Boots and Buckles (10 page)

“No. Actually, it makes me hot.” He pushed aside the strap of her thong panties and nudged her with his cock. “What about taking it slow? Starting over?”

She snorted. “We will, after this.”

He shifted, raising up enough to slide his wallet out of his back pocket. From it, he retrieved a foil packet and tore it open.

“Let me.” Mona took the condom and rolled it down over his thick, hard dick. Then she raised herself up over him. “Just so you know, your partner was good.”

His fingers curled around her hips and he lifted her until she hovered over him, his cock poised to impale her. “Then I’ll have to prove I’m better.”

Her breath lodged in her lungs, she whispered, “Commence proving yourself.”

He eased her down over him until she fully sheathed him.

Longer and thicker than Sam, though not by much, Grant filled her to full and lifted her off him to do it all again.

With each stroke, Mona had to remind herself to inhale and let the air out, the pleasure so intense, she almost forgot to breathe.

“Want me to slow down?” he asked, his voice strained, his face tense.

“No.”

Before she could guess his next move, he flipped her onto her back and pinned her wrists above her head.

“Hold on, sweetheart, I’m gonna make you scream.”

She lifted her head and glanced toward the door. “Should we lock the door?”

“Now?” He slid a hand down to her mound, parted her folds and flicked her clit with one long thick finger.

“Fuck the door,” she gasped.

He laughed and leaned in, capturing her lips in a tender but insistent kiss, sucking her bottom lip between his teeth. Letting go of her hands, he pressed her legs wide, pushing her knees up, exposing her pussy to him. “You’re more beautiful than ever.” He traced around her moist entrance. “So wet and hot.”

“Oh, please, don’t tease me.” She dug her fingers into his shoulders and dragged him close. “Come inside me, now.”

Grant drove into her in one long, hard thrust.

Mona dug her heels into the picnic blanket, raising her hips to meet him.

Then he was sliding in and out of her like a piston, fast and furious until she shot over the top, her fingernails scraping across his back, her voice erupting from her throat in a low, moaning scream, unlike anything she’d ever heard from herself.

In one last thrust he held her hips, burying himself so deep he had to be touching her soul, his cock throbbing. He bent to press a kiss to her lips then rose up and asked, “When is your next appointment, Mona?”

His words ripped through her haze of lust and her head jerked up. Five minutes until her next appointment. “Damn.” And Mrs. Rutherford always came early—exactly five minutes early. The woman was one of the pillars of community, capable of spreading rumors—or in this case truths—like wildfire and turning others against you if she decided she didn’t like you. Mona couldn’t risk the bank finding out she’d been getting it on in her shop in the middle of the day. Not if she wanted them to take her serious as a business owner.

“Get up.” Mona shoved hard, rolling him off her.

“Why?” He peeled off the condom, eased his stiff member inside his jeans, tucked in his unbuttoned shirt, zipped his fly and then buckled his belt in quick, efficient movements.

“My next appointment will be here any moment.” She grabbed food and napkins, stuffing them into the bag Grant had brought with him. “Move!”

Grant scrambled to his feet, handed Mona the half-full beer bottles and the cooler, grabbed the corners of the blanket and scooped everything else up in one bundle and slung it over his shoulder. He held out his hand for the cooler.

Mona shoved it toward him as the door opened, rattling the bell loud enough to make her jump and hide the beer bottles behind her back. She eased backward toward the trash bin.

Mrs. Rutherford stepped in, wearing a tailored, cream-colored pantsuit, a long string of pearls and a broad-brimmed hat. “Oh, Mona, am I early?”

“Not at all, Mrs. Rutherford. Grant was just leaving.” Mona’s legs bumped into the bin and she slipped the beer bottles inside.

“What have you got there?” Mrs. Rutherford stepped aside as Grant strode past her, carrying the bundle and the cooler.

“No worries, ma’am. Just here cleaning up the rat problem.”

The older woman gasped, her gaze shooting to the floor, her body drawing up as if she’d climbed onto a stool. “
Rats
?”

“Grant.” Mona reached out and hooked Mrs. Rutherford’s arm. “He’s kidding. He was just picking up some old hair rollers I’m having recycled. Weren’t you, Grant?” She shot him a scathing look.

“What Mona said. No rats.” With a mock salute, he plunked his hat on his head. “I’ll see you at six.” And Grant was gone.

Mona let out a long breath as if she’d been holding it the entire time Grant had been in the shop. Though her pulse still raced, she could now settle back into her routine and think through what had just happened.
Holy hell!
She’d had sex with Grant on the floor of her shop.

“What was that man doing in here, really? Didn’t his momma raise him better than to run around with his shirt unbuttoned?” Mrs. Rutherford dropped her purse off her shoulder and stared at Mona’s chest. “Um, Mona, dear, your shirt is caught in the back of your bra, your panties are showing and you smell of beer. Should I come back when you’re better able to concentrate?”

Mona almost laughed and replied,
Sure and in what century would that be
?

“Didn’t see you at lunch,” Sam commented as he cinched the girth on his saddle one last time before they had to head to the box for the team roping competition.

Grant dropped his stirrup, checked his rope and replied, “Had something to take care of in town.”

“Not
something
.” Dalton Faulkner appeared beside him, leaned against the corner of their horse trailer and stuck a toothpick between his teeth, shifting it to the side to say, “More like
someone
.”

Grant shot a narrow-eyed glare at the man.

Sam glanced from his partner to Grant’s ex-partner. “What do you mean?” Grant had always been honest and above-board with him since he’d sobered up and they’d gotten serious about the rodeo. “You meet someone?” Sam couldn’t help but be happy for his friend. The man had been tight-lipped about his love life—the one subject he didn’t share with Sam. “Was it the girl you left the saloon with last night? You two patch things up?”

“No.” Grant dropped to his haunches and checked the bell boots on his horse’s right front hoof. Not that he needed to, he’d checked them twice already and they were firmly in place. “Nothin’ to patch up on that front. I’m not interested in her.”

“No, it wasn’t the pretty barrel racer he left the Ugly Stick with last night. It was someone you both know, wasn’t it?”

Grant straightened. “Shut up, Dalton.”

“Why?” Dalton gave Sam a wide-eyed innocent look. “Oh, wait. Is it because Sam doesn’t know?”

Sam never had liked Dalton, but the man knew something Grant was keeping from him and his curiosity was piqued. “Know what?”

“Come on, Sam. We’re up next.” Grant ignored Dalton, grabbed his reins and led his horse toward the arena.

Sam looped his reins in his hand and set off after Grant but didn’t get far before Dalton stepped in front of him.

“Saw you dancing with that pretty little beautician last night. Nice little piece of ass, isn’t she?”

Sam’s fists bunched. “Don’t talk about Mona like that.”

“She gives a really fine blowjob, if I recall.” Dalton rubbed his crotch as if he was speaking from experience.

“A
real
man doesn’t talk about the women he sleeps with.” Grant had stopped a few steps ahead of Sam and leveled his statement at Dalton. “Don’t let him get to you, Sam,” he warned.

“It’s true. She’s got a great body and can swallow a man’s dick whole.” Dalton chuckled. “Isn’t that right, Grant?”

Anger bubbled up in Sam. What did the jerk mean by including Grant in his remark? “Grant doesn’t even know Mona.”

Dalton glanced from Grant to Sam. “Is that what he told you?”

Grant blew out an angry breath. “Let it go.”

“He didn’t bother to tell you that not only does he know her, but he and I had her in a threesome?”

Sam’s chest tightened so hard he thought it might implode. He turned to his partner. “You know Mona?”

Grant sighed. “I met her three years ago when I was here for the rodeo.”

“Yeah,” Dalton said. “But you’re still panting after her like a dog in heat, if your trip to town at lunch is any indication.”

Sam stared at Grant. “You had lunch with Mona? She told me she didn’t have time today.”

His fingers tightened on the reins. “I made an appointment.”

“Fuck, Grant. You know I was with her last night. Why didn’t you tell me? What else should I know?”

“I’m sorry, man. When you left with her, I wasn’t sure I had a chance in hell. I wanted her to make her own decision without pressuring her.”

“And she chose you?”

He scraped his hand over his head. “Can we discuss this after we compete?” His gaze shifted to Dalton. “And out of earshot of him?”

“What?” Dalton raised his hand. “I’m only letting your partner in on the fact you’ve been lying to him.”

“You’re a big help, like you always were.” Grant’s lips pressed into a tight line. “We only have five minutes to show up for our turn. I suggest we get a move on.”

Sam took the lead, marching ahead of Grant, mad as hell and ready to punch his partner in the face.

Grant hurried to catch up. “I was gonna tell you.”

“Yeah?” Sam didn’t turn around. “When? After you sneaked off and took her to lunch? Hmm, it’s been three hours since lunch. You’ve been with me ever since. When were you planning to tell me?”

“Actually, we didn’t go out to lunch, we ate in her shop. And I was going to tell you, I just didn’t know how.”

“Telling the truth is that hard for you?” Sam shook his head and stopped walking to turn back toward him. “I slept with her last night. Did she tell you that?”

Grant’s lips twisted. “Yeah. She did.”

“Holy hell! Did you and she laugh about it too?” Sam resumed walking.

“Look, we can talk about this later and I’ll tell you everything. Just understand this, Dalton brought it all up now to throw us off our game. He’s messing with your head.”

“And it’s working.” Sam ground his teeth together. “Okay. We’ll talk later. Right now, we have a competition to win. I’ll be damned if I let Dalton screw with our record. The bastard.”

“Good. He’s at the root of all that went wrong between me and Mona. I’ll understand if you stay mad at me, but if you really want to be mad at someone, he’s the guy. I came back to Temptation to ask Mona to forgive me.”

“And seeing me leave with her last night was your way of doing it?” Sam entered the arena, leading his horse to the holding area where they’d await their cue.

“Look, I didn’t know you’d fall for her the first time you met.” Grant’s boots crunched the gravel behind him. “Hell, you haven’t known her all of twenty-four hours.”

“But I
want
to know her. You had three years to get your shit together. Three years.”

“I know,” Grant admitted, his voice fading. “And I’ve kicked myself all those years.”

“Well, I’m not giving up on her like you did.” Sam paused at the entrance to the arena. “If you want Mona, you’ll have to convince her you’re worth having.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

Sam faced him. “Why did you leave her in the first place?”

“That’s a long story. I’ll tell you when we’re done here.”

“Damn right you will.”

“And you might as well know before Dalton tells you, I’m taking Mona out for dinner tonight.”

“Fuck!” Sam’s hand bunched into a fist and he took a step toward Grant.

“Grant Raleigh and Sam Whitefeather, you’re up at gate six!” a voice shouted through the entrance.

“This discussion is not over,” Sam promised. He had a lot more to say to his partner. Waiting their turn to ride wasn’t the time or place.

Sam led his horse into the maze around the area and stopped in front of the wood-slatted box of gate number six, on the right of the chute with the steer.

Grant stopped behind the box on the left.

They waited in silence for the team in front of them to go.

The steer burst from the chute. When it got to the end of the barrier rope, the horses leaped from the boxes. In eight seconds, the cowboys had the steer’s head and heels roped.

Sam shook off their argument, gathered his lasso in his hand and focused on the task ahead. As he sat astride his horse, he stared across the fencing to Grant.

“Mona’s special. She deserves a man who’ll be there for the long haul,” he called out.

Grant’s lips pressed together and he nodded.

The man holding the gate of the chute took that as his cue to release the steer.