Rule Breaker

by Joanne Rock

  Eight

  April couldn’t have said who moved first.

  It was like laying a match to dry tinder, and they both caught flame at the same moment. In an instant, their mouths met. Fused.

  This kiss was nothing like the one she’d given him over dinner, when she’d seized her courage and tasted a few moments of pleasure. This time, he licked into her mouth, igniting a raw passion that stole her breath. It was everything she wanted. Everything she needed for this night.

  She slid her hands up his arms, steadying herself on his shoulders as she swayed into him. His powerful body anchored her when the pleasure of the kiss threatened to pull her under. Consume her. She held on to him, knowing he wouldn’t let go even though he seemed as lost in this moment as she was.

  She felt his hands stroking through her hair, down her spine, splaying over the arch of her back. All of those touches brought her closer, sealing her body to his, making her ache for still more of him. Just one kiss, and she was melting inside her clothes, desperate to be free of them.

  So when he eased back, she didn’t even comprehend what was happening. Her grip tightened on his shoulders for a moment, fingers clenching the fabric of his white button-down.

  “I don’t want to rush things—”

  “You’re not.” She realized that she hadn’t even let him get a full sentence out. Biting her lip, she forced her fingers to relax their grip, to ease away an inch. “That is, I don’t feel rushed.”

  He arched an eyebrow, his hazel gaze sweeping over her before he lowered his voice. “Is this happening then?”

  The growl in his tone made her toes curl inside her boots. She could have purred with pleasure at the thought of being with him.

  “From my point of view,” she said, wanting to spell it out as clearly as she knew how, needing to make sure they understood each other, “it can’t happen soon enough.”

  “That sounds like a challenge.” He contemplated her for the space of a heavy heartbeat. And then another.

  Was he waiting for her to contradict him? She had no intention of doing any such thing.

  Then, before she knew what he was about, his hands slid around her hips, lifting her against him. He spun her in his arms, backing her against the door they’d just entered. A barrier had tumbled between them, and not just a physical one. She had a glimpse of the more reckless heart beneath his tightly controlled actions, and it thrilled her as much as the heated press of his body.

  His tongue plunged into her mouth, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. At the press of his erection, she wriggled closer still. His hand cradled her face, steadying her for his kiss, angling her chin where he wanted her.

  And oh, his mouth. The things he did with it elicited sensations everywhere. A shiver tripped up her spine.

  She squeezed her thighs tighter, locking her heels with a moan that made his hips buck against her. Sweet tension coiled inside her, along with the need to undress him. She broke the kiss long enough to inform him, “We need less clothes.”

  “We are of one mind tonight,” he assured her, straightening enough to lift her again.

  She clung to him, arms around his neck, only half-focused on where they were going. His bedroom, she guessed, since he headed in a different direction than the suite he’d shown her earlier. They went through a hallway where recessed lighting cast shadows on his face that accented his high cheekbones and sharp jaw. She bent to kiss him there, feeling the slight bristle of his cheek, inhaling the fading scent of teakwood aftershave as he stepped into the wide expanse of his bedroom, where the whitewashed log walls framed a massive espresso-colored bed draped in pale gray linens. The only illumination in the room came from a spotlight on a canvas painting of a wooded mountainside covered in snow.

  He kicked the door shut behind them, and she edged back to see his expression, but he was completely focused on the bed.

  Anticipation curled through her as he lowered them both onto it. His knees hit the mattress along with her hips. Her fingers flew to the buttons on his shirt, working fast. She was desperate to feel his skin against hers. Hell, desperate just to see him.

  He felt so incredibly good beneath his clothes. She unfastened and tugged, dragging the shirt down his shoulders as she gave thanks to the light in the room for giving her a glimpse of so much masculine strength. Lean muscles worked in smooth harmony as he moved over her, unfastening the hooks on her jumpsuit.

  Every now and then, a knuckle grazed her skin. Between her breasts first. Then on her upper stomach. Her navel. He paused there, as if deliberating. But when he yanked his gaze up to meet hers, she realized he was only thinking about how to proceed. Anticipating her as much as she was longing for him.

  She drew in a breath, holding on to the moment. And in that instant, he stepped away from her, freeing himself from her legs. Yet as soon as she missed the feel of him there, he was on his knees next to the bed, his shoulders making room between her thighs even as his hand raked down the top half of her outfit.

  Oh.

  She’d never survive his undressing as he kissed his way down the fastenings. He hovered at the jumpsuit hook above her panties, his breath warm enough for her to feel it through the layers of lace and silk. Pleasure spiked along with her heart rate. Her fingers twisted in the gray cotton of the duvet, holding tight.

  And then his lips were there, molding to her skin before his tongue teased along the waistband of her underwear. Slid beneath.

  Her breath came faster, all of her focus narrowed to the places his tongue touched. By the time he dragged her panties down and off along with the rest of her clothes, her skin tingled everywhere, nerve endings buzzing. The tender scrape of his jaw against her inner thigh made her heartbeat stutter. When he kissed her intimately, tasting and exploring with a thoroughness that shattered all reserve, her release pulsed through her in wave after wave of pleasure.

  He hugged her hips, holding her there, coaxing every last twitch of delicious fulfillment from her body. Afterward, wrung out and sated, she blinked up at him as he straightened. Dimly aware he hadn’t even finished undressing, she dragged a pillow closer while she watched him retrieve a condom and shed his clothes.

  Seeing his heavy male muscles shifting under his skin stirred a hunger in her all over again. The dim light cast shadows that highlighted the ridges of his abs, the delineation in his arms. As soon as he came within touching distance, she skimmed her fingertip down one of his shoulders to skate over the taut triceps while he stretched out above her on the bed.

  Hazel eyes locked on hers, he made room for himself between her legs. The heat and weight of his erection brushed over her thigh just long enough to remind her how much more she still wanted from him. She arched up to kiss him, urging him closer until he nudged his way inside her. Slowly.

  Incredibly.

  He remained still for a long moment, letting her adjust. She slid her arms around him, holding on to the moment when it felt like there was nothing else in the world but this. Them.

  Once he started to move, she blinked her eyes open, realizing how quickly she could lose herself in everything she felt inside. She flexed her fingers tighter into his shoulders, needing to remain focused on the physical. The outward. The pleasure.

  They moved together, legs tangling, arms twining, grappling for purchase as they rolled from one side to the other. She kissed him, fingers combing through his hair and then spearing up the back of his neck to rake the silky strands all over again.

  When he shifted her on top of him, she bent forward to trail kisses along his chest, teasing and tasting her way around the muscles there. Seized with the need to make him feel all of the bliss that he’d given her, she captured his hands and pinned them lightly above his head. She admired the splay of his shoulders, took in the arched, curious eyebrow as he no doubt wondered what she was doing. Then she set about finding what he liked best.<
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  Slow undulations of her hips drove them both higher. She sensed her own release was close again, but before she could drive them both there, he flipped her to her back. Their eyes met, and the look in his made her breath catch.

  He hovered above her for a long moment, and when their bodies joined fully again, an orgasm shook her to her toes. He followed her a moment later, the sensations spiraling on and on between them until they lay in a heap of spent limbs and damp skin in the cooling air.

  A languid peacefulness stole over her as her heart stopped racing and settled into a normal rhythm again. Their breathing synced up, and she nuzzled deeper into the pillow, replete. Weston moved to drag a blanket over her, kissing her shoulder as he swiped stray curls from her cheek.

  “I’m going to make you dinner,” he told her softly. “I feel like a bad host for not feeding you earlier.”

  “On the contrary, you’ve been an extremely attentive host.” A smile hitched at her lips even though she felt a twinge of worry that he was easing away from her so soon. “I won’t complain about how you’ve spent your time tonight.”

  She should be relieved that he was giving her some space to process what had just happened between them. But the regret she felt at not being able to curl against him told her she was letting her emotions get too tangled up in him already. Tugging the blanket under her chin, she rolled on her back to see him better as he dragged on a pair of jeans.

  Commando.

  “Nevertheless,” he told her as he pulled a clean T-shirt from a dresser drawer, “I can’t ravish you again until I feed you, so I’m going to address the oversight.”

  And then he was gone, padding in his bare feet out to the kitchen. A light flipped on from outside the bedroom, making her realize how dim it had been before. She listened to him opening cabinets and drawers. Dishes and pans dinged against the granite countertop.

  She should be flattered he wanted to take care of her this way, and she was. They hadn’t eaten in hours, and her stomach growled at the idea of food.

  But even as she slid from his bed to find her suite and change, April wondered if by sleeping with him she’d made a mistake she couldn’t recover from. He was related to her case, and she would have to formally disclose her relationship with him to her boss. That was a professional line she’d never crossed, and that was only the beginning of her misgivings about being with Weston.

  What concerned her more was how tender she felt in the aftermath. Not just her body, although her lips were swollen from kissing and a few places felt the sweet abrasion of a whisker burn. There was a rawness in her chest that made her wary. A sensitivity that she had no business feeling after being with him just once.

  As she closed the door to her suite behind her and dialed on the shower in the bathroom, she hoped that the hot water would help her recover herself. Because no matter what happened in Montana with Weston this week, she had a life to return to in Denver. A complicated, messy existence vastly different from the one she’d tried on like a new dress while she worked at Mesa Falls Ranch.

  It would be tough enough to walk away from this far more glamourous life that Weston inhabited. She couldn’t make it any harder on herself by developing an attachment to him that would never survive the real world.

  * * *

  It had been so much more than just sex.

  The thought kept returning to Weston’s mind, and he kept ignoring it, not ready to think about what had just happened with April. Instead, he breathed in the cooking scents, the earthy sweetness of locally sourced homemade corn tortillas taking him back to his childhood in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The tortillas he rolled now hadn’t been made by his abuela Rosa, like the ones of his youth, but the hint of corn was fragrant enough to transport him to his grandmother’s kitchen just the same.

  He’d only recently discovered a joy in cooking of all things, an interest his father would surely rank with basket weaving for its usefulness to a rancher’s life. But ranching was only one step in putting food on a table. Cooking came next. And something about the sensory experience of chopping and dicing, sautéing and simmering, helped to settle his thoughts when they were churning too fast. Like now, in the aftermath of that incredible encounter with April. He needed a distraction to keep him grounded. Prevent him from overthinking everything that was happening between him and the sexy financial forensics investigator.

  Covering the enchiladas in the skillet, he set the small table in the breakfast nook for them. He liked the proximity to the big stone fireplace that was open on one side to the living room and on the other to the kitchen.

  Hearing the subtle shudder of pipes that meant the water was being shut off in the guest bath, Weston found his thoughts turning back to April. Straightening the white stoneware plate on its woven gray place mat, he tried not to think about her stepping naked out of the shower.

  He failed spectacularly.

  Damn, but she was breathtaking.

  He’d never lost himself so thoroughly being with a woman, and it rattled him. He needed to stay focused on protecting Mesa Falls Ranch from whatever fresh hell was going to rain down on them once April closed her case. Not just for himself, but for all the owners, who had invested more than just their income in the property. The six of them had bought into a dream when they’d purchased the land and turned it into a profitable working ranch. The place wasn’t some sentimental way to remember Zach, although that had been part of it at the beginning.

  It was a means of giving back. A way to live with the guilt that came from being successful in the world when Zach had lost the chance to become the man he was destined to be. Mesa Falls Ranch was a model of green ranching and land management. The property showcased responsible grazing techniques that resulted in a better ecosystem and healthier environment. They’d poured in capital to do things the right way, and now they were investing in marketing initiatives to inspire and educate.

  Not because any of them were inherently altruistic guys. But because Zach’s memory had become their social conscience. And Weston would do anything necessary to protect that.

  Thinking about his fellow owners, he remembered that Gage had texted him while he was at Fallon’s earlier. He’d been so preoccupied with April at the time he hadn’t checked the message. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and slid the case onto the kitchen counter, scrolling through his notifications. Finding the text from a few hours ago, he double clicked to open the window.

  Tabloid reporter left two messages asking for comment on what Alonzo was like as teacher/friend. I have not returned calls, but most recent voice mail implied she’s going to visit Mesa Falls. Call me.

  Shit.

  Weston stabbed the phone icon to connect with Gage. His friend picked up on the first ring.

  “We’ve got a situation here, Rivera,” he said without preamble. There was some noise behind him that sounded like an evening news broadcast before the volume lowered and was quiet. “We need to meet.”

  “Because of this reporter?” Weston listened for sounds from the guest suite. For now, April’s door remained closed.

  Not that his call was a secret, but he didn’t want to seem inattentive. He regretted leaving their bed so quickly, but he’d wanted to make her dinner.

  “She called Desmond and your brother too,” Gage informed him, referring to Desmond Pierce, a casino resort owner who held a stake in Mesa Falls. “She hasn’t contacted you?”

  “What’s the name?”

  “Elena.” Gage cursed softly. “Why the hell didn’t you answer me sooner? We need to get on top of this.”

  Weston bit down the urge to remind him he’d tried to tell Gage the same thing the day before in regard to April. And where had he heard that reporter’s name before? Elena sounded familiar.

  “I’m aware of that,” Weston said simply, giving the sauce a stir before returning the lid to the skillet. �
��Might I remind you I’m handling our other PR crisis in the form of the financial investigator?” Guilt rose at his divided alliances, his gaze returning to the guest suite door.

  Still closed.

  “Right.” Gage paused a moment, and Weston could hear ice cubes clinking like he was taking a drink. “How’s that going? Is she finding out anything?”

  “We’re in Kalispell to interview Aunt Fallon.”

  It took Gage an extra second to reply. “We?”

  He ground his teeth together.

  “Yes, damn it. We can’t afford to have the backlash from Alonzo catch us unaware.” He paced away from the range into the living area to distance himself from the guest suite, knowing April would be out soon. “So do me a favor and manage the reporter for me while I keep an eye on things here.”

  “That’s just the problem,” Gage shot back. “Elena is about to be your problem too. I’m staring at an Instagram profile for Elena Rollins, and it shows her at LAX with a ticket to Missoula in her hand and a promise to her fans that she’s ‘tracking a scoop.’”

  The muscles in Weston’s shoulders knotted so tight he had to knead one with his free hand. “Then someone else needs to come to the ranch and run interference.” He paced around the living room, trying to loosen the muscle as a dull ache thudded in his head. “I can’t put out all the fires when we’ve got threats coming from every side since Tabitha Barnes decided to unmask Alonzo in front of the cameras.”

  “I’m calling a meeting. On-site.” Gage’s words surprised him. The investors rarely got together, preferring to leave operations to Weston.

  Perhaps preferring to forget about the past they shared too.

  “When were you thinking?” Weston knew he ought to be grateful that the other owners were going to finally put their heads together about the Alonzo Salazar mess. But part of him resented the intrusion on what little time he had left with April before she closed her investigation.

  “This weekend. I’ve got a new public relations director I can tap to put together an event on short notice. Something to deflect public attention from scandalmongers, or at the very least, make the trip serve a good cause.”