Chapter Four
Damn it all anyway.
Naturally Sidney had firmly positioned herself in the second trailer and Cody had to ride in the first trailer, because that was where the mic was and it was his job to give a running commentary for the tour of the ranch. At least, from his position behind Cade, who was driving, Cody could see her. It drove him nuts that she seemed to be smiling at Logan, and Logan—damn his hide—was smiling back. It made heat prickle on his nape.
He wasn’t sure what she was up to. Her flirting with Logan would ruin everything, especially if his friend took her up on her offers.
That thought made his gut roil even more.
Surely Logan wouldn’t take Sidney up on any offers. Would he?
Damn it. Maybe he should have told Logan what was really going on here. Just to be sure.
But Sidney knew. She knew! He’d told her point-blank Logan was the guy he’d brought in for Hanna. He’d told her explicitly.
Why, for God’s sake, was she talking to him?
He was so absorbed with staring at her, glaring at her, muttering to himself about her, he jumped in shock when a hand crept up his thigh. All the way up. Fingers closed on his cock.
His head whipped around and he gaped at the woman sitting next to him. She was beautiful, no doubt, and she smiled, an invitation that needed no words. She used them anyway. “Hi there, handsome,” she said in a gin-laced huff.
Awesome.
She was drunk off her ass.
But she’d have to be, wouldn’t she? To grab the nozzle of a man she’d never met?
It wasn’t the first time he’d been manhandled on the job. It was one of the dangers of his profession. And it wasn’t the first time it’d made him feel . . . skeezy. But it sure as shit was the first time he’d had no interest whatsoever.
How could he?
Sidney was in his line of sight.
No other woman existed.
He forced a smile and removed her hand. “Sorry ma’am,” he said in a casual tone. “I’m not on the menu.” He shot a speaking glance at Big Juan, who nodded and made his way over to take charge of the horny woman.
Unfortunately, another moved in to take her place. This one was even more aggressive.
What was it about these women? Didn’t they understand that he wasn’t one of the dancers? He was not up for grabs? Literally. Not. Up. For. Grabs.
Sadly, they all had grabby hands.
In the end, Cody had to retreat onto the tractor at Cade’s side. It was awkward and uncomfortable, perching on the foot hold and clinging to the bar while juggling the mic, but it was worth it to be able to watch Sidney and Logan without any distractions.
He refused to think of it as running away from the horde. It was simply a much better vantage point.
He only almost fell off twice.
***
Sidney had a blast on the hayride.
First of all, she got to know Logan a little better, even though he wasn’t much of a talker—and, damn, she liked him. He would be perfect for Hanna. Even Sidney, as self-absorbed as she was, could tell there was scorching chemistry between the two of them.
She was, all in all, very pleased with Cody’s choice. It looked as though Hanna would at least be tempted to think about another man, and that was really all Sidney could have asked for.
Given that, she decided she would give Cody his kiss.
He had earned it, after all.
Her decision had nothing to do with the coiling desire in her belly. It was simply the fact that they’d made an agreement, and since Cody had held up his end of the bargain, she should too.
She’d have to make sure it was somewhere public, and that she had toughened up her resolve and all that, but she couldn’t deny the thought of kissing him gave her a huge thrill. And, of course, scared her to death.
It only seemed logical to partake in a little liquid courage. Porsche had brought a bottle of tequila, so, between the hayride and the coming Hottie Hoedown, Sidney did a couple of shots.
Oh, not enough that she might lose her mind and motorboat Cody or anything, but enough that her feet felt light and her mood was elevated as she made her way down to the dining room for dinner.
It was nearly a letdown that he wasn’t there.
The dancers were there, milling with the women, and Cade was setting up the sound system, but of Cody there was no sign.
She knew he had to show up at some point, so she sucked in a deep breath and willed herself to be patient.
And when he did arrive, she would need to be super blasé. It was essential to remain so. She couldn’t allow herself to go and drool all over him the way the other women did. By God, she would never be one if his groupies. She’d give him his kiss and thank him for all he’d done and that would be that. The party would be over on Sunday. She’d go back to her boring life in Dallas and forget about him all over again. And everything would be wonderful.
“Where do you want to sit?” Hanna asked.
Sidney shot her a look. Her sister had been even more reserved than usual since she’d come back from a walk earlier; Sidney suspected she’d gone to meet Logan and if she had, that dreamy look in her eye was a good sign. “Anywhere’s fine.”
“Great. Let’s sit here.” She gestured to a table in the back of the room.
“You can’t sit in the back of the room. You’re the guest of honor,” Porsche insisted.
“Oh please.”
“I think she’s right,” Sidney said, and, taking Hanna’s arm, headed for the front of the room. Before they reached their table a hubbub arose. Sidney looked over her shoulder and saw the cause of it.
Cody Silver had arrived.
Like he was a fricking rock star or something. Most of the women milling around the room deserted their half-dressed hunks and swarmed him.
“Brother,” Porsche muttered.
Sidney nodded. “I think I’m gonna barf.”
“Not on the table, please,” Hanna said with crisp sarcasm. She excelled at crisp sarcasm. But then her smile faded and she paled. “Oh, shit.”
Sidney blinked. Hanna was usually the one to lecture other people about the use of profanities. Naturally, she had to turn and—
Oh, shit.
Tibby was heading their way like a heat-seeking missile.
It really had been a mistake to let her come. For one thing, she’d been hovering around Hanna like a mother hen. Or a Russian spy determined to discover the microfilm. Whatever.
If this thing between Hanna and Logan was going to have any chance at all, someone was going to have to distract Tibby.
And it wasn’t going to be her.
“I’ll be right back,” she said shooting her sister a quick smile, and then she did the one thing she swore she would never do.
She headed for Cody Silver. Just like all the other lemmings.
***
“Do you have a minute?” she asked, sending him a speaking glance.
He blinked and shot her a cocky grin. “Sure thing, sugar.”
All the other women groaned as he looped his arm around her waist and pulled her toward the stage.
She made it a point to step on his foot. With the point being her heel.
He winced. “Hey, what was that for?”
She glared at him. “Don’t call me sugar.”
“But you’re so sweet—”
She gored him again. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Right. “Shut up and listen. We have a problem.”
He stared at her. “We do?”
“Yes. It’s Tibby. She’s shadowing Hanna’s every move.” She gave him a meaningful look. One that said it all.
He blinked. “And?”
Honestly. Why were men so dense? “Someone is going to have to distract her.”
“Okay.” He nodded.
Silence pinged between them. A long enough silence that she realized . . . he didn’t get her point. Not at all. She was going to have to s-p-e-l-l it out. “You are going to have to distract her.”
He jerked back as though she’d suggested he cuddle up in smallpox-infected blankets. “Me?”
“Of course, you. No one else can distract her enough to make her abandon Hanna.”
“No. No way.”
“You have to.”
“No.”
“Cody—”
“I’m not throwing myself under that bus. It’s bad enough as it is.”
That threw her for a loop, so she asked, “What’s bad enough as it is?”
His expression was pained. He leaned in and whispered, “She’s stalking me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not. I swear!”
“Hey.” Cade clomped down the stairs from the stage and put his hands on his hips. “What’s the holdup? We need to get the party going.”
Cody stared at his brother, then he glanced at Sidney. Without words she understood his meaning and nodded. “He’ll do.”
Cade, no doubt familiar with his brother’s expressions, and his Machiavellian ways, stepped back and narrowed his eyes. “He’ll do for what?”
“Come on.” Cody threw his arm around his brother’s shoulders and led him back up the stairs. “I’ll explain everything.” He glanced back at Sidney and winked.
And she knew, just then, everything would be all right . . . even after Cade’s bellow of “No, hell no!” echoed throughout the room.
***
Whatever Cade and Cody had planned for Tibby didn’t play out at dinner. In fact, Sidney was horrified to discover that in Cody’s stupid little icebreaker—where each woman paired up with a hunk—Tibby had somehow snagged Logan as her partner. To his credit, he looked terrified. Hanna—saddled with one of the strippers—seemed equally consternated. Only Cody seemed blissfully unconcerned. Until he caught Sidney’s glare.
If Logan was in Tibby’s claws all night, Hanna might not even want him back—him being all shredded and fondled and molested and all.
Amy nudged her and held up a red disc. “I got Mr. Red. The hottie with all the tats.” She grinned. “Who’d you get?”
Cody’s brilliant idea was to have the men wear bandanas that matched the discs the ladies pulled from the velvet bag. Brilliant. Except Tibby picked Logan right off the bat.
“I got Mr. Green.” Sidney scanned the ballroom until she spotted him and then she sniffed. Mr. Green was cute, with short, sandy blond hair and sexy bedroom eyes, but Sidney had noticed him rubbing himself all over one of Tibby’s friends, which was a definite turnoff.
Aside from that, he was shorter than her and not half as cute as Cody.
But none of them were.
Mr. Green sauntered over with a wicked grin on his face, then pulled her onto her feet and into his arms. All she was aware of was his heat, the scent of sweat on his body, and a mild roil of distaste.
She was hardly a prude, but this dude was half naked and groping her. And she hardly knew him. Not her favorite scenario.
But Cody was watching.
Intently.
His glare was bilious.
So she decided to play along. Just to be contrary.
Throughout the evening, she made it a point to smile and flutter her lashes and let her hand linger on Mr. Green’s bare forearm. The forearm thing seemed to really ruffle Cody’s feathers, so she did it again and again.
After a while, he stormed over and barked, “Can I speak with you?”
Sidney smiled at him, because that was just what she wanted. Oh yeah, she had some things to say to him all right. “Sure.”
“Not you.” He bent down and whispered in Mr. Green’s ear and Mr. Green paled. His bulky arm eased from around her shoulders.
To her annoyance, Cody shot her a grim glower and pranced back to the stage.
Mr. Green, who had gone decidedly pale, shifted farther away and turned to her with a stiff grimace that might have been an attempt at a smile. “So,” he said. “I . . . Ah . . . What do you do for a living?”
“Me?” she asked, although it was obviously a rhetorical query. He didn’t give a shit what she did for a living. He just wanted to survive the night. And whatever Cody’d said to him had him quaking in his boots. “I’m in coffee.”
“Really?” His expression became more strained. “I, um, love coffee.”
Of course he did. Everyone did. But what any of them did for a living was way beyond the point. “Can I ask you a question?”
His eyes went wide. “Um, okay.”
“What did Cody say to you?”
The tips of Mr. Green’s ears went pink. “I . . . shouldn’t say.”
She leaned closer, set her hand on his thigh, and whispered into his ear, “But you will.”
He froze. A trickle of sweat beaded on his hairline. His eyes flicked wildly around the room.
“Well?”
“He told me to keep my distance or he’d break my kneecaps.”
Something swirled through her, she wasn’t sure if it was fury or some kind of bizarre delight. “Did he?”
Mr. Green’s Adam’s apple worked. “He, um, did.”
“Well, isn’t that special.” She couldn’t help but grin. “Will you excuse me for a moment?” she asked.
Mr. Green nearly collapsed in relief. “Sure.”
Sidney tossed her napkin onto the table. “I’ll be right back,” she said and headed for the stage.
***
Cody saw her coming and couldn’t still the trill of excitement in his gut. He ignored his brother’s smirk, but couldn’t help noticing that Cade gave her a wide berth. In fact, when she bounded up the stairs, Cade slipped off the stage altogether, giving the two of them a modicum of privacy. More when she took his arm and yanked him behind the curtains.
He was pretty sure she was going to kiss him.
Until she snarled and said, “What the hell were you thinking?”
What was he thinking? He was thinking she was going to kiss him. But, yeah, given her snarl, probably not.
“About what?” That he had to ask seemed to infuriate her more.
“Warning him off.”
“Who?” He knew damn well who.
“Mr. Green.”
He gulped. “Do you . . . like him?”
“What?”
“Do you like him? He is . . . good-looking, I guess.”
He didn’t expect her to smack him. Or maybe he did, because he’d braced himself for it.
“That is hardly the point. You didn’t need to scare him like that.”
He set his teeth. “Didn’t I?”
“He’s just a dancer.”
“He was touching you.” He couldn’t help leaning in, dominating her space, breathing her scent.
“People touch each other.”
Her declaration made his nerves fizzle. “Goddamn it. I’m tired of watching you flirt with all those men.”
“Hardly flirting.”
“You were flirting with Logan.”
“What? When?”
“On the hayride. I was watching you.”
“I wasn’t flirting.”
“Weren’t you?”
“I was getting to know him.”
“Not what it looked like.”
“Hardly matters. It’s none of your business.”
“It is my business.”
“It’s hardly the point. Besides which, what were you thinking, serving Logan up to Tibby on a silver platter?”
“That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“But it did.”
“I was distracted.”
Something in his tone caught her attention. “By what?”
“How am I supposed to focus? Watching you flirt with men all night long?”
She cocked a brow. “I thought that was the point of this party.”
“You know damn well it’s not.”
“Then what is it?”
He stared at her. God, she was magnificent. He couldn’t help himself. He cupped her cheeks and brought her closer.
Her eyes widened. Her nostrils flared. Something that might have been fear, or excitement, flashed over her features. “Is this your kiss?” she asked in a whisper.
“Yes,” he said. “This is my kiss.” And his mouth closed on hers.
It was glorious. Not just her taste or her heat or the little sound she made, a muffled cry of surprise or delight.
She responded.
Responded.
Like a wildcat in heat.
It was delicious, delightful, delirious. He felt his sanity reeling, receding.
“Because if this is your kiss,” she murmured against his lips, “you should know that—”
“Shut up,” he growled. “Just shut up and kiss me.”
And she did. Holy fuck. She did.
As he deepened the kiss, walking her farther into the shadows, she fisted her fingers in his hair and kissed him back. It was a savage exchange. As though they’d both been starving for this and simply couldn’t get enough.
They hit the wall. He barely noticed, except for a flare of satisfaction that he now had leverage. And he used it.
He pressed into her, glorying in the feel of her curves against his angles. That she rubbed against him, arched into his erection, made his mind spin. An insane need coiled within him. A need to taste her . . . everywhere.
Madly, he worked his way over her cheek to her earlobe and nuzzled her there. He remembered. Oh, he remembered. And yes, she went a little wild, moaning and tipping her head to give him more room to work.
She loved it when he nibbled on her neck. He knew, because of the way she sank her nails into his shoulders. Slowly, he began unbuttoning her blouse with nerveless fingers. But it didn’t take long for him to find his way beneath the fabric and curve his hand around the full, warm weight of her breast.
Her nipple gored his palm and he growled, tightened his hold. “God, I want you,” he muttered against her skin. She was warm, soft, perfumed. Her scent made his mind spin.
“I know.” She slid her hand between them and cupped his cock.
Holy fuck. He nearly came right then and there. It took everything in him to hold back. Because seriously, he wanted more. Needed more.
He yanked her lapels apart and stared down at her lace-covered breasts. It was dark, there in the corner, surrounded by the velvet curtains in a cocoon of passion, but he could see the contours of her breasts and the contrast of the black lace against her skin. It made his mouth water.
Without hesitation, he lowered his head and took her nipple into his mouth and sucked. Yeah, it wasn’t skin to skin, but a guy had to take what he was offered. And apparently, she liked it, because she lifted her leg and curled it around his waist.
If that wasn’t encouragement, he didn’t know what was.
With shaking fingers, he undid the snaps on her jeans and slipped his hand inside.
She stilled and then, to his delight, spread her legs wider.
It was still a tight fit inside her jeans, but he worked his way closer and closer to heaven.
When he found what he was looking for, his whole body went on point.
Because she was wet. Ready.
Insanity howled through him. She was hot. For him.
He lifted his head and stared at her, as he worked at her hard nub.
God, she was beautiful like this, her lashes half closed, her lips parted, her face softened by pleasure. “Do you like this?” he asked as he rubbed her, circled her, teased her.
“Yes.” A huff. “Yes.”
“I like it too.” He shifted position so he could ease into her with two fingers and still stroke her clit with his thumb. He shuddered because she was tight and hot. Mercilessly, he played her.
She seized, shuddered, shook. He suspected it was an orgasm, but a man could never be too sure, so he kept at it, stroking her, nuzzling her, nipping at her hard nipples as she writhed and moaned and urged him on.
As she neared her crisis, she became louder. He didn’t remember that about her, but he could hardly complain. She was lost in her passion. Crazed and needy. Thank God Cade had put on some music for dancing that was loud enough to cover her cries.
Cody knew she was close. He could feel it in the torturous hold she had on his fingers, feel it in the hot, wet kiss of her body. He redoubled his efforts. He wanted nothing more than to make her come again and again, to break her apart, to set her afire.
But he was not prepared when it came. When she came.
She went wild.
Madly, she clutched at him. Holding him close. Whispering nonsense in his ear.
His fingers ached, but he didn’t care. Her body closed on him like a vise, but he didn’t care. She wailed in his ear at about a hundred decibels but he didn’t care.
He was with her all the way.
Well, except in one way. One very important way.
He knew he had her. Now. In this moment.
But he needed more.
If he was going to fuck her—which he absolutely intended to do—he needed to seal the deal. And he wouldn’t have a better opportunity than this.
He captured her gaze with his. “Spend the night with me.” He punctuated the offer with another light stroke against her clit. Her lids drooped. Her body twitched. She sighed.
Her answer came out in something of a wail. “We agreed on a kiss.”
“I know. But I want more. I want you.”
“I’m not a groupie.”
He had no idea what that meant, but it seemed like a good idea to agree. “Of course not.” He stroked her again. “Spend the night with me.”
Her eyes narrowed. She studied him intently. “One night?’
“Just one night.”
“No strings?”
“None.”
He thought it might be helpful to suckle her nipple again while she thought it over. He ended with a nip, and for some reason, she pulled away. It took a moment for him to un-wedge his fingers from her jeans—and he hated leaving that warm, wet nest—but if she wanted some space to think it over, it was only chivalrous to give it to her. But he couldn’t let go of her completely. For some reason he couldn’t. He needed the connection, so he took her hand. And kissed it.
“What do you say?”
“Let’s get something straight,” she said, panting. “If we do this—”
“Which we should.” Oh yes. They absolutely should. For one thing, he was dying. Just dying.
“This is nothing more than a one-night stand.”
Something shafted through him. It felt like annoyance. Disappointment, maybe, but he ignored it. If she wanted a one-night stand, it dovetailed perfectly with his desires. Namely, fucking her out of his system. So he nodded.
“Say it.”
Damn, she was demanding. He liked that in a woman. He liked that a lot.
“Fine. A one-night stand and nothing more.”
“Nothing more.” She wriggled her hand free and thrust it before him.
It took a moment for his brain to catch up, but when it did, he took her hand in his and they shook on it.
Hardly a romantic way to seal such an agreement, but he refused to let it bother him.
Because he was going to fuck Sidney Stevens again, and he was going to do it tonight.