Wild Seduction

by Daire St. Denis

She nodded quickly and then went back to eating.

  He let his toe linger on her lower leg and then slowly drew it up, past her knee and thigh, until his foot rested on the edge of the chair between her legs. She set her fork down and blinked at him from across the little table.

  Without a word, she eased her pelvis forward in her seat so that his foot was right at the juncture between her legs. It was Ashley who raised and lowered her pelvis against the bottom of his foot, wriggling her warm self against him. Lord help him, he could feel her heat right through the denim.

  He rubbed right back.

  Her lids opened and closed lazily as she scooped a forkful of potatoes into her mouth and slowly ate while he used his foot to do wicked things to her.

  “You like that?” he asked, his voice gruff.

  “The potatoes?”

  “Sure.”

  “Mmm-hmm. Yep.”

  He helped himself to a mouthful of potatoes, too—nice and creamy and buttery—while he wriggled his foot along the seam of her jeans. “Best I’ve ever had.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

  She set her fork down before reaching beneath the table and grabbing his foot. “You’re pretty good at the sweet talk, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Oh, I think you do.” She skimmed her short nails up the bottom of his foot; an acute ticklish sensation had him jerking his leg and nearly toppling the entire table.

  With a laugh she pushed his foot off her lap and stood. “Finish up. I want to head back up to the Doghouse to take some sunset pictures.”

  She gathered up dirty plates and carried them to the little kitchen all calm and cool as if he hadn’t just been grinding his bare foot against her pussy. He picked up the platter of chicken and followed her, trapping her in the small kitchenette.

  “Do you have any idea how unfair that was?” He set the platter on the counter and rested his hands on her slim hips, pulling her against him so that she could feel him.

  She smiled sweetly. “I warned you.”

  He leaned down. “Yes, you did,” he whispered. “But I’m willing to bet that you came first.” He blew gently in her ear. “And—” he touched the lobe of her ear with his tongue “—I’m going to make you feel so fucking good, you’re going to beg me to make you come a second time.”

  Though her gaze was aloof, her soft pants gave her away.

  “You think you’re the shit, don’t you?”

  “It’s not my fault,” he said, dipping his fingers down the front of her shirt, grazing the top of her breasts, “that you can’t get enough of me.”

  She took hold of his hand and pulled it out of her shirt. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, her lips plump like they’d been kissing.

  “The fact that you’re practically bursting out of your jeans means you can’t get enough of me.” She held her hand out for him to take. “So, I’ll take that bet. Let’s see who makes who come first.”

  * * *

  ASH WRAPPED HER arms around Colton’s waist and snugged herself right up against his broad back as they made their way by quad back up to the old homestead. The evening was cool, and it was nice to be so close to Colt. He was so solid and warm and strong. Capable, too. That was sexy.

  He was a manly man. Ash had never given it much thought, but manly men were hot.

  Yes, but it’s Colton Cross we’re talking about here, her snarky side reminded her. For some reason, Ash couldn’t quite conjure up the old disdainful sentiments.

  Once parked, Ash got to work taking pictures of the ranch down below—she planned to give the pictures to Gloria and Dillon to use on their promotional materials. Then she took some pictures of Colt when he wasn’t looking: one where his hat was pulled down low, his hands were stuck in his pocket and he was looking down with the sky painted in watercolors behind him.

  “Can you sit on the step?” she asked.

  “Why?”

  “I just want to get a few pictures.”

  “You don’t want pictures of me.”

  Was he putting her on? Pretending to be modest? Maybe, except that every time he caught her taking a picture, he ruined it by putting a hand up to block her or turned around. Finally, he put his hand out for her camera.

  “You know what I think?”

  “No.”

  “I think you need to have some pictures taken of you.”

  “No. I’m not photogenic.” She shook her head and took a couple more shots as the sun quickly descended behind the peaks. When she finished, Colton was standing there with his hand extended.

  “Give it to me.”

  “No.”

  “Do you really want to do this?”

  “Do what?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed her about the waist, pinning both arms down with one of his ridiculously strong limbs and wrestling the strap of her camera from around her neck.

  “Hey!”

  “How many times do I have to teach you about messing with me?” Colton asked, taking a bunch of pictures, not bothering to focus. Ashley grabbed for the camera, but he hefted it out of her range and kept depressing the shutter even though he wasn’t looking through the viewfinder.

  “Stop!”

  “Nope. We need some pics of the photographer.” Holding the camera aloft, he simply held the shutter down. There had to be at least one good one in the dozens of images he was taking.

  “Enough.” She finally plopped down on the porch swing, and Colt sat beside her, handing her the camera. She left it on her lap, and the two of them sat there, gently swinging in silence for a few minutes as dusk settled around them.

  “You’re an ass,” Ash finally said.

  “Maybe. But you love it.”

  She elbowed him and then secured the lens cap over her camera. “So,” she said, “what’s this place used for?” She glanced up at him. “And why is it called the Doghouse?”

  Colt explained how it was the original homestead and that after the Wells family, the original owners of the ranch, had built down in the valley, it was used for the men of the family when they were in trouble.

  She laughed.

  “The Wells men made a point of getting into trouble. Often. Then they’d come up here, not out of penitence but to host poker games. All the men and ranch hands from around these parts would come out.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. Even my brothers used to come here when they were teenagers to play poker and drink whiskey.”

  “Cool.”

  “Yeah.” Colton stared off into the distance. “God. I looked up to them so much, I wanted to be just like them. Lots of times I feel like I missed out on stuff after my oldest brother died.”

  “That was when you moved, right?”

  “Yep. Sold the ranch and just me and my parents went to Arizona.”

  “But you used to come back in the summers, didn’t you?”

  “Yep. Worked right here, on this ranch.” He nudged her. “How come you remember me from those days, but I don’t remember you?”

  Ashley shrugged. “Because I’m invisible.” She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, it just came out.

  Colt caught a fine wisp of hair as it fluttered across her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Why did you want to be invisible?”

  She covered his hand. “It wasn’t a choice.”

  “Sure it is.” He ran the backs of his knuckles down her cheek. “Believe me, Ash, you have no problem standing out when you want to.”

  She drew her brows together. Was that true? Had she purposefully flown under the radar for most of her life? If so, why?

  “Or, maybe I didn’t remember you beca
use I have a one-track mind—”

  “A truer statement has never been told,” Ash interjected, eyeing the fly of his jeans.

  He chuckled. “Believe it or not, I was focused on emulating my big brother. That’s when Dillon made the pro tour, and I knew that’s what I was going to do, too.” His face turned serious as a faraway look came into his eyes. “It’s going to happen this year, Ash. I got enough points on the amateur tour last year to be invited to a pro qualifying event in Wyoming in a couple of weeks. I’m going to make the pros, and then things will change.”

  “How so?”

  “The pro tour runs all year. New towns every weekend. Not just little shit holes but big cities. Then there’s the money you can win. Big pots. More than enough to live on.” He shut his eyes. “It’s only been my dream since I was a kid.” He glanced at the door behind him. “And used to try to follow my brothers here.”

  Ashley stared off into the distance, too, trying hard not to think about Colton in all those different places with all those adoring women, but she couldn’t. The thought made her chest ache.

  Time to think about something else.

  Ash gazed up at the old house. “You have a key to this place?”

  “No, but I know where one’s hiding. Why?”

  “I think it’s time you played poker at the Doghouse.”

  * * *

  COLTON HAD NEVER spent much time up at the old homestead. The inside was rustic, a fireplace on one end with a love seat and a well-worn chair. In another corner was one of those old wood-burning ovens surrounded by cupboards. There was a small table with a couple of chairs, some shelves filled with old tins, lanterns and other odds and ends.

  “How can there be no cards here?” Ashley asked as she went through the drawers and cupboards he’d just been through. Cutlery. Dusty cups and dishes. An old tea tin and biscuits circa the last century. No cards.

  “Don’t ask me,” Colt said, finding a bottle of whiskey stashed at the back of one cupboard and plopping it on the table. “But at least there’s this.”

  There was a drawer at one end of the table, and Ashley pulled it open. She reached inside and fished something out, shaking whatever it was in her hands. “You ever played dice?” she asked.

  “Like craps?”

  “No. It’s like truth or dare with dice. If the two numbers add up to an even number you have to tell a truth. Odd, it’s a dare. If you roll a one—” she pointed to the whiskey “—you take a shot. And sixes—”

  “Sixes mean you have to take off an article of clothing,” Colton finished for her.

  Her secret, sexy smile appeared at that comment. “So you have played.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Never played.”

  “That surprises me.”

  “Well, the point was to hook up with girls you liked. I never needed to play.” He bit down on his lower lip to hide his grin.

  Ashley rolled her eyes at this. “God, you’re full of yourself. Just when I think you might be a decent guy, you remind me of your arrogance.”

  “Arrogance.”

  “Yep.”

  “Is it arrogance that makes you come so hard your eyes roll right up inside your head?”

  She punched him.

  “Ouch.”

  “And you’re an ass. Are we going to play, or are you just going to continue being your conceited self?”

  He pulled a chair out for her and waved dramatically for her to sit, pushing it in like a gentleman—which he had no intention of being from here on in—before sitting himself.

  “You found them, you start,” he said.

  Ashley shook the dice and rolled a one and a two. Colton passed her the open bottle of whiskey. “Drink.”

  Without cringing, she took a swig right from the bottle, wiped her lips with the back of her hand and set the bottle down. “Your turn.”

  Colton rolled a six and a four.

  “Take off your shirt,” she said without hesitation.

  “Why don’t you take it off for me?” Colton asked, though he started in on the buttons, not expecting her to take him up on his offer.

  “Okay. Come here.”

  He got up and went to stand right in front of her. Starting from where he’d left off, she slowly popped each one, dragging her fingernails down the center of his chest as she went.

  “Can’t keep your hands off me, I see.” His voice was rough around the edges, probably because her hands were now lingering low on his abdomen, making his stomach muscles contract.

  “You have a nice body.” She spread his shirt wide and gave him a good once-over. “It’s too bad you’re so very well aware of that fact.” She fished down beneath the waistband of his jeans, but his belt didn’t allow her to get very far.

  With effort, he moved away from her touch and sat down again. “Your turn.”

  14

  HOW LONG HAD they been playing? It was hard to tell, but she was down to her panties and bra, and Colt was down to his underwear. She’d had four—no, five—shots of whiskey and had confessed who her first crush had ever been.

  Of course she’d lied, saying it was Curtis, which was enough of a surprise to Colton. No way she’d ever tell him that she’d had a crush on him in grade school. God. That was just way too embarrassing.

  When Colton had rolled an odd number, she’d dared him to eat one of the ancient biscuits, which he only choked down by chasing it with big gulps of whiskey. His ruddy cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were bright, and she wondered if he was starting to feel the warm effects of the whiskey, too?

  On her next roll, she got a two and a three.

  “Dare, huh?” Colton studied her, with a wicked gleam in his eyes. He tapped his lips as he contemplated what he was going to make her do. He got up and took a peek out of the window. It was dark now. “I dare you to streak around the Doghouse.”

  “But I’m still dressed.”

  “Well, then, you’re going to have to get naked, lady,” he said in a deep, commanding voice.

  Was it wrong that she liked him when he was bossy like that?

  Nah. As long as he never told anyone.

  Slowly Ash stood, turned and then unclasped her bra while her back was to him. After shimmying out of her panties, she ran for the door, and out she went.

  The cool night air caressed her naked body in strange and wonderful ways as she sprinted around the old homestead, giddy as a schoolgirl after sneaking her first drink.

  When she got back to the porch and went to open the door, it was locked. What the...

  She pounded. “Colton, let me in.” She glanced over her shoulder, scouring the dark landscape, hoping for no signs of life. “Colton!” Using her closed fist, she pounded three more times before hearing the latch on the door slide. Because the light was behind him when Colt opened the door she couldn’t see his expression, but she could guess.

  “What’s the problem?”

  Ash elbowed him in the gut as she pushed past. Though the truth was, she wasn’t angry. Not even when Colton held on to her arms to keep her from going by. He shut the door with his foot and let his gaze rake over her.

  “Hey,” she said, trying to cover herself up.

  “Why are you so damn shy sometimes?” Catching her hands, he pulled her arms away so he could take a nice long look at her. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you closer than this.” His gaze lingered before he finally released her.

  She snatched her bra and panties from the floor and put them back on.

  “You’ve got a very nice body,” he said, repeating what she’d said to him. “Too bad you don’t know it.”

  She glared at him over her shoulder. Except she wasn’t mad. Not at all. In fact, being with Colton made her feel...sexy. With him, she wanted to flaunt her
body because she loved the look of desire that came into his eyes when he gazed at her.

  No one had ever looked at her like that. Not even the Spaniard.

  Once dressed again, they sat back at the table, and Colton rolled the dice. One of his rolls was a one, and he took a long pull from the whiskey bottle and then passed the dice.

  Next Ashley rolled a four and a two. “Truth,” she said. She drummed her fingers on the table waiting for him to ask her a question.

  “Tell me, Ashley,” he said quietly, pulling his chair so close their bare knees were touching. “Have you ever been in love?”

  This was not the question she’d expected. She sat up straight and blinked. “In love?”

  “Yes.”

  Slowly, she shook her head from side to side. “No. You?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, that’s one thing we have in common.”

  “That’s not the only thing we have in common.” He hooked his feet around the legs of her chair and pulled her close. With his hands on her knees, he spread them so that his legs could fit between. Up his hands went. Sliding slowly up, and up.

  And up.

  “Tell me something else,” he prodded.

  “What?” She choked on the word because his thumbs had met at the crotch of her panties, and together pressed into her damp heat.

  “Why are we doing this?”

  She leaned toward him, hands on his legs, resting her head on his lovely chest. “Um, because it feels good?”

  “True.” His thumbs worked beneath the elastic of her panties, dipping into her as his fingers kneaded her thighs.

  She groaned, leaned forward and bit him.

  “I’m just thinking...” Colton began.

  Ash stopped listening. What he was doing to her felt so damn good, she couldn’t concentrate on words when her mind had gone blank from pleasure. With hands on his shoulders, she pushed herself to her feet, wriggled out of her panties and climbed right up onto Colton’s lap, straddling him. Holding on to the sides of his face, she kissed him.

  “Did you hear me?” he asked against her mouth.

  “No.”

  He licked across her lips and then whispered, “Why not keep doing what we’re doing?”