Cowgirl Crazy (#2, Cowboy Way) (11 page)

Ryan grabbed her arm. “Twy—what the hell do
you think you’re doing?”

Her eyebrows lifted, then fell over her angry
blue eyes. She jerked her arm from his grasp and stepped closer to
Boss Hog. “I’m
working
,” she grated through her teeth, then
glared at him. “And you’re about to go to jail!”

“
Working!?!”
Ryan
screeched, waving his hands at her half-naked body. “Is this what
you do for a living now? If it is, I sure wouldn’t be calling the
cops if I were you.”

Boss Hog grunted and took a step toward him,
but Ryan pinned him with a hot look. He lifted his hands and backed
up, which was a damned good thing. Ryan’s hands fisted at his sides
as his gaze swung back to Twyla. “How much is he paying you and
what for?” he demanded, angrier and more disgusted than he’d ever
been in his life. He definitely didn’t know the woman standing
there dressed like a whore with half-a-pound of makeup caked on her
face, the one who obviously was half of the main course on Boss
Hog’s menu tonight.

“
A thousand dollars, and you’re
not about to make us lose that,” Heather said giving Ryan’s
shoulder a push. Her other hand flew up out of her purse, but this
time he was ready for it. He grabbed her wrist and shoved her hand
aside, just as a stream of liquid shot out of the end. He inhaled a
little of the mist and coughed, his eyes burned too, but at least
he didn’t get the full brunt of the spray like he had the other
night.

Ryan squeezed Heather’s wrist until her hand
opened and the canister clattered to the ground. He kicked it over
the edge of the balcony with his boot, then let her hand go to wipe
his on his jeans. Pinning her with a glare, he grated through his
teeth, “Lady, that’s the last time you’re going to spray me with
that stuff, or I’ll be the one calling the cops. Now, you go do
whatever you were going to do with Boss Hog here, but Twyla is
staying here with me.”

“
I’ll go where I damn well—” Twyla
started, but Ryan shut her up with a glare.

Heather took a step back and rubbed her wrist.
“He paid us both, and she agreed to go.”

“
Well, she’s not going,” Ryan said
flatly, then nodded at Twyla. “Give him the money back,
Twyla.”

Twyla folded her arms over her barely covered
breasts. A damned sports bra with pushup pads was not outerwear,
but Twyla Taylor didn’t seem to know that. She was about to find
out, because this crazy cowgirl and him were about to come to a
meeting of the minds, even though it was obvious she’d lost
hers.

“
Heather has a check.”

“
Then tear it up, and write her
another one,” he said to Boss Hog who didn’t seem to be inclined to
get in the middle of this situation. A very smart move on his part
considering Ryan’s mood.

Twyla unfolded her arms, and stomped her boot.
“I need that damned money, Ryan! I’m going! We’re just dancing,
it’s not like we’re…um….”

“
Having a threesome?” Heather
supplied with a lifted brow and a smug smile for Ryan. Twyla didn’t
know the term, but Heather sure did. That woman was experienced.
She knew exactly what Ryan had been thinking. And that made it even
worse that Twyla was staying with her, being influenced. The sly
look in Heather’s cat green eyes said this woman had been there and
done a lot of things in her lifetime. She could probably teach Ryan
a trick or two.

Boss Hog cleared his throat, then stepped
around Heather. “I’ll be in the truck. Y’all decide what you’re
going to do.” He eyed Ryan warily as he sidestepped him, then his
boot heels echoed as they struck the concrete on his way to the
stairs.

“
You going or stayin?” Heather
asked Twyla.

Her eyes slid to Ryan then back to Heather. “I
need the money.”

Twyla took one step toward the stairs, but
Ryan grabbed her arm. Desperate and beyond angry at her, Ryan said,
“I’ll pay you twice the money to stay here with me.” He had that
much in his wallet and couldn’t think of a better way to spend
it.

Twyla snorted, and with a challenging look
said, “Since when do you have a thousand bucks in your
wallet?”

“
Since I won and left after my
last ride to come here and save your crazy ass. I haven’t had a
chance to go to the bank.”

Twyla lifted that stubborn chin of hers. The
one with the little notch in the center that always made him want
to lick it. Her eyebrow lifted, over her heavily made up eyes. “I
don’t need saving. I’m perfectly fine…and I don’t want your
money.”

“
Well that’s too damned bad,
sugar, because you’re getting it.” Ryan grabbed her wrist and
pulled her toward the door as she dug in her heels trying to stop.
He twisted the knob and flung open the door. “My money is as green
as his, and I’m a lot better looking. Should be easier on you
fucking me than him.”

Heather laughed loudly, but Twyla fought
harder, pulling against his grasp with all her might. Ryan grabbed
her around the waist and dragged her inside. As he slammed the
door, he heard Heather say, “Y’all have fun, I may not be home
tonight,”

He rounded on Twyla, who was standing near the
sofa looking like a mad, wet hen. Shoving his hand into his back
pocket, he pulled out his wallet and rifled through it. He pulled
out ten, crisp hundred dollar bills and tossed them on the floor at
her feet. Ryan was about to teach Twyla a valuable lesson. One he
hoped she remembered for a very long time.

Twyla wanted to be that kind of woman? Well,
he was going to show her what that really meant. What she would
have faced if she had gotten in the truck with that asshole. If she
chose to live this kind of lifestyle. At least he was a safer way
for her to learn that lesson. Considering his mood though, that
might not be the case.

“
Get naked,” he grated coldly as
he flipped the locks on the door.

“
I’m not getting naked,” she said
indignantly, as she stomped toward the front door. I’m
leaving.”

Ryan grabbed her around the waist and carried
her back toward the sofa. He set her on her feet then sat on the
sofa. “I paid you the thousand bucks, remember? Now you’re going to
give me my money’s worth.” He took off his hat and tossed it on the
side table, then unbuttoned his jeans and stroked himself. “You
want to dance? Do it. For a thousand bucks, you’re going to do that
naked. I want to see what I paid for.”

Twyla stood there still as a statute, her eyes
as wide as saucers.

“
What’s wrong,
Daisy
?” Ryan
asked snidely, as he unzipped his jeans. “You feel cheap?” Her eyes
got wider, and her lower lip trembled, but he was determined not to
let it affect him.

Twyla needed this lesson, and he needed some
fucking stress relief. This woman had him tied in knots for ten
years. He’d just paid her a thousand bucks to work out some of
those knots. “Trust me when I tell you you’re not. I’ve been here
and done this many times, and you are about as expensive as I’ve
ever had. Now get to it.”

CHAPTER
EIGHT

Ryan notched his chin at the bills. “Pick ‘em
up—they’re yours.”

Her eyes dropped to the bills and seemed to be
fixed there. “I don’t want your money, Ryan,” she said in a
deflated voice.

“
You wanted Boss Hog’s…you said
you
needed
it,” he growled. “Show me how bad you need it,
Twyla. Pick ‘em up, and get undressed. Earn your money. I’m getting
tired of waiting.”

He knew he was being rough and cold with her,
and doing it made him sick at his stomach. Treating her like the
dancers he’d paid at those strip clubs he visited on the road, made
him sick. But that was the only way he was going to get through to
her. To treat her exactly how she was acting. His heart wasn’t in
it, but his body damned sure was. The thought of having her hover
over him, her heat teasing him, made his dick grow thick under his
palm.

Excitement buzzed along his nerve endings as
he stroked himself, waiting for her to move. Her eyes shot up to
his and there was fear there now. Her face was a mask of
embarrassed shock. Good, she needed to be ashamed. Maybe Twyla
finally realized exactly what she’d been doing by dancing at that
bar, the life she was buying into. There was no way Ryan was
letting her off the hook that easily though. He wanted to make
damned sure she didn’t forget this lesson tomorrow
morning.

She gnawed her lower lip, then finally bent to
gather up the money. She stuffed the bills into the pocket of her
almost non-existent shorts, then stood. Spearing him with her eyes,
she folded her arms over her chest, and the corner of her mouth
kicked up smugly. “That should be insurance enough that I don’t
tell Zack about this and get your ass kicked.”

Blackmail? Well, two could play her game. She
had more to lose than he did, really. “And I’m paying you for
something I could get for free if I threatened to tell your folks
what you’re up to…to tell Zack,” he challenged with a lifted brow.
“If I were you, sugar, I’d be thankful. I’d also get undressed and
start dancing, before I change my mind and make that
call.”

Twyla didn’t move, but her body tensed as she
thought about it. It looked like he needed to up the ante some, and
Ryan knew just what button to push. “And then there’s always
Grandma Sibley. I’m sure she’d be extremely interested in what her
precious granddaughter is up to here in the big city.”

Twyla gasped and her face went chalk white.
“You wouldn’t…”

“
Oh, yes I would. All of the
above,” he said calmly, with a smug smile of his own.

Twyla wasn’t smiling now. Her hands trembled
as she fumbled with the button on her shorts. She shot him an angry
glare as she jerked the two inch zipper to the bottom then shoved
her shorts over her hips. His eyes followed the worn denim down her
long legs until they reached her ankles. Slowly his gaze glided
upward until he met her hurt, angry eyes. “That thong isn’t going
to do you any good. Drop it.”

“
I’m not taking off my panties,”
she said firmly, covering her lower body with her hands.

Ryan leaned up on the sofa and shoved his hand
into his pocket. When he pulled his hand out holding his cell
phone, she growled and hooked her thumbs into the thin black
elastic at her hips and pushed them down. Ryan couldn’t stop his
eyes from locking on the soft blonde fluff at the apex of her
thighs. He also couldn’t help his body going rock hard as the need
to see her soft, wet center slammed into him. She stood there
staring at him with accusation and hatred in her icy blue eyes. If
they were laser beams he’d be frozen solid where he sat.

Swallowing hard, he tried to regulate his
uneven breathing, slow his galloping heart. “Take your top off,” he
instructed, cringing at the rusty quality to his voice.

“
I don’t have on a bra,” she
informed gruffly.

“
I know that. You’re wearing it as
a damned top. Take it off. I think you know what naked means,
Twyla. You were halfway there before you started
undressing.”

Her hands shook harder as she grabbed the band
of the sports bra. She stopped and the shaking encompassed her
whole body, even her lower lip trembled. “Don’t make me do this,
Ryan,” she begged, her voice barely above a whisper.

“
This is what I paid you for,
Twyla. What you were willing to do for Boss Hog’s money too.
There’s no difference. Now, take your damned top off!” Her eyes
filled, and Ryan fought the sickness in his gut. She spun around
giving him a nice view of her round ass, while she fought to get
the top over her head. She finally got it and tossed it to the
side.

“
I can’t dance without music,” she
said, and he heard the wobble in her voice.

Twyla Taylor was one of the strongest women he
knew. He had never seen her cry before, and didn’t want to see it
now. It would kill him to be the cause of it. Ryan didn’t want to
break her, he just wanted to teach her a lesson.

“
Suck it up buttercup. This is
what you choose to do for money. I paid you, now act like a
professional and shake your ass for me,” he said coldly as he got
up from the sofa. He picked up the remote for the television. He
turned it on and scrolled down until he found the country music
channel, then tossed it back on the table and sat back
down.

And wasn’t it just appropriate that Luke
Bryan’s Country Girl was playing?

Ryan pushed the button on the remote to turn
up the volume, so he didn’t have to hear her sniffling. He had to
get through this, and he wouldn’t be able to if he heard her
crying.

“
Nice ass. Now turn around and
show me your tits,” Ryan ordered, flinching at using that term with
a woman he used to have the ultimate respect for. Never in his life
had he ever said that to a woman, especially in that way. But Twyla
needed to know this is what she could expect from paying customers
if she didn’t get the hell away from here. Ryan was determined to
get her out of here. If this was the only way he could make that
happen, then he would do it. “Do it, Twyla,” he growled then held
up the cell phone. “Or if you want to back out I have Grandma
Sibley on speed dial.”