Until I Break (30 page)

But then she pauses. For a split second, I
see her hesitate. She’s trying not to show that she’s unsure of
herself, of what she’s doing.

I stare down into those liquid eyes. I don’t
want her to stop. I want to feel her hands on my skin. So I taunt
her, hoping to feed the feline that I’d be willing to bet is buried
somewhere down deep.

“Oh, come on. Is that all you got?” I
whisper.

Her eyes bore into mine and I hold my breath,
waiting to see which side will win. In fascination, I watch as the
balance of power shifts and the change is reflected in her eyes.
They get a little brighter, a little feistier. I’ve never actually
seen
someone muster courage. Determination. Something in
this girl refuses to give in, to back down. She’s rising to the
challenge. And it’s hot as hell.

She keeps her eyes on mine as she starts to
pull up my shirt. She leans in closer and I get a whiff of her
perfume. It’s sweet and a little musky. Sexy. Just like her.

She has to plaster her body to mine and
stretch up on her tiptoes to get my shirt over my head. I can feel
her breasts pushing against my chest. I could make the task easier
for her. But I don’t. I like the feel of her rubbing against me.
There’s no way I’m ruining that.

Once she has my shirt off, she backs up and
looks me over. She’s shy about it. That much is obvious. It’s like
she wants to look, but she’s a little embarrassed to, which
actually makes it more of a turn on for some reason. I’m sure every
other eye in the room is watching me, watching
us
, but hers
are the only ones I can feel. They’re like tongues of fire, licking
my skin. They’re searing and tangible. Or at least they feel that
way to me.

I take a deep breath and her eyes drop to my
stomach. Then they flicker down a little further. She stares longer
than she should, but not nearly as long as I want her to.

I start to get hard.

Her eyes widen and her lips fall open just
enough for her tongue to sneak out and wet them. I have to grit my
teeth to keep from pulling her to me and kissing that lush little
mouth of hers.

Then light pours into the room. It’s just
enough to break the spell.

I hear a man’s voice. A very pissed-off man’s
voice.

“Dude, what the hell?” It’s Jason. I know why
he’s angry.

It’s not easy to tear my eyes away from hers.
There’s a shy, reluctant excitement in them that makes me want to
see how far I can push her. But I don’t. Push her, that is.
Instead, I look away, turning my head to glance first at Jason and
then at the room of salivating females. The jig is up.

Damn. That was shaping up to be quite a
diversion.

I smile into the group of faces riveted on
me. “Ladies, this is Jason. He’ll be entertaining you tonight.”

All eyes turn to Jason as he closes the door
and moves around me. I look at the girl that’s holding my shirt.
She’s perplexed. And for good reason.

“What do you mean, he’ll be entertaining us?”
she asks, turning her confused eyes on me.

I don’t answer her right away. I know she’ll
figure it out soon enough.

She looks over at Jason, trying to piece
together what just happened.

“Now, which one of you beautiful women is the
bride-to-be?” Jason asks.

I see it the instant understanding dawns. Her
eyes widen again and, even in the low light, I see her cheeks turn
red.

She looks back to me and frowns.

“If he’s the stripper, then who are you?”

“I’m Cash Davenport. I own the club.”

Down to You is now available

Up to Me, book 2, is now available.

Everything for Us, book 3, releases
September 3, 2013

The Wild Ones

Passion as hot as midnight in the South and
love as wild as the horses they tame.

Camille “Cami” Hines is the darling daughter
of the South’s champion thoroughbred breeder, Jack Hines. She has a
pedigree that rivals some of her father’s best horses. Other than
feeling a little suffocated at times, Cami thought she was pretty
happy with her boyfriend, her life and her future.

But that was before she met Patrick
Henley.

“Trick” blurs the lines between what Cami
wants and what is expected of her. He’s considered the “help,”
which is forbidden fruit as far as her father is concerned, not to
mention that Trick would be fired if he ever laid a hand on her.
And Trick needs his job. Desperately. His family depends on
him.

The heart wants what the heart wants,
though, and Trick and Cami are drawn to each other despite the
obstacles. At least the ones they know of.

When Trick stumbles upon a note from his
father, it triggers a series of revelations that could ruin what he
and Cami have worked so hard to overcome. It turns out there’s more
to Trick’s presence at the ranch than either of them knew, secrets
that could tear them apart.

CHAPTER ONE- Cami

Sipping my beer, I look around at the
familiar scene. If the honky tonk music blaring from the speakers
in the ceiling hadn’t been enough to scream COUNTRY BAR, the sea of
cowboy hats would have been. I smile as I adjust the black one that
sits atop my own head. I love being incognito. Even if, by chance,
someone I know stumbles into the smoke-filled dive, they’d never
believe it was me looking out from beneath the brim.

Something hits the back of my
barstool—hard—just as I put the glass to my lips. Ice cold beer
pours down my chin and straight into my cleavage. I suck in a
breath.

“’Scuse me,” a deep voice rumbles in my ear.
Two hands grip my upper arms and pull me back, keeping me from
tipping right out of my seat. I’m looking down at my soggy jeans
and t-shirt when I feel the hands disappear. Half a second later, a
face appears in my line of sight. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

My fingers stop plucking wet cotton away
from my chest and I stare. Quite rudely, I might add. I’m
speechless. Literally. And that, like,
never
happens to
me.

The most amazing eyes I’ve ever seen are
staring back at me. They are pale greenish-gray, rimmed in sooty
lashes and filled with concern.

A sharp jab to my shin makes me let out the
breath I hadn’t been aware of holding. I see my best friend Jenna’s
head poke out from behind the mystery face. I know she kicked me
and I know she’s trying to get my attention, but I can’t look away
from these eyes long enough to glare at her.

God, his eyes! I’ve never seen eyes that
make me want to gasp and giggle and do a strip tease all at once.
But these do.

They flicker down, letting me go just long
enough to collect my wits. I find very few of them. They are well
and truly scattered. When he looks back up at me, his eyes are
wrinkled at the corners. He’s smiling. And holy hell, what a smile
it is!

“Does it make me a bad person for liking
your shirt better this way?”

I glance down at myself. My dark pink bra is
plainly visible through the now-wet paper thin material of my pale
pink shirt. So are my very erect nipples. I blush, mortified.

Why, oh why did I wear a light pink t-shirt
with a dark pink bra?

Because you can’t see your bra through it
when it’s dry, dumb ass
.

A thumb brushes my right cheek. “God, that’s
sexy,” he whispers. Against my will, my eyes fly to his face. His
smile has died to a lopsided grin that is devastation in its purest
form. “I’ve never made a girl blush before.”

I laugh nervously, struggling to find my
voice, to find my dignity. “Somehow I doubt that,” I say
softly.

“Wow! The hair of a devil, the face of an
angel and the voice of a phone sex operator. You really are the
perfect woman.”

To my utter humiliation, my cheeks burn even
hotter. Curse my fair skin!

Reaching into his pocket, Hot Stranger pulls
out a couple bills and slides them across the bar. “Another of
whatever…” He trails off, looking at me in question, waiting for me
to fill in the blank.

“Cami,” I say, trying to hold back my
grin.

Smooth way of getting my name. Chalk one up
for Hot Stranger.

“Another of whatever
Cami
is having.”
He turns back to me, a wicked gleam in his smoky eyes. “Sorry about
your drink. Not so much about your shirt, though,” he admits
candidly.

Willing myself not to blush again, I tilt my
head. “So, do clumsy strangers have names in this place? Or are you
just called ‘bull in china shop’?”

The lopsided grin comes back. “Patrick, but
my friends call me Trick.”

“Trick? As in trick or treat? That kind of
trick?”

He laughs and my stomach flutters. It
actually flutters. “Yep. That kind of trick.” He sobers and leans
in close to me. “Cami, can I ask a favor?”

I’m breathless again. He’s so close I can
count every hair in the stubble that dusts his tan cheeks. For just
a second, his clean manly scent overrides the cigarette smoke and
stale beer smell of the bar.

I lose my voice—again—so I nod.

“Pick ‘treat.’ Please, for the love of God,
pick ‘treat’.”

Like an idiot, I say nothing. I do nothing.
I simply stare. Like a…a…well, like an idiot.

He makes a disappointed noise with his lips
then starts shaking his head. “Too bad. Woulda made my night.”

He straightens, takes a step back and smiles
at me again. “Nice to meet you, Cami,” he says, and then he turns
and melts into the crowd.

********

“Earth to Cami!”

Tearing my gaze away from the
broad-shouldered, slim-hipped view of Trick walking away, I turn to
Jenna. “What?”

“Is that all you have to say? ‘What’?” She’s
grinning.

“What would you like me to say?” I’m still a
little addled. Or is it bedazzled?

“Um, I’d like to hear your plan for getting
your lame ass off that stool and going over there to collect on
that treat!”

“Eavesdrop much?”

“He was practically sitting in my lap while
he hit on you. What was I supposed to do?”

“Uh,
move!”

Jenna snorts. Not a great sound, but somehow
she makes it seem cute and girlie. “And miss that view? I was all
but catatonic just looking at him. He is seven kinds of hot,
Cam!”

I giggle. “Listen to you. You’ve got a
boyfriend. Or have you conveniently forgotten that we are meeting
people here?”

“I haven’t forgotten. Have you?”

I nod at her. “Touché, pussycat.”

In truth, I had. From the time I’d looked up
into Trick’s eyes, I hadn’t thought of Brent one time. And that
can’t be a good sign. Brent has
never
made me feel what this
guy has in three minutes.

“Meh,” she says, waving her hand
dismissively as she sips her own beer. “Don’t give it a second
thought. Looking at him is kinda like staring at the sun. You see
spots and you’re dizzy for a while, but then it goes away.”

I wonder to myself if I really
want
it to go away. I can’t ever remember a guy making me feel this
way.

I can’t stop myself from looking into the
crowd again. I scan the endless ocean of hats until my gaze stops
on one dark head. The hair is longish and has a slight wave to it.
I know without having to see his face that it’s Trick. It just
seems right that he’d be the only guy in the place not wearing a
cowboy hat.

Almost like he can feel my eyes or my
thoughts on him, Trick turns around. His gaze locks with mine like
there isn’t a room full of people between us. We stare at each
other for a few seconds and then, real slow, he grins.

Good God, he has dimples! I might die!

Right on cue, my cheeks get hot. Here we go
again.

His grin widens into a smile and he winks at
me. I’m pretty sure my toes are numb. I watch him turn away. Before
his head completely disappears, I consider what Jenna said. Maybe I
should go and ask for the treat…

I jump when I feel fingers at my neck,
brushing my hair back. “You looking for me?”

I recognize the voice. It’s Brent. I sigh.
It’s not right that I should feel a little disappointed. But I do.
The time for me to be reckless has past. The door of opportunity
has officially been closed. By Brent.

I turn on my stool. I smile up into the face
of Brent Thomason, my quasi-boyfriend.

Brent is no slob in the looks department.
His sandy hair has that purposefully messy look and his dark brown
eyes have an exotic tilt I’ve always found very appealing. But even
as I stare into them, I’m picturing smoky greenish-gray ones.

“Were you looking for me?” he asks
again.

I dodge the question, playfully poking him
in the chest. “You’re late!”

“I can’t be
too
perfect. Gotta keep a
girl like you on her toes.” He kisses the tip of my nose and then
brushes my lips with his.

“Did you get the ‘Vette running?” I ask,
leaning back.

“No. That’s why I’m late. I just talked to
the guy that was supposed to take a look at it for me. Since I
couldn’t even get it here, he agreed to look at it tomorrow night
instead. I’ll get it out there even if I have to have it towed,” he
growls in determination.

As usual, I find Brent’s passion about his
car a little bit of a turn on. One of my father’s obsessions is
vintage cars. We have a garage full of them and I know enough about
them to talk like I’ve got some sense.

“Out where?”

He shrugs. “Eh, some sort of field thing.
You know how country people are.”

I feel my frown, but can’t stop it. I know
Brent doesn’t really mean anything by the comment, but it still
bothers me. Unlike most of my friends, I know what life without
money looks like, feels like. Granted, it was a long time ago, but
some things a girl never forgets.