Her Cowboy Stud

by Randi Alexander

  Looking up into his handsome face, she opened her mouth but shut it again. Did she dare tell him why she blushed around him? She settled on about half the truth. “It’s different when it’s business.” The whole truth was, she’d never been this nervous or flustered with anyone since middle school. It was just him. She’d had a crush on him since that day on the airplane with Silas. Now, after their last few minutes in the barn, she was experiencing an uncontainable sexual reaction. No, she couldn’t say anything to him, but she’d let her actions speak for her. There would be a lot of action tonight.

  With his mouth curved into a lopsided grin, he asked, “Do you have any samples in there?” He wagged his brows.

  Of course, heat crept up her neck and onto her face. How much did she dare show him? How dark did he enjoy his bedroom adventures?

  She reached in and grabbed her high-heeled sandals then chose a purple bag with a single “X” embroidered on it. Her starter kit.

  Trace leaned in and hooked a finger on the bag, tugging it open. “What's in here?”

  She eased the bag away from him, behind her back, and impulsively lifted up on tiptoes to brush a kiss on his lips. “We’ll see.” She'd assess how the basics went, and if she sensed he wanted more, she'd haul in her big sample case. The one marked, “XXX.”

  He closed the trunk and his face sobered. “C’mon, beautiful.” Turning them hip to hip, his arm around her back, he led her up the steps onto the porch. He murmured in her ear, “I need to have you in my bed.”

  A delectable heat started at her nipples and bloomed through her bloodstream, centering in her core, turning off her brain cells one at a time as sensory pleasure flooded her.

  “There you are!” a female voice called. “I’d given you up for lost.” A tall, middle-aged woman pushed through the screen door carrying a purse. “You must be Ms. Veralta. I’m JaniceLynn. We spoke on the phone yesterday?”

  Macy’s brain slogged, nearly unresponsive with lust. She managed to hold out her hand and shake the housekeeper’s. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Please, call me Macy.”

  “You’re quite a cute one, Macy.” Her quick glance took in everything, including the sexy sandals and purple tote bag she held. “Just his type.”

  Before Trace could say a word, JaniceLynn brushed past them. She jogged down the stairs, calling over her shoulder, “I’ve got to run. I kept supper warm in the oven for you two. Don’t let it get dried out, now.” She stopped and turned. “Oh, your lawyer dropped off a new set of papers. He said he had Ms. Veralta’s name spelled wrong on the first ones.”

  “Papers?” Macy asked him.

  Trace pulled open the screen door and gestured for her to go in ahead of him. “It can wait.”

  As she stepped into the foyer, she asked, “Pedigree papers for Spinning Wheel?”

  Trace eased the screen door closed, not meeting her gaze. He took her purse, tote bag, and sandals and set them on the hall bench. Removing his hat, he hung it on a coat rack next to the door. “It can wait.” He leaned closer and slid his hands over her shoulders.

  Something in his behavior was just not right. “Hold on,” she said, forcing herself back from the edge of seduction, taking a step back out of his grasp. “I want to know about these papers first.”

  He rubbed his scruff. “I mentioned I’d be making you an offer.” His voice came out hesitant.

  “Okay.” Her stomach jumped with worry.

  He met her gaze. “I want to buy Spinnin’ Wheel.”

  “Oh.” She blinked a couple times. His business demeanor poured a bucket of cold water over her desire. She hadn’t thought about not owning the horse. “I’d like to keep him,” she blurted. Her decision was just gut instinct. She’d never had a dog or a cat. Even though a horse wasn’t usually considered a pet, she still liked knowing he belonged to her.

  He made that frustrated face again. He walked to the table and picked up a stapled stack of papers. Flipping through them, he stopped at a page and handed the stack to her. “Here’s what I’m offering.”

  She took the document and found the number. Very large number. It didn’t make sense. “If he’s old, how can you recover this much?”

  Trace crossed his arms, his face as serious as midnight. “How much do you want?”

  Macy shook her head. “I don’t understand. Why don’t you want me to have him?” Oh, God. That kiss in the barn. Had that been to soften her up to sell?

  “You’re not here for the horse, are you, Macy? Admit it. You’re here for the money.”

  “What?” Shock gave way to anger. “What have I done to make you think that?”

  He shrugged. “Young girl, sweet talks rich old rancher, goes after his rich nephew.” He laughed, a bitter sound. “Somethin’ out of a bad movie.”

  For a minute, she could only breathe. Rage burned up her neck and into her cheeks. How dare he? Her hands fisted, crumpling the paper. If she were a man, she’d slug the bastard.

  His brows rose as he watched her turn into a human pressure cooker.

  Keeping her voice even, she said, “A few things wrong with your plot, Mr. McGonagall. If I was looking for a rich husband, why wouldn’t I have just come here to meet you right after I met Silas?”

  His brows drew together. “Maybe you had this planned. Waitin’ until after he was gone.”

  “But,” she said, blinking back frustrated tears. “How would I have talked him into leaving me a horse?”

  “How do I know what went on during that plane ride?” He uncrossed his arms and took a step toward her. “Did the two of you concoct this together? You seduce the rich nephew, maybe hook him into marriage? If not, you still own a valuable horse. Payment for your trouble.”

  She took a step closer. They stood a mere foot apart and she had to look up into his angry eyes. Well…she was angry, too. What the hell was wrong with him? He pronounced judgment on her based on circumstantial evidence. Disappointment made her stomach roil.

  “I can understand why you might distrust me. But your uncle? He loved you. He’d never do anything like that to you.”

  Some of the steam went out of Trace. He looked away.

  She wasn’t finished, though. “I don’t need your money. I came here because I…” God. She’d come here to meet Trace. To see if he could possibly be as amazing as his uncle said he was. Instead, she stood toe to toe with him, having a good old-fashioned dust up.

  She held out her hand. He jumped as if she was going to punch him. As if her little hand would do any damage. “Pen.”

  He walked into the kitchen. She followed, barely noticing the country feel of the big room.

  Handing her the pen, he smirked, “That was easy.”

  She slapped the documents onto the table. “It sure was. You didn’t even have to take me to bed to get me to sign.”

  “Now, wait—”

  She jabbed her finger into his chest. “You thought you could just kiss me and bed me, and I’d sign this contract without even reading it.”

  “That’s not what this is.” He was fired up again. “What happened in the barn—”

  “Don’t deny it, Trace. You used my fascination with you to get what you wanted.” A sob choked her, and she turned away. Her ‘fascination’ with him. Months of dreaming and daydreaming, all leading up to that kiss in the barn. What a fool.

  “Macy. Listen to me. These are two separate things.” He heaved out a sigh. “I want to buy Spinnin’ Wheel for a high price because he comes with all his frozen semen, too. I expect to make double that amount off him, but you don’t have to carry the overhead, and I do.”

  That explained the large sum. “Why try to seduce me to get me to sign?” Her voice choked out too quietly. Her own pity party in full swing inside her head.

  “I didn’t.” His hand fisted. “What happened in the barn, and what’s going to happen now…” His eyes darkened. “It’s pure chemistry. We can finish this business and still have tonight.”

  She stared at him. H
e thought she’d still sleep with him? With him believing she only came here for the money? Stupid-ass cowboy. She looked down at the papers.

  Stupid-ass Macy. She'd half expected this. Silas had warned her that Trace was not a trusting man. That it would take a lot for her to gain his confidence.

  “Where do I sign?” She had to get out of here before she started bawling.

  He flipped a page and pointed to a line.

  She signed then flipped back to the dollar amount. She crossed it out with three strong lines and initialed it.

  He leaned over her. “You’re changing the amount?”

  “Uh huh.” She turned so he couldn’t see the paper. Above the old amount she put a dollar sign, a one, a decimal point, and two zeros. Her little “fuck you” to Trace.

  “What did you write? We have to agree on this…”

  She slapped the paper between her hand and his chest. “Here you go, cowboy. You just mail me a check and we’ll be all square.” Turning, she felt the burn of tears at the backs of her eyes. She had to hang tough for just a few more minutes.

  She picked up her things and walked out the screen door, letting it slam behind her.

  Chapter Four

  Through the screen door, Trace watched her walk away. Damn. He hadn’t handled that very well. She opened her car door and got in.

  Actually, he’d made a total mess of it. But he’d been right. She came here after the money.

  She started her engine and backed up in a big arc, pointing her car down the driveway.

  “Shit.” He wished he’d been wrong. Strange that Silas hadn’t seen through her. His uncle was a damn good judge of character. How had he been fooled by this one? She seemed so genuine to Trace, but he didn't have his uncle's people skills. Evidently so, since he'd just sent the sexiest woman ever he'd met running for her life.

  Macy shifted, but didn’t leave. Her head dropped into her hands, she just sat there.

  “What the hell?”

  Something was not right. She should be laughing all the way to the bank. He flipped the pages of the contract until he found her scratch off. One dollar? “Fuck.” His brain couldn’t get a hold of it. “One dollar?”

  “Aw, shit!” He ran out the door.

  She dabbed at her face with a tissue, and jerked when she noticed him barreling toward her.

  He ran faster. He had to make this right.

  She shifted the car, hit neutral, and raced the engine a couple times before she looked down at the shifter.

  He made it to the front of her car. “Put it in park,” he yelled.

  She rolled down her window. “Get out of my way or I’ll run you over.”

  “You do, and you’ll never get your goddamn dollar!”

  She froze.

  “Please. Shift into park and talk to me.”

  “You’ve said enough. You judged me and sentenced me and hung me before you even knew me.”

  “I did, and I’m sorry.” What the hell could he do? Fire right back. “But you judged me, too.”

  “What?”

  “You thought I wanted you in my bed to get my hands on the horse.”

  “It worked.” She inched the car forward.

  He slammed his hands on the hood. “I wanted you for who you are, Macy. I didn’t care if you were a gold digger, or just passin’ through looking for a good time with a cowboy. I…” Shit, here it came. “I felt something for you. I still do. And this contract,” He tore it in half, tore those pieces in half, then tossed the whole fucking thing into the dirt. “I don’t want your horse. I just wanted you to get what you wanted.”

  She shook her head. “I’m confused. You’re not making sense.”

  “I thought you wanted money. And once you got it, I figured you’d bolt. Unless. I could make you see how good we’d be together.”

  “But, how could you think of sleeping with a gold digger?”

  Tired of shouting over the car engine, he walked around to her window. “I keep people at a distance. I don’t trust easily. An arrangement with you—even if you were here just for money—would have been normal for me.”

  He opened her door and sat on his heels. “But now I see that it can be more.”

  She shifted into park and turned off the engine. “I’m still confused.” A tear ran down her cheek.

  “Come inside.” He held out his hand. “Let me feed you.”

  “Mmm. Whatever JaniceLynn has in the oven smelled great.” Her voice sounded shaky.

  After a moment’s hesitation, she put her hand in his and he helped her out. Pulled her into his arms. “Can we start over?”

  A watery chuckle escaped her lips. “Should I trip and fall against the car again?”

  He laughed, the ache in his heart easing. “Let’s start over from here.” He took her head in his hands and kissed her, gently, just a brush of lips and a touch of their tongues. He pulled back and hooked an arm around her.

  He stopped and stepped back. “Wait a second.” Opening the passenger door, Trace retrieved the purple “X” bag, and grinned at her. “We're going to need this.” They walked up the porch steps, but he stopped before opening the screen door. It didn’t feel finished yet.

  “What is it?”

  He wanted to make her whole again. He bent his head to look her in the eye. “When I talk about my past. Recent past. I need you to know…” He sucked in a deep breath. “I haven’t had a woman here in years. I haven’t found anyone I wanted here.”

  Macy blinked back the sting of emotion threatening to well up in her eyes. His admission, given so honestly, warmed her deep inside, cocooning her heart with his unforgettable words.

  She rested her hands on his chest, and admitted, “It’s been a while for me too, Trace. I’ve had a few first dates in the last couple years, but with trying to get this business going, and my travel schedule, it just wasn’t worth it.”

  “Aw, darlin’.” He cupped his palms on each side of her head. “Why would you need a man when you’ve got a trunk full of substitutes?”

  A startled laugh escaped her, and she wrapped her arms around his middle. Silas had told her Trace was an amazing man. Solid of spirit, was his uncle’s description of him, but as funny they came. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.”

  He hugged her tight for a minute. Against her chest his heart beat as wildly as hers. Reaching down, Trace eased an arm under her knees and lifted her into his arms. “Wait until you get a taste of my lovin’, sweetheart. You’ll be hooked.”

  She rested her head on his chest and admitted more to herself than to him, “I think I’m already hooked.” Being held in his arms tingled like magic, and her body reacted, filling and warming, flooding her needy pussy with a sweet ache.

  He opened the screen door and deftly carried her in. He strode down a hallway and into a big bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them. A gigantic bed dominated the room, done up in moss green with a few gray and green throw pillows tossed on as an afterthought—the housekeeper’s doing, probably. Trace didn’t seem like the accessorizing kind of guy.

  Big, clunky dark wood furniture stood around the room. A beautiful old rug nearly covered the entire hardwood floor, and a lamp in the corner cast a subtle glow over the room.

  She took a deep breath, smelling the scent of man and musky cologne. “This bedroom is so masculine.”

  “Just like me?” He set her on her feet.

  “Exactly like you.” She ran her fingers through his hair, loving how the soft locks curled around her skin, tickling her. She tugged him down for a kiss.

  He groaned as he slanted his lips over hers and made love to her with his mouth. His tongue touched everywhere, slow and thorough. His hands slid to the tie of her halter top, and he eased it free, standing back to watch as he revealed her breasts.

  “Beautiful.” He stared for a moment before bending her backward over his arm, one hand at her neck to steady her, suckling first one nipple then the other. He laved them with his tongue,
teasing them with sensual flicks.

  The sucking and nibbling of his hot, talented mouth on her breasts drove her mad. A quaking desire filled her as her core contracted, and moisture slid from her needy lips.

  Lifting the hem of her halter top, he eased it off over her head and tossed it onto a chair.

  “My turn.” Macy unbuttoned his shirt, taking her time, enjoying each inch of skin she revealed. She slid it off his shoulders and let it drop. “Oh, wow.” His arms were defined, his chest sculpted and furred by a light scattering of dark hair, his flat stomach showed a hint of muscle developed by hard work, not zealous sit-ups. Lower, his narrow hipbones showed above his low-slung jeans.

  Her need to touch him consumed her.

  “Touch me,” he drawled, as if reading her mind.

  Macy ran her fingers over his torso. She wanted him, wanted his chest pressed to her breasts, wanted his big arms around her. First, she wanted to see what hid beneath those tight fitting jeans.

  At the instant she reached for his belt buckle, his fingers closed on the button of her capris. They both grinned and worked in tandem, removing his boots and socks, her flip flops and pants, and his jeans. They stood in their underwear, hers lacy and white, his black and stretched to the limit by his big, long cock.

  He stared at her, a long, slow appraisal, making her skin quiver wherever his gaze touched. When he reached for her, she melted into his arms as his hands roamed across her back. He pressed his lips gently to her neck. His tongue darted out for a taste. “Aw, God.” His voice rumbled low in her ear.

  His hand eased from her back to the side of her breast. His thumb traced a path around her nipple, brushing over it.

  She sighed and shuddered as heat streaked from her nipple down to her slit.

  His cock jerked against her belly. She abandoned any insecurity she felt and pressed her hand to the bulge in his underwear. His rod throbbed in her palm, and she licked her lips with the need to feel him in her mouth, pushing in deep, taking him down her throat as she swallowed his long shaft and sucked him dry.

  “Darlin’.” He lifted her gently in his arms and carried her to the bed, laying her on the comforter. “I want to taste you. Everywhere.” His words came slow and full of promise. His half-lidded eyes turned nearly black with lust as he looked his fill of her body, not touching her, taunting her with expectation.