Texas Men (3 page)

“Seems Tara’s in shock,” the moderator said, chuckling. “Cody, you better go get your woman.”

Cody lifted his hat off his head and bowed to the crowd as soft laughter began to filter through the crowd. He stepped down the wooden stage steps and strode toward her, his expression set.

When he stood in front of her, he lifted her chin with his crooked finger and planted a kiss on her lips that left her even more stunned and embarrassed when she didn’t demur.

Slowly she shook herself free of his spell and stepped back.

“Darlin’,” he whispered, “what are you doin’?”

Tara licked her lips and locked her gaze with his, unable to give him an answer because she didn’t have a clue.

His palm cupped her cheek, and he bent so close the rim of his cowboy hat slid across the top of her head. “Well, pretty lady, looks like I’ve got my work cut out to give you your money’s worth.”

C
ody followed in the wake of “Hurricane Tara” while she finalized her purchase, still shaking his head over the fact the woman had plunked down seven thousand dollars for a date with him.

Oscar brought her purse from behind the bar, his glance sliding warily between them.

Cody’s chin came up, daring the older man to say a word.

Oscar’s stiffening posture and black scowl blared a silent warning that Cody better not mess with his boss.

As if he’d ever do a thing to hurt her. Then again, tonight was shaping up a whole lot different than he’d envisioned when he’d showered off trail dirt before hustling to town.

Never in a hundred years would he have guessed what Tara would do. He still didn’t have a clue what was running through the stubborn woman’s mind right now. With short, savage strokes of her pen, she filled out her check, crossing a
t
with a sharp stab.

Even the ladies with the perpetual smiles manning the payment table looked on wide-eyed as the Tara thrust her check at them. No doubt, tongues would be wagging tonight.

Cody couldn’t believe she’d outted their relationship in such a public way. Tara was a private woman. She might be everyone’s best friend, the life of any party, but her private life had always been just that—
intensely private
.

Why she’d gone and done something as crazy as this was beyond his comprehension. He didn’t think she’d bid on him for the sake of a good cause, because some other woman would have happily snatched him right up. He wasn’t even sure she’d done it for the promise of pleasure—because she sure didn’t look happy at the moment.

“Don’t worry about a thing, Tara,” Oscar said, eyeing Cody with displeasure. “I’ve got everything handled here.”

Tara slipped the strap of her purse over one shoulder, nodded at Oscar, and finally turned to face Cody. “We better go.”

“Not staying for the bachelor dinner?” Meaghan chirped, her eyebrows raised high.

Oscar gave a short shake of his head, and Meaghan pressed her lips into a thin-lipped line.

Cody touched Tara’s elbow to escort her from the bar, but she rushed ahead of him, leaving him to stroll nonchalantly out while a dozen disapproving stares caused a slow burn of anger to creep down the back of his neck.

Outside he caught up with her as she opened her vehicle door. “Want me to follow you?” he asked, knowing everyone would note how late his pickup remained parked in front of the Honkytonk.

She shook her head. “Just get in.”

Once inside her silver SUV, the tension grew thick enough to cut with a butter knife. Sensing she wasn’t in the mood for conversation, he settled against the soft leather and stretched an arm out along the back of the bench seat, turning to study her.

Dressed in a “Honkytonk Hook-Up” T-shirt and bottom-hugging blue jeans, Tara’s mature figure was still trim and lithe, her breasts ripe and stretching the thin cotton. In profile, her features were striking. Not truly beautiful, definitely not cute, but strong and feminine. Her chin was a little too square, her nose a tad short and blunt, but—balanced by her big blue eyes—pleasing to a man.

Any other man would consider himself lucky to call her his. He wondered why she’d never married. Why she’d taken up with him. Maybe she prized her independence, which made sense. She had a good life. Great friends. Several honorary “nieces” and “nephews.” Maybe she’d never felt the need to change a thing. Maybe she had her own ghosts that held her back from ever wanting to share her life or expose her inner self completely to another.

Maybe they had more in common than he’d ever know.

While his fingers plucked at wavy locks of blond hair, he tried to think of ways to break the silence. Clever, sexy asides that might put a smile back on her face.

However, the frown furrowing her brows was off-putting, to say the least, so he sat silently beside her until minutes later she pulled into the drive of her one-story, white limestone ranch house.

Tara flung open her door and slid down onto the gravel drive, never once looking back to see if he followed her inside the house.

Pursing his lips, he blew a long, silent whistle, wondering what the hell had happened to get her so worked up.

Inside, warm yellow walls, Mexican art and pottery, deep leather couches, red Saltillo tiles—all blended into a warm welcome.

Tara dumped her purse onto a dark oak end table and turned her back to him, her hands settling on her hips. She inhaled deeply and then glanced over her shoulder.

Her expression arrested him. The frown bisecting her brows was still deep, but something a little wild and desperate shimmered in her eyes.

The desperate part he could certainly understand. His own body had been primed from the moment she’d raised her paddle high in the air. Something about her willingness to claim him publicly had sent a wave of heat zinging straight below his belt buckle.

Knowing he’d only court an argument if he tried to find out what burr had worked its way beneath her saddle, he strode straight for her, halting inches from the toes of her boots.

Her glance fell to his naked chest, and she sucked one corner of her bottom lip between her teeth. Her chest rose sharply, pressing her full breasts outward.

That was all the invitation he needed. He lifted his hands and cupped her soft mounds through the tee, squeezing gently, and then bent to aim a kiss at her lips.

But she turned her face away and tilted it down.

He held himself still, confused by her mixed signals. With her nipples stiffening beneath his palms, he stifled the urge to press again, waiting for her to make up her mind about what she wanted of him. “What gives?”

Her face came up to his, her gaze skimming his features and then tangling with his gaze. She shrugged, her mouth settling into a straight line. “Why are you still dressed?”

Cody tilted his head, trying to read her expression but coming up with nothing. Her gaze was steady. Her features set. So she didn’t want to talk about what was eating her. Why should he care? At least she was ready to get down to what they did best together.

He stepped back and bent to yank off his boots, unhitched his chaps, and drew them off his legs. Then he unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his blue jeans, and lowered them.

She hadn’t moved, but her gaze raked his body, pausing on his thickening cock before sweeping upward. A swallow worked the muscles of her throat, but she didn’t betray what she thought in her face. Instead she turned on her heels and walked straight down the hallway leading off the living room to her bedroom.

Cody bit back a curse, feeling foolish, but scooped his clothing off the floor and walked barefoot behind her. He was starting to get a little annoyed with her mood. Maybe she was suffering “buyer’s remorse” now that she’d had time to think about how much money she’d parted with. Although why she’d be angry with him, he didn’t know. No one had twisted her arm to bid on him.

Tara flipped the light switch inside her bedroom. Cody dumped his clothes on top of the chest at the foot of her bed and began to pull down the covers, preparing to slip inside the cool sheets and wait for her.

With a fistful of white cotton in his hand, he paused as she picked up his blue jeans from the jumble of his clothing and began searching his pockets.

“What are you doing?”

Her gaze locked with his as her hand came out of one back pocket with a business card pinched between two fingers. “Camille says call her anytime.”

“I don’t know Camille. She must have slipped it in when I was makin’ my way to the stage.”

She dropped the card on the floor and shoved her hand into one of his front pockets, drawing out three more cards. “I suppose you didn’t know they were slipping their hands into your front pockets either?”

Cody narrowed his eyes. “Kinda hard to miss when they were slidin’ up close to my dick,” he said, keeping his voice even.

“Yeah, impossible, I’d say. Did you like it?”

“Guess so, since I didn’t stop them. Seemed like it’d be a little rude.”

Her snort was accompanied by a derisive curl of her lips.

Cody raked a hand through his hair. “Why are you acting this way? It never bothered you before, the way women come on to me.”

“I expect them to. What disappoints me is that you accept it.”

His stomach tightened. He felt exposed in a way that didn’t have a thing to do with the fact he stood entirely naked before her. “Do you want me to leave?”

Tara’s dark blue eyes glittered, and her chin raised a nudge higher. “I want you to give me what you would have given to any other woman who won you tonight.”

“If you’d wanted exactly the same treatment, we’d have gone on to Steers ’n’ Steaks for the dinner first.”

She shook her head. “Where you and your date would have disappeared somewhere between the appetizer and the meal, I know. Thought I’d save you some moves, cowboy.”

Cody sucked in a slow, deep breath. He’d rarely made it through the after-auction dinner before his date was primed but didn’t like the fact she knew it. “Are you mad because I expected to end up in the winner’s bed?”

“No, Cody,” she said, her features tightening, “I’m disappointed you’re willing to be with any woman who pays.”

“Tara…” Cody was at a loss as to what to say, and a tremor of dread worked its way through him. Tara had never judged him before. At least, never out loud. They’d had an understanding, a convenient arrangement. Something they’d never talked about but had eased into over the past few months.

In public, they remained casual friends, sniping occasionally because they enjoyed the friction it built. In private, they rarely made it to the bed before their bodies were sweetly fused.

The thought that their relationship might be faltering chilled him to the bone. His whole body tensed, but then he forced himself to relax, holding still until his racing heart calmed. She was angry now. She’d been pissed at him before and gotten over it.

When he’d flirted with Lyssa McDonough on the dance floor of the Honkytonk, which had precipitated a fist fight with her beau, Brandon Tynan, it had taken a while for him to work his way back into Tara’s good graces. The best way he knew to soothe a woman’s ruffled feathers called for a little sensual finesse. Something he possessed in bucket loads. He still had a chance to make it right between them.

Only, he felt awkward, unbalanced. With any other woman, he’d have her backed up to the bed and have figured out what would please her by the way she sighed or moaned as he felt his way around her body.

He knew Tara’s preferences and would happily accommodate them, but he’d never made love to her the way he had other women. Never taken his time.

With Tara he let himself go. Sought his own pleasure while providing hers with equal enthusiasm. With another woman, he’d seek her praise, want to be the best she’d ever had. He’d
perform
.

What brought him back to Tara time and time again was how natural they were together. If he did as she asked, he might lose what he prized most. She’d become just another conquest.

Not his only lover.

“What would you do first once you got her inside a motel room?” she asked, her chin lifting higher.

Was she really asking him to make love to her like she was a stranger? Usually so good at reading women, he faltered, wondering if he wasn’t walking into some kind of feminine trap.

Feeling a little ashamed because he really did have a routine he followed with women, he couldn’t quite meet her gaze.

He tightened his jaw and then shrugged like he didn’t care that she asked such an intimate thing. “I’d soften the lighting. Most women prefer some shadows to hide their flaws.” Having said it, he lifted his own chin to pin her with a glare, daring her to make him continue.

She nodded her head toward the bedside lamp.

Cody swore under his breath, taking her slight action as a command, and turned on the small lamp beside the bed and then shut off the overhead lamp.

Bathed in the golden glow of the shaded lamp, Tara’s blunt features were softened. The fine wrinkles that bracketed her mouth and fanned from the corners of her large eyes faded. Her golden hair took on the hue of warm honey.

Naked, her body would be a blend of shadow and light, agelessly beautiful. If he could manage to get her out of her clothes without a fight.

Approaching her warily, he cleared his throat. “Most times, I strip a woman first. But seeing as how I got a little ahead of myself…” He reached for the bottom edge of her T-shirt, hesitating for a second, hoping for a clue that she didn’t really want to play this game. What he did with other women wasn’t something he wanted to color their relationship.

However, Tara merely lifted her arms. Her gaze locked with his as she let him peel the shirt over her head. When her head was clear, she shook out her curls. “Is this how you act with them? ’Cause I’m wondering how you manage to get their pants off, you’re so slow.”

As heat seared his cheeks, Cody bit his tongue to keep from snapping back. He tossed her shirt into a corner and slid his hands around her rib cage to bring her closer; then he jammed his hips against hers so she could feel his hardening desire for her.

Her gasp opened her lips, and he swept down, covering her mouth with his and thrusting his tongue inside—one sure way to get her to shut up.

Her tongue slid deep into his mouth, and he sucked on it before opening his mouth wider and drawing on her lips, opening and closing as he ate her mouth. Their kisses had always been passionate, but they’d also been playful, sometimes sweet. Over quickly because they never had the patience to linger.

This time he unleashed a bitter heat that had him rolling his hips to grind hard against her, his hand rising to pull her hair and angle her head so he could deepen the pressure of the kiss.

Only when they were both gasping hard did he ease off, tugging her bottom lip between his teeth before lifting his head.

One brow arched high. Her deep blue eyes glinted beneath her half-open lids as if to say, “That all you got?”

Before she could put to words whatever grating comment she was about to make, he reached behind her, unclasped her bra, and then slid his hands around her to cup her full breasts, rubbing his calloused thumbs over the distended nipples.