Trouble at the Treble T (8 page)

But then she woke up and reality had set in and she’d known she was only entertaining foolish dreams. He could have any woman he wanted,
all
the women he wanted, any
time
he wanted. Why would he ever tie himself down to one, even if she did want them to play games now and then?

So she’d slipped from his bed before dawn, snuck out of the house without waking anyone then raced home to lock herself in her apartment. Her cell phone had rung several times but she’d seen Cade’s number on the readout and ignored it each time. Late in the afternoon, a Treble T pickup had roared into the parking lot before slamming to a halt. Boot heels thundered on the steps to her apartment, but she’d ignored the hammering on the door. Just as she’d ignored his angry voice.

“Damn it, Marti, I know you’re in there. Open the goddamned door.”

For what? So he could read her the riot act? Be sure she understood the rules?

Eventually he’d left and she’d spent a miserable night huddled in her bed. What was wrong with her? The Thompson brothers offered the kind of sex she craved yet she only wanted one of them. Well, okay, sometimes it would be fun to share. But only if she really belonged to one of them and he controlled the situation. That’s what she’d really been looking for all this time.

The problem was Cade Thompson had no more intention of tying himself to one woman than the state of Texas did of banning handguns. And without him claiming her, she was sure she couldn’t handle another visit to the Treble T. How the hell had this happened? She’d had her heart broken once. That was enough. She’d sworn never to let it out of its steel cage again.

Yet here she was, anguished because Cade Thompson was so far beyond her reach.

She’d been all prepared to do battle with him in person, expecting him to show up any day with murder in his eyes, demanding an explanation for her hasty retreat. Making sure she understood that just because they’d all had a really good time didn’t mean he owed her more than any other woman he took to the ranch. Or worse yet, firing her and sending her on her way. But not one of them showed up in the bar. Not even for a minute. And every week her pay was still direct-deposited into her bank account.

She was thankful they’d been especially busy because working herself into a stupor every day seemed to be the best thing she could do. The difficult part was avoiding Daisy’s curious glances and prying questions, but she managed to make it plain there was nothing she wanted to discuss. She just didn’t know how long she could go on like this. One of these nights, they were sure to come into Treble Shooters again and she’d be trapped.

The ranch hands that came often grumbled about how surly Cade had become and how the brothers didn’t seem to be having much fun in life anymore. She wrote that off as just smoke in the wind. It was branding time at the Treble T, plus she knew they were moving the cattle to winter pastures, so being surly made sense. And they probably didn’t have time left over for fun.

Sighing, she finished her drink and headed for the tiny office to fax her order to the distributor. As she made her way down the short hallway, the back door opened and Cade Thompson himself stormed in. His faced looked like a thundercloud about to erupt and tension radiated from every muscle in his body. Marti stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes frantically sliding to the door of her office.

“Don’t even think of it,” he growled, moving so he was barely an inch away from her. “I waited long enough and you’re not locking yourself in the office to get away from me.”

“W-Waited?” She clutched the sheaf of paper to her chest. “For what?”

“For you to come to your senses.”

Her eyes widened and she felt anger simmer low in her belly. “Come to my senses? About what? We all had a great time that Sunday. I knew exactly what was going to happen. I’ve played those games nearly all my adult life. Then it was back to business as usual.”

“You snuck out of my bed and out of my house.” His voice was accusing. “Did I do anything to make you feel unwelcome?”

Her tongue kept wanting to stick to the roof of her mouth. “I didn’t want you to have to make the whole ‘this was fun but now it’s back to life as usual’ speech. Been there, done that. I thought if I just left, you’d know I didn’t want anything from you and we’d be fine.” She tried not to sound pleading. “I don’t want to lose this job, Cade.”

“What if
I
wanted something from
you
? Did you ever think about that?”

She just stared at him as if he’d suddenly sprouted two heads. “Like what? Another Sunday? That’s okay by me.” But of course it wasn’t. Not when she was just another name on a list to this man.

“No. Well, yeah, maybe. But only under certain conditions.”

“Conditions? Like what?”

“Like this.”

His mouth came down on hers and he kissed her with a bruising intensity. His tongue stabbed into her mouth, sweeping over every surface, while he slid his hands to her ass and pulled her hard against him. The swollen length of his cock pressed against her through their clothing.

“Feel that?” he asked, his lips still touching hers. “I’ve been like that every day since you walked out on me.”

“Walked out on you?” She was trying to catch her breath. “I just made a clean exit.” She swallowed hard. “And if you’re so damn hard, how come you haven’t had your whole list of women out there to satisfy you.”

“Because I don’t want anyone but you,” he shouted.

They stared at each other, the words hanging in the air.

Finally she blinked. ”W-What did you say?”

He let out a ragged breath. “You heard me. I just want you.” He frowned. “I’m damned if I know how it happened, but there it is. I was so ungodly jealous that Sunday I couldn’t see straight. You know why I wanted to fuck your ass so badly?”

She shook her head.

“Because that way I’d be claiming you. Making you mine. How nuts is that?” 

Marti shook her head as if to clear her brain. “I don’t understand. I thought you guys
liked
the games you played.”

“I do. Yes. No. I mean…”

“What do you mean, Cade?”

He was still holding her so tightly against him she had to struggle to draw a full breath.

His mouth was almost touching hers again. “I want to settle down, Marti. I want a woman who belongs to me. Who feels about me the same way I feel about her.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “But who still wants to play with my brothers once in a while.” The grin faded. “On my terms.”

She tried to find the right words but nothing came to her. She wanted to be sure she understood exactly what he was saying.

“You hear me, Marti? We have something between us that’s real. I know you feel it, too. I saw it in your eyes that Sunday. If I’m wrong, just tell me.”

“You’re not.” The words came out as a whisper.

“I’ve talked to Mark and Justin. They know how I feel. I’m going to build a separate house for myself at the ranch, and I want you to live in it with me. To marry me.” The grin was back. “My brothers can have the big house to play all they want until either of them gets ready to settle down. And if my brothers are very, very good, we’ll invite them over to play on special occasions.”

He was so close his breath was a soft breeze on her skin. Her heart was hammering in triple time.

“That is,” he went on, “if it’s okay with you. Because I’ll be in charge, not either of them.”

“O-Okay.” She hoped she heard him right.

“Okay, what?” he brushed his lips over hers. “You’ll live in the house with me? You’ll let my brothers come over and play now and then? You’ll marry me?”

“Okay to all of it,” she breathed, her gaze locked with his.

“Thank God.”

She actually felt the tension ease from his body and he kissed her with new heat and added fervour. 

Finally he lifted his head. “Just remember one thing, darlin’.”

“What’s that?”

“Nobody fucks that ass but me.”

Marti wanted to laugh. She knew that was Cade’s way of asserting his possession of her. Of making her his. And letting his brothers know just how things were.

“I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that, big guy.”

“Tomorrow we’re going to meet with an architect and then get bids from contractors.” He turned her and guided her to the back door. “In the meantime, I think you should take me upstairs. If I’m not inside you in the next ten minutes, I might not live.”

She laughed, a giddy sound. “I think I can handle that.”

Minutes later that’s exactly what she did, taking him into her body and rocketing them to an explosive release. But the biggest explosion was her heart bursting from happiness as she realised she’d finally have it all.

She reached over and turned on the little bedside radio. Immediately the notes of Kenny Rogers’
We’ve Got It All
floated into the room.

Cade looked down at her grinning. “We sure do, darlin’.”

“You bet, cowboy.”

And then he was sliding into her again.

Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:

All Jacked Up

Desiree Holt

Released 3
rd
October 2011

Excerpt

Chapter One

Forty and fucked.

Actually, fucked up is more like it.

Jack Manning leaned against the bar, sipping his drink and indulging in his own private pity party. Friday night and all around him in Eli’s, their favourite bar, his friends were celebrating his fortieth birthday. A death knell that had crept up on his rapidly dissipating youth. Not that he didn’t appreciate the cheer and good wishes—it just sucked that everyone was coupled-up except him.

“Still looking for the perfect woman?”

A hand clapped his shoulder and he turned to see his closest friend, Mike Moreland, grinning at him. Jack just shrugged and took another slug of bourbon.

“She won’t find you if you stand there glaring at everyone,” a musical voice said.

Carly, Mike’s wife. Great. They were double-teaming him.

“It’s my birthday,” he told them with an edge to his voice. “I can glare if I want to.”

Carly stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear, “Loosen up a little, will you? Lose the jacket and tie. Forty could be just the beginning for you.”

Yeah, right.

“Come on, buddy,” Mike urged. “Let’s have a little cheer here.”

Jack did his best to stretch his mouth into a smile, but the effort was obviously so bad Carly burst out laughing.

“Okay, okay. I think the glare suits you better.”

One by one his friends settled up their tabs, wished him a happy birthday and drifted out, off to their homes or whatever couple of activities might be on their calendars.

How the fuck did everyone else find the right person and I’m still going home to Mr Big?

Mr Big was a cat of indeterminate heritage who had adopted him a couple of years ago and seemed to be the only housemate in his future. He wasn’t a bad catch. His friends told him that all the time. He owned a one-man financial services business that did well. A house that was small but well-furnished in a good neighbourhood. Had no really bad habits to speak of. Considered himself fairly intelligent. He worked out regularly and kept himself in good shape. He might’ve liked to have been a couple of inches taller but it wasn’t a game changer.

So where was the woman for him? At forty, surely he should have found her. Instead he was a single man in the coupled-up crowd of his friends. With no change in that status in the foreseeable future. When people asked him why he wasn’t married yet he wished he had some other answer to give them other than he hadn’t yet met the right woman.

But that was a big part of it. His friends told him he was too picky. Had expectations that were too high. That there were plenty of women right under his nose who were perfectly acceptable.

Trouble was, he didn’t want an ‘acceptable’ woman. He wanted one who would make his friends look at him with envy. One who would validate him as a babe magnet, something he’d never been able to lay claim to.

Looking around, he realised he was one of the few people left in Eli’s. Well, it was a week night. He supposed he should be grateful his friends had made the time to celebrate with him, however briefly. But a wave of loneliness swamped him as he hitched himself on to a bar stool and signalled the bartender for a refill.

“What’d you do to chase the crowd away?” the man asked, putting a fresh glass of bourbon on the rocks in front of him.

“Must be my charming personality.” He tried to keep the resentful tone out of his voice.

“Don’t sweat it, buddy. It’s a week night. Eli’s usually clears out pretty early during the week.” He studied Jack with a bartender’s experienced eyes. “So how come you don’t have some arm candy hanging on you? You’re not a bad-looking guy, you know.”

Jack couldn’t help chuckling. “You’re really handy with the compliments, aren’t you?”

The bartender shrugged. “Just making conversation.”

“Well, put a cork in it and fix me another drink.”

Jack swivelled his head at the sound of a new voice. Then he blinked. He must have been hallucinating because the little pixie who’d hitched herself on to the bar stool next to him looked like something straight out of a funky fairy tale. Short ebony hair stood up in what he supposed were fashionable spikes but just looked to him as if she’d spent the day running her fingers through it. Her eyes were heavily made up but somewhere along the way she’d forgotten about lipstick.

A sweater in a weird shade of green clung to her in a way that drew his eyes to her nicely-rounded breasts while skin-tight jeans hugged the rest of her body, revealing plump curves. Her feet were shod in boots with stiletto heels and a dozen silver bracelets jingled on one arm. And the entire package couldn’t have been over five feet.