by Starla Kaye
Valentine’s Cowboy
By
Starla Kaye
©2013 by Blushing Books® and Starla Kaye
Copyright © 2013 by Blushing Books® and Starla Kaye
All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Kaye, Starla
Valentine’s Cowboy
eBook ISBN: 978-1-60968-241-5
Cover Design by edhgraphics.blogspot.com
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
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Starla Kaye
“Live, love, laugh… such simple words, but words I take to heart. There are never enough hours in my day to do even half of the things I would like to do. But no matter how crazy my life get, I try to incorporate my words to live by (live, love, laugh) into each day.”
Visit Starla’s website here:
http://starlakaye.com
Visit her blog here:
http://starlakaye.com/category/blog/
Don’t miss these other exciting stories by Starla Kaye:
All He Wants For Christmas
Bah, Humbug Cowboy
Cupid’s Mistake
If You Loved Me
Chapter One
What she needed was a big Cupid dartboard on her office wall and a few darts. Then she could toss the darts at some strategic places. The vision almost made Valentine Hart smile. Romance, patooi! Probably a bad attitude for a professional romance therapist, but there it was. Romance sucked!
If she was really lucky she would never receive another overly mushy card that professed how wonderful or how beautiful she was—in the most generic ways. She would never sit through another candlelight dinner for two where the man insisted on choosing her meal, unconcerned with what she really wanted. She would never endure having another handsome man seduce her with sweet talk, and then attempt to make her “see the stars” as he had his way with her body.
She sat back in her big leather executive chair, swiveled it to look out the window of her corner office, and tried to force the memory of the night before far from her mind. Not possible. It had been too awful. The blind date from hell, even if that was a bit cliché. It was such a shame, too. At first glance of the GQ fashioned stockbroker she’d had such hopes for the evening. Hopes that were dashed almost from the moment he sat down across from her in her favorite, very romantic little Italian restaurant. It would be a long time before she’d feel up to going there again. He’d soured her on that, too.
She squeezed her eyes shut and slowly shook her head at the sadness of it all. Shoulder-length hair dusted her shoulders. The effort didn’t get rid of the memory, but it did make her slightly dizzy. Or maybe she was dizzy and light-headed from lack of sleep lately, or from frustration. How about all of the above?
Why did the men she dated forget about her being a highly skilled professional and only see her blond hair, only think of her as ditzy? Why couldn’t men see past her unfortunate perfect Barbie doll figure? Weren’t there any men—make that available men—out there who thought with more than their dick? Men whose blood actually flowed all the way to their brain and could make conversation. Decent conversation, that is. More than about their flashy, over-priced car or their high-tech apartment with a playboy’s dream bedroom. Wasn’t there any man who could talk about more than his amazing skills between the sheets?
She heaved a disappointed sigh and looked again out at the sky burdened with thick gray clouds holding the promise of another depressing winter day. Perfect. She was already depressed about the whole issue of romance. Okay, she had to admit that never wanting any of those romantic things again was a bit dramatic. Normally, she liked all of that. But she hadn’t had much luck with any of it, beginning with her failed marriage. Insert heavy sigh here.
She was a professional, an independent woman quite capable of running a business and handling her life. She had a sensual, loving side that was apparently going to waste away if she continued in her rut of dating the wrong men. She didn’t want to be a man’s substitute mother, major “oh yuck!” Or be his caretaker. Too many of the men she’d dated in the last year seemed to be looking for those skills in a woman. If not those traits, then they wanted a brainless playmate in bed, particularly one who praised their super-stud abilities. As far as she’d been able to tell “super-stud” merely meant the man had a penis and knew where to stick it in his partner of the moment for his pleasure alone.
Okay, she was in a seriously bad mood.
Her thoughts returned to the male Cupid dartboard idea. She smiled wickedly, knowing exactly where she would toss that first dart.
Then the image of Cupid changed to her ex-husband. She cringed and quickly put many layers of clothing on “Cupid.” How could she not have sensed he was at heart a gay man? Why had she had to catch him enthusiastically having at it with their former neighbor before she slammed into the wall of reality? That was so not an image she wanted to keep in her mind! Even worse, why hadn’t she been horrified, angry, felt betrayed? She’d simply given him the divorce and wished him happiness in his next relationship.
And she’d not found a really hot relationship of her own since then.
Her breath caught in her throat as she figured it out. I’m a lesbian! That had to be the answer. But she didn’t remember ever paying all that much attention to what another woman looked like. She didn’t remember ever wondering what another woman would be like in bed. Maybe she’d been suppressing those things because she’d b
een married. Yes, that had to be it. No. Well, maybe. Oh, she was confused.
Feeling a headache coming on, she swiveled her chair back around to face her desk and the reality of her daily world. Her appointment schedule covered the monitor. No sign of a blank hourly space for the next month. Business was booming, which should make her feel great. Unfortunately, as a momentarily romantically challenged partner in a romance therapy business, she felt stressed instead. She couldn’t handle clients right now. She couldn’t find a way to offer advice to improve a relationship, or to suggest intimate little rendezvous ideas. She couldn’t face another hopeful couple seeking romantic bliss.
She needed a vacation. Now!
She glanced down at the wedding invitation from a sweet young couple she’d counseled the last couple of months. Shelby Thompson had absolutely blossomed during the sessions. Shelby had come completely out of the passion-suppressed state she’d been in due to having been raised by a stuffy, strict, domineering older brother. He wouldn’t even leave his precious ranch to go to the wedding in Maui. Boy, if she could get her hands on the man…or maybe toss a couple of darts his way.
Maui! Perfect!
Before she could talk herself out of it, she punched the line for the firm’s receptionist. “Tracy?”
“Yes, Ms. Hart?”
“Clear my schedule for the next two weeks, beginning today. I’m going on vacation.”
Her heart raced at the spur of the moment decision. For too long the business had consumed her. She’d worked hard to help get the firm established. She’d sacrificed a lot of personal things, including her dream of opening a bed-and-breakfast and hosting retreats for women recovering from bad relationships. She was the reigning Queen of Bad Relationships. She’d been spinning out of control for too long.
It was time to get away, time to calm down, and time to figure out her life. Maybe even come to grips with her momentary sexual-orientation confusion. Something made only more confusing when her next mental image was of a darkly tanned, muscled, male luau dancer. Then another image popped into her head, one of a cowboy sitting atop a powerful horse, the cowboy’s well-defined chest was shirtless. She was a bare chest lover. Well, a nice taut butt was pretty intriguing also.
What was she thinking! The cowboy looked suspiciously like the photo Shelby had shown her of the doesn’t-have-a-clue-how-to-raise-a-sister older brother.
She forced away the image and reiterated her message to the receptionist, “Rearrange my schedule. Now!”
“Val? Val, what are you talking about?” came the horrified voice of one of her two partners, Abby Tarrington, obviously standing near the front desk. “You can’t leave! That’s just nuts!”
Valentine supposed the decision could be seen as “nuts,” but she didn’t actually care. She’d been working a ton more hours than either of her partners. Her choice, yes. But now she was making a new choice. “I have two partners—of which you are one—who are more than capable of handling the firm’s appointments. I’ve covered for both of you many times.”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts about it, Abby! The beaches of Maui are calling me far away from Kansas City. Far, far away from Greg-of-bold-hands, and Thinks-he’s-super-stud-but-isn’t Paul.”
She cringed at the mention of her last two dates, especially GQ guy. Again wondering how it was that she attracted such jerks? Was there something on her forehead that flashed: Need laid. Accept all ridiculous come-on lines.
She sensed Abby getting ready to launch into a lengthy protest and cut her off. “I’m burned out, useless as a romance therapist. I’m taking a break. Taking it now! Figure out how to deal with the schedule.”
* * *
Nine freaking hours on an airplane. Sam Thompson hated cramped spaces. He hated flying and everything about it. You didn’t even get decent meals anymore. A pitifully small bag of dried out pretzels, maybe. Or you could pay for a snack, which he refused to do. The cost of the ticket was bad enough. And there were crying babies with frustrated mothers. The flight attendants weren’t much better, after the first couple of hours they were pretty harried. Never again would he go through this kind of hell. His sister owed him big for this! It was bad enough she wanted him to put on a tux and give her away in marriage. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d worn a suit.
He felt his lip curling in a snarl. He didn’t want to give Shelby away. He didn’t think that fiancé of hers was good enough for her. Not that his love-struck sister cared two cents for his opinion. Disrespectful brat, even if he loved every disrespecting inch of her. He’d been older brother and substitute parent for over twelve years, since their parents had died and he’d been forced into the role and management of the family ranch. He was life experienced. She wasn’t.
He blew out a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. It didn’t help. Shelby had used her sweet, innocent pleading voice on him the second time she’d asked him to come to the wedding. She’d never taken “no” very well. His initial resistance had finally melted like chocolate in the sun. He’d be donning a damn tux, looking like an idiot. Cowboys weren’t meant to wear fancy duds like that.
Smoldering at the upcoming humiliation, he thought again about his destination. Maui. Maui! Cowboys didn’t belong in Maui. At least not this cowboy. If he didn’t love the imp so much… If she didn’t wind him so easily around her delicate little finger, he would have put his size twelve boots down and flat out said No!
As he attempted to find a more comfortable position for his six-foot-four-inch frame, he grimaced. He should have forked out the money for first class. But he didn’t like wasting money, not when the ranch he was so damn tired of running needed every penny he could get his hands on. He hoped like hell he could talk Shelby and Dale into changing their minds about taking over Dale’s family’s tour business on Maui and take over the ranch in Kansas instead. It was as much hers as it was his.
He’d been thinking for months now how badly he wanted free of the ranch. He wanted to return to veterinary school to finish his degree. The dream he’d given up at twenty-two and had only resurfaced again when Crowley’s old veterinarian told Sam he wanted to retire. But he’d been waiting on Sam to finish his schooling and take over the practice. Damn. He wanted to do that so bad he could feel the longing clear down to his bones. He had to convince Shelby to do her duty with the family ranch.
Forcing aside the thoughts for now, he attempted to stretch out the kinks in his back and only ended up feeling worse. At least he didn’t have someone sitting next to him. A few minutes ago the pilot had announced that they’d be landing in Maui in another hour. Seven days on what had once been a volcano, now professed to be paradise. It’s a damn tiny piece of land surrounded by water. The idea alone made him shudder. He missed the rolling flint hills of Kansas already.
“Have you been to Maui before?” the early-twenty-something blond across the aisle asked cheerily, interrupting his bout of self-pity.
“No,” he stated simply, hoping she’d give up on him.
She’d spent a great deal of time trying to engage him in conversation, even though he hadn’t tried to encourage her in any way. He had just finished a five-year relationship with a woman he’d been comfortable with. He wasn’t exactly upset about the break up. He’d never had much luck when it came to finding a woman as passionate as he’d like her to be, or one that really sparked a need in him to mention the idea of marriage. Still, he wasn’t particularly interested in the dating scene again just yet. Certainly not with a peppy cheerleader type. In comparison to her, he felt ancient and decrepit, even if he was only thirty-three.
“You’ll love it!” She all but bounced in her seat in excitement. “Everything is so green, except the flowers, of course. And there’re tons of flowers.” She winked at him in a way he suspected was supposed to be flirtatious. “It’s warm, too, for February. Bikini sunbathing weather, in the low 80s. I’ve got the cutest, tiniest bikini and can’t wait to wear it.”
He
didn’t want to think about her in a bikini, or about her at all. Not that he didn’t appreciate a woman’s body in some skimpy pieces of fabric. Or flat-out, bare naked. But he preferred a woman much closer to his age. A woman with a little meat on her bones, too. He preferred a woman who had some experience with a man and all the wonders that could be shared by good lovemaking. Miss Barely-Out-of-Her-Teens was scrawny, like too many of the high-fashion models these days. He sure didn’t want to think that she knew much about heat between the sheets.
“I like cold weather,” he finally said to discourage her.
It worked. Her eyes rounded and she looked like he’d slapped her. With a final shake of her head in disgust, she gave up on conversing with him. Thank God. She plunked her headphones back on and returned to watching the in-flight movie. He went back to reminding himself how much he loved his sister, enough that he was on his way to Maui. The last place he wanted to be, except to convince Shelby to take over the ranch.
* * *
The phone rang in the living room/kitchen area and interrupted Valentine’s dream of lying on the beach at sunset. She had just reached the point of moaning in increasing need as a tall, dark, and delicious man went from kissing her senseless to nibbling his way down to a breast he had slid free of her bikini top. As her frustrated body fought off losing the sensual dream, she squeezed her eyes more tightly closed and hissed her annoyance. Death to the intruder!
Her body still tingling in anticipation of the wonders that were not to be, she opened her eyes and was startled that the bedroom had darkened. She’d only lain down for a short nap to get over some of the jetlag headache. Short had evidently turned into quite a few hours.
