“Not sure how she feels, but I wouldn’t want to be compared to a horse. You might need a bit more finesse to court this girl, Clint. With her looks, she could have any man she wants.” Goading him helped to ease her jealousy.
“True, she does have a dynamite body. But darlin’, it’s her mind that attracts me.” He winked and then guzzled the beer. His throat muscles drew her attention and she zeroed in on his tanned face. If a director for an action movie needed an actor to star in a macho-masculine role, Clint would be the guy he’d hire. No one could ever mistake him for a softie, or a weakling.
He looked at her, waiting, his eyebrow raised.
“You’ve convinced me. Now you just need to spin that story on the girl herself.”
Clint leaned toward her, his beer held in both hands between his open knees. “Annie-love, trust me. Cathy’s not a girl. She’s a woman. And she knows exactly what she wants.”
❋
He’d turned out to be right. However, it hadn’t looked like the woman wanted Clint. At least, she hadn’t cared enough to show up at the bar where he was performing.
When Anne arrived with Denise, Clint was there alone. And he was feeling no pain. Cathy wasn’t anywhere in sight, and Anne instinctively understood that he drank because he pined for her. Not that he’d ever admit it, but she knew being rejected wouldn’t sit well with the spoiled rancher.
The atmosphere of the tavern soothed her. The pool tables, in the corner, were placed in the only well-lit area; the long mirrored bar sported fancy glasses, and various alcohol-filled bottles were lined up on the high glass shelves. The stage, where the band played a popular song guaranteed to get dancers on their feet, had neon signs to jazz up the atmosphere. Even the booths along the far wall, where the lighting was sparse, were familiar now. Anne felt the excited rush she always got when entering the darkened establishment.
Her eyes trailed Clint to the bar where he was centered in a group; both males and females were fawning over his every word. Popular, he never wanted for attention. Grabbing a table on the outer rim of the dance floor, she pretended to ignore him and then winced when he lifted his beer bottle in her direction and acknowledged her arrival.
She never drank at these dances, legally she wasn’t allowed. Even though a lot of the other girls snuck booze in and hid it in their purses; she always agreed to drive, and was happy with the soda water and lemon. Once, when a young rodeo star had tried forcing a drink on her, Clint had taken him outside for a talk, only to have the stranger not reappear. Acting as her keeper, Clint stayed out of her affairs until she was in a public place, and then he made sure she played by the rules.
“Hey Annie, you came after all.”
“Denise came over and talked me into it. It truly hadn’t been my intention.”
“So you said earlier.” His droll tone made her wince.
“Denise changed my mind.” She had refused his earlier invitation to hang out with him and Cathy. After all, being a third wheel and watching the other two paw each other couldn’t be tolerated any more than was absolutely necessary. The devil got inside and prompted her next comment. “Where’s the star?”
He knew who she meant instantly. Moody-like, he stood up from where he’d been leaning against the back of the booth and winked. “Cathy’s gonna be late, but she’ll show.”
Speaking from the heart, but trying to make it sound as if she was teasing, Anne asked, “How could she stay away when you’re the entertainment tonight? After all their pleading, they finally got you to agree to sing with the boys.”
He looked a little disgruntled. “Yeah, well, I’m just helping them out tonight. Their headliner got sick and they were desperate.”
Anne laughed. “Sure, desperate! Come, on Clint. They’ve been after you for a long time because you bring in the crowds. And the girls love you.”
He leaned in close and pulled her ponytail. “All the girls?”
“Right. Sorry. Most of the girls.” She crossed her eyes, and loved that he walked away laughing.
As the evening progressed, she watched how many times his eyes swung to the entrance and disappointment crowded out his enjoyment. He drank more than usual, and his laugh sounded louder, more strained. Flirting, which came as natural as breathing to him, seemed more forced, less fun.
Denise and Marty spent a lot of time dancing. Her friend had decided this long lanky cattleman was her hope for the future and had worked hard to spike his interest. It seemed to be paying off. Anne was glad for her and would have no problem driving home alone when she’d had enough.
She, too, danced with the same safe fellows Clint had approved of over the last few months and the evening passed quickly. Until a new male entered the establishment and he approached Anne for a dance. This youngish man had an impish smile and a charming manner. He looked real good and… he knew it.
Dressed like a cowboy, from his pushed-back hat to his worn boots, he leaned against the bar, drinking from a whiskey glass. For some strange reason, she’d caught his attention and his eyes remained fixed as he watched her. She pretended not to see him, but he didn’t look away. Soon, she began to feel a mite uncomfortable until he finally made his move.
Swaggering toward her, he held out his hand as an invitation and drawled, “May I?”
Anne stood.
Obviously watching over her, Clint didn’t hesitate to interfere. “Take a hike, she’s off limits.” With his arms crossed and an insolent attitude, Clint waited until the other man shrugged and turned back to the bar.
Anne didn’t know whether to feel relieved, or angry. “Clint, I came here to dance, and you’re scaring away all my partners.”
“Sweet cheeks, you wanna dance? Fine! Then let’s.” He opened his arms invitingly, but she slapped at them and tried to walk away. Before she knew what his intentions were, he’d swung her around, into his embrace. With her body glued to his, and her feet dangling off the ground, she held on. She’d have complained if her heart hadn’t slid into her throat, and cut off her ability to speak.
Clinging, she slid down his muscular length until her feet were keeping time with the slow two-step he was forcing her to dance. Her hand, held tightly in his, tingled. As did every nerve in her overheated body. They screamed with pleasure at being held so firmly by the man she’d fixated on for so long.
When he leaned closer, his breath hitched. The sound arrowed straight to her weak knees. Bending to look into her eyes, his will forced her to surrender. She met his gaze. His husky words sped her already racing heart to a painful level.
“Annie-girl, I believe you’re dangerous.”
“Me?” she squeaked. Her inner groan cursed her loss of control. “
“Yeah! You.” His hand tightened around her fingers. He maneuvered them both past another couple, and the move pulled her even closer. Overly-sensitized, her breasts nudged his chest, and his indrawn breath destroyed her already revved senses. The faint smell of his musk aftershave, a scent she’d always associated with him, surrounded her and made the fantasy realistic. This wasn’t like any of her daydreams. She was actually here, in his arms, dancing.
The song changed to a slower beat. “Love Me Tender,” an old Elvis favorite, persuaded many of the couples onto floor.
Continuing the dance, his thighs brushed against hers and his warm hand felt like a brand on her back. As much as she yearned to look at him and see if he was as affected, she couldn’t let him see the blatant invitation she knew would be apparent. Tongue glued to the top of her mouth, she prayed for the music to never stop.
Their steps in sync, swaying through the crowded bodies of necking couples forced him to pull her in closer. Molded as one, they moved together and the building sensuality deepened. The dimmed lights gave the illusion that they were alone in the room. The music playing in the background faded against the sound of his breathing. Their fantasy world continued, and Anne’s heart thumped in time with the beat—and his breath.
She clung to him.
>
He held her possessively.
All the yearning she’d endured, from the first day she’d laid eyes on this cowboy, now teased her senses; and the sexual haze they’d created engulfed them both. By this time, their bodies were in full contact. The hardness in his groin fit perfectly into the welcoming, and now drenched, part on her body that wept to be satisfied.
His groan echoed and then his lips searched. She lifted her face and felt his hot mouth work its way from her neck and along the side by her cheek to where she waited, anticipating a moment in her lifetime that could never be matched. The point of no return! An inciting incident that would forever change her future.
“Hey, Pal.” Marty, Clint’s best buddy, pulled his arm. “The band’s calling for you. It’s time for your song.”
This time she groaned. No! Please!
Clint stopped dancing and held her close. His whispered words completely dissolved her magical world. “Baby, you’re playing with fire. It’s time for little girls to go home. I’ll get Marty to drive you.”
Looking at his boots, she backed away and wrapped her arms around her body. “No! I came in Rose’s car. I can get myself home. Go sing. Can’t you hear everyone calling for you?”
“Nope! All I’ve heard for the last while is your breathing, and it’s driven me into making a big mistake. Go home, Annie-girl. Or I’ll forget I’m still a gentleman who doesn’t play around with babies.”
His words gave her the courage to glare her anger. “Your body didn’t think I was such a baby a few minutes ago, smartass.”
Clint gave her the smile that always weakened her knees. “Honey, I’m just a man.” He sauntered away through the crowd, and she watched the sway of his hips. He moved like no one else she’d ever met. Probably the first thing she’d fallen for was the way the man walked. As if he had all the time in the world, and his body heard music to move to that no one else could. The crowd parted for him. There were the backslaps and bawdy comments normal in a bar full of half-sloshed individuals, having the time of their lives.
As most pushed to the front, Anne moved to lean against one of the pillars in the back. She watched Clint pull his guitar strap over his red-checkered, western-styled, body-hugging shirt and place it comfortably. With a slight nod from him, the band began playing the melody, and soon his voice soared throughout the room. Effortlessly, smoothly, and with a voice as husky as a western singer’s should be; he sang an old Elvis ballad, and soon quiet filled the room.
Tears gathered and threatened to erupt when Anne heard his choice of music. Taking it personally, and rather than letting everyone see her make a fool of herself, she ran. The words followed her all the way to her car. Words obviously meant for his sweetheart, Cathy. “And it’s breakin’ my heart, ’cause she’s not you.”
Chapter Five
Anne heard Clint’s SUV pull into the yard and then saw a second pair of headlights as another car followed. Opening the curtains at her bedroom window which overlooked the front of the house, she watched as Marty climbed out of the driver’s side of the SUV and made his way around to his waiting truck, and then those taillights faded in the night.
Anne waited to see if Clint appeared and when he didn’t, she decided to investigate. Slipping into a pair of shortie pajamas, she tiptoed out of her room and to the French doors that opened from the family room. Once outside in the night air, she patted the wriggling pet, Dawg, to keep him quiet. When she went to Clint’s vehicle, she found him out cold on the back seat. With his hat off and his thick hair all mussed, he looked different; less intimidating, more approachable.
She opened the door quietly and jiggled his shoulder. “Clint, wake up. Come into the house. You don’t want your pa to see you like this or there’ll be hell to pay. “
“Go ‘way!”
“You’re drunk but not stupid. He’ll be furious.”
He glared at her, sat up and leaned forward. “Not drunk enough or I wouldn’t be able to hear you.” He brushed his hands over his face and reached for the bottle of beer in the cup holder. He took a good swig. “Either go away, or get in and close the door. The light is annoying.”
Thinking he needed a friend tonight, she slid in next to him. “What happened? Cathy didn’t show?”
“You left early.” He changed the subject as he tended to do when asked a question he didn’t want to answer.
“Didn’t figure you’d notice.”
“Now why would you go and say something like that? I’ve always watched out for you.”
“True. ‘Cause Rose told you to.”
He grinned crookedly and nodded. “That’s part of it, I guess. But I like you, so it’s not a chore.”
His words zipped straight into her secret stash of everything nice he’d ever said to her and were filed on the top. “I like you too.” She admitted it shyly, her voice low, cracking with emotion.
The words caught his attention, and he reached for her hand. She moved in closer and gave it to him. “She didn’t show?”
“Nah! ‘So-kay. I don’t care.” His slurred words endeared him to her. Being vulnerable wasn’t an emotion one would ever associate with Clint Walsh.
“I’m sorry.” She stroked his palm with her thumb, not expecting the reaction it produced. He used their joined hands to pull her closer so that she now rested on him from the waist up. Then he threaded his fingers through her long hair and pushed it behind her shoulders. Slightly longer than Cathy’s, it drew his attention. He leaned in and sniffed the strands he’d gathered.
“Hmm, sunshine and flowers—it smells nice.”
Anne heard the words, but having his large hands anywhere on her body had created such an effect that she couldn’t speak.
After he’d petted her hair, he moved to her face and then cradled her head, holding it in place for his lips to follow. They grazed her cheeks. Then he kissed one eye and slowly moved to the other.
Steeling herself for his final attack on her mouth almost had her whimpering in need. Hurry! Please!!
As if he heard her inner pleading, he licked at her upper lip and then, teasingly, sucked it into his mouth. Finally, he released it and waited, not moving. The tension revved so high that the only thought she had in her mind was please, please— oh please.
Kiss me! Now!
At last, as if he couldn’t stop himself, he assaulted both her lips in a kiss that stripped her of any will power to end this farce before it went any further.
Did he even know who he was kissing? She didn’t want to say anything because what if he called her Cathy? That couldn’t be borne.
He stopped tormenting her mouth and instead looked down to her chest. Without hesitation, he slowly opened the first button of her cotton and lace pajama top and then the next. She didn’t move, instead she watched, and then her head rolled back on the seat and all she did was feel.
After he had all of the buttons opened, his hand snaked in and cupped her swollen breast. Not too large, and in no way small, it seemed to please him. His massage of the sensitive tip sent messages to her lower stomach, which woke up her juices and started them flowing. Her nipple, already hardened with delight, tightened even further
She moaned her acceptance. As if she’d called to him, he kissed her once more. Only this kiss wasn’t anything a young virgin would expect. It was hard, bold, demanding.
Finally, when she thought she’d pass out from sheer ecstasy, he stopped. “Baby, you’re very tempting.” He spoke with his mouth centimeters from hers. As if magnetized by sheer force, his stare drew hers.
Since he seemed to be waiting for her to say something, she gave him look for look and said. “And you’re very skilled. I like what you’re doing.”
He nodded. “Me too.” He angled her legs over his so she all but sat on his knee.
His calloused hand, hard yet warm, stroked her bare skin from her ankles up to her knees and then along her thighs. It cupped her groin and rubbed there too.
The swelling of his desire pus
hed against her thigh and reminded her that this was a hungry man beside her. A man who wanted her, or at least desired her body. Was she willing to give him what he wanted? Or maybe even needed?
Her saving herself, waiting for that special person, became nullified by the fact that she loved him so much. Having Clint be the one to teach her the ways of a woman would make every dream she’d ever had, about her first time, come true. Oh yeah! She wanted his hands on her bare skin, and his body inside of hers. Now! Please!
Finally, when her delighted mouth was almost numb from his demands, he tore his lips from hers and stared into her eyes. “Are you sure you want this? ‘Cause if not, stop me now.”
God! No! Whimpering, she moaned, “Don’t stop.”
The next thing she knew he’d laid her across the back seat, tugged the sides of her blouse open and began kissing her breasts. He paid paying special attention to her nipples and his teasing drove her wild. First, his hot, wet tongue lathed the right one. Next he drew the skin into his mouth so he could suck at it. This must have excited the nerves centers because it produced an unexpected orgasm of total, mind-blowing pleasure.
Never having experienced such devastatingly beautiful peaks, her breath caught and stuck in her throat while she rode the waves. He must have noticed because his whispers made the pleasure more memorable. “Aww sweetheart, you are one beautiful woman.” His breath added sensations that her gratified skin telegraphed her brain, and the delight in having his lips so close to her heart added an even deeper dimension.
Soon, he worked the elastic on her PJ shorts and helped her shimmy them down and then off. Lowering his jeans required a little more dexterity, but soon she heard his heavy breathing close to her ears. She knew her own whimpers of delightful anticipation probably spurred him on. He positioned her in such a way that they weren’t too uncomfortable, and he took her to heights she could only dream of.
All the while he made such achingly sweet love to her; his reassuring whispers turned the encounter into a thing of magic. When he finally entered her body, the husky words “I love you” buried themselves into her very soul. From that moment on, he was her one and only.
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