Burn for Cowboy (Stampede Sizzlers) Page 6

  He held his breath. She zipped by a little girl holding her mother’s hand, did a little hop then was skating backwards. His heart slowed in his chest when she looked over her shoulder and aimed for the empty center. Her right leg inched up as she glided. It swung back then she was flying. Not high, but she was up.

  He smiled as she spun one and a half times, arms tucked against her chest, hair flaring out. She landed with a tiny wobble, her hand massaging her thigh. The toe pick was planted into the ice and she turned.

  There you are, he thought as those soft dove grey eyes met his.

  He stood and walked down the bleachers while she slowly skated toward him. He didn’t like the way she was massaging her thigh. It meant she had been out there too long, and she over-extended herself. Her cheeks were flushed from the cool air and the exertion. Her eyes still looked sad. Damn it. He wanted the smile back in them.

  The boards around the rink separated them. “Are you leaving me?”

  Her question hit him in the solar plexus like a body check. He rested his forearms on the smooth wood so they were eye level. “No. Were you listening to me before the sun came up this morning?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “What did I say?”

  A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away. “That you wouldn’t walk away.”

  Reaching out, he cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing her lips that were cool from the air conditioning. “Start believing, Meri. Is ice therapy over, or are you going to punish your leg a little bit more?”

  She blushed and he wondered how long she’d been out on the ice. While she glided to the exit, he walked beside her. There was no hesitation when she took his hand and let him guide her over the padded floor to sit. Crouching down, he unlaced the skates.

  “I owe you an apology,” he said, cupping her calf as he tugged her skate off with his left hand.

  “You do? Why?”

  “Apparently I’m possessive when it comes to you and that makes me a little irrational at times.” Leaning down, he pressed his mouth against the denim covering her thigh. Even through the fabric he felt the abused muscles twitching and tightening. “Now, where are your shoes?”

  She pointed down the bench and he retrieved her sandals with the phone tucked in the toes. He eased the shoes in place, sliding her phone and MP3 player in his back pocket. After hooking the blades over his fingers, he scooped her up.

  It was time to take her back to the hotel and do what he had failed to do last night – look after her.

  ****

  Meri stretched out on the sofa, her head resting on Mike’s thigh while he watched everything he had missed at the rodeo. The masseuse he had requested had just left and he had a very relaxed woman on his hands. Room service was on its way up to continue the quiet night in. A commercial came on and he glanced down at Meri, her eyes shut as she napped.

  Instead of the hotel robe, she wore one of his shirts. There was possessive satisfaction when she did that. Of course, he’d rather have her naked. He’d also rather be home.

  Gently, he brushed the hair from her cheek then tickled her neck. Her shoulder rose to stop him. A half-hearted swipe at his hand and she brushed her face along his leg as if that would make him stop. Reaching down, he popped open the two buttons between her breasts. By the time he peeled the light blue fabric aside, her nipples were hard. “Faker.”

  He teased the tip, enjoying the shape of her small, round breasts. She had perfect tits. They drowned in his palm and looked exquisite when he was torturing them. “If you keep faking it, I’m going to stop,” he warned. He rolled one nipple between his fingers hard enough that he saw her stomach tighten. Her eyes opened then closed. He pinched and pulled on the swollen tip.

  She arched up as a pleasure-pain sound came from her. The ads were over and it was time to pay attention again. Pity. Watching Meri was far more entertaining then some dull rodeo. Cowboys eating dust were nothing compared to her. Reaching down, he took one hand that rested over his thigh. He drew her finger into his mouth as the announcer went on and on about the next guy’s family’s legacy. Luke O’Connor. He already knew the kid’s past. His dad used to ride bulls. O’Connor would also spend occasional summers visiting a farm neighboring Mike’s parents so he had hung out with the twins. Mike’s memories were hazy of the kid. But Mike had recognized O’Connor’s name and bio listed in the bareback bronc riders. He wondered how the boy who had run wild with the younger Rossi boys would measure up to the past glory of his father.

  Mike lowered her hand between her legs and circled her finger over the piercing. She cried out, writhing beneath the slow caress. His hand returned to her breast while his left hand reached for his pen. A black cowboy hat was pulled low over Luke’s eyes and his fingers flexed out before, one at a time, he gripped the strap on the bronc’s shoulders. An abrupt nod and the chute opened. While Mike teased Meri with hard pinches, gentle caresses and sharp tugs, he watched the ride. Luke had eight seconds to stay on, keeping one arm above him.

  Insane, Mike thought. Who the hell would do that? For fun! Give him skates and ice any time instead of some heavy, pissed off horse that could kick his head inside out. The hat disappeared and just like that Luke’s ride was over. He made a note of the time, marked the horse and turned his attention to Meri. Her other hand gripped his thigh as she arched and twitched, her hand sliding wickedly against her bare pussy. Sweet, he thought. She gave little tugs on the silver ball. Her lips parted and she arched up, her hips jerking. She was so sexy when she came, lost in the pleasure. And when pain was involved…well that took his breath away. “Harder.”

  His gaze flicked to the screen, saw it was someone he had already discounted from going all the way and returned to the live show. Her fingers slick with her arousal pinched the sensitive flesh around the ball.

  “Harder. Until it hurts in your hair, little love.”

  Her eyes snapped open but he knew she didn’t see him. Her toes curled into the fake leather as she bent her legs, her back bowing up and up. He caressed over the smooth arch of her stomach and covered her fingers to tighten the vise. A scream escaped and she came, her body twitching with pleasure. Mike leaned down and licked the warm cream trickling from her. Sweet. Sensual. Erotic. All that Meri was. He gripped her ankles, holding her open for him. Damp fingers curled into his neck and she began to respond against him.

  Her second orgasm pulsed through her and over his tongue, and she cried out his name, begging him to fuck her. Oh he liked that.

  Instead he kissed her sore thigh and shifted above her. Her cheeks were flushed and glistened with sweat. “Dinner is here. Why don’t you let him in?”

  “What?”

  “That’s not your heart knocking, little love. That’s dinner.” He caressed up her belly. “Let him in.”

  She lay there, panting then slowly she sat up. Her hands shook too much to do up the buttons so he eased her between his legs to do so. She looked like someone who had just come twice and was ready to be fucked hard. Her nipples pressed against the shirt, her eyes were glassy and she smelled better than any dinner. He slapped her ass and she slowly made her way to the door.

  She favored her leg but mostly the trouble was because he had just made her come twice and her legs were, no doubt, a little shaky. That made him smile and he returned to watching the rodeo. The waiter who followed Meri in clearly knew what had been going on since he was eying her up like she was his own personal cupcake.

  Mike stared at the waiter, envisioning body parts being slowly and painfully removed. When Meri fidgeted with the edge of his shirt, trying to hide her scar, Mike had enough. Any arousal that had been in her was gone thanks to the man leering at her. He held out his hand to her. “No to this,” he said in a low voice, stilling her fingers pulling on his shirt. “Set that down right there,” he ordered and he tugged her hand. She settled down on his thigh, fingers making sure all the buttons were done up.

  He held out his other hand for the bill, his atten
tion never wavering from Meri. “Did he say anything, little love?” Dark lashes lifted and she met his gaze.

  “No.” She looked embarrassed as if she had been caught doing something she should feel ashamed of.

  “Did he do anything?” The man shifted, waiting for Mike to sign the bill. The waiter would wait until Mike didn’t want to punch his face into the next room.

  Her head shook negatively.

  “But clearly something happened.” He stopped her hand from tugging on the shirt again. “I want you to remember what I told you that night at the club. What was it?”

  Her cheeks went pink and he fought a smile. He scrawled his name over the paper. He felt the slight adjusting of her body. Her spine grew a little straighter, and her hands settled down to rest on her thighs. “That I’m beautiful. I’m yours. And that anyone who looks at me a little off is jealous of both of those because they know they’ll never have me.”

  He tapped his pen against his mouth and she leaned into him, her lips soft against his. It was sweet and gentle, like her. He bit her lower lip, licked the spot then turned his attention back to the bill, filling in the tip. “I’m going to give you a tip, kid, that will help you survive being a douche another day.”

  “Sir?” The waiter straightened, his eyes snapping away from Meri’s ass.

  “Every glorious one of her sixty-one inches will never be yours. I know, it’s hard to ignore how beautiful and sexy she is, so I’ll let that go. But if you happen to serve us for a second time in the next week, and you look at her like that again, I will personally remove your eyes from this planet. Then I will kill your job. Not only will I kill it, but I will be sure it’s a rotting corpse that no one will want to touch. Am I understood?”

  The waiter’s cheeks were now red but his face was pale. He swallowed and took the bill. It was habit that had him looking down. His eyes widened when he saw his generous tip.

  “A reminder,” Mike said, his fingers stroking up Meri’s back, “of what to do when you come here again. I will not be so generous with my money or my warnings. Go.”

  “Sorry, sir. Sorry, ma’am.” Then the kid made for the door, fast as hell.

  He was already forgotten, until the next time he stepped over a line. He turned his attention to Meri, whose eyes were downcast but a little smile curled her lips. “As for you, Miss Heaven…”

  “Me? What did I do?”

  He shook his head and unbuttoned the shirt. “One dumb ass arrives and what happens? All that lush willingness goes away.” He spilled her onto the couch and picked up her hand. He kissed her knuckles then drew her middle finger into his mouth. “I want you wet and begging to come. Then we’ll talk about dinner.” He set her finger against the dainty piercing that teased him. “As you were, little love.”

  There was a bottle of wine on the desk. Yes, it was over-priced, but he didn’t care. He had worked hard to be able to afford the nice things in life. And drinking a glass of wine while he watched her masturbate was a very nice thing indeed.

  Chapter Eight

  The fingers lightly traced her scars while her leg was bent and rested on Mike. There were times when Meri was sure he wasn’t even aware of doing it. The first time he had touched the spot, she had pulled away. How could he want to touch something so horrible and ugly? It wasn’t just the skin that was damaged, it was the muscle below, leaving her once smooth leg a maze of caverns.

  That mess on her leg was why she couldn’t do the jumps she loved to do so much. That grotesque area was why she had to re-learn how to walk, how to learn to skate again, and she had to reprogram her brain in order to do her spins. Her injury and the accident haunted her dreams. She hated the ugliness of it. She hated that because of this she couldn’t skate. And if she hated it, Mike should. Only he hadn’t reacted that way.

  He hadn’t liked being denied any part of her. On their next date he had done some painfully erotic things to her leg and he had kept it up until she was completely and utterly aroused, and then he stopped. All she had wanted at that point was for him to return to his wicked touches on the very spot she wanted him to avoid.

  Clever man.

  “And what has you smiling?”

  She slid her leg over his other thigh, rolling until she lay on him. His touch continued to draw on the back of her leg. “Remembering.”

  A dark brown eyebrow arched up while he looked at her beneath his lowered lids. He looked like a lazy cat, sated from food and sex.

  “My scar.” She answered the unspoken question.

  “This scar?” His fingers caressed up her hip to the one on her ribs. She shook her head in answer. The light meandering touch moved back down to behind her knee while his other hand slipped behind her left knee. He pulled on her legs so she was straddling his waist. Fingers flowed up her spine and tangled into her hair. He gently pulled until she sat up.

  She gasped out in pleasure when his right hand flattened on her stomach, his middle finger tracing the tidy line beneath her belly button. Her skin prickled beneath his touch. She had ceased being surprised at how easily he could arouse her with a simple touch. The man could look at her and she’d want him. A text could have her body aching for him.

  “This scar?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  He caressed down to her pussy; his fingers gave the stud a little twist that made her thighs tighten on his hips. The corner of his mouth twitched in a satisfied smirk before he began to work his finger back and forth. Oh God, she thought as she rested her hands on his chest.

  “Then you must mean this little wound.” His finger was warm and damp from touching her. He painted the scar with her arousal and she nodded. “I think when we get home, you need a reminder on what is beautiful.”

  Reaching up, she traced his own silvery line from where surgeons repaired his rotator cuff. Leaning down, she kissed his scar. With the tip of her tongue, she followed the mark. Hands caressed along her back until he cupped her ass, while she pressed kisses along his collarbone.

  She loved how big he was. The thick muscles, the simple broadness of him. Her fingers spread over his chest, feeling his strength beneath skin and the dark hair. His cologne was still faint on his skin, the last vestiges of the day. He rocked her hips over his flat belly. She tasted him: the sweat dried on his skin, that musky manly flavor that was all Mike.

  She followed the tendon to his neck then found the scratchy whiskers. A tiny scar beneath the dark stubble was flicked by her tongue before she sought out his mouth. Tongues met and tangled as he continued the slow tempo of her hips. A finger brushed over the tight entrance at her ass and a little moan escaped at the touch.

  “Let’s get you situated.” His free hand caught her wrist and drew it beyond him, under the pillows until the edge of the mattress brushed her fingers. Her breasts brushed against his face, her nipples tight and needy. Meri shifted, feeling his lips on her skin but he ignored the offered nipple, driving her mad with wanting to feel his mouth. She gripped tight, needing something to hold on to as that one finger went round and round. Her other hand moved on its own accord, finally earning a slow brush of his tongue over her nipple. Like the finger at her ass, the tip of his tongue drew teasing circles. “How wet you are, greedy for my dick.”

  “Michael,” she whispered. Fuck me, suck me. The words crammed her brain, because she didn’t know which one she wanted more: his mouth or his finger.

  “Michael’s not here at the moment,” he practically purred. “Please leave a message at the tone, and he’ll get back to you when he damn well feels like it.” His finger pressed in and she cried out, her hands clutching the bed. Oh so slowly, he eased his finger back and forth, his other hand caressing her ass and hips.

  Meri gazed at the man sprawled beneath her and felt something hot clench in her chest. The expression in his eyes shifted slightly. This was the man she had first met, who had told her they were having dinner, who had grilled some steaks on his deck with the view of Lake Ontario hours later. The
n that night, he had taken her into that room upstairs with the windows that looked out over the lake.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking of,” he demanded in a low voice that made her toes curl. The finger in her ass kept up its slow, relentless rhythm. Each time she rocked back into the glide, her breasts rubbed over the hard wall of his chest. The contact against her swollen nipples made it hard to concentrate. Oh, who was she kidding? The entire man made it hard to concentrate.

  “You,” she said, struggling to keep her eyes open on his face. “Our first dinner.”

  “When we sat out on my deck drinking wine? Where you were nervous and turned on and my cock was hard as hell for you. Do you mean that dinner?”

  Her lashes lifted and she gazed into his dark eyes. “Yes. You scared me.”

  His smile was a little cruel as he pushed his finger deep into her and made her gasp at the sensation. “I know.” He slid his other hand between her legs and she cried out when he found her aching clit. “I liked that I did because I knew you were aware of me. My little inexperienced submissive who hadn’t even known she had walked into my lair. I loved watching the dawning awareness. The realization of the dominant in me. And how that turned you on. Fuck, how you responded to me without even a touch. Just the truth in your head that I was the dominant to your submissive.”

  She nodded, her voice getting trapped in her throat when he began to toy with the piercing. When she had revealed her birthday present to him, he had tied her to his headboard and spent the night admiring it. So many orgasms that night.

  “How wet you are now,” he said as a finger teased her, lightly teasing back and forth over the spot she wanted him to fill. “This gorgeous pussy that hungers for my cock.” Both of his hands disappeared and she whimpered at the loss. She wanted his hands on her, needed them. He lifted her hips and slipped out from beneath her.

  A sharp slap landed on her ass after he repositioned her: arms stretched above her, head lowered and her ass in the air. She listened to his bare feet on the carpet, her body screaming with awareness of the man. The bed dipped and she looked between her legs to see him brace a knee between hers. A hand caressed her ass then down to her pussy. She cried out as he slowly pressed the egg into her. Another slap on her ass and he thumbed the toy onto a low setting. The soft pulsations inside her made her back dip more while the orgasm he had begun to stir throbbed hotly, just out of reach.