Controlled Burn

Chapter 2

"Is that why you're here tonight?" she asked. "Drinking to forget the wrong kind of woman?"

His laugh held little humor. He took a long swallow from the bottle, the play of muscles in his neck and throat fascinating her. She couldn't seem to drag her eyes away from him.

"See something you like?" He signaled the bartender for another.

"You didn't answer my question."

When the bartender set a fresh drink in front of him, he took another deliberate swallow of beer then set his bottle down carefully. "Question?"

"Yes. Are you drinking to forget the wrong kind of woman?"

He turned on his stool, studying her from beneath hooded lids for so long she felt compelled to meet him eye to eye. Mistake. Big mistake. s****l heat surged through her, the muscles in the walls of her cunt vibrating as if they were doing a two-step, and her n*****s became so hard she thought they'd poke holes in her tee shirt. Her mouth suddenly dry, she lifted her drink and finished it in one swallow. This time, it burned going down, but she was grateful. It distracted her from the other reactions of her body.

"Maybe," he said, at last. "Are you the right kind of woman?"

Montana had a feeling she could climax from nothing more than listening to his voice. She tapped her glass on the bar to signal for a refill and wondered what in the f*****g hell she was doing, anyway?

Ooh, f**k! Andy would have a shitfit. Another naughty word.

She barely suppressed a laugh.

"Something funny?" Mr. Hotstuff asked.

"Just a private joke." The fresh drink arrived, and she took a tiny sip. "Maybe I am. The right kind of woman. What does that mean to you?"

He draped his arm across her shoulders and threaded his fingers into the mass of curls at her neck. His touch was like the kiss of a match, igniting any nerve endings that might have still been sleeping. And, oh, god. If her panties hadn't been wet before, they were soaked with her juices now. She squeezed her thighs together, trying to fight back the need radiating from her.

He nudged her around on her stool again, so he stared into her eyes once more.

Oh, god!

"It means maybe we both came in here for the same thing tonight."

"Yeah? Explain."

"A night out of time. Would you go for that?"

Would she?

There was certainly no mistaking his meaning, even if he hadn't said the words. Well, hell. She definitely wanted to forget a whole lot of bad business. Getting naked with him would be so much better than getting drunk. And probably leave her in a better mood.

Boone Crider tightened his grip on the beer bottle. He needed the shock of the cold glass to counteract the sizzling heat from the warm woman he'd been stupid enough to reach out and touch. But the minute she'd hoisted herself onto the bar stool, he felt as if a charged field of s****l energy had wrapped itself around him. Around them. His c**k, which lately had gotten little attention and somehow didn't seem to miss it, practically poked a hole through the fly of his soft denim jeans, trying to stand up and salute. Why the hell he should have that little "problem" with the mood he was in was a mystery to him.

Stopping at Pete's had seemed like a good idea when he'd pulled into the parking lot. He'd had a b***h of a day and an even worse evening. Another barn fire, this one nearly out of control by the time he and the other volunteer firefighters got there. He could still smell the burning wood, feel the heat of the flames, hear the crackle and snap. This made the fifth one in eight weeks. The chief had an investigator combing the debris at each site for evidence the fires were deliberately set, but the firebug was apparently very clever. And they all agreed it had to be arson. So many barn fires in such a short period of time were no accident or coincidence. Especially since months had gone by with nothing more than a small brush fire to call them out.

They were all damn lucky no one had gotten hurt so far. In two cases, the owners weren't even home. Neighbors had seen the flames and called it in. In the others, the homeowners had called right away then did what they could with hoses. None of the barns had contained animals, but Boone felt sure it was only a matter of time before whoever this was hit one that did. The prospect of what could happen made him sick to his stomach.

Getting drunk and sleeping it off in The Highway Motel had seemed like an outstanding idea. Then, in the morning, he could drag his sorry ass home, wash away today's memories, and hope the rest of the week was a lot better. And no more emergencies like tonight's.

The she'd walked in, and his hormones had stood up and poked him in his d**k and his balls. A thick mass of blonde hair cascaded from a face highlighted with emerald eyes, thick lashes, high cheekbones, and a full mouth just begging to be kissed. Or wrapped around his aching shaft. He wondered what she'd say if he told her he wanted to f**k her mouth almost as much as her p***y.

And do a lot of other things with her. To her. Things she-

Forget it. She probably likes her s*x plain vanilla. Probably orders her drinks the same way, too.

But she'd surprised him when she ordered Jack Black on the rocks. Most of the women he knew, even in tiny Winslow, Texas, drank wine. For some it was a preference, for others an affectation. He always seemed to wind up with the ones who had nothing going on below the surface. After the last few months, he'd give anything for a warm, understanding woman who loved hot s*x, had a good mind, and listened attentively.

Yeah, ask Santa Claus for one, right?

Maybe Santa had brought him an early Christmas present, at least for one night.

He was fascinated, watching her drink, not slugging down the aged whiskey but not taking tiny sips, either. No, she took healthy swallows and smiled as it burned its way into her system.

Touching her was a big mistake. Her blonde hair felt like corn silk against his fingers, and the contact with her skin was like touching a live wire. If his c**k had hardened from merely being near her, now it was screaming for freedom from restriction and demanding to fill her soft mouth or the wet heat of her p***y. He wanted to bury himself in her so deep he could forget tonight-and the others like it-and the depression he was fighting would simply disappear.

He had never really been much for one-night stands. It just wasn't how he rolled. Of course, during the past few years, he hadn't had too much luck with the other kind, either. Even broadening his reach throughout the county, which his volunteer job allowed him to do, hadn't brought any interesting results.

He wondered if this woman was passing through, or what? She sure didn't look familiar. Of course, he'd only lived in Winslow for the past nine years. He'd come to this place, running from the congestion of the Dallas/Fort Worth area where he'd been in the cattle auction business with his father. He'd had enough of the city and wanted to raise cattle instead of auctioning off lots. There'd been some tension in his family because of it, but everything had settled down.

He wished he could settle himself as easily.

Getting this woman naked would be a step in the right direction. Especially tonight. He really needed to lose himself in her lush body and the things it silently promised. The fire had bumped his stress level off the charts and headed him toward depression. Not for the first time, he considered quitting his volunteer job, but his sense of responsibility wouldn't let him do it. Now he needed something to cleanse his mind and remind him what life was really all about.

"Is that a yes or no?"

He shook himself when he realized the woman was speaking to him.

"I'm sorry." He tried out an easy grin on her. "I think I was just too entranced by you."

She laughed, a hot, throaty sound. "A pretty lame pickup line, if you ask me."

He tilted his head. "Do I need one? A pick up line, lame or not?"

"Depends on what you have in mind," she teased.

"Right now, what I have in mind is something cold and liquid. The bartender wants to know if you'd like another JD."

She saw the guy watching them, one eyebrow raised.

"What about you?" She ran her tongue over her plump lower lip. "Are you having another?"

His c**k throbbed harder, and heat skittered over his skin. "I think one more."

"Then I will, too." She eyed the bartender. "If I can take it with me?"

The guy shrugged. "Depends on where you plan to take it."

"How about right next door?" Boone answered for her.

The man nodded. "Okay, then, coming right up."

Boone put his mouth close to her ear. "Did I presume too much?"

Beneath his touch, he felt her tense for a moment then relax.

"No," she drawled. "I think you got it exactly right."

He threw some cash on the bar. "Get our drinks and wait for me. I'll be right back."