by Alison Kent
“Do you want me out of your bed?”
She shook her head. “I thought I did. That’s why I came looking for you.”
“What? When?”
“That day at Lasko’s. I was hoping you might be there. I wanted to get you out of my system.”
“I didn’t know you came looking for me. Or that I was in your system.”
“Since high school.”
“Huh. Why didn’t we hook up then?”
“Because you didn’t know I existed.”
“I knew you existed.”
“No, you knew Hoyt Poole had a daughter who practically lived with him in the Buck Off Bar.”
“You’re right.”
“Of course I am.”
“Are you going to have sex with me now?”
One. Track. Mind. She shook her head. “I’ve got to get back to the saloon.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s what I do.”
“I really think you should do me instead. Look.” He moved her fingers to his fly and held her there, filling her hand, so thick and ready, and she squeezed because she couldn’t not.
“We’re in the bed of my truck,” she told him, as if it wasn’t obvious, as if it would make any difference.
“Then it counts as a bed.”
“It’s metal and it’s hot, not to mention uncomfortable.”
“You get on top.”
“Sacrificing for the cause?”
“It’s my cause.”
She glanced around the ranch yard, her pulse racing, her head spinning. “Where’re Boone and Casper?”
“Boone chased Casper into the barn awhile ago. I grabbed the ax as he went by.”
“What?” she asked, unable to stop the gasp or the laughter that followed.
“They’re fine. I’m not.” He laid back, unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his fly, tugged his jeans and his briefs to his knees. Then he grabbed his cock and stroked. “Look at all this meat. Yours for the taking. Just come to papa.”
Oh, she was tempted, her mouth going dry as she watched him fist the juicy ripe head of his cock. She licked her lips, cast a glance toward the barn. The thought of getting caught had her heart beating faster. And she wouldn’t have to get completely naked…
Damn him for being impossible to resist. She pulled up one foot, tugged off one boot, undid her jeans and slid one leg free. Then she crawled toward him, her bare ass in the air, and kissed his cock the way she’d been dying to.
He was sweaty and hot and tasted like salt when she sucked him into her mouth. His skin was tight and slick, the slit in the head open and wet. She tongued him, caught the ridge of his glans with her lips and held tight before lifting up to release him.
His groan nearly rattled the truck on its wheels. “Do that again.”
She did, then once more before dragging her tongue down the underside of his shaft and between his balls. He sucked in a breath and bucked upwards and she added one hand to the mix, ringing his shaft, hefting his sac, slipping lower and teasing his ass.
“You keep that up, you’re going to get in trouble one of these days,” he said, grinding against her fingers.
“Or one of these days you’re going to admit you enjoy it.”
“I wouldn’t be giving you access if I didn’t enjoy it.”
That had her grinning, and crawling up his body.
“Wait,” he said, pushing to sit and scooting to lean against the wheel well. Then he patted his lap, clenching muscles so that his cock waggled.
She rolled her eyes, making her way over to straddle him, her knees at his knees, then his thighs, then his hips. He held her and brought her forward. She settled her hands on his shoulders and waited for the prodding head of his cock.
He guided himself into place, and still she waited. Anticipation—along with the fact that they were in her truck in the middle of the yard—had her blood running hot beneath her skin.
She was electric and on fire and he slid his cock’s head through her folds, spreading her moisture, opening her. Once in position, he set his hands on her hips at the crease of her thigh and pushed her down. He kept pushing until she was completely impaled and she held all of him inside and neither one of them could move.
He held her gaze, his jaw tight as he gave her a big bad wolf grin. “Now, isn’t this nice? Fresh air and sunshine and a big ol’ cock buried to the hilt inside of you?”
It was, but he didn’t have to know that. She rose up on her knees, lowered her hips slowly, watched the tic in his jaw pop. “Or maybe it’s nice to have that big ol’ cock buried to the hilt in something as juicy and hot as I am?”
“That’s not even a question.” He gave a little grunt and a little upward thrust of his hips. “You gotta know I’ve never had it this good.”
Something close to her heart flipped and landed hard, jolting her. “That’s your overlong experiment with celibacy talking.”
“It wasn’t an experiment.” He placed his palms on the truck bed, used them to brace himself as he fucked her. Then he stopped, closing his eyes and dropping his head back. “It was a case of not giving a shit.”
“About sex? You?”
“Hard to imagine, I know. But there ya have it.”
He thrust again and she rode him, grinding her clit against the base of his shaft in a smooth figure eight.
“I love the way you do that.”
She was still stuck on his not giving a shit about sex. “Were you working someplace where it wasn’t easy to get away?”
“When?”
“When you weren’t having sex.”
“There was some of that. At the end of a hard day, that hour drive to town could be put to better use sleeping. And it’s not like I’d lost the use of my right hand.”
“As much as you love sex, it’s hard to imagine you going without.”
“I love sex because I’m having it with you.”
“So if it had been Amy or Callie or Luck who’d delivered Bubba Taylor’s lunch to Lasko’s that day?”
“I might’ve given each of them a go, but I would’ve always been waiting for you.”
She couldn’t take it anymore. The things he was saying… The words cut into her, split her open, poured themselves into the gash and spread. He took her over. He became part of her, his hands, his cock. His heart.
She opened her mouth over his and loved him, breathing against him, into him, as she caught him tight, pulling up, pushing down, gripping and milking.
He tongued her, bit her, groaned into her mouth until neither of them had words or knew anything but the hot hard slide of his cock and her cunt. He slipped his hands beneath her shirt and up her back. She used her hands looped around his neck to pull his head to her chest. He buried his face between her breasts, nuzzling, the grunts and groans coming out of his mouth muffled by the fabric.
She was going to come, and she wanted him to see, and she threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled his head away, holding his gaze, catching at her bottom lip with her teeth as light fired in his eyes.
The up and down motion took her closer, the friction heated her flesh. The moisture slick between them was warm and felt so damn good. She blew out quick sharp breaths. Dax did the same. And never once did they break eye contact, even when the waves of orgasm left them shaking.
Minutes later, Dax was the first to smile, his chest heaving as a grin broke wickedly across his face. “So you really thought you’d be able to get me out of your system, did you?”
Boy, if that wasn’t the question of the day.
TWENTY-EIGHT
NEVER IN HER life had Darcy had trouble falling asleep until the last few nights in Josh’s bed. It was a big bed, a roomy king with a high ceiling above and a fan lazily stirring the air. The sheets were soft, the pillows abundant, and everything was neat and earthy and warm.
She was safe, cared for, provided for—and all of it on Josh’s dime. He cooked and cleaned. He refused to take money for groceries or rent. He insisted she sl
eep in his bed while he bunked on the couch. All of that, and he hadn’t asked her for as much as a kiss, leaving her to remember the feel of his body, the touch of his mouth and his hands.
The words he’d spoken. Over and over, his words.
I’m not going to rush the very sweet pleasure of loving you.
With all he’d done for her, she wasn’t going to press the point. And maybe he was right. She hadn’t exactly been at her best since him telling her he wanted to see her. The last thing she wanted was to make a mistake she would never be able to fix. He was a good friend. She didn’t want to lose that.
That didn’t mean she had to be patient while waiting. Or that she wouldn’t push when the time felt right to her.
She didn’t know how to be a bystander, how to be passive when there was work to be done. She was antsy with all this being at loose ends since The Campbell had sent her walking, but tomorrow that would change. His condition hadn’t worsened or improved. There was still no word from her mother. And Dax’s idea of being supportive was a joke.
She hadn’t yet gone by the office to see how Greg was faring, but that was on the morning’s agenda. Campbell and Associates had been at the center of her life for as long as she could remember. She couldn’t bear to think of the firm struggling, or going under simply because The Campbell wasn’t there to throw his weight around.
But first she needed to sleep, at least for a few hours, and a glass of milk seemed just the thing. Wearing yoga pants and a tank top for pajamas, she slid from between the sheets and crossed her fingers she could get to the kitchen and back without waking Josh.
She could tell a lamp was burning in the living area, but it wasn’t until she came around the dividing wall that she saw Josh wasn’t asleep at all but using the lamp to read. He was sitting in the recliner, his socked feet crossed on the coffee table. He wore a pair of gray sweatpants and a faded orange T-shirt with a chipped white UT longhorn logo on the front.
When she stopped, he raised his eyes from the page to her, but didn’t speak or move. He was like that in everything, so watchful, so discerning, observant, still. She hated disturbing the peace he’d found, but it was too late to back out of the room unseen. And so she came closer, gesturing over her shoulder toward the kitchen. “I couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d get some milk.”
“There’s a new gallon. Help yourself.”
“Do you want anything?”
He inclined his head toward the lamp table beside him and the highball glass with nothing left but ice. “I’m set.”
She circled the sofa, leaned her elbows on the back. “I may not be around tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to go into the office in the morning,” she said, not sure why telling him of her plans caused the butterflies in her stomach to jolt.
“That so?” Simple. No judgment.
She judged herself instead. “I guess it sounds crazy, huh?”
“Since you were fired, yeah. A bit.”
“I just want to make sure Greg’s doing okay.” And why did she feel this need to explain herself to Josh? This was her life, her business. Not his—though she was the one making it so.
He turned down the corner of the page he was reading, closed the book, and moved it from his lap to the table. Then he asked her, “Why?”
“He’s had the firm’s entire caseload dumped on him,” she said, circling the couch and curling into the far corner. “That’s a hell of a lot of work.”
“He gets paid to handle it, doesn’t he?”
More than she ever did, no doubt. “I suppose, but—”
“Darcy, you’re going to have to let it go.”
“Let what go?” Was he talking about the firm? And was he kidding?
“You walked out. I’m not even talking about you being fired. You walked out.”
“I know that.”
And then, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, he asked, “Why would you go back?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because nothing about why you walked has changed.”
That stopped her cold. She wanted to argue that he couldn’t know that because she didn’t know that. She hadn’t visited the office since her firing, or even been back to the mansion on the hill. For all she knew, The Campbell, until stopped in his tracks by his illness, had been waiting to toast her return to the fold with open arms and a bottle of Glenlivet.
Except that would never happen. Any of it. Even if The Campbell recovered. And the knowledge gave credence to Josh’s words. “It’s not going to change, is it? If I hadn’t walked then, I would’ve walked later.”
Josh moved his feet to the floor and sat forward. “This isn’t about you, Darcy. This is on your father and his views, his opinions.”
“He doesn’t have a very high one of me,” she said with a snort.
“I don’t think he has an opinion of anyone but himself. His needs and his wants are the only things that matter to him. He’s a narcissist. Trying to make him happy won’t do anything but make you miserable.”
“So far that’s exactly how it’s been.”
“Then do for yourself, whatever you want to do. Take the time to figure it out. You’ve got it.”
She plucked at the fringe edging the throw she’d pulled over her lap. “Growing up, I wanted more than anything to be a social worker. I saw how involved my mother was in helping children who didn’t have any of the advantages Dax and I did. But now I wonder if any of that was real either. If I wasn’t trying to please her the same way I tried to please The Campbell by becoming a lawyer.”
He didn’t say anything, just looked at her, and she felt embarrassingly exposed. “I’m sorry. I’m usually not this pathetic.”
“You’re not pathetic at all, sweetheart. You’re human and you’re hurt.”
She looked up, unable to stop the overwhelming sadness from welling in her eyes. She gave a small laugh, not wanting the emotion to ruin the rest of the night. “So what’s it like to grow up in a normal family?”
His mouth twisted, and he shook his head. “What makes you think any family is normal?”
He made it easy to smile. “I guess you’re right. We deal with what we have.”
“Or we make our own.”
“Our own families?”
He got up then, came to where she was sitting, cocking one leg beneath him and facing her. “Sure. Folks re-create what they’ve known because it’s the best support system they’ve ever had. Or they dump what they have and replace it with what they know works.”
“You’re talking about relationships.” She heard what she’d said and heat rushed her skin. God, could she have made this any more awkward? “I don’t mean us, or you and Jane, I mean… like Dax turning to Boone and Casper instead of coming home.”
He braced an elbow on the sofa’s back, reached for a lock of her hair. “Friendship makes the best basis for a relationship of any kind.”
Now he was talking about them. She was certain of it. And since she was already embarrassed and the lights were low and he’d told her to figure out what she wanted from life…
“Why did you tell me that you wanted to see me?”
His hand stroking her hair stopped, started again. “Because I do.”
“But why me? We hardly knew each other before… this. We never talked. I only saw you at the office with your dad.”
“That’s your version of things, and that’s okay.”
Her version? “I don’t get it.”
“We’ve both lived in Crow Hill all our lives.”
“Okay…”
“When you were in kindergarten. I was in third grade. Our classes had the same hour for recess. One day on the playground, you were upside down, hanging by your knees on the monkey bars—”
“And I fell!” God, she hadn’t thought about that day in ages. “Flat on my back. I had the wind knocked out of me and scraped the crap out of my bottom.”
“I don’t know ab
out your bottom, but I do know you were wearing a red plaid skirt and white panties, and I ran as fast as I could to the nurse’s office.” He was looking at her hair now, wrapping the strand he held around his finger.
“I can’t believe you know what I was wearing. Or that you ran for the nurse.”
He gave a nod, lost in the memory, a smile softening the corners of his mouth. “Principal Cayman tried to grab me as I came through the door but I twisted away. Then I dodged Coach Cuellar and Miss Lark.”
“Really?” she asked, her heart hammering. Why was he telling her this? Why had he even remembered?
“Yep,” he said, his smile going wide. “All three of them were on my heels when I slammed into Nurse Beeman. She’d heard the racket and was coming out into the hall. I just kept saying your name and pointing out the doors. By that time, one of the recess monitors had made it inside. They paid attention to her. I got two days of detention.”
Oh, my God! “Because of me?”
“Because I didn’t know what else to do. You weren’t breathing. I was scared out of my shorts.” He pulled his gaze from her hair, moved his focus to her face. His mouth grew harder, a tight line holding in things she was certain he wasn’t ready to say. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
She reached up, pressed her thumb to his lips. “I was scared, too. And I can’t believe you did that for me. That you were there.”
He kissed her thumb, moved her hand to his chest and held it over his heart. “I’ve been here all this time.”
But he hadn’t been. “You married Jane.”
“You were in law school. I didn’t think you’d come back. And I thought I could find with her what I wanted to make with you.”
If she’d known… “But she left you. She cheated on you.”
“I wasn’t the husband I should’ve been.”
“Oh, Josh,” she said, and then she climbed up to straddle his lap, taking his face in her hands as he settled her on his hips. She knew he would tell her the time wasn’t right to take their relationship forward, even though his body beneath her was saying otherwise, but he had to know what his caring meant to her. “I wish I’d known… all of it. Everything. Our lives could’ve been so much different.”
