Strokes Vol #3 Read Online Free

go,” I said softly, trying hard to keep the disappointment from tightening my voice. I really liked this cowboy. Too bad this was only a one-night stand.
    He sat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand over my shoulder down to the curve of my waist. His gaze followed. Probably filling in his mental picture of what he hadn’t been able to see in the dark.
    I let him look his fill and didn’t feel the least bit embarrassed doing the same. Lord, the man was built. Thickly muscled arms and shoulders, ridged abdomen, lightly furred.
    My gaze slipped to his waning erection, still clothed in a condom.
    “Carly, I know you wanted this to be something…fun,” he said softly.
    I knew what he was really trying to say. I didn’t want to say goodbye either. Something about him—maybe the care he’d taken with my body—made me feel things I couldn’t express. But I didn’t want to spend the rest of the night in his arms and hear half-hearted promises come morning.
    “Cowboy,” I said, my flat tone a reminder of the rules, ignoring the way his expression slowly shuttered although it caused me a twinge of pain. “Storm’s over.”
    He drew in a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right.” His lips curved in a rueful smile. “Guess I should get rid of this,” he said with a quick glance at his cock.
    I stifled a sigh of regret and stayed silent as I watched him stride to the bathroom and quietly close the door. The sound of the shower starting up pulled me into action.
    I rolled from the bed, opened the top drawer of the bedside table, and pulled out a small notepad and the motel’s pen. I quickly scribbled Carly and my real last name, plus my cell phone number on the top sheet, then searched the ground for his jeans and slipped the note into the front pocket.
    Maybe he’d turn out his pockets before he washed them. Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d read the note, smile and crumple it before throwing it out.
    I really didn’t want to know. If he didn’t call, I’d prefer to think he never saw it and that maybe he carried a little regret with him when he thought about me and our tryst.
    As for me, I knew watching a storm roll in would always remind me of my wild night ride with the rodeo champion.
    I dressed quickly, let myself out of the room, and dug into my pocket for my keys. In minutes, I was pulling out of the parking lot, watching the motel’s lights grow fainter in the rearview mirror as I headed west, toward home. Regret weighed down my chest.
    My cell phone buzzed on vibrate on the seat next to me, and I quelled the leap of hope that quickened my heartbeat until I saw CALLER UNKNOWN on the lit screen.
    With my heart beating wildly, I smiled and tucked the phone between my shoulder and my ear. “Hi there, Cowboy. Miss me?”
    *
    A week later, I stroked “Waitress Red” onto my toenails, and then set my feet up on the porch rail to admire them while the polish dried. I’d had the cabin to myself all weekend, but that was about to change.
    My parents were in Dallas, my brothers back at the ranch. No one had a clue I’d invited company to join me. A good thing, since the last thing I wanted was my brothers showing up with shotguns to give Dalton a proper pre-date warning. I’d groaned and cried through that humiliation too many times. Was it any wonder I took my pleasure when and where I could find it? And if they knew who he really was…?
    An engine growled and tires kicked up white-flour dust in the distance. Cowboy’s Ford was taking the goat-trail road to the cabin with ease. He pulled it to a halt in front of the porch, opened his door and stood on the running board, tipping back his hat to give me a lazy once-over that left my skin tingling head to fire-engine red toes.
    “Might have told me you were a Mallory…”
    I grinned. Unrepentant. McCabes and Mallorys had been chewing over the same tracts of land since Texas had achieved statehood. The fact we’d never met before that day in the diner was