Cowboy Payback (7 page)

“Everything okay?”

Not anymore.

The soft, husky timber of her voice awoke the sleeping giant. He shifted his stance to accommodate the sudden thickening in his jeans and noted the sexy woman’s location. Not good. A spark of anger replaced the guilt settled in his gut.

“Get up,” he replied, tone more clipped than he’d intended.

A second later, he was ready to belay that order.

Scrambling from the pullout sofa, the corporal stood before him in nothing but a gray T-shirt that hit mid-thigh with a Marine Corps logo on the chest. A
braless
chest. One with a mouth-watering bounce. And two perky nipples.

Ah, hell.

Then there was the matter of her legs, all bare and curvy, soft and supple, begging for a caress. They didn’t beg, but he sure as hell wanted to touch them, starting at the ankle, slowly making his way up to her…

“Sir? What’s wrong?”

He barely held back a snort. Wrong? Oh nothing, except he was turned on. Extremely aroused. Hard. As. Hell. Other than that, he was peachy.

Which was ridiculous. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t had sex in a while. Hell, he’d had some last night, several times, in the arms of a willing woman passing through Amarillo. He’d met her at the Lonesome Steer. They danced, shared some laughs and a few beers before ending up at the hotel where they’d knocked boots. And this morning, she’d thanked him for his service by doing some incredible things with her mouth. So, this massive hard on biting into his zipper right now was insane.

“Get in my bed.”

Chapter Five

Damn
. That came out wrong. Sort of. Brett’s whole body tightened at the image those words created, and an instant later, he recalled Trisha’s taste, hot, giving, demanding, and the way the corporal had melted against him when they’d kissed in the driveway. That wicked tongue of hers, and how she’d boldly explored his mouth.

“What?” she squeaked.

He inhaled, then let it out slowly. “Take the bed. I get the couch.”

Damn woman shook her head and walked to him. Why the hell was she coming close? Didn’t she realize he had his hands jammed in his pockets to keep from grabbing her curves?

“That’s silly,” she said, stopping in front of him, indignation flying off her like welder sparks in the night. “Look at the difference.” She stood toe-to-toe, poking him in the throat where the top of her head reached.

Without her boots, the corporal wasn’t as tall as he was used to,
hell
, he could rest his chin on her head. Why she appeared petite and delicate, inspiring a desire to protect and keep her safe, he had no idea. She was a marine. A very capable marine. And yet…

“It’s stupid for you to take the couch when I’m much shorter, sir.” Blue eyes, clear and heated, stared up at him.

Christ
. She was killing him. With some of her hair falling out of her ponytail, that thin, damn T-shirt barely covering her sweet spot, those eyes. So blue. So earnest. And her luscious, full lips? Heat skittered down his spine as he recalled how they’d felt under his—soft, warm…hungry. Yeah, she was killing him.

In a desperate attempt to hold onto his control, he stepped around the tempting woman and strode to the sofa. He couldn’t seem to think when she stood so close. It was damned annoying. He sank onto the mattress she’d vacated and proceeded to remove his boots.

“What are you doing?” She twisted around and glared.

“Getting ready for bed. What’s it look like?” he asked, without glancing at her. No way was he going to peek at her peaks.

He peeked at her peaks.

Shit
.

His erection twitched in a painful salute to her sexiness.

“But I was sleeping there.”

He gave his head a slight shake and cleared his throat. “You’re right. You
were
.”

She glared at him for a full thirty seconds more, chest rising and falling, nipples pushing against the material, testing his strength. His dwindling strength.

Mouth watering at the thought of drawing one of her delectable tips inside to tease with his tongue, he clenched his fist to combat the itch to touch the other. But part of his brain balked. This was wrong. She was one of his marines.

Disgusted with his lack of control, Brett grasped the bottom of his shirt and ripped it off over his head, effectively breaking eye contact with her hotness.

“Your chivalry is noted, Captain, but be reasonable,” damn woman continued to protest. “You and I both know I’ve slept in much, much worse. I was quite happy on the sofa.”

“You’re right. You were,” he repeated, his control nearing depletion.
Irreparable damage imminent
. He drew in a breath through clenched teeth. “Take the damn bed, Corporal.”

She shook her head.

Son of a…

Jaw cracking, he counted to five. Time to intimidate.

“You want to sleep here? Fine. We’ll share.” He rose to his feet and stared at her while he shucked off his jeans. Pure male satisfaction heated his blood when her gaze zeroed in on his obvious erection, then smoldered with an appreciative gleam he felt to the hilt. “But let me make one thing clear. There won’t be a lot of sleeping involved.”

His heart nearly knocked a hole in his chest when she appeared to take a step toward him.

But then she let out a strangled groan, mumbling about stupidity and alphas and other nonsense as she stomped to his bed. Heaven help him, his heart literally stopped when she drew the covers back and crawled on the mattress, giving him a brief glimpse of blue lace and one sweet-as-sin ass.

He stifled another groan. It was going to be one hell of a long night.

Finn’s going to pay for this
.

****

Morning came in the blink of an eye. Trisha stretched wide and yawned big.

Note to self: Thank the captain for insisting I take the bed.

A massive cushion of comfort. Once she’d slipped between the sheets last night, a cocoon of warmth and solace had wrapped around her body, and she’d fallen fast asleep. And stayed asleep. First time in over six months. She sat up with a start, chunk of unsecured hair flopping in front of her face.

Wow.

Pushing the clump out of her eyes, she smiled. No nightmares. Disembodied voices. Screams. Nothing. Just blissful oblivion. Solitude. Heaven.

But not for the captain. She shot her gaze to the sofa, not surprised to find it empty. Poor guy, no doubt, had a restless night. The sheets were tossed and half-pulled out on one side of the cushions. Served him right. She tried to get him to let her sleep on the smaller space. Her body fit fine. His had to hang over a good foot. Her insides twisted.

Chivalry-minded idiot.

What good did it do him to toss all night when they both could’ve gotten a decent night’s sleep? His last words filtered through her groggy mind.
“But let me make one thing clear. There won’t be a lot of sleeping involved.”

A shaft of heat shot through her body, and her nipples perked at attention.
Cripes
. The man was potent. He wasn’t even present, and her body reacted as if he was two feet away.
Stupid body.

And last night, jeez, her traitorous libido had betrayed her mind by coaxing her feet to take a darn step toward the man when he’d spouted that unexpected invitation/warning. It had been all she could do to force her legs in the other direction and crawl into the empty bed.

At least one of them had had a good night’s sleep. Guilt soured her gut. She’d heard him tossing and muttering a few times before she’d zonked out.

Where is he now?

Curious to find the answer, she slipped out of bed and glanced around. He didn’t leave a note. Figures. Why did men think women could read their minds? Okay, yeah, sometimes guys were on open book, like when it came to sex.

Her body did that stupid heating thing low in the belly again. She grabbed clean clothes from where she’d hung them in the closet last night, and headed to the bathroom to take a quick shower. A cold one. Since she had no idea where Captain Brennan was, what he was doing, or when he’d return, she made haste.

Fifteen minutes later, she was dressed in jeans and a tan T-shirt, hair braided down her back, and her favorite cowboy boots hugging her feet like an old pair of slippers.

When the rumbling of her empty stomach echoed loud enough to hear over the soft hum of the air conditioner, Trisha contemplated heading to the guest ranch in search of a Bugsby breakfast. If last night’s entrée was anything to go by, then she was sure to be satisfied by whatever the chef prepared in the mornings. But she didn’t know if the captain had eaten in the dining hall and made some sort of excuse for her absence. She didn’t want to make him look bad.

Why should she care?

Sexy, darn…marine
.

It was his fault she had no clue what was going on today. She had intended to ask him what their game plan was last night, but no. His nearly naked body and…and tented boxers had all her nerve endings quivering and mind fogging. Then he tossed out that tempting invitation, and those darn words had knocked what remained of her thought process into next week.

Arousal had fluttered to life, like now, reminding her how it felt to want a man. Funny, she didn’t remember the ache feeling so strong.

With a shake of her head and a huff of disgust, she swiped a banana from the fruit bowl on the counter and proceeded to peel the skin. Of its own accord, her gaze wandered to the night stand. She was not going to think about the box of large condoms or the fact the size hadn’t been a joke. Last night’s tenting proved the captain had the correct proportion…

She groaned.
Darn it
. She should not be thinking those thoughts about her commanding officer.

Too late. She was thinking those thoughts, eating her banana, and cursing her captain for causing the deep need. The situation was stupid. She was acting stupid.

Well, no more.

She came to Royal Pines to relax and enjoy herself, and that was exactly what she planned to do.

Starting right now.

Trisha tossed the banana peel in the garbage and strode out the door.

Since she had no idea where the captain was, she decided to worry about herself and concentrate on her
own
agenda. First thing on the list was to apologize to Mrs. Brennan and Terry for dragging them into her mess. Turning her back to the guest ranch, she headed east along the dirt road that led in the direction of the stables and main house she’d visited two months ago. Her inner GPS confirmed the location.

Wildflowers colored the land and jutted out of the grass, framing the sides of the road in a burst of blues and yellows. Trisha picked several as she walked, her fingers twisting the stems together in an attempt to fashion a bracelet like the ones she’d often made in her youth.

The abundance of flowers and length of the walk had her creation growing from bracelet to necklace. With a smile tugging her lips, she proudly placed the flower ring over her head, mindful of her braid, then continued to head to the stables now visible in the distance.

Puffy, cotton-ball clouds, moving slowly with the slight breeze, dotted the vivid, blue sky overhead. The air was already hot, despite the midmorning hour, but Trisha lifted her face toward the sun and enjoyed the feel of the rays beating down on her skin. There was nothing like a natural dose of vitamin D on a leisurely stroll in the country.

Closing her eyes, she inhaled the sweet smell of pine and listened to the wind rustling through the trees and the soft sound of hooves pounding the earth. Heaven. This was what she needed. Calm. Serene. Quiet.

“Where are you going?”

Halting, she opened her eyes with a start and twisted around to watch the captain approach on a magnificent palomino. The horse’s golden coat, blond mane and tail, and big brown eyes were striking.

“What a beauty,” she said, standing still with her hand out, pleased when the horse moved close to catch her scent. When he nuzzled her palm, she smiled and stoked his broad nose. “You are a big one, aren’t you, boy?” She glanced up at the captain. “What is he? Seventeen hands, sir?”

Shock raised his brow as he nodded. “Yes.”

She laughed. “Don’t look so surprised. I told you I’ve been around horses most of my life. And to answer your question, I’m heading to see your mother.”

“Uh, Corporal,” he said, dismounting, gaze suddenly cautious and a bit anxious. “How do you feel about spiders?”

Spiders?
Eww.

She shivered. Just hearing the word gave her the creeps.

“I hate them. With a passion.” She shivered again, her heart growing heavy and pounding hard in her chest as he continued to step closer.

“Then don’t move.”

For him to say that and come closer…that meant…

Ohmygod…ohmygod…oh my God!

Before she could completely panic, she watched his large hand reach up and flick something off her right shoulder.

Then
she panicked.

In one swift move, she ripped off her T-shirt along with the floral necklace, threw them in the dirt, then scrambled several feet away. “Is it off? Are there any more? If there are, get them off me, sir,” she pleaded, glancing at her body, rubbing her hands over her skin now crawling with imaginary critters.

“Hey, hey…calm down, Corporal. It’s okay. It’s gone.” He grasped her shoulders and forced her to stare at him. “You’re fine.”

Fine?
Hell no
, she wasn’t fine. She was far from fine. “A spider was just
on
me. And who knows for how long? I made that necklace a while ago. It could’ve laid eggs, or built a web. Oh my God…did it?” She tried to twist around, but he held tight.

“No. You’re fine,” he repeated, hands squeezing her bare shoulders. “I knocked it off, remember?”

That’s right. He knocked it off. Which meant it was on the ground. But so were her feet. Lunging at the nearest thing, she climbed off the ground, then heaved a sigh.

She was safe.

“Ah…Corporal? What the hell are you doing on my back?”

“Keeping off the ground, sir,” she replied without missing a beat. So, she was on his back. There was no room in her panicked brain to worry about embarrassment.