So Tough To Tame. Victoria Dahl
wouldn’t be any hiding his erection if this went on much longer. The hand at his waist had started tracing slow circles that made waves of pleasure radiate out over his body. And he was picturing that scene again. Of Charlie naked, her hand opening over her own hip as his fingers spread over her ass. She’d look back at him with that taunting little smile, just as she did now. Do you like it? she’d ask. And he’d answer by squeezing her ass hard and laying his cock against the plump mounds of her cheeks as he—
“Jesus,” he cursed with a harsh laugh as he eased his hips back and shook his head. “You turned cruel while you were gone, Charlie. Good God.”
She shrugged. “Maybe a little cruel. But I bet you can handle it. You’re a big boy.”
And getting bigger by the second, damn her. But Charlie didn’t notice. The jukebox rang with the opening notes of a song from their school days, and she danced away from him.
“Miss Rayleen, do you allow two-stepping in here?” she called.
Rayleen plucked her cigarette from her mouth and pointed it toward the tables. “If you can find room for it, knock yourself out.”
“Hmm.” Charlie turned back to look him up and down, then shook her head. “I do believe this one is too big to be nimble.”
Rayleen cackled. “You’ve got that right. That’s a tool for blunt work.”
“Hey!” he protested, but Rayleen laughed harder.
“Look at his face, poor thing!” the woman hooted.
Charlie shook her head in mock sympathy. “Too bad. I’ll have to find another partner.”
“I’m nimble as hell,” he grouched. “I’ve never had any complaints.”
He should have known by the thrilled smile on Rayleen’s face that she was about to cause trouble, but he didn’t move fast enough to stop it. “Naw,” she drawled, “he comes with good reviews. Just like a nice hotel. With pictures online and everything.”
Charlie’s eyes lit up. “What?” she gasped.
“Damn it, Rayleen, that is not true!” He took off his hat and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation again. And this time it was in front of Charlie.
But Rayleen was relentless. “You know when men sometimes take pictures of their—”
“That is not what happened!” He cringed at the volume of his own voice and muttered, “Pardon me, ma’am,” but Rayleen was howling and slapping the table while Charlie looked from her to Walker, her jaw dropped open in a wide smile.
“Seriously?” she gasped.
“No! Not seriously! There is no picture of my...” He glanced at Rayleen, self-conscious about his language even if she did have the mouth of an old sailor. “...manhood online. Or anywhere else. As far as I know.”
“Ah. Cell phone cameras are tricky beasts, aren’t they?” Charlie tried to make her words sound sympathetic. It didn’t work. She broke down in laughter.
No, there were no cock shots of him anywhere, but there was one small problem that—
Rayleen cupped her hand around her mouth as if she were going to whisper a secret. “Someone posted a picture of his naked ass on Facebook.”
“Rayleen,” he groaned.
“Took me a few days to find it, but it was worth the work.”
Walker closed his eyes against the sight of Charlie’s horrified delight. He shook his head. “Why do you have to tell everyone? It’s just a picture of an ass, for God’s sake.”
“Just a picture of your ass while you were sleeping naked on some girl’s bed.”
Not for the first time, he said a quick prayer of thanks that he was a stomach sleeper. He should’ve known that woman would be trouble. She’d started texting her friends five seconds after orgasm.
“Oh, Walker,” Charlie said, her voice closer than it had been. But he didn’t open his eyes, even when her hand patted his cheek. “You haven’t changed at all.”
Much as he’d like to, there was no denying the truth. When he’d woken this morning, he’d greeted the day with exactly as much to his name as he’d had when Charlie had left town for college: a big truck, a strong back, good hands and some almost-promising ranch work lined up. The only thing he’d managed to add were a few aches and pains, a small savings and a little regret.
He suddenly remembered that he’d been too tired to hang out tonight.
When he opened his eyes he found that everyone had moved on. Rayleen was reabsorbed in her game of solitaire. Nate and Merry were propped on bar stools, laughing with Jenny, and Charlie...Charlie had cleared a small space near the jukebox and pulled some cowboy into her arms to two-step.
“You were right about her,” Rayleen said without looking up. “She’s all right. Bought me a drink and everything. In my own bar. My best Scotch.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
Rayleen nodded. “Yep. You were right. I like that girl.”
Yeah. Unfortunately for his pride, so did he.
CHARLIE STARED DOWN her hangover in the mirror. Unless Rayleen had installed fluorescent bulbs in the bathroom, her face was a damn unattractive color this morning. She looked closer, scowling down her own bad mood and daring her stomach to rebel.
It’d been years since she had a hangover. A few unwise nights during her first year in Las Vegas had taught her about pacing.
But the hangover hardly mattered. She dreaded going to work anyway. No point wasting good health on it. It would be a bad day with or without a shifty stomach and a headache. At least she’d had fun flirting with Walker last night.
Resigned to her miserable day, she forced herself to drink a full glass of water, then showered and shaved her legs and put on enough makeup to hide the green before slouching to her car. She already had antacids in the glove compartment. This wasn’t the first stomachache the Meridian Resort had given her. She was prepared.
She’d thought this job was her saving grace. She’d thought Dawn was swooping in to save her like an old friend riding in on a white horse. Now Charlie was tied to the railroad tracks and trying to figure out what the hell had happened.
Then again, it wasn’t really something that had happened. She’d done it to herself. Not deliberately, just...stupidly. And she’d always thought she was so smart. She’d spent a blissful twenty-nine years believing she wasn’t an idiot, and then she’d been arrested for criminal conspiracy. Lesson learned.
The drive to Teton Village was over in a flash, fifteen minutes accelerated to mere seconds by her dread. The scattered resorts and gigantic lodges were beautiful. There were miles of exquisite architecture and landscaping designed to look perfect amid the snowdrifts and icicles. But to her, the whole village looked like so much trash washed up on the shore of these mountains. She wove her way through the maze and headed toward the Meridian Resort halfway up the hill.
Three weeks ago, she’d been grinning through this whole drive, so thrilled and excited to have an opportunity. Any opportunity.
Clenching her jaw, she waited for the gate to the employee parking garage to open, staring straight ahead so she wouldn’t glare at the tiny camera lens to her left. Her stomach turned. She ignored it and pulled into her numbered spot. Another little camera lens watched as she got out of her car and headed toward the utilitarian steel door set in the cement wall. On the guest level, the cement walls were painted a homey beige, and the fire doors were paneled with wood. But the employee floor had all the appeal of a prison.