Dare to be Dirty (The Dirty Girls Book Club #2)

by Savanna Fox

  Leaving the scarf draped around his neck, she slipped out of her bra, then rubbed her breasts against his firm naked body, her nipples tightening and pulses of arousal sliding through her. The fabric of his pants was so thin and fine compared to his usual jeans, straining over the thick jut of his erection, and she wriggled against it to tease both of them.

  Then she reached for the waistband. This time, he didn’t take over; he let her undo the button and slide down the zipper. She brushed the backs of her fingers against him, through the soft cotton of his boxer briefs. “You’re wearing underwear.”

  “You can take it off.”

  “I intend to.” She paused deliberately. “I’m not wearing any.”

  His cock jerked against her hand. “What?”

  “I’m naked under my skirt.” She was swollen and damp too, from wanting him, which he’d soon find out for himself.

  Leaving his underwear on, she slid his pants down his long, strong legs until he stepped out of them, then she brushed her bare leg against his as they swayed in place.

  He kissed her again, lips and tongue demanding now.

  Her need jacked up a notch and she answered his kiss hungrily, pressing against him. The puffy layers of her skirt were a barrier, but she’d leave it to Ty to take that skirt off.

  They’d stopped even pretending to dance.

  His hand traced the line of her naked back to her waist in a sensual caress that made her skin tingle. He struggled with the layers of fluffy fabric until he found bare flesh. She was small enough and his hand large enough that he could cup her naked butt in his palm. One of his big fingers followed the crease between her cheeks, tracking it between her legs. Now he knew how hot and wet she was for him.

  She moaned at the delicious pressure. Unable to wait any longer, she stripped off his underwear. Her hand clasped his firm shaft, so hot it almost burned her fingers.

  This time, they both moaned.

  She knelt, then touched her tongue to the head of his cock, licking the drop of arousal, tasting the salty musk of Ty. She swirled her tongue around him, then widened her mouth and took him in, licking and sucking, swallowing him as deep as she could. He was so big, she could barely take half his shaft. Sucking it, she pumped the base with her hand.

  “Shit, that’s good, Kim.” He widened his stance, swaying a little. His fingers sifted through the short spikes of her hair, but other than that he kept still, giving her control. Through his heated skin, her lips felt the thick pulse of his blood. She thrummed the vein with her tongue.

  His fingers tightened against her scalp, then both hands gripped her head, stopping her. “Whoa now.”

  She released his shaft, slackened the pressure of her mouth. When his hands eased their grip, she sat back on her heels and gazed up to his face.

  He bent, pulled her to her feet, then lifted her and carried her to her futon bed, where he placed her down.

  She reached for the button of her skirt, but he said, “No. Leave it on.”

  “Bossy.” It wasn’t really a complaint. Her voice trembled with need and curiosity.

  “Tease.” He flipped up her skirt and buried his face between her legs.

  How odd, not being able to see him for the fluffy barrier of fabric. But she felt him. Oh, did she feel him. He licked her as if he was trying to lap up all the dew of her arousal, but each swipe of his tongue brought fresh moisture.

  With two gentle fingers, he teased her sensitive folds, then opened her and explored. He pumped in and out, circled inside, pressed a sweet spot that made her whimper with almost unbearable pleasure. As pressure built inside her, she squirmed and twisted against his face, seeking those final touches to take her over the top.

  Finally, he turned his attention to her clit, teasing it with a tiny lick, a breath-catching pause, then another lick. When she couldn’t take any more, he caught it between his lips and sucked.

  She arched and cried out as a sweet, intense climax ripped through her.

  Ty held her until the spasms died away and her muscles loosened.

  She managed to reach toward her bedside table, because this time she was prepared. “Put this on. I want to feel you inside me.”

  He rose from behind the barrier of her skirt. “There you are.”

  “Me and a condom.”

  “What more could a guy want?” He reached for the little package.

  She held it back. “Take my skirt off first.” She didn’t want anything between them.

  He fumbled with the fastenings, and she lifted her lower body so he could slide off the multilayered garment.

  Then she handed him the condom and watched while he put it on. In the candlelight, his skin, sheened with a gloss of sweat, gleamed. Was this really her, Kim, in bed with a man who had such an incredible body?

  When he kneeled between her spread legs, she eagerly lifted her lower body to meet him.

  He caught her hips, steadying her, then his cock nudged her, caressed her slick, sensitive folds, and slipped inside.

  She sucked in a breath. It was always a tiny shock when Ty entered her, until her body loosened and adjusted to his size. And, once it did, the sensations were pure pleasure. She lifted one leg up his body, hooking her heel over his shoulder, then did the same with the other leg, so she could take him even deeper.

  Thrusting into her, he leaned forward slightly, resting more weight against her legs. “Stop me if it hurts,” he panted, “but damn, this feels good.”

  She had a feeling that nothing they did together could hurt, at least in no more than a purely erotic border-of-pain-and-pleasure way. Right now, it was all deliciously sensual, bringing every recently satisfied cell to arousal again. “Feels good for me too. Lean down more, come into me deeper.”

  He bent forward slowly and cautiously, placing one hand on either side of her shoulders. Synching her movements to his, she rolled up on her back and lifted her whole lower body, putting her hands on her hips for support and spreading her legs in a vee.

  “God, you’re flexible. That’s so sexy.”

  It was. She felt flexible, strong, and yes, very sexy. “All that yoga,” she said breathlessly, holding her body steady to meet his thrusts. He looked so amazing, the muscles in his chest and shoulders flexing, his slick cock sliding in and out of her body.

  “Only problem is, I can’t kiss you.”

  “But you can make me come.” She was on the verge as he stroked deep into her core.

  Smart man, he’d figured out that her clit was the most sensitive part of her body, and he used that knowledge well. He pressed his thumb gently against it, then tapped it as his strokes grew faster and faster. It was a race to the finish line, and they crossed it together, her cry and his groan mingling in the air.

  As the tension in their bodies released, he eased backward, lifting his weight off her legs. “Man, Kim, are you okay?”

  She lowered her legs to the bed and stretched, relaxing pressure in her lower back while she basked in the afterglow of awesome sex. “Blissed out. Honest, I’m stronger than I look.”

  Ty lay down on his side facing her, and she curled toward him. He touched her cheek gently and brushed damp tendrils of hair off her face. His eyes were tawny gold in the candlelight, and looked as gentle and caring as his touch.

  This, she thought. I want this.

  Why couldn’t she have Ty, long term? Life could be so unfair.

  No, she quickly corrected herself. Life was great, for letting her meet this man and have this time together. She’d known all along that they had no future. This was her rumspringa, a time for fun, experimenting, and learning. She was learning what she wanted. A nice, smart, handsome, responsible, loyal Hong Kong man who made love to her with passion and gazed at her like she was the most special woman in the world. Who kissed her the way Ty was kissing her now, like he was cherishing her mouth.

  “Do you want to stay?” she murmured. “You’re tired. You shouldn’t drive.”

  He heaved a sigh. “I
’d love to, but you really don’t want me climbing out of bed at four.”

  She couldn’t suppress a grimace.

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I know. I’ll be okay driving. Used to drive all night when I did full-time rodeo.”

  It would be lovely to nestle into the curve of his body as she fell asleep, and wake in the morning to find him there. But maybe not at four.

  “You’re coming out for the weekend?” he asked.

  How could she resist? But still, she teased, “Will I have to get up at four on Sunday?” Last weekend, she hadn’t noticed the time when he woke her to make love, but the sun had definitely been up when they ate blackberry pie for breakfast.

  “I’ll make a special exception for you. I may even stay in bed myself, if you give me a good reason to.”

  “I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

  “I’m sure you will. Now I’d better head off.” He clambered to his feet, yawning.

  She watched as he collected his clothes and dressed.

  “Want me to close the door/window thing?” he asked. “And blow out the candles, so you don’t have to get up?”

  “That would be great.” She stretched, luxuriating in the twinges of well-used muscles.

  The window-wall creaked down. “See you Saturday, Kim.”

  “Night, Ty.”

  He puffed out the candles and she was left in darkness. The apartment door closed.

  Kim grabbed his pillow and curled onto her side, hugging it. Wishing it was him. Which was dumb. Cowboy Ty was all wrong for her in so many ways—critical ways—yet in so many others he was perfect. Like, as a lover. Would she find another man who was as hot in bed?

  She thrust the pillow away. Sure, she would. With him, she’d become a much better lover herself, more confident and willing to try things. He’d awakened her inner dirty girl. There was no reason that, with a future lover, her sex life—or her love life—had to be ho-hum.

  * * *

  As Kim headed out to Ronan Ranch Saturday morning, she found the drive almost relaxing. The last couple of days had been so busy, working on both the business plan and the assignments she needed to finish up for her program at Emily Carr. She hadn’t even had a chance to read Ride Her, Cowboy, though she’d answered a text from Marielle, asking whether Ty kept his hat on when they had sex. Kim’s reply? No, I wear it!

  She’d turned down dinner with Henry, and felt bad about that. But she didn’t want to tell him about UmbrellaWings for fear he would scoff and, though they’d broken up months ago, telling him about Ty would be too weird. He might be hurt, and he definitely wouldn’t be supportive like her friends in book club.

  Her mom had e-mailed with the date of Peter’s wedding—six months down the road—and said she hoped it wouldn’t be long before Kim and Henry would have an announcement of their own. Kim shook her head. So much would have changed in six months. Her parents would know about her and Henry and, who knows, she might even be engaged to someone else by then. At the moment, that was hard to imagine, but once she was back in Hong Kong, life would be different. Rumspringa would be over; it would be time to get serious.

  If things went the way she hoped, Kim would have proved to her family that she wasn’t a flaky artist, she was a businesslike one. She’d be starting UmbrellaWings, surely she would. The alternative, drudging away at Chang Property Management, was unthinkable.

  She hadn’t told her parents that she was working on a business plan. They’d raise a million objections, which might undermine her confidence. Best to present them with a finished proposal that would wow them. She hadn’t told them about Henry. She certainly hadn’t told them about Ty, or that she was releasing her inner dirty girl. So many secrets.

  She’d always kept a few secrets from her demanding, judgmental parents, but they’d been tiny ones. Being all the way across the ocean, living independently, had turned her into . . . what? A liar? Or an adult who lived her own life and made her own decisions?

  In not much more than a month, she’d be living with her parents again. What woman would she be then? Well, she’d find out, wouldn’t she? For now, she was Kim in Vancouver, Kim enjoying rumspringa, Kim pulling her cute co-op car to a stop and getting out to unlatch the gate to Ronan Ranch. Ten o’clock. Right on time.

  Last weekend, Ty had rearranged his busy schedule for her. This time she’d told him not to let her interfere. With her art supplies, she was self-sufficient.

  She drove through the gate, latched it behind her, and carried on up the road. At the ranch headquarters, there were a couple of people in the yard. Ty’s mom would get a report that Kim was here again. She ran her tongue over her lips. Pie would be good. As for making nice with a protective mom—well, a girl did what a girl had to do.

  When she climbed out of her car at Ty’s, he came out of the barn to meet her. In town, he’d looked sleek and virile dressed all in black. Here, in his element, his virility was a different sort, outdoorsy and rougher around the edges. This was the man who could ride a bucking bronc without even a saddle, who could deftly toss a calf without hurting it.

  She still had trouble believing she knew a man like this, much less was his sex partner. “Hey, you,” she said, smiling up at him.

  “Hey, you.” He smiled back, then bent to kiss her.

  She came up on her toes, the kiss deepened, and she pressed her body against his, feeling his immediate response.

  A cell phone rang, breaking the mood.

  Ty stepped back. “Sorry, I’ve been waiting for a callback.” He pulled a cell from his pocket, glanced at the display, then answered. “Hey, TJ, how’s it going?”

  Kim raised her face to enjoy the morning sun and breathed in air scented with hay, sawdust, and yes, a touch of horse manure.

  From Ty’s side of the conversation, she could tell he was good buddies with this guy TJ, who seemed to have a family ranch too, and also work at a resort ranch.

  “Like I said in voice mail,” Ty said, “the bay gelding, Rambler, is almost ready. I got another rescue horse this week, pretty Paint mare called Distant Drummer. She’s in rough shape, but there’s lots of potential. Think the Crazy Horse would be interested in her?”

  He listened, then said, “Yeah, people do like colored horses. She’s a tobiano, chestnut and white, nice markings. Okay, I’ll earmark Drummer for you. As for Rambler, I’m going to the rodeo in the Chilcotin a couple weeks from now. I’ll be taking Desert Sand, so I can bring a two-horse trailer and drop Rambler off at your place on the way.”

  Another pause, then he laughed. “Tell Robin I’m looking forward to seeing her too. She’s a sweetheart.”

  Kim’s brows rose. Hmm. Was this Robin a candidate for ranch wife? And what business was it of hers? When Ty hung up, she carefully didn’t ask about Robin. Instead, she said, “You’re training horses for a resort ranch?”

  “Yes. The Crazy Horse in the Cariboo. Know where that is?”

  “Vaguely.”

  “Nice country, lots of ranches. Anyhow, this woman I know, TJ, has—”

  “TJ’s a woman?” She shouldn’t have asked, but the words burst out.

  “Uh-huh. Her family has a cattle ranch, but she’s a horse person like me. She works as wrangler at the Crazy Horse and takes some of the rescue horses I train. I get them healed and if their personalities are right, I send them to her and she trains them for trail rides with dudes.”

  “Sounds like your perfect woman.” She tried to keep the snark out of her voice. “And who’s Robin?”

  Twenty-two

  Ty grinned. “Yeah, TJ’s pretty much perfect. So’s her daughter. Robin’s nine or ten.”

  “Oh, TJ’s married?”

  “Divorced.” Another grin. “She and I get along, but more like sister and brother.”

  There was absolutely no reason to be glad. “I wasn’t jealous or anything.”

  His lips twitched. “I know.”

  “We’re not a couple. Not really. I want you to find the right woman.” H
er own lips curved. “Okay, I confess, I’d be happy if that didn’t happen until I’d gone back home. I like being with you.”

  He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Me too.”

  “Now do I get a proper kiss hello?”

  He gave her one that curled her pink-painted toes inside her multicolored sandals, and she smiled with satisfaction. No, Ty didn’t think of her as a sister.

  “What’s on the agenda?” she asked. “I brought art supplies so I can look after myself.”

  “This must seem strange to you. Me working a seven-day week.”

  “No. My parents usually do. And I’ve always kept busy. School, homework, working for my folks, doing art. I like to read, but I’m not a do-nothing person. You don’t have to entertain me.” She smirked. “Except in bed, later. Or out of bed, like in the Jacuzzi.”

  “That can be arranged.” He looped his arm over her shoulders and tucked her against his side. “I’ve done a bunch of the regular chores. I need to practice with Sand, and I’m itching to start with Drummer, my new rescue horse. You and I could go for a ride later in the afternoon when it’s cooled off a bit.” He eyed her olive capris. “You brought jeans?”

  “Sure. But capris are more comfy when it’s hot like this.”

  “Look good too. Oh, Mom invited us for a meal, but we don’t have to go.”

  So he’d told his parents she was coming. “Which meal?”

  “Any meal. She figures if she words it that way, it’s harder to refuse. But we still can.”

  “She thinks I’m going to lead her son astray. Didn’t she get that I’m going back to Hong Kong?”

  “Or maybe she just wants to get to know one of my friends.”

  She shot him a cynical glance. “You believe that?”

  “Not for a moment. Well, she does, but there’s a lot more going on. So, you want to say a polite ‘no, thanks’?”

  She twisted her lips, thinking. Parents deserved respect. Besides . . . “Will there be pie?”

  He laughed. “If not, there’ll be fruit cobbler or chocolate cake. Mom has a sweet tooth.”