The Bull Rider's Collection (52 page)

Abandoning the curve of her neck, his attention moved down her body to her breasts. Instead of lingering, he sat up and finished unbuttoning his own shirt. Taylor had pushed the front open, allowing the fabric to bunch up on his arms. He pulled off her tank. He pushed down the cups of her bra, revealing her pink and creamy breasts. Her nipples were hard and he took one in his mouth, lightly pinching the other between his fingertips. He felt her body rise to meet him, and he increased his pace, switching his attention from one breast to the other until she cried out.

He repositioned himself on the bed and unzipped her jeans, pulling the fabric over her narrow hips. The motion exposed a tiny, silk bikini that matched her black lacy bra. He smiled. Jennifer, his former girlfriend, had once called it sex underwear. Every time he’d seen Taylor in a state of undress, she always wore these silky delights. He abandoned all thought except stripping off the tiny lace and seeing what was hidden underneath.

He reached down and pulled off the small piece of fabric. Parting her legs, he leaned into her, licking her thighs all the way up to her hot core. He heard her short intake of breath as his mouth covered her, and he started exploring her with his tongue. As his warm breath hit her, she tightened until he slipped a finger into her moist opening. He felt her body arch into his mouth as she cried out.

Moving his tongue and finger in the same motion, he could feel her hands in his hair, urging him on. Suddenly, she pressed herself hard against his mouth, begging him to go faster. Listening to her cries of pleasure, Jesse felt his cock tighten against his jeans. She closed her thighs, pushing his head away from her, and sat up, pulling him toward her.

“My turn.” She pushed him up off the bed and quickly unbuckled his jeans. He almost came with her touch, but pulled himself back. He wondered how long he’d be able to hold off if she was really doing what he imagined.

Her lips curved around the head of his penis and slipped down the shaft. He shifted, trying to think about anything other than her mouth on him, wanting to make it last longer than the eight seconds bull riders were teased about. Jesse needed this feeling to go on forever. She tugged and licked and teased until it was all he could do to not go over the edge. He put his hand on her shoulder, forcing out the words, “If you don’t stop, I’ll explode.”

She pulled away and looked up at him. “Isn’t that the point?” Her head dropped back down, and Jesse gave in.

When he finished, he stepped out of his jeans and crawled into bed next to her. He drew her back into his body and spooned her. “We’re not done,” he warned, whispering in her ear.

“I’m counting on it,” she murmured back. He could tell she was almost asleep from the tone of her voice.

When Jesse awoke later, it was still dark, and he felt Taylor’s legs pressing in against his hips. She’d climbed on top of him. He reached for her, pulling her down into a kiss. And they made love.

This time, Taylor was the one to slip out of the bed, grab her clothes and her suitcase, and practically run to the elevator. She finally took a breath when the doors closed without Jesse’s hand slipping in and preventing her escape.

She wasn’t proud of her actions. When she’d woken up to feel his arm draped around her, she’d had to run. The echoes of him whispering her name in her ear as they fell back asleep after round two had haunted her thoughts. She’d had to get away. Before she’d let her heart speak and say stupid stuff. Like, “I love you, Jesse.” Or, “Stay with me.” He didn’t want forever, not with her. No matter what he said, or what Barb claimed. One moment at a time had been enough. He’d agreed to her statement. And now, she felt like the fool. The very unprotected fool. Why hadn’t she left him in the hallway? And why, oh, God, why, hadn’t she insisted on a condom? This was not the way Taylor DeMarco acted. Ever.

A taxi sat outside the hotel, and she slid into the back. “Airport.”

“No problem. What airline?” The taxi driver, a young woman with her hair cut short, asked as she started the engine, glancing in the mirror.

“United.” Taylor didn’t want to meet the girl’s eyes. She didn’t want any human contact to break her misery. She just wanted to leave and forget about last night’s pleasure. The feel of his chest as she ran her hands across that tan, muscular body. The feel of his mouth against hers. The feel of his mouth on her neck, her breasts, her …

“You here for the rodeo?” The driver’s voice broke into Taylor’s memory, and she swallowed before answering.

“Seeing a friend,” she said. Which was true, and not true at the same time. When Jesse arrived back in town she would simply explain that gallery business had called her back. As the soon-to-be new owner, he should understand. After that, she’d just have to keep from being alone with him. Ever again. She couldn’t be one of Jesse’s girls. Not a stop on the rodeo trail. She had responsibilities. She had the gallery. Or at least she hoped she had the gallery still.

Taylor pulled out her BlackBerry and thumbed through her e-mails. When she found one from Brit, she opened and read the short message.

Reading the words aloud, she frowned as the implication sunk in. “Found the contract on your desk. Dropped it off at Mike’s, so one less thing for you to hurry back to finish. Have fun!”

Jesse’s contract had been filed as her own. She hoped Mike wasn’t in the office on Friday. She dialed his work number, but of course he wasn’t in at—she glanced at her watch—5:00
A.M.
on a Saturday. The beep sounded and she left the lawyer a message. “Hey, don’t file that last artist agreement. We need to make some changes.”

Then she called Mike’s cell and left the same message. She had hoped he would answer, but maybe he slept more than she did.

She might be able to explain slipping away from Jesse without saying goodbye. It would be harder to explain stealing his first artist contract. Taylor watched as the road turned from city to desert as they headed through the outskirts of town toward the airport. She should turn around. Grab some coffee and donuts and pretend like she was just going for breakfast.

With your suitcase in tow? How would you explain that? You were afraid he’d try on your clothes?
She stared at her reflection in the window. No, she’d already gone too far to go back. Even if she regretted the impulse to run. Now, later, and probably forever. The cab slowed next to the curb, and she gave the driver a twenty. Waving off her change, Taylor opened the taxi door and strode to the ticket counter, hoping for an easy transfer to an earlier flight.

Three hours later she was home in Boise. Taylor dropped her suitcase into her trunk, turned the car left instead of right toward home, and drove to Eagle, where her favorite hot springs spa was located. She knew the owner and hoped there was at least one room available. She wanted to hide. Hide and enjoy the services of Sally’s best masseuse. She tossed her phone into the passenger seat. She’d turned off the cell as soon as she’d climbed on the plane. She couldn’t talk to anyone until she got her head straight. She’d turn it back on Monday. If she decided to go in to work. The gallery was dark on Mondays, so technically she wouldn’t be missed unless she didn’t show on Tuesday.

But Brit would know. Taylor usually did payroll and the majority of paperwork on Mondays. So most of the time, Brit came in to help, or gossip. Mostly to gossip.

Taylor couldn’t worry about that now. All she needed to do was get Jesse Sullivan out of her brain long enough to make some intelligent decisions. Decisions that weren’t based on how amazing he’d made her feel last night, or how soft his caress had been. She’d had lovers in the past, she wasn’t a saint. But she had never made love before. The experience with the other men had been sex. Fun, mind-blowing sex.

Last night with Jesse, she’d felt a connection. More than just their bodies joining.

Being with Jesse had overwhelmed her senses. She felt like their limbs had melted into each other, becoming one. She pulled her suitcase out of the trunk and stared at the cottage-style building situated close to the Boise River. Now she definitely knew that she needed some perspective. She was talking gibberish, like she was feeling a strong emotion. Like she was feeling love. For Jesse. She’d met the guy less than a month ago, so at the most, she was in lust. Not love. She decided her first stop would be the spinning room. She’d work this feeling out on a bike. And if that didn’t work, she’d run.

She didn’t want to think about what she’d have to do after running if Jesse Sullivan stayed in her head.

• • •

Two days later, Taylor snuck into the gallery, well rested with her head on straight. She felt ready to deal with all the bullcrap. As soon as Taylor walked in, Brit crossed the lobby to greet her. She took her arm and whispered, “Where have you been?” When Taylor hesitated, Brit took Taylor’s purse and straightened Taylor’s suit jacket. “Never mind. You can tell me later. You have a visitor in your office. I offered him coffee, but he declined.”

Steeling herself, Taylor thought about the decision she’d made during her mud bath at the spa. No Jesse, no sex, nothing but business. She straightened her shoulders and opened the door to her office, her lie to Jesse already formulated in her mind. “Sorry about disappearing this weekend, I had gallery business.”

“You disappointed me, Taylor. I thought maybe we’d catch a performance of the traveling ballet troupe in town.” Mike sat in her chair, waving her into her own office. He held a hand over the phone’s mouthpiece. “I’m on a call with some people who are very interested in investing in a gallery. One more substantial investment and I’ve solved your problem. You’ll own your own business.”

Not Jesse.
Taylor set her planner on the desk and exhaled. She waved Mike out of her chair. “I won’t be the owner. I’ll just have more people telling me what I need to do.”

He shook his head. “Everyone has a boss, Taylor.” He focused on the call as he walked away, allowing her to slip into the chair he’d just vacated. He left the room, and Brit strolled in.

“So our new employee stood me up this weekend.” Brit sat on the chair in front of Taylor’s desk. She peeled a banana. “I hate to hit you with this first thing, but I thought you should know.”

“Angie? She didn’t show up for her shift? Did she at least call?” Taylor booted up her computer. She didn’t need this, not today. Jesse would be sauntering in that door at any moment wanting to know why she had disappeared. Despite two days of contemplation at the spa, she hadn’t come up with what she wanted to say. A good excuse for her behavior.

“She called, said she wasn’t feeling well, and that she’d be in on Tuesday.” Brit shook her head. “I hope she won’t flake out—I kind of like having her around. It gives me more time to work on the upcoming exhibits without having to stay late every night.”

Mike came back into the office and slid his phone into his pocket. “What’s going on?”

Taylor clicked open her e-mail program and saw an e-mail from Jesse. She clicked the program shut. She’d deal with it once her office wasn’t the gathering spot. “Nothing’s going on, Mike. Angie just called in sick, that’s all. People get sick.”

Mike put his hand on the chair where Brit sat. “You know, there’s no protection for employees under federal law until they’ve been on the payroll for a year. Maybe firing her now would make Jesse reconsider buying the gallery? They seem to be a pretty tight family.”

Taylor’s stomach soured at the thought. Just how low would she have to stoop to save the gallery? She shook her head. “We’re not playing dirty. Just see if you can find investors. If we don’t put together a package by the end of the week, I’ll resign myself to the sale.”

“But Taylor, I think there’s an opportunity here.” Mike stepped closer to the desk. “Your folks will come around. I know they really don’t want to sell. You know your mom can be a bit of a wild card.”

She looked at the glee in Mike’s eyes. Had he always been this determined? Would he do anything, or hurt anyone to win? She leaned back in her chair. “Mike, just leave. I’m not playing your game.”

Brit must have seen the pain in Taylor’s eyes, because she stood and took Mike’s arm. “Taylor needs some time alone.” Mike didn’t fight; he let Brit walk him to the door. When she returned to the office, she didn’t come in, opting instead to lean against the doorframe.

“What?” Taylor pulled the pile of mail closer and started ripping open envelopes.

Brit didn’t answer. Finally Taylor looked up at her friend and sighed.

“What have I started?” She set the torn envelope down on her desk.

This time, Brit answered her. “I don’t know. Mike seems like he’s more invested in saving the gallery than you are. I haven’t seen him act like that since you dumped him freshman year.”

Taylor cocked her head and stared at Brit. “I don’t remember dating Mike.”

Brit smiled sadly. “You thought you were just going to the game with a group of friends. However, Mike never got over it. When he got up the courage to ask you out again, you were already dating Ken.”

“You can’t be serious. That was years ago. There’s no way Mike is interested in me. The business, yes. He’s worked at the firm that handles the gallery and our family business since he left law school.” Taylor thought about Mike’s comment about the ballet. Sure, they’d gone places together, but she didn’t consider that dating. The question was, did he? “I’ve never seen him that way. He’s always just been Mike. A friend.”

“History always comes back to bite us,” Brit said. “Do you want some coffee? Some girl talk?”

“Coffee yes, talk no.” Taylor glanced at her computer screen. She needed to find out what Jesse had written. Then she needed to talk to Angie and see if she was okay.

She waited for Brit to return with the cup and a filled carafe. “Close the door, please.”

Brit started to say something, nodded instead, and clicked the door shut behind her.

Taylor stared at the door for a few seconds before returning to her laptop and opening Jesse’s e-mail. She quickly read through the three lines. Short, to the point, and, surprisingly forgiving.
Sorry you couldn’t stay. Hope everything is all right. Jesse.
It was like he’d read her fear the way he read the bulls he rode. Twisting left to keep her from bucking him off, he backed away. There was an implication—no, a promise—that he would call. When had she turned into a scared deer, needing to be herded toward the safety of the forest?