Summer Love by Piper Rayne
Chapter Five
This was a completely unexpected development and Colt wondered, for a wild and crazy moment, if his sister was playing matchmaker. She knew damn well he had spent most of Saturday night with Sierra. Would she deceive both of them like this? The answer was a swift hell yes. And he was glad she’d forced the issue. Judging by the faintly horrified look on Sierra’s face, she didn’t feel the same and that tweaked his pride.
Wincing a little at the pain in his back, he swung himself up to a sitting position, letting the sheet barely cover his junk. Her eyes immediately trailed down his bare chest, appreciation replacing the horror. Okay, so maybe this wasn’t so bad. He could play this. He wasn’t the bad boy of country music for nothing.
“Look, I’m sorry if this caught you off guard and if you feel uncomfortable. If there is someone else I could see, that would be fine. My back is killing me.” He twisted his face up in pain. It wasn’t a total lie, just a slight exaggeration to play on her sympathies.
And it worked. Her professionalism and need to help him overcame her reticence. “Of course not. This will be fine. Besides, Mondays are slow and so I don’t have any other staff on, so I’m kind of it. Please lie down.”
Her eyes kept straying to his chest and he smirked, then groaned in true discomfort as he tried to settle back on the table. She hurried to help him get comfortable. “You really did a good job on your back, didn’t you?”
“I swear Chase trained that horse to throw me intentionally, as a hazing or something,” he grumbled, the touch of her hand already inflaming his senses.
He put his face in the hole in the table and she pulled the sheet away. Soft, instrumental music began playing, the kind he really hated. Other people probably found it relaxing, though. Her hands returned after a moment and she glided them over his body, the oil making them slick and warm. Damn, this was going to be an uncomfortable massage. She ran her hands firmly over his back, and he groaned, his mind immediately turning to her bedroom and visions of them in a very different position, her hands touching him in a lot more personal way.
“Is this hurting you?” she asked quietly.
Not in the way you’re thinking. He had to get a handle on his reactions. “Not really. Everything is just sore.” Which was the truth.
“I can see that. You really did a number on your back. At least there isn’t any bruising, so it’s just soft tissue spasm. You may need more than one session.”
Damn, she was going to kill him. The sweet almond scent of the oil teased his senses and now he would forever associate it with Sierra. Her fingers began to dig in harder, finding knots, and this time he moaned for real. She paused.
“Don’t stop. It hurts, but I need it.” Yeah, he liked being tortured.
She worked on him for a few more minutes and he tried to focus on her hands. That was a bad idea, so he turned his attention to the music. God, it grated on his nerves. He’d had massages before. None had ever turned him on quite so much and his dick was pushing against the table, creating a whole new kind of pain that rivaled his back.
She cleared her throat. “I never thanked you for what you did Saturday night.”
“You left me a voicemail.” His tone was short because, yeah, he was still a little irked that she hadn’t actually spoken to him.
“I’m sorry. I was embarrassed for how I acted. Are your boots okay?”
“They’re fine,” he lied. “How did you feel the next morning?”
She laughed, the sound almost musical. “Like a herd of wild buffalo had run over me. The bottle of water and aspirin helped a lot. Thank you.”
“I’ve had some experience with hangovers. I almost stayed to make you my famous cure, but I didn’t think you’d be comfortable with that.”
“Probably not. God, did I really throw myself at you?”
He turned his head and grinned up at her. “At me, on me. Let’s not quibble. Feel free to do it again. Anytime. Well, at me, not on me. I can’t afford another pair of boots.”
She rolled her eyes but laughed. “I’ll bet that’s not true, though I would have been sorry if I ruined them. They were nice boots, if impractical.”
“Why not?” He propped himself up on his elbows despite the protestations of his lower back. He now had a second chance with Sierra, but he sensed he had to play it cool and easy. “Why can’t we have a nice dinner and see where this goes?”
“Because you’re leaving and I’m staying. This can go nowhere.”
“Does everything have to go somewhere? Can’t we just have fun?” Yup, play it cool. He had to ease her into this. She was not looking for anything more serious, which was ironic since he was usually the one running away as fast as his two feet could move. He sensed she’d be worth it. He could be patient.
She paused, her hands stilling on his ribs as she pondered his words. “I don’t do fun. I don’t have time for that. Not usually.”
She was clearly conflicted and he found he wanted to know why. No, he needed to know. His gaze bore into hers, holding her hostage. “Just one dinner. Don’t you want to see if the heat is there without the alcohol?”
A long pause, then she said quietly, “Yes.”
Her hands remained on his lower back, the touch an agonizing pleasure that was making his position face-down on the table really uncomfortable. Hearing her admit her attraction to him, when he’d expected her to deny it without the fog of alcohol, was doing incredible things to his libido. It was all he could do to not roll over and start the date right now. He wondered if anyone else had ever had that kind of reaction during a massage and why there wasn’t a hole in the table south of his face to accommodate it. Somehow, he hoped he was the only asshole to respond like that to her.
He forced himself to listen to the godawful music that made him want to claw his ears off and think about anything other than her sweet scent and the touch of her hands. After a moment, when he did nothing else but lie on the table, she dug back into her work, attacking his knots with renewed vigor. Sadly, even the pain didn’t deflate his interest.
After several long, agonizing minutes that did loosen some of the spasms, she trailed her hands up his back a few times to soothe the muscles.
“Roll over so I can work on your front.”
If only she meant to satisfy the new craving in his body . . . But she was being the consummate professional. More’s the pity.
He groaned. “Yeah, I think I’ll stay where I am for now. Unless you want to see more of me than you already have.”
She scoffed. “Colt, trust me. You have nothing I haven’t already seen. Now roll over so I can work on your legs and stretch you out a bit more.”
He gave a strained laugh. “You asked for it.”
Yeah, maybe he should have stayed on his stomach, though before she averted her eyes, he saw the appreciation in them and the male inside him preened.
* * *
That Saturday night, Sierra tried on several outfits before settling on a long denim skirt, a peasant blouse, and a pair of cowboy boots. She had no idea what to wear for a date with a country music star and she was damned sure she had nothing in her closet that would suit. He would have to deal with who she was.
Maybe she was being unfair. Colt never seemed to put on airs the few times she’d met him, except for his fancy boots. She was just nervous. There was something between them, more than sexual heat, though she was more than willing to explore part of their attraction. But she wasn’t ready to pull up stakes and live the travelling life, not even for love. She’d been there, done that, watched her mother do the same thing. Love was unreliable and if she followed him, soon she’d be stranded in some strange place, with nothing to her name and no way to support herself. She’d be her mother all over again and she’d be damned if she’d allow that.
She’d spent far too much time building her life here in Granite Junction, becoming a small business owner, gaining a reputation. Now, she was poised for more growth, right on the cusp of being ready to expand to her real dream of a full spa at the guest ranch at Redemption Ranch. She and Tara had been talking about the spa since Tara opened the guest ranch and only now was Sierra ready, with the clientele, the materials, and the collateral to do it. Leaving Granite Junction to follow a guy on the road was not in the plan.
Her doorbell rang and she jumped. She opened the door and sucked in a breath. Damn, he was as sexy as she remembered, even without alcohol coloring her perception. His crooked grin lit a fire deep in her belly and she knew she was in deep trouble. She was ready to throw caution to the wind and seize the chance that she had screwed up one week ago—for one night.
He held out his hand and electricity arced between them. Yup, she was in trouble.
He took her to Montana Prime in neighboring Martinsburg where they enjoyed an amazing dinner of locally grown steak, a few drinks, and a decadent flourless chocolate cake that he insisted she indulge in, even when she protested. Heat in his eyes flared as she enjoyed the chocolate, and she made sure to tease him as much as possible. She’d never had so much fun at a dinner as she’d had with Colt. The meal felt like foreplay, not something to rush through to get to the main event.
Even better was the conversation. Colt was easy to talk to, comfortable and casual, even when a few fans came to the table asking for autographs. He graciously spoke to all of them, even took selfies with a couple of younger women, but made it clear that Sierra was his priority. She hadn’t expected that, even when one woman was clearly making an offer of more than a picture. He politely shut her down and turned his focus back on Sierra.
She felt like she was the only woman in the room and it was damn dangerous. When the music started from the bar area, Colt stood. “Would you like to dance?”
“A guy who wants to dance?”
A slow, sexy grin crossed his face. “Any reason to get you in my arms again.”
She took his hand and let him lead her to the dance floor. He pulled her close and they seemed to fit perfectly. His arms gently encircled her, his hands warm and strong on her lower back. She looped her arms around his neck and the strands of his hair touched her fingers, so she finally gave into the temptation she’d had since last week and tangled her fingers in them, her fingernails scraping his scalp lightly. He groaned into her ear.
“Sierra, stop that or I’ll embarrass myself on the dance floor.”
She chuckled. “I’ll just have to distract you.”
“You’re doing a fine job of that already,” he grumbled good-naturedly.
She laughed, charmed despite herself, but lowered her hands to stroke the muscles of his upper body. She was a sucker for a great body and Colt certainly had one, as she’d seen up close and personal on the massage table. She was hoping she could see it again in a less professional setting this time.
The song changed to an older duet and he stiffened, nothing anyone else would have noticed. When his muscles tensed under her hands, she felt it. He lifted his head, a faintly irritated look on his face. She recognized the song as one his parents sang, one of their most popular ones. She hated seeing him uncomfortable and, while she loved being pressed up against him like this, she had something else in mind to ease his tension, maybe redirect it a bit.
She stretched up and pressed her lips to his ear. “I have an idea, if you want to do something else.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Other than holding you? It’d have to be really good.”
She gave a secret smile. “I have a feeling it will be better than good, cowboy.”
