Trouble in Chaps Read online

  It was ten seconds of mayhem before a boom caused everyone to freeze. The sheriff, Sam, stood in the middle of the room, his gun raised toward the ceiling.

  “Time for everyone to settle down.”

  Roxie’s eyes sought out Lola, who sat beaming at Sam. Roxie couldn’t say she blamed her. He was quite a sight. Like something out of an old western. His stance clearly said “Don’t fuck with me,” and his eyes gleamed with what might be anticipation that someone would.

  He marched over to the two drunks still standing. “Think you better come with me, boys.”

  Cliff hauled the man he’d punched to his feet and had a firm grip on his arm. Roxie ran over to him but he ignored her and shoved the man toward the door. She started to follow but a big hand wrapped around her arm and stayed her. Roxie whirled and looked up into Wyatt’s face.

  “We got this,” he said quietly.

  “Fine.”

  Wyatt released her and joined Beckett, stopping long enough to pick up the last unconscious man from the floor. Wyatt slung the man over his shoulder like a sack of seed and followed Cliff outside.

  Roxie turned and almost ran over Emily. “Are you okay?” Emily asked.

  “Yeah, fine.”

  “Oh? Then why are you biting my head off?”

  “Because… because I had it under control.”

  Lola appeared beside her. “Wasn’t that something? The way Cliff grabbed that guy and pulled him off you and the way Sam just took over and…”

  “And Wyatt heaving that guy over his should like it was nothing,” Emily added.

  “Yeah, a real Hallmark moment,” Roxie groused. Yes, it had been something to see, but she didn’t want to be impressed with the way Cliff had rushed to her defense.

  “What crawled up your ass?” Lola asked.

  “I didn’t need any help!”

  Lola looked from her to Emily and Emily rolled her eyes. “Yeah, we know you’re a big bad-ass, Rox, and could have kicked the guy’s butt, but this is Cliff’s bar and he was trying to protect you.”

  “I don’t need his protection!”

  “Well maybe he didn’t know that,” Lola offered.

  “Whatever.” Roxie didn’t want to listen to reason. She knew Cliff was within his rights to act as he did and it was his place to make sure things didn’t get out of hand.

  But damn it all, she didn’t want to remember the sudden thrill of seeing fury blaze in his eyes at having the man touch her. Didn’t want to get that hot little knot of excitement at seeing him be the alpha male and go all macho.

  She didn’t want anything to make her want him more. And the only way to keep from thinking about those things was to be mad. So she hung on to the mad like a lifeline even though she knew it was unreasonable.

  “I have to get back to work.”

  Before Emily or Lola could respond, she stomped over to the bar. Two seconds later a hand closed around her arm. She jerked around a split second before Beckett started pulling her away from the bar.

  “Come on.”

  “I’m working,” she said as she jerked free.

  “In the office. Now.”

  Something in his eyes had her biting down on the urge to argue. She tossed her hair and marched through the kitchen to the back of the building where his office was located. He entered behind her and slammed the door.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” His voice was loud and angry enough to have her hackles rise.

  “Excuse me?” She arched her eyebrows haughtily.

  “You heard me. Why didn’t you call me if that guy was giving you trouble?”

  “It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.”

  “With a beer bottle? What were you planning to do? Come upside his head with it?”

  “If necessary.”

  “Smart, real smart.” The mocking tone of his voice jacked her anger higher.

  “Fuck you, Beckett!”

  He grinned at her and it wasn’t a friendly sort of expression. More like a predator closing in on its prey. “You don’t want to start up with me, sugar.”

  Roxie snorted. “Oh, now I’m scared.”

  Cliff crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her. “What’s your problem?”

  “You!”

  “Me? All I did was protect what’s mine.”

  That one word sent a bolt of something purely female and entirely terrifying through her. But she wasn’t about to succumb to either. “I’m not yours!”

  “The bar is. And if you’d hit him you could’ve been charged with assault.”

  “It would’ve been self defense!”

  “Maybe. But you were itching to do it.”

  “I did not.”

  “Yes, you did.” His voice softened as he regarded here. “You’ve been spoiling for a fight and that poor jackass seemed like a likely target.”

  “That’s bullshit. I have not been spoiling for a fight.”

  “Oh yeah, you have.”

  “Fuck you.” There was no way in hell she’d ever admit he was right. It wasn’t that she was spoiling for a fight, it was more that she felt as if a pressure cooker that was about to blow. Cliff had gotten to her on more than one level and the stress was starting to take its toll.

  “You making that a formal offer, honey?” His tone was teasing, but there was nothing of a jest in his eyes.

  Roxie went for the door knob, but Cliff grabbed her wrist. “Let go of me,” she warned.

  “Or?”

  Roxie hissed and raised her hand to hit him, only to have him catch her fist before it made contact. She tore free and backed away, stopping only when her backside bumped into his desk.

  Cliff stalked over to her, putting his hands on the desk on either side of her.

  “Or?” he asked again.

  “Move, Beckett.”

  “Or?” The heat was back in his eyes.

  “Or we’re gonna have a big problem.”

  “Oh we already have a problem, Roxie.

  “Do we?” Her eyes met his and held. “And what might that be?”

  “This.”

  At the same moment the word came from his lips, he reached behind her with his left arm and pulled her against him. Her breath came out in a small rush a moment before his lips closed on hers.

  Her mind screamed for her to push him away. This was not a good idea. Not safe. But her treacherous body betrayed her. As Cliff’s arm tightened around her, she pressed into him, not only accepting the kiss but returning it.

  It was a lusty battle of tongues and teeth, hands gripping and roving, bodies straining into one another. Cliff growled in protest when she pushed back from him.

  “Don’t stop now, honey.”

  She shook her head and blew out her breath. She couldn’t play this game. Not with him. It was too costly and she couldn’t take the strain of it. “Look, Beckett, I need to be straight with you.”

  He cocked his head slightly to one side. “I’m listening.”

  “Okay, so here’s the deal.” She took a breath and steeled herself. “You affect me like a drug and right now there’s nothing I want more than to get you out of those clothes and inside me. But—“

  She raised both hands and pressed them against his chest when he moved to pull her back to him. “But—I work for you and as much as I want you, having you is going to complicate my life in a way I can’t handle. And before you say anything, this has nothing to do with our bet.”

  “No problem. You’re fired.”

  “But—” She kept the pressure on his chest, looking up at him. She couldn’t tell if he meant it. What she could tell was that he wanted her. Whatever it was between them wasn’t cooling off. It got hotter every day and chances were the only way to put out that fire was to give in to it.

  And if she was honest, it was what she wanted. Sure, it’d mean she’d be stuck in Mesa Blanco longer than she planned, but like Emily had reminded her just the day before, it wasn’t as if any of them had anywhere to go.
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  Besides, she was tired of battling it. “What the fuck.”

  With that, she fisted his shirt in both hands and yanked him to her. And in that moment civility vanished.

  There was nothing gentle in his lips as they staked a claim on hers. Teeth nipped and tongues clashed. Breath came hard and fast. Cliff gave no care to the damage to her clothing as he tugged and tore anything that barred him hands from her flesh. His hand moved between her legs to the wetness that clearly spelled her desire.

  She was no less impatient as she stripped his shirt off then started on his jeans. By the time his Levis were bunched around his knees, he was past the point of caring about anything except sinking deep inside the liquid silk between her legs that was becoming more wet with each stroke of his fingers.

  Roxie tore free from his mouth as his fingers stroked inside her faster. Her fingers dug into the top of his shoulders, her breath a series of pants. She was so close.

  “Let it go, baby.”

  His lusty croon was all that was needed to send her tumbling over the edge. Her sex clenched to the accompaniment of a low throaty moan she made no attempt to silence.

  “In me,” she panted before the climax could subside.

  The smile he flashed her was all the time it took for him to lift her up, supporting her with his hands firm on her ass. Roxie wound her legs around him and in one fluid motion, he slid inside.

  A quick “ahh” went along with the momentary flash of pain. It’d been a while since she’d had a man and it took her body a few seconds to begin to adjust to the sensation of being so full.

  A few seconds was all she allowed. Hanging onto his shoulders, she bucked against him, the motion driving him deeper. Cliff’s breath hissed, his eyes locked onto hers and everything around them vanished.

  She couldn’t explain it any other way. Not that it mattered. All that mattered was the feel of him inside her and the hard, driving rhythm of his body. How perfect it would have been if this were more than just physical. She hated that weak part of herself that longed for more and reminded herself that this was all she could ever have.

  Roxie shoved aside thoughts of what she could not have and focused on the moment. If this was all there was, then she was not going to waste a moment of it. She met him stroke for stroke, feeling sensation build to the point of madness.

  “Now,” she groaned. “Please. Now, now now.”

  Almost before the last two words were out of her mouth, an orgasm ripped through her. Not blossomed, flowered, or flowed. Nothing so tame could describe it. It ripped. Raw and primal, its force had her throwing back her head and screaming.

  On and on, one wave after another pounded her. She welcomed it, wanted it and gave herself completely to it. When at last he slowed his pace, she lifted her head to look at him and was met with a look hot enough to have her tightening around him in anticipation.

  Cliff worked his feet out of his boots with her still wound around him, then stepped out of his jeans and carried her into the other side of the room. Roxie hung on as he sat down on the couch, the position impaling her fully on his erection.

  She grinned and urged him onto his back. The moment he was supine, she braced her hands on his chest and started a rhythm of her own. Slow at first then faster as his eyes darkened and his hands tightened on her thighs.

  It was unwise and possibly unsafe but that was something she’d deal with if the need arose. Now there was only him and the tension building inside both of them. She felt him getting close; saw it in his eyes, and that shoved her over the edge. A freefall of overwhelming sensation claimed her as she rode out the storm. When at last reason returned she lay down on him, feeling the rapid beat of his heart and the sweat damp skin hot against her own.

  Cliff’s arms circled her, holding her tight despite the heat, his lips gently pressing against her forehead. For several minutes neither of them moved.

  Finally, Roxie sat up, slinging her hair back over her shoulders. Cliff looked up at her, his hands moving to trace along the underside of her breasts. “So, I guess you no longer have a problem?”

  He shook his head. “More than I started with.”

  “More?” She ran her hands over the swell of his chest and down his abdomen to the point their bodies met. The tip of his penis peeked from beneath her, swelling to full erection before she even touched it.

  “Much more.”

  “Well, then I guess we’re going to have to work on that, aren’t we?”

  His response was to pull her down to him. Just before their lips met, he smiled. “Oh yeah, we’re gonna work real hard on it.”

  “Yeah?” She grinned, enjoying the easy banter.

  “Yep. I’ve got you now.”

  Something akin to the kind of adrenaline rush you get when sudden fear strikes, bolted through her and the fever of lust vanished. This was a mistake. A huge mistake. She couldn’t have him thinking this meant she’d stick around. She couldn’t even let herself contemplate the idea. As appealing as it was, staying was not an option. She had to get back on the road, away from here.

  Away from him.

  Roxie tore free from his arms and scrambled off the couch.

  “What’re you doing?” Cliff was clearly puzzled at the abrupt change.

  “Leaving.” Her cut-off jeans were intact and she slid them on. Her tank top was ruined, both straps torn, so she snatched up his discarded shirt and quickly put it on.

  “Why?” He sat up.

  Roxie couldn’t answer. What could she possibly say? That she was running because he made her want things that she couldn’t have? She grabbed her boots and fled, taking the back entrance and escaping into the alley behind the bar. From there it was a short run to her room at the boarding house. She locked her door and flung herself down on the bed.

  She’d made a terrible mistake and didn’t know how to undo it. Sure, she could probably get a bus ticket out of town and escape the area, but how was she going to escape the feelings Cliff inspired? How was she going to forget his taste and touch and the way he made her feel?

  How was she ever going to stop wanting him? And how was she going to explain to her friends why she had to leave Mesa Blanco as soon as possible?

  Tears started to flow as she contemplated the mess she’d gotten herself in and, for the first in a long time, she gave into them and cried. For what had led her here and what would drive her away.

  Pounding at the door interrupted her sobs. “Roxie! Open the door!”

  It was Cliff.

  “I mean it! Open it or I’ll break it down! Roxie!”

  And wake the entire boarding house. She scrambled off the bed and opened the door a crack. “Go away, Beckett.”

  His response was to shove the door open, stalk inside and slam it behind him.

  It wasn’t until he’d slammed the door that he got a good look at her and when he did, all his indignation fled. Her eyes and nose were red and tears still wet her cheeks.

  “Aw, honey.” He grabbed her and wrapped his arms around her.

  “Don’t,” she sobbed against his chest.

  “Don’t what?” He worked one hand up to tangle in her hair, keeping her head firm against his chest as he kissed the top of her head.

  “Don’t be nice to me.” Her words were broken by sobs. “Don’t be a good guy, Beckett.”

  That surprised him enough to have him pull back and hold her at arm’s length. “What’s going on, Roxie?”

  She shook her head and looked away. “Just leave, okay? This isn’t going to work.”

  “What isn’t going to work?”

  “You and me. Me working for you, us…us… you know.”

  “You mean the bet? Forget the bet. I want to know what’s going on with you. Why’d you run?”

  Her eyes met his then she looked away. “Can’t we just leave it at this isn’t going to work?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  That one word shook him. Right down to his boots. He didn�
��t know her, not really. And sure, he was attracted to her, but attraction was a fleeting thing and always died. At least in his life. So why?

  The answer was as shocking as the question and not one he wanted to own up to. As much as he’d like to deny it, somehow he’d fallen for her. The idea of her not being in his life gave him a rush of anxiety.

  His knees went weak. Literally. He leaned back against the door, feeling something hot rushing through his body, making his breath quicken and his skin dampen with sudden perspiration.

  God help him, he was in love with her. What was he supposed to do? He’d never felt anything like this. It was uncharted territory and scary as hell.

  “I need you to stay.” He couldn’t admit his feelings, couldn’t tell her that he loved her. It was hard enough admitting it to himself.

  “Why?”

  Damn her, she wasn’t going to let him off the hook. “Like it or not, we’ve started something here, Roxie. And we need to at least give it a chance to see where it’ll go.”

  The sob that tore loose from her had him instinctively pulling her close again. “Damn, honey, don’t cry.”

  She shook her head, keeping her face averted. “It can’t go anywhere, Beckett. It can’t.”

  “Because you don’t want it to go anywhere.” Anger, fueled by rejection, reared its head. He was a fool, thinking his feelings were mirrored, that she felt something for him.

  “No.” She pulled away and faced him.

  Roxie saw the pain and anger in his eyes and the realization hit her like a loaded dump truck. Cliff really cared for her. That unhinged her, robbed her of her resolve to end things without discussion or confession.

  “I’m not who you think I am, Beckett. I’ve…I’ve done things.”

  “Like rig a poker game and cheat a bunch of high-rollers out of millions?”

  It was like a knife to her gut. His words cut deep and carried with them a rush of fear that had her wanting to take flight. How the hell had he found out? And was that all he knew?

  She took a step back, needing to put space between them, needing to think. But Beckett wasn’t of a mind to allow it. He took hold of her wrist and stayed her motion.

  “Roxie, I’m not going to hurt you and I’m not going to pass judgment. I just want to know what happened to make you so damned scared to trust anyone.”