Dirty-Talking Cowboy (Kinky Spurs 1)

Her stomach twisted with a familiar sense of loneliness. After the funeral, everyone had gone home, back to their lives, including her parents. She hadn’t realized how much she liked having people around. Today felt like it had when Grams had been alive and they took care of the animals, when Grams knew everything and Emma simply had to follow her lead. They ate good food and shared laughs.

Regret pressed against Emma’s chest, leaving her unable to fill her lungs completely. She should’ve visited Grams more than a couple weeks each summer, and the weekly phone calls they had. She should’ve done a lot of things. Life always seemed to get in the way. Quietly, she padded her way down the hallway lined with paintings of nature and entered her mother’s old bedroom, where Emma always slept when she visited River Rock. She hadn’t stayed in this bed yet. Grams’s bed smelled like her. That’s where Emma had stayed, night after night. She needed that closeness, a thousand regrets pilling up on top of each other. Her throat tightened again, but she pushed the emotion away quickly, not getting lost in all the things she couldn’t change. If she tried to fix anything, she figured the last strands holding everything together would snap away. There was no picking up the pieces. There was only starting over.

She moved to the double bed against the far wall surrounded by white end tables. The purple-and-white quilt had been handmade by Grams. Emma slid her fingers over the soft fabric from the foot of the bed up to the pillow. All this love and time put into a blanket to keep Emma warm whenever she slept over.

“Sweet dreams, my darling,” Grams said softly, tucking the blanket around Emma until she couldn’t move. “I love you all the way to the moon and back.”

The memory hit out of nowhere, and Emma swore she could hear Grams’s sweet, gentle voice soothing over her. Tears filled her eyes and she shut them against the pain of her grandmother’s absence. That tender voice made everything better, even when things were so very wrong. God, what Emma wouldn’t give to have her Grams back now. Sure, she had her mom, but it wasn’t the same. Grams would’ve known exactly what to say when Jake crushed her. And she’d know what Emma should do with her life now. Should she return to New York City and face all those judgmental stares with her head held high? Sure, she’d have a lot of proving to do to show the advertising world she deserved her promotion. Or should she build a new life in River Rock? But what was there for her? Kinky Spurs? Living off tips?

Emma sighed, wiped her tears. Grams would know these answers.

“It’s okay to miss her.”

Emma spun on her heels, opened her mouth, then promptly closed it. All sadness fled in a millisecond.

Leaning against the doorframe, Shep wore only his jeans, no shirt in sight. Oh my fucking God. Dream Shep had nothing on the real thing. Anyone could tell that Shep worked hard for a living. He didn’t seem the type of man that would spend hours in the gym, indicating his job was the reason he was built for hard labor. His wide shoulders, squared chest, gloriously perfect six-pack with deep ridges made for exploring fingers—all of it was mouthwateringly hot.

His voice deepened into a low rumbly tone. “Darlin’, you really need to stop looking at me like that.”

She lifted her gaze to his potent stare. Heat rose to her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” The side of his mouth curved, like he knew the power he had over her. “I happen to enjoy watching you eye-fuck me, but you’re making it hard for me to be a gentleman.”

Her knees weakened, heart raced. How tempting it was to engulf this fiery passion burning between them, not run from it. And how confusing was that? No more casual sex, wasn’t that what she said? She knew where relationships like that ended up, nowhere good. Yet, her mouth parted, and out came, “What if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?”

Something fierce crossed his expression then, darkening his eyes. He stepped forward, bringing all that strong manly heat in close. He smelled of rain and wood and all that was perfect in this world. He dipped his head, and all she had to do was reach out and touch him. “What exactly do you want from me, Emma?” His lips were right there. His naked flesh, right there. “Do you want me to take control of you and roughly take what’s mine for the night?”

His sexy smile revealed a horrible truth. She nearly melted into the floor. “Oh, dear Lord, I told you about my dream?” Please say no. Please say no.

He lifted his hand, gently dragging his knuckles across her cheek. “Ah, but I happen to like that dream you had and shared with me.” He slid his thumb across her chin, tilting her head up to stare deeply into his gorgeous eyes. “You still haven’t answered me. Do you want me to kiss you slowly, savoring every little bit of your mouth?” His thumb brushed across the plumpest part of her bottom lip. “Or shall I punish you with my kiss, making you regret that you ever turned me down?” The heat of his body sizzled against her as he leaned in closer, his warm breath across her mouth. “Tell me, Emma, shall I tie you up with my ropes like I already have? Do you remember what that felt like? Did you like it, sweetheart?”

“You know I liked it,” she managed, breathless.

His grin was pure sin. “You’re right, I do know that.” He dragged his knuckles over her flushing cheek again, seemingly touching her soul-deep. Her mouth parted, breaths became heavier when he ran the pads of his fingers slowly down her arms, the power he exuded like a wall of strength in front of her. “Tell me, Emma,” he finished.

The words nearly fell out of her mouth. She wanted to experience his brand of passion. She got the feeling if she let go with him, he’d deliver where others had failed. Almost as if he’d take away all the pain, all the confusion, and silence her fears.

Her mouth parted to say, Make me forget it all. The words died in her throat. Her fears were bigger and stronger than her desire. She’d been fooled by one man before. The icy cold reminder still splintered her heart, there and unavoidable. “I can’t,” she said softly.

“You can’t.” There was no disappointment in his voice, only firmness. “Then I can’t.”

He took her hand into the strength of his, and she slowly opened her eyes, her breath catching at the contained power in his expression.

Shep breathed sex and passion, and the danger of him presented itself to her. Causal sex was one thing, but she got the feeling Shep didn’t do causal sex. He was pure emotion, total connection, and all intimacy. He’d wrap her up emotionally and take everything she had, and when he was finished with her, he’d demand more.

With his eyes locked onto hers, he led her from the bedroom. Once in the hallway, he turned to her, leaned in, and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “Good night, Emma.”

She could finally breathe again. “Good night, Shep.”

Then with that blazing-hot gaze pinning her to where she stood, he shut the bedroom door, leaving her, and all her thoughts, alone in the quiet hallway.

* * *

Late into the night, wearing only his boxer briefs, Shep ventured out of the bedroom, stopping at the top of the staircase. It’d only take him a couple steps to grab the door handle and slide into bed with Emma. It would only take a couple more minutes to kiss her until she went soft and warm beneath his hands. After that, he could spend long minutes deep inside her, until they both fell apart in each other’s arms.

A long-suffering sigh spilled from his lips. He shook his head, pushing the thoughts of Emma aside, then quietly made his way down the stairs. His cock throbbed. He’d have to do something about his greedy dick or he’d never sleep. Though his mouth was dry, and with his skin flushing hot, his thirst needed to be dealt with first.

The house lay silent around him when he stepped into the kitchen. All the lights were off except the row of lighting under the cupboards giving the space a warm glow. The clock on the stove read three in the morning. He’d slept maybe an hour, tops. Having Emma so close, and yet not being with her, was torture. Thoughts of her in bed, possibly naked beneath th