Too Hot to Handle

by Chanta Rand

  Jewell mimicked his technique and her stone followed the same pattern. She gasped in surprise. “Hey, I did it!”

  Mason smiled. “We’re gonna have to work on your form. You do everything so proper-like. You even skip rocks proper.”

  “No, I don’t!”

  “I bet when you were born and the doctor smacked your behind, you said, ‘Pardon me, it’s not polite to smack people!’” He held up his pinky finger for emphasis.

  Jewell laughed. “Oh, that was low. What did you do? Jump out feet first and say, ‘Where’s my boots and my spittoon?’”

  Mason chuckled. “Nope. I demanded my own cigar right then and there.”

  She smiled back. “Yeah! That I can believe.”

  He stared at her silhouette. Damn, she sure was sexy. He liked her subtle combination of femininity and toughness. She stood there holding her high heeled sandals delicately in her hands. The smooth slopes of her shoulders caught the light from the moon. The night breeze carried her soft scent. He didn’t know why he was so affected by her. He knew it was wrong to feel so attracted to this woman, but he couldn’t help himself. She had made him re-think the possibilities of his life. Like seeing himself through new eyes.

  The night was quiet except for the nocturnal sounds of crickets chirping and frogs croaking. “So quiet,” Jewell observed. “You would think we’re the only humans out here.”

  “We are. My daddy and Austin are in Dallas signing some contracts.”

  She nodded. “Andy is sleeping over at a friend’s house.”

  Their eyes locked and Mason noticed her visibly shiver beneath his intense gaze. She rubbed her bare arms in response. “It’s getting chilly out here,” he said. “Let’s grab a blanket from the barn.”

  ********

  Mason was full of surprises. Jewell followed him to the barn where he produced a colorful wool blanket for her. She’d expected a musty old horse blanket, but it was a clean, cordless electric blanket. And the spacious barn was more like an office. Amongst the hooks, hay, and riding mowers, there were individual offices and a small kitchenette complete with a refrigerator, a microwave and a coffee maker.

  “Where are all the horses?” she asked.

  Mason smiled. “You’re thinking of the stables. You really gotta get up to speed on your ranch knowledge. Do I need to give you a cowgirl makeover?”

  Jewell grinned. “Sure. Why not?”

  They sat side-by-side on a big bale of hay, and Jewell listened as Mason explained the ins and outs of ranch living. His voice was rich, deep and soothing, washing over her like warm brandy. Mason was incredibly charming when he chose to be. She watched his full lips move as he spoke. Occasionally, he would reward her with a grin and she caught a flash of his pearly whites. He was so handsome he nearly took her breath away. She thought she would have gotten used to those brooding, dark eyes and tantalizing muscles by now. But each time she saw him, her heart fluttered rebelliously inside her chest. Her palms got clammy. Her lips went dry. The patch between her thighs throbbed unmercifully. After twenty minutes, she realized she was so busy fantasizing, she hadn’t heard a word he said.

  “So, I met your brother and your father,” she interjected. “Tell me about your mom.”

  A look of nostalgia registered on his face. “She passed when I was seventeen. Cancer.”

  “Oh, Mason, I’m sorry to hear that.” She put her hand on his, intending to comfort him.

  “It’s all good. I’m sure she’s watching me from Heaven. She’s proud of me, bad manners and all.”

  His remark surprised her. She never figured Mason for the religious type.

  “What about your folks?” he asked her. “They still living?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s been forever since I’ve seen them. I have fond memories of my father. But he left when I was around ten years old. I don’t think he could take much more of my mother.”

  “Why not?”

  Jewell took a deep breath. She didn’t discuss her past with many people. But Mason was easy to talk to. He also seemed like someone who wouldn’t judge her. “She drank too much, cursed too much, and smacked her kids around too much. As soon as I graduated from high school, I left home. So you see, my background is not so proper and perfect after all.”

  He brought her hands to his lips and tenderly kissed all ten fingers. “I wish I’da been there. I woulda protected you and nobody would have dared to mess with you.”

  His words touched her deeply. She would have loved for him to be there protecting her. To hold her in his warm embrace. She gazed into his dark eyes, focusing on that pretty gray ring of his pupils. For the hundredth time, she was mesmerized by his long, sweeping lashes and his dark, thick brows. She remembered how intimidating he seemed to her the first day she saw him. Now, she knew there were so many facets to him. He had the ability to irritate the hell out of her but then make her desire him all in one breath. She’d always thought she wanted a man groomed to perfection. But she was learning the concept of opposites attract.

  As if pulled by some irresistible force, they both leaned in and hungrily sought each other’s lips. She was still holding firm to the memory of their first kiss, and this one was just as delicious. She loved the self-assuredness of his stroke. He didn’t ask for permission. He didn’t start off slow, then build up. He stormed in, taking control, demanding her surrender. And she loved it. Suddenly, she wanted his hands everywhere. Their groping was urgent. Their movements were frantic, almost desperate.

  She tried to commit every gesture to memory so she could recall it later and savor it.

  She was breathless.

  He was panting.

  The heat of his touch melted her inner core. His hot mouth branded her lips, then her neck, trailing kisses down the column of her throat. His teeth nipped her skin as he suckled and pulled, putting his stamps of passion all over her neck and breasts.

  She ripped his shirt open; buttons went flying.

  Her tongue flicked across the flat nipples of his muscular chest.

  His loud moans made her feel powerful. A rush of fluid shot straight to the nest of curls between her thighs. She reveled in her new-found dominance.

  When she tugged at the waistband of his trousers, his hard erection sprang forth from the confines of his underwear, bucking in her hand. She heard his deep intake of breath when she held the warm flesh between her fingers. She stroked the huge muscle and was rewarded with more guttural moans.

  More power.

  This man was feeding her sex drive and her ego.

  No sooner than she’d convinced herself she was the one in control, he turned the tables, yanking the zipper of her dress, peeling the material from her body.

  She was naked.

  The chilly air made her nipples pucker.

  Mason’s rough hands cupped her breasts and rubbed the nipples, tweaking the hard buds between his thumbs and big fingertips.

  “Oh God. Don’t stop.” She heard her own voice beg. And Mason listened, burying his face against her breasts and mercilessly licking the taut nipples until they hardened like pebbles in his hot mouth. Then he started tenderly biting and rolling them between his teeth.

  Honey poured from her.

  Hot and sticky.

  Mason dragged her along the length of his hard body, sinking with her to the ground so she lay beneath him. He came up on one knee and pulled a condom from his back pocket. She watched as he expertly sheathed himself. There was no preamble. No teasing. No holding back. He plunged in, rough and wild, driving his penis to the hilt. She cried out, her body shocked by the contact, but begging for more. She grasped the sinewy cords of his buttocks, encouraging him.

  Faster.

  Deeper.

  Harder.

  He deepened his stroke, filling her with his huge length. She gasped each time he pushed forward, sending shivers of ecstasy through her. She writhed wildly beneath him and clasped her legs around his back. She felt her tight walls ebbing agains
t him, then stretching, opening up to grant him unrestricted access. It had been so long since she’d enjoyed the company of a man. Mason knew how to stroke her. He was aggressive, wild, and demanding. And he knew what the hell he was doing. It was so good it almost brought her to tears. She wanted to be dominated, to be controlled, but she couldn’t totally give in. She had to feel that power trip again.

  She pushed against him, rolling over and sitting astride him. She gave herself a minute to adjust then she began riding him, moving to a wickedly erotic rhythm.

  She heard his harsh intake of breath. “Jewell, Jewell,” his hoarse voice panted. “What are you doing to me?”

  “Still think I’m proper?” she taunted him.

  He looked up at her; his eyes widened, then narrowed. His big hands clasped both of her hips. “I think you’re fucking me properly,” he gritted through his teeth.

  Any other time, she would have been offended, but right now, his rough language turned her on.

  He took over then, lifting her up and down along the long length of his hard penis. White hot sparks of pleasure shot though her. Seconds later, her orgasm erupted like a sleeping volcano. Liquid lava spilled from inside her, down her thighs as she cried out. “Mason!”

  His release followed abruptly, violently shaking her to her core. The loud, guttural sound he made lingered like an echo in the barn. His body shuddered and then stopped.

  Jewell collapsed on top of his chest. The soft, fuzzy hair there was damp with sweat. She felt Mason’s thunderous heartbeat in tune with hers. He softly kissed her forehead, nose, and cheeks. “Thank you, Jewell,” he whispered softly. “Thank you for giving me so much pleasure.”

  He held her his embrace, covering their bodies with the wool blanket.

  Within minutes, he’d fallen asleep. Jewell lay there quietly listening to Mason’s contented breathing. She should be content as well. But the enormity of what she’d just done hit her like a breaking news bulletin on CNN. And what did she really know about Mason Kincaid? Yes, he was sweet and caring and amazing in bed. But for all she knew, he could be just like any other man. He could be a dog. Or worse yet, sowing his wild oats before the wedding. And she had conveniently fallen into his trap.

  She didn’t know what to think. It would be easy to blame Portia for this. If only that woman hadn’t hired her. But the sad reality was she had no one to blame but herself. For the first time in decades, she’d found a man she was truly interested in, and next week, he’d be someone else’s husband.

  She sighed. Okay girl. You’ve made your bed. Now, you have to sleep in it – alone.

  Sometime in the middle of the night, she awoke to Mason’s soft snoring. She quietly dressed and found her shoes. She needed time to think. Tonight, everything had changed. She’d crossed the line. Worse yet, she was doing something she’d never thought she’d ever do – she was falling hard for Mason Kincaid.

  SEVEN

  Jewell languished between the satin sheets of her wrought-iron, canopy bed. Years ago, she’d had it custom-made by an ironworks artist. The sheer, white curtains seductively draped from the black iron making her feel like a princess protected in a fortress. And last night, she’d lived a real-life fairy tale sharing a few precious moments with Mason. She rolled over onto her stomach and felt the warmth of the sun streaming through the window to warm her cheeks. Her body was still tender from their lovemaking. She smiled thinking about his erotic assault. She could still feel his calloused hands on her bare skin. Still see his passion marks branding her skin. Still smell his rugged mix of sandalwood and soap in her nostrils. Still taste his delectable tongue against hers. Mason was the type of man who consumed a woman’s senses. You’d have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to notice his animal magnetism. And the way he kissed her tenderly afterward as she lay in his arms had been a heavenly surprise.

  Mason’s lovemaking was like him – rough and rugged but leaving her fully satisfied. She was by no means a virgin, but she’d never experienced sex like that. It was the most scintillating event ever. His body was hard and toned, no doubt from years of hard work outside on his ranch. She felt safe and protected in his arms. He was a man’s man. He not only had the right equipment – he knew how to use it! She’d never imagined giving herself to any man who fit Mason’s mold, but she had to admit he had her practically begging for more.

  She curled up, holding her knees close to her chest. Her body reacted even now, just thinking of him. The place between her legs started throbbing, swelling with need. She wished he were here to wake her up properly. He claimed her the way a wild stallion would stalk a mare. She liked the way he took charge, talked dirty to her, and dominated her. Thank God he’d had a condom. It had been so long since her last sexual encounter, she didn’t even think about birth control or diseases for that matter. She was just happy the brotha came prepared!

  She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Was it too early to call him? Lord, help me. I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t help myself. There was only one person she wanted to talk to. She rolled over and looked for her cell phone. Just as she reached for it, it rattled to life, damn near scaring her to death. Her heart played leapfrog in her chest. She didn’t recognize the number on the caller ID, but she answered anyway. It might be a potential client.

  “Jewell Davenport,” she answered.

  “Mason called off the wedding.”

  “What did you say?”

  “You heard me,” Portia’s voice raised an octave. “Mason called off our wedding.”

  The game of leapfrog continued in Jewell’s chest. “Why would he do that?”

  “Don’t ask why, you home wrecking hussy. You know why!”

  “Excuse me?” The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention.

  “When I hired you, I never thought you’d end up stealing my man.”

  If Jack Frost was looking for an assistant, Portia would have the job. Ice dripped from her every word. “Portia, what the hell are you talking about?”

  “Don’t play stupid with me, you conniving bitch. You are very educated, Jewell. But you weren’t smart enough to stay away from my man. And you’re definitely not smart enough to keep from getting caught. I’ve got pictures of you, dammit!”

  Indignation blossomed in Jewell’s chest. “You’ve been following me?”

  “Not you, stupid. Mason! Do you think I’d let him go around unescorted? I’ve had a P.I. trailing him for years. I thought you’d be different, but you were the worst of all.”

  “You’re sick, Portia.”

  “No, what’s sick is how a woman like you just threw her business away for a piece of dick. And guess what, sweetheart? You aren’t the first dalliance he’s had. You think a man like Mason Kincaid goes to bed lonely? You’re just one of many in his stable.”

  Jewell flinched at Portia’s words. Did Mason really have a stable of women? She wanted to believe she meant more to him, but maybe she didn’t. Maybe she was just a plaything for him to pass the time. She hung her head. She couldn’t believe she’d been so foolish. And now, Portia knew all about her indiscretion.

  Jewell said the only thing she could think of – the truth. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this.”

  “Not as sorry as you’re going to be if you don’t stay the hell away from him,” Portia threatened. “I’m not paying you to sleep with my fiancé.”

  Jewell had no answer for that. Portia was right. She’d not only crossed the line, she’d doubled back for seconds.

  “How do you think everyone would feel if word got out about you, Jewell? You would be ruined. Your business would be ruined.”

  Jewell wasn’t sure how that made her feel. She’d been thinking about leaving the business for some time now. But she wanted to leave on her own terms. She didn’t want to be pushed out by some vindictive society bitch. “Portia, you don’t have to worry about me and Mason. I won’t ever see him again.”

  “You’d better not,” she hissed. “If you do, I�
�ll be on your ass like a hemorrhoid. And you can forget about Andy going to Julliard.”

  Jewell sat upright. “Now, wait a minute. He has nothing to do with this. You can’t punish him because of something I did.”

  “Oh can’t I? You should have thought about that before you spread your legs for my man.”

  “You can’t do this, Portia. We had a deal. Despite what happened between Mason and me, I prepared him for the wedding as I said I would. I honored my end of the bargain.”

  “Don’t you talk to me about honor!” Portia screeched. “You wouldn’t know honor if it walked up to you and spit in your face. As far as I’m concerned, you’re no better than a convict, going around stealing people’s men. I guess it runs in the family. Are you trying to follow in your big sister’s footsteps?”

  Jewell gasped.

  “Yes, I know about Cameron. You should be in there with her for what you did to me. In fact, both of you whores should be six feet under the prison.”

  Okay, she was taking this a little too far. “Look Portia, you’ve already made your demands. I told you I would stay away from Mason. What the hell else do you want from me?”

  “I want you to convince him to marry me.”

  “What? Hold on. I --”

  “Do it Jewell! You tell him he’d better marry me. If you don’t, I will destroy you. I’ll tell the world about your felonious roots. I’ll make sure Andy never gets within a ten mile radius of Julliard. And I’ll see to it that the only job you get will be scraping gum off the sidewalks at the Kemah Boardwalk. You have two days,” she ordered. “You’d better get started.”

  Jewell fumed as Portia hung up the phone in her face.

  I’ve fucked with the wrong prima donna. Portia is out for my blood.

  She cast the covers off and sprang into action. Portia was right about one thing: She only had two days to turn this nightmare back into a fairytale. The sooner she got started, the better.