Wearing His Brand (Texas Cowboys Book 1)

by Delilah Devlin

  “Is your lack of patience what tonight’s all about?”

  “Maybe.” Lyssa couldn’t keep her mind on the conversation. Her stomach tensed as Brand’s fist smashed into Cody’s rock-hard abdomen.

  Tara winced. “That had to hurt.”

  “Hurt who?”

  “See your point.”

  Cody swung again at Brand’s face, but Brand ducked beneath the blow and landed two quick punches against Cody’s ribs.

  Cody backed up, and his heel caught the edge of the parquet dance floor. His arms windmilled for a moment, and then he crashed to the floor.

  A loud chorus of disappointed moans rose from the crowd.

  Lyssa had had enough. She tucked her purse under her arm and moved around the bar to sidle up next to Brand. “About that ride…” she said, tugging on his raised arm.

  Brand’s head turned to her. He gave Cody one more glare and straightened, dropping his arms. He lifted his chin toward the door.

  Lyssa ignored the snickers that followed her out of the bar and into the parking lot. She kept her head held high and marched stiffly toward Brand’s big black Ford F-350.

  When he opened the door for her, she avoided his glance and stepped up into the cab.

  Brand walked around the front of the truck, rolling down his sleeves. When he’d closed the buttons at the cuffs, he raised his gaze to meet hers through the glass.

  An expression transformed his features—something so primal and deeply masculine her whole body clenched.

  Maybe tonight’s little drama had been overkill, but she couldn’t regret a moment. Brand had never looked at her like that before.

  Like he’d won the right to do whatever he wanted with her.

  When he climbed into the cab, the air crackled with tension. He twisted the key, set the truck in gear, and hit the gas. The diesel engine growled like a cougar, filling the silence between them.

  Several minutes later, Brand drew a deep, tense breath. “Did you like it when he touched you?”

  She shot him a glance, wondering how she should answer. Whether she had the courage to ratchet his anger higher. She turned back to stare through the windshield afraid to push him harder. Clouds obscured the moon and stars, blanketing the wide sky. The twin beams cut a narrow path through the murky darkness.

  “Lyss! Did you like it?”

  Lyssa cleared her throat and shrugged. “I guess.”

  Brand swung the wheel sharply to the right and hit the brakes, sending a spray of gravel to rattle against the mud flaps.

  So abrupt was his action, she didn’t have time to think when he slammed open his door and stomped around the truck. Her door jerked open, and steely fingers wrapped around her wrist, yanking her from the truck, straight into his arms.

  “You guess?”

  Chapter Four

  ‡

  Brand’s expression was so dark, so intense, all Lyssa could do was shiver. Over the years of their long acquaintance, she’d seen him angry more than a few times.

  Sure, his temper blew hot. Aimed always at the result, never the person. Completely fair. But it faded quickly once he’d dealt with whomever or whatever caused him to erupt.

  This was different. Intriguing. And oh, so arousing. This time his anger built like rainfall gathering in arroyos that spilled into a dry creek until its crumbling banks overflowed. Her mouth dropped open. She’d wanted to make him lose control—but had she pushed him too far? She quickly clamped her lips shut.

  Shocked by his reaction, she didn’t know how to respond. Although she’d goaded him into this, she trembled beneath his hot glare and remained silent, deciding to err, for once, on the side of caution.

  Brand’s hot breaths gusted against her face. His lips thinned; his nostrils flared. A wildness entered his expression, melting her insides like hot wax.

  His heated glare raked her face then dropped to her lips.

  Desire liquefied her core, curling inside her belly, sending blood rushing south to pulse between her legs. Overcome, her lips parted, and a thin moan slipped between them.

  Brand bit back a soft curse then dove. His mouth slammed into hers before she could suck in a breath to fill her empty lungs.

  The kiss—a brutal, biting, mashing of teeth and lips—didn’t gentle, didn’t slow.

  Brand backed her against the side of the truck, pressing his body against hers, grinding his thickening erection into her abdomen. His hands slammed against the metal on either side of her shoulders, and he leaned closer.

  Lyssa took the kiss, opening her mouth to breathe, and then groaned when his tongue pushed inside and he continued to ravage her mouth.

  Every part of him was hard—shuddering, driving into her.

  Her body reacted instantly, flooding her pussy with melting heat, sending a quivering excitement throughout her wilting, surrendering body.

  The tension in his shoulders and rock-hard abs radiated rage, but his thick, guttural groans betrayed something else.

  Frustration? Disappointment? Had she hurt him?

  Her legs wobbled, and she felt herself sliding down.

  Afraid that maybe she’d blown it, she began to sob, clutching at his arms to hold herself upright.

  She’d been wrong. Selfish. Childish, even. But dear God, she’d needed to break him. She hadn’t realized only a slender thread held his temper and his desire in check. Once he cooled off, would he push her away? Become disgusted with his reaction? Or worse, with her?

  Brand jerked back his head, breaking the kiss, and eased away from her body. His hands, however, remained on the truck, bracketing her shoulders. His sharp gaze glittered in the darkness.

  Lyssa’s swollen lips trembled along with her legs, and she relaxed against the truck, letting the moment stretch between them as she dragged in deep, harsh breaths.

  Despite her trepidation, a languorous heat filled her. Her head fell back against metal, and her breasts lifted with her jagged gasps, jutting against the thin material of the insubstantial bra she’d chosen tonight.

  Brand’s head dipped. Expecting another kiss, she nearly slid to the ground when his nose and lips glided along the neckline of her tank top, his tongue sweeping out to lick at the sweat gathering between her breasts.

  Then his mouth grazed over the fabric, giving her shielded bites that had her straining upward, until at last, his lips closed around a beaded nipple.

  Warmth seeped through the fabric. His teeth nipped at a tightening bud. Lyssa reached up and thrust her fingers though his thick hair, trying to press her breast deeper into his mouth.

  A low growl ripped through him, and he reached up and dragged her hands from his hair, his fingers biting into her wrists. Then he quickly turned her, forcing her against the truck.

  His head bent close; his breath feathered her cheek. “Did you like it when he touched you?” he rasped.

  So aroused now, Lyssa couldn’t gather the remnants of her pride, couldn’t summon her wits to find the answer she needed to disarm him. “N-noooo!” she moaned brokenly, a soft sob vibrating through her body.

  His hands slipped between her and the truck, sliding over her breasts, cupping them, squeezing, and then gliding lower.

  Another sob shook her, and she struggled against his unhurried touch as he smoothed down the outside of her hips then up again.

  Dragging the hem of her shirt out of her pants, he shoved the fabric upward, bunching it beneath her arms.

  When his palms flowed around her belly and upward to slip beneath her bra, she didn’t resist as he pushed it up, eager for his spreading fingers to cup her naked breasts.

  The rasp of his calloused palms on her engorged nipples was electric. She cried out, stiffening, pushing her breasts deeper into his palms.

  “God, Lyssa. You’re driving me out of my mind,” he groaned, clasping her breasts hard.

  Suddenly, his hands dropped to her hips; he leaned back and jerked her against him. Her head fell against his shoulder, and she grabbed the sides of
his thighs to steady herself.

  Brand didn’t give her a moment to regroup. He flung open her belt, flicked open the button at the top of her jeans, and tugged down her zipper. Then his hand thrust into the opening, his fingers sliding between her legs, straight into her slick folds.

  Her knees trembled at his invasion, and her hands plucked at his jeans. The scrape of his fingers as they entered her triggered a gush of liquid. She cried out, and her knees began to crumple.

  “This what you wanted?” he asked hoarsely, the hand still gripping her hip the only thing holding her upright. “You want someone, any man, inside you?”

  Lyssa reached behind her, her hands sliding around his neck as she arched her body into his and widened her stance.

  His fingers slid deeper inside, thrusting, twisting into her entrance.

  Would he stop the instant she told him no? “Yesssss…any man, Brand,” she lied, quickly growing frantic. “God, fuck me. Please.”

  Damn Her. Why did she have to be so hot, so goddamn wet?

  Although aware of this lonely stretch of road and the fact that anyone might come upon them at any time, he couldn’t think beyond the liquid heat surrounding his fingers, the curve of her sweet ass as it rubbed against his cock, and her slender body writhing in his arms.

  Adrenaline from the fight still seared his mind. His body shuddered as he pressed deeper, twisting his fingers, stroking into her wild, undulating frame. Soft, shuddering sobs broke from her throat while she pulsed her hips, the movement dragging on his fingers then forcing him deeper.

  No way in hell would he walk away from her tonight. Her arousal scented the air, sealing his intent. With Danny still hugging a beer at the bar, he could take her home.

  Ignoring her protests, he withdrew his fingers and pulled up her zipper. When he’d dragged down her shirt, he ground out, “Get in the truck.”

  He helped her into the cab, his hand cupping her ass to push her up. Then he reached across her and buckled the seatbelt, gave her a quick hard kiss, and walked around the front of the truck, adjusting himself.

  On the drive home, her darting glances and restless movements betrayed her nervousness.

  When he pulled into the driveway, he didn’t look her way. “Get out and get on back to my bedroom. Take off all your clothes. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Her breath huffed out. “I beg your pardon?” she asked incredulously.

  Brand nailed her with a stare. “You heard me.”

  She pushed her shoulder against the door and opened it, sliding off the seat, not looking back once as she stomped up the steps and into the house.

  He almost smiled at the stiffness of her posture. Lyssa was plenty mad, but she hadn’t hesitated to do as he’d told her. Perhaps arousal won out. Or maybe she wanted an even playing field, a chance to gather her shattered defenses before battling with him again.

  Funny, how he’d always thought he’d want to be gentle with her. Now, he knew better. He’d tasted her heat, knew firsthand what set her on fire.

  After he put the truck in the garage, he took his time walking back to the house, trying to get control of his anger. Seeing her with Cody, the other man’s hands shoved deep in her pockets so he could ride her swaying hips, had driven him crazy.

  That she’d given him liberties with her body only added to the rage simmering inside him. Had Cody cupped her small breasts through her clothing or slipped a hand inside? Did he know the velvety texture of her nipples?

  Brand wished he’d broken the other man’s fingers instead of only leaving bruises up and down his ribs.

  Stepping onto the porch, he noted the lights blazing a trail through his house, flickering on inside the living room then the hallway.

  He opened the screen and slammed the oak door behind him, letting her know he was on his way. A deep possessive satisfaction filled him as he imagined her stripping away her clothing with trembling hands and slipping between his cool sheets.

  The bedroom door stood open. He strode inside, his gaze flicking over the empty bed.

  Lyssa stood at the end of it, still dressed. Her hands were curled into fists at her sides.

  He lifted an eyebrow, leaned against the doorframe, and folded his arms over his chest. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but I thought this was what you wanted.”

  Her small white teeth nibbled at her bottom lip then released it. “I thought we might take it a little slower.” Her voice sounded strained.

  Brand shook his head. “I want you out of your clothes. Now.”

  A scowl drew her brows together. “What is it with you? You’re always telling me what to do.”

  Knowing Lyssa’s tendency to balk when unsettled, he let her defiance slide. Maybe she was a little scared. Warmth filled his chest, and he settled deeper against the door. “If you don’t like it, you can leave,” he said, offering her a crooked smile.

  Her frown deepened. “I don’t understand you.”

  “Maybe I just want to see you naked. A man likes to look.”

  “Wouldn’t it be a little more fun if you helped me get naked?”

  “Sweetheart,” he said, deepening his voice, “if I help, you might be leaving here in rags tomorrow morning.”

  A glimmer of a smile began to curve her lips. “Are you telling me you don’t feel very civilized?”

  Not wanting her to get too sure, he straightened from the door and took a step further into the room. “Your clothes.”

  The woman who never lacked for the just the right word or look to make him crazy, shrugged and gave him a glance that swept his face, lingered on his chest, and slid sinuously down his abdomen to rest between his legs. “I’m not always gonna be this agreeable, cowboy, but fact is, you’ve got something I want. Bad.”

  If he wasn’t so hard he could have hammered nails with his cock, he might have laughed at her sultry siren talk. “Lyss, you’ve been after this for years. Gonna blow your chance now because you’re pissing me off?”

  “I won’t mind you bein’ in charge tonight.”

  Brand shook his head. “You’ll listen to me here, and you’ll listen to what I have to say about the way you run your ranch.”

  She fisted a hand on her hip. “And if I don’t?”

  He tilted his head, keeping his expression from revealing how much her continued defiance pleased him. Taming Lyssa would provide endless enjoyment.

  Blood pumping, he strode toward her.

  Her eyes widened, and she cast a quick glance around her, as though she considered running but quickly met his gaze again. Her chin tilted.

  He halted in front of her, breathing deeply, catching her scent—a rich cinnamon flavored with her own light musk.

  Sweat gleamed across the top of her chest. He remembered the feel of her small, velvet nipples scraping his tongue and swallowed a growl.

  He’d never brought a woman to his place, but he wasn’t going to think about that fact too much. Lyssa belonged here—for as long as it took to get her out of his system, out of his mind.

  A thought lingered like a tantalizing tease. Perhaps he’d never tire of her—and maybe he could keep her so mindless with pleasure, she’d never want to leave.

  But first, he needed to impress upon her the importance of obedience. “You played a dangerous game with me tonight, baby.”

  Lyssa tossed back her hair. “You think that was all about you?”

  “I told you—never lie to me.”

  A hard swallow tensed the muscles of her neck. “All right. So, playing with Cody might have been about revenge.”

  His teeth clenched. “Don’t say his name again.”

  “Were you jealous?”

  “Jealous is too tame a word, Lyss.”

  “Will it make you mad if I confess I asked him out?”

  For some reason, the admission made him smile.

  Her gaze narrowed. “Is that a ‘I could give a shit’ smile, or are you planning a reprisal?”

  “How many times do I have to tell you I
want your clothes?” He held out his hand.

  Her fingers splayed against her flat belly then slowly curled and pulled at the fabric. She gripped the cotton and slipped it over her head and dropped the shirt onto his hand. Her bra clasped in front, and she started to turn as she unsnapped it.

  “Don’t turn away. I want to see.”

  Her lips crimped. Her chest rose as she took a deep breath, opened the bra, and shrugged it off. She caught it just before it fell and draped it across his hand. Only then did she raise her head.

  Blood rushed toward his loins, filling his cock.

  She was everything he’d remembered. Perfect. An angry, red scratch the only blemish. Barely rounded mounds of creamy flesh, topped with satiny, pale pink cones. He couldn’t wait to take another sip, draw on her like a straw until the tips bloomed against his tongue.

  “I’m small,” she said, her feet shifting restlessly.

  “I noticed.” His mouth was so dry, he didn’t trust himself to say more, and couldn’t worry about her thinking he wasn’t pleased. He’d show her soon enough. “The rest,” he grated out.

  Her cheeks billowed with an exasperated breath, but she sat on the edge of his bed and pulled off her boots, her socks, then stood to open her belt and jeans, skimming them down her thighs.

  The only item of clothing left was a small scrap of black lace arrowing between her hips and dipping between her legs.

  “You can keep those on for now,” he said when she hooked her thumbs in the thin lace at the sides.

  Relief gleamed in her eyes.

  He set the clothing she’d given him on a chair beside the door then faced her. Taking his time, he unbuttoned his cuffs, his shirt, and pulled the tails from his jeans. As he drew the shirt off his shoulders, he watched her gaze skitter over his chest.

  Color bloomed brighter on her cheeks, and her breasts rose and fell, her nipples sprouting.

  He toed off his boots, stripped away his socks, and unbuckled his belt, drawing it slowly from the loops, but he didn’t do more than unsnap the top of his jeans to ease the constriction building in his loins.

  Then he walked toward Lyssa, his hands rising to catch the notches of her hips, not stopping until those pretty pink cones scraped his chest.