Do Him Right

by Cerise DeLand

  She would cry out in delight, his words freeing her of how she’d hurt him. You forgive me, she’d whisper in wonder and curl into his powerful, hot body after their climax.

  His green eyes became glass now, and he frowned. “Forgive you? Why should I?”

  Jolted, Shana glanced around at the dilapidated room. She wasn’t in her bed with him, but here in his office. From the looks of him, he appeared shaken and wary of her while he wore an indifferent mask of a cool businessman.

  “Forgive me…” She tried to repair her blunder, pushing back regret that her fantasy was wishful thinking. Ducking her head, searching inside her briefcase, she fumbled and found her papers. “Forgive me for bringing only one copy of the proposal.”

  “That’s okay,” he said, pursing his lips and scowling down at the open folder on his desk. “Where shall we begin, Miz Carpenter?”

  Here on your desk. Me under you. You inside me.

  “The name’s Shana,” she got out on a smile, scolding herself for her irrepressible dreaming. She powered up her professional forty-watt grin, trying to destroy the chill she got from his no-nonsense efficiency. If she was going to close this deal, she needed to warm him up. If I don’t go up in flames first.

  His eyes locked on hers. He was playing tough again. Was he testing her?

  “Ah yeah, right, Shana,” he agreed at last. He hitched his mouth up to one side as his sultry green eyes darted to her breasts where her traitorous nipples blossomed at his regard. In a millisecond, he shook his head and his gaze shot back up toward hers. “Good way to begin, with first names.” But he didn’t say, you can call me Chet. Instead he said, “I’ve read your proposal through a couple of times.”

  “Good.” You should. “To get the Hayward Rodeo into the public consciousness, a full-scale PR campaign is what you need.”

  “Agreed. Starting yesterday too.” He sat forward, folding his hands on his desk and looking her straight in the eyes.

  She inhaled, overjoyed. “Absolutely.”

  “Not.”

  She blinked. Not understanding, not seeing.

  Her gaze fell over his stern features. She’d never seen him as a negotiator before. This look was so different from the charming cowboy and the champion competitor. This man was feral, determined and every feature from the jut of his cheekbones, to the symmetry of his square jaw and the fullness of his let-me-kiss-you-all-over lips became stone barriers to her goals.

  She had been ready for the congenial guy who appeared on TV interviews, not this powerhouse administrator. Years ago, the very sight of his pub shot had made her swallow hard and want bad. She had put that down to her age and lack of experience. Now this man in the flesh made her yearn for his strength in her bed and in her body. She wanted the ravishing man who had held her close minutes before. But that man wasn’t here now. Her heart fluttered, confused by her own wants as well as his words.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I like what you’ve got here.” He patted the proposal and leaned back in his chair to rock. Man in control. Power behind the desk.

  “Good.” She sat forward, determined to disarm him with logic. “Tell me what you don’t like.”

  His gaze mellowed, almost apologizing. “You’re too expensive.”

  She hated the irony. Chet Stapleton had once been known as the country’s championship bronc buster three years in a row. He’d been known to spend his winning purses on horses, cars, wine and women. All the most expensive he could afford. Yet today he earned a meager salary, all because of how she’d ruined his bronc-busting career. And she would make it up to him.

  “I can negotiate.” Her boss had granted her that ability. “Within certain parameters.”

  “I doubt we can bargain. My budget constraints are very tight.”

  “Try me,” she urged him, desperate to make this deal.

  “No.” He smiled sadly. “I wouldn’t want to insult you with a lowball offer.”

  “You can’t,” she countered. “Five hundred a month less on the retainer. My opening offer.”

  He blinked. “Mighty generous. But it’s still too high.”

  She did some quick calculations. She knew where the profit margin was on this job. “Seven-fifty less per month but for a six-month contract.” She would tell Jeff she’d cut her salary for that period. Working with Chet, for Chet, made all of her sacrifice worthwhile.

  He stared at her. “You want this job that much?”

  “I do.”

  “I can’t accept.”

  She scooted forward in her chair and caught another whiff of that citrus cologne. “But you knew your budget problems before I came here,” she said, astonished.

  Or do you really know who I am, and you brought me here to confront me, belittle me, berate me?

  She braced herself, waiting for his attack. “Then why am I here?”

  Go ahead, and get this over with. Yell at me, for god sakes. Throw me out on my ear.

  “Not my choice to bring you here.”

  He’d called her. Or rather his assistant had. “Pardon me?”

  He smiled sadly, his mouth going from grim to grimace in one smooth glide. “I knew I wasn’t going to give you this contract. But the board of directors wanted me to see you. Talk to you. Thank you. They liked your ideas. And I made them promise me we’d hire you if we ever had enough profit.” Chet’s eyes softened for half a second to sparkling pools of sympathy. “So I promised I’d see you. But there’s no money. Well, to be honest, not the kind of money you asked for in this business plan. And so you see, Miz Carpenter, or rather Shana, I asked you here to thank you personally because I always keep my promises. To myself and to those I work with.”

  So her hope that she might work with him, build up his rodeo, build up his reputation and forgive herself for how she had done him wrong went up in smoke.

  “I can’t believe this,” she murmured, lost.

  He slapped both palms on his desk and stood up to tower over her. “Well, you should.”

  She gazed up into those stern eyes of his and pleaded, “Let me help you.”

  His expression dwindled to something akin to sorrow. “You can’t, ma’am.”

  “But I must,” she declared and knew she sounded like a crazy woman. “I’ve seen the lineup you’ve got for the next season. I’ve seen your list of headliners. I’ve studied the problems, read the newspaper clips and the magazine articles. You’ve got to give me a chance.” To prove I’m not a monster who writes lies in newspapers. “Let me.”

  He straightened up, his face a grim façade, his mood unforgiving. “Why?”

  “I want to.”

  “I can see that.” He folded his arms, looking like a colossus she could never move. “But why?”

  “I can. I’m free of major clients for the next three months and I can do it.”

  Once Jeff hears what I’ve done, I might have no clients. But I’d be here with Chet, and that would be just the ticket to solving his problem and mine.

  “But I can’t afford you.”

  “Two grand a month for three months, plus my living expenses. You can afford that. I’ve seen the balance sheets you sent for our use to build the campaign.”

  He whistled. “That’s damn low.”

  And you are damn stubborn.

  “I need the experience.” Her persistence in the face of his recalcitrance startled her, but then she had to find some peace for what she’d done to him. Helping him was her only out. Her only redemption.

  “I’ve read your resume, Shana, so saying you need more experience is a damn lie.”

  The truth then. Okay. Watching his jaw muscles twitch in anger, she stood and raised her chin at him. Maybe he does know who I am. And he hates me. Still, she’d come here to try to wipe that mistake away.

  “I want to leave my firm.” That was true, even if she hadn’t planned to do it for a few more years. “I want to build my own PR company, and the only way I can make it happen is to build an expertise.�
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  “And the rodeo is your choice?” he asked as if she were nuts.

  She nodded. “You are my first choice.”

  “How could that be?”

  Suddenly, she was positive he knew who she was. Knew why she was here. Really here. If that were so, she’d better get on with her plan and her apology. Direct and honest, that was the way to start. “Because, Chet, after you quit the circuit and came here, no one thought you’d do as well as you have.”

  He curled out his lower lip, surly, brooding. “True. And?”

  “Because now you need to do more to make Hayward a first-class event. I can help you do that. I’ve got the connections in my firm to bring in country and western singers to headline Saturday nights. I know the groups to set up a western trail drive for you. I can launch children’s competitions with miniature horses. And we’ll start an annual chili cook-off with big prizes.”

  “All for the Hayward Rodeo,” he said as if she needed her head examined.

  Maybe she did. To hell with whether he knew she’d hurt him. She wanted this job for more than one good reason. She stepped around the rickety desk to face him. Lifting her face to his, she admired his mouth and eyes, both with stress lines she wanted to eradicate. “Yes. All for you. I’ll make your new job so secure that no one will ever mess with you again. You’ll become the most prosperous, most famous rodeo executive in Texas.”

  Stepping near her, he wrapped his huge, warm hands around her upper arms. The electrical current between them buzzed and hummed, uniting them like magnets. “Are you sure the heat wave hasn’t fried your brain?”

  “No, Chet. It hasn’t. What’s wrong with my plan? Rodeoing is a great business. Growing too, since the sports cable channels show the competitions.”

  “True. But your price is so low, I’ll be taking unfair advantage of you.”

  Like I did of you. She stared at him, shocked at the force of her need to make her offer a reality. “Say you want me.”

  He threw back his head and whistled. “Miz Carpenter. Shana,” he crooned in his darling bass and made her pussy pulse with wet demand, “how will your boss take it that you’re doing us such a favor?”

  “Jeff won’t like the idea.” In fact, he’ll hate it, unreasonably jealous as he is of anything in pants that comes near me. But I want you. “I want this. And I am the woman who can make this a success for you.”

  Chet Stapleton looked at her. Every feature. Every contour. She felt caressed and consumed by him.

  Beneath his breath, he cursed. “I’m crazy to even consider this.” He hauled her flush against his chest. Through the thin cotton of her tank top, she felt the overpowering strength of his body and the lure of his easy charm. “We need to shake on this deal.”

  The urge to throw her arms around his neck was the most powerful impulse she’d had in years. And when she gave into it and felt him crush her closer, she knew she’d made the right decision.

  “What if I don’t want to shake?” She grinned up into his gorgeous eyes, impatient to celebrate her victory.

  He examined her as if he were going to have her for dinner. “What if I don’t want to talk?”

  “What if,” her lips strayed over his, open and taking in his scent, “I’d agree?”

  His fingers dug in to her waist and drifted lower to cup her ass. “I’d rather kiss you.”

  “I’d rather you hurried.”

  “Oh, lady,” he whispered as his mouth seized hers. His claim of her was nothing like she’d ever imagined him to be. He wasn’t gentle, but fierce as he swept his tongue around the inside of her mouth.

  She could hardly breathe. She tore away and her head fell back. “Is this lunch?”

  Against her throat, he chuckled. “If you say so.”

  “What’ll your assistant say?”

  He whirled with her in his arms, her legs going up around his waist, as he took two steps to the door and twirled the lock.

  “She’ll say nothing, darlin’.” He eyed her swollen mouth, and her disheveled hair. “What’re you gonna say if I tell you I want you here on my desk?”

  “I’ll say you better have me quickly, because I’m coming soon. And I do want you to come with me.”

  He growled and stepped to his desk. With one sweep of his arm, he sent things scattering across the top and dropping to the floor. He laid her back as if she were made of new-spun glass. “You sure about this, Shana?”

  She let each of her high heels thud to the floor then reached for the top button of his soft denim shirt. “Let me show you how sure I am.”

  He bent, and she worked at the other buttons while one of his big hands cupped one of her breasts. “I want to see these. Taste them.” His green eyes shot to hers. “Look at me. Tell me if I go too fast? I don’t want to scare you.” He cupped her chin. “I scare myself, I want you that badly.”

  She trembled, grasped his silver belt buckle and paused to cup his erection. “I’m terrified, but not of you and not of this.”

  His eyes darkened with to an emerald joy. “Well then, we better get you naked, darlin’, because I’m going to enjoy loving you.”

  She scooted to a partial sitting position and, in a flash, reached down to strip herself of the top and undo her bra.

  His hands covered hers. “For me to do.”

  Reverent in his care, he pushed her hands away from the cups of her bra.

  “Let me see these,” he whispered and reached inside the frilly fabric to lift out her one breast. “A beautiful little apple. I have to have a bite,” he pleaded and bent to nip his teeth over her tip.

  “Ah god, Chet!” She flung back her head, seared by the heat of his lips and the nip of teeth on her nipple. “You’re going to destroy me.”

  He caught her head in his hands and pressed his mouth to hers. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” He arched her up so that he could suck her other nipple into his mouth. As he pulled away, he blew cool air on her areola and gave her little licks on her navel. With his other hand, he fondled her diamond tummy ring.

  “All this.” His gaze swept her body. “The platinum hair. The puma eyes. The sharp cheekbones. Your lips. Your breasts. And this…” He cupped her at the apex of her thighs to make her squirm. “You are one stunning woman, darlin’.” He kissed her then, his tongue invading her while his hand, palming her cunt, squeezed her hard.

  She squirmed to get closer to his hand and cried out for more of him.

  “You bet. Let’s take this off, baby,” he gripped her skirt and pulled it down the length of her legs.

  But when he came back up and stared at her, she watched him register shock as he saw her naked pussy.

  “You don’t wear panties?” he asked, his gaze running over her pale curls.

  “Not today,” she admitted.

  He couldn’t take his eyes from her short blonde hair as he sank his palm against her. “Christ, you are on fire.”

  “Oh yes.” She undulated against his caress then slid open her legs to let him feel more of her.

  He sank one finger inside her with such ease, he moaned. “Shana, baby, did you get that wet just talking to me?”

  “Oh, I did,” she admitted and widened her legs more. “I wanted you. Needed to have you.”

  “But you don’t know me,” he said, sounding foggy. “How could you know you wanted to get naked with me?”

  She leaned up and held his jaw. “I’ve read about you. Famous rodeo star. Spokesman and fundraiser for disabled competitors. Now manager of the Hayward Rodeo. I know you. Who doesn’t?” She kissed him, cuddling close, her breasts abraded by his pecs and making her liquid with want. She squeezed his fingers between her labia. “Don’t you want me, Chet?”

  He pushed her back to the desktop, ran his hands over her nipples and the hollow of her bellybutton then over her hipbones to her pussy.

  “I want this.” He spread her lips, and she wiggled as the air hit her hungry cunt. “I want to taste this.” He licked the inside of one lip then
the other. “I want to tease this.” He stabbed his tongue against her clit. “I want to suck this.” He put his lips to her small bundle of nerves to pull her into the torrid cavern of his mouth and she cried out.

  Humming in delight, she pulled her labia wider for his ease. “Do you have any condoms?”

  She could feel him smile against her pussy as he said, “What’s your hurry, darlin’? I’m having a wonderful time sucking you.”

  “I know. I know! But I’m coming soon!” she blurted.

  He chuckled against her wet flesh.

  “No, really, don’t you have any?”

  He was busy sending his scalding tongue deeper and deeper inside her.

  She clamped a hand over her pussy to stop him.

  “Ah baby, don’t do that.” He kissed her fingertips. “I can’t drink your cream if you hide this pretty kitty from me.”

  “Condoms!” she insisted. “Here? In the office?”

  He went on blithely nipping her and licking her. When she wiggled like a fish, he held her hips to the desk. “Yeah, okay, honey. Open the top drawer. On your left, baby. Christ, you’re giving off more juice. No, baby. To your left. That’s right. Good girl.”

  “Hurry,” she demanded, almost whimpering, as she opened her labia to tap her clit while he tore at the packet.

  “No fair.” He stayed her hands. “I’m doing this naughty cat. Not you. Never you while I’m around. Hear me?” He snapped on the condom and leaned over her. His eyes were green pools of fire. “Want to feel my cock?”

  “I do.” She licked her lips and reached out her hands.

  He led her to his shaft.

  “Oh god.” She craned her neck to see him. Huge. Jutting from his groin like a long, pink rod. “Just like I always thought.”

  He snorted. “What do you mean?”

  “I saw you in the saddle. You always seemed so big. Too big for an ordinary woman to handle.” She ran her hand over his length. “I want you in my saddle.”