Chapter Ten
Shauna
S hauna had once gone to see a burlesque ballet in Las Vegas where the showgirls used duct tape to cover their vaginas. She was willing to bet that the duct tape was a lot more comfortable than these string panties. She couldn’t imagine surviving a full workday in them.
She did like the way they looked when she checked herself out in the mirror, although she debated returning the matching bra to the dresser drawer.
It was barely seven o’clock, so she had an hour to decide.
Taryn had left for the ranch more than an hour ago, and Shauna had been dithering around ever since.
She was applying eyeliner when someone rang the front doorbell.
Her hand stalled. He was early. She wasn’t ready. And she hadn’t expected him to come to the front door. She’d assumed he’d use the one off the kitchen. What if the neighbors saw him?
She dropped the thin brush and jammed her arms in the sleeves of her robe.
The only thing worse than him standing on display on her front doorstep would be someone seeing her answer the door in these panties.
She tied the sash of her robe as she rushed down the hall.
She threw the front door open. Except, it wasn’t Nix waiting for her.
“Did I come at a bad time?” Pam Harvey asked.
Shauna clutched the lapels of the terry cloth robe in one hand, praying Pam couldn’t tell what she wore underneath.
She swung the door wide. “No. Not at all. Would you like to come in?”
Inviting Nora’s mother inside was the polite thing to do. But Nix could arrive any time now, and he expected to find her alone.
Pam stepped across the threshold into the small entry, giving her a clear view of Shauna’s open-concept living room and kitchen, and the bottle of wine on the island. Shauna didn’t know if Nix was a wine drinker—or a drinker at all—so she had a six-pack of assorted craft beers in the fridge.
Pam took note of the bottle of wine, Shauna’s robe, and her partially applied makeup. The string panties burned Shauna’s cheeks—fore and aft—like a badly kept secret. Whatever conclusion Pam drew, it couldn’t be far off the mark. She didn’t seem stupid.
“I can’t stay,” Pam said. “I’m here for Nora’s things. I also wanted to say how sorry I am about last night. Nora’s grounded for two weeks, but maybe after that, Taryn can come to our house so the girls can hang out.”
Shauna had no trouble reading the subtext on that.
Nora wasn’t allowed to come to Taryn’s house anymore.
It puzzled her how the girls had become friends in the first place, because on the surface, they didn’t have a whole lot in common.
And while it was easy to think that maybe Taryn enjoyed leading Nora astray, Shauna didn’t believe that was true.
Taryn liked Nora. The girls had been having fun together last night. Harmless fun.
She should be happy that Taryn was still welcome in the Harvey household. She was. But she wondered if it was because Nora’s parents liked Taryn, or if they liked her connection to Dan McKillop and the Endeavour Ranch more. Because the odds weren’t stacked in her sister’s favor.
“I’m sure Taryn would love that. I’ll get Nora’s things,” she said.
She found Nora’s school backpack and the clothes she’d abandoned on Taryn’s bedroom floor. She packed the clothes into a plastic bag and delivered everything to Pam.
Pam lingered as if she had more to say. “There’s a rumor going around,” she began, then waited, as if hoping Shauna might fill in the blanks.
Shauna decided to wait too, on the off chance that the rumor wasn’t the one Taryn had started, but no such luck.
“One of the men running the bull riding clinic might have an unhealthy interest in Taryn. She’s a pretty girl, and… mature for her age.”
While labeling Taryn as mature for her age was a stretch, a lot rode on Pam’s definition.
“If I believed that, I would have gone to Dan with it by now,” Shauna said.
“It doesn’t matter whether you believe it. What matters is who else might. Especially”—and Pam picked her words with great care—“when you consider the source.”
The source being Taryn. Nora must have said something to her mother about it. Maybe her mother had asked.
A loud crash in the backyard startled both women. The sliding patio doors in the small dining area next to the kitchen faced the front entry, where they were standing. All they could see in the glass was their reflections.
“Raccoons must be into the garbage,” Shauna said.
Except she didn’t keep her garbage in the backyard.
She kept food waste in the freezer. The more probable cause was that Nix had arrived, seen Pam’s car in the drive, and tried to vault the shaky fence that topped a retaining wall at the rear of the house. She hoped he wasn’t hurt.
“You shouldn’t store your garbage outside. It attracts bears,” Pam said.
“I have one of those bear-proof bins.”
“It still attracts them.”
Shauna waited until she heard Pam start her car, then ran to open the patio door, afraid of what she might find.
Nix lounged in a chair on the deck. To her relief, he looked all in one piece and a 9-1-1 call wouldn’t be needed. The fence, however, had a man-sized hole in it that was going to be difficult to explain.
She didn’t care about the fence. Given her conversation with Pam, keeping their relationship private might no longer be the right way to go.
Nix surged to his feet when he saw her, then kissed her in a manner that served as a reminder they didn’t have the kind of relationship they could take out in public.
He really knew how to say hello to a woman.
She rested her forearms on his shoulders and her forehead on his chin and struggled to think while catching her breath.
“We have a problem,” she said, although it seemed a lot less pressing now than it had a few moments ago.
“Nah. I’ll fix your fence.” He dipped his chin and nuzzled her throat. “It just so happens I’m kind of an expert.”
“Not the fence. It’s about Taryn.”
“Can’t it wait? For a woman who claims she only wants me for sex, you sure do like to talk.” He crooked a finger into the front of her robe and peeked inside. She’d left the bra on, and a low growl of approval rumbled out of his throat. “Right now, she’s not the sister I’m interested in.”
His finger dipped under the lacy cup of her bra, and she made up her mind.
It could wait.
Nix backed her through the open patio door and into the house. One arm around her, he reached behind him and slid the door closed.
“Which way to the bedroom?” he asked.
They were going to skip the formalities and get straight down to business. She was good with that approach. It removed any guesswork. No need to pretend this was something it wasn’t.
She took his hand and led him down the hallway to her room.
She’d been too caught up in her work to invest energy in decorating, so the room was plain.
No wall hangings, no added touches, not even curtains, other than a privacy blind on the window.
The full-length mirror hung from the back of the bedroom door.
The queen-sized bed, the focal point of the room, had been an impulse buy.
She’d spotted it on sale when shopping for furniture.
They’d had spontaneous sex against the door in a conference room. Their first planned night together had been interrupted before it got to this stage, but now, here they were. What happened next?
Nix unfastened the belt of her robe with a light tug on the knot. The sides of her robe fell apart, exposing Mayhem’s Private Moment items she’d purchased for him. His jaw went slack.
Then, he tucked his tongue back in place. “So, this is what dressed for success means. I always wondered. Why don’t you take a twirl, so I get the full effect.”
She dropped the robe to the floor, slowly, then turned, looking over her shoulder to gauge his reaction, and see if the spin classes paid off.
“Holy sh—dang,” he corrected himself. He hauled his shirt over his head, then dropped it, and now it was her turn to stare. No man who worked out in a gym had abs like that. Those looked rock solid. “Come here,” he said.
She touched his face with both hands as she kissed him.
He unfastened the front clasp on her bra with an ease that spoke of experience and took any fumbling awkwardness out of the way.
His hands slid over the bare cheeks of her buttocks.
He pressed her against the hard length of his erection, still sheathed in his jeans.
She unfastened the button at the waistband and eased his zipper down so she could get her fingers inside and touch him.
He caught her wrist. “How do you feel about a little fantasizing?” he said. “Playing out a few dreams about you I’ve had?”
Her breath caught in her chest. “You’ve dreamed about me?”
“Every da—danged night since we met.”
The amused frustration she heard in his voice highlighted a few fantasies of her own. She wasn’t about to lie. So far, her experience with sex had been good, but not what she’d consider mind-blowing, and this was her chance to find out what had been lacking—for future reference, of course.
“Tonight, we’ll play out your fantasies. Next time though, it’s my turn,” she said.
“Deal. Safe word?”
She contemplated the request. How did she feel about sexual activity that might require a safe word to stop? Why on earth not? He’d abandoned an evening of sex to rescue an orphaned calf. He was no risk to her safety. Besides, she was curious. Very much so.
“Lawyer,” she said, because if she felt in any way threatened, that reminder was a sure showstopper.
“Lawyer it is.” He grinned at her as he stripped off his jeans and his briefs. “You won’t need to use it,” he added. “I just want you to know you’re in good hands. Now. Turn around and take off those panties. Real slow. Then give them to me. I’m taking them home.”