she automatically wound her arms around his neck as he climbed the outside staircase that led to his room. She was petite and lightweight, and it wasn’t a struggle to carry her up the stairs in his arms. Darkness concealed them for most of the way. Once he slid the key card into the lock and shoved the door open with a hip, he moved inside and set her on her feet. She still clung to him.

  Lord have mercy.

  They were finally alone. Brooks’s deep sense of decorum kicked in big time. He knew what he was dealing with. She wasn’t some floozy who staked men out in a bar. She wasn’t an easy piece who’d consider him another conquest. He could tell that from the warm glow in her eyes now, from the way all the men at the bar respected her, from the way she’d chosen him and not the other way around. For all those reasons, he wasn’t going to take advantage of the situation.

  He brushed a kiss to her lips. “Welcome.”

  As antiquated as the inn was, at least the place was clean. There was no flat-screen television on the wall, no wet bar or cushy king-size bed for added luxury. Nor was there a spacious wardrobe closet or a sunken bathtub or any of the things Brooks was accustomed to. Ruby strolled over to peer out the back window. From where he stood, the view was hardly noteworthy or attractive: just a vast amount of unincorporated land. The lack of illumination was actually a plus since there was nothing to see out there. “I’ve never been inside one of these rooms,” she said.

  “I figured.”

  She whirled around. “You think you’ve got my number, Galahad?”

  “Maybe. I know you don’t do this.”

  Her bright laughter ended with an unfeminine snort. “You’d like to believe that, right?”

  “I do believe it. So, why me?”

  She glanced out the window again, gazing into the darkness. “Maybe I like you. Maybe it’s because you came to my rescue—”

  “Which you didn’t need.”

  She continued, “You came to my rescue with no thought of the danger to your own hide.”

  He took a step toward her. “Are you saying I couldn’t take that guy?”

  “Hold on to your ego. I’m only saying that you’re the one I want to be with tonight. Can’t we leave it at that?”

  He nodded and inclined his head toward the door. “We were about to combust out there. That’s never happened to me before.”

  “So, you’re saying you don’t like losing control and decided to slow down the pace?”

  “What I’m saying is, you deserve better than that.”

  She smiled, and the natural sway of her body as she walked toward him fueled his juices. “There, you see? Things like that are exactly what a girl wants to hear. So, what did you have in mind?”

  Her scent filled him up, and the shimmering sheet of dark, straight hair falling off her shoulders gave him pause—was he crazy to slow things down?

  Her eyes were on him, warm and soft and patient.

  “A drink, for starters?”

  Another survey of the room had her gaze landing on the amber bottle of whiskey he’d brought from Chicago sitting on the bedside table. “Okay.”

  He grabbed tw
o tumblers and poured the whiskey. The very best stuff. He’d figured he would need some fortification before meeting his biological father, but he’d never thought he would entertain a lady with it.

  Standing before her, he offered her a glass. “Here you go.”

  She eyed the golden liquid. “Thanks. What should we drink to?”

  “To unexpected meetings?”

  She smiled. “I’m glad you didn’t say ‘to new beginnings.’”

  He wouldn’t. He wasn’t in the market for a lover or a girlfriend. And apparently, Miss Ruby—he didn’t know her last name—wasn’t looking for a relationship, either. She’d dropped enough hints about that tonight. Somebody must’ve hurt her along the way, but Brooks couldn’t delve too deeply into her past. He wouldn’t want anyone prying into his, and tonight was all about the present, not the past or the future.

  He touched his glass to hers, and a definitive clink sounded in the room. “To unexpected pleasant meetings.”

  She gave him a brief nod and then took a sip, taking time to relish the taste before swallowing. “This is pretty amazing stuff. It surely didn’t come out of any minibar.”

  He was surprised she would notice the quality. “Are you a whiskey expert?”

  “Let’s just say I know good whiskey when I taste it.”

  She took a seat on the bed and continued to sip. He sat beside her, enjoying her quiet company. His heart was still racing, but he was glad he’d toned things down some. She wasn’t a woman to be rushed. And he wanted to savor her tonight, in the same way she was savoring her whiskey.

  “Tell me,” she said, “aren’t you afraid that I’ll come to my senses and walk out on you?”

  “I don’t think you’re a flight risk, Ruby. So, no. But if you think better of this, I would respect your decision. When I make love to you, I want you to be sure and all in.”

  She smiled, and her eyes drifted down to the amber liquid in her glass. “You don’t mince words.”

  “You don’t, either.”

  She nodded, and her soft gaze met his stare. He reached out to touch her face with a sole finger to her cheek. She gasped, and a warm light flickered in her eyes.

  “What do you want, Ruby?”

  “Just a night,” she whispered, breathy and guileless. “With you.”

  He sensed she needed it as much as he did. To have one night with her before his life would change forever.

  Taking the glass from her and setting both of their drinks down on the nightstand, he cupped her face with his hands and gazed into her eyes. “One night, then.”

  “Yes,” she said. “One night.”

  And then he pulled her up to a standing position so they were toe-to-toe, her face lifting to his. He peered into warm, dark eyes giving him approval and then slowly lowered his head, his mouth laying claim to hers.

  Their night together was just beginning.

  Two

  Brooks’s touch was like a jolt of electricity running the course of her body. One touch, one simple finger to her cheek, one slight meshing of his whiskey-flavored lips with hers, was giving her amnesia about the other men in her life. Men who’d trampled on her heart. Men like Trace, who’d taken from her and hadn’t given back. Trace, the man she’d waited for all these months. She squeezed that notion from her mind.

  Her time to wait was over.

  Brooks’s giving and patient mouth didn’t demand. Instead, he encouraged her to partake and enjoy. She liked that about this man. He wasn’t a player of women. No, her gladiator and presumptive keeper of her virtue was a man of honor. He didn’t take. He gave. And that’s exactly why she’d decided to come to his room tonight.

  She placed her trust in him.

  He wasn’t asking her to bare her soul. But she would bare her body. For him.

  Her fingers nimbly played with the tiny white buttons on her blouse until the material slipped from her shoulders, trapping her arms. Cool night air grazed her exposed skin.

  Brooks’s sharp intake of breath reached her ears. “You’re unbelievably beautiful.”

  He worked the sleeves of her blouse down her arms until they gathered at her wrists. He held her there, mercilessly tugging her closer until her bra brushed his torso. “Yeah, I like you in red.” He stroked her hair and then snapped the silky strap of her bra.

  “It’s my color,” she whispered, and he smiled.

  “I won’t disagree.”

  He nipped at her lips then, several times, until his mouth claimed hers again. The kiss swept her into another world, where the only thing that mattered, all that she felt, was the pleasure he was giving. His tongue plunged in and met hers in a sparring match that ignited a fiery inferno within her. Whimpering, she ached for his touch. Finally his fingers dipped inside her bra to caress her nipples. Everything unfolded from there—the pleasure too great, the sighs too loud, the hunger too strong.

  He worked magic with his mouth while his hands found the fastener of her bra. Within seconds, and none too soon, she was free of her blouse and restraints. Her breasts spilled out into his awaiting hands, and the small ache at her core began to pulse as he touched, fondled and caressed her. She was pinned to the spot, unwilling to move, unwilling to take a step, his invisible hold on her body too strong. Her nipples stood erect and tightened to pebble hardness. Aching for more, she leaned way back and was granted the very tip of his tongue dampening her with moisture.

  “Oh, so good, Brooks.”

  His outstretched palms bracing the small of her back, he answered only with a low guttural groan.

  And once he was through ravaging her, he brought her up to eye level, drinking her in from top to bottom. Shaking his head, he fixed his gaze on the full measure of her breasts. She had a large bust for a petite woman and this time she didn’t mind having a man’s eyes transfixed on her. “I can’t believe you,” he muttered. “You’re not real.”

  The compliment went straight to her head.

  Brooks was a city dude, a man who didn’t fit in her world, yet here she was, nearly naked with him and enjoying every sensual second of it.

  “I’m very real,” she breathed, closing the gap between them and lacing her arms around his neck. His erection stood like a stout monument, and there was no missing it. “And I want more.”

  “Whatever the lady wants,” he said, running his hands up and down the sides of her body, his fingertips grazing the sides of her breasts. Another round of heat pinged her as anticipation grew.

  He turned her around, came up behind her and slowly grazed the waistband of her jeans with his hands. His powerful arms locked her in, and his mouth was doing a number on her throat while his long fingers nudged her sweet spot. She murmured her approval, and lights flashed before her eyes. He stroked between her thighs, and a cry ripped from her throat. And then he was pulling the zipper of her jeans down, slowly, torturously, his erection behind her, a thrilling reminder of what was to come.

  “Kick off your boots,” he whispered in her ear.

  Goose bumps erupted on her arms.

  Her legs were a mass of jelly.

  She kicked her boots off obediently, and then his index fingers were inside her waistband, gently lowering the jeans down her legs. She stepped out of them easily. “Red lace panties,” he murmured appreciatively. He cupped one cheek, fitting her left buttock in his palm. He stroked her, smoothing his hand up and over, up and over. “Oh, man,” he muttered, the heat of his body bathing her.

  From where she stood with her back against his chest, she felt his body shudder. Quickly she turned around. The room was dimly lit with a sole lamp, and they were cast in shadow, but there was enough light to see a deep, burning hunger in his eyes.

  “Lie down on the bed,” he told her.

  Her heart was pounding like a drum, beating hard, beating fast. He was a man who took control. She wasn’t one to obey so easily, but there was a look in his eyes telling her to trust him. She did as she was told and lay on the queen bed, naked but for the panties
she wore.

  His gaze roamed over her body, slowly, the gleam in his eyes filled with promise.

  “Galahad?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Having second thoughts?”

  He laughed at her, giving his head a shake. “Are you kidding me? You have no idea...”

  “What?”

  “...how turned on I am. I’m trying to keep from jumping your bones, Ruby.”

  She glanced at the flagpole erection bulging in his pants. “What if I want you to jump my bones? Isn’t that why we’re here?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut. “Yeah, but... I want this night to last.”

  She rolled to the side and leaned on her elbow. His eyes sought the spill of her hair touching her breasts. “Come to bed, Brooks. I’m a big girl. I can take whatever you have in mind.”

  “Doubtful, honey. What I’m thinking...”

  She grabbed his hand and tugged. He landed on his butt in an upright position on the bed. “Do it, Brooks. But first take off your clothes.”

  He grinned. “How did I get so lucky?”

  “Judging by the cut of your cloth, you were probably born lucky.” She was guessing.

  He grunted. And that was all the reply he gave her.

  Sitting up on her knees, she helped him lift his shirt over his head and pull off his boots between kisses. Her hands sought his chest, all powerful and rippled with muscle, smooth and hard, like the planes of a solid board. She reveled in touching him, her fingertips toying with his flattened nipples.

  That move landed her on her back, her arms locked by one strong hand above her head. “Two can tease,” he said.

  And then he was pulling her panties down and touching her where she’d prayed he’d touch. Her body instantly responded, and soft moans rose from her throat. She undulated with each stroke of his hand, each caress of a fingertip. He kept her pinned down, covering her with his body, the soft flesh of his palm applying pressure at the apex of her thighs.