She was, but Cole Chisholm didn’t know that. Sure, he suspected, but he didn’t know.
“I think we’ve got raccoons,” she blurted, tossing the empty box in the trash and marching back to her room.
“A blonde raccoon.” His deep voice followed her, and she knew he didn’t just suspect, he knew.
Hardly.
He might think he had her all figured out, but he had another think coming. She wasn’t just going to give up the facade and trade in her miniskirts for the sweats packed in her suitcase because Cole Chisholm thought he knew her.
He might be convinced she was sweet and wholesome and innocent, but she knew plenty of ways to prove him wrong.
And there was no better time to start than right now.
14
FOR THE FIRST time in a long time, Cole Chisholm was alone on a Friday night.
He sat at the bar, a bottle of beer in front of him, a lively two-step number bouncing off the walls around him.
The small honky-tonk sat just off the highway on the outskirts of Three Rivers, a postage-stamp-size town that played to sportsmen with its rolling acres of prime hunting ground. It was just a few weeks into deer season and so the area was crawling with men. More men meant that the local women came out in droves.
All he had to do was scope out the sea of hot bodies that filled the dance floor and pick whichever one caught his fancy. A blonde bombshell with big breasts or a brunette with a nice ass or a redhead with long legs. Someone to take the edge off and ease the damn near constant hard-on making his life freakin’ miserable. A good lay and he would stop fantasizing about Nikki.
Then he could think again.
Concentrate.
At the same time there was nothing wrong with pacing himself. He had all night, and so instead of eyeballing a woman he settled for a beer.
He took a deep swig of Coors, but the liquid didn’t ease the tightening in his gut or sate the thirst that clawed at his throat.
So get to it.
He should. But damned if he could make himself move. Instead, he downed another swig of beer and wished with all his heart that he could punch something.
His gaze fixed on the woman currently two-stepping her way across the dance floor with another man.
His woman.
She wore a short black leather fringe vest that didn’t have anything underneath except smooth, silky skin and a pair of black leather pants that hung low on her hips. Add a pair of blinged-out cowboy boots and Nikki Barbie was definitely the hottest thing in this joint.
But her appeal went deeper than the sexy getup. Her long blond hair was slightly mussed and flowed down around her shoulders. Her eyes sparkled. Her skin glowed. She looked as if she’d just rolled out of bed after a night of incredible sex.
Yeah, right.
She’d built such a fortified wall between them that sex wasn’t even a remote possibility. Hell, he’d barely kissed her since that first night.
No, the only thing they’d been doing was talking and sharing and spending time together.
And damned if that didn’t make him feel that much more twisted inside. Because he liked spending time together, even if they weren’t having sex.
Because they weren’t.
Because Cole Chisholm wanted more than sex from her.
He ditched the last thought, downed another gulp and barely resisted the urge to haul ass across the room and inform her that she was making a fool of herself.
Why, she was hanging all over that guy.
Her arms looped around his neck. A smile tilted her full lips as she drank in his every word. She slid this way and that, her boots kicking up sawdust as she danced and lived up to her infamous Barbie reputation.
So much for feeling like the black sheep of the family. Naive? Innocent?
Like hell.
She looked sexy and wanton, and completely oblivious to Cole.
Not that he cared. Hell, no. So what if she didn’t want to have sex with him? She was entitled to her opinion.
But they were still friends.
Even more, they were supposed to be married.
She was his wife, for Pete’s sake. The least she could do was look at him.
And if she doesn’t know you’re here?
That thought bothered him even more than the notion that she just didn’t want to acknowledge him.
While they hadn’t actually slept together, they’d become so close. He could still feel her soft, voluptuous curves pressed up against him. He could hear the frantic breaths that sawed past her lips and the excited beat of her heart. He could smell the intoxicating aroma of warm, sweet woman. Her memory haunted him.
Because she was different. What he felt was different.
Like what Jesse felt for Gracie.
And what Billy felt for Sabrina.
A pang of envy shot through him. One he quickly ignored by downing the rest of his beer. He wasn’t Jesse. Or Billy. They’d both come through the past and turned out to be better men for it. Jesse was so responsible now, and Billy who’d never been able to make his mind up when it came to a woman, had actually become decisive.
But Cole...
He’d never been comfortable in any one situation for too long. Not when he’d been trapped in the backseat of that beat-up, rusted car when he’d been just a kid and not now when the walls of the RV closed in and he needed to breathe. He liked knowing there were no ties. That he could just pick up and leave and not worry about looking back.
Yep, Jesse and Billy didn’t mind looking back, but Cole didn’t see the point, and he never would.
It was all about moving forward.
Soon they would catch up to Raylene, recover the money and then he would head for Vegas. Nikki and their “marriage” would become just another part of the past he kept buried.
All the more reason to get his ass out of here. The way she’d felt and the way he’d felt and the fact that they’d become so close was over and done with.
Time to focus on the here and now.
As if on cue, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He put on his most charming grin and turned to see the woman who’d come up behind him. She was sex on a stick, with pretty pouty lips and long dark hair and a curvy figure.
Perfect for a night of hot, wild, mindless sex.
“How about you buy me a drink?”
“I’d love to, but I’m here with someone.”
“What?”
Yeah, what?
He motioned across the dance floor. “She’s running late.”
“Well, if you get tired of waiting.” She winked. “I’ll be here.”
She walked away and he signaled the bartender to bring him a second round before shifting his gaze back to Nikki.
The minute his attention fixed on her, she stiffened and missed a step. She teetered and the man caught her. His hands slithered around her waist and he pulled her close and—
No.
Hell, no.
He pushed to his feet and, just like that, Cole gave in to a fierce swell of possessiveness. Regardless of what had—or, in this case, hadn’t happened in the past, right now, at this moment, Nikki was his.
He knew it.
She knew it.
And it was high time she admitted it.
* * *
UH-OH.
Panic bolted through Nikki because it wasn’t supposed to happen this way. He wasn’t supposed to waltz over to her. No, he was supposed to give up any notions about the two of them and head for the nearest available female.
Instead, he was walking straight for her.
She ignored the urge to bolt for the nearest exit—a confident sex kitten did not run—and tightened her hold on the man’s neck—Jimmy or Joe o
r John or something such with a J—and stared into his eyes. And kept swaying. And smiling.
The trouble was, she didn’t have to look to know that Cole was headed straight for her. She saw him out of the corner of her eye, a determined shadow that bisected the dance floor and closed the distance between them. Even more, she could feel him.
Her skin prickled and heat skittered up and down her spine. It was all she could do not to turn when he stepped up behind her.
“We need to talk.” His deep voice slid into her ears, pushing aside the music and laughter and the frantic beat of her heart.
She stiffened against the urge to turn, wrap her arms around his neck and see if he tasted half as delicious as she remembered.
And then what?
That’s what scared her the most. The possibility that she would do something wrong and disappoint him. And then he would turn away. Run away.
She twined her fingers around Jimmy/Joe/John’s neck and gave him an apologetic smile. “As you can see, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now,” she told Cole.
But Cole wasn’t giving up so easily. “It’ll only take a few minutes.”
“I’m busy.”
“I can see that.” He sounded none too pleased and a traitorous slither of joy went through her. For a split second, she entertained the crazy hope that his feelings went deeper than a physical attraction. That he actually cared about her. Enough to stick around even if she wasn’t the most experienced in the sack.
Crazy.
She didn’t need him to stick around because she wasn’t sticking around. She was out of here. On her way to Houston. To the rest of her life.
“Give me five minutes.”
“And miss my favorite song?” She gave Jimmy/Joe/John another “sorry about this” look. “I love Luke Bryan.”
“This is Jason Aldean.”
“Close enough.”
“Look, buddy. The lady doesn’t want to talk to you,” Jimmy/Joe/John cut in. “So take a hike.”
“I think you should take the hike.”
“Like hell...” Jimmy/Joe/John stared past her and annoyance morphed to trepidation. “Well, maybe I could give you guys a minute.”
“Great.” Cole’s deep voice sounded a split second before he took her hand.
“You can’t just come in here and butt into my fun.” Her voice followed him, but he didn’t slow his pace as he strode toward the nearest exit. He hit the bar on the door, pushed through and headed around the building.
Where she’d avoided taking a good look at him inside, she couldn’t help but look now.
He wore a black T-shirt, faded jeans and a look that said he was royally pissed. Tension rolled off his body and his jaw clenched. A muscle ticked wildly near his left cheek. His eyes had clouded to a dark, stormy violet, like the sky just before it opened up before a fierce summer rain.
She ignored the tiny thrill that slid through her and planted her hands on her hips. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”
He pushed his hat back on his head and inched closer, making her crane her neck to look at him. “You’re wrong. Dead wrong.”
“About what?”
“About sex.” His voice lowered a notch. “We’re both consenting adults. You’re hot and bothered and I’m hot and bothered. There’s no reason why we ought to be trolling at a place like this. We should do this.” He stared down at her, his eyes blazing with jealousy and a hunger that kicked her in the chest and sent the air whooshing from her lungs. “You and me.”
Excitement bolted through her, followed by a rush of doubt because while she might want to do this, she couldn’t.
Deep down, she knew she was a fake. A fraud. But knowing what a big disappointment she was in the sack and seeing it firsthand in his eyes were two very different things.
She swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. “I really don’t think—”
“That’s your problem, sugar. You think too much when it’s not about that. It’s about this.” And then his mouth swooped down and captured hers.
15
NIKKI’S HEART BEAT double-time, the sound thundering in her ears, drowning out her conscience and her fear. She slid her arms around his neck, stopped thinking altogether and just felt. The purposeful slant of his lips. The tantalizing dance of his tongue. The strong splay of his hands at the base of her spine. The muscular wall of his chest crushing her breasts. The hardness of his thighs pressed flush against hers.
His lips plundered hers, his tongue pushing deep to stroke and explore and leave her breathless. He pressed her up against the side of the building so that she could feel the pulse of the music from inside. The excitement. And then he leaned into her, his body flush against hers, so that she could feel his excitement.
He caught the button holding her vest together and slid open the closure. The edges fell apart and her breasts spilled free. Dipping his head, he caught one rosy nipple between his teeth. He flicked the tip with his tongue before opening his mouth wider. He drew her in and sucked until a moan vibrated up her throat. The sound fed the lust roaring in his veins. He caught the hem of her skirt and growled when he realized that she wasn’t wearing any panties. Pressing one hard thigh between her legs he forced her wider until she rode him. Her sweet heat rasped against his starched denim.
She gasped and a shudder ripped through her.
He shifted, moving and rubbing, working her as he caught her lips in a fierce kiss. His hand plunged between her legs, pressing into the wet heat, and she stiffened at the rush of sweet sensation. A small cry ripped past her lips and a sizzling heat pulsed through her body before her eyelids finally fluttered open and she found him staring down at her, into her, as if seeing her for the first time. A rush of panic went through her and she turned, pressing her bottom back against him.
He let loose a growl as he noted her silent invitation. Strong fingers worked at the button on his jeans and then she felt the sag of denim. His erection sprang forward, hard and greedy, pushing against her for a split second before he pulled away.
“I need a condom,” he murmured, his voice yanking her back to reality.
Of course he did. This might be her first time doing something like this, but it obviously wasn’t his.
And she was doing it.
The petting had gone too far. No sex-loving Barbie in her right mind would back out now. If she did, he would know the truth.
And if she went through with it?
He would know the truth.
Maybe and maybe not.
They were going at it so fast and furious that maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t notice the trembling in her hands or the quivering of her lips or the fact that while she knew what she wanted from him, she didn’t actually know what to do.
Even more, maybe if she did it right here, right now, it wouldn’t be all that great. Then she could stop thinking about doing it, fantasizing, wanting. Cole Chisholm would fade into her memory like the first two guys and she could get her mind back on her midterm.
She held tight to the hope while he retrieved a condom and worked it on with a speed that said he’d done it many times before.
The realization stirred a strange sense of regret. One that quickly drowned in a wave of heat as she felt the brush of knuckles against her backside as he positioned himself. His thick head nudged apart her slick folds and pressed into her.
She closed her eyes against the slight pressure of him pushing inside, stretching and filling her inch by decadent inch.
Slowly.
So sweet and incredibly slow, as if he knew that she didn’t do this very often.
She stiffened and summoned her most sultry voice. “Harder,” she breathed, fighting back a slight wince when he quickly obliged.
A pinch that quickly fade
d into a pulsing awareness as he filled her completely. Her heart paused. He throbbed and her body contracted. A tremor went through her and she fought to control the heat slip-sliding along her nerve endings, threatening her sanity and her control.
No, no, no.
The chant echoed in her head as she fought to keep from going up in flames right here and now like the novice she truly was. A woman who spent her nights fantasizing rather than doing. A woman desperate for a man’s touch.
For his touch.
The hard tin vibrated against her fingertips, reminding her that she wasn’t just out of her comfort zone when it came to men, but she was far, far away from the safety of her bedroom. Reality crept in, along with the sounds drifting from inside the honky-tonk. The music and the laughter and the voices...
A man’s deep voice.
“Follow me, sweet cheeks, and we’ll head back to my place.”
Nikki felt Cole’s muscles tense. Her eyes opened and her head snapped up in time to see the couple that stumbled around the side of the building and headed for the row of cars sitting nearby.
“Screw that,” the woman murmured. “The backseat is just fine by me.”
Nikki held her breath as gravel crunched and metal creaked. The door slammed, but the voices still carried through the open car window.
And while Nikki couldn’t see anything thanks to a nearby Dumpster that blocked the view, she could still hear them, which meant they could hear her.
The panting.
The moaning.
She reached for the edges of her vest, but Cole’s hands covered hers, flattening them against the wall as he pressed his body against hers. “You’re not scared of an audience, are you?”
“Who? Me?” She swallowed against her suddenly dry throat. “Of course not.” It wasn’t like she was buck-naked out in the open. There was a Dumpster. “I live for an audience. The more, the better.”
“Then why are you so tense?”
“Mosquitoes,” she blurted. “I mean, we’re out in the open and I didn’t use any bug spray and—”
“The only thing biting you is going to be me,” he murmured, his lips grazing her ear. One hand slid up her abdomen to her breast and he caught her nipple. He pinched the ripe tip and played until need sizzled up and down her spine and the tension eased from her body. Her lips parted on a gasp.
Texas Outlaws: Cole Page 10