Cowboy Heat (17 page)

For the second time that night, heat scorched her nerve endings. All Ben did was settle his hand along the small of her back to usher her into his sleeper trailer. But she was well aware the neat, intimate space was a window into his life as a cowboy on the rodeo circuit, while she’d revealed almost nothing about her own.

They’d left the saloon in her vehicle—her cousin’s truck, actually—and she’d insisted they go to his place, because that way she had an exit strategy, because she still wasn’t quite sure what she’d signed up for.

Against her hair, he whispered her name—or at least the one she’d given him. The word cascaded over her, drenching her skin with sinful expectations. His. Definitely hers.

She sucked in a breath, caught her bottom lip between her teeth to bite back a moan, but it did no good. He nipped her earlobe, like a playful cub, only there was no mistaking his intent when his huge, hard erection pressed firmly against her backside.

It wasn’t easy, but she did step away from all that delectable male heat and turned to face him. Business before pleasure. She reached for the roll of bills tucked into her cleavage. It had seemed like the kind of place a hooker would stash her cash. Shane and his friends hadn’t been too happy seeing it disappear inside so inaccessible a place.

“Ma’am, Maggie, don’t.”

They both knew it was his money, so she didn’t bother debating the issue. She had a pretty good idea why he’d stopped her. The atmosphere inside the tiny living space was redolent with arousal. His. Definitely hers.

A turbulent storm threatened to swamp her with sensual stimulation. She’d never had trouble asking for what she wanted—or giving as good as she got. But she hadn’t had much—well, any—experience with the whole dominatrix scenario.

The only things she knew for certain were that Ben got as excited as a puppy when she took charge, and that the mere thought of dominating the handsome young man elicited an erotic excitement she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

She took a quick glance around, spotted a slim slab of countertop and took a step toward it. A second later, she hoisted herself onto her perch, ready to fulfil his fantasy—if she could.

Crooking a finger, she signaled that he should come closer. She judged the distance between them with precision, stuck her leg out, and planted the sole of her peep toe along the solid length of his shaft. “That’s far enough.”

Ben’s gaze dropped to her foot. His breathing turned shallow—short, desperate pants of air that echoed around the compact room.

She pulled the bills from her bra and fanned them out for him to see. “You want your money back, you have to earn it.”

He traced the path of rhinestones trailing down the heel
with his index finger and gave her a lazy, wicked smile. “Yes, ma’—”

The door of the trailer crashed open.

Margot jumped. She hit the edge of the counter on the way down, and with a total lack of grace and poise, would have fallen flat on her butt if Ben hadn’t caught her. She clung to him and blinked, trying to take in the dark, hulking presence filling the small doorway.

“What the—” a voice boomed.

“Hi, Clay,” Ben said.

Clay took a step forward.

Margot’s jaw dropped. Six feet of stunningly virile male stomped closer. Wide shoulders filled out a plain black T-shirt to perfection. A pair of jeans accentuated lean hips and sinewy thighs, proving there wasn’t an ounce of anything except muscle on this man’s well-built frame. His slightly battered face suggested he’d honed his powerful body by taking life head on.

And this moment was no exception. His gaze was a brazen strip search down the length of her body. And she was a fool if she thought she could hide her reaction. Already mildly aroused, her breasts ached, the tips jutting against the thin layers of lace and cotton. The folds of her pussy quivered with the need to be filled by a hard, hot length of cock. She wouldn’t have been surprised if his nostrils had flared to catch her scent, so dark and feral was the glance he gave her.

“I couldn’t find you at the saloon, but I heard quite a story from Shane.” He was talking to Ben, but he hadn’t taken his eyes off her. “Made me wonder if you’d been kicked by one too many bucking broncos, boy. I promised your mama I’d look out for you.”

Ben’s arms tightened around her. “I haven’t been kicked by any broncos.”

Ben’s belligerent tone was halfhearted. And she guessed he was thinking, if not for her, it had been a close call. The skeptical look on Clay’s face suggested he could guess how close without being told any details.

“Yet,” Clay said with a certainty about the hand life dealt a man on the rodeo circuit. “So that wad of money in the lady’s hand belongs to…”

“It’s mine,” Ben said at the same time she said, “His.”

She straightened away from Ben and put the pile of bills on the counter. She recognized a lose ’em situation when she saw one.

“Well, thanks Ben—” she said at the same time Clay said, “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Ben?”

Her gaze shot to Clay.

“She says her name’s Maggie Smith,” Ben said surprising the hell out of her, because his tone said he didn’t believe her.

She promptly closed her gaping mouth, but not before she caught Clay suppressing a grin. She glanced up at Ben who shrugged as if his observation was no big deal. “I figured you were being safe and that it was a—”

“Nickname,” she said. “Well, the Maggie part is. My name’s Margot.”

“Hi Margot, I’m Clay,” Clay said, drawing her attention again.

“I figured that out,” she said and wondered what was going on with all the introductions when she was about to leave. “Well, I’d better be—”

“And once you, ah, settled with Shane,” Clay said talking right over her. “You brought Margot home because…”

As expected, Ben blushed and refused to meet Clay’s eyes.

Margot wrinkled her nose. “I believe it’s my fuck-me shoes that, ah, got me the invite,” she said because Clay seemed to expect an answer.

His gaze dropped to her feet. One brow arched. “Aren’t they a little short?”

“They’ve got rhinestones, Clay,” Ben said, then pressed his lips together.

She obligingly twisted her ankle to show off the sparkles on the sole and heel.

“I see that,” Clay said. “So what? You planned to make love to the woman’s shoes?”

His voice was a mix of gentle teasing and curiosity, and she got the distinct impression Ben and Clay had been down this road before.

Ben didn’t seem to mind. Although blushing, he wore that wicked sexy smile of his again. “She has to be wearing them,” he said. “And we were—”

“Yeah, I got an eyeful of just what you were doing when I walked in the door.”

Ben’s unrepentant grin widened.

“Um, excuse me,” she said. “I’m standing right here, and we weren’t doing anything.” Much.

Big mistake inserting herself into the conversation.

Clay sauntered towards her. “So I’m totally misinformed, even though I’m positive I saw your fuck-me shoe planted on Ben’s cock.”

“Yeah, you positively saw that,” Ben said, which was no help whatsoever.

“Margot?”

It took her a minute to realize Clay was waiting for her answer. Maybe because he was now standing right in front of her, blocking her view of the way out.

“What Ben said,” she said. And felt the slow burn of a blush sweep up her face.

“So, just to get my facts straight,” Clay said as calmly as if
they were discussing the weather. “At some point before, during or after your admiration of her footwear, you did actually plan to fuck Margot, right?”

Margot’s jaw sagged. He didn’t have to be a dick about it.

He took a step closer, invading her personal space and every one of her senses. Her pheromones began working overtime coping with the high-T atmosphere swirling around her. And the only coherent thought she had was,
I want some now
. Fortunately, her brain was too slow sending the message to her mouth, so she didn’t say the words out loud.

“Sweetheart, I could smell your sweet heat from the doorway.”

What?
Forget coherent brain function. Quite possibly her autonomic nervous system just short circuited. She didn’t seem able to breathe.

“And I want some,” he said.

“Maggie likes it when you say please, Clay.”

“Please.”

The word was barely a whisper across her skin, but it seared her just the same.

She looked at Clay. Really looked at him. His eyes sparked with lust like thunderbolts across an afternoon sky. And then she looked at Ben, who didn’t seem the least bit upset at the idea of having to share her.

Share. Her. As in, she hadn’t lost them at all.

Clay stepped to one side. “Are you in?”

And she realized Clay no longer blocked the path to the door. He’d made his request, and she could either accept or not. She could leave if she wanted, and they’d let her go.

“Please, ma’am,” Ben said.

Margot looked from Clay’s hard, still features to Ben’s puppy dog eyes. What the hell? It was obvious that one him plus one
her plus another him was a highly combustible combination. “I’m in,” she said. “As long as I get to keep my shoes on.”

“She’s trying to get into my pants again,” Ben said.

Yes, well, he’d already stripped off her jeans and it wasn’t fair. He and Clay had one woman to undress, while she had two men in way too many clothes and not nearly enough skin.

Clay chuckled. His breath tickled the back of her neck, sending a shiver of need down her spine. “I’ll distract her while you find a solution.”

Distract her. He’d begun distracting her about a second after she’d caved to his request. About the only reasoned thought she’d had since was
more
. Sometimes, like a moment ago, she wanted more scrumptious male flesh exposed for her pleasure. She was greedy for another taste, another touch. Of Ben’s smooth, lean muscles and the smattering of fine hair down the center of his chest. Of Clay’s rougher, battle-scarred skin covered in dark fur.

She bit her lip as the tip of Clay’s tongue traced a path down the side of her neck to her collarbone. She swallowed the guttural sound of longing that threatened to escape, because sometimes, like right now, she wanted to scream.

The men wanted to explore every square inch of her. And she wanted that too. God, she truly did. But they were so damn slow and the tsunami was building out of control inside her, and there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop it.

“Here, try this,” Ben said.

She frowned because he was holding up the length of silk scarf she used as a belt.

“Yep, that’ll do,” Clay said.

“Do for what?” she asked.

Ben just grinned. “You’re interfering with my fun, and Clay’s a champion tie-down roper.”

She fought. “But I want…”

“Shh, now,” Clay said, pinning her hands behind her back with ease. “It’s our turn to worry about providing what you want.”

She shook her head, but it was impossible to argue. He threaded the silken tie between her wrists and around her arms in some intricately seductive pattern that left her hands cupped behind her. And then he stepped forward into the small void between them.

His large, denim-clad erection filled her palms. He stilled behind her, as if waiting to see if she’d accept him. She had to concentrate against the assault to her senses, but somehow she sent the right signals to her fingers, and they squeezed the hard length.

A soft growl rumbled past his throat. He ground his cock against her, and she sank against him in surrender, his coarse chest hair rasping against the sensitive skin of her back.

That seemed to be the signal Ben needed. He slid to his knees in front of her and she dimly remembered this was the fantasy she’d envisioned. Only in her version he wasn’t still wearing his jeans.

“She’s soaking wet, Clay,” he said, a finger stroking her slit through her underwear.

“I know,” she said. “Now do something about it.”

Clay’s hands slid around her waist, stilling her impatient demands for attention. His fingers skimmed the edge of her panties. “On or off.”

She whimpered at the needless delay.

“The lace is pretty,” Ben said. “But I want to taste her.”

Margot watched, mesmerized as they stripped her bare. And then Ben’s mouth was on her. Hot, hungry. He licked her pussy, eagerly lapping the juices. His tongue delved deeper into her folds, impatiently searching for more.

She was battered by an erotic storm raging around her, through her. Caught between the one man’s devastatingly wicked tongue-fuck of her bare pussy and the other man’s denim-clad cock dry-fucking her hands.

“Let go,” a voice rumbled in her ear.

She hovered on the edge, alternately begging and ordering Ben and Clay to take her the rest of the way. And then her neck arched and she screamed, wanton and uncaring who heard her, giving a keening wail as wildfire blazed across her skin. She thought she heard Ben cry out, but she was too far gone to care.

It took Margot a moment to realize her arms were free, that she was being held in Clay’s arms, and that he still had his pants on while she was bare-ass naked.