Cowboy Games

by Wendi Darlin

“You didn’t mention that, and it’s too late to start adding rules now. Especially when I have one kiss left. What state are you in?”

  “Frenzy. This time you’re naked.” She tugged his wrist to her face and spread his hand with both of hers. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could she closed her eyes and slipped his finger between her lips, sliding it in and out before tightening around the tip and plunging to the base again. His other hand moved over her breast, the thick sweatshirt buffering her skin from his grasp. His hair tickled her cheek, his nose touched hers.

  “Wyoming was the correct answer,” he said, exhaling sharply.

  “My answer was correct too,” she said. “What’s your middle name?”

  “How will you know if I give you the right answer?” His mouth was so close his lips brushed hers.

  “I don’t care.” She didn’t care about anything but his mouth on her, his body firing hers.

  He reached for the bottom of her sweatshirt, bunched it in his hands and pushed it up. “Marshall,” he said, lowering his head. “My mother’s maiden name.” His fingers slipped into the cup of her bra and slowly pulled it aside. She arched toward him willing him to take her in his mouth. He blew a breath so cool her nipple hardened with need. She lifted herself higher, silently begging him to taste her, to let her inside the warmth of his body. He answered in spectacular fashion, his tongue swirling and sucking the crest he’d created, feeding her need with an onslaught of sensations that rushed through her.

  She clutched his hair in her hands holding him to her. His knee spread her thighs. She wrapped her leg around his back wanting a lot more than kisses from him. So much more.

  “You better stop,” she said as the urges of her body screamed louder. Too loud to ignore. “You have to stop. Please.”

  He took his time drawing away, gingerly placed her bra back in place and lowered her shirt. His eyes were on her lips, his mouth within inches of hers. “Why?”

  “The game’s over,” she whispered, her voice shook with shackled emotion. She caught a strand of hair that hung near his cheek and tucked it behind his ear.

  He lowered his mouth to hers, but took his time entering her slowly, giving her a chance to welcome him, to invite him further. His kiss didn’t have the urgency or the raw need he spurred in her. She fought to not push for more, willing her pulse to match the unhurried tempo of his pace. He caught one arm and then the other, pinning her wrists above her head, dominating her gently. Even then he didn’t hurry, didn’t press for more, didn’t even grind his hips into hers when his erection was more than evident through the layers of denim between them. He only responded to what she gave him with the control of a man who could savor her kiss. A man who wanted to make her fall in love. And if she hadn’t signed on to play his game, she would have completely let herself go.

  Chapter 8

  Rebecca smoothed her blouse and glanced down at her jeans. “Are you sure I’m okay dressed like this?” she asked.

  Gavin paused on the steps leading up to an old ranch house that had been converted into a restaurant. Lanterns flickered on the porch, and bushes loaded with white roses scented the air. Her shoulders relaxed beneath his hands but her lungs rebelled. Since the tree house, he had grabbed every opportunity to kiss her, and the slightest indication that he might do it again left her breathless.

  “You’re gorgeous,” he said, moving closer, lowering his head to hers. His lips erased the worry from her mind and took every other rational thought from her.

  “Gavin…” she said as he pulled away.

  “Hmm?”

  She wanted the heat of his body on her, all over her. Pretending wouldn’t be enough anymore. She pressed her breasts into his chest and took his mouth again, demanding he let her set the pace this time.

  “As nice as this is,” he said steadily, “I’d better take you in.”

  “Before we go in there, I want to know, is this something you do with guests regularly? Or sometimes? Or is this really a date?” She didn’t take her eyes off his, watching for the slightest indication of dishonesty.

  “I’ve never left the ranch with a guest, unless I was taking her to the airport.” He looked directly at her when he said it, and there was nothing in his gaze that reflected anything but truth. “Now, I want you to do something for me.”

  She raised her brows. Waiting.

  “Don’t think about the game. Just let me take you out. Forget all about the ranch. Pretend we met somewhere else, anywhere at all.”

  “So you want me to go on a real date with you and forget that it’s your job to try and make me fall in love?”

  “Tonight I’m not at work and I don’t want to make you do anything,” he said.

  In the tree fort, her nerves had completely vanished, but now they were back with a vengeance. In theory, everything was perfect. Gavin was taking her out. She didn’t know a single man she’d rather be going on a date with, but this was still very new territory. Frightening territory. Unless, of course, this was just part of the game and he was too good a player to admit it.

  She laced her fingers through his. The feel of their body intertwined and his skin pressed so close to hers filled one desperate need and opened an even more desperate one. She loved his touch, and now that she had been reminded what companionship felt like, living without it would be that much harder.

  She may as well enjoy the evening, she would be catching hell soon enough. Melinda had left a message, but she hadn’t taken the time to return her call. Or more precisely, she didn’t want to hear all the reasons she shouldn’t leave the ranch with Gavin.

  The lights inside the restaurant were dim, but beyond the hostess podium it was easy to see all the men wore jeans and the women were dressed considerably better. Rebecca glanced down at her jeans again. At least they were stylish, not standard issue cowgirl, but a pair of heels would have done a lot more for her than the boots she had on. Gavin wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her temple.

  His voice was low in her ear. “Not a woman in here looks half as good as you do.”

  “I should’ve worn my dress.” The temperature had dropped even lower after the rain, and her cotton sundress hadn’t seemed like a reasonable option at the ranch. They had stopped at a sporting goods store on the way to the restaurant, but the blouse she’d worn all week was far more suitable for dinner than anything Nike designed.

  “You’d be freezing and I’d be forced to do all kinds of things to keep you warm.”

  “I definitely should have worn the dress.” She winked at him and moved closer. Would she really be this comfortable with other men, or did she just feel safe with Gavin because he was temporary? Her time with him would expire before the milk in her refrigerator back home. Best of all, the end of what they shared had a predetermined date. There wouldn’t be any surprises, no traumatic endings. No tears.

  The maitre d’ led them to a set of French doors at the back of the restaurant and escorted them onto a wide plank deck. Space heaters were tucked discreetly into the railing. Gas lamps flickered on all the tables and lanterns were strung along the back of the restaurant, but the most impressive light was the full moon reflected on the lake beyond the deck.

  “Wow,” Rebecca said. “For a man who doesn’t date much, you know how to impress a lady. I was getting worried after you took me to the sporting goods store.”

  He pretended to be stung by her lack of confidence, but recovered with a smile. “I’m glad you like it. And I promise you’ll thank me for taking the sporting goods detour when you tackle that rock face tomorrow. I don’t think your boots would’ve gotten you very far, and shorts will work much better than jeans.” He held her chair out, took a seat across the table and ordered a bottle of wine. The same kind they’d stolen from Garrett.

  “Any of these cowboys here work at the ranch?” she asked.

  “This place has nothing to do with the ranch. This isn’t part of the game that we’re not playing.”


  “Sorry. You’ve really never brought another guest here?”

  “Never even considered it. What do I have to do to convince you this is a real date?” He held her hand across the table and ran his thumb over the ridges of her knuckles and the delicate skin in between.

  “Club me over the head I guess.”

  An odd expression skewed his features and he laughed. Ripples on the lake lapped the moonlight as the server poured wine into their glasses. That first dinner in the loft seemed so long ago. Were women really so easy to manipulate that a week could have them thinking thoughts of forever, even when they were under contract and direct threat to walk away and never look back when the time was up?

  “Have you ever had a woman not fall in love with you?”

  “No more ranch questions.”

  “Just answer that one,” she said, sipping her wine. “Please.”

  “Nobody really falls in love at the ranch. It’s just a game.”

  “That we’re not playing?”

  “That we’re not playing.”

  * * * *

  “I don’t want this to end,” she said as he unlocked his truck outside the restaurant, their shadows stretching in front of them.

  He reached for her again. “I don’t either.”

  The driver’s door was cold along her back, but his body against hers was more intoxicating than the wine and more breathtaking than the moonlight on the lake.

  She held him, fighting tremors of pleasure every time his thigh brushed against hers or her breasts touched his chest. His gaze had an openness that completely rattled her. If this wasn’t a real date, the man deserved an Oscar.

  The heat of his body burned through his clothes, and Rebecca edged nearer still, craving his warmth, the movement of his muscles, everything about him. Neither of them spoke.

  His heart thumped beneath her hand. She needed the familiarity of his touch deeper than she had felt it before. And now she knew for certain, what she had started to fear, she longed for him, Gavin Carter. Not just a man. One particular man.

  “I’m not going to feel like this with anyone else am I?” Her emotions were thick on her voice and her heart pounded so loudly he could probably hear it.

  His eyes were full of something Rebecca hadn’t seen in them before. Not just lust. Not just need. Something that told her she wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to be with anyone else.

  He moved closer, close enough that their hips pressed together. Rebecca closed the tiny gap between them and lifted her face to his, the current of his kiss raced through her, curling her toes inside her boots. If he felt what she was feeling they really weren’t playing, and the implications that surfaced were better left buried. All she wanted to do right then was lose herself in Gavin, follow him as far as he’d let her go.

  Their lips had barely parted when his mouth curled into a playful smile and he asked, “Does this mean you’re going to fall in love with me?” Victory danced in his eyes.

  “Do you give yourself a bonus if I do?” Her anger barreled out of her with as much force as every other emotion that had whipped through her. She was a fool. “Thanks for reminding me.” She held her voice as even as she could, not leaving room for the slightest quiver to betray how weak she’d let herself become. “I’d forgotten how well you could lie. How not playing the game is how you play the game best.” She gulped the cold air and clenched her hands at her sides before he could see how badly they were shaking. She was so angry at herself for believing so earnestly in something that was never meant to be real.

  His jaw settled into a firm line and he pulled back putting enough distance between them to make room for a new kind of tension, one that had nothing to do with passion.

  “I haven’t lied to you, but trying to convince you of that’s like banging my head against a brick wall.” He opened the door. She climbed in and scooted to the window on the other side. The seat seemed to stretch a mile between them.

  Neither spoke until he pulled to a stop in front of the Fantasy Ranch gates and turned to her before driving onto the property. She should let the anger fall away. It was better that he reminded her of the game. It would have been cruel to let her completely forget. But he had made her forget, so completely. Purposely.

  She was exhausted from the emotional yo-yo she’d been playing all week. No matter how many times she reminded herself everything that happened at the ranch was part of a game, she’d let it all become real in her mind. And in her heart.

  “I’m jealous of you,” she said, reaching for her sharpest weapon. Painful truth. “I wish I could wear my emotions beneath a hat and pull them out when they suited me.”

  The glow of the dashboard lit his face, but masked his eyes, making it impossible to read the impact of her words. He stiffened in defense. She expected his retaliation. Readied for it. Anticipated her own cutting response. He passed his hat to her, bottom up. She stared into the empty black hole and then straight at Gavin.

  “There’s nothing in the hat,” he said. “But keep it, maybe you’ll find something in there I haven’t.” His words were hard.

  She glared at the perfectly sized Stetson he held between them and realized he didn’t hold onto much. He’d hand anything over, if it was easier to just let it go. His control of the game. His sweatshirt. His hat. This argument.

  “I don’t want it,” she said, shoving the hat away. “Do you always give up this easily?” Even as she bit into him with the words, she knew they weren’t true, or at least they hadn’t always been true. He had accomplished too much, been too competitive when he was younger to walk away without a fight. He didn’t grow up in Podunk, Wyoming and run off to Harvard on a whim. He didn’t work his way through graduate studies at a top university without sticking out the tough times. He didn’t take a ranch out of the hands of the bank and risk everything he had on a wild idea nobody would ever believe could work, only to prove them wrong. He didn’t risk everything he’d worked for because he was attracted to her when there were undoubtedly countless women who would jump in bed with him. She was wrong about him. And she’d been a bitch.

  “Some things aren’t worth fighting for,” he said. “And I can’t…I won’t even try to wrestle feelings out of you.” Now he was angry and righteous. She had pushed his hot button without realizing how combustible the reaction would be, and it was too late to take back what she’d said. “Keep denying you don’t know what goes on between us.” His voice had an eerie guarded calm, but beneath it boiled a fury she could feel in the hot air that vibrated between them. “Act like you don’t light up like the Fourth of July every time we touch. Pretend you can’t handle it if we make love. Do whatever it is that allows you to sleep at night. But I’m out. I’m not doing this anymore. Garrett will make flight arrangements for you to leave tomorrow.”

  “Real love doesn’t have a contract, and it doesn’t cost a dime,” she said evenly, her gaze fixed on the darkness surrounding them. A heavy weight descended on her chest. Games should have simple rules. The boundaries should be well drawn. The objectives clear and obtainable. This game had none of those things, and right now there was nothing fun about it.

  * * * *

  Sex didn’t need strings. Gavin had had plenty of memorable sex with nothing attached to it but the moment. The trouble came when you got yourself tied up with someone before you got to the good part. Then, more than the sheets got tangled. The mess he’d made of things with Rebecca was wound so tight around him it was choking his ability to reason. Maybe if he just took her to bed, good and proper, they could unfuck the mess they were in. Wishful thinking. Good try, little brain.

  He rounded the corral, his hand following the fence and his eyes on the late night sky. The smooth wood was familiar beneath his palm. He needed familiar, tangible. Life as he knew it had been slipping away all week. He couldn’t seem to hold onto anything. And now the reason he couldn’t keep a grip was leaving, too. Fine. It was better to let her go. There was only one way for something
as strong as the attraction he had for her to end, and that was bad. Real bad. He didn’t need it. And she sure as hell didn’t either.

  He turned the corner of the barn and heard her before he saw her. She was in the hot tub. Her eyes were closed, her head back, and though he couldn’t see them, he guessed her hands were exactly where he’d have his if he was in there with her, slipping between slick folds of flesh and into her, so far into her the thought of it made his neck tighten and his teeth clamp down. There was only one place he had ever really needed to be and he couldn’t get there fast enough. But he stopped short of climbing in with her.

  She hadn’t invited him. They weren’t even speaking. It would have helped to remember that before he let his dick take control of his legs.

  Her breasts rose up out of the swirling water. She arched her back, lifting herself higher before she dunked down again. He should have turned away, but he moved closer. He could barely breathe. There was no holding back now. He didn’t have it in him. He was hard enough to break himself in half, and longing pulled at his gut with a firmer tug than he’d ever felt before. A second later he was sitting on the edge of the hot tub. Her eyes opened, but he couldn’t tell if she’d seen him. She didn’t stop what she was doing. She kept right on, taking herself closer to the place he wanted to take her. The place he wanted to go with her. The need to drive himself home bore into his core.

  He should have said something, made sure she knew he was there, but his throat was clamped too tight to make a sound. He reached for her. Her moans entered him, ran through him like liquid fire, and pushed his erection further. His skin grew so tight, he burned from the stretch.

  He was within an inch of making contact when she arched up out of the water again, cried out once and then sank beneath the surface, letting herself slip completely under.

  She came up, her hair clinging to her head, and her eyes fell directly on him. His blood rushed through every vein, some more than others. The woman he needed more than any woman he’d ever known was all but within reach. His heart pounded in his chest. She had to be able to see how hard he was breathing, how much he wanted her. She had to believe he wasn’t playing any lame ass game, and she had to admit she wanted him too.