Playing With Fire (Tangled in Texas, #2)(67)
“You have nothing to be ashamed about,” Emily assured me. “That guy was an *. Don’t keep yourself from having a relationship—sexual or otherwise—with someone else because you’re afraid that they’ll be the same way. This time, you just need to make sure it’s with the right person.”
“Is that your way of saying you don’t think Cowboy is the right person?” I asked.
Bobbie Jo smiled. “Do you think he’s the right person? Because that’s really all that matters.”
“That, and the fact that he’s the Legend of the South,” Emily said, winking. “After all, that is what women around here say about him. He’s supposed to be a wonderful lover. Might be a wise move to get a lesson from the master.” She laughed a little. “Anna, have you ever had an orgasm?”
“Emily!” Bobbie Jo yelled.
“No,” I answered honestly, not giving her time to retract the question. “No man ever gave me one.”
Emily’s eyes widened slightly. “Well, why the hell are you waiting for a man to give you one? No one knows how to please you better than yourself. Give yourself one.”
Bobbie Jo shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Emily’s right. You can’t show a man what you like if you don’t really know yourself.”
“And faking an orgasm isn’t going to do him any favors,” Emily added. “It would just be you cheating yourself out of pleasure. You need to communicate what you want.”
“So, um…have you two ever…”
“What? Masturbated?” Emily leaned back in her chair with a huge grin. “Yep. In fact, I handcuffed Jake to the bed last night and let him watch. He loved it.”
“Oh God!” Bobbie Jo laughed. “Ever heard of TMI? You know I’m going to make fun of Jake for that one.”
“Don’t you dare! He’d kill me if he knew I told you that.”
I giggled. “What about you, Bobbie Jo?”
She grinned. “Are you kidding? I’m a single mom to a five-month-old. There’s not exactly a line of men banging down my door at the moment. I’m basically dating my vibrator.”
Emily and I laughed, but Bobbie Jo turned serious. “This is the thing, Anna. Whether it’s with Cowboy or someone else, don’t assume that because you sleep with someone that he’ll fall in love. You see what I’m going through with Jeremy. It’s not a fun situation to be in. Be careful.”
“I agree,” Emily said, nodding. “Some men are dogs and are always sniffing around for the next female in heat.”
“So, you’re saying that’s what Cowboy is doing?”
The girls glanced at each other and smiled. Then Bobbie Jo said, “No, I think you scared that hound dog up a tree. He probably anticipated a longer wait, but you put a stop to the chase and offered him up the reward. Now he doesn’t know what to do about it.”
“Maybe I should call him and—”
“God, no!” Emily shouted. “Jesus. Don’t make it so easy for him. For a man like Cowboy, it’s all about the chase. This time, he just barked up the wrong tree. If I’ve learned anything about him over the past year of knowing him, he’s probably at home right now, scooting his ass on the floor in circles trying to figure you out.”
“She’s right, Anna. Let him stew for a while,” Bobbie Jo suggested. “He’ll come pawing back at your door when he’s ready.”
Feeling a little unsure and apprehensive, I looked down and tangled my fingers together in my lap. “About that…” I said, lifting my head as my eyes glossed over. “There’s something else I haven’t told you, yet.”
Chapter Fifteen
Three days passed before a knock sounded on my door. Actually, it wasn’t a knock. More like a persistent banging. I slipped on my robe and pulled the wet towel from my still-damp hair, then went to answer it.
“Hold on a second,” I yelled as I made my way through the house.
After receiving two more ominous notes over the past few days, I sure as hell wasn’t about to swing open the door for just anyone. Even if it was only late afternoon. I hadn’t mentioned the notes to anyone because it was silly to worry my friends for nothing, but the threats had become more volatile. Since I was largely ignoring the Barlow brothers’ attempts at intimidating me, I was positive it wouldn’t be long before they tried something different to provoke me into a reaction.
But when I glimpsed through the peephole, it wasn’t the troublesome neighbors staring back at me. With a huff, I threw open the door.
Cowboy filled the doorway wearing his gray plaid button-down with the pearl snaps, which was only halfway tucked into the waist of his jeans. The hem of his pants sat on top of his boots, as if he’d thrown his clothes on in a hurry.
I crossed my arms. “What do you want?”
“We need to talk,” he said, brushing past me into my living room.
My eyes narrowed at his intrusion. “Why?”
But he didn’t seem to notice the irritation in my stance or my voice. He was too busy pacing around in circles beside my couch with a sour look on his face. I shut the door, but I didn’t move toward him.