“Remember anything in particular he said?” Dillon’s tone softened, the way it did when his memories kicked in of their parents.
“Keep her runnin’ like a top. Always keep her runnin’ like a top.”
“Makes a heap o’ sense coming from him. He always made it a priority to keep everything running ‘top,’ as he’d say.”
“Dono said you told him that Dad gave you a wink and whispered he kept Mom runnin’ top.”
Dillon loosed a short laugh. “Yep, he did. Once. We’d had a few beers together, celebratin’ a cattle roundup.”
Dash paused, letting his own memories surface. “I’ll never forget him saying each and every Sunday after church until I was ten…remember he’d let us decide after that age, whether or not to go?”
Dash watched as Dillon tried to adjust his shoulder, then winced in pain, his stoic features changing to ashen. “Yeah, I remember.”
“He’d always say, a woman is the most sacred and special creation ever made by God.”
When Dash glanced at him, Dillon gave a stilted nod. “He’d get that faraway dreaming look in his eyes, and he’d smile, slow and easy.”
“Yep, wouldn’t matter if mom and he’d had a spat that morning, neither.”
“Dad looked at me, steady and piercing as an eagle, just before I left for military trainin’, and said, ‘You’re going to make a good husband. It’ll be a while, Dillon, but you’re going to give your entire soul to a woman, not just your heart.’” Dillon twisted in his seat and grunted. “Dang, I think this hurtin’ is makin’ me confess like a sissy drunk Union soldier.”
Reaching back to the med kit, Dash flipped it open. With one hand, he seized the whiskey flask, knowing exactly where it was, and thrust it toward Dillon. “A coupla swallows won’t hurt. It’ll take the edge off.”
“Wanted to stay clear-headed for Kylie.”
“Yep, I know, big brother. I don’t think she’d want you sufferin’, though.”
Muttering a growl, Dillon uncapped the silver flask and tipped up a few good-sized swallows. “Did you and Dono put her gifts in our lovin’ room?”
“They’re waitin’ for her, yup. You want to rest in there, instead of your room?”
After another swig, Dillon handed the flask back. “I can bunk down there just as well for healin’. I want our wife to know how much she’s wanted. And I don’t want to break with tradition. Why take a chance?”
“Yup, why take a chance? Mom always smiled and talked about what dad handmade for her each and every anniversary.”
“That roping saddle. She loved it, but she’d tease him and say he really wanted a ranch hand, not a wife.”
“And he’d tease her back, saying she was lucky he let her out of the kitchen, given how good her cookin’ was, long enough to ride the herd with him.” Dash snuck another look at Dillon. His body had become less tense, along with his features.
“Good lord, Dash, you shoulda seen her. Kylie whipped out my side pistol, took aim and fired better’n most recruits I trained.”
“I think she’s got the Atlantean warrioress nature. You know, like in the ancient stories Dono tells us sometimes.”
“Amazon or Atlantean?”
“Get Dono to explain it. I think those fierce Amazon women were descendants.”
“Tell you what I’m thinkin’. She’s a Celtic goddess like in Grandma’s stories, the ones who led the battle charge.”
“Could be. Maybe bein’ here is letting that nature loose inside her. The Earth dimension she came from is filled with lily-livered cowards, sounds like.”
“Could be that Earth’s Union was successful in trainin’ the menfolk to be cowards, like they tried here.”
Dash snorted. “I won’t be forgettin’ those shock bracelets they tried to force Texans to wear, especially durin’ travels. Hell’s world, I wouldn’t collar a dog that way, why would I put one on me?”
Dillon chuckled, an abrupt sound. “I’ll never forget all those shock bracelets that got rounded up and delivered to the old Washington, D.C., with folks saying they had the shockers ready and daring the Congress scoundrels to put ’em on.”
A ticktock of quiet passed. “Texas has yet to learn submission to any oppression, come from what source it may, as said by Sam Houston,” they both uttered in unison.
“Home,” Dillon reverently intoned, the instant their entrance gateway appeared.
“Dang, if those don’t look like the pearly gates.” Dash disengaged his connection to the Tesla, taking back control of the truck’s speed. “Yup, there’s Bonnie girl waiting for you.”
“Slow down and I’ll open the door for her.” Dillon gripped the handle.
“You certain you want her on your lap? She’ll hop in the truck bed.”
“Can’t refuse my girl dog.”
Dash just shook his head as he rolled the pickup to a halt. Dillon cracked the door and Bonnie squeezed her way inside, jumping onto his lap. A whirlwind of fur, she kissed his face a few times, then settled sedately on his lap while he stroked her.
“Betcha you were kinda worried, Bonnie girl,” Dillon murmured to her. “Yep, me too. Everything doing okay here?”
Chapter Forty
Ain’t the Whiskey
Kylie’s heartbeat pounded to the max the instant Dono unlocked the Tesla’s door. Pushing it open, she ran toward Dillon. Simultaneously, Bonnie bounded toward her, halting Kylie in her tracks. She could only watch as the wolf-dog crouched for a bare second, then sprang into her arms.
Utterly surprised, Kylie held the furred bundle of energy close yet focused on Dillon. He eased his huge frame out of the pickup, his boots solidly landing on the ground.
As he stood fully, pain etched her Viking cowboy’s features. Intentionally, he erased it and headed toward her, moving with that latent power of his, the stride that hit her I-want-you button.
Watching him, Kylie soared inside. God, he was okay. He had to be. His gaze darkly glowed on her, a silent promise from him that he was going to be just fine.
“Bonnie must know you saved big brother’s big hide,” Dash called out, following behind Dillon.
Spinning in her arms, the wolf-dog lapped Kylie’s face several times. “Bonnie, what a sweetheart you are.” A giggle of utter relief, of happiness bubbled up Kylie’s throat. She hugged the beautiful creature close, then set her down once Dillon neared. “Her fur smells like the ranch.”
Kylie wasn’t prepared for the fast sweep of Dillon’s arm around her waist or for how hard her Viking brought her against his body, strong as the mountain they stood on. Her arms slipped around his waist, and she held on as if nothing else mattered. Because nothing else did.
The intense glitter of his gaze seared her heart an instant before his mouth crushed hers. His fierce kiss possessed her flesh and adored her spirit. Inside a zone where only Dillon existed, Kylie launched her herself closer, fusing her lips to the bold movements of his.
More than their impassioned mouths, his whiskey-flavored kiss poured through her with a sweetness Kylie had never imagined coming from a man.
“Dillon.” She breathed out his name. She breathed out her heart.
“Let’s go to bed, wife.”
The rapid rush of their breathing steamed the air, then seemed to twine in a symbolic act of marriage.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Dillon claimed her shoulders in that dominant way of his, and Kylie sizzled all the way down to her toes as he pivoted them toward the front door. Together, they mounted the steps, moving through the door Dono held open for them. He gave Dillon a conspiratorial wink.
Even though her curiosity jumped up and kicked her, Kylie ignored it, pressing her cheek against Dillon’s super manly chest. However, when he guided her in the direction of the having sex room, instead of his bedroom as she’d expected, Kylie straightened. “Okay, what’s up, cowboys?”
Dash popped around the corner in front of them. “It’s Texas tradition.” Pride owned his voic
e and his boyish handsome features.
“What Texas tradition?” Kylie sassed him, flipping her hair.
“You’ll see.” Dono tantalized her, his tone a dark sorcery.
“I know you’re not branding me again.”
“Nope.” Dillon squeezed her shoulders briefly, hugging her close as they turned through the doorway. “It’s the tradition here for a husband to handcraft a marriage gift for his wife.”
Dash backed inside, his grin so wide and prince-charming Kylie wanted to stand on tiptoe, grab him around the neck and kiss him senseless. “Your marriage gifts,” he blurted out, unable to contain himself. “That’s the tradition.”
“Your marriage gifts, my beautiful wife,” Dono crooned behind her, his voice black velvet now. “And we decided we want you to tell us which one is from each of us.”
“That so figures. What if I refuse?” Excitement skittered through Kylie, despite what she’d endured.
“Then we’ll do some ropin’ and ridin’ once you’re all rested and right with the world again.” Dono’s lazy enthusiasm looped like a lasso around Kylie, arousing her desires.
“I suppose I can’t outrun all three of you rough tough Texans, can I?”
“We’ll never let you run that far,” Dash promised, his tone easy, but intense.
“We need a whole lotta lustin’ and lovin’,” Dono drawled.
Dillon encouraged her forward, releasing her shoulders. Kylie’s breath caught and flew inward, and for several seconds, she didn’t exhale. “Wow.”
Blinking several times, she whipped her gaze back and forth over the ultra incredible gifts before her. They’d all been placed on the platform bed where her three Texans had branded her.
Finally able to move her feet, Kylie smoothed her hand over polished leather. The saddle had been exquisitely crafted and designed for a woman. “Ooooh, I can’t wait to mount up and use this. Go riding with my cowboys.”
Giving the saddle a final lingering stroke, Kylie stared at the red leather corset placed beside it. “Oh, my, my, what do we have here?”
Gently, she fingered the supple delectable leather, itching to try it on. Had the circumstances been different, she would have slipped into the erotic garment, and invited the husband who reached her first to lace it up.
“Talk about naughty-sexy, my bad-boy Texans. You aren’t going to brawl over who gets to lace me up first, are you?”
“Only if you’re in the middle, all purty and naked.” Dash exuberantly crowed, warming her pussy mound.
“The one of us who made it should get that privilege.” Dono’s dark purr traveled the length of her spine, making her hotter.
“Now, there’s a clue,” Kylie teased. “I’m going to guess my Musketeer cowboy made this corset for me.”
“Two more to guess right on.”
Dash’s drawl was positively infectious and Kylie smiled as she glided sideways to the bridle laden with filigreed silver.
The unique pattern, inlaid with small turquoise gemstones, appeared so fragile, she hesitated in picking it up. When she did, the small whorls of silver glinted, thoroughly enchanting her. “Oh, this is so completely gorgeous.”
Tears sprang to her eyes as she carefully laid the bridle back onto the bed. Kylie swallowed, forcing them back for now. Smiling as brightly as she could, she faced her three Texans.
“I’m going to guess this is a bridle for a princess. Right, Dash?”
“Aw shucks, honey lamb.” Dash shuffled and grinned at her, his eyes blazing with pure happiness.
“It took him over a year to make that.” Dono thumped his brother’s back heartily.
“You three Vega brothers certainly know how to make a woman feel...” Kylie paused, realizing what she truly wanted to say. “A wife feel welcome.”
The words spilled out of her, a wellspring gurgling up from her love-starved heart. This time, her tears of joy wouldn’t be denied, flowing down her cheeks.
“Woooweee,” Dash drawled, long and low.
Kylie flung herself toward him and hugged him with her heart as he wrapped her inside his big strong embrace. Squeezing his neck tight, she gave a hop upward and wound her legs around his waist.
At the same instant, Dash lifted her. He spun her around in several quick circles, then let her slide down his body. Kylie clung as he planted a large loving kiss on her lips, wet and slippery from her tears.
“You taste all salty, princess,” he ribbed. Gently, Dash thumbed away her tears as they gazed at each other. “My wife.” Lowering his head, he kissed her again, his mouth tender and ferocious on hers. Kylie curled her fingers in his hair moaning softly.
Reluctantly, Dash parted their lips. “Better go round up that blue stuff for Dillon’s shoulder,” he huskily murmured. Pulling back, he added, “So big brother can get some good rest. We’re gonna need him pulling his weight ’round here.”
Nodding once, Kylie stepped back and faced Dillon and Dono.
“I’ll get big brother undressed and settled in bed.” Dono aimed his words at Dash’s retreating back. “Once, I get a kiss from my wife, that is.” He quirked a devastating grin at her and opened his arm invitingly.
“You can pull off my boots and jeans, once I get back,” Dillon barked, striding toward the room’s immense bathroom.
Kylie glanced at Dillon before slipping inside Dono’s arm.
“He’s gonna do a quick recovery with you around,” Dono rasped.
His green eyes reminded Kylie of emeralds reflecting a roomful of lit candles. Feeling lithe and beautifully sexual, she yielded her curves to the hard chiseled planes of his frame. “Dono.”
“Let’s get this jacket off you.”
Before Kylie could blink, he caressed it from her shoulders, down her arms, and tossed it on a nearby chair. “Wow, what moves.”
“Moves,” he crooned in a purr that centered itself in the most feminine part of her being. “Wait until I lace you up in that red corset, darlin’ wife. Slow and easy as warm molasses, but I’ll make it fit tight. I’ll make it fit just right.”
Dono swayed, dancing as if a smoky slow tune played in the background.
“Seduction extraordinaire,” she whispered. “That’s what you are.”
His lips stroked hers apart, and their mouths hungrily nibbled kissing to the same tempo.
“God, I want you lacing up that corset. Soon.” Her lips tasted his lips as she spoke.
“Soon.” Dono’s splayed hands roved over her back, priming her for a later encounter between them.
Becoming aware of the Dillon’s footsteps, Kylie jerked back.
“It’s gonna be fine, my little filly sweetheart. You’ll get used to all of us handlin’ you.”
Kylie had to smile. “Little filly sweetheart,” she intimately sang to him. “Though, if you ride me right, I’ll race beneath you.”
Dono gradually smiled, one guaranteed to seduce her, or any woman. Yet, amusement glittered within his eyes. “Why don’t you go slip into something more comfortable.” His tone imitated a vintage movie playboy, intimately teasing her.
The next moment he stepped back, releasing her. “Dash and me will take care of Dillon.”
“Got it.” Dash entered the room. “Got something else I bet you’re wantin’, big brother.”
Kylie spun to see him holding Betsy at his side. Striding to the head of the massive oddly-shaped bed, Dash placed the rifle on a tall chest, within reach.
“Yep, thanks, Dash. No use her havin’ to stay in the med kit.”
Dillon averted his gaze somewhat as he approached. He’d shed his jacket and shirt, also his belt and holstered guns. It was obvious he’d looked beneath the gauze pad at his wound and had placed it so it covered as much of the deeply reddened skin as possible, where Dash had sucked out the toxin.
Realizing he didn’t want her to see how much pain he was in, Kylie sniffled back her sudden flow of tears. She marched a few steps to stand in front of him. “You, Viking cowboy.” For emph
asis Kylie jabbed the center of his bare chest with her finger. “You better get all healed up real soon, so you can take me riding. But, right now, hit that bed. Make it fast enough, and I’ll get all purty and naked for you, like Dash said earlier.”
Dillon claimed her chin with his thumb and finger. Tilting her face to his, he gave her an amused grin while his gaze smoldered. “No purty and naked, right now, sweet thang. That’d put a double whammy of hurt on me.”
“No, Dillon.” Embracing the hand he used to hold her chin between both of hers, Kylie caressed for a few moments, then made a movement to leave.
“Kylie.” He brushed her chin with his thumb, sending a frisson of passion cascading to her core. “Hurry back. Wear one of my shirts, sweet wife. You remember how to get to my room?”
She nodded. “I do.”
Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he let go, and Kylie pivoted toward the doorway.
“Before you go pulling off my boots, why don’t you get me a pair of long johns,” she heard Dillon say.
Half smiling at the thought of Dillon in what she imagined long johns were, Kylie found her way to his bedroom. He must have come here instead of using the other room’s bathroom. On the bed lay several shirts, including a couple of comfy-looking T-shirts.
Stripping off her clothes, Kylie tossed them on top of Dillon’s shirt. She picked up the pale blue T-shirt and pulled it over her head quickly, then shimmied into it. As she walked toward the bathroom, the events she’d experienced since leaving with Dillon in the Tesla, flash-fired liked a series of pictures before her mind’s eye.
Glad her emotions over the day’s ordeal hadn’t surfaced with any real strength, yet, Kylie drew in several calming breaths and strode inside the bathroom. No, she remained wrapped in the wonderful heady glow that was Dillon, Dono and Dash. Their obvious true caring for her embraced her entirely, as if it would always shelter and protect her.
Still, Kylie realized the shock to her system would have to work itself out over time. She’d been thrust into this land of tough rough Texas cowboys, so completely different than on her Earth. “Time,” she whispered. “That’s what I need.”
Staring at herself in the bathroom mirror, she shook her head briefly, her cap of hair swinging the way she liked it. Even though she’d been in one shit hell, already, or shoot hell of a gunfight, Kylie knew a deep part of her couldn’t quite believe everything that had occurred, not only in this dimension, but since her arrest.
Branded by the Texans [Three Star Republic] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 37
