At the Cowboy's Mercy (4 page)

He grunted his approval, and closed the menu. "I'm getting a steak." He waved to the harried waitress and placed their order.

Her attention drifted to the dance floor, where cowboys danced with pretty girls. Liam watched, too, but Luke's attention was on the flat screen above the bar--another basketball game.
 

"You looked relaxed out there," she ventured, then slammed her lips together when he darted a surprised glance at her. Of course he'd remember that she'd been there when Gary was ordering him to get laid. She wasn't asking if he had. Was she?

"Just needed to focus."

Liam looked from one to the other, confused. "What am I, chopped liver?"

"Second place," Luke taunted without missing a beat as the waitress delivered their beers.
 

"Which means you're buying." Liam turned to Kennedy. "Want to dance?"

Tension ran from Luke across the table to her, but he didn't look at her, merely drank his beer and looked up at the screen.
 

"Sure." She couldn't remember the last time she'd danced. She swung into Liam's arms and he began to move to the fast-paced song, guiding her around the dance floor which wasn't nearly as crowded as the bar.
 

He was a great dancer, a good leader with a good sense of timing. He spun her and drew her back, closer, his hand shifting lower, resting just above the low-riding waistband of her jeans, his fingertips resting on her spine. With a little laugh, he pressed his knee between her thighs and pulled her closer, slowing to the new song, circling her hips with his. She shifted her hands to his shoulders to keep her balance and had no choice but to look into his face. He was laughing, but his eyes held a darker intent, a seductive one. For a moment, she let herself enjoy it, to remember what he made her feel, to move into it. But when he slid his hands down over her ass and squeezed, she stopped and stepped back.
 

"Thanks for the dance."

"Ah, come on, Kennedy. Let's have some fun. We were good together."

"I don't think so." She glanced toward the table.

Liam stiffened and released her. "Is he who you want to have fun with?"

She didn't answer, couldn't. It was true, but she could never tell Liam.

"Why did you go to him and not me? You knew he was pissed at you."

"I just--did." Because she'd known Liam would ask for a price. Not that making love to him would be any hardship--he was beautiful and very good in bed--but it would cost her more of her pride. Turned out she had more of that than she thought, and wanted to hang onto it more than she wanted to hang onto the few dollars in her pocket.

"My place is nicer. My bed is queen-sized, plenty of room for both of us."

"I'm not sleeping with him."

"Hell, I know that. All you have to do is look at him to know that. But if you were sleeping with me, you'd put him out of his misery."

Did he mean that Luke wanted to sleep with her? Because she kind of got that feeling, too, and she wouldn't say it didn't appeal. "I'm not sleeping with you, either."

Liam's gaze drifted to her breasts. "Shame."
 

Luke's scowl was darker than usual when she slid back into her place, but he said nothing, his attention on the television. She drank her beer and made room for Liam beside her. He dropped his arm over the back of the booth and she made a point to sit forward.
 

"Why don't you two go dance?" Liam encouraged. "This song is about your speed, isn't it, bro?" He pointed to the ceiling at the speaker above their table, where a slow song played.

Luke bared his teeth at his brother. But when Kennedy thought he'd ignore Liam's taunt, Luke grasped her wrist.

"Let her out, then."

"You could have asked," she said as he guided her out on the floor.
 

He fixed her with a look. "Would you have said no?"

"It actually wouldn't have occurred to me."

His big hand on her back was warm--or maybe the intimacy made her warm. Odd how his touch did more for her libido than Liam's. Because he was so tall, she had to move close to put her hand on his shoulder, and her breasts brushed his chest when they moved. His nostrils flared at the contact and he drew her closer. Her nipples hardened against his chest. His gaze flicked downward, then back to her eyes.

"Did he ask you to go home with him?"

His words rumbled against her body, distracting her momentarily from his erection growing against her belly.

"He did."

"He has a bigger bed than I do."

"I'm not interested." But she was quickly becoming interested in what was between them, literally. Bad idea. Bad. She needed to put some distance between them, but doing so might reveal too much. She placed her palm on his chest to move away and was distracted by the springiness of his chest hair beneath his shirt. What would that feel like to touch? What would it feel like against her nipples? She focused on the opening of his shirt and her breath hitched, just a little.

His fingers tightened on her spine. "Are you sure?"

She looked into his eyes, heat rolling through her at what she saw there. "Do you want me to go home with your brother?" she demanded.

Instead of answering, his jaw clenched, and he looked past her. "Our food is there."

If she'd expected him to say more, she was disappointed, because he twisted his hand free and walked across the floor to their table, leaving her trailing in his wake.

***

Walking was painful with the hard-on pressing against the fly of his jeans, and God knew everyone in the place could probably see it. But hell, could they blame him after having a body like that pressed against him? The little t-shirt was no barrier--he'd felt her nipples just as clearly as if she'd been naked.

"That was quick," Liam said when Luke approached, standing and giving his brother a knowing grin.

"Didn't want our food to get cold."

Liam glanced at Kennedy as she slid past him into the booth. "Looks like that's not the only thing that's cold."

Luke ground his teeth as his brother looked at Kennedy's tits.
 

She settled into her seat with a sigh. "Seriously, if I show them to you, will you stop staring at them?"

"Yes," Liam said without missing a beat.
 

"No," Luke said at the same time, though his cock was on Liam's side. Besides, he could imagine them just fine, outlined as they were in the thin top. Did she not wear a bra? "Eat your dinner."

Why he was in such a hurry, he had no idea. Once he got her back to the RV, Christ. The two of them shut up in that tin can, and he could think of only one way to pass the time. He was losing control. The thing was, right now, he wanted to lose control, wanted to make her lose it, too. He raised his finger and ordered another round.

"Hey, I heard about a card game going on in the horse barn tonight," Liam said. "Want in? You got money now."

Luke realized Kennedy had gone stiff beside him. Right. Her father's gambling debts had left her in this situation. She wouldn't be a fan.

"Pass," he said, wondering just why the hell he wanted to accommodate Kennedy's wishes.

***

"Give me the keys," Kennedy ordered, holding out her hand, palm up.
 

Luke looked from the assortment of bottles on the table to her. Maybe he had overindulged just a little, trying to kill that hard-on. Hadn't worked.

"You've been drinking, too."

"A beer and a half. Perfectly sober."

He almost--almost--dared her to dig the keys out of his pocket herself, but reached for them himself. "Gotta take Liam back, too, then."

"No problem. Get him off the dance floor."

Liam had made it his mission to dance with every female in here, apparently. Luke tracked his brother across the bar, where he was curved around a voluptuous girl who wore very little despite the temperature outside. Luke sighed and made his way through the crowd. He tapped his brother's shoulder, and Liam turned with a scowl.

"Heading back. Kennedy's driving."

"I got a ride," Liam replied, cupping the blonde's ass and making her laugh.

Luke looked from his brother to the blonde. She smiled. "I have a DD. I'll get him back in one piece."

"Thanks," Luke said, backing away. "You two have fun."

"You two, too," Liam replied, cracking himself up.

Yeah, that was kinda what Luke was afraid of.

Kennedy drove his truck cautiously, though he knew she'd driven big trucks, hell, she used to haul trailers. Maybe it was the fact that it was his truck that had her moving so slow. But she got them back to the trailer and geez, just like that his libido came out to play. She'd wrapped up in her ugly coat, but his mind's eye could still see her nipples poking against the fabric of her shirt. He couldn't even rub one out in the RV with her so close, listening.

Desire overrode reason with every step toward the door. Part of it was the beer, sure, he could place blame there, but part was just need. He needed her.

He walked into the RV first and turned to face her, his hip against the counter, his arms folded over his chest. She shrugged out of her coat and placed it over the edge of the couch.
 

"Show them to me."

"What?" Her gaze snapped to his.

"You offered. I'll stop staring if you show them to me."

"I was joking."

Of course she'd been. But he couldn't think of anything else. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"I thought we weren't going to do this," she murmured, shifting her weight from one foot to another.

"You didn't seem so against it when we were dancing. Christ, you felt so good rubbing against me. I know you could tell it made me hard. Show them to me, Kennedy."

Her gaze flicked to his fly. "And when I do? Do you want to touch them?"

His mouth went dry. "Maybe."

"Kiss them?"

Just thinking about it made his dick throb painfully. "Yes."

"Are you asking me to go to bed with you, Luke?"

Was he? "God, yes."

"In payment for me staying here?"

He shook his head hard enough to make himself dizzy. "Because you're making me fucking crazy. Let me. See them."

She reached for the neckline of her t-shirt, moving in slow motion. He made a strangled sound, meaningless, his gaze fixed on her tits. She tugged the fabric down beneath her breasts, bra and all, leaving creamy flesh and dark-tipped nipples, tight and long, exposed. He'd never wanted anything as much as he wanted to suck her nipple into his mouth, to feel it against his tongue. Jesus, he'd never even kissed her.
 

She released the fabric, leaving it framing her bare breasts, and stepped close enough to grasp the placket of his shirt and pull. The sound of the snaps parting echoed in the quiet RV, and she leaned against him with a moan, rubbing her breasts in his chest hair.

He swore, and in one move, grabbed her wrists and spun her so her back was to the wall, hands pinned above her head. He leaned close so she'd rub against him some more--Christ, his cock hurt--and covered her lips with his.
 

Her mouth was hot and spicy. He couldn't place where the flavor might come from, except that it was her taste, and he wanted more. Keeping one hand bracketed around her wrists, he looped the other around her waist and dragged her closer, pulling her up on her toes, thrusting his tongue deeper. She responded quickly, sliding her tongue against his, angling her head to invite more.
 

Then feeling her breasts against his chest wasn't enough. "I want to touch you."

"Yes." She shifted to free his hand from where it was trapped between her body and the wall. "Yes."

He curled his fingers around the firm flesh, rubbing his fingertips over her peaked tip. She gasped into his mouth and arched into him, pressing her belly into his dick. He opened and closed his hand around her wrists again.
 

"Do you like this?" he asked, his voice rough, his breath stirring the hair at her throat.

"God. Yes."

"You like me holding you?"

She swallowed. "Yes."

"Does it make you hot?"

"Yes."

"Does it make you wet?"

"Luke!"

He pulled back to see her cheeks red, her eyes wild. "Does it make you wet, Kennedy?"

"Yes." The confession came out on a breath.

"I want to suck on your tits."

"Yes. Yes, please." The last word came on a keening plea.

He had to lower her hands to just above her head so he could bend, brushing his lips lightly back and forth over the ruched tip, watched goosebumps rise over her white breast. He touched his tongue to her nipple, curled around it, then he closed his mouth over her breast, drawing gently at first, then harder. She flexed her fingers above his grip, her knees bending a bit. He lifted her breast higher, then shifted his touch to the other, rolling her nipple between his fingers.
 

"I want to touch you," she said, her wrists sliding up and down beneath his hand. "Please, Luke."

He let go of her so abruptly she sagged, catching herself with her hands on his shoulders. He grabbed her around the waist, lifted her and backed her into the bedroom. With one hand, he found the hem of her t-shirt and yanked it up, over her head. Then, holding her lower body against his, he unhooked her bra, then cupped her breast again. She smoothed her palms over his chest, making a sound of appreciation.
 

And then he lowered her to the bed, tugging at her jeans, needing to see her naked, stretched out on his bed, reaching for him. He wished to hell he had a proper bed, not this too-short thing, but he'd make do. He stripped down his own jeans and shorts, releasing his poor pent-up dick. He stretched beside her and ran his hand down her smooth belly, diving into her curls, parting her folds.
 

"Christ, you are wet." He wanted to feel her around his cock, more than anything. Instead, he slid a finger inside her, then two, crooking them, stroking inside her. She writhed, spreading her legs wider, bumping against his hand, needy. Then he stretched toward the bedside drawer and grabbed a condom.