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Spank ’em Cowboy
Copyright © 2012 by Samantha Cayto
ISBN: 978-1-61333-395-2
Cover art by Nicole Austin
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC
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Naughty Sleepover Stories
Sugar Girl by Nicole Austin
Say Yes by Regina Carlysle
Spank ’em Cowboy by Samantha Cayto
More Than You Know by Cerise DeLand
Overnight Sensation by Desiree Holt
Blame it on Texas by Allie Standifer
When a Lady Meets a King by Brenna Zinn
Also by Samantha Cayto
My Booty Call Valentine
Spank ’em Cowboy
Naughty Sleepover
By
Samantha Cayto
~DEDICATION~
To Nicole Austin and the oh so sexy covers she creates.
Chapter One
“I give them five years, tops,” Tara murmured into the other bridesmaid’s ear as they watched the bride and groom cut the cake.
Keri choked on her mouthful of champagne and turned to her, wide-eyed. “Don’t say such a thing! She’s your sister and my dear friend. I think they make the perfect couple,” she added primly before cheering with the rest of the room.
With a shrug, she downed the last of her own glass and slipped away. She should have kept her mouth shut. Before the reception ended, Keri, of the slim figure and big mouth, would probably repeat her awful prediction to the other bridesmaids. Eventually word would spread to her sister, Gina, and of course, to she-who-must-be-obeyed, AKA Mom. Her ears began to throb at the very thought of the tongue lashing she’d have to endure. Oh well, the damage was done.
She’d smiled through months of wedding plans, dress fittings, and parties. Hadn’t complained when she’d been stuffed into a strapless, shantung silk dress that draped beautifully on all of Gina’s willowy friends, but clung precariously to her ample form by virtue of Spanx, two-sided dress tape, and the grace of God. Every intake of breath threatened the integrity of the fabric and every exhalation felt as if a python squeezed the life out of her. Her gasps for air were drowned out by the agonized screams of her feet as she tottered around on four-inch spike heels. By her estimation, she had done an admirable job of playing along up to that point. Something was bound to give.
Maybe the chocolate wine cascading out of a fountain by the door caused the verbal lapse. The stuff packed an unexpected punch. She had drunk two glasses before it rushed to her head. Now, hot and cranky and in desperate need of air and water, she needed refuge.
With a compulsive tug at her bodice, she minced out of the room. As soon as she cleared the doors, cooler air hit her face. Leaning against the wall, she closed her eyes and smiled with relief.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Are you okay?”
She started a bit and straightened, surprised by deep drawl close to her ear and stared into bright blue eyes wide with concern. A cowboy—at least she assumed that’s what he was. The hotel crawled with them because of some kind of rodeo in the area. Only no ordinary cowboy stood before her. Sure, he wore a fitted, white button down shirt with a bolo tie, jeans and cowboy boots. Just about every guy who wasn’t in the hotel for the wedding reception dressed similarly.
This man simply wore it all a whole lot better.
He had a long and lean body, the word rangy came to mind. His limbs could easily wrap around her and take her for a ride. Saliva pooled in her dry mouth at the admirable way the worn material of his pants molded his impressive package.
Her heat index shot up another few degrees as her gaze flitted over the view. His dark blond hair hung a little shaggy, but a neatly trimmed mustache and goatee framed his mouth. Normally facial hair turned her off. On this man it was perfect, and she wondered if it would tickle the inside of her thighs. The guy pretty much advertised sex in a Stetson, although he wasn’t wearing or carrying one.
He still regarded her with concern though. He had asked her a question, hadn’t he? “Ma’am?”
Okay, he definitely waited for an answer. Damned if she could think straight. Choco-wine, vice-like clothing and instant arousal all conspired to stop the blood from reaching her brain. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“I’m Tara,” she breathed and held out her hand like a moron.
Rob blinked a couple of times, confused by the non-sequitur. Then he decided to go with the flow since he had the attention of the finest woman he had seen all week and no wedding ring framed her finger. He took her soft, smooth hand in a gentle clasp. “My name’s Robert, or Rob, if you like.” Given that she still appeared a little pale and how her rapid, shallow breaths bounced her ample cleavage, he didn’t let go right away. “You look like you could use a place to sit down.”
His cock hardened until it felt like his pants had shrunk at her expression of pure pleasure.
“Yes, I’d love that, and a glass of water, too.”
Glancing into the function room, he saw people doing the Electric Slide. As she had just come out of there, he figured she wasn’t inclined to go back in. “How about the bar?” He gestured the way with his head.
With her tongue, she moistened her plump lips painted pink to match her dress. “Sounds good, but you don’t have to worry about me. I can go by myself.” Her gaze dropped, and he followed it, realizing he hadn’t let her hand go yet. “I mean, you must have been on your way to meet someone or something.”
“No, ma’am,” he replied in a voice thick with the desire building inside him. Holy Mother, this Yankee woman had him slavering like the coyote after the road runner. “I’ve got nothing to keep me from escorting you. It will be my pleasure.” He hooked her hand around his arm to emphasize his point.
She smiled shyly up at him and turned toward the bar. They hadn’t gone two steps before she pulled him up short. “Wait,” she groaned. “I have to get these suckers off.” Steadying herself on his arm, she yanked first one ankle-busting shoe off then the other. She gave an orgasmic-sounding groan. “So much better. Sorry to be so déclassé as to go shoeless, but my feet are killing me.”
Without the spiky shoes, she dropped down to below his shoulder. She wasn’t so much short as he was tall, and it gave him a great vantage point. The lush swell of her plump breasts threatened to spill out of her flimsy dress. A pretty enough dress, but the wrong style for a woman as voluptuous as she. Hell if he cared. It allowed a man a glimpse of what he’d find if he were lucky enough to unwrap the package. He already pictured clasping a soft mound in his hand and slipping a large nipple past his lips.
Unfortunately, half the yahoos in the bar caught sight of her when they en
tered and stopped their conversations to stare in appreciation. Her steps slowed and she dropped her gaze again. Her already reddened cheeks darkened under the attention. Obviously embarrassed, she probably thought the men were judging her harshly for not being model thin. He knew better. Men, especially Texas men, wanted a luscious body to hold on to, not skin and bones. Theirs were looks of appreciation and desire, not condemnation. It got his hackles up as if she were already his to claim. He burned a glare around the room as a warning even as his lovely companion stopped again.
“It’s too full. There’s nowhere to sit.” She glanced over her shoulder with a frown. “I should go back to the reception.” But her tone told him she’d really rather not.
“Don’t worry. I see a seat at the end of the bar.” Tugging her gently forward, he steered her across the room. He stopped at the last chair lined up in front of the long wooden counter. A large, bald man occupied it. “Hey, Roy, lady needs a seat.”
Roy turned to him with a confused expression that morphed into a grin. “Well, hey, Rob. Ma’am.” He nodded toward her and slid off the bar chair, grabbing his beer at the same time.
“Oh, no, please don’t get up for me,” she protested.
“It’s my pleasure, ma’am,” he replied with a sincere smile. “I need to join some friends anyway.”
“If you’re sure then, thank you.”
He winked conspiratorially at Rob and left. She released his arm and wiggled her way onto the chair. He tried not to stare at her curvy hips and thighs as she yanked her dress up enough to allow her to sit. It was impossible to ignore all that sumptuous flesh of course, and his mind briefly played out a fantasy in which he hiked the flimsy material up to her waist, spread her legs and sank his cock inside her. The image sucker punched him. A harsh breath exploded from his lips.
She sighed. “This is much better! Thank you for your help. It’s so sweet of you.”
Sweet? Yeah, sure if picturing her legs wrapped around his waist while he drilled her was sweet. He leaned on the end of the bar and looked her dead in the eye.
“Pardon my language, darlin’, but you’re gonna piss me off if you keep acting like my being here is some selfless act of mercy as opposed to the pleasure it is.” Her lovely lips parted in an O which only served to conjure a new vision of her wrapping them around his raging hard-on. Before he could summon something else to say that wouldn’t make her slap his face or run screaming from the room, they were interrupted by the bartender who came to take their order.
Tara tore her gaze from Rob. “I’ll have a soda water with lime, please.”
“Jack on the rocks.” Her rescuer didn’t break his concentration on her while he gave his order.
Holy Christ, the look on the man’s face made her believe him when he’d said he wanted to be with her as opposed to feeling sorry for her. It’s not that she believed herself to be unattractive. She was in between boyfriends at the moment, but hardly a virgin. Plenty of guys had found her ample figure appealing, although they’d always been guys who could stand to lose a few pounds, too. Unused to being hit on by a man who could crook his finger at any of Gina’s skinny friends and have them come running, this experience disconcerted her.
She put what she hoped was a sexy smile on her face and sat back in the chair. “Fair enough. Maybe I’m surprised you didn’t make the obvious joke about my name.” She meant to be sultry, yet sounded as if she were recovering from strep throat instead.
“What joke?” He arched a brow.
“Most guys hitting on me say Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay after they hear my name.”
He grinned. “You mean as in the Can-can dance song? This old bar has been around long enough to have seen something like that. I have to admit I’d love a chance to see more of your bodacious body, but I can’t say I’d like to share that view with the rest of the crowd.”
Before she could respond to the provocative statement, the bartender returned with their drinks. She snatched hers and took a few healthy swallows. The coldness did little to squelch the fire building inside her. She watched Rob sip his bourbon. He gave her a smoldering look over the rim of his glass. Her clit throbbed at the promise his eyes held.
“God,” she breathed. “Keep that up and I’m going to forget my own name entirely.”
“Sweetheart, that’s the whole idea,” Leaning forward, he tucked a tendril of her damp hair back behind her ear. “Feeling better?”
Tara stifled a moan. Even that brief touch sent a tingle down her spine. “Yes, unless you mean do I feel cooler because I definitely still feel overheated.” She swallowed more water and lowered her eyelids. “Funny thing is I don’t mind being hot anymore.”
He took a big swig of his drink and swallowed hard. “I confess I’m getting a might heated myself. I’m afraid if we stay here, I’m going to have an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction.”
His words confused her until she followed his gaze downward to the bulge in his faded denim pants. The outline of his cock was clear to see if one cared to look, and she did. It didn’t take much imagination to visualize the hard length thrusting into her. Her pussy clenched at the notion. Her breath quickened once more, straining the seams of her dress. They were both at risk of popping out of their clothes if they weren’t careful.
She finished the seltzer and set the glass carefully on the counter. Her usual style didn’t include picking up guys in bars or even in hotel hallways. Technically he had approached her, but the point still stood. Her choices seemed to be returning to the misery of the reception or inviting this strange, yet desirable and interested man, back to her room.
Gina and her mother would be apoplectic if they knew she even considered such a thing. Knowing how they would react shouldn’t matter. That it did matter didn’t change how much she wanted the man. Her normal mode of behavior was careful and sensible. Her typical style of dress was sensible, too, yet there she sat, busting out of a strapless gown. To hell with it. Maybe being in Texas meant doing the unusual.
Holding out her hand for help, she slid off the bar stool and up against Rob’s hard body. “Would you like to come up to my room?” She barely recognized the husky voice as her own.
He peered down at her with heavy-lidded eyes. A slow smile spread across his handsome face. “And here I worried I’d have to sweet talk you into joining me in mine.” He tossed money onto the bar before circling his arm around her waist. Plucking the shoes she still clutched out of her hand, he said, “I’ll take those. For the rest of the evening, you leave everything up to me, sweetheart.”
Tara melted against his side and let him lead her out of the bar and toward the elevators. As they waited for the doors to open, a burst of nerves hit her. She inhaled hard. “I must confess I’m nervous. I don’t usually do this with guys I met only minutes ago.”
He placed a chaste kiss on the top of her head. “You may not believe this, but I don’t usually pick up women on business trips. I’m here to sell steers at the rodeo. And, while it’s true we only met a short time ago, I’ll own up to seeing you earlier in the evening and admiring you from afar. It wasn’t purely coincidence that I happened upon you when you left the room because I had been trying to maneuver my way into standing next to you.”
The doors to the elevator slid open and they stepped inside. Tara pressed the button to her floor and tipped her head up to look at Rob. “Seriously?”
He frowned down at her. “Why do you find that hard to believe?” Before she could reply, he continued. “Your dark hair, pale skin, and curves that make that dress tight in enticing ways can heat a man’s blood even from across a room.” He bent down to whisper even though they were alone. “My cock struck midnight at the sight of you.”
He licked the outer shell of her ear. A deep, longing-filled shudder wracked her.
The elevator stopped, the doors opened and he tugged her out. Keeping his head against hers, he said, “It’s throbbing in anticipation of sinking into your lush body.”
Chapt
er Two
Rob forced himself to takes his hands off Tara to give her some room to get her key. He needed to slow down and play it cool. He wasn’t a player like other salesmen he knew, but he had seduced enough women to know, that while a woman appreciated being desired, she didn’t want to feel like a conquest. And, although he expected nothing more than an evening of hot and heavy fun, he had told the truth about singling her out in particular because he desired her. He didn’t think she was lonely or desperate; she made his blood sing.
Okay, now a chorus of Hallelujahs raced through his veins as she demurely hiked up one side of her dress to reveal a lacy black garter. Tucked inside was the electronic card to unlock her room. She slid it out and eyed him coyly. “It’s the best way to carry the damn thing.”
He managed to spit out of his suddenly dry mouth, “Very practical.”
He followed behind her as she unlocked the door and stepped in. Closing the door behind them, he turned to her. She stood only a few feet away, her large eyes wide with questions and nervousness. They were definitely her best feature, dominating a pretty face. She undoubtedly thought herself too plump and plain in comparison to the stunningly thin bride he had glimpsed at the reception, but he didn’t think so. A man making love to her, as he intended to do shortly, could lose himself in her luscious curves.
She must have found his staring at her unnerving because she walked away. Tossing her card on the nearby low bureau, she shrugged. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
Touched by her shyness, he placed her shoes on the floor and reached for her with slow movements. He pulled her into his arms. “Don’t worry. I know what to do. Your only job is to tell me if you like what I’m doing or not.”
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