True Heart: A Red Hot Winter Story

by Delilah Devlin

  “Just wanted to know what kind of person we’d let onto our property.” Damn, he was getting good at lying.

  “She’s nice, True. Sweet.”

  “You talking her personality or her flavor?”

  Lonny shook his head then turned toward the door. “I’m gonna grab a bite. Later.”

  The door slammed shut, leaving True alone. The book lay face down, Honey Cahill’s smiling face turned toward him. The picture wasn’t her. It looked airbrushed. Her hair was darker in the black-and-white photo, and her smile looked forced.

  He picked it up again, settled deeper in his chair and fought the erection burgeoning between his thighs as he read on. Did Honey like the kiss of leather branding her ass?

  He remembered that sweet ass, those two dimples peeking from under her sweater. It was round and firm. Her skin was pale cream. He imagined his hand spread over a cheek, imagined lifting it to strike her soft skin. He’d leave thick rows of pink.

  Would her pussy melt? Would she moan, her breathy cries rising into a crescendo?

  If he had a mind to, could he even give her what she needed to be happy?

  Foolish thoughts given the fact she’d be gone as soon the season changed. Still, the thought of spending a few nights in her bed, spending his frustrations and disappointments while he stroked her to satisfaction, tantalized.

  He wondered about that massage Lonny had hinted at. How far out of hand had it gotten? Not that the thought of taking her, even if his brother had already been there, should really matter.

  It wasn’t like he wanted her in his life forever. The memory of her gaze landing on his cock for those long seconds while she’d lain sprawled at his feet teased him. Maybe he should stop by to see her.

  He wouldn’t be the one to make the first move. He’d let her actions, her expressions, tell him whether she wanted him. But then what? True cussed softly and picked up the book, looking for clues for how to please a worldly woman like Honey Cahill.

  Chapter Three

  The next day, Honey sat at the kitchen table, her fingers flying over the keys. Ever since she’d awoken that morning, she’d been filled with so much energy and ideas her fingers couldn’t type fast enough to keep up. And good Lord, the images…

  The story she’d begun had taken a decided turn. A delicious one. Sure, she’d explored the BDSM lifestyle, visited dungeons, interviewed Doms and subs, but this story wasn’t about “what” the characters were doing. It was all about who they were.

  This story felt natural, real…maybe because the heroine was every bit as conflicted emotionally as she was. Her own stirrings were seeping into the pages…a woman torn between her attraction for two men and bittersweet memories of the past. And since this was her book, her imagination, she released the reins and let it happen…on the page.

  She wondered what Lonny would think when he read her book a couple of years from now. Would he recognize himself and his brother? She imagined he’d be thrilled and amused. But how would True feel?

  The whine of an engine sounded from outside. She blinked away the haze she’d existed in since she’d started working, pulling free of the eroticism that had kept her body warm and her pulse thrumming.

  She hurried to the coffee pot, listening as the engine quieted, and quickly refilled the pot with water, the basket with grounds. When it began to drip, she headed toward the door just as the heavy tread of footsteps approached it.

  She swung the door open, and then stepped back, surprised because it was True. He held his hat between his hands. He’d cleaned up since yesterday. His clothes were tidy, his scent was fresh.

  Inside, she melted just a little because she knew he’d gone to some effort, interrupted his routine to make an impression. It had worked. Her mouth dried in an instant as she looked him over. He was every bit as dark, as brooding as he had been yesterday, but today there was a hint of something else in his watchful gaze.

  She stepped aside and waved him in without a word.

  He stepped over the threshold and cleared his throat.

  Was he nervous? Should she be? She felt only a stirring of happiness inside.

  “I read your book.” He blurted it—like the words were poison he had to rid himself of or choke.

  Happiness was certainly fleeting. Her back stiffened. “Not to your taste, I take it?”

  “It wasn’t like anything I’d ever read,” he said, his tone as surly as ever.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, her face heating with embarrassment. Her stories were a reflection of her own yearnings, even when exaggerated as that particular book’s had been. Anger slowly burned, because he’d managed to put her on the defensive, and she didn’t think she deserved it. She worked damn hard to make a living at writing. She wouldn’t apologize for the fact she’d found a way to keep food on the table.

  “I take it you don’t approve.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  His eyebrows drew together in a fierce frown. “Because I wanted to know if you’d like to go out with me.”

  Surprise made her lift her chin. “Because what you read excited you? Do you want to tie me up? Spank me, maybe?”

  His face turned crimson. “I want a lot of things, but those aren’t top on my list.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “I’m not sure I like you.”

  “You don’t know me,” he growled.

  “And you think you know me because of what you read?”

  A ripple of tension tightened his jaw. “I read it because I wanted to know what it is you do—so we’d have something to talk about.”

  “You want to talk about dungeons and titty clamps?” God, had she really said that? She swallowed hard, feeling heat creep across her own cheeks.

  His head canted, his gaze swept her face. “Are you always this uptight?”

  She realized she was equally at fault for the fact this wasn’t going well. The last thing she wanted was for him to stomp out the door in anger. They hadn’t made the best start yesterday. Today’s fiasco could spell doom for the rest of the winter.

  She dropped her arms and strove for a less militant expression. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  His nod was crisp. His mouth crimped. She wondered if he didn’t speak because he was afraid he’d stick another boot inside his mouth, and that thought made her smile.

  His frown deepened, his gaze dropping briefly to her mouth. Then he looked away—at the ceiling. Was he counting to ten?

  “I promise I’m not that scary,” she said softly.

  His gaze slid back. “I apologize for jumping down your throat yesterday. I was angry.”

  “Because of me?” she drawled, beginning to enjoy the fact that his gruffness was apparently due to his uneasiness around her. Maybe he didn’t get out much.

  “Yeah,” he said, then shook his head. “No. Because you’re a woman.”

  “You wanted me to be a man?”

  “Yes,” he bit out, and then snorted. “No. Dammit.”

  She couldn’t help it, she laughed. His glower deepened even further. “True, I’m sorry too. But there’s something about you that brings out the ornery in me.”

  His expression lost a little tension. “I guess I’m out of practice,” he said, more slowly this time, as though trying to pick his words carefully.

  “Out of practice with what?”

  “Talking to women.”

  “Let me guess. You stay holed up on this ranch most of the time, with only men, right?”

  He nodded, seemingly relieved he didn’t have to explain himself.

  Honey stepped closer. “Let’s make a deal. I promise not to take offense the next time you bark at me, and you’ll try not to.” She held out her hand.

  He eyed it for a moment then raised his. “Dammit.” He tugged off his glove and took her hand, holding it gently inside his. His gaze rose to meet hers again, this time not as hard.

  Her pulse leapt at that light
touch. How intriguing. “I promise I’m not fragile.”

  He squeezed a little and pumped it up and down.

  She laughed again.

  This time the corners of his mouth twitched. “You always this forward with men?”

  “You’ve read me. There’s not a lot that shocks me.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’d be much obliged for that cup of coffee now.”

  She eased her hand from his, immediately missing the warmth. To hide the feelings swamping her, she turned to walk to the kitchenette and busied herself with cups and pouring coffee.

  “I like mine black,” he said from right behind her. He set his hat on the countertop.

  “Good thing,” she said evenly although her heart was tripping faster. “Because I didn’t bring any creamer or sugar with me.”

  With the coffee poured, they stood beside the counter, both leaning their hips against it, as they quietly sipped from steaming mugs.

  “What are you working on?” True asked. “Lonny said you were here to finish a book.”

  She sighed. “I was having trouble with my original idea. It felt forced. So I decided I needed a change of scenery. A friend of mine put me in touch with Leroy, but you know where that led.”

  “Too bad about the fire.”

  She let a little smile curve her lips. “I’m thinking it wasn’t such a bad turn of events. For me, anyway.”

  “Really?”

  “The story…” She shrugged. “It’s coming now. It’s not the same one I started, but I like how it’s changed.”

  “What’s it about?”

  She blushed.

  He studied her expression. “I’d ask, but I don’t quite know how to.”

  “Without making us both blush, you mean?” She laughed. “Guess I can tell you. You’re in it. Or at least someone like you is in it.”

  He snorted, but one side of his mouth quirked. “Should I be worried?”

  “Only if the thought of a threesome makes you cringe.”

  His cup halted just in front of his mouth and he blinked. “A threesome?” he asked, his tone casual. However the glint in his eye was anything but.

  She turned away, walking toward the table and her laptop, nervously closing the lid and searching for a way to explain without letting him know just how much she’d been thinking about it. “I usually write about a couple exploring their sexuality—breaking taboos to find out what they need from their intimate lives. This time, I have a heroine, Helen, who’s attracted to two men. Brothers.” She glanced up to see how her words had affected him.

  His eyes narrowed. “Can I assume Lonny and I are the inspiration?” At her nod, he frowned. However, it wasn’t an angry look. He looked as though he was trying to find the right words to ask another question.

  “Okay,” she blurted. “I’m attracted. To both of you. You’re both so different—personality-wise. But alike in the way you look. It got me thinking—doing the what-if game—because I was stuck for an idea. I hope you aren’t offended.”

  “Why should I be?”

  “Because I patterned the characters after you and Lonny.”

  “It’s not like it’s ever gonna happen. It’s just a story.”

  Disappointment, sharp and bitter, flooded her—which surprised her, because she hadn’t thought far enough ahead to really wonder about the possibility—but now that particular door was closed. Firmly too, if his expression was anything to go by.

  She cleared her throat. “I’m glad…that you aren’t offended.”

  He set aside his coffee cup. “What about my question?”

  “About us going out?” At his nod, she stalled. Making up her mind to have casual sex with Lonny hadn’t made her this unsure. “Can we? I thought the roads are closed.”

  “I came to invite you to the ranch house. To have dinner at my place. I’ll cook.”

  “You cook?”

  “I do a lot of things that might please you.”

  That was his first blatant come-on, and he managed not to garble it. She suspected that he’d been thinking about saying that line, maybe even practiced it.

  Inside, she felt that melting heat flicker into flame again. “I’d like that.”

  “About Lonny…”

  She stiffened, remembering she had a problem. “What about him?”

  “Are you going to tell him?”

  “Tell him what?”

  “That you’re taken.”

  She blinked. “Taken? You mean claimed like a prize?”

  “I don’t want to step on his toes, but he did offer you to me. I don’t think he’ll mind.”

  “He offered me?” Her eyebrows shot up.

  “Don’t get your back up,” True said, impatience in his tone. “That’s not how it was. And remember, we had a deal.”

  “I said I wouldn’t take offense if you barked, but you expect me not to take offense when you and your brother talked about me? Divvied me up like a piece of property?”

  He sighed. “Look, you’re mad. I better leave. I’ll be back later to pick you up.”

  “And you think I’ll still want to come?”

  “Don’t you?” He stepped closer, crowding her against the counter. “Don’t you want to be with me?” His hands cupped her hips, not a tentative grip at all. He pulled her against him and then bent his head.

  She leaned away, her gaze searching his expression. “You take a lot for granted,” she gritted out.

  “I saw the way you looked at me yesterday. Where you looked. You’re interested.”

  “And you’re crude, True Wyatt.”

  “Only bein’ honest. I think we’d be good together and it’s gonna be a long winter.”

  His mouth came down, and she stopped trying to defy him. Pride wasn’t going to get her what she wanted. And he was right. She wanted him.

  She reached up, smoothed her hands over his shoulders and sank her fingers in his hair and tugged it, bringing him closer.

  When their lips met, she felt another fundamental difference between True and his brother. Lonny’s kiss had been hot, enticing. True’s made her tremble, head to toe. He pulled her lust from her core, as ruthlessly efficient at kissing as everything else.

  His firm mouth glided over hers, rubbing twice before he opened and tugged her bottom lip between his. He bit.

  She gasped—and he swooped inside, growling, the sound vibrating through her. Their torsos slammed together, her soft breasts crushed against a wall of muscle. Her nipples prickled, tightening instantly, and she moaned into his mouth.

  His hands slid down to cup her ass, and he lifted her. She opened her legs, wrapping them around his waist, riding his long, hard ridge.

  He leaned her against the counter as he rutted, driving his denim-covered cock between her legs, burning her sex with friction until she writhed wildly, rubbing her breasts and pussy against him, doing everything he’d allow while locked inside his embrace.

  He turned his head, breaking the kiss. He dragged in deep breaths while she did the same.

  “Be ready,” he whispered.

  Then he pushed her legs to the floor and stepped back. Palming his groin, he adjusted himself while his dark expression roamed her face and body.

  She gripped the counter behind her, hoping the trembling would stop so she wouldn’t sink to the floor because he was already turning away. Leaving her. When she’d been that close…

  “Bastard,” she whispered.

  He didn’t look back. “Been called that before. But I’m guessin’ that’s what you need.”

  She blinked, and then a lop-sided smile tugged up one corner of her mouth.

  He reached the door, slammed his hat on his head and turned for one last glance. When he saw her smile, a rueful grin stretched his own mouth. He shut the door quietly on the way out.

  Honey walked on air to the table, flipped up her screen then sighed. She could hardly wait to begin the next chapter.

  Lonny heard a strange sound coming from the far sid
e of the paddock where True had said he’d be working to repair rails that had loosened. Someone was whistling.

  And since they were the only people on this side of the mountain, he knew it had to be his brother. Bemused, he rounded the corner of the barn to find True lifting a new board into a slot.

  “Someone sounds happy.”

  The whistling stopped. True aimed a glare over his shoulder.

  Okay, that was the brother he recognized. “Need help?”

  “Got it handled,” True said, reaching into a pocket of his coat and coming out with nails. He hammered the first into the wood, his motion sure—but his expression was thoughtful.

  “You finish that book?” Lonny asked, pretending only idle curiosity.

  “Didn’t need to.”

  “Have her all figured out already?”

  True grunted.

  Suspicious, Lonny looked off to the ridge that divided the ranch for the high meadow. “I was thinkin’ about paying her a visit.”

  “No need to.”

  “And you know that because you’ve already seen her?”

  “As a matter of fact, yeah.” True turned to face him.

  By his expression, Lonny surmised he had something to say. “You did more than check on her, didn’t you?”

  “I don’t kiss and tell.”

  Lonny grinned. “But you did kiss her. Tastes sweet, doesn’t she?”

  True’s expression hardened. “Find some other fuck buddy to mess around with.”

  Didn’t take him long to figure out just the right words. “Took my advice, I see.”

  True hammered in another long nail between his fingers and lifted the hammer. “She’s coming over for dinner.”

  “Want me to make myself scarce?”

  “Would you if I asked?”

  “Not a chance. This I have to see.”

  True grabbed the top of the board and pushed to test the strength of his repair, then moved along to the next board.

  Lonny picked up an end and fit it into the groove on the next post.

  “You don’t mind me cuttin’ in?” True asked too casual for it to be real.

  “Sure I do. But I’m not near as interested in her as you are.”

  “She said something today. Wondered if she’d mentioned it to you.”