Slow Hand (Hot Cowboy Nights, #1)(22)

He’d experienced that vulnerability himself. It was how he’d gotten involved with Allie. He’d been hurting like hell and she’d taken advantage of his shaky state. He’d been too damned out of his head to resist, but with Allie the attraction was never more than skin deep, and any comfort he’d gained from her had long worn off. Now she was more of a habit than anything else. He’d felt that way even before Nikki arrived on the scene, but now the thought of being with Allie again was about as appealing as wearing a pair of boots a size too small.

Allie was like a diamond—mighty fine to look at but just as hard. Nicole, on the other hand, was soft in a way that stirred an age-old instinct to claim, to protect, to brand as his own. Only a minute ago he’d debated not driving out to the ranch, but returning instead to his office where they’d have privacy, but even as the devil tempted him with a night of sin, he knew he couldn’t do it—not now. Not tonight.

Shutting his eyes on an inward curse, he released her mouth, although he lingered a bit longer on letting loose of the ass, he was dying to put his mouth and his mark on. Dismissing that thought with another muffled oath, he reached for the door handle. “C’mon, darlin’. I’d better get you to bed.”

She resisted with a frown when he attempted to herd her into the truck. “About that, Wade. I know I gave you mixed signals, but you need to know I’m still very conflicted.”

“Conflicted, eh? There’s no need to be.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause nothing more’s gonna happen. That’s why. Not tonight anyway.”

“Nothing?” she repeated blankly. “After all you just said? Y-you can’t just leave it at that! It’s like the female equivalent of blue balls!”

“Sweetheart, I assure you, there ain’t no female equivalent of blue balls. Nothin’ even close. It’s a uniquely masculine condition, and one I think I’m going to suffer with for the next couple of hours.”

“B-but you don’t have to—”

He couldn’t help a chuckle at the note of frantic frustration in her voice. “Darlin’, if you weren’t three sheets to the wind, I promise I’d already have you on your back in the bed of this truck.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “It doesn’t look very comfortable.”

“I assure you comfort would be the furthest thing from your mind.”

And based on the tightness of his jeans, it sure as hell was the furthest thing from his.





Chapter 6


Nikki awoke to find herself in a large cherry four-poster bed, with sunshine streaming through brightly curtained windows of a room she didn’t recognize—a room with split log walls.

A log cabin? Where the hell am I?

Montana!

She was in Montana. She remembered arriving in Bozeman the night before last and then driving to Sheridan with Wade. She’d seen her father and then…then…her throat tightened.

Oh shit! She’d gotten totally wasted!

Why had she gone for tequila? It always made her do crazy things. Stupid things—like sleeping with hot Montana cowboys. With her pulse racing in panic, she forced herself to breathe and take stock. No. It was OK. It must be. One: she was in a very unmasculine bedroom. Two: she was alone. Three: she still had her clothes on—the same ones from last night. Thank God! But that still didn’t ease her mind about where she was or how she got there.

The last thing she recalled from the night before was Wade’s tongue in her mouth. Well, that wasn’t quite it either, more like the very abrupt and disappointing removal of his tongue from her mouth, followed by the departure of his big, warm hands from her ass. That part, unfortunately, she recalled quite clearly.

But what had put him off? That she’d been drunk? That would be a first—a man who didn’t want her drunk as a skunk. She supposed she should look at the bright side. Even as trashed as she was, at least Wade hadn’t taken her for some skank who’d give him a blow job without even buying her dinner first. Not that she’d ever sunk that low before. Not with anyone. Not even in high school. Well, there was the incident in the horse trailer at the Toccoa rodeo, but she’d been wasted then, too.

But Wade had revealed a number of things that made him different from other men. She flushed all over and squeezed her thighs together at a particular revelation. Oh yeah! She remembered that part of their conversation vividly. Of the half-dozen guys she’d slept with in her life, none had ever initiated oral sex. At best it was a halfhearted afterthought…and felt like it too. Something told her that Wade would have put his best foot forward. Damn it all! Now I’ll never know.

She wondered—if he hadn’t stopped things, if they would really have done it in the bed of his truck? She was afraid to answer that question. Last night she wasn’t exactly herself. She hadn’t been from the moment she’d landed in Denver. She seemed to have lost all common sense along with her ID. How was she ever going to be able to look him in the eye again after he’d seen her shit-faced? Her whirling thoughts threatened to make her dizzy.

You aren’t gonna get any answers lying in this bed, Nikki. Might as well buck up and face the firing squad. She sat up too abruptly, making her aching head spin and her stomach churn.

Oh God! Bad mistake, Nikki!