Texas Fever

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Texas Fever Page 3

by Kimberly Raye


  Right beneath getting inside the hot, sexy woman stretched out on the bed.

  He snatched up his jeans and retrieved a condom from his pocket. After sliding on the latex, he settled between her legs. Bracing himself, he shoved his penis deep into her wet heat in one swift thrust that stalled the air in his lungs.

  He gripped her lush hips, his tanned fingers digging into her pale flesh as he plunged into her again. She closed her eyes, lifted her hips and met each thrust until he couldn’t take it anymore. His cock throbbed and filled and he was right there. Just a few more movements and he was going to explode….

  And she wasn’t.

  She wasn’t nearly as tense, her body wasn’t strung as tight as it should have been if she were teetering on the edge.

  All the better. If she didn’t have an explosive orgasm, it would surely sour the evening and push him right back down to the nothing-special category when it came to men.

  He thrust again and again. The pressure built and pleasure fogged his brain and before he could stop himself, he reached down between them and parted her flesh just above the point where he filled her. He caught her swollen clitoris between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed lightly.

  She moaned and her body convulsed around him and he knew she’d tumbled over the edge. He buried himself deep one last time and followed. He held her tight and relished the way her inner muscles milked him.

  Finally, his hold loosened and he collapsed onto his back. He reached for her, tucking her against his body.

  He needed to get up and get dressed. He had an early day waiting for him. He was riding fence first thing in the morning before he moved two hundred new head of cattle into the west pasture. But damned if he could breathe, much less move, and so he closed his eyes. Just for a few minutes. Then he would haul himself up, pull on his clothes and say goodbye.

  AN HOUR LATER Josh forced his eyes open just in time to see Holly stand and slide on her panties. He folded his arms behind his head and watched as she bent over to search through the covers they’d kicked off for the rest of her clothes.

  She was just pulling on her top when she noticed that he was watching her.She smiled. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  He winked. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “It’s just that I really need to get going. I’ve got a long drive ahead of me.”

  “You’re going all the way back to Houston tonight?”

  She nodded and finished with the last button before perching on the edge of the bed to pull on her skirt. “I run my own business and I’ve got a ton of things to do first thing in the morning.” She stood and reached for her purse. “Maybe we could have dinner some time. Whenever you’re available. I know you’re probably busy with horses or cattle or whatever you do.”

  “Actually, I do both. For now. My grandfather passed away about six months ago and I’ve been running my family’s ranch since then. But that’s just temporary until my brother comes home in a few weeks. Then I’m headed back to Arizona. I run a small charter business.”

  “I thought you were a cowboy.”

  “Professionally, I’m a pilot.”

  “But you look like a cowboy.”

  “Cowboying isn’t something you do, cupcake. It’s the way you think.” He winked. “I’ll always be a cowboy. I just like climbing into the cockpit of a Cessna more than I like climbing into a saddle.”

  Disappointment filled her gaze and Josh barely ignored the urge to pull her into his arms.

  “But you look like a cowboy,” she stated again, as if she had to say it twice for the words to really sink in. “I’m sorry. I thought…” She shook her head. “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime then.”

  “I doubt that. I don’t get down to Houston too often. Austin’s closer, so I do most of the ranch business there.”

  “I’m talking about here. In town. I live here now.”

  He sat up. “What did you say?”

  “As of three o’clock this afternoon, I own the Farraday Inn—my grandmother left it to me.”

  What? “You’re Holly Farraday?” It was more of a statement than a question, because the truth was right there in front of him. In the deep red hue of her hair. The bright green of her eyes. He’d recognized her, all right, because she looked like her grandmother. A young, vibrant version of the old woman who’d stolen his grandfather’s heart all those years ago, and his land.

  “So maybe we’ll see each other again,” she said as she hauled open the door. “Before you leave, that is.”

  But there was no maybe about it.

  Josh would have to see her again, all right, because sweet-smelling Holly Farraday had something he wanted really, really bad.

  His groin throbbed and he conceded. Okay, so she had two things he wanted, but he’d already had one of them and he wasn’t going back for seconds.

  More importantly, she had his family’s land and he meant to get it back. He’d promised his grandfather as much, and Josh always kept his word.

  Especially with his own peace of mind hanging in the balance.

  3

  “IT’S ABOUT TIME you showed up.” Holly dusted the flour from her blouse as she pulled open the front door of the massive farmhouse. “I’m on my tenth Ultimate Orgasm and I need at least a dozen more.”

  “I could guarantee one.” The voice, deep and husky, slid into her ears as she came face-to-face with the cowboy standing on her doorstep. “Maybe even two or three,” he went on, “if I’m not too worked up and there’s no vanilla icing involved. But a dozen is pushing it. Even for a McGraw.”“I was talking about an Ultimate Milk Chocolate Orgasm.”

  “I didn’t know they came in flavors.”

  “Mine do. Milk chocolate.” She tried to gather her wits. “I thought you were the UPS guy.”

  “Cupcake,” he said as he leaned one palm against the door frame and stared down at her, “do I look like the UPS guy?”

  “No. Yes.” She shook her head. “If we were back in Houston, I would say no. But we’re here in Timbuktu, where my mailman rides a four-wheeler with a horn that plays ‘The Yellow Rose of Texas.’ So a UPS guy who looks like the Marlboro Man and drives a…” she glanced past him to the black Dodge Dualie pickup that sat in the front drive “…monster truck wouldn’t surprise me in the least.”

  He grinned and her heart stalled for a dangerous second. Heat skittered along her nerve endings and she had half a mind to reach out and trace the shape of his lips. The other half of her mind voted to bypass the tracing entirely and go straight to a kiss. A hot, wet, deep kiss that would satisfy the sudden craving deep in her belly.

  A full-fledged craving that had haunted her the entire weekend, when she hadn’t had more than a hankering in the past few years since she’d started Sweet Sinful. Launching a new business left little time for socializing and so she’d been having a major dry spell when it came to sex.

  Until Josh McGraw.

  He’d quenched her thirst on Friday night, or so she’d thought until she’d spent the past two days wanting another drink.

  She’d tried her usual remedy for a bad case of lust—a few spoonfuls of her Ultimate Milk Chocolate Orgasm batter never failed to kill the urge and keep her on the straight and narrow to the land of the financially secure. That and a few private fantasies featuring one of her favorite actors.

  Neither had satisfied her this time.

  Josh eyed her and awareness skittered along her nerve endings. “Do you usually proposition the UPS guy?”

  “Proposition?” Her mind rushed back and she remembered her words. “Oh, you mean the Ultimate Orgasm.”

  “A dozen of them.” He shook his head and grinned. “If your UPS guy can deliver that, he’s definitely in the wrong line of work.”

  “I can see your point.” She couldn’t help but smile. “But I wasn’t referring to that kind of orgasm. The Ultimate Orgasm is a mousse cake,” she told him. “Made with three different textures of chocolate, fudge and a swe
et cream. It’s my top seller—particularly the milk chocolate flavor. I make specialty desserts for a living.”

  He arched an eyebrow at her. “And here I thought you might be continuing the family tradition.”

  “I might not agree with my grandmother’s choice of profession, but it was her choice.” A choice that had obviously forced her only child to run away.

  Holly now realized why her mother had been so tight-lipped all those years ago. She’d moved them from city to city, state to state, because she’d been desperate to escape her past and protect her own child from such an influence. Maybe she’d feared her own mother finding her and forcing her back. Or maybe she’d simply been embarrassed. Maybe both. Either way, she’d run and she’d kept running, and now Holly understood.

  Not that Holly felt any shame. Sex wasn’t held in the same taboo as it had been years ago. Besides, Holly had grown up in the city. Several to be exact. She was more open-minded. But growing up the daughter of a small-town madam… That must have been hard.

  “It was her choice,” she said again, “and obviously a pretty smart choice, from what I hear.” And she’d heard an earful in the few days she’d been in town. There wasn’t a person in town who didn’t have something to say about the Farraday Inn. Holly had expected negative comments. Instead, she’d been bombarded with questions about Rose and her infamous recipe book—the sexual dishes she’d served up at the Farraday Inn.

  Did it exist?

  What were the recipes?

  Could they really drive a man to the brink of insanity?

  Maybe. Holly didn’t know. She’d barely set up her kitchen, much less picked her way through her grandmother’s belongings. She did know that there were five “dining” rooms upstairs, each decorated with a particular theme that no doubt catered to a particular recipe. As for the recipes themselves… She’d been too busy setting up shop and thinking about Josh McGraw to wonder if such a book still existed.

  “My grandmother was very successful at what she did, but I’m not continuing the family tradition. I do my best work in the kitchen.”

  He reached out, his finger scooping a speck of fudge from her chin. He touched it to his lips. “I’ll have to remember that.” His gaze went past her to the boxes that filled the living room. “So you’re really settling in here?”

  “I needed more space for my business. My apartment in Houston barely had room to accommodate a commercial oven. Here I’ve got room for three.”

  “Which is why you turned down my offer to buy the place.”

  She remembered the lawyer’s mention of a prospective buyer. “That was you?”

  He shrugged. “The floor you’re standing on used to belong to the McGraws until your grandmother sweet-talked my grandpa into giving her a piece.” His gaze locked with hers. “A piece in return for a piece.”

  She fought down a wave of anger and smiled instead. “It’s a shame your grandfather was such a weak man.”

  He stared at her as if he wanted to argue, but then his expression softened. “He had his moments. We all do.” Regret flashed in his gaze and she might have thought he referred to Friday night, but something in her gut told her the emotion went way beyond one night of lust.

  “I’m sorry your grandfather couldn’t keep his head, but that has nothing to do with me.”

  “I’m more than willing to pay what it’s worth. The going rate for this area is twenty-thousand an acre. That’s what I offered Humphries. But I’m willing to go twenty-five. Plus a nice chunk for this house. I can have the papers drawn up and the money in your hand by the close of business today.”

  “But I just moved in.”

  His gaze pushed past her and settled on the stack of boxes sitting in the living room. “You haven’t even unpacked.”

  “I’m unpacking as soon as I get this order out. Not that it matters. I moved here because I want to live here. This is my place now and it’s not for sale.”

  He frowned. “Not for twenty-five thousand an acre. That’s what you’re saying, right? You want more.”

  “This place isn’t for sale.”

  “Cupcake, everything’s for sale if the price is right. If I’ve learned anything over the past five years since I started buying back the land that your grandmother gave away, it’s that. I actually paid for a five-acre tract on the other side of the river with a custom-made pool and big-screen projection TV. Old Mrs. Witherspoon, whose husband was one of your grandma Rose’s favorite customers, said she didn’t feel right taking money for something that she didn’t rightly pay for—Rose gave it to her husband in appreciation for forty years of loyal patronage.”

  “If she’s got that much of a conscience, I would think she would have just given it back to you.”

  “She’s a good woman, not a stupid one. Besides, she loves Wheel of Fortune and her eyesight is fading. That’s why she’s living in town with her daughter’s family. She has trouble getting around by herself and so she spends most of her time sitting around. She needed a big screen she could actually see and she sure-as-shootin’ can’t afford one on Social Security.”

  “What about the swimming pool?”

  “She’s got grandkids and it gets awful hot here in the high heat of summer.” For emphasis, he pulled off his hat and wiped a hand over his brow. “It’s only May right now and we’re already up into the nineties. And this is nothing compared to how hot it’s going to get in the next few months.”

  “I’ve lived in Houston for five years. I know how hot it gets in Texas. That’s why I’ve ordered two extra window units for the downstairs alone. As for a big screen, I don’t have time to watch TV.” She had not only her business to keep her busy, but her new life, as well. She needed to really settle in and turn the Farraday Inn into a real home. “I’ve got curtains to buy and a garden to plant.”

  “You garden?”

  “Not yet, actually, but I’m going to start.”

  “There are a lot of nice places closer to town.”

  “I’m sure there are, but I’m not interested.”

  “Because I haven’t hit on the right price. Just tell me what it would take.”

  She thought for a moment and a smile tugged at her lips. “If you’ve got one hundred pounds of flour on you, I might be willing to make a deal.”

  “A hundred pounds?”

  “I’ve got orders to fill and I’m crunched for time.” She glanced at her watch. “I really have to go. So unless you’re packing several bags of the white stuff, this conversation is over.”

  She could tell that he wanted to smile. But something held him back. “That’s your final answer?”

  “Yes.” She watched him shrug as if giving in. Yeah, right. If she’d learned anything over the past two days, it was that Josh McGraw was a man who went after what he wanted. She’d heard almost as many rumors about him as she had her grandmother. About how he and his two brothers—he was the oldest of triplets—had practically ruled the town back in the day before they’d all gone off their separate ways. She’d heard about his parents’ untimely deaths within twenty-four hours of each other and his grandfather’s diagnosis with prostate cancer five years ago and the old man’s death just six months ago. All three boys had come back for their grandfather’s funeral, but Josh had been the only one to come sooner. He’d spent time with his grandfather during his last days, and he’d stayed on to run the ranch and buy back the fragmented pieces.

  Yes, she’d heard about him, all right.

  After she’d asked.

  “I realize you’re set on living here, but it’s not going to be the same as the city,” he went on. His gaze fell to the pink strappy sandals she’d pulled on that morning, along with a pink miniskirt and a white T-shirt that read Princess in pink glitter. A perfect ensemble for the mall. Not so perfect for a house out in the middle of nowhere. “You might not like it.”

  “If you’re trying to discourage me, it won’t work.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Be
cause I’ve already given myself the same speech. I know why I shouldn’t be here. The thing is, I want to be here.” Which was why she’d bought herself a pair of cowboy boots with a tastefully low heel and several pairs of jeans. She just hadn’t been able to find them amid all of the other boxes cluttering up the house.

  He stared her up and down, a sweeping gaze that seemed to pause at all of her hot spots, before he finally shrugged. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  “Why do I have a feeling this isn’t your final offer?” she asked him.

  He smiled and tipped his hat. “Because it’s not, cupcake. I’ll definitely be seeing you around.”

  “Not if I see you first,” she breathed as she closed the door behind her and leaned back for a long, heart-pounding moment.

  Josh McGraw was not conducive to her peace of mind. He distracted her. Worse, he attracted her. Enough to make her think twice about what he’d said.

  You might not like it.

  Ridiculous. She would like it. She would love it because this was her dream—a real home where she could plant a garden and make friends and finally fit in for the first time in her life. It was the lust that made her blow out a deep breath and notice the dampness of her T-shirt and the sweat that trickled down her temple.

  She’d lived in Texas for several years. She was used to the heat. Of course, it was quite a bit hotter here than it had been in Houston. And her apartment building had been fairly new, with central-air units in each apartment. Unlike the old farmhouse and its one ancient window unit.

  That’s just temporary. Like Josh.

  Holly was through with fast and furious when it came to relationships. She wanted lasting relationships from here on out. From friendships to that special someone.

  For the first time in her life, she wanted a special someone. A man to laugh with, grow old with, love.

  She licked her lips and tried to ignore the tingling of her own bottom lip as she headed back to her kitchen.

  JOSH CLIMBED into his truck and headed down the long stretch of driveway toward the small farm road that connected the Farraday Inn with the Iron Horse Ranch, and tried to catch his breath.

 

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