Texas Fever

It took fifteen minutes to get Sue settled inside her house before they finally climbed back into the Navigator, Josh back in the driver’s seat. He keyed the ignition, gunned the engine and pulled out of the gravel driveway. A few seconds later, they reached the stop sign at the end of Sue’s street.

“What are you doing?” she asked him when he just sat there, engine idling, as if he didn’t know which way to turn.

He stared straight ahead at the quiet expanse of road. “Wondering.”

“Wondering what?”

“If I should head back to the bar, or if I should head for the interstate and the nearest motel.”

The bar, her conscience whispered. The last thing she needed was to start the permanent phase of her life with a one-night stand.

Then again, a one-night stand was someone that you slept with and never saw again. This guy was obviously local. In a town this small, she would be seeing him again. And again.

A problem in and of itself.

Her head knew that and it started to send a warning south to all of the relevant body parts.

But then his gaze caught hers and there was no mistaking the heat that burned in the dark depths. Her breath caught and her body throbbed and the words were out before she could stop them. “I could use a good minibar right about now.”

2

JOSH MCGRAW’S hands actually trembled as he shoved the key into the lock after registering them at the Lone Ranger Motel, a clean but ancient establishment just outside the city limits. It had been a long, long time since he’d been this worked up. This hot. This hard. This…desperate.

The knowledge would have been enough to send him running for the next county if the circumstances had been different—if Holly had been any of the dozen or so “Juliets,” Romeo’s official organization of single women—who’d been in hot pursuit since he’d returned to town six months ago for his grandfather’s funeral.

Hell, they’d been after him even before then. Since he’d turned thirteen and played his first game of hide-and-seek with Dana Louise Shipley. Not the traditional version, mind you. The game he’d played with Dana had involved hiding a certain body part, and had caused quite a stir when the captain of the cheerleader squad had found them out behind the bleachers during a pep rally and let loose a scream. He’d been just one of the rough and tumble McGraw triplets—an unruly trio notorious for making noise and breaking rules—until damn near every female at Romeo High had gotten a glimpse of him naked. He’d gone from a troublemaker to a lovemaker in the blink of an eye, and he’d had a ready supply of females ever since.

The trouble was, where they’d once wanted a good time back in high school, they now wanted a walk down the aisle. Marriage. Forever.

Hell, no.

Josh wasn’t the marrying type any more than all of the McGraw men who’d come before him. From his great-grandfather who’d had not one, but two mistresses, to his grandfather who’d kept company with Red Rose Farraday herself—the notorious madam and owner of Romeo’s very own house of ill repute—to his own father who’d had affair after affair.

Unlike them, however, Josh wasn’t going to ignore his shortcomings and make false promises by saying “I do.” Instead, he made it a point to stay single, which meant steering clear of the Juliets who wanted commitment in addition to sex.

So for the past six months, he’d traveled the few hours to Austin whenever the urge overwhelmed him and visited any one of the handful of women he’d developed a physical relationship with over the past years. The knowledgeable sort who took their own pleasure and didn’t rely on him to tease and tantalize and coax them into an orgasm.

Making the trip every so often wasn’t exactly convenient, but it was a damned sight more safe than getting lassoed by a disillusioned Juliet who thought he was the answer to all of her romantic prayers.

He wasn’t. He was just a man. Selfish on occasion. Egotistical most of the time. Hardheaded all of the time. And too friggin’ lusty—thanks to the McGraw blood-line—to commit himself to one female for the rest of his born days.

Josh liked his freedom and he liked playing the field.

Even more, he wasn’t of a mind to hurt anyone.

He’d done that once before and he’d lived with the guilt ever since.

His gaze slid to the woman who stood beside him. She wasn’t tall, but she wasn’t small, either, with a pair of two-inch black stiletto heels that made her legs seem endless before they reached the short black skirt that molded to her round ass. A white silk tank hugged her luscious breasts. Her soft red hair hung down around her shoulders and framed her heart-shaped face. Her lips were full and pink, her green eyes hot and bright, and his cock twitched in anticipation.

Holly with her high heels and expensive clothes and fancy SUV wasn’t one of the women in town. She was a stranger. She was single. And judging by the way she licked her lips, she wanted the same thing from him that he wanted from her—sex.

He pushed open the door, stepped back and let her precede him inside. He expected more of an exotic fragrance from her given her big-city appearance. Instead, the warm scent of sugar and vanilla filled his nostrils as she eased past him. She smelled like sweet, fresh-from-the-oven cupcakes and his nostrils flared. A warning sounded somewhere in the back of his brain, but it wasn’t loud enough to push past the sudden hammering of his heart. A bolt of need shot through his body and his muscles bunched. He barely resisted the urge to haul her into his arms, back her up against the wall and take her hard and fast right there under the bare porch light, the june bugs bumping overhead.

As appealing as the notion, the thought of laying her down on a soft mattress and peeling away her clothes one piece at a time suddenly made him even hotter. Harder.

He followed her inside, closing the door behind them. A click sounded as she turned on a nearby lamp. A pale yellow glow pushed back the shadows and illuminated the interior. The room was far from fancy, but it was neat and clean. An unfinished pine dresser sat in the far corner, an ancient-looking television rested on top. A king-size bed took up the rest of the space. Beige curtains patterned with silver spurs covered the one window near a window air-conditioning unit. A matching comforter covered the bed. The slightly scarred hardwood floor gleamed from a recent polishing.

“I don’t see a minibar,” he said as his gaze swept the interior. “But if you’re hungry there’s a vending machine around the corner near the ice machine. I could get you something.”

She eyed him. “It was just a figure of speech. I wasn’t really in the mood to raid the minibar.”

“Then what are you in the mood for?”

“I…” She licked her lips and he had the gut feeling that she’d never done this sort of thing before. And then his gaze caught hers and he knew deep down that this was, indeed, a first for her.

His blood rushed even faster at the notion. A crazy reaction because Josh wasn’t in the habit of being the first anything when it came to women. Be it a first lover or a first one-night stand or the first man to actually cause an orgasm. Rather, he steered clear of any situation that might set him apart in a woman’s mind and make him more than just a really good lay.

He stiffened, his fingers tightening on the room key. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

“You’re right about that.” The hesitant light in her gaze faded into a wave of bright green heat as she stepped closer. “It’s not good at all.” Another step and her nipples kissed his chest.

The one touch shifted him into high speed. He pulled her close and thrust his tongue into the heated depths of her mouth, kissing her, devouring her.

His hands massaged her soft, round ass and he rubbed his throbbing erection against the cradle of her pelvis. His fingers bunched material until he reached the hem of the skirt and felt her bare flesh beneath. Her thighs were hot to the touch. Soft. Quivering.

Holy hell.

Urging her backward, he eased her down onto the bed. He captured her mouth in a deep, intense kiss that lasted several heartbeats before he pulled away and stepped back. He worked the buttons free on his shirt and let the material slide from his shoulders. He unfastened the button on his jeans and pushed the zipper down. The pressure eased and the edges gaped and he could actually breathe for a few seconds.

Until she pushed to a sitting position and leaned forward.

Her fingers touched the dark purple head of his erection where it pushed up above the waistband of his briefs. The air lodged in his throat and he ground his teeth against a burst of white-hot pleasure. Her touch was so damned soft and he was so hard and…

He needed to touch her. To see her.

He reached for the hem of her tank top and pulled it up and over her head. One dark red nipple pushed through the lace-patterned cup of her white bra. He leaned over and flicked his tongue over the rock-hard tip. She gasped and he drew the nub deeper into his mouth, sucking her hard through the flimsy covering.

Her fingers threaded through his hair and held him close. He relished the taste of her flesh for several heart-pounding moments before he pulled away. He gripped the cups of her bra and pulled them down and under the fullness of her breasts. The bra plumped her and her ripe nipples raised in invitation. When he didn’t lower his head and suckle her again, she reached for him.

“Please.”

“Easy, darlin’. We’ll get to it.” But not yet. He wasn’t a man to take his good fortune for granted. It was a rare occasion when a man found a woman like her at a hole-in-the-wall in such a desperately small town.

He meant to take his time and enjoy the looking and the touching and the anticipation.

He unzipped her skirt and peeled it from her body in a slow, tantalizing motion that stirred goose bumps on her soft flesh. Trailing his fingers back up the way they’d come, he hooked his fingers at the thin straps of her panties and followed the same path down her long legs.

When he had her naked with the exception of the bra pulled beneath her luscious breasts, he leaned up and let his gaze sweep the length of her.

She was definitely not from around here, he realized when his attention settled on the barely there strip of pubic hair that told him she’d been pampered and waxed at some fine salon rather than Miss Millie’s Hair Barn. As advertised on the marquee outside of her shop, Miss Millie’s waxing services didn’t extend any farther south than unruly chin hairs for which she ran a weekly special.

“Did you get this in Houston, too?” He trailed a finger down the barely there strip of hair and watched her tremble.

“Yes.”

“It’s nice.” He traced the slit that separated her lush pink lips and she caught her bottom lip as a groan trembled from her mouth. Her legs fell open and the soft pink flesh parted for him.

He dipped his fingertip into her steamy heat and watched her pupils dilate. Her mouth opened and she gasped. And then he went deeper, until her eyes fluttered closed again and her head fell back. He worked her, sliding his finger in and out until her essence coated his flesh and a drop trickled down his palm.

Hunger raged inside him and he dipped his head, flicked his tongue over the swollen tissue and lapped up her sweet juice.

At the first contact of his mouth, she arched up off the bed and her hands grasped his head. He tasted her, savoring the bitter sweetness and relishing the sound of a gasp here and a moan there. He swirled his tongue around her clitoris and felt the tip ripen for him. She whimpered as he sucked the sensitive nub into his mouth and nibbled until she tensed beneath him. Her fingers clutched at his hair in a grip that was just short of painful. The sensation fed his ravenous desire and made his breath quicken. He laved her once, twice and her breath caught on a ragged gasp. He knew she was close.

So close, but not quite there.

He gathered his control and pulled away, determined to make it last for the both of them. But then his gaze collided with hers and he saw the fierce glitter in her eyes—a mix of desire and relief and a desperate longing—and he had the strange feeling that this moment meant more than just sating her lust.

As if she weren’t just living in the moment, but looking forward to the morning after.

If he had been a different man, he might have liked the notion. But Josh McGraw wasn’t interested in a future when it came to women. The only thing on his mind was fulfilling his grandfather’s dying wish, and getting the hell out of Romeo and back to his life.

His gaze shifted to her naked body. Okay, so it wasn’t the only thing on his mind at the moment, but it was still a priority.

Right beneath getting inside the hot, sexy woman stretched out on the bed.

He snatched up his jeans and retrieved a condom from his pocket. After sliding on the latex, he settled between her legs. Bracing himself, he shoved his penis deep into her wet heat in one swift thrust that stalled the air in his lungs.

He gripped her lush hips, his tanned fingers digging into her pale flesh as he plunged into her again. She closed her eyes, lifted her hips and met each thrust until he couldn’t take it anymore. His cock throbbed and filled and he was right there. Just a few more movements and he was going to explode….

And she wasn’t.

She wasn’t nearly as tense, her body wasn’t strung as tight as it should have been if she were teetering on the edge.

All the better. If she didn’t have an explosive orgasm, it would surely sour the evening and push him right back down to the nothing-special category when it came to men.

He thrust again and again. The pressure built and pleasure fogged his brain and before he could stop himself, he reached down between them and parted her flesh just above the point where he filled her. He caught her swollen clitoris between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed lightly.

She moaned and her body convulsed around him and he knew she’d tumbled over the edge. He buried himself deep one last time and followed. He held her tight and relished the way her inner muscles milked him.

Finally, his hold loosened and he collapsed onto his back. He reached for her, tucking her against his body.

He needed to get up and get dressed. He had an early day waiting for him. He was riding fence first thing in the morning before he moved two hundred new head of cattle into the west pasture. But damned if he could breathe, much less move, and so he closed his eyes. Just for a few minutes. Then he would haul himself up, pull on his clothes and say goodbye.

AN HOUR LATER Josh forced his eyes open just in time to see Holly stand and slide on her panties. He folded his arms behind his head and watched as she bent over to search through the covers they’d kicked off for the rest of her clothes.

She was just pulling on her top when she noticed that he was watching her.

She smiled. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He winked. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s just that I really need to get going. I’ve got a long drive ahead of me.”

“You’re going all the way back to Houston tonight?”

She nodded and finished with the last button before perching on the edge of the bed to pull on her skirt. “I run my own business and I’ve got a ton of things to do first thing in the morning.” She stood and reached for her purse. “Maybe we could have dinner some time. Whenever you’re available. I know you’re probably busy with horses or cattle or whatever you do.”

“Actually, I do both. For now. My grandfather passed away about six months ago and I’ve been running my family’s ranch since then. But that’s just temporary until my brother comes home in a few weeks. Then I’m headed back to Arizona. I run a small charter business.”

“I thought you were a cowboy.”

“Professionally, I’m a pilot.”

“But you look like a cowboy.”

“Cowboying isn’t something you do, cupcake. It’s the way you think.” He winked. “I’ll always be a cowboy. I just like climbing into the cockpit of a Cessna more than I like climbing into a saddle.”

Disappointment filled her gaze and Josh barely ignored the urge to pull her into his arms.

“But you look like a cowboy,” she stated again, as if she had to say it twice for the words to really sink in. “I’m sorry. I thought…” She shook her head. “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime then.”

“I doubt that. I don’t get down to Houston too often. Austin’s closer, so I do most of the ranch business there.”

“I’m talking about here. In town. I live here now.”

He sat up. “What did you say?”

“As of three o’clock this afternoon, I own the Farraday Inn—my grandmother left it to me.”

What? “You’re Holly Farraday?” It was more of a statement than a question, because the truth was right there in front of him. In the deep red hue of her hair. The bright green of her eyes. He’d recognized her, all right, because she looked like her grandmother. A young, vibrant version of the old woman who’d stolen his grandfather’s heart all those years ago, and his land.

“So maybe we’ll see each other again,” she said as she hauled open the door. “Before you leave, that is.”

But there was no maybe about it.

Josh would have to see her again, all right, because sweet-smelling Holly Farraday had something he wanted really, really bad.

His groin throbbed and he conceded. Okay, so she had two things he wanted, but he’d already had one of them and he wasn’t going back for seconds.

More importantly, she had his family’s land and he meant to get it back. He’d promised his grandfather as much, and Josh always kept his word.

Especially with his own peace of mind hanging in the balance.

3

“IT’S ABOUT TIME you showed up.” Holly dusted the flour from her blouse as she pulled open the front door of the massive farmhouse. “I’m on my tenth Ultimate Orgasm and I need at least a dozen more.”

“I could guarantee one.” The voice, deep and husky, slid into her ears as she came face-to-face with the cowboy standing on her doorstep. “Maybe even two or three,” he went on, “if I’m not too worked up and there’s no vanilla icing involved. But a dozen is pushing it. Even for a McGraw.”

“I was talking about an Ultimate Milk Chocolate Orgasm.”

“I didn’t know they came in flavors.”

“Mine do. Milk chocolate.” She tried to gather her wits. “I thought you were the UPS guy.”

“Cupcake,” he said as he leaned one palm against the door frame and stared down at her, “do I look like the UPS guy?”

“No. Yes.” She shook her head. “If we were back in Houston, I would say no. But we’re here in Timbuktu, where my mailman rides a four-wheeler with a horn that plays ‘The Yellow Rose of Texas.’ So a UPS guy who looks like the Marlboro Man and drives a…” she glanced past him to the black Dodge Dualie pickup that sat in the front drive “…monster truck wouldn’t surprise me in the least.”

He grinned and her heart stalled for a dangerous second. Heat skittered along her nerve endings and she had half a mind to reach out and trace the shape of his lips. The other half of her mind voted to bypass the tracing entirely and go straight to a kiss. A hot, wet, deep kiss that would satisfy the sudden craving deep in her belly.

A full-fledged craving that had haunted her the entire weekend, when she hadn’t had more than a hankering in the past few years since she’d started Sweet & Sinful. Launching a new business left little time for socializing and so she’d been having a major dry spell when it came to sex.

Until Josh McGraw.

He’d quenched her thirst on Friday night, or so she’d thought until she’d spent the past two days wanting another drink.

She’d tried her usual remedy for a bad case of lust—a few spoonfuls of her Ultimate Milk Chocolate Orgasm batter never failed to kill the urge and keep her on the straight and narrow to the land of the financially secure. That and a few private fantasies featuring one of her favorite actors.

Neither had satisfied her this time.

Josh eyed her and awareness skittered along her nerve endings. “Do you usually proposition the UPS guy?”

“Proposition?” Her mind rushed back and she remembered her words. “Oh, you mean the Ultimate Orgasm.”

“A dozen of them.” He shook his head and grinned. “If your UPS guy can deliver that, he’s definitely in the wrong line of work.”

“I can see your point.” She couldn’t help but smile. “But I wasn’t referring to that kind of orgasm. The Ultimate Orgasm is a mousse cake,” she told him. “Made with three different textures of chocolate, fudge and a sweet cream. It’s my top seller—particularly the milk chocolate flavor. I make specialty desserts for a living.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “And here I thought you might be continuing the family tradition.”

“I might not agree with my grandmother’s choice of profession, but it was her choice.” A choice that had obviously forced her only child to run away.

Holly now realized why her mother had been so tight-lipped all those years ago. She’d moved them from city to city, state to state, because she’d been desperate to escape her past and protect her own child from such an influence. Maybe she’d feared her own mother finding her and forcing her back. Or maybe she’d simply been embarrassed. Maybe both. Either way, she’d run and she’d kept running, and now Holly understood.

Not that Holly felt any shame. Sex wasn’t held in the same taboo as it had been years ago. Besides, Holly had grown up in the city. Several to be exact. She was more open-minded. But growing up the daughter of a small-town madam… That must have been hard.

“It was her choice,” she said again, “and obviously a pretty smart choice, from what I hear.” And she’d heard an earful in the few days she’d been in town. There wasn’t a person in town who didn’t have something to say about the Farraday Inn. Holly had expected negative comments. Instead, she’d been bombarded with questions about Rose and her infamous recipe book—the sexual dishes she’d served up at the Farraday Inn.

Did it exist?

What were the recipes?

Could they really drive a man to the brink of insanity?

Maybe. Holly didn’t know. She’d barely set up her kitchen, much less picked her way through her grandmother’s belongings. She did know that there were five “dining” rooms upstairs, each decorated with a particular theme that no doubt catered to a particular recipe. As for the recipes themselves… She’d been too busy setting up shop and thinking about Josh McGraw to wonder if such a book still existed.

“My grandmother was very successful at what she did, but I’m not continuing the family tradition. I do my best work in the kitchen.”

He reached out, his finger scooping a speck of fudge from her chin. He touched it to his lips. “I’ll have to remember that.” His gaze went past her to the boxes that filled the living room. “So you’re really settling in here?”

“I needed more space for my business. My apartment in Houston barely had room to accommodate a commercial oven. Here I’ve got room for three.”

“Which is why you turned down my offer to buy the place.”

She remembered the lawyer’s mention of a prospective buyer. “That was you?”

He shrugged. “The floor you’re standing on used to belong to the McGraws until your grandmother sweet-talked my grandpa into giving her a piece.” His gaze locked with hers. “A piece in return for a piece.”

She fought down a wave of anger and smiled instead. “It’s a shame your grandfather was such a weak man.”

He stared at her as if he wanted to argue, but then his expression softened. “He had his moments. We all do.” Regret flashed in his gaze and she might have thought he referred to Friday night, but something in her gut told her the emotion went way beyond one night of lust.