Hell on Heels (Hotel Rodeo #1)(47)

He dropped onto the bed beside her and then surprised her by rolling her on top.

“Since you prefer it on top,” he answered her questioning look, “let’s see if you can ride me cowgirl style.”



Monica stirred awake at the feel of Ty’s bristled face nuzzling her neck and his erection prodding between the cheeks of her ass. Still floating in a half-conscious haze, she wriggled into him and hooked her leg over his thigh, purring with contentment as he pushed inside.

He set a lazy rhythm of deep and slow thrusts while his expert fingers played music on her. God, how she loved the feel of him. It was heaven to wake up like this and even better to climax together. It all felt utterly perfect, as if for these few sweet moments the universe was in absolute harmony.

Ty rolled over with a groan. “C’mon. Gotta get up now, sleepyhead, so I can show it to you.”

“Show me what?” she asked, her brain still fuzzy with the afterglow of lovemaking.

“What I brought you out here for. Hurry up. The show doesn’t last long.”

“Gee, Ty,” she grinned. “With all the sex I forgot your real purpose in bringing me out here.”

He chuckled and dragged her across the bed, pushing her to her feet and guiding her to a set of French doors.

“Wait!” she protested. “I’m not even dressed.”

He ripped off the bed sheet with an exasperated sound and threw it over her. Monica wrapped it around herself toga-style and followed Ty out onto the flagstone-covered terrace.

Looking out over the expanse of desert, she almost forgot to breathe. The first rays of dawn had begun to spread fingers of light toward the distant horizon, slowly dispersing the lingering shadows. Painted by the sun in soft hues of orange and pink, the copper-stained canyons stood in stark contrast against the backdrop of purple sky. Ty came from behind, wrapping his arms around her and murmuring in her ear. “Told you it was better than anything on The Strip.”

“Thank you for sharing it with me.” She shut her eyes on a blissful sigh, wishing she could remain forever cloaked in his warm body and his scent. What would it be like to do this every day? To wake up making love and then watch the sunrise with a man she . . .

Her heart gave a painful contraction. She refused to continue that thought, to define the feeling that suddenly welled up in her chest.

Ty dropped his hands from her shoulders as the sun crested. “Show’s over now. Hungry?”

“Starving,” she answered.

“I make a mean Spanish omelet.”

“You cook?” she asked in surprise.

“I manage,” he replied. “But don’t expect much. My repertoire is strictly limited to skillet foods.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Wanna join me in the shower first?”

He shook his head with a grin. “We both know where that would lead.”

“And you have a problem with that?”

“Far from it, Sugar, but as much as I’d love to stay here and laze in bed with you all day, I can’t. I’ve got some important things to take care of.”

“Oh? Like what?” she asked. “What’s so urgent?”

“Business, Ms. Brandt.” He unhooked her arms. “Important business.”

“Hotel business?”

“Maybe.”

“Then that involves me too, don’t you think?”

“Nope,” his mouth compressed. “Not at this juncture anyway.”

Why was he being so evasive? She felt as if he’d suddenly shut her out. Monica took a quick shower while he made breakfast. Donning his bathrobe, she padded out to the kitchen to find Ty already dressed in pressed jeans and starched shirt. She noted his wet hair. “So you showered after all?

“Yup. Used the guest bath.” He handed her a huge stoneware mug filled with steaming coffee. “Hope you like it black. It’s that or the powdered stuff. I’m not here often enough to keep dairy products in the fridge.”

“Thanks. Black is fine.” She took a sip as he scooped their food from the iron skillet onto two stoneware plates and gestured for her to sit.

“It smells great, Ty.”

“Don’t expect too much. I had to make do with the ingredients on hand.” He produced a large bottle of ketchup, setting it down in front of her with a grin. “In case you don’t like my cooking. My feelings won’t be hurt.”

Monica took a bite of egg, onion, and potato. It wasn’t bad at all, but she found herself too distracted to enjoy it.

“If you want a lift back into the city you can ride with me,” he said, “But I won’t be back until late tonight.”

“No thanks. I’ll just call Frankie.”

“Then I’ll give you the key code. Feel free to make yourself comfortable here.”

“I’m not staying at your place again tonight, Ty.”

His brows met in a frown. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not practical for me. I need to be closer to Tom and to the hotel.”

“It’s only twenty minutes away. It’s not a bad drive. We just need to see about getting you a car.”

“A car?”

“Yes. Aren’t you tired of having to call a driver all the time?”