Chapter 8
Blake
I watched her leave and admired her caboose and those legs the entire way. Those legs. I’ve always been a sucker for legs. That was when it hit me what I’d done. I had just moved a woman into my house.
“Sweet Jesus,” I said to myself and got up grab my cell. I called the woman back at the Cattlemen’s, just in case Silver forgot her promise. “The article is pulled and my only comment is this—publish that and I’ll call a few friends you happen to work for,” I said briefly and tapped the phone off.
Satisfied that I’d put out the most immediate fire, I settled onto the sofa and flipped on the television to watch a rodeo being held in Denver. I knew most of the guys and even more of the animals they rode. When the bull riders came on, I could feel the muscles in my gut tighten and even felt a little dizzy. I didn’t like that and flipped the channel to an old John Wayne western.
I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I smelled was food cooking. I stretched and got up to go into the kitchen. There was Silver, a little apron around her waist standing with her back to me as she cooked at the stove. I don’t think she heard me come in over the sizzling and from my vantage I could see strips of beef and peppers with onions. My nose confirmed this and my stomach grumbled.
“Need any help?” I asked and moved closer, leaning over her shoulder to snatch a strip of beef out of the skillet and pop it into my mouth. She slapped my hand.
“Get out of there, especially when you haven’t washed your hands. You men are all alike. Go wash and you might consider putting a razor to that face and I’ll meet you at the table in five minutes.”
“Jesus, but you’re bossy. I wish I’d known that before I hired you.”
“Yeah? Well, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet!” she snapped and her ass leaned into me as she bent to grab a serving spoon from the drawer. Jesus, this was going to be harder than I realized, in more ways than one.
Five minutes later I walked into the dining area and saw she had two place settings at the big oak table. There were plates and even damned cloth napkins. Where did she get those? I wondered. I sat down and she carried in two plates. Mine was heaped and it smelled damned good. She set hers on the table and went back to the kitchen, reappearing with two goblets of wine and a basket of crusty bread. I could get used to this, I thought to myself.
Just as I expected, the food was great and the company, even better. I was pleased to discover that Silver had a wit that came close to mine and she entertained me with stories of what it was like to live in the city. I did my part and told her some about country living, liberally covered with southern bullshit. She fell for the first few and then just smiled as I kept going.
When plates were empty, she handed me a filled goblet and motioned me toward the living area while she picked up the plates and went in to put them in the dishwasher. She joined me afterwards and we strategized our approach for my reputation.
“Do you have a website, just for yourself?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Well, you will, now. It’s your office on the Internet and we’ll build your fan club and list schedules of your appearances, etc. It will also give me a platform to talk about the challenges of the business. I will need plenty of pictures.”
“What kind of pictures?”
“Oh, you know. Beefcake pictures for the ladies, riding pictures for the guys. We’ll do some public appearances like having you volunteer with underprivileged kids and ribbon-cutting, that sort of thing. We’ll raise your image.”
“Jesus, Silver, is all that really necessary?”
“Just think of all those bottles of whiskey, the nights in jail, and the women you almost got pregnant and you’ll soon see that by comparison, you’ve got a lot of reputation raising to do. I’m going to bed now. You sit there and think of ideas that will appeal to Texans. I really never expected to live here when I was in college, so I’m not too prepared for it. As for me, I bought a suit while I was in town and a midnight swim sounds awfully good right now. Night.”
“Night, Silver.”
She left and it was like someone stole the air out of the room. I slid open the door and went out to the patio, took a chair in the shadows and lit a cigarette. It wasn’t too long before I saw Silver slip out her door and head toward the pool. The underwater light was on a timer and was waiting for her. As I watched, her silhouette moved with the grace of a yearling: all legs and anticipation. She touched the water with her toe and squealed a tiny bit. Jesus but she’s gorgeous, I thought. Her legs rose high in her bikini and her breasts were full and overflowed the top. She stood at the edge for just a moment, and then with one, clean movement, dove in and knifed the water, barely leaving a ripple.
I watched as her nymph-like figure swam at the bottom, undulating and arching as she let her muscles work themselves out. The turquoise of the pool provided the perfect background for her silver hair that flowed behind her like lightning bolts, reflecting the underwater light. I held my breath until she surfaced, treading water only momentarily before she leveled out into long, graceful strokes through the glittering water. She swam a half dozen laps and then climbed out and dove from the diving board, pulling a perfect swan.
My cigarette had burned down as I watched and the ashes singed my finger. I dropped it and cursed, which she heard. Silver froze like a deer and looked toward me. She knew I was watching and I suspected she knew it from the moment she came out of the house. Not much got past her. To save face, she stroked to the ladder, climbed out and picked up her towel from a pool chair. She stood stock still, looking at me, and then with the art of a strip tease dancer, slowly bent from the waist to dry her long legs, spreading them slightly to get to all the spots I was dying to kiss.
The towel went north and down into the valley between her breasts, her hands sliding it down to dry her nipples I could see were cool and budded fully. I was so hard I thought I would lose it right then and there. I couldn’t stand it a moment more.
I got up and in two movements, slid off my jeans, boots and shirt. I began to walk toward her, slowly, to see what she would do. She didn’t flinch, but stood there watching me. I came up to her, standing there in full, throbbing glory and wanted to throw her down on the pool chair and take her then and there. I wouldn’t, though. Silver was special; she deserved to be treated like a queen and not a bar room whore. Her chin lifted with nobility and she stared me down. This was a woman I wanted; she had guts and dignity. She would stand up to anything or anyone. For this night, at least, she was standing up to me. She knew what I wanted and dared me to take it, knowing that if I did, it would make her like all the others. She was taunting me and she could visibly see the result of her efforts. I was completely erect and pointed straight at her. To tease me even further, she widened her stance, just enough that the point of seduction was arguable. I was beginning to lose it.
“This enough cheesecake for you, Silver?” I asked her in a quiet tone and while she watched, I took the two steps between where I stood and the blue cold water that would be my undoing.
As I surfaced, I looked and she was gone. There was no evidence she’d ever been there. I looked toward her rooms and the windows were dark, the sliding door fastened. I didn’t need to check to know that it was locked.
She said I had bought a share of the devil with my past behavior and that I should spend time thinking how I could make amends. She anticipated this would happen; that she-devil of a temptress. I believe in that moment of regret I may have paid for a month’s worth of transgressions.
Now the only question that remained was whether my life, from that point on would continue to be hell, or whether the she-devil would, at some point, mark my card clean and become mine.