Red-Hot Texas Nights

by Kimberly Raye

“And what if he doesn’t?” He voiced the one fear that nagged at him. That his brother would really and truly throw it all away. Just like their dad.

  That Tyler would bust his own ass and do the same in Cheyenne.

  “He will. You just need to give it some time. Trust me, my sister has made her fair share of mistakes, but she might finally be getting her act together. Just last night she swore to break up with her latest boyfriend face-to-face and straightforward. Talk about being spared six months of stalking.”

  The wind trembled the bushes to her right. “And maybe not.” She grabbed Tyler’s arm and pulled him inside before sticking her head back out and yelling, “She’s not here. She had an all-nighter at the clinic.” The bushes trembled again and the sound of footsteps echoed and faded into the grumble of an engine.

  “That should get rid of him for a while,” she said, turning back to Tyler.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t make it back to the apartment that night,” he heard himself say before he could think better of it. “I shouldn’t have left you high and dry.”

  She shrugged. “You changed your mind. It’s fine.”

  “I didn’t change anything. I still want this.” His gaze collided with hers. “I want you.” And then he did what he’d wanted to do ever since she opened the door: He pulled her close and covered her mouth with his.

  * * *

  Sex, Brandy told herself, throwing herself into the single act of kissing Tyler McCall, desperate to ignore the strange feelings that had assailed her the moment she’d found him standing on her doorstep next to the old dusty swing where her parents had sat every Friday night.

  One look at the rickety wood and she’d had the sudden vision of herself, barefoot and pregnant, rocking back and forth, Tyler next to her, no cakes or cookies in sight.

  Like hell.

  No matter how good he kissed. Or how he pulled her close and rubbed the base of her spine with his thumb until she wanted to melt onto her back and purr. Or how he held her close, his arms solid and strong and possessive, as if she actually meant more to him than a few moments of pleasure.

  This wasn’t about forever.

  It was about this moment, this kiss, this …

  For the next few moments, she drank in the taste and feel of him, ran her hands up and down his solid arms, relished the ripple of muscle as he cupped her buttocks and pulled her closer, treasured the whisper of joy because they were together one more time. One last time.

  The thought fed her desperation and she held on to him tighter as he rocked her, his hardness pressing into her. Heat flowered low in her belly, spreading from one nerve ending to the next until every inch of her body burned and sizzled like a match just struck.

  She moaned into his mouth, communicating her need in a way that no words could touch. Without breaking the kiss, he swung her into his arms and headed down the hall for the nearest bedroom.

  A few seconds later, her feet touched down in the small room she’d shared with Callie when they were children. Her sister had moved out once their parents had died, and Brandy had repainted the lime green with a bright pink that matched the bakery boxes she used at her shop. Frilly pink curtains framed the two windows that faced the side of the house. It was an ultrafeminine room that made Tyler McCall seem that much more masculine and dangerous by comparison.

  A ripple of excitement went through her and she pressed herself up against him again. Need mounted and multiplied as she clawed at his shirt. He caught her wrists and pulled back, his grin slow and wicked and dangerous.

  “Easy. We’ve got all night, sugar.”

  “I’ve got to be at the bakery early for my apple loaves.”

  “Early as in six or seven?”

  “Four, so you’d better start undressing.” She meant to rip off her clothes and get busy, but then he touched her and her breath caught. Time seemed to stand still as he pulled her close. The hands that slid from her shoulder to her collarbone, and down, were strong and sure and possessive.

  As if he were branding her his and only his.

  Just as the thought struck, he touched the tip of her nipple through the soft fabric of her tee. The ripe tip throbbed in response and she barely caught the whimper that jumped to her lips.

  He pressed a kiss to her lips then, coaxing them open with his tongue before delving deep for a long, heart-pounding moment. “I love every sound that you make,” he murmured when he finally pulled away. “Every gasp. Every whimper. Every cry.”

  He pulled the shirt up and over her head, his hot fingertips grazing her skin, and she forgot everything except the need churning inside her.

  Brandy closed her eyes and tilted her head back, arching her chest forward. She all but screamed at the first stroke of his callused thumb over her bare breast. The next several moments passed in a dizzying blur as he plucked and rolled her sensitive nipples, until they were red and ripe and aching for more.

  He blazed a trail down her rib cage, his palms warm against her stomach. A deep male growl vibrated up his throat when his hands slid into her panties and found her wet and ready. One fingertip parted her swollen flesh and dipped inside.

  She cried out, grabbing his shoulders, clutching fabric as she fought to feel his bare skin against her own.

  He leaned back far enough and let her peel the material up and over his head. She tossed the T-shirt and went for his jeans, but he’d beaten her to the punch, his tanned fingers working at the zipper.

  Metal grated and the jeans sagged onto his hips. He stepped back far enough to push them down and kick them free until he stood before her wearing only a pair of white briefs. He was rock-hard beneath the clingy cotton. A heartbeat later, the full length of him sprang forward, huge and greedy, as he pushed his underwear down and kicked it to the side.

  But it wasn’t the sight of him naked and tanned and fully aroused that took her breath away, it was the heat burning in his gaze, making his eyes brighter and even more translucent. Like a shimmering Caribbean oasis reflecting the hot sun.

  And oh how she wanted to dive in headfirst and hold her breath for as long as possible. Forever.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” she breathed when he made no move to remove her last item of clothing—a pair of skimpy bikini panties decorated with tiny pink polka dots.

  “Soon,” he murmured. He cupped her, his palm warm through the thin covering.

  An ache flowered low in her belly. “Soon isn’t soon enough. I can’t wait, Tyler. I need to feel you.” Anxiety zipped up and down her spine, along with a ripple of fear. “I want to feel you.”

  Because she didn’t want to want him so deeply. So desperately.

  If only she didn’t keep forgetting that all-important fact.

  CHAPTER 32

  He dipped one finger past the elastic, into the steamy heat between her legs. He stroked and teased and a sweet pressure tightened low in her belly. It was the most erotic fizzle of sensation, the most decadent, and it stalled the air in her lungs and made her body burn for something more potent than oxygen.

  A few heartbeats later, he slid his finger into her slowly, tantalizingly, stirring every nerve to vibrant awareness until he was as deep as he could go, and then he withdrew at the same leisurely pace. Advance, retreat.

  Until her heart pounded so hard and her breath came so fast, she thought she would hyperventilate. Or go up in flames. Or both.

  She was close.

  So close …

  “Not yet,” he murmured, withdrawing his hand before dropping to his knees in front of her. “I want to see if you still taste like blueberries.” He touched his mouth to her navel, dipped his tongue inside, and slid his hands around to cup her bottom for a long moment before moving his mouth lower. His tongue dipped under the waistband of her panties. He licked her bare flesh before drawing back to drag his mouth over her lace-covered mound. His lips feathered a kiss over ground zero and her legs buckled. “Mmm,” he murmured, “definitely blueberries.”

  “
Too much talking, not enough tasting,” she managed, her hands going to his bare shoulders to keep her from falling.

  A warm chuckle sent shivers down the inside of her thighs before he lifted his head and caught the waistband of her underwear with one finger. He drew the material down, lips and teeth following the decadent path and skimming her bare flesh. Her entire body trembled by the time she stepped free.

  “My turn,” she managed, determined to give as good as she was getting. So good.

  “I don’t have any underwear on.” He pushed to his feet and faced her.

  “I’ll figure something out.” She knelt and kissed his navel, swirling her tongue and relishing the deep male groan that vibrated the air around them. She grasped him in her hand, running her palm down the length of his erection. He was hot and hard and she did what she’d been wanting to do ever since she’d seen him standing there completely nude. She took him into her mouth and laved him with her tongue. One lick. Two. Until a low hiss issued from between his lips.

  He grasped her head, his fingers splaying in her hair, guiding her, urging her—

  “Stop.” The word was little more than a groan before he pulled her to her feet. “I want to come inside you.” He urged her down onto the bed. “I need to come inside of you.”

  She watched as he withdrew a foil placket from his jean pocket and put on a condom in record time.

  “I thought you wanted slow and easy,” she said as he settled himself between her thighs, his penis pressing into her a decadent inch.

  “It’ll be easy,” he promised, “I’m just not so sure about the slow part.” Before she could comment, he pressed her thighs wider, grasped her hips, and slid into her with one deep thrust.

  He stilled for a long moment, letting her feel every pulsing, vibrating inch of him. Her body reacted the way it always did, holding him deep, tight, massaging him in an intimate way that wrung a gasp from his lips.

  But it wasn’t the connection of their bodies so much as the way he stared down at her, into her, that sent a rush of warmth through her. As if he could see everything about her instead of just her reputation. No one ever looked at her like that and it touched something inside of her.

  She closed her eyes, fighting back the sudden tears that threatened to overwhelm her. This was crazy. This was all about feeling good, not about feeling.

  Sex wasn’t love, and she had no intention of confusing the two. Especially with a man like Tyler. He’d said himself that he didn’t want more.

  “Are you okay?” His voice was soft and deep and so tender she had to fight back another wave of tears.

  She swallowed and forced her voice past the lump in her throat. “Stop talking and just fuck me, cowboy.”

  His mouth opened at her bold words and she thought he was going to make a smart comeback, but then he dipped his head and his lips closed over her nipple. Thankfully. She needed a distraction from the strange feelings threatening to overwhelm her.

  All thought faded into a wave of delicious pressure as he suckled her with enough force to wind her even tighter while his erection pulsed inside her. The sensation of him drawing on her breast while her body milked him was a double whammy and oh, so potent.

  He moved, pumping into her, pushing her higher—stroke after stroke—until she cried out, her nails digging into his back as she climaxed.

  Several frantic heartbeats later, her eyelids fluttered open just in time to see him throw his head back, his eyes clamped tightly shut. He thrust deep one final time and stiffened, every muscle in his body going rigid. Her name tumbled from his lips, riding a raw moan of pure male satisfaction. A burst of satisfaction rolled through her because she knew that while he might, indeed, walk away from her, he would never forget the way she made him feel.

  He collapsed beside her and gathered her close, pulling her back against him in spoon fashion. His chest was solid against her back, his arms strong and powerful around her. Warmth seeped through her, lulling her heartbeat for the next several minutes as their bodies cooled.

  “I think the dog likes me.” His deep voice slid into Brandy’s ears and she opened her eyes to see Jez standing beside the bed, her tail wagging, her tongue lolling as she stared up expectantly.

  “She’s not my dog. She belongs to Jenna.”

  “She looks mighty cozy in here not to belong to you,” he said, watching as the dog trotted over to the far corner and settled on a discarded apron. She buried her nose in the pink fabric and closed her eyes.

  “It’s the bakery smell that attracts her. She’s got a sweet tooth.”

  “So do I.” His deep voice sent a whisper of heat along Brandy’s nerve endings, but it wasn’t the heat that wrapped around her and settled deep in her belly. It was a sense of contentment, and she realized in a startling instant that she liked having Tyler curled around her as much as she’d liked having him deep inside.

  Maybe more.

  “I really need to get dressed,” she blurted, suddenly desperate for a quick exit strategy from the crazy feelings.

  Before she could blink, she found herself yanked onto her back. Tyler glared down at her for a long moment as if the comment actually bothered him. Ridiculous, of course, because nothing she said or did seemed to really shake that charming, controlled demeanor.

  Sure enough, his expression eased, quickly killing her theory as a slow, sensual smile crept across his lips.

  “Not until I get one more sugar fix.” He slid down her body, his large hands going to the inside of her thighs. He spread her legs wide and scorched her with a heated glance before leaning in to press his lips against her pussy. Slow. Sensuous. Tender.

  She didn’t want tender. She wanted wild and wicked and hot, and over. That’s what she really wanted. To be done with him. To move on.

  The trouble was, she wasn’t done with him. Not yet, anyhow.

  And so she relaxed back against the pillows, closed her eyes, and let him love her with his mouth. For just a little while, anyhow.

  CHAPTER 33

  Time’s up!

  Tyler’s days in Rebel were almost over.

  He knew that, but he couldn’t make himself leave just yet.

  Not when he had Brett Sawyer himself giving him pointers and helping him on his ride. That, and he fully intended to be there on Monday when Cooper boarded that bus for Texas A&M.

  And Brandy?

  With each day that passed, Tyler was finding it harder and harder to remember that this was just sex. Temporary.

  Because it felt more permanent than anything else in his life. More right. He found himself looking forward to the little things. Counting on them. Seeing her smile when he kissed the tip of her nose. Holding her until the crack of dawn. Listening to her off-key singing in the shower. Liking her off-key singing in the shower.

  Brandy Tucker was the last woman he needed to fall in love with. She’d made it clear that she didn’t want anything beyond a physical relationship. She’d made no false promises, left no room for maybe. She was a Tucker and he was a Sawyer and while her older sister had defied the odds, Brandy had no desire to do the same.

  She was all about her business. Her future.

  And he couldn’t blame her. Heaven to hell, but he felt the same.

  If only he could shake the crazy feelings pushing and pulling inside of him. He needed to switch them off and simply enjoy whatever time they had left together.

  But damned if he didn’t want her to feel the same riot of emotion. To miss him when he climbed out of bed in the morning, to look forward to his company every night, to want to see him in a capacity that didn’t involve getting naked.

  Hell, maybe she already did.

  The thing was, there was no way to really know because the sex was muddying the waters. She might already like the little things as much as he did. She might like him.

  Enough to thumb her nose at a one-hundred-year-old feud?

  He wasn’t sure, but there was only one way to find out.

  * *
*

  “This isn’t part of the deal.” Brandy stood in the kitchen of her bakery and fed flour into her giant mixer. “Since when do you want to know how to bake?”

  “Since I’m on the road most of the time and it might be nice to whip up something in the motel kitchenette that doesn’t come frozen in a box with a set of heating instructions. I happen to like apple pie and you happen to make the best in town, so I figured you could help me out.” He’d pulled his shirttails free of his jeans and unfastened the top buttons of his western shirt. The vee afforded her a glimpse of silky chest hair and tanned skin.

  Her stomach tingled and her nipples tightened and all was right with her world.

  Sex.

  That’s all it was between them. It wasn’t as if she liked standing next to him, working side by side, as a slow, twangy country song drifted from the radio sitting atop a nearby shelf. It was all about the heat that raged between them. The intense lust. The overwhelming physical attraction. About packing as much punch as they could into their short time together so that she could work out all her frustrations and get her mind back on her business.

  She held tight to the thought as she retrieved several cold chunks of butter from the large stainless-steel refrigerator. Thankfully, she could feel his eyes following her as she reached for a pastry cutter and chopped up the butter before tossing it into the flour. Her skin prickled with awareness as he moved next to her and added half a cup of the ice water sitting nearby. Her nipples tingled. Her tummy quivered.

  He turned and his arm brushed against her breast. A tiny thrill of excitement zipped up her spine. He stared deep into her eyes and for a split second, she felt him lean forward. His warm breath brushed her lips and she closed her eyes. This was more like it. They could forget all this domestic crap and get to the really good stuff. He was going to kiss her—

  “Oops, I think I left my cell phone in the car,” he murmured before planting a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Don’t add anything else until I get back.”

  Her nose. He’d kissed her nose, of all things.

  Her skin tingled and a strange warmth stole through her. Okay, so it was nice, but still. It wasn’t what she’d expected.