Wildcard (6 page)

“Never.” Trace shook her head, her hair sliding over her back with the movement. “But I—I have fantasized about it.”

Jess relaxed. He’d damn sure be the only man who’d do it, too. He increased the motion of his finger, and she rocked her hips back and forth and rode his hand. “You’ve played with toys…stuck a dildo or two up your ass, haven’t you?” he asked, and stopped the motion of his finger but kept it lodged inside her.

“Yes.” A whimper escaped Trace’s throat. “Don’t stop, Jess.”

“I’m not through with you yet.” Jess slipped his finger out and then in the next instant, he scooped Trace up.

She gasped as she found herself suddenly on her back in his embrace, and she threw her arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”

Instead of answering her question, he eased onto the underwater bench in the hot tub and cradled her in his lap. He fondled one of her nipples with his thumb, and she squirmed on his lap. “Why’d you run out on me last night?”

Trace moaned, so incredibly aroused from what he’d been doing to her just seconds ago. “I—dang. I can’t even think when you do that.”

Jess gave a soft chuckle. “Try.”

“Fear.” She swallowed, her eyes heavy-lidded as her arousal grew. “I was afraid if I stayed around you, something would happen. Something like this.”

“What’s wrong with what we’re doing?” he asked softly.

“You know.” She could feel heat rise in her cheeks. “This is cheating. That kiss last night was cheating.”

“It’s not cheating when you’re movin’ on.” He held her tighter with one arm and continued his exploration of her body with his other hand. “He’s not right for you.”

Her gaze met his as she tried to straighten in his arms. “You’ve never even met Harold.”

Jess grinned. “Harold?”

Trace tilted her head up and glared at him. “He’s a great guy. Kind, gentle, thoughtful.”

“You’re too passionate a woman for kind and gentle.” Jess slid his palm down her flat belly toward her mound and felt her tremble beneath his touch. “After awhile you’d feel bored and trapped. Wouldn’t be fair to either one of you.”

Frowning, she placed her palm on his bare chest, like she was bracing herself. “You don’t even know me.”

“Better than you think.” One hand rested on her belly as he slipped the other into her hair and rubbed the base of her scalp in a slow, sensuous movement. “You’re confident in your work, but insecure in yourself. You’re sexy and gorgeous, but you don’t even realize how beautiful you are.” When she dropped her jaw in surprise, he gave her a smile. “The time I first saw your eyes, it was plain as day.”

Trace stared at Jess, amazed and unable to speak for a moment. The churning waters of the hot tub filled her ears along with the sound of her own heartbeat. “We just met.”

“The pictures Dee keeps in the family room.” He gently continued massaging the back of her head as the jets caressed her body. “Months ago when I saw those photos of you, I thought you’d be worth getting to know real well.”

Prickles raced along her skin. “Who
are
you?”

“Foreman for the Flying M.” He shrugged. “Been here ‘bout six months.”

“You live and work here?” Trace clenched her fist against his chest, her thoughts spinning. “At the ranch?”

The corner of his mouth quirked and he nodded. “Uh-huh.”

Oh, lord.

“That’s just great.” She rested her head against his muscled chest. “That’s like leaving Eve in the garden of Eden. Irresistible temptation within walking distance.”

Jess chuckled, his chest vibrating beneath her ear. “Irresistible, huh?”

Shifting on his lap, she felt the hard insistence of his cock pressed against her ass, and could hardly form a coherent thought for a moment. What if he slid into her tight rear hole and fucked her now?

Taking a deep breath, she said, “I don’t know what it is, but you make me forget everything.” She leaned back and tilted her head to look at him. “Except you. All I can think about is you. And I barely even know you, Jess Lawless.”

“That’s as good a start as any.” He adjusted her in his lap, turning her so that she was straddling him, his cock pressed against the soft curls of her mound. “For now I want to see you come again.”

She laced her fingers around his neck and arched her back as he leaned down to flick his tongue over her nipple. The damp ends of her hair rubbed over her back as she moaned and squirmed on his lap, against his erection…dying to feel him inside her, yet hesitating to take that step, to cross that boundary.

Jess slid his forefinger between her thighs as he licked and sucked and gently bit her nipples. Harder he stroked her clit, bringing her closer to yet another orgasm.

“I can hardly wait to be inside you, Trace,” he murmured against one nipple. “I want to thrust into your pussy and fuck you now so bad I can taste it.”

“Yes,” Trace whispered as she rode his fingers. “You’re so big. You’ll feel so good.”

He groaned and bit harder at her nipple, causing Trace to cry out with the pleasure and the pain of his teeth sinking into her soft flesh. His cock pressed against her belly as his hand worked her clit, and she wondered when he was going to slide inside her.

Deep. Hard. Fast.

Just the thought was enough to push her over the edge. A furious climax stole her breath and all her senses, going on and on until she collapsed against his chest.

She expected him to raise her up, to drive his cock into her core.

Instead it sounded as though he was speaking through clenched teeth as he said, “I’ve got to go before I lose what’s left of my control.”

“What?” Trace rose up to look at him, but he grasped her waist with his big hands, moved her aside and set her on the bench. “What are you doing?” she asked as he strode out of the hot tub.

He snatched the towel off the deck chair and rubbed it over his body. Even while she was confused by his sudden actions, she couldn’t help but admire his muscled body.

Talk about prime choice cowboy ass!

But when he started to yank on his jeans, she scrambled out of the hot tub to stand beside him, water trailing over her body and pooling about her feet.

“You’re gonna catch a chill,” he muttered, taking the now damp towel and rubbing it over her shoulders. “I intended to grab a fresh towel for you.”

Conflicting emotions stormed through her. Was he rejecting her now that he knew she wanted him? Was that why he was leaving? Yet he was rubbing the towel over her so gently, and instinctively she knew this man didn’t play games.

“Why are you getting dressed?” she asked as he dried her thighs, the soft hair of her mound, and on down to her calves.

“If I stay around you any longer I’m going to fuck you, sugar,” he all but growled.

“Isn’t that what we both want?” she whispered.

Only the sound of the bubbling hot tub and a smattering of chirping crickets were her response. Jess stood, grabbed her bathrobe off the deckchair, helped her slip it on, then tied the sash with a rough tug.

“When I make love to you,” he finally said, his voice still rough with desire, “no man is gonna come between us.” He caught her cheeks in his calloused palms and forced her to look at him. “No doubts. No fears. No regrets. Understand?”

Trace nodded, unable to speak. Barely able to think.

Jess gave her a quick, fierce kiss, then grabbed his boots and t-shirt and strode into the house without looking back.

Chapter Six

Cool December winds brushed Trace’s cheeks as she strolled across the yard toward the barn. She loved how mild the winters were here, and surprisingly she liked how dry it was, too. Although she loved it there, England could get a little rainy and dreary at times.

She still couldn’t believe what had happened two nights ago at the hot tub. Every time she thought about Jess—naked and doing the things he’d been doing to her—her stomach twisted and her body had an instant reaction. She swore she was walking around with permanently soaked panties and her nipples poking through her t-shirt like someone had stuck jelly beans in her bra.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a couple of cowboys at the corrals, but she refused to look outright to see if Jess might be there. Of course she knew she really didn’t have to
see
him to know whether or not he was near. If he had been, she’d have been able to sense him, to
feel
his presence.

When she reached the shadowed interior of the barn, Trace paused for a moment to allow her eyes to become accustomed to the dark. The old alarm bell still hung where it always had been, right at the barn’s entrance. That thing would wake the dead, her dad had always said. It was painted gold and kind of looked like a church bell, only smaller. And much louder, according to her father.

Scents of alfalfa hay and sweet grain washed over her, along with odors of horse and liniment. Every smell was unique and brought back individual memories from all the years she’d grown up here.

When she’d come into the barn yesterday to practice her kickboxing in the storage room, and to see her old mare Dancer, she’d been surrounded by countless memories from her childhood. She’d worked up a good sweat while kickboxing, practicing her kicks, punches, and jabs, enjoying being back at the ranch. That feeling of being home had wrapped around her like a warm blanket, making her feel relaxed and secure.

But England was home now. She didn’t
want
the Flying M to feel like home. She had success and everything that went along with it, including a promising future.

Trace wandered toward the ranch office that was close to the barn entrance and her thoughts turned to Jess. He hadn’t been back to the house since the experience in the hot tub, and she’d been both thankful and disappointed. Every time someone came to the front door her heart would start pounding, and she’d expect it to be Jess, but he’d stayed away. Maybe he was too busy, or maybe he was having second thoughts about pursuing her.

Wow.
Just the thought of that man pursuing her never failed to give her a little shiver down the small of her back. Somehow she didn’t think he was the type to give up when he’d found something he wanted. And
wow
, he wanted
her.

Yesterday she’d watched him from the back door of the barn, keeping to the shadows, but she’d been close enough to hear his deep voice, to see the powerful flex of his muscles beneath his denim western work shirt. If only she’d been able to see those incredible blue eyes…but they’d been hidden by his black Stetson.

Jess had been instructing a younger ranch hand, helping the teenager train his horse for roundup. She’d been impressed with how patiently Jess had worked with the boy, never acting a bit frustrated when the teenager made some real greenhorn mistakes. Jess had just taken the boy right through each step again.

Trace smiled at the Christmas wreath hanging on the door of the barn office as she let herself in. Dee certainly got into the holiday spirit all over the ranch. The heavy oak door silently closed behind Trace on well-oiled hinges as she headed to the huge desk. That desk had been around since the days of the old west, when her great-great grandpa MacLeod had claimed this stretch of land for the Flying M. The surface of the desk was glossy from years of use and smelled of lemon oil that her sister probably used to keep it in such beautiful condition.

The room was paneled in rich oak, and the leather couch and chair were all in a deep ox blood brown. It was much like it had always been, but she could see Dee’s touch in the gingham curtains at the rooms only window, and in the small Christmas tree on the table between the couch and overstuffed chair. Family photos were in here, too, and it touched Trace to see that her sister had pictures of all of them close to her when she worked.

To the left of the desk were a couple of huge file cabinets, along with a computer station where Dee kept all the ranch records and did payroll. Best of all, it had internet access.

Before Trace sat down to check her e-mail, she reached for the bottle of hand lotion perched on one corner of the old oak desk. She squirted a generous amount of the thick stuff onto her hands and rubbed it into her dry skin. The lotion smelled like brown sugar and vanilla, a warm, comforting scent.

After she’d wiped the excess off her fingers with a tissue from a box on the desk, Trace perched on the swivel chair in front of the computer workstation. Dee had really brought the ranch a long way into the future. Their dad had never bothered with computers, but after Dee went to college and came home to take over the ranch, she made some big changes—all for the better.

When Trace downloaded her e-mail, she scanned her inbox and bit her lower lip when she came to an e-mail from Harold, sent just hours ago. For a moment she hesitated, almost afraid to open it, as if he’d already know what she’d done with a certain blue-eyed cowboy. No, she hadn’t fucked him, but as guilty as she felt, she might as well have.

Funny thing was that up until now she had only felt confused, and not like she’d done something wrong.

Like it had been meant to happen.

Like maybe she and Harold weren’t meant to be together after all.

She took a deep breath and opened the e-mail from Harold and could almost hear his refined British accent in his post:

Dearest Tracilynn,

I miss you, love. Haven’t received word from you since your arrival in Tucson three days ago. Did you make it safely to your sister’s home? If I do not hear from you by ten tonight, I shall call.

I look forward to joining you in Arizona at Christmas.

H

Trace stared at the message for a few moments, not really seeing it at all. In place of Harold’s aristocratic looks, sandy blond hair, and his warm brown eyes, she saw a dark and dangerous man in a black Stetson…

Shaking her head, like that might work to shake loose the image of Jess, Trace hit the reply button. She wasn’t ready to talk to Harold in person, not yet, and wanted to make sure he didn’t call. She didn’t know what to say, and there was no way she could talk to him until she figured everything out.

If that was even possible.

But she would call him, and soon. She just needed a few more days.

Chicken
.

Trace responded with a short e-mail, telling Harold that she’d arrived and was still recovering from jetlag, and that she planned to call him the following weekend.

Pushing thoughts of Harold aside, she ran through the rest of her messages. All work related e-mails she ignored since she was on vacation, and just read the personal notes. She was pleased to see one from Lani Stanton, who sounded positive despite the rough divorce she was going through. If anyone deserved a good man, it was that girl.

When she came to Gail’s note, Trace had to laugh out loud. Her next door neighbor in London was a hoot, and she kept trying to get Trace to read erotic romance e-books. Trace hadn’t had a chance to visit the romantica site yet, but she’d just have to break down and do it. Especially after what she’d experienced with Jess.

Trace closed her eyes for a moment, trying to block out those images, but it only made them stronger. Her fingers moved to her ear out of habit, and she played with her earrings as she visualized Jess as he had been the night at the hot tub. She could almost smell his spicy aftershave, his unique masculine scent and could almost feel the heat of his body close to hers—

The door slammed shut behind Trace, shattering her fantasy.

Her eyelids popped open and she swiveled on the seat and saw that it was her sister. The disappointment she felt that it wasn’t Jess caught her off guard. “No fair sneaking up on me like that,” Trace said.

With a mischievous grin, Dee plopped down onto the overstuffed leather couch, and tossed a bundle of mail onto the cushion beside her. “Ran into Catie at the Safeway grocery store in town. We figured a game of cards might be fun this Saturday night. Poker. You up for it?”

“Sure.” Trace tried to muster up some enthusiasm. At least it would get her mind off of Jess for a while.

Dee glanced at the computer. “Checking in with your boyfriend?”

With a shrug, Trace said, “Yeah.”

Cocking her head to one side, Dee asked, “Something wrong? You don’t seem all that enthusiastic.”

Trace forced a smile and shook her head. “Just a bit of jetlag.”

“Take a nap. Get some rest, kiddo.” Dee scooped up the pile of mail and started flipping through the pieces as she spoke. “I didn’t expect you to help out with the chores. And here you’ve already mucked out Imp’s and Dancer’s stalls, not to mention cleaning out the back storage room.”

“Hey, Jake set up that punching bag for me there, so it was the least I could do.” Trace smiled. “And besides, it’s kinda nice to do those things again.”

The corner of Dee’s mouth quirked. “Then by all means…” Her voice trailed off and her expression turned puzzled as she held up a postcard. She flipped it over, and then her face paled, her fingers going to her throat in that all too familiar movement that told Trace her sister was upset about something.

“What’s the matter?” Trace said, even as she moved from her chair to slide onto the couch beside her sister.

“I’ll have to tell Jake.” Dee shook her head, her lips pursed. “This is a bunch of bullshit.”

Trace reached for the card and Dee let it slip from her fingers. As Trace looked over the note, her sister got up and started pacing the floor.

On one side was an odd design of letters within letters. A capital B in red was a kind of border, and then a Capital I in green was a little smaller in the middle, and then a T in blue a tad smaller than that. And to the left side of the T was a yellow C and to the right was an orange H…

BITCH.

Trace’s skin chilled, goose bumps pebbling her skin as she turned the card over.

In a messy black scrawl was written: