Cowboy Not Included: The Boot Knockers Ranch, Book 6 (6 page)

Serves him right. Both of us should be deprived.

Chapter Five

Jesus, that woman knew how to please herself. Booker hadn’t slept so badly since Findlee was first born. Half the night he’d listened to the buzz of vibrators behind the closed bedroom door, imagining Skye in sexy poses until he’d finally taken hold of his cock and rubbed one off.

He sat on the edge of the sofa, head in hands. Aware she wasn’t letting him past the barricade to get to the bathroom, he’d hiked to the bunkhouse to shower and shave. On the way back he’d grabbed a breakfast tray.

It was going to be a fuck of a long day. He scrubbed his hands over his face. What he needed was coffee.

He got up and crossed the room. He rapped the door. “Breakfast, Sunshine,” he called.

No sound came from within. The damn woman was probably fast asleep, exhausted by all those orgasms.

He clamped off his curse and went to the breakfast tray. With quick movements he poured a black coffee and sipped the scalding brew without a grimace. He liked it strong and hot—he liked everything that way, actually. Especially women, which was how he’d ended up with Skye.

Throwing himself into a chair, he eyed the silver domes covering breakfast. He had a long day ahead. Besides fulfilling his promise to take Skye riding, he had chores. What he didn’t get done fell to the Boot Knocker who was off for the week—Teller. And an exhausted best friend meant he’d be out a sex partner.

He needed Teller in order to remain sane this week.

While she’s buzzed herself to exhaustion, I’m stuck breakfasting alone.

Yanking off one silver dome, he contemplated his low-carb meal—and his ex-wife.

He’d been a jerk to her, tying her up that way. But her revenge had surely been worse.

He picked up his fork and speared a sausage link. In two chomps, he devoured it. Then he attacked the roasted tomato with mozzarella cheese.

The noise of the door opening made him look up, fork paused halfway to his mouth. Skye emerged wearing sweats and a tank top, her hair awry.

Hell, could she look any cuter? He ruthlessly ripped a sausage in half with his teeth.

“Smells good,” she mumbled and took the opposite seat.

His gaze dipped to her breasts. Small, compact. Perfect for cupping, nibbling and sucking.

“I hope you had a good rest,” he practically growled.

Smiling, she forked her fingers through her hair. The warm brown layers fell into more disarray, which only made her more endearing.

“I did. I hope you did too.”

“I didn’t.” He tossed down his fork.

At his fit of temper, she arched a brow. “I hope I didn’t disrupt your sleep.”

“You know damn well you did.”

“Then you shouldn’t have brought me two vibrators. Or better yet, you should stop holding me prisoner here and let me have a real cowboy.”

He pressed his lips into a firm line to keep from saying anything he’d regret. After counting to twenty, he was able to speak. “When do you want to go for that ride?”

She removed the silver dome over her plate and gave a happy gasp. When her big brown eyes met his, he saw a shine of something old and familiar. “You remembered how much I love crepes.”

His fingers twitched to skim the delicate line of her jaw. He sat back against his seat and folded his arms. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh. I can’t wait to ride, but won’t it be nicer in the afternoon after the dew burns off?”

“Sweetheart, the dew’s gone. This is Texas.”

“I was hoping for a swim first,” she admitted.

Seeing her delectable curves in a swimsuit cutting through the water with the powerful strokes he remembered? Torture.

He couldn’t wait to strip out of his clothes.

“You brought a swimming suit?”

“Well…no. This is the Boot Knockers Ranch. I thought you swam naked?”

“I do, but you won’t.” Appetite fled, he replaced the dome with a crash.

She shook her head and placed a bite of crepe into her mouth. When her eyes closed in bliss, he thought he’d lose his mind. His cock was stretched to bursting.

“You still have a temper, I see,” she said around a mouthful.

“You know damn well what my temper’s like. I can control it.” With that, he stomped down his rising annoyance and gave her a happy smile.

“That’s the thing with you, Booker. I never knew when you were pretending.”

“I never pretended with you, Skye. Ever.”

“Are you going to say you pretended to like those women you flirted with? The secretary where you worked and the waitress at the diner down the block?” She gave a coy little laugh.

“Hell, yeah. But you’d never believe me, so there wasn’t any point in repeating myself.”

“This crepe is excellent.”

“I wouldn’t know.” At one time he’d enjoyed sharing crepes with her, but now he couldn’t touch them. The memories were too thick.

“Oh yeah, you’re keeping fit.” She happily shoveled more into her mouth. “I should probably keep fit too, but…”

“You don’t need it. You look amazing.”

She stopped chewing, her face blank. “I’m not somebody you need to flirt with.”

“I’m not flirting. You look fucking hot as hell and you know it.”

Leaning across the table, she said, “Do you think your friends know it too? Because I’m ready to do some damage to this ranch.”

He shoved back his chair so fast it nearly fell over. “Finish your breakfast and get into something you can swim in. I’ll come back for you in fifteen minutes.”

“Not a lot of time to linger over my coffee.” Those big espresso eyes melted him even as they raised his temperature five degrees.

He turned to the door. Once he was outside, he dragged a deep breath of hay-scented air into his lungs. She knew how to rile him, for sure. He couldn’t let her. If he were going to survive this week, he needed to get a firm grip on the reins. Of course, he could just tell her about his brother and things would be healed.

But no, he’d made a vow. Nobody knew and Booker had to keep it that way.

He dropped to the top step to wait for her. He didn’t trust her not to run to the nearest bungalow and find herself a Boot Knocker.

Ten minutes later she emerged wearing a bikini so skimpy she might as well have been naked.

A growl blistered his throat as he stood. Towering over her, he said, “I thought you didn’t have a swimsuit.”

“I lied.”

“Go back inside and change.”

“The only thing I’ll change into is my birthday suit. Now lead the way, Booker dear.”

Steam felt as if it projected from his nostrils all the way to the pool. The way she strutted across the ranch oozed confidence.

“You’ve lost some inhibitions,” he commented, leading her around a low wall to the shimmering blue water.

“I figured if I can’t channel my inner sexy on this ranch, where can I do it?” She approached the edge of the pool. Raising her arms, in one sleek move, she dived.

His breath stuck in his throat. One of the first dates they’d shared had been on her uncle’s ranch. She’d cut across the pond with such swiftness it left him breathless. But he’d caught up and captured her. Squealing and slippery, she’d wrapped herself around him and he’d kissed her for the first time.

As he watched her lap the pool, he stripped off his hat, boots and socks and hitched up his jeans. Seated at the edge, he dangled his feet in the water. It was already hot and a good, cool dip was tempting. But Skye was even more so. He couldn’t trust himself to get in with her.

She surfaced, hair dark and as sleek as a seal’s. When she smiled, he forgot there was a sun.

“Water’s great. Just cool enough from the night but warm enough I don’t even have goose bumps.” She lifted an arm and stared at it.

His mouth watered to suck all the moisture off her skin. Hell.

She pushed off and backstroked for several laps. It was impossible for him to tear his gaze from the tiny bikini bottoms or the triangles covering her breasts.

Finally he forced his gaze up to the transparent clouds hanging above them.

Wet hands encircled his ankles and he felt his entire body sinking into the perfect water. When he popped up, she was hooting with laughter.

He lunged for her but his jeans seemed to weigh fifty pounds. “You’re lucky I didn’t have my boots on.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time they took a soaking.”

They both sobered, and he drowned in memories of stealing through the dark streets to the apartment complex down the street from their house. Tiptoeing through the gate and leaping fully clothed into a pool.

“That was the hottest night I remember.” Was it him or were her words a bit breathy?

“It was a hundred and five that night.”

She shivered as if she were fevered in the cool water.

When he started unbuttoning his shirt, she watched, lips parted. He took pleasure in stripping out of his soaked shirt and revealing his muscles.

She gasped. “What the hell is that?”

He looked down, expecting to see a scorpion floating on the water. “What?”

“That!” She thrashed up to him and jabbed a finger at his chest.

“It’s a tattoo.”

“You didn’t have that on the website.”

“I got it after the photo was taken.”

“But…” Her gaze licked over the puzzle pieces inked on his flesh. Her brow crinkled.

“Look, don’t give me shit about it, okay? You have a nose piercing. I have a tattoo. We’ve both changed.”

She shook her head. “I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Good.” He cupped his hands and shoved the water. A wave struck her full in the face, and she screamed. Splashing ensued. He was much better at splash wars. With his big hands, he could create a tsunami.

She dived beneath the surface and popped out clear across the pool. He gave her a dark look and cut toward her.

“No,” she cried and went under again. He watched her shadow and sharked the perimeter to intercept her.

When she burst from the water, she was within grabbing distance.

He didn’t hesitate.

His arms locked around her. She fought but it only brought her closer. The glide of her soft skin over his ignited him.

“Fuck. Let me go, Booker.”

“You have a dirtier mouth than you used to. I hope you don’t cuss like a trucker in front of our daughter.”

A funny look crossed her features. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed.

He wouldn’t release her. Her full lips were inches away. Would one taste hurt anything?

His head said no. His body screamed for him to do it. But his heart said he’d worked too hard to distance himself to jeopardize his emotions.

Then she kicked. Her knee jabbed him dangerously close to the nuts, and he released her. She took five long strokes before turning to look at him again. Face flushed, eyes a little wild. Oh he remembered that look very well.

He glided toward her.

“You can’t act on what you’re thinking,” she warned.

More water flowed past him. “You don’t know what I’m thinking.” That was always the case. She jumped to conclusions about him.

Her back hit the wall and she twisted. Scrabbled onto the edge. Her chest heaved as she watched him come at her.

When he gripped her ankles and yanked, she fought like hell. He dragged her into the water. Locking her to his body, cradling her head, he looked into her eyes.

She fell still, gaze warning him, daring him.

He dipped his head.

With a violent shove, she dunked him. Water flooded his nose and ears. It filled his open mouth and he choked.

He came up sputtering while she hauled ass out of the pool. His chest burned from the gulp of water he’d taken but seeing her cute little behind as she leaped out of the pool was all worth it.

She stood at the side, arms folded, glaring.

“You didn’t have to drown me.” He coughed hard and shook his head to rid his ears of water. When he flashed her a smile, she gave a loud humph and turned on her heel.

By the time he scrambled out of the pool, grabbed his boots and caught up to her, she was surrounded by cowboys. Attentive Boot Knockers who’d rushed to a wet damsel in distress.

Son of a bitch.

A wall of man flesh surrounded Skye. She looked from broad chest to tanned pecs to rippling abs. Being in the center was sparking a new fantasy she never realized she’d had.

“Let me get you a towel, little lady,” someone drawled.

“Can I carry you back to your bungalow? I can keep you toasty warm.”

She gave an exaggerated shiver to show that yes, that was a fantastic idea.

“Get outta my way.” Booker shouldered his way through, and Skye shivered for real. The sight of his bare torso inspired a dark longing inside her. And she couldn’t go there.

“Please take me to my bungalow,” she said, sidling up to the cowboy who’d offered. In a blink he tugged her into his arms.

Booker growled. “This one’s off-limits.”

“Just like your toy cupboard, Booker?”

“Damn straight. You guys have your own ladies. Go tend to them.”

“Yours looked lonely. You aren’t doing such a good job with her,” the cowboy holding her said. He was as tall as an oak tree with a body just as sturdy. With his eyes that turned down slightly at the corners and the hardest lips she’d ever seen, he made her believe she was in love.

Snuggling closer, she shot a glance at her ex. He looked as if he could snap nails in two with his teeth. Good.

“She’s not complainin’,” Booker said.

She opened her mouth and he clapped a hand over it. Then he wrapped his arm around her and drew her against his very hard, very hot body. The scrap of red spandex covering her pussy seemed incredibly small all of a sudden.

When he turned and shoved his way through the knot of cowboys, disappointment flared in her.

“Set me down.”

His long legs ate up the ground. “You’ve had enough excitement for a morning.”

“I haven’t had nearly enough.” She squirmed but his grip grew firmer. He wasn’t letting her go. She might as well choose her battles, and this wasn’t one.

She bounced with his every step. His gaze skimmed her jiggling breasts, and awareness speared her. In the pool he’d been about to kiss her. He knew just what drove her crazy in bed.