Take Me Again

by Mackenzie McKade

  One of her hands disappeared beneath her dress and a pang exploded in his groin. “Fuck. Don't do this to me, darlin'. Let me see."

  Ignoring him, she arched her back, lips parting on an “Oh.” She raised her hips, thrusting against her hand. Exhaling, she hummed, “Ahhh ... Feels so good."

  Dolan's grip on the steering wheel whitened his knuckles. His cock had pushed past his zipper and curved angrily against his belly. A pulse radiated through his balls. Even his hips began to keep the pace to the movement of her hand.

  Her breathing had become choppy pants. The fact that she was aroused, wanted to touch herself for him, was fucking hot. A trembling hand pushed the silky material up her legs, inch by inch.

  "Yeah, darlin', higher.” Dolan nearly lost the truck again when he swerved into a ditch. “Fuck.” Once again he righted the vehicle as the lights of his house came into view. Instead of slowing down he hit the gas.

  Gravel popped as he reached the pebbled driveway and pulled the truck to a screeching halt. He didn't shut off the engine. No. His entire attention was on the woman whose bottom half lay completely exposed.

  Tracy's breasts were heavy. Her nipples rasping lightly against the bodice of the dress with each ragged breath. Eyes dark as the night watched her with an intensity that sent a tremor up her spine and into her hands. Even her legs quivered. She was so close to coming that she didn't dare go near her clit. Touching that spot would set her off like a keg of gunpowder.

  Breathe. She made an “O” with her mouth and released the air from her lungs. Focusing her fingertips on her swollen folds, she slid them over the slick flesh.

  Never taking his stare off her of pussy, Dolan drew nearer, draping his body over the console. His fingers circled her ankle and for a mere second she thought he might taste her, but he didn't.

  She wanted him to lick her—but not, as she entered the point where she hung on the precipice. The dreamy place that consumed her senses—her body felt so good that climaxing would be blissful but end the moment of rapture. The motion of her fingers slowed. Hearing consisted of nothing but the rapid beat of her heart echoing in her ears.

  Leaning forward, he removed her hand and blew a warm breath over her moist skin. She closed her eyes, fighting a losing battle. But it was his tongue, wet and warm, wrapping around the swollen bud that shattered her control. As he sucked long and hard, her body ignited, raining pleasure down upon her. She didn't even try to restrain the scream that tore from her diaphragm. Every muscle inside clenched. A heat wave surged over her with each delicious throb. She prayed it would go on and on, but it didn't. Too soon it was over.

  Releasing a deep sigh, she opened her heavy eyelids to see male satisfaction staring back at her.

  "How's that for foreplay?” He placed a kiss against her sex.

  Like every time they came together, she had never felt as sated as she did when she was with him. “Hmmm. Perfect."

  Sitting up, he brushed his palms up and down her legs before he reached for the keys. The engine died and the light blinked out. The door moaned as he opened it, climbed out and then swung it close. As he walked around the truck, she righted herself, fumbling around in the darkness to find her sandals and purse. She was slipping her shoes on when he opened her door and pulled her into his arms.

  Their lips touched. His kiss was tender. She tasted herself on him. The scent and musky flavor was arousing, pleasing. “Stay with me tonight?” The yearning in his voice made her answer stick in her throat.

  Thankfully he couldn't see moisture filled her eyes. As her body slid down his, her feet touching the gravel driveway, she turned away to shield the raging emotions that rolled in from out of nowhere.

  How could she have fallen for him so quickly? This was ridiculous. Lord knows they had experienced roadblocks one after another, but for some unknown reason they were drawn to each other. That alone told her that if their relationship was to be it would be. With that in mind she would take what he offered tonight. Tomorrow she would lay her cards on the table and pray he wouldn't walk away.

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  Chapter Fifteen

  As Dolan held Tracy in front of his house, he waited for an answer that didn't materialize. He had never asked a woman to stay over. His home was his sanctuary. Yet he wanted—no needed—her to spend night. Moonlight fell across her beautiful face before she turned away. Were those tears or a trick of the night?

  She cleared her throat. “It's so quiet."

  Adjusting his hold, he slid an arm around her shoulders. “That's the thing I like about this place, that and no city lights.” They started walking toward his three bedroom country home with a porch that wrapped completely around it. “Sometimes at night or early morning I sit on the swing and just listen to the sounds of nature or inhale the sweet scent of hay rolling off of one of Cord's fields.” Even now he could smell the alfalfa on the breeze that stirred around them. But the grassy aroma was nothing compared to the light scent of Tracy on his mustache. He ran his tongue along his upper lip, tasting her again. Her expression of ecstasy as she touched herself in the truck was still embedded in his mind.

  As they approached the stairs leading to his house, he released her. Her sandals slapped the wooden steps as she climbed and then waited for him to follow. The old swing creaked, swaying in the wind as currents of air danced a gathering of leaves around the floor making a scraping sound. Leading the way to the door, he fished out his house key from his jeans. After he opened the door, he moved aside and let her enter. Grappling in the dark for the light switch, his fingertips touched it. With a click, light filled the room.

  She blinked as he squinted.

  Tracy looked around the small living room. “Dolan, this is so cozy."

  Did that mean it was small or comfortable? For some reason it meant a lot to him that she liked his home.

  Mrs. Cartwright had helped him to decorate the house. She had given him the crocheted afghan across the tan leather couch. Hell. She had even provided the two end tables on each side of the sofa, and the wooden rocking chair sitting near the old fireplace. The valance that accented the large window seat looking over acres of land was also hers. A modest size flat screen television hung from the wall that was adorned with western art—art provided by Cord when Cait redecorated. Tile went throughout the house with throw rugs in every room.

  Still, the prettiest thing in the house was Tracy. Amazingly, she looked like she belonged here. She handed him her purse as he removed his hat, hanging both of them on the coat rack near the door.

  "Thank you,” she said.

  He took her into his arms, unable to resist her touch.

  Would their night together be a moment of rushed sex before she demanded he take her home? Or would she stay and allow him to love her the way she deserved?

  He lowered his head and captured her mouth. Gently he stroked her lips with his tongue, nudging between them to gain entrance. Her lips parted and he pushed past them to taste her. Their tongues met, tangled and smoothed up and down one another. Tightening his hold, he leaned his head to one side and deepened the caress. Hot and urgent, he couldn't get enough as he devoured her.

  Her arms snaked around his neck. He shuffled his feet pushing her back against the wall. Looping his hands beneath her knees he raised her. She locked her legs around his waist. His palms gripped her bare ass, reminding him she wore no panties. His cock went from semi-hard to rock-hard in nanoseconds.

  As he pressed his hips to her center, his jeans slid across her pussy. She cried out and he swallowed her whimper.

  "I need you naked,” he groaned between kisses.

  She arched her neck. “Yes.” He savored the saltiness of her skin and inhaled the light flowery perfume she chose to wear tonight.

  Using his body to brace her against the wall, he knotted his fingers into the hem of her dress and worked it up, forcing her to release the hold she had on his neck. As he pulled the garment over her head, she gave him a hea
rt stopping smile and replaced her arms around his neck. The dress slipped from his fingertips to drop to the floor.

  His gaze stroked her body. “So beautiful. I can't wait to fuck you."

  She released her ankles, allowing her body to slide down the wall until her feet touched the floor. The come-hither look she gave him was all he needed.

  Moving away, he sat on the edge of the couch and quickly removed his boots and socks. As he stood he pulled his T-shirt over his head and then reached into his pocket, extracting a condom. Pushing his jeans to his ankles he stepped out of them. Without pausing, he rolled the latex over his erection.

  Damn. She was beautiful.

  Wavy red hair fell down past her shoulders. Full breasts begged to be fondled and touched.

  He closed the distance between them, his palms cupping her face. Gazing into her dreamy blue-green eyes, emotions he had never felt before assailed him. Every inch of him felt tied into a knot. Lord, help him. If this was love, it was the most complete and most fucked-up feeling he had ever felt.

  Leaning into her, he sipped from her mouth needing more but wanting the night to last forever. “Move in with me.” Her bright stare was nothing to the shock he felt coursing through his body. Fear. Anticipation. Threads of hope wrapped around him like chains holding him in a web of expectation.

  "Dolan. I—"

  He kissed her again not wanting to hear the rejection building in her tone. When the caress ended she appeared weary.

  "Don't answer now. Just consider it.” He raised her in his arms and carried her through the room, down the hall to the master bedroom.

  Dolan liked his comfort and he had splurged on a massive king-size bed. The comforter was pillow soft. He laid her upon it and marveled at how right she looked lying on his bed.

  Misty-eyed, she stared at him.

  He felt his confidence slip. Dammit. He was moving too fast. Yet every fiber in his body told him this was right. Her. Him. He just needed more time.

  Neither spoke as he crawled upon the bed beside her. Resting his head on a palm, he smoothed his other hand across her firm belly. She was warm, soft. “You feel so good."

  She opened her arms. “Come here.” Like a puppet on a string he fell into them. The minute her arms folded around him he sighed. They lay there for only a moment before she said, “We need to talk."

  He eased up placing some distance between them to see sorrow reflecting in her eyes. But he didn't want to deal with it—not now. “Not tonight."

  More time whispered in his head as he wedged his knee between her legs spreading her wide.

  "Tonight is for lovin'—tomorrow talking.” He swallowed hard, hoping she would yield. “Okay?"

  She inhaled a ragged breath. “Dolan?"

  Trepidation slid over his skin. He brushed back her hair, knowing that if she wanted to talk then talk they would. If he had to, he'd admit his feelings for her and beg if necessary. “Yes, darlin'?"

  "Love me.” Her voice sounded so small with an air of hopelessness that twisted his gut.

  "I plan to. All. Night. Long."

  Tracy didn't really want to talk tonight either. She wanted to believe in happy endings—she wanted to believe that this man would accept her no matter her situation.

  Moving to his knees, he raised her hips and stuffed a pillow beneath them. Positioning her, his hands were warm on her skin. As he stepped forward, his cock pressed against the pulse between her thighs. She closed her eyes preparing for the moment of bliss. With one thrust he parted her slit and slipped deep inside. Instant gratification filled her with awe.

  "Yes.” The single word came out a hiss of pleasure.

  Raising her arms, she started to reach for him, pull him closer, but he took control. Intertwining his fingers with hers, he pinned them to each side of her head. He rocked his hips against hers, back and forth, the gentle pace so sensual it heightened her senses. He eased out leaving her with an empty filling. Before she could object, he swayed forward driving deep to stroke the back of her sex. Over and over, he made love to her with such tenderness she wondered if her heart would be the same after tonight.

  Her eyelids fluttered open. The intensity of his stare as he watched his cock move in and out of her body was arousing. Her breasts grew heavier, nipples tingling, as moisture released between her thighs. Slick. Hot. Their bodies swayed in perfect harmony.

  "Mine,” he growled. The throaty avow wrapping around her heart.

  If only it were true.

  Emotions rose so quickly she felt like she was drowning. She gasped. “I need to touch you.” She needed to take control, stop herself from falling deeper into the spell he was weaving around her.

  He shook his head.

  "Please,” she begged just as he angled his hips, stroking a sensitive area that triggered a series of ripples throughout her body. “Oh God."

  "No.” It was a strained demand. “Not.” His jaws clenched as his brows furrowed. “Yet.” He pushed the last word through his teeth. Dragging in a deep breath, his chest seemed to expand.

  She flexed her inner muscles to hold back the orgasm beating for release.

  "Fuck.” His grip tightened. He raised his head, his hot gaze meeting hers. “Now. Come for me."

  Responding to his command, the fire that simmered inside her exploded. At the same time he jerked against her, threw back his head and cried out.

  The moment was spectacular, beyond anything she could imagine. Their bodies were in sync, pulsing to the same rhythm, as their orgasms washed over them with the ferocity of a tempest. A whirling mass of sensations caught in the motion, bringing them closer and closer together. They breathed simultaneously. Even the beat of their hearts melded into one.

  Their climaxes crested and he released her hands, easing atop her so that nothing stood between them. Strong arms held her close as the final note played, leaving a light hum across her skin. She basked in the aftermath, breathing in his masculine scent and reveling in its potency.

  The scream of a telephone ripped her out of the dreamy state that had embraced her. Was it his cell phone or hers? She looked around the room for a clock. It had to be close to eleven. A call this late meant an emergency.

  "Fuck,” he moaned again but didn't move. “I'm sorry.” After two more rings, he released her pushing into a sitting position. Weaving his fingers through his hair, he got to his feet.

  Moving to the side of the bed, she saw the red light of his telephone blinking against his belt. He picked up his jeans and silenced the telephone by flipping open the cover and pressing it to his ear.

  "Crane.” Quietly he listened to the person on the other end. “Okay. Yeah. I'll be there in about twenty minutes.” He snapped the telephone closed and hung it on his belt. Peeling the condom off, he tossed it in the waste basket before using a tissue from atop the dresser to clean up. Without hesitating he reached for his jeans and pulled them over his legs and hips and fastened them.

  She got to her feet. “I'll go with you?"

  He cocked a brow. “In your sexy little dress? How do you think that'll look to Kevin Laski?"

  "Dunguard?” She remembered the horse's bleeding condition.

  Dolan nodded. “The man is a sonofabitch.” He pushed his arms through the sleeves of his shirt.

  "I'll call Rowdy and see if he can pick me up and take me home."

  "Stay here.” He slipped on his socks. “I'll try to get back as soon as I can."

  "You and I both know you may be all night. I need to be in the office at eight tomorrow morning."

  "This is all fucked up."

  "No. It's the life both of us chose.” She eased into his arms and he kissed her quickly.

  "Sorry I have to leave. I'll call Rowdy for you on the way out.” He flipped open his cell phone as he headed for the door.

  "Thank you.” She doubted he heard her as he disappeared through the open door.

  In seconds she was alone. She looked around the room. Across from the bed was a match
ing highboy. A dark green runner that matched the bed's comforter adorned the bureau. Atop the dresser was a picture of a woman and man holding a small boy—Dolan? His small arms were locked tightly around his father's neck. They looked so happy, the perfect family. On each side of the photograph were individual pictures of who she assumed were his mother and father.

  Emotion dampened Tracy's eyes. There was so much in common between Dolan and Sheldon. Both had lost their parents at such a young age. She wrapped her arms around her naked shoulders as goose bumps rose across her skin. Would he see the resemblance? Would it make a difference? Mentally, she shook the thought away and went on a hunt for her dress.

  The house was quiet as she drifted through the hall into the living room. Locating her dress on the floor, she picked it up and slithered into it, the soft material caressing her sensitive skin. She took a second to take in her surroundings as she spied her sandals and picked them up. He had made every attempt to make an empty shell of a house a home, from the blanket thrown across the sofa to the area rug before the fireplace. Even a rocking chair sat expectantly. Yet it still felt cold, almost unlived in.

  Again sadness crept into her thoughts. Had his mother rocked him as a child? What had he been like?

  Restlessly, she started to walk through the house, trying to find hints of his childhood. Other than the pictures of his parents in his bedroom, there were six pictures total of his uncle, Cord and Dolan, which apparently summed up his entire life. The fact there were no women's pictures both saddened and appeased her. No one had captured his heart enough for him to want to make a memory of their relationship.

  Booted steps made her turn. Rowdy stood in the doorway of Dolan's living room with an expression she couldn't read. He didn't speak, just stared at her for longer then was comfortable.

  Hand against the wall, she braced herself, slipping her feet in her sandals. “What?"

  "You like him?” Of course, he referred to Dolan, but she pretended otherwise.

  "Him?” she asked.