by Jade Allen
Her voice was a lilting soprano as she crooned, tantalizing everyone and drawing them in. She sang about unrequited love and loss of innocence and betrayal in such haunting tunes that by the time she was finished, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. Her gaze met Jason’s once across the crowded room, but she simply looked through him as though he didn’t exist.
She bowed low, accepting the praises and whistles from the gathered crowd, painfully aware that in a corner of the room, Jason sat, silently watching her. His eyes roved languorously over every inch of her body with such bold intensity it was almost as though he had touched her physically.
Leila felt a flush work up her cheeks as she pretended not to notice that her breasts had beaded into hard little points of desire beneath the thin lace of her bra.
So that was what she meant when she said she was going to ‘perform’ to make up for broken furniture, Jason realized as he watched her drink in the adulation of the excited crowd. She was a country singer, and a damned good one!
His heart thudded loudly in his chest as he watched her accepting praises from several patrons at the bar. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever met, he decided trying to ignore a surprising stab of jealousy as he watched her grin at a gap-toothed octogenarian. Heck, the man was old enough to be her great-grandfather and here he was, wanting to knock the old man’s teeth out for smiling at Leila.
He had fallen for her, he realized. It didn’t even make sense since he hadn’t gotten to know a lot about her, but he felt strongly attached to her. Before he was even aware of moving, he was standing in her path.
He saw her green eyes narrow with a flash of intense hatred and he knew genuine sorrow.
“You sing very well,” he said. “You have an amazing voice.”
Leila didn’t say anything, just regarded him in wary silence. What more does this jackass want from me? she wondered.
“I’m sorry,” he got out before she could escape him. “I’m a monster. I feel sick about this situation, and I haven’t eaten in days. I’m so sorry I hurt you, Leila.”
Cold anger darkened her eyes and he realized he was digging his hole deeper.
“Leila—” he began.
Without a word, she yanked her arm from his grasp and melted into the crowd.
Jason bowed his head in defeat, but this time, he didn’t try to stop her. He let her go.
The fair had opened up into a party of sorts with dancing and drinking going on. Rock and rolled strummed from the speakers as different cowboys shuffled with their partners on the dance floor.
Jason sipped his beer, sitting in a corner of the room as his eyes scanned the crowd for signs of Leila’s leopard skin dress.
He heard a throaty laughter and looked in that direction; Leila was being twirled about by one brawny cowboy with his hat pulled low over his forehead as he dimpled down at her. They look so perfect together, he thought feeling something suspiciously like jealousy eat away at his insides.
He watched as Leila’s laughter turned into girly giggles as the wonder-cowboy bent her backwards over his strong arm. Impatience strummed along Jason’s veins and in a flash, he was beside the laughing couple. His heart constricted in his chest as he watched Leila’s happy smile dry on her face as she caught sight of him.
“Mind if I cut in?” he said gruffly, his eyes daring the other man to challenge him.
“As a matter of fact I do!” Leila spat.
Jason grinned at her. “I was talking to the man darlin’. Jesse?” he asked.
Jesse Catalona grinned and quickly released Leila into Jason’s arms.
“That’s not even remotely funny,” she growled.
“Tell me about it. How did you manage to keep your toes intact? Catalona is notorious for having two left feet!”
“That’s not what I meant,” she said, her eyes flashing fire at him as she stiffened in his arms. “I like Jesse!”
“As do half the gay men in Texas! He’s gay,” Jason lied baldly.
He watched the confused expressions play across Leila’s features and he hid a grin. Jesse, who also happened to be a good friend of his, would skin him alive if this got back to him. Jesse was straight, and unless Jason missed his guess, was as interested in Leila as he was.
“You have an amazing voice,” he told her softly.
“Thanks,” she muttered, ducking her head as she hid a blush. Her eyes sparkled at him, lively and vibrant.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed.
His head descended slowly and his mouth melded with hers. Passion sparked immediately and with a groan that was part-triumph, part-longing; Jason deepened the kiss. His tongue stroked hers, sending shivers of excitement down her spine, and without thinking, Leila arched into him, her breasts shoving against the hard wall of his chest.
Jason’s hands tightened around Leila’s waist and the feel of his wide palm caressing her ass drew her back to Earth with a thud. She jerked out of his arms and glared at him as she furiously rubbed the back of her hand across her lips.
“Stay the hell away from me,” she spat, her eyes glittering angrily at him.
She spun around, and for the second time that night, melted into the crowd.
****
Leila whistled to herself as she strolled towards her new hotel after the rodeo activities two days later. Jason had performed so badly again that some people had actually accused him of deliberately throwing the match. She had learned so much about the cowboys just sitting in the stands and her ears were still ringing with tales of his sexual conquests, financial triumphs and saddle skills. Evidently, he had been a playboy extraordinaire for years and no one was surprised to see him with two women at a time. He was even more popular in cowboy circles because he was a bronc-riding champion ten years in a row.
Well, what most of those people didn’t know was that he was a jerk and a heartless libertine. She had learned that lesson firsthand. He’d been sending a dozen roses to her place of work every day for the last two days. She had blushed mightily when the first set was delivered, drawing whistles and calls from everyone in the bar. But the second night, one look at the roses and she had stolen outside to weep silently, her anguish rocking her body. She loved him, she knew; but that also meant he had the power to hurt her.
A prickling sensation at the back of her neck made her pause in her strides but when she turned around, the hallway was empty. She needed to freshen up quickly and rush downstairs to perform. Being a country singer certainly had its perks—for instance, it put food on her table—but when she was depressed, singing was the last thing she wanted to do. She just wanted to curl up in a ball and sob her heart out.
“Sobbing doesn’t pay the bills, honey,” she murmured to herself as she hurriedly shrugged out of her tattered jeans and tee-shirt and slipped into a slinky black dress that hugged her body like a second skin and heavily pronounced all her curves.
Leila bit her lips as she turned this way and that in front of the mirror. It was a decent enough dress, but was it too revealing?
A harsh knock sounded at the door and she rolled her eyes. The manager at this hotel was a royal pain in the ass, and he seemed to think that she was supposed to be the very first person to arrive for the performance.
“Leila,” the unsmiling man on the other side breathed the moment she opened the door.
“Jason! How the hell did you find me?” she grated, her heart clutching painfully in her chest as she glared at him.
Was it her imagination, or was he somewhat thinner than she remembered?
“I just wanted to explain what happened. It was a misunderstanding, nothing more.”
Leila glared back at him, “Good for you. Now get out!”
“I didn’t forget that night. I knew something good and profound had happened I was just fuzzy on the details.”
Just like that, her anger returned. Her eyes glittered at him as she pouted, “You couldn’t remember we slept together! It’s in the past. No need to rehash
that now.”
She turned her head away, waiting for him to walk out of the room and out of her life. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing the tears glistening in her eyes.
“What I mean is, I took a lot of booze and then you must have given me aspirin at some point—”
“I gave you aspirin for the bump on your head,” she said defensively, leaning back to put some much-needed space between them. “Now you’re going to hold onto that?”
His turquoise gaze slanted over her smooth features, her sad eyes, her pouty mouth and he felt his heart tighten in his chest.
“Give me another chance Leila,” he said softly. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a while. That was the first night I slept peacefully without any nightmares.”
Leila chewed at her lips. He looked honest enough that she wanted to believe him, but she couldn’t let go of something that was eating away at her.
“Who the hell is Fiona?”
Unbearable sadness crossed his features, and then he said, “Why don’t we sit down and talk about this somewhere else? Like over lunch?”
“No. Here!” she insisted with childish petulance.
He grinned. She was as cute as a button.
“Fiona was my wife who ran off with my best friend and got killed in a freak accident as they drove off.” He waited to feel the familiar pain in his chest, but all he felt was just a hollow sadness at two lives wasted and nothing more. No bitterness; nothing.
He looked at her, “I was bitter for a long while. Hell, I was bitter until I met you. But somehow you healed me. You are good, pure, smart, funny and sexy as hell.”
Leila blushed. “Oh stop. I’m fat.”
“You’ve got a body that could tempt a eunuch and make a monk stare; and I love you just the way you are. You are the sexiest, most beautiful woman alive.”
Leila stared into his eyes; sincerity blazed back at her. He loves me? How?
Jason seemed to read her mind because he said softly, “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. Is it any wonder that I love you?”
Leila’s reservations melted away, as she leaned into him and lifted her face for his kiss.
That was all the encouragement Jason needed. With a rough hungry sound, he tumbled her onto the bed and rolled her onto her back, easily fitting his slender hips between her legs. Leila inhaled sharply at the feel of his hard masculine length against her. Their hands jointly made quick work of their clothes and they were naked in each other’s arms in record time.
Then she instinctively pushed her breasts into his face, wanting to feel that exquisite sucking he did so well. Jason obliged immediately, his lips licking and flicking over her nipple.
Frenzied need pulsed through Leila as Jason’s callused palms caressed every inch of her satiny skin in a mixture of wonder and desire. She writhed against him as craving roared through her before pooling in her moist center.
Leila cradled his head, holding him tighter against her breasts as she pleaded, “Fuck me now, Jason!”
That was all the encouragement Jason needed as he thrust into her in one sure masterful stroke that joined them perfectly and sheathed him to the hilt.
“I love you,” he murmured, his blue eyes clashing with her green ones.
Leila grinned at him, her heart bursting with happiness as she said the words he longed to hear, “I love you too, Jason. Always and forever.”
THE END
Riding The Cowboy Brothers
“OK, I guess that's everything,” Olivia sighed as she closed the trunk of her navy blue Focus. She turned to Michelle, the young woman standing behind her, and wrapped her arms around her tightly. The two had been roommates, classmates and best friends for the past three years. Olivia swallowed hard, fighting back tears that were brimming in her blue-green eyes.
“I'm going to miss you so much,” Michelle choked, and Olivia nodded in reciprocation.
Olivia felt like the proverbial lion with her tail tucked between her legs. She couldn't believe she was heading for home. No doubt, her family would view her as the petulant child, determined to do things her own way until she realized mommy and daddy had known best all along. She'd driven away from her family's ranch three years ago toward a better life; a life in the glamorous fashion industry—or a two-year program at a prestigious fashion school to be precise.
She'd decided there was no way she was going to spend her life surrounded by cows, horses, chickens, goats and every other animal that made her feel like she was living in a petting zoo. “And somehow that seemed unfair,” Olivia thought ironically. With the nearest neighbor living miles down the road, Olivia was the only creature on her parents' ranch who was not getting any petting.
But, a year after graduating at the top of her class and absolutely no job prospects in sight—unless one would call a part-time job at the local Walmart a prospect—and Olivia was forced to admit defeat. Nearly penniless, she was using the last of her meager savings to make the shameful trek home.
“Just think, I'll be the most stylish woman on the ranch. And you never know. One day Diane Von Furstenberg's car might break down right outside and she'll be so impressed with the fashionable girl who gives her car a boost that she'll take me under her wing. I could be designing for one of the most prestigious fashion houses in no time,” Olivia tried to lighten the mood.
She released Michelle then and slowly made her way to the driver's side door. Olivia waved goodbye, slid into the car and slowly drove out of the apartment building's parking lot. And in just a few short hours, she'd be pulling into the ranch's long front drive.
“It isn't all bad,” she reassured herself as she drove.
In truth, she'd missed her family terribly, finding it strange and difficult to see them so infrequently. She had assumed she'd get used to it, but even now as she drove home in defeat, she knew that at least a small part of her was already excited to see her parents once again. They had empathized with her when she called to tell them she'd be moving back home, but the tone in their voices was hard to miss—they were sad to hear their daughter was struggling but obviously happy to have her back. Olivia smiled. She supposed she could have it worse. Sure, she'd bombed in the real world, but her family was right there waiting for her with open arms.
Still, she had absolutely no idea what she was going to do now, and her thoughts meandered through the limited possibilities as she merged onto the highway that would lead her home. “Do I resign myself to an ordinary life on the ranch?” she wondered. “Bring modern fashion to the countryside in hopes of eking out a meager existence dressing the local ranchers in style? I could always become the first fashion designer for farm animals,” she considered wryly, and then giggled aloud at the ridiculous images the thought brought to mind.
It was enough to jostle Olivia out of her misery. “That's the end of it,” she determined as, hours later, she pulled off the highway and onto the road that was so familiar. Just twenty more minutes and she'd be home, and she would sulk no more. Sure, she had no idea what lay ahead of her, but she was young and had time to figure it out.
A smile returned, as she used up the brief remaining moments of the drive to reminisce over her years away from home. She'd left the ranch an inexperienced juvenile, eager to sample everything the big city and life in the fast lane had to offer. She'd met a multitude of wonderful people—and a few creeps and degenerates—along the way. She'd grown in so many ways over the past three years that, even if her adventure in fashion ended here, she was a better person for it.
Olivia took a deep breath as she spied the gates that marked the entrance to her parents' ranch, and she whispered as she exhaled, “Home.” Another minute and she had pressed the buzzer and the gates had opened before her. She began to ascend the long drive to the sprawling house at the top, vaguely able to make out the two figures awaiting her on the front porch—her parents, no doubt. But her attention was drawn elsewhere.
A new figure app
eared from beyond the side of the house, moving easily but deliberately toward the home's front porch. Even after such a long absence, she would recognize his confident stride anywhere. Dean. She'd spent countless hours watching him throughout her teen years and even more conjuring images of him in her adolescent fantasies. Oh, she'd almost forgotten how hot and bothered he'd made her, but it was coming back to her quickly now.
Olivia had never been quick to envy—she was generally happy to see others get, even when she didn't, but she remembered one evening Dean had forced her to succumb to the green-eyed monster. She'd been sixteen at the time. She had walked into the horse stalls late in the day to find him brushing down one of the family's horses after a hard ride. She'd never before thought she could be so jealous of a horse. She'd stood there, unable to move or tear her gaze away, watching the taut, sinewy muscles of his arms flex as he moved along the horse's body. He'd obviously gotten a good workout too; his naked torso still glistening with sweat. God, how she'd wished she was the horse right then. Hell, she would have been happy to be the T-shirt casually draped over his shoulder. He spoke and her eyes were drawn to his lips, watching them move as he talked softly to the horse. Until then, she had no idea a man's lips could be so captivating, but her body had begun to ache and throb as she imagined all the wicked things those lips could do to her.
Olivia shook her head, trying to stem the flow of arousal that had begun to course through her veins and force her thoughts back to the present. She'd been just twelve years old when nineteen-year-old Dean had first come to work on the ranch, and only a doe-eyed virgin seventeen-year-old when he'd left at twenty four to attend to some family matter. He'd never seen her as anything other than the rancher's kid. Olivia had left for college while he was still away, but seeing him now told her absolutely nothing had changed. “Damn!” she cursed quietly, begrudgingly acknowledging her hopeless infatuation with her parents' number one horse wrangler.