Burn for Cowboy (Stampede Sizzlers) (7 page)

 It was…nothing.

Easing away, she stared up at Adam who looked angry and aroused. Slowly, she shook her head. “You don’t get me.”

“Come on, Meri.” His lip curled and she saw that boy again who had kicked her out of his truck. “Then why are you here?”

“Good-bye, Adam.” She walked toward the hotel door and something lightened in her chest. Adam Payne at thirty was the same person he had been at eighteen. Had she loved the boy? Yes. First love, first heartbreak. He had said it himself, though. The golden boy she had loved existed only in her head. Had loved. Had
. Key word there, Meri. Had.

****

Meri tightened the laces of the ice skates. While the rest of the city, including Mike, was at the Stampede and getting their cowboy on, Meri had sought her haven. The skates were a rental and she didn’t like the feel of them. They felt wrong, like they were on the wrong feet. But the ice was almost empty and that made everything perfect.

She tucked the ear buds for her iPod into place, blocking out the noise of laughter echoing off the ice and open ceiling. This she knew. This was familiar.

She made her way to the ice, her nose wrinkling at the feel of the skates. She wanted her own.

She wanted to go home.

Back to where everything was familiar and she knew what the rules were. The blade made the first slice on the ice and calm settled inside her. After the accident, she had hated the ice.

What had once been a dream had turned into something…grueling. Her father’s domineering personality for her to “go for gold, Meredith” had taken a lot of joy out of skating. Had she wanted that gold medal that said she was the best? Hell yes. Wasn’t that every competitive athlete’s dream?

Her routines at the juniors had been flawless. As her grandfather had said to her with a hug, she had been poetic.

Then a screech of metal had changed it all.

Nothing like trying to walk again to put things in perspective. The gold medal hadn’t been the pinnacle of her dream. Skating had been the pinnacle.

She stopped in the middle of the rink and stared down at the ice. The cool air against her skin was recognizable, a welcome kiss. As the familiar drumbeat of Fiona Apple filled her ears, she tapped her toe pick into the ice, keeping rhythm. As soon as the smoky, honey voice flowed out, she began to skate.

Yes, this world was familiar. She didn’t have to think as she wove around some skaters. A bracket turn had her skating backwards and returning to center ice. She missed jumps. For her there had been no rush like completing a difficult jump. There was too much damage to muscles to land properly now, not that it stopped her when she was coaching.

She spun instead, hoping the momentum would clear her head. Her hands reached her breasts then automatically reached for the ceiling as she looked up. No men, no sex, no Adam, no Mike, no emotions but this. There was only this.

Freedom.

The ice.

The world was blurry and that suited her just fine. The headless spin slowed, the merry-go-round ride ending so she let the momentum carry her out beyond the center ice where she lost herself in the music and ice.

Adam Payne.

The name whispered through her mind and she skated a little faster to escape. She didn’t want to think of Adam, of the past, of the present, anymore. He had dumped her ass in front of her school. End of story.

But
, a little voice whispered in her head,
if the story was really over you’d stop being scared of loving Mike.

She turned her foot and came to a sharp halt, shavings of ice puffing up from the blade.
“What hurts you is not allowed.”

Chapter Seven

412
. The number bounced around his head, making him a little crazy. What had happened in room 412? The text Meri had sent a few hours ago had said she had found an indoor skating rink open despite it being July. He should be relieved she wasn’t with Adam anymore, but he wasn’t.

He felt irrational and he had no one to blame but himself. He had started this ball rolling. Yes, he wanted Meri happy. But he wanted her to be happy with him.

Meri skating was bittersweet. He remembered the way she had glided across the ice when she had been ten years younger. She’d been a tiny, fearless temptress on blades. He had seen the makings of a champion when she had skated then. Too bad her father had been a greedy asshole. When it came to the underage athletes, he took their parents into careful consideration since he had to deal with them.

And he had hated Samuel Heaven. He was a man who saw gold when he looked at his daughter. Not the golden hair or the way she had gleamed on the ice. No, Meri’s father had seen an Olympic medal on ice. Heartless, cruel, and greedy. And that was before he had known what the dickhead had done when Meri had been in that accident.

That vivacious girl had grown up.

Resting his elbows on his knees, Mike watched her gracefully flow on the ice from his spot in the bleachers. She could’ve been alone out there. The girl had seen the ice as a battle to be won. The woman saw it as a lover.

Far sexier than any routine she had done as a teenager.

She found a spot free of interruption and extended her right leg behind her and spun elegantly. Once she had said the hardest part of getting back onto the ice was the fear of falling, of being able to do nothing but glide. As she spun, she lowered her leg then skated backwards; one would never know that there was a rod in her leg.

Finding her hadn’t been as hard as he had considered. He had gone to the concierge of their hotel and asked the location of the nearest skating rink open in mid-July.

Fuck, she was pretty out there.

She had been one of the main reasons he had gone after representing Kyla Wilson. Not just because Meri was beautiful and made all the primitive sides of him sit up and growl with want, but because he remembered that girl back in Granville.

Her speed slowed and she returned to center ice. She came to a stop and stared down at the ice. Meri slid her right foot back and forth, touching her thigh as if she was judging how it felt.

“Do it,” he said softly against his clasped hands. She pressed the toe pick into the ice, looked around then pushed off. Fine strands of hair rose away from her face as she found the path she wanted.

He held his breath. She zipped by a little girl holding her mother’s hand, did a little hop then was skating backwards. His heart slowed in his chest when she looked over her shoulder and aimed for the empty center. Her right leg inched up as she glided. It swung back then she was flying. Not high, but she was up.

He smiled as she spun one and a half times, arms tucked against her chest, hair flaring out. She landed with a tiny wobble, her hand massaging her thigh. The toe pick was planted into the ice and she turned.

There you are, he thought as those soft dove grey eyes met his.

He stood and walked down the bleachers while she slowly skated toward him. He didn’t like the way she was massaging her thigh. It meant she had been out there too long, and she over-extended herself.  Her cheeks were flushed from the cool air and the exertion. Her eyes still looked sad. Damn it. He wanted the smile back in them.

The boards around the rink separated them. “Are you leaving me?”

Her question hit him in the solar plexus like a body check. He rested his forearms on the smooth wood so they were eye level. “No. Were you listening to me before the sun came up this morning?”

“Yes, but…”

“What did I say?”

A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away. “That you wouldn’t walk away.”

Reaching out, he cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing her lips that were cool from the air conditioning. “Start believing, Meri. Is ice therapy over, or are you going to punish your leg a little bit more?”

She blushed and he wondered how long she’d been out on the ice. While she glided to the exit, he walked beside her. There was no hesitation when she took his hand and let him guide her over the padded floor to sit. Crouching down, he unlaced the skates.

“I owe you an apology,” he said, cupping her calf as he tugged her skate off with his left hand.

“You do? Why?”

“Apparently I’m possessive when it comes to you and that makes me a little irrational at times.” Leaning down, he pressed his mouth against the denim covering her thigh. Even through the fabric he felt the abused muscles twitching and tightening. “Now, where are your shoes?”

She pointed down the bench and he retrieved her sandals with the phone tucked in the toes. He eased the shoes in place, sliding her phone and MP3 player in his back pocket. After hooking the blades over his fingers, he scooped her up.

It was time to take her back to the hotel and do what he had failed to do last night – look after her.

****

Meri stretched out on the sofa, her head resting on Mike’s thigh while he watched everything he had missed at the rodeo. The masseuse he had requested had just left and he had a very relaxed woman on his hands. Room service was on its way up to continue the quiet night in. A commercial came on and he glanced down at Meri, her eyes shut as she napped.

Instead of the hotel robe, she wore one of his shirts. There was possessive satisfaction when she did that. Of course, he’d rather have her naked. He’d also rather be home.

Gently, he brushed the hair from her cheek then tickled her neck. Her shoulder rose to stop him. A half-hearted swipe at his hand and she brushed her face along his leg as if that would make him stop. Reaching down, he popped open the two buttons between her breasts. By the time he peeled the light blue fabric aside, her nipples were hard. “Faker.”

He teased the tip, enjoying the shape of her small, round breasts. She had perfect tits. They drowned in his palm and looked exquisite when he was torturing them. “If you keep faking it, I’m going to stop,” he warned. He rolled one nipple between his fingers hard enough that he saw her stomach tighten. Her eyes opened then closed. He pinched and pulled on the swollen tip.

She arched up as a pleasure-pain sound came from her. The ads were over and it was time to pay attention again. Pity. Watching Meri was far more entertaining then some dull rodeo. Cowboys eating dust were nothing compared to her. Reaching down, he took one hand that rested over his thigh. He drew her finger into his mouth as the announcer went on and on about the next guy’s family’s legacy. Luke O’Connor. He already knew the kid’s past. His dad used to ride bulls. O’Connor would also spend occasional summers visiting a farm neighboring Mike’s parents so he had hung out with the twins. Mike’s memories were hazy of the kid. But Mike had recognized O’Connor’s name and bio listed in the bareback bronc riders. He wondered how the boy who had run wild with the younger Rossi boys would measure up to the past glory of his father.

Mike lowered her hand between her legs and circled her finger over the piercing. She cried out, writhing beneath the slow caress. His hand returned to her breast while his left hand reached for his pen. A black cowboy hat was pulled low over Luke’s eyes and his fingers flexed out before, one at a time, he gripped the strap on the bronc’s shoulders. An abrupt nod and the chute opened. While Mike teased Meri with hard pinches, gentle caresses and sharp tugs, he watched the ride. Luke had eight seconds to stay on, keeping one arm above him.

Insane, Mike thought. Who the hell would do that? For fun! Give him skates and ice any time instead of some heavy, pissed off horse that could kick his head inside out. The hat disappeared and just like that Luke’s ride was over. He made a note of the time, marked the horse and turned his attention to Meri. Her other hand gripped his thigh as she arched and twitched, her hand sliding wickedly against her bare pussy. Sweet, he thought. She gave little tugs on the silver ball. Her lips parted and she arched up, her hips jerking. She was so sexy when she came, lost in the pleasure. And when pain was involved…well that took his breath away. “Harder.”

His gaze flicked to the screen, saw it was someone he had already discounted from going all the way and returned to the live show. Her fingers slick with her arousal pinched the sensitive flesh around the ball.

“Harder. Until it hurts in your hair, little love.”

Her eyes snapped open but he knew she didn’t see him. Her toes curled into the fake leather as she bent her legs, her back bowing up and up. He caressed over the smooth arch of her stomach and covered her fingers to tighten the vise. A scream escaped and she came, her body twitching with pleasure. Mike leaned down and licked the warm cream trickling from her. Sweet. Sensual. Erotic. All that Meri was. He gripped her ankles, holding her open for him. Damp fingers curled into his neck and she began to respond against him.

Her second orgasm pulsed through her and over his tongue, and she cried out his name, begging him to fuck her. Oh he liked that.

Instead he kissed her sore thigh and shifted above her. Her cheeks were flushed and glistened with sweat. “Dinner is here. Why don’t you let him in?”

“What?”

“That’s not your heart knocking, little love. That’s dinner.” He caressed up her belly. “Let him in.”

She lay there, panting then slowly she sat up. Her hands shook too much to do up the buttons so he eased her between his legs to do so. She looked like someone who had just come twice and was ready to be fucked hard. Her nipples pressed against the shirt, her eyes were glassy and she smelled better than any dinner. He slapped her ass and she slowly made her way to the door.

She favored her leg but mostly the trouble was because he had just made her come twice and her legs were, no doubt, a little shaky. That made him smile and he returned to watching the rodeo. The waiter who followed Meri in clearly knew what had been going on since he was eying her up like she was his own personal cupcake.

Mike stared at the waiter, envisioning body parts being slowly and painfully removed. When Meri fidgeted with the edge of his shirt, trying to hide her scar, Mike had enough. Any arousal that had been in her was gone thanks to the man leering at her. He held out his hand to her. “No to this,” he said in a low voice, stilling her fingers pulling on his shirt. “Set that down right there,” he ordered and he tugged her hand. She settled down on his thigh, fingers making sure all the buttons were done up.