Special Ops Cowboy

by Addison Fox

  Hotter. More breathless. Anticipatory.

  Reese Grantham tantalized and tempted, tugging at Hoyt in ways he’d never expected. And had certainly never predicted for the evening.

  When had things changed?

  They knew each other, sure. And he’d be a total liar if he didn’t admit to himself that he’d always found her attractive. But what was it about this night?

  This time?

  What was it about her?

  She was different from what Hoyt remembered and it wasn’t simply because of what had happened a few months ago. She still had that beautiful face, the elegant cheekbones set off against smooth olive skin that already showed the evidence of a summer tan. She still had the long legs and mouthwatering curves that even right now tempted him and had his fingers itching to settle on her hips once again.

  Maybe it was just right place at the right time.

  But even that felt like an excuse as he turned the idea over in his mind.

  She wasn’t easy and he wasn’t going to justify away this sudden shot of desire by trying to make himself feel better. There was something different about her but maybe there was also something different about him. Because after months of restless, aimless feelings, everything had suddenly settled in the past few hours in her company.

  That strange dissatisfaction that had ridden him—one that wouldn’t be assuaged by working the land or riding his horse or mending fences or any number of things he’d found to occupy his time—had vanished in the pretty face of Reese Grantham. It was like he’d had a perpetual buzzing in his ears for a year and now all he had was blessed silence.

  “Hoyt.” She whispered his name, pulling him from the aimless wandering of his mind.

  “Yeah?”

  Her lips feathered over his collarbone, drifting up his neck and on toward his ear. “I know this isn’t the answer, either.”

  He hung on to his control by a shockingly thin thread, but was willing to do it anyway to get out and leave her well enough alone. “No, it’s not.”

  “Then we’re agreed?”

  He shifted back, pulling his skin away from the tantalizing strokes of her tongue so he could look down at her. “Agreed on what?”

  “This might not be the answer to anything, but please don’t leave.”

  “I need to go.”

  “Do you?” Something sharp and deliberate stuck beneath her words, part dare and all temptation. He saw it clearly in the flash of heat in her gaze and the sultry pout of her lips. Moonlight filled the sky and, combined with her front porch lights, made it easy to read every emotion on her face.

  “You think I don’t?” he asked, well aware he’d like nothing else than to follow her up those steps and on through the front door.

  “All I know is we had a nice evening. We’re two grown adults and we’re both well able to determine how we want to spend the rest of it.” She held up a hand. “And before you blame it on two whiskey chasers, I can assure you I’m making this decision, not a few shots of liquor.”

  “You seem sure about that.”

  “I’m beyond sure.” She stepped back, removing her hands from his body, leaving a strange emptiness when she pulled away. “Aren’t you?”

  That dare grew stronger and Hoyt knew he wasn’t immune to her words. Nor was he immune to the increasing heat that had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the woman who stood before him.

  “Being sure about tonight isn’t the problem.”

  “Then what is?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  As excuses went, it was a cop out and Hoyt was gripping it with both hands. Hell, he’d claw at it with the tips of his fingernails if it would give him the ammunition he needed to hang on, get Reese Grantham through her front door and him back into his truck.

  “I’ve spent far too many days of my life worried about tomorrow. It hasn’t gotten me anywhere close to where I want. That’s why I’ve decided to focus on a new strategy. It’s called today.”

  “Why now?”

  “I can’t think of a better time to start.”

  Hoyt couldn’t, either. Against his better judgment—and in support of his most fervent desires—he pulled her into his arms.

  * * *

  The bright moonlight that had revealed every emotion on Hoyt Reynolds’s face was still in evidence when she walked with him into her room a short while later. Reese still wasn’t sure how it had all happened—she certainly hadn’t gone out looking for this tonight—but there was no way she was stopping.

  Especially when it all felt so right.

  It was why she’d pushed and poked at him with surprising persistence, even though she’d normally be unwilling to ask for what she wanted or be so brazen as to put voice to those thoughts.

  How long had it been since she was attracted to a man? Not the cursory allure that came with light flirting or the occasional date that turned into a second, but real, bone-deep attraction and awareness.

  And need.

  It was the need that had tripped her up and had her pressing him to stay while they were out on her front porch. In all reality, his resistance was not only gentlemanly, but had far more foresight than she was feeling at the moment. There was nothing between them and one night of sex wasn’t going to change that. Yet, for reasons that seemed a perfect fit with the evening, nothing about that bothered her.

  Instead, it was freeing.

  All her life, she’d been Reese Grantham, good girl. She’d done what was expected of her and, if she were honest, she was okay with that. She was also okay with a night of mindless sex with Hoyt Reynolds.

  And wasn’t that an amazing thought.

  All that had come before—all the decisions she’d made because they were right for her—extended here as well. This was right. And since she had a hot, virile male standing before her, it was high time she enjoyed it.

  With sure fingers, she reached for him, her hands playing along the hem of his untucked T-shirt. The cotton was soft and well-worn, heated from his skin, and she fisted her fingers in the material before dragging it over his head. Whatever she’d expected to see beneath, the hard abs, firm chest and impressively rounded shoulders were beyond her wildest imagination.

  “Wow.” The word was out on a hard exhale and Reese couldn’t have stopped it if she’d tried. “Those are some impressive muscles.”

  A small smile tilted up the corner of one side of his mouth. “Not sure I’ve ever gotten a wow before.”

  “Oh, you’ve gotten plenty, of that I have no doubt.” She gave in to temptation and ran her hands over all that glorious muscle. “It likely just happened out of earshot.”

  “I’m not sure—” His words ended abruptly as her explorations had her hands dipping decidedly close to the waistband of his jeans, the pads of her fingers trailing along the line of his belt.

  Pleased with the way his abs contracted beneath her touch, she lifted her head and pressed her lips against his, whispering as she did, “I’m quite sure.”

  Her initiative that had gotten them this far seemed to change in an instant. His willingness to stand still and take what she offered vanished as his arms wrapped around her, drawing her close. “You talk too much.”

  “I’m a teacher. It comes with the job description.”

  “Then let me teach you a new lesson.”

  Hoyt’s words were full of delicious promise and Reese quieted as he made good on his instructions. The hands that had remained at his sides went into action, drawing her blouse up and over her head before working some fast, clever magic at the close of her bra. In a flash, her bra slipped to the floor and his fingers had replaced the cool air-conditioning, covering her breasts even as his thumbs found her nipples.

  Heat arced through her, racing over her skin before settling low in her belly, pooling there. The sensation w
as so strong—so deep—she gasped at the need that sparked under her skin. With unspoken understanding, Hoyt pressed his lips to hers, his tongue filling her mouth in long, tantalizing strokes that matched the work of his hands.

  Pleasure exploded beneath and around and over the heat, drawing a light moan from deep in her chest. The thoughts that had been crystal clear when she’d walked in had fragmented, floating in abstract images of warm skin and vivid green eyes that remained steady on her and a hard, firm body that pulled the darkest, most wicked sensations from her. But one thought did gain purchase, rooting deep.

  This was right.

  Real.

  And there was nowhere else she wanted to be.

  Reese kissed him back, willing all that rightness into the moment, determined to enjoy every single second of their time together.

  Resuming her explorations, she reached for the button of his jeans, flipping open the closure and slipping beneath the waistband of both jeans and underwear. The solid strength of his erection met her hand, filling her palm as she gripped him more firmly. The stomach muscle contractions that had captured her attention flexed even harder in response to her touch, visible proof of what she already felt in her hands.

  “Reese.” He gripped her arm, firm yet easy in his hold, disengaging her from his body. “I’m not sure either of us are ready to end this too soon.”

  “I know I’m not.”

  “Then maybe you should let me set the pace.”

  Reese missed the feel of that warm flesh as he pulled her hand free and was nearly embarrassed for her eagerness until she caught sight of his cocky grin. “Are you laughing at me?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Ma’am?” The sultry cocoon that had woven around them vanished like disintegrating cotton candy and Reese took several steps back. “Did you just ma’am me?”

  “I did.” Hoyt coughed. “Ma’am.”

  “That’s the biggest insult I’ve ever—”

  Before she could get the rest of it out, all those large muscles she’d so admired went into motion, wrapping her up and pulling her close. His lips hit hers with the same momentum as his hold, and heat and need and a delicious sort of lightness filled her before she realized she was floating in his arms, heading for the bed.

  The momentum of his body carried them to the mattress with a heavy thud, his large form taking the brunt of her weight as she fell on top of him in a tangle of limbs.

  It was awkward and silly and laughter rumbled in her chest. “Smooth, Reynolds.”

  He answered her with a smile of his own, one that lit up his features like the sun clearing the clouds. “I guess I’m just going to have to try harder. Smooth,” he said as if to himself, before eyeing her with a wink. “I need to work on that.”

  And, oh, how he worked at it. He lifted his hands to thread through her hair, pulling her close for another kiss. The heat of his body pressed along hers, the delicious warmth of his chest against her breasts sensual and sexy and...right.

  So very right.

  And as far as smooth went... Hoyt certainly didn’t have to try very hard. Everything about him was smooth. And perfect. And beyond her wildest imaginings.

  Yes, she’d found him attractive. She’d be hard pressed to find a woman in the Pass or five surrounding counties who didn’t think any of the Reynolds boys were attractive. It was sort of a rite of passage to get a head nod or hat tip from one of them in town or leaving church or attending the annual summer festivals in the town center.

  But to be the recipient of all that sexiness up close?

  Wow was the understatement of the century.

  No matter how successful he and his siblings became in business, that success was steeped in the fact that they worked their ranch. His body was prime evidence of that fact, the thick ropes of muscles and work-worn hands the proof. Even as she enjoyed the results, Reese knew it was more than just the physical.

  He was a quiet man and while he was known for his surliness, she’d seen another side this evening. One that both warmed her and made her feel special. As if he’d pulled out that gentler side of his nature just for her.

  Aware her thoughts were veering into sentimental territory, she pushed them all away. Tonight wasn’t about analyzing the softer nature of hardworking cowboys or why said cowboy had decided to favor her with his time. It was about sex and a wonderful, mindless joining with another. She’d do well to remember that.

  He momentarily shifted from the bed, reaching for his jeans and a condom stowed in his wallet. That quick slip from the bed went a long way toward reminding her even further of what this was.

  Sex.

  Clearly, he’d ensured he was prepared should the opportunity come his way and she wasn’t going to get upset about it. Or think too hard about what it meant that she’d not considered protection at all.

  For all her internal admonishments to not be affected, something must have shown on her face. His gaze met hers in the dimmed light of her room, a distinct blush creeping up his neck. “I. Um. That’s been in there for a while.”

  She offered up a small smile before extending her arms, welcoming him back to bed. “I’m glad, since I hadn’t given protection much thought.”

  “You don’t keep anything? In your house?”

  “I think I may have something colored and vaguely dirty from a bachelorette party last year buried in the back of the medicine cabinet.”

  Hoyt resettled himself over her, holding his weight up on his forearms. “Dirty, you say?”

  “Very.”

  “Since my wallet stash extends to one, perhaps we can go hunting in the back of your medicine cabinet later.”

  The indication he didn’t have a stack of condoms waiting to be used on his person went the rest of the way toward defusing the situation and Reese deftly ignored the subtle sense of relief. Maybe he didn’t do this every week. Or maybe even every month. And maybe she wasn’t just a notch on his belt.

  And maybe you need to stop thinking, Grantham, and get back to feeling.

  Desperate for those gloriously mindless moments in his arms, Reese reached for the condom in Hoyt’s hand and did the work of sheathing him herself. In moments, he was repositioned above her, fitted intimately inside of her.

  It had been a while since she’d felt that delicious stretch of warm welcome, and she took him in, the thoughts that had dogged her fading as he began to move. And as pleasure once again took the place of thoughts or words, Reese gave herself up to the moment.

  And the mindless oblivion of making love with Hoyt Reynolds.

  The small, quiet neighborhood had settled down for the evening, the good citizens of Midnight Pass nestled snug in their beds. Normally, the small split-level with the neatly mowed lawn that sat toward the end of the lane housed the same. Front room lights that went on precisely each evening at eight o’clock and then snapped off promptly at eleven o’clock. A porch light that burned most evenings, whether the owner was home or not. And a driveway that remained persistently empty of guests.

  Only not tonight.

  The woman sat in her car, taking in the altered landscape and wondering what had finally made Reese Grantham snap out of that Prissy-Missy attitude and drag herself home a hot cowboy. If she didn’t hate Reese so badly—or bear such a deep-seated grudge and anger—she might have actually cheered for the woman.

  About damn time Prissy Missy got some.

  The stick that sat perpetually lodged in her ass must get awfully uncomfortable.

  But that large truck tucked up in the small driveway proved everyone had urges and needed to let ’em out for a walk every now and again.

  The real question, the woman thought, was how she could use this to her advantage. It would be easy to whisper a few words in some well-placed PTA members’ ears. Or drop a few hints down at the general store about what she’d see
n.

  But that would be easy. Crass, really. Besides, this game had gone on far too long to fold with such an easy hand.

  Gossips got discovered. And someone always remembered where they heard something first.

  As she pulled away from the curb and took one last pass in front of the house, that porch light still flaring bright this late at night, the woman knew what she needed to do.

  Bide her time.

  She’d waited this long, what was a bit more? The right moment would show itself. And when it did, she’d strike.

  Swift. Immediate. And utterly remorseless.

  * * *

  Reese talked too much.

  That was the first thought that drifted through his mind as Hoyt lay there, early morning summer sun beating over his eyelids. The second thought was that he couldn’t seem to find the energy to mind. In fact, he thought, with no small shot of surprise, he sort of liked it.

  Her voice was slightly husky—like just after she’d done that shot of whiskey—and drifted over him with a light, sultry drawl.

  “Just in case you’re concerned I have a big mouth, I won’t say anything to anyone.”

  “I didn’t think that.”

  “Good, because I’m not like that.”

  Hoyt often considered himself more perceptive than he usually let on—subtext wasn’t nearly as hard to read as others often made it out to be—but he’d have had to have been deaf to miss what lay beneath Reese’s words. Rolling to his side, he took in the flushed face and still-sleepy eyes. “I’m not worried about anyone finding out anything.”

  “But people saw us leave The Border Line.”

  “So?”

  “And your truck’s been in the driveway all night and now it’s morning.”

  “And?”

  He wasn’t quite sure why he was enjoying this so much—gossip had a way of causing problems, no matter how deftly you ignored it—but something about the little furrow that creased the space between her eyes and the small frown that marred those incredibly kissable lips had him smiling.