How to Rope a McCoy (Hell Yeah!) Page 31

“Shy?” Heath looked her up and down. The girl had long, perfectly formed legs. “Sweetheart, we’ve made each other cum, told one another secrets, slept together. Why be shy now?”

  Cato held her head up, tilting her up chin almost in defiance. “Because you’re a ten and a half and I’m a five on a good day and I keep expecting you to realize it and wonder what the hell you’re doing here with me.”

  Heath stared at her like she’d grown two heads. “You can’t be serious.”

  Cato didn’t answer, confirming her opinion.

  “All right, worry-wart, let’s analyze this situation.” He took her hand and drew her forward. “Do you know I lie in the bed and fantasize about making love to you? I relive every second we’ve been together.”

  “No,” she answered meekly as he pushed her shirt over her shoulders and let it slide down her arms. “I was just admiring your perfect little bottom and exquisite legs. Let me start at the top and work my way down.” He bit his bottom lip and grinned at her wickedly. “How do I love thee?” Cato’s heart started to pound—he’d said it again. “Let me count the ways.”

  “You’re embarrassing me,” she protested.

  “I don’t care, this has to be said.” He framed her face, picking up the wealth of her hair. “I love to wrap these long curls around my fingers when I fuck you. You’re like a playboy version of a fairy princess.” Cato blushed, but she locked her eyes to his. Who wouldn’t want to know what he said? “I look at you and I’m lost. Big, bright brown eyes, high cheekbones, pouty lips, a sprinkle of freckles over a perky nose. God, baby, you’re every man’s dreams, a cross between a sex goddess and the girl next door.”

  “I didn’t know…”

  “Do you know what I want to do to you? Right now?”

  She shook her head no.

  He finished undressing her, then dropped to his knees and placed an open mouth kiss right at the apex of her mound.

  “Heath…” She sighed. “I’m all for making you happy.”

  “Oh, you do.” He traced her belly button with his tongue. “I love the way you smell, how velvety your skin is.” When he slid his hands up to her breasts and pushed them together, then she lost her mind. “I want to cum between your tits. Can I?”

  “Uh…sure.”

  Heath marveled that she always looked surprised to be desired. “Appreciate your cooperation.” Standing up, he shucked his jeans, socks and underwear, then sat down on the bed and drew her forward. A potent possessiveness thrummed through him. He’d lusted after women before, but not this way. He coveted Cato. “Lie back. I need room to work.”

  Arranging herself on the bed, she put one hand behind her head, the other under her breasts. She looked like sex incarnate. “I want anything you want.” Cato surrendered.

  Careful not to hurt her, Heath straddled her, keeping his weight on his knees. “Let me be clear about what I want.” He took one finger and touched the very end of her nipple, watching it pucker. “I want you underneath me in bed.”

  “I think I am.”

  “Yes, you are.” He put a hand on either side of her breasts, they were soft and smooth from the body lotion she’d applied earlier. “I want to take you so hard and so often that you forget your own name.”

  “Cato who?” she breathed, fully on board with his proposal.

  “And most of all, I want to leave my mark on you so every other male will back off because they smell me all over you.”

  Melt. Cato went liquid, a heaviness settled between her thighs and she felt herself grow damp. He leaned over and brushed his lips along her cheek. She felt the heavy weight of his cock resting on her chest. God, he was serious! Shock waves rippled over her skin as his mouth made blistering contact with hers, devouring her—hot and hungry.

  Heath angled his hips and placed his throbbing cock in the valley between her breasts, then pushed them together, tweaking her nipples with thumbs and forefingers.

  Rising up, he began to pump his hips, sliding his dick up and down her cleavage. Cato thought it was the hottest thing she’d ever seen. She shut her eyes. His hands on her nipples felt like heaven. Without further provocation, she began to clench her feminine muscles in time with the thrusting of his cock.

  Heath rubbed her cheek, begging her attention. Drowsily, she opened her eyes and stared at him. “Do you like all day suckers?”

  For a moment she was confused, then she realized what was near her lips. The friction of his moving between her breasts was exquisite. Every time he pushed that massive erection up, the tip almost hit her in the chin. All she had to do was open her mouth, raise her head just a fraction and…

  “Fuck!” When she fit that hot little mouth over the head of his cock and sucked, he shuddered with pleasure. Wanting to give her as much ecstasy as he was feeling, Heath reached behind him and cupped her vulva, massaging her clit.

  “Yes! Heath!” Cato bucked so hard, she almost unseated him. Heath knew where he wanted to be—in her sweet pussy. He levered himself up on his arms and pushed his legs down on either side of hers. “Open up for me, just a little.” She angled her hips and lifted them, just enough that he could slip inside. “Now, close your legs.”

  “Ah!” She gasped. The position they were in trapped him deep and put delicious pressure on her clit. And when he began to move, Cato couldn’t be still. She clung to him, kissed him, and rubbed her nipples against his chest.

  “This is so good!” Heath bit out the words, his back arched, his toes curled. The erotic little whimpering noises she panted against his neck just added fuel to the fire.

  Cato groaned, digging her nails into his shoulder and writhing beneath him. She was so hungry, wild, starving for him. Without warning, Cato went over the edge, the pressure which had built inside of her burst in a consuming wave of pleasure.

  Heath felt her pussy spasm, tightening around him, milking his cock. He watched her come apart in his arms, shaking—she’d ruined him. He’d never be satisfied with less again. Burying his face in her neck, he thrust once more, hard, and took his release, loving the way she moved and twisted on him like she’d never get enough.

  When they’d calmed, Heath kissed Cato’s shoulder and pulled out of her gently. Then he lay beside her, taking her in his arms so he could cradle her close. “That was amazing,” he touched her cheek, the light from the bathroom illuminating the bed.

  BAM! BAM!

  Heath jumped up. “What’s wrong?” Cato cried.

  “I heard something in the bathroom,” he told her, heading to check it out.

  Getting up, she went along with him, bringing up the rear.

  Once they were both in the small room, Heath looked puzzled. “I swear it sounded like someone was banging the toilet seat up and down.”

  “That’s odd.” She helped him look in the closets—they found nothing.

  Then Heath heard someone bang on the door. THUNK! Cato raced behind him as he went to the door. Throwing the door open, he found no one there.

  “What did you hear?” Cato asked.

  Heath shook his head. “Sounded like someone hit the door with their fist.”

  Cato smiled. “Good thing there was no one there. We’re naked.”

  “Shit.” Heath looked down, then laughed. “I didn’t realize.”

  “Don’t cover up on my account.” Cato teased. “I like to watch your junk swinging around.”

  “Oh, you do?” He grasped her around the waist, tickling. “Let’s get back in the bed.” He held up the covers and she crawled under them with him not far behind.

  “So, what do you think made the noise?” she asked, cuddling close, her head on his shoulder.

  “I don’t know, kids playing a prank. Or maybe a ghost?”

  “I hope so, I’d love to see a ghost.” She stared up at him, adoringly.

  “I can almost guarantee you will. After all, you’re sexy enough to raise the dead.” Tapping her on the end of the nose, he said, “Hey, look! I see one.”

  Cato jumped
. “Where?”

  He pointed down below his waist, where the sheet was perfectly tented by his proud erection.

  She giggled. “Is he a friendly ghost?”

  “Why don’t you crawl under the sheet and see?”

  So, she did. Cato had to admit, he was very friendly.

  And later that night, Cato roused when she felt the mattress sink, give a little as if someone had sat down. Raising her head from Heath’s shoulder, she was shocked to see a little girl sitting on the end of their bed. It happened so fast that Cato didn’t know whether to be frightened or fascinated. But in Heath’s arms, she wasn’t afraid. She stared until the spirit faded from view, then she sighed, went back into his arms and slept like a baby.

  * * *

  The next morning, after making love in the shower, Heath and Cato went down on the River Walk for breakfast. Even early in the morning, there was a festival atmosphere. Bright colors, happy faces and appetizing smells were everywhere. Sitting at a water-side table, Cato leaned back, satisfied with life. “Heuvos Rancheros, no better way to start the day,” she said, then promptly sneezed.

  “Bless you.” He handed her a napkin. “Too hot?”

  “No, I like hot stuff.” Cato winked at him. Glancing at her phone, she jumped up. “We need to go. I don’t want us to be late.”

  “Late for what?” But Cato just smiled, shrugged her shoulders and waited while Heath paid their ticket. As soon as he was through, he allowed himself to be led down the narrow sidewalk by the river as she hurried along. There was no talking to her when she was ahead of him, so he just enjoyed the view of her swaying backside. Soon, they were at the Alamo Amphitheatre and she turned to look at him, triumphantly. He still didn’t know what the surprise was, so he spread his hand enquiringly. “I’m ready. What’s next?”

  She moved aside so he could see the marquee. “Book Signing— “A Line in the Sand” —Laurence Culhane.”

  Heath’s mouth dropped open. “Culhane? How did you know?”

  Cato grinned. “I’ll tell you later, let’s go in.”

  Again, Heath was taken aback by Cato’s insight and concern for him. She always seemed to do the right thing, taking the time to know him and letting him know she cared. He held the door for her and they took their seats near the front.

  Laurence Culhane was a character. He didn’t dress like a famous author, he dressed like one of Heath’s ranch hands with worn boots, jeans and a hat that looked as if he might have sat down on it recently. Reading was one of Heath’s guilty pleasures. Stolen moments with books was something he always looked forward to. His mother had introduced him to reading and taught him that the world was at his fingertips in books, he could live at any place in time or visit any place on Earth or be anyone he could imagine—all through a book.

  “A Line in the Sand is about more than just the Battle of the Alamo. I fictionalized real people and events, yet tried to remain true to history. The book actually starts in a little East Texas town named Nacogdoches and follows…”

  Cato watched Heath as he hung on every word that came out of Culhane’s mouth. After he discussed the book and read an excerpt, he opened the floor for questions and many people asked about his other books, including the one she’d seen on Heath’s desk.

  Even Heath asked a question. “Mr. Culhane, where does your inspiration come from?”

  Culhane propped his booted foot on a chair and smiled. “I guess I was born in the wrong time, probably should have lived in the Old West. Since I was a kid, I’ve been fascinated by it and sit around and imagine I’m a cowboy or an outlaw. I guess you could say I’m the Walter Mitty of literature.”

  When he was finished, Heath went up and introduced himself, bought a book and had it signed. Cato hung back and watched the two men talk. They seemed to hit it off. In a few minutes, Heath returned with a huge smile on his face. “He said if we’d hang around a few minutes, we could have coffee together.”

  “Perfect.” Cato hugged him. “While you were visiting, I called the herb farm and the peach orchard and they’re going to get some samples and information ready for me, so all I’ll have to do is stop and take a few photos. We can still make it back to Highlands before dark.”

  “Are you sure? I can tell him we need to leave.” Heath looked a tad guilty as he pointed toward the author who was still signing books.

  “Absolutely, I’m just glad you’re enjoying this.”

  Heath grabbed her, right there in front of Culhane and the ghost of Davy Crockett and kissed her soundly. “You’re so good to me. I’ll never forget it.”

  Cato hugged him back, wishing his words hadn’t sounded so final.

  * * *

  After drinking coffee with Laurence Culhane and checking out of their room, Heath and Cato were on the road. Both of the places she needed to visit were west of the city and after stopping at them, they headed back north. “That was amazing. Tell me, I’m curious, how did you know about my fascination with Culhane?”

  Okay, this was it. Cato didn’t know why she’d hidden the truth for so long, but she had. “Two things, actually…” she began slowly. He waited. She swallowed. “I saw his book on your desk in your room and it reminded me of the last time I saw that book.”

  “And?” Heath knew there was more to the story.

  “Do you remember saving a young girl from rape in the St. Martinville Library?”

  Heath stared at her. “Yes, that happened years ago. How did you know?”

  Cato nervously pushed her hair over her shoulder. “That was me. I was so frightened and in a daze that day you stood up for me. I leaned against the wall crying and I remember focusing on the books you’d thrown on the floor.”

  Amazed, Heath looked at her and then back at the wall. Cato couldn’t read his expression. “I’m shocked. Have you known all the time?”

  Cato could read more into his question than he was stating. He wanted to know if she pursued him because of that incident. "No, I didn’t recognize you at first. I mean I felt a connection, but I think that was more sexual attraction than some edict of fate ordained by the universe.” She knew she was using flippancy as a defense mechanism.

  Heath felt a little uncomfortable. “I’m sorry I didn’t speak to you that day. I wanted to avoid anyone making a big deal about what I did.”

  “Like you did yesterday after saving that woman and her children?”

  “You did as much as I did at the wreck,” he countered.

  “I understand what you’re saying.” She turned to face him more fully in the seat. “My mother didn’t let me talk to anyone that day, anyway. But I never forgot you and I’m extremely grateful. You saved me. I didn’t know it was you until I saw a family portrait in your kitchen the day of the BBQ.”

  “Why didn’t you say something then?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted whatever was between us to happen because of who we are now and not who we used to be.”

  Heath didn’t know what to say. For him, everything seemed to be falling into place, like it was meant to be. Heath didn’t know if he felt relieved or threatened. This whole thing with Cato was incredible but he felt like he was spinning out of control. “Life is funny.” Wow, what a stupid remark. Next thing he’d be saying was ‘it’s a small world.’ Inane.

  Okay, this might have been a mistake, Cato thought. “Anyway, I’m grateful for what you did. If you hadn’t come along, I would’ve been raped. Today is just a thank-you.”

  Before he could check his words, Heath spoke, “Is that what all of this was, Cato? A thank-you?”

  “No.” She frowned. “How can you think that?”

  “Frankly, I don’t know what to think. I need to make some phone calls.” He picked up his phone and Cato looked out the window, wondering how things had gone so bad.

  They rode in silence and finally she laid her head back and slept.

  A touch on her shoulder brought her out of slumber. “Where are we?”

 
“Tebow. I needed to stop and I didn’t think you’d mind.”

  She started to get out.

  He grabbed her arm. Cato looked at him. “No, wait, they don’t know we’re here yet and I need to say something first.” Heath began, a look of sincerity on his face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why what you told me upset me. I’m thankful I rescued you and our meeting again is wild. I just didn’t want our time together to be payback.”

  “It’s not,” she assured him. “It’s many things, but it’s not payback.”

  “Okay, good.”

  A tap on the car window caused Heath to look over his shoulder. “We’ve been made,” he said to Cato.

  By that time, Avery was at the passenger door, opening it and dragging Cato out. “It’s good to see you! That game you gave us was incredible.”

  Isaac joined her, holding out his hand. “Yea, thank you, Cato. I even learned a few things playing it. What was that?” He turned to Avery and winked. “You ate a donut off my…”

  “Hush!” Avery swatted him. “Be nice.” She put an arm around Cato and whispered, “I need to find donuts with bigger holes, if you know what I mean.”

  Cato giggled. “At least you have more material for your next book.”

  “True, come on in. Jessie is here with little Bowie and the twins are in their swings.”

  Heath and Isaac followed the girls in and once they’d gone through Tebow’s big front door, they were surrounded by more McCoys. Cato was immediately confiscated by the girls and led to the sofa nearest the fireplace. She glanced over her shoulder to see where Heath was and saw him heading off with the men.

  “They’ll be back,” Jessie assured her. “They always come back.”

  “And aren’t we glad,” Libby said. Cato knew she was remembering the days when Aron was missing.

  “Where’s Skye?” Cato asked, noticing her absence.

  “I believe she’s helping Zane out with Philip’s case. They drove up to the Highlands yesterday and Noah’s with her,” Jessie answered.

  “Although, I think Noah has gone up to Fort Worth to do some work on that foundation he’s set up to help ranchers utilize some of their acreage for preserves and wildlife habitats.” Cady interjected as she handed out two cups of coffee. “What do you take in yours, Cato? And would you like some bread pudding? Fresh-baked.”