Authors: Lorelei James
Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Adult, #Western, #Red Hots!, #Contemporary Romance
“No. Those shoppers are worth every penny because you always look smashing.”
“Smashing?” Jack groaned. “Fuck. That word makes me sound like a metrosexual.”
“You’re all hunky, hot, real man, in my experience, so not to worry.” Keely ducked out of the closet to sit on the bed. She wore a strangely pensive look.
Shit. Maybe she did think he was a fucking pussy because he didn’t have a closet full of Wranglers, shitkickers and flannel. “What?”
“I’m going out on a limb here. You don’t have a revolving door to your bedroom, do you?”
He shook his head, less self-conscious about his pathetic sex life than his dismal apartment. “As a matter of fact, you’re the first woman I’ve ever asked into my bedroom, Keely.”
The look of surprise melted into a look of pure seduction. Keely reached up, wrapped her fingers around the knot in his tie and tugged hard. “Whaddya say we christen the bed?”
“I’m not sure—”
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“I am.” Using the tie, she pulled his face closer to hers. “If you’re afraid I’m gonna muss your snappy suit, GQ, you’d be right. But I happen to know you’ve got a whole closet full of replacements, so buck up and fuck me.”
Jack’s dick was as hard as a steel beam upon seeing the wicked gleam in her eyes. He crawled over her and backed her into the middle of the bed. “Strip.”
But Keely flipped Jack on his back. Straddling him, she said, “Nifty trick, huh?”
“With five older brothers, I’m not surprised.”
She kissed him, letting the glide of lips and tongues heat them both up. Between kisses, she whispered, “Let me take care of you, Jack.”
“Anything you want. I’m yours.”
“Then I’ll take you.” Keely rolled off the bed, whipped off her clothes and climbed back on top of him. The woman was something—all naked, soft, bouncy female parts.
Her fingers unknotted his tie. She left it undone beneath his collar and worked the buttons free, spread the shirt open, leaving his chest exposed. Next she unbuttoned, unzipped and removed his pants and boxers.
She nibbled the column of his throat. Her hands mapped every ridge and muscle on his chest.
“Doesn’t this feel naughty with me buck-ass nekkid on top of you, and you still wearing your shirt and tie?
Like I’m your wicked secretary and we snuck off so I could take…dictation?”
Jack laughed softly. “Oral?”
Keely bit down on his left nipple and he arched up from the sheer pleasure of it. “You like the rough stuff, boss?” She bent her mouth to his right nipple and did the same thing.
“Keely—”
“Here’s a memo. If you don’t zip it I’ll stop touching you.”
“Shutting up now.”
She tasted and tormented his upper body until Jack thought he’d shoot like a randy teenage boy if she ever put her hand on his dick.
But she avoided his cock. Even when it was jerking, leaking and begging for her attention.
Keely kissed him all too briefly and pushed up on her knees over his pelvis. She touched his lips with her index and middle fingers. “Open.”
He parted his lips and drew her fingers deeply into his mouth, getting them good and wet.
She murmured, “You do that so well, Jack.” Then she trailed her wet fingers down her slit and plunged them into her pussy.
His cock slapped against his belly.
Keely’s free hand pinched her nipple hard. She moaned loudly as she continued to fuck herself on her own fingers.
Jack watched Keely raptly, beautiful in abandon.
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She locked her gaze to his and pulled her fingers out of her sex with a wet sucking sound. Then she pressed them to his lips again.
He sucked, growling at the dark, sweet taste of her juices flowing over his tongue.
“Am I wet enough to take full dictation?”
“Yes. Goddamn, Keely you’re making me crazy.”
“Good.” She slanted her mouth over his and sank down on his cock to the root.
She rode him hard. Her tits bounced sexily as she dangled above him, her head thrown back.
Repeating the motion and the rhythm, bringing them both to the edge.
Jack grabbed a handful of her ass and directed her to pump her hips faster. He couldn’t hold back and as his balls tightened. The combination of arching his pelvis the same time as her cunt muscles clamped down on his shaft made him shout until his throat hurt.
A blank sense of peace floated over him.
Sweet kisses roused him. He flipped his eyes open. Shit. Had Keely come?
She pressed her forehead to his. “To answer the question I see in your eyes, yes, I got off. You didn’t leave me wanting. You never leave me wanting, Jack.”
“That’s a relief. I sort of blacked out there at the end.”
“Exactly what I was aiming for.” Three more flirty kisses and Keely smiled against his cheek. “Bed christening complete.”
Saying
thank you
seemed lame and pathetic, but he muttered it anyway.
“My pleasure. Next go around let’s break in the reclining chair in your living room. Oh, and for that one? I’ll want you to wear a brown suit coat. And the Scooby Doo boxers.”
Keely insisted on driving her truck to the hotel, mumbling about getting stuck in the city without a means to escape.
After they’d checked in, Jack donned a different suit. It amused him to see Keely fussing as she readied herself for the cocktail party. She rarely primped—she didn’t need it, she always looked utterly breathtaking—but she took extra time with her makeup.
She sighed. “Should I put my hair up?”
He moved behind her in the big bathroom mirror and kissed her shoulder. “No. Your hair is beautiful the way it is.”
“Beautiful? It’s stick straight and boring and—”
“Perfect. Leave it. I love it.”
“You do?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
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“Fine. What about my makeup? Should I add more eyeliner?”
“Keely. Stop. Breathe. Buttercup, you look terrific.”
She inhaled and let the breath out slowly. “I’m nervous.”
“Why? This is no different than Milford. You did fine there. Better than fine. Just be yourself.”
As Jack walked out of the bathroom, he thought he heard her mutter, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
The banquet room was packed and the cocktail party was in full swing when Jack and Keely entered.
She refused a drink, as the choices were only red or white wine.
Once his colleagues noticed them, they were swarmed. The men wanted a closer look at Keely. The women were sizing her up as well, which increased Keely’s nervousness. She kept tugging at her dress and fiddling with her hair.
Ten minutes into the social bullshit, the moment Jack had been waiting for arrived: Baxter and Martine approached them.
Baxter stuck out his hand. “Jack! Good to see you, buddy. We must’ve missed each other during the seminars.”
Jack returned Baxter’s vigorous handshake. “Good to see you too, Baxter. I made a couple of the morning sessions, but Keely was due in this afternoon so I’m afraid I skipped out.” He placed his arm around Keely’s shoulder, urging her forward. “Baxter, this is my fiancée, Keely McKay. Keely, Baxter Ducheyne, my former business partner.”
Keely smiled offered her hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine. Allow me to introduce my wife, Martine.”
Martine offered her manicured fingertips. “Kelly. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to chat later.”
Then Martine’s lipsticked mouth bestowed a tight-lipped kiss on each of Jack’s cheeks. “Jack. Darling.
How marvelous to see you. You’re looking devilishly handsome as ever.”
Jack ground his teeth at Martine’s mispronunciation of Keely’s name. He managed a civil smile.
“You’re looking…rested.”
Baxter chuckled.
Martine allowed a brittle laugh and addressed Keely. “Isn’t this awkward. I’m sure Jack told you about our past relationship. Whenever our paths cross and he’s so cool, I realize I miss the divine compliments he used to lavish on me.”
He withheld a snort. Lavish. Right.
Keely blinked innocently at Martine. “You and Jack had a fling? Really?” She half-elbowed Jack in the gut. “Seems
someone
forgot to mention that tidbit to me.”
Martine’s eyes narrowed first at Keely, then at Jack, as if she couldn’t believe she hadn’t rated mention.
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Jack leaned over to brush a soft kiss on Keely’s temple. “Sorry, sweetheart. We’ve been preoccupied, haven’t we?”
“Yes, we were all quite shocked to hear the playboy had been caught.” Martine’s gaze lingered on Keely’s midsection. “I assume since the engagement was so quick, a hurry-up wedding is to soon follow?”
That bitch thought Keely was pregnant. Jesus Christ. How had he ever been attracted to her? The woman was an absolute nightmare. “No, we haven’t actually set a date. Next year, maybe. She’s wearing my ring. That’s what matters to me.”
“Oh, yes, let me see the ring,” Martine cooed.
Keely held out her left hand.
Martine scrutinized the diamond. “Lovely. What is it? About seven carats?”
“Nearly eleven,” Jack said. “A daily reminder that Keely ranks above a perfect ten in my eyes.”
Keely swallowed hard. To anyone else it’d appear she was overcome with emotion, but Jack knew she was choking back a snort of disbelief.
“A Tiffany creation?” Martine asked.
“No, Harry Winston.” Might be petty, but he knew that’d grate on Martine. She’d always dropped hints about wanting jewelry bearing that exclusive name and he’d never indulged her.
“I hope you’ll accept my sincerest congratulations,” Baxter said. “It’s good to see you smiling again, Jack.”
“Yes, thank you. I have quite a bit to smile about these days. We’ll see you later.” He steered Keely away.
When they were alone, Keely said, “You actually fucked her? Dude. Did her forked tongue feel exceptionally good on your dick or something?”
Jack grinned. “She didn’t ‘do’ that more than once, if I recall. My taste has improved markedly, hasn’t it?”
“Yes. So has your bullshitting ability.” Keely peered into his eyes. “A daily reminder that I’m above a perfect ten? Please. Jack. I almost gagged.”
“Mmm.” He kissed her. Twice. “Why do you think I got us out of there so fast?”
“Smart move. After that…I need alcohol so badly I’ll even drink a shitty glass of wine.”
“Hang tight. I’ll be right back.”
After dropping off her wine, Jack left Keely in the midst of a group of his colleague’s wives. She’d done this meet and greet before with great success and she didn’t need him holding her hand, especially when he had business to discuss. Keely was tough. Smart. She could hold her own with anyone. She’d do just fine.
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This party was Keely’s worst fucking nightmare.
First, she was underdressed.
Way
underdressed. The women in attendance wore smart, classy cocktail dresses that probably cost more than her truck. The frumpy little engagement dress which’d worked in so well in Wyoming and Utah made her look like an escapee from
Hee Haw
in this ritzy setting.
Second, her feet hurt. She’d worn heels, but checking out the other women’s expensive shoes, flip-flops would’ve been a better footwear choice. And would’ve garnered fewer, “Are those shoes from Payless?” type of raised eyebrows the females aimed at her poor aching feet.
Third, no beer. What kind of party didn’t have a cash bar that served beer? Which served as another reminder of how hopelessly low class she was. How out of her league Jack was.
Fourth, Mr. High Class himself had abandoned her. Completely. No looking back, no encouraging smiles from across the room. He’d ditched her in a nest of snakes.
Even the women’s clattering bracelets and earrings sounded like rattles—but she doubted she’d get any warning before they struck.
“You’re from Wyoming?” a brunette with far too many Botox injections asked.
Keep it simple. “Yes.”
“I’ve never actually met anyone from Wyoming,” another brunette with beady black eyes commented.
“What on earth do you do there?
Is
there anything to do there? Or is that why the state is so meagerly populated? Because no one can stand to stick around?”
Female laughter.
Keely blushed.
“Oh, I’m sure
Kelly
can regale us with plenty of quaint little tales from her life in the Wild West, Laura.” Martine sipped her white wine. “I imagine you have a horse?”
“Actually, I have two horses. One—”
“So you don’t have a car?” Martine snarked back.
“Of course I have a vehicle. A truck.”
Snickers.
“With mud on the tires, a gun rack and a bale of hay in the back?” a snide blonde sidekick of Martine’s tossed out.
“Oh, Reagan, don’t forget country music blaring as she’s driving down the gravel road to take care of her horse,” the another brunette threw in.
“
Horses
,” Martine corrected sweetly. “She owns more than one, remember? I’ll bet one’s a real stud.”
Laughter.
“How does Jack feel about letting you ride another stallion?”
Don’t say a word.
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“No, seriously, Kelly. We’re pleased for you and Jack. Even if we’re a bit surprised by his…choice.”
Martine flashed her fangs. “You have been married before?”
Keely frowned. “No. Why would you—”
“I just assumed girls in your neck of the woods married early. Anyway, I’m sure your family is pleased you caught a man like Jack.”
Caught. Like I laid out a trap line? Give me a fuckin’ break.
“Does Jack get cattle or land or pigs or something after you get married?” the nasty blonde asked with mock-sincerity.
“Or forty acres and a mule?” another added.
Martine admonished her. “Theresa! That was not nice. I’m sure that ‘bride price and dowry’ nonsense is a thing of the past.” She peered at Keely through slitted eyes. “Isn’t it?”