Loving a Bad Boy (Bad Boys Western Romance Book 4)

by Susan Arden

  “Of course, I’ll stay in touch.” Ivy fell into her embrace. “Don’t get down. And don’t let Jen drag you into her nonsense. She’s just plain jealous, but she’ll get over it.”

  “Hope you’re right. ‘Cause how she’s acting isn’t right. Not after the last time she lost it.” With her chest tighter than a drum, she released Ivy.

  “I know. It’s messed up. She thought she was headed to LA with Drew. He offered—I’m not exactly sure what went on, but it didn’t work out.” Ivy nodded. “She’s got her issues when it comes to guys.”

  “Don’t we all. Girl, I’ll miss you something terrible, but if you’re happy, then go for it!” Sommer said, unwilling to part company with Ivy by badmouthing Jen.

  “I’ll miss you too, but I’ll be back soon. Jillian, take care of that baby of yours,” Ivy replied, amidst tears and a quivering smile. “Well, I gotta run. Vince is tired, and there’s a long trip ahead of us.”

  “You’re not going to the Barely Back?” Sommer asked, shocked from the realization that this was it. One of her best friends was splitting from Annona.

  Ivy shook her head, and even in the dim outdoor lighting, she noticed the color overtaking her friend’s olive complexion. “We’re going back to the hotel.”

  “Congrats,” Jillian said. “Sounds like a dream come true.”

  “Fingers crossed, girls!” And Ivy did—with both hands. Sommer and Jillian raised their hands and crossed their fingers in solidarity.

  “Won’t need these,” Sommer said of their crossed fingers, and then watched Ivy sprint over the electrical cables that blanketed the ground behind the stage.

  “Damn,” Jill replied. “Haden nailed it. This place really is going through some changes.”

  “Are we going out to the ranch?” she asked Rory after Diehard finished and Jill and Stephen left. Sommer expected him to agree but he glanced down, his brows furrowed.

  “Can we do that tomorrow?” he asked, keeping his eyes averted.

  “What happened?” Her heartbeat picked up, recognizing the signs of a potential meltdown in Rory. She hadn’t had the chance to ask him about Jen, but maybe she should open up the subject and not wait until they were alone.

  He stood and tugged on her hand. “Not much.”

  “BS. I saw Jen over here. And Mike. And I didn’t like what I saw.” She blew out a breath, wondering what was becoming of her. One moment she was calm, and next a gale force wind, ready to tear down whatever was in her path. She should direct her frustration at Jen, but right now it was Rory who was in front of her. And she barreled forward, even though she knew she should shut her mouth. “Are you calling it an early evening? Or an evening that doesn’t include me?”

  “What are you talking about?” Rory fixed her with a quizzical look, yet he couldn’t hide how dark and intense his eyes were. He swung his leg over the bench, raking his gaze down her as some essence of hardness filled his blue eyes. He was upset, but not in the ordinary, fueled by fire way. That type of fuel had him ready to launch. He was trying to stow—push aside his anger, and that equated to something so much worse.

  “Don’t you what me, McLemore,” she said, keeping her voice down. “This isn’t jealousy talking. I can tell when you’re pissed to the max.”

  “Not gonna lie. I am. But this doesn’t involve you and me.” He lowered his voice as he pointed from her to him and snarled, “Just a bunch of bullshit.”

  He steered her through the crowds, his expression steely and she was stunned—silenced. Some of the people were going inside the Diamond, while the majority headed toward the parking area across the street. A river of rowdy people, jabbering on, while they walked, bumping shoulders together but otherwise not touching.

  “How are Jen and Mike part of the bullshit equation?” she finally asked when they reached his truck. The moonlight glowed around them, painting everything, especially the angles of his face, in shimmering silver light.

  She watched his chest slowly rise and fall. His flaring, blistering rage she could deal with—it came, it went. Not this. A slow seething that charred.

  “I fired Mike.” He removed his car keys and rubbed his thumb along one, seeming to contemplate the matter.

  Rarely had she witnessed this type of anger that burrowed down deep inside of him. She lacked the experience and relied on gut instinct to navigate this most foreign of foreign terrain.

  In a split second, she connected invisible dots with a line. “Something to do with Jen. And if it involves Mike…did he welch on paying you back?”

  He opened the truck door and helped her inside. “Not even close. Just a bunch of stupidity.”

  “But she had her hands on you,” Sommer said softly.

  “Trust me, not my choice, and I had a tough time just standing there. Thought she stopped by to relay an apology or something about what she’d done to you. I was wrong.” He cupped her face between his hands and pressed his forehead to hers.

  Sommer brushed her fingers over his arms, pressing closer to him and inhaling his scent. “You weren’t wrong. You’re right. A whole bunch of stupidity accurately describes what she’s thinking.”

  “Baby, I need you.” Without giving her a second to respond, he backed away, stealing her breath.

  He shut her door and she leaned her head back, watching him walk in front of the hood and then around to his side. Her heartbeat picked up, tapping out a rapid tempo. How many times had she sat in this exact spot and watched him retrace those steps? Each time, her pulse had reacted—or overreacted.

  Rory slid behind the wheel and she stretched out her arm, caressing the smooth skin along his bicep. “You made me feel good when I needed solace,” she whispered. “What can I do for you?”

  Rory pinched the bridge of his nose. “Baby, I’m so close to...”

  He didn’t finish. Sommer sucked in a breath—or would have, if her chest hadn’t suddenly convulsed. They’d had breakups, but those were on the spur of the moment where they’d been forced into a corner and one of them needed some room to adjust. They hadn’t done the hushed toned, whispered breakup. Blindsided, words tangled and whirled. A vortex inside her head. Each revolution cut her so deep, she gasped and wrapped her arms around her waist to keep from bowing forward as if she were a deflating balloon and the air was rushing out of her.

  “You want to break up…for good?” It took most of her strength just to get the words out.

  “Holy shit, no!” He shot her a look of disbelief. “Give me your hand.” He interlaced their fingers and pulled her along the seat, not stopping until their thighs connected. He released her fingers and placed her hand over the bulge in his jeans. “I want to get naked with you. I’m so close to saying the hell with holding back. All I want to do is bury myself inside you.”

  “Where can we go?” she asked, her heart having now leapt into her throat. “Not that I’m saying yes. We could get undressed, hold each other, not doing anything but lie down and sleep.”

  “Baby, whatever you want.” He kissed her, sucking on her lips, one then the other. He groaned, and the warm caress of his breath teased her to open her mouth. She returned his groan, digging her fingers into his arms, and bringing them closer as he drove his tongue farther in her mouth.

  After kissing her, he feathered his fingers along her face. “Let’s get a hotel room. Baby, I need to get naked with you.”

  In the corridor right outside the hotel room, Rory inserted the key card, and she watched the green light flicker. As if she’d overdosed on fight-or-flight hormones, her stomach knotted. Is this how it would be if I were his bride? Nervous knowing precisely where the evening was headed.

  Not a bad thing, she suddenly thought standing stiffly next to the doorframe.

  Rory opened the door, holding it wide and turned toward her, meeting her eyes. “Baby, everything okay?”

  “Err…” Nothing came out. She peered up at him then shifted her gaze into the lit room. Brain?
Hello? What’s wrong with me?

  Another couple passed by them in the hall, making her grip on the doorframe go to white-knuckle status. Rory grazed his fingertips along her jaw, bending until his mouth was at her ear. “Are you coming inside?”

  “I’m not sure that tonight is the best night.”

  “We’ll only do what you’re comfortable with. Not a damn thing more.”

  Searching his face, she touched his waist hesitantly, then with more assurance. His body was achingly familiar. Warm against her cold fingers. Hers. But even so, she couldn’t erase the storm of images from the concert swirling inside her head. Stop being irrational, she ordered.

  “A-all right,” she stammered, confirming her mind refused to cooperate at the snap of her mental fingers. Her feet actually refused to move. This idea of her and Rory doing it because of the idiots on parade tonight was a boulder in her path, preventing her from rushing forward. Mindlessly.

  “Do you want to leave?” He returned her gaze, letting go of the door. The snick of the lock sounded loud in the hallway and she flinched.

  “I don’t know why I’m acting this way. I shouldn’t let what went down color my vision and keep me from doing what I want. Ridiculous. Right?”

  “Not exactly.” He heaved out a heavy sigh. “Not after tonight. You’re more than right.”

  “So you want to leave?” She struggled to keep a matter-of-fact tone, but failed.

  Rory’s chest rose and fell in a protracted deep breath. “If we act on an impulse because of outside influences, it’s wrong. But I won’t lie. I want to be with you after a night that pushed all sorts of buttons. We won’t do anything we’ll regret. I promise.”

  God, when he said things like that and gazed at her with his penetrating blue gaze, she didn’t have an answer except to lean forward. Crush her mouth to his. “Rory,” she moaned in a whisper.

  He retraced the skin along her jaw until his fingers curled around her neck. He lowered his head and fully returned her kiss. Just a kiss. But oh how inviting. Temptation that sizzled along her nerve endings. He was the one who’d refrained from crossing a multitude of boundaries when he could have effortlessly. He didn’t give his word to manipulate her or anyone else. Rory gave his word as a guarantee, and one he’d proven countless times.

  Over the years, day in and day out, sometimes patiently, sometimes fit to be tied, but he’d built a foundation in their relationship. She trusted him. Another important piece of the McLemore DNA puzzle. An intrinsic part of his bloodline she’d learned like a lot of folks, that none of the McLemores went back on their word.

  “Just be with me, baby,” he said in a voice that rumbled low in his chest.

  Skimming her nails along his warm roped forearms, she curled her fingers and pulled closer to him, her pulse picking up. “When you say it like that, I can’t resist.”

  Rory hadn’t released his hold on her and he lightly squeezed her neck. “Yes, you can. Don’t ever let me or anyone else push you into doing something you don’t want. Promise me.” He’d kept his eyes locked on hers and spoke with a force that shook her.

  “I promise.” She shifted her focus to the door. The room number 311. “You paid for this room, expecting—”

  “Nothing. I only want to hold you. Feel your softness. Have your scent wrapped around me, running through me. But it’s not just your beautiful body that blows my mind, darlin’.” He moved his hand up the back of her head and to her crown then squeezed gently. “In here. There’s a whole world I love exploring.”

  Her heart exploded in her chest. This she knew. His ability to make her pulse rocket. Just like watching him walk around the hood of his truck, but this power he possessed always surprised her. He was here now. Right next to her and she slid her hands to his waist, rubbing her thumbs along the bands of his washboard abs. She lifted her hand and placed it on his chest. Just like hers, his heart raced. “You’re right. There’s a whole world in each of us.”

  He reinserted the card into the slot. Swiftly, he opened and positioned his boot against the door to keep it from closing, then picked her up. Seamless in his movement, resolute in his carrying her, he let the door go when he walked inside. It closed with a slamming whoosh. Loud enough to rattle the inside of the room and reverberate along her nerves, shooting an electrical zing through her body—even her fingertips pulsed.

  Slowly, he set her down next to the bed without releasing her. His mouth crashed down on hers, only this time he kissed her with unrestrained urgency. Their tongues dueled nonstop, moving from her mouth to his. Fevered. Frenzied. Devouring.

  As if reading her thoughts, he murmured against her lips. “I won’t fuck you. God knows I want to.”

  Every cell in Sommer’s body was on board, now that they were inside this room. Her fear evaporated and in its place, a red-hot flame vibrantly streamed through her, heating her blood as all her concerns swirled within a vortex. With Rory’s demanding tongue thrusting into her mouth, all her thoughts dissolved into one. Getting undressed and getting seriously close to her cowboy.

  She opened her mouth to him, following his lead. Kissing him, sucking on his tongue, and biting his lip. The rougher he kissed her, the wilder her lust became. Mini-jolts of electrical pleasure shot through her, landing between her legs. Her clit pulsed, a tiny pearl for his tongue. He’d fucked her with his mouth and fingers, and now she needed to feel more of him, thrusting into her pussy.

  Their mouths moved together and then their hands joined the party. They removed each other’s clothing. Shirts were pulled off. First his, and then hers. Her pebbled nipples drew his attention. Rory reached for her again, hauling her against him, skin on warm supple skin, chest to chest. He wrapped her ponytail around his hand and tugged her face to one side, bowing her back and driving his straining hard-on against her sex. Wordlessly and demanding, he pressed his mouth to hers in a bruising kiss, sucking on her bottom lip and issuing a low growl, reverberating in his chest.

  “You feel so good,” he whispered, dragging his mouth to her jaw.

  He held her in place with his arm around her waist. No matter how much she wriggled, he confined her against his hard body, making her submit to him. He continued kissing a scorching path down her neck, tugging her hair, forcing her to meld to him. He sucked a point on her skin and she cried out as darts of pleasure hurled through her, targeting the space between her legs, over and over again. She needed him, powerful and demanding between her thighs. Sommer pulled on his belt loops, then traced the edge of his waistband, arriving at his zipper.

  Lifting her ankle against his muscular calf, she ran her hand down his bulge and pressed her palm over what felt like a steel pipe.

  “Baby,” he growled, pumping his hips and rubbing his hard-on against her hand. “Time to get naked.”

  Chapter 18

  “Your nipples drive me crazy,” Rory murmured, tweaking each between his thumb and forefinger. These beauties he owned. Spreading his fingers over her smooth silky skin, he plucked her piercings with the right amount of force to make her bite that incredible bottom lip of hers.

  “Babe. More.” Sommer shivered in his arms, her sweet breath a warm puff against his cheek.

  He flicked his thumbs over her erect peaks, gauging her reaction. “I want you to feel good.”

  “Good? What you do feels freaking amazing,” she moaned. Her amber eyes sparkled as her pupils dilated. He knew her body fully clothed, and now he was learning, memorizing a map of her skin. Naked and his to enjoy.

  “Step.” He gritted out, grabbing the heel of her boot and pulled, then followed up with the other. “Again.”

  “Hope your plans for tonight include hard and rough,” she whispered as he moved her back. “Especially hard.”

  “I might not fully fuck you tonight, but it’s my name you’ll be screaming as you come,” he promised, lowering the zipper on her skirt.

  She wasn’t the only one who’d be coming. He was on the verg
e of shooting his load, and they’d only kissed. A whole night to explore Sommer. From her beautiful head to her last, little toe. All he had to do was hold back from thrusting into her balls deep. What the hell had he been thinking when he promised no actual fucking? He pulled her skirt down her silky skin. She stood in front of him wearing nothing but the sexiest smile, teasing his senses taut.

  For the last hour, he’d walked a tightrope after ripping her panties and socking them away. The singular thought shredding his existence: that she’d been sitting next to him, dancing against him, walking with him minus panties. He envisioned her pussy about a million times. Pink. Wet. Spread, wrapped around him, sweet, squeezing… The list was endless. A catalyst that had worked over all his good intensions until none remained.

  Sommer took hold of his belt, undoing his buckle, popped the button to his jeans, undid his fly. She tugged his jeans down. He stopped her to step out of his boots and socks, and then she resumed. Her tits bounced as she knelt in front of him. Her glistening mouth decimated his focus while her fingers slid his boxers to the floor. He was almost out of his mind as his cock sprung free.

  “In case you didn’t know it cowboy, you’re seriously hung. Ever measure—”

  “Baby, I’m close. Take that as a warning.” So near he couldn’t do more than grunt. Even his rod stood up, hugging his belly as pre cum dripped from the slit and ran over his crown. Seeing her poised right in front of him had turned his hunger inside out. “Get on the bed, Sommer.”

  “But I wanted to—”

  He hoisted her up by her elbows. “Don’t argue. Or we can work on following directions.” Every fiber in him was strung tight in his need to claim Sommer. Take her. Fuck her. Watching her twist and bend forward, lifting her knee to the bed, stopped him dead in his tracks. “Stop, right there.”