Cowboy Heat (10 page)

His arm drew her close and rocked her, whispering soothing sounds in her ear.

When she roused, reddish light streamed through the window and the scent of warm male skin tinged with leather filled her nostrils. A rumbling snore sounded close by, and for just a few more seconds, she savored being in Bo’s embrace. Then she slipped from under his arm and rolled over the edge to land on her hands and knees. When he didn’t move, she found
her discarded boots, wrapped her fingers around the knife hilt, and cut the last thong binding him in place.

She would be ever grateful to this man for his part in helping ease her aching heart. With a careful move, she laid the blanket over his exposed legs and walked out the cabin door. The release of her anguish lifted off a weight that she’d barely known had become her life. Everywhere she looked, the colors seemed brighter, the air smelled fresher—and she welcomed the change.

A rustling sounded behind her and with a gasp, she whirled.

Bo stood in the doorway, his hair tousled from sleep and the blanket wrapped around his hips. “My clothes?”

With a smile, she moved to the mesquite bushes where they were drying and gathered them into her arms.

“You washed them? How long was I knocked out?”

“Long enough. Besides I thought I was repaying a service.” Heat filled her cheeks, and she held them out.

Instead of taking the clothes, Bo clasped her hand and drew her close. “About that service…”

Her gaze tangled with his, and she saw the heat in his dark eyes that had watched her at the waterfall.

With each statement, he took a backward step, pulling her along. “Yes, I want to touch your breasts. Yes, you are fit. Yes, you are a desirable woman. And hell yes, I want to bed you.”

Giving only token resistance, she followed, intrigued by his words.

Bo dumped the clothes on the wooden table, unwrapped the blanket, and stripped off her dress—seemingly all at the same time. He enclosed her in an embrace and lowered his head to capture her mouth in a gentle kiss that explored her lips with soft nibbles.

Meghan stiffened, unused to such soft caresses, and then she relaxed and welcomed the swipe of his probing tongue. Her hand explored his chest and wrapped around his neck.

Then he lifted her, laid her in the middle of the mattress and stood, his gaze taking in her length. A grin spread his lips. “Beautiful.”

She looked at him, enjoying the steady rise of his cock. Then looking wasn’t enough, and she spread out her arms, beckoning him closer.

Bo covered her body with soft kisses and gentle caresses; he teased her nipples with his swirling tongue, drawing them into the warm cavern of his mouth to suckle her until her back arched off the mattress. His fingers slid along her wet cleft and circled the tight pearl.

Blood pounded through her veins, flowing to all the places on her body where his touch enticed and excited her senses. Never had so many feelings happened inside her before a man entered her body. She pressed her thighs tight and arousal swirled in her pussy. Her hands clamped around Bo’s cheeks, and she angled his head from where he kissed her belly. “I want you inside me.”

An eyebrow lifted. “Bossy, aren’t you?”

His teasing surprised her, and she grinned. In her past experiences, this act had meant only duty. Her fingers ran through his thick hair, urging him closer.

Bo rose over her, his knees spreading her legs, and then his cock pressed against her entrance. With a slow flexing of his hips, he pushed inside until his entire length was sheathed in her tight heat.

A moan slipped from her lips, and Meghan grasped his shoulders. Tingling arousal shot through her pussy. She wrapped her legs around his hips to keep the sensation building. His strength
overwhelmed her, and her body slid along the mattress with each powerful stroke.

His mouth covered hers, and his tongue swept inside, inviting her response. With slow strokes, and then with more passion, she tangled her tongue with his until they broke apart breathless.

Gasps filled the air, and they worked in a rhythm that excited and inflamed their senses until fiery ecstasy engulfed her pussy. “Oh, ahhh,” she cried out her release, digging her fingernails into his back as her hips still pressed against him.

Then he rolled to his back, his hands clamped on her hips, and pulled her against the length of his cock. His gaze burned with dark desire, and he watched her body move, his features tight with control. A hand stroked her belly and a thumb dipped into the dewy moisture of her release. He brought his hand to his mouth and licked his thumb clean. “Hmm.”

Being the object of his attention renewed her arousal. Her heart pumped fast, and she flexed her hips with quick moves. A broad hand cupped her breast, thumbing her nipple and sending zings of pleasure straight to her pussy. When his hands stroked her back, she stiffened and arched away from his touch. No one touched her scars.

“It’s okay. I want to touch all of you, Meghan.”

His reassuring tone took away her fears. She relinquished herself to the sensations his touch created and her orgasm hit, stealing her breath.

Bo rose, placed her feet flat on the mattress, and embraced her back, grunting as he powered in his last thrusts and let out a resounding groan of satisfaction.

Meghan dropped her forehead to his shoulder and reveled in the glow of their lovemaking. He eased them down to the mattress and covered them with the blanket.

Hours later, the flap of a bird’s wings woke Meghan. The scent of coffee filled the air, and she opened to eyes to see Bo outlined by the breaking dawn. “Heading out?”

“Work to be done.”

She struggled to sit up. “Here, let me cut off that thong.”

“Don’t. I’m keeping it.”

“Why?”

“To remind me who binds my heart.”

BACKSTAGE PASS

Cynthia D’Alba

I
glanced around my assigned hotel suite with a mixture of awe and gratitude. While I might have given myself the birthday trip to Las Vegas to see Cody Jarrod—my absolute favorite country singer—in concert, my bank account couldn’t have begun to pay for these accommodations.

The plush one-bedroom corner suite with floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a 180-degree panoramic view of the Las Vegas strip with all its gaudy loveliness, was a birthday present from my best friend, Leslie. Fifteen hundred square feet. Deep-pile beige carpet. Enormous living room with overstuffed sofas and chairs. Dining table for six. Master bedroom with a raised platform, king-sized bed and thousand-thread-count sheets. Marble master bathroom with a two-person whirlpool and a glass-enclosed shower. It boggled my mind to imagine all the wicked things I could do in this suite if only I had someone to do them with…and maybe I would.

My friends worried about my solo travel to Vegas. I’d tried to
convince everyone that I was fine alone. However, I had to admit I’d gone through a sex dry spell. It wasn’t entirely my fault. Real men couldn’t hold a candle to my fantasy man, Cody Jarrod.

I made my way back to the bar in the living room where Krug champagne chilled on the bar’s marble top, icy drops of sweat running down the neck. I turned the bottle a couple of times while I studied the nibbles hotel catering had supplied—fresh strawberries, whipped cream, grapes, small sandwiches and a cake. Being a foodie, I was in heaven, but my friends had promised me there would be more to the evening than food and liquor.

Leslie had planned something special to make this a birthday to remember. I worried a little about her gift. One of her fantasies was sex with a professional male escort. A man who knew his way around the female body. I’d told her she’d watched Richard Gere in
American Gigolo
too many times. She’d laughed and told me to answer the door and enjoy the evening.

I twisted out the cork on the Krug champagne and filled a crystal flute. My hand shook a little as I lifted the glass to my lips.

While she’d never confirmed my guess, I knew Leslie well enough to suspect she was indeed sending a male escort to my room for the night. While I was nervous about the idea, my dry spell had gone on long enough. I was getting a man who knew his way around a woman’s body. Could there be a better present…or better friend?

I moved to the windows, taking my champagne with me, and watched the flashing neon lights of the strip. From this height, they all looked like gems winking under the fluorescent lights of a jewelry store.

A doorbell rang, and I startled. Sudden awareness of what I was doing dampened my thong with arousal juices. Could I have sex with a stranger, no matter how professional he was?

The breath caught in my lungs at my first glance into the hall.

Dressed in worn jeans that cupped his groin like a lover’s hand, a yoked snap shirt, and holding a cowboy hat in one hand stood the man my friend had hired for the evening. The lips surrounding my pussy swelled in response.

His brown hair fell in silky strands of waves and curls along his neck and behind his ears. One lock hung casually over his brow, and I clenched my fingers to keep from pushing it back.

My friend had found Cody Jarrod’s doppelganger as my evening fuck. My fantasy combined with hers.
Thank you, Leslie
.

Piercing green eyes glanced at me, the only difference between this guy and the real Cody Jarrod. I’d read his eyes were hazel, but the rest of him was dead-on perfect. The man looked down at the piece of paper in his hand.

“Are you Faith Myers?” His deep voice was thick with a Southern accent, not exactly a match to Cody Jarrod’s voice but close enough for me. His chiseled cheeks brandished a five o’clock shadow, a style the country singer was known for. The thought of the gentle scratch of that beard against my inner thighs sent a shiver running down my spine.

My gaze slid from that delicious curl over his brow down to broad shoulders and a firm chest covered by a shirt that seemed to beg to be unsnapped. Yeah, I could do that. I let my eyes roam down to a set of dusty, worn cowboy boots. I smiled. This guy had gone all out to fulfill my fantasy.

“Faith Myers?”

“Oh, yes. Sorry. Come on in. Call me Faith, please.”

The Cody clone folded up the piece of paper he’d been reading and shoved it into the front pocket of his jeans. I stuck my hand in his waistband and pulled him through the door.

“I—”

I placed my fingers over his lips. “I know who you are.” My insides hummed with anticipation. Dampness seeped between my thighs. Now that I’d seen my birthday present, my fingers itched to unwrap it.

He grinned, which didn’t exactly match the smile I’d seen Cody use onstage, but again, close enough to shoot my libido through the ceiling. “Great. Then you know why I’m here.”

“I do, and I’ll admit I was a little hesitant about the whole idea but…” I shrugged. “Once I got used to the idea, I’ve been looking forward to meeting you all day.”

His mouth quirked at the corner. “Well, I’m always happy to meet a fan. I believe I’m supposed to tell you happy birthday and give you a birthday kiss.”

I almost laughed. Oh yeah, I’d take that kiss. It just wouldn’t be on my face. “Would you like a glass of champagne, Cody?” I almost choked on the name. For a minute, I wondered what his real name was. Of course, it didn’t matter.

“Been a long time since I’ve had champagne. Most of the time it’s beer or whiskey,” he said, keeping up the cowboy country singer persona. I appreciated his efforts.

“So, how do we go about this?” I asked, handing him a flute of Krug.

“This?” He took the glass, a ripple of confusion rolling across his face.

“Just stand there a second,” I said. “I want to get a good look before you get naked.”

He choked on the champagne he’d just sipped. “Naked?”

I walked around him, taking a couple of extra seconds to admire his ass in those tight jeans.

“Well, it
is
my birthday, so I think I should get to see you naked,” I said as I completed my visual tour of my present.
“Don’t you? Or am I moving too fast? I’ve never been with a male, er, professional escort before.” I gulped down my champagne. “I mean, you look like Cody Jarrod…a lot. You don’t have his voice or speech pattern down pat, but I’ll give your agency credit. They did an awesome job finding you for me.”

“Finding me?” His brow furled. “Professional what?”

“I’m sorry. I know you’re the professional escort, but I’d rather be upfront.” I drank my champagne for courage. “I’ve had a little, um, dry spell, sexually. My friends hired you, hoping you can put an end to that.”

Cody’s Adam’s apple moved up and down as he drained his champagne flute. “Well, this isn’t what I expected,” he murmured.

I smiled. “Like I said, I’m not really sure how to proceed. Is this right?” I jerked his shirttail from his jeans and pulled the ends apart until the snaps began to pop open.

Cody’s eyes widened.

I loved that he was playing along with my little game. As I reached for the hat he still held, it dawned on me what was going on, why he was letting me make the advances. Obviously, he’d been warned I might be a little shy and uncomfortable at first, seeing as this was my first time with a paid escort. He was letting me set the pace.