by Maisey Yates
So sometimes her judgment was in doubt. Sometimes she felt like an idiot. But she was much more equipped to deal with difficult situations now. She was a lot pricklier. A lot more inured.
And that was what came to her defense now.
“Sam, if you still want me, all you have to do is say it. Don’t you stand there growling because you’re hard and sexually frustrated and we both agreed that it would only be that one weekend. Just be a man and admit it.”
“Are you sure you should be talking to me like that here? Anyone can catch us. If I backed you up against that wall and kissed your smart mouth, then people would know. Doesn’t it make you feel dirty? Doesn’t it make you feel ashamed?” His words lashed at her, made her feel all of those things but also aroused her. She had no idea what was wrong with her. Except that maybe part of it was that she simply didn’t know how to feel desire without feeling ashamed. Another gift from her one and only love affair.
“You’re the one that’s saying all of this. Not me,” she said, keeping her voice steely. She lifted a shoulder. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you have issues. I don’t want to help you work those out.” A sudden rush of heat took over, a reckless thought that she had no business having, that she really should work to get a handle on. But she didn’t.
She took a deep breath. “I don’t have any desire to help you with your issues, but if you’re horny, I can help you with that.”
“What the hell?”
“You heard me,” she said, crossing her arms and giving him her toughest air. “If you want me, then have me.”
* * *
Sam could hardly believe what he was hearing. Yet again, Madison West was propositioning him. And this time, he was pissed off. Because he wasn’t a dog that she could bring to heel whenever she wanted to. He wasn’t the kind of man who could be manipulated.
Even worse, he wanted her. He wanted to say yes. And he wasn’t sure he could spite his dick to soothe his pride.
“You can’t just come in here and start playing games with me,” he said. “I’m not a dog that you can call whenever you want me to come.”
He let the double meaning of that statement sit between them. “That isn’t what I’m doing,” she said, her tone waspish.
“Then what are you doing, Madison? We agreed that it would be one weekend. And then you come in here sniping at me, and suddenly you’re propositioning me. I gave in to all of this when you asked the first time, because I’m a man. And I’m not going to say no in a situation like the one we were in. But I’m also not the kind of man you can manipulate.”
Color rose high in her cheeks. “I’m not trying to manipulate you. Why is it that men are always accusing me of that?”
“Because no man likes to be turned on and then left waiting,” he returned.
The color in her cheeks darkened, and then she turned on one boot heel and walked quickly away from him.
He moved after her, reaching out and grabbing hold of her arm, stopping her. “What? Now you’re going to go?”
“I can’t do this. I can’t do this if you’re going to wrap all of it up in accusations and shame. I’ve been there. I’ve done it, Sam, and I’m not doing it again. Trust me. I’ve been accused of a lot of things. I’ve had my fill of it. So, great, you don’t want to be manipulated. I don’t want to be the one that has to leave this affair feeling guilty.”
Sam frowned. “That’s not what I meant.”
She was the one who was being unreasonable, blowing hot and cold on him. How was it that he had been the one to be made to feel guilty? He didn’t like that. He didn’t like feeling anything but irritation and desire for her. He certainly didn’t want to feel any guilt.
He didn’t want to feel any damn thing.
“Well, what did you mean? Am I a tease, Sam? Is that what I am? And men like you just can’t help themselves?”
He took a step back. “No,” he said. “But you do have to make a decision. Either you want this, or you don’t.”
“Or?”
“Or nothing,” he said, his tone hard. “If you don’t want it, you don’t want it. I’m not going to coerce you into anything. But I don’t do the hot-and-cold thing.”
Of course, he didn’t really do any kind of thing anymore. But this, this back and forth, reminded him too much of his interaction with Elizabeth. Actually, all of it reminded him a little bit too much of Elizabeth. This seemingly soft, sweet woman with a bit of an edge. Someone who was high-class and a little bit luxurious. Who felt like a break from his life on the ranch. His life of rough work and solitude.
But after too much back and forth, it had ended. And he didn’t speak to her for months. Until he had gotten a call that he needed to go to the hospital.
He gritted his teeth, looking at Madison. He couldn’t imagine anything with Madison ending quite that way, not simply because he refused to ever lose his control the way he had done with Elizabeth, but also because he couldn’t imagine Maddy slinking off in silence. She might go hot and cold, but she would never do it quietly.
“Twelve days. There are twelve days until Christmas. That’s what I want. Twelve days to get myself on the naughty list. So to speak.” She leveled her blue gaze with his. “If you don’t want to oblige me, I’m sure Christopher will. But I would much rather it be you.”
“Why?” He might want this, but he would be damned if he would make it easy for her. Mostly because he wanted to make it a little harder on himself.
“Because I planned to go up to that cabin and have sex with Christopher. I had to, like, come up with a plan. A series of tactical maneuvers that would help me make the decision to get it over with after all that time. You,” she said, gesturing at him, “you, I didn’t plan to have anything happen with. Ever. But I couldn’t stop myself. I think at the end of the day it’s much better to carry on a sex-only affair with a man that you can’t control yourself with. Like right now. I was not going to proposition you today, Sam. I promise. Not today, not ever again. In fact, I’m mad at you, so it should be really easy for me to walk away. But I don’t want to. I want you. I want you even if it’s a terrible idea.”
He looked around, then took her arm again, dragging her into one of the empty stalls, where they would be out of sight if anyone walked into the barn. Then he pressed her against the wall, gripping her chin and taking her mouth in a deep, searing kiss. She whimpered, arching against him, grabbing hold of his shoulders and widening her stance so that he could press his hardened length against where she was soft and sensitive, ready for him already.
He slid his hand down her back, not caring that the hard wall bit into his knuckles as he grabbed hold of her rear, barely covered by those riding pants, which ought to have been illegal.
She whimpered, wiggling against him, obviously trying to get some satisfaction for the ache inside her. He knew that she felt it, because he felt the same way. He wrenched his mouth away from hers. “Dammit,” he said, “I have to get back to work.”
“Do you really?” She looked up at him, her expression so desperate it was nearly comical. Except he felt too desperate to laugh.
“Yes,” he said.
“Well, since my family owns the property, I feel like I can give you permission to—”
He held up a hand. “I’m going to stop you right there. Nobody gives me permission to do anything. If I didn’t want to finish the day’s work, I wouldn’t. I don’t need the money. That’s not why I do this. It’s my reputation. My pride. I’m contracted to do it, and I will do what I promised I would. But when the contract is up? I won’t.”
“Oh,” she said. “I didn’t realize that.”
“Everything is going well with the art business.” At least, it would if he could think of something else to do. He supposed he could always do more animals and cowboys. People never got tired of that. They had been his most popular art installa
tions so far.
“Great. That’s great. Maybe you could...not press yourself up against me? Because I’m going to do something really stupid in a minute.”
He did not comply with her request; instead, he kept her there, held up against the wall. “What’s that?”
She frowned. “Something I shouldn’t do in a public place.”
“You’re not exactly enticing me to let you go.” His body was so hard he was pretty sure he was going to turn to stone.
“I’ll bite you.”
“Still not enticed.”
“Are you telling me that you want to get bitten?”
He rolled his hips forward, let her feel exactly what she was doing to him. “Biting can be all part of the fun.”
“I have some things to learn,” she said, her blue eyes widening.
“I’m happy to teach them to you,” he said, wavering on whether or not he would finish what they’d started here. “Where should I meet you tonight?”
“Here,” she said, the word rushed.
“Are you sure? I live on the same property as Chase, but in different houses. We are close, but not that close.”
“No, I have my own place here too. And there’s always a lot of cars. It won’t look weird. I just don’t want anyone to see me...” She looked away from him. “I don’t want to advertise.”
“That’s fine.” It suited him to keep everyone in the dark too. He didn’t want the kind of attention that would come with being associated with Madison West. Already, the attention that he got for the various art projects he did, for the different displays around town, was a little much for him.
It was an impossible situation for him, as always. He wanted things that seemed destined to require more of himself than he wanted to give. Things that seemed to need him to reach deep, when it was better if he never did. Yet he seemed to choose them. Women like Madison. A career like art.
Someday he would examine that. Not today.
“Okay,” she said, “come over after it’s dark.”
“This is like a covert operation.”
“Is that a problem?”
It really wasn’t. It was hypocritical of him to pretend otherwise. Hell, his last relationship—the one with Elizabeth—had been conducted almost entirely in secrecy because he had been going out of town to see her. That had been her choice, because she knew her association with him would be an issue for her family.
And, as he already established, he didn’t really want anyone to know about this thing with Maddy either. Still, sneaking around felt contrary to his nature too. In general, he didn’t really care what people thought about him. Or about his decisions.
You’re a liar.
He gritted his teeth. Everything with Elizabeth was its own exception. There was no point talking to anyone about it. No point getting into that terrible thing he had been a part of. The terrible thing he had caused.
“Not a problem,” he said. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“I can cook,” she said as he turned to walk out of the stall.
“You don’t have to. I can grab something on my way.”
“No, I would rather we had dinner.”
He frowned. “Maddy,” he began, “this isn’t going to be a relationship. It can’t be.”
“I know,” she said, looking up and away from him, swallowing hard. “But I need for it to be something a little more than just sex too. I just... Look, obviously you know that somebody that hasn’t had a sexual partner in the past ten years has some baggage. I do. Shocking, I know, because I seem like a bastion of mental health. But I just don’t like the feeling. I really don’t.”
His chest tightened. Part of him was tempted to ask her exactly what had happened. Why she had been celibate for so long. But then, if they began to trade stories about their pasts, she might want to know something about his. And he wasn’t getting into that. Not now, not ever.
“Is there anything you don’t like?”
“No,” he said, “I’m easy. I thought you said you didn’t cook?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “Okay, if I’m being completely honest, I have a set of frozen meals in my freezer that my parents’ housekeeper makes for me. But I can heat up a double portion so we can eat together.”
He shook his head. “Okay.”
“I have pot roast, meat loaf and roast chicken.”
“I’ll tell you what. The only thing I want is to have your body for dessert. I’ll let you go ahead and plan dinner.”
“Pot roast it is,” she said, her voice a borderline squeak.
He chuckled, turning and walking away from her, something shifting in his chest. He didn’t know how she managed to do that. Make him feel heavier one moment, then lighter the next. It was dangerous. That’s what it was. And if he had a brain in his head, he would walk away from her and never look back.
Sadly, his ability to think with his brain had long since ceased to function.
Even if it was a stupid idea, and he was fairly certain it was, he was going to come to Madison’s house tonight, and he was going to have her in about every way he could think of.
He fixed his mouth into a grim line and set about finishing his work. But while he kept his face completely stoic, inside he felt anticipation for the first time in longer than he could remember.
Six
Maddy wondered if seductresses typically wore pearls. Probably pearls and nothing else. Maybe pearls and lace. Probably not high-waisted pencil skirts and cropped sweaters. But warming pot roast for Sam had put her in the mind-set of a 1950s housewife, and she had decided to go ahead and embrace the theme.
She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror in the hall of her little house and she laughed at herself. She was wearing red lipstick, her blond hair pulled back into a bun. She rolled her eyes, then stuck out her tongue. Then continued on into the kitchen, her high heels clicking on the tile.
At least underneath the sweater, she had on a piece of pretty hot lingerie, if she said so herself. She knew Sam was big on the idea that seduction couldn’t be planned, but Maddy did like to have a plan. It helped her feel more in control, and when it came to Sam, she had never felt more out of control.
She sighed, reaching up into the cupboard and taking out a bottle of wine that she had picked up at Grassroots Winery that afternoon. She might not be the best cook, or any kind of cook at all, but she knew how to pick a good wine. Everyone had their strengths.
The strange thing was she kind of enjoyed feeling out of control with Sam, but it also made her feel cautious. Protective. When she had met David, she had dived into the affair headlong. She hadn’t thought at all. She had led entirely with her heart, and in the end, she had gotten her heart broken. More than that, the aftermath had shattered her entire world. She had lost friends; she had lost her standing within a community that had become dear to her... Everything.
“But you aren’t seventeen. And Sam isn’t a married douche bag.” She spoke the words fiercely into the silence of the kitchen, buoyed by the reality of them.
She could lose a little bit of control with Sam. Even within that, there would be all of her years, her wisdom—such as it was—and her experience. She was never going to be the girl she had been. That was a good thing. She would never be able to be hurt like that, not again. She simply didn’t possess the emotional capacity.
She had emerged Teflon coated. Everything slid off now.
There was a knock on her front door and she straightened, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in her stomach. That reminded her a bit too much of the past. Feeling all fluttery and breathless just because she was going to see the man she was fixated on. That felt a little too much like emotion.
No. It wasn’t emotion. It was just anticipation. She was old enough now to tell the difference between the tw
o things.
She went quickly to the door, suddenly feeling a little bit ridiculous as she pulled it open. When it was too late for her to do anything about it. Her feeling of ridiculousness only increased when she saw Sam standing there, wearing his typical black cowboy hat, tight T-shirt and well-fitted jeans. Of course, he didn’t need to wear anything different to be hotter to her.
A cowboy hat would do it every time.
“Hi,” she said, taking a step back and gesturing with her hand. “Come in.”
He obliged, walking over the threshold and looking around the space. For some reason, she found herself looking at it through his eyes. Wondering what kinds of conclusions he would draw about the neat, spare environment.
She had lived out in the little guesthouse ever since she was nineteen. Needing a little bit of distance from her family but never exactly leaving. For the first time, that seemed a little bit weird to her. It had always just been her life. She worked on the ranch, so there didn’t seem to be any point in leaving it.
Now she tried to imagine explaining it to someone else—to Sam—and she wondered if it was weird.
“My mother’s interior decorator did the place,” she said. “Except for the yellow and red.” She had added little pops of color through throw pillows, vases and art on the wall. But otherwise the surroundings were predominantly white.
“Great,” he said, clearly not interested at all.
It had felt weird, thinking about him judging her based on the space, thinking about him judging her circumstances. But it was even weirder to see that he wasn’t even curious.
She supposed that was de rigueur for physical affairs. And that was what this was.
“Dinner is almost ready,” she said, reminding them both of the nonphysical part of the evening. Now she felt ridiculous for suggesting that too. But the idea of meeting him in secret had reminded her way too much of David. Somehow, adding pot roast had seemed to make the whole thing aboveboard.