Cowboy Heat - Hell Yeah 1

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Cowboy Heat - Hell Yeah 1 Page 6

by Sable Hunter


  “Good thing I’m tall then, they’d have to be on stilts to reach you up here – or –” he snorted, “fall out of a tree on you.” That elicited another movement in his arms, this time she burrowed into his chest and he just laughed some more. “You are so cute.”

  He propped her up on one knee while he opened the door, then locked it behind him. Carrying her up the stairs, he stole a few kisses on the way – just for good measure. When they passed Bess’s room, she grunted and made a little motion with one foot. He just kept on going until he was behind closed doors. His bedroom doors. Laying her on the bed, he set the alarm clock and went to the bathroom. Returning with a wet washcloth he wiped her off gently between the legs, then kissed her right dab on the clitoris. She moaned sleepily. “Are you sure you want me to sleep in here with you?”

  “Baby, this is where you will sleep from now on.” He didn’t even realize the implications of what he was saying.

  “Until it’s time for me to go,” she added and he grunted noncommittally. That didn’t sound right. Where in the hell did she think she was going?

  Aron didn’t even realize that his mind was slowly changing.

  ? Chapter Three ¿

  Aron knew he needed to sleep, but he couldn’t resist just taking the time to look at her. She lay on her side and he was cuddled up against her back, nestled together like two sugar spoons. He had to grin though, because every once in a while she would push her little bottom back into his groin and wiggle it just a little. The first two times she did it, he thought that she was awake and trying to start something sexy, but the little angel was asleep – fast asleep. That tempting little move was just her body’s natural reaction to him. To him. She didn’t want to sleep away from him – not touching during the night – like Sabrina. Libby was like a warm, soft kitten. She didn’t mind being held and stroked. Occasionally, he would run the palm of his hand from her shoulder down her arm or from her waist over her hips – just acquainting himself with her body and its response to him. Slipping his arm under her head, he pulled her back so he could kiss her on the temple. When he did, she let out the softest, sweet, little breathy sigh. It made his heart turn over. God, was she real? Was she as sweet as she seemed to be? Could she be happy on Tebow away from the city lights and the malls? Could she be happy with one man, instead of a troupe like Sabrina required? All of these questions rolled through his head, until exhaustion allowed him to rest.

  Libby pulled herself from Aron’s arms. It was only four-thirty. When he pulled her back again, she rolled over and kissed him gently on the lips. “I’m getting up, you rest for another hour.” With an incoherent little grunt, Aron snuggled down under the covers. Libby made her way back to Bess’s room and into a warm, welcoming shower. She was sore in places that made her excited just thinking about them. Aron had loved her long and hard and she wouldn’t have traded one second of it for the whole world. She knew there would come a day when that memory would get her through some dark, lonely hours.

  It was so tempting to go back in and swipe a few more kisses, something told her she could properly interest him in even more, if she tried. That was a heady feeling, sort of like a power trip. Sickly, little Libby Fontaine could make the great Aron McCoy sit up and beg. Well, maybe. He needed his rest, however, and she had a job to do.

  The kitchen was a welcoming place. All of Tebow was warm and inviting. A huge log house with acres of exposed beams, golden oak flooring and huge stone fireplaces. It would take a lot of hours and hard work to keep this place spic and span. But, Libby would do it – gladly. But first, the cinnamon rolls. She popped them in the oven, made a strong pot of coffee and some sticky, ooey-gooey white icing for the rolls. Soon, a heavenly smell would rise to the rafters. While they were cooking, she prepared three gigantic frittatas with potatoes, eggs and sausage. Next, a pan of homemade biscuits. A noise from the pipes alerted her that someone was up – probably Aron. Quickly, she filled a tray with the rolls and the coffee and sat it at his place at the table. That way, if he wanted to take it to his office, it would be ready for him. She also ran outside, retrieved his newspaper, and placed it on the tray.

  Although it was late summer, the air conditioner was turned down low. Inspiration struck and she hurried to the laundry room and found a thick fluffy navy blue towel. The oven was warm, so she rolled it up and laid it within the toasty confines for about ninety seconds. Testing it with her fingers, it was perfect. Hurrying up the stairs, she darted in his room and crept into his bathroom – prepared to lay it on his sink and then slip back out. Like a flash, without looking, she opened the door and stuck her hand it to deposit the warm offering. A hand gripped her hard, stopping any further movement. With one smooth swing, Aron pulled her in and right up against his naked, damp body. Covering her mouth, he began to feast. “What are you doing sneaking in on me, angel? Were you warm for my form? ” he joked.

  ‘Yes, always,’ she thought.

  Reaching behind her, she pulled the towel and unfurled it, wrapping him in its soothing warmth. “Damn, that’s nice.” He enfolded her in his arms again; he would never tell her that the towel was in his way. Her body was much more welcome, but the thought of the toasty towel was one of the nicest things anybody had ever done for him. “Are you trying to spoil me?”

  “I’m trying to pamper you,” she said against his throat. Then, she pulled back. “My frittatas!” She yelped. “Hurry down, baby. I have a surprise for you.”

  He watched her go with a smile. Suddenly the world was a much brighter place.

  ************************

  Aron closed his eyes in ecstasy. “These are the best things that I have ever had in my mouth,” then he grinned. “Except for these.” He lunged for Libby, picking her up in his arms and fitting his mouth over one breast – bra, shirt and all.

  “Aron, that’s going to show,” Libby gave a token protest. But, God it felt good. He applied suction and she felt her vagina contract in jealousy. Walking to the laundry room, with Libby’s legs wrapped around his waist, he continued to suckle at her breasts with vigor. When he sat her up on the dryer, there were big wet circles on her black T-shirt. “I don’t have any more clothes down here,” she whispered loudly.

  Ignoring her anxiety, he fished out one of Nathan’s shirts from the dryer. Turning to her, he started to divest her of the marked garment. When his eyes settled on the two wet circles, he felt his staff rise to the occasion. “Man, I’ve done myself in,” he groaned. Stripping the soiled garment off, he pealed her bra cups down and sucked in earnest. Libby cradled his head to her breast, thinking that this had to be one of the sexiest things she could ever imagine. Laughter interrupted the romantic interlude. Not their laughter, it was coming down the stairs – and soon would come around the bend. Gently pulling the cups back up, he slipped Nathan’s shirt over her head.

  “What if they find us in here? What are you going to tell them?” she asked, but he just smiled. Picking her up, he walked back into the kitchen.

  When he stepped into the dining room, he planted another proprietary kiss on her lips – right in front of the whole family. The laughter stopped, the talking stopped, you could have heard a pin drop, until Jacob sighed and said, “Well, hallelujah.”

  ************************

  Libby made herself at home. She wet mopped floors; she polished banisters and washed windows – always checking the horizon for one particular wide-shouldered cowboy. Having gotten up at four-thirty, she had moved several mountains by ten-thirty; so she allowed herself to venture outside and explore. The gumbo and grilladas were on simmer, so lunch and supper were practically done. She had asked Jacob if it would be all right to make a phone call to Bonnie Drake, the friend that she had told Nathan about. Bonnie wasn’t home, but she had left a message explaining what she needed to know. Bonnie would call back when she had time.

  Hearing a horse whinny in the barn, she took off toward the beloved structure on winged feet. Forever she would treasure the sight of
big old red barns, because one had been the sight of her most precious hours – becoming Aron’s lover for the first time. Peeking inside the barn, she discovered that the occupant wasn’t Aron – it was Joseph.

  “Hey, cutie,” he greeted her. “Want to get down and dirty with me?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Libby answered. Excited. Not sexual excitement – just plain old ‘glad to be alive’ excitement.

  Aron, standing two stalls over, stilled in concern. Was history repeating itself? Walking softly, he slipped up on the two – one whom he loved, the other whom he was fast beginning to worship. Instead of a risqué scene of two cheating people, he found his brother shoveling horse manure and his doll-face pushing the wheelbarrow. “Hey, Joseph, don’t make the munchkin do the heavy work.”

  Seeing Aron, Libby launched herself at him, and he caught her easily. “I want to help. It’s fun to muck around.”

  “What did you say?” he laughed, knowing what she said, but wanting to fluster her anyway. “It’s fun to . . . “

  Playfully, she punched him, then squeezed him tight. “I missed you.”

  Aron’s heart tightened; he refused to analyze the situation, he just enjoyed it.

  ************************

  Libby worked with Joseph until a quarter till twelve, when she took off to make a pot of rice and pour up the iced tea. All five of the older brothers worked the ranch. Jacob had told her that Tebow ran thousands of head of prime Beefmaster and Longhorn cattle. Right now, it was time to move the weaned calves and vaccinate them for brucellosis. It was hard work, but at least they were close enough to all come in for lunch. The gumbo was chicken, sausage and shrimp; thickened with filet and rich with Creole spices. Libby had even made some pecan pralines for dessert. The Fontaines were all from New Orleans originally, so Libby had a whole plethora of Louisiana specialties.

  “My God, it smells good in this house!” Isaac shouted. He bounded in and grabbed Libby and threw her in the air. Before he could catch her, she was gone. Aron had easily stepped up and delivered her from his brother’s clutches. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Isaac, but Libby belonged to him. “Watch it, bro. Be gentle with my baby.” He sat her down and fixed her a bowl of gumbo himself. This was the second time he had served up her meal.

  “Isaac, could you teach me how to drink and shoot pool?” Isaac and Aron both choked on their tea.

  “What did you say?” Isaac asked her for clarification, his eyes locked with Aron’s.

  “Would you take me to a bar and teach me to shoot pool and maybe do tequila shots?” Libby asked innocently, taking small, delicate bites of the warm stew.

  “Uh.” was all Isaac managed to get out of his mouth, before Aron asked the obvious.

  “Why in the world would you want to do something like that?” By God, if anyone was going to take her to a bar, it wouldn’t be Isaac, it would be him.

  “I have a lot to learn, and I only have a few months,” she reminded him, knowing that they thought she meant here at Tebow – when she meant healthy.

  “What do you mean?” Aron asked. “Why are you trying to cram a whole life time of living into just a few months?” Libby looked up and saw that Jacob was watching her closely. Crap! Finesse, Libby. Finesse.

  “Well, my dream has always been to live on a ranch - I’m getting to do that.” She was careful at this point. “I’m also getting to do – other fun stuff.” She bugged her eyes out at Aron, who grinned. “I also want to walk on the wild side, just for a night or two. Who better to show me those things than Isaac?” It made perfect sense to Libby.

  “If you want to go, I’ll take you.” Aron settled the matter. No argument.

  Libby thought, ‘we’ll see’. “Are you sure that you want to be seen in public with me? After all – I’m only a passing fanny.” She was whispering, but every McCoy heard her.

  Aron looked slightly uncomfortable. Libby was not a passing fancy or a passing fanny. “It’s fancy, babe – not fanny.”

  “Oh, the other made more sense, actually.” She was serious. Cute, but serious.

  “What do you mean, Libby?” Noah looked at his brother with censure in his eyes.

  Shit! Aron hadn’t wanted to deal with this in front of his brothers. “Just leave it, Noah,” he ordered his brother.

  Libby instantly realized that she had spoken out of turn. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to Aron. “I just assumed they understood what is going on.”

  “Understood what?” Joseph asked.

  “It’s okay, Aron. I don‘t want you to argue.” Libby tried to repair the damages.

  Aron looked at his bowl, not knowing whether to feel guilty or angry. He opted for angry. “It’s just none of their business, Libby.” he spoke softly, but sternly.

  “Sorry,” she whispered. Picking up her bowl, with only a few bites missing, she placed it on the counter and turned to run up the stairs.

  “What have you done?” Jacob asked his brother, point-blank.

  “Libby knows the score.” Aron wouldn’t meet his brother’s eyes.

  “You told her that she was just a short, sleazy affair?” Jacob had stood up and walked over to his brother’s chair.

  “I didn’t use the word sleazy.” Aron bit off every word. “I just leveled with her. I explained that I wasn’t interested in anything permanent, that I had no intention of remarrying and that I couldn’t make her any promises.”

  “Classy, Aron, classy.” Disappointment dripped off every word that Jacob spoke. “Don’t you know that Libby is a keeper?”

  “She said that a casual affair fit right in with her plans; that she couldn’t make any promises, either.” Even to Aron’s own ears, his words sounded pitiful.

  Jacob stood there for a moment, like he wanted to say something else. After a while, he just shook his head, sat back down and ate in silence.

  “Go to her, Aron.” Noah implored, all of their eyes cut to their big brother, hoping he would do the right thing. “She’s such a sweet, little thing. You don’t want to leave her crying up there all alone. She didn’t do anything wrong.” He didn’t argue with his brothers – they were right.

  Aron threw down his napkin and hurried to the stairs. Trust Libby to force the truth out in the open, even when he didn’t want it there. He went to his room first, after all that’s where he told her she belonged. She wasn’t there. Next, he checked Bess’s room. It was empty, also. A tingle of panic crawled down Aron’s spine.

  Heading out the back door, he started searching for her. He found her in the barn; she was brushing down Kismet, Jacob’s Appaloosa. As she groomed the big horse, she talked to him. “You are so good-looking. Did you know that?” Moving behind the big horse, Aron held his breath. Kismet was a good animal, he never kicked, but you had to be careful when you put yourself in the reach of hard, deadly hooves. “I like to brush you. It makes me feel better.” Aron started to go to her, but she continued to talk, so he listened. “I made Aron angry. I didn’t mean too. I would rather cut off my finger.” She moved on around the big horse, until all Aron could see of her was just the top of her head. “He’s a good man. If things were different . . . . .” then her voice faded to a whisper. Aron couldn’t stand anymore, he walked up to Kismet, leaned over and picked her up.

  Libby was startled, “Cheez-n-Crackers!” she yelped. The odd little saying almost made Aron cry. What was wrong with him? This one little woman was turning his world upside down. When she realized what was happening, she melted into him. “Don’t be mad at me, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Aron, I was just trying to keep things light. I didn’t know that they would misunderstand.”

  When he felt dampness on his neck, he almost lost it. “I’m not mad, baby. It’s okay; it was all my fault, not yours. I can’t expect you to know what’s going on in my mind unless I tell you. All you knew was what I told you. Don’t cry, sweetheart. I can’t stand it. Don’t cry.” Trying to please him, she steeled herself and wiped her eyes.

  “From now on, I’ll
keep my mouth shut, I won’t say anything. I promise. Coming between you and your brothers is the last thing I would ever want to do.” At once, Aron thought of Sabrina and the delight that she took in causing trouble. She would be laughing right now, instead of tearfully begging his pardon.

  “Don’t hold your tongue on my account baby, if I’m not man enough to stand by what I say, I don’t need to say anything at all.” He kissed the trail of tears from her cheeks.

  “Can you tell me what I did wrong, so I can make sure and not do it again?” she hiccupped the question.

  Blowing out a breath, Aron bit the bullet. He didn’t want to hurt her anymore than he already had. “They wanted what you and I have to be real. My brothers worry about me. It’s their hope that I won’t grow old all alone.” Leaning her head against his chest, she rubbed the material that covered his steel-hard pecs.

  “Tell them that it is real.” He grew very still. She continued to speak. “For whatever time it lasts, it is real. That’s no lie, not on my part anyway. I’m not pretending. I think you’re the most wonderful man in the world and I’m the luckiest woman to get to spend even one hour in your arms.” He tightened his grip. “So tell them not to worry, while I’m here, I’ll treasure you. And after I’m gone, you’ll be so used to being loved, that you’ll turn every cactus and rock upside down looking for someone to replace me.”

  Her words made his heart ache. He didn’t really understand it, but the feeling was sharp enough to make him close his eyes in pain.

  Replace her? Not a chance.

  ************************

  Everywhere he looked, Libby was there. He watched her running in the pasture with the horses and the dogs. She held her hands over her head, as if she was trying to catch the wind. That afternoon at supper, there was a jar of wildflowers sitting in the middle of the table. Libby had reheated the gumbo and at three o’clock she had carried each brother a steaming bowl. It had been her fault that their lunch was disrupted and she didn’t want them going hungry on her account.

 

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