Burn for Cowboy (Stampede Sizzlers) (3 page)

Long before he had the signed contract with Kyla’s parents, Meri had been in his bed. That first day at practice he had watched her with his dark, alpha dog eyes and made her warm and tingly. He had invited her over for dinner. Actually, what he had said was “You’re coming to dinner.”

Resisting him had never entered her mind. Within hours he had her upstairs in his room, tied to his custom designed St. Andrew’s cross shaped like an M. He had done things to her she had only fantasized about.

No one had ever hit all her kinky desires until Mike, not even Adam. There had been dates and lovers over the years, but she had learned quickly that an alpha male was not the same as a dominant male. With Mike, he was able to pry open her mind and find everything that felt so very, very good. He made all those jumbled pieces inside her click together.

Since that first night he had been pushing her boundaries both sexually and emotionally.

It was the emotional part that terrified her.

Fingers gently stroked along her jaw and he tilted her head up. Every touch made her skin tingle. For almost a year he had made her body tingle and burn. Sometimes with a touch.

Sometimes without.

“There you are,” he said softly as he removed her cowboy hat and kissed her. When his tongue flicked along her lower lip, there was no thought of hesitating. He pressed the hat against her back, moving her from her hard wooden seat to the hard muscles of his thighs. So much better, she thought as she met the erotic dips of his tongue. When his hat bumped her head, he set it on her seat. Fingers spread through her hair to hold her still for the deep thrusts of his tongue.

Meri’s legs hooked behind his back to get closer to him. Through the layers of denim she felt the thick bulge of his cock and she squirmed to get closer. Hands gripped her ass, holding her close for a few moments before he eased her back. No, no, no.

A hand stroked up her spine, over the light cotton of her tank top. Fingers fisted hard in her hair and tilted her head back so she could see the bright blue sky above the buildings. The sharp tug on her hair loosened things deep inside her.

“No coming,” he said in her ear as a marching band thundered by, playing a rousing rendition of a classic song. Teeth scraped down her neck to the tendon at her shoulder. She bit her lip as her hips pushed into his. The cotton of her top teased her swollen nipples, the sensation making her throb for more. The hand at her ass slid down her leg, caressing lightly over the scar where her shorts ended. Before she could think of his name, he spun her around and set her hat on her head. “Behave, little love.”

Evil, she thought as she tried to focus on the colorful, noisy world around her. He was evil.

She was hyper aware of the insistent press of his erection against her ass and his fingers teasing the hem of her shorts. Anyone looking at her would know she was aroused.

Fingers gently brushed over her scar and she watched him follow the familiar lines of a dream-ending injury. He cupped her hips then caressed up her back. Against her chest she felt the twisted strands of the copper necklace slide free. He caught it while his lips pressed against her shoulder. As the crowd on one side of the street gave a boisterous “yah” and their side shouted back a “hoo” until the rhythm was smooth, melding into “yahoo”, Mike wove the necklace through her bracelets.

He removed her hat and she settled against his chest, his thumbs caressing the copper and silver bangles. Against her ass, his erection still pressed and over the pulse points of her wrists, he caressed. “At the next hoo,” he said against her ear, “come for me, little love.”

His hands slid to the insides of her thighs and need tightened deep in her belly. “Yah,” he murmured as he rocked her over his straining cock.

“Hoo.”

The shout of the crowd muffled her cry as she arched against him, seeking the release he allowed her. She gasped for breath, her face turned to his neck so she could smell the subtle blend of skin and cologne. There was a sense of loss when he removed his impromptu cuffs.

“Let’s go,” he said as he lifted her off his lap and held her hips as she tried to find her balance. Her orgasm left her feeling a little wobbly on her feet and his smug grin said he knew why she wasn’t so steady.

Once more he slipped her hat in place, then he took her hand and they returned to the hotel.

It was, by far, the best parade of her life.

Chapter Three

She did not get the rules of the rodeo. The chuck wagon races were easy to grasp. Whoever gets over the line first wins. But everything else?

“It’s points,” Mike said without looking up from the notebook resting on his thigh. “Think of it like figure skating. You get points for your routine. Certain things get you higher points. A triple for instance. That horse,” he pointed his pen toward a man getting his brains rattled, “is a triple.”

He was scouting. On every line of the book was a name of the participants, and beside each name was their score. Already through the various events, names had lines drawn through them. Watching Mike work was almost as confusing as the rodeo. How could he figure out, on the first day out of ten, who sucked hard enough to earn a scratching out in his notebook?

 The candy apple was forgotten as she studied her lover. “How do you know all this?”

“I read. I ask questions. Plus I grew up around this.” He lifted the white plastic cup filled with beer and took a sip.

“I thought it was cows.”

“Cows.” He said the word like it was disgusting. His lip curled and his nose twitched as if he smelled manure nearby. “Fucking cows.” Mike leaned forward, watching the cowboy on the bucking horse. Within seconds a cloud of dirt exploded up when the man landed and a line went through his name. “Guy on the neighboring ranch worked the broncs. He had a hot daughter.”

“Ahhh, and it all comes together.”

His lips curled in a grin. “And she had a pretty, submissive best friend.”

“Really.” She rested her elbow on his shoulder. “Did she now?”

“She did. Robin Mathers.” He said the name slowly and she half expected angels to let out a chorus of hallelujahs.  “Little pain slut. Those are always fun.” He caressed her cheek as he looked at her. “Aren’t you?”

Meri stuck her tongue out at him and was rewarded when he pinched her ear lobe. Hard. Her nipples tightened as if he had given those a little tweak. His hand settled on her hip and he wrote down a new name.

“You breaking into the rodeo representing?”

“This year’s winner gets a hundred thousand dollars. That’s a big jackpot. Half of these guys live rodeo win by rodeo win. You don’t win, you don’t eat.”

“Gold medal,” she said, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

“Gold medal,” he repeated.

“Hey, little love,” she said in a deep voice, mimicking his words, “you know what would be a neat getaway? The Calgary Stampede. Getaway,” she said in her normal voice, “my ass.”

His hand gave her ass cheek a sharp slap. “It’s a nice ass. I gave you a parade. I bought you jewelry and a hat. In a few hours you’ll get fireworks. You’re eating a candy apple. And earlier I beat your ass with a belt. How much more of a getaway do you need?”

Meri grinned then stretched up to kiss his jaw. His hand squeezed the ass he had taken a belt to earlier. He returned to his scouting, watching everything from the way the cowboy settled onto the horse’s back to the way he landed at six seconds. That cowboy’s name was not crossed off the list.

Her gaze wandered around the people watching the happenings down in the dirt. There were a few suits scattered throughout but not many. Most were in citified country gear like her. Jeans, a western shirt, though hers was just a plaid button shirt over her tank top, and a cowboy hat.

The Stampede, she realized, was an equalizer. You didn’t know if you were sitting beside a millionaire or a stay-at-home mom.  Meri turned to look at the sea of people behind her. She had the feeling they understood as much about the various rodeo events as she did. But it was like skating. You knew when something went right and when someone landed on their ass, you knew when something went wrong. So you cheered when it was good, and you gasped when it went bad.

Toying with the fingers curled over her thigh, Meri turned her attention beyond the people to look at the field where some guy clung to his horse. There were seats down below. Talk about getting close to the action. “How come we aren’t sitting down there?”

“You know what it smells like down in the infield? Shit. Shit and sweat.”

“So we’ll be down there tomorrow?”

His lips curled. He made a note on the paper.  “I wanted a bigger scope today. You can see more here. Down there you’re up close and personal with the dirt and ride. Eat your apple, Meredith.”

She studied his profile as he worked, making her way through the layer of sticky sugar to get to the Macintosh apple beneath. She knew his face better than anyone else’s. The bump in his nose, the scar by his eyebrow from a hockey stick, the square line of his jaw. The black hair that had a few more strands of grey than when she first met him. It wasn’t a gentle face.

When she looked at him she didn’t think that Michael Rossi was a sweetheart of a man.

She looked at him and thought of sex. Silly but true. He was raw and edgy, hard and unrelenting. Power and strength.

Sex.

He turned, looking away from the – what had he called it? – infield and met her gaze. Her heart raced hotly in her chest and it felt like flashes of heat exploded in her stomach. This sexually aggressive, dominant male was hers. She belonged to him. As always a whisper of disbelief moved through her.

The hand on her hip slid over her denim-clad thigh then between her legs. The massage was anything but soothing and need began to flicker to life as he touched her. Automatically she shifted so the heel of his hand rested over the piercing she had gotten for him three months ago. She couldn’t look away from the bottomless brown of his eyes as he worked his strong fingers against her pussy until she was wet and throbbing. Her fingers clung to the wooden stick of her treat like it was a lifeline. The crowd gave an enthusiastic cheer; he squeezed and rubbed.

“You made me miss a ride. No orgasm for you.” He wrote a question mark beside the name and returned to watching, though his hand continued between her legs until she swore she was going to erupt into flames. “Eat your apple, Meri.”

Need and want warred within her. Eat? Eat what?

He kept up the tortuous massage the entire rodeo. By the time the Grandstand show started, she forgot what a horse was. There was only Mike, the master of her body.

****

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on yet?” The taxi drove away from the building they stood in front of. A simple sign by the door read Stealth but she had no idea where they were. There were no windows on the warehouse.

“No,” Mike said, laying his hand on the small of her back. He led her to a set of double doors, the glass tinted black.

She glanced at him. He wore one of his power suits, so at odds when earlier he had been wearing jeans and his black cowboy hat. Mike Rossi in a suit was something every woman should see. His powerful body seemed even larger framed in the black fabric. Returning to the hotel room, she had been sure they would wind up naked in bed. Instead, he had pulled the one nice dress she packed from the closet and told her they were going out again.

The doors opened and it was a surprise to see a guy bigger than Mike standing there in a black T-shirt with Stealth on the left breast. A bouncer. They were at a club? Mike was the last person she’d ever imagine entering a nightclub. Not that bars were her thing either. Too much noise from the music and people interfered with having a good time. Her nose wrinkled as she looked at Mike. “Really?”

His grin was mischievous. “Really.” They stopped at an enclosed window where a girl sat in a nearly dark room. “I’m a guest,” he said, his hand caressing up Meri’s back. When he reached bare skin above her black dress, he lightly caressed her spine making her skin tingle. “Mike Rossi plus one.”

The girl consulted a computer. “Of course, Mr. Rossi. Welcome to Stealth.” Something black was passed to him. “Have you been to Stealth before?”

“A long time ago,” he said.

Was that a mask?

Nervous now, Meri watched him lay the mask over her eyes. He stepped behind her, tying the sends. He kissed her shoulder, his hands stroking down her arms. “Relax, Meri.”

“Everything must be consensual,” the woman said behind the glass. “You may not touch anyone else without permission granted unless they are with the club. Those associated with the club will be wearing blue masks. If at anytime you or your submissive are considered to be a danger to anyone, you will be asked to leave. No phones or recording devices are allowed inside and we ask that they be left at the front desk. As a guest, you do not have access to any private rooms. Again, welcome to Stealth.”

Him or his submissive?
Her eyebrows climbed behind her mask. Mike settled his own mask over his face.

How did you make a large, muscular man look even bigger?

Make him look anonymous.

Her heart fluttered with a combination of nerves and appreciation. The letter
D
was beside his left eye, and the half mask made his blunt jaw seem more so. A second door was opened and this man wore a blue mask.

“Welcome to Stealth.”

It was another small room and she watched as Mike handed over his phone. Meri passed over her purse. Mike stared at her, his head tilted to the side. “What?”

He stepped behind her. “Do you trust me, little love?”

The question made her heart pound fast. “Yes,” she said slowly. Against her back she felt the zipper open. She flattened her hands on her chest when the straps slid down her shoulders. “Michael?”

He kissed her neck, her shoulder, the small of her back bared by her open dress. “As always, you have the right to say yes or no.”

Her head gave a little shake and he eased the zipper back up. “What is this place?”

He grinned down at her.  “A playground of sorts.” The hand on her back guided her to another set of doors that seemed to open magically. Her eyes went wide behind the mask. Mike stood behind her, his body familiar.