Harlequin Blaze June 2015 Box Set: Midnight ThunderFevered NightsCome On OverTriple Time

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  She pressed a hand to her lower back, applying pressure in increments, and glanced at the clock. It was so late she forgot about the slight ache. How could she have worked five hours straight?

  Oh, well, she was still itching to get her hands on the bigger torch she hadn’t been able to afford in college. With it she’d be able to work with hard-grade silver, something she hadn’t done yet.

  She washed her hands in the bathroom sink before heading for the kitchen. Trent sat at the table watching something on his laptop. A quick peek told her it wasn’t the same video of Race the Moon. However, she caught a glimpse of a different horse and rider on a racetrack.

  But it was the breadth of Trent’s shoulders that held her attention. And the way his thick dark hair tended to curl at his nape. The silky texture had surprised her, and now the memory had her fisting her hands to keep from touching him.

  Hoping she wouldn’t disturb him, she continued quietly to the fridge. Not counting the apple she’d gobbled earlier, she’d missed lunch and hadn’t given a single thought to dinner.

  “Hey, you.” Trent leaned back in his chair, his head angled toward her. “Are you finished working?”

  “Yep, the staff mutinied.” Nothing quick and easy in the fridge, but she noticed a pot sitting on the stove. “My glue gun quit on me. Think I can find one at the variety store?”

  “Maybe.” His gaze roamed her face, lowered to her chest and hips, his mouth curving in a faint smile. Because of her Tweety Bird T-shirt, perhaps, but she didn’t think so. Wrong sort of smile, judging by her accelerated pulse. “If not, try the fabric shop.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “I was waiting for you. There’s chili from the freezer in the pot on the stove,” he said, and followed her gaze to the computer screen. “Calhoun emailed me this video.”

  “Oh.” Weird. “Did you change your mind about working for him?”

  “Nah. He’s still trying to sell me on the Arabian. I’m just drooling over his setup. The guy might be a jerk but his stables and racetrack are primo.”

  “You have a lot of land for a track. Can’t you—” She remembered the precise thing she’d been trying to forget. For the time being, anyway. Why had Violet told her? Surely the woman could’ve waited for confirmation on who owned the Eager Beaver. Knowing what little she did, Shelby somehow felt as if she was betraying Trent. He was giving her a curious look, so she shrugged. “Ignore me. What do I know about horses and racetracks?”

  “Ignore you?” He snorted a laugh. “Sure, I’ll just go grab a pair of blinders from the stable.”

  Grinning, she got a glass out of the cabinet, then paused. “Want anything?”

  He stared long enough for her to get that he had sex on the brain, before refocusing on the laptop. “A training facility is more complicated and costly than you might think. Racehorses are valuable animals. Some of them are insured for millions. You gotta treat them with kid gloves.” He looked back at her. “You visit the stable yet?”

  “Only once, briefly.” She’d been amazed at the pristine condition inside.

  “You won’t find a single hinge or latch with a sharp edge or a bolt sticking out. I had the stall doors custom-made and so far I’ve replaced half the barbed-wire fence in the north pasture with solid wood. Even with all the money I’ve sunk into the place and work I’ve done myself, I couldn’t board and train horses yet. Still too many hazards around here. Solomon’s mine and he’s safe. I paid a nice sum for him out of a bonus a couple years back. And Jax, it’s looking as if he’ll never race. Good all-around horse, though.”

  “What about Griffin?”

  He smiled at the name she’d given the colt. “His training is coming along fine. He’s got potential. It won’t be long before I can take him to the track outside of Kalispell, the same one I use for Solomon.” He shrugged. “I start making some good money again with Solomon or training, and who knows? I can get this place up to standard.”

  Shelby’s stomach churned. Listening to how much time and money Trent had invested made her sick. Even if Violet was right about the Eager Beaver, Shelby would never ask him to leave. Surely, they could work something out.

  No. Even after a brief acquaintance, she knew Trent had too much pride. He wouldn’t stick around. The best she could do would be to repay him for the improvements he’d made. Though it would probably take her years.

  “Why the sad face?”

  She shrugged it off and poured herself some water.

  His expression troubled, he stood. He took her glass, set it on the counter and put his arms around her. Held her close. “It’s about the Eager Beaver, isn’t it?”

  Her whole body tensed. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a touchy subject for both of us. I say we ban any mention of the ranch.” He rubbed her back, and she hid her face against his chest. “What happens, happens. We’ll deal with it when the time comes. No matter what, we have a grace period agreement. Right?”

  What else could she do but nod?

  He leaned back. “I make a mean chili,” he said, and nudged her chin up. “How about it?”

  Shelby met his sympathetic eyes. “I thought you couldn’t cook.”

  “I can’t. That’s why there’s leftovers.” He smiled that damn cute-boy smile. It got to her almost as much as the sexy version. “I figure we’re both hungry enough it won’t taste too bad.”

  She couldn’t help laughing. “I’m in.”

  His eyes had already begun to darken. He’d lifted his hand to stroke her hair. Clearly he had dessert planned, as well. Fine with her. She’d grab some of that good loving while he was still offering.

  And try not to dwell on their looming expiration date.

  * * *

  “UNPACKING OR RELAXING?” Trent asked the second he dumped the clean pot on the draining rack.

  They’d worked together, he washing and she drying, only because she’d insisted. He didn’t see the point—he usually just let the dishes air-dry—but he hadn’t argued. Though now, he blocked her reach for the pot.

  “We’re gonna let that one dry all by itself,” he said, taking the towel from her and tossing it on the counter.

  Shelby opened her mouth to object and he swooped in for a kiss. She sputtered in surprise but settled quickly, and let him have his way with her. Giving as good as she got, and then some.

  He couldn’t believe he’d gotten so hard so fast. Jesus, there was nothing remotely hot about a sudsy pot. But knowing what came next had lit a fire in his belly before he’d so much as touched Shelby. He figured her pretty lips and laughing green eyes might’ve played a small part.

  He skimmed a hand over the curve of her firm, round backside and deepened the kiss. The little moaning sound she made was sexy as hell, tempting him to pick her up and carry her caveman-style straight to his bed. Suspecting she might have a problem with that, he kept kissing her instead.

  She slid her hands up to his shoulders and pressed her soft breasts against his chest. He could almost taste the ripeness of those perfect rosy tips. Damn, the woman was responsive. He’d bet she was good and wet already, and sweet as honey.

  Their tongues tangled. She pressed closer, rubbing her belly and hips against his fly, forcing his cock to take notice. As if it wasn’t already standing at attention. He tensed, resisting the urge to lift her onto the counter and strip off her jeans. But if she kept at it, he wasn’t sure he could trust himself. He grabbed a handful of her hair. Pure silk.

  Ignoring his slight tug at her scalp, she kept kissing him with an eagerness he found arousing, but also curious. Something was different about her tonight. Damned if he was going to analyze it now. She rocked her hips against him and seemed to make it her mission to taste every inch of his mouth. He released her hair and slid his hands down her spine. No way he’d last long
. He squeezed her butt, the pressure inside him building...

  Shelby pulled back suddenly. “We’re in the kitchen again,” she said, her voice a breathless whisper.

  “I know.” He tightened his arms, needing to feel her against him.

  “Must be a fetish.”

  He paused to look at her. “Me?”

  Trying to catch her breath, she laughed. “Same problem as last night. Violet, remember?”

  Trent fixated on her distracting lower lip. It was Tuesday. For sure Violet was glued to the TV. “We’ll move. In a minute.” He cupped her face between his hands and paid homage to her lips.

  “Or Jimmy,” she murmured against his mouth. “He could—”

  Jimmy?

  The thought cooled him. Yeah, he didn’t need the kid popping up unexpectedly and getting an eyeful. Especially with Trent not being at his smoothest. It was Shelby’s fault. She had him so turned on he hadn’t felt more awkward since his first time at sixteen.

  He patted her fanny. “Let’s go.”

  Shelby made no move. Humor shined in her eyes. “You’re more worried about Jimmy seeing us.”

  “No, I’m not.” Trent backed her to the door and turned her around.

  She grinned over her shoulder at him. “Why?”

  Trent just shook his head.

  “Huh. Must be a guy thing.”

  “Probably.” He tried to give her backside another tap but she scrambled out of reach.

  Mutt barked at the kitchen door.

  Shelby turned around.

  “Keep going,” Trent said. “He’s staying outside.”

  “But—”

  “Just for now.”

  She nodded, walked briskly to the hall and turned left to his bedroom without a word. Following behind, he couldn’t help noticing the stack of cardboard outside her door and wondered if she’d dug out her grandfather’s will.

  Hell would freeze over before he’d ask. Not a subject he wanted to visit. He’d seen her pawing through sweatshirts like it was Christmas. Learning she was counting pennies to support her new business had felt like a two-by-four to the gut. Was she just being frugal? Or did Shelby need the ranch as much as he did?

  The eagerness he’d sensed earlier had held a trace of desperation. She knew something had to give soon. And maybe she’d decided, just as he had, that they’d enjoy their time together while they could. Not the ideal situation, but probably the best he could hope for.

  She stood at the foot of the bed, her eyes shining, her head tilted a bit to the right. “Did you get lost?”

  “I knew you were about to ravage me, so I took a breather.”

  Her throaty laugh cranked up the heat. “You wish.”

  Smiling, he tugged up the hem of her shirt. “Am I going to find another weird contraption under here?”

  “Maybe.” She lifted her arms without him asking.

  He drew the shirt over her head and tossed it against the wall. His gaze stayed on the lacy black bra. “Pretty,” he said. “Pity it’s gotta come off.”

  “Wait.” She clutched his arm, forestalling his bid for the back hook. After shoving his hand away, she unzipped her jeans and pushed them down her hips. She kicked them aside and stood there, waiting.

  He studied the black bikini panties. Remembering vividly what they were hiding, his cock was ready to explode through his fly. His gaze moved up to the bra. “They match. Is that what you wanted me to see?”

  Shelby pursed her lips, then slumped on a sigh. “Yes. I was trying to redeem myself after last night. But now I just feel stupid. Thank you.”

  Trent laughed. “Ah. Sweet, warm, sexy Shelby,” he murmured, drawing her into his arms and inhaling her skin and hair. “I’ll let you in on a secret. You didn’t have to do a damn thing for me to want you like crazy.” One flick freed the bra’s clasp.

  When she yanked up his shirt, he was more than happy to give her a hand. They were both naked in less than a minute.

  Flushed and warm, her skin was a soft pink, all except for her small tight nipples. He rubbed both thumbs over the darker, rosier tips, and felt her tremble. Placing a hand on his forearm to steady herself, she tried to stand still, barely moving when he bowed his head for a taste. He licked both nipples, then sucked the left one until she wouldn’t stop squirming.

  He brushed a kiss across her lips as he straightened. Her eyes looked almost black.

  Not bothering with the quilt, he walked her backward until she bumped into the bed. A gentle hand on her shoulder was all it took for her to sink to the edge of the mattress.

  “Condoms,” she reminded him, her breath hitching.

  “We don’t need them yet.” He crouched and spread her legs.

  With a soft gasp, she fell back, supporting herself on her elbows while she watched him kiss the inside of her thigh. Her skin was as smooth and soft as satin. He switched to her other thigh, planted a quicker kiss there, too anxious to get to the wet heat in between. He parted her lips with his fingers, then followed with his tongue.

  She bucked against his mouth. Her breathy moans drove him crazy. He sucked and licked and thrust his tongue as far as he could, unable to get enough. She kept moving, breaking contact with his mouth, finally going still when he inserted two fingers inside her. He repositioned himself and when she began bucking again, he stayed with her. Within seconds she climaxed, her orgasm quaking through her flushed body.

  Cursing himself for not having the condom closer, he got up to grab the packet. He forced himself to unwrap it carefully while he watched Shelby. The way she was arching and moaning only made him more impatient. But she was watching him, too, and she dragged herself back toward the pillows, getting ready for him.

  Trent propped himself on one arm and caressed her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed and with a single thrust, he entered her, fast and deep. He caught her gasp in his mouth and kissed her as thoroughly as possible, considering he was about to explode. Lifting his head, he looked into her dazed eyes.

  He pulled out, shifted, hoping to make every move count, give her as much pleasure as possible. Bringing her leg up higher around his waist he sunk into her. By her moan he knew he’d found the perfect angle. Keeping control of himself was the problem.

  Arching up to reach him, she raked her fingernails down his chest. The way she’d moved drove him deeper, making her moan louder. He stilled, cupped her breast, then leaned down to kiss her parted lips. On his way back up he stopped briefly to suck her nipple.

  Then he tried out their new position with another hard thrust.

  Her shoulders came up off the mattress again. She murmured something he didn’t catch, then shifted her hips to the right and nearly set him off.

  He slowly withdrew, smiling at her cute pout.

  “Don’t you dare,” she panted, clutching at his arms, trying to pull him back to her. “Trent, please.”

  For a long time they stared into each other’s eyes, and then he entered her again and started moving. Slowly at first, before thrusting harder, deeper until she writhed and whimpered, and then bucked up against him as she came. He bent to kiss her and she squeezed him so hard it triggered his own explosive release.

  15

  THE WEATHER WAS PERFECT the first day of the fair. With the cooler temperatures, it finally was beginning to feel like fall, Shelby’s favorite season. Good for long sleeves, but no jacket needed during the day. The gorgeous blue sky stretched all the way to the distant Rockies where most of the clouds hovered. She was lucky her booth faced that direction.

  A line of cars turning off the highway caught her attention and she checked her watch. The fair officially opened in fifteen minutes. Trent had set up the tables and secured the awning for shade while she’d unpacked her jewelry and laid everything out, so she’d been ready for
an hour. She appreciated his help, but it had given her extra time to fret.

  Sighing, she glanced at the earrings and necklaces she’d placed on the center table. At first she’d worried about her meager inventory. The booth on her left overflowed with homemade baked goods and to her right a friendly older woman was selling beautiful porcelain dolls. Considering Gladys had made each intricate doll herself, she offered quite a variety.

  But then it occurred to Shelby that having less jewelry on display meant she wouldn’t be so mortified when she didn’t sell squat. People might think she’d sold out quickly. The rationale had cheered her some. Though she was still tense. And Trent telling her all morning not to be nervous didn’t make her any less so.

  Wondering what was keeping him, she poked her head out. She spotted him in front of the cotton-candy wagon, holding the drinks he’d gone to get them and talking to a young couple. She swore the man knew everyone.

  She got a whiff of popcorn and pressed a hand to her roiling tummy. Other food smells were beginning to permeate the air. Great. She tried to distract herself by scanning the kiddie rides being tested just past the row of food vendors. Not a good idea. She was terrible at fairs and festivals, wanting every fried and sugar-coated treat in sight. And she usually gave in.

  “Sorry I took so long. I kept running into—” Trent lowered the cup he’d been about to pass her. “You don’t look so hot.”

  “Just nerves.” She waved dismissively and peered at the cup. “What did you get?”

  “Hot chocolate.”

  “Ah.” No, she’d have to wait on that. Her stomach would rebel for sure.

  He set the two cups aside. “Shelby.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a warm smile. “It’s going to be fine.”

  “I know.” She shrugged. “I’m being ridiculous.”

  “I didn’t say that.” He ran his hands down her arms and pulled her close. Obviously he didn’t have a problem with people seeing them together like this.