Poker Face (9 page)

Witch.

The deep chuckle behind her told Megan he was there. She felt him
purposely bump her backside as he passed knocking her off balance. She stumbled
forward like a clumsy moron, giving him the dirtiest look she could muster on
such short notice. Every nerve ending in her body came to life from the brief
bump. What was happening to her? This guy was turning her inside out, upside
down, and sideways.

Do not look at him
.
Don’t you dare give him
the satisfaction.

Megan’s gaze went to Drew’s arm which slipped possessively around
the girl’s tiny waist. He tugged the girl hard up against his chest, and leaned
in crushing her lips with his. For once in her life, Megan was speechless,
paying too close attention to the impressive lip action, instead of what she
should be doing, which was walking away. Even worse, Drew seemed to notice her
sudden interest as he finally broke the kiss and offered her a meek smile.
“Sorry Filly, forgot you were still standing there.”

“By all means, continue.” Have sex in the barn if you want, I was
just leaving. Good grief Megan, get a grip. He’s not worth it. Don’t you dare
cry! You’ll never hear the end of it if you let your emotions take over.

He cleared his throat, and gave the girl in his arms an
affectionate squeeze “Bailey, this is Megan, the girl I told you about.”

“The bitch ruining your life?” The girl batted her eyes up at him.

“Okay, I’m leaving now. Have fun you two. I’ll make sure to leave
you a blanket and pillow out on the couch for when you come dragging up
tonight, Drew.” His cheeks turned bright red making her almost feel sorry for
him. Good. She hoped she’d gotten him into trouble with his girlfriend, and he
wouldn’t attempt anything else stupid.

The girl seemed oblivious to the tension between her boyfriend and
Megan, or didn’t care, her palms went to his chest. Her fingers twisted the
fabric of his shirt. “You’re all wet and smelly. Did you not take a shower?”

As Megan was walking away she heard … “Um Filly, don’t think
anything’s changed. I still have every intention of sleeping in
my
bed.”

*****

Exhausted, Megan quickly showered and went straight to bed. She
rolled to her stomach and hugged her pillow to her with a content groan. Ah,
the bed all to herself. It was wonderful. She snaked out a leg enjoying the
coolness of the cotton sheets against her clean skin. Events from the day
replayed through her mind, her sheep jumping fences: the magnificent horse in
all her fury. Tink and her surprising fondness for the crusty old man. He was
likeable. Drew. He was a different story: irresponsible, immature, cocky… the
list was endless. Today was a clear indication this place was screwing with her
head for her to think otherwise. Briefly she’d found herself very much aware of
him. Sooner Megan listed the ranch with a realtor, found a buyer, and got the
hell out of here the better. If she got aggressive she could possibly have a
signed offer within the week, then she could go home, and things would go back
to normal. She would forget Drew Mackenzie even existed.

She smiled.

Yes, forgetting him would be good.

Her eyes became heavy, heavier and heavier until she drifted off
for what felt like only minutes...

“Move over, sleeping beauty.” Drew’s face was less than an inch
away from Megan’s. His breath smelled like a bottle of Jack Daniels, sweet and
overpowering. “Daddy’s home,” he added, collapsing down on her side of the bed
and nearly missing the mattress all together. He barked with laughter, slid off
one boat shoe, threw it across the room, and then went for the other his boney
elbow coming down in the center of Megan’s back.

“Drew, seriously, I’m trying to sleep,” she squealed in pain.

“Yeah, well, I’m drunk, and finding it difficult to stay upright.”

Her foot rammed into his hip bone as she attempted to knock him
the rest of the way off the bed. “Tell me something that’s not obvious.”

He gave her a wicked grin, half stood holding on to the side of
the mattress for support, ducked pulling his shirt off over his head, and
dropped his cargo shorts. Slow as possible he crawled—wearing only his boxers—
over Megan’s rigid form to his side when he could have easily walked around.
“I’m also horny.” Evidence of his erection was purposely rocked against her on
his way over. He added, “but, that’s obvious too.”

She drew in a deep breath, confused by the excitement that coursed
through her body from his acknowledgement.

“Get off me! You are disgusting!” Not only did he smell like a
brewery, he also smelled like loud perfume. Thoughts of the way he’d kissed his
girlfriend earlier caused Megan’s stomach to go queasy. She felt her blood
begin to boil. The way he’d grabbed onto the girl as if he had to have her
right then, right outside the barn, no matter who was watching. Megan actually
felt like vomiting, her insides knotted as if he’d betrayed her in some way,
which was ridiculous.

A few glimpses of an actual caring guy under all the sexual
innuendos and she was already feeling herself swayed into believing he had an
actual heart beating somewhere inside him. And she was jealous of his
girlfriend! Good Lord, his closeness was driving her insane.

What was this unpredictable attraction, and curiosity, and more
importantly where had it come from. Her sick need to fix someone broken? Wasn’t
that what girls went for—losers they could try to change? No. Megan had never
been attracted to those types. Why would she want someone she couldn’t find one
admirable quality in from the start? Drew was his father. No one could change
that, not even Ms. Florida who probably wasn’t even aware her boyfriend was
trying to get into her bed after no more than an hour after being away from
her.

Megan scooted over so she was on the very edge of the mattress,
giving him her back as he settled in under the covers. Drew slid over until his
body molded her backside. His long fingers curled around her hipbone, digging
“possessively” into her flesh as his breath hit the back of her neck. Heaven
help her, they were spooning! Goosebumps covered her entire body from his
warmth.

“What are you doing?” Megan snapped, looking over her shoulder at
him.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m getting comfortable.”

“Not there, you’re not. Move over to your side.”

“It’s cold over there.”

“I don’t care if you freeze to death. You’re not sleeping up against
me.”

He was quiet for what seemed like forever. Naïve, Megan actually
thought he was considering moving over, but needed extra time because of all
the alcohol he’d consumed. Either that or he’d passed out. If that was the
case, she’d just roll him over in a few minutes, no harm done. But then she
felt his wet lips in the curve of her neck, gently, making a slow searing path
towards her sensitive earlobes. If that wasn’t bad enough, his tongue retraced
the path his lips had taken. His teeth nipped and pulled at her flesh, as his
arms tightened around her waist. Her skin felt on fire. Involuntarily, her eyes
closed as she felt tingles spread throughout her entire body making her toes
curl, and moisture to pool in places it shouldn’t.

“Drew…”

“Shh…” his hand disappeared up under the fabric of her T-shirt,
stopped before it reached its destination—her aching-to-be-touched
breast—changing directions headed south. He got a hand down the front of her
softie shorts, his fingers finding her slick heat when Megan elbowed him hard
in the gut. “Ow….what was that for?”

She shot a ‘do you even need to ask’
back at him. “I’m not
having sex with you.”

“Why not, you know you want me to fuck you. I saw the way you
looked at me earlier today. You were wishing you were her. Admit it…” was
whispered into her ear.

“Oh my God, you have got such a huge head! You made out with your
girlfriend with me standing there. It was rude. Awkward. If I was “looking” at
you in any way; it was because I was on the verge of puking from disgust.”

He rose up on an elbow. “How do you know how big my head is,
unless you let me show you? And she’s not my girlfriend… just somebody I have
sex with.”

Rolling to her back she stared up at him, her gaze tightening. Was
he serious? The moon’s rays lit the room enough for her to gage the play of
emotion on his face, or lack of. How can someone, so caring one minute, be so
vulgar the next? “Do you hear yourself? How big of an ass you sound like?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “It’s what I’ve been around my whole life.
My father’s on wife number seven, because of his inability to keep his dick in
his pants. It runs in the family. What did you expect? A fucking boy scout? I
don’t do the talking thing well, but where I lack in communication skills, I
make up for in other areas. It’s not something you can explain, I’ll have to
show you.”

Without warning, his lips came down over hers. Megan’s palms went
to his chest in an attempt to push him off of her. It was a weak futile effort.
She was starting to wonder if she wanted him off her. Less than a week, and
she’d already been attacked by two different guys. “Mauled” her mother had
called it. A girl had needs too, there was a warm, sexy-as-hell guy in her bed,
willing, and kissing her like he wanted to consume her before she melted away.

Megan had had sex only twice in her life: once with a guy friend
that was no longer a friend… a mistake, one that caused her dearly. And the
other time was with a guy that was known for his inability to maintain a relationship
with one girl at a time, much like Drew. Plenty other guys had tried, in fact
Megan hadn’t met one yet that hadn’t, but that didn’t mean she had to say yes.

“Stop, Drew,” she begged tight lipped. “Isn’t one girl a night
enough?”

“She was the appetizer. I have a feeling fucking you will be more
like desert.” His hands were everywhere: hitching her leg up on his hip, up her
shirt, on her round bottom… Megan lay rigid, unresponsive, while he attempted
something similar to a kiss. His erection pressed against her center, rubbing
the exact spot that just did it for her.

Four days ago she would have never believed she’d be in this bed.
His bed. Drew was like nothing that she wanted, yet if she allowed herself to
admit it; he was all she wanted at the present moment. Her mind became cloudy
with need, her resolve softening. The more he touched her, the more she began
to feel.

When his teeth caught her bottom lip… Megan was done for,
shivering from the inside out giving in with a moan. Her head rose up off the
pillow as she chased his lips wanting more of him. He tasted so incredible a
taste she was afraid would haunt her long after this night: like hot smoldering
lava, and that’s what he made her feel like, hot liquid melting in his hands,
as their tongue’s feverishly explored each other’s mouths. Greedy. Hungry. His
kisses were anything, but “neat”. He teased her with his mouth until she called
out his name. Her legs hooked around his waist of their own accord, her hips
rising and meeting his every slow grind against her center. Her body arched,
her eye’s going closed.

Good Lord, had she ever felt this way before? No, if she had, she
would have become a sexual deviant, instead of someone just mildly interested.
He was taking her to new levels of desire and she knew it with every fiber of
her being. Clothes. Clothes needed to come off, and fast!

“Get these off. I want to touch you, all of you,” she groaned
pawing at his tented boxer. She expected him to happily obey, hopefully helping
tear her clothes off as well. What drunk guy wouldn’t? Possess. Take. Claim. He
was so hot. How had she not seen it that very first day when he stood half
naked before her slick with sweat?

“Hurry Drew, I’ve got to have you inside me...” she couldn’t
believe she’d said it, but all the same it was the truth and it was out there.

He froze over her, and his hooded eyes landed on hers, filled with
agony and desire. Desire she understood, because she felt it too. The agony
part was what was confusing.

*****

Megan’s blue eyes stared up at him with intense longing. Shit, she
was beautiful making this so much more difficult. Her bottom lip stuck out
making him wish he could have one more quick taste, before she went back to
hating him. She frowned turning her beautiful mouth down. “What is it? Why did
you suddenly go cold?” Her hands went up to his arms, which were covered in
goose bumps and bracing him up. “Drew, you’re trembling. Is it the alcohol? Are
you sick?”