Shaken (Colorado Bold Book 1) Page 3

  He came right afterward, groaning as he claimed her.

  Somehow, they climbed the stairs to the bedroom. Anne collapsed, exhausted, on that big four-poster bed. In the predawn light, Evan roused and possessed her again. They slept.

  Anne awoke to the smell of coffee and bacon. Coffee…she needed coffee. Her now dry clothes were set out on the bed. Her mood sobered; the time to leave was fast approaching.

  A quick shower later, and she dressed in the ruined clothes from last night. The house was quiet. Anne sought out the enticing breakfast aromas emanating from the kitchen. No Evan. A note lay on the counter.

  Good morning, sleepyhead. There’s bacon and scrambled eggs in the microwave. Come out to the barn when you’ve eaten.

  The food was delicious. Gotta love a man who can cook.

  Anne poured another cup of coffee and headed for the porch to bask in the early morning sunlight. A meadowlark, his yellow breast puffed, sat on a fence post singing. Chickens were already about, scratching up bugs and clucking to each other. A lone rooster crowed.

  Evan stood inside the center of a circular corral located near a huge weather-beaten barn. He held a whip. A spirited gray horse, its tail held high in the air, trotted around the pen. Evan took a step to his left and snapped the whip. The horse spun on its hind feet and changed direction.

  Anne set down her coffee, donned her muddy mismatched shoes, and limped to the corral for a closer look.

  “Good morning,” she called out.

  “Hey, gorgeous. I’ll be right with you.” Evan sidestepped to his right and cracked the whip again. The gray horse spun in the opposite direction, moving away from Evan.

  “Don’t hurry on my account. I love watching you work.”

  The whip never touched the horse; the colt reacted to the sound of the snap and Evan’s body movements. The young colt soon worked up a sweat from his exertions.

  “Whoa, boy. That’s enough for one day.” Evan’s voice was calm and controlled “Easy, boy.”

  Evan pulled a brush from his back pocket and held it up. After a snort or two, the colt relaxed and allowed Evan to brush him. Evan kept up a constant stream of low-pitched murmurs as he worked his way from the head to its tail. Damn if he wasn’t using the same approach on that horse as he’d used on her last night.

  Stroke…murmur…rub…whisper. The colt’s ear flicked back every now and then at Evan as he worked.

  Anne’s heart beat faster as he groomed the colt. She drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She slipped her tongue between her teeth to lick her tender bottom lip; her skin tingled with the need to have his hands on her yet again. Oh my God, is he turning me into a nymphomaniac? She had better leave before she embarrassed herself.

  Anne nearly fell as she turned to head back to the house. Damn shoes. Kicking off the shoe with the remaining heel, she held it out to him. “Evan, can you knock this off before I break an ankle?”

  “Sure, no problem.” He reached into a bucket of tools and extracted a hammer. One quick whack, and he held the red heel in his hand.

  Anne returned the shoe to her foot and walked cautiously to her car. Evan followed.

  Her Bug turned out not to be very damaged. The shattered windshield was situated primarily on the passenger side. The car appeared to be drivable. Evan tinkered under the hood and had it started in no time.

  As she was about to drive away, Anne remembered the scarves. No way was she leaving without satisfying her curiosity. Anne rolled down her window and beckoned him over, smiling as she remembered how he’d looked naked the night before. She would be ninety before she forgot this man and how he made her feel.

  “Evan, I have a question.” She let her gaze linger on his sexy mouth and squirmed in her seat as she committed to memory the naughty things he had done to her with it.

  “Yes, Anne?” Evan arched an eyebrow.

  “My curiosity is killing me. What are the scarves for?” Her face grew warm from the blush she knew deepened the color in her cheeks.

  “And what scarves would those be?” One corner of his mouth quirked up in a half smile.

  “The scarves tied on the posts of your bed…you know…the black ones on the headboard and footboard.”

  He leaned closer, took her head in his hands, kissed her hard and long. His mouth mere inches from hers, Evan drawled, “If you want to know, you’ll have to come back and find out.”

  With that cryptic statement, her cowboy turned his back and walked into the house, her red heel tucked into the back pocket of his jeans.

  Chapter 4

  “I can’t believe that you, Anne Rutledge, had a one-night stand with a hunky cowboy out in the middle of God-knows-where!”

  Perhaps I shouldn’t have told Macy about Evan. Anne gave a little unladylike snort as she took another sip of Chablis. Blame it on the wine. She had as much a chance of undoing that slip as she did of forgetting the encounter with Evan two weeks ago. And she didn’t have alcohol to blame for that particular lapse in judgment.

  “It does sound a bit out of character, doesn’t it?”

  “Out of character? Only about as much as me joining a nunnery.”

  Anne almost spat the wine all over herself. She laughed and choked at the same time. “Do you even know what a nunnery is?”

  “I bet I know more about a nunnery than you know about one-night stands.”

  Anne had to concede the truth in that. Macy had been Anne’s best friend ever since high school, but when it came to sexual morality, they were polar opposites. Macy loved men, and they flocked to her like bears to honey. Anne, on the other hand, was a bit more circumspect. She definitely preferred quality over quantity; although if she compared her other lovers to Evan, they had been lacking in the quality department as well.

  “Macy, I don’t know what came over me. The instant I saw him, I wanted him. I was cold, wet, and tired; the last thing on my mind should have been sex. But once he opened that door, I thought of nothing else.”

  “Anne, my friend, that’s just good old-fashioned lust.” Macy poured herself another glass of wine. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “I don’t know.” She turned in her chair to face Macy. “But, oh God, it was the best sex of my life.”

  Anne was thankful the darkness hid her face from Macy. She had never concealed her emotions well, not even from strangers. Macy could read her like a book.

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I can’t get him out of my head. Or those scarves.”

  “Scarves?” Macy was paying rapt attention now. “What scarves?”

  “He had black scarves tied at each corner of his bed. I picked one up. It was soft and silky, long, not square.” Anne paused. “I think he binds his lovers with them.”

  “What would you know about bondage? Did he tie you up?” Macy sounded indignant at the idea. Wine forgotten, she was sitting upright, her eyes boring into Anne’s.

  “No, nothing like that.”

  But, oh, I don’t think I would have told him no.

  “I think he likes to be in charge. I even accused him of being bossy. He seemed to take it as a compliment.”

  “Oh? And pray tell, what was he doing when you said that?” Macy raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s a bit fuzzy. It may have been when he had me up against the wall with my hands held up over my head, or when he was demanding I remove his boxers I was wearing.” Anne took a big gulp of wine. “Macy, I think I’m in way over my head with this guy.”

  “It was just a one nighter. Don’t worry about it.” Macy rose and headed for the patio door. “Hey, I gotta run. Supposed to meet Lance when he gets off work.”

  Anne remained out on the balcony for a few moments, deep in thought. She wished she could blow it off as easily as Macy said. Telling Macy about her night with Evan had brought it all back in vivid detail.

  Her nipples tightened, and that recognizable warmth simmered deep inside, like it had every night since then. Evan invaded her
thoughts during the day and her dreams at night.

  Anne rose and went indoors, locking the sliding door after her, and made her way to her bedroom. She switched on the bedside lamp. A soft glow illuminated her tidy room as she got ready for bed. She donned a soft tee and loose pajama shorts and then slipped into bed.

  Enough is enough.

  Time to put Evan behind her.

  The image of Evan taking her from behind flashed through her mind.

  The hard length of him slipping into her silky depth…his hands on her throat, pulling her head back to him…his fingers on her swollen nub…

  Oh, yeah, she wanted Evan behind her.

  Anne awoke in the early morning light, curled in Evan’s arms. She discovered him plucking at the pebbled tips of her breasts. He pulled and tugged on the sensitive peaks until she moaned non-stop. Evan trailed one hand down her quivering belly to where she was already wet and welcoming.

  His insistent cock prodded her backside, demanding entrance to her pleasure center; she arched backward, seeking his tumescent flesh. Evan lifted one of her legs over his, trapping it. He entered her one frustrating inch at a time.

  “Lie still.” His whispered command had her trembling. “Let me pleasure you.”

  He continued to manipulate her turgid nipples, tugging and pinching as she shuddered and clamped her vaginal muscles around the hard length of him.

  “Good girl.” His husky voice purred.

  Anne whimpered as he withdrew until only the head of his cock remained in her and then started that slow penetration again.

  He moved one hand to her lower abdomen, agonizingly close to her swollen, aching clit. His splayed fingers pulled her closer. One finger made a quick foray between her sopping folds.

  She gasped and jerked upwards.

  “Hmmm, did you like that?” His voice was gruff.

  Anne nodded.

  “Answer me when I ask you a question. I want to hear you.”

  “Yes.” Anne was surprised at the shakiness of her voice.

  “Yes, what?”

  Confused, she replied, “Yes…Evan?”

  “That’ll do for now.” He tweaked a nipple hard.

  Anne moaned as the pleasure-pain shot straight to her straining clit.

  “How about that?”

  “Y-Yes, Evan,” she stuttered. Evan’s slow, methodical thrusts had her entire body trembling with frantic need.

  “What about this?” His finger parted her slick folds and homed in on her clit.

  Anne almost convulsed on the spot. “Oh…my… God…yes.”

  His hand stilled. “What?”

  “Evan. Oh my god, yes. Evan.”

  Somehow her brain recalled the proper response. She bucked her hips upward, trying to force a more deliberate contact between his hand and her clit.

  “Do you want to come, baby?”

  “Yes, Evan. Yes.”

  Anne was almost incoherent at this point, caught in a sexual stupor where everything ceased to exist except what Evan was doing.

  Evan began a purposeful thrusting just as his calloused fingers stroked the center of her pleasure with a circular motion. She trembled from head to toe as exquisite pangs of carnal lust rampaged through her body.

  Tiny quivers morphed into full-blown tremors ready to ignite and burst.

  Evan plunged deeper, harder, and faster, his driving cock and torturous fingers taking her to the brink.

  “Anne, come now. You’ve earned it, baby.”

  One last twist and pull on a tender nipple sent a frisson of sensation straight to her clit.

  Her toes curled. Her body stiffened. Her rapturous cry was loud in the bedroom as she exploded in ecstatic bliss.

  Evan groaned and, with a grunt of satisfaction, spurted his release and filled her with his warm essence.

  A buzzing vibration broke her erotic reverie. Her cell phone signaled the arrival of a text message. A quick glance at the clock showed it was ten twenty.

  Who would be texting her this late on a Thursday night?

  Her roommate was busy with her latest conquest, so she doubted it would be Macy. She clicked on the text icon.

  I’m disappointed you haven’t been back to try out the scarves.

  Anne dropped the phone as if it had come to life in her hands.

  How did he get my number?

  Her breath caught.

  She picked up the phone and stole a quick glance at the message.

  It hadn’t changed. Oh, God, now what?

  She jumped as the phone buzzed again. Another text scrolled up.

  If you behave, I’ll use one of the scarves to blindfold you.

  Liquid warmth pooled in her center.

  Anne took a deep breath. She was already aroused from her day dream about the pre-dawn encounter with Evan. The thought of wearing a silky blindfold had her breathless and dizzy.

  Buzz.

  Have you ever been blindfolded before?

  Her heart was beating like a jackhammer.

  Did she dare reply?

  Did she dare not?

  Anne remembered his directive regarding answering questions. She typed in a hesitant no.

  No, what?

  Anne rolled her eyes. Good thing he couldn’t see her.

  No, Evan.

  That’s my girl. You remembered.

  How did you get my number?

  I have my ways. Now you have my number. Call me.

  Anne stared at his latest demand.

  Her brain said to turn off the phone and ignore the directive.

  Her rebellious libido taunted her with the knowledge that if she didn’t call him, she’d be haunted by images of being blindfolded.

  Her breathing quickened. Her body was telling her what it wanted.

  Buzz.

  Call me…now.

  Fingers shaking, she pushed the call button.

  She held her breath. It rang once…twice. Maybe he wouldn’t answer.

  Will I be disappointed or relieved if he doesn’t answer?

  “That’s my girl. You did well, Annie.”

  She beamed at his praise. A frown replaced her smile. Why was his approval so important to her? She wasn’t sure she liked that. She would have to think about it. Later.

  “H-Hello.” Sheesh, her voice was as shaky as her fingers. Time to go on the offensive. “Are you stalking me?”

  “Would you like me to stalk you?”

  His velvety purr sent a shiver through her. He didn’t seem in the least put off by her accusation. Anne was speechless. What does one say to that?

  “Anne, I asked you a question. Would you like me to stalk you?”

  “Of course not.” Indignity laced her words. “No one wants to be stalked. Evan.”

  She had almost forgotten to add his name.

  “I would stalk you only if it gave you pleasure. I want to give you pleasure, Annie.”

  Someone must have turned up the thermostat in her bedroom. Anne was hot. Very hot. In more ways than one. She fanned herself, took a deep breath.

  His voice rumbled. “Have you had anyone devote himself to your pleasure?”

  How she wanted to be able to tell him yes. But…

  “No, Evan.”

  “That pleases me, Anne. It pleases me very much.”

  She basked in his approval and couldn’t help but smile.

  “Are you at home, Anne?”

  “Yes, Evan. I’m getting ready for bed.” There. That should give him something to think about.

  “In your bedroom?”

  “That’s where my bed is, Evan.” She wondered how he would roll with the bit of impudence she put in her voice. He wasn’t the only one who could tease.

  “I see you are a bit impertinent when you aren’t cold, wet, and bedraggled.” His voice deepened suggestively. “I’ll have to remember that when I get you blindfolded.”

  Blindfolds. Evan spoke of blindfolds. Was he reading her mind?

  Anne took a deep breath. “Would you lik
e to see me in a blindfold, Evan?”

  Will he think that comment was too brazen?

  “Oh, yes, Anne, I would.” He paused. “Do you think you could find my place again?”

  As if I could forget.

  “Probably not. It was dark and raining, remember? Evan?”

  “It wasn’t when you left the next morning.”

  “Guess I had other things on my mind.”

  Her deliberate nonchalance should deflate his ego a bit. She waited to see how he would react.

  “Oh, really? What was going through that pretty head of yours?” His voice was nearly a growl now. “Were you thinking of scarves?”

  Oh my God, yes.

  “Or of being pinned against the wall, gasping and quivering in my hands?”

  Guilty as charged.

  “Or how you came apart in my mouth on the stairs?”

  I’ll remember that as long as I live.

  Even now, her breasts hung heavy and swollen, her nipples little points against the fabric of her tee. She squeezed her thighs together in an attempt to alleviate the achiness at their juncture.

  “Which did you ponder the most, Anne? My cock or my mouth?”

  “N-Neither.”

  “Liar.” He voice became stern. “Don’t lie to me, Anne.” He paused. “Anne, tomorrow night. My place, Eight o’clock. I expect you to be there.”

  Evan disconnected. Anne stared at the phone.

  She was so in over her head.

  Chapter 5

  Anne pulled off the highway onto the isolated tree-laden driveway. The black scarf tied around the mailbox left no doubt she had found Evan’s ranch. The scarf did not obscure the lettering on the mailbox that proclaimed it as the property of one E. Jamison. The drive had been uneventful. Although thunder storms had been predicted and worrisome clouds could be seen in the distance, Mother Nature had behaved herself. No close encounters with deer or other wildlife.

  You can still turn around and head back to Denver.

  She’d been telling herself that the entire two hours of the drive. Anne took a deep breath.

  She crept up the driveway in her little VW bug, parking it next to Evan’s truck.

  Her knees wobbled a bit as she walked up the porch steps and knocked on his door. Eight o’clock on the dot. She was on time. She fluffed her hair and smoothed the travel wrinkles out of her little black skirt. She knocked again, harder. Where was he?