Cowboy's Cupid

by Niki Mitchell

  “What do you think?” He asked Cami, now perched on the white leather couch.

  She waved her slender fingers to the coffee table. “Here’s fine.”

  “Would you like this bottle opened?” the man asked.

  Rhett nodded, and the concierge poured two glasses. “Anything else I can get you?”

  “No thanks.” Rhett tipped the man ten dollars and the door shut. He handed her a fluted glass and took one for himself.

  “Mine says, ‘his.’” She pointed to the flowery lettering a few inches from the rim.

  “So it does.” His fingers grazed hers as they switched glasses. “Must have gotten the honeymoon suite’s set.” He stared at her crossed legs and noticed her bare feet. He’d never thought feet were sexy, but by God, she wore pink toenail polish with red hearts. “To an enjoyable night, even if the Silver Wings won.” He clicked her glass.

  “You mean the right team.” She sipped champagne.

  “You aiming for a fight?”

  “Maybe?” She giggled. “Try some strawberries.” Two red slices dropped into his glass, berries the same color as her mouth.

  He took a sip. “Delicious.” Yearnings were strong as he delved his fingertips through her thick hair at the back of her neck. “You’re gorgeous.” He fluttered kisses along her neck, caressed his way to her chin, and flicked his tongue to indulge in her scrumptious lips. Angling his mouth over hers. Fire erupted through his body, fire that only she could quench. It took effort to pull back and not press her further. “You taste like champagne.” He filled her glass and brought it to her lips.

  A yawn followed, and she glanced at her watch. “It’s midnight.”

  “Yep.” He didn’t want to end their night yet but let her make the call.

  “Thanks for taking me to the game.”

  “Was my pleasure.” His heart did a happy trot, and he pushed a wayward lock of her hair behind her ear. His fingertips traced her jawline, he softly kissed her.

  She yawned, stretching her arms above her head. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Stay, please.”

  “And fall asleep on the rigid couch when a plush mattress calls? Thanks for giving me my best day ever.” She kissed his cheek and rose.

  Arguments were pointless. “You’re welcome. Sleep all morning if you want. Check-out is not ’till eleven.”

  “Sounds heavenly.” She sauntered to her room, with every sway he prayed for an invitation to join her. She shut her door.

  That was it.

  No way could he sleep right now. He got his bag, went into the bathroom, and stepped into the shower. Imagining Cami with water cascading down her body, he switched the water to cold, rinsed off, dressed in a pair of flannel pants and a T-shirt.

  Wide-awake, he went to the couch and clicked the remote to an old western. Gunfire ricocheted. A man tumbled from the top of the building. Bullets hit a water trough and streams jetted out. Gotta love a wild west shootout.

  When the movie ended, he flipped to the sports channel. Highlights of the hockey game came on. He thought about Cami. She challenged him to enjoy little things.

  He switched the channel, heard a woman's voice whimpering, and figured it came from the movie. The wall clock said it was one-fifteen. Might as well head for bed.

  As he walked past her door, he found it ajar and heard her whimpering, “No, please.” She must be having a bad dream.

  He knocked, and she mumbled words he couldn't comprehend. Not sure what to do, he waited in her doorway.

  “Don’t make me go in there,” she said as her arms thrashed.

  At least it wasn’t a bad dream about him. He sat on the bed next to her and said gently. “Cami, wake up.”

  “It’s dark. So dark. I’m scared,” she mumbled.

  “Cami, it’s alright. Wake up. You’re dreaming.”

  “W-what?” Her eyes fluttered open. “Rhett, what are you doing in here?”

  “You were talking in your sleep.” To alleviate the darkness, he switched the light on the nightstand and gazed at her.

  She grasped the white sheet covering her body “I was?”

  “Wanna tell me your dream? It might help you settle down.”

  “It’s silly.” Her hands trembled slightly.

  “Dreams rarely make sense. It’s your brain trying to sift through your problems.” He lowered into the edge and angled his body to face her “As a kid I dreamed I saw a kitten transform into a gargantuan tiger. For the next month, I freaked whenever I heard a meow.”

  “And what anxiety were you suffering from?”

  “Too many Garfield cartoons,” he said with a laugh. “Haven't had that dream since I was ten, but the thought of that terrifying cat’s fangs still makes me shudder.”

  “You’re funny.” She sat up and fluffed the pillow behind her.

  “So what frightened you?”

  She let out a long sigh. “You sure you want to hear this?”

  “Yes.” He wanted her to open up to him.

  “Well, I was being chased by a big guy who caught me and locked me in his dungeon?” She shivered.

  “I once had a dream I was in a cellar full of rats.”

  “No rats, but it was cold and dark and scary. It seemed so real.”

  “Dreams usually do.” He had his share of nightmares.

  “You woke me before my dream got worse.” Her fingers ran up his arm. Her touch kindled fire through his muscles. “Thanks.” She brought her mouth to his lips, still tasting like champagne.

  It’d be easy to take advantage of the situation but being honorable, he said, “I better head for bed.”

  “I want you to stay.” Her voice a velvet whisper as she eased down the sheet and motioned to the pillow. She wore a flannel nightgown, her breasts outlined by the light, and he stifled a groan.

  “If you’re sure.” He lay next to her on his side.

  “Kiss me, please?”

  “Thought you’d never ask.” He caressed the pulse spot on her neck, her chin, and nibbled on her lips. She opened her mouth, and he enjoyed deepening their kiss.

  His hand stroked her arm, and he ran his fingertips along her covered breast and cupped them, while she slipped her hands underneath his T-shirt. Heated, he stopped kissing her and yanked his shirt off. Grateful the lights were on, he could see the passion in her eyes. “Now, where were we?” Instead of starting with her lips, he feathered kisses down her neck and unbuttoned the front of her nightgown to expose her breasts. He rubbed his finger and thumb over a pink nipple and watched it harden. “You like that?” He couldn't resist tonguing the areola and took it into his mouth.

  She ran her nails across his back while emitting tiny, enticing sounds. He let go of her breast and brought his mouth to hers, savoring her sweet taste. Her fingertips tickled his upper back; his muscles twitched. She circled his nipple, copying the action of his thumb and forefinger.

  He inched up her nightgown, his hand explored her flat belly. His fingers massaged her outer thigh, and he traced her mound with his fingertips. Her pleased moan about undid him. He pressed her knees apart, tentatively dipped his finger inside her core and found her wet. He eased out and moved back in. She was tight. He continued toying with her core, while his thumb massaged her clit. Her eyes remained closed, as she whimpered, “Oh, Rhett.”

  “I like it when you say my name.” He kept the motion, enjoying her response. Winding her tension tighter. He withdrew his fingers, bringing her to the brink of release.

  “Please ... don’t ... stop,” she said, breathless.

  He continued touching her. She spiraled higher and higher, until she climaxed, feeling her rippling tremors, and staying still while watching her body relax. He bunched up her nightgown. She raised it over her head, while he caressed her body with his eyes. They kissed, his fingers traced her waist and butt, and she lifted the elastic on his boxers. When her hand touched his manhood, a low growl erupted from him.

  “I want you,” she gave a desperate
sigh.

  He framed her face with his hands and kissed her cheek. “Be right back.” He sprinted into the other bedroom, shaking as he grabbed a handful of condoms out of his bag, ran in panting, hoping, and praying in his absence that she wouldn’t change her mind. Shedding his boxers, his hands shook as he rolled the latex over his erection. In the dimmed light, he saw her eyes glisten. “You sure?”

  “Yes.” Her voice low and breathy.

  He parted her legs, positioned himself at her entrance, and looked at her face. Her eyes gazed at him with desire. His cock said to take her fast, but his mind told him to go slow, inching inside her womanly folds. He delighted in her tightness against his shaft ... until he thrust through a slight resistance, and she whimpered.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” He stilled. Rhett didn’t do virgins. She hadn’t seemed experienced or worldly, but dammit, she was over twenty. What woman her age hadn’t slept with at least one boyfriend? He tried to pull out, but she wrapped her legs around his hips.

  “It doesn’t matter, not anymore,” she spoke with a velvet whisper, “make love to me, cowboy.”

  He rolled her on top. “You set the pace.”

  She rode him tortuously slow. He pushed up with his hips, increasing their contact. It felt so damn perfect.

  “My turn.” He flipped her, entered her slowly, and gradually accelerated to a faster thrust.

  Her insides bucked and buckled and quivered, “Rhett, yes, Rhett.” Her exploding momentum caused his own climax.

  When his breathing slowed, he rolled onto his side. “That was—”

  “Wonderful,” her voice like sugarcoated silk.

  “I didn’t hurt you, I mean, except at first?” He’d been rough. If he had known about her innocence, he would have been gentler. If he had known, he wouldn’t have slept with her. There was no going back. If he were honest, he liked being her first lover.

  “Hurt? What you did was extraordinary.”

  “I agree.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it.

  Now that he had a taste of her, he wanted more.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cami woke to a heated grip surrounding her waist. Rhett held her in place, and she breathed in his manly scent. His length pressed along her backside sending a quiver of desire straight to her core.

  What had she done?

  Shooting stars, she’d slept with him. Her heart tripped. Cupids were not to become involved physically with humans. Still, she wondered why? She recalled hearing whispers about a Cupid who fell in love with a mortal and was banished to Earth for the remainder of her life. Could she handle that?

  She wasn’t sure.

  She’d been taught to follow rules. Guilt had her mentally berating herself for sleeping with him. How had that happened?

  Last night in her dream, she’d been thrown into a shadowy, blackened dungeon. The darkness scared her. Rhett came to her rescue. His eyes glimmered as he enfolded her into his arms, keeping her safe. It seemed natural for them to make love.

  Except, he’d never been hers for the taking. She needed to get up, move, and wiggle out of his grasp.

  He nuzzled her neck and emitted a pleasurable, “Mmm—”

  How she longed to run her fingers through his tussled hair and pull his mouth to hers and make love with him all morning. That would be wrong, wrong, wrong. She unclasped his fingers and sat up.

  “Mornin’,” his voice came out smooth and enchanting. Everything about Rhett was smooth and enchanting.

  “Hey. I’ll be right back.” She had to get away. Naked, she ran to the bathroom and leaned against the door. Her chest tightened, and her pulse sped. She’d had sex with Rhett and would forever savor the experience. She’d failed her job, failed to set him up with his soulmate. Instead, she’d slept with him.

  What if the council finds out?

  She slowed her breathing. Who would tell them? Certainly not her.

  At the sink, she washed her face and stared at her reddened lips, the whisker burns on her body, a reminder of her night of passion. She’d given him her innocence.

  The shower in front of her couldn’t wash away her problems, but it might soothe her sore muscles. She stepped inside and allowed the warm water to flow over her. As she soaped her breasts, she imagined Rhett’s calloused thumbs massaging her nipples. Knock it off. As much as she enjoyed being intimate with him, it had to be a one-time event.

  Shame threaded through her worried mind. What would happen when he saw the real her? She imagined the raw and vulnerable hurt on his face. She’d not only blown it for herself, she’d decimated his future.

  Encased in a soft white towel, she went into her room. Rhett no longer slept in her bed although the rumpled bedsheets reminded her of their wondrous night. Deep in her heart, she wouldn’t mind being his soulmate, but a massive obstacle stood between them—he was a mortal and she a Cupid.

  Their love could not last an eternity.

  ~ ~ ~

  Rhett stood in the doorway holding a cup of coffee in one hand and tea in the other. Cami perched on the edge of the bed combing out her wet hair. Wrapped only in a towel, her slender legs were in full view. He swallowed, and his cock stiffened against his boxer shorts. He wanted her.

  She wasn’t smiling, seemed pensive.

  “Made you tea.” He set both cups on the end table next to her and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “You okay.”

  “I’m fine.” She wouldn’t even look at him.

  “You sorry about last night?” He sat on the bed and eased his arm around her.

  She stiffened. “No. Yes. I don't know.” Confusion showed in her wide eyes. She failed to give an inkling of a smile. Last night, she’d begged him to stay.

  Sweet-talk didn’t come naturally. With no idea what thoughts floated through her head, he remained motionless. What did she want to hear? Probably best to leave her alone. “Think you could order breakfast for us while I shower. There’s a menu by the phone.”

  “Sure,” she said, her tone flat.

  “Bacon and eggs for me. Thanks.” He walked out baffled and somewhat dejected.

  He stepped into the shower. What the hell just happened? Making love had been awesome, or at least it had been for him. But it’d been her first time, and he should have been gentler. Guilt coursed through his mind.

  Dammit, he wanted to fix this thing. Not that he’d offer marriage. It was too soon to think about forever. But hell, he wouldn’t mind making her his girlfriend and see where it went from there. Could be that’s what bothered her. With women, it’s hard to tell. Flowers might make her feel better. In this case, flowers would seem like an apology. He wasn’t the least bit sorry they made love.

  She’d been thrilled with the hat and jersey. That should’ve said he liked her plenty. He dressed, walked into the hotel’s living room with hardly a clue what to expect, and took the barstool to her left.

  She had changed into jeans and a black T-shirt and was reading the hotel magazine’s featured article on the Disneyland Resort.

  “I haven’t been to Disneyland in years. Love Space Mountain.”

  “Never been,” she said in a quiet mouse-like voice.

  “Really? Then I’ll have to take you. It’s only a few hours south of here.”

  She shrugged and seemed distant.

  “Come on, it’s Disneyland. What if I promise to take you on It’s a Small World?” He laughed. “The girly ride kinda blows my macho image, but for you, I’d be willing to sacrifice.”

  “Aren’t you generous?” A slight giggle escaped. It was a start.

  A knock rapped twice.

  “I’ll get it.” Rhett opened the door.

  The concierge pushed in a cart. He placed a cup in front of Cami. “Coffee, miss, or would you prefer tea?”

  “Tea, please.” He poured hot water into her porcelain cup, and she added a White Peony teabag.

  He picked up the silver covering, handed her fruit and yogurt, and Rhett a plate with bacon and e
ggs.

  “That will be all. Thanks.” Rhett tipped the man. As Rhett walked back to his barstool, he ran his hand along her arm.

  She dipped a strawberry in a dish of whipped cream without acknowledging him.

  If only he had the words to break the coolness between them. Coolness? A freaking iceberg had developed. “Check-out’s not for several hours. I know you didn’t get much sleep last night so feel free to go back to bed.” He’d leave it up to her. Maybe if she slept, her spunky attitude would return.

  “I’d rather head home. Nap in your truck if that’s okay.”

  “Fine.” He didn’t torment himself and watch, knowing her seductive hips would swing as she headed for her room. He finished eating, grabbed his things, and met her by the door.

  “Ready?”

  “Yes.” She focused on her pink bag.

  They stepped inside the elevator. “I don’t want things to be awkward when we get back.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said, fidgeting with the strap on her bag.

  “Dammit. That’s not what I meant.” He combed his fingers through his hair and cracked his knuckles. “I didn’t plan on last night. But it happened.”

  Her complete silence had him on edge.

  The elevator stopped.

  “Cami, look at me,” he said tenderly. “This was your first time.”

  The door opened and a family came inside.

  Damn luck.

  ~ ~ ~

  Exasperation fueled Rhett’s drive home. Cami slept for most of the way. When she finally stirred, he said, “What can I do to make things right?”

  “I'm fine, really, just overly tired.”

  About noon, Rhett stopped in front of the ranch. “Come to the house tonight. I’ll order dinner.”

  “It’s my night off. How ’bout a raincheck?”

  “If you change your mind, you know how to find me.” He hated how she pulled away.

  “See you soon.” She bounded out of the truck and sprinted for her apartment.

  Yesterday had been fantastic. Making love with her phenomenal. She had him wound up. Worn out mentally and physically, he headed straight for his room and slept. Didn't wake until about six hours later. He figured sleep would get him out of the funk he’d had earlier, but a restless unease about his future with Cami flustered his thoughts.