All Smoke No Fire (9 page)

She laughed. “Won’t happen anywhere but in the bedroom, I’m just warning you now.”

He smacked her butt and grabbed her ass cheeks. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.” He liked her being a strong woman, in control of her life, but able to let him take charge when they had sex. Made love. He knew that now. It was making love, for the first time in his life.

Easing her hips up so the tip of his cock pulsed against her glistening pussy lips, he took control. “Grab my cock, kitten. Put it at your opening and take me inside you. Now.”

****

Marilou’s skin goosebumped as a tingle raced across it at Dax’s words. She loved how he commanded, and how she would do anything he asked, anything to please him. Grasping his hard, thick staff in her hand, she slid the head along her pussy, coating him with her juices.

His hands on her butt tightened but he didn’t force her down on him, didn’t hurry her, let her play with their most intimate flesh.

“Did you not hear me say, ‘now’?” His eyes held desperate heat and she couldn’t tease him any longer.

“Yes, sir.” Adjusting herself directly over him, she pushed her hips down, taking him all in with one fast slide, his cock filling her completely, the sensation exquisite.

“Ah, yeah, yeah, kitten.” His body tensed and his eyes closed.

He thought he was in charge, but Marilou felt in control, empowered to make her man as satisfied and pleasured as she could. Placing her palms on his chest, she moved her hips, sliding herself off his cock, slowly, squeezing her inner muscles around him.

“Fuck.” The word came from him in a whisper as he fisted his hands in the sheets.

Dropping herself down onto him, impaling herself with his thick length, she let her own pleasure build, heat sliding through her bloodstream.

“Can’t wait…” His head thrashed from side to side and she took pleasure in knowing she could make this man, this sex god who had proven he could make love to her for hours, lose that masterful control.

She moved her hips, squeezed her muscles, and rode him then, fast and with the abandon her heart told her they both needed right now. This was their forgetting the past, beginning anew, and forging a bond that would not be broken.

Sinking herself onto him, then sliding off, over and over, she felt her own climax building, heating her from within.

Dax palmed her breasts and tweaked her nipples, as always, sensing what she needed, what was happening inside her body. One of his hands pressed between their bodies, touching her clit gently, letting her adjust to the ecstasy of his touch.

When she felt him stiffen under her hands, felt his shaft thicken inside her, then heard him moan his release, she let herself go. Pinpoints of light exploded behind her eyelids and her body worked faster, taking him deeper inside, rubbing her clit harder against his finger.

With a cry she let herself fly, her mind flipping backward, around and around as she called his name, felt his hands on her hips guiding her, then slowing her movements and finally holding her still, his staff filling her completely as he pulsed against her quaking inner muscles.

With a sigh, she came back into her body, muzzy and exhausted. He arranged her to lie on top of him and covered them both with the quilt. As he stroked her hair away from her face, Marilou rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat for long moments.

His fingers twisted a lock of her hair. “You wanted to talk more, kitten?”

“You know how chicks are. We always want to talk more.”

He chuckled. “Go ahead, get it all out in the open.”

She stacked her hands on his chest and set her chin on them, looking at his handsome face. “We have lots of time to talk about things we haven’t shared with each other, but I really want you to know that every minute I’ve spent with you has been exceptional.” She looked at the ceiling for a few seconds, searching for the words. “I’ve never felt so comfortable or safe with anyone the way I’ve felt with you.”

He blinked a couple times. “Kitten, that means more to me than you could know. I’ve had a difficult time with relationships…” With a long breath, he shifted his pillow under his head so he could see her better. “That song I wanted to sell you? I wrote that eight years ago, after my sister was killed on the ranch when equipment malfunctioned.” He shivered and closed his eyes for a few seconds.

Marilou could only imagine the horror, and her soul ached for him and his family.

“My parents shut down, blaming themselves. They sold the ranch and moved us to town, living off the proceeds, locking themselves away from everyone. I was only eighteen, and I felt like I’d lost my whole family.”

She could envision Dax, confused, grieving, not knowing what to do next.

“I wrote the song then, pulled it out every year on the anniversary of Sarah’s death and rewrote it. The last time I did…” He set his hands on her back. “I thought of you. I knew if anyone could make that song come to life, it would be you.”

A fresh wave of tears filled her eyes but she held them back. “That’s the best compliment I’ve ever received.”

“You are more than I’d ever hoped you’d be, and as perfect and flawed as I’d pictured you.”

She smiled. “Somehow, that makes a lot of sense.”

He brushed away a tear that escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek. “Marilou. We’ve got time to get to know each other, but still, I feel an urgency. I want to rush this thing.”

She pulled a grimace. “Well, we don’t really have much time.”

His brows dropped. “What do you mean?”

“I’m booked on a flight back to Montana—Great Falls—tomorrow morning. Beth and Joe are driving the bus to the casino today, and they’re going to cover for me until I get there.”

He laughed. “I can see the three of you conspiring.”

“Yeah, they’re more loyal than any friends I’ve had.” She lifted off him, propping herself up on her elbow. “My flight back to Montana?” Here’s where she would leave herself vulnerable. “I’ve got two tickets.”

He froze.

“I want you to come back with me, open for me, sing duets with me.” She licked her lips quickly. “You won’t be on the bill right away, but I’ll get your name on the lineup as soon as I can make arrangements…which means I have to first make amends to Delroy.” Although she’d gotten him to cover for her Friday, he’d warned her that was the last time. She knew better, though.

“Kitten.” He looked long and hard into her eyes. “Are you sure about this? I mean, things went downhill real fast in New Orleans. Do you want to take the risk?”

Marilou was as sure as she’d been about anything. Ever. But was he as certain? Did he have doubts? “Dax, if we do this, let’s go all in, one-hundred percent, headfirst. It’s the only way we’re going to be confident in our decisions.”

He rolled them until she lay underneath him, his body pressing her into his bed, his face right over hers.

“On one condition.” His smile turned his handsome face irresistible. “Tell me you were wrong. Tell me I’m all fire, no smoke.”

Marilou laughed, laced her fingers together at the back of his neck and pulled his sexy mouth to hers, gently biting his lower lip. “On one condition.” She wiggled her hips under his. “Show me your fire one more time?”

As his hot shaft hardened against her belly, he kissed her. “Anything you want, kitten.” Dax whispered the words against her lips. “Anything.”

####

Would you like to know how Shaw and Harper found each other? They have their own book, the first in the series, All Hat No Cattle. Read the book blurb and find out where you can order it by clicking
HERE
. Here's a sneak peek:

Chapter One

Harper Johansen backed into the last diagonal parking spot on Main Street in Belle Fourche, South Dakota. She jumped out of her company car just as the cattle drive started, and leaned against the front bumper, watching the longhorns plod toward her. Cowboys and cowgirls rode horses along each side of the sauntering cattle, close enough for Harper to touch.

And she had a need to touch. She wanted a genuine cowboy so bad, she almost ached. This was Wednesday, the first day of the four-day rodeo, so she had through Saturday to look for one. There had to be at least one man in town who’d fit her requirements.

Straightening to her full five-foot, two inches, she fluffed her shoulder-length red hair and tugged her T-shirt down. Cocking her jeans-shorts-clad hip toward one of the younger, sexier horsemen, she gave him
the look
. He grinned at her but lifted the reins in his left hand, showing her his wedding ring.

Taken. All the cowboys who matched her idea of perfection were either taken or far too young. Not that she was old at thirty, but she did have an age limit. Rodeo cowboys were usually way beneath her minimum requirement, but she still got enough propositions from them to fill an arena.

After the short parade passed, she headed to the sidewalk, flip-flops flapping, and opened her trunk. She lifted out the box of free samples she had been giving away at every one of the twenty rodeo towns on her summer tour this year. This afternoon’s samples were alcohol-free, but tonight at the rodeo, she’d be gifting her company’s best fermented beverages. Harper set the box on the bumper, balancing it with one hand while she reached up to grab the trunk hood.

Two strong arms reached over and grabbed the teetering box, lifting it out of her way. Attached to the arms was a hunk of a man in a cowboy hat. His plaid shirtsleeves were rolled up over tan, muscled forearms and the top buttons on the shirt were open, revealing a few brown curls. His big brown eyes shone against his tan, strong-jawed face. “Ma’am. Can I help?”

Despite having promised herself there’d be no more men unless she verified they were the real thing—cowboys seven days a week—she smiled. “Thank you.” She shut the trunk and patted the top of it. “Here is fine.”

He leaned over and set the box carefully on the trunk and backed away a step.

His clean soap and pine scent turned everything deep inside her all warm and gooey.

“You’re selling those?” He tucked his fingers into his front pockets.

She pulled out a red can of cola and offered it to him. “Free samples. I work for the company.”

He nodded and accepted it from her. “Thanks. One of my favorites.” His voice was deep and slow, just like she imagined her perfect cowboy’s would be.

“Are you...in the rodeo?” He looked a little older than most. Maybe twenty-five.

“No. Just came into town to watch it.” He looked at her box of cans then back into her eyes. “Will you be at the rodeo tonight?”

She nodded. “Section C, Row 5.”

People wandered by, slowing to look at her box of cans. Pasting on her professional smile, she handed out samples. She struggled for the right words to ask the helpful stud if he was a ranch worker or a stockman or what his cowboy status was. Her inability to formulate a question probably meant it was far too soon to start vetting him.

“I’ll look for you, ma’am.” With a sexy grin, he touched his hat brim and walked away.

Harper stared at the gorgeous sight. Wide shoulders, narrow hips, sweet ass, and long legs in faded denim. Her mouth watered for a bite of those round cheeks. “Yummy.”

“What?” An older woman frowned at her as she took her free sample.

“Yummy...cola. It’s wonderfully refreshing, too.” She focused on handing out the cans and when she looked again, he was gone from sight.

####

If you’d like to read Pete and CJ’s story, they have their own book, the second book of the All Cowboy Series, All Flash No Cash. Read the book blurb and find out where you can order it by clicking
HERE
. Here's a sneak peek:

Chapter One

Pete Gonally wandered past the row of motorcycles parked along the curb, each one leaning like a domino ready to fall. The mid-September sun glinted off the shiny chrome and polished tanks and fenders. Dirty Harry’s Saloon, was a favorite watering hole in Deadwood, South Dakota, even on a Sunday. Pete looked down at his bib overalls, mud-crusted steel-toed boots, and oversized T-shirt. He’d stick out like a pansy in there, but he had to do this. Today.

He turned back to look at the semi he’d parked a block away, loaded with round hay bales that he’d picked up at his uncle’s farm in Wyoming. He could make the trek back to his family’s ranch in Lemmon, but it’d take three hours to get there, a while to shower and change, then three more hours to get back to Deadwood. And he still had to drive up to North Dakota tonight so he could be at work by six the next morning.

“Suck it up.” It was just his nerves making an appearance. He had to ace this interview. This could be the start of his career as a graphic artist. He stepped into the dark bar, letting his eyes adjust for a few seconds. As he’d predicted, nearly every head in the place swiveled to look at him. The scent of leather and spilled beer rolled up his nostrils. Everywhere he looked, black T-shirts with orange graphics, bandanas, and tattoos covered patrons’ bodies. ‘80s rock played from a jukebox in the corner. He pulled off his seed cap and walked to an empty spot at the bar. He ran his hand through his curly blond hair, hoping to look halfway presentable for this meeting.

A man sitting a ways down the bar laughed. “Best card this one. He looks like he just fell off the turnip truck.”

Pete forced his mouth into an amiable smile. No sense in riling anyone up.

The bartender turned and looked at Pete. A shock of short, curly, platinum blonde hair surrounded her tanned face. Serious sea-green eyes met his brown ones. Wow, she was spectacular. Walking toward him in her no-nonsense red tank top, her eyes drifted to his work clothes. She had to be almost six feet tall, just five inches shorter than him. And thin, like a runner.

Stopping in front of him, she tipped her chin up, a quick motion.

He swallowed, wanting to see if those tight lips of hers would loosen up when he kissed them, if that slightly-fuller bottom lip would be bitable, if—