Summer Love by Piper Rayne

Chapter Two

Colt wasn’t sure why her question rubbed him the wrong way. Lord knew the old Colt would have jumped at that exact opportunity. Hell, the old Colt was only a few months ago, in reality, yet he no longer wanted to just be the guy women could have a good time with, have a quick one night or so, and go on their merry ways. It figured. The one time he decided he wanted more and found a woman who intrigued him, and she was the one looking for a good time.

Somewhere, God was laughing his ass off. Or maybe the ladies were right and God was a woman. It would explain a whole helluva lot.

He stood there for a solid minute on the dance floor, pondering his options while she stared at him, swaying a bit. Maybe the movement was due to the music, but it was more likely due to the alcohol already in her system, judging by the slightly unfocused look in her eyes, the dreamy smile on her face, and the way her head occasionally bobbed. She was bombed, or on her way to being there. It wasn’t safe for her to be alone at the bar. Damn it.

Her smile quickly turned to a frown and her eyes narrowed. “You know, if you’re not interested, I can find someone else.” She started to turn, stumbling on her boot heels.

He caught her elbow, holding her gently. “I didn’t say that. How much have you had to drink tonight?”

She tried to pull her arm away. “Just a few shots of some really delicious pink stuff and a couple of beers. We were celebrating Emma’s upcoming wedding.”

“My sister was at that party too tonight, too. We could hear you ladies in the backroom even out in the bar area. Sounded like a crazy time.”

She grinned, a little mischievously. “Yeah, I think we may have gotten out of hand the last time we had a bachelorette party here. For Tara Morgan. The guys tend to watch out for their wives so they don’t get arrested.”

He laughed. He’d heard the stories and hadn’t really believed them, but Ty had assured him they were true. He couldn’t imagine his sister being that wild, then he saw the women streaming out of the back room, wearing penis necklaces and suggestive labels on their cowboy hats, and he’d become a believer.

“So now you’re just dancing and having some fun?”

She let her gaze travel over him again. “Trying to. You interested?”

Earlier that evening he had been done with the whole scene. Meeting her had changed his mind, though it wasn’t going to go as far as she might probably wanted. Not as drunk as she was. He wondered if she would be acting this way if she was sober. He scanned the crowd for the friends she had been dancing with, but they were long gone, maybe with hookups of their own. Either way, she had been left alone.

“I could be. Want to take a break?”

He gently steered her toward an empty table and gestured for a waitress, so he could order a couple of waters. They sat down, her with a loud sigh.

“Thank God. My feet are killing me!”

He grinned. She really was cute and sexy. He would have loved to get closer, maybe spend a little horizontal time with her, but that wasn’t in the cards tonight. “Nice to meet you, Sierra. I’m Colt.”

She gave him an odd look. “I know.”

* * *

Keeping up with a drunk girl determined to have fun gave Colt a whole new appreciation for the keepers he’d had when he’d been starting out on the road and was young, dumb, and wild. Sierra was absolutely insistent on cutting loose, Montana’s version of Girls Gone Wild or something, and he was just as determined to make sure she didn’t do anything she’d regret, even if it wasn’t him. Though his cock wanted her to do him in the worst way, and he’d probably have zipper marks permanently imprinted on it after this evening.

No, this time his brain was firmly in control and he was keeping it that way, even if Sierra was determined to have fun with anyone willing to dance with her or buy her a drink. He’d tried to keep her corralled in a safe space, but he turned his back once and she had drifted off with a sketchy looking poser wearing a too-clean hat and boots. Granted, plenty of people thought Colt wasn’t a real cowboy since he didn’t work cattle and wore the attire. Fuck them.

When she started stumbling more than dancing, swaying almost off her feet and needing him to catch her a few times, he decided to call it a night. He wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her up. She fell against him, her arms draped around his neck, pulling his head down to her face.

“Dance with me,” she slurred, tugging him toward the dance floor, almost stumbling backward.

A slow song came on. One of his songs. She pulled his hand, the pure joy on her face and her excitement about dancing to one of his songs charming him despite his determination to get her home. Before he could follow her, another guy smoothly stepped between them, breaking their contact.

“I’ll dance with you, darlin’.”

Her face went immediately blank and she recoiled, her hand dropping to her side. The guy advanced on her with a smile, but she clearly was not feeling it. Anger flashed through Colt, and he had to push down the urge to rip the guy’s arms off. Instead, he laid a hand firmly on the other man’s shoulder, halting his progress.

“She already has a partner.”

He shifted the other man aside and pushed past him, but the other guy wasn’t giving up so easily. He grabbed Colt’s arm and whirled him around, but Colt had been in his share of bar fights and expected the motion. His fist clipped the other guy in the jaw, sending him reeling to the ground. Before the cowboy could get up, Zane Calabrese, a big, tatted guy who owned The Rock was there, holding the guy by the back of his shirt.

“That’s enough, Tommy. Time to sleep it off somewhere.” And he hauled him off the dance floor and toward the door.

Colt turned to Sierra and held out his hand. “I think it’s time to go.”

She looked so crestfallen that it almost broke his heart. “Just one more dance?”

He sighed. Getting close to her was tempting fate too much, his blood already pounding, demanding he hold her close in his arms, and then take her to bed all night long. Damn. He twirled her onto the dance floor, easily catching the flow of the music.

Sierra laid her head on his shoulder, falling into the rhythm with him like they’d danced together for years instead of one night. She fit him perfectly, as if her body had been molded just for him. He slid his hands down to her hips to pull her more firmly against him. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she sighed against his neck, relaxing into his hold. He closed his eyes and let the music take him away, along with the sounds, the sway of Sierra’s body, her soft scent, and the sweet tickle of her breath on his skin.

The song ended and another one began, this one faster, and Sierra let out a whoop, almost deafening him. Her hands immediately went in the air and she began dancing. Unfortunately, her body didn’t quite catch up with the change in speed, especially when she closed her eyes, and Colt caught her just as she lurched and before she fell.

Zane appeared and gave Colt a suspicious look. “She should be getting home. I can get her there.”

“I’ve got this.” He held her close by his side, not willing to let her go, not yet. Zane’s frown turned more forbidding and Colt swallowed hard. “I’m going to take her home and put her to bed. Alone. I promise.”

Zane’s eyes narrowed. “See that you treat her right. She’s got friends.”

After a final warning glare, Zane turned and stalked away. Colt sucked in a deep breath then braced his arm behind Sierra, who was still swaying to the music, eyes closed, as if just enjoying the sound. Yeah, he understood that. He sometimes sat like that, eyes closed, letting the sounds soothe his soul.

“Time to get you home, Sierra girl. Let’s go.”

He swung by his table and grabbed his jacket and keys, updated his sister and Ty quickly, while ignoring their amused looks, and ushered Sierra out the door before she could wander off again.

He maneuvered her to the big pickup truck he had rented for his time in Granite Junction and opened the passenger door. He started to help her in when she leaned against the opening and cocked her head at him.

“You gonna kiss me?”

“You’re hell on my good intentions, Sierra. I don’t think we should be tempting fate like that, especially not when we’re going to do nothing about it. Now hop on in there.”

She narrowed her deep blue eyes, anger flashing. “So, I’m not good enough for you? Small-town girl is not worldly enough for the big-city guy?”

He froze. “No, that’s not it. I don’t take advantage of drunk girls and darlin’, I don’t want you to regret this in the morning.”

Her face went completely blank. “Fine. I can get myself a ride home. You don’t have to pity me anymore.”

She tried to push past him, but he shot his hand up against the opening of the door, blocking her exit from the truck, completely confused about her change in attitude. “What just happened? I don’t pity you. Hell, I’ve gotten drunk off my ass plenty of times, and done plenty of things I’m not proud of. And I sure as hell wish now I’d had someone around to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid.”

She wrinkled her nose at him as if his boots were covered in cow shit. “Trust me. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

He kept his arm exactly where it was, barring her from walking away, and she met his gaze, haughty and proud as if she were the goddamn queen of England. He almost laughed but sensed that wouldn’t go over well. “I don’t know what the hell you were looking for tonight, but I guarantee you that you’d regret the hell out of it in the cold light of morning. Most of those yahoos would not be half as decent as you deserve, and you’d have to face them every time you turn around.”

“Why the hell do you think I picked you? I’m sure you’re not sticking around. No one does if they can help it.” Her voice was bitter and there was a slight hitch in it as she reacted to the chill in the air.

Fuck. He was trying to be a gentleman and that wasn’t going to change, no matter what she said. He draped the jacket he was holding across her shoulders.

“Let me take you home, Sierra. Please.”

She looked over his shoulder and he twisted, seeing people starting to stream out of the bar. Closing time, reminded him of the song lyrics. You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.

She sucked in a breath and let it out, her breath hanging in the air between them. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I? Fine, take me home, Dudley Do-Right.”

A laugh burst out of him before he could stop it. Man, if anyone could see him now. The last thing anyone would call him was a do-gooder. Yet here he was, passing up a sure thing because he didn’t want to take advantage. Shit, he’d slept with drunk girls—granted, not passing-out drunk and usually when he was drunk, too—but there was something sad and desperate about Sierra that tugged at him. Not desperate in the way so many girls were that he met on the road, but more like she wanted to escape something, even if it was for one night. Hell, he’d tried that route, escaping through music, alcohol, and even women. He could tell her that it rarely worked. Your problems always found you again, waiting for you at the foot of your bed like a twenty-pound Maine coon cat and just as loud.

Sensing she wouldn’t welcome his advice, he helped her into the truck and closed the door, then headed to the driver’s side. He paused for a moment and saw Zane watching him from the doorway, his gaze laser-focused on him. Colt tipped his hat to Zane and got a head jerk in response. Yeah, that was a scary motherfucker. He didn’t want to cross him.

* * *

Sierra wrapped the edges of the denim jacket around her and tried not to suck in deep breaths of the manly smell that permeated the fabric. God, she missed the smell of a man. The leather, the musk, the rugged maleness, especially when it wasn’t tainted by fancy cologne or aftershave, or worse, by cow shit. She hadn’t dated anyone in a long time. Her last boyfriend had worked at the local bank and his cologne was overpowering, not sexy at all.

This guy, Colt, wasn’t a real cowboy, just a famous musician, playing the part of a cowboy. His hat, his boots, his clothes were too clean and he didn’t have the ranch smell about him. He didn’t smother himself with cologne or anything else so she could easily just get to the truth of him. Dancing that slow song almost undid her, when her face had been buried in his neck and she was lost to the sensation. She could blame it on any number of shots or beers, but the reality was it was the unique magic that was Colt. And damn if he wasn’t a fine-looking man.

Just her luck she’d found a guy who had a conscience and didn’t want to be a one-nighter, instead wanted to protect her. What were the odds?

The world spun around her and her stomach threatened to empty all over the front seat of his fancy truck. Maybe not having sex was a better idea. She might not be up for all that bouncing around or even the spectacular orgasm she was sure Colt could provide. The way he danced showed he knew how to move, and the way she felt when he touched her… Well, she’d felt the fireworks deep inside even though he hadn’t done much more than hold her hand and lower back, nothing sexy at all. Not for lack of trying on her part.

They pulled up to the two-family house she directed him to and she laid her head back against the seat, blinking at the faded green building, praying the ground would stop spinning before she had to set foot outside the truck. The door of the cab opened and he stood in front of her, a half-smile on his face, as if he knew exactly how she was feeling.

“Need some help getting to your door?”

“You were just going to dump me on the front lawn? Not very gentlemanly,” she retorted.

He leaned against the door, assessing her thoughtfully. “Of course not. I’m just trying to decide if I should carry you or if you can walk with some assistance.”

She followed his gaze down to the ground and immediately regretted it when her whole body seemed to follow the motion of her eyes.

“Whoa there. I think it’s time to get you inside.”

He unbuckled her seat belt and slid her out of the truck, bracing her against his side. With his other hand, he slammed the door, and then half carried her to her front door. She flung her arm around his neck and giggled against his shoulder.

“Okay. Keys?”

She held them up and he took them from her, opening her door and helping her inside. She stumbled and pushed him against the wall, her hands curving around his back, and she smiled up at him, a sexy look in her eyes. She rose on her tiptoes, her breath teasing his lips. “Now I have you exactly where I want you.”

“Oh really?” His hands fit loosely on her hips, not pushing her away but not pulling her close, either.

She pressed her body against his, feeling the hard lines, his firm muscles under his shirt and jeans, along with his erection prodding her. He wasn’t as immune to her as he pretended to be. She feathered kisses along his jaw. “Kiss me, Colt.”

“You seem to be doing that already.”

She cocked her head. “Is that enough for you?”

He groaned and his hands grabbed her ass, bringing her up against him more fully, slanting his lips over hers, his tongue stroking her lips, before delving deep inside to tangle with hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck to grip the silky strands of his hair. She sank into the moment. It was as glorious as she had expected. Her whole body lit up from the contact with his, and she rubbed against him, wrapping a leg around him as he kneaded her ass. Heat zinged through her, sending warmth and fire south, soaking her panties in an instant. She glided sinuously against his thigh, trying to get a harder touch on that one spot to send her over.

She broke the kiss and her head fell back so he could trail kisses down her throat then to the pulse beating wildly at the base of her neck. He lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes dark with passion.

Her stomach lurched. “Please don’t take what I’m about to do as a reflection of what we just did.”

She didn’t make it to the bathroom before she lost what little she had left in her stomach.

Yeah, she was winning at seduction. Maybe there was a reason she didn’t have a lover.