Dirty-Talking Cowboy

by Stacey Kennedy

  Nash ignored the dig. Instead, he regarded Shep thoughtfully. “You like this one, hmm?”

  Shep slid his gaze to Emma, who was serving a customer at the end of the bar. He was drawn to her in ways he couldn’t completely control and really didn’t want to explain. Even to him, it all seemed like a whirlwind. A week ago, he wasn’t even thinking about having a relationship, but then there she was, right in front of him. “Yeah, I like this one.”

  “Shep,” Megan called, bringing his attention toward the stage.

  One look at Emma’s blushing cheeks while she stood with Megan told him it was game time. He finished the final swig of his beer then moved to Emma, who waited for him at the side of the stage, wringing her hands in front of her, barely able to stand still.

  “Ah, darlin, why are you looking so nervous?” he asked when her reached her.

  She heaved a long sigh. “Because I know exactly what is going to happen to me on this stage.”

  He arched a brow, bringing himself into her warmth. “What’s that?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, nothing much, except for the fact that you’re going to turn me into a puddle of goo for all to see.”

  He chuckled, taking her hand.

  Once they reached the others on the stage, one of whom was Harper, Emma muttered, “God, how familiar this is.”

  Shep barked a loud laugh, enjoying himself immensely. He had plans tonight. Big plans.

  The three cowboys next to him began backing up. Shep gestured Emma back with a flick of his chin. “Go on, I must prepare to catch myself a sexy filly.”

  “Oh, dear God.” Her cheeks flushed with that same pretty pinkish hue he’d seen the very first night. It had tempted him then, and damn, did it tempt him now. Already hard, his dick twitched in his jeans when he reached down for the rope on the ground, tying the knot, making the lasso. He placed the smaller rope he would use on her wrists between his teeth, and grinned at her. The obvious tremble of her hands was his reward.

  While the cowboys next to Shep settled into place, the crowd erupted with cheers and applause. The men next to him were younger, in their early twenties, for sure. Shep stayed focused on Emma, on the heat building in her dilated pupils. He dragged the rope through his fingers, watching her gaze following his every move, her teeth working her bottom lip. Damn right, he teased her, punishing her for the way she’d teased him for the last hour.

  When they were all in position, the ropes ready to catch the waiting women, Megan yelled into the microphone, “Cowboys, rope your ladies.”

  Shep hesitated, and in that hesitation, Emma’s brows came together, head cocked. He gave her a smile, showing her that he had a plan. When he saw the rope slide over the woman to Emma’s right, he sent his rope soaring toward Emma. In the second the rope grazed over her shoulders, he yanked it tight, pulling it into him. Now he acted swiftly, using the rope from his mouth to bind her wrists behind her until he had her trapped. He inhaled her flowery perfume, groaning against how good she smelled, how amazing she felt against him.

  Within the tight binding, he sensed Emma soften, becoming further aroused. She leaned against him, her bottom rubbing against his cock. It became increasingly hard to focus, but he paused again, waiting until the guy next to him threw his hands up, declaring himself the winner before Shep finished tying the knot on her wrist.

  Emma turned her head slightly and said, “You just threw the game. I thought you said you hate to lose.”

  “I do,” he said against her ear. “I also don’t plan on losing tonight.”

  The crowd exploded around them, moving closer to the stage, while Megan began talking into the microphone, declaring the other couple the winner. In that moment of distraction, Shep acted, putting his plan into motion. He grasped Emma’s bound wrists, leading her backward off the stage toward the men’s single bathroom. He had her inside, the door locked and her chest pressed against the door, in a few short seconds. Maybe some people might have noticed; he didn’t care, and he knew they wouldn’t say a word to him about it.

  “Like I said, I have no intention on losing. While they’re all busy out there,” he told Emma, reaching around to the front of her shorts, “paying attention to the game, I’m scoring huge.” He wiggled her shorts and panties down to her knees, baring her perfect ass to him. “You’ve been teasing me tonight.” He reached for the condom he’d placed in his back pocket for easy access. Once he sent his jeans and boxer briefs to his boots, he applied the condom. “You’ve spent the last hour tempting me. Haven’t you, Emma?”

  “Yes,” she rasped.

  “Then let this be your lesson about what happens when you play with me.” He threaded his fingers into her hair and growled in her ear, “I will not wait.” He turned her head so she could see herself in the bathroom mirror above the sink, along with the bindings at her back. He pressed against her head, pinning her to the door, showing her that he was in control, and that she was all his for the taking. “Tell me you want this.”

  “I want you.”

  He entered her, her cheeks flushing bright pink, eyes going wide, mouth forming a perfect O.

  His cock strained while her tight inner walls hugged him, and he groaned at how wet she was, her arousal spreading onto his sack with only a few strokes. She moaned, and while he felt lost in the intensity she brought out in him, he didn’t want to get her fired. He moved his hand to her mouth, placing his fingers atop her lips, keeping her quiet. With his free hand he grabbed her hip and did what he’d wanted to do for an hour now. He thrust his hips hard and fast, bringing them high into pleasure, quickly and forcefully, muting her moans with his hand, until he set a rhythm that she wouldn’t be able to ignore, nor could he.

  There was nothing sensual about this. Their sex was raw, rough, and primal, and he gave it to her like he used her for his pleasure. And she liked it. He saw that right away. She melted into his roughness, becoming wetter, rising into her climax quickly.

  Seconds became minutes, and those minutes quickened his thrusts, until his pelvis smacked against her ass hard and her inner walls tightened like a vise around his shaft. He caught her moans in his hand, and when she finally broke apart, her clenching pussy took him over the edge with her. Heat roared down his spine until he was bucking and jerking his orgasm, grunting and riding the pleasure alongside her.

  In those exhausting seconds after his climax released him, he played up this game between them further. She liked being manhandled a little. Now that he knew that, he’d give her a full taste of that fantasy.

  As quickly as he’d undressed her and fucked her, he had her soaking wet panties and shorts back in place, and the rope removed from her wrists. Breathless, he turned her to him, finding her face flushed with the lingering effects of her orgasms. Christ, she looked well-fucked, and it was a look he was growing fonder of each time he saw it. He settled the hair around her face, gave her one last once-over, making sure everything was in place, then grinned. “Now, darlin’, stop teasing me, and get back to work.”

  Her cheeks burned. “I cannot go out there. I’m going to get fired.”

  “You won’t if you get back out there.” It’d only been a handful of minutes since he’d gotten her into the bathroom. Megan would still be on stage, keeping the crowd engrossed.

  He spun her around, opened the door, and smacked her ass on the way out.

  Before he could shut the door, she turned. “You do realize that all this did was ensure that I tease you again.”

  He gave a knowing grin and winked. “And that, darlin’, is exactly the point.” Then, with her sexy smile lingering in his mind, he shut the door on this fantasy.

  * * *

  The crowd began thinning out ten minutes ago, closing time was only an hour away now, and Emma’s body would be glad for it. So maybe she wasn’t in tip-top shape. Her panties were still uncomfortably wet. Everything hurt from her head right down to her toes. Exhaustion pressed down on her eyelids. She’d happily give anything right now fo
r her pillow.

  When last call came and then went, Emma finally got the break she needed and made a beeline for the bathroom. After she finished up she came back out, finding herself face-to-face with a woman she’d never met before. Something about the blond bombshell—with the big tits and tiny miniskirt—didn’t seem particularly friendly.

  When Blondie broke the silence, she asked, “So, you’re the next Blackshaw conquest, huh?”

  Emma blinked. “Excuse me?”

  Obvious venom lived in the depths of Blondie’s blue eyes. “Listen, you seem really nice, so let me give you a piece of advice: Stay away from them. Every single Blackshaw brother is trouble. They’ll give you nothing but heartbreak.”

  Emma’s glanced over Blondie’s shoulder, finding Shep at the bar. He was laughing at something Nash was saying. “The advice isn’t necessary,” she said to Blondie. “I’m not dating Shep.”

  The woman laughed, giving her the most condescending look. “Oh, honey, no one dates a Blackshaw. Those men don’t love women; they fuck ’em and leave ’em.”

  Emma’s throat tightened, even though she knew she shouldn’t listen to this woman. She scanned the crowd, suddenly realizing that to everyone here, she and Shep were dating, or at least they’d think she was sleeping with him. Which, of course, she was, but everything had been so natural, she supposed she hadn’t thought about what that all meant, or how others would perceive their relationship. “Thanks for the warning.” Emma forced a smile. “But you’ve got the wrong idea. Shep’s been nothing but a gentleman, and we’re just friends.”

  The girl snorted and quipped, “Keep telling yourself that, honey.”

  Emma’s lips parted to give some witty reply she couldn’t think of quite yet, but the words burned in her throat. She was doing what she swore she wouldn’t do again. Dating a guy with a reputation of having commitment issues, which apparently Shep had ever since Sara. And she was about to defend his actions. Obviously, he’d hurt Blondie. Emma recognized the anger in the woman’s eyes, because she’d seen it in hers, staring back at her in a mirror after Jake.

  How had she let this happen . . . again?

  Needing desperately to get away, Emma said nothing more to Blondie, hurrying back to the bar. She caught Chase’s gaze, and he was watching her closely, a frown marring his face. Emma tried to force a smile but guessed she failed miserably. Suddenly, though, her skin flushed and heart raced. She needed to get out of there. Now.

  She rushed over to Megan, standing at the cash register. “Is it okay if I take a quick break before helping you close?”

  “Go for it,” Megan said, closing the till. “We’ll be shutting things down in a few.”

  “Great. Be back soon,” Emma managed to choke out. She hastily moved through the bar and made it outside not a second later.

  Standing under the bright-pink neon Kinky Spurs sign on Main Street, she drew in a big, deep breath of fresh air, trying to fight off the rising panic. Ever since the accident with Bentley, she’d been in a world of all her own, where Shep made everything brighter. More vivid, even. God, could she be letting the exact same thing happen all over again? Was she simply following where he guided her without even questioning if it was the right thing for her to do? Wasn’t a woman supposed to learn from her mistakes, not repeat them?

  “Emma.”

  She sighed and glanced over her shoulder, finding Shep frowning at her. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  Oh, I’m just doing the same fucking thing all over again. “Nothing.” She forced another smile, needing to think this out herself, not wanting to be influenced by him. “I needed some air.”

  “Don’t start lying now, darlin’.” He moved in front of her, tucking a finger in her chin, bringing her gaze right to his. “Something’s wrong. I know that because of the look on your face right now. What happened?”

  She shook her head, pulling away, hugging herself. This was less about what Blondie had said, and more about herself. God, what in the fuck was she doing? Her heart still hurt, bleeding from the damage Jake had caused. “No, really, it’s nothing.”

  Shep narrowed his eyes. He dropped his hand from her chin, shoving both hands into his pockets. “Chase told me that Vicki said something to you. What did she say?”

  “Nothing.” Please go. I need to think.

  Shep’s nostrils flared, eyebrow arched. “Emma, let me make this perfectly clear to you. If you do not tell me right now what she told you to upset you like this, I’m going to pull Vicki aside and make a scene. There is no situation where I do not find out what’s going on.”

  Stuck between Shep and no way out, Emma drew in a long deep breath. “She said that you liked your ladies, is all.” His narrowed eyes turned to slits. Emma hurried along. “It’s not something I haven’t heard before. You and your brothers have a reputation of being good with women, and that’s okay.” A vein in the middle of his forehead began to protrude. She threw up her hands in defeat. “Oh, my God, none of this is coming out right at all. Listen, you don’t need to say anything. You’re you”—she waved over him—“with all that sexiness, and you’re kinda perfect, really, so of course other ladies want you, and you might want them.” Dear God, why wasn’t she shutting up? “I’m not jealous or anything.” You totally sound jealous, you idiot. She slapped her hand over her mouth, then sighed, dropping her hand. “I’m going to shut up now.”

  The intensity in his expression never wavered. He dipped his chin, bringing his eyes level with hers. “Be jealous, Emma, because don’t kid yourself. If any man in there dared to touch you, I would not only be jealous, I’d knock them flat on their ass.” He paused, and she reeled in that bit of truth before he added, “Have I fucked women who were in this bar tonight? Yes. Three of them.”

  She parted her lips to say he didn’t need to explain, but he cut her off, continuing, “Did I care about them? Not in the least. Does that make me an asshole? Maybe to some it might. But I’ve never set out to hurt anyone, and if we did sleep together, it was a mutual decision. Never, not once, have I ever promised them anything after, nor did they stay in my bed, or in my arms until the next morning.”

  Confused, wary, and everything in between, Emma stared at him. After all the lies with Jake, Shep’s honesty was refreshing. That’s what kept getting her caught up. He had this way of making everything okay when everything was wrong. “What are we doing, Shep?” she asked, speaking her mind.

  The air between them sizzled when he closed the distance, bringing the strength of his body against hers. The power of his touch rippled through her as he cupped her face. “Whatever the hell you want to be doing, Emma, because I want to keep seeing you.” He paused, his eyes finally softening, as did his voice. “I understand being with me is scary for you. I get that. But what we have, and what you and Jake had, is different. I am different than him.”

  “Are you?” That was the answer she didn’t know.

  “You fucking bet I am.” Back came his stormy look, removing the usual warmth found in his expression. He brought his mouth close to hers. “That is the first and last time I will ever say it, too. One time, Emma. Only one time will I say that I have no intention of giving you up. That I’ll fight like hell to keep seeing you, because I think there is something special here between us. One time that I will ever explain that I am not like the bastard who treated you like you were something to throw away.” He tightened his hands around her face, his voice growing thick with emotion. “You said you needed time to think this all through. Take the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

  For now . . . echoed around her.

  Even she knew a man like Shep could only stand dealing with another man’s baggage for so long. “I’m sorry . . .” She tried to backtrack. “I know you’re not like him.”

  His brows drew together with his frown. “You need to be real and honest with yourself. You might want to think that I’m not like Jake”—he leaned in and pressed a hard kiss to her forehead—“but you don�
�t believe that I’m not like him, not truly, and that’s the problem.”

  His mouth dragged across her forehead, leaving a cold void when he walked away.

  She stared after him walking down Main Street, leaving her alone with her thoughts and with all the things she didn’t say.

  Chapter 11

  Shep woke the next morning regretting that Emma wasn’t in his arms. His bed seemed empty without her, though duty called. He hadn’t been into his office since Emma’s accident. While the next contract with the army didn’t start for another two weeks, he had a pile of paperwork waiting for him on his desk, or so his receptionist had told him this morning through a text message.

  Armed with two coffees he grabbed on the way, he drove the fifteen minutes from his house to Blackshaw Survival, pulling into the circular driveway at a little before nine o’clock in the morning. When he stopped next to the old stone farmhouse he’d converted into his offices, he found only one black car parked in the small parking lot. Not a surprise. When the government contract ended Shep gave his guys time off, and no one came into the office during that time. Surviving for a week in the wilderness with only the food you can gather from hunting and scouring the ground for mushrooms, leafy greens, and berries left their bodies in need of a break to strengthen again.

  At one time, Shep had always gone with his team. He loved the game and the challenge. Now most of his days were planning for new contracts and holding up the business end of Blackshaw Survival. He missed the days out in the field, but he enjoyed controlling the helm of his company too much to allow anyone else to step in for him.

  With a sigh, he turned off the ignition, staring out at the land belonging to his father. He’d gifted Shep the farmhouse and the land when he’d first spoken of opening his company after he moved home from Los Angeles. Without that gift, there was no way Shep would’ve gotten his business off the ground so quickly, especially since his father’s connections were what had led to the government contracts. Sure, Shep had made a good name for himself, but the Blackshaw name held power and connections with politicians in Colorado. Dad knew important people, and knowing those people had helped Shep over the years. Which only reminded him that he didn’t want his father’s legacy to burn to ashes.