Texas Fever

by Kimberly Raye

  “We are a small establishment, Ms. Farraday, and we have other customers besides you. Regular customers.”

  “I understand that, but I’m not getting timely deliveries and—”

  “Our own deliveries only come once a week and Ida Sinclair has already filed a formal complaint because she came in to buy a bottle of vanilla extract to make pinwheel cookies for the Senior Ladies’ Social and we were out.” He pinned her with a stare. “Because of you.” His mouth drew into a razor-sharp line. “The senior ladies need their cookies, Ms. Farraday. When they don’t get their cookies, they get cranky. When they get cranky, they get mean. When they get mean, they make life a living hell for their middle-aged sons who are forced to live at home because of ridiculous alimony payments to fund an ex-wife’s liposuction habit.”

  “I don’t mean to inconvenience anyone. I’m just trying to make do until my deliveries get straightened out.”

  He gave her a tight smile. “Let’s both be realistic. That could take a while. In the meantime, I have steady customers—customers who’ve been patronizing this store for years—who depend on the Food-o-rama. We’re the only grocery for sixty-eight-point-four miles.”

  “Sixty-eight-point-eight.”

  Surprise flickered in his gaze and she knew she’d impressed him. Not that he would admit it, she realized when he frowned again and told her, “I can’t very well disappoint and upset my steady, reliable customers simply because you’re in a fix.”

  Meaning she wasn’t one of the steady, reliable customers. She was an outsider. And she was SOL—shit out of luck.

  It wasn’t a total disaster, mind you, just an aggravation that made living in Romeo that much more difficult. She could pick up her standard baking supplies at any number of the grocery stores when she drove into Cherryville to send out her shipments. The special ingredients that made her desserts a hot commodity would be harder to come by. She doubted the Cherryville Piggly Wiggly carried yohimbe bark or damiana leaves. Only a good herbalist stocked those, and the closest Herbs Other Good Stuff sat over one hundred miles away in Austin.

  That meant a two-hour drive each way. Add shopping time to that and she would waste at least six hours. Which meant she would have to make up the lost kitchen time on Sunday.

  She’d worked Sundays before. Heck, she’d worked every Sunday for the past five years. But that was then and this was supposed to be now—the start of a new life in a new place with new priorities. She was building a home for herself and planting roots and a garden. She also had her grandmother’s things to finish packing away, and desserts to bake for the chamber’s upcoming bake sale, and she still had to figure out the infamous house special. She hadn’t found anything in her grandmother’s records, but the house special was legend in Romeo.

  An image rushed at her of a very hard, very naked Josh spread out on her bed, his hands and feet tied to the bedposts. He wore a blindfold and an expression of pure ecstasy as she trailed the tip of a leather whip over his hard six-pack.

  Then again, she might be the one tied to the bedposts while a very hard, very naked Josh trailed the tip of a leather whip from her breasts down to her—

  Her nipples tingled and she clenched her thighs together.

  She’d never been into bondage, be it as the dominator or the dominatee, but if the house special called for it, she would certainly be willing to try in the interest of research.

  If.

  She didn’t know. She hoped that the answer lay somewhere in the house, in one of her grandmother’s trunks or one of the specialty rooms, and she meant to find it before their last encounter.

  In the meantime, she did her best to lose herself in her work and forget that tonight was the night.

  She’d thought that scheduling their time together would help her keep her perspective about the whole thing and kill the anticipation. But it only heightened the sensation. By the time the afternoon rolled around and she finally climbed into her Navigator to head into town for the necessary ingredients for recipe five—Rose’s wildly popular Pineapple Upside Down Cake—her hands actually trembled and her heart pounded.

  Then again, maybe it wasn’t sexual anticipation, she decided when she stopped off at the small house that sat on the edge of town. Maybe her system was out of whack because of sheer stupidity.

  She’d never been one to go back for a second helping of humiliation. In the past, she hadn’t really cared if people had liked her. In fact, she’d wanted them not to like her. It made leaving that much easier.

  Not this time.

  She retrieved a boxed dessert from her backseat and started up the front walk. Dogs barked and a sports announcer’s voice carried through the screen door as she approached.

  “…at the first down and—holy moly, it’s a touchdown!”

  She knocked and pasted on her best smile when Old Duke Abernathy pushed open the screen door.

  “What’s this?” he asked when she handed him the box.

  “Just a little something for your son to say I’m sorry for the other day at the commerce meeting. I didn’t mean to sound pushy.”

  “Sorry, huh?” He lifted the lid and eyed the contents. “You ought to be, seein’ as how you badgered him and all, but I’m afraid my boy cain’t do dairy. It messes him up somethin’ awful. Everybody knows that.” He peered at her over his thick bifocals. “Where you from again?”

  “I’ve been living in Houston for the past five years.”

  He snorted. “Never did like those Astros much. I’ve always been a Texas Rangers fan, myself. Me and my boy.” He paused to glance behind him at the television and let loose a loud, crackling, “Interception, dammit. Interception!”

  “I’ll let you get back to the game. Sorry about the dairy situation. I’ll just take this back—”

  “Not so fast. Seein’ as how you went to all the trouble to bring this out here, the least I can do is put it to good use.”

  “Of course.” She smiled. “I hope you enjoy it.”

  “Not me. Dairy messes me up somethin’ awful, too. But Sassy and Frassy out back are sure to love it.”

  “Sassy and Frassy?”

  He grinned. “My hogs.”

  9

  THE SUN WAS just setting when Josh arrived at the Farraday Inn and found the recipe taped to Holly’s front door. No urgent kisses in the doorway. No frantic fumbling in the foyer. No heat burning them both up from the inside out. No Holly. Nothing but an index card with specific instructions.

  1. Go upstairs to dining room five.2. Remove all clothing.

  He pushed open the door, mounted the stairs for the second floor and walked down the hall to the designated room.

  A brocade rug covered most of the hardwood floor. Throw pillows filled every nook and cranny. Old-fashioned hurricane wall sconces hung from each of the four walls. The flames flickered, casting shadows on the gold-and-red wallpaper. A large red leather settee sat in the center of the room. A cherrywood sideboard held a large gold serving tray covered with chunks of pineapple and maraschino cherries. Rich brown sugar glaze filled a matching gold gravy boat. The ripe scent of fruit filled the air and flared his nostrils.

  Sinking down on the red leather, he tugged off his boots and socks, his ears alert for the sound of her footsteps.

  Nothing. Just the thunder of his own heart and a voice that told him he didn’t like this. Not one little bit.

  He pushed to his feet, gripped the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it up and over his head. Soft, worn cotton slithered over his skin and heightened the anticipation coiling in his stomach. His fingers went to the waistband of his jeans and he slid the button free. He grabbed the tab of his zipper only to hesitate. While he fully intended to comply with her instructions, he wasn’t doing it yet.

  Not without her.

  “You’re not naked.” Her soft, accusing voice drew him around. He turned to find her standing in the doorway. She wore a short black satin robe. Thigh-high black stockings hugged her shapely legs. Tiny red
bows decorated the top of each stocking and drew his attention to the pale slice of thigh visible between the stocking and the robe. The urge to touch the smooth expanse of bare skin nearly doubled him over.

  “Nice outfit.”

  “Thanks, but nice isn’t exactly the look I’m going for. I was trying for something a little more provocative.”

  She spoke as boldly as she had in the bathroom during the appeteasers, her gaze as hot and bright and needy. He found himself wondering if he’d just imagined the push-pull of emotion in her expression at the chamber of commerce meeting. As if she’d been fighting her attraction to him.

  She didn’t seem the least bit conflicted now.

  Strictly business.

  Her words echoed in his head and he stiffened, suddenly as annoyed as he was turned on.

  But then she stepped forward and touched him, and everything faded in the soft press of her fingertips against his bare stomach.

  “Let me help you with those.” She gripped his zipper and his breath caught. Metal hissed and the zipper eased and desire knotted in his gut.

  Josh had always been the one to take the lead and do the undressing. The looking was the best part, or so he’d always thought. Until that moment.

  Holly slipped her satiny fingers inside the elastic of his BVDs and tugged them down. Her fingertips grazed his skin and her gaze seared him, and he burned even hotter than if he’d been the one peeling the robe from her soft, pale body.

  She worked the clothing down his hips until his erection bobbed free. She stopped then, her attention fixed on his throbbing cock and a strange mix of emotion swirled inside him. Half of him wanted to haul her into his arms and kiss her tenderly while the other half wanted to bend her over and drive into her like a man possessed.

  He did neither. It was her recipe and she was the one doing the cooking.

  For now.

  She licked her lips and he could have sworn he felt the slick glide of her tongue on his throbbing cock. His breath hitched and his heart hammered and… Shit, he was hard.

  She tugged his jeans and underwear down to his ankles and he stepped free. Then she leaned back on her haunches and let her gaze take a slow trek up the length of his body. “I think we’re just about ready.”

  “I’ve been ready, cupcake.”

  She smiled. “No cupcake tonight. We’re having upside-down cake.” She motioned him to the settee as she pushed to her feet and retrieved the large serving tray.

  He stretched out and watched the gentle sway of her ass beneath the shiny black robe as she retrieved the large serving tray. She returned to the settee and sat in the spot where he’d left room for her. Placing the tray on the floor, she retrieved a chunk of pineapple. Before she could place it on his navel, he took her hand and guided her fingers into his mouth.

  The sweet taste exploded on his tongue and he groaned.

  Or maybe it was the way she retrieved a piece of pineapple and lifted it to her own mouth that made him groan. Her teeth sank into the fruit and juice slicked her lips and his stomach hollowed out.

  Either way, the sound echoed, followed by the sharp intake of his breath when she reached for the brown sugar syrup and dribbled it into his navel and lower, until she’d drenched his cock. The warm stickiness trickled down his balls and between his legs, and raw heat erupted inside of him.

  She leaned forward then and drew him into her mouth. She licked and suckled and devoured every drop of sauce, and it was all Josh could do not to explode right then and there.

  But he wanted to taste her the way she was tasting him and feel her vibrate against his lips. He wanted them in sync.

  As if Holly read his thoughts, she leaned away from him and reached for her robe. The slinky material parted and slid from her shoulders until she wore nothing but the thigh-high stockings.

  He reached out and touched her ripe nipple and relished the gasp that parted her lips. Before he could sit up and pull her to him, she pulled back and dipped her fingers into the brown sugar sauce.

  With her gaze locked with his, she circled her belly button before leaving a golden trail as she moved lower, spreading the sauce down her abdomen to her sex. She dipped her fingers between her lips and spread the sauce between her legs. Her breath caught and her chest hitched and he watched as she slipped a finger inside.

  It was the most erotic thing Josh had ever seen and hunger gripped him hard and fast, and he reached for her.

  He caught her waist and urged her around until her luscious bottom faced him. He gripped her thigh and lifted it over his body, pulling her up and over him until her thighs rested on either side of his head and the heart of her lingered near his mouth.

  At his first long, slow lick, Josh felt Holly shudder. The next lick was even slower, longer. Her arms and legs trembled. She seemed paralyzed for the next few moments as he savored her. But when he pressed his tongue into her soft folds and drew her clit into his mouth, a moan burst from her lips.

  She dipped her head then and drew him into her mouth. The more he sucked and licked, the longer and harder she loved him with her mouth until he felt her body stiffen and he knew she was close.

  He gripped her thighs and held her tight as he devoured her, until her essence exploded on his tongue. He followed her over the edge and she stayed with him until the very end, her sweet mouth loving him more thoroughly than any in his past.

  Or his future.

  Before Josh could think on the notion, Holly eased away from him and reached for her robe.

  “You know the way out,” she told him before she disappeared and he was left feeling as if he’d just been stood up.

  She didn’t stand you up, guy. She got you up, and then she let you down. Big difference.

  But as Josh pulled on his clothes, he didn’t feel any more satisfied than he had when he’d walked into the Farraday Inn. For the first time, he found himself doubting all the rumors he’d grown up hearing about the Farraday Inn.

  “Satisfaction guaranteed? My ass.”

  HOLLY DREW a deep breath and finished writing the last of her notes on tonight’s encounter.

  Her mouth watered for a bite of chocolate batter as she closed her spiral notebook and set it on her shelf next to her recipe books. Josh had left over a half hour ago and her body still hummed. Her heart hammered. Her blood rushed. Her thighs tingled. Ugh.It was not supposed to be this way.

  Sure, she could understand why she’d had a whopper of an orgasm their first night together. She’d been coming off a long dry spell and he’d been really hot and she’d been lonely and…well, he’d been really hot.

  But every dessert chef worth her whipped cream knew that the second bite was never quite as good as the first.

  Then again, tonight had been different. It wasn’t as if he’d actually been inside of her, and she’d exploded like a blender with the top off. Unlike their first time, they hadn’t actually had sex. Rather, they’d pushed the boundaries and livened up the foreplay in a way that had been fresh and exciting and extremely tasty. Anyone with a pulse and some taste buds would have been hard-pressed not to have a cataclysmic orgasm.

  Tomorrow night wouldn’t be nearly as mind-blowing. Recipe six was next on the list, and just reading it made Holly wince. She doubted even a humdrum orgasm would come of it. Even so, she was going to work herself up and set off a few Roman candles prior to his arrival so that she would be completely relaxed and sated and not the least bit horny. Then if she saw fireworks, she would know that her attraction to Josh went deeper than anything she’d ever felt before.

  Not that it mattered, mind you.

  She still wasn’t going to fall for him. He was temporary and she wasn’t.

  Never again.

  THERE WAS A naked man sitting in her kitchen.

  Holly blinked against the bright morning sunlight spilling through the kitchen curtains and focused on the large, muscular body seated at her kitchen table, his back to her.Her gaze finally focused and she drank in the tanned s
kin and round buttocks and long legs curled around the edge of the chair and…

  Ohmigod! There was a naked man sitting in her kitchen.

  Correction—a naked stranger.

  She couldn’t see his face, but she could see enough to know that he wasn’t anyone she knew, especially Josh. Blond hair curled down around his neck. His shoulders weren’t quite as broad, his arms not nearly as muscular. Even so, she had no doubt he could slide his hands around her neck and squeeze the life out of her if she didn’t do something right now.

  Run!

  She wanted to, but her keys to both the van and her Navigator sat on the opposite cabinet, which meant she would be running for several miles before she reached the nearest neighbor. The chances of him tackling her before she could get help were overwhelming, which meant she would have to fight him off.

  Her mind raced and she reached for the large mixing spoon that sat on a nearby cabinet. A spoon? What was she going to do? Stir him to death?

  Her fingers closed just shy of the spoon and she grabbed the small pastry torch she used to brown the coconut for her Venus Vanilla Mousse. It was heavy enough to clock him if she could get in a good swing before he happened to see—

  “They sent the wrong man.”

  Holly whirled at the sound of Sue’s voice and the torch fell from her suddenly limp fingers. Metal crashed against the hardwood floor. Her heart rammed into her rib cage and she whirled back to see him bolt to his feet and—

  He didn’t so much as budge.

  “He was waiting on the doorstep along with your stuff.” Sue walked around her toward the table. She wore her work apron, a reminder that Holly had slept right through her alarm. And the roar of Duke’s truck and the screech of his brakes.