by Becky McGraw
“I won’t argue with you there. I have been a bastard for years, and that’s not likely to change. You, however, are not a whore, honey.”
“I’m not going to dance forever. Just until I get enough money to buy my guns and tack.”
Ryan stood, then gently took her shoulders to turn her to face him. Her face was a mess, black streaks tracked to the corners of her mouth, which was swollen from her gnawing. “What the hell do you need guns for? And what were you doing out there with that cowboy today?”
Her eyes dropped to his throat. “Learning to do cowboy mounted shooting. Randy is a world champion shooter, he’s teaching me. That is what I want to be doing.”
“Well, Randy wants to be doing you,” Ryan growled his fingers digging into her soft skin. “And that’s not happening.” She sniffled, and blew out a breath, then pushed against his chest, but Ryan held her. “I’m not going to let it happen, Twyla.”
Twyla slammed her fist into his shoulder. “You’re worse than Zack! Why the hell not? Randy is a good man!”
“He’s not good enough for you,” Ryan said evenly. She looked up at him with so much misery in her eyes, he wanted to hold her until it went away. To do whatever it took to make sure she never looked that way again.
“According to you and my brother, no man is good enough.” Her lower lip wobbled again, and his eyes fixed there as she fought to still it. “I should just join a damned nunnery and you two will be happy. I like Randy and I want him too.”
Ryan heard the words, saw her lips move to form them, but his brain refused to accept them. Those beautiful lips tightened, and her breath whispered against his throat, as she said, “I’m a grown woman, Ryan, but y’all refuse to accept that. A woman with needs. Y’all are hound dogs, have whoever you damn well please, but every time I find a man I might be interested in, who might be interested in me, you get in the middle. Where’s the fairness in that?”
The only part of her statement Ryan could focus on was the fact that Twyla wanted a man other than him, was contemplating being with another man. Jealousy punched him in the gut and stole his breath. He couldn’t even find enough to speak.
“It’s not fair, and I’m old enough to make my own choices. I’m done letting you, or Zack make them for me.” She pushed against his chest again, and Ryan was so stunned he let her go. “Just leave me alone, Ryan. If it upsets you that much, and you think it would upset the family, I’ll get a job at the burger joint, and work part time at the barn to pay my board. It’ll take me twice as long to get where I need to be, while paying half the expenses here, but I’ll do it. If you and Zack will just leave me alone, I’ll do that.”
Leave her alone. To be with Randy.
A sense of loss more profound than he’d ever felt in his life engulfed him as he watched her walk toward her bedroom. Emotion shot up to his head and it pounded in time with his heart. Ryan staggered back to sit on the sofa. For ten years, he’d pushed Twyla away, dodged her advances and fought his attraction to her. It looked like he didn’t have to push anymore, and the fight was over. She was walking away on her own accord.
Now that she said she’d quit the bar, he really had no reason to stay here. She would be safe living here with Heather, as long as she wasn’t at that bar, he admitted grudgingly. It wasn’t optimal in his opinion, but his opinion didn’t matter. Twyla was grown and could make her own decisions. One of those decisions was she had evidently outgrown him. He knew now she had a roof over her head, and food in her refrigerator, he’d looked. Twyla didn’t need him, and she didn’t need her brother.
She would have Randy, the man she wanted. And a new career eventually. A life that didn’t include either Ryan or Zack.
He did need to find out more about that cowboy mounted shooting to make sure she could support herself, after investing so much into it. But that really wasn’t his business either, now was it? From what he’d seen, the sport wasn’t any more dangerous than barrel racing, and Twyla seemed to like it. She was a grown woman and didn’t need him telling her what to do.
With a feeling of numbness inside, Ryan got up and put on his underwear and jeans. He staggered to the front door and unlocked the three locks, then walked out, closing it quietly behind him. He definitely wasn’t feeling the peace he thought he’d feel when Twyla was no longer chasing him, when he didn’t have to dodge her.
He felt strange, empty…lost.
***
Twyla scrubbed her face until every trace of the thick makeup was gone, every ounce of the heartache was purged from her system. Well, every ounce of this new wave. That feeling was going to be with her for a long time. Half of her heart would always be on the road, tucked into Ryan Easter’s back pocket. She just had to accept that. Seeing him again told her that no matter how hard she tried to separate herself from those feelings, they would always be with her. He would always be a part of her.
But Randy also gave her hope today that she might eventually be able to move on. She needed to move on. Ryan Easter was finished business, and she just needed to accept that. Why then was her heart bleeding so badly in her chest?
Because what he’d done to her a few minutes ago had been a reality check. Ryan had been trying to teach her a lesson, and had succeeded tenfold. Two points had been driven home during his instruction. One was that Ryan Easter did not want her that way, and never would. Never had. When she was sitting naked and raw in his lap, he would have at least kissed her, if there was even a spark there. The second lesson was she was not cut out to be an exotic dancer. Heather had the moves and attitude for it, but Twyla didn’t.
Ryan was right that her family would be mortified if they knew.
Telling Ryan she would give it up hadn’t been difficult. Twyla hated it. His shock therapy tactics convinced her of that. It also convinced her that he would never want her the way she had always wanted him, waited for him to want her. After he’d extracted a promise from her that she’d give up the dancing, he’d lit out of here like his tail was on fire. That proved his sole purpose for coming to Dallas was to check up on her for Zack. To make sure she wasn’t doing anything they didn’t approve of. He hadn’t come here to tell her he missed her and wanted more.
Because he didn’t.
For ten years, Twyla had been kidding herself that there was something there. Ten wasted fucking years on a man who thought she was his kid sister. Ryan hadn’t been staying away from her because of Zack’s threats, and posturing like she thought. He just plain didn’t want more from her. She was his sister, and he had his buckle bunnies. Why the hell would he look twice at an irritating, gangly tomboy who mooned after him like a lost puppy?
He wouldn’t.
Twyla threw the washrag into the sink with disgust at herself. She dropped her chin to her chest and took deep calming breaths, exhaling slowly. When she finally thought she had herself together, she grabbed her worn terry bath robe from the hook on the back of the bathroom door and put it on. She yanked the ends of the tie tight, and pulled the front together tighter across her chest. Damn, she wished she had a box of Twinkies. If ever she needed them, it was now. Maybe she’d get dressed again and run to the store, she thought, as she left the bathroom to go to her room. She would Twinkie Ryan Easter right out of her system.
But that wouldn’t do a damned thing except make her sicker than she already felt. It was still early, maybe she’d call Randy and tell him her plans had changed. At least that would be a distraction from her misery. She reversed direction and headed for the phone in the kitchen, but a loud knock sounded at the front door.
With a groan, she padded toward the door wondering who the hell it could be. Heather wouldn’t be knocking, and Ryan was gone. Maybe it was Bud the maintenance man who liked to pay them surprise visits, she thought, as she went to unlock the door and saw all three latches were undone. Ryan hadn’t even locked the bottom lock, which surprised her.
She twisted the knob and opened it a crack to stick her face out through the opening. He
r heart squeezed then shot up to her throat, when she saw Ryan standing there with a wilted bunch of wildflowers in one hand, and a brand new box of Twinkies in the other.
CHAPTER NINE
Stunned, Twyla stepped back to open the door. Ryan walked inside and she shut the door, then flipped the locks. She turned, and their eyes met. There was something different in his deep blue eyes now. Remorse, and maybe an apology. The prickly attitude from earlier, his arrogance from an hour ago, was gone.
“I bought these earlier on the way here to apologize for what happened at the barn.” He held out the gifts to her. “I forgot them in the truck when I saw you leaving with Boss Hog.”
Twyla just stared at the gifts until he shoved them into her chest. Her hands shook a little as she took them from him. Who was this man and what the hell did this mean? More of the push and pull she’d been dealing with for years? In all the years she’d watched him chase women, Twyla had never seen Ryan buy any of them flowers. He’d bought her Twinkies before, because he knew they made her feel better when she was upset.
His shoulders tensed, his mouth opened and closed a couple of times, before he huffed a breath and put his hands on his hips. “I just wanted to give them to you.” He dropped his chin to his chest and started at the toes of his boots. “I, ah…also wanted to say goodbye, and to tell you to take care of yourself.” He sighed deeply. “If you ever need anything, just call and I’ll be here, Twy.”
Anger surged through her. Her brother had come back up here with a peace offering. These weren’t gifts from a man to a woman he was interested in. They were to appease his guilty conscience evidently. Grease her up, so when they met up at family things in the future, there wouldn’t be any hard feelings. Well, there certainly were hard feelings, and she didn’t want the gifts, or his apology. The only thing she needed from him was him to leave.
Enough was enough.
Twyla shoved the box and flowers into his chest. “I don’t want ‘em. Maybe they’ll keep until you get back to the rodeo. You can pawn them off on a bunny to get you a little. Leave, Ryan. Don’t come back.” How many times had she told him that now? Too many. Why wouldn’t he just leave her the hell alone?
His eyes flew up to lock with hers, and what she saw there shocked her. Heat, passion, and something that looked like desperation to her. His chest rose and fell rapidly, as his eyes burned her. He continued to stare at her until Twyla’s fingers went numb from gripping the box and stems so tightly.
Suddenly, his hands shot out to grab her shoulders. The flowers and box fell to the floor between them. “I didn’t buy them for a fucking bunny, Twyla. I bought them for you,” Ryan growled, and before Twyla could catch a breath, he jerked her into his body. His mouth slammed down over hers, and a tremor shook her as his incredible taste shocked her system, his heat and delicious outdoorsy scent surrounded her. Her heart stopped, then took a giant leap in her chest that left her dizzy when the kiss turned even hotter. Twyla moaned as every bone in her body melted under his fierce assault on her mouth. She leaned into him to keep from falling as her knees turned to water. The kiss was all that she’d ever imagined it would be and more.
But this whole thing bordered on the surreal. Was she dreaming this? Had she gone off the deep end? Or was Ryan Easter really standing in her living room kissing the stuffing out of her?
He slid his mouth from hers, dragging in heavy breaths. His hands shook as his fingers found the sash on her robe and he jerked it open. Cold air rushed over her still damp skin and her nipples pebbled to tight points. Ryan’s hot blue eyes fixed there, and it felt like they branded her skin. “And I don’t fucking want a buckle bunny. I want you.” He met her eyes and repeated the words she’d waited ten years to hear, as if they cost him dearly. “I want you, Twyla.”
An electrical field of tense emotion buzzed between them, and Twyla was too shocked to move. Twenty-thousand volts and ten years of pure awareness heated Twyla’s blood, but she held back, because she didn’t trust him. This could be another of his games to get her to go back to the rodeo with him.
“I finally write you off and try to move on, and now you tell me this?” she asked incredulously then took a step back. “You’re definitely a slow mover, cowboy. Too slow.”
Ryan grabbed her shoulders. “I’ve missed the hell out of you, Twy…”
“You missed me?” Twyla’s heart melted in her chest, but then she stiffened her shoulders, as another thought hit her. He’d been without his buckle bunnies for a few days. “Or are you just horny, and any willing woman will do?”
“No!” he shouted, jerking her back to him. Ryan’s arm was a tight band around her waist. Twyla put her hand on his chest to keep some space between them, and his heart pounded against her palm. Her eyes met his burning gaze and her own heart tripped in her chest. “This has been going on too long. I’ve let it go on too long. We need to see what’s going on between us, regardless of your brother, or if I lose your family because I can’t keep my hands off of you.”
A knot settled in Twyla’s throat, and she couldn’t find her voice, so she just nodded. Her body relaxed against him, and Ryan’s arm loosened around her. A smile that she’d only seen him give other women eased up the corners of his lips, and Twyla put her palm on his beard-roughened cheek. His eyes spoke to her, as his head lowered. His mouth hovered over hers for a moment, his sweet, uneven breaths brushing her lips.
His lips finally met hers gently, and Twyla sighed. After several fleeting passes of his mouth over hers, the tip of his tongue rasped over her lower lip lighting up every nerve ending in her body. The nerves at the top of her thighs beat in time with her heart, as her body anticipated him deepening the kiss, wanted him to deepen it. Needed it more than her next breath. But Ryan took his time making several more slow passes over her mouth, before he stopped a moment to hover there with their lips millimeters apart.
“Remember you wanted this tomorrow,” he growled, then shock rocked her when his teeth clamped down on her lower lip, and he tugged it as he roughly shoved her robe from her shoulders. Cool air swept over her upper body and she shivered. Without the padding of her new bras, Twyla knew he would find her lacking there. Heat flooded her face, as she tried to free her arms to cover herself, but his fists closed in the material trapping her arms at her sides.
His hot eyes drank their fill for several moments, before he muttered, “Fucking perfect.” His dark head lowered toward her left breast, Twyla held her breath. Ryan’s lips only whispered over her nipple though. Instead he made slow irritating strokes over her nipple with his beard roughened chin, nuzzled it with his equally rough cheek.
It felt like sandpaper on the sensitive bud, and was painful. Her nails curled into her palms, and she bore the pain until she couldn’t take anymore. Just as she opened her mouth to protest though, something shifted inside of her and the damndest thing happened. The pain suddenly transformed to the ultimate pleasure. Sharp pangs of desire hit her in the center of her being, and instead of complaining, Twyla threw her head back to moan long and low in her throat. Ryan’s tongue made soothing circles around her nipple and she mewled.
The wet heat of his mouth finally covered her, but he wasn’t gentle with that either. He sucked her nipple into his mouth hard, and Twyla felt the tug at her core. She screamed his name, her inner muscles clamped down, and her knees went weak. Ryan held her upright by the lapels of her robe, and turned her toward the door. He slammed her limp body against it, lifting her before pinning her there with his hips. He looked up into her eyes, as he reached between them to shove his hand under her robe, between her legs. He ran a finger along her folds and dipped it inside of her. Twyla whimpered when he carried her moisture to where she throbbed and slathered it there. His voice low and tortured, he said, “You have been every woman I’ve fucked for the last ten years. I want the real thing.”
His mouth drifted down to cover her right breast, but his words floated through her lust-clouded brain to settle there, and a sho
ck wave rippled through her. For ten years, while he’d been fucking those other women, she’d been waiting for him. Wanting him to be her first. Now that it was finally happening, how the hell did a cowgirl tell a man she was a twenty-six-year-old virgin? She’d had opportunities, but between her brother and him, those opportunities were lost. She should be pissed and not want anything to do with this man for reminding her of that, but she couldn’t get there. She was too turned on, needed him too badly. Had waited too long.
Her body tensed. “Ryan, I, ah…well.”
He lifted his eyes to hers, and his eyebrows slammed down over his eyes. He tempered the fierce look with a sexy smile she felt in her gut. “No changing your mind now, Daisy. The cow is out of the barn, and the branding iron is hot, hard and ready.”
She knew the women Ryan was used to were experienced, as far from virgins as women could get. They were like the women she danced with at that bar. This was finally happening, and Twyla was not about to disappoint him by being inexperienced.
Daisy. The stage name that Leon had pinned on her. She needed to channel her inner Daisy to get through this. Fake it til you make it.
That had been Heather’s advice, and so far it had served her well. So had her new test of asking herself what Heather would do, given the same situation. Twyla forced what she hoped was a cocky grin. “You really are slow moving, aren’t you?” She swallowed the bitterness on her tongue before it could seep into her tone. “I’ve watched you fuck those women for ten years and wanted to feel you inside of me. Now, get a move on, cowboy. I don’t want another ten to go by, while you work up the courage to fuck me.”
Ryan’s cheeks turned red, and his smile faded. With a growl he eased her down to her feet, and yanked her robe downward. It whispered down her body to pool at her feet, then he grabbed her wrist to tow her behind him toward the breakfast nook. Jerking out one of the plain wooden chairs he spun it to face her, then pinned her with an angry glare. “You got whiskey and a shot glass?”
