Lone Star Burn_Lone Star Sizzle

by Reagan Phillips

  Hunter nuzzled his mouth to her neck, and she tilted her head to give him access. He nibbled at her ear, causing a surge of pain to run from her delicate lobe to her core. She inched up on her heels, asking to feel it again, but Hunter didn’t oblige.

  “Say it, Blythe. Cock. It’s a dirty word. I’m willing to bet you’re a dirty little girl who gets off on saying it.”

  She turned to look into his eyes. “Cock,” she breathed. He was right. The word was dirty on her tongue. And luscious. “I think you’re the one who likes dirty words.”

  He groaned in reply, and a ripple of tingles assaulted her body at the hum of it.

  From somewhere deep, she pulled out the strength to counter him with a game of her own. “I said it. Now, what?”

  “All right.” He pressed a knee between her legs until she practically sat on his thigh. His mouth dropped over her ear again, and with a nibble followed by the stab of pain, she found herself craving.

  “Pussy,” he breathed into her ear. The seduction in his voice tightened her clit. “Let me hear you say that one, dirty girl.”

  Her body shuddered with excitement. “Pussy,” she whispered into Hunter’s shaggy brown hair.

  She felt his approval both in the smile pressed to her ear and the throb positioned at her knee.

  “Good. Now, tell me what you’d like me to do with your pussy.”

  Oh, God. The sensation of stimulation at her center made her twitch on his leg and press her knee into his erection.

  He rewarded that little show of sensual pleasure by undulating his thigh under her until the inseam of her jeans pressed into her swollen nub, and she closed her eyes at the growing desire for release.

  “You can’t have it unless you can say it.” He pulled back long enough to show her an evil smirk.

  The intensity in his eyes and closeness of his body made her dizzy with lust. “Make it come,” she whispered.

  The breath he sucked in was audible.

  Blythe pressed her back into the post. Her heart thumped hard in her chest, and her gaze shot to his.

  “Tell me what you want. Be explicit. What. Where. How. Don’t leave out a single detail.”

  Being explicit was her shot, her chance to see what a real cowboy felt like. Not that she was going to let him know that.

  “Fine,” she forced herself to step forward and took a fistful of his t-shirt in hand.“Take off your shirt.”

  “How?”

  How? Couldn’t he just pull it over his head and end her miserable attempt at being seductive?

  “I don’t know how. Pull it off slow.”

  Hunter started at the base, putting the hem in his fists. Deliberately, he worked the fabric up, revealing that working with dogs did wonders for the body. At his pecs, Hunter slowed long enough to take her hand in his and press it to the thick muscle there, before pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it on the post behind her.

  “What do you want to do now?” he asked.

  What I’d like to do is explore every inch of that taut, tanned muscle with my teeth and my tongue. I want to know what you taste like. What it smells like to lie next to you in bed. How being wrapped in those chiseled arms while riding the erection puckering your jeans would feel. I want it all.

  He cleared his throat, and she realized she’d been staring instead of giving more instructions. She glanced down at his jeans, but going right for it that would be too easy.

  “The hat.” She smiled. “Go get the hat. I want to see what you look like dressed as my fantasy cowboy.”

  The mild look of irritation on his face only lasted a second before he stomped off and back into the barn.

  Feeling her legs shake from adrenaline, Blythe pulled down the truck tailgate and hopped on just before he emerged from the barn, a brown cowboy hat low on his head, and a red and black plaid shirt open at the chest with the sleeves rolled up to his biceps.

  Holy hell, it is true what they say. Nothing beats a man in a uniform. Even if that uniform is country and the man was a complete stranger less than twenty-four hours ago.

  “Well,” he asked, stretching his arms out wide and giving a little turn. “Is it everything you fanaticized about?”

  “And more.” She gave him a comprehensive look. “And so much more.”

  He dropped his mouth to hers, kissing her. He slid his fingers over her chin and caught her cheek in his palm.

  A thrill of excitement shot through her, and she pressed her mouth to his, parting her lips just enough for him to enter and explore.

  He lowered his other hand to the still sensitive spot between her legs and strummed his fingers along her sensitive core. Her thighs shook, and she pulled his tongue in deeper with her teeth and bit playfully. He answered by pressing the pads of his fingers hard against the inseam of her jeans.

  God, the feeling of rough fabric over her aroused center made her crazy with need. She moaned into his mouth.

  “You’re wet.” He pressed into her lips. “I can feel you through your jeans.”

  If Mike, or any other man, had made such a comment, she’d have been too embarrassed even to breathe. But the way Hunter said it, as if she’d just given him the gift of approval, she couldn’t help but to want more. She ran her fingers through his hair. The hat fell free, and she held his face next to hers.

  “Now,” she started, the word coated with a desire she had never felt before in her life. “You tell me something dirty.”

  As if just given the keys to a great kingdom, Hunter’s eyes lit. The smile that followed was equal parts sinful and delicious.

  “I’m envious as hell of a damn pair of jeans right now.”

  She fisted his hair between her fingers as the tempo of his hand grew faster.

  “Unbutton them,” he growled.

  Wrapped in the sensation of ecstasy, she did as commanded without hesitation.

  “Pull the zipper down and slide your hand inside.”

  Blythe sucked in a stiff breath and stared at him until the sureness in his gaze told her she couldn’t back down from the game she’d started. She had to scoot forward on the tailgate to fit her hand into the tight inseam.

  “Tell me what you feel like.” Hunter licked his bottom lip.

  Blythe tilted her head back and slipped a finger between the slick folds. “Hot. Wet. Swollen.”

  A deep moan broke from his throat, one that made Blythe fantasize about licking him there as she had in the truck.

  “That’s good. Now circle your finger over your clit.”

  She closed her eyes and tried to focus on herself. She’d masturbated before−not a fact she was proud of−but she’d been good at getting herself off. Being with Hunter was different. An audience made her self-conscious. Hunter’s heated stare made her more aware of her body, and the new awareness brought a deeper level of desire with it.

  “Blythe.” His voice was soft, pleading with her as if he sat right on the edge with her. “Don’t leave me here, hanging. I want to know. Let me hear what that finger is doing to you.”

  When she didn’t answer the second time, he pressed his hand to the outside of her jeans and traced her hand with his fingers. “Your fingers are on your clit.”

  She leaned forward and opened her eyes to find his closed and his face lost in the same erotic moment she’d found herself drowning in.

  His hand slid into the opening of her jeans and cupped over hers. His finger traced the lines she made, shadowing them until one dipped deeper between her lips and entered her core. Blythe arched her back and spread herself on the textured bed liner. The groves bit into her back, and the sun shined in her eyes and she didn’t give a damn about either.

  Hunter’s fingers circled her outside while the one finger searched her soft fold and ran along the sides of her sex.

  “More,” she breathed and pulled her hand free, giving Hunter room to take over. Hunter answered by plunging a second finger into her opening. His thumb pressed on the swollen clit until she had to sq
ueeze her thighs together to keep from coming in his hand.

  As the sensation grew and spread through her body, she reached for his shoulders to keep steady. The wave of heat built in her core, and she bucked against his hand to release the building inferno.

  It wasn’t until she sat back up that she saw the pleased expression in his eyes. The pride. He pulled his hand from her pants and leaned in, taking her mouth in one last hot, wet kiss that sent her world spinning.

  Damn you, cowboy.

  Hunter stood at her side, and she scooted over, giving him room to take a seat next to her on the tailgate. The silence between them held an awkward weight until he pulled her head to rest on his still heaving shoulder.

  “Things haven’t happened the way you wanted them too,” he cooed.

  “Are you about to say maybe there was a reason for that?”

  “No.” He shifted and cupped her cheeks, turning her to face him. “I was going to say, stay. With me. Here on the ranch. For the week. It won’t be Galveston, but I’m sure we could find ways to entertain each other.”

  Stay with a stranger in the middle of nowhere? Or, go home to an empty apartment and dinners with Mom and Dad?

  Her head said no, but every fiber of her being wanted to be touched by him again. Wanted to know what it felt like to be taken by a man who could make her come in the back of a truck with just his hand. Wanted to step outside the confines of ordinary and try on a little crazy for a change.

  “Under one condition.” She jumped off the tailgate, buttoned her jeans, and gave him a serious look. “This stays uncomplicated.”

  He gave her a once over look and held out his hand. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Shaking hands hadn’t been her plan, but when in Texas… She took his hand and gave it a pump. “Now, show me to my room.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Following Hunter’s direction, Blythe climbed a narrow back staircase and stopped at the first door to the right. A single bed covered in a pale green quilt lined one wall, and a small antique dresser decorated with a flower-patterned pitcher set on the opposite one. The one far wall set alone with the exception of a large window overlooking the barn and fields lined with translucent curtains that hung from a black iron rod.

  The attached bathroom was small and outdated, but with an allure that only came from old things made new again with time and hard work. Blythe left her bags on the bed and stepped into the bathroom, surprised by the claw-footed tub and pedestal sink that had to date back to the first remodel of the house. She turned on the shower facet and let the water run cold, cooling her body from the afternoon heat as much as from Hunter’s touch.

  Having planned to spend the week doing nothing more than drinking too much wine and sunning at the pool, she’d only packed loungewear, a couple of dresses for evening, and a sexy teddy just in case.

  Blythe pulled on a pair of black yoga pants and the matching white tank, twisted her wet hair in a towel, and crawled into white cotton sheets that smelled as if they’d been dried outside in the sun.

  Hunter must have a housekeeper. No man, especially one who worked all day and came home to work on his house in the evenings kept a place as tidy and clean as the ranch house. Either that or he didn’t use the place enough to get it dirty.

  The light from the window overlooking the barn still shone bright, and Hunter claimed to have chores to do before starting lunch, so a nap was in order. Hopefully, by the time she woke, he’d have news about her car from the sheriff, and she’d at least have her wheels to explore the town.

  She set the alarm on her phone for an hour and closed her eyes. Her stomach growled at the thought of lunch. And coffee. Hadn’t he promised coffee?

  By the time she finally woke, she’d forgotten where she was. A quick glance reminded her of Hunter’s place. She picked up her phone and checked the time. The alarm had gone off hours before and had probably tuned off on its own when she never stopped it. Her day with Hunter had taken more of a toll than she’d thought.

  The window was dark as was the room. She crawled from bed, feeling the stiffness in her legs and back from a sound sleep. She unwrapped the towel and let her still damp hair fall to her shoulders. The coolness felt comforting on her heated skin.

  After the preview of Hunter’s dirty minded thoughts in the front yard, she picked out her next outfit carefully, making sure it was thin enough to keep her cool yet thick enough to conceal the texture of the lace bra and panty set she’d bought for just this kind of occasion. Though she had expected she would meet the man in the hotel bar, and by morning, he’d be nothing but a distant memory. Not a housemate like Hunter. A pale blue maxi skirt and matching tank top fit the bill, and she slipped them on with a dab of scented lotion and a light coating of powder to her face. Anything more would melt away.

  Padding across the floor on bare feet, she cracked the bedroom door open and heard the muffled sounds of raised voices downstairs.

  Hunter hadn’t mentioned expecting company. But then again, he hadn’t expected her to sleep away the entire afternoon and on into early evening. Maybe he’d called in the maid. No. The voice was masculine, and angered, though she couldn’t make out what either said.

  Then, there was the sound of a woman. Her voice soothed over the deep undertones of the men.

  Blythe stepped back in her room and closed the door, rethinking walking downstairs. Then again, if he hadn’t wanted her here, he wouldn’t have asked her to stay.

  She opened the door and took the steps with caution. Closer to the source, the voices came from the kitchen.

  With light steps, she treaded just inside the door. Hunter had his back to her, and a taller man, dressed head to toe in cowboy perfection stood facing her with wide eyes and a slack mouth.

  Seconds later, a woman stepped into view from around the corner and dropped a hand to the man’s shoulder. By the look of her belly, she was pregnant enough to pop at any time, and her skin glowed and her lips smiled.

  Hunter must have read their reactions. When he turned around, it wasn’t surprise she found in his features, but embarrassment with a slight twist of anger that made her stomach uneasy.

  “If we’d known, Hunter,” the woman started, but cut off when the man beside her cleared his throat.

  The man with the same broad shoulders and dark complexion as Hunter stepped forward and offered his hand. “I’m afraid we interrupted something. You’ll excuse us. I’m Beau. Hunter’s younger brother.”

  Blythe took his hand and didn’t miss the tension in Hunter’s stare when she did.

  “And this is my wife, Molly.”

  The woman held out her hand, but as soon as Blythe took it, she pulled her into a hug. Molly’s belly bumped into her ribs, and Blythe feared she had hurt her, but Molly held her tight. “It’s so good to meet you.”

  Hunter moved forward. “This is Blythe.” He cut both Beau and Molly off. “She’s the owner of the car you found by your place.”

  All surprise slipped from her mind at the mention of her car. “You found it?”

  “We weren’t sure who the car belonged to.” Beau tipped the brim of his hat to her. “I towed it to our barn with the tractor this morning and put in a call to the sheriff soon after. He mentioned Hunter was tracking a lost vehicle. I’m so sorry about the mix-up. I thought it belonged to a ranch hand out drunk in the field, and I was hoping to play a prank on him.”

  “With a Virginia plate on the back?” Hunter’s tone approached hostile.

  Beau gave his brother a calculated stare. “Not all the ranch hands have Texas plates. They don’t tell, and I don’t ask.”

  Blythe felt the tension between the brothers and fought the urge to step between them. “Not a problem. Where is the car now?”

  Hunter’s eyes caught her gaze. “Beau had it towed to Dale’s. He hasn’t had time to look too closely at the whole car, but for now, you need a new radiator and fan belt.”

  Molly broke the tense silence that fo
llowed. “We didn’t mean to intrude. Beau and I should have called first.”

  She squeezed Beau’s shoulder, but he didn’t seem to take the hint. “Hunter, if you’d told us she was staying here, we would have invited her, too,” he said.

  “Beau.” Molly’s voice held a warning.

  What had she just walked into, other than a discussion about her car?

  “Blythe.” Beau’s eyes softened when they reached Blythe’s, almost as if he was sending her an apology. “We Coles have a family dinner once a week and for the last year my big brother has refused to come. If you’re still in town, maybe you can talk him into making it to the next one tomorrow night.”

  One glance at Hunter told her any answer she gave would be the wrong one. “I’ll see what I can do. If I’m still here.”

  Hunter stared at his brother. “Dale doesn’t work Sundays, and he doesn’t have the parts she needs. You already know she won’t be leaving.”

  Molly took her husband by the hand this time. “We really should be going. Sorry again for the intrusion, Hunter. We’ll tell Gramps hello for you.” She glanced back to Blythe. “And again, so sorry about the car mix-up. Even grown boys will be boys.”

  There was a look between her and Hunter that could set off an electric charge hot enough to ignite the entire room. Then Beau leaned in and kissed his wife’s cheek. He placed a hand on her stomach and softness entered his eyes. “We want you there, Hunter. This little guy needs an uncle like you in his life, no matter how you feel about the rest of us.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Hunter stepped past Blythe and reached for the back door. He opened it and stood to the side. “Tell Gramps I’ll be at the kennel early tomorrow. He can take the later shift.”

  Molly nodded, and the couple left, leaving Blythe to wonder what the rest of us meant.

  Until the back door closed and they were alone again, she hadn’t noticed Hunter had showered, shaved, and changed into a tight fitted black tee and a pair of jeans that hugged every inch of him to perfection. His brown hair was slicked back and still wet from the shower, and the smell of aftershave filled the room.