Do Him Right

by Cerise DeLand

  Chet took Shana’s hand. “Shall I tell you about Willa and me?”

  What a sweet man, you are. “No, thank you. You don’t have to.”

  “How about if I want to?”

  Praise for him clogged her throat with emotion. “You don’t owe me, Chet. But yes, I’d like to hear.”

  They were approaching the turnoff to his house, headed back toward Main Street and the B&B, but he pulled over into a grove of live oaks and pampas grass. In the leafy seclusion, he parked and put his arms around her shoulders. “Look at me, Shana. There. God, I love your blue eyes, honey. Don’t be sad or mad or jealous. Truth is, Willa has dreams that aren’t gonna come true. Ever since I got here, she’s set her sights on me and I am not a man to be led. Besides, she is just not my type. She’s too bossy. Too spoiled. And the owner’s daughter.”

  Shana rolled a shoulder, sensitive but trying to be a big, brave woman. “She’s lovely.”

  Chet moved closer, thumbing her lower lip. “Not as lovely as you, darlin’.”

  Shana took that compliment with a tiny smile. “She’s determined.”

  “She’s not sweet. Not honest.”

  Shana froze. I’m not honest.

  “What’s more, she’s never moved me like you do.”

  Shana tilted her head to one side, awed by his simple statement. “Why is that, I wonder?”

  “Our electricity, honey. It just is what it is,” he explained against her ear. Then he pulled away and looked down at her. “What other kinds of reasons do I need to list for you, Shana?”

  Do you bed women the day, the hour you meet them? Am I unique or just another roll in the hay? “You must have dated other women.”

  “Others who, like Willa, have tried to tie me down? Is that what you’re asking?” he persisted, chuckling under his breath. “Well hell, yes. What of it?” He spoke against her lips and ran one of his hands up into her hair, wrecking her ponytail. “Tell me you don’t like my kisses.” He took her mouth and claimed it all with a spearing tongue. “Tell me you don’t want my hands all over you.” He cupped one breast and rubbed her nipple with one demanding thumb. “Tell me you don’t want me inside you, here, riding you long and hard.” He thrust his hand between her legs, and she felt her pussy become drenched in fresh desire for him.

  “Oh, I do! I just need to know what to do about Willa.”

  “Ignore her. She’s such a baby.”

  “I’m not much older,” she pointed out.

  “But more mature. And sad too. I want to learn how that happened. Long talks and long nights loving you.” Chet reared back and took a gander at her through narrowed eyes. “Okay, I see I need to ask. So how old are you?”

  “Twenty-six.”

  “A mere child,” he feigned distress.

  Ten years younger than you. She cuffed him. “And Willa?”

  “Twenty-one, maybe. Hell, I don’t know. Whatever she is, she’s not for me. She’s got no soul.”

  “How do you know I do?” Shana shot back, partly amused but damn frightened to hear how she differed from the rich belle of the county.

  Crimson shades of afternoon turned his golden features to copper as he moved ever so nearer, lowered his voice to a sinful seduction and said, “Because I knew who you were from the minute you walked in my door this morning.”

  She sucked in her breath. The game was up. Her cause lost. Her hopes dashed.

  Cursing under his breath, he hauled her over the gearshift then flicked open her waistband button and pushed up her skirt. Eager to claim him as her own, she wiggled, spreading her bare thighs over his, then worked at his belt and zipper. Her pussy was open, sending off the musky aroma of her need, exposed to him, cool and begging for his touch.

  He didn’t let her go hungry long. His fingers thrust up inside her wet channel with stunning urgency. “You are the one woman I do believe I cannot live without.” He caressed her and the sounds of her liquid desire for him urged her on. “Listen to how you want me. God, I am so blessed.” He pulled out and raised his fingers to his mouth to suck one dry. “You do taste better than honey. Want some of this?”

  She bit her lip. She was so needy. Her action her answer, she put her mouth around his fingertips and licked them with delicate whisks of her tongue.

  He groaned. “You are killing me, here, darlin’.” He lifted up to let her slide down his jeans, and his cock sprang free. Bright red and dripping cum, his shaft was such a lush enticement, she snuggled closer.

  “Got to have you inside me,” she pleaded, one hand aiming his rod toward her oh-so-empty pussy.

  “Wait, baby.” He reached down to extract a condom packet from his pocket.

  She almost choked on laughter. “You brought one?”

  “You bet!” He tore it open and rolled it on with a snap. “I am not going anywhere with you without a supply. Damn if one is gonna do the job here either!”

  They both chuckled until he wound her hair around his fist and pulled her mouth to his. “In bed. Out. Day or night. I want you. In all the ways I can get you.” He kissed her in a ravishing assault until her mind melted and her body flooded with need for him. “Come on, sink that hot, pink pussy over me, and let’s get us both feeling better, eh?”

  She sank. He rose up. Her head fell back, and he kissed her throat, rocked his hips and seized her with long strokes far up inside her. His power shoved her higher, one palm to the ceiling of the cab, one to his shoulder as he filled her with a keening fury and she rode him hard until he too, was groaning in happiness.

  She fell down to rest her head on his shoulder, caress his jaw and nuzzle his throat in contentment.

  He cupped her ass with two large hands and jerked her tight. “You gonna argue with me on this, or are we going to go on from here, seeing if what we have is really real?”

  Relieved he hadn’t recognized her as his old nemesis. Relieved he wanted her often and wild, and overwhelmed he could sweet-talk her to gushing delight, she brushed her lips on his. “Take me back to the B&B,” she instructed. “I think we’re about to send the town of Hayward up in flames.”

  “Hell, baby.” He snorted. “They need to get used to that, cuz we’re making love every hour of the day.”

  Until I tell you who I really am—and all this ends as if it never occurred.

  Chapter Four

  “And one more thing before I go, Chet.” Sam sounded stern as he stood, ready to leave after their most recent conference on the rodeo’s opening events. “I need to see both of you doing something for me.”

  “Sure, Sam.” Chet got to his feet. “What did you have in mind?”

  “It’s Friday night tonight, and that means there’s a big dance at The Long Horn. And tonight, you both will be there. Together. You hear me? Because from all I hear, you are together.” Sam picked his white Resistol hat from the wall rack and pointed it at Shana. “No problem with that. Not by me. No, sir. But people are beginning to talk, you realize?”

  Shana blushed, rose from her chair and brushed her hands down her jeans. To make love to Chet nearly every night since she’d arrived two weeks ago was one thing, but to think that the people of Hayward knew, despite their efforts to be discreet, was disaster. Gossip in a small town could kill your reputation before you could sneeze. “Sam, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Be out and about.” He glanced at Chet who frowned. “I’m not telling you how to live your lives, but if you two don’t get out in public, how do you expect folks are gonna take to this expansion? This rodeo is a business—and you two are having way too much fun.”

  Shana bit her lip, her cheeks burning.

  Chet’s face was a mask of concern.

  Sam strolled toward the office door. “Come out. Let them see you. And if they’ll see you together because that’s the way you two want it, fine by me. But for god sakes, press a little flesh, will you? Let ‘em get to know you. Talk this up. I can’t do it by myself—and as you might expect, my Willa is not helping your cause any
.” He chuckled. “Can you dance, Shana?”

  “Yes, sir.” She forced a smile. “Really well.”

  “Good. Do it then. And you, Chet? I know you don’t like to go to The Long Horn, but get over it. Take her dancing and introduce her, you hear me?”

  “Yes, sir. We’ll be there.”

  “Good.” Sam adjusted his hat on his head and opened the door. “We’re putting a lot of effort and money into this opening, and I want you two promoting it personally. You can do whatever else you want afterward.”

  He grinned at them both, winked and shut the door.

  “Oh my god,” Shana sank into her chair, one hand to her chest. “Were we that obvious?”

  Chet blinked then walked around his desk toward hers. When he stood beside her, he reached down and drew her up to him. His hands framed her face as he kissed her lightly, chuckling. “We weren’t thinking, sugar. And my apologies, I should have been. I know this town better, but I cannot get enough of you and damn, if I want to share you. Still, orders are orders, and it’s time to go out in the world.”

  “And if Willa is bad-mouthing you and me, we have a lot of work to do.”

  Chet hugged her. “Nah. We’ll be fine. The men’ll take one close look at you and froth at the mouth. And the women will see you belong to me and not feel threatened. Then we’ll be in. You wait and see.”

  * * * * *

  “I haven’t been two-stepping in ages,” Shana told him as she took his hand to climb down out of his truck. The Long Horn Dance Hall was a classic rough wood-clad Texas saloon and dance hall. On the hot night air, she heard the strains of a honky-tonk tune from a live country band. She shut her eyes at the sounds of the toe-tapping music and told herself she was going to enjoy it and her social obligations to meet the townspeople. “Lord, I am nervous.”

  “Don’t be,” Chet crooned and swept a hand around her waist. “In those jeans you look good enough to eat, and heaven knows, I’ve got a hankerin’ for that all the time!”

  She elbowed him. “Come on, now. You promised to be good tonight. If we have to win friends and influence people, you cannot be complimenting me all the time.”

  He stopped and turned her in his arms, his heavily muscled thighs and rigid cock nestled warmly against her torso. “I promise to be good. It’s just damn hard for me to look at you and not want you naked with those pretty legs spread open so I can lick your folds.”

  “Chet,” she warned, shivering with his ardor. “Stop, honey, just for a few hours.”

  He inhaled, looked up at the night sky. “I’m looking for strength.”

  She laughed and grabbed his hand. “Come on. Let’s dance!”

  “Hey, Chet,” a burly cowboy in a white shirt and jeans called from across the stone parking lot. “How you doin’, man?” He strode closer with a friend who was as tall and dark as he. “Introduce us.”

  “John Dayton, Shana Carpenter,” Chet said the words mechanically then looked at the man’s friend. “And I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

  “Brak Henley,” the other man said, tipping his black gambler’s hat at Shana. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.” He put his hand out to Chet who shook it quickly. “Stapleton. Stapleton. Aren’t you the champ bronc buster from a few years back?”

  “I am.”

  “You competing? Dayton, here, tells me you have a rodeo doing the season opener soon.”

  “No, I don’t ride any longer,” Chet told him.

  John Dayton spoke up. “Chet is the town’s rodeo manager.”

  “Is that so?” Henley examined him. “Got tired of the circuit, huh?”

  “Something like that,” Chet bit off.

  “Chet had a bad streak of luck,” Dayton told his buddy. “Bad press.”

  Chet nodded. “That too.”

  Shana stiffened.

  Chet looked down at her. “Come on, Shana. Let’s go inside. See you both later.”

  He steered her toward the front door, but her feet were lead and her heart was in her throat. Did everyone remember what she’d done to him?

  “What’s the matter, honey?” He turned when she couldn’t move beyond the front door.

  She swallowed hard. Over the past weeks, how many times had she wanted to come clean and tell him? When he kissed her in the office? When he took her clothes off with reverent care and they made love standing up against the file cabinets? When he put his cock inside her in her hot tub at the B&B and just held. When he laid her down in his bed or hers and caressed her nipples and filled her pussy with his sweet, hard cock. When he’d probed her ass and said, We’ll stretch you a little more again tomorrow, baby. One day soon I’ll fuck you hard there. Promise, darlin’. Come along now and let me kiss your lovely mouth again.

  “Come along now, darlin’,” he crooned against her ear. “We’re good here, and you need to meet these people.”

  She looked up at his strong handsome face. “I want you to kiss me.”

  “Aw, Shana, you know if I do that, we’re goin’ home to make love.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “I’ll lay you in my bed good and proper after we shake a few hands.”

  What choice did she have? Tell him and lose him? Continue to stall, not tell him and take the chance he could ever forgive her when she did find the gumption? And as for caring for her forever? Ah. Foolishness. No one did that. Hadn’t she learned that first hand from her mother and father? They had loved each other badly and still couldn’t enjoy their lives together. What made her think she could find anything different? Especially with a man she had deceived. A man she loved beyond reason.

  “You feeling okay, honey?”

  She nodded, faking a smile. She let him lead her inside.

  Chet headed them straight for the long bar where the Friday night crowd was a mix of couples and singles on the make. Some were red-faced from alcohol or dancing, and most all were boisterous and jovial.

  “Hey, Chet! Shana!” a tall, dark figure, hoisting a beer bottle, cut through the crowd, and Shana recognized Troy Mallard, the owner of the B&B where Shana lived.

  “Oh, shit.” Chet winced. “He’s drinking.”

  “That’s not good?” she asked Chet.

  “Never.”

  “Why?” she wanted to know but Chet had no time to answer as Troy appeared before them. She could see what Chet meant because Troy’s brown eyes were bloodshot, half closed and his smile, beautiful as it might have been, wobbled. “Hello, Troy.”

  “Glad to see you brought her around, Chet.” Troy ogled Shana’s breasts in her white shirt. “We need to see pretty ladies here.”

  Chet pursed his mouth. “Yeah, well, we have got to do our public duty here, Troy.” He took Shana’s arm. “Let’s get you a drink, honey, then we can go around and say hello to folks.” He ordered a beer for Shana and a nonalcoholic beer for himself.

  “Still drinking that panther piss?” Troy taunted Chet.

  Shana, who had never seen her uncle drink and praised him for it, glanced up at Chet who flexed his jaw, fighting anger.

  “I’m good with this, Troy.” Chet stepped farther down the bar and pulled Shana with him.

  “Sure you are.” Troy followed them. “Where you goin’? You could stay here and talk to me for a while, Chet.” He pulled himself up to his full six-foot-plus height in challenge.

  But Chet still topped him in inches and sobriety. “Another time, Troy. We’ve got work to do.”

  “Is that what you’ve been doin’?”

  The words were a taunt at the least and a slur at the most.

  Chet swung to face the other man. “Don’t do this, man. Do not say another word.”

  “Why? You want to make sure she doesn’t hear what a pussy you can be?”

  Chet leaned over. “That is enough, Troy. Did you come with anyone? Jack or Paul Dobson?” He was looking over the top of the crowd.

  “No, I came alone. So what’re you gonna do about it, huh, Chet boy? Can’t even stand here and talk to me. That’s cuz you rodeo bo
ys think I’m a nobody. A cripple.”

  Chet considered Troy with warm compassion. “Stop this. You know I think nothing of the sort. And you shouldn’t be drinking.”

  “Oh yeah, sure, sure. How about if I take over for you, you teetotaler, and show Miz Shana here a good time? We know she likes to fuck.”

  Over the noise of the crowd and the music, those around them heard the last word and paused, looked at Troy, glanced at Chet and moved away. Shana stared at Troy, stunned that this kind man could be so insulting.

  Chet, his face blazing red, murmured his excuses to her and grabbed Troy’s arm. “Come with me.”

  “No!” He ripped away from Chet’s hold. Straightening his shirt, he leered at Shana. “I want to dance with her. You gonna stop me?” He whirled and clamped an arm around Shana’s waist.

  His strength caught her off guard and she put a hand to his chest. “Troy, stop! I thought we were friends.”

  “Yeah.” He got in close to whisper in her ear, pulling her close and squeezing her ass. “So you gonna give me a little dance and a kiss and a piece of what you’re giving to Chet?”

  She gasped and shrank backward. What frightened her was not the lust she saw on Troy’s face, but the fury she saw on Chet’s. “No, don’t hit him.”

  For a second, Chet scowled at her.

  Shana had seen rage like that before. On her father’s face. Her mother’s. And Chet’s four years ago when he’d railed at the rodeo judges. She staggered backward. Someone righted her.

  Chet stepped up behind Troy, his jaw set, his eyes blazing green fire. With a growl, he picked up Troy from under his armpits as if he were a sack of flour. “Enough. Let’s go.”

  “Like hell!” Troy whirled, his fist aiming for Chet’s jaw but hitting his chest with a thud that made Troy howl in pain. Chet reeled him about and frog-marched him toward the door.

  John Dayton was right behind them. “I’ll take him home, Chet.”

  Horrified, Shana stood there, mouth open, numb with fright, as Chet handed Troy over to John and strode back to her.