Dream Lover (Denim and Spurs Book 2) Read online

  Can this cowboy rope the woman who makes him realize there is more to life than just work?

  The morning Laciee Dupree wakes up in a stranger’s bed, she vows to never drink again. The cowboy who gave her such an amazing night turns out to be the perfect man with his impeccable manners, his amazing looks, and, let's not forget, his skills in the bedroom. If only he didn't live in Branchwater, Texas. The attraction between them is hard to ignore, but she grew up in Branchwater and had already left that hick town once—and has zero plans of moving back.

  Judd Travers is a dying breed of man, a true cowboy. A loner. He works his large ranch, never giving any thought to getting a wife and kids. At least not until he tangles with Miss Laciee Dupree. She's everything a man like him could want. Or need.

  Problem is, Laciee is trying to leave town faster than she blew in, so he's got his work cut out if he's going to convince her to allow him to become more than just her dream lover. During this time there are troubles on his ranch that also require his attention.

  Good thing cowboys are used to hard work…

  Dream Lover

  Denim & Spurs

  by

  Aliyah Burke

  MF, INTERRACIAL ROMANCE,

  WESTERN CONTEMPORARY

  Twisted E Publishing, LLC

  www.twistedepublishing.com

  A TWISTED E PUBLISHING BOOK

  Dream Lover

  A Denim & Spurs Book

  Copyright © 2015 by Aliyah Burke

  Edited by Marie Medina & Dawn G

  First E-book Publication: March 2015

  Cover design by K Designs

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2015, Twisted Erotica Publishing, LLC.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  Dedication

  To everyone who's been such a supporter of this series. Thank you. To DH, thanks for never letting me forget how you've always got my back. To my publisher, thank you for taking a chance on my books. As always, to the men and women who serve their country— Thank you and God Bless!

  Chapter One

  Laciee Dupree shifted in the tangled mess of bedding. Burrowing deeper, she fought to ignore the incessant pounding in her head. This, right here, was why she didn’t drink much. She’d never been one to hold her liquor well. And at this party it wasn’t like they were sipping on wine or nursing “fruity” drinks. Oh no, of course not. There they did whisky, bourbon, tequila, scotch... hell, she’d even had some of the local shine. Not something she’d be doing again anytime soon.

  I’ll say it makes for nice dreams though. Really nice dreams.

  She smiled and opened her eyes enough to be thrilled the room still remained shrouded in darkness. So, she closed them again, ready to sink back into oblivion and the amazing dream lover who’d been with her. All night long.

  Her sex throbbed and grew wet at the memories. His callused hands roaming all over her body. The licking, laving, and attention she’d never received from any of her real life experiences. Nipples tightened and she virtually purred like a cat while rubbing against the sheets.

  She reached out to grab more blankets and reinforce her cocoon only to pause when she encountered a wealth of hard-packed muscles. Sweet, still dreaming. He remained. And she planned on taking every advantage presented.

  Smiling, she widened the spread of her fingers and re-explored the contours of his physique. Every defined abdominal, the rock-hard pectorals, all of it, she was well acquainted with. There wasn’t an inch of this body she didn’t know. From the scruff on his face to the hair on his legs. She knew it all.

  His shaft twitched and hardened, and her smile did turn into a purr of pleasure this time. She never wanted to wake from this dream. Reaching down, she closed her fingers about his girth. Dear Lord, why couldn’t she find a man like this in real life?

  “Now this is a lovely way to wake up, darlin’.” A deep, masculine voice rumbled from above her head.

  She stiffened and shook her head. “Dream men don’t talk. They just pleasure.” Definitely going to have to stop drinking like she did last night.

  A decadent chuckle reached her. “I’m all for the pleasuring.” Large hands skimmed down her body, and she jumped up with a scream, lunging for the side of the bed. Her hangover slammed into her and she wove, unsteady on her feet. The ground rushed up toward her only to stop as a pair of strong arms closed around her, halting her.

  “Easy there, darlin’.”

  Her mind raced. Where am I and who the hell is he? In addition, why was she thinking about touching him all over again? The room was still dark, and she wanted to keep it that way. Easier to keep her shame that…hers alone, in the pitch blackness. Both of his hands moved in a soothing motion along the bared expanse of her back. They were the hands of a man who made his living working hard. They weren’t soft but callused and rough.

  Her locale hit her and she bit back a whimper. Branchwater, Texas. This couldn’t be good. Not at all.

  His scent and touch were so familiar. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a dream. Moreover, she needed to get away from here—since it wasn’t even her room—and him, as quick as humanly possible. She shoved against him and he released her without so much of an argument.

  She’d just managed to stumble back to the bed and yank a covering over her when unwelcome light splintered the dark. Pain slashed through her skull and she swallowed back the urge to vomit. With a deep breath, she looked up only to promptly lose her air again.

  Good Lord!

  She didn’t know they made men like that anymore. She sure as hell hadn’t seen any, not in a long time. Even though she knew the body across from her—naked as the day he was born—it still took her breath away. His hair, so black it virtually seemed to swallow the light. Harsh masculine angles made up his face. The scruff which lingered there, well, she knew how it felt against her. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t retrieve a name. Tanned skin covered his entire, hard, well-defined, muscular body.

  Lust rocketed through her again and she steadfastly kept her eyes on his dark brown ones. “Can’t you put some clothing on or something?” She waved a hand in his direction, desperate not to veer her attention to anywhere else upon him. Where are my clothes?

  “You’re a jumpy little filly, aren’t ya?”

  She narrowed her eyes and rose, clutching the sheet tight. “I’m neither a filly nor a darlin’.”

  “Didn’t mind so much last night being called those names. Seemed to respond right nicely to them. You know, when you were up against the wall, bent over the bed, or wherever.” Those eyes twinkled with male appreciation and amusement.

  The sex-infused smile he sent pretty much derailed her thoughts. Ignoring her body’s response to the smile and comments, she clenched her jaw and looked around through gritty eyes for her clothing.

  “Forget last night. This is why I don’t come to places like this.” I have to get out of here and back to my room. Like immediately.

  “Like this?”

  She glanced at him and found he’d pulled on a pair of jeans but hadn’t buttoned them. Her gaze lingered at the small patch of visible skin right above the zipper. Oh how she longed to lower that offensive metal and start all over again. More heat flashed through her, pushing the thoughts of her hangover further from her mind.

  “Small town.”

  “Didn’t you grow up here?”

&nbs
p; Like she needed that reminder. “Grew up and left. Left!” She paused, now focused completely on him and not how she’d been feeling. “How’d you know I grew up here? You know what? Never mind. Don’t care.” She shook her head and waved off his comment.

  “Easy, darlin’, no need to get worked up.”

  He gave one more lazy perusal of her sheet-covered body before he left the room. Moving with purpose, she dropped to the floor, peeked under the chairs then the bed before finding most of her clothes. Her panties were missing. Where the hell could they have gone? All she wanted was to get all her clothing on, leave unseen by anyone she knew, and nurse her hangover in private before the wedding. Can my day get any worse?

  “Laciee?”

  Crap. Crap. Crap! Apparently, her day could get worse. With as much dignity as she could manage being on the floor clad in naught but a sheet, she looked over her shoulder to find her friend, Karis Raines, standing there. She’d not even heard the knock on the door. Apparently tall, dark, and handsome had, for he stood beside Karis. Damn. Laciee had nothing to say. What could she say?

  “You and Judd? I don’t believe this.” Karis laughed, eyes sparkling.

  Judd. Why did that name sound so familiar to her? She knew it, if her pounding head would just focus and let her know. It hit her. Judd Travers, the best man who hadn’t made it to the rehearsal dinner. Apparently, he had shown up later. On the other hand, she now knew at least the first name of her dream lover. I’m never drinking again.

  “Shut up, Karis,” she groused. “Do you think y’all could leave so I could dress?”

  Karis laughed and held up her hands as she backed out of the bedroom. Her mystery man, Judd to be precise, leaned against the wall and hooked his legs. With one hand, he reached out and slammed the door shut. Would have been wonderful except for the minor detail of the fact he closed himself in there with her.

  Her head’s throbbing increased one hundred fold. “You’re still here, why?”

  If her attitude put him off, it didn’t show. “Figured you’d want some help getting that hot little scrap of material of yours down from the light.”

  Still crouched on the floor, she glanced up and groaned with yet another wave of humiliation. Hanging over the rim of the lights cover was her pale iris lacy V-string panty. How’d that get up there? She hadn’t a clue and didn’t really want to know. From the corner of the dresser, she spied her demi bra in matching color.

  He pushed from the wall and grabbed her bra. “If you don’t want my help, I’ll go.”

  “No, no. I can’t reach that.”

  She gazed at him as he made his way to the middle of the bed she currently knelt beside. Lord, he was just too much for her to handle. How did one man manage to look so good? It had been one thing, having all of that in her dream but right now, she needed to get far away from temptation and find a way to put herself back together.

  He jumped off the bed, landing right before her. Crouched as she was, his crotch was right before her hungry gaze. Long and thick, it wasn’t difficult to see his arousal. So close, it wouldn’t take much to just lean forward a bit and take the zipper tab in her teeth and…

  Slamming the door on those thoughts, she shoved to her feet and snatched her article of clothing from him. “Thank you.” Without demanding he leave, she whirled around, made her way into the bathroom, and closed him out. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit!”

  Laciee stared at her reflection and dropped the sheet. There were spots on her skin which bore the traces of whisker burn. She closed her eyes as she dressed as fast as her protesting head and belly would allow. Pausing to splash water on her face, she took several deep breaths before opening the door again, the sheet balled up under one arm.

  The bedroom door remained shut, and she tossed the sheet to the bed and made a beeline for the escape. No man stopped her and she found out why. He was out in the other room with Karis. Her friend’s gaze was one thing but it didn’t stop her breath like the dark brown one from Judd. His stare burned her and made her wonder if she had truly put on clothes or if it had just been her imagination.

  * * * *

  Judd Travers watched Laciee Dupree as she gauged the distance from where she currently stood to the door. He knew the look. Scared filly. What a filly. Hell, he’d not had his world rocked so intensely ever before in his life.

  He’d arrived well after the rehearsal dinner for his best friend, Wyatt Hale, to the new arrival to his room, Karis Raines. However, he’d not arrived too late to bump into the intoxicating beauty who was dancing on a table as he entered Denim & Spurs. She’d fallen right into his arms. That was all it had taken for him to be enchanted.

  The deal had been sealed when she’d slipped her arms around his neck and pressed all her luscious curves against him, as her lips sought his. He’d known who she was, Laciee Dupree. She’d told him repeatedly. Normally he wouldn’t take advantage of a woman in her condition but from the very beginning, she’d snared him with…everything. She smelled of cranberries with a hint of vanilla and never before had a scent wrapped around his cock and pulled him along for the ride. No woman had wiped away any trace of control in such a short time.

  And once they got to his room, off the chart passion churned between them. His lips quirked up as he recalled her undressing for him, panties going up over the light in the bedroom, her bra on the dresser corner. She was uninhibited and raw pleasure.

  Now, in the daylight, he took the opportunity as she whispered furiously with Karis, to look over her one more time. Her shoulder length hair hung around her in soft waves, dyed a coppery red. It fit her well. Her dark skin, he well knew to be perfectly smooth and silken. His jeans tightened as he recalled how it had been kissing along her curves. Laciee was a good head shorter than his six-four frame. Didn’t matter, she fit against him right nicely.

  He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose while he recalled how it had been having her on her knees before him, those full lips of hers parted as she welcomed his cock in her mouth. She had talent that he…shouldn’t be thinking about right now.

  A light, tinkling laugh brought his eyes back open. Karis stood there alone, not even bothering to hide her amusement. Laciee had vanished. Karis wore her blonde hair piled up on her head and even in sweats and a ratty t-shirt, he could see her beauty. Karis was a woman who turned heads wherever she went. And later today she would be tying the knot with one of the few men he called friend. Wyatt Hale.

  “Not funny, Karis.” He furrowed his brow.

  “Says you.” She grinned, showcasing her perfect smile. “Where I’m sitting, or rather standing, I’m finding it hilarious.”

  He scowled at her until she lost the smirk and cleared her throat.

  “What brought you to my room?”

  “One of the other bridesmaids saw you walking Laciee out of Denim & Spurs. Since I’d already checked her room, I was coming here to see where you’d dropped her off.”

  “Dropped her off? Other than her room?” Or his?

  “I’m surprised she was even here for the rehearsal dinner. Laciee wants out of this town so fast it’s burning her.”

  He scratched at his bare chest. “Why?”

  Karis made her way to a chair and sat, with all the regalness of a queen. He waited impatiently as she studied the French manicure on her nails. Here was a woman who should, by all facets, be preparing for her biggest day and she sat in his room, cool as a cucumber, one leg swinging back and forth over the arm of the chair.

  “You know she grew up here.”

  “I’d heard something about it, yes.”

  Blue eyes pinned him. “Why do you care?”

  “Color me intrigued,” he said after a brief hesitation. Her grunt told him she didn’t totally believe that. “What’s so wrong with Branchwater?”

  “She had a hard time here growing up. I was actually surprised she agreed to come to my wedding at all, much less be in it. It took a lot of begging on my part.”

  He th
ought about her wedding party. Laciee definitely stood out from the other women who’d be standing up with her. Four other blondes and Laciee with her coppery red hair. More questions rolled through him, and he bit them back. Why was he so concerned with her business? Just because the sex between them had been off-the-charts explosive wasn’t any reason. Was it?

  Karis swung her leg down and stood before making her way to his side. “Be good to her, Judd.”

  That said, she spun and walked to the door before vanishing behind it. Be good to her. Blowing out a frustrated and confused breath, he went for a shower. Hopefully it would wake him a bit more and let him forget the fiery vixen he’d had in his bed the previous night.

  It may have been a good idea but it didn’t work worth a damn. His hot shower turned icy in a flash as he tried to ignore the need to stroke his hard length and find some more relief. She’d created an insatiable need within him for her. One night wasn’t nearly enough. Hands braced against the smooth tile of the shower, he dropped his head and allowed the cold sting to bore into his skin. He hissed in discomfort but refused to move.

  Christ, even in this situation all he could think about was the heat between himself and Laciee. He would be the first to admit he was a loner. He was a cowboy from the soles of his boots up to the black Stetson he wore on his head. He worked long hours, had manners, and didn’t care about the crap on television. Hell, he barely turned his on. He didn’t have the time. He had a ranch to run.

  Occasionally he’d make his way into a larger town, never Branchwater, to find some sexual relief, but he just didn’t need a woman hanging around him. He was content with his life how it was. Or he had been until that vixen fell off the table and into his arms. Love at first sight? First touch? He didn’t know about love but the lust was definitely there.

  For all intents and purposes, he shouldn’t be aroused standing beneath a stream of frigid water yet he was. And it was all due in thanks to the thoughts of one Laciee Dupree. A woman who intrigued him like none other.