Beware of the Cowboy (4 page)

“Blake! Please…” Still arched, her skin was flushed and her
hair spread out in a tangled mess of torn blanket and hay. Blake had never seen
a woman so taken by passion in his life. He scrambled to get a condom from the
pocket of his discarded pants and roll it over his near-bursting cock. When he
started to slide between her legs again, she closed them.

“What’s the matter?”

“I wanna ride,” she purred as she got to her knees. “Lie
down, Mr. Dean.”

Despite the levity of her comments, her eyes held an intense
wanting that made Blake even harder. He rolled onto his back, overwhelmed by
the sexy creature straddling him. She reached for his shaft and rubbed it over
her swollen flesh only once before sliding herself all the way down, taking him
in to the hilt. His toes curled, his back arched and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Yes!” she moaned as she lifted back up, almost all the way
off.

He felt the humid air between their bodies before she sank
down again, seating herself completely. Liza started rocking, not raising more
than an inch or so with each pass, riding him in an easy, slow canter, her hips
grinding in a sultry circle, hands reaching back and holding his thighs for
support. Everything about this sensuous creature made him burn. He watched her
face, the way her mouth was slightly open as she moved and how her eyes were
lazily shut. And when she opened those eyes, looked directly at him and gave
him a crooked little smile, he almost came. Liza was a siren, attuned to so
many little things that were turning him on in a way no woman had ever been
before. How was it so good with her? So different? He felt himself wanting
more. More than just the sex.

Blake wanted the woman.

Liza quickened her pace, lifting herself higher off him,
giving his cock full strokes. Each hard thrust scorched to his toes. She was
getting close. Her thighs gripped his hips, her sultry face tightened to a
pained expression. She slammed him hard, making him grab her hips to support
her. “Liza!”

She threw her head back and called his name. The feel of her
pussy shuddering and clenching his cock undid his resolve to make it last, and
he came. She teased his nipples with slender fingers, making him crazy as the
explosion of his orgasm sensitized his entire body. Everywhere her body touched
his, he sizzled. Liza continued riding him as she looked into his eyes and gave
him another knowing smile as she slowed.

She draped herself across his chest, still panting slightly,
her warm breath caressing his chest. He pushed her hair from her face, not
moving for fear she would get up. “That was…” He didn’t even know how to
describe what he’d felt.

“Yes, it was,” she finished for him.

Chapter Three

Liza stood back and scanned the finished product as the last
of the decorations and food were set out. The tables were cleverly placed so
the seating area was in the shape of a bone. The guests of honor would sit in
baskets at the head table with Bobbie and the breeder from Spain, along with
the representative from the SPCA. Four hundred people had replied for the
short-notice event and she and Becky had a time getting so many dog-related
items to Texas in time, but it was done. Nothing left but the I do’s.

Becky caught up to her as she walked toward the nearest
table. “So…missed you at breakfast this morning.”

“Slept late.” She had, and it had been great.

“Young Mr. Dean was there. He asked about you.”

Liza turned to see her friend’s sly smile. Becky’s dark
auburn hair bounced as they walked. Just as Liza was light and golden, Becky
was dark and mysterious, with her rich red hair, dark olive skin and deep green
eyes. They were opposites in many ways, and complementary in many others. When
Liza was stressed and uptight, Becky was free and easygoing. If Liza was angry,
Becky would find the humor in the situation. If Becky was flustered and overrun
with work, Liza remained calm and cool, taking on extra tasks to even out the
load. They read each other, understood each other. Early on, Liza had begun to
see her more as a cherished friend or sister than just an assistant.

She smiled now at the hopeful look in Becky’s eyes. “Don’t
get your hopes up, hon. We had a really nice time, but…” A “nice time” didn’t
begin to describe it. “I’m no fool. He can have any female for miles around.”

Becky straightened the centerpiece on the closest table. “Yes.
He can. But looked to me like
you
were the female he wanted.”

“Really, Beck, we had a good time. But I’m not going to get
all gooey about it.” No way was Liza up for that kind of heartache. Blakely
Dean could hurt her. Badly.

“Liza, just don’t discount that Blake could really like
you.”

Liza stopped tinkering with the decorations. “Hmph.”

“What is it that frightens you?” Becky lifted an eyebrow.

Liza sank onto one the chintz-covered chairs. How could she
explain this to her friend? She wanted a man in her life badly, but Blake Dean
was way out of her league. Liza needed control. She needed predictable, as
Becky well understood. Far too much of her life had been handled by others.
She’d been shuffled from foster home to foster home, and then to the orphanage
with no say in the matter. Her life was
hers
now—and Black was an
unknown. “I’m not scared.” The lie hurt.

Becky pulled herself away from the table she’d been leaning
against. “Keep telling yourself that. While you’re at it, ask yourself this
one. Whatever old feelings make you hide behind this business, whatever it is
you need to control, is holding on to
that
worth losing a chance at
something real with Blake?”

Liza let out a little laugh. “You shoot straight from hip
don’t you?”

“That’s why you keep me around. Think on it. Even if he’s
not as interested as I think he is, you need to feel
something
sometime.” Becky tweaked the arrangement one more time before smiling wickedly.
“And then you can buy
me
one of those hundred-dollar vibrators you
bought because I’ll need it more than you.”

“I’m not asking how you know about that, but you can have
that monster, Blake Dean or not.” Liza laughed and shook her head. She’d
ordered the top-of-the-line vibrator to try to help slake her body’s needs.
Before meeting Blake, she’d no desire for a man, just a really good orgasm, and
the Beaded Bunny had looked like a good choice online. It was bright purple
with shimmering beads and an interestingly shaped clitoral stimulator. She’d
figured that thing could take the place of any man.

Becky sidled closer, smirking. “I saw the catalogue you left
on your desk with the thing circled and the confirmation number written on it.
What’s wrong with it? I thought those were supposed to be the best vibrator
going.”

Liza felt herself starting to blush. This was not a
conversation one had with one’s assistant, but she couldn’t resist the urge to
share some information. “Well. The damn thing has six buttons on it, Beck.
Think about that for a moment. That gives it something like thirty-four
settings between the,” she lowered her voice even though the area was empty,
“bunny ears clit-stimulator and the shaft. The thing has beads in the shaft
that move around as it rotates! It’s really too much. I mean, who wants to
think
that
much at that moment?”

Liza blushed harder before continuing. “And what position
are you in if you’re using a vibrator anyway?” She gave Becky’s imagination a
moment to catch up with the imagery.

Becky shook her head, perplexed. Liza glanced around again.
“You can’t see the buttons when it’s in place—and they’re
very
sensitive.” Liza rolled her eyes at her assistant’s huge smile. “I can’t
believe I’m telling you this. Every time I thought I had the rabbit humming
right along and the shaft at just the right speed, the crazy thing would change
speeds and either send me to the moon or scrambling to turn it off. I’m telling
you, the Bunny has a mind of its own.”

Liza felt her own laughter starting deep in her chest at the
memory of trying out the new toy. “I mean, when I looked at the other options,
I wondered what on earth women would want with a remote-control-operated
vibrator. Now I know.” She reached over and took her laughing friend’s wrist.
“And for God’s sake, do not use it when you have company in the house. The motor
on that thing’s louder than my hair dryer. I swear.”

Liza thought about Blake, the way his face looked during
orgasm, and realized no matter how many buttons or how nice the rotating beaded
shaft, a vibrator was no replacement for the feel of a man between her thighs.
The new toy was no better than her old-fashioned vibrator. Oh, it did the work,
and in a few minutes she could have an orgasm. But the feel of flesh and the
weight of a real man would never be replaced by plastic and batteries.

If only she could trust that a real man—like Blake
Dean—wouldn’t abandon her in the long run. If she thought for a second he would
understand her need to be in control of most everything in her life and not see
it as being bitchy, then maybe.

Becky stood as people started arriving for the ceremony.
“The guests are here. I’ll make sure the staff is ready. I expect you to order
Mr. Perfect and have him on my desk this week. I’ll take that as my bonus for
the weekend.”

Liza laughed again. “I’ll buy you one, but I think you’ll be
just as disappointed as I was.”

“Maybe it would be better if someone else was working the
controls.” She winked as she turned and left.

Liza chuckled then shivered as she thought of Blake between
her knees, teasing and playing with the controls of the Beaded Bunny. She could
see his face as he concentrated on the controls and the reactions the different
settings brought from her body. The first of the guests interrupted her
daydreams as they started milling into the yard and the tent.

She looked around at the decorations. All put together, it
rivaled any other wedding she’d ever planned, if you looked past the theme. She
smiled to herself and headed into the house.

Bobbie was squealing as Liza entered the suite of rooms she
was using as the dressing area for the wedding party. “Get him out of here,
Blakely!” Blake stood looking impish, with a pug tucked under his arm. “It’s
bad luck for the bride to see the groom before the ceremony. And why don’t you
have the pants on?”

Liza snickered as she noticed Blake had opted for black
jeans and black ostrich boots instead of the tuxedo pants that Becky had
ordered custom-made. His jaw tightened. “Mother, I am not wearing pants that
have pugs all over them. It’s bad enough to be best man to a drooling dog.”

“Ms. DeLane will have your hide.”

Liza stepped fully into the room. “I think Ms. DeLane will
get over it.” Blake looked up and smiled.

Bobbie fluffed the tulle veil that was hanging dangerously
close to Penelope’s slobber-covered mouth. “Still, he won’t match. Blakely,
honey, this is important.”

Pedro shook in Blake’s arm and sent a string of goo onto his
crisp, starched shirt. “Shit.”

“Blakely, stop your cursing and go clean that up. And change
your pants. We’ll be ready in a few minutes.” He grumbled and backed out of the
room, trying to keep the squirming pooch still while wiping off his lapel. He
stopped long enough to tip his black felt hat to Liza and give her a dazzling
grin. Man, he looked good in a cowboy hat.

“Thank you, Ms. DeLane, for not having my hide.” Blake
winked and backed out of the room as Pedro whined. Liza had to fight with all
her will to not correct him and say something about how she had enjoyed that
hide very much.

“Honestly,” Bobbie huffed as she gathered up Penelope.
“You’d think I asked the boy to wear a dress. Are we ready, hon?”

Liza shook off the effects of that grin and the comment and
gazed out the window overlooking the festivities. “As soon as he gets the groom
downstairs. It’s an excellent turnout. You should be able to make a considerable
donation.”

Bobbie glanced out the window over her shoulder. “Thanks to
you.”

The pug squirmed unexpectedly in Bobbie’s arms and she
dropped little Penelope. The dog squeaked and headed for the door, her veil
taking the brunt of the damage as her pink painted toenails dug into the tulle.
“Silly puppers! Come here, sweet bear.” Bobbie scrambled after the dog,
knocking the rest of the bride’s veil to the ground. “Liza, be a dear.”

Liza picked up the diamond collar and attempted to attach it
around what she supposed was the dog’s neck. The custom wedding dress was
bunched up and the wiggly, drooling pup wanted no part of the attentions of the
two women. “Pen-Pen! Hold still. I’ve never seen such a nervous bride. Have
you, Liza?”

Liza couldn’t help but giggle. The dog stopped at the sound
of her owner’s voice and appeared to be waiting for Liza’s answer. “No, I don’t
believe I have, Mrs. Dean.” They managed to get the veil and tiara attached and
adjusted with a little more effort.

Bobbie reached over unexpectedly and patted Liza’s cheek.
“You’re a dear. I hope to see you around more.”

* * * * *

The nuptials went off without too much trouble. The bride
and groom were more than ready to start their honeymoon and had little patience
for the trappings of the ceremony. Bobbie lost her grip on the bride and the
little hussy attacked the groom before the “I do’s” had been said. The episode
added the last touch of whimsy that the occasion needed. The guests all seemed
to enjoy it and only a few of the men looked overly bored. Blake did his best
to play his part and not make mocking gestures, even if he had ignored his
mother’s request to put the pug pants on.

Liza watched it all from the sidelines, as she did most of
the parties she put together. She was not a guest but part of the staff, and
made a conscious effort not to let herself get too carried away by the smiles
and niceties to think otherwise. She worked for these people, no different from
the girl passing out bone-shaped chocolate-cherry truffles. The suit she wore
was expensive, but was still a uniform.

She watched as Blake moved in and out of the crowd, talking
easily with the elite of Dallas. Ladies’ eyes watched him as he moved, batting
eyelashes, touching his arm when they spoke. He graciously accepted their
attentions, wearing his arrogance easily as he moved from guest to guest. She
wondered what it would be like to be so confident, to move with such ease
through a crowd. How would it feel to fit in so easily with anyone you came
across? Blake was so stunningly confident, and he had every right to be. The
man was polished, educated and gorgeous. Why wouldn’t he fit in no matter where
he went?

* * * * *

Liza scanned the crowd, watching for anything the guests
might need. The dinner tables were long gone and the dance floor was packed
with slightly drunken socialites. Bobbie was dancing in the middle of the
floor. She was holding both the pugs, one wrapped under each arm, still in
their wedding costumes. Overly red lipstick accentuated Bobbie’s bright smile.

Becky joined her. “Another job well done, boss lady. Totals
are coming close to two hundred thousand. That’s a lot of neuters.”

“Ouch. They do a lot more than neutering at the SPCA, you
know.” She looked at Becky. “You’re the reason this was a success.” Becky shook
her head to deny Liza’s praise. “I think next week we need to talk seriously
about partnership. You run half this business anyway. You should be getting
more benefit from it.” Becky looked at her, mouth open, eyes big. “Close your
mouth and say thank you.”

“I really don’t know what to say.” Becky hugged her.

“I told you what to say.” Really, she owed her friend much
more than that. Becky had been trying to put a mirror in front of her face for
a long time. Liza had buried her life in her work but a fat bankbook was a bad
replacement for happiness.

“Thanks.” Becky’s smile turned sly. “Blake really looks good
in those black jeans doesn’t he?”

“You don’t stop, do you?”

“Nope.”

One of the waitstaff called Becky away and Liza scanned the
party again. Said black jeans were nowhere in sight. Lingering by one of the
bars, she idly sipped champagne that had bubbled out of the side of a
fire-hydrant-shaped ice sculpture. The band slowed the tempo and couples took
over the dance floor. Liza watched as lovers young and old swayed together,
laughing and kissing.

Blake handed his father a beer as Mr. Dean sauntered up to a
bar on the other side of the lawn, then glanced over to his mother, still
beaming and laughing with her friends on the dance floor. Penelope and Pedro
had just been tucked into their newly built three-hundred-square-foot dog
mansion in the garden.