by Ann Cory
“What do you mean?” Her words came out breathy, labored.
“Bet you get all the boys riled up, and then just when their dicks are about to pop, you walk away and never look back.”
Desire pooled between her thighs. Her only thoughts on what he’d do to her next. “I’m not like that.”
He pinched her other nipple and pulled it taut. “I think you like to play hard to get.”
Montana shook her head.
“Or do you just like it hard?”
She rested her hand on the bulge of his jeans. “I like it hard as I can get it.”
“Thought so.”
With an impressive swiftness, he reached under her skirt and caught hold of the sides of her panties. The damp silk slid down the length of her legs. She toed them to the side. He hiked up her skirt around her waist and lifted her onto the edge of the pool table.
Montana worked the buttons of his denim apart and eased them over his briefs. She freed his erection and stroked him from base to tip. In urgency he yanked off his shirt. She weakened and ran her hands along the scarred planes.
“I swear you put a spell on me,” he rasped. “I had no intention of touching you.”
Her pulse pounded in her ears. “I did.”
She chuckled at the surprise on his face.
“You put a spell on me, or you intended for me to touch you?”
Mischief tugged her lips. “Both.”
He pushed her back so her hands rested along the green felt of the table, and savored each nipple. Montana arched. A slow building pressure within her core intensified. She wanted him with a ferocity that frightened her. But tiny threads of doubt consumed her. Here was a man who’d had plenty of women. Sophisticated, beautiful, adventurous women. A man of his caliber didn’t want the daughter of a whore. He deserved better.
Before she had a chance to voice her second thoughts, Lawson rested his palm between her thighs. “You’ve got something here that I want.”
Her lashes fluttered. The heavy-with-need tone coupled with his tormented gaze stripped away all doubts. “Then take it. What are you waiting for?”
He opened her with two fingers. A cry escaped her throat. He grazed his thumb along her moist slit. “So soft. So wet.”
Her pulse throbbed in her ears, her neck, her chest.
“Please, take me,” she sobbed.
“On. My. Time.”
“I want it hard and fast,” she said, her voice sharp. “Remember?”
“If I slide my cock inside you right now, I’m done for.”
Montana bit her lip at the blunt admission. “Oh.”
“Like I said. On my time.”
He lowered his chin between her thighs, his breath warm against her dampness. She shifted beneath him, half out of her mind with longing. Lips pressed tight, she forced back words meant to hurry him. She didn’t want to anger him. Or worse, give him reason to leave.
He worked one finger around her moist folds and teased his tongue along her hardened clit. He hummed in pleasure, the vibrations making her even more receptive. She watched the way he coaxed her open with two fingers, three fingers. Parting her. Readying her. His magnificent mouth sealed over her clit and her nipples beaded painfully.
“Lawson,” she whispered, loving the feel of her tongue against her teeth as she pronounced his name. “You make me feel so good.”
She loved the ticklish delight of his stubble against her mound. And his tufts of hair that brushed her belly. So sensitive, she felt even the most featherweight of touches.
In a sudden turn he ravished her clit, his fingers driving deeper. Faster.
He raised his head, replacing his mouth with his other fingers, the sheen of her juices apparent in the dim light. “Let go, Montana. Let yourself fall.”
She nodded and rocked her body against his fingers, the felt of the pool table soft against her back. A smile tipped his full masculine lips and he returned them to her clit, stroking his tongue just enough to help her reach the peak.
Her fingers raked behind her as she cried out, falling over the edge and allowing the black velvet sea to catch her. She floated for mere moments before a surge of desire knocked her back to reality. And the reality was that she wanted more.
Montana reached forward, tugging his black briefs farther down, and wrapped her hand around his cock.
With force, he turned her around and leaned her over the table. The sound of a foil wrapper followed.
Montana stared at the green felt, seeing where she’d raked her nails. Bigsby would flip.
“You ready for more of a hard time?”
She swallowed down a knot of need in her throat. “Oh god, yes.”
Her thighs trembled with impatience. The tip of his cock teased her longer than she cared for. She considered slamming back into him when he entered her, clean and fast. Filling her in length and width. He needed only to thrust once and pleasure exploded to every fiber of her being. Breasts heavy, her nipples scraped along the pool table, heightening all her senses.
“You’re a tight little thing.”
She widened her thighs and stuck her butt out to accommodate. He drove deeper.
Montana snuck a look over her shoulder, marveling at the intensity in his eyes, the tensing of his jaw. He had a handsome face she could stare at forever. She caught the dark, dangerous gleam in his eyes. Lust-filled liquid pools that made her breath hitch.
“Ready to take it harder?”
Her jaw slackened at his words. She gripped the sides of the pool table. Lawson drove into her again and again, his cock thick and hot. Legs tense for full impact, she clung to the table. He showed no mercy. He’d penetrate deep and withdraw long enough to elicit a sob, only to fill her completely again. His hand moved to the juncture between her thighs and rubbed her clit. Her body bucked against the dual stimulation. She didn’t care that the front of her thighs would sport bruises by morning. She didn’t care that her nipples were raw from the friction against the felt. And she didn’t care that she was going to have a difficult time carrying trays of beer and food with her sore arms from clenching so hard. This was the kind of scintillating, rough-and-tumble, thigh-numbing, full-out, high-octane sex she’d pined for.
He gripped her hips in his moist, strong hands and continued to take her hard and fast and deep.
Heat flooded her face as she neared the peak. She forced her hips back into him, meeting his ever increasing pace, readying herself for the climax. Wave after wave crashed into her and this time she let herself freefall while he barreled into her once more. His hands clenched her hips tight, nearly lifting her from the table, and then a deep, resonating growl erupted from his throat.
Her pulse throbbed to the steady beat of the music. Behind her she heard a hiss of air and then a quiet mumble of words. Montana feared his regret.
He withdrew and on shaky legs she turned. She opened her mouth to comment, when he silenced her with a kiss. She tasted herself on his tongue and kissed him back with renewed vigor. Lawson pulled away, leaving her lips raw and swollen.
“Whoa there. Easy.”
“Sorry.”
“Did you want to go back to my place?”
Feeling shy, she tugged her skirt down. “Why?”
“To talk, or something.”
“I thought that you…”
He pressed his finger to her lips. “Don’t read into it. I just don’t fuck and go.”
Montana smiled. She’d been wrong about him. He had a tender side. And she planned to use that to her full advantage. “Sure. Let me find my panties.”
Chapter Seven
Clint Mitchum tired of pacing and sat down at the kitchen table. He stared at his half-eaten sandwich and pushed the plate aside, opting for stale beer. The walls vibrated. A moment later the front door slammed.
Garvey ambled in and tossed his keys to the counter, plopping into the chair beside him.
“Hey pop, can’t sleep?”
Clint took in the boy’s ever ex
panding paunch. “Nah, my mind’s racing.”
“Cooking up a new scheme?”
Garvey’s ignorance aggravated him. “No. On account of the stranger. He’s bad news.”
“I dunno. Looks harmless enough. Shifty-eyed, though. Least he’s spending money.”
Clint pounded his fist. “You got sticks in those ears, boy? He’s oozing trouble out his armpits. And we don’t want his tainted money.”
“Oh. Okay.”
He ran his hand across his face, aware of the extra wrinkles he’d developed in the last year. “There’s something familiar about him and I don’t like it.”
“Familiar how?”
“If I knew I wouldn’t be sitting here,” he said with impatience. “My gut’s all tangled, and that only happens when something’s about to cause me a mess of problems.”
“Sorry, pop. You gonna finish that sandwich?” Garvey gave him a hopeful look that ratcheted his anger a notch higher.
“Shut up, boy. You need to hear what I’m saying. I want you to get your ass over to Montana’s place in the morning.”
“What for?”
“To see if she’s alone. From the way her mother behaved, I can’t trust her to not be thinking this newcomer’s her meal ticket outta here.”
“You sayin’ he might be with her?”
Clint chuckled. “Wipe that green off your face. That whore can have any man she wants, and she knows it. She’ll sink her nails into this guy and run off with him. Everyone knows she’s itching to leave, but we need to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Maybe he ain’t seen her yet.” Garvey reached toward the sandwich, but Clint knocked his hand out of the way and shoved the plate to the corner.
“No man misses the likes of Montana Lee.”
“What do I do if he’s there?”
“Beat the shit outta him and then lock him up. We can’t have strangers sniffin’ around the woman you plan to marry, can we?”
Garvey scratched his elbow. “Ah hell. She’s always telling me to get lost.”
“All women do that. They don’t know what they want. But I’ll say this, you’ve been nothing but a coward. Letting her tell you what to do.”
“I’m not a coward.”
“You’re a damn momma’s boy,” he said. “Quit taking no for an answer. It’s up to you to make an honest woman out of her. The second she tastes freedom you’ll never get a second chance.”
“Dammit, pop.”
“Act like a man and remind her who’s in control. Women like to be told what to do. Don’t let her think she’s got your pecker wrapped around her little finger. Put her in her place.”
“She’s a tough little thing,” Garvey whined. “Has quite a mouth on her. I get near her and I’m all tongue-tied.”
Clint drummed his fingers. “Once you get into her panties, I guarantee that’ll change.”
A smile creased the boy’s lips. “Doubt it.”
“Trust me. The novelty wears off. Sooner than you think.”
“She’s not like any of the other women here.”
Clint snorted. “Course not. She’s the daughter of a whore.” He licked his lips and relaxed into the chair. “Look, sometimes you gotta take what you want. Otherwise someone will step in and take what’s yours. See?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now, get some sleep. I expect you up early.”
Garvey nodded and sauntered down the hall, his head down like a defeated dog.
While he’d done his best to raise the boy, Clint hated how little they were alike. Too soft in the middle and not much smarts. Still, he’d been strapped with him.
Clint leaned forward, his head pounding. The stranger meant trouble. He didn’t need trouble. And Little Miss Short Skirt didn’t need the motivation to skip town. His father didn’t stand for outsiders, and neither did he. A bullet could be mighty persuasive.
* * * * *
Garvey knew sleep wouldn’t come with Montana on his mind. She occupied his every thought. Not hard when she paraded around in slinky clothes that showed off her figure. Or when the sun hit her shiny gloss and made her lips irresistible. None of the women in town compared to Montana Lee.
If she’d let him, she’d understand how much he cared. He wanted her happy and smiling and his. He wanted to come home to her after another wasted day and make love ’til sunrise.
Garvey removed his gun and holster, and sank to the bed.
Now he had a stranger to contend with. He didn’t need the competition.
His pop had a point. Maybe it was time to prove his intentions to Montana. Maybe she’d respect him more for it. She lit him on fire, even when she treated him like dirt. He knew the novelty of being with her would never wear off. All the nights he’d stood outside her window and watched her undress. Seen her step out from the shower, dewy wet and fresh looking.
Garvey didn’t want anyone else touching her. He was done being pushed away. Come morning he’d give Montana the kind of attention she wanted. Whether she begged him to or not.
Chapter Eight
Lawson picked at the chipped paint in his motel room. He didn’t know why he’d invited Montana back, but he didn’t want to bail right after sex like he always did. Had he any sense, he would’ve kept his ass out of the bar.
She sat on the bed, her nipples plump beneath her nothing of a shirt. The nipples he’d had his lips around. She’d been so hot, so damn responsive that even when he wanted to turn and run, he couldn’t ignore the pull. The scent of her lingered on his skin, his fingers, his entire body. Fuck she smelled good.
Lawson ran a hand through his hair. He needed to get his mind off her body and back to why he’d returned to Rattler City.
He glanced around, uncomfortable and craving beer.
“Did you want me to leave?” She looked up at him, her eyes big and expectant.
“I didn’t say that.” He hated the way she read his thoughts.
Her features clouded. “Are you sorry you fucked me?”
Lawson fiddled with the chipped wall some more. What could he say? She was the devil in disguise. A sexy little seductress hell bent on destroying all the plans he’d worked up over the years. He’d already told her straight out—no attachments. She couldn’t give him grief about it later.
“I’m sorry you’re here at all,” he said. “Why do you stay? You don’t belong in this place.”
She sighed. “It’s complicated.”
“What’s complicated?”
“I don’t have enough money to leave. I’d never make it on my own.”
“You work,” he pointed out. “I’m sure you get decent tips.”
Montana shook her head. “I can’t up and leave like you. I have obligations and responsibilities.”
All he heard were excuses. “Like what?”
“Like my momma’s debt. Half my earnings go toward paying off her loans.”
Lawson leaned his shoulder against the wall. “I don’t understand.”
“My momma borrowed a lot of money to help pay for our home when we moved here, and for food and clothes. It took her a while to get a job. After she died there was a large sum of money still waiting to be taken care of, and I had to borrow more to pay for her burial.”
Sounded more like slavery to him. “Doesn’t seem right to me.”
“It’s the law.”
He wanted to shoot a great big hole through the law. “Seems to me the law wouldn’t be this big entity if you and the rest of the town took a stand and did something to change it.”
“Are you kidding? Mitchum doesn’t take crap from nobody. If you cross him you’ll pay with your life.”
“That so?”
“Yeah. I know of a few men who went against Mitchum over a land deed, and they wound up dead. It keeps everyone quiet.”
While that didn’t surprise him, he hated hearing about people who cowered in fear, especially when it meant assholes profited.
“Do you really think they’d kill y
ou if you stopped paying on your momma’s debt?”
She paused, chewing her lip. “I don’t know. I’m afraid to find out.”
“Why do you let people take advantage of you? You seem like a smart girl. Act like one.”
Her feet hit the floor and she marched right up into his face. “I am smart. I’m also stuck.”
“No one is ever stuck,” he insisted. “Pick up and go. What are they going to do to you?”
She blinked, her eyes glossy with tears. “Maybe you’re a rebel, but I’m scared. My childhood was shit. I have no idea who my father is. My mom spent every night with a different guy, which made for an awful lot of uncles.”
He rolled his shoulders. “She probably didn’t know any better.”
“For a while, I felt like I was the parent. And then she died. Some sudden illness. And I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to. Since then I’ve worked my ass off to not be like her.”
“Good. But how does that make you stuck?”
Her voice rose. “Because I’m stuck paying for her sins. Because at the snap of his fingers, Mitchum can send twenty men after me for a nice fat reward. Because I’ll never get far enough fast enough to be out of their reach.” She paused for a breath, her eyes like sparks from a fire. “I swore that once I broke free from this place, I’d never come back. Not by choice and not by force. Everything will be worse for me here if I’m caught. Understand?”
“So you’re scared.”
“Dammit, I said that I’m scared. I’m not a reckless wanderer like you. I don’t drive a fancy truck. Do you see anyone around here with a truck? The only vehicles are owned by the law. If you want to pay for gas you might as well sell a loved one, it will cost as much. We’re all prisoners here. Screw you if you can’t understand.”
Lawson reached for her, but she reeled away.
“Don’t pity me.”
“I don’t.”
“Right. Lie to me some more.”
“I haven’t lied.”
“Then stop judging me.”
Lawson saw through the tough girl act, but didn’t want to say anything. He just wanted her to go so he could stop picturing her on the pool table and think straight. He knew that if he took her out of Rattler City, he’d never let her go. A mistake he knew better than to follow through with.