Win Me Over

by Heather Slade

Tristan felt the heat in her cheeks once again. At this rate she’d spend the entire week in a state of embarrassment.

  “I’m ready. What about you, Bullet?”

  “I’m famished.”

  Tristan met his gaze. It was obvious he wasn’t talking about dinner.

  “Shall we, then?”

  “You have your pick of tables,” said Piper.

  Bullet took her hand and led her to a table by the front window. “How’s this?”

  “It’s perfect.”

  Bullet held her chair for her to sit.

  iper placed an appetizer plate in front of her, and then set the other across the table. Bullet picked it up and brought it next to her instead. “Don’t mind if I sit next to you, do you? I want to be as close as I can.”

  He ran his fingers up and down her bare arm. She closed her eyes and concentrated on his touch. He leaned closer and kissed her shoulder.

  “I thought you were famished.”

  “I am. And you know what I meant, don’t pretend you don’t. You’re famished too, I can feel it.”

  Chill bumps covered her arms, and she trembled under his touch. There would be no pretending with Bullet. He read her perfectly.

  “Seriously, you must be starving.”

  “Uh huh,” he murmured, his teeth gently grazing the skin on her shoulder.

  Piper approached their table with a bottle of wine in hand. “I can bring dinner to your cabins. Or cabin, if you’d prefer.”

  “No,” gasped Tristan. “We’re, uh, fine.”

  “Would you like a glass of wine? It’s a Chardonnay, but if you’d prefer something else—”

  “No, that’s fine.” Why did she keep saying everything was fine? “It’s perfect, thank you.” Tristan held her glass out for Piper to pour.

  “Sir, would you like some wine?”

  “I’ll have whatever the lady is having,” he answered.

  Tristan could feel his gaze on her. She doubted he’d even looked at Piper.

  “Enjoy your first course. Pear and goat cheese on crostini with fig confit, in case you were wondering.”

  “Mmm,” Bullet moaned. “It sounds amazing. Thank you, Piper.”

  He was using that tone of voice again, the one she’d heard him use with the filly. When Bullet talked that way, women seemed to melt around him. Tristan didn’t miss the way Piper’s cheeks turned pink the same way hers had.

  Bullet lifted his crostini to her lips. “Take a bite.”

  “Don’t you want it?”

  “Sure, I do. We’re gonna share.”

  Tristan took a bite. Bullet popped the other half in his mouth. “Your turn,” he said.

  She lifted her crostini to his lips, and instead of taking a small bite as she had, he took the whole thing, his mouth catching her fingers as he did.

  “Hey, that isn’t fair.”

  “I take what I want, Tristan. That’s meant as a warning.” His deep voice reverberated through her. Her breath quickened as he continued to trail a finger softly down the length of her arm. When he reached her hand, he clasped it and brought it to his mouth. He licked each finger where she’d held the crostini. “I don’t know which tastes better. I think it’s you,” he murmured. “And I want more. A lot more.”

  1968

  Bill sat at the table and waited for Clancy to continue. Instead of talking, Clancy stood, went to the refrigerator, and took out a beer. “Want one?”

  Bill didn’t drink often, but cowboys didn’t pay much attention to him bein’ underage. This was the first time Clancy had offered him one at home, though.

  “Sure.” He tried to sound nonchalant, while inside, he wanted to scream at Clancy to tell him what was going on with his mama. Maybe that’s why he offered him a beer, to calm him down some.

  “You remember the first time we met Russ, right?”

  Bill nodded.

  “Neither of us had a good feeling about that man. And we were right.”

  “What did he do to her?” Bill felt as though the top of his head was going to blow off. His anger had reached a boiling point. If that man had laid a hand on his mama, he’d kill him.

  “It isn’t what you’re thinkin’. What he did brought more trouble on himself than it did on your mama and sister.”

  “Just tell me, for Christ’s sake.” Bill stood and paced the kitchen floor.

  “The first time I was called down there, was because Russ ended up in jail, and your mama asked me to come and bail him out. She didn’t have the money to do it.”

  “What was he in for?”

  “He got into it with some fellas he was playing cards with. That’s the root of the problem right there. Russ Snyder is a gambler.”

  “You get arrested for that?”

  “Nah, but you do get arrested for assault. When he gambles, he drinks. Drinkin’ is what brings on the violence.”

  Bill set his beer on the counter. Just the thought of it was turning his stomach. “What did you have to do?”

  “I got him out of jail and got him a lawyer. The lawyer got him off for time served and probation. Russ promised your mama he’d quit gamblin’, but it wasn’t six months before a friend of your mama called me again.”

  “What happened then?”

  “Pretty much the same thing, only this time your mama was too ashamed to call me. When I got there, I talked some sense into her. The next time it happened, she called me herself.”

  “How many times?” Bill was trying to remember how many times Clancy had left the ranch with no explanation.

  “All together, it happened six times. Not every circumstance was the same. A couple of times, he left for several days, and your mama had no idea how to find him. She was afraid he was gonna turn up dead.”

  “Did you have to bail him out each time?” Bill couldn’t believe his mama would rely on Clancy that way. It wasn’t up to him to give her money. Bill had savings. He could’ve helped.

  “What happened to what we’ve been sendin’ her? Does he take it from her?” Bill was spitting mad at the thought that his hard-earned money was being gambled away. It was for his mama and sister, not for Mr. Snyder.

  “He doesn’t know about that money, somehow she’s managed to hide it from him. And she refused to use it to bail him out. After the first time, I wouldn’t bail him out either, and she didn’t want me to. I figured spendin’ a few nights in jail might scare him enough to quit.”

  “What took her so long to divorce him?” This didn’t sound like his mama. Before his daddy died, and the whole while he was sick, his mama had managed things all on her own.

  “Well…that’s complicated. Each time, he promised it would never happen again. And she loves him, or at least she did. Sometimes you wanna believe the best about someone you love, even though they keep provin’ themselves unworthy.”

  “What’s gonna happen to my mama and my sister? I have money saved up. I can get them a place in McCoy. Maybe she could find a job here.”

  Clancy rubbed his face with his hands. “No, son, your mama owns the house in Colorado Springs now.”

  “I don’t understand. Whose house? Mr. Snyder’s?”

  Clancy nodded. “The last time Russ got into trouble, it was bigger than before. And this time, they weren’t just threatening him. They were comin’ after your mama.”

  Bill felt the blood drain from his face. “What’d you do?” He could barely get the words out.

  “I paid the money he owed, but only after he signed the deed to the house over to your mama. Then I gave him the money to get the hell out of town. I told him, if he showed his face around again, I’d be waitin’ with a shotgun.”

  Bill slunk down into his chair. All this time, he’d been working the ranch, riding bulls and broncs, writing letters to Dottie, and not worrying about his mama at all. He was a terrible son.

  “Your mama and sister are comin’ to your graduation, Bill. Once we get you settled at Western State, I’ll be leaving the ranch.”

  �
�What? I don’t understand.” Why would Clancy leave the ranch? If this had something to do with his family, Bill would never forgive himself.

  Clancy leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “I made your daddy a promise that I would look out for his family after he passed. I haven’t been doin’ too good a job of it.”

  Bill hesitated. Clancy couldn’t give up his share of the ranch because of a promise he’d made his daddy. He had his own life to live. No, that wouldn’t be the way it would go. Instead of Clancy going to live with his mama and sister, he’d go. If he could get into Western State, there had to be a college near Colorado Springs he could get into. It hurt his heart to think he wouldn’t be attending college with Dottie, but his heart hurt more knowing he hadn’t been there when his mama needed him.

  The other thing it meant was that it was time to give up rodeo. He was at a crossroad. If he went one direction, he’d continue living life as a selfish ingrate. If he went the other way, he knew in his heart he’d be doing the right thing.

  “I’ll go,” he said finally. “It’s time I started takin’ care of my family, Clancy. You’ve been better to us than anyone could ask, and I appreciate all you’ve done, but it’s time for me to take responsibility.”

  Clancy smiled. He looked different tonight. Weary, yet not stressed. “That’s the other part of the story, young Flynn. You better get yourself another beer to hear this part.”

  13

  Being alone in the dining room wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Bullet tried to keep his hands off Tristan so she could eat, but he wasn’t able to. If he wasn’t touching her, the yearning to do so overpowered his ability to resist.

  She’d lean into him, as though her body yearned for his in the same way.

  “Finished?” She’d barely set her fork down when he asked.

  She drew a deep breath, and her eyes turned hazy. “I’m either finished or just getting started, depending on how you look at it.”

  Bullet felt the blood leave the rest of his body and settle in his groin.

  “Let’s go.” He stood and held his hand out to her.

  “Do we need to let Piper know we’re leaving?”

  “I think she knows, darlin’.”

  Bullet watched the flush spread up her cheeks.

  “I’ll walk you back…”

  “I hope you plan to do more than that, Bullet.”

  Oh, he did. Much more. Starting with picking her up, tossing her over his shoulder, and running up the hill to the cabin. Instead, he held her hand, and his breath, until they reached her cabin door.

  Tristan reached for the doorknob, but couldn’t bring herself to open it. Instead she turned around. Bullet was so close, their bodies would soon fuse. Tristan stared into his eyes, and her cheeks warmed. “I want you to know, I don’t do this…”

  With a quick nod, he pressed her up against the door. “I do.” He brushed his nose against her hair and trailed kisses down to her temple, her ear, her neck.

  “Bullet, we should talk.”

  His lips found hers, and oh, God, he tasted good. He slid his hand into her hair and slanted her head, nudging her lips open. His tongue pierced deeply, as his lips devoured hers. Tristan held on to his biceps, so hard and sexy, and pressed up against the flexing muscles in his chest. She could feel her effect on him as she pressed her body closer. The idea of having him inside her made her dizzy. She gripped his arms more tightly, her fingers digging into his flesh.

  “We’ll talk later. Now open the door,” he demanded. Tristan turned her hand on the knob, and Bullet turned her into the cabin. His hand went back into her hair, clenching hard enough to hold her in a possessive embrace.

  He tugged her hair, tipping her head back to gain access to her throat. He ran his tongue down farther, tasting her skin.

  “Wait—”

  “No. No more waiting.” Bullet brought his lips back to hers and delved his tongue in deeply. He wanted to consume her. All of her.

  She groaned, igniting him further. His fingers hooked the strap of her bra through her shirt and released it in one quick motion. He slid his fingers along her buttons, releasing each as he went, until she stood before him, shirt open, bra drooping. She shimmied the shirt from her arms, and Bullet pulled her bra first off one arm then the other. He could see the outline of the curves of her breasts by the light of the moon through the window. But he wanted more.

  He pulled her toward the bed and eased her against it. “Sit for me.” He walked to the nightstand and turned the low light of the lamp on. “I want to see you.”

  He knelt on the floor, next to her, and cupped one breast with his hand. “And feel you.” Her eyes closed, and she leaned forward.

  “Look at me. Watch me,” he demanded.

  When her eyes reopened, he covered her taut nipple with his mouth. His tongue swirled around it, until it beaded. When she rested back on the bed, he followed. He ran his hand up the inside of her thigh and under her skirt. He eased her panties down and tossed them aside.

  “I want to taste you.” He teased his tongue along her inner thigh, and up, licking as he went.

  Tristan ran her fingers into his hair, holding him where he was, yet feeling as though she should stop him. She was naked; he remained fully clothed. Since the night in Crested Butte, when they’d sparred at the hot tub, she’d fantasized about seeing him naked again. She’d seen, then, but hadn’t been able to touch. Her fingers craved his body, his skin.

  He stopped, as though he sensed what she was thinking. He stood between her legs, which hung off the end of the bed, and opened the pearl snaps on his shirt in one swoop. His gaze ran over her body while his hands rested on his belt buckle.

  “Please hurry,” she gasped.

  “Oh no, I’ve imagined this too many times to hurry through it.” He leaned forward and lifted her arms over her head. “Leave them there for me, so I can see you stretched out, waiting, welcoming me into you.”

  She wanted to beg him to look later, but knew her protests would only result in him taking more time. He’d take what he wanted; that’s what he’d told her at dinner.

  “I’ve thought about this since the night in the hot tub, fantasized about having your body laid out before me, so I could look and taste my fill.”

  He knelt down again and brought her foot to rest on his shoulder. He trailed kisses from her ankle, up her calf, and to her knee. She squirmed when he reached her inner thigh. His kisses quickened, and soon he reached her apex. He took turns bringing her pleasure with his lips and fingers. “Let me take care of you, Tristan. Just relax.” He stroked into her, teasing, playing.

  “Please,” she moaned, and arched against his hand and mouth.

  “Tristan, darlin’, I’m not gonna last too long,” Bullet breathed. He’d spent too many nights imagining being inside her. Now that he was about to, he knew he wouldn’t be able to control his response. When she wrapped her long legs around his waist and her thighs tightened around his hips, he knew he couldn’t dare even move. Tristan shifted—just a slight motion with her hips—and he could feel her tighten around him. He drew in a shaky breath, covered her moan with his mouth, and let her take him with her.

  He held her there until the last of her aftershocks squeezed him. Gently, he rolled until he was under her, and still inside her. He needed to ease away from her, get up, and dispose of his condom. If she was feeling the way he was, they’d both be ready again in no time.

  Tristan had to watch closely to see the rise and fall of his chest; he slept so deeply. It was another way he was different from Harris.

  The differences showed themselves daily if not hourly. Bullet didn’t snore; Harris sounded like a chainsaw. Bullet took care of her. Everything Harris did was for himself, for his own pleasure. Until last night, Tristan had no idea the kind of pleasure Bullet had given her was possible. Over and over again, he brought her to the brink, pulled back, and then sent her soaring again. Remembering, she squeezed her thighs together—and
winced. She rolled over, and discovered more muscles that needed soothing, but all in a good way.

  Soft light filtered in through the curtains on the cabin window. It was early, she should let Bullet sleep. If she drew a warm bath, would it wake him?

  Sliding gently from the bed, she tiptoed into the luxurious bathroom, quietly closing the door behind her. Water ran softly from the far rim of the tub, like a waterfall. She shook the bath salts she found on the counter into her hand and ran it under the water in a sweeping motion. The scent of lavender and eucalyptus filled the air. Tristan took a deep breath and sank into the warm water.

  Thinking about last night, she ran her hands along the inside of her thighs. Bullet’s hands on her had been strong, yet gentle. They didn’t have sex last night; he made love to her. He took his time, soothing her with his words as he explored her body. Over and over he told her how beautiful she was, and how much he wanted her.

  Her fingers trailed up her body, and she ran her hands over her breasts. Just the skim of fingers over her nipples revealed how sore they were this morning.

  “I should be doin’ that,” Bullet whispered in her ear. “You startin’ without me this mornin’?” He covered her mouth with his and eased her lips open, his tongue playful against hers.

  “Let me in,” he breathed.

  Tristan opened her eyes and realized he meant the tub. She scooted forward, and Bullet climbed in behind her. He slid his long legs on either side of her and pulled her back into him. “Relax against me.”

  She reached over, turned the water off, and then rested her back against his chest. He put his hands on hers and brought them back to her breasts. “Now where were you when I interrupted you? Were you imagining it was me doin’ this to you?”

  He tightened his grip, and his fingers slid over hers and squeezed each of her nipples, hard. Briefly, pain from their soreness shot through her, quickly replaced with pleasure that shot down the length of her body. He released her hands, and she started to move them away.

  “Leave them there,” he demanded. “I want to watch.” She continued what he’d started, while his hands explored other parts of her body, making their way down until his fingers found her sex. She jolted when they found their target, but his strong arms, around her, kept her still. “Relax and let me take care of you.” His voice was raspy. His fingers read the subtle nuances of her body.