Secret Confessions: Down & Dusty — Clarissa (2 page)

Brandon shrugged. ‘Guess I ride horses more than women these days.’

Adam smirked. ‘I ride bulls, doesn’t stop me with the women.’

Clarissa’s mouth dried and her hand fluttered to her throat as her mind filled with a whole erotic book of dirty thoughts. Flaming hell, she really
did
need to get laid.

Brandon’s frown encompassed her too, as though he’d been witness to her naughty daydream. But the hand he swept out was for Adam alone. ‘As you can see, there aren’t any groupies out here.’

Adam turned to Clarissa and sent her a wink. ‘True. But as far as I’m aware, there is one very available lady.’

Clarissa gasped. After a long drought inside her bedroom as much as out, Adam’s frankness was an adrenaline shot in the arm. She craved the physical and emotional connection of two bodies joining, skin on skin. Needs that were amplified by the testosterone pressing in on her from all sides.

Brandon didn’t see it that way. His hands fisted at his sides and he stepped closer to Adam, a muscle in his jaw ticking. ‘She’s nothing to you other than your boss. Leave her the hell alone.’

Clarissa’s stare narrowed. Why was Brandon pulling the knight in shining armour routine on her now? He’d never reacted negatively to another man’s interest in her before.

Maybe because I’ve never been interested in return?

Adam put his hands up. ‘Whoa, easy, mate. We’ve never fought over a woman before, even one as lovely as Clarissa, and I’m not planning to start now.’

Brandon stepped back and blew out a slow breath. ‘Fuck. Sorry.’ He shook his head as if clearing it. ‘I’m just … she’s been through hell and back these last twelve months.’

Adam’s eyes cleared before he pressed a hand to his bare head. ‘Jesus, Brandon, why haven’t you two—’

‘Don’t,’ Brandon said with quiet authority. ‘Not now.’

Clarissa hardly dared breathe. These men were like two stallions in their prime fighting over the same mare. It was enough to make her head swim with hope and her pussy moisten with anticipation.

‘So when is the right time?’ Adam countered.

‘When Clarissa damn well says it is!’

Clarissa put a hand on Brandon’s upper arm, not even bothering to pretend indifference to his warmth and strength. She could all but feel the passion throbbing through his veins, see it in his intense dark stare.

Her belly fluttered. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t been alone in her yearnings. Couldn’t believe it’d taken another man’s interest in her to learn the truth. She swallowed past the boulder in her throat. ‘I think it’s time you both chilled out over an icy-cold beer.’

Brandon nodded and she released his arm and dragged her stare away from his to once again feast on Adam. ‘Brandon will show you to the stockmen’s quarters.’ She glanced at the Harley’s saddlebags. ‘I’m sure you have a few personal possessions you’d like to put away.’

Adam shrugged, reverting to carefree and casual. ‘What can I say, I travel light.’

She nodded, both relieved and oddly disappointed at how quickly things had returned to normal. ‘I’ll see you both at the house in half an hour.’

***

Boot treads on the verandah stairs and the creak of the front screen door gave Clarissa plenty of warning that Brandon and Adam were once again about to assault her senses. She only hoped she’d be better able to handle herself this time around.

Talk about wishful thinking.

The moment they entered her kitchen, her pulse thudded a frantic beat in her ears and her mouth dried to arid proportions. Both men had showered and changed, and they looked fresh and almost a little … impatient. They were hatless—their hair still damp from a shower—and in worn blue jeans and tees. Brandon in green and Adam in flecked grey.

Damn, they were a wet-dream come to life.

As they each took a cane stool at the kitchen countertop, she dragged her stare away to open the refrigerator door and grab a trio of beers. ‘I hope full strength is okay?’

Adam accepted his with a nod. ‘It hasn’t killed me yet.’

She tilted her head to one side. ‘I’m betting a bull might have come close, though?’

He took a swig of his beer and sighed with enjoyment before he admitted, ‘Yes. More than a few times.’ He grinned. ‘Half a dozen fractures, three concussions, spinal trauma and a broken leg. But every second of pain was worth it for the rush of adrenaline alone. And then there was the cash prize and prestige at the end.’

‘Not to mention the willing women,’ Brandon drawled without heat.

She exhaled slowly, her whole body unwinding. Whatever the trouble that had brewed between them, it looked to be resolved, or at least met grudgingly halfway.

‘So your bull riding days are over?’ she asked Adam.

He looked at her over the top of his beer, the blue of his eyes warming like flame. ‘Despite my body’s many injuries, quitting isn’t a part of my genetic makeup … at least, not until I find someone worth dragging me away from the sport.’

Her pulse skipped a beat. Holy crap. Was he actually considering her as a suitable candidate?

Warmth rose in her face even as she mentally shook her head. Idiot! They hardly knew one another’s name, let alone any possibility of happy-ever-afters. Besides, Brandon had always been the one to fill her daydreams—even before the loneliness of being a widow had crept in.

It had to be Adam’s brazen charm that set something off inside her.

She gulped back a mouthful of her beer, barely tasting its yeasty coldness. Adam and Brandon were chalk and cheese, and yet she was attracted to each of them in different ways. Little wonder. Her body was as highly-strung as a wild brumby’s, and it would take more than one set of capable hands to rein her in.

She sucked in a startled breath. What the hell was she thinking? Surely she wasn’t
that
sex-starved?

‘You okay?’ Adam drawled with a half-smile.

She nodded. ‘Fine, thank you.’

Liar!

Her stare collided with Brandon’s dark eyes and something within melted a little. He was her security and her refuge, and she was certain he’d be that and a whole lot more inside the bedroom. Adam, on the other hand, probably had half a dozen women tucked away in every township the rodeo took him. His experience alone meant he’d know exactly how to please.

Adam took a swig of his beer, though he too seemed to be watching her every move. ‘Brandon told me the station cook is out with the stockmen.’

‘Yes.’ She sighed. ‘Cooking isn’t my strong point, so I hope you’re not expecting your first night to be something memorable.’

Brandon winked and nodded. ‘Unless “memorable” includes burnt toast and cold baked beans.’

Clarissa shook her head. ‘You’ll never let me live that one down!’

Brandon grinned. ‘Not for as long as I draw breath.’

Adam set the bottle onto the countertop. ‘Hey, I won a shitload of cash, why don’t we eat out tonight? My treat.’

Clarissa frowned. She could only imagine what the publican, Lucky, would say when she saw her walk in for dinner with these two men as escorts. Holy smokes, she mightn’t ever look Lucky in the eye again, not with the wicked thoughts that had been going through her head. And the publican always had been too good at reading her mind.

Lucky wasn’t just her confidante, she’d become her friend too. Clarissa saw beneath the publican’s tough brashness to the gentle soul beneath, in just the same way Lucky had seen how much Clarissa and Dean had drifted apart before his accident.

Brandon grinned at his friend. ‘You know me, mate, I won’t ever say no to a free meal. Especially if you’re buying.’

When two sets of eyes met hers, there was no way she was going to disagree. ‘Sure. Why not.’ She placed her beer down. ‘I’ll drive.’

Brandon put his half-empty bottle beside hers. ‘No way.’ He sent his friend a knowing glance before facing her again. ‘It’s your turn to relax tonight. If Adam’s buying, I’m driving.’

Damn it was nice not to be the one giving orders. Ignoring the curl of need deep inside her womb, she nodded. ‘Fine. Just give me ten minutes to shower and change.’

Adam’s smile was lazily amused. ‘Let us know if you need a hand.’

The goosebumps that cascaded over her body weren’t from dread. She wanted to be the woman demanding they did exactly that. Instead she was the woman running upstairs and into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She was the woman stepping under freezing cold needles of water to get her overheated body under some semblance of control.

***

Clarissa barely noticed the wide sweep of the Royal’s wraparound verandah, or how uniformly the half-dozen utes and four-wheel-drives were parked in front of it. She was too busy floating on air as she stepped through the sliding glass door and inside the Royal Hotel, Brandon on one side of her and Adam on the other.

She pulled in a steadying breath, wondering not for the hundredth time if she’d ever felt so sexy and beautiful. Certainly when the two men had spied her platinum-blonde hair worn loose to her shoulders and dressed in a flaxen-coloured dress that hugged her curves and accentuated her breasts, their whistles of approval had boosted her confidence way past normal.

Even without the three-inch heels of her thigh-high boots, and between two men who stood head and shoulders taller than most of the men in Milpinyani, she felt ten feet tall and as though she was walking on air.

Lucky’s dark eyebrows arched over her sapphire eyes, her usual efficiency behind the bar for once on hold as she stared at the trio entering her pub.

Brandon nodded at the publican and murmured smoothly, ‘Lucky.’

It appeared to drag Lucky from her trance when she said, ‘Brandon,’ in return, before asking, ‘What are you having?’

Brandon smiled. ‘A beer for my friend Adam.’ He turned to Clarissa. ‘And for our dinner date tonight, I was thinking of something sparkling and sweet.’

Our
dinner date?

Clarissa inwardly reeled. Brandon had all but publicly announced she was something more than the woman who signed his pay cheque every fortnight. A woman who evidently hadn’t stopped at one gorgeous man. It was damn lucky the hotel had very few patrons tonight after a full-on rodeo weekend.

Still, Lucky’s eyes popped wide open, before she visibly pulled herself back to together with a twitch of her lips. ‘Great choice. And what about for yourself?’

‘A Coke will be fine. I’m driving.’

The publican nodded, her lips curling into a real smile when she said, ‘Such a responsible, dependable man. I always say you’ll make a fine husband one day.’

Clarissa smothered a sigh. Lucky liked to harp on about all the lip-smacking testosterone on her station going to waste. And now with Brandon’s ‘dinner date’ comment, she was certain Lucky would go on ten times harder.

Adam nodded at Lucky as she handed him a frothing beer. ‘Ma’am.’

Lucky eyed the man with something between distrust and sharp interest. ‘Fuck me, a real-life gentleman. I don’t believe we’ve met.’

‘Then you’d probably be right,’ Adam said easily.

Clarissa added, ‘Unless you love the rodeo.’

Sincere curiosity lit up Lucky’s stare, highlighting the glossy brown of her hair pulled back into its usual ponytail. ‘Who doesn’t love the rodeo? Best time of the year.’ She gave Adam a suggestive wink as she pulled a pot of beer.

The local copper sitting further along the bar sent them a dirty look.

Interesting. Was there something Lucky wasn’t telling her? Come to think of it, the publican had a special glow about her tonight, a just-fucked look that Clarissa was especially attuned to right then.

Adam chuckled, drawing Clarissa’s attention back to him. The bull rider gave Lucky a lazy shrug. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’

Lucky turned to her huge glass-fronted fridge and selected a bottle of champagne, answering over her shoulder, ‘Huh. I doubt you’d take it any other way.’

If anything, Adam looked amused. ‘Guilty on all counts.’

Pouring the champagne into a flute, and using the Coke-on-tap to fill a glass, Lucky put their drinks onto the runner of a polished wooden bar and asked Adam, ‘I’m guessing you’re the hot-shot bull rider who won the purse?’

Adam’s smile widened. ‘I guess word travels fast.’

She shrugged. ‘And I guess you probably don’t stick around long enough to hear small town gossip.’

‘That looks to change now.’ He winked. ‘I’m here to fix whatever Clarissa needs fixing.’

Clarissa smoothed her hair back with an unsteady hand, astute enough to know exactly how her friend would interpret Adam’s response.

As predicted, Lucky smirked. ‘And I reckon you’re just the man for the job.’ The publican glanced toward Brandon. She cleared her throat and said decisively, ‘Correction.
Men
for the job.’

The men didn’t deny or even add anything further to the discussion and Clarissa inwardly fluctuated between outrage and a growing hunger that was wholly unrelated to food. Brandon paid for their drinks and the three of them moved away from the bar’s constant activity and noise, and into the quiet of the dining room.

She couldn’t help but smile and relax a little when both men pulled out a different chair for her at a small, intimate table, where a large pot plant shielded them from two other couples who were already eating.

‘This one,’ she quipped, helping herself to the only other seat the men hadn’t offered her.

As the men took their own chairs, she took a big sip of her champagne, the bubbles tickling her nose and filling her with even more warmth.

‘So what’s the grub like here?’ asked Adam.

Clarissa handed him a menu from the middle of the table. ‘It’s good, wholesome food. I already know what I want.’

Lucky wouldn’t even need to write down her order. Clarissa had been a regular at the hotel for many years and loved the beef and lamb lasagne with steak fries and coleslaw. She only hoped Casey, the station cook who Lucky had procured for the rodeo weekend, was still cooking in the hotel’s kitchen. She’d heard nothing but good things about Casey’s skills.

Adam winked. ‘I think it’s a safe bet to say Brandon and I already know what we want too, and food isn’t at the top of the list.’