Texas Outlaws: Billy

by Kimberly Raye

  “I’ve got a few more pots in the car,” he murmured before planting a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Hold down the fort. I’ll be right back.”

  Her nose. He’d kissed her nose, of all things.

  Her skin tingled and a strange warmth stole through her. Okay, so it was nice, but still. It wasn’t what she’d expected.

  The sound of his footsteps drew her from the emotional push-pull. Her eyes popped open in time to see him disappear outside and she found herself alone.

  Her chest hitched at the thought. A ridiculous reaction because the solitude gave her a few minutes to pull herself together and remember that she wasn’t here for nice.

  She drew a deep, shaky breath and reached for a nearby spoon to stir the meat that was slowly starting to brown.

  She spent the next few minutes stirring and trying to convince herself that she hated every second. Even if the meat did turn the most perfect shade of sizzling brown.

  “It looks good.”

  The deep voice stirred the hair on the back of her neck and sent a jolt of awareness through her. Her hands trembled and her grip on the spoon faltered. It fell into the pot and landed with a splat on top of the pile of beef.

  Billy’s deep chuckle sent a tingle through her body. “I usually add cayenne at this point.” He eyed the sinking spoon. “Trying something new?”

  “Maybe.” She scooted a few feet away toward the utensils drawer. “Do you always sneak up on people?” She tossed him a sideways glance as she rummaged for a pair of tongs.

  His eyes twinkled and his sensuous mouth crooked. “Are you always so touchy when you cook?”

  “I don’t cook very much.” The words were out before she could stop them. This wasn’t about having a conversation. It was about getting to the good stuff. The physical stuff. “My mom tried to teach me, but I was never very interested. In my mom, not the cooking.” The words were out before she could think better of them.

  “I pretty much taught myself. Jesse never could cook to save his life, and Cole was always too busy chasing women.”

  “And that never kept you very busy?”

  His grin was slow and wicked and her heart skipped a beat. “I never had to do any chasing, sugar. They come running after me.”

  Before she could stop herself, she popped him with a dish towel and his grin faded into a look of pure shock. “What the hell?”

  “You’re too cocky for your own good,” she said, turning back to the pot of meat. She retrieved the spoon with the tongs and set them to the side. “Somebody needs to bring you down a notch or two.”

  “So why didn’t you like being in the kitchen with your mom?”

  “I thought we changed this subject.”

  “You brought it up.”

  “My mom is the type of woman who bends over backward for any and every man in her life. She bent and they let her. They used her.”

  “Your dad, too?”

  “My dad was the worst. She was with him the longest. She did everything for that man, but it wasn’t enough to keep him at home. To keep him faithful. He walked out on us when I was thirteen years old. My mom’s been looking for his replacement ever since. The trouble is, she keeps finding him and the pattern repeats all over again.”

  Her mind rushed back to the past and she saw her mother standing in the kitchen, slaving over her father’s favorite red velvet cake. She’d made four batches of cooked white frosting before she’d managed to get it right, and all for nothing. He’d never even come home from work that night. Instead, he’d gone straight to the local beer joint and spent the night with some barmaid.

  He’d come home smelling like Emeraude and Aqua Net the next morning and her mother had simply sliced the cake and served him a slice as if he was fresh out of the shower after a hard day’s work.

  “I’ll never kill myself for a man like that.” She didn’t mean to say the words, but they came out anyway.

  “You shouldn’t have to.”

  She turned then and her gaze caught his. Sympathy gleamed so hot and bright in his eyes and a sudden rush of warmth went through her. A feeling that had nothing to do with the lust that burned between them and everything to do with the fact that Billy Chisholm actually understood her feelings. Even more, he was on her side.

  Yeah, right.

  “So, Eli taught you to cook?”

  “Sort of. He taught me to just throw it all together and see what happens. I practiced on my own to come up with this recipe.” He grabbed a bottle of garlic and handed it to her. “Add a little bit of this.”

  She grabbed the spice, popped the cap and shook once, twice, a third time.

  “That’s not enough,” Billy’s deep voice whispered into her ear as he came up behind her. One hand slid around her waist while the other closed over hers.

  “You don’t have to do this.” What the hell? a voice whispered. This was exactly what he needed to do. To get them off the topic of mothers and brothers, and back onto the real reason she was here—sex.

  She knew that. But her heart beat double time anyway, as if there was much more at stake than a little mattress-dancing.

  The fingertips that held her frantic grip on the garlic powder slid down until his thumb massaged the inside of her wrist. The heat from the bubbling chili drifted up, bathing her face and making her cheeks burn. Air lodged in her chest and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

  “Give it another shake,” Billy murmured, the words little more than a breathless whisper against the sensitive shell of her ear.

  She wanted to say something, to argue the point, but she couldn’t seem to find the words.

  “That’s it.” His thumb slid from the inside of her wrist, up her palm, leaving a fiery trail. “Now you’re cooking like a real champion.”

  Boy, was she ever.

  She became instantly aware of his hard male body flush against hers, her bottom nestled in the cradle of his thighs. His erection pressed into her, leaving no doubt that he was turned on.

  Extremely so.

  Her mouth tingled and she had the insane urge to turn into the warm lips nuzzling her ear.

  A perfectly natural reaction, given the situation. A perfectly physical reaction.

  Yet there was more at stake at the moment.

  She felt it in the double tap of her heart. In the strange fluttering in the pit of her stomach. Both physical reactions. The thing was, she’d never felt either with any man before. Cowboy or otherwise.

  Because Billy wasn’t just any man.

  He was her man.

  The thought struck and before she could drop-kick it out of her mind, she turned.

  And then she wasn’t just thinking about kissing him, she was actually leaning forward, sliding her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his.

  15

  SHE WAS KISSING HIM.

  Billy felt a split second of panic as her lips parted. Her tongue touched, swirled and teased. She didn’t hold anything back.

  Which meant he should have reined in his response right then and there. This wasn’t about sex. It was about like. About spending time together and figuring out if she felt even half of what he did.

  At the same time, there was something desperate about her touch. As if this kiss was different from all the others they’d shared over the past few days.

  The thought intoxicated him even more than the sweet taste of her lips. He planted one hand on the back of her head, tilted her face to the side and kissed her with everything he had.

  He nibbled her bottom lip and plunged his tongue deep, exploring, searching. When he couldn’t breathe, he slid his lips across her cheek and along her jaw. His mouth slipped to her neck and he pushed her hair to the side, inhaling her sweet scent. She smelled of peaches and warm, feminine s
kin. He breathed her in for a long, heart-pounding moment and closed his eyes. He thought of all the things he wanted to do with her.

  Everything.

  He ached to see her soapy and wet in his shower. Naked and panting against his sheets. Smiling and laughing across the breakfast table—

  He killed the last thought and concentrated on the lust that rolled through him like a ball of fire that dive-bombed south. He edged her sideways until they were clear of the stove, then bent her back over the countertop and captured her lips again.

  He fed off her mouth for several long moments, tasting and savoring, before nibbling his way down the sexy column of her throat.

  His penis throbbed, and it was all he could do to keep from shoving his zipper down, parting her legs and plunging fast and sure and deep inside her hot, tight body.

  Now. Right. Friggin’. Now.

  He wouldn’t.

  He didn’t want just sex anymore. He wanted to know that she felt something more.

  Love?

  Hell, he was the last person to even know what love was. He’d never been in love. He’d spent his younger years barely surviving, and his teenage years trying to do more than just survive. He’d never had time for more than sex.

  He didn’t have time for it now.

  But he wanted it.

  Not that he wanted her to fall madly in love with him or anything crazy like that. He just wanted to know that she at least felt something for him.

  And that meant slowing down enough to give her time to feel. To think. To want.

  He slammed on the brakes and concentrated on the small cry that bubbled from her lips when he licked her pulse beat. He liked pleasing her, so he held tight to his control and paced himself. With each touch of his lips, she sighed or gasped. The sounds fed the desire swirling inside him.

  When he reached the neckline of her dress, he traced the edge where her skin met the material with his tongue and relished the breathy moan that slipped past her full lips. His hands came up and he touched her, a feather-light caress of his fingertips over the soft fabric of her dress. He traced the contours of her waist, her rib cage, the undersides of her luscious breasts.

  He slid his hands up and over until he felt the bare skin plumping over her neckline. Heat zapped him like a live wire and his pulse jumped. He tugged at the bodice. Buttons popped and her luscious breasts spilled over the top.

  Grabbing her sweet round ass, he lifted her, hoisting her onto the countertop. He stepped between her legs and caught one ripe nipple between his lips. He suckled her and she arched against him.

  He pushed her back down, still sucking as he caught the hem of her dress. He shoved the material up until he felt the quivering flesh of her bare thighs.

  He didn’t mean to touch the softest part of her, but suddenly he couldn’t help himself. He slid a finger deep inside her slick folds and her body bucked. He drew away from her swollen nipple and caught her delicious moan with his mouth. He plunged another finger inside, wiggling and teasing.

  He wanted to feel every steamy secret. Even more, he wanted to taste her.

  Tearing his mouth from hers, he worked his way down, kissing and teasing and tasting until he reached the dress bunched around her waist. He glanced up and his gaze caught hers for a brief moment before he dipped his head.

  He licked the very tip of her clit with his tongue and she shuddered. She opened wider, an invitation that he couldn’t resist. He trailed his tongue over her clit and down the slit before dipping it inside.

  She was warm and sweet and addictive, and suddenly he couldn’t help himself. Hunger gripped him hard and fast. He sucked on the swollen nub and plunged his tongue inside until her entire body went stiff.

  “Come on, baby,” he murmured. He gripped her thighs and held her tight. “Let go.”

  A few more licks and she did. A cry rumbled from her throat and tremors racked her body. He drank her in, savoring her essence until her body stilled.

  Then he pulled away and stared down at her.

  “Please. Just do it. Do it now,” she murmured, her eyes closed, her face flushed. Her chest rose and fell to a frantic rhythm that made his groin throb and his entire body ache. She was so beautiful. So damn sweet. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman.

  But even more, he wanted her to want him more than she’d ever wanted any other man.

  “I think the chili’s burning.”

  Her eyelids fluttered open. “What?”

  He took a huge drink of oxygen and forced his hands away from her. “I need to turn the heat down.”

  Boy, did he ever.

  “Chili? You’re worried about the chili?” Her gaze swiveled toward the stove and the stream of smoke that funneled from the gigantic pot. “Oh, no.” Her cheeks fired a brighter red as she shoved at the hem of her skirt and tugged up her bodice.

  City gal Sabrina Collins blushing, of all things. It was definitely a first. He liked it. He liked it a hell of a lot.

  What he didn’t like was that she’d scrambled away from him faster than he could blink. As if she’d just realized she’d made a big, big mistake. One that had nothing to do with the smoke that slowly filled the room.

  “I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow,” she said as he turned his attention to the stove. “I really should go.”

  “Duty calls.”

  “I know I’m supposed to help so we can get busy later, but—what did you just say?”

  He winked. “If you have to leave, you have to leave.”

  “That’s okay with you?”

  “I’d rather you stay and help me finish this batch, but I know you’ve got a lot on your plate.”

  “But our arrangement—”

  “—will wait.” He arched an eyebrow. “You can wait, can’t you?”

  “Um, yeah. Sure. I just thought you needed some sleep.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be pretty tuckered out after all this chili. I’ll take a rain check tonight.”

  “Well, all right then.” She turned and snatched up her purse. “I’ll just head out.”

  “Sweet dreams,” he called after her.

  “Yeah, right,” she muttered, and a rush of satisfaction went through Billy. He’d won tonight’s battle.

  Now if he could only win the war.

  * * *

  THEY WEREN’T HAVING SEX.

  It had been two days since the chili incident and other than a few hot kisses and some heavy petting, she wasn’t any closer to working Billy Chisholm out of her system. She needed the real deal for that.

  At least that’s what she was telling herself.

  She needed him inside her and her wrapped around him and she needed an orgasm. A major, mind-blowing orgasm during the actual deed. The preliminary stuff...It just wasn’t the same thing.

  At least that’s what she was telling herself.

  Because no way was she so wound up because she was nervous. Afraid. She had only two days left in Lost Gun before the rodeo finals and no doubt that she would add the last twenty cowboys to her list and meet her goal. Twenty-one counting Billy, who’d promised she could sign him up when all was said and done.

  She certainly wasn’t so antsy because she didn’t want to sign him up. Because she wanted him for herself. For the next two days and beyond.

  Real sex.

  That was all she needed to relieve the tension in her shoulders and ease the anxiety knotting her stomach. She held tight to the truth as he ended the heavy-duty petting session that had started the minute she’d arrived on his doorstep late Friday night, after a long day at the festival and enough profiles to push her that much closer to her goal.

  All the more reason she should have headed to the saloon to celebrate with Livi. They were going to make it, to secure the
ir funding.

  But Sabrina wanted more. She hadn’t given up on her story, even if all of the research she’d done on Silas Chisholm made her want to wrap Billy in her arms and hug him for all the grief he’d suffered thanks to his father. A story was a story. If she ever wanted to make it as a real journalist—and she did, even if it wasn’t half as much fun as she’d anticipated—she had to learn to separate her emotions from the situation. She would. She would never have another opportunity like this one. Billy had seen the fire. He’d been an actual eyewitness to the events that had unfolded that night. He was her inside track on the story of a lifetime. One she desperately needed if she ever wanted to move beyond running a web hook-up service. She needed this story. Even more, she needed sex. And so she’d headed up to Billy’s cabin instead.

  And straight into his bed.

  For about fifteen minutes, she felt convinced her dry spell was about to end. But then he pulled away, kissed her one last time with enough passion to make her hormones cry, and then he rolled over to go to sleep.

  Sleep.

  Seriously?

  She tossed and turned and did everything she could to keep him up, but then he slid an arm around her and pulled her back flush against his body. Her hopes soared one last time, but then she heard the deep snore directly in her ear.

  “Really?” she muttered, barely resisting the urge to pinch the hell out of his arm.

  But the solid muscle wrapped around her did feel good and she found herself relaxing a little. Enough to stop contemplating revenge plots and actually close her eyes for a few moments. It had been a long day and this was sort of nice, too.

  Not that she was falling asleep.

  * * *

  SHE FELL ASLEEP.

  The truth sank in several hours later when her eyes finally popped open and she realized that it was almost five o’clock in the morning.

  She’d fallen hard and fast, but he hadn’t.

  Her gaze went to the empty stretch of sheets beside her. Obviously he’d been the one to beat a hasty retreat this time and now she was all by her lonesome.

  All the better.