
In the Cards
by Cynthia Selwyn
Breathless Press
Calgary, Alberta
www.breathlesspress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
In the Cards
Copyright© 2011 Cynthia Selwyn
ISBN: 978-1-926930-41-1
Cover Artist: Dara England
Editor: Stephanie Parent
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotationsembodied in reviews.
Breathless Press
www.breathlesspress.com
When Zach O'Connor walked past a group of women, the world ended. And here, at a convention for women whose sole joy in life was to create the ultimate romantic hero, the world ended in chaos.
Romance writer Alexandrea Taylor stood beside a potted palm and watched her oldest and best male friend create pandemonium simply by striding toward her, with a smile on his perfect face and tight, faded blue jeans clinging to his perfect butt.
His battered black Stetson fit just so, highlighting the vivid blue of his eyes. His cowboy boot heels clicked, the sound growing louder as excited convention-goers' conversations sputtered into stunned silence.
Suitcases tipped when their owners gave up balancing them to watch him pass. Folders of carefully organized papers slipped from limp fingers to sprawl open, contents skidding across the floor. Handbags slid off weakened shoulders with thuds; tubes of lipstick, compacts, and pens clattered onto the floor. Coins clinked and rolled under lobby tables and chairs.
By the time Zach reached Alex, the floor was littered with personal items, and romance writers were drooling like diabetics in a chocolate factory.
Ignoring the devastation he'd created, he dropped his duffle at her feet, tossed his saddle ---his saddle, for Christ's sake---on one of the hotel chairs and pulled her into his arms. "Alex! Yo, sweet stuff, how's it hanging?"
"Not at all, thanks. I'm hang free." Alex tried hard to ignore the scent of him --- leather, horse, and warmth---and the feel of his manly, day's-end scruff. Tucked in his embrace, she felt heat flush down one side of her body and up the other, centering in her female bits where it sat, simmering in its usual useless anticipation. She tried to ignore the stares of her colleagues, as well. Unsuccessful on both counts. She slipped out of his grasp. "Trust you, Zach O'Connor, to bring the United Romance Writer Organization's well-oiled machinery to a grinding halt."
He winced under his hat. She noticed that several years of cowboy-ing, sun, and age had put tiny wrinkles in the corners of those engaging blue peepers.
Not that you could really see them through the camouflage of his thick black eyelashes.
It really wasn't fair for all that gorgeousness to go to one person. God had been working overtime the day He made Zach.
"Should I turn and look? Is it that bad?"
Alex peered around his shoulder. Recovered convention-goers were now whispering as they stared. "It's worse. Turn and wave or something, so they can stop ogling your butt."
Obediently, Zach did: he turned and---oh, God, no, not that---touched his hand to the brim of his cowboy hat. He nodded. "Afternoon, ladies," he drawled, silky smooth and sexy enough to cause a girl to come on her feet. His spurs cha-chinged as he turned to peer down at Alex. "How's that?"
"Useless." She shook her head. "They're going to have to call maintenance to mop up the drool."
"Stop being dramatic. Where's our room?" He bent and grabbed the horn of his saddle, hefting it over one of his broad shoulders as if it weighed nothing.
She felt the sighs of three hundred romance writers brush against her skin like a summer breeze. Dear God. Make him stop. "I'm dramatic? You're the one wearing spurs."
He lifted his foot and turned his ankle to look. "Oh. Yeah. I forgot."
He forgot. Of course he did. And elephants could fly. "You sound like a gunfighter in a bad Western when you walk. I hope you're not using them on Stars." Alex hefted up his duffle bag, staggering under its weight. "Holy mackerel. You didn't stuff Stars in here, did you? You do realize they don't allow horses in the rooms?"
Zach snorted. "Ha ha. Let's go. I want a shower."
She started for the room, questioning the wisdom of asking Zach to create a workshop for cowboy-romance writers. At the time, it had seemed like a great idea. She'd just finished reading yet another book where the author made a horse sound like a motorcycle, and it had driven her crazy.
Research, people. It's all in the research.
So she'd e-mailed Zach, and the rest was history. One member of the conference committee owned a farm and volunteered her barn and riding ring for the workshop, and the space for Zach's horse. Zach---whom she hadn't seen since Christmas---was available and willing to help out. And the attendees were ready to dish out any fees for this special off-site workshop.
The only glitch in the plan was the shortage of rooms at the hotel. She and Mr. Incredibly Gorgeous but Terribly Annoying had to share an executive suite at a reduced rate.
Darn. A bigger room, a lesser rate, and time spent with an old friend. It was hardly a glitch at all; more like a bonus.
At least that had been her attitude until an hour ago, when her editor had sprung a new project on her. Something dangerously new. Embarrassingly new, even. And asked her for a quick plot summary by the end of the weekend, complete with character information for the marketing department. If only she wasn't such a stickler for research...if only she couldn't help but imagine Zach was her hero, too.
Zach followed Alex to the room they'd share, watching the sway of her hips. She was being snarky, which meant she was nervous about something: being friends since junior high meant he knew most of her moods as well as he knew his own. He wondered what had her so upset and hoped it wasn't something he'd done. Like create a cyclone effect in the lobby of the hotel.
He didn't ask women to respond to him the way they did. It was embarrassing, truth be told. He could trust Alex to treat him as a human being and not as an object, which was why he liked being around her so much. More than liked, he admitted to himself. Lusted. So often, he needed to clench his hands so he didn't reach out and touch her.
Today she looked so worried, like he was about to bite her. Was it because they were rooming together? They'd never done that before, though they'd shared hotels. But she was practically engaged. Even though he wished he could bite and nibble her up one side and down the other, then settle in to suck and feast and...well, whatever...he wouldn't destroy her relationship with Tim. The guy was a snake, but she loved him. And he gave her a home and a sense of family, which was more than Zach could do right now.
Still...he got onto the elevator beside her, unable to stop himself from imagining how it would be to lock her in their hotel room and have his way with her. He'd start at her earlobes, then work his way down her neck to her collarbone, undo the buttons of her blouse, one at a time. With his teeth. He'd slide her bra away, spend some time slowly licking the curve of each of her rounded breasts with just the tip of his tongue, making her squirm.
He wondered if the soft globes were as generous as they appeared. Were they firm and high or soft and bouncy? Did she have large nipples or small ones? Dark red or soft pink? No matter what she had, he'd spend time licking and suckling at one breast, while toying with the other. Then he'd switch, taking his time, paying attention to each of her luscious tits, until she couldn't stand it anymore. He'd make her so crazy she'd rake her nails over his shoulder, begging for more than a teasing touch.
Then he'd very slowly, one inch at a time, slide his tongue along her belly, taking his time before he reached her juicy, hot little cleft and--- Whoa. Stop right there, cowboy. Before you can't walk anymore. Moron. He took a deep breath and leaned against the wall of the elevator, using his saddle to hide the erection straining the front of his jeans. Damn. He saw her a few times a year, and every time it got more difficult not to disclose his feelings---or his desire---for her. He needed a distraction. "How's Tim?"
There. Nothing to douse his arousal like thoughts of her almost fiancé. Lucky man. Asshole.
"He's okay, I guess," she answered in a muted tone.
"Good." Who cares? Zach tried not to notice the way her caramel-colored hair tumbled about her shoulders, the way her amber eyes shone, the way she ran her tongue over her pink lips. Oh God. Please don't lick your lips. You're killing me. He bit the inside of his cheek and recited the Gettysburg Address in his head. Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth, upon this continent, a new nation...
The elevator door opened and she stepped out. He followed behind, watching the sway of her rounded hips, observing the sweet curve of her ass and thighs. He could imagine pressing his face against her soft cheeks as she bent naked before him, and nipping her bottom until she--- No! Dammit...conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Zach decided his first order of business wasn't just a shower, but an ice-cold one. And then...maybe another.
He stopped close behind Alex at the door to their room. The sweet smell of her shampoo wafted up to tickle his nose. He wanted to lower his face to the nape of her neck and inhale. Instead, he watched as she swiped the key card and the light on the handle turned green. She opened the door and led him inside. "Here. Um...you can pick whichever bed you want."
Yours, darlin'. He wished his cowboy charm worked on her as well as it did on the women in the lobby.
But if it worked, then who would she be? Would she still be his best female friend? His only female friend? Who didn't goggle and fall apart because he was cursed with something that women appeared to crave? He loved the way he could be himself around her most of all. So, if he gave in to his lust, then he'd lose the only woman he could actually talk to without worrying she wanted him only for his looks and for sex. Of course, fifteen years of lusting after a woman who didn't lust after you got old after a while. "What about Stars? Who's doing the nighttime feed? You going back to the barn?" Alex dropped the key card on the desk.
"Actually, the barn manager offered to take care of him for me. I did the setup; she'll just pour it into his feed tub when she takes care of the rest of the horses." He allowed himself to reach out and tweak a lock of her hair. It felt like silk in his fingers.
"I have to go to dinner with my editor and a bunch of other Heart Throb writers. I can ask if you can join us if you'd like. Or you can get room service if you just want to stay here and hang out." She jerked her hair from his grasp, winced at the slight pull, and gave him a cranky look. A cute cranky look.
Zach swallowed and turned to one of the beds, imagining the luxury of lying there, remote in one hand, cold beer in the other, ESPN on the screen. Tempting. Even more tempting: Alex lying beside him.
Never gonna happen. Still, he could imagine how it would feel to have her curled up into him, with her head resting on his shoulder and her hand idly drawing across his bare belly, moving slowly toward... Zach shook himself. "I'll stay here."
She grinned. "You're so predictable. I knew you'd say that." She turned away.
Not as predictable as you think, sweetheart. He placed his saddle pommel-down against the wall near the desk, picked the bed closest to the window and tossed his duffel bag on it. Then he took off his hat, sailing it across the room to the desk, where it landed half on, half off a box. Alex's eyes flickered that way, and he was surprised to see her face flush a bright pink.
What was up with that?
She moved quickly across the room, lifted his hat and tucked the box under her arm. Practically under her shirt. What didn't she want him to see?
"You should go look at the bathroom. It's over there." She gestured with her pointed little chin. "The tub is huge. In fact, the Olympic swim team called. They need a place to practice laps."
"Right." He wasn't about to let her off that easily. Not when she turned that shade of pink. "Whatcha got there?"
"Nothing."
Damn if she didn't turn even pinker. He moved across the room and held out his hand for the box, wiggling his fingers. "Give it."
"It's nothing!" she protested and thrust it behind her back, out of his sight but not out of his reach. "Oh, yes, it is. Give, chica." He violated one of his own self-imposed Alex rules and put his arms around her, too intrigued by her embarrassment about the box to care at the way his body reacted to her closeness. "Lemme see."
"It's nothing!" she protested again, leaning back so that her breasts thrust up toward his face---so-help-him-God. When her shirt rose, exposing the skin of her belly, he couldn't help but notice it was smooth and milky white.
His mouth watered. He wanted to fall to his knees and stroke the silken skin with his lips. Oh...Alex. If only you knew how much I wanted you...
She ducked away, but he managed to grab the box anyway, slipping it from her tenuous grasp and reading the looping pink letters on the box aloud. "Love in the Cards. A fun foreplay game...what the...Alex, what the hell is this?" He couldn't help the slightly accusatory note in his voice as a flush of jealousy went through him at the thought of his friend playing a fun foreplay game with her asshole---er, boyfriend.
She sat down on one of the beds and perched on the edge of the mattress with her hands tucked between her knees. Her hair fell around her lowered head, shielding her face. "My editor gave it to me," she answered in a voice so low he could barely hear it. "She wants me to work on a new project this weekend."
He sat on the edge of his own bed. "What project?"
"A historotica."
"A...what?" His fingers itched to lift the lid off the box and peer inside. Instead, he dropped it on the nightstand. The smugly satiated naked couple on the front of the box---under the pink letters---pissed him off. It might as well be her and...Tim.
And why should The Asshole be satisfied, while Zach's balls were turning blue?
"Historotica: a combination of the words 'historical' and 'erotica.' You know. I write historicals, and apparently, my books sell better than any of Heart Throb's other authors'. So they decided I was the one they wanted to write their debut book for their new line." She lifted her topaz eyes to his. "I write sweet romances! My characters barely kiss, for crying out loud. And if they do, there's no tongue." She jumped to her feet and began pacing. "My heroines are virgins!" She flapped her arms. "Why me?"
Zach bit his lip. She sounded as if she'd been asked to drink poison. Sex with Tim had to be excruciating if she was that upset. Good. "So she gave you the box for...?"
Alex drew in a breath; her shoulders rose. "Because they have a wonderful idea." She rolled her eyes, then closed them tightly. "Open the box and I'll explain. See, it's a sex aid."
Great. Now he wanted to drop the thing, and kick it under the bed for the maid to find. But he got the box off the nightstand and opened it to see a deck of cards, a small bottle, a few candles, and a rainbow of five or six silky-looking handkerchiefs. "It looks like a magic kit."
"Ha. I wish." She fell back onto the bed, throwing her forearm across her eyes. "Then I could disappear."
He grinned at her discomposure and pulled out the deck of cards. They looked like tarot cards, sort of. Except...he looked at the top one. A nude blonde hoisted her voluptuous breasts suggestively at the viewer. "The Queen of...Cups. Huh. Bad pun."
Alex groaned from under her arm. "It gets worse. Look at the back of the card."
"Lick and suck around your partner's nipples until they beg for more...what the..." Zach's mouth grew dry, and his cock just grew. The damn card described his fantasy to a T.
"Horrific, isn't it?" She sat down and crossed her legs. He wondered why. Was she being modest? Was she imagining Tim as her lover?
Or was she imagining him licking and sucking around her nipples? Was she crossing her legs because the thought of having her breasts tongued made her grow wet just as it made his dick grow hard?
Shit.
He dropped the card as if it burned, reaching for the bottle instead. It wasn't much better. "Hotflash Massage Oil. Heats instantly." Yikes. "Are the candles for dripping hot wax onto your partner's...um...hot spots?" Oh. Yeah. Burn Tim. One ball at a time. Sizzle.
"I wouldn't be surprised. The handkerchiefs are for bondage and blindfolds." Alex unclenched her body and sat up. There was a red crease on her cheek from the seam of her sleeve. "There were edible panties, too, but my editor ^^^scarfed^^^ (too slangy?) those."
Zach raised his eyebrows. "Too bad. I'm hungry." Idiot. He winced.
"Shut. Up." Alex said, her voice tight and hoarse. She didn't look at him but stared up at the ceiling. "So their wonderful idea is to set the story in an Old West brothel. I'm supposed to create a hero who draws a card from the pack for his 'fortune' or whatever I want to call it."
"Swe-e-e-t... So, for example, he'd get his nipples licked?" Zach pulled the scarves out and separated them. Six. Two for the wrists, two for the ankles, one for the eyes and an extra. A type of gag, maybe? Intriguing. He tried not to imagine tying Alex up and failed.
"I don't know. Unless he licked the heroine's? I'm too embarrassed to think about it. Forget looking at the other cards. Anyhow, my editor---Carla---said I should use them for ideas. And...research." Alex blushed, then fell to the side, burying her face in her pillows.
Good thing. Right now, his dick was so hard he couldn't hide it anymore. He leaned back and stretched out his legs-if he could, he'd unzip his jeans and release the beast before it busted his zipper. He couldn't get the image of Alex tied down and begging him to pleasure her out of his head.
Probably because all the blood had left his brain to feed his enormous boner. He grabbed a pillow and plopped it over his lap when Alex sat up to peer at him.
"I should just tell Carla I can't do it. Except...the amount of money they offered for an advance was obscene. I mean...Zach, remember that house we saw when we went skiing last winter?"
Did he? Of course he did. It was her dream house. A Victorian-style farmhouse with a view of the White Mountains, a wide front porch, and an apple orchard that they couldn't see because it was buried in snowdrifts.
"How could I forget? You wouldn't stop talking about it."
"If I added the advance to my savings and the money I inherited from my parents, I'd have enough for a down payment. It's still on the market and...well...I mean, I can write smut. I think. For the house."
Smut for the house. He grinned. "Can I come visit?"
"Of course."
"I'm sure your boyfriend would prefer I didn't." The Asshole.
She sighed, a catch in her voice. "I think...Tim and I are through."
"What?" Yes. He resisted pumping his fist in the air and put on an appropriate expression of sympathy. "That's too bad, Al. What happened?"
"We haven't been getting along lately."
"You never said anything."
"Well...I know you don't like him."
True enough. "What's going on?"
"I found him in our bed with his assistant yesterday. He thought I'd already left for the hotel." Her voice caught.
"The asshole!"
She tucked her hands between her thighs, her hair hiding her face again. He'd never seen her look so dejected. If Tim suddenly materialized in front of him, Zach knew he'd beat the jerk to a pulp without hesitation. "What the hell's the matter with him?"
She gave a teary little sniff and a tiny smile. "Oh, come on, Zach. Look at me. Can you blame him? She's five-foot-eight and blonde. I'm five-foot-nothing and fat."
He stood up, blood pounding in his ears. "I am looking at you." You're crying, and it's breaking my heart. "And yeah, I do blame him. And you're not fat." You're curvy and soft and adorable, and I'd kill to be able to love you.
She blinked. "You're sweet."
No. I'm aching for you. But that doesn't mean I'm sweet. Crap. I might be an asshole, too. Zach knelt in front of her, his hands on her knees. "Fuck him, Al. You're too good for him." And I'm not good enough for you.
"But...I love him." She sniffled.
Why? He treated her like a servant. She cleaned, she cooked, she put up with his crap. True, he paid the mortgage and gave Alex the opportunity to stay home and write instead of needing to go out and work a nine-to-five job every day, but...she was better than that. "Maybe he's just a habit. You've gotten used to him. But that doesn't mean he's the one for you." He'd been trying to convince her of that for four years, ever since she'd met the man. "You and he aren't even suited for each other. He's all about flash and cash. You're about books and writing and research."
She swiped at her face with the heel of her hand. "Great. You mean I'm boring."
"Not to me, you're not. You've never been boring. You're intelligent. You're funny. You're---you're you." He tugged her hand from her face, cupped her chin in his palm, and stroked her cheek with the ball of his thumb. "Tim doesn't appreciate you for who you are. He doesn't deserve you. Especially if he hops into bed with somebody the second he thinks you're not around." Ass. Hole.
She studied him gravely, then tipped forward to brush his cheek with a kiss, giving him goose bumps. "You're a good friend, Zach."
Crap. Always the friend. "I know it." He dropped his hands to his thighs and sat back on his heels. "So...now what? You going to write smut? For the house?"
"They want a proposal by the end of the weekend, and I can't even write the word...um...well, you know...without dying of embarrassment." She wrinkled her nose.
"No. What word?"
She blinked. "You know..." Her voice dropped down into a whisper. "P-e-n-i-s."
Zach couldn't hold in his burst of laughter. "So don't write 'p-e-n-i-s.' Use another word. Be creative. How about...velvet luuv rod?" He winked.
Alex laughed, and her face turned a pretty shade of pink. She swatted his shoulder. "It's not just that. I---I'm not very imaginative about these things. I mean...I...well." She looked down at her lap, the smile slipping from her face. "I suck in bed."
Zach reached up, rested his hands on her knees. She wore a skirt; her skin felt hot against his palms. His stomach tightened. If only she knew the thoughts racing around his head, the ideas he had, the things he ached to do with her and for her. She'd have all the research material she'd ever need, for this book and several more. And she'd never, ever think she sucked in bed. Unless she sucked on purpose. Sucked him.
His stomach somersaulted as his cock stiffened. Zach swallowed to clear his throat and took a deep breath. "So do some research, Al," he said, his voice hoarse. "You're always telling me how important it is to research what you write."
"How? What should I do? Rent porn from the hotel? Right now, it hurts to even think about sex, never mind having to write about it. I can't stop thinking about Tim and his assistant. When I walked in, they were doing it...from behind! I was so embarrassed. I just said 'excuse me' and ran out of the room. How stupid was that?" A single silvery tear escaped, trickling over her cheek and dripping onto her thigh, leaving a dark spot on her skirt.
"Oh, Al." Zach squeezed her knees. "You weren't stupid. Tim is. You're the best thing that ever happened to him, and he's thrown you away."
And now, she was liberated. Free to be---his. Here they were, in a hotel room, alone for the weekend, with a box full of sexy scenarios...
I shouldn't do this, he thought. It's slimy. I'd be taking advantage of her.
No I wouldn't. I'd be helping her get over the prick who's made her doubt how sexy she really is for four years.
Yes?
No?
Zach took a deep breath, hoping he wasn't about to ruin the only valuable relationship he'd ever had with a woman. He'd be honest; that was what he'd do. And he'd let her make the decision.
That was what friends did.
"You know you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Al."
She gave him a teary smile. "Me too, Zach. I mean, you."
He held her gaze with his eyes, willing her to see the desire he felt for her in them. "We can research that book. You and me. We've got the time, we've got the place...we've got the...equipment." He gave her what he hoped was a corny grin. "Together, Alex, we can get that proposal done and get you that house."
She stared up at him, her eyes round. "But, Zach... Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Her face reddened.
"If you're thinking the same thing I'm thinking, then...yes." He crossed his fingers; his heart pounded.
She paused. Blinked. And then, slowly, she nodded.
Alex's breath caught in her throat. She didn't know what to say. Maybe she was imagining the whole thing. Maybe she'd fallen and hit her head and the whole thing was a hallucination. She'd wake up and be lying on a gurney in a hospital. The room began to fade. See? Proof that she was hallucinating.
But then, through the fog, Zach appeared, looming large. She felt his hands grasp her shoulders, felt him shake her. "Alex! Breathe!"
Oh. Breathing. Yeah, that would help. She gulped in a huge gasp of air, and her vision cleared. She really was in a hotel suite with Zach. He stood in front of her with his hands on her shoulders and a huge hard-on straining the front of his jeans.
At least...she thought it was. Unless she was hallucinating that, too? She took another gulp of air and looked, just to be sure.
Nope. Not imagining it. Her lifelong friend, Zach O'Connor, wanted her, short, fat, boring her. She pulled her gaze from the bulging ridge in the front of his jeans to look at his face.
He was like an angel, damn him, with a long, dark halo of hat-crushed curls and eyes the color of the summer sky after an afternoon storm. She read concern in them, as well as lust, and that was encouraging. "Are you okay?" His voice was husky soft, tickling her ears and making her blood race.
"I think...I think I am." She licked her lips and realized he'd just tightened his grip on her shoulders. Amazing. She, too, had some sort of power of attraction. "I just---well. I never expected that you would want to do---you know, that---with me."
"I do." He let her go and turned to the box. The Box. Her pulse quickened. "So...what do you want to do? We could just...read the cards and do what they say. Or we could role-play. Or both." He bent and lifted his hat from his bed. "I'm the cowboy, you're the..."
"Don't you dare say 'whore.'"
"I wasn't going to. Unless you wanted me to." Zach slid his hat onto his head, tilting it just so for maximum effect. "What would you call a---prostitute---in a historotica?"
"A soiled dove. A sister of sin. A painted lady, a woman of the night, a prairie nymph, a fille de joie... I'll have to do more research to find out more names." Alex was glad to be back on solid footing, historically speaking. She wasn't going to worry about Tim and their broken relationship. She was going to think about her book and her house.
She was going to have kinky sex with Zach.
Holy crap. She reached behind herself to make sure the bed was within collapsing distance. Just in case she fainted or something.
"Right." Zach lifted an eyebrow at her. "You might need more than ten slang words for hooker to choose from."
"You never know." Alex nodded. "Research is very important, Zach."
He grinned. "I couldn't agree more. Let's get to it, my prairie nymph. I'm pulling a card." He lifted the deck from the box and began shuffling, his fingers riffling along the card's edges.
Alex shifted from foot to foot. Research. It's just research. It's going to be okay, like a game. A research game. About sex.
Oh my God. I'm going to have sex with Zach.
He fanned the cards out on the bed and leaned over them. The sleeves of his shirt tightened over his arms, spreading across his shoulders. His wide shoulders...his narrow waist...his tight jeans, molded to his perfect man-ass.
Alex swallowed. This was it. Sometime soon---today---she wouldn't have to imagine Zach naked. She was going to see him naked.
Naked-naked. Not cut-offs naked, pajama-bottom naked, or bathing suit naked, but the real thing.
The real thing.
She fell back onto the bed, leaning on her hands. Breathe, she reminded herself.
Zach trailed his fingertips over the fanned cards, closed his eyes, and slid one out from the rest. He handed it back to her. "Read it."
She looked down at the photo of a nude couple entwined in each other's arms. "It's the two of hearts."
"If the card fits..." He peered over the edge of the card at her. His eyes were a heart-stopping blue. "What's the back say?"
She lifted her eyes to his. Her face was red. She could feel it blazing. Pretty soon she'd set off the sprinkler system and they'd need to evacuate the hotel. "I think I'm afraid to find out."
"Not very nymphy of you." He lifted the card from her hand, flipped it over, and read aloud. "Undress each other. Without using your hands."
You're kidding. "What are we supposed to use? Our feet?" Alex plucked the card out of his hand and dropped it on the bed. "That's ridiculous. Pick another card."
"I dunno. I kind of like that card." He turned, chose another, flipped it over, and read it quickly. "But I like this one, too."
"Let me see." She reached for it. She felt impatient now. If all the cards were going to be so stupid, she could do this on her own and save herself the...
Was she out of her mind? Tim had hopped into bed with Trudy/Tiffy/Tutu/whatever-her stupid-name-was the second he'd thought she'd left, and she was sitting here, in a room, with the hottest man on the face of the earth ready to undress her with his feet---and she was hesitating?
I'm such an ass.
Yeah, but it's Zach.
Exactly. It's Zach.
Oh...shut up, will you? Who cares? You've modeled every freaking hero you've ever created after him. You know it. Tim knows it. Zach probably knows it. So take your big-girl panties off and fuck his brains out.
"Gimme the card." She sprang to her feet and held out her hand.
"No." He held it up out of her reach. "You'll just say it's stupid and tell me to pull another one."
"I won't!" She shook her head, still reaching.
Zach grinned and tucked it into his shirt pocket. "I'm saving that one."
Great. They'd never do anything at this rate. "What for?"
"For when you're ready." He reached for another. "Ah. This one. This is a good one." He dropped the card on the bed and held out his arms. "Come here, my soiled dove. I'm going to teach you...to fly."
She exhaled another breath she didn't know she was holding. Zach placed his large hands on her shoulders and pulled her up against him. He peered down at her.
"You are so...tiny," he murmured.
"Yeah. Thanks. We've already established that." She wished she were long-legged like Tawny/Tudy/Trashi.
Zach shook his head as if he was speculating. "The top of your head barely clears my armpit."
"Nice of you to notice." She wondered what the card said and leaned back in his hands to peer up at him. "Am I supposed to do something with your armpit? Do I need to be taller for this? If that's the case, I'm pulling the next card."
He grinned at her, a half quirk that quickened her pulse, then sank down onto the bed so that they were eye-to-eye. "You're fine, Al. Don't panic. I'm going to kiss you. Okay?"
Okay? Okay? She nodded.
He let his knees fall open and pulled her between them, his hands sliding down to her waist. "Put your arms around my neck."
Gladly. It's about freaking time. She slid her hands over his face first, his handsome, perfect face, to the back of his neck, and she splayed her fingers in his thick, dark hair. It felt wiry yet soft at the same time. Nice. He lifted his face to hers, tilting his head so the brim of his hat didn't thwunk her on the forehead. Nice touch, she thought. And then, his lips met hers.
She gave a quick gasp as fire flooded her veins; every cell in her body responded by singing with a longing so fierce it hurt. She wanted him down to her core. The sensitive flesh between her legs swelled, growing liquid with a need so strong, she moaned.
Zach's hands slid up to tangle in her hair; he teased her lips apart with his tongue. Normally, she hated kissing like that. Wetness on her lips made her shudder, and the men she'd been with, for whatever reason, had a tendency to open their mouths so wide she felt as if she were about to be swallowed whole. But this kiss was nothing like that. It was heat, it was tongue and teeth and lips and a promise to give her the best sex of her life if she just relaxed and let him have his way with her.
He slid his hand down her back and under the hem of her shirt, lifting it up so that his callused palm brushed her skin. A wave of goose bumps flashed over her body. He broke the kiss. She opened her eyes to see him watching her face, his nostrils flared, his eyes wide. He looked like a stallion ready for a mare in heat.
I'm in heat, she thought.
He slipped her shirt over her head so the room's cold air traced her skin, and then, as if he'd done it a million times before, he unhooked the front of her bra. Her breasts bobbed as he skimmed the silky garment off her arms, never taking his eyes from her. "Pink and perfect," he breathed, a hot puff of air on her already taut nipples. She shivered and slid her fingers through his hair again as he leaned forward to lick the curve of one breast, then the other. But he didn't touch the hardened peaks. They tightened even more, aching. She clenched her fingers.
Heat spread through her body. She could feel the cold, drenched cotton of her panties against her throbbing skin, and she swallowed. She was ready to orgasm, and all they'd done was kiss. "Zach..." she moaned.
"Shhh..." he murmured against her lips. "Let's go slow. I've been riding the range a long time, and I want to get my two bits worth." He peered up at her under the brim of his hat. "I'm feeling historical. What was the going rate for a fille de joie, anyway?"
"I don't...I don't know." She gasped, her knees weakening. "I haven't...researched it...yet." She could barely talk. How could he be thinking research at a time like this?
Because that was what it was. Research. And revenge sex. Raunchy revenge sex. She hoped.
Zach traced the tip of his tongue along the contour of one of her breasts, still avoiding her sensitive pink peaks.
She was going to die. She grabbed the back of his head and tried to force his mouth to her nipple, but he gently slid his hands over hers, twining their fingers together. He lifted their arms and held them over her head. His other hand disengaged, slid back down over her body to deftly undo the button of her skirt and tug it off. It slid down her legs to pool around her ankles. He pulled away to look down. "Nice boots, Alex. We'll leave them on," he murmured. Then he lifted his eyes and met her gaze. "If I let you go, you have to promise me you won't touch yourself."
"Why?" Alex frowned. "Why can't I?"
"Because I told you not to. And I'm in charge right now. So you have to do what I tell you, or else."
Her body began to throb. The thought of touching herself was tempting. "Or else what?"
He lifted an eyebrow. "Or I'll have to punish you. And you don't want that, do you?"
He let her hands go, and she dropped them obediently at her sides. She'd be obedient---for the moment. "I don't know. What does the card say?"
He picked it up off the nightstand and read it to her. "Let your partner undress you." Then he dropped it.
"That's it?" She tried to cross her arms over her chest, but he grabbed her wrists, holding her arms at her sides. "How come you get to use your hands?"
"Because I'm not using my feet." He leaned forward to nip at her neck. "That was a different card." Zach trailed his tongue across her collarbone; goose bumps patterned her skin, and her breasts ached for the moist heat of his mouth.
She tried to distract herself. "The card doesn't say you get to...do...that." She shivered as he moved between her breasts; his scruff-rough cheeks made her skin tingle.
"The cards are supposed to help couples do activities which lead to other things. That's where your imagination---and our research---come in." He leaned back to slide her panties off her hips and down her legs. "Step out," he murmured, helping her take them off over the heels of her boots. "Very nice. Love the knee-high boots, Al. Very sexy." His breath rolled hot over her skin, and she shivered. He gazed up at her through heavy-lidded eyes and gestured with a twist of his head. "Sit on the other bed."
Alex hesitated. Wasn't he going to bend her over the bed and just...do it? Tim never asked her to do anything else, especially wait. Neither had any other man.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why?"
Zach gave her an exasperated look, pushed his hat back on his head, then put his hands on his hips. "Listen. If you were a hook---er, soiled dove, you wouldn't argue. You'd just do what I ask so you could make more money. Right?"
"I don't think I want my heroine to be motivated by money." She sat down, put her hands in her lap, and looked up at him. "It would make her seem cheap, wouldn't it?"
Zach's mouth twitched. It looked like he was about to laugh, but then his gaze dropped to her breasts. He licked his lips with the tip of his tongue in a way that made a hot twitch bubble deep inside her body, spreading from her pussy up to her breasts. They suddenly felt hot, achy, and heavy. She inhaled a shaky breath.
She could feel his eyes on her body as if he were touching her; she began to tremble.
He fell to his knees before her, leaning close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off of him. "You. Are. Beautiful," he breathed, inches from her mouth. His eyes---blue as flame---bore into hers, and he drew his index finger across her mouth, down her throat, between her breasts, over her stomach. She leaned back, opening her primly closed thighs so he could access her most intimate place. Her slit grew slicker, spreading for him.
But then he stood and turned away, leaving her breathless with need, aching for him to touch her.
"How about this? For every card the hero pulls, she gets paid more."
Gah. She swallowed. He's going to kill me. She sat upright again, pressing her thighs together to try and relieve the unfulfilled pressure of her throbbing pussy. Okay. Research. Book. Character. Motivation. Money? No.
Zach, with his back to her, began stripping off his shirt. She'd seen his back countless times; the broad hard planes of his shoulders, the bunching muscles, the arc of shoulder blades, all narrowing down to his waist. He was perfectly sculpted, as beautiful as a statue. It was enough to send a girl over the edge of sanity---or into an orgasm.
Alex took a deep breath and clenched her fists on her thighs. Research. Book. Motivation. "If she wants the hero to keep pulling cards, then she'd be motivated by money. I wish there was something else."
Zach turned around, lifted his arms over his head in a stretch. "She needs the money. To keep her little brother and sister alive. Her parents were killed by...cholera. Or maybe...Oh." His eyes gleamed. "Her father was a minister. He died giving The Word to injured Union soldiers. And then her mother died of grief. Or maybe a cold. Or both."
Perfect! Suddenly, Alex could see her character in her mind's eye, instead of the living Apollo with the broad, flat pecs and rippled abs. "Ooh. That's good. I want to write that down." She got up and hurried to her pile of tote bags to grab a notebook and a pen before the ideas that suddenly flooded her brain dried up.
Zach bit his lip to keep from laughing. Okay, Tim. I can see how this might have gotten on your nerves. One minute, he knew, Alex had been at the brink of orgasm, as tight as a guitar string. The next, she was aflame for her book, oblivious to the fact that she was completely naked except for those sexy knee-high boots. She bent over her tote bags for a pen, her ass, lips, and clit exposed in a way that screamed, Fuck me!
It took every ounce of his willpower not to vault over the bed, grab her by the hips, and bury his stiff cock into her. Though the fact that he was still wearing jeans helped. A bit.
This was so---her. One of the things he loved most about Alex was her intensity about her work. Her imaginary people and places were as real to her as the place where she now stood, and when she visited with them, she sometimes didn't want to return to reality.
Which was why, he knew, they were going to have an incredible time. As long as he could keep her from thinking about the cheating Asshole.
Nope, he was going to do better. He'd make her forget Tim even existed.
He grinned and undid his belt buckle.
She stood up; she'd slipped her glasses on. She looked like a sexy, naked librarian with her hair spilling around her shoulders in a caramel-colored wave. Zach sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his spurs and boots, never taking his eyes from her.
She chewed on the end of a pen, her tongue slipping around its tip. Zach shivered. "She's got a little brother and sister...I wonder where they live?"
"In a shack at the edge of town." Zach stood, unzipped his jeans---with difficulty---and slid them off along with his briefs. God, he was as hard as a rock. He'd never been with a woman who was oblivious to his naked body before. This was a first.
It was a relief. Freeing.
There she stood gazing off into space, in her own little world, chewing on her pen.
Oh, how he wanted to be that pen.
Zach took the few steps it took to reach her. "Listen, sister. Pay attention. I've been riding the range for months. Draw me a hot bath."
She looked up at him and blinked. "You would have stopped at the bathhouse before coming to see me." She waved her pen like a baton. "I need to find out how much that would cost. What services they provided." Alex straightened. "You would have shaved! Go shave. And put on some bay rum cologne."
"I have incredibly fast-growing facial hair. I don't feel clean enough. I want you to wash me."
"Is that in a card?" She craned her neck to look at the fanned cards on the bed. "If it's not in a card, I'm not doing it. I need to make money. I'm not here to waste my time unless you're going to pay for it."
She was in character. Nice. Well, two could play this game. He tried to imagine himself. Was he a cowboy? A gunslinger? A bounty hunter? "What's your name, girl?"
She blinked. "My real name is Caroline. But I don't want to use the name my parents gave me...I need a stage name. They'd be so ashamed of me." She bent over her pad and began writing. "I need a last name."
"Sweetwater. Caroline Sweetwater."
"Ooh, that's good." The tip of her tongue slipped out at the corner of her mouth.
Her concentration face. Even in junior high, that little show of tongue had inspired some of his hottest adolescent fantasies. Among other things. "You're not ashamed of yourself, though. You're doing what you have to."
She lifted her head to blink at him, still deep in her character's head. "Yes. I am. But...I'm going to meet a man who's going to take me away from this life."
"And that would be---me?"
"Yes." She nodded. "That's you. You're not really a cowboy---you were in the war. You're emotionally scarred. Your wife was killed by the Yankees and you're bitter. You never expected to fall in love again."
Oh, yeah. Good. That worked. "Right. Damn Yankees." He realized his hard-on was fading. Time to ramp it up, again. He swung around. "Oh. But you're a Yankee."
"Perfect! Oh, yes, Zach. That's perfect. I'm going to pay for the damage done by my people to your people. You're going to punish me, humiliate me...but you're a decent man. You'll remember how gentle you were with your wife..." Behind her glasses, her eyes sparkled in that intelligent way he loved. It made his waning hard-on begin to stiffen once more.
He reached out to lift her pen and paper from her hands. "Right now, Yankee Girl, you're drawing me a bath. It's right here, on this here card." He picked one up and pretended to read it. "Give your lover a bubble bath."
She frowned. "They didn't have bubble baths in the Old West."
"We'll use French-milled soap. You can rub it all over me and we'll make our own bubbles."
"That's indecent." Caroline, the soiled dove, gasped.
"And being a prostitute is akin to going to church on Sunday?" He steered her toward the bathroom and flicked on the light. What he saw made him fall out of character and gape.
Holy crap. "You weren't kidding about the size of the tub. We could float the Titanic in here!"
"The Titanic wasn't built until nineteen---"
Zach silenced her protest with a kiss and pulled her against him so they were skin-to-skin. God. She was so small and delicate, he was afraid he'd break her. But when her soft, round tits and her hardened nipples pressed into his stomach, it was enough to make his dick stand at full attention.
He splayed tiny kisses along her jaw to her ear, then nibbled on her earlobe, thankful she didn't have multiple piercings. He always worried he'd crack a tooth on an earring.
She wore tiny diamond studs. Simple. He drew her lobe into his mouth, smiling to himself when she shuddered and gasped. When he pulled away, she stood still, staring at him, looking dazed.
"Fill the tub," he ordered, his voice tight with need.
She nodded, moving about the bathroom, self-consciously peering over her shoulder at him. For so long he'd wondered what she looked like without clothes, and now---he didn't think he'd ever get tired of watching her. He couldn't wait to touch her again. She was all shell pink and pearly white, round in all the right places with no sharp angles or ridges. So many women thought they had to be skeletal to be sexy. But Alex had curves that begged exploration. It made his mouth water.
"You're gorgeous, Alex."
Alex spun around to stare at him through fogged eyeglasses. Her face was red. "I'm fat." She pulled off her glasses and dropped them on the edge of the sink counter. "Tim wanted me to lose weight. He was always trying to get me to go to the gym with him when I needed to work." Her boobs jiggled. "You don't have to tell me I'm pretty, Zach."
"You're right. I don't have to. I want to." Zach took a step toward her. She didn't move away. "Because you are."
"If I were an Old West prostitute, I probably wouldn't be pretty. For starters, I wouldn't have all my teeth."
"But you're not an Old West prostitute. You're you. And you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." Zach decided now wasn't the time to point out there wouldn't have been an Olympic-sized walk-in tub in an Old West brothel, either.
She colored. "That's...you're just saying that because you have to. Because we're going to... Maybe this isn't a good idea."
Quick, stupid. Damage control. Before she gets dressed and you blow the opportunity of your lifetime!
"Caroline!" he snapped, putting his all into a Civil War-type drawl. "If'n you don't get my tub ready before I finish this here cheroot, I'm going to have to complain to the madam. And you wouldn't want that, would you?"
She drew her lips into a thin line, dropped her hands from her hips, and finally...her eyes from his. Her gaze slid down over his body, but then she looked quickly over to the side, and turned plum red. She spun around. "I'm sorry, sir. I'll---I'll get your bath ready right away."
"See to it," he drawled, and leaned against the cold counter to watch her bend and stretch over the tub, turning on the taps, running her hand under the water to adjust the temperature. When she was satisfied, she turned.
"There's a bottle of bubble bath in the basket on the counter," she said. "May I have it, please?"
He lifted the basket and handed it to her. "Take it. And listen. Do what I say."
She plucked a bottle from the basket, then placed it on the wide edge of the tub. "Sir?"
"Sit on the edge of the tub."
She did, hissing a bit. "The marble is cold."
Zach knelt in front of her, lifted her foot, and unzipped the side of the boot. Gently, he tugged it off, then reached for the other. When she was barefoot, he stroked her slender ankles and said, "Get into the tub."
She swung her legs out of his lap and stood up in the water.
"Turn around and look at me."
She did, meeting his eyes with a shy smile. Zach clenched his fists and stopped himself from leaping into the tub with her.
"Take that bottle of shower gel and pour it over your body. I want you to wash yourself with your hands."
She swallowed, reached for the bottle, and poured it slowly over her body. The thick liquid trickled slowly over her breasts in a shining sheet.
It was his turn to swallow. Zach leaned back and gripped the edge of the counter. His legs felt weak. "Now, wash yourself. Rub that soap over every inch of your body."
She lifted her hands and stroked, sliding them over her rounded breasts, stopping to circle her nipples, and even daring to caress them; she gave him an insolent pout.
He couldn't stop the groan that erupted from his throat. "That's it. Stroke yourself. Show me what you want me to do to you."
Alex smiled then; he could see her growing more confident and comfortable with their new roles. Good, he thought. That's what I was waiting for.
She moved her hand down between her legs and slid her finger between her furred lips, arching her head back, thrusting her hips forward, pleasuring herself. Her swollen pink flesh disappeared behind a froth of white foamy soap.
"Rinse it off," he said, his voice husky. He was hard again, harder than before, watching Alex stroke her body this way. She bent and rinsed, bent and rinsed, bringing her cupped hands up and spilling water over her body so that the soap trailed over her in sparkling rivulets. He couldn't stand it. He needed to touch her.
He needed to be touched.
Alex could feel Zach watching her intently; it was as if his gaze was as tangible as his touch. She opened her eyes to look at him in all his magnificent maleness, all hard muscle with a thick, jutting cock that strained up and out at her. He was beautiful. Of course he was. And twice as gorgeous naked as he was clothed.
She splashed another handful of water over her body, trickling it over her breasts. It tickled.
She wished it were Zach's touch. Maybe his tongue. Alex shivered and slid her hand down between her legs. If she could just come...
"Hold it right there," Zach croaked in a voice tight with need. "Don't do anything until I tell you."
She sighed. "You're so bossy."
"It's my money." He climbed into the tub beside her, bumping his hip against hers. Her skin flushed and she trembled.
"Zach..."
He sat in the now soapy water and pulled her down with him. "Hey, are there water jets?"
"We shouldn't." They didn't have water jets in the Old West.
"We should." He hit the button with his elbow, and the tub began bubbling with a roar; foaming, sizzling water splashed up over their bodies, making it impossible to see what was under the surface. Zach sighed and leaned back against the tub's back. "Come wash me, sweet Caroline." He winked. "I'm still not done with this here cheroot."
She moved up beside him; try as she might, there was no way to avoid slipping and sliding against his slick skin. She couldn't stop the flood of desire that rippled over her again and again. She tried to lighten the mood a bit. "I feel like I'm in a boiling pot of soup," she joked, pushing alongside him. "You know, I didn't realize how big you are. You're taking up a lot of room in this tub."
"Thank you, miss...I consider that a compliment, coming from you. Though most of the ladies have commented on how big I am." He grinned at her.
"I'm talking about your ego, Mr...whatever your name is. Nothing else."
"Sure you are, darlin'." He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. "You can call me...Rhett. Rhett Butler." He leaned back against the edge of the tub. "Tonight, I'm Mr. Butler. And your name---your working name---is Scarlett. Miz Scarlett, of the Gilded Cage Saloon."
Alex shook her head. "Oh, for crying out loud. Can't you be more original? That name's already taken."
Zach closed his eyes. "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a---"
"Damn," Alex said, refusing to let him finish. Rhett Butler, indeed. She sighed. "I left the washcloths on the counter."
"Perfect." Zach exhaled and leaned back. "Use your hands." He closed his eyes. "I'm waitin', Miz Scarlett."
Alex sighed, reached into the basket on the edge of the tub, and unwrapped the tiny bar of hotel soap. Where to begin?
She could start with his feet and work her way up his legs...
She could start with his back and work her way down to his waist...
Or...she could just start.
What would her character do? She'd want to make as much money as possible. Her little sister was so sickly, and though neither child wanted to complain, they were thin enough to see through. Poor little darlings. Alex slipped her hand beneath the surface of the water and went right for the bull's eye. Or the bull's balls. "Fiddle-dee-dee," she murmured, wrapping her hand around Zach's hard cock.
Wow. Was there anything about Zach that wasn't larger than life? She couldn't help but stroke him. She wanted to suck him, draw his hard cock into her mouth, and swirl her tongue over it like a long, thick, hot Popsicle. She wanted to ride him.
He hissed in response, his blue eyes darkened almost black with lust. She moved over him to cup his taut balls, stroking his turgid length with a slick, soapy hand; Zach pulled her to straddle him, cupped her breasts in his hands, and swiped his thumbs over her nipples. It tingled.
He closed his eyes. "Not so fast, Scarlett. You want to pull another card, don't you?"
I want to feel you inside me, she thought. "Are we done with your bath, cowboy?"
He grinned, and then, as if she weighed nothing and they weren't in a bubbling spa-tub, he stood---lifting her along with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Her clit rubbed over his cold, wet abdomen.
She tightened her grip around his body, relishing the feel of the rough hair on his stomach against her sensitive, tender flesh. It made her want to come, more than ever. She ground into him, desperate to relieve the ache deep inside her.
In moments, they were back in the bedroom. He placed her down on one of the beds. "Hold on a sec."
Alex wanted to protest as he hurried off, but he returned in seconds with a towel. "Let me dry you," he murmured, falling onto the bed with her. "Lie back," he purred. "And spread your legs so I can see you. All of you."
Alex closed her eyes and did as she was told. Caroline/Scarlett would be ashamed. Embarrassed. She would be a virgin. She would never have had a man wiping her with a rough towel, buffing it teasingly over each of her nipples, down over her stomach to the sensitive hidden flesh between her legs... "Oh...Zach," she whispered.
"Rhett, you mean."
"Whatever. Please. Please, touch me. Don't tease me. Please."
"My, my, my...let's see what the cards say...ah. 'Fondle your partner until she begs.' Now that sounds...interesting. Should I stop now? Are you begging?"
Alex opened her eyes. "No. I'm...I'm not begging. I'm...I'm..." Not going to say please anymore.
He rose up to bite her breasts with quick, gentle nips that made the flesh between her legs quiver and grow liquid. She shoved her fingers into his hair, yanking hard.
"Are you begging me, Scarlett?"
"No. No!" She shook her head back and forth against the coverlet. "I---I'm not begging." I'm dying, but I'm not begging.
"Are you sure?" He brushed his lips over each of her nipples in turn. His breath was hot.
"No!"
"Positive?" He flicked his tongue on them; goose bumps rose over her skin. She felt a trickle of moisture slide from her pussy, down between the cleft of her buttocks; she'd never been so aroused. "No. I'm...I'm not. I'm not!" When he finally drew one of her nipples into his mouth, she groaned deeply.
"Mmmm?" He slid one of his hands down along her body, over her hip, and finally between the folds of her pussy. She lifted her hips, her body weeping for him. It wasn't fair. She needed to have him inside of her, right then and there. But he wouldn't. Instead, he kept sucking and biting at her nipples, squeezing with one hand, teasing with the other, until she bucked beneath him.
The sensation between her legs built and built, growing larger with each swipe of his tongue. He slipped a finger into her, then another.
Alex opened her eyes when he pressed another finger against her anus. Was he serious? She didn't have time to wonder; his finger slipped inside her body. She moaned his name, then called it, and finally screamed aloud as a flood of sensation overtook her body, sluicing through her limbs to center in her very core. She felt wave after wave of electricity spread from her breasts to her pussy, exploding in a shower of sparkling whiteness.
When it subsided, she lay still and gasped, her heart pounding, her body weak and sensitive to the touch. She opened her eyes to see Zach leaning over her, a smile on his face and a gleam in his eyes. He licked his lips. "That looked like it felt good."
She nodded. "It was...amazing."
He rolled onto his back beside her, tucking her head onto his shoulder, rubbing his chin over the top of her head. "Glad you enjoyed it."
"But...what about you?" She rolled onto her side and drew her hand over his stomach, idly tracing the hair pointing down to his cock. Which was, she noticed, still erect and still huge. She wanted to feel him inside her, but didn't dare. Not now, when every nerve ending tingled.
"I'm okay. For now..."
"No, you're not. That was---and I'm not even going to bother being coy with you---the best orgasm of my entire life. I'm not going to leave you unsatisfied." She slid her fingers down to wrap them around him as well as she could. He was so hard, but his skin was velvety beneath her grasp.
She felt her slit swelling again already, dripping with desire for him.
He stilled. "Can I tell you...do you have any idea how long I've fantasized about doing exactly that, to you?"
"Really?" She smiled. "Do you have any idea how long I've fantasized about doing this?"
Zach arched his hips when Alex swallowed his cock---or as much of it as she could. It was so hard, it felt as if it were about to break. The muscles of her throat worked around it; he closed his eyes and moaned. Alex had fantasized. About doing this. To him.
He didn't know what felt better. Did it matter?
Her hand worked, sliding up and down what she couldn't swallow, and she flicked the tip of her tongue over the most sensitive part, the spot just behind the glans. He gripped the bedspread and held tight, moaning her name in one long groan.
"Mmmm," she hummed at him, pulling her mouth away with a popping noise. "You taste good." And she drew the tip of her tongue all the way to the base of his dick and back again like it was a lollipop. Then, she enveloped him in her mouth---as much as she could. Again and again, her tongue swirled and her hand and mouth worked in concert until the cum boiling in his balls could no longer be contained. He lifted his hips and screamed her name aloud as the hot fluid pumped from his throbbing cock in scalding white spurts that spattered over Alex's cheeks and chin, until he fell back, spent.
She laughed---laughed!---and swiped it away with her fingers. "Well now. That was fun. I think it's in my hair...wait a minute. I'll be right back." She got off the bed and hurried to the bathroom. Zach watched her go, appreciating her curvaceous figure---small, graceful---perfect.
He lay on the bed, considering. He'd known Alex since she was twelve and he thirteen. It was the longest relationship with a woman he'd ever had, other than his sister. But now he and Al had moved to another level. Call it research if you want, but the fact was...it was still sex.
Great sex, so far. He wanted more. Lots and lots more.
She appeared around the corner of the short corridor leading to the bathroom, now dressed in a robe, and began rustling in a suitcase---for clothes!
He sat up. "Wait a minute. We're done?"
"Done? I---well...for now."
He stared at her and realized this was the time to set precedents. "No," he said, "we're not. Come here."
She turned, pouted briefly, then reached for The Box. "I just thought we should start getting ready for dinner."
"And I thought...we should cuddle for a bit."
She dropped The Box, turned deliberately to squint at him. "Cuddle? That's a girly word for such a manly man."
"Well...yeah." He felt his face color. "I want to hug you. I want you to hug me." God, he sounded like a girl. Zach bristled. So what? Hugging was nice. "What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing." She approached the bed, and then dropped down beside him. "I just...it's been my experience that guys don't cuddle. In fact...I don't think I've ever heard a guy use the word 'cuddle.'"
"I do. I cuddle with pride." He put his arms around her and pulled her down to lay beside him. She snuggled into his side and rested her head on his shoulder. Alex fit just right.
"This is nice," she purred.
"Would be even nicer if you were naked."
Alex lifted her head off his shoulder to look at his face. "Now that sounds like a manly man."
He grinned, peering back at her from under his long eyelashes, his eyes twinkling. She was sorry she had to leave him, especially now. But maybe it was for the best. This was only research, after all. She couldn't allow herself to think it might be anything else. Getting her heart shattered two times in one weekend was just too much. She sat up and pulled her robe closed.
"My editor expects me for dinner."
"I'd like you for dinner."
"You're hopeless." And so am I. Hopelessly stupid for doing this. She put her head back down, loving the feeling of his warm skin against her cheek. But really, how could she resist? This was Zach. She'd always dreamed of this moment. And besides...he smelled like cinnamon. "You smell good," she told him.
"So do you. Good enough to eat. And more," he answered in a silky voice. He turned in her arms; his erection pressed against her belly.
"We just---you can't possibly be ready to do it again." She sat up. Tim would never be hard so soon after sex. He'd be asleep, but not...aroused.
Zach reached up to pull her back to his side. "I told you. I just want to feel you against me." He wrapped his arm around her, prodding her to rest her head on his shoulder. "But yeah, I could do it again if you'd like."
Aw, hell. She didn't want to go to dinner. She didn't want to write smut. She didn't want to do anything but lie next to her best friend and try to forget the world outside the hotel room door. Alex rolled onto her side, slid her leg over Zach's, brushed her hand over his stomach, feeling the muscle there. Sexy washboard abs. Perfect chest. The man was flawless. "All this beauty and a cuddler too. Do you have any faults?"
Under heavy lids, his eyes twinkled like the sky at night. "Of course I do."
"Name one." She noticed he wasn't kidding about the horny thing---his cock was already semi-erect and lengthening by the second, just from her touch. Hey, she thought. Look what I can do.
"I frequently call out the wrong girl's name during sex."
"If you didn't sleep with so many women, you wouldn't get confused." She slid her fingertip down the length of his dick; it rose up to meet her touch, and she felt his body tense.
"I don't. Really. Not anymore. When I was younger, maybe, but now...no. It gets boring, having a different woman every night."
"Uh-huh. Tell me another one, Zach."
"I'm serious." He reached over to stroke his knuckles over one of her nipples.
She shivered. "You're telling me sex isn't a recreational sport for you anymore?"
He moved so quickly, she barely had time to respond. Zach flipped her onto her back, looming over her, his hard cock pressing into her belly, his hot breath brushing her cheek. "No. It's a research project." He brushed his lips over hers. They tingled.
"If you call out the wrong name this weekend, I won't hold it against you." Research. See? He knows what this is. I need to get my heart out of my head and just be smart about this.
"Are you Alex, Caroline, or Scarlett right now?" He rolled again, bringing her with him; she ended up lying on top of him, his hot, hard body making her skin tingle, and she peered down into his perfect face. "You're the one playing three different women. You'd better not hold it against me if I use the wrong name." He grinned up at her.
"I'm...whoever. I'm not sure." She wasn't. She wanted to be herself. But if she was Alex...Would he get dressed, leaving her unfulfilled because she was his buddy and not...a sex game? She pouted. "I think it's time to draw another card, Rhett."
"Ah, Miz Scarlett." He reached for the deck and pulled out a card. "Hmm. I like this one. Y'all ready for what it says?"
"Will I earn another two bits?"
"You might earn more if y'all do it to ma satisfaction." He grinned and read the card. "Straddle your partner and masturbate while they watch."
Oh. My. God. She felt heat rising in her cheeks. "Let me see that card. Does it really say that?"
"Are you doubting me, your customer?" He held it off to the side, out of her reach. "I can just talk to the madam..."
"No." She leaned back, resting her hands on his chest. She thought about the two hungry children in the shack. "I'll do it."
"Good." He lowered his eyelids and put his hands behind his head. "Show me how you make yourself come."
She felt a hot blush scald her cheeks. She'd never done anything like masturbate in front of anyone, not even with Tim, and she'd once thought he was The One. It was such an intimate thing to show someone. She'd be so vulnerable and open to his hot gaze.
Zach moved again, this time flipping her onto her back so that her head rested on the pillow. Slowly, then, he drew his calloused hands down her sides, to her hips, then down her thighs to her knees, a hot trail. With gentle pressure, he pushed her legs open, exposing her sex to his hungry gaze, then parted her moist flesh with his thumbs. Their slight pressure on either side of her clit made it tingle.
She saw him swallow, saw his cock bob, and she realized she wasn't as embarrassed as she was excited. And proud. He was so hard. Look what she did for him.
Her body swelled under his gaze, spreading, unfurling, and growing even slicker than before. He licked his lips. "So pink, and wet," he said in a hoarse voice. "I just want to..." But then he shook his head. "Give me your hands. Show me." He placed her hands on her pussy and sat back on his heels. "Do it."
She closed her eyes and began to masturbate, finding the sensitive place she liked to stroke, sliding one and then another of her fingers into herself; she heard him hiss a breath and moan softly. When she opened her eyes, he was watching raptly, his pupils dilated, his cock straining and a deep, dark pink.
Alex lifted her other hand to fondle one of her nipples.
His pupils dilated as he watched; she noticed the way his chest rose and fell with his quick, hard breaths. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes to imagine the feel of his hard cock inside her. Before long, she lifted her hips off the bed and spiraled into an intense orgasm that made her body clench and release around her invasive fingers. She rocked back and forth and bucked her hips up and down, spreading her legs even wider to his gaze. She groaned deeply.
When she opened her eyes, it was to see Zach staring at her, his eyes wide and his gaze hungry. She lifted her cum-sticky fingers to him, and he leaned over her to draw them into his mouth, sucking and licking them clean. "You taste good," he said finally, his lips and chin shiny with his spit and her juice.
He'd never looked so handsome. And that was saying a lot. She pushed herself up on her elbows to stare at his massive cock. "Now, you. Do it for me. Let me watch."
"God," he groaned and grabbed himself, needing no more urging. His fisted hand flew over his shaft in a blur, making a quick slapping sound. She lifted her breasts to him with her palms and then, knowing already that it turned him on, slid her fingers around the round peaks to tweak and knead her own nipples.
His eyes shone and he let out another groan, louder this time; in moments, his hot, white jizz spurted from the tip of his cock in a terrific arc, splattering hot and wet against her skin. She rubbed it over her nipples with her fingertips, gratified when he groaned again.
"Alex. Jesus. That was the hottest thing I've ever seen," he said, tumbling down onto the mattress beside her, pulling her into his arms. "You're the hottest thing I've ever seen."
"And you're full of shit." She rested her cheek on the flat plane of his chest, her head tucked under his chin, her leg drawn up over his. "My name's Scarlett."
"Hmm." He reached for the remote. Typical man, she thought, and smiled. Typical Zach. When he turned on the sports channel, she sighed and closed her eyes.
"I need to go take a shower. I'm all sticky," she said.
"Me, too." His voice rumbled beneath her cheek. "But let's take a nap, first."
"I can't. Remember?" She lifted her head. "This may be a vacation trip for you, but for me...I'm working."
Working. Zach nodded. A thought struck him. Were these intensely hot moments only work for her, too? Once the weekend was over, was she going to say, "Thanks for the research help" and call it a day?
The thought made his throat tighten and his stomach clench. No. He wasn't ready to give her up, yet. If ever.
Alex sighed against his chest and he put his arm around her shoulders; she fit just right. "Hot" wasn't the right word for what they'd shared, he decided. "Meaningful" fit better. Hot and meaningful. Yes. That was it.
Alex was important to him. She kept him sane and real. He could have been a self-centered jerk, but she'd taught him early on that there was more to him than just a face and a body. He was never just a piece of meat---not to her.
And he knew lots of things about Alex. Like she loved Reese's peanut butter cups, but hated straight peanut butter. She never refused a foot rub. And she could use chopsticks with her left hand, even though she was right-handed.
And now, he had the opportunity to learn what she liked in bed.
He'd already learned where she liked to stroke herself. And that---yes---she did have sensitive, pale pink nipples. And that she seemed to know exactly how to turn him on. He sighed and slid his thumb over her shoulder. Realizing he knew her well in mind and soul, learning even more about her...that was exciting. He smiled to himself and kissed the top of her head as he had a million times before. Only this time, it was special. This time, she was in his arms and naked. She was his and his alone.
All he had to do was convince her of that, and they'd be all set.
Alex sat at dinner in the hotel restaurant with her editor and the other Heart Throb writers. Zach had elected to stay in the room and take a nap instead of attending dinner with them, which she was thankful for.
For one thing, she needed time to recuperate from the intensity of the past few hours they'd spent together. For another, she needed to be with people who weren't gah-gah; experience had proven that a table full of women and Zach was a brain-deadening combination.
And finally, she needed a drink. A large one. Or three.
I slept with Zach kept circling around in her head. One minute, she'd be talking to someone about their sales, and then, I slept with Zach! would pop up, and she'd lose her train of thought. Or she'd be thinking, This is a great salad dressing, and I slept with Zach was there, making everything else seem inconsequential.
She stared down at the salad and realized that probably had something to do with the shape of the cherry tomatoes and baby carrots. Although Zach really had nothing in common with them. Tim, on the other hand, had a lot in common with cherry tomatoes and a baby carrot...
Now, Alexandrea, be nice.
Nice. Why be nice? Tim was a jerk. He'd fucked another woman---in their bed!
She wished she could call him and tell him--- Guess what? I had sex with Zach, you two-timing jerk, and he's waaay bigger than you!
But they hadn't really had sex, she realized. They'd played, but they hadn't consummated their games. Which was what this weekend was. A game. She didn't know why they'd chosen to bring their relationship to a sexual level---besides Tim's betrayal, of course---but they had. And now she didn't know how their relationship was going to proceed.
Truth be told, she didn't want the game to stop. She wanted to use the weekend to bring it to its natural conclusion.
But the question was: would it also bring their relationship to its conclusion? Could she stand being just another woman Zach slept with? Did he see her as just another notch on his belt? Was she about to lose her oldest friend, as well as the man she'd planned to marry, because of sex?
Good going, Alex. You lost your fiancé and now you could lose your best friend, all in one weekend. Nice job.
"How's the proposal coming?" Carla asked, interrupting her thoughts.
"It's coming," Alex answered and speared one of the tomatoes with her fork. I just hope it doesn't cum...and go.
"Oh. My. God. Look what just sat down at the bar," the writer to the left of Alex---a strongly opinionated author of werewolf novels---barked.
Everyone at the table turned to look. Alex didn't bother. She didn't need to. Only Zach could create that response. He's not a what, he's a who, she thought with disgust. The sexiest, hottest who she'd almost ever had sex with. But she didn't say it aloud. It wouldn't matter. No one would listen, because they were too busy ooohing and aaahing at "it."
She pushed an onion over to the side of her salad bowl and forked up an olive.
"Who do you suppose he is?" squeaked the teeny tiny woman who wrote bestselling intrigues with big heroes and bigger heroines. "He looks dangerous."
"He doesn't look dangerous. He looks delicious," responded the author of a successful series of romances revolving around a restaurant.
Alex rolled her eyes and tipped her head back. Was he dangerous or delicious? Neither. And both. She knew he was delicious. And today, she'd learned he was dangerous. To her heart. Oh, Zach. I hope we're not making a big mistake. She lifted her gaze to watch him, and a shiver ran through her.
He spoke to the bartender, who handed him a menu.
"Bet you he orders a steak. A man like that eats meat," said the grandmotherly lady to Alex's right.
"Really?" Alex put down her fork and picked up her frozen margarita, taking a big sip. Gah. Salt. And a brain-freeze. Crap. She put it down. "What do you write?"
"I write man-on-man love stories." The author never took her eyes off Zach. "I wonder if he's gay?"
Oh, dear God. Alex sucked back a snort of laughter. Hardly.
"Alex. Do you think you could write your erotica around a hero like that?" Carla asked.
"Sure. Why not?" She leaned on her elbows, gazing at Zach, her friend and the object of everyone's speculation. I already am.
"I wonder how he kisses."
It's like Heaven on earth.
"Do you think he's got a big...?"
Hung like a bull. Olé!
"I wonder if he fucks as good as he looks?"
Me, too. Alex sighed. "I bet he orders dessert first."
"Ooh. That's very indicative of how he makes love," said Restaurant Writer. "I think he'll order...oysters."
"No way," said Man-on-Man Granny. "Stuffed zucchini."
"The five-alarm chili," said Dangerous.
"Cheeseburger and fries," Carla said. "Meat and potatoes. He's more of a two-course meal kind of a man. With lots of ketchup."
"The marble cheesecake," Alex said.
"Oh! Cheesecake. Very good. I like that," Man-on-Man said. "Cheesecake." She giggled.
Alex rolled her eyes and shifted away from the woman. She didn't mean cheesecake like that. It was just...he liked cheesecake. And chocolate. Together, it was the perfect Zach food, and when she'd noticed it on the menu, she'd planned to order a piece to take back to the room for him.
At the bar, Zach handed the menu back to the bartender; in moments, he had a tall-necked bottle of beer in front of him. He tipped his head back to take a long pull. His Adam's apple bobbed. Funny how something like that could look so sexy on a man. It drew your attention to the curve of his throat. You could just imagine what it would be like to drag the tip of your tongue over the silk and stubble of his skin, maybe stopping to bite and suck until he had a hickey. But why stop there? Why not just trail your tongue down into his shirt, over his entire body? You could lick a man like Zach all over, and never get tired of his salty-sweet taste and the hot feel of his skin and taut muscles.
As if he could feel her eyes on him, he turned to look at her. She shivered, unable to stop the smile that rose to her lips, and he smiled back, raised his bottle in salute, then winked.
"Oh my God," Carla said, "he winked at you. You should go over and introduce yourself to him."
Damn. Forget that. She should go over and jump him, knocking him right off his barstool and into a private, dark corner, where she could suck on his neck...and the rest of his body.
Amazingly, she realized, she could. Later, tonight. She took a deep breath to calm the racing of her heart, and a sip of her margarita to set her thoughts spinning on a different axis. Mmmmm. "Why don't women have Adam's apples, do you think?"
No one answered. Apparently, they were overcome, just watching him. Maybe they were jealous because he'd winked at her.
Poor Zach, Alex thought. How could he stand it? True, the guy was beyond gorgeous, but there was so much more to him than that. He was smart, fun, funny, and caring. He taught special-needs kids how to ride, rescued horses, and taught both kids and horses how to live with confidence in the world.
Yet, women---and some men---always treated him like a thing instead of a person just because of his appearance.
At least I know I've never treated Zach like a piece of man-meat, instead of a human being. She winked back at him and lifted her glass in salute. "A toast," she announced to the table, "to the handsome hunk at the bar."
"Hear, hear!" The women chorused and raised their glasses Zach's way.
\*\*\*
Zach paused outside the candle shop. Alex was still with her colleagues in the hotel restaurant when he'd left, and she'd texted him to let him know there was an awards thing going on she needed to attend. "Keep the bed warm for me," she'd written.
Little did she know he intended to make it more than warm; it was going to be hot. Really hot. Or it would be, once he gathered all the things he thought would spice up their night even more.
The sex box was fun, but it wasn't complete.
He waited for a gaggle of giggling women to leave the cluttered candle shop, bags in hand, before walking in. Assorted scents assaulted his nose---florals strong enough to remind him of a funeral bouquet, vanillas so sweet his throat closed, fruits so real he expected to see a produce section.
He just wanted something sexy, something that would light up the room and make an impression. What would Alex like? He closed his eyes and inhaled the various smells. Cinnamon, he realized. She'd like cinnamon...with apples. He smiled to himself and reached for a hand basket.
After he'd picked and purchased the candles, he made his way through the mall to a shop called simply, "Pop!" He wondered if Alex would want to join him. Maybe someday. When he'd convinced her she was his and his alone and knew that this wasn't just a weekend fling thing.
A bald, tattooed, and multiply pierced man sat on a stool by the door. He was, Zach realized as a group of rowdy teenage boys moved by with reddened faces and loud hoots, a bouncer. He reached for the handle to let himself in. The bouncer stopped him. "The bag---it needs to go in the bin." He pointed to a partitioned bookcase beside him.
Zach stowed it in a cubical, and the man opened the door. "Welcome to Pop! The area's only adult book and toy store. Enjoy yourself, man."
"Thanks." He stepped inside the store. Toys? There were more toys here than he'd ever seen before. Even so, there was only one special thing he wanted, something he'd always wanted to try---with the right woman. He wandered the aisles, eyeing dildos as big as pepperoni sticks and as curved as bananas, some with heads at both ends, and tried not to smirk at the "realistic" latex pussies "with real human pubic hair!"
There was an aisle of creams, gels and oils, self-heating and edible, and another displaying various bondage devices, whips, crops, and flagellators. There was even a human saddle and bridle set.
But aside from some of the oils and creams, none of those things interested him. What he wanted was very specific, and it wasn't long before he found a rack of them of various shapes, sizes, and textures. He smiled as he imagined what he'd do when he found just the right one, and suddenly, he couldn't wait for Alex to get back to their room. He pulled out his phone.
"Please hurry," he texted. "Rhett's got two bits burning a hole in his pocket, and he's dying to give them to you." Zach hit the "send" button and reached for the toy he knew they'd both enjoy.
\*\*\*
"Well, look who showed up," Zach said when Alex strolled into the room a few hours later.
She smiled and plopped down on the end of the opposite bed. "Puh-lease. Look at you, all sprawled there with a beer and the remote. You look like you've had quite a time for yourself. Scruffy faced, messy hair, sheet marks on your cheek..."
Zach grinned. "It's been great. Just what I needed. I watched mindless television, napped, ate---you saw me do that---shopped at the mall across the street, showered, and napped again. Life is good."
"I'm glad you're having a good time." She sighed and fell back on the bed in a big X, arms and legs spread, to stare up at the ceiling. "I hate conferences," she said. "I won an award for best historical of the year."
"Oh. That sucks. I hate it when I win awards," Zach snarked and switched off the television.
She rolled onto her side and propped her head on her hand. "You have no idea. These women. I went to the networking session after dinner. You know, to network."
He nodded. "Really? You networked at a networking session? Who knew?"
"Yes, but instead of networking, all they could do was talk about you." She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I wanted to tell them you were here with me, but I figured, why ruin the mystery? Right now, they think you're a prime specimen of man flesh, and I didn't want to push you off your pedestal by letting them know you're a real guy. You know, who burps and everything."
"That was thoughtful of you." He dropped the remote on the nightstand. Man flesh, my ass. It was insulting. He knew that Alex didn't mean anything by it, but he wished... "You have my permission to shove me off my man-flesh pedestal anytime, Al."
"Awww...and ruin all their fun? The air was pink with estrogen. Why would I want to destroy their fantasies of you by telling them you're only human?"
Because I am. Zach sighed. But enough of that. He wasn't interested in what the romance writers at the convention thought about him. There was only one woman he wanted---no, more than that. A woman he needed. Alex.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up to reach for his hat on the desk. Just where he'd placed it. Time to get into character. He pushed the hat onto his head and hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans. "Time to get to work. I've just pulled a card, Miz Scarlett. You interested in hearing what it says, or shall I call the madam for a new gal?"
She sat up, her eyes wide and sparkling. "I'll do whatever you want, Mr. Rhett."
"Then you'd best get your sweet little behind into that bathroom and take off all your clothes."
She wrinkled her nose. "In the bathroom? Why?"
"You'd best do what I say, Scarlett, or you're going to lose some cash. You don't want me to call the madam. I could ask for a gal who doesn't ask questions."
She jumped off the bed. "Yes, sir." She hurried into the bathroom and shut the door. Good. Zach got up and began pulling the things he'd bought out of the bags he'd hidden on the closet shelf.
In the bathroom, Alex pulled the plush hotel robe off the hook on the back of the door and wrapped it around herself. It was so long, it dragged on the floor. But, she felt self-conscious about walking around naked in front of Zach. Even though she'd been naked with him earlier---intimately so---the initial flush of passion was over.
Maybe she just needed to get back into character. She closed her eyes. Thought about the two children waiting for her at the shack. Needing food. And clothes. And schooling. And...medicine.
But this wasn't the way to do it, she realized. She couldn't do this forever. So many sisters of sin died of disease, or abuse. She needed to find a better way to take care of the children. A man. A husband. Maybe...maybe a man like Mr. Rhett. He was handsome enough. And clean. And, he had all his teeth.
She wondered if he liked children.
She decided she'd ask him to take her with him. She'd be his mistress. And all she asked in exchange was food for the children, a roof over their heads, clothes on their backs---and that no one ever discover she was nothing more than his whore.
Alex opened her eyes and threw back her shoulders, dropping the robe in a puddle around her feet. She turned to the counter, picked up her body lotion, and poured a generous amount of it into her palm. She stroked it all over her skin, even under her breasts and amidst the curling hair at the juncture of her thighs, watching herself in the mirror. Okay. So Tim had called her fat. Zach said she was perfect. Maybe she was in-between. Not as thin as she might have wished, but...well, Zach wasn't turning her away for being too fleshy.
And if a man like Zach thought she looked good, then...
A sense of power filled her. She turned him on. He wanted her.
So she reapplied her makeup, taking care to paint her lips with deep red lip gloss until they glittered with the promise of a kiss. Finally, she brushed her hair until it crackled and shone, bouncing around her shoulders.
Take that, Mr. Rhett. You'll be mine. And I'll be yours. She opened the door and strode out into the bedroom with her breasts bouncing and her ass wiggling, ready to take on the cowboy waiting for her.
But...she stopped to stare at the transformation of their hotel room.
The room glowed with candlelight. Jarred candles lined the wide windowsill, and short tapers flickered in glass holders on the desk. More candles in jars sat on the nightstand. And the scent of cinnamon filled the air.
Zach---Rhett---lay on the bed, wearing nothing but his hat tipped over his eyes. His hands were clasped behind his head, his legs were crossed comfortably at the ankles, and he could have been snoozing. Except---the giant erection rising up over his stomach gave him away. Alex drew closer; she could see his eyes glittering at her from beneath the brim of his hat.
"Mr. Rhett?" she whispered. "I like the candles."
"And I---like you. You're the sexiest thing I've ever seen. Now, come here, girl. And straddle me like you did before."
Her heart jumped at his words. Tim had never called her beautiful. Or waited for her with a boner the size of Texas.
"You're not so bad yourself, cowboy," she breathed, taking in the sight of his long, lean body, hard muscles, and mouthwatering cock. Cunt-watering was more like it, she realized, as she grew slick with desire for him. With that, she swung her leg over his and settled onto his thighs. She trembled.
He took his hat off, sailing it onto one of the nearby chairs; she could see his face clearly now. His eyes appeared large and dark in the dim candlelight. "You smell nice," he said, reaching up to pinch her nipples between fingers and thumbs. "How do you taste?"
Her answer fled her brain. She could only moan as her breasts grew heavy and ached. She pressed into his touch. She wanted more.
"You like that, huh?" he murmured, rhythmically tweaking the sensitive peaks.
"Mm-hmm," was all she could manage to breathe.
"How much?"
"Very much," she answered with an effort. Between her nether lips her clit swelled, throbbing, and the moisture trickled out of her body. She needed to feel him inside her. Alex moved so that his cock pressed against her aching flesh; she circled her hips against him.
He hissed a breath and reached out to stop her motion. "You asking for something, Scarlett?"
She nodded. "Please."
Zach was almost afraid to move---or breathe---for fear this was all just a dream. He'd thought he'd never get the chance to tell her he loved her once Tim got into the picture. And earlier today had been just play. But now, they were going to make love in the most intimate way possible. And he would tell her.
After that? He wasn't sure. He hoped it meant that they'd be together, always. She'd buy the little yellow farmhouse in a meadow in the White Mountains, and he'd join her there. They'd fill the meadow with rescued horses and eventually fill the house with babies who looked just like her. Lots and lots of them. And they'd each have a pony of their own. And everyone would live happily ever after. The End.
Hell, they should co-write a romance. He was a damn romantic guy. Zach grinned up at Alex. "You make me..." Whole. Complete. Happy.
"Horny as hell?" She bit her lip.
"That, too." He flipped her onto her back and pressed the tip of his erection between the excruciatingly wet heat of her lips. She closed her eyes and sighed, spreading her thighs wide in invitation.
He wanted to ram himself as deeply into her as he could. But more than that, he wanted her to enjoy their joining. Go easy, he told himself---she's little and you're not. Zach poised himself at her opening and began the inch-by-inch drive into her tight pussy. This was the woman he had loved forever, and nothing was more important than bringing her pleasure.
"Open your eyes, Al," he murmured, and when she did, he held her gaze with his own. Her amber eyes were almost black; her pupils had dilated so wide, there was almost no gold left.
"Don't you mean 'Scarlett'?" she asked, her voice husky.
"Later. This time, it's just us." He clenched his teeth and fought for control, especially when she tilted her hips upward, pushing against him. With an effort that made sweat break out on his forehead, he still moved slowly. She wrapped her legs around him, urging him deeper with her heels.
"Zach," she breathed, digging her fingers into his shoulders.
"Not so fast, Scarlett." He reached between them to stroke at her clit with the ball of his thumb, hoping he got the sensitive place she'd shown him. After a moment, her pussy clenched around him and Alex rolled her head back and forth on the pillow, arched her back, thumped her hands onto his back. Oh, God. I've hurt her.
"I'm sorry," he whispered and stilled, giving her body time to adjust. All the women he'd ever had sex with had needed adjustment time---
"You can move a little faster, you know. You're killing me." Alex jerked her hips.
He lifted his head to search her eyes. "You're...you're okay?"
She nodded and gave him a dreamy smile. "I've never been better." She wiggled again and tugged at the hair at his neck.
He dropped his mouth to hers and began pumping in and out of her, slowly at first. Instead of crying out in discomfort, she shouted with enjoyment, even grabbing his ass and pressing him deeper into her, moving her hips to match his rhythm. They soared into the most intense, mind-numbing orgasm he'd ever experienced, and Zach knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Alex had been created especially for him.
Finally, the room stopped spinning. He sank down beside her, his face pressed into her neck. He could still feel the thumping of her heart against the underside of his arm, and the panting breaths that eventually slowed. He lifted his head and brushed his lips over hers. This was it. He took a deep breath. He'd never said this to any woman before. Even if he knew it was true, saying it wasn't something he took lightly. His heart began pounding anew, but instead of passion, it beat with joy, or nerves, or maybe a mixture of both. He wasn't sure. The only thing he knew was that his mind was made up. Zach put his hands on her cheeks, made sure they were eye-to-eye, and that she could read his heart's emotions in his gaze. "Alexandrea Taylor...I love you."
Alex's heart skipped a beat. "Nice touch. I bet you say that to all the girls you screw."
Zach frowned. "No. I never said it to anyone, before."
Impossible. "Come on, Zach. Men say 'I love you' just to make brownie points. It never means anything." She wrapped one of the curls at the curve of his neck around her finger. "Like Tim. He told me he loved me, and I bet he told his assistant the same thing, just so he could get laid. It's a guy thing."
"Alex," Zach growled. "I. Love. You."
He sounded like he meant it. He was good. "Yeah. I love you too, Zach. Let's just drop it, okay?" It hurt too much, playing the game this way. Realizing the man you thought you were going to marry didn't love you at all was bad enough. Hearing it from your best friend---the one who'd just given you the best orgasm of your life---was intolerable. She couldn't bear the thought of looking up at him and reading the truth in his eyes; love was a farce created by...romance writers. Like me, she thought.
But Zach wouldn't let her hide her face from him. He slid his fingers under her chin and forced her to meet his gaze.
His eyes were soft. "Please. Believe me. I'm in love with you, Alex." Zach smiled. "I've been wanting to say that to you forever. But Tim got in the way."
Her heart sped up into an erratic, bumpy beat that made her feel light-headed. "Really?"
"Really." He swiped the tip of his tongue over her lips. "And the way you taste. I could kiss you for hours."
It was too good to be true. Could it be? "We've got hours," she told him, turning to claim his mouth with her own. He was the perfect kisser. Not too wet, not too dry. Just right.
But he broke the kiss. "I'll be right back." He slipped off the bed and left for the bathroom, grabbing a few of the glowing candles for light as he walked.
How could he go from kissing for hours to going to the bathroom?
Simple. He didn't mean it. She sighed and settled back on the pillows. Typical man.
Zach reappeared, confident in his nakedness. Of course. Who wouldn't want to see him, naked? He was as gorgeous as a god. There wasn't one bit of him that didn't inspire desire; even flaccid, his cock made her mouth water and her pussy ache. She wondered how long it would be before they'd make love again.
She hoped he didn't roll over and go to sleep. Tim had always done that. Usually with the television remote clenched tightly in his fingers. His security clicker, she'd called it. Alex sighed as a wave of sadness washed over her. Love. What a joke.
"I'm back," Zach said softly and slid under the covers beside her, tucking his arm under her so that she curled against him, her head resting on his shoulder. He smelled good, like soap and his very own, unique Zach-ness. Was it possible to have your heart broken twice in less than forty-eight hours? Apparently, she was about to find out.
He hugged her. "See? Cuddling rocks. But don't fall asleep, Miz Scarlett. I just pulled another card."
Her heart bumped. Another card? Did he mean it? Alex lifted her head to peer at him. "Really? You want to do it...again?" Well, Zippidy do dah day. She sat up, holding the sheets against her breasts.
He reached over to the nightstand and lifted the card up. "It says here...you know what? I'm not going to read it. I'm just going to do it." He rolled over and stood, holding out his hand. "Come with me."
She couldn't help but notice that his cock was already growing hard for her. Thrills of erotic pleasure slithered through her body, coiling between her thighs, making her tingle and feel boneless. She took his hand and let him tug her to her feet.
Because really---when presented with the option to make love with the sexiest man alive, a girl couldn't question it. She had to just revel in it, and hope that when the weekend was over, they were still able to be friends.
\*\*\*
Kissing Alex was something he could develop an addiction to, Zach realized. And that wouldn't be a bad thing. She tasted sweet, and felt so good, like warm honey---kissing her made him feel as if he glowed from the inside out. Radiant. She made him feel radiant. He gently broke the kiss and pulled away, surprised to see that the soft yellow glow in the bathroom came from the candles he'd purloined from the bedroom, and not from the golden glow he was sure was pouring off his skin like water.
Alex blinked at him. Her pouty lips glistened from their kiss, and her tiny nose scrunched up as she smiled. "I can't believe we're naked but not touching," she whispered.
Zach lifted one of his eyebrows at her. "That's all part of the card, darlin'."
"Ooh," she said and shivered visibly. "Your cowboy voice. I love it when you use your cowboy voice."
"Well, why didn't you say so? I would've cowboyed-up a lot sooner."
She reached down and wrapped her fingers over his stiff cock; her warm, dry clasp made him ache to lay her down and slide deep into her hot, wet grip instead. "Seems to me you cowboyed-up ju-u-u-st fine."
Stick with the program, Zach. He took a deep breath and pushed her hand away. "No touchin', Miz Scarlett."
She pouted again. "I like touching you."
And I'm dying to touch you. But---not yet. He turned her toward the bed by her shoulders. "Onto the bed, Miz Scarlett."
"But I just left it," she said, attempting to turn and sit down.
"Yes. But now you're going back onto it. On your knees."
"Oh," she breathed, and moved onto the bed on all fours, obediently tilting her pelvis upwards in invitation; her musky arousal mixed with the sweet scent of cinnamon made Zach's mouth water. As he watched, her clit unfurled and swelled, opening her passage to his gaze and his cock. It was all he could do not to touch her. Not to lick her and suck at her flesh, flick it with his tongue until she squirmed...
But he couldn't, not yet. He had to wait. Had to let the anticipation build until she was ready to scream, until she was aching for anything he could give her. Until he tortured her---and himself---with desire.
After a moment, he reached out to spread her lips with his index finger and thumb, exposing her to his gaze. Her cunt glistened with her cream; he wanted so much to taste her. She moved her head back and forth, moaning, clenching and unclenching her fists.
"What do you want, darlin'? How about this?" He slid his index finger into her hot, wet passage. She lifted her hips, clenched around him so hard his cock ached. It felt as if it were made of pulsating rock, so heavy, so painful. So good. Wait, he told himself.
He watched the way her breasts moved as she breathed, the way her body quivered as she recovered from her orgasm. Alex swallowed, took a deep breath, and opened her eyes to look at him over her shoulder. "Zach...what about you?" She reached for him, but he grabbed her wrist.
"No. Not yet."
She focused her gaze on his cock. "I've never said this before and I always thought it was the stupidest thing to say, when I read it in a romance. But---your dick is a magnificent thing."
"It's...a thing." He shrugged and pulled her to her feet. "I've never been with a woman who's as small as you." Tiny as Tinker Bell, he wanted to say, but knew he'd be asking for a bruised shin if he did. Years of experience had taught him there was at least one thing you never teased Alex about, unless you wanted her to get mad at you. He grinned to himself and reached beside him on the nightstand for The Box.
"What...did the card say?" She watched him open The Box and pull out the silk handkerchiefs.
He separated out the red one. "Blindfold your partner," he said and placed it over her eyes, tying it loosely behind her head. She was able to open her eyes; it wasn't too tight. But she couldn't see.
"Oh..." she said. "This is kinky."
"Uh-huh. Lie on your back, now."
She lowered herself to her belly and rolled over. Her body trembled. Her nipples pebbled into tight, hard points. Her clitoris swelled again, and moisture trickled between her cheeks; she'd never been so aroused. And all Zach had done was touch her, made her come---and then blindfold her.
"Here's a pillow. Comfortable?" He propped a few pillows behind her head and neck with gentle hands.
"Yes. Am I going to take a nap?" She grinned.
"Eventually." She felt his weight on the bed; the mattress shifted. He touched her hip with his large, callused hands. "Lift up."
She put her heels beneath her to lift her pelvis off the mattress. A pillow caressed the skin of her ass as he slid it beneath her, tilting her hips upward so that she was more exposed to his gaze. "The pillowcase is cold." Alex imagined him sitting there, his eyes on her pussy. She had no idea what he was going to do. All she knew was she was on the precipice of another orgasm. If he so much as breathed on her clit, she'd come.
She heard rustling, then felt Zach's hand sliding down her leg, where cool silk suddenly wrapped around her right ankle. She felt the fabric tighten, heard the bed creak as he tied it to the footboard.
Holy crap. This was unexpected. "Zach?"
"The card also says to tie up your partner." He wrapped a second handkerchief around her left ankle and tied that too. "Are you comfortable?"
"I feel..." Exposed. Really exposed. And...horny as hell. "I'm okay."
"Good." He reached for her hands, clasped them together, then tied them. In moments, she was completely at his mercy, with her arms bent at the elbow and tied over her head.
"My arms are going to fall asleep."
"Maybe. Or maybe you'll be so distracted, you won't notice." His voice was husky. "You look gorgeous. You should see how hot you are."
She felt him lean against the mattress; his mouth pressed to hers in another perfect kiss. He nibbled her lower lip, then pulled away. "If you can't breathe, bang your hands on the headboard, okay?"
"If I can't breathe? What do you---mmph!" Alex's eyes flew open beneath the blindfold as the final silk handkerchief went over her mouth. Zach's fingers were gentle as he tied it behind her head.
"Okay?" he asked softly, drawing a finger over her cheek.
She nodded.
"Good. Wait here."
As if I have a choice, she thought, straining to hear what he was doing. It struck her how much you had to trust the person who tied you up. Because there was no way you could escape. Or yell for help. Or see, if the person suddenly allowed a stream of other people in the room to take advantage of your helplessness... "Mamph?" She called his name against the silk.
"Don't worry. I'm right here." He called to her from what sounded like the other side of the room. "Just...watching you. You're so sexy right now. Do you want me to tell you what I see?"
"Mmph." She didn't really want to know. But it didn't matter---he couldn't understand her.
"Your skin is flushed. Did you know that? I can see it, even though the only light in the room is from the candles. And your tits...they're perfect. So round. Your nipples are the color of strawberry ice cream. I want to lick them."
She shivered.
"I love the curve of your waist...your hips. Makes me want to grab you, and slide between your legs..." His voice grew closer. "And fuck you senseless."
"Mmmmmph." That sounded good, actually.
Something hot and liquid spurted over her belly. What---did he come on her? Was he standing there, whacking off over her helpless body?
"You think I just came on you, don't you?" His voice came closer; she felt his breath puff against her cheek. "Sorry, Al. It's just massage oil."
Oh! How stupid of me. She giggled against the silk. She could feel the oil heating against her skin, now that she knew what it was. In moments, his long-fingered, callused hands began stroking it into her skin. His hands traveled up over her breasts; he squeezed and molded them to his whim.
Zach's hot breath puffed over her skin; Alex leapt slightly as his tongue flicked over one of her nipples. "The oil is strawberry-kiwi flavored. At least it's supposed to be. Tastes more like...mmmm." He drew her nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. She arched up to him. Before long, she felt one of his hands toying with her other nipple; then his tongue slid across her skin to the other breast, where he sucked and teased her until she squirmed. She wanted to feel him inside her. But he didn't relent. He only suckled and teased her, occasionally slipping his hand down to test, but not linger between her legs.
Moisture trickled from her pussy, slipping between her ass cheeks, pooling on the pillow beneath her. She twitched and squirmed, needing him to fill her and stop the ache deep inside her. Please, Zach, please, she pleaded silently.
She heard the crinkle of a paper bag. "I went shopping, you know. I found an adult bookstore. In the mall! Can you imagine? The windows were all painted. There was a guy on a stool outside, checking IDs so kids couldn't sneak in." He leaned close. His breath brushed her cheek, scented sweetly of strawberries and kiwi. "I bought something for you. Can you guess what it is?"
Alex shook her head against the pillows. She began to tremble. She could only imagine what was inside the bag---and she knew she wanted it, whatever it was. If it would make her come.
He rolled it over her skin; it was small and cold, as if made of some kind of metal. In a minute, it began to hum and vibrate. What...? She "mmphd" at him.
"Here...now. If I rub it here..." He drew it over one of her nipples. It tickled and tingled. Then the other. And then he slid it over her belly, down over the curls at the junction of her legs. She began to twitch and buck, hoping she'd get close enough to it to feel it on her clit. But he didn't relent. "It's small. Would you believe it's battery operated? They had one that had a remote control. I could have put it inside you and then pressed 'play.' But then I saw this little silver bullet and decided it was more Rhett. What do you think?" He brushed it over the tops of her thighs, then slipped it around, between the cheeks of her ass.
Under the blindfold, Alex's eyes widened. He wasn't thinking about putting it...there, was he?
Ow. No. That wouldn't be good. She bucked some more, tugging at her restraints, trying to get him to stop. But he didn't. She felt some more of the oil trickling over her, dripping down between her buttocks. And then, the teasing, whirring little vibrator pressed against her anus.
She expected it to hurt. But it didn't. He rubbed it back and forth over the tight opening; she felt his mouth on her breasts again, then his tongue, drawing a line down her belly to her clit. When he flicked his tongue over her, she gasped under the blindfold, thrashing her head from side to side. She was going to climax. And then, he pressed the bullet vibrator against her anus. It whirred as he slipped it inside her, and hot trails of pleasure zinged through her body again and again. She felt the head of his cock poised at the aching opening of her pussy. He rubbed against her clit, right at the place she'd shown him she liked. She nearly came right then. Maybe she did, a little. Abruptly, he slid his cock into her. Alex felt full of the tiny vibrator and Zach. It was wonderful.
Her body moved of its own accord, bucking and sparking with pleasure that pulsed from her center outward, bathing her in a shower of sparkling white stars. Zach plunged against her, pushing her to climax again and again and again. She felt helpless and powerful all at once, with Zach thrusting and the little toy whirring inside her.
"Oh...Alexxxx!" Zach called out, and then she felt him grow larger, hardening even more. "Can you feel it? I can feel it there, inside you. It's...it's..." He began trembling violently, and she knew he was about to come.
He yanked the blindfold from her eyes and she drank in the sight of him, his face tight with pleasure and the pain of holding himself back, his eyes wide and dark. "Alex," he moaned again, then fell against her, pressing his mouth to hers in a deep kiss that promised her a lifetime of pleasure. He pumped into her, and together they rose into a heaven of their own making, where they flew on wings of sensation.
I'm his, Alex thought. And he's mine. She would love him until the day she died---and, she hoped, it would be a very, very long time. Because a lifetime of Zach wouldn't be enough. She needed to love him, forever.
Except...what would she do, she wondered, if he didn't love her back?
The next morning, Alex stood in the center of the riding ring, watching the scads of women and a few men lining the fence. Holy crap. I knew Zach's workshop was going to be popular, but did everyone show up?
Most of the attendees wore business casual attire, as befitting a conference. Some of them, most likely the ones who packed for any situation, wore jeans or casual pants. Others, probably those who had met with editors or agents earlier in the day, had on skirts or dresses. And heels.
"Okay. Here are the headset mikes. These are the only ones I could find in the van. I think we used them last week for some high-school event." The production man hired to record each workshop came up from the end of the ring. He handed one unit to each of them. "You put it over your head and put the earpiece in---if you push this button here, you can talk to each other. Or, if you push this button, you can talk over the PA system. That's what I want to record. Just be careful not to hit the wrong button."
"Thanks." Alex put the headphones on and pushed her button. "Test?"
Her voice blared over the barn's PA system, installed for the horse shows the barn owner held every Sunday during the summer.
"Ooh. Crap!" She hurriedly turned the mike off. She didn't do public speaking.
Zach grinned. He didn't mind talking in public. As a teacher, it was what he did. Which was why she knew he'd be a good presenter. She grinned back at him, then pointed her chin at the women lining the fence.
She could see many of them wrinkled their noses at the dust, and though she stood in the center of the large ring, Alex could hear them making comments about the horse smell.
Too bad for them. There wasn't a better, more comforting scent in the world than the smell of warm horse. Which, come to think of it, was a little bit of the Zach scent she loved to inhale. Not horseshit, of course, but dusty horse, sweet hay, old leather, and sweet grass.
Either way, warm horse or horse shit, their complaints of the odor didn't stop any of them from pushing their way as close to the fence as possible, to peer at Zach like he was an animal in a romance writers' zoo exhibit.
She imagined turning on the mike again: Good afternoon, ladies. What you see here is a prime example of the alpha male human, with heartbreak-blue eyes and raven-black hair cut into the traditional unruly tousle so prized by many cover artists. Please note how he stands at six feet, three inches---taller than the average male---yet not so tall as to appear freakish. Also, he has a wide-shouldered physique, moving down to his narrow waist to create the "inverted V" shape rhapsodized about by hundreds of writers. Notice the nicely rippled torso and proportionately muscular arms suitable for any cover, especially one also featuring a large sword. Speaking of large swords: I'd like to draw your attention to the size of his feet, which---as the urban legend goes---indicates the size of what some of you might term his "manhood." In this male's case, the feet do not lie...
She sighed and, as he came up beside her, said, "I think that was the last shuttle bus from the hotel. You might as well get started before they jump the fence and rush you."
He lifted the crown of his black hat, shifting it back and forward to shade his eyes. "Hold Stars for me, will you? Be careful. I'm not sure he won't startle if the microphone feeds back. But I need to be hands free to demonstrate tacking up."
Alex took Stars' reins. While Zach began his talk, Stars'n'Stripes twitched his ears and rumbled a whinny at her. As if he couldn't care less about the sound of the PA system or the two hundred plus romance writers lining the rails, the horse dropped his head down to rest his forehead against her chest, sighed hot breath over her belly, and let his lids fall low over his eyes. "Startle, my ass. Zach just didn't want you leaning on him while he talked, you lazy beast." Alex chuckled.
Stars began to snore.
She began playing with the horse's forelock, pulling it out from under the brow band of his bridle, combing it with her fingers until it lay straight and flat over his broad bay face while he snoozed.
Zach continued to talk, walking around Stars, lifting a stirrup and then saddle flap to discuss how the saddle is cinched, different styles of saddles, and on and on. The sad thing was, Alex realized, he could be talking about the price of tea in Bangladesh and it wouldn't matter. The women weren't listening. They were lusting, practically drooling on their shoes, and probably rewriting their heroes in their minds, to look just like him.
She couldn't blame them. As much as she didn't want to admit it, Zach was high-def eye candy in black chaps. His tight jeans were faded in all the right places---ripped in some even better ones--- like under the curve of one ass cheek. She could see the dark hair on the back of his thigh as he moved about, and when he hitched his jeans up, she caught one small glimpse of his silky black briefs.
When he'd slid the briefs on that morning, she'd practically come on the spot. They cupped him perfectly, outlining the shape of his cock and emphasizing the bulge of his balls, inspiring the desire to touch and to feel the cool, sleek fabric against her lips...
Even now, in the middle of the dusty ring, in plain view of her colleagues, friends and even her editor, she imagined sticking her index finger and thumb in that telltale peek hole, enlarging it, tearing it wider and wider until she could place her entire hand under the denim and slide it round to cup the heavy pouch of him, held snugly in those briefs. Maybe push her fingers under the waistband, to wrap them around his thick shaft, stroking it until---
"And here, Alex is holding the reins, which are attached to the bit." He bumped her with his hip. The heat of his body enveloped her, and her treacherous body responded by readying her passage for him, until the crotch of her panties was damp and uncomfortable.
When the last workshop participant left, she promised herself, she was going to drag Zach to the barn for a real roll in the hay. Maybe a few rolls.
Zach slipped the reins over Stars' head and handed them back to her, then slid the bit out of Stars' mouth and held it up to show the women how it was attached to the bridle. He talked about how the bit worked in the horse's mouth---its purpose and different types---and then showed them how his horse accepted it back in his mouth.
"Stars' bit has what's called a roller on it. He likes to play with it, with his tongue."
I'd like to play with you with my tongue, Zach-boy. You know you can ride me, anytime... Alex sighed. She was addicted to Zach. As dangerous as she knew it was, she was going to tell him. Waking up in his arms that morning, the thought had come to her: how could she have ever thought Tim was the One, when it was obvious that Zach was her One all along? She could tell just from the way he'd opened his eyes to meet hers, and smiled.
Tim had usually groaned and pulled his pillow over his head.
Zach had pulled her into his arms.
What an idiot I was. All that time wasted...
Now in the center of the ring, his eyes met hers; he winked. Alex's heart thudded, and it took all of her willpower not to leap against him, tackle him to the dusty ground, and tear off his clothes.
But then he swung his leg over Stars' back and settled into the saddle, and she sighed with pleasure. Zach on a horse was poetic. Like a sunset or a symphony or the finest chocolate or even great sex---the sight soothed the soul and brought a sigh of pleasure. He appeared to be a part of the saddle, so comfortable and at ease, moving in telepathic tandem with his horse. It was breathtaking. She couldn't explain it any other way.
She held the reins while he retightened the cinch from above---not usually an easy feat, but one he performed with ease---and explained how many horses blow up their bellies when you first saddle them, so it was a good idea to have your character recheck the cinch or girth before galloping away.
Unless the writer wanted their character to find him or herself upside down under a running horse, that is.
The women laughed, but Zach had the feeling it wasn't true laughter, just a patronizing chuckle to get on his good side. He was used to it.
Only Alex laughed for real. That was why he loved her. And that was why she was the only woman he'd ever consider giving his heart to. He wished the women watching him with assessing eyes, making him feel like a piece of meat instead of a person, realized that he was with Alex not only as a friend, but as a lover.
Easy enough. When she handed up the reins, he leaned down to her, tilting his hat back and pressing his mouth to hers, flicking her lips with his tongue in a way that mimicked how he'd teased the sensitive flesh of her clit. Alex slid her hand up onto his neck. He could feel her turning to jelly beneath his kiss and heard her whimpering with need. When he ended the kiss, she grabbed on to the stirrup and sagged against Stars' shoulder, breathless.
This garnered more appreciative laughter. But he ignored the women. Instead, he gave Alex a wink and touched his finger to the brim of his hat in salute. "Miz Scarlett," he drawled, settled back in the saddle and rode onto the rail, gratified to see her collapsing onto the mounting block with her hand over her chest, as if she were trying to stop her heart from beating out of her chest and across the ring after him.
Satisfied he'd made his point, Zach tilted the microphone into place and talked about warming up your horse, how a good rider wouldn't really race away. He talked about the history of horsemanship and the relationship of people and their horses, showing off the fact he'd minored in history as an undergrad in college. Satisfied his horse was ready, he urged Stars into his usual easy jog and then his comfortable, long-stridden lope.
For fun, he did some fancy tricks, like fast stops, slides, and all manner of barrel racing moves. And then, as planned, the barn owner put some honky-tonk on the PA system---and Stars danced.
Zach explained how he gave the horse cues to move just by shifting his weight or the pressure of his legs, the nudge of a heel or the tilt of the rein against his neck, and the women were held completely spellbound. He was glad. Finally they were watching his horse, and not him.
But he wasn't done. As the music ended, he and Stars moved to the center of the ring, where they stopped. Stars made a one-legged bow in front of Alex---at Zach's urging---and Zach held out his hand. "Finally, I want to talk to you about riding double."
Alex took his hand, placed her foot on his---in the stirrup---and let him swing her up in front of him, where she balanced precariously, the horn of the saddle pressing intimately between her thighs. He had to push all the way back until he sat on the edge of his saddle.
Stars stomped his feet, angry that he had to deal with a saddle poking into his back, as well as the additional weight of an unbalanced rider. "I just want you to notice how uncomfortable this all is," Zach said. "We wouldn't be able to travel very far this way, even at a walk, never mind a gallop. So forget the scenes where your hero and heroine ride into the sunset to live happily ever after. In reality, their hero's horse---probably not a stallion, by the way---would probably pull up lame. And neither the hero nor the heroine would be in the mood for any blanket-bingo by the campfire that night, because they'd be too sore. And on that note---I'm going to end my presentation before we get too sore ourselves."
He turned off the mike to a thunder of applause and swung down. Alex remained perched in place, peering down at him.
"You're such a show-off," she told him.
"You love it," he answered.
She rolled her eyes at him.
Zach couldn't help but grin. Only his Alex would call him on his shit. All the other women he met bent over backwards to compliment him and simper. Which was nice, but fake. Because he didn't deserve that much adoration based on his looks alone. He was just a guy, a human being, and Alex never forgot that. She never treated him like meat, or a pretty face.
"I've got something to show you." He winked.
She gave him a grin and swung her leg over to dismount; he helped her down, sliding his hands over her body as she did. Alex shivered, turned in his grip to stand on tiptoe and kiss his chin, pressing her body into the front of his jeans. "I can't wait for everyone to leave. I have plans for the hayloft. You in?"
"Oh, yeah..." he growled, feeling the front of his jeans growing uncomfortably tight. But first things first. "I'm going to walk Stars around to cool him off. Mind finding a safe place for my saddle and pad? I'll load it up in the pickup later."
"Not a problem." She waited while he un-tacked Stars, huffing a bit when he placed the saddle in her hands. "Too heavy?"
"Got enough nickel trim? Geez." She made a face and rolled her eyes at him. "Is that a turquoise inlay?"
"Nothing but the best." Zach grinned. "That's our show saddle."
"Great," she teased, turning away. "Meet you in the hayloft." She opened the gate and left the ring.
Zach watched her go. She had a fantastic little walk, enough to make him want to forget cooling off his horse so he could cool off the heat Alex generated in his groin.
Behind him, Stars stomped, snorted horse snot on the back of his neck, and pushed his hat over his eyes. Zach laughed. "All right, all right. I know. Come on. Let's walk." He started around the ring, the horse plodding along beside him.
As they walked, Zach tipped the microphone part of the headset under his chin. The production guy wasn't at the machine, outside the far end of the ring, so he couldn't turn in the equipment yet. He decided to keep it on, where at least it would be safe and not covered in ring dust. If he put it into his pocket, it would be just his luck to drop it and have his horse step on it.
No, that wasn't his luck. Right now, he was the luckiest man in the world. He'd told the woman he loved how he felt, and though she hadn't said the words, he knew she returned the sentiment, in spades. Plus, he knew she was true---she wasn't using him for a trophy or to show someone up. She was with him because of who he was, not what he was, and she was his match in every conceivable way.
Suddenly, his microphone crackled in his ear. Zach turned his head to look, but the production guy still wasn't at the recording table.
Then he heard Alex grunt, "Wuff! That's heavy!" and huff out a breath. He heard the sound of his saddle creaking the way it did when put onto a saddle rack, the clatter of a wooden stirrup, the clank of the cinch buckle on the floor. She'd probably hit the button by accident when she swung the saddle onto the rack, he realized.
"Alex. Turn off your mike," he said. But she didn't hear him. He shrugged. No matter.
Her cell phone rang. He heard her open it and begin to speak. "Hello? Oh, hi, Carla. Let me put you on speaker. My arms are killing me. I think I sprained my elbows hauling Zach's saddle back to the barn."
Zach snorted. He'd have to offer her a massage back in the room. A completely naked one. His cock stiffened.
"Alex! Zach. Is. A. Hunk," her editor breathed. "Why didn't you tell me you knew him?"
"I've known him practically forever. He's a friend of mine."
"That kiss. Was it as good as it looked?"
"Better."
He grinned. Of course it was.
"You are s-o-o-o lucky. Are you rooming with him?"
"Of course," Alex answered, sounding pleased.
"Is he...are you and he...?" Carla trailed off.
"Having sex? We are now. He's helping me research the historotica."
Zach frowned. Sex? Was that what she called it? She sounded so blithe about it. As if it didn't mean anything.
"With the cards? You're using the cards?"
"Oh yeah," Alex purred. "Are we ever."
"No wonder I haven't seen you at the meals or the workshops. You've been busy. Doing...research." Carla barked out a harsh laugh.
Alex joined in. "Research like rabbits."
"Tell me...was that 'Miz Scarlett' comment from your research? Are you role-playing?"
"Absolutely. He's Rhett, I'm Scarlett, and we're burning down the plantation."
Carla laughed. "This book is going to be incredible, if you can write his kisses to be as hot as that one looked. If it doesn't fly off the shelves and up the bestseller list, I'll eat my slush pile," Carla said. "And if we could put him on the cover..."
"His looks alone would sell the book. Yeah, I know."
Zach stopped walking. Alex? Wanted to use his looks? To sell her book?
"You're not kidding," Carla purred. "You've got yourself a gorgeous boy toy."
"Oh boy," Alex said. "But---"
Zach tore the earpiece out of his ear and ripped the headset off, dropping it to the ground. He'd heard enough. Alex was using him for his looks, to sell her books. She didn't care about him. She was just like everybody else. He looked down at the microphone and crushed it into the dust with the heel of his boot.
He'd never felt so betrayed in his life.
"---he's not a toy," Alex told Carla, leaning against a stall door to wait for Zach. "He's really a great guy. And it offends him when people treat him like an object."
"You'll have to introduce me to him so I can decide for myself," Carla answered. "Once I recover from the glow of that kiss."
"You and me both." Alex straightened as she saw him approach the barn, Stars ambling by his side. "Here he comes. I gotta go."
"Give him a kiss for me." Carla laughed and hung up.
Alex shoved her phone into her pocket and hurried out to meet Zach. "You. Were. Awesome!" she told him.
He gave her a glance and strode by without a word. "Zach?" Alex felt like she'd been struck. Where was his smile? His laugh?
Why were his eyes as cold as polar icecaps?
What was wrong?
"Zach!" She began to run, even though she knew she shouldn't. Not around a barn. She skidded to a stop where he'd cross-tied Stars; the horse tossed his head and danced sideways, startled.
Zach hooked his bridle over a rack on his stall door, then reached into his grooming box for a brush. He began flicking it over the horse's side with quick twists of his wrist. He didn't look at her.
"Zach?" She grabbed Stars' halter and scratched the horse's nose. "Is there something wrong?"
He stopped, dropped the brush in the box, then straightened. His eyes pierced her from under the brim of his hat. "You left your mike on," he said. "I heard your conversation with your editor."
"So?" Alex gripped either side of the halter; it was the only thing she could think of to do. Otherwise, she might fall. Her legs were weak. This wasn't her Zach. What had they said? Why was he so cold, so distant? It was beyond anger, it was worse.
"Research. Like rabbits. With your boy toy? The one who will sell your books, once you put him on the cover?" He unhooked the cross ties, snapped a lead rope onto his horse and tugged him out of Alex's grip, turning him in the aisle to lead him away.
Oh no. She had said that. But she'd been making nice with her editor. And she'd told her that he wasn't a boy toy at all. Hadn't he heard that part?
"Wait!" Alex called. "That's not what I said! Didn't you hear me...tell her..." Her voice trailed off as Zach and Stars turned the corner and disappeared without looking back.
She wanted to follow him, to plead with him and tell him he was wrong.
But she couldn't make a scene. Not now, while conference-goers still milled about the grounds waiting for their turn on the shuttle. She'd have to get back to the room and meet him there, head on. Maybe she could get there before he did. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and called Carla. She had a car. A fast one.
\*\*\*
Back in the room, she paced back and forth, waiting for him to show up. He had to come back, she told herself. He would. His things were here, his clothes. Some of them, anyway. His duffle, at least. True, his saddle, his bridle, his hat, boots, chaps---all the expensive gear---was with him. But he would return, wouldn't he?
She couldn't imagine that he would just load Stars up in the trailer hooked to the back of his pickup and leave. Not without saying goodbye. Not without...something. Not after the night they'd shared.
Her phone rang; she vaulted over the bed to the nightstand to grab it. "Zach?" she answered, her heart in her throat. "I'm sorry. Please---"
"Why did you think this was Zach?" Tim answered.
Crap! Alex winced. He was the last person she wanted to talk to. "What is it, Tim?"
"It's about time you turned your phone on. I've been trying to reach you all weekend. I wanted to talk to you. About what happened on Thursday. You left before I could talk to you."
She felt queasy all of a sudden. The emotional roller-coaster ride had gone on long enough, and she wanted to get off. "Well, yeah. Finding your boyfriend in your bed with his assistant is one of those things a person doesn't like to stick around to watch." Idiot.
"I know," he answered. "You're right, and I'm sorry. But it was---I knew you'd be rooming with Zach, and I was jealous."
She rolled her eyes. "So you jumped into bed with what's-her-name? And I'm supposed to accept your rationale and say, 'Oh, it's okay'? Tim, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."
"You're right. It is. And it was. Stupid, I mean. So I want to apologize."
"I'm not really interested in your apology, Tim."
"That's too bad, because...I'm in the lobby."
"What?" She sat on the bed before she fell over. Tim? In the hotel? "What are you talking about?"
"I drove down here to talk to you. I didn't want to do it over the phone. Please, Alex. I want to apologize for being so stupid. I love you. I was afraid I was going to lose you and I panicked. I didn't mean to hurt you... Can we just talk? Please?"
Oh my God. Alex's head spun. She wanted to crawl into bed and hide for the rest of the weekend. Maybe the rest of the year.
But that wouldn't solve anything. It wouldn't help her apologize to Zach, and it wouldn't help her to do---whatever---with Tim. She sighed.
Whether or not Zach had left was something she'd have to find out later. As much as she didn't want to face Tim, the fact was, they lived together. She'd have to face him sooner or later.
"We didn't do anything," Tim said then.
"Except for the part where you were fucking her."
"But it didn't mean anything."
"Right."
"Please. Please, Alex. Let me come up and talk to you. What room are you in?" He paused. "I could always ask at the desk. Or maybe one of these women, here. One of them must know you. I can find out. You know I will."
She took a deep breath. The last thing she needed was Tim making a scene in the lobby. She didn't doubt that he would. "I'll come down to the lobby. Wait for me. I'll be right down. But this doesn't mean anything."
How could it? She'd slept with Zach.
Alex hung up the phone before Tim could say anything else.
When she got to the lobby, she spotted him instantly. Of course. He wasn't as handsome as Zach---no man was---but he was pleasant to look at all the same. In fact, he was nicer to look at in some ways, because he wasn't blindingly perfect. His hair was brown, his eyes were hazel, and his teeth, though shiny white, were slightly overlapped on the bottom. But he had nice dimples when he smiled, and a cleft in his squared chin.
He was attractive in an ordinary way, the kind of man women would smile at, perhaps flirt with, but when he walked across the lobby to meet her, no one dropped anything. Women watched him walk by, but there was no devastation. Just appreciation for a cute set of buns and nice shoulders. Nothing more.
It was a bit of a relief, actually. She stood and watched him, wishing she could ignore the way he approached with his arms open. "Alex," he said, pulling her against his chest; she smelled the familiar citrus scent of his expensive cologne.
She couldn't help but compare it to Zach's unique scent of leather, horse, and warmth. Tim's cologne was nice, but...it didn't make her want to bury her face into his chest and never let go. She wanted to sneeze.
She pushed her way out of Tim's grasp and looked up at him, unsure of what to say. As usual, however, she didn't have to worry about it; Tim started talking and didn't appear to want to stop. "You look great," he told her. "Can we go to your room?"
No way. It was her and Zach's room. She didn't want it tainted by Tim.
Tainted? Is that how you feel about him? Twenty-four hours ago, you were depressed because you thought you and he were through.
Twenty-four hours ago, you would have been thrilled if he showed up, told you he made a mistake, and tried to convince you to come back.
Twenty-four hours ago, Zach was still your buddy, and not the man who'd made you feel...amazing. Sexy. Confident. Strong. And loved.
And confused.
"I don't think so, Tim. We can stay right here." She moved off to the side of the lobby, to a grouping of upholstered chairs clustered around a utilitarian coffee table. He looked around.
"It's not very private."
She sat down and gestured to the large potted palms on either sides of the conversation area. "It's practically in a jungle. How private do you need?"
Funny, she mused as if from a distance, it wasn't too long ago that there wasn't enough privacy to be had with Tim. She'd loved him, dammit.
Was it really loved? As in past tense loved?
When had that happened? When she found him in our bed with his assistant, or when she went to bed with Zach?
Or long before that?
Zach was right, in a way. Her relationship with Tim was easy. She took care of stuff around the house; he worked and paid for her existence. She was often so busy writing, she didn't notice he wasn't home---or didn't care.
He could have been fooling around with his assistant for years, and she wouldn't have even noticed.
She swallowed and looked up at him. "Are you going to sit?"
"Actually, no." Tim peered around a potted palm, shrugged and reached into his pocket. "I think...I'll kneel, instead." He dropped to one knee, pulling a small, light-blue jeweler's box of his pocket at the same time. He held it flat on his palm and opened it.
She didn't have to look to see what was inside. Alex put her hand over her mouth. Her stomach flip-flopped. An acidy taste filled her mouth. "Oh...my...God," she whispered.
Tim's eyes glowed as he cleared his throat and said, his voice tear choked yet confident, "The past few days have been the worst of my life. I made a terrible mistake. But maybe, in the end, it wasn't so terrible because it made me realize how much I need you in my life. Alexandra Taylor, will you marry me?"
There you are, Boy Toy," said a woman's silky voice.
Zach felt her draw her long fingernails over his back as the polished brunette settled on the barstool beside him. "I'm not your boy toy," he said, lifting his beer bottle to his lips, shaking her hand off his shoulder. He wished he could splash the beer on her suit jacket. Or something. He was in no mood to be flirted with or propositioned. He was ready to swear off women, forever. Starting with Alex.
He'd never forgive her. She lied to him. And then acted so innocent, as if she'd never talked about him as if he were nothing to her but a pretty, marketable face and a hot bod. He was going to tell her he never wanted to see her again.
After he calmed down, anyway. He didn't want to end a fifteen-year relationship with yelling. Even though he had a right to be angry. He didn't want to be the bad guy or give her an excuse to call him a jerk because he couldn't control his temper. If he was calm, then she'd have to wallow in guilt. It was her fault, after all, not his. He was only cursed; she was an opportunist, and he wasn't about to be her tool.
Even so, while he'd put Stars out to paddock and driven back to the hotel, he'd realized something. When you love somebody, even when that person hurts you badly, you can't just walk away. Not really. Even when you know you should. He needed to work up the words---and the courage---to go and tell her he never wanted to see her again.
The thought made him feel sick. Never again?
Yes. It had to be that way. She used him, just like every other woman did. Worse. She was going to use him to make money. Like he was a freakin' whore.
The brunette ordered a dirty martini and another beer for him. Zach didn't look at her, though he could feel her staring at him. God, did they ever stop staring, or stop trying to pick him up to lure him to their beds? He was so sick of being the object of attention, just because he had a look that women craved. "Keep your beer. I don't want it."
"Yes you will. Because you and I have to talk, handsome, and you'll want something to hold onto."
Talk? Yeah, right. "Fuck off," he snarled.
"Ooh. Alex didn't tell me you had such a foul mouth. Doesn't detract from your looks though, sweetie."
At the sound of Alex's name, Zach slammed his bottle down on the bar with a clank and spun to face the woman. She looked at him with steady gray eyes and a smirk.
He snarled, "Look, I don't know you and I don't want to talk to you. And you can wipe that fucking smile off your face, lady. I'm not interested. Got it?"
The bartender appeared, placing her martini and Zach's beer on the bar; she turned in her seat, picked up the glass and took a ladylike sip, eyes closed. "Mmm. I love the way this man makes martinis. I wonder if I could box him up and take him home with me? My own personal martini man," she purred. Then she turned back to Zach. "I don't care if you're interested or not, Mr. O'Connor. You don't mind me calling you Mr. O'Connor, do you? It is your name, after all."
Zach stared at her. She obviously wasn't going to go away, and no matter what he said, he wasn't ready to leave the bar for his and Alex's room. Yet.
He sighed. "Who are you? And what do you want?"
"I'm Carla Giarelli, Alex's editor and the one who gave her a ride back to the hotel from your presentation today."
"Oh." He took a swig of beer. "Great."
"Lucky, actually. Alex Demille is one of my best writers. You know that, don't you?"
"Yeah." He made rings on the bar with the condensation of his bottle. Carla was the one who started all the shit to begin with. If she hadn't called Alex, he'd be playing Rhett right now, pulling a card and playing some kind of kinky game with Miz Scarlett. Crap. He hated this woman. "Why don't you just fuck off and leave me alone?"
"Because, Mr. O'Connor. My best writer was crying her eyes out all the way back to this hotel and talking about how she wanted to quit writing for my company. She's ready to walk away from what I believe will be one of the bestselling books we've ever had, all because of you. You know, my little company needs a big bestseller, and we can't afford to let her quit or walk away."
"Look, she used me. So you---and she---can just go screw. Yourselves. Okay?" He picked up his beer and looked up at the television hung in the corner over the end of the bar. He didn't care what was on, but it was better to look at that than the money-grubbing, martini-drinking witch beside him.
"Mr. O'Connor. Did you hear the entire conversation Alex and I had, or just part of it?"
He frowned and turned back to her. "You don't give up, do you?"
"It's not my job to give up." She finished her martini and signaled the bartender for another with a wave of a manicured finger. Then she turned back to him. "Did you hear her dressing me down for calling you a boy toy?"
"She didn't dress you down. She laughed."
"Initially, yes. But after I said we should put you on the cover---"
"She agreed! She said my looks alone would sell books."
"She agreed with me because it's true, Mr. O'Connor. Then she went on to tell me that you're anything but a boy toy. In fact, based on our conversation on the ride back---which you weren't able to eavesdrop on---she told me in no uncertain terms that she loves you and would be devastated if she wasn't able to tell you that before you walked out on her. Which---apparently---is not necessarily what you're planning to do, considering you're sitting here in the bar drinking beer."
"What do you mean she told you she loves me?" And why didn't she tell me she loved me? She had a whole night to do it.
"I don't know, Mr. O'Connor. Why don't you go to her yourself and find out? She's on a deadline, you know. She needs to get that outline to me by the end of the day tomorrow. Meanwhile, I think I'm going to work some magic on my Martini Man, here. You're very attractive, but...you're really not my type."
What? Zach turned to stare at her. "I'm sorry?"
Carla laughed. "Oh, you don't want to be called Boy Toy, but you're not comfortable being ignored, either. Are you?" She rolled her eyes. "You're such a man. But you heard me. You're not my type. You're too dark. I like blonds. Like him." She gestured down the bar with her chin. "Mm-mmm. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some seducing to do..." She got up and moved down to the other side of the bar, where the bartender stood shining the brass fixtures with a cloth.
Zach didn't know whether he should laugh or be insulted. Laugh, he thought. Carla's not your type either. He grinned and got up to leave.
"You really know how to buff that brass, don't you, handsome? Must be those muscles of yours..." Carla turned her head to look at Zach. "Are you still here? Go, Boy Toy. You're cramping my style. Go tell Alex you forgive her for placating her materialistic and shallow editor." She waved her fingers at him.
He shook his head. Scary lady. And, possibly, a good friend.
He hurried out, nearly breaking into a run as he neared the elevators. They'd be full of romance writers on their way to workshops, and it would be slow going.
He didn't want to delay any longer. He'd already spent too much time sulking like a dickhead when he should have been talking to Alex. He'd take the stairs that hugged one wall of the lobby, run to their room---praying she was there---and he'd put his arms around her. He'd tell her he was sorry. And he'd fall to one knee to tell her how much he loved her.
Zach rounded the corner of the hall leading to the lobby, making his way to the stairs. It was crowded, of course. He had to slow down and make his way around conference-goers clustered in their little groups, looking at maps, materials and manuscripts, chatting and networking.
It was as he made his way around the conversation area and the stairs that he saw Alex seated in the overstuffed chair, almost hidden by a potted palm. Her hands were pressed to her cheeks, her mouth was a perfect "o," and her eyes were glistening with tears. She looked...surprised, as she stared down at the floor near her feet; he couldn't see what she was looking at because of the couch on one side of the conversation area.
Was she okay? What was going on? He moved closer to see what she was looking at. There, behind the furniture blocking his view, was The Asshole. He was holding out a box with a ring nestled inside; it had a rock the size of Stars on it.
Holy shit.
Zach stopped short, his heart in his throat. His knees were weak. No! He tried to shout, but nothing would come out. It was like being in a nightmare, the kind where you tried to escape but couldn't move or talk. All he could do was lurch---as if he were trapped in Jell-O---toward Alex, before she took the ring and bound herself to Tim.
\*\*\*
Alex stared down at the ring in Tim's hand. It was gorgeous. Even in the dim light of the lobby, it sparkled as if the light of the sun were captured in its facets.
She'd dreamed of this moment for so long. Tim on one knee, asking her to be his wife.
He'd said he was sorry. He'd driven six hours to get to her. And he had this ring. This beautiful, huge ring.
"I picked it out with you in mind," he murmured, holding it out. She reached for it, then hesitated. Wait a minute...
"What do you mean, 'with me in mind'? Who else might you have in mind?"
Tim frowned, looking confused. "I meant, thinking of how nice it would look on your finger. On your hand."
"I would hope my finger would be on my hand," Alex blurted. What a stupid thing for him to say.
"Can I get up now? Geez, Alex, just take it." He pushed himself to his feet and pushed the box into her hand. "Put it on so I can see if it fits. It might need to be sized up."
"Sized...up?" She frowned. Damn it. This was so not the way she'd pictured this. Any of it. Tim was supposed to slide the ring onto her finger. He was supposed to get her a ring that fit, not one that needed to be sized up, like she was some kind of freakish mini-giant.
Zach would know how to do this. He'd know my ring size. And he wouldn't whine about getting up---he'd just lean over and kiss me. And tell me he loves me. And I'd be happy...
"Zach," she whispered.
"What?" Tim said.
"No!" Zach yelled, tumbling over the back of the sofa and knocking Tim down.
The ring box flew up into the air, landing in one of the potted palms. Alex leapt out of the chair, her heart pounding. "Zach!" She reached for him, tears blurring her eyes. She'd been so sure she'd never see him again. Thank God he was here. She blinked. Yeah, here, now, lying on top of Tim on the lobby floor. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
He climbed to his feet, straddling Tim, who lay sprawled on the imitation Persian rug. "Don't, Al. Don't do it. If you marry him, you'll be miserable."
"You asshole!" Tim rolled himself from under Zach and stood up. "This is none of your business, so fuck off." He rustled through the plant for the ring.
"Oh yeah?" Zach turned to face him. "Alex is my business. You had your chance and you blew it. And incidentally, you're The Asshole."
Tim stood with clenched fists. Zach squared up. Alex rolled her eyes and stepped between them. "I do not believe this. Tim, if you want me to be your wife, you'd better get over the fact that my best friend is the sexiest man on the face of the earth and that every woman wants him." Including me. The realization that if she married Tim she'd never make love to Zach again hit her like a brick.
"Whatever." Another confused look crossed his face, which finally settled into a scowl. "What do you mean, be his wife? You're not going to marry him, are you?" But then again
She poked him in the chest with her index finger. "Why don't you just shut up?"
"Yeah," Tim said. "My future wife said to shut up." He held out the box. "Here. Put it on."
"I can't. It doesn't fit. And you shut up, too." She poked Tim with her other index finger. "I didn't say I'd be your wife. I just said if you wanted me to be your wife."
"But---"
"Shut. Up." Poke. Poke! She used her finger for emphasis.
"Carla told me what you said to her. I wanted to apologize," Zach said.
"Too bad. You're not off the hook, either. You should have trusted me to begin with." Poke. "And besides, you're full of shit and you know it." Alex sat down in the chair and put her hand over her eyes. She didn't want to look at either one of them, standing there looking full of testosterone and bravado. Idiots. The pair of them.
A cluster of writers moved past, staring at Zach. Despite the jungle of palms, they weren't really alone. This wasn't a scene she wanted to share with her colleagues. She stood up. "Follow me. We're going to my room."
"Both of us?" Tim asked.
"Yes." She didn't look back.
They fell into step, one on either side of her. Of course, neither one of them would fall back, but instead felt the need to stay next to her. She reminded herself to make notes of their behavior for a future book. Alpha males.
Idiots.
Who knew?
She sighed and pushed the elevator button. Tim went in first. Zach stepped back for her to enter first, along with a gaggle of writers coming back from a workshop. He ended up standing in the front, near the buttons. He pressed the seventh-floor button---the executive level---and all the writers got out before they reached their floor, leaving them alone in the elevator. It hummed as it ascended.
"You did room together," Tim said, his eyes narrowed.
"We did more than that," Zach muttered.
Alex kicked his shin and hissed.
He frowned down at her, his blue eyes blazing. Alex's stomach did a slow backwards flip. Alpha males might be idiots, but sometimes, they were magnificent.
Enough to make a girl horny.
In an elevator.
With her ring-bearing almost-fiancé standing nearby.
Damn it.
"You won't say a word. Not one. It's my place to tell him, and I'm not going to do it on the elevator."
"Tell me what?" Tim asked.
She rolled her eyes. "Nothing."
"Nothing? You think it was nothing? It was a hell of a lot more than nothing, Alexandrea Alise Taylor, and you know it," Zach growled.
"Don't you even use my middle name, Zachary Michael O'Connor."
"Your middle name is Alise? I thought it was Alice," Tim said.
"Asshole," Zach muttered.
Had Tim always been like this? Alex put her hands over her face, trying to get the image of her boyfriend enjoying the special attentions of his assistant out of her mind, and leaned against the wall. "Shut. Up. Both of you."
The elevator bumped to a stop, and the door opened; Zach led the way out into the hall and down to their room, pulling his magnetic key card out of his rear jeans pocket as he walked.
"I don't know what women see in him," Tim muttered beside her. "He doesn't even know how to dress. Look at that hole in his jeans."
"Yeah. Look at it." Alex tried hard not to remember the sensuous thoughts she'd had about that very hole, earlier in the day. Before everything fell apart.
Dear God. If she and Zach hadn't had their argument, Tim would have shown up and they would have been in bed together. Might have made this a lot easier, she realized. At least for Tim.
\*\*\*
They followed Zach into the room. He tossed the key on the desk, dropped his hat on top of it, and then flopped onto the bed. Mine. Get it, Tim?
Tim's eyes narrowed. He turned to Alex. "You slept together!"
"Comes the dawn," Zach muttered. Then he stood up. "And you fucked your assistant in the bed you shared with Alex. So what's the problem?"
"That's between me and Alex," Tim answered, his voice full of fury and contempt. "You've got nothing to do with us. Get out of here and let us talk."
Zach pushed down his own feelings of anger. To lose control now was to lose the woman he loved. "I may not have anything to do with you, but Alex is everything to me. You've always treated her like garbage. She told me she loved you, and even though I think you're little better than shit on my boot, I never tried to get between you two. But now, you've screwed up. Take it like a man. Eff off and get out. She doesn't love you anymore."
Alex hissed in a breath. "Don't you speak for me. You don't even trust me." Her topaz eyes glittered with yellow fire. "You weren't speaking to me the last time I saw you. Now you're saying I'm everything to you?"
"I never said you weren't everything to me. I just needed to calm down after hearing you tell your editor I was your boy toy."
"I told her you weren't my boy toy! And how did you hear that?"
"Your mike was on. But it doesn't matter. Carla told me you told her I wasn't anyone's toy, least of all yours. You stuck up for me, Alex."
"You should have realized you're more than just a pretty face to me. Like right now, when you're mostly a stupid jerk."
Zach bit his lip to keep from smiling. "You're right. I am a stupid jerk. One who loves you, Alex Taylor. That's why I'm here right now."
Alex bit back the scream that hovered behind her lips and thought about banging her head against the wall instead. She rubbed her palm over her forehead. "I can't believe this is happening," she muttered, then lifted her head to glare at the two men standing in spread-legged, arms-over-chest, macho postures. They reminded her of roosters.
Without the feathers.
"I love you more," Tim said, holding up the jewel's box. "I've got the ring to prove it."
"Ring, schming. You're also sleeping with your assistant." Zach rounded on him. "You think a shiny piece of bling is going to buy you forgiveness? That's your problem, Tim. You're all about cash and splash, but you've got no substance."
"At least I've got the cash. What have you got? Good looks and nothing else." Tim made a face that resembled a snarl.
Alex put her hands on her hips. "All right, boys. That's enough."
Zach turned back to her. "Look, Al. I admit it. I fucked up. But I'm here, and right now the only thing that matters to me is stopping you from making a huge mistake. Whether or not it's me you're with isn't the point. What is the point is that you do what's right for you. That's what I want for you." He closed his eyes and scrubbed his hand over his eyes. Then he exhaled, pushed his hat back, and gave her a sexy half smirk. "Remember what I said, Miz Scarlett. You need to be with someone who appreciates you for who you are, not for who they think you should be." He reached out, cupped her chin in his palm, and brushed his thumb over her cheek. "And for the record, you are not boring. You do not suck in bed. You are amazing. Don't ever forget that."
Tears filled Alex's eyes and spilled down her cheeks; he swiped them away. "You would call me, Alex, and tell me how unhappy you were. All the time he spent out with his friends and traveling for work. How you wished you could leave him but couldn't afford to... And do you really believe that this was the first time he'd slept with his assistant? It was just the first time you caught them."
"That's not true!" Tim said, pushing his hand through his hair. "Tiffany and I never went to bed together before. And it sounds like you slept together just like I expected, so we're even now."
Even? As if sleeping with someone else was like playing a game of tennis? The ball's in your bed! Alex choked on a laugh; it sounded like a sob.
Zach gently turned her face toward his again. "You write that book, Alex. The one we worked on together. You'll be able to follow your dreams. Whether we're together or not doesn't matter. What matters is that you are happy. You're not going to be happy with him. You know that. Please. Take care of yourself. You deserve that. Be happy, in your little yellow farmhouse."
"What farmhouse?" Tim interrupted.
"My farmhouse. The one I'm going to buy with my advance," Alex murmured, her eyes still locked on Zach's.
He smiled. "The one you wouldn't stop talking about. With the big porch and the windows overlooking the White Mountains and that field with the red barn. And the apple orchard we couldn't see because of the snow."
"The White Mountains? That's in New Hampshire. I can't live in New Hampshire. I work in Rhode Island." Tim frowned. "What about a nice beach house, Al? We like the beach."
"He doesn't even know. See, Al? You told me you'd told him all about it---he doesn't even remember. And he doesn't care. You're nothing but a convenience for him, just as much as he makes things easy for you. You do laundry. You cook. You clean. That's not love. That's a habit. Do you want to spend the rest of your life being someone's habit?"
She shook her head. He was right. Tim took her for granted and made her feel like a servant half the time.
"And the thing is, you don't ask questions about why he's ignoring you or what he's doing or who he's with, because you're in your own writing world and don't pay attention, sometimes. He knows that. He takes advantage of that. But he never joins you. He never enters your world with you..." Zach's calm voice washed over her. She looked at him. "But I do. Miz Scarlett."
"Who the hell is Miz Scarlett? Look, Al, I drove all the way down here. It took me six hours. I don't need this crap. Tell him to leave." He took the box out of his pocket again and opened it, waving it in her face. "I bought you a ring. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"
"Yeah. And I have...this." Zach reached into his back pocket and held up a card; a nude couple stood entwined on its face. Zach turned it around in his fingers. She tried to read the words printed on it, but he hid them with his thumb. "It's the one I said you weren't ready for."
"A playing card." Tim made a disgusted noise. "I bought a one-and-a-half-carat diamond. In a platinum setting."
Zach turned the card over so she could see the words on it; he read them aloud, too. "Tell your partner exactly how you feel about him or her." He got down on one knee and took her hand in his. It felt good and right.
She swallowed back the tears of joy that rose in her throat and made everything sparkle. "Zach..." she whispered.
"Wait a minute..." Tim said. "What are you doing?"
"Miz Scarlett, come away with me. We'll live on your plantation in New Hampshire."
"There aren't any plantations in New Hampshire!" Tim protested.
"We'll be happy. You'll write your books, I'll teach my kids and rescue my horses, and we'll make love every night in my Olympic-sized tub...say yes, Miz Scarlett. Let me take you away from this life of sadness. Be the woman you're meant to be. My woman. My heart."
Alex couldn't believe she'd been so blind to the truth, and to her own needs. She'd been nothing more than Tim's convenience, and his whore. But not anymore. Her hero was here, to rescue her.
Alex turned to the man she'd once thought she'd marry. "Tim, I loved you. But you broke my heart. Living with you was like living in a gilded cage." She gave Zach a wink. "I felt...soiled. I could never marry you and be happy. Zach's right." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. Please leave."
Zach stood, lifted her into a bear hug, and buried his face in her neck; his breath brushed her skin like a caress. "I love you, Alex Taylor."
"I can't believe this. I drove all the way down here... I'm the one with the ring. What's he got? Nothing! You're only accepting his offer because he's better-looking than I am!" Tim shouted.
Alex leaned back in Zach's arms and gazed into his eyes; she realized suddenly that the love she saw shining in them had always been there. She just hadn't been paying attention. "No, Tim. I'm accepting his offer because I can see into his heart---and it's like looking at a piece of my soul."
"Oh, this is stupid. You know what? I don't need you. I've got Tiffany! She'll take this ring. She picked it out, anyway." With that, Tim turned and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
"He is such an asshole," Zach muttered.
Alex couldn't stop the giggle that bubbled out of her. She didn't want to. She'd never felt so happy. "Did that card really say that?"
"Why? Did you want it to say something else?" He loosened his grip and she slid all the way down his warm, hard body in a sensuous rub that made her nipples harden and her pussy swell.
"As a matter of fact..." she grinned and slid down over his legs until she knelt on the floor in front of him. She reached for his belt buckle. "I want it to say, 'treat your best friend's p-e-n-i-s like a lollipop.'"
Zach tangled his fingers in her hair as she undid his jeans and pushed them down to his ankles. Beneath his black silk briefs, his dick lengthened until the head rose over the waistband, pressing against his stomach. She slid the tip of her tongue over it, cupping his silk-clad balls in her palm. Zach groaned, bent, and pulled her to her feet.
"I need you," he said. "I need to be inside you."
She let him push her back onto the bed; with deft hands, he stripped off her clothes until she was bare to his gaze. Without waiting, he loomed over her and slid his stiff cock into her pussy. She sighed with pleasure as he filled her.
He paused, an almost frightened look in his sky-blue eyes. "You didn't want to marry Tim, did you?"
Alex grinned as she realized what his fright meant. She couldn't help but tease him, though. "You're inside me and you're asking this?"
He shrugged above her. She loved that he could have any woman in the world, yet it was her he wanted---and that he was afraid she wouldn't want him. She reached up and twined her fingers in his hair, pushing his face close to hers. Alex reached up to kiss him on the cheek.
"I realized, if I married Tim, I'd never be able to make love to you again...and I couldn't bear that. I need you, Zachary Michael O'Connor. In my life. As my best friend---and my lover. I love you."
He grinned, then. She was amazed to feel him grow inside her body, swelling before he began the slow, sensuous thrusts that matched him, word for word. "I love you, too. I think...it's...in...the...cards." He gave a final, deep plunging push and Alex crested into another sparkling white orgasm. She cried out with a husky moan; Zach joined her with a hoarse shout. He trembled and then collapsed on top of her. "Miz Scarlett," he panted, "I think I owe you extra."
"That's okay, Rhett," she answered. "This one's on the house. Our house. The one we'll buy with the money I make on the book we'll write together."
He kissed her throat and rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. "And we'll live happily ever after."
She rested her chin on his chest and stroked his cheek with her fingers. "Of course. I'm a romance writer, after all. And you are my hero."
He took her hand in his and kissed her fingertips. "The end."
Biography
A trapped-at-home mom of three, freelance fiction editor and romance writer, Cynthia Selwyn has been married to the same man for seventeen years. If there's anything she knows about relationships, it's that humor can keep the love alive (or at least on life-support).
Cynthia started writing at the age of six and has been writing since then. After many rejections, she finally earned a contract with The Wild Rose Press with Kissing Trick, (written as C.D. Yates) and is now writing exclusively for Breathless Press, where she hopes to earn enough money in royalties to support her coffee habit. Her goal with each book is to bring a smile to her readers' faces and love to their hearts, by writing a sexy story with a touch of magic.
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