by Chiah Wilder
“Be careful what you wish for,” Maggie muttered and brushed her hair away from her face.
With a less than subtle turn on her barstool, she swiveled to face the man head on and plastered a fake grin on her face.
“You weren’t supposed to be here again,” she said as soon as he was within earshot.
“Funny, last time I checked, you didn’t own the bar.” Flux stalked forward nearly getting into her personal space. “I also don’t recall you giving me a name last night. Care to rectify that mistake?”
Maggie took a long sip from her beer then crossed her arms as she sized up the hunk whose body heat tingled along her skin. Every inch of her became intimately aware of Flux, but she was above her hormones. She wasn’t a teenager, and she definitely wasn’t looking for an easy lay—just a little bit of fun. Besides Maggie was positive he already knew her name. She saw him talking with Pete while she was in the ring. Okay, Flux, I’ll play along.
“I don’t care to rectify anything, and it wasn’t a mistake.” She looked up at him and gave him one of her saccharin-sweet smiles that drove men crazy.
“I suppose ignoring me earlier this afternoon was also a part of your plan too, huh?”
“This afternoon?” She cocked her head upward as if she were trying to jab her memory.
He snorted. “Is that the game we’re playing, Duchess?”
A slight shrug and another winning smile. “I don’t know, is it?”
“I bet that smile of yours gets all the men to clamor after you.”
“The same way your leather jacket and bad boy vibe work for you.”
Maggie noticed that with every word, Flux crept closer to her, his voice growling low with intensity. Somehow, he had wound up in between her parted knees, and she was looking up at him, barely breathing, but dragging the scent of leather and sandalwood into her lungs with every shallow inhale. Her fingers latched onto either side of the barstool’s peeling vinyl.
“It’s good that we understand each other.”
She scooted back a bit on the stool.
“Am I invading the Duchess’s personal space? Do you need to call your bodyguards?” he drawled.
His low, gravelly voice took her breath away and wrapped itself around her like a physical touch. The threads of desire that she’d been steadfastly ignoring ever since he’d come over wove around her insides and made the spot between her legs hum.
“I can handle myself.”
Their eyes locked. His hands stayed at his sides, but a flash of intensity whipped through his cornflower blue eyes, and she watched a gulp bob deep in his throat.
“I don’t doubt that.” He shifted from one foot to the other and his small movement brushed his outer leg against her inner thigh.
The delicate touch left them both suspended as neither of them moved for at least the span of a heartbeat. God, he’s gorgeous. And so very off limits. The heat in his eyes made shivers run up and down her spine. Flux wasn’t grabbing at her or doing anything overtly sexual, and yet her body was responding as if he had slipped his hands under her skirt and buried his fingers into her sex. Her nipples peaked hard and tight against her bra as arousal flooded her whole body. She darted her eyes away from that dangerous heat in his.
“What’s wrong, Duchess?” Flux said, the lilt of his accent driving her stupidly crazy.
Maggie’s gaze switched back to him and his mouth turned up at the corners, but she wouldn’t call it a smile. He looked at her as if she were a delicious meal he couldn’t wait to devour. Their chemistry throbbed, crackling through the air between them.
“It’s kind of stuffy in here,” Maggie said, dragging her gaze away from his. Really? That’s the best you could come up with? How fucking lame.
A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. “You’re certainly different from the women I’m used to. I’ll give you that, darlin’.”
Flux skimmed his thumb against her lower lip, and she couldn’t stop herself from lightly tasting his skin. A crooked smile tugged at the edges of his mouth when he bent his head down, and goosebumps scattered across her arms. Then his lips brushed against hers. She closed her eyes but her voice of reason yelled at her. Immediately, she jerked her head back.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his face inches from hers.
“I just remembered, I have something to do.” Not the greatest answer in the world, but she couldn’t think straight since her mind was in a sexual fog. What was it about Flux that made her body respond to him like that? She had to nip it in the bud—whatever this thing was between them. Besides, Chet was burning a hole into both of them, and she didn’t need to deal with the two of them swinging at each other.
Then a thought crossed her mind and a slow smile spread across her just-kissed lips. Maggie had the perfect way to rein in their out-of-control hormones. This will be perfect, and afterwards, he’ll stay far away from me.
She laughed and looked him in the eyes.
CHAPTER FIVE
Maggie
“Do you want to go somewhere else?” Maggie licked her lips, unable to draw her attention away from Flux, but all too aware of Chet behind his shoulder. “I think I’ve had enough of this place for the night.”
The last thing she needed was the gossip or anymore alcohol in her system, and if they stayed any longer, she might do something she’d regret.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever makes you comfortable, Duchess.” A slow grin lit up Flux’s face as if he was sure he was going to get lucky.
“It’s Maggie, by the way.” She slapped her hand on the bar behind her back to signal to Sadie that she was heading out for the night and needed her check. “I have just the place in mind. We’ll take my truck.”
“Well then, I guess you’re in charge, Duchess.” Flux’s hand pressed into her lower back and nearly took her breath away.
She moved to the side and he dropped it. “Why do you keep calling me that?” It wasn’t as if she hated the moniker or anything, and it wasn’t the worst thing she’d ever been called, “Duchess” was actually kind of cute—it was only alarming when he said it, because the single word held so much more intimacy than her real name.
“It’s the way you carry yourself. You’re regal and you don’t take shit from anyone.”
Maggie bit her lower lip and watched as Flux’s chest expanded the smallest bit.
“You ready to cash out? It’s an early night for you,” Sadie said behind her.
Maggie tried to swivel around to pay the tab. “Uh … I think you have to move …” Her eyes flicked down to her legs and up at Flux who was between them. “Do you mind?”
“What’s the magic word, Duchess? Come on, don’t act like you weren’t raised with manners.” His eyes gleamed.
Maggie blushed crimson and inwardly cursed herself for it. She never liked being so transparent and vulnerable when she was embarrassed, and the way Flux dragged those emotions out of her without doing much at all didn’t make handling her reactions any easier.
“Well, one of you has to move or, at the very least, slide a piece of plastic my way,” Sadie said.
“Please, Flux.” Maggie noticed the way his eyes lit up and then smoldered when she spoke his name. “I need you to work with me here, otherwise consider my offer rescinded.”
He took two slow, deliberate steps backward. The breathing room was immediate, though she hadn’t noticed how cold it was in the bar until his warmth was gone.
With his gaze still locked on hers Flux took out his wallet, but Maggie pushed his hand away. “You don’t need to pay my tab.”
“I know that, but I want to.” He waved the bills at Sadie. The bartender looked from Maggie to Flux then back to Maggie.
“I don’t feel comfortable with you paying my tab.” Maggie took out a credit card and slid it toward Sadie.
Flux reached out and snagged it. “It’s just a fuckin’ tab, Duchess. It doesn’t mean we’ll be joined at the hip.”
The dark look he threw at Maggie took all the
argument out of her. “Fine,” she muttered as she slipped the credit card back into her wallet. She slid off the stool, making sure to keep her attention on Flux and the door rather than Chet and the jackasses behind her, who were making a bunch of rowdy noise again.
Before she could take a step, Flux’s warm palm rested against her lower back, where her top was riding up, as he steered them both toward the door. His touch pulsed along her nerve endings and sent the butterflies in her stomach reeling. When they were halfway to the door, he leaned down as they walked and his lips lightly brushed her earlobe. His warm breath tickling across her flesh nearly made Maggie lose her footing.
“I didn’t tell you yet how pretty you look. I like the way your clothes hug your curves.”
“Thanks?”
He chuckled. “And thank you for not making a scene at the bar when I paid. You played nice, Duchess. I can’t wait to reward you.”
“What? Like a Border collie?” She stopped right before the entrance and squared off with him.
“No … that’s not exactly what I had in mind.” Flux played it cool, although she noted the small bit of hesitation as he looked to the double doors and back again. “If I make you uncomfortable, you can go at any time. We’re taking your transportation, remember?”
With her nerves settling down a bit, Maggie nodded. Flux was right. If anything happened that she didn’t like, all she had to do was kick him out on his ass, put her foot to the gas and floor it out of there. He’s not like Chet.
Her eyes darted around, then landed on his. “Just so we’re clear, what are your expectations?”
“You really want to have this conversation here, Duchess? It can’t wait until we’re outside?” Flux’s gaze jumped around the crowded bar as if he was assessing possible threats.
The energy in the bar had all but ground to a halt, and a bunch of eyes were trained on them. Shit, he’s right. Despite herself, she glanced in Chet’s direction. He looked like he was going to implode as his mouth twisted with rage.
That was the clincher.
“Let’s get going, darlin’.” Flux grabbed her hand and she didn’t resist. “You can continue your inquisition once we’re in the truck.”
The hot desert air wrapped around them as Maggie slid behind the wheel of the pickup and let her forehead rest on the steering wheel for the briefest second while she caught her bearings. Flux pulled open the door on the passenger side and slipped into the seat.
“Do you want me to drive?”
His low question dragged Maggie out of her head and she startled in the seat. She put the key into the ignition and turned over the engine. “I got it,” she reassured him and carefully navigated out of the packed parking lot.
They were both quiet. Although Maggie didn’t know the reason for Flux’s silence, her head still spun and her lower back tingled with warmth from his touch that was no longer there. Why did he unnerve her so deeply? She mentally shook off the distraction and pressed her lips together, driving by memory more than anything else.
“What are we doing here?” she asked again.
“We’re driving,” he quipped, and she watched him stretch out his legs from the corner of her eye.
“That’s not what I meant—”
Flux cleared his throat. “I know, I know.”
There was another beat of silence between them. She got the feeling he wasn’t used to having these kinds of conversations.
He bent over to search for something underneath the seat. “How the fuck do I push this back?”
“The switch is on the side of the seat. Just move the knob back.” After he settled down, she threw him a sidelong glance. “So?”
An audible sigh, and then he turned sideways so he was facing her. “I’m not looking for anything serious. Fuck, even being in this truck with you goes against every rule I have, but I’m here, so let’s just leave it at that.”
“You have rules? Are they written down?” She chortled.
“Smartass.” Flux jerked his head back as he stared out the front windshield. “We’re going back to the rodeo? Is this a fuckin’ joke?”
“Look and see, before you judge,” she said offhandedly, as she turned into an employee parking lot, shut off the engine, and pocketed her keys. Maggie turned to face him and made sure to keep her hands to herself. “I’m going to give it to you straight up.”
“Good. I like that.” Flux laughed. “Fuck, it’s been a long time since I’ve laughed so much in one damn night.”
Maggie quirked her lips. “Why’s that?”
“One thing at a time.” Flux stretched, rubbing his hands down his black jeans without answering her question.
“Fine,” she breathed out. “Anyway, I’m not looking for anything earth shattering either, but if you want a one and done, I’m definitely not your girl. I don’t jump into bed with anyone who takes a liking to me, and if you’re not okay with getting to know me as a person before you get access to my body, there’s the door.” Maggie motioned to the passenger side door and sat back in her seat with a small huff. “What’s your choice?”
Flux popped open the door and her whole body deflated in defeat. Really? Shit. She’d hoped he was better than that, but clearly she’d given him too much credit. Now, she was left pretending that the easy rejection didn’t sting like hell. Of course, it made all the sense in the world that a badass biker turned rodeo bullfighter would want easy, simple, wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am fun.
He bent down and looked inside the truck. “Why the hell are you still sitting there, Duchess? You’re the one who brought me here, although I can’t figure out why.”
His words were like a bucket of cold water poured over her head as she digested his rejection, which evidently wasn’t one at all. Before either of them changed their minds, she scooted out of the seat and slammed the truck door, leaving all of her worries behind.
With Flux’s quick stride and her nerves leading the way, it didn’t take them long to make it to the stables where the rodeo housed all of the horses for the circuit. Maggie was pretty positive Flux didn’t spend much time around there, given the fact that most rodeo employees tended to stick with their own kind—bull riders to bull riders, bullfighters to bullfighters, and so forth.
“Welcome to my home away from home.” Maggie slapped the side of the barn on her way into the musty, manure-smelling passage, and a horse neighed in greeting. “If you want to get to know me then this is the place to do it.”
She took a deep breath, cherishing the varied smells of leather and horse that most people couldn’t stand unless they lived in this world.
“Grab a shovel, big guy.” She stretched her arms out and didn’t wait for Flux to get with the program.
“So, you’re going to get our hands dirty—”
“So, we don’t get our hands dirty. That’s right. You’re quick on the uptake.” Maggie teased and looked back at the badass biker whose eyes were narrowed with both respect and something heavier, which she told herself not to look at too closely.
“We’ll start by mucking everything out and then we’ll replace the hay. Think you can handle it?”
“I can handle anything you throw my way, Duchess,” he said as he picked up the shovel.
Maggie watched the muscles in his arms bulge as he began working, and she quickly turned away.
It occurred to her that this may not have been such a hot idea after all.
CHAPTER SIX
Flux
Duchess was fucking clever as hell, Flux would give her that, but nothing about the exhausting, sweaty plan made a dent in his attraction toward her. He watched the way a bead of sweat ever so slowly disappeared down her T-shirt and wished he could follow it with his tongue. He licked his lips and jerked himself out of fantasyland. This woman was dangerous: He had to get his head on straight with her. A whiplash of frustration made him dig deeper into the pile of hay, sending chunks of the large bale in the wheelbarrow flying out and over them like snow.
&n
bsp; “Shit!” Flux looked up and his gaze fell on her perfectly shaped tits. “Fuck!”
“Is this too much for you?” Maggie laughed and walked over to him and picked a piece of straw out of his hair.
The small bit of contact set his whole body on fire. While she showed him the offending piece, it took every ounce of self-control not to throw her onto the fresh pile of hay behind them and let his hands do the talking for both of them. He must have made a face or something because she dropped the straw and backed away, and her delighted, cocky smile became more guarded.
“How does a guy like you end up fighting bulls in a rodeo?” she asked, almost too brightly, as she turned back to the pile they were shoveling and dug in for another round.
Fuck, he shouldn’t even be there, it went against his own rules. He was a damn mess. It was like as soon as he saw her at the bar, all his rules went to shit, and he didn’t understand it. She’s just a sweet piece. Nothing more. But then why did it feel like so much more?
“Are you going to share your story?” Her voice broke through his thoughts.
“Pass.” His fingers tightened around the shovel handle and he put his back into the work, this time being careful not to channel his annoyance with himself into the helpless hay.
“I didn’t know passing was an option.”
“This isn’t a date, Duchess.”
“Fair enough,” Maggie replied as she straightened out. She dropped the shovel and pulled her hair back with some kind of elastic band that women carried with them around their wrists.
Flux wanted to wrap her hair around his hands so bad. Nothing like a good tug on a chick’s hair while he pounded the hell out of her pussy.
“You have a funny look on your face. Haven’t you ever seen a woman pull her hair up in a ponytail?” Maggie stared at him.
He tipped his head her way. “Nice ink job.” When she’d swept her hair up, he’d noticed a delicate black and white horse shoe on the nape of her neck with a ring of purple flowers circled around it. He couldn’t guess the significance, outside of the typical good luck BS, but he had the strongest urge to kiss her right in that spot and run his hands down over that fine ass while he breathed in her sexy scent. Just thinking about all that made his dick rock hard in less than two seconds flat.
