The Sweet Shoppe: Cowboy Up

by Melissa Schroeder

  “Goddamn, you’re wet.” He continued to move his finger in and out as he nipped at the roundest part of her buttocks. She should’ve been embarrassed. But the feel of his lips against her skin, oversensitized from his slaps, sent another blast of heat racing along her nerve endings, heating her body and making her yearn for more. She’d never been the least bit kinky, but something about Nick brought it out in her. And this interlude was tame compared to her fantasies. When he added another finger, she moaned his name.

  “Yeah, that’s it, baby.” Excitement deepened his voice, and before she knew what he was about, he removed his hand, pressed her legs further apart, and situated himself between her and the wall.

  Without a word to her, he licked her, a sound escaping from the back of his throat. Her muscles tightened as his tongue slipped between her folds, licking her, teasing her. He added a finger as he took her clit between his teeth. The pressure built, but he didn’t relent. He continued, perhaps even intensified his ministrations, becoming more vocal as she neared her orgasm.

  She protested as he drew his mouth away. He didn’t stop moving his fingers, though, and she flexed her hips in rhythm with his thrusting.

  “I want to see you come. You want it, Linda; you know you do. Come for me, do it.”

  Almost as if her body understood the command in his voice, heat exploded, and her body bowed and then jerked with her orgasm. Another gush of liquid poured from her cunt, and he leaned forward, lapping up her juices with relish.

  Linda gasped as she woke. Sweat wet her brow, the sheets were tangled around her legs, and a hand was between her legs. She blinked, noticing the weak light that filtered through the blinds, and she figured it was just before dawn. Her body still hummed from the orgasm she’d dreamed of. As she moved her hand, she felt the wetness of her release, smelled the musky scent, and groaned. Dammit, she’d not only dreamed about the man, but she’d probably masturbated to the dream and came. She wasn’t a prude -- the vibrator she’d brought with her proved that -- but she didn’t need to be dreaming about Nick. It would be distracting and embarrassing if he ever found out.

  She pushed the sheets away from her legs and rose from the bed, determined to get away from the memory of the dream. Her teenage fantasies were nothing compared to that. But then again, in high school she hadn’t known jack shit about sex. Now that she knew, and he was in the vicinity, it’d taken less than twenty-four hours to have a wet dream about him. Sighing, she decided a shower was just what she needed to start the day. She knew she was in for a fight, but maybe if she washed away the memory of that dream, of his mouth on her, his scent, his words ...

  She marched into the bathroom and turned the water on cold. After she stripped out of her nightshirt, she stepped into the tub, wincing at the burst of chilly water against her heated skin.

  * * * * *

  Dennis, the ranch’s chef, made the mistake of smiling too brightly at Nick, who growled in response. All the color left the man’s face as Nick brushed past him to the coffee. It was freaking early, and he didn’t have to be nice. Sure, he usually liked getting up early and watching the sunrise. But those mornings, he didn’t feel like hell.

  He’d drunk a couple more beers after Linda had left him, then stumbled upstairs to his bed. With a hard day of work behind him, and three beers in his system, he’d immediately passed out. But he felt like he’d had no sleep. When he woke, sweat had covered his body and his dick had been in his hand. The dream. He closed his eyes as he sipped his coffee. He’d never had a dream so brilliant, so real. Hell, he could still taste her on his lips, still smell the lavender on her skin.

  “What’s up with you, boss?”

  He opened one eye and looked at Dennis. The man wasn’t smart if he didn’t know to leave the boss alone when he looked like he’d been on a three-day bender. “Rough night.”

  The man’s smile widened as he poured pancake batter into the cast-iron skillet. “I heard you spent the night drinking. Trying to get some woman off your mind.”

  Nick grunted in response. “I don’t have Linda on my mind.” Just in my dreams, coming all over my face.

  Dennis stopped his actions and slanted Nick a look. “I was talking about Sybil. But I see you’ve had other things on your mind.”

  Dammit. He didn’t need the staff gossiping. It was going to be bad enough over the next few months while he lived in hell. He’d always been a little attracted to Linda. They were only two years apart in age, and she’d been totally off-limits because Amos would have killed him if he’d touched the man’s baby girl. But who wouldn’t be attracted to the woman? She could ride a horse like a dream, and even when she’d been working with horses all day, there was always a lingering scent of lavender. Every time he smelled it, he thought of her. Maybe that dream last night would get the woman out of his system.

  “Got any coffee for me?”

  His dick twitched at the sound of her voice. As if it had been real, the memories of the dream flashed through his mind. The taste of her, the scent of her, teased his mind. Damn, he wouldn’t be able to take it if this attraction didn’t cool. Drawing in a deep breath, he turned to face her. He immediately exhaled at the sight of her.

  She’d pulled her mass of curls in a ponytail, leaving nothing to frame her face. He could still detect the weariness of her trip and the stress of her situation on her face, but the dark circles were no longer as pronounced. There was more of a twinkle to her jade eyes. The rest of her was put together well. A red T-shirt molded her curves, tucked into a pair of fitted jeans. It showed off her pert, rounded breasts and her trim waist. Not to mention her fantastic ass.

  “I see you’re up and around early this morning, Ms. Wheeler.”

  A faint blush rose on her cheeks. Strange. Linda had never been a blusher, even when she’d been a teenager. She cleared her throat and avoided his gaze as she walked past him to the counter. Without a comment, she poured her coffee.

  “I take it you slept well.”

  She fumbled with the creamer, sloshing a bit over the sides of the cup. “Y-yes. I slept just fine. Why would you ask?”

  He hadn’t actually asked, but he wondered at her guilty tone. Watching her mop up her mess and finish doctoring her coffee, he noted her distracted air, the fine trembling in her hand as she lifted the cup to take a sip. There was more to it than she was saying, but he knew women, and he knew this one well. Pushing her just aggravated her, and could result in a knee to the groin.

  “Do you want to talk now, or later?”

  She turned and gave him a strained smile. “I’d rather get this over with, if you don’t mind.”

  His thoughts exactly. He noticed Dennis’s interest and stepped closer to Linda so he could lower his voice. She took a step back and bumped into the counter. He almost laughed at the mutinous expression on her face, but there was something else he could see in her eyes that stopped him. Panic? Why would she be worried? Unless ...

  He stepped closer, which was a mistake. This close, he could smell her, just as he could when he was dreaming the night before. Lavender, plus musky woman. The scent spiraled through him, heating his blood, shooting his brain cells to his dick. All the noises in the kitchen faded away. The clinking of dishes, the hurried sound of shuffling feet, the discussions, all of it disappeared as he looked down at her. She licked her lower lip and drew in a deep breath, which caused her breasts to brush against his chest. Blood rushed to his groin and his head spun.

  Before he could stop them, the memories of the dream rushed back, washed over him, and he was reaching for her. He wanted to touch, taste, tease her. He needed to hear those sounds she’d made the night before, to prove he could make the dream real. But, as he touched her arms, one of the waiters dropped a tray full of glasses. The crash caused both Linda and Nick to jump apart.

  He cleared his throat and looked around at the kitchen staff, who apparently hadn’t noticed what had almost just happened. Thank God. He really didn’t need the gossip, and Li
nda would never forgive him.

  “If you’ll meet me in my office in about ten minutes, we can go over what I want you to do to ... er ... for me.”

  With that, he turned and walked out of the kitchen, feeling as if he’d just escaped. And, knowing how Linda would tie him up in knots if he ever gave into his urge, he was probably right.

  As he reached his office, he was disturbed to find the door open. He’d been pretty lit the night before, but he thought he remembered shutting and locking the door. When he stepped in, the sexual hum Linda had inspired turned to ice when he found Sybil Franklin in his chair. A secret smiled curved her lips as her gaze traveled from his head down to his feet.

  “I thought you’d never get here, Nick.”

  Chapter Four

  Linda grabbed a piece of bread, spread it with jam, and took a huge bite. As she enjoyed the yeasty-sugary combination, she realized just how hungry she’d been. She should have eaten something other than that fudge the night before.

  “Always nice to see a woman who enjoys eating.”

  She looked over at Dennis and smiled. He had to be at least five or six years younger than her, and years younger in world experience. She’d recognized him from his red hair and freckled face. She figured he was a Cunningham.

  “I never pass up fresh-baked bread and homemade jam. And to top it off, I didn’t eat much yesterday.”

  He frowned and cut another slice of bread. “You should take care of yourself better. Didn’t Nick say you’re involved with someone?”

  “Was involved -- past tense.” He looked embarrassed, but she placed a hand on his. “No. I’m used to everyone sharing gossip in small towns, don’t worry.”

  He smiled, albeit shyly. “If you’re going to be around for a while, I was wondering if you would like to go out for a ride sometime.”

  “Well ...” She didn’t know what to say. It’d been so long since someone had hit on her, especially a younger someone.

  “I remember watching you ride. You had such a way with horses. Used to eat my sister Beulah up something fierce. You beat her for the county title for barrel racing three years in a row.” His smile widened at the comment, and she couldn’t help but respond with a smile of her own before he asked, “Are you going to be here long?”

  Her smile faded, and she looked to the door where Nick had disappeared. “I’m not sure, but if I am, I will definitely take you up on your offer.” She drained her coffee and set the cup on the counter. “Now I have to go see a man about a ranch.”

  As she walked to the office, she tried to come up with all her arguments. She needed the money; she had a right to sell her portion. If she stayed more than three days on the ranch, she would go insane. And if she didn’t get the hell out of here soon enough, she’d do something drastic like jump Nick’s bones.

  Nearing the office, she heard voices, one female, one male.

  “But I thought I would surprise you.” The whine in the woman’s voice sounded suspiciously like the big blonde bimbo from the night before. “I don’t understand why you would be angry.”

  There was a shuffling of papers, a few moments of silence, and then Nick spoke. “I’m not angry, but I have work to do and a meeting in a few minutes. I also have to talk to the staff about letting people into my office.”

  “You work so hard. If you’re the owner, you should take your time off, make other people work.”

  Linda inched closer, her hand covering her mouth to keep the laugh from escaping. Telling Nick not to work was a crime, at least in his book. Stupid woman probably didn’t realize she’d insulted him.

  “It’s a working ranch, Mrs. Franklin.” The stiffness in his voice told Linda he was close to losing his temper.

  “Oh, pooh. You can do what you want.”

  Deciding she’d heard enough, Linda knocked and, without waiting for an answer, opened the door. She stopped in her tracks at the sight before her. Nick was working, or looked like he was working, his desk covered with paperwork. A tinge of envy curled in her belly when she saw the woman who was with him. Draped over him was Mrs. Franklin. Her bright, two-sizes-too-small shirt looked like someone’s idea of what a hooker might wear if she were to visit a ranch. Linda looked at the other woman’s jeans, so tight she wondered if zipping them had caused internal organ damage. She’d pay fifty bucks to watch the woman try to get up on a horse in those.

  “Linda.” Relief tinged Nick’s voice. “You’re right on time.”

  She thought of his refusal to sell the ranch and decided to get back at him. “Oh, I didn’t know you were busy, Nick. I can come back later.” She turned to leave.

  “No!” Nick jumped out of his chair, causing Ms. Tight Pants to stumble backward. If she hadn’t hit the wall, she would have fallen on her ass. “No, we have a lot to discuss.” He turned to the other woman. “Ms. Wheeler and I have ranch business to discuss this morning, Mrs. Franklin.”

  She looked at him, then toward Linda and back to him again. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips drew down in a pouty frown. “But, I thought we --”

  “Sybil.”

  Linda jumped at the deep, masculine voice behind her. Looking back over her shoulder, she gulped when she saw the man who belonged to the voice. Several inches over six feet and at least three hundred pounds, he looked like a mountain. He glanced at her, dismissed her, and then zeroed in on his wife. “Let’s go.”

  Without a word, Sybil followed, but she did throw one last fleeting look at Nick before she left. When the Linda shut the door, Nick exhaled.

  “Damn. I wish that woman would leave me the hell alone.”

  She didn’t say anything, just leaned against the door and raised an eyebrow.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “No.” Although a part of her really wanted to believe. “Seems to me your MO is running as usual.”

  “My MO?”

  “Yeah. Rich, bored wife, time on your hands, your hands on her.” She shrugged. “Same thing.”

  He stared for a moment, an incredulous look on his face. Then his lips curved, and he laughed. “You’re jealous.”

  “I am not.” Yes, she was, but she would never admit it. Nothing would ever come of the two of them, except really good sex. Why didn’t she just use him for sex? Because her heart would get involved, and he would crush it without a thought.

  “Yes, you are. I can tell by the tone in your voice.”

  “I’m not in the mood to argue with you ... about this. I want to know what the hell you were talking about last night.”

  Nick stared at Linda for a moment and tried to gather his thoughts. It was hard because the door was closed. And that just made him think about how alone they were. He could lock the door, strip her naked, and ride her hard.

  One look at her pinched expression told him she would probably not agree to his idea.

  “Why don’t you have a seat and we can discuss this.” He kept his tone light, making her be the small, petty one in the argument if she disagreed. She hesitated but then sighed and slipped into the chair.

  “Tell me.”

  “You sure know how to sweet-talk a man, Linda.” Sarcasm laced his voice. She rose to go, but he stayed her with a comment. “I need to have time to save up the money. I won’t agree to selling, but I promise at the end of six months, I will have it.”

  “And ... where do I fit in?”

  “I need an accountant.”

  “What?”

  “I lost my accountant about a year ago. Moved to Dallas, said there was no money here. Since then, I’ve been trying to handle it myself.”

  She winced, then sighed. “Oh, Lord.”

  “Yeah, you can imagine. It is a mess. So, if you do that, live here, I will pay your expenses, and at the end of six months, I will buy you out.”

  “I could take you to court.”

  “You could, but it would cost you more. And in the long run, this is the best thing. For both of us.”

  She muttered under her breath -- som
ething very unladylike. “I do want to talk to my lawyer, but I have a feeling you’re right.” She sighed and rubbed her forehead, and, for just a moment, he felt a twinge of guilt. “I don’t know why you want this, but if this is the only way to get my part of the money, I’ll do it.”

  “You’ll have your money; I’ll have my records back in order. Fair deal.”

  She sighed, shook her head, and left him with an uneasy feeling that the next six months were going to be hell.

  * * * * *

  Three weeks later, Linda shook her head and sighed. She looked around the office Nick had set up for her -- four walls, no windows -- and wondered what time it was. Her stomach grumbled, and she realized it was probably past lunchtime and she’d missed it. Again. She stretched her back by lifting her arms above her head, and groaned as her tight muscles protested.

  In the weeks since she’d taken up the job of bookkeeping for Nick, she’d realized the man had no organization. Oh, sure, he could plan a day for guests down to the last minute, but ask him where the receipt for last week’s delivery of hay was, and he couldn’t tell you. It’d turned into one big headache after another, trying to get the accounts caught up. Ten-hour days, seven days a week. This was worse than her last job.

  And to top it all off, she’d taken over reservations. More than once, someone showed up unexpectedly because no one in this damn place wrote anything down. If they did, it was on a scrap of paper that inevitably got lost.

  “You look tired.”

  She glanced toward the doorway and there stood Nick. Rested, clean, handsome. Looking good enough to eat. Shit. There she went again. She hadn’t had any more dreams about him, but she’d not been able to push the memories of the last one out of her mind.

  “After three seventy-hour weeks, I tend to get tired.” So she sounded like a little kid. She didn’t care. Tired, freaking hot, and hungry. It was what you got when she was in that condition.

  “I was heading to town to pick up a few things. Do you want to go?”