Willow Smoke (60 page)

“Yeah. I won’t be part
of something I can’t
interfere
with
if I’m putting up the
dollars.
So
you
see,
you’re
worth
every
percentage
point
you
have
in
a
horse.”

She
opened
her
mouth
to
speak.
He
pressed
a
finger
against
her
lips.
“You’re
my
ticket
to
knowledge
about
this
business.
You
protect me from getting duped.” He
sighed
deeply.
“Oh
hell.
I
concede
to
your desire
to
lower
your
percentage
of
ownership in future purchases, but are you aware that I’m not buying
your favors
by
including
you
in
this
horse
partnership?”

“My favors,” she said.
Was it her
heartbeat
or
his
that
sounded
like
dynamite
exploding?
She’d
pled
her
case
and
he’d
listened.
How
many
men
would
do
that?
A part of her warmed, recognizing the truth
of his words. He wasn’t trying to trap
her.
Hopefully,
she’d
feel
less
trapped.
But
she
still
wanted
him
to
spell
it
out,
so
she
gave
him
a
quizzical
frown.

“Favors.
You
know.
Shit.
Maybe
there
is
something
to
generational
differences.
Dammit,
I’m
not
buying
you
horses
so
you’ll
have
sex
with
me.”

Daisy giggled. “I never
thought you were. I thought you were after more than sex. That’s what scared
me.”

Nick
turned
several
shades
of
purple.
He
opened
his
mouth
to
speak
and
then
snapped
it
shut.
Whatever
he
wanted
to
say
went
unsaid.
She
expected
that
was
best. She knew
they needed to talk, but not
about
everything.
Not
all
at
once.
She
wanted
more
time
with
him,
much more time.

“Speaking
of
favors,”
she
whispered,
huskily,
“I’m
kind
of
in
the
mood
for
distributing favors, if you’re receptive.”

“Oh,
I
think
I
can
be
talked
into
that.”
He
lifted
her
chin
with
a
finger.
“You
know
you
can
be
quite
the
salesperson
when
you
want
to
be.
I
thought
that’s
what
I
brought to this partnership.”

Daisy
leaned
forward
and
brushed
her
lips
lightly
across his. “As part of the
younger
generation,
I’m
still
learning
and
developing.”
She
took
a
step
back
from
him,
untied
the
knot
at
her
waist
and
shrugged
her
shoulders.
Her
robe
pooled
at
her feet. “So what
do you think, partner? If I’m getting less money, I’ll need more
loving
to
keep
everything
equal.”

- o -

“Now why didn’t I think
of that,” Nick
said
gruffly,
pulling
Daisy
into
his
arms.

His spirits soared. He
hadn’t lost her.
They’d
weathered
the
storm.
Daisy
slid
a
hand
inside
his
robe
and
ran
her
fingers
down
his
spine
to
his
buttocks.
He
crushed
his
mouth
against
hers.
The
pent
up
sparks
that
had
separated
them
now
joined
them.

She
broke
their
kiss
and
led
him
toward
the
king
sized
bed.
His
robe
joined
hers
on
the
floor.

Quickly,
she
became
the
aggressor.
He
did
nothing
to
dissuade
her.
She
wanted
him; that was all that mattered. He
watched
her
corn
silk
hair
bobbing
between
his
legs.
Her
warmth
threatened
to
undo
him.

She
stopped.
“Damn
girl,
are
you
trying
to
kill
me?”
He
lifted
his
pelvis,
pleading
for
more.

She
ignored
his
pleas
and
dropped
him
from
her
mouth.
Bereft,
Nick
shut
his
eyes
and
tried
not
to
swear.
She
was
in
charge, and
that was
the
way
it
should
be.
She
moved
to
straddle
him.
He
opened
his
eyes
to meet her smoky stare. With her
eyes
locked
on
his,
she
slid
forward
and
lowered
herself
onto
the
tip
of
his
shaft.
There
she
remained
suspended—attached
but
aloof.
She
tossed
her
head
from
side
to
side
and
her
blond
hair
flew
about
like
a
child’s
kite
on
the
end
of
string.
Never
taking
her
eyes
off
his,
she
toyed
with
a
nipple
of
one
breast
and
then
the
other.
When
had
she
become
such
an
accomplished
tease?

Nick
used
every
ounce
of
self-control
available
not
to
grab
her
hips
and
seat
himself
firmly
in
her
liquid
chamber.
She
was
ready;
her
moisture
dripped
his entire
length.
Yet
she
waited,
boldly
challenging
him to take over. He refused to do so.

She
fluffed
the
curls
at
the
top
of
her
mound.
She
flicked
her
tongue
at
him.
He
could
feel
her
fingers
touching
her,
touching
him.
He
loved
to
watch
her
discover
her
own
responses
as
well
as
his.
Her
breathing
became
shallow;
she
gnawed
on
her
lower
lip.
Nick
waited,
trying
not
to
twitch
a
muscle.
The
pantomime
unfolding
before
him
was
too
precious
to
disturb.
Daisy’s
eyes
drifted
shut;
he
was
sure
she
couldn’t
wait
much
longer.

And
then
as
if
at
last
gravity
prevailed,
she
slammed
to
his
groin
and
swiftly
rose
and
fell
until
her
mouth
contorted.
Clearly s
he
was
in
that
place
where
pain
and
joy
joined
into
a
kind
of
holy
ecstasy.
She
whimpered
and
leaned
forward,
clasping
the
hair
on
his
chest,
running
her
tongue
along
the
crease
of
his
neck.