Reforming the Cowboy

by Marisa Cleveland

  She’d known Billy was temporary. She’d protected herself by adopting a cavalier attitude toward men. But getting to know Billy had been a dream come true, and it wasn’t the hotshot or the washed-up bad boy. It was the man who’d faced his phobia and entered a hospital to play for sick children.

  Her conversation with Chip cleared up one key fact. Tonight would be her last night with Billy, and after tonight, she might never see him again. They hadn’t discussed beyond tomorrow, and even though she knew she had to focus on her café, a part of her couldn’t help but realize she’d never meet another guy like Billy for as long as she lived.

  She blinked back a tear, hating how she could almost hear her heart crack. Over a kiss and a couple of songs.

  Chapter Eight

  “Time for the fireworks,” Billy announced into the microphone.

  As the café cleared out, he met Lacey by the door and followed her into the street. But instead of moving with the crowd to the beach to watch the night’s display, he stalled her with a hand to her arm.

  “Hold up. Is Chip around?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “He took Shawna to a club on Ocean Drive.”

  “Good.” He draped an arm over her shoulders. “I want you all to myself tonight.”

  She shivered but leaned into him. Bursts of color filled the sky, and she tilted her head back to admire the view. He looked down into her face, and he watched the fireworks through the sparkle in her eyes.

  She touched his strong jaw. “You were great tonight.”

  “Was I?” He kissed her temple.

  “As if you couldn’t tell with the deafening applause and room full of women screaming your name.”

  “Here, I’m a nice-sized fish in a little pond.”

  She exhaled. “Big fish with lots of fans. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how the people crowd around you. You’re very good to your fans.”

  “It is nice to talk with them, to interact. I was never able to do that before.”

  “When you were an untouchable country star?”

  He scoffed. “I don’t know about that. But it did feel like there was this invisible wall. I never wrote my songs for the charts or the critics. I wrote them for every person who ever struggled through anything in life.”

  Her voice was low when she said, “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

  He whispered, “I know. Me too.”

  “But you have to.” She twisted in his arms and faced him. Sparkles and booming from the fireworks drowned out the rest of the night. “You need to strike while the iron is hot.”

  “It’s one song. I could change my flight. I could…” He gazed over her head. He’d known from day one that his return flight was for Friday. Tomorrow was Friday. It was time to go home. But still, he said, “I could record it and come back.”

  It shocked him to suggest it, but she killed that idea with a shake of her head. “I can’t ask you to return. You have a career to launch, and I have my café.”

  He refused to believe this attraction was one-sided. “Chip hasn’t even confirmed my studio time. It might be as late as next week.”

  “Are you serious?” She gazed at him with doubt in her eyes. Like she couldn’t understand what he was getting at.

  It scared the hell out of him, but a part of him finally understood what his dad had been thinking when he gave up touring to be with his mom. Now, Billy had this thing that might develop with Lacey, and Shawna hounding him only served as a reminder of what he’d left behind, and truthfully, he wasn’t even sure he missed it all that much. “Waiting one week is not going to make a difference.” Except it would give him more time to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of them. And it would prove to the industry that he wasn’t panting at their feet.

  “I can’t hold you back. I can’t keep you here. I would feel guilty.”

  Hold you back. He needed to write another song and title it “Hold You Back” and dedicate it to Lacey. His mind whirled through a thousand different melodies, but short of ending their conversation, he knew his creativity would have to wait. After he left, would the music still flow through his brain so freely as it did when he was around her? He couldn’t leave just yet. He needed to finish the album. “Feel what you want, babe, but until Chip books the studio or you kick me out, I’m not leaving.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, and his gaze immediately zeroed in on her tempting cleavage. “I don’t know what to say to that. No, I do. Why would you stay?”

  “I’m writing again. I’m in the zone, and I need to find out how my latest song ends.”

  She studied him for a long moment. What did she see? He knew her opinion of him when he first arrived, but had that changed? “Tell me about Shawna.”

  Definitely a topic he did not want to discuss. “Do we have to? What’s there to know?”

  She sounded like she didn’t want to hear the answer when she asked, “Do you still have feelings for her?”

  “Yeah.” He knew he shouldn’t mess with her, but what did she expect him to say? Too bad he felt guilty the moment he saw her face fall.

  “Oh.” He heard the disappointment in her voice and hated how he’d inadvertently hurt her.

  Cupping her chin, he forced her to look at him as he grinned. “The kind of feelings where if she were stranded on the side of the road, I’d be happy. I’m not proud of it, and I might even call a tow, but I wouldn’t offer her a ride in my truck.”

  Her face brightened immediately, despite the fact he’d just called himself out as a first-class jerk. “You have a truck?”

  “Are we done talking about my boring ex?” The fireworks increased in pace, and he moved her in front of him and rested his hands on her shoulders.

  “She wants you back.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “She wants a lot of things she can’t have. Can we please focus on what I want?”

  They watched the fireworks in silence, and when the finale faded, he and Lacey slipped back into the empty café.

  “I’ve got to clean up,” she said, and he nodded. She disappeared into the kitchen, and he slid into a booth.

  She exited and regarded him warily. “I’m surprised you’re still here.”

  He flipped a grin. “I thought I’d walk you home.”

  She licked her lips and cocked her head to the side. “Give me thirty minutes. I need to straighten up out here.”

  He watched her spray the chairs and tables. Grabbing a cloth, he followed her around the room, wiping the tops. “What made you decide to open a coffeehouse?”

  She tilted the chairs upside down on the tables. “My friend, Vivien, works in a bar, and I didn’t want the hours or the horror stories.”

  He chuckled. “One of the first investments Chip convinced me to make was in a run-down bar in Nashville.”

  She disappeared into the kitchen, and he continued to upturn the chairs. When she returned, she asked, “You own a bar?”

  “One half of a half of a percent of a run-down bar. Me and a dozen other guys.”

  “Imagine that. Billy the businessman.”

  “That bar helped support me this past decade.”

  She rolled out a bucket and mop and wiped down the stage. “Wow, sounds like Chip did you a favor.”

  “He made sure I put money aside. I think I might own stock in Harley and Coke.” He took the mop from her and dragged it across the stage.

  She stood in the center of the room, her chin tilted up as she gazed at him. “Why are you telling me this?”

  He finished mopping the stage and handed her back the mop. “So you know I’m not some washed-up guy.”

  “I never thought that.”

  “Look, Lacey, my dad gave up music for my mom. But when he had me, it was like he had a second chance to make it in the music industry. Then, right when I was about to really make a name for myself…”

  “Shawna cheated on you.”

  He froze and looked up. “What? No. He died in that
car accident.”

  She paused what she was doing and looked at him. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I was fifteen, and with my dad’s persistence, I’d gotten noticed by some producer when I was playing at one of the street festivals. But then that accident happened and the year in a coma and then…yeah.” He shook his head and sank onto the edge of the stage. “I already told you this.”

  She didn’t say anything, but she nodded to him, a silent peace developing between them. She disappeared back into the kitchen with the mop and bucket while he stretched on his back, his arms behind his head, his legs bent over the edge of the stage. Dim lighting from the edge of the room cast shadows, and he closed his eyes.

  The sound of Lacey’s cowgirl boots clicking toward him made his pulse increase.

  “Is it hard being here?” Her voice was quiet and thoughtful. “Being so close to finally living your dad’s dream?”

  Yeah, but how would she know? Without moving, he asked, “Why do you ask?”

  “Because it’s a coffeehouse, and compared with the Grand Ole Opry where you were going to perform, this must seem so small. And because even though dozens of women ask for your autograph, I saw how you looked at Dina and her entourage. Do you miss the fame?”

  She was perceptive. He liked that about her. Hell, he liked a lot about her. Why else was he offering to return? Why else would he consider trying to find a way to keep her in his life? “I’m fine. I don’t want to be the person I was when I had what I had. But I want my songs to be heard.”

  “And they will be. Chip will make sure of it.”

  He felt her sit next to him, but he wasn’t expecting to feel her palm on his thigh. The heat seared through his jeans and pulled on his cock. Did she even realize how her touch affected him? He swallowed back the moan and said, “Well, at least you got what you wanted.”

  “Did I?”

  He clarified, “The suits and their superstar sure brought you plenty of Benjamins tonight.”

  She laughed, and he liked the sound of her voice. “Do people even say Benjamins anymore?”

  “I just did.”

  She stared down at him. He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He wanted to savor their time together. Gently, he cupped the back of her neck. Her heat seared him, and when he tugged her down toward him, she followed. She twisted her torso, braced her hands on either side of his head, and then covered his mouth with hers. He tasted coffee and sugar and victory.

  His other arm lifted her over him and crushed her to him, and it was only the afterthought that, holy hell, they were making out on a stage that had him pushing her to stand on the floor while he balanced on the ledge. Her eyes flamed with intention, and he quickly reversed their positions, lifting her onto the stage to sit in front of where he stood. Tonight she wore a cotton skirt, and he spread her legs to stand in the V of her thighs. The stage made the perfect height, and his cock strained against his zipper.

  She dug her hands through his hair and he felt her ankles lock around him. From her pocket, she withdrew a condom, and if ever that was a yes, he heard it loud and clear.

  Brushing back her hair and exposing her neck, he licked and sucked his way to her collarbone and then the scoop of the tank top. He gripped her hem and he met her gaze. She nodded and he lifted, stretching the fabric over her head. Then he stared in awe at how beautiful she looked with her breasts cupped in pink lace.

  His palms covered them and his thumbs stroked over the nipples, and behind the bra he felt them harden. She moaned, and all thoughts of slow and savoring flew from his lust-clouded mind. Then she was grabbing him and kissing him and fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, and his chest was exposed and her bra straps were shoved down and his mouth couldn’t decide which nipple it wanted to lick, so he pressed them together and flicked his tongue over one and then the other, and he registered how right he’d been that her breasts were real and warm and pliable, and he wanted more of her.

  He grabbed her bare thighs and dragged his rough palms up her legs, exposing her panties. She pressed a hand over his cock before wrenching on his belt buckle, but he stopped her, grabbing her wrists and placing both her hands on his shoulders. She shot him an irritated smile, but she kept them there while he hitched his fingers on either side of her panties. She wiggled to help him slide them over her ass and had to close her legs for the briefest of moments while he slid the offending object to the floor. But then she was exposed, her bare ass on the fabric of her miniskirt, the front bunched up to her stomach.

  He pressed open her legs and swirled his fingers around her slick moisture. When she arched back, nails digging into his shoulders, he bent his head to capture her breast. While he licked, he also used his fingers to caress her into a moaning frenzy. She squirmed and wrapped her hands in his hair and then with a shockingly loud gasp, she whispered, “Coming.”

  He felt her explode and a liquid heat rushed and convulsed around his fingers. He kept tugging and sucking and swirling until the last of the pleasure rippled over her. She sagged against him, her cheek on his shoulder. His own cock ached to be free.

  “Oh my,” she murmured, and slowly lifted her head to meet his gaze with a dazed one of her own. Then, she smiled and reached for his buckle. “Your turn,” she teased. The zipper opened with ease, and the jeans crashed down, along with his boxers. His cock jerked free.

  He quickly rolled down the condom and without giving her a moment, he nudged the tip into her. So hot and wet. He pushed her back to lean on her arms, and he dragged a hand down from her neck, between her breasts, across her stomach, to the tip of her core. As he buried himself inside of her, he touched her sensitive flesh. She squeezed her thighs around his hips and bit her lower lip and watched as he entered her again and again.

  …

  They were having sex onstage, and Lacey’s mind kept repeating how good it felt and how size did matter. She’d always been slow to orgasm, but given how she’d just exploded from his touch, she knew it wasn’t her fault. That thought had her blissfully happy and feeling fully alive, and she couldn’t stop staring as Billy’s cock stretched her repeatedly. It fit perfectly, and if he didn’t stop rubbing her, she was going to come again. She’d always wondered if multiple orgasms existed.

  She wanted more of Billy, and she arched as his fingers whispered gently in teasing circles. When he swirled his tongue over her nipples, an electric current jolted through her, and he played her body well, igniting all her sensitive spots. He set a leisurely rhythm of gliding into her, holding, and sliding out. Her muscles tightened with each stroke. She wiggled, hoping he’d get the silent message and speed up.

  Instead, he kept at the maddeningly slow pace, and she nearly screamed in frustration. She could feel the edge of nirvana, if only he’d speed up. Between his fingers, his cock, and his mouth, he managed to drive her insane with need, and it impressed her that he’d taken her first orgasm so quickly. She was afraid she’d lose the second one if he didn’t move things along.

  As if sensing her desperation, he paused. A groan tore from her throat, but then he palmed her hips and increased his speed, and the pleasure mounted and washed over her whole body. As the final waves receded, she expected him to slow down, but instead of stopping, he increased his pace, plunging into her, rubbing her with more force, bending over to suck harder on her breasts. He hit all her sensitized areas, and when she felt the building ache again, she grabbed onto him and let him take another orgasm from her.

  But even before the spasms stopped, he hiked her ankles over his shoulders and stared down at her from between her legs. That should have been it. They should have been done. He should have been spent. But he continued, leaning over her, spreading her wider until she bucked under his relentless frenzy of grabbing and tugging. He lowered her legs but didn’t stop the pounding pace. With his mouth pulling on her breasts and his hand rubbing over her core, she felt him jerk and shudder at the same time her body arched and her release sent stars behind
her closed lids.

  She collapsed in a heap on the stage, staring at the darkened overhead lights. She didn’t know what to say. She’d never had so many orgasms in her life, and she’d never had completely silent sex before.

  Thank you thank you thank you ran through her mind.

  Still inside her, he bent over with one hand on either side of her head and kissed her lips and her cheeks. Meeting her dazed gaze, he whispered, “That was amazing.”

  She nodded her agreement.

  He rested his head on her stomach for a moment, and then he slid out of her and stood. “Be right back.” With one hand holding his jeans half up his thighs, he disappeared into the bathroom. Lacey didn’t want to move, and when Billy emerged, she was still a limp puddle sprawled on the stage.

  “Thank you.” Her voice was a shallow mumble.

  “We should continue this upstairs.” Where he could bend her over the ottoman. Or take her in a bed. They’d barely touched the surface of their sexual explorations.

  She opened her eyes. “Okay.”

  He helped her off the stage and handed her the discarded panties. Heat flamed up her neck and cheeks, and she cast a final glance at where they’d done the deed. Great. She’d never be able to look at the stage again without thinking about how Billy unraveled her whole outlook on sex.

  Chapter Nine

  Lacey stretched out her hand and welcomed Billy into her bedroom. He scooped her up in his arms and pushed through the door, playfully tossing her on the bed.

  She wasn’t just his boss, an entrepreneur, or his ticket back to the big time. She was also the best sex he’d ever had, no lie, and that scared the crap out of him.

  She smiled then, her gaze glancing quickly to the side. “We still have condoms.”

  He licked his lips. He fully intended to use as many as possible during the course of the night.

  She sighed and in a dazed voice he well recognized, she marveled, “I can’t believe I’m sleeping with Billy Hardy.”