Sexual Expression (Contemporary Cowboys 2)

“I told you,” Coco said, refusing to rain on Drina’s parade by telling her how fucked up in the head she felt. Instead, she focused on the positives. “There’s nothing like it. Knowing you can keep your personal space and enjoy the music without interference is like nothing I’ve experienced before. It’s like you know you’re dancing for other people, too, but it doesn’t matter. You can let the lyrics and song have every inch of yourself. You described it best. It’s exhilarating. I knew you’d enjoy it.”

“How can I become a member?”

“I really don’t know much about the club’s policies. In case you didn’t notice, we weren’t exactly questioned at the door. I’m recognized here as Brandon’s sub. Dance night is the only time when subs can enter without their Doms.”

Drina acted like it took her a minute to process the idea of Coco calling herself anyone’s submissive, and then she said, “You mentioned Brandon has a room here?”

“A suite,” Coco said, the knots in her chest returning. She and Brandon had enjoyed some great times at Paddles and Picnics, and most of the more fantastic moments occurred in Brandon’s private suite.

“I think I saw Kurt when we left the dance floor.”

Coco considered the possibility and ruled out Kurt patronizing a place like Paddles and Picnics. “If Kurt were here, he’d be in the adjoining pool hall. He wouldn’t be back here. He’s not a fetish club kind of guy if you know what I mean.”

“Guy missed a hell of a chance then,” Drina said, waggling her brows. “Excuse me for sayin’ so but he screams fantastic bed partner, Coco. He’s like Mr. Great Sex and Brandon is just the Mr. Wannabe Great Se

x.”

Coco laughed and hugged her. “You and your comparisons. You always know what to say to cheer me up.”

“I call it as I see it, hon. The man is what—two hundred and thirty pounds of stone hard muscle and a rockin’ cock that won’t quit? That last part is your verbatim phrase, not mine.” She winked. “I took notes.”

“Apparently so!” Coco was glad Drina talked her into a night out.

“Okay, let’s mingle, big sis. Regardless of what you say, I’m pretty sure Mr. Kurt Blazier is out there in the crowd. And I want to find him.”

“Planning on hitting up my man?”

“Your man, is it?” Drina faked a surprised look and stood in front of the mirror fluffing her hair. “Actually, no. I want to find your Mr. Right so he can introduce me to mine. The cowboy he’s with is one hundred and twenty-five percent all mine tonight if he gives me another one of those ‘come hither, kitten’ looks.”

“Wait a minute? What cowboy and what kind of look?”

“You didn’t see him?”

“How do you know he’s a cowboy? Hats aren’t allowed.”

“Yeah, but apparently boots aren’t off-limits. He’s draped in leather pants and cowboy boots for the love of God.”

“Zak.”

“Who?”

“Zak, another one of Brandon’s brothers.”

“How many brothers does he have again?”

“That’s not important,” Coco said, unwilling to think about their large family now for fear she would then think of the brothers the Blazier family had recently lost. Oddly enough she’d sort of thought Zak and Drina might make a good pair, but something had always stopped her from matchmaking with her sisters and Brandon’s brothers.

Maybe it was because she didn’t want her sisters to see how she behaved at the Blazier farm. Was that it? She couldn’t help but wonder. And she couldn’t help but think if the way she acted in one area of her life should be a direct warning if she didn’t want others to know.

“Come on,” Drina said, dragging her to the door and away from her thoughts. “You’re slipping away from me again. At the moment, I need you to focus. I want to meet this Zak, if he is in fact Brandon’s brother. If not, don’t worry about introductions. Something tells me we’ll drift one another’s way.”

Chapter Eight

“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Liam stood next to the truck looking like he’d seen a ghost instead of an angel, and a dark angel at that.

“Little brother, you’re a long way from Johnson City’s country bars. What are you doing up here tonight?”

“Could ask you the same, Kurt.”