Night Watch (Texas Cowboys Book 6) Read online

  She smiled. As if that would ever happen. “Let me put these in water.”

  “Wait. I have something else.”

  She paused, catching on the muted intensity of his expression as he dug a hand into his pocket and fished out a metal oval object. Recognizing what it was, because her sister had once sent her a link to an online sex toy shop, she drew in a sharp breath. “I thought you were going to take this slowly. You said…”

  His gaze locked with hers. “It’s up to you, Amy. You set the pace.”

  She raised a shaking hand and took the egg. “Now?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  She began to turn away, ready to retreat to the privacy of her bedroom to insert the little vibrator, but his fingers closed around her wrist. “Here.”

  She blinked. “But we’re facing the street.”

  “No one’s here,” he said, his gaze boring into hers now. “Just slip your hand under your skirt, slide that sexy little thong to the side, and slip it in.”

  The tone of his voice had changed, from his signature rumble to a sexy purr. Knowing her face was glowing with embarrassment, she passed him the roses and raised her skirt just enough to get her hand beneath it, nudged aside the crotch of her underwear, and slid the egg into her pussy. “What if it falls out?”

  “Push it deeper. But you’re going to have to hold it inside all night.”

  With him watching her face, she tried to keep her expression blank, but the egg began to vibrate, and her mouth rounded as she gasped.

  She closed her eyes like a child might. If I can’t see him, he can’t see me.

  As the gentle hum continued, she shoved the vibrator deeper then quickly pulled away her fingers.

  His hand lifted her chin. A kiss feathered her lips.

  She sighed into his mouth. “Can you hear it?” she whispered.

  “Only because I’m close to you like now. No one else will. I promise.”

  She opened her eyes, surprised to find him still so close, his lips hovering over hers. “I’m going to walk funny, trying to keep it there.”

  “Then everyone will know,” he said, amusement lightening the deep purr.

  He didn’t seem to care about that fact, almost as if he wished other men would guess and know he’d been the one responsible. The idea grew to a certainty with the slight curl of his lip and his dark, glittering stare. She drew back. “The roses?” she said, her voice choking.

  Shaken, but secretly thrilled, she left them in a vase on the counter, gathered her silver clutch, and followed him outside, placing her trust in his ability to keep her from making a complete fool out of herself tonight.

  * * *

  The night couldn’t have been more perfect—or more frustrating. Over thick steaks at Steers ’n’ Steaks, they shared stories from their past and talked about work, pretending everything was normal—just a date between two people who were getting to know each other.

  Beneath the innocuous chatter, sensual tension built, fueled by their mutual attraction and the wicked little secret they shared.

  When the egg was quiet, she had long moments to collect her composure, sip slowly at a glass of wine, and gather her scattered thoughts to keep up her end of the long conversation.

  When it hummed into life, she sat with her jaw slowly sagging, her eyelids dipping, and her hands clamping on the edge of the table as her libido rocketed.

  He knew just how far to take her before relenting, knew just when to jack up her desire to keep her hovering on that jagged edge of arousal.

  By the time he pulled his truck into his driveway, Amy’s excitement had her entire body quivering, her silky panties drenched, and a nasty spot soaking through the back of her short skirt.

  Her hand went to the door handle.

  “Wait for me. I’ll get that,” he said, tension adding a bit of rasp to his quiet tone.

  She watched him walk around the front of the truck, her gaze catching on the sexy curve of his mouth, the dark intent in his watchful eyes. Her body shivered so violently, she doubted she could walk to the front door.

  Logan opened her door and waited while she slid sideways to climb down, but his hands cupped her knees, halting her in place. Slowly, he pressed them open until her skirt stopped the movement. “Lie back.”

  His tone held such a note of command, that before she even gave a thought about what he asked and why, she found herself reclining, allowing him to shove up her skirt to her hips, and helping him bare herself by lifting her bottom for the fabric to bunch at her waist.

  “The scent of you in the cab…” A deep inhalation was followed by a soft sigh of air that she felt through the thin material covering her sex.

  Sweet Jesus. His head was between her legs, looking at her, smelling her. Fingers traced the length of her pussy through her panties, and then one dipped into her entrance like a small penis, sheathed in silk.

  Her thighs tensed at the intrusion. Her hand swept her belly, trying to still the little tremors that rippled across it.

  The finger withdrew and dragged upward, rubbing on her cloaked clit, sparking another wave of shivering arousal. Her thighs were lifted over strong shoulders, and he dragged her bottom to the edge of the seat. Fingers gently pushed aside the fabric, and his tongue stroked her.

  “I can feel the vibrations on my tongue,” he murmured. “I can hear them.”

  She could too, as well as the moist clasp of her labia around her entrance. She moaned then bit her lip to still her cries.

  “No one can hear you but me,” he growled. “Let me hear what I do to you. Let me know if I please you.”

  “If you please me?” she said, her voice rising in disbelief. “You’re killing me.”

  Soft chuckles accompanied short gusts of air that warmed her moist sex. Then his lips took her, suckling on her folds, and his tongue slid along the quivering edges.

  Fingers stretched her folds upward and cool air touched her swollen clit. Then warm, wet suctioning lips surrounded it, and she couldn’t hold back the high-pitched keening that tore at her throat.

  With her pussy filled with strengthening vibrations and his mouth and tongue nipping and circling on her clit, Amy couldn’t halt her headlong flight into ecstasy. Her head thrashed on the seat, her fingers threaded through his warm, thick hair and held him there until she slowly fell back to earth.

  Her panties slid back over her sex, her legs slid off his shoulders, and Logan pulled her upright.

  With her skirt around her waist, and her heart beating madly, Amy’s hand went to her hair to smooth it down, just to stall him for a moment while she gulped deep breaths of air. It was almost embarrassing how quickly she’d come.

  “Shall we go inside?” he asked, extending his open palm.

  Again, she didn’t hesitate and let him pull her from the truck.

  He led her inside his home. She glanced around, but the living room was darkened. With a similar layout as her own house, she knew he was leading her to his bedroom. Not the naughty room that faced the field.

  Inside the bedroom, lamps at each side of the bed cast a golden glow over a brown satin coverlet covering a massive, king-size bed.

  And although this would be their first time to make love completely, Logan left her standing at the end of the bed while he pulled his wallet from his pocket and dropped it and his keys on a wooden tray on the dresser. Things he probably did every day without thinking. He unbuttoned his cuffs, opened his shirt, and shrugged it off.

  Feeling a little forgotten, she asked, “Should I undress?”

  His head turned, his gaze narrowing, but not in an intimidating way. He seemed to be studying her. “Are you waiting for me to tell you?”

  Because she didn’t know what he expected, she shrugged. Logan wasn’t like any other man she’d ever dated. His needs, his tastes were beyond her comprehension. So were his expectations. “Should I?

  His smile, although warm, sent shivers along her skin and raised goose bumps along her arms. His fe
atures were taut. His eyebrows slightly drawn, darkening his eyes. “Do you know what I am?”

  “A deputy?”

  He shook his head. “Have you heard the term BDSM?”

  She nodded slowly. She’d seen the websites, the ones her sister sent her to. “The things you did with them—Joe Chavez and Sarah… That’s what you’re talking about?” At his slow nod, she continued. “Do you want to do that with me?” she asked, although not exactly sure she was ready for the answer.

  Sure, her curiosity had been whetted by her voyeuristic introduction, but it had been so long since she’d been with a man. She wanted tenderness. Comfort.

  “You’re afraid, but you’re willing, aren’t you?”

  She nodded quickly, before her courage deserted her.

  His chest lifted, and his features softened. “Someday. Maybe sooner than I think. For now, let’s go slowly. I want you undressed.”

  Because she didn’t want to extend this conversation, she reached to the zipper at the back of her dress.

  “I’d do that for you, but I want to watch. Do you understand?”

  “I know you can be a gentleman. But I understand. I watched you, after all.” She started the zipper down behind her neck then dropped her hands and reached behind again to lower it the length of her back. The fabric parted, cool air slipping beneath to lick at the perspiration beginning to gather between her shoulder blades.

  The dress slithered to the floor, and she stepped out of the dark silken pool then bent to take off the sandals and straightened.

  Standing in her the corset and panties, she should have felt more at ease. He’d seen her like this before.

  But his unrelenting stare didn’t give her a clue about what he really thought. Did he think her torso was too long? Too lacking in curves?

  “Turn around.”

  Again, without a moment’s thought, she did as he commanded, turning slowly. Now, this was a view she hadn’t offered him before, and she closed her eyes. She knew her ass was small.

  When her back was to him, he said, “Bend at the waist.”

  God, no. But she hesitated for only a moment, and then bent, bracing her hands on her knees.

  His footsteps drew close. The strap that bisected her buttocks was tugged, tightening it against her, and then dropped. Fingers slid beneath the crotch of her panties and tunneled into her. The egg and his fingers withdrew.

  He walked away, but still she remained bent. Some instinct told her she’d pleased him before with her obedience. His pleasure warmed her. However embarrassing presenting her ass for him to watch might be, she wanted to please him more than any woman ever had.

  Logan approached again. A palm cupped one cheek and squeezed, then cupped the other and patted it. “Your skin’s beautiful. Soft.”

  She’d loofah’d until her entire body was reddened, and had then smoothed on moisturizer lightly scented with mango and rose. She was damn glad she’d gone to the extra effort.

  Fingers plucked the ties of her corset, and it gradually loosened. She drew a deep breath.

  “Straighten and turn around.”

  She clutched the sagging garment to her chest as she turned.

  One dark eyebrow arched.

  Amy firmed her mouth and dropped her hands. The corset slipped just beneath her breasts, catching on the slim curves of her hips.

  His gaze dropped immediately to her breasts, which she knew were small with proportionately small nipples. There was barely enough curve for a man to cup inside his palm.

  “Are you sensitive there?” he asked.

  She nodded. Wasn’t every woman?

  “Very?

  “I don’t know,” she said, feeling a little breathless.

  “We’ll see.” His fingers curved around the dainty tips and pinched.

  Her breath hitched as pleasured arced, sending darts of heat toward her core.

  “Too much?” he asked.

  “Please…don’t stop.”

  He came closer, his fingers tugging and squeezing her tender tips. “I could suck all of you into my mouth,” he said in that deepening tone that made her shiver.

  “I know I’m small.”

  “You’re perfect.”

  She snorted. Her first act of dissension.

  He arched a dark brow. “You don’t think so?”

  Amy kept her gaze on a point on the wall beyond his shoulder as he continued to tease her nipples with alternating strong tugs and gentle rubs.

  “See?” he said, dropping his hands. “Perfect. They look as though they’re begging to be sipped.”

  The tips of her nipples were elongated and a deep, rosy brown. The areolas were slightly dimpled. Staring at herself, and knowing that he was watching her face for her reaction and not her chest, seemed somehow more erotic than his touches had been.

  “Take the rest of your clothes off and meet me in the bathroom.” Without a backward glance, he left her standing in the middle of his bedroom floor.

  The sound of water filling a tub galvanized her. She shimmied the corset over her hips, let it drop, and kicked it away. Then she pushed down her panties.

  She was hurrying to the bathroom door before she thought that maybe she shouldn’t act so eager. He liked her obedience, but he’d also enjoyed Sarah’s defiance. Would he become bored if she succumbed too quickly, if she surrendered herself completely to his whims?

  But she couldn’t think about that now. He might have made her come with his mouth and a shiny little egg, but her body still ached to be filled. If tonight was all she had, she wasn’t going to waste a moment on flashes of self-doubt.

  He was bent over the tub, fingers beneath the fall of water from the tap as he adjusted the temperature.

  “Shall I get into the tub?” she asked, waiting for him to turn, but she caught his reflection in the mirror and saw the way he gazed back at her, his nostrils flaring, his body tightening. She’d never felt sexier.

  “Not yet,” he finally replied, leaving the water running. He strode toward the counter, pulled a towel from the rack beside it, and placed it on the counter beside the sink. “Come over here.”

  She approached him just as he pulled open a drawer and pulled out an electric shaver. “Um…what’s that for?”

  “I’m going to shave your pussy before I bathe you.”

  Before he bathes me…? Wait, she rolled the conversation back. “You’re going to shave me. But why?”

  The corners of his mouth twitched. “Because it’s my preference. Do you have a problem with that?”

  She frowned. “No…no problem. But…Sarah wasn’t shaved.”

  “She isn’t mine.”

  Amy liked the sound of that. But for how long did he want that to be true? “And I am? Yours, I mean…? But we’re just getting to know each other.”

  “Sweetheart, we’ve been getting to know each other for weeks.” He opened the towel on top of the countertop, then turned his head toward her. A brow slid upward. “To catch the hairs…”

  For some reason, letting him shave her felt more intimate than anything he’d already done. She shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe, if you let me do this myself…”

  “You’d deny me the pleasure?”

  She didn’t understand how a man could derive pleasure from such a personal task. Something in her expression must have told him she was still hesitant, because he folded his arms over his chest, and his expression grew set and watchful.

  He was going to be firm on this point. Or was he testing her to see if she would obey? “I feel like I don’t know the rules here. I want to please you. I want this to be…perfect, but this…” she said waving her hand at the razor. “It’s embarrassing.”

  “How can this be more intimate, more embarrassing, than you letting me eat out your pussy?”

  Her face burned with the memory. Yeah, that had been her on the front seat of his truck, letting him have her in full view of anyone who might have driven by. “Fine,” she said, the word clipped. Sh
e strode toward him, heat in her cheeks.

  He gripped her waist, and before she could protest that she was too heavy, he’d lifted her easily to the countertop. “Oh,” she gasped.

  “Open your legs and lean back. Then scoot your ass forward. I need room. And I need to see.”

  Lord, she wished her thighs didn’t spread like butter over the edge of the counter, but she eased back, bracing a hand behind her for support, and then she slowly parted her legs.

  But he wasn’t satisfied, pressing against her inner thighs to widen them further. Then he trailed his fingertips over her still-moist folds, combing through her short curls. “Same color as the hair on your head,” he said, smiling slightly. “And thick.”

  Was it an unusual amount? She hadn’t thought so, but then again, she hadn’t seen many other pussies, not since gym class in high school anyway. “Would you just start?” she asked, agonized with humiliation.

  His gaze lifted from her sex. “I don’t like that you’re embarrassed.”

  And how am I supposed to be casual with this?

  Taking a deep breath, she struggled to relax. She had promised herself she would do anything for one night with him. If letting him shave her was the cost, so be it. Mustering up her courage, she went for boldness and tried to keep the tremor out of her voice. “Isn’t it your job to put me at ease?”

  A brow lifted, but he withheld further comment and picked up the electric shaver. “I’ll use this to clear away the bulk of it, but I’ll have to use a double-edged razor to make you smooth.”

  Self-doubt threatened to cripple her new adventure.

  Sure, his body was to die for. But so far, he hadn’t shown any interest in putting his amazing cock into action. She wondered if he’d changed his mind, or if he had more “improvement projects” to complete before he’d be satisfied she was good enough for him.

  The razor hummed louder than the egg had, and her body seemed conditioned to respond to the sound. Her blood raced faster, heating her up, causing perspiration to gather on her forehead and upper lip. Her embarrassment faded as she worried about hiding her arousal, which seeped steadily toward the lips he shaved.

  His thumb brushed over one side of her folds and the razor followed, the teeth of the razor gliding across her skin and lifting tufts of her brown hair, which he efficiently plucked away and dropped into the trash can beside his feet.