Texas Fire

by Kimberly Raye

  Charlene forced her gaze away from the clock for the umpteenth time and tried to ignore the disappointment that rushed through her. Had he been turned off last night?Her mind rushed back to the striptease and then fast-forwarded through all that had followed. All of the kissing and touching. The panting and groaning. Hers and his.

  But what stood out in her mind more than anything was the kiss on her doorstep. She’d expected fierce and urgent after the night they’d had. Instead, it had been slow and so sweet she’d actually wanted to cry.

  Then again, her toes had been aching something fierce after wearing those new cowboy boots and so she knew her silly reaction had undoubtedly been because she’d been so relieved at the prospect of soaking her tootsies in a nice, warm bath.

  It wasn’t like she’d actually been sorry to see him go.

  She forced her attention back to the case file for the sheriff and concentrated on making her notes on the session they’d just finished. His last session. He’d brought in his gift for his wife, and Charlene had given him a huge smile, a thumbs-up and a discharge.

  After dozens of years of marriage, and as many bad, thoughtless gifts, the man had finally gotten it right. He’d bought an ornate wooden picture frame that fit three 5x7 pictures, the words I loved you yesterday, I love you today and I’ll love you tomorrow engraved across the top. The right slot held a black and white photo of them playing golf on their honeymoon. The middle picture depicted them sitting in a golf cart out at the Romeo Country Club. The third spot was blank, waiting for the tomorrow just as the engraving promised.

  Love.

  The word lingered in Charlene’s head. They loved each other, all right. And why not? They’d had plenty to fall in love with. They both lived to golf. The sheriff had also told her they enjoyed playing bingo together and tending their vegetable garden. It only made sense that they would be attracted to each other, in love with each other. They were soul mates obviously.

  What didn’t make sense was her attraction to Mason.

  Not that she needed to worry about it now. Obviously, the lust had already started to fizzle. Just as she’d predicted. Otherwise, he would have called her. Why, it was already four fifteen…

  The thought trailed off as she caught herself glancing at the clock again. She shook her head, finished the last of her notes and opened her bottom drawer to retrieve a Closed File sticker. She’d just grabbed the box, when her gaze snagged on the latest addition to her how-to collection.

  So much for actually putting the darned thing to use. She’d done her best rodeo queen imitation, boots and all, and Mason obviously hadn’t been that impressed. So much for the whole physical attraction theory.

  She slammed the drawer shut, straightened her desk and retrieved her briefcase.

  “I’m done for the day,” she told Marge as she walked past her desk.

  Marge arched an eyebrow as if to say already?, but she didn’t open her mouth. Thankfully. Charlene needed to go home, crawl into her sweats and eat herself into a Happy Camper cookie coma before she did something really stupid.

  Like call Mason.

  Or worse, cry.

  She had absolutely no reason to cry. Her feet were on the mend.

  Unlike her ego.

  She ignored the last thought, walked out into the hot afternoon heat and straight into Mason McGraw.

  “What are you doing here?” she blurted, trying to catch her breath after walking head on into so much hard muscle.

  Mason didn’t give her the chance.

  His arms slid around her and he hauled her even closer. “Nice to see you, too, sugar.” He planted a kiss on her lips that was slow, thorough, sweet.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he said before she could voice the question that had nagged her all day. “Somebody drove a car through our back fence. Nobody got hurt, but the barbed wire got all ripped up. Naturally, one of the calves got caught in it, which made a bad situation that much worse.”

  As soon as he said the words, she noted the cut on his cheek. “It looks like you got caught in it, too.”

  He shrugged. “I had to cut the calf loose.”

  Something teased her nostrils and she eyed him. “You came straight over here, didn’t you?”

  “I smell that bad?”

  “Not exactly bad. Just different.” Her nose wrinkled. “Okay, so maybe bad is a better adjective.”

  “I’m surprised you noticed, what with you being from the yuppie side of town and all.”

  “I’ve driven close enough to the city limits to know what a cow smells like.”

  “A woman who gets around. I like that.” His green eyes twinkled. “So what are you doing tonight?”

  “What are you doing tonight?”

  He grinned and her heart stalled. “Helping you with the transformation. You got the moves down pat, but I still think you need a little work on the attitude.”

  “And here I thought I pretty much aced that aspect.”

  There was just something about the way he looked at her that made her feel as wild and as beautiful and as daring as she’d always wanted to be. And while she knew it was just an illusion caused by the lust that burned so fiercely between them, she couldn’t help but embrace the feeling and go with it.

  For now.

  “I felt like stripping and so I did,” she continued. “I felt like turning my fantasy into reality and having sex with you, and I did.”

  “See, that’s the thing. We lived out your fantasy last night. I thought we could live out mine tonight.”

  Her heart hammered. Not only at the prospect of feeling him around her, inside of her, but because he’d obviously been telling the truth last night. He had fantasized about her.

  “Actually, I had plans. I was going to eat my way through a box of Happy Camper cookies.” And then OD on a little tetracycline, followed by a heavy-duty acne scrub. She smiled. “I guess I could trade the Mint Cream Extremes for a fantasy. But it’ll have to be a really good one.”

  He grinned and kissed her again. “Put on one of your new miniskirts and meet me out at my place in two hours.” His lips grazed her ear as he murmured, “Minus your undies.”

  “You have been thinking about this.”

  “About you.” He gave her another kiss and a wink before he turned toward his truck, which he’d parked at the curb. “And don’t forget your boots.”

  “IF YOU THINK I’m getting on that horse, you’re crazy.” Charlene stood just outside the main barn at the Iron Horse ranch and stared up at the chestnut mare. “Forget it.”

  Mason tossed a southwestern print riding blanket over the mare’s back. “We’ll ride double. I promise you won’t fall. And if you get any bruises from riding, I promise to kiss them all better.”“I bet.”

  He finished harnessing the animal, hooked his foot in the stirrup and climbed onto the horse’s back. He looked down at her and held out a hand. “Come on. Just hook your boot in the stirrup and I’ll pull you up.”

  She stared at him a few seconds before she slipped her hand in his. “Okay, but I want to go slow. No galloping.”

  “No galloping,” he vowed as he hauled her up in front of him. “At least not during the first five minutes.”

  “Very funny.” She had to hike her skirt up high on her thighs in order to spread her legs wide enough to accommodate the horse.

  “I’m serious.” He gripped the reins and gave the horse a little giddyup.

  They bolted forward and Charlene grabbed Mason’s thighs to keep from teetering to the side.

  “Easy,” he murmured.

  The horse kept moving, the muscles bunching and rippling and Charlene clutched him tighter.

  “I don’t think she heard you,” she said over her shoulder.

  “Not her. You.” He held the reins with one hand, and moved the other to cover her fingers which dug into his blue-jean clad leg. “Relax.” His touch was warm and strong and purposeful.

  They rounded the barn and started for the
open pasture up ahead. True to his word, Mason kept them at a steady walk for the first few minutes and Charlene eased her grip.

  “This isn’t so bad—whoaaaaa!” They pitched forward as he urged the horse to a gallop.

  Her heart lodged in her throat for the first few moments. But soon, she grew used to the steady pace and her body relaxed. Her grip on his thighs loosened until her hands rested easy on him and she actually started to enjoy herself.

  The wind whipped at her face, sneaking beneath the edge of her skirt to tease her bare bottom. She became acutely aware of the powerful thighs that framed hers, his chest a solid wall of muscle behind her.

  “Why don’t you take the reins?” The deep voice slid into her ears. Without waiting for a reply, he urged the leather straps into her hands and she found herself steering the horse. “Just remember to keep your grip firm, but not tight. And don’t jerk. You’ll scare her if you do that.”

  “What if I want to stop?”

  “We’re not stopping until we’re done.” She had the sneaking suspicion that he was talking about more than just the ride.

  A few frantic heartbeats later, he touched her thigh and she knew she’d been right. His palm burned into her flesh and her grip faltered.

  Mason’s other hand closed over hers, urging her fingers tight around the leather until she had a proper grip again.

  “Concentrate,” he told her.

  “You try concentrating without your panties.”

  Laughter rumbled in her ears and danced along her nerve endings. “I guess that would make it a little difficult.”

  “More like hot. Is your bottom supposed to burn like this?”

  “You have to rise and fall with the horse. Feel the motion with your thighs and let it guide you.”

  She spent the next few minutes doing her best to tune into the horse. But the only thing she seemed aware of was the way Mason’s hands splayed on her thighs, his hardness pressing into her bottom.

  “I don’t think I’m good at this.”

  “You’re trying too hard,” he told her. “Just feel the animal and think about something else. Think about this.”

  His fingers made lazy circles on the inside of her thigh and Charlene’s insides tightened. The movement continued for an endless moment before he urged the animal a little faster. The horse picked up the pace even more and so did Mason. His fingers swept higher, his touch more intense as he moved beneath the edge of her skirt and higher until he was an inch shy of the moist heat between her legs.

  “See,” he murmured against her ear, his husky voice gliding over her nerve endings. “You’re doing it. You’re moving with the horse. Can you feel it?”

  The only thing she felt was him. Surrounding her. Filling her senses. Her heart pounded and her nipples tingled and she could barely think, much less form a reply.

  “Charlene, are you with me?”

  Boy, was she ever, she realized when his thumb brushed her clitoris and sensation speared, hot and jagged, through her body.

  She would have dropped the reins if Mason’s hand hadn’t been fastened around hers, guiding the horse when all rational thought flew south to the pulsing between her legs.

  “You’re so wet.” His words were more of a groan as he swept a finger along her slick folds. “So hot and wet and…” His voice faded into the pounding of her heart and the buzz of excitement that filled her ears.

  She tilted her head back, resting in the curve of his shoulder as she surrendered herself to the ecstasy beating at her sanity and let him take control, of the horse and her body.

  He slid a finger deep inside her and the air bolted from her lungs. He moved with the horse and so did she, shifting just so, riding his fingers the way the two of them rode the animal.

  Her body grew tight and hot. The pressure built with each stroke, every thrust, until a cry broke past her lips. Her climax hit her hard and fast, like a zap of lightning that shook her to the bone. Shudders racked her. The blood hummed in her ears.

  The horse seemed to slow with her heartbeat, until they moved at a slow, easy walk. Charlene had never felt as relaxed as she did at that moment with Mason’s arms around her, his heart beating a steady tempo against her back.

  The sun was just starting to set as they topped a small ridge and found themselves overlooking an endless stretch of green pasture dotted with lush trees.

  “It’s pretty isn’t it?”

  “Very. Is this your favorite spot?”

  “It used to be. Actually, this is the first time I’ve ridden over this way since I’ve been back. The last time I was here was the night before high school graduation. Me and my brothers rode over, watched the sun set and said our goodbyes. The next day we walked across the stage, got our diplomas and went our separate ways.” His arm slid around her waist and held her. “I never really knew this place existed until I followed my parents out here once. They used to ride together every Sunday afternoon.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “It was the only thing they ever did together.”

  “At least they had a common ground.”

  “A lot of good it did them.” The hurt in his voice tugged at something inside of her and before she could stop herself, she heard her own voice.

  “My parents didn’t do much of anything together. My dad was always busy working and my mom took care of the house.”

  “They obviously did something together, sugar. You’re here, aren’t you?”

  “That was just sex.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “Not bad, but not enough.”

  “That’s where I think you’re wrong, sugar. Come on.” He slid off the horse and turned to pull her down into his arms.

  “What are we doing?” she asked as she watched him pull a soft plaid blanket from the saddlebags he’d draped over the back of the horse.

  “I think it’s time we had that fantasy.” He walked toward a gigantic patch of wildflowers and spread the blanket in the center.

  She followed. “You mean what just happened on the horse wasn’t it?”

  “Not all of it.” He grabbed her hand and hauled her into his arms. His mouth covered hers, his lips plundering in a kiss that sent a flood of moisture between her already damp thighs.

  He urged her toward the blanket and followed her down. His hard body covered hers and his mouth blazed a trail from her collarbone, down to the V of her blue-jean vest. His fingers made quick work of the buttons until he parted the material, unsnapped her bra and shoved aside the lacy cups. Then his hot tongue flicked her nipple and her moan split open the peaceful sunset.

  He teased the ripe peak, licking her over and over. Soon his lips closed around her areola and he sucked her so long and hard and deep that she thought she would come apart right there in his arms.

  Sliding his hands beneath her skirt, he pushed the material up and urged her legs apart. He ground his pelvis against her softness and she gasped.

  She could feel him hard and throbbing beneath his jeans and the realization sent a surge of restlessness through her. She grasped at his waistband and tugged at the button.

  It slid open and his zipper parted. He sprang hot and heavy into her hands. She stroked him from tip to root and caught his moan with her mouth. The next few moments passed in a dizzying blur as she worked his erection, squeezing and massaging until he groaned and stilled her movements.

  “Wait.” He leaned away from her long enough to work his jeans and briefs down his thighs. He fished a condom from his pocket and sheathed his erection in one deft motion. Sliding his hands beneath her buttocks, he gripped her tight and drew her toward him as he thrust inside. His entry was quick and deep and she nearly exploded at the first moment of contact.

  Mason ground his teeth against the overwhelming heat that gripped his throbbing erection. Christ, she was hot. And tight. And juicy. He closed his eyes and drank in a deep draft of air, determined to gather his control.

  But he had non
e left. He’d thought about her all night. And all day. And now she was here, beneath him, pulsing around him.

  She lifted her hips, urging him deeper and he lost it. He rode her hard, his arms braced on either side of her, fingers clutching the blanket as he plunged deeper, faster, until she grasped his shoulders and moaned again.

  A rumble worked its way from deep in his chest as he buried himself fast and sure and deep one final time. He bucked, spilling himself while her insides clenched and unclenched around him.

  He rolled to the side and stared up at the sky as his heart threatened to burst from his chest. He covered his eyes for a long moment and fought for his breath.

  Once he’d calmed down long enough to drag some oxygen into his lungs, he leaned up on his elbow and stared down at her. Her eyes were closed, her face flushed. Her lips were pink and swollen from his kisses. Her vest and bra lay open, her creamy breasts tipped with rosy nipples. The skirt rode her waist, revealing a triangle of soft, blond silk. Her legs were long and slim, her calves shapely where they disappeared into the sexy cowboy boots.

  Mason had pictured her like this so many times. He’d wanted her like this so many times. But nothing he’d cooked up in his imagination had been quite as good as the real thing.

  The real thing, he could touch. Smell. Feel.

  He reached out and traced one nipple.

  Her eyelids fluttered open and she smiled up at him. “So that was the fantasy.”

  “Almost.” He leaned over and plucked a red flower from the edge of the blanket. “Now it’s done.” He tucked the flower behind her ear.

  She smiled and the picture she made burned into his memory. So vivid and powerful that it haunted him the rest of the night and made him all the more determined to prove her wrong.

  Because Mason McGraw wasn’t letting her go.

  Not now.

  Not ever.

  14

  THE NEXT FEW days passed in a passionate blur for Charlene as she and Mason took turns breathing life into their most erotic thoughts of each other. They had wild, slippery sex in her shower. Fast, furious sex in the driver’s seat of his John Deere tractor. Slow, tender sex between her favorite lilac-colored sheets. Fun, playful sex skinny-dipping in the McGraw River.