Heart of Steele (26 page)

Steele grabbed her hips and lifted her to his
mouth. His kisses rimmed her bare pussy, nibbling and sucking. His
tongue lapped tentatively at her and she wanted to stop the
torture, grab his hair, and make him her slave. “Love my cunt.” The
dirty demand came on a wild breath.

He groaned and pressed his face into her, his
tongue diving deep inside her opening, his hands holding her where
he wanted her.

Sliding his tongue up to her clit, he used
his lips to push aside her hood and take her little bud into his
mouth. Using his teeth to scrape it gently, he sent lightning up
her body to crackle in her brain, firing every synapse at once and
threatening to force her into an orgasm

She resisted, wanting more from him,
extending the pleasure. Taking her clit between his teeth, he
flicked it wildly, raising chills that slammed through her,
tightening her nipples and roaring like thunder in her brain.

Tracy grabbed the sheets and arched her back,
not able to hold out against his loving assault on her senses. She
tensed every muscle and let the sizzle of the lightning send her
spinning through a white-hot universe that flashed behind her
eyelids. Her body started to shake and she shouted his name.

As she tumbled back and landed softly on the
bed, he kissed her mound and sucked at the juices trickling from
her core.

“Beautiful, sugar, you’re everything I’ve
ever needed.”

A shiver of delight rattled through her and
nothing mattered except the way he made her feel when he was near.
“Hold me.”

He eased her to the middle of the bed and lay
on his side facing her, his shaft pulsing hot against her hip, his
arm across her stomach. “Good for you?”

A wild laugh escaped her. “Yes, couldn’t you
tell?”

Suckling her nipple into his mouth, he
hummed, setting vibrations radiating through her breast to her
belly. “I could tell, and I’m glad I rented a house instead of a
hotel room, or we’d have neighbors calling the sheriff.”

Tracy played with his hair as he teased her
nipples and brought her back to a level of need that made her want
to jump him and ride wild. “That climax took my whole body with
it.” Rubbing her thighs together, she upped the intensity of the
desire he built in her.

“You made the windows rattle.”

“Let’s make them shatter, Steele. I want you
inside me.”

He lifted his head, his eyes dark gray, his
teeth bared. “You sure you’re ready for me, sugar?” He slid his
hand slowly down her stomach and cupped her mound. One long finger
slid inside her.

Her slit closed around him, needing all of
him. “More than ready.” She spread her legs, enticing him to
hurry.

“Wet and tight.” He pulled his finger out and
licked it. “Sweet and hot.”

She moaned as lust pulled her belly
tight.

He rolled away, then with the snap of latex,
he knelt between her legs and touched just the tip of his cock to
her opening. “This, you and me, I want this in my life, Tracy.”

Lifting her hips, she focused on his eyes.
“Slowly, Steele. Let me feel every inch of you.”

With a growl, he pushed into her, stretching
her, as deep as she could take him, then even more as her body
adjusted to his length. “Is that what you want, sugar?”

She held out her arms to him. “You know it
is. You know what I crave, Steele.”

He pressed his body down onto hers, his chest
hairs tickling her nipples. Sliding one hand under her head, he
threaded his fingers into her hair.

She scratched lightly along his back.

He shuddered and moved his shaft inside her,
torturing her with the slow withdrawals, the easy way he filled her
again and again as if it were the first time. His hand cupped her
ass cheek and he tilted her hips with each deliberate thrust.

“I’m going to want you every minute of every
day.” A small wrinkle formed between his eyebrows.

She rubbed it away with the pad of her thumb.
“I can live with that.” She tugged his head down for a kiss.

He let her lead for a minute, then he took
over. His tongue plunged into her mouth as his hips worked faster
with each thrust. His pelvic bone on her clit sent skitters of
electricity through her body. Her brain felt like it was
underwater, her body rolling and bobbing with the waves.

“Sugar.” His breath matched her own panting,
his hips jackhammering his shaft into her as his body stiffened and
random muscles jerked.

Slogging through her own orgasm, she raked
her nails down his back and he shouted with one last ferocious
thrust into her.

As the waves softly deposited her on solid
ground again, she pulled Steele down on top of her, loving his
weight, the sweat on his chest, the scent of his body mixing with
her musk.

“Is this heaven?” She kissed his neck, salty
and hot against her lips.

He looked into her eyes. “It’s as close as
I’ve ever been.” He took care of the condom then rolled them so she
lay flat on top of him.

She lay there listening to his heart return
to normal. “Where do we go from here?”

“You tell me, Tracy. I’m through working like
there isn’t enough money in the world to earn. I’m done putting out
two albums a year and touring to sell them.”

She pushed up to look at him. “What do you
mean?”

He scooted them closer to the edge of the bed
and picked up his phone. He punched a few buttons.

“Are you calling for a pizza?”

His laugh rumbled through her belly.
“Better.” He turned his cracked phone toward her.

A photo of a grassy field with trucks parked
and surveyors standing at tripods. She looked at him, then back at
the photo. It took her a few moments to realize what he was showing
her. “You’re breaking ground?” Her eyes opened wide.

He nodded with a grin. “Yep. I’m ready to
change my life. I’ll move my operation to the ranch, leaving the
team in LA to handle things there. I’ll put out albums whenever I
want, whenever the songs are ready.”

“I’m so happy for you. Your father must be
ecstatic.”

“He is, the crazy old coot.”

“Steele.” She was surprised he’d say
something that derogatory.

“Tracy, that man faked his heart attack to
get Ryder and me together.”

“No. Really?” That seemed excessive,
especially with the high cost of healthcare. Of course, he was
probably a millionaire if not a billionaire like Steele.

“I have a lot to tell you about the whole
mess, but somehow, his scheme worked out the way he’d planned.”

She played with the hairs on his chest.
“Evidently he’s not so crazy then, huh?”

He rolled her over again, landing on top of
her.

She squealed and giggled.

“Oh yeah, he’s crazy. I’m more than
half-crazy, too.” He kissed her, taking his time to play and tease.
“In case you hadn’t figured that out yet.”

“I can live with that.”

“Come back to the ranch with me.” He brushed
his fingers across her cheekbones. “Meet the family.”

“Ryder?” She almost hated to bring up the
subject.

“He’ll be there.”

“I don’t know him, but I’m glad you changed
your mind about him.” She traced his lips with her finger.

He kissed her fingertip. “I wasn’t seeing
things straight. I felt betrayed, foolish, and thought the world
would see me that way, too. Once I got past those obstacles, I
could see how important family was, compared to my career and my
squeaky-clean image in the music industry.”

She snorted. “Squeaky-clean? Steele McLairn,
the bad boy of the Hot Country Triple Threat?” She kissed him on
the lips. “But I know what you’re saying. You’ve never been trashed
by the tabloids. You’re one of the good guys.”

“Am I?” He gave her a crooked smile.

“You are.” She let her heart guide her. “And
whatever you have planned for your life, I want to be there to see
it.”

“We’ll make our future exactly what we want.”
The green in his irises glittered. “I have a clear vision of our
lives together, Tracy, and it’s going to be better than anything
we’ve ever dreamed of.”

She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms
around his neck. “You’re my heaven, Steele.”

He pulled her in tight, squeezing the breath
from her. “And you’re mine, sugarbeet.”

####

Ryder has his own story coming soon! It’s the third book in the Hot
Country Series, Rough Ryder, and wait until you meet the woman who
has hollered her way into his life! Rough Ryder is a work in
progress, so please
subscribe
to my newsletter
and be the first to know when it’s
available. Here’s a sneak peek:

Ryder Landry strummed the final notes on his
electric guitar as the sold-out crowd of eleven thousand in
Hershey, Pennsylvania, clapped and shouted.

He touched the brim of his black cowboy hat.
“Thank you!” As the lights behind him dimmed and his band left the
stage, a roadie took his axe and handed him an acoustic guitar.

“I’m gonna get a little personal, here,
Pennsylvania.” He slid the strap over his head and tested the
tuning. Perfect.

The crow roared as a stage tech set a tall
stool behind him.

He settled on the stool, one booted foot on
the bottom rung, one on the floor. He’d worn a black T-shirt, and
the lighting had turned it into an oven. He’d sweat through it
though, for his fans. Strumming a C chord, he took a breath. This
was the toughest part of his show, but it was something he needed
to do. For her. He glanced up at the ceiling, and mouthed, “For
you, Momma.”

The crowd went silent. “This is for a special
lady who’s not with us anymore.”

Lots of female voices came back with “ahs”
and “ohs.”

“I wrote this with a friend who didn’t want
any of the credit for it and—”

“Yeah, right! I’m that friend!” A female
voice carried all the way to the stage from the floor seating on
the right.

Insensitive bitch.

A few calls of “shut up” and some shushing
sounds came from that direction.

“All the proceeds from this song go to breast
cancer research.”

The crowd clapped.

He strummed the notes and began to sing, the
music flowing seamlessly, his voice holding steady even as emotion
flooded his chest. He missed her. She’d been gone ten months, and
the hole left in his life wasn’t shrinking any.

A ruckus sounded from the right side of the
audience. Voices and yelling.

He just kept playing. Shit like that happened
at every show. When he looked toward that area, he saw a big, white
sign, highlighted with flashlights, but he couldn’t read the
words.

During the last chorus, the person with the
sign came running toward the stage.

He ended the song short.

“You stole this song from me!” Her voice rang
clear. In each of her hands, she held a flashlight that highlighted
the sign she held above her head.
Ryder Landry stole this
song
.

The audience booed her.

Two security guards grabbed her, confiscated
her sign, and snuffed her flashlights.

The crowd went wild.

Ryder leaned forward and his personal
security guy stepped closer to him.

“Take her to my dressing room, Schmiddy. Keep
an eye on her, though.”

“Yes, sir.” He cleared the people in front of
him, jumped the bikerack holding the crowd back, and pushed his way
toward the woman.

Some concertgoers turned on their phone
lights and shined them on her as the three security people ushered
her out of the arena.

She was just a little thing. He was six-one
and Schmiddy was about his height, so she probably topped five feet
by just an inch or two. Her long strawberry-blonde hair flowed
straight and thick.

He’d always had a thing for gingers.

“Well, I guess I should be flattered.” Ryder
strummed another chord and waited for the noise level in the arena
to drop. “I’ve never had anyone go to those extremes to get my
attention.” He grinned and the crowd hooted.

“Next time, ginger...” He looked toward his
right. “Just throw your panties up on stage.”

The ladies in the audience screamed. And
damned if two pairs of hot little underwear didn’t land at his
feet. Damn, he loved his job.

After another fifteen minutes of acoustical,
and another hour of his regular set, plus three quick encores, he
was done. Until tomorrow night, when another eleven thousand fans
would be back for night two of this tour stop. He walked through
the backstage crowd, his manager and assistant by his side.

A dozen people congratulated him on a great
show, and when he reached his dressing room door, he held up a
hand. “Give me a half hour.”

The guys grinned. “Yes, sure thing, Ryder.”
They knew what was going to happen.

He wasn’t shy about bringing a woman
backstage to help him de-stress after a show. His cock jumped in
his jeans as a guard opened the door for him. That hot little
ginger was waiting for him, and he’d have her long hair wrapped
around his fist and her lips on his cock as soon as he got rid of
Schmiddy.

He stepped into the room.

She stood back in a corner. When she spun to
face him, her long, silky hair flowed like silk bedsheets. Her
tight little body, in a green sweater and jeans, presented him with
damn nice-sized breasts for someone so small.

“Hey, cutie, thanks for waiting for me.”
Ryder glanced at Schmiddy and nodded toward the exit. The guy got
moving and shut the door behind him. “Let me shower first, then
we’ll party.”

“I am not here to have sex with you.” She
advanced on him, stepping into the full lighting. Her hazel eyes
narrowed and her hands fisted at her thighs.

Her spitfire attitude just charged his
swelling cock even more. He took off his hat and sent it sailing
onto a chair. “Oh, yeah? What’cha want then?” He’d hear her out,
seduce her, then figure out if she was crazy or not before he
decided if he would bring her back to his hotel.