Wild West Weekend

by C. R. Moss

  What occurred next happened in a blur. The song ended. Cassie dropped the microphone, crooked a finger at Dakota, then ran. At the same time Damon voiced the words “I-Want-You.” And Marianne screamed, “I knew he wanted me.”

  Bristol attempted to swallow what Marianne belted out in front of the entire audience, but in the midst of her actions the peroxide blonde pushed Bristol, knocking her to the side, then sprinted over the bench, bolting toward Damon.

  Shock hit Bristol with the intensity of a wasp sting.

  Embarrassed and mortified, she sprang up from her seat. Warm tears streamed down her face. Without considering assessing the situation, she turned quickly, and sprinted into the dark abyss lying beyond the light of the fire. Her heart had finally exploded. It was obvious, no man truly wanted her. No, she was just a stepping stone, a quick fix for what they really desired. Other men or hot blondes.

  Her legs pushed her faster and faster through the brush. Stray branches brushed against her jean clad legs. She propelled her body to move until she was deep into the dark labyrinth. Finally cleared of all civilization, she stopped. The moonlight, not obscured by any clouds, caught her attention, and she followed the light.

  How could she be so foolish as to think he’d want someone like her? His words were meant for another. Marianne. Tall, buxom blonde.

  Reaching a thin line of trees, she caught sight of a small pond, and ran toward the water finding refuge on one of the huge boulders sunken alongside the land. Leaning against the rock, she slid to the ground, covered her face with her hands. The wetness from her sadness covered her fingertips. You fool. Time to buck up. You don’t need any man.

  Chapter Six

  In all the commotion, it took a few minutes before Damon grabbed hold of Marianne and moved them to a spot away from the curious crowd. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Her lips twitched underneath the seductive smile pasted to her face. “Reciprocating.”

  “Are you crazy? How dare you talk to me like that in front of a guest?” He wished he could berate her for her actions and fire her, but that was his brother’s job. Instead, he tempered his breathing, stepped backward. “Marianne, we need to discuss what happened between us.”

  Her demeanor softened. “Exactly. I was hoping you’d want to talk about us. I’ve been waiting all week for the perfect time to speak with you.”

  No, no. There is no us.

  She crooked a ruby red nail against her lower lip. “I know we can’t tell anyone about our relationship, at least not yet. But, I was hoping we could sneak away tonight, have a repeat performance on the big boulder near Shimmer Pond.”

  What had he done? He’d realized the day after it happened that fucking her had been a mistake. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, or worse yet, have her believe that it meant more than it did. Thoughts of their union focused with too much clarity. He was so drunk and depressed over thoughts of the upcoming weekend, he led Marianne to believe he felt more for her then he did. How in the hell was he going to fix this? They had fucked like rabbits that night, and she let him do her every which way he could. And the next day, the booze still hadn’t worn off completely when he snuck her into the utility room off the kitchen, and she blew him.

  The memories of his actions were suddenly sickening him. Normally, he would never use a woman in such a manner. His parent’s had raised him better than that. He raked a hand through his hair, looked into the dark to try and gage his bearings.

  But, in his defense with the booze and constant thoughts of what Kristi and Sam had done to him a few years ago, he couldn’t help it. He felt he needed the rough, emotionless, non-committal sex, and it helped him get through the night and morning without hanging himself from the nearest tree.

  How could his fiancé have married his best friend? It had been three years since the incident, and he still couldn’t forget it completely. That’s why at this time of year he tried to escape to somewhere as far away, and as different as, Vegas could be.

  As if someone stabbed him, he placed a hand against his gut. Why did they betray him? But then, through the memories something extraordinary began to happen, the pain in his gut started to fade as images of Bristol Ashcombe fragmented his thoughts.

  She was getting to him. There was no doubt he was falling hard and fast for the petite fireball with the colorful, sparkly boots. Still thinking about Bristol, he turned to find Marianne patiently waiting for him. A confused, borderline hopeful glare set deep in her questioning gaze.

  “Listen, Marianne. I don’t want to hurt you, but there is no us.” His tone came across harsher than anticipated even though he tried to keep it level.

  She frowned. He wasn’t prepared for the hurt settling in her eyes. “So you used me,” she added, matter of fact. “How could you? I thought… I thought we had something special starting.”

  He prepared to respond, but she turned and ran.

  His life had officially turned into a living hell because now he knew he had to go and talk to Dakota about this, and his big brother wasn’t going to be happy. He hated being the younger brother, everyone thinking he was the immature, act-now-think-later-type, and damn if he didn’t always act the part.

  But first he had to find Bristol before she got lost, attacked by a coyote or worse yet, eaten by a mountain lion. And he had a funny feeling she would try to fight a lion if it attacked.

  Moving like greased lightning, Damon headed into the dark, reached the deep inner brush with ease under the light of the full moon and called for Bristol. “Darlin’? Bristol, where are you?”

  Coming toward the line of trees, he rounded the bend toward Shimmer Pond, catching sight of her petite body slumped against one of the boulders pocketing the shoreline.

  “Bristol,” he called.

  She tilted her head, shot him a perturbed look. “Go away.”

  Not on your life. Stepping across the patches of mud, he was by her side in seconds. “No.”

  “What do you want, Damon? Haven’t you embarrassed me enough for one evening?”

  The moonlight illuminated the beaten look on her face. He bent down until he was eye level to her, touched the patch of drying tears on her cheek. “Darlin’, isn’t it obvious by now, what I want?”

  “No.” Her beaten look morphed to an aggravated one. “Obviously not. What is up with you and Marianne? I don’t want to be in the line of fire of Marianne’s wrath.” She hesitated. A look of sympathy creased her face. “Nor do I want to be the other person. You know… the one who gets the brunt of the hurt. I’ve been on the receiving end of that scenario, and it hurts like hell Damon.”

  “I want you woman. Only you. I will fix the issue with Marianne. I’ve already started the process.”

  The frown on her lips softened. Incredulous, she placed her hands on her hip. “Perhaps you should inform Marianne of that fact, the fact that you think you want me.”

  He sighed, caging her against the boulder with his upper body. “I don’t think I want you, darlin’. I know want you.” The scent of Freesia wafted across his face. Damn, she smelled like heaven. How do I describe Marianne, rather my mistake, to her? Tell the woman the truth.

  “What happened between Marianne and I was a mistake. It was one drunken night and morning and nothing more. I can’t change what happened. God knows I want to. I was drunk, depressed, and basically damned horny. Perhaps I should have taken care of the last part myself, but my hand was getting tired of being the other person. I didn’t think the situation through like I should have.”

  Understanding dawned in her glassy eyes. He could’ve sworn a smirk played at the edges of her mouth. The woman wanted to laugh at him.

  He could lose himself in her total being, if she’d let him. An ache for her, like nothing he could’ve ever imagined started in his stomach, clenching every nerve in his body until he felt like if he didn’t pull her into his arms the sheer power of his desire for her would squash him.

  “Are you drunk now?” sh
e asked.

  Folding her arms across her chest, she silently assessed him. She looked so sexy with the mud caking her jeans, and a little splatter crossing her chest, staining her red t-shirt, that all he could think about was stripping her bare. Soon. “No, I’m not drunk, darlin’.”

  “How about depressed,” she pressed.

  “No to that question, too.”

  Hesitation hung in the air. She bit her upper lip for a split second, shrugged then whispered, “Horny?”

  Suddenly, his jeans felt two sizes too small. “Why? Are you?”

  “No. I mean are you?” She tripped over her words. And it was unfathomably sexy, no, awesome.

  He realized her denying she wanted him wasn’t an option anymore. Her body language forbade it, and her big blue eyes held a hunger for him that sent sparks shooting through his body. But it was late. As much as he hated to do it, he’d leave her alone for the night. But the remainder of the weekend, watch out. Rested and refreshed, he’d be ready to make her his. “You know what? I think we should table this discussion until tomorrow. I know I’ve had a long day. So have you with your flight and all.” He reached out and stroked her cheek. “How about I try to be a gentleman and just walk you back to your cabin for now?”

  “Okay.” She yawned. “That actually seems like a good idea.”

  * * * *

  Reaching the cabin, they said their goodnights, and Bristol opened the door, sliding into the darkness inside with another yawn. She was glad they opted out of doing anything further or intimate together.

  Why didn’t I leave a light on? She placed her fingers on the light switch and flicked. Spotty light illuminated the cabin. When her gaze focused on the small table under the light switch, a scream sounded.

  Within seconds, she realized it was her own.

  Moments later, during mid-scream, the front door flung open, and a flushed, wide-eyed Damon barreled inside. “What’s wrong?”

  Unable to speak, form coherent words, Bristol whimpered like a wounded animal, her gaze pinned to the slithering reptile coiled up on the table. Her mind told her to calm down, but her body refused to obey. The shaking started in her legs, then capsized the rest of her body. Her breathing accelerated, and stark fear like none she’d known coiled around her muscles and tightened with each passing moment. What the fu—

  Damon’s surprised gaze hit the white python. His face contorted into a beaming smile. “Roscoe. I’ll be damned, buddy. I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Figured you’d find the cabin of a lovely lady to occupy. You stud you. What did I tell you about sneakin’ out of your cage, you little devil.”

  Lovingly, he reached out and stroked the monstrous snake. “You know buddy, I don’t think my little Bristol would take too kindly to you wrappin’ around her body during sleep.”

  Bristol choked back a breath, still frozen from speech. As the use of her vocal chords healed, the amusement in his eyes made her stiffen. “You think it’s funny that—that deadly snake almost ate me?”

  “Ate you? A little dramatic aren’t we? Oh wait. Drama is in your blood. Silly woman, Roscoe wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s a sweetheart.”

  “You’re definitely crazy. That is a snake. A—a—snake. And it’s in my room.”

  He swung out an arm and Roscoe slithered up and twined around Damon’s neck, then popped his head into the neckline of his denim shirt.

  “Oh God, that is so gross.” She closed her eyes, cupped her cheeks. Her reaction must have humored him because he couldn’t stop laughing long enough to speak. When he finally did, she wanted to drop kick him out the front door, with his deadly reptile.

  “I’m going to take my pet and go home. He’s offended that you screamed at him.” He clipped her with a serious gaze. “I’ll be back to pick you up for the camping trip by seven. And for future reference, dear lady of drama, the only one eating you during this vacation will be me.”

  “Fine. I’ll, b—”, she stopped mid-sentence. “What?”

  The smirk remained glued to his face. He stroked the top of the python’s head and walked toward the front door. Even with the reptile wrapped around his arm, he was the hottest man she’d ever seen. The scent of grain and leather lingered in the air. Shards of warmth traveled through her body, dampening the area between her legs.

  “I said I’ll be back to pick you up at seven tomorrow morning.” He gazed at his watch. “Looks like that’s gonna be in a few hours. Get some shut-eye, city girl.”

  It had been years since a man affected her this way, not since John. Her ex was a gentleman in every sense of the word. Smooth, handsome, debonair. But, when she found him in bed with another, something inside of her died that day. At least she’d assumed it had. And now, this, whatever this was between them, brought desire, want, and need back to life. But for her, pain always followed happiness.

  Should I risk it and go for Damon?

  Damon stopped at the door, slyly turned to address her, first letting his penetrating gaze roll up then down her body. A look of concern shadowed his expression. He shook his head very slowly, as if in deep wonder. “Oh boy, I hope Candy isn’t here, too.”

  “Candy? Candy who?”

  A devil-be-damned grin lit up his face. “My pet tarantula. She likes to roam the grounds too.” He bounded out the door. She gasped moments later.

  “Oh my God! You’re insane.” She lunged toward the door, caught the side frame in her hand. “Seriously, Damon, are there other pets that belong to you in my cabin? I’m really not an exotic kind of pet person.”

  He stopped on the bottom step of the porch. A low rumble of laughter filled the night air. “Huh. Gotcha, pretty lady.”

  “Huh, huh. Guess the joke’s on me.” She was still laughing when she closed the door behind her and leaned against it.

  God, even with the death snake he was gorgeous. Closing her eyes, she imagined his lips rubbing against hers, his hands caressing her back, moving to her butt. The need traveling through her body sent her nipples to attention. Her panties moistened. As if someone had given her the Heimlich maneuver her eyes flung open, and she gasped. I’m in serious trouble.

  She hurried readying herself for bed so fantasies of Damon could grace her sooner. Images of him naked, wearing nothing but cowboy boots. And a rope…

  In a strange turn of events, she looked forward to seeing him tomorrow, and the upcoming itinerary remaining for the weekend. Excited about the possibilities, she pulled the piece of paper that Marianne gave her earlier from her purse and glanced at the writing. Camping, horseback riding, shooting. Then there was the bachelorette party. Even after she’d sworn off men, she wanted to be near him again.

  There was only one critter she wanted him to bring on the camping trip. Since it was attached to his body, it shouldn’t be too hard of a request for him to grant.

  Chapter Seven

  “Rise and shine sweetheart,” Damon screamed as loud as he could between pounding on the wooden frame of the door and glancing into the white chiffon curtained windows. He told her to be ready by seven. Obviously she still slept. Why else would she leave him standing out here yelling like a lunatic? She was going to be the death of him. Ah… but in such a good way.

  He sighed, pounded on the door again. A thought pinched him. He could always break in. Probably wasn’t a good idea, but it was an idea. The only one he had at the moment. So with his mind made up, he reached into his pocket and grabbed the master keys, flipping through the bunch until he found the one marked Cabin 21-NH. Forgetting the obvious implications that come from breaking into a guest’s cabin, he opened the door and let himself inside.

  A quick scan of the area justified his assumptions. Sleeping Beauty still slumbers.

  The spitfire actress lay sound asleep on the top bunk with a copper pot secure against her chest, powered flashlight at her chin. Without wanting to wake her, he tiptoed toward the beds. One look at her sleeping body sent pulsating desire through his veins. Beautiful did not describe her, not even
gorgeous. Angelic, sexy, unstoppable? Yep, those were better.

  Her dark raven-colored curls strewn perfectly against the pillow. Enticing full lips made his desire to kiss them even more prolific. He moved forward a step, steadied himself against the bunk ladder, and mentally began to undress the figure of the sleeping woman.

  “Damon?” She yawned. “Damon? Is that you? Correction, it better be you.”

  Her questioning voice snapped him from his reverie. Just in time, since his jeans were beginning to strangle his family jewels. He re-arranged himself to relieve the pressure. Only a minor fix, but it did the trick for the moment.

  “Yes, it’s me, darlin’. You didn’t answer the door so I let myself in.” He swallowed against the desire taking hold of his limbs. He wanted to climb up onto the bunk and straddle her body, feel the warmth of her skin underneath him, preferably naked, but clothed would suffice if need be.

  “What time is it?” She pushed the copper pot to the side, stretched her arms over her head.

  “It’s time for us to get to the campsite where the classes are held.” He gripped the side of the ladder as she slipped her bare, sexy leg out from underneath the white sheet. She was killing him. The lust moved through his body like an inferno. He was about to commit another act that was probably going to get him bitch slapped, but he didn’t care. Don’t do it…

  She sat up and the sheet fluttered to her waist revealing a light pink cotton chemise with some sort of drawing on it. Her nipples pushed through the flimsy material. A primal urge took precedence within him. Automatically, his mouth filled with saliva. His deep desire to ravage her took center stage, and all he wanted to do was suck her tits till she screamed out in ecstasy. Fill her pussy with his tongue until her salty moisture coated the inside of his mouth. Pump his cock so far inside her, that she’d scream his name over and over again. Maybe tie her to his bed, wine, dine, and love her, the remainder of the weekend.