Lee: Devils on Horseback, Book 4 Read online

  © 2009 Niki Green

  A Wild Ride Story

  Willa Tate left Millbrook, Texas, years ago—along with her future, her fiancé and her heart. Now, as one of the headlining acts at a hot burlesque club, she looks into the crowd, sees a familiar face staring up at her—and her past comes crashing back.

  Chase Kiel has some hard questions for the former love of his life. He spent forever looking for her, and now he wants answers—even if he has to throw her over his shoulder and drag her back to Millbrook to get them.

  He’d find it a hell of a lot easier if the chemistry weren’t still there. If they didn’t still fit together like keg of dynamite and fuse. If he didn’t want not only his answers…but her heart.

  Chase is still certain he and Willa belong together—and convincing Willa of it will be his pleasure.

  Warning: This title contains explicit, powder-keg-hot sex, language that ain’t fit for your mama’s ears, and a hot cowboy with a Texas-sized heart.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for The Real Deal:

  The music began roaring its way through the speakers filling the club. Nick recognized the song. It was popular and played on nearly every radio station numerous times a day. He couldn’t remember most of the words but he knew the overall theme, someone had kissed a girl and she had seemed to like it, or so he thought. He couldn’t remember. All he could think about was the pressure his zipper was putting on his increasing erection. Never in his life was he so grateful for a table cloth.

  Hayden on the other hand didn’t seem to care if his arousal was evident to the rest of the patrons or not. There he sat an elbow’s length away laid back in the opposite chair, beer bottle lifted halfway to his mouth, eyes roving over the eye candy moving before the crowd. Nick shook his head at his captivated brother and returned his undivided attention to the stage and to the ones who occupied it.

  After the first few beats introduced the song a throaty, ultra feminine voice rang out the lyrics that propelled the dancers along. Each movement from the two was synchronized. What one did, the other mimicked.

  They moved with the beat of the music, at first only watching each other through the faux mirror in front of them. Black fishnet gloves traced an eyebrow and moved seductively to the sets of cherry-red lips. Material ran gracefully and without pause over the glistening pair. Their fingertips stroked the top first, then bottom and then back to the top before blowing a kiss to one another via the mirror.

  Without faltering, breaking their timing or rhythm, the pair removed the gloves slowly and let them fly into the crowd. With bare hands placed on the vanity top, the dancers rose and inched closer to each other, inspecting the reflection that should have been there. Closer and closer the pair drew to each other until only a breath separated them from each other.

  When the crescendo proclaimed that the chorus had arrived the two stepped away from the prop and twirled and stomped their way around the stage. Each and every step they took was determined and full of intent—the intent being to arouse and seduce every man at their feet.

  Little black pleated skirts barely reached the top of the thigh. Nick swallowed numerous times as he watched them both move closer and closer. Black garters ran the length of each leg, connecting the striped, sheer stockings under the skirt. Connected them to what, Nick wondered and then realized he didn’t care.

  His knowledge of lingerie ran as far as the occasional Victoria Secret catalog placed in their mailbox by mistake. Those were good months.

  Stiletto boots sheathed the long, trim legs that descended the stairs in time with the music. Those black patent encasements laced all the way to the knee looked both sexy and dangerous at the same time. An image of the dancer in nothing but the boots flashed before Nick’s eyes and he felt his cock jump beneath his zipper. If this was any clue as to how the rest of the night was going to continue, he was in for a few hours of heaven and hell, either one welcome.

  As the two made their way to their respective side of the stage, Nick was grateful they’d found an open seat near the stage. The long-legged, raven-haired goddess, with the fuck-me mouth, fuck-me eyes, fuck-me everything was right on top of them. Nick found that the garters connected underneath a pair of ruffled, red boy shorts that barely covered the firm little bottom peeking out from beneath the skirt.

  Nick watched her transfixed. She swayed, dipped and thrust to the beat as did the dancer behind her. He noticed that even though their backs were to each other the synchronization never ended.

  He held his breath as she ran her hands down the front of the tight bustier top, releasing each clasp one by one on her way back to the top. Holding the top together with both hands she teased to the right of Nick’s seat and then to the left only revealing a flash of caramel torso here and a hint of round breast there.

  In the next instant, both dancers crouched down balancing on the stiletto heels of their boots and exposed what the red camisole has concealed. Covering most of the breast and the entire nipple was a red pasty shaped like a pair of lips. And they were right in Nick Kiel’s face. He thought at that moment he could die a happy man. And in the next second wished he was a dead man. Then the realization came that he may in fact be a dead man come morning.

  “Holy shit!” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Even with the music blaring, the crowd’s screams and Hayden whistling, she heard him. Her midnight bob swiveled toward him and those eyes her bangs tried to hide met his. Her mouth gaped open, her hands pulled the sides of the bustier together and she repeated his sentiment, “Holy shit.”

  Her voice was low and strangled and jumped a little. She kept staring at him. Nick wished he could disappear, and from the look on her face she wished the same thing. He felt Hayden’s hands grasp his shoulders and shake him a bit. He couldn’t pay attention to his brother. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  His brother must have realized, finally, that he was the only one at the table for two who was still enjoying themselves. Out of the corner of his eye, Nick saw Hayden’s face sober a bit and then turn toward where his brother gazed.

  Never having much tact and lacking the filter that most people had between their brains and their mouths, Hayden’s exclamation was louder and higher pitched than either brother would have liked, “Holy fucking shit!”

  Nick saw the girl jerk her eyes from brother to brother. She paled more, if it was possible. She risked a quick peek back at Nick and then inch by inch rose from her crouched, exposed position on the stage to her full height. Nick would pay for his next thought soon enough, but all he could think about was her encased legs, that seemed miles and miles long, wrapped tightly around his waist, clenching her to him. Those dewy, painted lips, even though set firm and unsmiling now, held promises of deep kisses that would run the length of a man’s body over and over again. Yep, he was going to hell.

  Quickly and with style, she turned on the stiletto heel and made her way, with her partner, back to where the whole thing had started. The lights dimmed once more, a cheer resounded and yells for more filled the area.

  The only thing Nick heard was the sound of his own heartbeat and the rush of his blood from his jeans back to his head where it belonged. It took a minute. Hayden’s words finally busted their way through Nick’s frantic thoughts and he turned in his seat.

  “Tell me that was not who I think it was. Tell me this is all some fucked up nightmare and we both are going to wake up any minute. Tell me. Lie to me if you have to. I can take it.” Watching Hayden down the contents of the three beer bottles on the table made Nick’s throat drier than it already was. He swallowed a few times and then made the decision to tell his brother, “You’re right about one thing.”

  “What’s that?” Hayden asked as he wiped his arm across his mouth.

  “We’re in a fucking nightmare.”

  “No shit.” Hayden chuckled a bit but there was nothing funny about the situation. Nick knew that the wry laugh was Hayden’s way of showing that he was n
ervous, and he had good reason to be. “What are we gonna do now?”

  Nick shook his head. He didn’t know what to do. She’d seen them. They’d seen her. There was no changing that.

  “It was her, right? I mean,” Hayden pulled his seat closer to his brother’s and rested his arms on his thighs, whispering, as if anyone could hear him, “my brain didn’t just make that up, did it?”

  “No, that was her all right. Every last inch of her.” Shit, he thought. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

  “Well shit!” Hayden said, throwing his hands over his head in frustration and what looked like defeat.

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “Willa?” Hayden inquired.

  “Willa.” Nodding his head and studying the table top, Nick Kiel gave his brother the one conformation in the world he did not want.

  “Willa.” As her name passed his lips, Hayden let his head drop to the table with a resounding thud. Nick glanced at him and felt the need to do the same. Who knew? Who knew that a simple, harmless night of beer, half-naked women and good-natured fun could turn into hell on Earth? It was just their luck.

  Nick rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, rolled them back to his brother, who still had not lifted his head and then rolled them back into his head and closed his eyes.

  I should have stayed at home, Nick chanted silently to himself over and over again. But he hadn’t, and now he was screwed like nobody’s business.

  A cool man, a fiery woman, a love destined to ignite.

  Zeke

  © 2008 Beth Williamson

  Devils on Horseback, Book 3

  Intense, reserved and known for his strategic thinking, Zeke Blackwood has struggled to find his place in the post-war world. After the violent death of the first woman to capture his heart, Zeke retreats into a whisky bottle—until he’s handed the position of town sheriff.

  Zeke sobers up and tries his damnedest to be the best lawman he can be. He hadn’t counted on the tempting new saloon girl to jeopardize his cold, unhappy existence.

  Naomi Tucker is a survivor, a woman who made it through the war on her own wit and strength. She hoped moving to Tanger, Texas would bring her the peace and stability she yearns to find. Instead she runs head-on into a cool-eyed sheriff who welcomes her to his bed, only to push her away.

  The wildness of the West is far from tamed. It threatens the town’s efforts to rebuild, Zeke’s bond with the Devils—and his fragile relationship with Naomi. As Zeke’s hold on sobriety slips, he and Naomi must choose between settling for half a life apart, or embracing all they could be. Together.

  Warning: This title contains a stubborn hero, a heroine who does what she must to survive, laughter, tears and sweet, hot sex.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Zeke:

  Zeke sat on the edge of the bed and held his face in his hands. A dull throb in his head was joined by an ache in his ribs. Those boys had lit into him good. Normally he’d be able to hold his own against two men, but with the small space in the cell, he’d had no room to maneuver. Bastards.

  He was more angry than anything and fully intended on charging them with assault. A judge came into town every month, should be easy enough to request he come sooner.

  He stretched, wincing as a sharp pain gripped his back. With a groan, he lay on the bed and closed his eyes. Doc Barham had given him a little bottle of laudanum, but Zeke hated to take it since it made him lose control. With his behavior of late, losing control had become a problem. It certainly got him in trouble with the two drunks.

  When a small knock sounded at the door, Zeke clenched his jaw.

  “What?” he snapped, unwilling to talk to Lee about what happened.

  “Zeke?”

  Naomi’s quiet voice made him sit up too fast. He gasped against the rush of blood through his head. She must’ve heard him because she opened the door and peeked in.

  “Zeke?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.” Zeke didn’t want to admit to himself how glad he was to see her. The petite woman had gotten under his skin in the last two weeks, to the point her very presence actually made him feel better. Damn, he was supposed to be avoiding saloon women, not consorting with them every chance he got.

  “Can I come in?”

  She shouldn’t be alone with him in his bedroom though, no matter if she worked at the saloon or not. He was the sheriff and no doubt the old cronies on the town council would fire him if they knew. Zeke was well aware of all of it, yet it didn’t stop him from inviting her in.

  “Please.”

  Not only had he thrown caution under her little feet, but he’d said “please” too. Zeke knew then his plan to keep his distance from Naomi had failed miserably, and he started to shake. The urge to sling back a shot of whiskey roared through him.

  “I met Gideon and he told me what happened. I was, well, I was worried.” Her confession dropped into the silence of the room.

  Zeke, for the first time in his life, was overwhelmed by a woman. The sincerity of her tone and the fact she’d been worried about him made his throat close. Soft comfort and words from women hadn’t been prevalent in his life. His mother had been weak and dependent on his father, then him, for everything. Naomi had taken a lifetime’s worth of experience and reduced it to dust.

  She stepped into the room and closed the door, her rose scent washing over him. He clenched his teeth and swallowed, trying to dislodge the words stuck there.

  “Are you okay?”

  He sucked in a shaky breath and swung his legs around the side of the bed, then patted the spot next to him. His thirst, pain, embarrassment and discomfort forgotten, he could only see her. In the moonlight, she looked ethereal, like an angel come to visit him. It seemed the preacher had been right in his description of her.

  Naomi sat down gently, almost as if she was afraid, and peered at him in the dim light. “Zeke, I—”

  He put his hand against her lips, their softness making his fingers tremble. “You shouldn’t be here alone with me.”

  She smiled beneath his hand. “I want to be.”

  Zeke cupped her face and tried to read what lurked in the hazel depths of her eyes. All he saw were shadows and uncertainties, a common theme in his life the last five years. He knew he shouldn’t be with her, but for once he was going to do what his heart told him.

  God help him. He was listening to his heart.

  “You didn’t get hurt in the brawl, did you?” He tried to find a topic to keep his mind, and his body, from focusing on kissing her.

  “No, we hid behind the bar.” She smiled. “Thank you for coming to stop it again. You seem to be quite good at being a sheriff, for a new one, I mean.”

  He chuckled at her teasing. “I suppose. It ain’t hard, well I guess it is sometimes.” He pressed a hand to his aching ribs.

  “Are you all right? Gideon told me you were hurt.” She covered his hand with hers.

  “I’ll live.” He pulled her hand up and kissed the palm. Zeke felt a shiver snake through her at the touch of his lips.

  “I’m not sure what’s happening, Zeke.” She gazed at the palm of her hand. “Why did I come here?” she sounded as confused as he was.

  “Probably for the same reason I came to your bed.” Zeke’s body began to react to being closer to hers. It wasn’t just a sexual reaction, it was something else too. That something else was unidentifiable, and it scared him.

  Yet he didn’t ask her to leave.

  She nodded, her blonde hair sliding over the dress with a soft sound. “I’ve been fighting for survival for three years, and now it seems I have to fight for something else.”

  “What’s that?”

  She met his gaze. “My heart. You knocked me sideways, Sheriff, and I find myself liking it.”

  Zeke knew exactly what she meant. “I don’t want to be responsible for your heart, for anyone’s heart. The last year has brought me nothing but misery, and I can’t seem to get myself out of the hole I dug for myself. I don’t want to su
bject you to the same hell.” His voice had descended into a hoarse whisper full of emotion.

  She took his hand, her little fingers wrapping around his in comfort, bringing a lump to his throat.

  “I understand. Lucy told me about Allison. I’m so sorry.”

  The mention of Allison made his stomach clench. Once upon a time, she might have been his wife. Now she was just another ghost in his heart.

  “She’s gone, and I’m still here. Now you’re here too.” He squeezed her hand. “I just want to be sure you understand I ain’t looking for anything from you.”

  Zeke sensed she didn’t believe a word he said, yet she remained silent. He hadn’t wanted a woman getting under his skin, but it was too late for that.

  “Kiss me.” Her husky command sent a shiver down his skin.

  “Are you sure?” He knew she should leave, get away before their sexual relationship continued, but he couldn’t seem to let go of her hand.

  “Kiss me.” This time her voice was firmer, and he obeyed.

  He lowered his head and kissed her, capturing her breath into his mouth, inhaling her essence. It began slowly, but the heat between them flared to life.

  Their previous encounters had been fierce matings, full of passion and animal instinct. This time it was gentle—for the first time they were making love.

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