by Amie Stuart
I lifted my arms and waited patiently for him to tug the turtleneck over my head. He ordered me to turn around and unbuttoned my jeans, pushing them off my hips as his lips skimmed my shoulders and neck. A shiver worked its way down my spine at the rough caress of his stubbly chin on my bare skin. He’d forgotten to shave and I’ll admit, I liked it. I stepped out of my jeans and turned, leading him toward the bed.
Beneath the covers, I hissed at him to hurry as he shed the last of his own clothes. He stood in front of me, naked and extremely proud of himself as I reached for him, clamoring to my knees and taking him in my mouth. I smiled to myself as he hissed his own pleasure. I loved the hard, silky feel of him against my tongue, but he wasn’t in the mood to play and pushed me back. Stretched out alongside me, he touched me, his fingers skimming every inch of bare skin. His eyes never left mine as he caught a nipple in his mouth.
"I want you, Alex."
He scooted up and leaned over me, whispering against my lips, "I want you, too."
"Now?"
He spread my thighs, and the cool air tickled my feverish skin. I felt one finger gently slide in and stroke me. "Alex?"
"What do you want?" His voice was rough and angry while his hands were surprisingly gentle, his lips inches from mine. "You, everything, Alex. Alex. You’re going make me beg, aren’t you?" I felt his finger leave me.
"After three damn weeks, you bet."
He went down on me, his strong hands pinning me in place as his tongue lapped at me, teasing and nipping at my clit. My thighs shook as I struggled to ride his tongue, but I knew if I moved too much he’d stop and tease me more with his fingers. He loved torturing me and as much as I might complain, I loved it too.
My fingers itched to grab handfuls of his hair and push him deeper, but I knew better. He’d just prolong the torture. Instead, I grabbed the headboard and bit my lip, but I couldn’t stop the long low growl that escaped as he pushed me higher, his tongue deep inside me, stroking me. My hands came down hard, squeezing his wrists as he eased up, teasing me with only the tip of his tongue.
"Keilana," he whispered against my skin, his lips only a breath away from my clitoris.
"What?" I gasped. I ached. I wanted him inside me so bad. I wanted him to fill me. I watched him as our eyes locked.
"Do you want to come, Keilana?" His kisses were soft and gentle and made to tease.
"Please?"
"Please?" He bit down gently, an insistent reminder of who was in charge even as he released my legs. Holding still was impossible. I lost the battle, and pushed myself against his mouth. He pulled back and nipped the inside of my thigh. I squeezed my eyes shut and moaned my frustration only to have it turn to surprise as he quickly repositioned himself and entered me with one hard, deep thrust. My eyes flew open, and I smiled, gasping and sighing. "Is that what you wanted, Kei?"
I nodded and waited for him to move. God, he’d kill me before this was over. "Oh, yes." I held out my arms. "Hold me, Alex."
He settled on top of me, and I wrapped my arms around him. He’d give a little and usually take a lot back in return. In some ways it was just another challenge to him.
His strokes were long and sure, and he filled me with each thrust, covering me and wrapping his arms around me. Our eyes locked as his hands found mine, and our fingers wound together. He kissed me, and I actually felt his control snap as his grip on my hands tightened. He thrust faster and harder, ripping his mouth from mine and moaned long and low, his eyes squeezed shut.
"Come, Alex," I whispered, pulling him to me, my fingers buried in his hair. "Now," I ground out, my fingers tightening in his hair. "I want to feel you come."
"But, Kei—"
"Come."
Every inch of him stiffened, and I caught his eye again and then his lips as he gave me a mouth-bruising kiss full of teeth and tongue. Even the bedsprings protested at the power of his thrusts as he came with a force and wildness I’d never seen in our years together.
He collapsed on top of me, sweaty and shaking, his stubble scraping against my skin again and a jumble of noises coming from his mouth, though none of them made sense. I held him and rocked him, my hands smoothing their way down his damp back and stroking his hair.
"Kei?"
I shushed him and left soft kisses on his sweaty forehead. "Kei, I—"
"Hush, Alex. Go to sleep."
"I wanna go home," he murmured as he drifted off.
"You are home, sweetheart."
Chapter Nine: Zander
His mind still reeling from the night before, Zander woke early the next morning, quietly dressed and head outside into the chilly air to walk. The sun had yet to make any sort of appearance, but being a working ranch, he knew someone was up feeding the animals or soon would be.
Home was with Kei; home was with Darrach. He got that, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted this place to be his home.
The previous night's events at the bar had left him feeling more than a little displaced. Even though he worked internet crimes, he’d been taught to observe. There was no denying she and his father and were close. At least as close as a father and daughter could be when they’d known each other for less than a year. He struggled to give her a name. Delaney. It was as Irish as her. As him, even. That stopped him. That and the realization that, up until about six months ago, she hadn’t had a dad.
He’d watched Ty hug her when they arrived at the bar. His older brother had the softest heart God ever gave a man—always had. That’s what had made him such a sucker for Rhea. Her need to be saved. His need to save.
He’d watched his mother and Delaney chat and tease each other all night. Watched Delaney dance with some dime-store cowboy who’d grabbed her butt and gotten his foot stepped on. Watched her and Angi and Aunt Susie razz each other all night. Even watched her sing and cut up on stage with Jessa and Rene. She had a pretty voice, he’d give her that.
Then there was his wife who, apparently, was ready to give up her career to be a small-town sheriff. As much as Townsend would resist, Zander didn’t doubt that between his parents and Aunt Susie, it could happen. A move like this would completely change their lives. He looked around at the ranch, thinking they could live in town. It’d probably be better to live close to the station, and there were plenty of big older homes. Kei would like that.
Except, he loved the FBI; he wanted to be a supervisory agent, he wanted to run his division. He had goals and plans. He wanted to go places, but apparently, his wife wanted something different. Being sheriff meant going nowhere because there was no place to go. Except maybe the mayor’s office. He chuckled to himself at the absurdity of it all, and shook his head. Kei would make a much better mayor than sheriff. He chuckled again even as he thought about it.
This was insane.
He kept slogging down the damp, slightly muddy road, hands shoved deep in his pockets against the biting wind, then stopped as Tim exited the big red barn just north of Zack and Jessa’s house. Tim’s age was beginning to show, or maybe it was hard living.
"Morning," he called, meeting him halfway.
"Morning," Tim replied. "I got coffee on, and I ain’t standin’ out in this cold much longer." He never stopped, but kept on walking. Sighing, Zander followed him. Tim was still mad about Thanksgiving—about the stuff he’d said to Rowdy. Not that he blamed his brother for being mad, but damn, he was tired of apologizing.
They walked back the way he’d just come, cutting through the yard and stomping up the back porch. "Rowdy and Rene are probably still asleep."
Inside, Zander eyed the threadbare, faded curtains at the window and the dirty glass tabletop while Tim poured them both coffee. "Ever hear of Windex?"
With the clank of ceramic against glass, Tim set a cup in front of him, not caring that the hot brew sloshed over the top and onto the table.
"I apologize for not bein’ an anal retentive neat freak like you." Tim snorted as he took a seat. "As I recall, you were the only one of us that actually fo
lded his underwear and stacked his socks." He shook his head. "God, Momma loved you for that."
Zander couldn’t hold back a smile, but he refused to give in to his brother’s ribbing.
"Me and Ty used to sneak in your room and mess your underwear up and mismatch your socks." Overcome with laughter, Tim didn’t even try and keep his volume down as Zander sipped his coffee. "Remember that?"
He nodded over the top of his cup. For as long as he could remember, it was Ty and Tim, with him and Zack on the outside. At least since high school when he’d made the decision to leave Bluebonnet. "I complained to Dad—"
"—and he told you to take it. You always were so fuckin’ uptight, Zan. How the hell did you catch a hottie like Kei?"
He leaned back in his chair and sipped his own coffee, choosing his words carefully. "So you think my wife’s hot?"
"Yeah. I do. Remember? I like brunettes."
"I remember," he said with another nod.
Tim offered up a shit-eating grin. "She got a sister?"
"I thought someone said you were seeing Aunt Susie’s bartender."
The humor in his brother’s light blue eyes disappeared with a blink. "No. She split."
Toni...just one more thing he’d missed. "I’m sorry."
"You want some more coffee?" Tim stood and topped off his cup, apparently not caring that it was practically full. Zander noted the tense set of his shoulders and let it go. Charlene had walked out on him too. For Tim to get this upset was big news. He doubted his brother had let a woman get close to him since his wife ran out on him.
"Tell me ‘bout Kei," Tim countered, reclaiming his seat. "What kind of name is that?"
"Hawaiian. It means adored one." They smiled at each other, the earlier tension gone. "Her mother’s Hawaiian; her father was in the Navy."
"And Darrach’s named after you?"
"And his great-grandfather, Nahele. It means forest."
"Nahele." Tim nodded as a genuine smile appeared on his face. He relaxed in his chair. "I like that."
"We met in Atlanta. She, uh, she does evidence analysis—she’s a crime scene specialist."
"So what happened to the man who only dated blondes with long legs?"
He grinned into his cup before meeting his brother’s eyes. "I got sucker punched."
"Yeah? She seems sweet, and I’m glad you’re happy, even if you can be a dick."
Zander’s cheeks burned as he focused momentarily on his half-full coffee cup. "I apologized to Momma last night."
"What about Delaney? And Dad?"
"I...I’m getting there."
"If nothing else, you owe them an apology for ruining Thanksgiving. I think it’s the least you can do, even if you can't accept Delaney, which frankly I don’t understand. She’s a good kid. She’s good to Rene, too."
Now it was his turn to retreat. He nodded again, thoughtfully, as he slid his cup away and stood. "I think I’ll finish my walk."
Outside, he changed directions and walked toward his aunt’s house. He had no intention of stopping to chat, but he wanted to walk. After last night, she’d be sleeping in. She was a night owl after so many years of running the bar. He hunkered down in his jacket, wishing again for something warmer as he tucked his chin in his coat and eyed the bleak scenery. The fields were brown, the trees dark and bare. Paint it gray, splash a little blood on it, and it could have passed for a horror movie set.
The weather and the scenery suited his mood as he turned back toward his parents’ house. He’d never felt more like an outsider than he had last night at the bar. That’s why Townsend’s job offer had caught him so off guard.
The sight of Delaney coming from Ty’s house slowed him. She picked up her pace and he picked up his, finally catching her as she tried to slide between his mom’s Suburban and his Tahoe. "Delaney, wait!"
He stood near the bumpers while she stood on the other side of the mirrors, effectively blocking him if he tried to grab her. Not that he would have. He wouldn’t hurt her.
Head down, lips pursed, she stared at him for the longest time. "Well?" she huffed.
"Merry Christmas." He made it a point to look her in the eye, but his tongue refused to work beyond that.
She gave him a visual once over and backed away, her freckled face all scrunched-up with anger, fear, hated and he didn't know what else as she turned toward the porch.
"I’m sorry," he practically shouted at her back, breathing heavily from exertion, from emotion. He'd taken one look at Delaney and it had all just sort of hit him.
She nodded, turned and headed for the house where his dad now stood on the porch.
Zander followed, determined to get it all out, once and for all.
"I think that’s enough," his dad said as Delaney tried to slip past him.
"I know today must be really hard for you and I’m sorry. I'm sorry for your loss."
She nodded and leaned against his dad.
"I’m sorry you didn’t have brothers growing up." He cleared his throat and continued, "I’m sorry you didn’t have brothers to harass you and...and threaten your boyfriends. I’m sorry you didn’t have Aunt Susie around to spoil you. Cause she spoiled all of us."
"Zander," his dad chided.
"I didn’t mean it like that," he said, meeting his father’s eyes. "It wasn't a dig. I’m sorry she didn’t have all of that but...it’s not my fault she missed out. It’s yours, Dad. I’m sorry for Thanksgiving, but I’m not the only one who needs to apologize. And I know this isn’t the best apology in the world, Delaney, but I hope you’ll take it as a start. And I hope you know I’m sincere.
"You broke our family, Dad. I love you, but you did."
There was no yelling, no raised voices, no white-hot fury. Only sadness. His mother appeared behind Delaney, who had tears running down her cheeks.
"What’s going on here?" Maggie softly asked.
"I don’t know if I belong here." And in that moment, Zander felt pure sadness and regret. For so long, he'd felt like the outsider Delaney was, and now here she was, having her first Christmas without her mother. A sobering thought that made his head pound and his heart hurt all over again.
"You will always belong here, son," Jerrod said.
His mother sighed and shoved her way past Delaney to hug him, her expression as sad as he felt. "Your father lost seventeen years with Delaney. For that matter, so did I. And we lost ten years with you, plus nine months with Darrach and three years with your wife. That’s a lot of lost time. We can’t go back. Not any of us. It’s irreplaceable. If it weren’t for me, none of this would have happened."
"That’s not true and you know it," His dad said. "We both made mistakes. And I’m sorry our mistakes drove you away, Alexander."
Zander swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.
"I lost seventeen years with my daughter, but I also lost ten years with you. That hurts more than you know, but I for one, am glad there are no more secrets in this family.
"Now, we’ve got cows to feed, and I left you a pair of Tim's old boots on the back porch, so get 'em on and grab a decent jacket."
* * *
They spent most of the morning with Travis, riding around in the old ranch truck, bouncing across the fields, dropping hay and refilling the feeders. Travis talked the entire time, about his presents and his new pony sent to him all the way from his uncle in El Paso. Despite the chatter, Travis was a good helper who took his job seriously. Safe to say, the future of the Rockin’ B Ranch was assured in Travis’s hands—as much as he was Zack’s son, he reminded Zander of Ty at that age, always following his dad around and just absorbing everything. And Ty and Betti were right. His dad doted on the boy.
Just like his dad would dote on Darrach given half a chance.
As much as he felt like an outsider, the thought of his son missing out on this now bothered him even more. Maybe it was his dad’s apology. Maybe it was his apology to Delaney. They’d all paid heavily for his parents' sins, Delaney had lost
out on a dad, but keeping Darrach away from all of this wasn’t much different.
He'd needed to talk to Kei, so he’d sat down with her after they got back from feeding the animals and told her he didn’t know what to do. "For the first time in my life I feel...lost."
"I love your single-mindedness, love your determination, I love your stubbornness, I even love that you’re a neat freak, but it’s not all black and white. Life is not all black and white. Yes, I’d take the job, but you’re more suited to it, even if you don't think so. Plus, let’s face it, you’re a native son and I'll always be an outsider—like that new mayor the sheriff was complaining about," she’d added with a grin. "Life is messy, Zander. You should know that by now."
And now here they all sat in the living room watching the kids open presents. He looked around the room, noting Zack with Jessa on his lap, Ty and Betti cuddled on the couch while Delaney leaned against Ty’s leg and Rene leaned against her. A very cranky Aunt Susie had claimed one of the green wingback chairs and a very large cup of coffee. His dad played Santa while his Mom and Kei shared Darrach, who was wearing his very own flannel shirt—a gift from his mother who’d proclaimed that every boy needed a good flannel shirt. He caught Tim’s eye and his brother raised his own coffee cup and nodded as if he understood.
Delaney looked up in that moment and caught him staring. He forced himself to smile and stand before it all got to him.
Then he held out his hand to her. "We need a family photo. For the wall. We need a new family photo. Who’s got a camera?"
The End
Dear Reader,
If you enjoyed this story, please consider taking the time to leave a review at Goodreads or on your favorite e-book retailer website.
It would mean the world to me!
Amie
* * *
REDHEADED STRANGER is part of a special collection in honor of Loving Day. Other stories in this collection include KILT TEASE by Melissa Blue, GRIND by J. Hali Steele and ONCE WITH A COWBOY by Selena Illyria. I hope you’ll take the time to check them out.
About the Author:
Warning: If you're expecting me to write something serious here, you will be disappointed.
