Smoke. Fire. Cowboy (Cowboys of Nirvana Book 3) (5 page)

“Trust me, marriage is the last thing I’m looking for, therefore, I’m right where I should be.” She nibbled her bottom lip. She could have licked him and evoked the same jolt of electricity shooting through him.

“I have a feeling that somewhere out there is a man that regrets letting you go.”

“Oh, have you heard the rumors?”

He shrugged. “My own opinion.”

“You’re wrong. He doesn’t regret the end of our relationship. He’s living happily-ever-after with his assistant who now offers aid in other, more intimate areas.” She tucked a strand of her wayward hair behind her ear.

His breath caught. “Fucking idiot,” he muttered.

She blushed. He liked the color against her skin. He allowed his gaze to roam to her slender shoulders. The strap of her top had fallen down on her arm again and his fingers ached to drag it back into place. Hell, he wanted to drag the material from her body. Since that wasn’t an option, he would have to enjoy her silky smooth skin from afar. And that he did, all the way to the deep seam between her breasts. Her nipples were hard against the material, making him wonder if she was wearing a bra. If she was, he bet it was wafer thin. No denying she was stunning and could make his heart roar, and places on his body as hard as a rock. She moved slightly, her breasts lifted, and he got a better view of the firm mounds. He swallowed and forced his gaze back up to her face. Damn! This wasn’t productive, not at all.

“I happen to agree. He is an idiot.” The voice that flowed from her lips was soft and undeniably sultry. He doubted it was her intention, making her more attractive to him. “But like most idiots, they have no clue when they’re making the biggest mistake of their life.”

A lump grew in his throat and there was a sharp ache at his temples. There was once a time he couldn’t have imagined himself sitting with a woman and being overcome with the desire to pull her into his arms and never let go. Could this be the heartstrings he’d heard his buddies talk about? No, not him. Not a rough and tough cowboy who swore he’d always keep his heart free from emotion. “His loss. A man who cheats isn’t worth crying over.” The corners of her mouth curved downward and she looked at him through the veil of her lashes. “What’s that look? I haven’t seen it before.” And he thought he knew her every expression.

“You have quite the reputation of being a womanizer.” She shrugged. “Do you stay single so you won’t cheat?”

“I’m single because it’s my choice.”

“Or that you enjoy the revolving door?”

“That was a low blow.” He rubbed his hands down his face. Just when he thought things were taking an upturn.

Her shoulders slumped some. “I don’t know you, so I guess that was a bit of a low blow.”

“Not all men are like your ex, sweetheart. Just because all men have kahunas doesn’t mean we use them the same way. I understand the definition of commitment even if I haven’t met the right woman to be committed to.”

“Point taken.” Her smile returned.

“I have an idea.” He pushed his chair back, dusted off his jeans, and went to the hutch where all of the board games were stacked on the shelf. He searched until he came to the deck of cards wedged in the corner. “Aha, here they are.” He took the cards out of the box and shuffled them, showing off his skills, but she didn’t look impressed. She sat staring at him with a blank expression.

“I don’t play cards,” she said.

He chuckled. “This isn’t your normal card game.” He returned to his seat and laid the deck on the table between them. Tapping the top card with his forefinger, he leaned closer. “We’ll each draw one card. Draw the highest card and that person can ask one question—any question they desire.”

Caution filled her eyes. “Why not just do what everyone else does…have a conversation?”

“And what’s the fun in doing what everyone else does?”

“Is this what you and the hands do in your spare time?”

He rubbed his chin. “No, we snap wet towels across each other’s bare asses.”

Her brows scrunched. “Seriously?”

“I’m joking. Unbelievably, we’re not as immature as we sometimes lead people to think. Now, are we ready?”

It seemed like forever before she finally responded. “I’ll only answer questions within reason.” She worked her bottom lip.

“Fair. I’ll even let you draw the first card. And I think we’ll need another round.” He got up again, grabbed a beer from the fridge and by the time he made it back there was a card laying face up. A Jack of hearts. “Did you cheat?”

“Of course not,” she answered quickly, her cheeks turning a mysterious pink.

He turned over the next card on the deck. A ten of spades. “Go for it.” He didn’t mind her questions. He was willing to sit in the frying pan to get what he wanted…to understand Sofie.

She took her time. He could practically see the wheels turning inside of her head. “How old are you?”

“That’s all you got?” He laughed.

“These are my questions.” Her voice cracked.

“Twenty-nine. How old are you?”

“Tsk, tsk. It’s not your turn.” She wagged her forefinger and flipped the next card. An Ace. “I’m starting to really like this game.”

He turned the next card. A two. “Make it a good one.”

“Ever loved someone?”

Her dazzling eyes pierced his flesh. He blew out a breath. “No.”

“Never? How is that possible?” she blurted.

“You can’t ask two questions,” he warned.

Next draw. She drew a nine. He rubbed his hands together feeling as if his luck was about to turn. “I have a good one coming.” He flipped a Queen. “Yes, indeed.”

“Now play nice.” Her soft voice made every hair on his body stand erect.

“Oh, trust me, darlin’. I play very, very nice.” He loved how her cheeks turned a brighter pink. One thing he knew, she wore her emotions in her expressions. Her chest lifted with each breath, pressing her breasts against her top.

“Are you going to ask a question or waste more of that charm on me?” She flicked up a brow. She recovered way too quickly.

“When was the last time you had sex?” The question just seemed to fall out. He hadn’t meant to make her uncomfortable, but she shifted, and were those goosebumps on her skin?

“That’s not a fair question?”

“Okay, if you don’t want to answer because you’re chicken—”

“I’m not chicken.” She tugged a tendril of hair behind her ear and the diamond stud twinkled in the light. “A year.”

He blew a whistle through his teeth and she batted her lashes. “Damn!”

“Just keep in mind that I will have my chance again.”

“To have sex?”

Her eyes narrowed. “To draw a high card.” She grabbed one, a brilliant smile curving her pretty lips. She turned it over and waved it in the air. “Read it and weep. A Queen. Trump that Mr. Charming Pants.”

For the first time in his life he wouldn’t mind losing just to see that smile light up her face again. He took his turn and sighed dramatically. “A three.” He couldn’t wait to see what she’d ask. No doubt she could play dirty when she wanted to.

“Is it true you have a bull tattoo on your bottom and that each woman you’ve—,” she cleared her throat delicately, “you know, you get a slash on the bull’s bicep for each woman you’ve slept with?”

“I didn’t see you as the sort who participated in rumors, sweetheart.”

“How about the tattoo?” she asked.

“There’s only one way for you to find out.” He kept his gaze glued to hers. “Can you handle it?”

She was mute for the longest time, long enough that he thought she’d pull away, but then she saucily flipped her hair over one shoulder and turned her chin in a determined tilt. “I can handle it.”

His cock twitched. “I bet you can.” He stood, gazes still locked, the color of her skin turning brighter as he undid the buckle. The metal loosened and
clanked
loudly. Slowly and deliberately, he pulled the leather strap out from the loops, his cock growing harder. This would probably be the closest he’d ever get to undressing in Sofie’s presence. He placed the belt on the table and it slipped into her lap. She gripped the worn leather in her hands, her knuckles turning white, yet she kept her curious gaze on him. Her lovely mouth slightly parted and the tip of her tongue slid across the seam.
My God, she’s beautiful.
  He swallowed against the constriction in his throat, willing his body to stay in control. He hadn’t been this close to coming in his jeans since high school.

His held his fingers on the zipper, hesitating. She wasn’t changing her mind and there was no way in hell he’d back down.

The zipper was down, his breathing turned heavy as he tucked his thumbs into the waistband. Her chest rose and fell with each breath. Did she feel it too? The loss of oxygen. He slid the waist lower on his hips and turned. He wasn’t a bashful man, but her seeing his package wasn’t part of the deal. Did he hear a slight moan of disappointment from her? He dipped his jeans and boxers down over one butt cheek, showing off the tattoo he’d gotten when he was eighteen. “Seen enough?” he asked.

“Yes.” The word came out in a croaky whisper.

He fixed his clothing and turned back, smiling. “Answer your question?” She nodded, her cheeks flaming red and her lips moist. “You see, sweetheart,” he sat down, “rumors are a lot like snowballs. Keep rolling them along and they get bigger and bigger.”

“No slashes on his arm. Why a bull though? On your bottom of all places.” She rolled her fingers around the stem of the glass, sliding them up and down. She was making him crazy.

“I’ll give you a freebie. It was a challenge with my buddies. Whoever lost the challenge had to get a tattoo on their bottom. I was the lucky one.”

She leaned in, placing her palms on the table. “I would have backed out.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You believe in honor too. I’ve never backed down from a challenge or a promise.”

“Here we go.” She took another card and groaned.

“Another two.” He clicked his tongue. “And look, I have a six. I better make this a good question.” He sat back, roving his gaze from her bright eyes over her pert nose to the kissable shape of her pretty mouth. “When was the last time you were kissed?”

Her bottom lip quivered and he felt a tingle shoot all the way down his shaft and settle at the tip.

“Does every question have to be about physical intimacy?” she raged.

“I showed you the bull, so answer, sweetheart,” he urged. She was right, though, everything he wanted to know seemed to involve when she’d been touched last. Why did it bother him to think of a man touching her? Kissing those lush lips? He squeezed the bridge of his nose, wishing he could ease the strain in his body.

She stood up and the chair scraped the floor. “I’m done playing.”

He chuckled. “That easily?”

“The last time I had sex or was kissed really isn’t any of your business. These are not questions to help you get to know me,” she sputtered.

“You’re free to your opinion, but I beg to differ. I’ve often thought if you were kissed, or made love to, in the right way, you’d come off that high horse you’ve been riding since the second you walked into Nirvana.” There went his filter.

All the lovely possibilities vanished from her gaze. “For your information, I’ve been kissed recently.” As if she realized she’d slipped up, she clamped her mouth tight.

Jealousy slammed through him. He had no right, but he couldn’t help himself. “So that’s why you didn’t want to answer. You have a secret.”

She blew out a long breath. “We all have secrets, Jared! Do you realize that I’m friendly with everyone here except you. The second I walked onto Nirvana Ranch, you flashed that come-hither smile, bringing me a flower and opening doors for me, assuming I’d be like every other female and fall at your dusty boots. It all seems like a strategic move in your manipulative game of seduction. You just can’t take that your charm doesn’t work on everyone—anyone with a bit of brains in her head.”

He was stumped. He’d never lacked in a snarky comeback, except for now. “Looks like you have me pegged, darlin’.”

She stomped across the room, but suddenly stopped, turned and marched back. “I’ll take this.” She grabbed her half-full bottle and stormed toward the exit.

He watched her and knew he should just let her leave. Her impression of him was poor and he couldn’t change that, not that he even wanted to at this point. Yet, seeing her walk away penetrated his gut and he ached to draw her back, convince her of the truth. He’d never given any woman flowers except for Sofie. The first time he tried to be a gentleman it was slammed back in his face. The idea angered him. In a huff, he took off after her down the hallway. “You’re the reason why men no longer have chivalry.” Once the words were out guilt slithered through him. Hell, when was the last time he’d felt guilty? Damn woman was driving him insane! He jumped in front of the door before she could place her long, slender fingers on the knob.

“What are you doing? Move out of my way, now!” Her eyes narrowed and she could have cut a diamond in half with the invisible lasers.

“We both went a little too far,” he said.

“A little? What are you measuring with? The size of your monster ego?”