Free Read Novels Online Home

Cowboy Confidential by Thorne, Gigi (6)

6

Wyn paced the walkway in front of the bunkhouse and watched the sun start to set. Where the hell was she?

He rechecked his watch and kept pacing. Finally, he caught a faint sound on the breeze and peered into the woods. Before long, he saw a pair of headlights bouncing around as a vehicle drove the bumpy access lane.

Sami.

She pulled her shiny blue truck next to his and switched off the lights. He was at the driver’s door to help her out when she turned the key, and the engine stopped.

He felt like a teenager on a first date.

“Hi.” He checked her out from head to toe. “You’re beautiful.”

She was wearing a summer dress that hugged her tits and swirled around her thighs. The heart-stoppingly sexy heels had strappy things wrapped around her ankles and made him think a dozen dirty thoughts.

“Oh, Wyn. Don’t you look handsome?”

Did he? He shrugged. White shirt, black jeans, nice boots, cool belt buckle – his best and only sartorial move. Although he had shaved the scruff off his face and managed to tame his hat hair.

“Are we going to prom?” She giggled.

Every worry he had, every speck in every shadowy corner of his heart and mind faced imminent defeat the minute Sami Colton came home. Her husky giggle gave all his doubts a hefty boot kick to the curb.

He learned two important things from her cowboy confidential diary. First, that she never stopped loving him, and second, that she was easily hurt by his attitude. His granddad used to say that ’tude was a man’s worst enemy when it came to the ladies. Too much and they called you an asshole – too little and they passed you by. Wyn wanted to add a third category – angry ’tude. That particular ’tude was a dead end and should be avoided at all costs.

“Nah.” He chuckled. “Got something way better than a homeschool prom. Come on,” he said as he took her hand. “Check it out.”

She took two steps and nearly face-planted. Sexy heels and rough ground weren’t meant to be friends.

He caught her right away and swung her into his arms. She laughed and cracked bad jokes as he marched her to the bunkhouse door.

“Now this is what I call excellent valet service.” She giggled and kept going. “In LA, they’d call this grubbing for tips.”

The grin on his face extended into his soul. He put her down and made a production out of smoothing down her dress. She smacked his hands away when they started an exploratory mapping of her thighs. The part of him that wanted to ask what she wore for underwear accepted being sidelined and melted to silence. Now wasn’t the time.

He pushed open the door with a flourish, said, “Voilà,” and stood aside to let her enter. The soft gasp when she got her first look told him he’d done okay.

“Wyn!” She sighed. “This is fantastic.”

Yeah, it is, he thought as his eyes swept the room. Candles in glasses and Mason jars were scattered everywhere. The flickering lights gave the cabin a romantic feel. In the reconstructed hearth, a small fire crackled and popped. The table was set for two using his mom’s funky stoneware.

He saw her glance at the futon bed. He made damn sure to put it in its sofa configuration and even added some throw pillows. This wasn’t about sex, and he wanted her to know that going in.

Waaiit a minute,” she murmured. A cute sniff followed by a pause, and then she was pounding on his chest with her palms and excitedly hopping up and down.

“I smell Italian! Is that what I think it is?”

She rushed to the stove, but he jumped into her path. “Nope, nope! Chill your pretty tits.”

Without missing a beat, she grabbed her tits and jostled them. “They are nice, aren’t they? All natural. No modification, thank you very much.”

She looked around some more, squealed, “Ooh! Onion dip,” and then zeroed in on a dish of old-school potato chips and dip. “Areweonadate?”

“Huh?” He couldn’t decipher her words while her mouth was stuffed with dip.

“I said” – she smirked after some mouth wiping – “are we. On. A date?”

“Well, yeah.” He snorted with a wave at the effort he put out. “I don’t do this shit on the regular.”

Sami’s outrageous laugh – the one that he heard in his dreams, the one he thought was forever gone from his life – filled the old bunkhouse.

She rocked her sweet hips on a quick dash to the refrigerator. “Is there wine?”

He all but tackled her to the floor to keep her from opening the refrigerator. The fancy silver bucket thing his mom provided was on the shelf with a very expensive bottle of champagne tucked inside. Champagne wasn’t an everyday thing so … no peeking.

“There’s clearly a script that I haven’t read, so why don’t you tell me what part I’m playing.”

She asked this question with chick-snark hanging on every word. Sami did awesome chick-snark. He tried for stern but ended up laughing. “How ’bout you sit your pretty ass down and give a guy a chance. Jesus, Sami. I’m trying to fix things, and you’re not helping.”

Oh man! She totally let him know she wasn’t a teenager anymore by making an entire production out of strutting on those killer heels up to a seat, bending provocatively from the waist – while flashing her panties – brushing unseen dust off the chair, and then lowering into a cross-legged pose best described as the Queen meets Hooker Hannah. Royal wave, naughty lip bite, and all.

Her “I’m going to eat you alive” facial expression turned him inside out. She was the perfect combination of sweet and dirty – just the way he liked it.

Now that she was in one place and not able to cause trouble, he offered her a glass of wine from a bottle of Chianti that Mom insisted was the only thing to drink with the meal she threw together.

Sami eyed it as though he was pouring arsenic. He seriously wished throwing her on the floor for a hard fuck was in the realm of possibility for the evening’s activities. However, the box burning a hole in his pocket stopped him from being a dick.

He reviewed his options and went with sweet-talking. She played along.

They had a perfectly lovely, civilized, grown-up discussion about the auction, helicopters, why Burke never seemed to grow up, and the winter weather prediction from an old almanac the ranchers swore by.

It wasn’t them. Lovely, civilized and grown-up kept the peace but didn’t move the ball downfield. Wyn was at the stove, getting ready to plate their dinners when she walked up from behind and rather boldly palmed his butt.

He told her to behave. She pouted and informed him with an indignant sounding sniff that he was no fun.

Wyn didn’t know everything in life, but where Sami was concerned, there was a thing about her that he knew quite well. She was a bitch when she was hungry, and the best way to affect an attitude adjustment was by feeding her – so he did.

She put away an entire plate with no effort.

“Your mom is the best cook,” she purred. “She’s gonna have to show me how she makes this. What’s it called?”

He felt waves of emotion coming from her, and the look in her eyes bounced back and forth between innocent seduction and heart-melting tenderness. Ten painful years faded to nothing. The love they shared was too strong for any barrier – real or imagined.

“Dad calls ’em stronzate. It’s a made-up name in Italian that I believe roughly translates to shit turds.”

She lost it with laughter, so he did his best mom-in-the-kitchen comedy routine.

“I mean, come on. He’s right. A strip of beef, stuffed, rolled, and tied with string does look like horse droppings. Swimming in a bubbling pot of Mom’s Italian gravy for a couple of hours makes ’em all gooey and tender.”

“Ew! Gooey!” she shrieked.

It went downhill from there. The flood-burst of hilarity ushered in an evening of absolute perfection. They ate, drank, laughed, and ate some more. He told her about Burke getting banned at the Vegas casino. She asked if he wore the cowboy hat on his head or his wang. He nearly died laughing at her choice of words.

“Are we okay, Sami?” he asked when the moment seemed right.

“Yes, Wyn. We’re okay.”

“We fucked this up pretty good, huh?”

“We did, indeed,” she agreed.

“Look, I know we haven’t talked about the past – there will be plenty of time for that later – but right now, it’s just you and me. Right?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

Answer enough.

They were on the loveseat by the fireplace. He saw the opening and took it.

Moving off the cushion, he slid onto his knee next to her and pulled the box from his pocket.

“Oh god. What’s happening?” she mumbled.

“Cut to the chase, Sami. I love you. I always have. It’s only ever been you. Will you marry me?”

He cracked open the lid and wondered if the sound effect was unique to engagement ring boxes.

The only sound in the room after that was the crackling fire and Sami’s excited panting. He was sure a home run was arcing over the backfield fence until she jumped up and stomped her foot. How they went from laughing to her with her hands slapped to her hips, blazing eyes, and an angry foot stomp?

“I can’t believe you, Wyn! You’re messing up my big finish!”

What was she talking about? He knelt there with the stupid box open and held up in offering as she ranted and raved like a crazy person.

“You have no idea what I’ve been through to pull this off.” She threw her hands up and glared at him. “I picked outfits, twice! And don’t get me started about how hard it was to talk April into taking pictures.”

And then she looked like she might cry.

“I had it all planned, Wyn. And it’s perfect. Don’t you see?”

Okay. This had to be an alternate universe or something. He closed the ring box and put it back in his pocket. He wondered which of them was going to give in to the tears first.

All of a sudden, a racket outside exploded in the natural silence. In seconds, he realized what it was and groaned, “Ah, shit.”

Sami looked stunned. “What is that?”

“It’s Burke. Shit. What the fuck is he doing here?”

He went to the door, opened it, and stepped into the darkness as his brother’s modified Hummer approached. The damn thing sounded like a tank, and in true asshole style, he had the bass thumping sound system pegged to concert level. AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” filled the air.

What a dick.

Sami stood in the doorway, the flickering candlelight and glowing fire backlighting her with achingly beautiful perfection.

“Be nice,” she scolded.

He looked at her and rolled his eyes. “Seriously?” He snarled. “You do remember that we were having a serious moment until this shithead showed up. Nice is asking too much.”

“Wyn.”

This time, her tone was a warning. Goddammit! He gritted his teeth and gave Burke’s penis envy vehicle a malevolent glare.

Like the asshole he was, his little brother drove the Hummer straight at him and stopped about three feet from where Wyn stood. The blaring music was part of whatever statement the dumbass was trying to make.

Thank god he switched it off before climbing down from the vehicle.

“Hey, Sami. Looking good!” Burke flashed her a thumbs-up and a wink.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Wyn snarled. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

Burke smacked him on the arm as he blew right past and made a beeline for Sami.

“Did he tell you how he turned green and reached for the vomit bag?”

She laughed but halted Burke’s incursion by not budging from the doorway. Yeah, Sami Colton was a very good girl.

“He’s always hated flying,” she said with dry sarcasm.

What she said was true. As far off the ground as he ever wanted to go was saddle height. That was when the jokes started. The ones with him as the butt.

“Hey, remember when you tossed your cookies when we flew to Disneyland? God, that was funny. Mom couldn’t stop laughing.”

He was at the end of his rope by then and just stood there, arms crossed, glaring at his interfering brother. What the hell was he up to?

Looking back and forth, Burke eyeballed Sami and then turned a critical eye on him. Wyn could feel the in-depth perusal. Sensing the shift in mood, he straightened and looked at Sami. She gave him that expression that asked what the hell was up.

“Wyn’s on a no-fly list. Did you know? I think Scotland Yard keeps his picture in a file.”

“Burke,” he snapped. “I will fucking kick your ass if you say another word.”

Sami was chuckling. “What? Why would Scotland Yard have Wyn in their sights? He’s joking, right?”

She pinned him with a look. He felt all the color drain out of his face. He was going to kill Burke for forcing this issue before he was ready to get into it.

* * *

The subtext in everything Burke said made Sami wary. She liked Wyn’s little brother, but the guy was a gigantic piece of work who went overboard at times in his constant desire to get one over on his big brother.

This looked like one of those times.

“It’s a great story,” he drawled. “The family lawyer has it memorized.”

Her eyes swung to Wyn. He looked like a statue standing rigid and unmoving in the darkness. His fists were clenched and at his sides. You couldn’t see it, but she sensed the danger as if he was coiled and ready to strike at any second.

Oh, Burke, she thought. What are you doing?

Sniggering with obnoxious delight, he pointed at his brother. “Tell her about the pub waitress who smacked your face.” Burke didn’t stop there. “But the real fun started at the airport. Waiting for a connecting flight.”

None of this made any sense, but Wyn’s stoic silence told her Burke was telling the truth – in his own, demented way.

She should have kept quiet, but she needed at least a sliver of clarity. “Why was Scotland Yard at the airport?”

“That’s the best part!” Burke yowled with sarcastic glee. “He was at Heathrow waiting to board an international flight. Drank his way across Europe. The layover before flying to New York tipped him over. The security cameras caught it all. He got cowboy mouthy with some Brit, and next thing ya’ know, punches are flying in the airport lounge.”

“Why were you in London?” She asked the question in a whisper – afraid of what his answer would be.

Burke, the dick, answered for his brother. “It’s the jumping out point in Europe. Let’s see. The itinerary was from Rome to London to JFK to Cody, and then after that, Dad was so mad, he didn’t care how he got home.”

She swayed and grabbed the door for an anchor. “When?”

“That’s enough, Burke.”

Wyn rushed his brother and manhandled him right up to the point of knocking him out. He pushed and shoved and blocked him with his more significant body until Burke gave in and got back in the Hummer.

Confused and scared what all this meant, she rushed forward as Burke’s vehicle drove away. After four or five awkward steps on the uneven dirt, she went pitching forward with her arms flailing on her way to the ground.

He caught her at the last second.

“Wyn” she cried. “What happened? Is it bad? Tell me, please.”

He skillfully lowered them until he was sitting on the grass with her on his lap. He stroked her air and gave a heavy sigh.

“I’ll spare us a glimpse at my thought process and state the facts. It’ll be easier. I flew to Rome when you were working on your first movie. I was so proud of you and the way you were handling the crazy train ride to fame. Had some wild ideas about a future. I wasn’t even out of the airport before I saw you. Well, pictures of you. The European paparazzi dominate the tabloids, and everywhere I looked there was you and that Jasper Davis asshole swimming in a fountain. As if that wasn’t enough to freak me out, when I went to your hotel, I walked in on a press frenzy. Camera flashes filled the lobby – you were there with the rest of the cast but that fuckstick Davis had his hands on you. It was too much.”

“Oh god. I’m so sorry. Is that why you pulled away? Because you thought I wasn’t honest? Or faithful?”

“I didn’t know what to think. On the phone, you were miserable and unhappy – unsure of yourself. But when I rode in to save the day, I found my half-naked girlfriend making a spectacle in a Rome fountain. And then that photo call, shit Sami. You two looked all chummy, and the press was yelling questions about a romance. What was I supposed to do? If I’d stepped forward then, I'd be forever labeled the cowboy shmuck because people had already decided you and Davis were doing it. Started drowning my sorrows that night and kept it up for a year. He’s exaggerating about Scotland Yard but not about the watch list. By the time I dragged my sorry butt home, everyone for a zillion mile radius had seen those pictures. Poor Wyn. That’s who I was.”

It was painful to hear his hurt, but she was glad that now she knew. Snuggling into him, they sat in silence on the ground. She knew he didn’t need or expect an explanation. He’d already made peace with the past, but she had to be honest about her part of it.

“I was young, stupid, and cut off from my support system. The unhappiness you heard was real. Every minute of every day was baffling. I’d sit on the internet at night and search for words and phrases used on a movie set just so I’d know what everyone was talking about.”

She sat straight and made him look at her. “It’s part of that world that everything is about publicity. From the second I signed on, there was an expectation that I’d fit the mold. Jasper was and is a dick. The fountain pictures were a stunt to entertain the paparazzi. I never once thought about how it would play back home. For that, I’m sorry.”

“My pride got dinged. You did nothing wrong, honey. I should have talked to you, and I’m sorrier than you know that I didn't. But you know what that tells me?”

She shook her head.

“It tells me that I wasn’t man enough to be a husband back then.”

“Wait, what? Husband? You said nothing about a wedding.”

He rubbed her arms and made a face. “Yeah, well, had my granny’s ring in my pocket and some crazy idea about asking you to marry me.”

“Was that your grandmother’s ring just now?”

“Uh, no.”

“Well, why the fuck not?”

He looked at her like she was crazy, and maybe she was.

“Next time you ball up and ask, mister, I expect your grandmother’s ring. Don’t be coming at me with anything fancy. I’m a country girl, and we don’t have time to clean jewelry.”

She enjoyed his astonished and befuddled expression. It played nicely into her plan.

“Make love to me under the stars, Wyn. Let’s do it like we used to. Rolling around in the grass while the heavens keep watch.”

“What about my proposal?”

Well, goddamn! It actually was possible for a cowboy alpha to sound miffed and pissy.

“You hold that thought, baby.” She kissed him sweetly. “We’ll circle back and do the do-si-do. Now, about the lovemaking.”

He squinted and studied her face. She smiled, blew kisses, and wiggled on his groin.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with you?” he growled in a good-natured and hot as fuck way.

“Hopefully, whatever you decide will include face down and ass up nice and high – the way you like it.”

His deep chuckle wrapped around her emotions and squeezed. “Well, aren’t you just the most accommodating good girl?”

“Bwah!” She laughed and thumped his chest. “You’re never gonna let me forget that, are you?”

“Good god, no. That one is platinum.”

She grinned. “Wyn?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for coming after me – even if it didn’t work out at the time.”

“You’re mine, Sami. Forever.”

She took her good ole time wriggling off his lap and standing right in front of his face. Then she turned around, lifted her dress, and shimmied out of her panties. He gave her exposed butt a hefty swat.

Whipping the flirty dress over her head, she stood buck naked save for the pair of wicked, fuck-me-now heels.

He was already unbuttoning his shirt. “Will there be preliminaries, or is this a command performance?”

The night air and darkness made her feel extra wicked. Now that she was assured of his feelings and emotion was back on the agenda, she had no problem getting kinky.

Straddling him where he sat, she stood over him and bucked her mound at his face. Reaching for his hand, she guided it between her legs. “Why don’t you check my pussy. See if I’m ready.”

His leering grin triggered a surge of arousal that greeted his fingers as he tested her readiness.

Cupping her boobs, she undulated on his fingers and growled her pleasure with her head thrown back.

Losing herself momentarily in the pleasure his fingers gave, she jolted back to awareness when she realized he was moving around.

“The damn boots have to go,” he snarled.

“Ooh, let me,” she cooed.

He stopped teasing her pussy and laughed when she flipped around and bent over to yank off his boots. Her ass was literally in his face. She was tugging off the boots as he caressed her butt.

“Maybe on our honeymoon we can see how much your ass can take of my cock.”

She had to giggle. “Will there be cherry soda and cherry pie?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of tying you up.”

Her immediate reaction was excited anticipation. A surprise. “I’ve never, but with you, I can see it being hot.”

“Good.” He chuckled. “Then it’s settled. Fucking your ass on our honeymoon.”

“You are such a romantic,” she teased.

“Excuse me, wench, but you just shit all over my romantic approach. Now you get the dirty words without the fancy topping.”

When his boots and socks were off, she demanded he stand to make releasing the wildebeest easier.

He dropped his jeans in record time. She dropped to her knees also as fast. Before she touched him, she gave him a seductive look and asked permission. Wyn enjoyed being the man – catering to his macho needs was her pleasure.

“May I taste?”

“Yes, you may,” he growled. The lusty vibe he put off turned her on big time.

He watched her with an intensity that made her whole body throb. Stroking the length of his gorgeous cock, she found his appeal devastating. Her insides pulsed with growing excitement.

“How much can I get away with?” he asked.

“Do you love me?”

“Yes. Completely.”

She liked his answer. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

His reaction made her insides melt to hot goo. He grabbed her hair and fisted on the back of her head. It was an aggressive move, a challenge, which she found hard to resist.

“Suck me, girl. Gagging optional but extra credit if you’re up to it.”

Aw! He had such a way with words.

Her tongue went wild. So did her hands. She licked his balls and took him deep into her mouth. When he took hold of her head and used her mouth to fuck his cock, she whimpered and moaned.

He let her have some fun, and then he stopped her. “On your knees, Sami. You know what I want. Arch that ass and hold on tight.”

He moved his white shirt on the ground, so she had something to land on. A little late, considering she’d been on her knees this whole time, but she appreciated the thought.

Dropping onto all fours, she wiggled into doggie position and arched high. Wyn pushed her knees farther apart. His rough, demanding touch made her pussy flood.

She felt him move in from behind. Knowing he was preparing to mount her made Sami quiver with need.

He parted her pussy lips and lined up his cock. She loved the moment right before he entered when her whole being throbbed with delicious anticipation.

One hand moved to her ass. He caressed her there and then held her hip. His cock nudged her opening. She moaned and arched into him, demanding he take her. Now.

With both hands holding her hips, he thrust – hard. She cried out into the night sky. He grunted, and his fat cock filled her completely.

Wyn Thomas fucked her with righteous fury – declaring his undying love and devotion with every stroke.

She begged for all he had and gave him everything.

Overtaken by the moon, the sky, the twinkling stars, and the sexy man hammering her pussy, she howled into the night like a mating she-wolf.

He fisted her hair, pulled on her head, and unleashed a blistering hot fuck that left her trembling and desperate.

Sinking deep, he increased the power of his fist in her hair, ground his cock in mind-blowing circles, and then all movement stopped.

She moaned. He laughed.

“Come for me, good girl.”

She responded to his demand and surrendered to a stunning orgasm that shook her body and emptied her mind.

The words, “Hang on,” drifted on the air and then he fucked her until his cock exploded. She cried out each time he grunted. His cock pulsed, bathing her pussy with his essence.

It was wild, tempestuous, and a little bit raunchy, but this time, the love was there.