Should've Been A Cowboy & Cowboy Up: Should've Been a Cowboy / Cowboy Up. Vicki Thompson Lewis
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the hayloft. The kiss had begun as gentle exploration and had ended with enough heat to melt all her inhibitions.
The open house, she reminded herself. She was here to evaluate the space for entertainment possibilities. The barn was quiet except for the sound of horses munching their evening meal. Somewhere a horse stomped a hoof, and another blew out a noisy breath. The scent of oiled leather mixed with the aroma of hay.
“I guess all the hands headed for the bunkhouse when they saw the storm coming,” Alex said.
“Smart.” She chose not to glance over at him as they stood in the center aisle of the barn only about two feet apart. Hearing his voice in this setting reminded her of how he’d murmured in her ear as he’d undressed her, and how he’d coaxed her to new heights of pleasure during that long, glorious night.
His voice had been a big part of the attraction early on. Hearing it coming through the sound system during the reception had begun the seduction, and by the time the festivities were over and she’d suggested moving the party to the hayloft, she’d been more than ready to hear that voice in a more intimate setting.
The open house, girl! You told him you’d help him plan his party! She cleared her throat. “If you lined the center aisle with tables for food and beverages, you could sweep out a few stalls and have potential seating in those. People could meander up and down this aisle and be close to the horses, which is what you want, right?”
He didn’t answer.
“Right?” she prompted, turning to him.
“Yeah.” His tone was husky, and he gazed at her with longing in his eyes.
Her heart began to pound. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Can’t help it.” He took a step toward her.
She thought about moving back. She didn’t. “We talked about this.” But her words lacked all conviction.
“I don’t want to talk.” He reached for her.
“Me neither.” With a groan she surrendered to the kiss she’d been craving for ten long months, the kiss she’d promised herself wouldn’t happen, the kiss that was so...damn...good.
Chapter Four
Mistakes shouldn’t feel like this. Mistakes should torture a guy with regret and anxiety. But this one—and no question that it was a big mistake—filled Alex with incredible joy.
The moment he connected with Tyler’s full mouth, his world made sense again. Kissing her was, he realized, his favorite thing to do. Cancel that. His second favorite.
She nestled against him and her body aligned with his as if they’d held each other only hours ago instead of months. His body remembered the fullness of her breasts, the curve of her spine, the press of her thighs. Predictably, within seconds of beginning this mistake of a kiss, he wanted to make more mistakes, bigger mistakes, juicier and more satisfying mistakes.
Judging from the way Tyler quivered and moaned softly when he thrust his tongue into her mouth, she had the same idea. She pushed her hips forward. He was already hard, already hotter than a branding iron. Somewhere in the middle of the kiss his Stetson toppled to the barn floor, and although he’d paid good money for that hat, he wasn’t about to retrieve it now.
He was too busy to worry about a hat. He’d found his way under the back hem of her T-shirt to the clasp of her bra. Once that gave way, he slid one hand around and cupped her warm breast. Sweet heaven. How could a woman who felt so right be completely wrong for him?
She moaned again and arched into his caress. He knew in that moment that whatever they’d said while standing outside her bedroom meant nothing now. If he could figure out the logistics, she would surrender to this passion neither of them could control and she would worry about the fallout later.
Or maybe not. Gasping, she wriggled out of his arms and backed away from him. Her shirt was rumpled where her bra hung unfastened beneath it. Her breasts quivered with her rapid breathing and her eyes were heavy-lidded and dark with need. “This is crazy.”
Heart hammering, he stared at her in helpless frustration as he gulped for air. His entire groin area ached from the restriction of his jeans. “I know.”
She glanced around quickly, as if looking for something. “Did you...did you bring...”
“No.” His sudden realization that she’d stopped him because she wanted to ask about condoms sent a new surge of desire through his system. “No, damn it.”
“Then we can’t...”
He wasn’t going to let this moment pass. “You can.” He started toward her.
She shook her head and backed up. “That’s not fair.”
“Let me decide that. I’ve missed touching you.”
She took a shuddering breath. “But it’s too one-sided. If we could just do it, then we could get it out of our system.”
If he hadn’t been so jacked up on lust, he would have laughed. She was seriously kidding herself if she believed one time would satisfy them. It hadn’t the night in the hayloft and it wouldn’t now.
He closed the distance between them. “You can’t believe that.”
“That’s what I was telling myself while you were kissing me senseless.” She stepped back and bumped against the latched door of an empty stall. “It seemed like a perfectly logical idea when you were unhooking my bra and I didn’t have the self-control of a gnat.”
He groaned. “You’re torturing me.”
“I know, and that’s mean. We should just go back before this gets any—”
A loud crash and a flash of light was followed by a low rumble and the steady ping of rain on the barn’s tin roof. The dogs came in and padded over to Alex, tails wagging slowly.
“Butch, Sundance, go lie down.” He pointed to the tack room where they each had a bed.
With twin doggie sighs of resignation, they left for the tack room. When he turned back to Tyler, the rain had started to pound on the roof in earnest, and she had her hands behind her back and under her shirt as if she intended to fasten her bra. He was losing ground.
“I guess we’ll have to make a run for it,” she said.
“We could, but it’ll probably let up in a few minutes. We could wait and see if it does.”
She hesitated. “I suppose.”
“So why not stop what you’re doing and unlatch that stall door? There’s a nice bed of hay in there.”
Her lips parted and heat simmered in her gaze as it had earlier in the hallway outside her room. This time she didn’t look away. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“Not when there’s something I want.” His heartbeat hammered in his ears, almost drowning the rattle of rain on the tin roof. “I think you want the same thing.”
Her breathing quickened. “Now you’re the one torturing me.”
“I can fix that.” Please let me love you.
“Alex...”
“Tyler...” He waited, willing her to turn and unlatch that stall door, yet knowing that she might not. If she decided to run out into the rain, he’d have to run with her, because she couldn’t arrive at the house dripping wet with him nowhere around. That would look bad.
She finished hooking her bra. “I’m going to see how hard it’s coming down.” Breaking eye contact, she walked to the front of the barn.
He scooped up his hat from the floor and followed her. If she insisted on making a run for it, he’d leave his hat on a shelf beside the door rather than ruin it in the rain. But he was still hoping she’d