Heart of Steele (12 page)

Then her childlike awe at the snow. She had
so many qualities he was looking for in a woman, but her secrets
kept him wondering. He’d been lied to so much recently. His dad,
Ryder, they swore neither had known about each other, but he just
couldn’t believe it. Too much coincidence with Ryder worming his
way into Steele’s life.

“Fuck.” He felt his blood pressure rising. He
didn’t have to wallow in that swill today, or for the next few days
when, hopefully, he’d have a solution to the problem that had
exiled him. And Tracy.

He strummed a couple chords on his guitar.
“Tracy.” He sang. “Where do you keep those secrets hidden.” He
smiled. “Sugarbeet.”

He opened his eyes. It was dark outside. He’d
fallen asleep? He never napped. The fresh air and sex had knocked
him out. He sniffed. Food? Sniffing again, he set down the guitar
and got up, stretching with a loud yawn and louder stomach rumble.
What was Tracy up to?

He trudged through the lower hallway to the
kitchen. Low lights glowed and soft country music played from the
under-cabinet radio. The smell of beef invaded his senses, big pots
bubbled on the stove, sending steam up to the rafters. Tracy closed
the refrigerator door and spotted him. “Hi. Hope you’re hungry. I
felt like cooking.” She wore a baggy pink T-shirt and black yoga
pants, along with the floppy pink slippers she’d had on earlier.
Her long hair was pulled back into a thick braid that hung down her
spine.

“Starving.” No one had really used the
kitchen before. His sister liked to bring reheatable meals that she
could throw into the microwave. “I didn’t know you cooked.” He
walked to the stove and looked into the pots. Boiling potatoes in
one, a head of cauliflower steaming in the other.

A buzzer sounded from the laundry room.

She hitched her thumb over her shoulder. “I
hope you don’t mind. I found the laundry and washed a few
things.”

“Of course not. Make this your home.” Shit,
he’d meant to say, “make yourself at home” but his brain must still
be half asleep.

She laughed. “Okay, just sign over the place
to me, and I will.” She strode to him, peeking at him from under
her lashes. “I tiptoed into your cave and saw you sleeping.” She
wrapped her arms around his middle and looked up at him. “You’re
kinda sexy when you’re out cold.”

He slid his hands down her back, pulling her
closer. “Just when I’m asleep?” His cock took the opportunity to
swell.

“No. All the time.” She lifted up on tiptoe
and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “You’re just less dangerous
when you’re asleep, though.”

“Dangerous?” He jutted his hips forward,
pushing his cock into her soft belly.

“You’re a danger to my...” She frowned.

What was she going to say? Heart? Jeez, was
his imagination working overtime, or what?

“To my self-control.” She stepped back from
him with a sigh.

He didn’t want to, but he let her go.

The microwave buzzed and the dryer sounded
again.

“I’ll get the laundry.” He stepped around
her.

“Towels are in the washer if you want to dry
them next.”

She’d washed a load of towels? Sweet. From
the dryer, he pulled the bra, panties, shorts, and t-shirt she’d
been wearing yesterday at the video shoot. He folded them and set
them on the dryer and tossed the towels in next.

When he returned to the kitchen, she was at
the sink straining the water from the boiled potatoes. “Will you
mash?”

“Sure.” His mom used to have him mash the
potatoes for her. A long time ago.

Tracy set him up with melted butter, hot
milk, and a metal potato masher.

She pulled a roast out of one of the ovens,
the scent of perfectly cooked beef, crusted with spices and salt,
filled the air.

His mouth watered as he worked the potatoes
until there were no lumps left.

When she pulled a rectangular pan of
chocolate cake from the other oven, he knew she’d found the way to
his heart.

They transferred the meal onto platters and
hauled them to the dining room table where she’d set out plates,
silver, cloth napkins, and wine glasses. Their place settings were
across from each other at the end of the table closest to the
windows where they could watch the snow falling.

He turned on the outdoor spotlights and Tracy
stepped to the wall of windows. “Oh, Steele. It’s so
beautiful.”

Walking up behind her, taking her in his
arms. “It is.” Peaceful, quiet, everything he wanted, he had right
here. He turned her toward him, wanting her to know how much the
last two days had affected him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It was fun. I haven’t had
the opportunity to cook for anyone in a while.” She took his hand
and led him to the table. “Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

He followed her, not correcting her
assumption that he was grateful for her cooking. Which he was. But
the rest could wait until later.

They feasted on medium-rare roast beef,
mashed potatoes, beef gravy, cauliflower spiced with Cajun
seasoning, plus rolls she’d found in the freezer and called
“cheating” as she promised to make real rolls for him the next
day.

They went through a bottle of wine and opened
a second one. She spotted a family of deer outside the window and
ran to get her phone to take pictures.

She made coffee to complement the chocolate
cake she’d whipped up from a boxed mix. They brought their dessert
to eat in front of the fireplace.

He bit into the cake, nuts, chocolate chips.
It had to be the most moist cake he’d ever tasted. “This is really
good. Your own recipe?”

She sipped her coffee and snuggled next to
him. “Yes, add anything you can find in the cupboard and bake.”

He offered her a bite and she took it in her
mouth, licking bits of crumb from her lips. “Where’d you learn to
cook like that? Everything was perfect.”

“My mother worked nights, so I was in charge
of feeding everyone.” She stared down into her cup.

“Tracy.” He curved a finger under her chin
and turned her to face him. “In the truck yesterday, you said you’d
be willing to listen to me anytime I wanted to talk.” He released
her chin.

She nodded, looking at him with her soulful
green eyes.

“Same goes for me.” He’d like to know what
piece of her past still loomed over her, turning her pensive and
sad.

Setting down her coffee mug, she tucked into
him, wrapping her arm around his middle and resting her head on his
chest. “Thank you. I really appreciate the offer.
Maybe...someday.”

He folded her into his arms. They couldn’t
move forward with their relationship until everything was out in
the open, but they had time. Lots of time.

After they cleared the dishes away, they sat
and talked for a few hours. He taught her how to stoke the fire,
then she made him wait while she ran to get something.

When she brought back his acoustic guitar, he
stared at her, his gut clenching. “You’ve got a song you want to
play for me?” Too many times, a beautiful woman slept with him to
get him to listen to a song they wanted to sell him.

He reminded himself this was Tracy, not a
devious songwriter, and his whole body relaxed. Damn, he’d grown
jaded after all the years in the business.

She laughed. “Oh hell, no. You heard my one
singing story.” She sat and handed him the guitar. “And we don’t
want a repeat of that, do we?”

“No.” He set the guitar on his lap. “You want
me to sing?”

“Would you?” She faced him and crossed her
legs pretzel-style. “Anything is fine, I just have never heard you
sing up close. Um...besides your lip-syncing with the music at the
movie studio.”

“Lip-syncing doesn’t count?” How the hell did
she surprise him every time? “Sure. Here’s one of my favorites.” He
sang an old ballad made famous by a long-deceased country singer.
When he finished, he shrugged. “I don’t do it as well as Hank did,
but I love the song.”

“You do it just as well as him, but in your
own style. You should do an album of old songs. Bring them back for
today’s country fans.”

“Someday.” When he had time to just sit and
think for more than an hour at a time. “How about something from my
new album?”

She clapped and laughed. “Now you sound like
you’re on stage.”

“Yeah, sorry. Old habit.” He picked out the
melody while he sang a wicked song about sex with wild country
girls. He changed a few of the words to “Tracy” and “sugarbeet,”
and she smiled and shook her head. He finished and set the guitar
aside.

“If I ever hear those revised lyrics at a
concert, I’m going to sue.”

He reached over and pulled her onto his lap.
“Go ahead. You’ll never be able to prove you’re not a wild sex
maniac.”

Wriggling her bottom against his groin, she
batted her eyes at him. “I
am
a wild sex maniac.” She hooked
her hand around his neck and pulled him in until their lips just
touched. “But only for your big, nasty cock, Steele.”

That big nasty cock swelled and jumped under
her ass, and he was ready to ride.

Tracy woke with sunshine streaming in through
the windows. Steele lay half on top of her, his head on her chest,
his arm and leg thrown over her as if he didn’t want her to get
away. Shifting, she felt the ache between her legs. She’d ridden
him reverse-cowgirl on the couch, both of them naked in the light
of the fire.

He’d carried her to his bedroom then, and
she’d begged for sleep and a chance to recover, but he’d slid his
tongue down her body and between her legs to gently bring her to
another orgasm.

She sighed and kissed the top of his head
where his hair lay rumpled. Could a girl get addicted to orgasms?
How many were too many in one day, and would she ever be able to
get over her need for this man?

As the sun rose and the windows automatically
tinted, she firmed up her resolve to end it the moment they left
Big Bear. Otherwise, it would turn into a bump-and-run for him.
Whenever he needed a quickie, he’d call her, they’d have a few wild
hours, then she wouldn’t see him again for months.

She had plans. Goals. She couldn’t be
focusing on him instead of on her career.

“Did I fall asleep with your nipple in my
mouth?” His deep rumble shook through her chest.

With a giggle, she lifted his head to look
into his eyes. “I wouldn’t doubt it. You were trying to convince me
to do something wicked and wild, and when I kept saying no, you
just collapsed.”

He lifted off her, leaning in and smooching
her on the lips. “Wanna do something wicked and wild now?” He slid
his rock-hard staff along her thigh.

She looked up at the ceiling and spread her
arms wide, dropping them on the bed. “If you insist.”

He laughed. “Aw, sugarbeet. You insult me.”
Rolling her over onto her stomach, he smacked her butt.

She wiggled her ass. “Oooh, let me insult you
a few more times.”

He smacked her other cheek. “You like
that?”

“Uh huh. Best breakfast treat I’ve had all
year.”

“Let’s try something kinky.” He jumped off
the bed.

She watched him dig in a dresser drawer.
“Okay, but if you pull a big, nasty dong out of there—”

“No dong.” He grabbed his cock at the base
and pointed it at her. “Other than this one.”

Licking her lips, she ran her hand over her
breast. “I love that one.”

He groaned out a shaky breath. “Save that
thought for later.” He went back to digging in the drawer and came
back to bed with a black scarf and wide purple cuffs on the ends of
a long, silver chain.

“I’m guessing those are for me?” The thrill
of being bound, at his mercy, worked shivers of lust in her
belly.

“Uh huh. You game?” He knelt between her
legs.

“Sure.”

He ran his hands up her back, down her spine,
and over her ass. “This is going to be good.” He lay on top of her,
pressing her into the mattress, and her breath whooshed out of
her.

A wave of desire rode through her. As she
sucked in a breath, he pulled her arms over her head and velcroed
one wrist, wrapped the chain around the bedpost, and cuffed her
other wrist. “You can release yourself if you need to.” Leaning to
press his lips to her ear, he whispered, “In case I get too wicked
or wild.”

His hot breath in her ear sent tingles to her
nipples. “I like it when you’re naughty.”

“Then you’re gonna love this.” He centered
the blindfold over her eyes, wrapped it around her head, and tied
it. “Now I’ve got you under my control.”

Her hips started circling of their own accord
as blasts of lust filled her body with sexual desire.

Kissing her neck, his hands slid beneath her
to her breasts. He spread his fingers over her nipples and squeezed
each one alternately.

The jittering desire spread through her
breasts and straight down to her pussy.

Then he was gone. The bed jiggled. She tested
the cuffs, and the chain held tight. Turning her head to the other
side, she listened. Silence. Was this part of the game?

His big hand smacked her ass cheek.

She jumped then settled, waiting for the next
smack. Her ass warmed where he’d slapped it. Jiggling both cheeks,
she found she liked the sting.

The second smack came on her other globe. The
sensation rippled through her, concentrating in her core.

Another swat on the first cheek, then on the
second.

These stung a little more since the flesh was
already tingling.

“Tell me what you like, Tracy.” He’d moved
away from the bed.

“I like it when you spank me, Steele.” Or was
she supposed to call him master? She’d read some of the hot books,
but those were more advanced than what they were doing here.

“Good. I like spanking you.” He was on the
other side of the room. How did such a big guy move so quietly?
“What else do you like?”