Trouble in Cowboy Boots (10 page)

Over and over he sketched her cunt with his tongue, tasting the wet flesh of her lips and plunging into the warmth of her vagina. A low moan drifted out on the air and she realized it came from her.

Wyatt’s tongue had a life of its own, plunging and plundering and driving her crazy. Emily tried her best to arch her hips to him but his grip on her was too firm. He laughed softly, the sound vibrating against her hungry flesh. He would drive her right to the edge of erotic pleasure, push her until that tight coil inside her was ready to snap, then back off until she was nearly out of her mind with the need to climax.

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“Please,” she begged, a sob catching in her voice. “Please, Wyatt.”

“Please what?” His deep voice resonated through her body. “Please let you come?

Please fuck you?”

“Yes, yes, yes.” She tossed her head from side to side, “All that.”

“Tell me, Em, and I might do it. But you have to say the words.” As he spoke in that low, thick voice his fingers rimmed her vagina and slid down to her anus to where the edge of the plug protruded.

“You know.” She was getting desperate, the hunger so acute she could barely stand it.

“I’ll know if you tell me.” His licked the tip of her clit. “Let me hear it, Em.”

“Please…let me come.” She nearly screamed the words.

“You know I control it, right, sugar? Tell me you know.” His voice was soft but demanding.

“I know,” she nearly sobbed. “I know, I know.”

“And?” he prodded.

“And what? Oh, god, please.”

“Tell me exactly what you want me to do. That’s your key to pleasure.”

“Fuck me!” She was so aroused, so on edge, she would have done anything, said anything, to have him inside her. “Fuck me, Wyatt.”

“With pleasure.”

She heard the snap of latex, sensed him positioning himself and then he was inside her, slowly filling her, his cock pushing at the butt plug through the thin wall separating them.

“Ready for the ride?” he asked, his lips barely touching hers.

“Yes. Now. Please.”

He moved in and out, slowly at first, letting her get used to the feel of the double penetration. Emily wrapped her legs around his waist, digging her heels into the base of 73

Desiree Holt

his spine, trying to urge him to move faster. She was hot and cold at the same time, nothing existing for her except this place, this time, this man and the plundering of her body. Her release hovered just beyond her reach, tantalizing her as her body strained for it.

“Look at me,” Wyatt commanded, deftly pulling off the blindfold.

She opened her eyes and looked directly into his, darkened now almost to slate, the flecks of gold and green like tiny jewels flickering there. His face was drawn tight with tension as he fucked her with a steady tempo.

“More,” she cried, pressing her heels into him harder. “Please, Wyatt.”

And then she couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, as he rolled his hips one last time and pounded into her with incredible force.

She exploded, everything disappearing but the giant spasms that rocked her body, the stars bursting in the black velvet that seemed to wrap around her, and the cock throbbing inside her as Wyatt spurted again and again into the latex sheath. She screamed his name as the muscles of her cunt clenched around him and milked every last drop from him. The orgasm gripped her and shook her until it seemed to be one giant, continuous convulsion.

She didn’t even realize her body had begun to relax until Wyatt reached up, deftly released her wrists and kissed her gently.

“Be right back,” he murmured.

She heard him moving around in the bathroom, disposing of the condom, running water, rummaging in the cabinet. She could do no more than lie there dragging air into her lungs and waiting for her thundering heart to resume a normal beat.

Then Wyatt was back, sitting beside her, massaging her stiff arms and rubbing cream into them. Turning her over and slipping the plug from her ass. Wiping her gently with a warm cloth.

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He turned her onto her back again and stroked her cheek with his fingers.

“Tomorrow night we’ll put the plug in and leave it there all night. Did you like it, sugar?”

She nodded.

“Words, Emily,” he prompted. “Remember? I have to hear the words.”

“Yes,” she told him in a weak voice. “I liked it.”

“Good. We’re gonna work on getting that sweet ass in shape for my cock.”

He climbed into bed next to her, pulled the covers over them both and tucked her body up against his. In moments he heard the even rhythm of her breathing that signaled she’d fallen asleep.

“You have definite possibilities, sugar,” he murmured very softly, his lips against her hair. “I might even be able to overlook your flaws in the kitchen.” He kissed the top of her head. “Better go to sleep. Long day tomorrow and maybe even a longer night.”

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Wyatt urged his horse into a slow trot as he moved from one section of pasture to another, his mind on other things than checking fences. But that was why he’d come out here with the men today, hopefully to distract himself. He was spending way too much time thinking about Miss Emily Proctor.

Settling down had never been high on his to-do list. He’d always figured it was something he’d do when he got too old to run around. After watching the disintegration of his parents’ marriage—and subsequent multiple remarriages—he’d made a vow not to put himself in a position like that.

He’d wanted Emily from the first minute he laid on eyes on her, dragging into the Blue Belle with her friends, looking like the end of the world was at her doorstep.

Hiring her as a cook had been an impulse and had worked out exactly the way he expected—she had no idea what a kitchen was used for. But she’d been a trooper about digging in and learning and the food she was turning out now was way more than edible.

Taking her to bed had been a risk. Introducing her to the kind of sex he liked even riskier. She could have run screaming into town and told Sam Campbell she’d been hired by a sex maniac. But instead she’d accepted everything not just willingly but enthusiastically. She’d gone from mild trepidation to eager anticipation and now the sex was so hot they nearly set the sheets on fire.

But in the course of teaching her the pleasures of erotic sex flavored with BDSM

something had happened to him. Those things called emotions he usually kept under tight lock and key were giving him fits. If he didn’t watch himself he’d be asking Emily to stay permanently at the Lazy Aces. And that would be a big mistake. The minute he let his emotional guard down, made a commitment, she’d either be whining about 76

Trouble in Cowboy Boots

something the way his mother had, or he’d be bitching the way his father had, or the two of them would be spending nights in other people’s beds.

One of the reasons Wyatt had bought this place was to get as far away from his parents as he could and, if he was honest with himself, hide from civilization as he knew it. He’d taken all his rodeo winnings and invested it in this place and it had paid off. Now he had to make sure he didn’t lose control of things.

As he thought about what he planned to send the right message to Emily—at least what he thought was the right message—a sour taste rose from his stomach to his mouth. This just wasn’t his style. But a man had to protect himself, right? Even if it did probably mean giving up the best sex he’d ever had in his life.

* * * * *

Emily moved slowly around the kitchen, doing her prep work for supper, setting the table—something she’d learned to do ahead of time—and checking on the meat. She was slow cooking a roast in the oven the way Amelia had told her to do and it smelled heavenly. Who’d ever have thought she’d be able to cook anything that smelled so good? She laughed to herself.

It hardly seemed possible that she’d been at the Lazy Aces for almost three weeks.

Her cooking had improved to the point she could prepare a meal herself and
almost
not burn or overcook anything. Hardy had finally stopped tossing her biscuits around at breakfast, the message from the others loud and clear that he was destroying perfectly edible food. Amelia only showed up every other day now, the lessons leaving her with containers of food to mix and heat, stir and heat or just dump into the microwave and heat. And while breakfast had a long way to go before being pronounced a gourmet feast, she could handle it by herself and get everything to the table on time. Even the double seatings didn’t scare her so much anymore.

As she worked she thought about her conversation the day before with Lola and Roxie. Wyatt had started letting her take one of the ranch trucks into town Sunday 77

Desiree Holt

afternoons to spend time with her friends. Lola’s boss at the Blue Belle encouraged her to pack picnic lunches for them—one of the benefits of small town life—and they’d drive to a place by Rockbottom Creek where the county had set out picnic tables, and spent the afternoon eating and gabbing.

Just yesterday they had discussed their current situation and tried to figure out what the immediate future held for them. Money was still in scarce supply even when they pooled everything they had.

“I know we should go,” Lola said, nibbling on a chocolate chip cookie, “and god knows this town could bore you to death after five minutes. But…”

“But?” Roxie prompted.

“But I don’t know if I’m ready to move on yet.” She brushed crumbs from her fingers. “Besides, we still have to figure out our transportation. And secondly…”

“Secondly?” Emily said.

Lola sighed. “Call me crazy but I kind of feel as if we have a time out from life here.

You know, all the craziness we’ve lived with for so long. Vegas glitz.”

“Your reluctance to examine our options wouldn’t have anything to do with the wickedly sexy Sheriff Campbell, would it?” Emily wanted to know.

Lola actually blushed. “Let’s just say Sam and I are finding new ways to pass the time.” She looked at Roxie. “And how many times now have I seen you and Cliff in the Blue Belle having a meal and looking like you were the only two people in the world?”

Roxie grinned. “We’re just feeding the inner man, girls. After all, he
is
my boss.”

Lola flapped a hand at her. “Big deal. Did you see anyone looking over your shoulder and waving a red flag? Besides, it’s not as if we’ll be here forever.” She glanced over at Emily. “And what about you, missy? The last time I saw you and Mr.

Cowboy Boots in Chaps you were dancing so close I wasn’t sure one could breathe without the other.”

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Now it was Emily’s turn to feel heat on her cheeks. No way would she give up the details of what was becoming an increasingly kinky form of sex with Wyatt Cavanaugh.

Some nights she barely had time to shower after she straightened the kitchen and dab on some cologne before he was at her bedroom door, a predatory grin on his face, hot desire in his eyes and an erection barely restrained by his jeans. Sometimes during the day she could hardly concentrate on what she was doing as thoughts of what they did at night roamed through her mind.

The one thing the three women had agreed on was for the moment they were stuck where they were. The car wasn’t really salvageable and it was taking forever to save up enough money for some kind of new wheels.

“Besides,” Emily pointed out. “It’s not as if we even know where we’re going.”

And where
am
I going,
she wondered as she gave the counter a last swipe.

If anything bothered her it was the emotional feelings she was developing for Wyatt. In the end that might be what finally drove her away. He’d been very clear that he was only looking for a playmate, that she was the perfect candidate because she was temporary, and that they could enjoy themselves for whatever time she was at the Lazy Aces. She’d had her eyes on bigger and better things, but the sex was beyond anything she’d ever enjoyed so it seemed like a good deal. And he was very diligent about making sure nothing happened to cause the men to lose respect for her. For that she was grateful.

He’d taken her to Chaps a few more times, obviously not caring about who saw them dancing as if they were welded together, or who questioned his taking his cook out for the evening. On the dance floor they moved slowly to the music, having found a rhythm that fit them both, and the dancing always became a teasing prelude to afterward, when the sex would be hotter and wilder than ever. He turned her inside out, his dominant nature in the bedroom a bigger turn-on than she’d ever thought it could be. No problems there.

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What happens when Wyatt gets tired of me? Will he decide Diana Landry is a better, less
complicated companion? Someone more suited to his unfettered lifestyle?
The woman had certainly been all over him like white on rice whenever Emily and Wyatt were in Chaps.

It seemed the last few times he hadn’t been quite as determined to fend her off. How could she go on working here if this thing between them—whatever it was—fell apart?

In disgust she hung up the dishtowel and her apron, poured a glass of iced tea and took it out on the back porch with her. She had finally adapted to the hours at the ranch, and now the aches in her body were from more pleasant exercise than cleaning the kitchen or standing at the stove.

But over the past few days she’d been battling with feelings that were giving her fits. As she rocked and sipped she tried to figure out what to do. She was about to head back inside for another cold drink when she heard the whine of a big truck engine coming down the drive, the spray of gravel as it stopped and the slam of a truck door.

She stood up and walked to the end of the porch, curious as to who it was. Wyatt was out riding fences with his men and hadn’t mentioned expecting anyone.

Her eyes popped when she saw Diana Landry striding toward the back porch. It wasn’t so much the woman herself, although that was a shocker, as the outfit she was wearing. The shorts rode so high on her thighs they were nearly indecent. A sleeveless blouse hung open over a strapless halter that barely contained her breasts. Wild curls danced on her shoulders as she walked and her lip gloss glinted in the sun.