The Boy Toy

“See what I do to you?” he inquired.

What you do to me. Not about to respond, barely able to hear him over her pounding heart, Allison took another scrumptious bite. “My God, this is decadent.”

“Not quite what you’re accustomed to in good old Highland Park, eh?”

“You say ‘Highland Park’ as if it’s an obscenity.”

“Not exactly a ripe atmosphere for pickup trucks and barbecue—unless there’s a secret life shared by bankers’ daughters that you’re not telling me about.”

That comment touched a nerve, and Allison frowned at him. “No secret life at all. Just a typical Highland Park home. Two people who married more for business and social reasons than for love—and an older brother who was a bookworm.”

“Leaving you to be the wild child?” he asked with an unexpected touch of gentleness.

Realizing she’d confided in Pete more than she’d intended, Allison lifted her chin. “I don’t think I was any wilder than any other SMU girl. But then, you know the type, right?”

A sheepish look came over him. “Hey, Allison, I apologize. I didn’t mean to sound so jaded. And I’m sorry for what you missed as a child. I grew up in a very warm and loving home.” Abruptly his expression hardened. “The only problem being my shit of a younger brother.”

She laughed. “So that’s how you got the idea that younger siblings are trouble.”

He leaned toward her, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “Honey, you’re trouble. But in the best possible way.”

Feeling too charmed by him, Allison took a moment to collect her thoughts. “Well, my parents certainly found me to be a real handful—in the worst way. Some of the stunts I pulled in high school—going to rave parties and heavy metal concerts—drove them up the wall. These days, they’re especially ticked off because I decided to move to Houston rather than marry one of several fair-haired sons of their wealthy friends.”

“Yeah, parents sure can meddle like that, can’t they?” he asked.

She eyed him curiously, wondering if he were again referring to the elusive “Mary Lou.” “Yes, they can.”

He nodded. “Well, I’m very glad yours weren’t successful. But then I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re a headstrong creature, aren’t you?”

“Don’t forget it,” she advised proudly.

He gestured toward her plate. “Now that you’ve all but licked the plate clean, would you like dessert? They make a mean peach cobbler.”

“I think I’d give myself a heart attack,” she declared.

“Coffee then? Or another beer?”

“Another beer sounds good.”

He motioned for the waitress. “Wanna dance?”

“Sure. But the band is taking a break.”

“There’s always the jukebox.”

“Fine.”

They both stood. Allison was starting away when Pete caught her hand. “Wait just a minute.”

“Yes?” Her flesh seemed to sizzle where he touched her.

His gaze held hers as slowly, he began unbuttoning her suit jacket. Allison realized she should object, but she was just too intrigued. When he slipped the garment off her shoulders, his strong warm fingers brushed her bare arms, and she restrained a moan of treacherous longing. Gooseflesh consumed her as he devoured her shapely breasts clad in the skimpiest white cashmere tank top.

“Ah, that’s better,” he said huskily.

“It’s cooler,” Allison protested with a shiver.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

Indeed, her fingers seemed to burn as Pete led her out onto the dance floor. Stepping away briefly, he put some coins in the old Wurlitzer jukebox and punched some buttons. As he returned to her side, Sheryl Crow began to croon, “In Need.” Allison’s knees almost buckled. How could he know that was one of her favorite songs? And so very sensual.

To be honest, she was in need. In need of him. When Pete tenderly pulled her into his arms and his body heat inundated her, when he pressed his temple against her own, suddenly all of her seemed to ache for him. He was so powerful, so warm, so vibrant. So close to her. She breathed a sigh of mingled frustration and desire.

He swept her about in a slow, sexy two-step, the scent of him driving her crazy. His wonderful hands caressed her bare arms, her back. Gradually those skilled fingers slid down her spine until he cupped her hips. She shuddered with longing. His wicked, hot fingers seemed to brand her.

And wasn’t that just what she had yearned for earlier—liberated creature though she was?

Then he drew her closer still, until she felt his hardness. Whimpering softly, Allison realized she should protest his boldness—but Santa Anna’s army couldn’t have dragged her away from this sexy Texan at the moment.

Her languid gaze drifted up to his. “Where are we headed with this, cowboy?”

He gently touched her cheek. “I think you know, don’t you, sugar?”

Oh, yes. She knew.

PETE COULDN’T HAVE FELT more thrilled as he and Allison danced away the night—to the Soggy Bottom Boys and the Dixie Chicks, and to anything the band played, even old Hank Williams’s tunes. She felt so wonderful in his arms—warm, soft, curvaceous, and she smelled so sweet. Feeling her shapely bottom move against his hands, Pete was hard-pressed not to haul her even closer and kiss her senseless. After all, she must be willing, or she would have rapped his knuckles long before now.

She was a feisty one, all right. She’d certainly put him through his paces today, and he was pleased as punch that he’d managed to keep her on the hook. In fact, he remained a bit shocked that she’d gone out with him at all, when she’d so obviously assumed he was a hick.

Still, she was coming around. She’d warmed up to him a lot over the course of the evening. The encounter with Gussie had been unfortunate, especially the mention of Mary Lou. But thank heaven his old family friend hadn’t spilled all the beans. For he still had some surprises in store for the spirited Ms. Allison Tracy…

At eleven she stumbled slightly in his arms, and he looked down into her gorgeous, slightly dazed eyes. “Guess I’d best drive you home. You’ve had a bit too much to drink.”

“And you haven’t?” she countered.

Pete had to smile. Even slightly tipsy, she was full of spirit. “Two beers at dinner, and sodas ever since. One of us had to remain sober enough to drive us safely home.”

“Yeah. At ninety miles an hour.”

Chuckling, he leaned over to nuzzle her ear, and satisfaction surged in him at the sound of her breathy little sigh. “Now that we know what your little engine can do, we can take our time. My point is, honey, you’ve had three beers.”

“Counting the empty bottles along the road to seduction, are you, cowboy?” she quipped. But he could hear the huskiness of desire in her voice, and passion stormed through him with new intensity.

He paused as Garth Brooks began singing on the jukebox, “To Make You Feel My Love,” one of Pete’s favorite ballads. “One last dance?” he asked her wistfully.

“Sure,” she murmured.

As they slowly stepped about she clung to him as if his arms were the most comfortable place to be in the world, and tenderness filled him. Lord, to have this evening end with him making love to her. That would be more than heaven, a dream come true. Even now she was snuggled up to him so trustingly.

Trust me a bit more, angel, he silently entreated.

A shudder racked Pete. For once he was shocked by the level of his own cravings. He’d picked up this woman earlier almost on a lark; he hadn’t counted on how deeply she would affect him.

“You know, you’ve been pretty nice to me,” she whispered huskily, breaking into his thoughts. “Fixing my car. Buying me dinner. Now driving me home.”

Warmed by her praise, he murmured, “My pleasure, honey.”

“But how will you get home?”

“I have a feeling that won’t be a problem.”

She managed a mock scowl. “Confident, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yeah,” he admitted. “But if there is a problem, I’ll take a cab home, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll pay,” she offered in a rush of generosity.

He clutched her tighter, drowning in her scent, pressing his lips to her brow. “Oh, yeah, honey. You will.”

Pete realized that even in her dazed state, Allison knew his comment had nothing to do with carfare.

5

ON THE WAY HOME, the warmth of the car, the thrum of the engine and the aftereffects of the beer she’d drunk, left Allison with a pleasantly drowsy feeling. She hadn’t realized she was nodding off, until her head slumped onto Pete’s shoulder. Flinching slightly, she sat back up.

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he murmured. “Why don’t you just curl up and put your head in my lap?”

That comment thoroughly awakened her. “Hah!” She nodded toward the console. “My midriff would feel just great propped over the gear shift—and where would you like me to put my mouth?”

He hooted a laugh. “Do you really want suggestions?”

“No!”

“Think we need a little more music,” he rejoined. He fumbled at the console. “Didn’t I see Gone in Sixty Seconds here with your other CD’s?”

Allison flipped on a map light and searched for the jewel case. “Gone in Sixty Seconds, eh?”

“Every mechanic in the country must have a copy of that CD. Best car-boosting movie ever made, and best soundtrack.”

She flipped open the case and handed the disk to him. “So you’re not just a C & W junkie?”

“I played Steppenwolf driving out here, didn’t I?”

Allison smiled wistfully. “My aunt Tessa got me hooked on his music when I was little. She was really into the whole Easy Rider, ‘Born to be Wild’ scene.”

“So is her niece,” he quipped.

“Whatever. Anyway, Aunt Tessa always played counterculture music when we were out cruising in her vintage Mustang.”

“Sounds like a cool aunt.” He slipped the CD into the drive.

“Yeah. A lot cooler than her brother—my father. Everyone thinks I inherited my rebellious streak from her.” She gestured toward the CD player. “Hell, my parents would have matching purple cows if they knew I was listening to DMX and Ice Cube.”

He grinned and busied himself adjusting the volume. A silence stretched between them as The Cult began to wail, “Painted on my Heart.” Allison groaned. She’d forgotten that track started out the CD—and it was probably the most torrid love song in Allison’s entire collection. Her audio system was first rate, too. The throbbing lament filled the car’s interior, pulsing with raw power and sexual energy. She squirmed in her seat.

Was the wanton ballad getting to Pete as much as it was to her? She glanced at him covertly. His gaze was fixed on the road, and Allison couldn’t be sure just what he was feeling. But suddenly she just had to touch him; experimentally, she reached out and settled her hand on his warm thigh.

He made a guttural sound, then abruptly pulled the car off the highway, bringing it to a stop in front of a closed gas station, and flipping off the engine.

Startled, she drew back her fingers. “Is something wrong?”

He turned to her, his gaze searing hers in the reflected neon light. His rough fingers reached out to caress her soft cheek. “No, sugar, I’d say something is very right.”

Allison died a little then. For even the steamy music couldn’t match the fervor of the look passing between her and Pete at that moment. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take, wanting him so badly and having him at arm’s length this way. The carnal song only intensified the longing between them, screaming out of dark, secret places, and sweaty bodies locked in passion.

Could he hear her own feelings throbbing on the wavelengths?

Apparently he could as his gaze darkened, smoldered. “Come here,” he rasped.

He didn’t have to beg her. Allison thrust herself into his arms across the console, felt his strength and heat enveloping her. His sigh of yearning mingled with her own. Then he leaned over, his fevered lips teasing her, lingering over her brow, hovering on her cheek, until she thought she would scream if he didn’t kiss her. At last he did—their mouths colliding in scorching need, his tongue slashing deeply inside her mouth.

Allison whimpered and clung to him, seeking his own mouth with her tongue. Oh, he could kiss—kiss as if he were climbing inside her. She was reeling and would have melted away to the floorboards had he not held her. As if he sensed her weakness, he molded her breasts more snugly against him. She moaned and opened her mouth wider, inviting his unabashed possession. Her nipples ached pleasurably against his crushing chest, and when he drew her hand to his crotch she did not flinch, even as the hardness and heat of his sex pressed against her fingertips sent desire shooting inside her, strong and deep. She was trembling, sorely tempted to crawl over the console and take him.

At last the song ended and they moved apart, both slightly dazed. Allison regarded Pete shyly, a bit warily, not really believing the powerful emotions that had just surged between them. She’d known he was sexy, had suspected he’d be a great kisser. She hadn’t expected the intimacy to leave her feeling so shaken, so stripped of all her defenses. That scared her.

The next cut began with more verve and playfulness, yet still Allison remained jolted, her heart pounding in the silvery darkness.

“You okay?” he asked tenderly.

“Sure.” She managed a dry laugh. “You definitely woke me up, cowboy. Actually, it’s been a while since I’ve stopped off to neck with a boyfriend.”

“Am I your boyfriend, Allie?” he inquired softly.

She dared not answer, for at the moment he seemed so much more. They’d started out the evening as strangers, but now she felt as if she’d known him for ages.

He reached across the console to clutch her fingers. A massive groan shook him. “I never thought I’d curse a car with bucket seats. Wanna come straddle me, baby?”

“Here? Are you crazy?” Allison was as aroused as she was scandalized.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Hell, the back seat looks pretty inviting—and dark.”

“Not on your life!” Allison stated the words emphatically, though her voice quivered.

He chuckled. “Well, I can tell I’ve got a bit more taming to do.” He patted her hand, then turned to start the engine. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart. You’re gonna need all your energy once I get you home.”

Allison knew the conceited devil deserved another dressing down, but, damn it all, he was too charming and sexy for her own good. She gave herself over to the mood of playful sensuality. She lay back, relaxed, listened to the erotic music, and finally drifted off again…but this time, with drenching dreams of him.

“Nice digs you got here, sugar.”

An hour later, at Allison’s high-rise apartment overlooking Houston’s posh Magic Circle area, Pete stood across from her next to a sheer glass wall, admiring the sea of skyscrapers with their sparkling lights, and flaunting his gorgeous backside to her—the muscled shoulders and back, the tight butt, the long legs. At the bar in her adjacent kitchen, she restrained a moan. Everything about this man oozed virility; he filled a room with his energy. Memories of the incredible kiss they’d shared set her nipples to tingling and warmed her inside her belly.

Though she had dozed off again on the drive home, she was wide-awake now, riveted by the sight of Pete in her space, imagining him in her space. “Thanks,” she managed to say.

“You must rake in the dough with whatever you sell.”

“Pharmaceuticals.”

“Hah!” He wagged a long finger at her. “You bust my chops for being a lowly mechanic, when you’re a drug pusher, sugar.”

“Hey, watch the lip,” she scolded. “And I’m hardly a millionaire. This apartment may be well appointed, but it’s also small.” She gestured at her diminutive but elegant living room with its posh white carpet, matching couches and chic accessories. “Anyway, it’s worth it to me to live only five minutes away from my job—and this was especially true when I didn’t have a car I could depend on.”

His jaw came up in pride. “Now you do.”

“Right,” she acknowledged. “I’ll admit you know your stuff, cowboy. The engine didn’t act up the whole time we were out.”

“Sometimes, it just takes—”

“I know,” she interjected, too quickly. “Lube, snake oil and a little TLC.”

He stepped toward her, lowering his voice a notch. “I was about to say, it takes the right touch to tame a stubborn creature.”

Allison was not about to comment on Pete’s latest, loaded repartee. Turning to flip open the liquor cabinet, she muttered, “Want a nightcap before you go?”

He stepped closer. “Am I going, sugar? Are you as big a tease as I think you are?”

His voice was pure seduction, and Allison almost dropped the bottle of cognac she’d just retrieved. Turning to set it on the bar with unsteady fingers, she met his amused yet sexy gaze. “Let’s leave a little mystery to this, okay, cowboy?”

“Sure.” Appearing satisfied, he nodded toward the bottle. “As to your question, no, ma’am, it’s not hard liquor I’m craving. ’Sides, I don’t want you going all sleepy-eyed on me again.”

“I’m not the least bit tired,” she asserted.

He touched the tip of her nose. “You were snoring on the way home.”

“I was not,” she retorted. “Even if I was, it’s rude of you to point that out.”

“Don’t worry, I barely heard you.” He winked solemnly. “I don’t want you too drowsy, darlin’, but I must admit I wouldn’t mind putting your sharp little tongue to bed for a bit…. Or maybe there’s a better place I’d have you put it.”

Much as the decadent image aroused her, Allison saucily tilted her face. “Watch it, I can still throw you out.”

He uttered a disbelieving laugh. “Oh, you think you can take me, do you?”

“Sure.” With relish she looked him over. “You strike me as a pretty puny type. Think I’m bigger than you.”

“Oh, yeah?” he blustered, thunderclouds now in his eyes. “Then let’s hear it, sister—height and weight.” Before she could protest, he held up a hand, then gestured at her feet. “But first, take off those high-heeled dancing shoes.”

Glancing toward their feet, she harrumphed. “Well, if you aren’t full of it! You’re wearing boots yourself.”

“Okay, then, we’ll do this unshod.” He began pulling off his boots.

“Unshod? You are prehistoric!”

“Are you taking off those slippers or not?”

Allison made a strangled sound, mostly for his benefit. Normally she would never have allowed herself to be goaded this way, but tonight she found she was having too much fun to resist. She stepped out of her pumps and drew herself up to face Pete.

He straightened to face her.

That’s when she groaned. With both of them shoeless, she was definitely shorter than he. Nonetheless she faced him down with bravado.

“Okay, spill it out,” he goaded.

“Five-ten, one thirty-five,” she declared flippantly.

“Hah!” He advanced, confronting her eyeball-to-eyeball. “Six-one, one sixty-five. Still think you’re bigger than me?”

“Sure I do.”

Now he looked her over, thoroughly. “Well, when it comes to curves in the right places, you’ve got me beat, angel. But you’re still a fool if you think you can whip my butt.”

She balled her hands on her hips and faced him down. “In a heartbeat, I can. I work out.”

His superior expression dared her to continue. “And I ride. What do you want to bet that you can take me?”

That taunt proved irresistible. Allison lunged for him, only to find herself gripped by strong hands, hauled effortlessly up into the air, and thrown across a hard male shoulder. With quick strides Pete crossed the room, then she landed neatly beneath him on the soft couch in front of the glass wall. They lay locked body-to-body, sex to aching sex, regarding each other breathlessly.

“A kiss?” he inquired, grinning like the very devil.

Before Allison could respond, Pete kissed her again, brazenly, stabbing his tongue inside her mouth, exciting her beyond reason.

“Damn, you’re strong,” she muttered, kissing him back, boldly biting his underlip.

A fervent sigh rose from him. When his hands tugged at her tank, pulling it up over her head, she couldn’t protest. He stared at her generous, rounded breasts veiled in her white lace demi-bra. “Lady, I’m in heaven.”

Just the heat of his gaze further tightened her aching nipples. Then he leaned close, trailing his tongue over the contours of her bra, scalding her flesh. Allison was going insane. When his tongue and lips teased her breasts, his teeth playfully nipping her flesh, her nipples, through the sexy fabric of her bra, even the lace binding her seemed to sizzle.

All maidenly restraint left her. “Take off your shirt,” she ordered hoarsely.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Proudly he complied, all but ripping off his shirt, and she had to wince as she drank him in. He was positively gorgeous, his chest tan and lean, with a sprinkling of downy golden hair swirling downward to disappear beneath his belt buckle.

Appearing thrilled by her unabashed inspection, he unclasped her bra. Wetting a finger, he traced tormenting circles over her hyperaroused nipples, and she shuddered in ecstasy. Just when she thought he could take her no higher, he sucked her nipple into his mouth and bit down gently. A sound of raw abandon was torn from her. Grunting his satisfaction, he sucked and nipped at both breasts, while she panted and arched her back. Finally he caught her close, crushing her against his naked chest. His body felt fabulous, so warm and muscular against her own.

His hands slid boldly up her stockinged thighs, until he had hiked her skirt high above her waist. Allison writhed with flagrant suggestiveness.

Expression intense, Pete was staring down at her hips and legs clad in sheer lacy panties, sexy black garter belt and stockings. When he touched her bare inner thigh she arched against him wantonly. “You’re not taking off that garter belt, woman.” He touched her mound through her bikinis and she cried out softly. “I want to see all of that hot black lace as I drive into you.” He tugged at the wispy fabric of her crotch. “But it’ll be a damn shame to rip off these pretty panties.”