Games of the Heart

by Kristen Ashley

  “Then we should get going.”

  She didn’t move or let him go.

  Instead she called, “Mike?”

  He slid his hand back to her jaw and answered, “Yeah?”

  “Sure you’re easy?”

  He held her eyes and whispered, “Yeah.”

  “You see me giving up a lot. But I don’t think you get what I’m gaining.”

  “I get it.”

  “Then I’m not sure you understand how much it means to me.”

  He pulled in breath and that burn in his chest came back.

  “Well if I didn’t,” his eyes tipped out the window at the darkening horizon then they came back to her, “now I do.”

  She held his gaze.

  Then she smiled.

  Then she whispered on an arm squeeze, “Good.”

  Then she rolled up on her toes, kissed him quickly, let him go and they got in their rental SUV and drove to Schub’s.

  * * * * *

  “You want, I can find you a leather strap and you can bite down on it. Won’t ease the pain but it’ll mean you won’t scream.”

  That was Rivera giving Texas advice for sitting at a Saloon and Hoedown watching your woman getting whipped around by a mechanical bull for the third time.

  Yes, the third time.

  Clearly, she’d done it often but had not got any better at it. Mike knew this because two seconds after Rivera’s offer, off Dusty flew to land in a pit of sawdust covered foam rubber.

  She jumped to her feet, hair flying, sawdust drifting, body unsteady as she tried to balance on the foam rubber. Once steady, she threw her hands in the air and screeched, “Giddyup!”

  The crowd went wild.

  Yes, for the third time.

  “Jesus,” Mike muttered.

  “Payback,” Rivera muttered back and Mike tore his gaze from his woman brushing off flakes of sawdust to the handsome, half-Mexican-American, half-WASP man sitting with him at the table and smiling a big white smile.

  “Pardon?”

  “You laid her out,” Rivera reminded him. “Now, I coulda called and warned you that Schub’s was not the place to be…” he hesitated, “ever with Jerra and Dusty. We coulda gone to Del Rio Cantina. Best Mexican food outside of Mexico. Quiet until the mariachi band starts roaming. And although the tequila and lime juice flows and those two women get loud, there’s no mechanical bull to climb on and there’s no DJ to beg to play ‘Achy-Breaky Heart’.”

  “Fuck,” Mike muttered, not looking forward to that part of the evening.

  “Yeah. They love that song though they start it dancing and end it hanging on each other giggling. Then they sit at the table and talk for an hour about how the mullet is a male hairstyle that’s underappreciated.”

  “Christ.” Mike was still muttering.

  “Don’t worry, I think they’re jokin’,” Rivera assured him.

  Fuck, he hoped so.

  “So, to sum up,” Hunter went on. “You’re here as payback. I think this is painful enough you’ll never do the dirt on Dusty again.”

  Mike’s eyes drifted to the mechanical bull to see Jerra climbing on it with Dusty on the sidelines jumping up and down, clapping, shouting and more bits of sawdust that she hadn’t swiped off drifting from her clothes and hair.

  Mike’s eyes went back to Rivera. “I’m not certain the punishment fits the crime.”

  Rivera threw his head back and laughed.

  Mike did not. He watched Jerra and the bull start up then, ten seconds later, he watched the bull throw wide a giggling herself sick Jerra.

  Still chuckling and clearly immune to this nightmare due to constant exposure, Rivera belatedly replied, “Bro, I think I gotta agree.”

  Mike’s eyes slid to his woman and he saw two cowboys encouraging her to have another go. He also knew why they were. Tee tight across her tits and her ass looked way too fucking good in those jeans.

  Therefore, he lost his patience.

  So he put his fingers to his mouth, whistled loud and sharp then took them out and immediately shouted, “Yo, Dusty!”

  Her eyes shot to his.

  He shook his head then he lifted his hand and crooked a finger at her.

  If she didn’t haul her ass immediately back to the table, Mike was prepared to stalk her way, remove her from the clutch of cowboys she’d been entertaining the last fifteen minutes, throw her over his shoulder and take her back. Luckily, she did some head shaking, some “I’m sorry” smiling, grabbed Jerra’s hand and headed their way.

  As for the night, the good news was, Schub’s barbeque was the best he’d ever tasted, hands down. The beer was chilled so cold it was nearly icy and went down smooth. Rivera was just as likeable in person as he was over the phone. Jerra was petite, brunette and had some meat on her in all the right places. She was also a fucking nut.

  She and Dusty graduated quickly from beer sipping to tequila shooters then the night went bad.

  “Seriously, Mike, no joke. You Indiana boys got it goin’ on,” Rivera stated, a smile in his voice and Mike just barely was able to tear his eyes from Dusty making her way through cowboys and cowgirls at the very crowded restaurant/saloon/“hoedown” to their table to look at him. “I whistled and crooked my finger at Jerra, her head would split open and fire would shoot out. How do you do it?”

  “We keep that secret in Indiana. I’d be lynched if I shared,” Mike replied.

  Rivera grinned. Then his eyes shifted over Mike’s shoulder and the grin died a very quick death.

  Mike looked over his shoulder, saw nothing but cowboys, cowgirls, rough wood paneling, tables and ropes, saddles, bridles and various cattle equipment on the walls but he heard Rivera muttering, “Fuck. Beau.”

  Mike’s scan took on focus and there he was. Mike recognized him from the one time he’d seen his picture on the display of Dusty’s phone. Again wearing what was clearly his uniform, pearl snap button jeans shirt and faded jeans. Dark hair. Tall. Lean. Good-looking. Eyes narrowed on Dusty.

  Mike moved instantly. This was because LeBrec was closer to Dusty than Dusty was to the table. This was also because LeBrec’s intent was clear in his narrowed eyes.

  He knifed from his chair, felt and heard Rivera move with him and he prowled toward LeBrec the instant LeBrec started stalking toward Dusty.

  Unfortunately, the place was packed and Mike couldn’t toss people out of his way. Also unfortunately, Dusty and Jerra were giggling about something therefore they didn’t notice the threat approaching. LeBrec made it to them before Mike and Rivera were even close.

  But it was then LeBrec made an even bigger mistake than he’d already made by simply approaching Dusty.

  Jerra saw him first and even though she was at least two inches shorter than Dusty and thus seven inches shorter than LeBrec, she positioned herself between him and Dusty. The instant she did, he put a hand on her and shoved her out of the way.

  And he didn’t do this gently.

  She went flying into the back of a cowboy who clearly had better manners than LeBrec because he twisted quickly and caught Jerra before she landed on her ass.

  But Mike learned in that instant that you absolutely did not, under any circumstances, and especially these, put your hand on and shove the wife of an easygoing, laidback, quick-to-laugh half-Mexican-American man, that wife also being the mother of his children.

  “Yo! What the fuck?” Mike heard thundered from behind him. Then Rivera had passed Mike and was clearing the way, shouldering past folks who were quickly feeling the vibe so suddenly Rivera found his way was clear.

  It was then Mike noted that he had a different situation on his hands and that was keeping a good man and loving husband, who also happened to be a cop, from doing something that might get him reprimanded or, from the look on Rivera’s face, losing his badge.

  Mike was six foot one. Rivera couldn’t be taller than five ten. Therefore, Mike used his long leg span to get him to a LeBrec who was so focused on Dusty he didn’t feel t
he threat coming at his flank.

  Mike got to him first, grabbed a wrist, slammed his knee into the back of LeBrec’s and, not expecting it, LeBrec instantly went down to both while Mike twisted his wrist behind his back. Moving so swiftly LeBrec didn’t have a chance to begin to defend himself, Mike grabbed his other wrist and yanked it behind his back, pulling both up so LeBrec’s torso was forced toward the floor. Then Mike bent at the waist and got close.

  “Advice, asshole, keep your shit,” Mike growled in his ear. “I am not happy you won’t clue in about Dusty but you just put your hand on Rivera’s woman and now you got on your hands a man who’s seriously not happy.”

  LeBrec twisted his neck, caught Mike’s eyes, his narrowed as his face went hard but Rivera was there.

  “Look at me!” he barked and when LeBrec didn’t, Rivera bent at the waist and roared in his ear, “Jackass! Look at me!”

  Mike kept him pinned on his knees but LeBrec’s head twisted around.

  “Give me a reason,” Rivera growled.

  “Hunter, take a breath and stand down,” Mike advised.

  Without taking his eyes from LeBrec, Rivera ordered, “Let him go, Mike.”

  Mike’s hold tightened because LeBrec’s body jerked and his head twisted around quickly so he could scowl at Mike.

  “Mike. Fuck. Fuck!” he clipped Mike’s way.

  He might have intended to say more but he didn’t get a chance. Rivera reached out and grabbed his jaw, forcing his face around.

  Mike clenched his teeth.

  “I didn’t tell you that you could quit lookin’ at me,” Rivera ground out, nose-to-nose with LeBrec.

  “Hunter, he is not worth the flak you’ll catch,” Mike warned.

  Rivera ignored Mike and whispered to LeBrec, “You put your hand on my woman.”

  Jerra sidled close, saying softly, “Hunter, honey –”

  Rivera kept speaking, eyes never leaving LeBrec, “You never put a hand to any woman like that and definitely not my fuckin’ woman.”

  “I was tryin’ to get to Dusty,” LeBrec spat, jerking his jaw from the hold Rivera still had on him.

  “And that’s just as fucked,” Rivera shot back, still in his face and not moving. “She don’t want you. She kicked your ass out months ago. You, yourself told the whole town the reason when you called her while she was bein’ banged by her new man and then you spread that shit around like the fuckwad you are. Now you’ve explained that reason more by walkin’ in here, not thinkin’ smart, actin’ like an asshole, he came down on you and got you to your knees and you didn’t have time to lift a finger. What woman wants a man like you who’s not even half a man when she can have one who’s all man?”

  LeBrec belatedly fought against Mike’s grip but Mike held firm and yanked up so LeBrec was forced to stop moving in order to limit the pain.

  LeBrec threw a glare over his shoulder at Mike then turned his head back to Rivera.

  “Fuck you, Hunter,” he hissed.

  “If you wanna get fucked in the next decade, you’ll stop actin’ like a pussy-whipped, jackass remindin’ people you got dumped and givin’ them reason to understand why, then you better smarten up and move the fuck on,” Rivera fired back. “You don’t, tonight, you puttin’ your hand on my woman, you bought yourself a world of hurt. I’m your shadow, asshole. You scratch your ass, I’ll know it. You take a piss, I’ll know it. You con some idiot woman into takin’ your cock, I’ll know it.” His face got close to LeBrec’s. “You even fuckin’ sneeze, I’ll know it. And any ‘a that shit I don’t like, I’ll find a way to make your life a misery. You even jaywalk in this town, you’re in the tank. I hear you drove by Dusty’s house, called her states away, I’ll arrest you for harassment. Don’t try me and don’t tempt me. No man puts his hand on my woman and nearly takes her to her ass without retribution. I was a man who just thought you were a douchebag. Now I’m a man you can count as your enemy.”

  Rivera was serious and Mike saw LeBrec didn’t miss it. Although he kept up the glower, his face had paled and he’d stopped straining against Mike’s hold.

  “Now we got your attention,” Rivera went on, moving back three inches, “let’s get some things straight. Is Dusty Holliday ever gonna hear from you or see you again?”

  LeBrec’s eyes went up to a frozen and staring Dusty then back to Rivera.

  “No,” he bit out.

  “Good,” Rivera replied, sounding like he was talking to a dog he was training. “Now, are you ever, ever gonna put your hand on any woman when it is not wanted or requested?”

  “No,” LeBrec clipped.

  “Right,” Rivera went on, “Now, Mike here lets you go, you gonna get up, walk your ass outta here and think about your actions? Or are you gonna do somethin’ stupid which means I’ll have to arrest you?”

  “Walk out,” LeBrec snapped.

  “Good,” Rivera stated. “Now Mike’s gonna let you go slow-like and you’re gonna do that. You with me?”

  “I’m with you, asshole,” LeBrec muttered, holding Rivera’s eyes, his seething.

  “Good, here we go now,” Rivera said, now speaking as if he was talking to a child. He straightened, looked at Mike and, nodding once, took a step back.

  Mike let him go and also stepped back.

  Quickly, LeBrec found his feet.

  Then he found his bluster.

  Eyes on Dusty he bit out, “Don’t know what I was thinkin’. You weren’t worth the effort.”

  Dusty crossed her arms on her chest and rolled her eyes the picture, top to toe, of a woman who was worth any effort.

  Mike grinned.

  Yep, that was his woman.

  LeBrec looked to Mike and offered snidely, “You can have her.”

  “That’s good since I already do,” Mike replied affably, still grinning.

  LeBrec glared at him. Then his eyes took in the cowboys and cowgirls around him and it hit him he was the center of attention in a headline act. Realizing that, his gaze hit his boots and his boots moved across the floor.

  Mike watched him go, turning to do it. Few men could endure that humiliation and not learn their lesson. Then again, there were some that such an event would fuel their fire. He wasn’t giving that asshole his back.

  LeBrec was swallowed up in a sea of cowboys and cowgirls as Mike smelled Dusty’s perfume close then felt her body closer. He felt this because it was pressed to his side.

  He turned his head and looked down at her.

  She rolled up on her toes and put one hand to his abs, the thumb of the other hand she hooked in the back belt loop of his jeans.

  And close to his ear, she whispered, “That was so hot, that just bought you dirty.” His neck twisted further to catch her eyes and when he did, she pressed her tits tight against his arm and kept whispering, “Filthy.”

  Looking into her eyes, feeling her pressed close, reading her face, Mike decided it was time to call it a night.

  * * * * *

  “Couch, spread,” Mike growled, watched Dusty’s eyes flare then she detached from him and did as he asked.

  She was true to her promise. They were back from Schub’s for a second and she’d pounced. Now, at his demand, he was still fully clothed and she was buck naked. Keeping her standing with Dusty allowed to do nothing but hold on, he’d played with her.

  Now he was ready to move it along.

  She didn’t waste time getting on the couch and doing what he asked, back to the armrest, eyes hot on him, one leg she threw over the back of the couch, the other foot she put on the floor.

  She didn’t delay. Seeing her spread herself on the couch for him like that, Mike didn’t either. He joined her, mouth between her legs.

  His woman liked his mouth. He knew this because she didn’t hide it. She also was so far gone at that moment, he barely engaged his tongue before she started making the noises she made right before she’d come. It was part tequila, part what happened with LeBrec and part him bossing when they got home. She bitched
about his bossing but she loved it.

  He knew this because he could taste it.

  She was so hot, so agitated, so close, in no time she took Mike to the same place just by hearing her noises and feeling her move. But he wanted that around his dick. No way Dusty could fake an orgasm with him, not that he’d give her reason. But he knew when she came because her pussy clenched and spasmed around his dick. He’d give her that with his mouth and he had.

  He just wasn’t going to now.

  He lifted up and grasped her hips, yanking her under him.

  His hands went to his belt. Her hands went to the buttons of his shirt.

  “Want your skin,” she breathed.

  He let her do what she wanted. He was busy.

  By the time he freed himself, she got his buttons undone and spread his shirt. He covered her with his body and drove inside. Then he watched as her neck arched back, her lips parted and fuck, fuck, he’d been wrong earlier. She was never more beautiful than the first instant she took him inside. She loved it; it washed over her features and every time he saw it he was certain he’d come early. He didn’t because he knew the rest of the show was nearly as spectacular.

  He drove in and drew out, riding her hard and her arms circled his shoulders.

  “Knees high,” he grunted and she acquiesced immediately, tipping her chin down and giving him her eyes.

  “Nothing feels better than you,” she whispered.

  Fuck. He liked that.

  Mike held her eyes and kept thrusting but doing it harder.

  “Nothing, baby,” she breathed, her thighs clasped tight at his sides, her arms tensed and she gave it to him. Her pussy clenched and spasmed around his dick.

  Mike drove in faster, harder, her body jolting, he shoved a hand under her, wrapping his arm around the top of her hips and yanking her down as he powered up.

  She lifted her head, shoved her face in his neck and, still coming, gasped, “That’s it, baby, fuck me.”

  He did as she asked.

  Then he plunged his fingers in her hair, fisted, positioned her head for her mouth to take his and his groan drove down her throat as he buried his dick inside her and came.

  Each time, it was phenomenal. Each time, he knew the next could never top it.