Tall, Tanned & Texan

by Kimberly Raye

  Deanie walked over to the woman. Or, at least she tried. But the concrete was ridged and so she wobbled more than she walked. Mavoreen reached up and gave her a steadying hand just as she reached the lounge chair.

  “Careful now, or you’ll break a leg. A damn shame what women suffer in the name of fashion.”

  “I’m not used to them. They’re new. And so am I. I don’t usually dress like this. I mean, I do. Now.”

  “What’s the occasion?”

  “I’m starting a new job and I thought I’d get a new look to go with it.”

  “Good for you.” Mavoreen reached up and patted Deanie’s arm before her gaze drank in the silk cover-up that concealed Deanie’s skimpy swimsuit. “Did you get that at the gift shop? Why, I might just pop in there and see if they’ve got that in my size. Mitchell would love it. Of course, he won’t be seeing it until tomorrow on account of he had a really pressing business meeting he had to tend to.”

  Deanie couldn’t help but remember Savannah’s comment. “There is no billionaire. It’s a story she makes up so she doesn’t look like a lonely old woman.”

  “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t tolerate his tardiness,” Mavoreen continued, “but he’s just so in-tune with the real me. Do you know that he sent me a singing telegram to tell me he wouldn’t make it until tomorrow. A Frank Sinatra look-alike.” When Deanie didn’t seem to make the connection between thoughtful and Frank, Mavoreen added, “The first song we danced to was a Frank Sinatra song. Now there’s a man who pays attention to the details and knows there’s more to me than just a great body.”

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” a waiter said as he stopped next to Deanie. He smiled at Mavoreen. “We’ve just had a shift change and Peter, your previous waiter, is off duty. My name is Raoul and it would be my pleasure to serve you.”

  “Of course it would be, sonny.” She gave Deanie a “What can I do? They just won’t leave me alone” look and shrugged. “Margarita?” she asked Deanie, holding up her own half-emtpy glass.

  “Nothing for me,” Deanie said. “I really have to go. I’m meeting someone.”

  “Well, have fun then.” Mavoreen waved before turning to the waiter and ordering a refill.

  Deanie glanced around again for Rance before resuming her trek around the pool.

  Her gaze lit on a vacant lounge chair on the far side of the pool, the deep end, that had been practically abandoned thanks to the radio station who now had the crowd jam-packed in the shallow area.

  Picking her way past half-naked bodies and a maze of chairs, she finally reached the remote blue and white striped canvas chaise. It was a tri-fold chair recently vacated by a sun worshipper who’d been stretched out prone.

  Deanie spent a few seconds looking for some sort of switch that would let her bend the back into an upright position. While she knew she and Rance would get prone eventually, she was through being the pushy, anxious sort she’d been as a teenager.

  He owed her, and so she wasn’t going to make his penance any easier by being in the right position, even if it was the wrong time and place.

  She couldn’t find the lever to bend the chair back into position. Finally, she gave up and sank onto the middle section. She slipped off the strappy sandals and stretched her legs out in front of her. She’d just reached for her sunscreen when she heard the deep, familiar rumble of Rance’s voice.

  6

  “YOU LOOK REALLY HOT.” Rance’s deep voice echoed in Deanie’s ears and sent a burst of heat through her. Her breath caught for a long moment before she remembered to breathe.

  She squinted up at the large shadow that he made outlined by the bright sunlight. “There were no umbrellas on this end of the pool and there wasn’t a place to sit over there.” She pointed to the far side where a crowd clustered near the shallow end of the gigantic pool. A makeshift tent had been set up. Inside, three separate tables hosted three different couples. A local radio disc jockey was playing host. “I had no choice but to sit here and cook.”He grinned. “I mean hot as in good looking.”

  “Oh.” Duh.

  “Did you pick that dress out after I left?”

  “It’s not a dress. It’s a swimsuit cover-up.” She made a big show of smoothing the skirt material over her thighs, all the while trying to calm her suddenly racing heart.

  “You’re at the pool. You don’t need a cover-up.”

  “Not now, but I just got here. On the way, I needed a cover-up.”

  Yeah, right.

  There were near-naked bodies all over the hotel. Deanie just wasn’t in a hurry to be one of them.

  “Besides,” she added, “I thought this would be a good chance to break it in.”

  “Don’t you do that with shoes instead of clothes?”

  “Some material can be itchier than others,” she retorted, wishing the material in question didn’t feel so silky and smooth and rousing against her palms. “It’s better to know early on, that way you can take it back before the return period expires or wash it with a fabric softener.”

  His eyes glittered like whiskey pools and she plunged right in and sank to the bottom for a long, heart-pounding moment.

  “So is it?” he finally asked, his deep voice jerking her back to the surface.

  “Is it what?”

  “Itchy?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then you can take it off.” He hooked a leg over the chair and straddled the chaise behind her before she could draw her next breath. His thighs framed hers and his chest cushioned her back. His hands settled on her shoulders for a long, breathless moment before tracing her upper arms.

  “You feel hot, too.”

  “The sun.”

  “Maybe.” His lips touched the shell of her ear. “And maybe not.” His hands stopped at her elbows before sliding back up over her shoulders. Strong fingers lifted the hair away from her neck. She felt the cool rush of fresh air followed by the hot press of his lips.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Following the Camp E.D.E.N. curriculum and the first workshop—Shedding Your Inhibitions.”

  “Shouldn’t we find someplace a little more private? With less people?”

  “We could, but that would defeat the whole purpose of the workshop. Shedding your inhibitions is all about tuning everything else out and tuning in to yourself. If you can focus enough to do that here, now, with all of these people, then you’ll ace this topic and be that much closer to your goal.”

  To you and me and sex.

  The words played through her head before she could stop them and remember that her ultimate goal was to get in touch with her inner sexuality and unleash the vixen within.

  Sex with Rance was just a means to an end—a new Deanie—not the end itself.

  A hip-swaying calypso tune livened up the group at the far end of the pool. A roar of laughter went up from the crowd. Waiters darted here and there near the commotion. A world away, it seemed, from where they sat. At the same time, they were still in plain view should anyone happen to turn.

  “I still don’t think—”

  “Don’t think,” he cut in. His lips nuzzled her ear. “Just take this off.” He tugged at the knot she’d made just over one shoulder. “And let’s get on with the lesson.”

  RANCE EXPECTED one of two things when he touched Deanie. That she would 1) forget her stubbornness, morph into her old self and jump his bones or 2) harden her resolve and keep up her cold, aloof front.

  Either way, both were her reactions.Rance didn’t anticipate the fierceness of his own need and the near uncontrollable urge to pull her around, push her down and press himself into her hot, tight body. His breath caught as her heat seeped into his fingertips and zigzagged straight to his crotch. His cock twitched and his balls ached and his hands actually started to tingle.

  Deprivation, he told himself. He hadn’t been with a woman in months because he’d been on the mend at the Iron Horse. It only stood to reason that he’d go a little nuts when he finally got up close and
personal with a female. Even if the female were Teeny Deanie Codge.

  Because it was Deanie.

  Because he’d thought about her more than once since that night on the riverbank.

  The truth echoed through his head as fiercely as the want vibrated through his body. He had thought about her. Many times. Too many for a man who’d vowed to leave the past behind and forget everything and everybody. He’d meant to start fresh. To bury the hurt and the pain of his memories once and for all and think only of the future.

  The next game.

  The next competition.

  But try as he might, he’d never completely forgotten Deanie. She’d been the one person who’d made him smile, and the only person who’d made him think twice about leaving Romeo all those years ago.

  Because he’d felt something for her. Friendship and like and lust.

  He’d recognized the first two when they’d been just kids, even if he’d never admitted as much to her. She’d known. She’d seen it in his smile. Hell, she’d seen it in his frown when he’d been hurting over his parents’ deaths. He’d told her to get lost, but she’d known he’d really wanted her there. He’d needed her, and so she’d stayed.

  The lust…

  He’d hadn’t recognized that until the night she’d offered herself to him and he’d had the nearly overwhelming urge to cross the few feet of distance between them and kiss her for all he was worth.

  He’d wanted to.

  Hell, he’d wanted her. So much that it had hurt.

  But he’d seen her heart in her eyes and he’d known that taking her then and there would have meant taking a lot more than just her sweet, delectable body.

  Deanie had fancied herself in love with him. She’d wanted a happily ever after, and there’d been no such thing in the cards for Rance. When Rance’s father had died, his grandfather had taken over the ranch. He’d assumed responsibility for Rance and his brothers, as well, but he hadn’t wanted them around. They’d reminded the old man of the son he’d lost and so he’d pushed his grandsons away. Rance had given up steer wrestling and spent his extra time practicing with his high school football team as their star tackle. Before long, he’d been on his way out of town, away from the ranch and the old man who’d stopped loving him and his brothers.

  He’d been this close to gone that night, and so he’d only been in the position to give her a few blissful moments.

  And now?

  It didn’t matter what he could or couldn’t give her. She’d made it crystal clear that she didn’t want anything from him, least of all a long-term relationship.

  No cuddling in front of the TV every night. No sharing breakfast, lunch or dinner down at the Fat Cow Diner. No lazing around together on Sunday afternoons or dusting the floor at Romeo’s one and only honky tonk on Saturday night.

  She had plans that didn’t include him.

  The truth bothered him a hell of a lot more than it should have, considering the fact that Rance didn’t want a long-term relationship with anyone. His lifestyle was much too unsettled.

  Which meant he should be pleased with Deanie’s sudden about face.

  Should be? To hell with that. He was pleased. Happy. Ecstatic.

  He fought down the irritation that niggled at his gut. He damned sure didn’t want her to want an ongoing relationship with him. He just wanted her to want him, period. To admit it. To act on it.

  Rance focused on his throbbing cock and the woman perched between his legs. The wrap she’d had knotted securely around her had come loose and now pooled at her waist, effectively hiding the erection that strained beneath his shorts and pushed against her soft, round ass.

  Drawing a deep breath, he let his gaze travel the smooth, pale expanse of her back. The thin straps of her bikini top knotted just below her shoulder blades.

  Rance fought back the urge to trace the straps around her rib cage and slide his hands beneath the skimpy material barely concealing her full, lush breasts. He wanted to touch her bare nipples, to feel them ripen with need.

  The same need that coursed through his own body and made his muscles bunch.

  But he knew he had to pace himself, to keep his cool and launch a full blown attack on her senses. It was all about breaching her line of defense, tackling every barrier and turning her on beyond the point of no return.

  Until she wanted him so much that she gladly offered herself up the way she had that night.

  He gathered his control, let loose a deep, shaky breath and reached into her partially open bag that sat next to the chair. Retrieving her sunscreen, he opened the tube and dribbled the white cream along the curve of one silky smooth shoulder, and then the other.

  “Hold your hair up,” he murmured, his lips grazing her ear. She visibly trembled and his gut tightened.

  Rance drew a deep breath, gathered every ounce of control that he possessed and touched her.

  SHE KNEW he was going to touch her.

  It wasn’t like he was just going to squeeze the sunscreen onto her and then up and leave. Of course, he was going to work it into her skin. Massage it in. Slowly and thoroughly.She knew that. Just as she knew his hands would be large and strong and warm. The way she’d imagined whenever she replayed their one night so long ago and fantasized a much different ending. One where he actually reached out rather than running away from her.

  But her imagination didn’t begin to do him justice. His hands were even larger than she’d thought. Stronger. And forget warm. They were hot. Scorching.

  His long fingers closed over her shoulders and her breath caught. A steamy heat radiated from the point of contact and swept along her nerve endings, burning up everything in its wake. Her determination. Her resistance. Her common sense.

  She tried to sit up straight, to concentrate on the sparkling pool that stretched out in front of her and the cluster of people at the opposite end. But the only thing she could think of was the man who sat behind her, surrounding her, consuming her.

  His deep, even breaths filled her ears. His rich, mesmerizing scent teased her nostrils. The rough feel of his strong, callused hands stirred every nerve as they slid over her shoulders, down her arms and back up again. His muscular thighs framed hers, his deep tan making her skin look almost white in comparison. But in a good way. She felt small compared to him. Soft. Fair. Feminine.

  More so when he pulled her bottom back more firmly into the cradle of his thighs. His groin pressed into her buttocks and awareness bolted through her. He was hard. Very hard.

  The realization stirred an ache between her legs and she had the sudden urge to turn and rub her crotch up against his.

  As soon as the thought struck, she stiffened. She would fling herself headfirst into the pool before she let that happen.

  “Close your eyes,” he murmured. His voice slid into her ear and sent a tingle of awareness to her nipples. “You’re too tense. You need to stop thinking about everyone else.”

  “I’m not thinking about everyone else.”

  “Then what are you thinking about?”

  “That I should move.”

  “If you do that, darlin’, it’s only going to get harder.” For emphasis, he moved. Just a momentary press of his groin against her buttocks, but it was enough. He seemed to grow bigger. His weight strained more fully against her bottom and she caught her breath.

  “I meant that maybe I should move away,” she managed to say after several frantic heartbeats. Now. Right now.

  “That would mean giving in to your inhibitions, not shedding them. You’re uptight because we’re in a public place and there are dozens of people who could very easily glance our way at any moment.”

  If only.

  “To strip away your inhibitions,” he instructed, “you have to do the opposite of what your brain tells you.” He said the words slowly, each one loaded with promise. “If your head tells you to move, you stay right…” He pulled her more firmly against him, her back flush against his chest “…here.”

 
; His hands slid down her arms to the cover-up, the edges puddled in her lap. He pulled the material free, letting it slide from between them, and dropped it on the ground next to her bag.

  Deanie felt a rush of self-consciousness at sitting there wearing nothing but her skimpy bikini, Rance straddling the seat behind her. But then he dribbled sunscreen onto one bare thigh and her brain short-circuited.

  7

  THE COOL, CREAMY LIQUID oozed over Deanie’s hot skin as he moved to squeeze more onto her other thigh. Her heart pounded as he set the bottle to the side and touched her, his hands on either thigh, and started to smooth the lotion.

  Strong, purposeful fingers rubbed circles into her skin, moving along the outside of her legs, higher to where her swimsuit rode high on her hips. He paused at the edge before tracing the line down toward the bottom of the vee. She stiffened, her heart pounding so loudly in her ears that she almost didn’t hear the low, deep, rumble of his voice.“You like that, don’t you?”

  “I…” she stammered, but then one fingertip grazed the material covering her pubic area, as if his hand had accidentally slipped from its original purpose, and the answer collided into a jumble at the back of her throat.

  “Think about how much you like it and stop worrying about who might be watching.”

  But she wasn’t worrying about who might have seen the intimate touch. She was more worried about whether or not he would do it again.

  About how much she wanted him to do it again.

  He slid his palms over her thighs toward her knees and back up, his thumbs grazing the seam where her legs met before separating and moving to the outside of her thighs and back up again. And then he repeated the process.

  Again.

  And again.

  Electricity threaded through her body and tightened. She felt the pull in her nipples and between her legs. Her lungs constricted and she couldn’t seem to drag enough air into them.