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How to Rope a McCoy (Hell Yeah!) Page 12
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Yet despite the attention from a number of men, celebrity and otherwise, she had eyes only for, “Heath McCoy.” She breathed his name like a prayer. Running her fingers under her hair, she lifted her arms over her head, pushing her fingers over her scalp and stretching.
On the other side of the wall, Heath backed up and sat down heavily on the bed. “Cato! I can see you!” he yelled, not loudly, realizing instantaneously that she couldn’t hear his words. The gentlemanly thing to do would be to go into her room and let her know, and turn off the damn cameras. But when she smiled at the camera, leaned over to tousle her hair, stretched and came back up throwing that wealth of dark curls behind like a waterfall, he was lost. Did she know he was watching?
Damn, he didn’t know how these cameras were set up. Was it two-way? Could she see him? He tested it, walking right up to the screen and giving her a hard stare so she could read his lips. “What do you think you’re doing?”
But she didn’t reply, she didn’t even react like she could see him. Maybe it wasn’t his face she was looking at. The idea made him hard—immediately. So he stepped back, grabbed his crotch and thrust his hips forward in an age-old provocative move designed to cause women to lie down and part their legs in invitation.
Nothing.
Heath didn’t think Cato was that good of an actress to not react to him at all. So, he had to conclude she couldn’t see him—but, God, could he see her. She was stripping, not like a dancer, but like a sensuous woman who enjoyed her body.
He could sympathize.
God bless the man who made tight jeans. Cato pushed a hip to the right and tugged, then to the left, peeling them off like a second skin. And every glorious inch of flesh she revealed had Heath leaning closer and closer to the screen. Look at those curves!
Kicking off the denim pants, Cato wished she were sexier. She didn’t have a lot of erotic moves, never needed them until now. At least she had on some sexy underwear, lots of good it had done her. She frowned at the wasted opportunity. Usually she wore serviceable bras which kept her secure and contained, but tonight she’d worn a plunging barely-there red lace bra and a tiny pair of bikini panties. All dressed up and nowhere to go. Cato couldn’t help but laugh at her own predicament. Pretending, she ran her hands down her body and did her best to sound sultry, or at least she hoped she did. “Touch me, please. I ache for you.” Cupping her breasts, she ran her fingers over her nipples, moaning at her own touch. “I know I’m wet. Wanna see?”
“God, yes,” he moaned as his fist found his cock and began to work it up and down. If Cato didn’t realize she had an audience, he was just one blessed man. And he’d turned her down? God, help him.
“Patient, be patient, my love. I’ll give you what you need.” Cato pinched her nipples through the lace, whimpering at how good it felt. Heath was behind her, she could almost feel his heat as he slid his hands around her waist and lifted her breasts, pushing her hands out of the way so he could massage and lift them, rolling her nipples between his fingers. His breath would be hot against her neck and the rasp of his beard would leave its mark behind. “Hmmmm, I need to be fucked.”
Shit. Heath almost came off the bed. He had never been this turned on before—not even when he had a willing woman under him.
Oh, it felt so good, Cato threw her head back, baring her throat so Heath could kiss and tongue her. “Come around,” she implored. “I need your mouth.” The man in her dreams obeyed, moving to face her, sitting on the bed and pulling her close so he could consume her lips and blaze a trail of heated kisses down her throat, his tongue licking down into her cleavage. “Suck me!” Oh, how she longed to feel a man’s lips on her nipples.
Heath wanted to comply more than he wanted to breathe. “Show them to me, baby. Show me where you need my mouth.”
As if she could hear and obey, Cato unhooked her bra, baring herself to his sight. As if he were with her and she was whole and normal. His growl of approval rang in her ears as her breasts were unveiled.
Fuck. Heath ratcheted up his strokes as he saw what that sexy bra had been hiding. Cato was delectable—round, firm, plump and perfectly natural. He itched to get his hands and lips on her. Licking his mouth, his hips bucked helplessly as he imagined framing those tits and pushing them together, laving those nipples and taking them between his lips to suckle to his heart’s content. Lord, how he’d love on her.
Unaware of the show she was putting on or the result it was having, Cato slid her panties down and off her legs. Her fingers sought out her cleft, sinking in and testing to see how wet she was. “I’m so creamy for you, Heath. My pussy wants you so much. I’m so empty. Please, please…” she chanted as she swirled her clit and pushed her fingers up inside of her tight sheathe. No man had ever taken her, but if Heath didn’t claim her soon, she would combust from sheer need.
Would he go down on her? Would he bow at her feet and rub his face on her mound, part her thighs and give her what no man ever had? “Lick me, Heath,” she begged. Not able to stand anymore, she went to the bed and lay down, opening her legs wide and playing with her pussy in earnest. God, when she got this excited, she had to have it. Cato loved to make herself cum. Fingers working between her thighs, she let her hips undulate, seeking and begging for the man of her dreams to cover her, come unto her, fill her up and fuck her till she screamed.
“God, baby.” She was fuckin’ unbelievable. Heath jerked off as he watched her writhe on the bed, fingering herself to ecstasy. He couldn’t believe his eyes. She was everything he’d ever wanted—wild, wanton, and seemingly desperate—for him.
Spreading herself wide, she frantically rubbed her clit. “Please, please, I beg you, Heath. Take me, fuck me. God, I need you!” She literally screamed the last few words as an orgasm hit her so hard that her hips lifted from the bed and a cry of wild abandon rose in the room. “Heath!”
“I’ll give you what you need,” he promised as Heath let go, helpless to hold back his own explosion as he watched the woman on the screen fly apart, his name on her lips.
They both came down slowly, him caressing his cock with languishing strokes and her massaging her vulva as aftershocks still made her jerk and quiver.
And God knows, Heath was about to go to her. Surely she knew he was watching. Surely he had been treated to a magnificently staged performance—after all, she’d told him the game was on. If this woman was innocent, he’d eat his black Stetson. Patrick O’Rourke had been wrong, he had to be. So Heath waited, convinced she’d sit up and ‘meet’ his eye, admitting with a saucy wink that she knew he was watching.
But that wasn’t what happened.
Cato let out a long breath, tugged up the sheet and curled up like a kitten. “Heath, I wish you were here. I want you so much.” The whisper wasn’t loud, but he heard it and he knew that what he’d witnessed had been real, un-staged and erotic as hell. And instead of putting him off, her sincerity only made him want her more.
Accept her proposition?
Hell yeah!
* * *
“Where were you last night?” Tennessee rode up beside Heath, wiping the sweat off his brow.
“I slept up at the house. There was some paperwork I needed to get done.” Which wasn’t a total lie. Before he’d gone to bed he had gone over one of Philip’s affidavits with Zane. Zane and Presley had arrived late to the BBQ and seemed to bring good news. Dalton Smith’s bank accounts showed an influx of money a few weeks before he was murdered and Zane hoped to trace the source of the funds in hope that it would lead them to the real killer.
“Look.” Tennessee pointed to Jimmy and Judah as they galloped across the pasture right in behind two bull calves who were doing their damndest to avoid getting roped. And who could blame them? Today they would be giving up their balls and have a rocking H burned on their hindquarters. “Those two are having a blast.”
“I presume you’re talking about our friends and not our cattle.” Heath laughed.
“Yea, I am.” Cutting an
d branding was a hard job, but having everyone work together in a party atmosphere made it easier. “I got the paternity test.”
Heath pulled his horse up short. “And?”
Tennessee sighed. “I’m gonna be a daddy.”
“Damn, I don’t know what to say.” Congratulations should be in order, but he knew Tennessee’s wife had broken his heart. Women. And here he was about to walk right into the sweetest kind of trap. Common sense told him he should keep Cato at arm’s length, but after what he’d seen the night before—what he’d felt as he watched her pleasure herself—the decision was taken out of his hands. He was thinking with his cock now, Heath couldn’t deny it.
“There’s nothing to say. The baby is mine. I have to deal with it.”
Heath hated that Tennessee had to go through this. Every child should be welcomed into the world and this one would be—it would be a McCoy. “Do you plan on seeing Molly?”
Tennessee backed up his horse to avoid several cattle coming their way, all trying to avoid the horsemen who chased them. “I think I’ll have to, don’t you?”
“It’s probably wise,” Heath agreed as he watched Jaxson waving his arms to head off a couple of calves. He still couldn’t ride, but he was doing what he could.
“Hey, Heath!” Philip yelled at his brother as he and Jimmy rode up beside them. “Have you seen Arness?”
Just the name got Heath’s nose out of joint. “Nope, and I’m not anxious to. I just can’t cotton to him. You know some folks are all right till they get two pairs of britches.”
Philip smirked. “Anytime you start talking in Texas colloquialisms, I know there’s fixing to be trouble.”
“He’s trying to throw a wide loop with a short rope.” Heath continued, disgusted at the thought of Caesar Arness, especially after seeing him talking to Cato.
“Will you speak American, please?” Jimmy lamented. “I’d like to be able to follow the conversation.”
Tennessee interpreted for his brother. “Heath has never particularly cared for Caesar. He started out as a wildcatter but got lucky on some land he acquired. After that he started buying up property right and left. When his wells struck oil, he changed. Money made him mean and hungry for more. He’s always up to something and Heath thinks he’s trying to be something he isn’t. In other words our brother doesn’t trust him.”
Jimmy frowned at his friend. “Well, why didn’t you just say so?”
“I did.” Heath rubbed his forehead. “He’s always driving around in that big one ton with the welding equipment on the back. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t out cutting fences or gates with that torch. It’s like carrying around a pair of wire cutters in your pick-up truck, which is against the law in Texas, by the way.” Taking his canteen from the side of his saddle, Heath took a swig of water. “Why would you think Arness is here? I thought he left last night.”
“I did too,” Philip leveled a look at his brother, “but one of the hands said they saw him riding down toward Sandy Creek with a man he’d never seen before.”
“Shit. What is he up to?” Heath didn’t need this, not now. “Get a couple of our men to ride down that way to see what’s going on. He ain’t got no business just roaming around. It’s just like him to take advantage of a party invitation to stick his nose where it don’t belong.”
“Will do.” Philip took off and Tennessee did also, heading over to help a few of the guests as they began the cutting operation.
“How’s it going with his case?” Jimmy asked when Philip was out of earshot. “Well, we thought that thumb drive Noah found would be more help than it actually has been so far. What it did was show Dalton’s interest in the mine and that part was beneficial. The evidence they supposedly have on Philip is circumstantial but finding out who really pulled the trigger would make us all feel better. The problem is figuring out a motive, for sure. If it wasn’t jealousy, like the prosecution wanted to say it was, then what was it exactly? No one thinks it was a random killing. There was a definite purpose behind it and we need to know what that purpose was.”
Jimmy could sense Heath’s frustration. “Do you need to hire more investigators?”
Heath let out a long breath. “I don’t guess it would hurt. What I need is a direction to send them in. They ask us for guidance and I have a hard time giving them any.”
“I have a couple of special men I can put at your disposal.”
Special? He didn’t have to ask. Jimmy knew ways of finding out information that the FBI envied—literally. Smiling at his generous friend, Heath replied, “Thanks, this time I think I’ll take you up on it.”
“Good.” Jimmy seemed better satisfied. “I’m trying to make up for hitting on your woman.”
Heath snorted. “Jimmy, I told you she isn’t my woman. She’s a family friend who I’m trying to protect.” After last night, those words weren’t exactly true anymore and judging by the look on Jimmy’s face, Heath wasn’t really fooling him any.
“And who are you protecting her from, exactly?”
Damn. “You see too much, Dushku.” Jimmy was right. Mostly Heath had been trying to protect Cato from himself.
“She was the woman you were thinking about the night we were at Iron Cactus, the one you tried to take off your mind with Silver.”
“Yep.”
“I was thinking of inviting Silver and Cher to join us this evening.”
“Not a good idea.” Heath was fast to inject. Then when he saw Jimmy’s expression, he knew Dushku was just giving him a hard time. “Ass.”
Without missing a beat, Heath chucked his canteen at Jimmy, who caught it deftly with a laugh. “Remember, I want to be best man at your wedding.”
“Don’t hold your breath, Jimmy. I don’t give CPR to men.”
* * *
Meanwhile…back at the ranch house, Cato was busy helping Pepper and Ryder get ready for lunch. “This is a lot of food!” At last count, Cato had determined there were seventy-five people in attendance, counting the Highlands ranch hands who ate with everyone else. Last night the prime rib had been cooked on a big open pit. Today there was a different theme. Big vats of hot oil were being readied to fry shrimp, French fries and several other delicacies, some that Cato couldn’t readily identify. Big oysters, maybe?
“The McCoy men are all big eaters,” Ryder said.
Cady, Joseph McCoy’s wife, laughed light-heartedly. “They all have healthy appetites in several areas, for which their women are very grateful.”
“I bet.” Cato sighed wistfully. After Heath had turned down her offer the night before, she was a bit depressed and not exactly sure how to proceed.
“The men are coming!” Ryder announced and Cato looked over to see several dozen horsemen all riding up. Some of them carried coolers which they took over to the big fry pots. She wondered about that, but the sight of Heath took her mind off the menu.
“I see who you’re watching,” Cady spoke to her, one hand soothing her pregnant belly.
“Just watching is all.” Cato took her eyes off Heath long enough to speak with the beautiful Cady. “I feel like a kid looking through the window of a candy store. Heath isn’t interested in me for some reason.” Probably for several reasons. The longer she was here at Highlands, the more she realized this was a different world than she was used to. They were all very kind to her and made her feel welcome, but deep inside Cato knew she didn’t quite fit in. Despite that epiphany, the offer she made to Heath was still good. She was gambling for high stakes, willing to give it all she had and accept from Heath what he was willing to give in return.
“Don’t be so sure.” Cady had a mysterious look on her face. “I understand from Avery and Harley that you know Nana Fontenot.”
“Yes…” Cato answered slowly. Everyone from south Louisiana had heard of Nana Fontenot. She had thought about her not long ago, how she’d predicted Patrick and Savannah’s marriage.
“She’s my grandmother.” Cady announced as if that fact said i
t all.
And it sorta did. “You know something about me and Heath?”
The very idea made shivers dance across Cato’s skin.
“Not exactly.” Cady clasped her hands together. “Since I’ve been pregnant, I don’t have the visions like she does. I used to and perhaps I will again someday, but all my energy seems to be going into taking care of these babies.”
“So, what did you mean when you said for me to not be so sure?” Hope wanted to flourish in her heart.
“I just have a feeling.” Cady smiled. “I can still see auras and yours and his keep flashing red and purple anytime you are together, which is a pretty good indication of mutual interest.”
“Oh, I see.” She didn’t, not really. The idea that she was surrounded by colored energy was a little far-fetched for her. Cady, however, was from a family who not only believed those things but manifested them beyond contradiction. Besides the incident with Savannah where she predicted the future, Cato had heard that the Fontenots had done everything from helping people protect themselves from danger with magick to affecting the weather. She wasn’t sure how much of this she believed, but there were plenty of people who did. “Thank you, I’ll take any type of encouragement I can get.”
Cady pointed behind Cato. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Cato turned and saw a pretty young woman standing behind her. She had short dark hair and a vibrant smile. “Tammy, this is Cato Vincent. Cato meet Tamara Grayson. Joseph is sponsoring her in the first Women’s Extreme Sports completion. Tammy does it all. She runs, swims, bicycles, rock climbs, snowboards, and base jumps. And she wins at it all.”