Page 8 of The Curvy Girl's Christmas Cowboy
There is no way going to a bar with Storm Rogers is somehow my civic duty. As we step inside Boondocks, I’m immediately hit with the pungent smell of stale beer, sweat, and fried food. I’ve been coming here for as long as I can remember. Boondocks is West Palomino’s only legitimate hang out for locals. Some call it a dive, but for me, it’s home sweet home. I give Travis the owner a wave as we pass the bar and make our way to a table in the corner.
I’m fully aware of Storm’s powerful hand on the small of my back as he guides me through the throng, sending sizzling heat through my veins. The place is dimly lit, with a few pool tables in the back room, and a modest stage set up off to the side. The Ramblers are already playing. The crowd’s energy throbs around us with sounds of hoots and hollering, twangy steel guitars, and drums.
Every female in the vicinity practically breaks a neck to stare at Storm. I know he isn’t mine, and I have zero claim on him, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit, I’m getting a thrill at the thought of people assuming the gorgeous man beside me is my date.
The music is softer near our table next to the fireplace, but people are still shouting to be heard over it. The atmosphere is festive, with groups and couples huddled together, laughing and drinking in front of the crackling roaring fire. A charming Christmas tree in the corner twinkles in blue, red, orange and purple lights. I glance around the room, soaking up my cheery surroundings, while Ginny the cocktail server, takes our drink orders.
After she hurries off, Storm leans in close to me, his lips almost touching my ear. “If the Ramblers are going to get a fair shake, don’t you think we should probably dance to them?”
I laugh. “Let me guess, it’s our civic duty?”
“Now you’re getting it.” Storm rises from his chair with a naughty gleam in his sparkling brown eyes. “Ready?”
Are you kidding? The man is irresistible. My body bubbles over with excitement and anticipation as he leads me to the dance floor just as the Ramblers transition into a slow song I don’t recognize. It must be one of their originals.
Storm gives me a reassuring smile before pulling me close, and wrapping his arms around my waist. My pulse races as tingly heat floods through my system. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all, his touch is already making me weak. I’ve been wet for him since he caught me when I almost fell off the ladder in the barn.
I rest my cheek on his broad chest, inhaling his addictive scent mixed with the cotton from his shirt. We sway to the music, slow and steady with our bodies in effortless sync, as if we’ve been dancing together for years. The tenderness of his lips brush against my forehead and I snuggle closer despite understanding how risky it is to let down my guard with him. He’s stirring up all kinds of emotions I thought I’d buried years ago.
But in this moment, all I want to do is forget about the world and let myself drown in his protective arms. I nervously glance up at him, while my cheeks flush with heat. He lifts my chin a little higher with his strong callused fingers. His warm breath whispers against my skin as he looks deeply into my eyes and I’m lost in his gaze—unable to look away. The intensity of his stare sends another ripple of undeniable desire through my body.
Without a word, Storm closes the gap between us, pressing his delicious full lips firmly against mine. His hands trace the curve of my hips before he pulls me flush against him leaving me no doubt he’s as turned on as I am. His rock-hard erection only fuels my passion. The kiss is fierce and wild. All systems go, as I melt into him. I’ve never forgotten Storm’s kisses. No one has ever kissed me the way he does—primal, wanton, no holds barred.
Our tongues tangle, exploring each other’s with an insatiable hunger. I lose myself in the moment, forgetting where I am, or whether kissing him is right or wrong. It’s impossible for me to think of anything other than wanting all of him. Everything he can give me. My hands rove over his strong arms, relishing the hard planes of the mouthwatering muscles hiding under his shirt.
We pull away, gasping for air, our faces still so close that we’re sharing each other’s breaths. “I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I saw you in the bakery,” he murmurs in a husky voice, never taking his eyes off me, as though I’m the only person on the planet. “I’ve never forgotten you Peach.”
“Storm,” I say, replaying his words in my head over and over, just to be sure I heard him correctly. “I had no idea you felt that way about me.”
“I was just waiting for the right time to tell you,” he whispers, and I dissolve into the sensation of his warm lips brushing against my cheek. But then I remind myself this is the same man who slept with my roommate.
“Are you sure?” I step back, breaking the intimacy of our kiss before I dive in headfirst and set myself up for another disappointment.
“More than you know, darlin’.” He sounds so sincere, but I scrutinize his expression in the dim light, searching for any clue he might be playing with me. “Give me a chance and let me prove it to you.”
I’m speechless as the band kicks into the next song, this one is fast and loud. It’s been so long since anyone has kissed me at all, never mind passionately, my body is in shock. My knees wobble as we walk back to our seats, and I lean into him feeling his strength anchor me. This could be the start of something fantastic, but it could also be the beginning of another emotional rollercoaster.
We slide into our chairs and I take a sip of my spiked hot chocolate trying to get a grip. I’m still floating in the clouds from his kiss—
“Peach is that you?” Someone shouts behind me. “Peach!”
I swing my head around and my heart drops to the floor. What timing. Marjorie Sandino, my old roommate, the very one who screwed Storm casually strolls to our table in a short black sweater dress and cowboy boots without a trace of guilt.
“I was hoping I’d run into you.” She flashes a pretty smile and brushes her thick blonde curls off her shoulders. “I’m home for the holidays.” She juts out her left hand. “Looksie,” she shrieks. “I’m engaged!” I stare at her in disbelief. She doesn’t wait for my reply and shifts to the main attraction. “And if it isn’t Storm Rogers, long time no see, sugar.” Marjorie puts her charm into high gear for him, and my stomach does a flip.
My options are limited, but I’m sure not about to sit here like a third wheel. Nor do I have any intention of listening to the former lovers reminisce. I’m a small town second grade teacher. Sorry folks, I’m simply not that cool.
I plaster a pleasant smile on my face and lean close to Storm, saying as gracefully as possible, “I’m going to call a cab, okay?” Cabs are still the only option for transportation in our tiny town. My parents are probably asleep, Cherry needs rest before her trip and Gunner is at his holiday party. “You two probably need a little privacy.” I snag my purse and start to get up but Storm grasps my wrist.
“Where are you going? I have no need to reconnect with Marjorie. She was your roommate, not mine.You and Ihaven’t even officially caught up yet.”
“I just wanted to give you two some space.”
He inhales deeply, and I can see I’ve irritated him. “We didn’t sleep together if that’s what you’re thinking. I told you; she was lying.”
“Is there a problem guys?” Marjorie asks obliviously.
“As a matter of fact, there is.” Storm eyes a nearby vacant chair and drags it over. “Why don’t you join us.” He taps the seat with a smirk.
