Playing With Fire (Tangled in Texas, #2)(58)
Hell, when it came to Cowboy, there were just no guarantees. I’d learned that lesson back in summer camp while living vicariously through Kelly Deter’s tales of her intimate moments with Cowboy. Only one day after he’d had his hands up her skirt, he’d dumped the poor girl and moved on to some other unsuspecting victim of his charm.
As I imagined the other women had been, I was too easily distracted by the crook of his finger and that sexy smirk of his. He’d made me feel special, and I hadn’t been able to ignore the burning-hot desire bubbling under my skin. Before I even realized what he was doing, he’d turned me into a hopeless puddle of confusion and I’d accepted his offer of a date. Damn him.
But I wasn’t naive enough to think the moment he talked me out of my panties he’d stick around for anything resembling a relationship. Hell, he’d be gone before my breathing regulated. But if that’s what it took for him to get me out of his system, then so be it.
The mere thought of having sex with Cowboy had me blowing out a hard breath. From the first moment he’d kissed me, I’d spent countless hours struggling to control my impure thoughts.
Even now, a warm, tingling sensation spread throughout my lower body and my forehead broke into a full-on sweat. The room suddenly had become unbearably hot, sweltering even. Jesus. The man wasn’t even here and he had me all hot and bothered. I kicked the bedspread off and rose from the bed.
If I planned to get any sleep, I needed to erase the memory of what his hands and mouth had done to my body. As if I even could.
I staggered toward the back door in search of some fresh air. I opened the door and stepped out onto the back porch, smiling at the sound of an owl hooting in the distance. My hair swayed in the balmy Texas breeze as my gaze followed the silver sheen of moonlight slanting across the wooden deck and onto a pair of…cowboy boots?
My smile deteriorated as my heart pounded furiously against my rib cage, plundering my sense of security. The scent of mint and tobacco overwhelmed me. I didn’t want to look up, but I had to know if what I was seeing was real. I swallowed hard as my eyes lifted.
About five feet away, lurking in the shadows, stood a dark-skinned man with long black hair. He stared back at me, piercing me with his intense golden eyes. The frown he wore turned into more of a sneer. I gasped.
Then he reached for me.
I didn’t even have a chance to run before the stars in the night sky swirled in my vision and the darkness overtook me.
The repetitious scratching irritated me, but it was the sulfuric odor that had awakened my senses. He was here. I could feel him beside me, even if I couldn’t see him. I blinked in the dark, searching for his figure, but was unable to find him. The scratching sounded again and fire exploded in front of my face in the form of a lit match.
A familiar fear rushed through my veins as the flame was extinguished with one alcohol-infused breath. The same breath I remembered from my earliest childhood memories. But was he gone?
No, he was still here. Always here.
When a man’s voice called out my name, I shot straight up. My eyes widened and swept the dark room, searching for two men: the dark-skinned man with the golden eyes and the man who had a starring role in my usual recurring nightmare. But they were nowhere to be found.
It wasn’t the first time I’d awoken in a panic and wondered if what I’d seen in my vision was real. Yet this time was different. The dark-skinned man on the porch had never been a part of my dreams before.
I shivered, although my bedspread covered me to my waist. As the terrifying images trapped inside my head replayed, my heart raced and tears pricked my eyes. I took shallow breaths to calm myself and shook my head. “It couldn’t have been a dream,” I said out loud, trying to convince myself I wasn’t crazy.
Yet, there I was, in my moonlit bedroom…alone.
Chapter Thirteen
After a long, mostly sleepless night, I’d finally resigned myself to seeing the date through. I wasn’t sure exactly how well the night with Cowboy would go, but I needed to do this for myself. Too many times I longed for a man to find me desirable and treat me as he would any woman. I wasn’t about to pass up a once in a lifetime opportunity.
Things were about to get very real, very fast, and I needed to be ready.
I spent the day primping and preparing myself for our date. I’d cleaned my house, washed my sheets, showered, and painted my toenails a pretty shade of coral. Not to mention my trip into town to buy the biggest box of condoms I’d ever seen, that were now resting on my bedside table. Just looking at them made me nervous.
Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. The note I’d found in my mailbox on my way to town had me slightly off-kilter before I’d even picked up the condoms. It said, “Think your hot stuff now? Wait ’til the fire starts.” The glaring grammatical issue on the crinkled paper was the least of my concerns.
The Barlows’ threats were becoming more serious each day. I was no longer certain ignoring them was the best course of action, though I doubted confronting them would do the situation justice. So, for tonight, I’d decided to put it out of my mind and tackle only one thing at a time. Starting with Cowboy.
I smoothed out the wrinkles in my pale blue, flowery sundress and slipped on my white sandals. I wasn’t sure what to wear for a one-night stand, so I just went with something simple and feminine. It was a safe bet. I’d never seen Cowboy in anything other than jeans and a T-shirt, so anything more than casual would be considered way overdressed.