Take Me Again (2 page)

Strangely, a sense of loss swept over Dolan. For a moment, he was speechless and it appeared his feet didn't work any better. Like an idiot he just stood there. Add the fact that he couldn't keep his eyes off her and he felt more the fool.

That's when it happened. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. Every muscle inside him melted. It took only a moment for him to realize he was staring at her like some love-sick high school boy.

Whoa there, partner
.

He mentally pulled himself together. Tired, he rationalized and slowly headed back to the bar to retrieve his drink. Glass cool against his palm, he raised the amber to his lips and took a sip. The whiskey burned so good down his throat. With a clink he placed the glass back on the bar and scanned the crowd. Damned if his gaze wasn't pulled back to the dance floor.

Damn. That little filly could move.

Her body swayed, her feet not missing a step as the cowboy guided her around the floor. As she twirled, her hair floated on the breeze. He couldn't help wondering what it would smell like if he buried his nose deep into its softness.

What was wrong with him? He rubbed a palm over his eyes. Maybe he just needed to leave and go to bed. Before he removed his hand, the image of sexy turquoise eyes popped into his mind. Once again his gaze was drawn to the dance floor by some invisible force. He found himself taking a step toward her.

On the tail end of a spin, she glanced his way. Their eyes met and for a second it felt like time stood still. It was just him—her. Something strange and provocative passed between them.

What the hell?

He was left hanging onto the moment as the cowboy who held her whisked her away and broke their contact. Dolan took another step toward the dance floor. Something was not right. His heart was racing. His breath hitched as he attempted to reel in his emotions.

His full attention was on one redhead who danced seductively to the rhythm of the music. What he would give to have those hips moving against his, her arms bound around him—

A slap on the back ripped him out of the bewitchment she had cast upon him. He blinked, sounds and sights coming back into focus, as well as Rowdy Jackson, a friend from Colorado, standing beside him.

He frowned. “You okay?"

"Hell yes.” Dolan's voice rose with recognition. He jutted his hand out in welcome. “Thought you were coming in tomorrow."

Rowdy was relocating from Denver. No one would know that the six-foot cowboy was a genius with a computer. He had exchanged riding broncos for a keyboard. A local company was paying him a bundle to overhaul their current system.

"Wrapped things up early. Nothing in the Rocky Mountains keeping me, so I hit the road.” Rowdy scanned his surroundings. “Stopped by the house, but you weren't there. We still good for this weekend?” He was bunking with Dolan until the closing of his home scheduled for Monday morning.

Rowdy's grin deepened when his gaze lit on the dance floor. “Well I'll be damned.” Stripping his Stetson off his head, he started to speak but the ringing of a cell phone interrupted him. On the second ring, his friend glanced down at the phone hanging from Dolan's waist. “Going to answer that?"

Well fuck. So much for a night out on the town
. Dolan wedged the cell from his belt, flipped the cover open, and pressed it to his ear.

"
Crane
?” There was urgency in the caller's breathless voice.

Dolan gripped the telephone. “Yes."

"G-grain. Mare got into—” In the background he heard the young male cry out in distress as he dropped the telephone and then scrambled for it.

"Hello?” Dolan stole a glance at the woman of his dreams. Heavy eyelids were shuttered as she stared up at her partner as he spoke to her. “Who is this?"

"Wood. Travis Wood.” The seventeen-year-old sounded scared and close to tears, judging by his quivering voice.

It was just a guess, but Dolan figured one of their mares had gotten into the grain. Not a good thing for a horse. “How bad is it?” Dammit. He could see his opportunity to spend the evening with the redhead slip through his fingers.

"Don't know. God. I-I can't believe this. I just turned my back for a moment. Dad is going to kill me. Can you come quick?"

"Be there in fifteen.” Dolan turned to Rowdy. “Gotta go. Sorry.” Stuffing his hand into his jeans, he pulled out a house key and tossed it to his friend. “Make yourself at home.” Without another word, he turned and rushed for the exit.

As the music ended, Tracy Marx stepped out of the cowboy's arms. Damn. What was his name? Was it John? Paul? George? Ringo? A silent chuckle tickled her throat.

With a sultry expression, he smiled down at her, sliding his palms up her bare arms. “How about another dance?"

"Dance?” She glanced at him not really seeing him. Shamefully, her mind wandered to another—one who'd left her wanting with a single look. The flame had sparked again when their eyes had met once more.

The whole time they'd sashayed across the floor all she could think of was the dark-haired cowboy who appeared out of nowhere. Even when Tom—
yes, Tom was his name
—had suggested they find a quieter place to talk all she could think of was blue-black hair and eyes dark as the night.

She scanned the room in search of her mystery man. Disappointment hit her hard when the spot where he had last stood was vacant. Reluctantly, she drew her attention back to Tom and his question. “Can't. Promised the next dance to—"

Crap
. Forgot that guy's name too. She never had problems with her memory. Guess she had too much on her mind tonight.

The stout cowboy she had met earlier sidled up to her. “Charles,” he said slipping an arm around her waist to pull her back firmly against his body. “My turn."

Tom stiffened. His brows tugged down into a scowl. For a moment, she thought he might raise a ruckus.

Men were gutsier then she remembered. They could be so primitive. Give them a drink or two and they became throwbacks from the Stone Age, fighting to resolve all their disagreements.

Tracy released a pent-up breath when Tom finally tipped his hat. “Later, sweetheart."

"Not if I have anything to say about it,” Charles whispered in her ear.

Her equilibrium was shot to hell when he twirled her around and into his embrace. His feet immediately started to move to the quick beat of the music. Lightheaded, she missed the first step, but caught the next one to glide across the floor. He held her confidently, guiding her into each move easily.

"So, little lady, where you from?"

Little? She was five-eight, one or two inches shorter than him. Judging by his solid build the man was a bull-rider. Of course, she'd been wrong before. “Nebraska,” she answered.

Tracy wasn't prepared when Charles abruptly spun her twice, drawing her firmly against him on the final spin. But it was the knee wedged between her legs that made her attention perk up. He rubbed his thigh up hers. The large bulge in his jeans pressed against her abdomen was difficult to miss. The man was aroused. He ground his hips to hers emphasizing the point before giving her a devilish grin.

Good ol’ Charlie expected a reaction, but she wasn't biting.
Not my type
. Besides she was just here to burn off some energy. Tomorrow was a big day for her.

Yeah. He might give her a good ride, but she was looking for something more, someone who could ignite a fire inside her with just a look. Someone like the cowboy she'd exchanged glances with before hitting the dance floor. Her thoughts wandered back to a pair of dark eyes. The bad boy persona the dark-haired cowboy wore screamed excitement and adventure. That's what she wanted—hungered for.

A light kiss pressed to her neck brought her back to the man that held her. “I've never seen you here before. Visiting?” His voice deepened as he rubbed his cheek against hers. The scent of sandalwood was strong. She preferred the light spicy scent of the dark-haired cowboy. It left her speechless and horny.

What was she saying? She didn't even know the guy.

"Yes. No.” Truthfully, she wasn't sure. Her uncle had promised to help her establish a business in Santa Ysabel. Back in Omaha her mother had agreed to watch Sheldon until she found a home and babysitter. Again her chest squeezed.

It had been nine months since her sister's unexpected death. Shelly had been thrown from a horse. Her head had struck the only rock in the field. Tracy's ex hadn't appreciated becoming a parent so soon, but she had no alternative. Her mother had enough health problems of her own. Lois Marx had a bad heart. Besides Tracy was Sheldon's godmother and she loved the three-year-old as if he were her own. Leaving Nebraska was a new start for both of them.

Charles chuckled. “Which is it?"

"What?” Blinking hard, she tried to recall what he asked. She had shit for a memory tonight. What she needed to do was pull herself together, but it was difficult when she had so much on her mind. Other than college, she'd never been this far away from home, never been alone. Even married she had lived only a mile away from home.

He eased his hold putting enough distance between them so he stared into her eyes. “Are you visiting or staying?"

Multiple choices—this should be easy. Yet she remained silent pondering his question.

Just pick one
, a voice in her head chastised.

"Staying,” she heard herself say.

There, that wasn't so hard
.

Yet saying it aloud authenticated her decision and she wasn't sure it was the right one. What if she couldn't find enough work? What if the people in California didn't like her? She was a country-girl born and raised. What did she know about dealing with people of influence? What she did know were animals, especially horses.

An ear-to-ear grin tugged at Charles's mouth. His hand fell to rest on her ass. “Need a place to stay?"

His innuendo didn't escape her. She cocked a brow, grasping his hand to guide it back to her waist. “Got it covered, but thanks for the invitation."

His palm worked its way back down to ride the top of her ass. “Does that mean tonight is out?"

Men! She shook her head in disbelief.

Relief surfaced when the song came to an end. Hastily, she stepped out of his embrace. “Thanks, but I have plans tonight. Now if you'll excuse me.” Cutting through the crowd, she avoided Tom when he nodded at her, choosing instead to head for the line growing outside the bathroom door. It was as good as any place for her to catch her bearings.

Tracy probably shouldn't have ventured outside her uncle's estate tonight. But her fifteen-year-old cousin had recommended she check out Jester's party. She didn't want to speculate how Laurie knew about this place. From everything Tracy'd seen so far it was a meat market and the perfect place to pick up a one-night stand, which was exactly what she was in the mood for, but it would have to wait.

There would be questions if she didn't come home tonight. An inquisition was something she didn't need to deal with. But she might have stood a cross-examination for the tall, dark cowboy. She took one more look around the room and wondered if her mystery man had gone down the flight of stairs to the basement.

"Looking for someone, sugar?” The whiskey-smooth male's voice sounded familiar.

She turned and a smile fell across her face. “Rowdy."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and raised her off her feet to twirl her around, nearly knocking over two other women in line. They cast a disgruntled look, but remained quiet as she slithered down his firm body, raising her skirt to where it barely covered her butt. She gave the hem a tug as he settled her on her feet.

He held her at arm's length. “I couldn't believe it was you waltzing around the dance floor. What the hell brings you to this neck of the woods?"

"I could say the same to you.” She took in his athletic build, knowing exactly what hid beneath his cotton shirt; lean strong muscles. Long powerful legs were encased in snug denim that rode low on his lean hips. Yep. She remembered the bulge between his thighs too. Hastily she jerked her gaze back to his face.

A wicked grin fell across his face. He pulled her back into his arms, giving her a squeeze. “Here with someone?” he murmured against her ear.

"No."

"That makes two of us.” He nibbled on her earlobe. “How about I take you home, tie you up and have my way with you?"

Chills raced across her skin as his hair tickled her neck. The man was gorgeous. Peeking from beneath his Stetson, sandy blond hair framed his tanned face.

"Yes” was on the tip of her tongue. His sexy invitation almost made her forget she needed to call it a night soon. “Sounds delicious, but I'll have to pass. I work tomorrow."

His lips were soft trailing along her jaw line and cheeks, until his mouth whispered across hers. “Are you sure?” He caressed his tongue along the crease of her lips. “If I recall, we made some sweet music together."

Sweet music? That was an understatement.

Rowdy had been her first lover after the divorce. She had been scared and uncertain. He had been patient and understanding and joked around to make her feel comfortable. They had talked, but more importantly he had listened, asking questions and appearing genuinely interested in her plans for the future.

Little touches here—kisses there—and before the night ended she found herself locked in his arms, revealing some of her deepest desires. At the moment there hadn't seemed to be any danger in her frankness about her sexual desires. He was a stranger passing through town. Hell. After a couple of drinks and another tumble between the sheets, she had even told him about her darkest fantasy—a ménage a trois.

To her surprise he hadn't been judgmental. He didn't make her feel as if her wayward thoughts were disturbing or wrong. In fact, he appeared to be aroused by her confession, taking her in his arms and making passionate love to her once more.

Embarrassment heated her face.
I can't believe I revealed that fantasy.

He smoothed a hand gently over her cheek as if he could sense her sudden discomfort. “It's me, baby.” He looked at her with warm brown eyes. “I can make your fantasies come true.” He pressed his mouth to her ear. “All of them,” he whispered.