Lacey was the one he wanted.
Right then, he made up his mind to start a campaign to seduce Lacey Blackstone away from her husband. As soon as he wooed her from Danger, he intended to marry her. If she agreed, he wanted to start a family right away. He was done ignoring his love for her, his desire. He wanted her. He figured he had as good a chance of seducing her away from Danger as the man had of holding onto her.
While she sucked on a straw from her iced tea at the café, he imagined her plump lips warm and wet around his dick. Rafe squirmed in his seat. Damn, he almost felt the heat of her mouth taking his shaft. Oh, Jesus. His body ached. He was so ready to explode. He had the maddening urge to thrust his hips beneath their booth. And keep thrusting until he came.
Rafe castigated himself for his thoughts, but he was starved for her. She set his imagination on fire. Everything she did was erotic and turned him on. The way her lips surrounded the straw, the way she bit into her burger, chewed and swallowed. Had there ever been any woman any sexier than Lacey Blackstone? No. He didn’t think so.
When she threw back her head and laughed, he saw his fingers in her hair, holding her head just so, and kissing her long and slow over and over. He imagined stroking the delicate tissues between her legs and making her wet, making her come, hearing her whisper his name in the throes of passion.
The wonder was that he didn’t climax from all the hot pictures floating around in his head of them in bed together. Hell, he couldn’t remember when he’d last had sex, but he knew it had been at least three years. From the moment he met Lacey, that was it for him.
He hadn’t touched another woman since, and damn it, he’d tried. The truth was he just couldn’t work up any enthusiasm for other women.
“Are you ready?”
Lacey’s soft words startled him and brought him back from his wild imaginings.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he mumbled.
When they slid out of the booth to leave, Rafe rested his palm in the small of her back and guided Lacey through the door. The stage was set. Today was the beginning of her seduction. Touch. It was a powerful thing. He didn’t remove his hand until he walked her to her side of the Jeep and helped her inside. He looped back around, got in, and tugged the seatbelt in place.
“I’m glad you came, Rafe.” She started the Jeep, looked over her shoulder, and backed out of the graveled drive.
He swallowed hard and thought about the way he’d nearly come in the café watching her eat. Rafe squeezed her hand on the steering wheel. “Me, too.”
She curled her fingers around his and smiled. “I’m serious when I say you need to visit us more often. Eight months is just too long.”
Yeah, gentling her to his touch was everything. “You’re right. I’ll make the effort to visit you more often from here on.”
He wondered if she noticed the subtle difference in his words. He’d gladly visit her more often in the future, but he had little desire to see Danger.
He brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. She smiled at him, unalarmed. Touch.
Once she was used to his frequent touches, she wouldn’t think anything about it. It would seem natural. For the next two weeks he spent at the Blackstone Ranch, he intended to use it in some small way every chance he got.
Chapter Five
I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you
did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.
~Maya Angelou
Two Months Earlier
December 24, Wednesday
7:00 p.m.
The sad thing, Rafe thought as he grabbed his two pieces of luggage and hurried to where Danger waited, he hadn’t simply fallen hard for Lacey Blackstone, he was obsessed with her, to the point he’d grown reckless. Or desperate. He wasn’t sure which.
He didn’t care.
It was one or the other, or he wouldn’t be back in Montana after being away for only two months. Like an idiot, here he was, ready to be a guest in Danger’s home, back to spend what was essentially a family-time holiday. He had no business intruding, just like he’d had no business being here the weekend of Halloween.
On that trip, he’d found himself alone with Lacey almost the entire weekend, except for her son’s presence. He hadn’t minded having her to himself, but Lacey had definitely been uncomfortable and nervous. He was still trying to figure out how Danger could have so much paperwork to catch up on that he’d spent practically every minute at the sheriff’s office in Rimrock the entire Halloween weekend.
Rafe clenched his jaw. Damn it. Once again deciding Lacey was off-limits, he’d refused several invitations from Danger to return for Christmas. He made every excuse he could think of, but when Danger called last night and threatened to come get him, he gave up and stopped making excuses.
What the hell. His need to see Lacey was, of course, the real culprit. It outweighed his sense of caution, his sense of decency and fair play. He could have kept on refusing, but he’d reached a critical decision. He wanted the entire mess to end. He didn’t like feeling like a thief in the night plotting to steal the most valuable thing in Danger’s home. His gut told him that between the two of them, he was the only one who thought Lacey was valuable.
For some reason, Danger kept dangling her in front of him like the proverbial carrot. No more. No more keeping how he felt about her under wraps. There were three days ahead of him. In those three days, he planned to make it clear to Lacey how he felt, confront Danger, and let the shit fall where it may.
No matter what happened, win or lose, this was his last trip to Montana.
As soon as they entered the house, Lacey jumped up from a low stool in front of the fireplace where she held a long-handled pan of popcorn over the crackling blaze. She set the flat pan to one side and hugged him.
“Oh, Rafe, it’s so good you could come. Danger’s had fits thinking your flight might be delayed or cancelled because of this ice and snow moving in.”
She looped her arm around her husband’s waist and snuggled against him. Danger pressed an absent kiss to the top of her head, stepped away from her embrace, grabbed Rafe’s duffle and tore off down the hall.
“You’re at home, Rafe,” he flung over his shoulder. “Take whatever you want. What’s mine is yours. I’ll be right back.”
Rafe frowned as Lacey’s gaze followed her husband down the hall. Her lips tightened. She turned to face him, her mouth tremulous with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Well, you heard the man,” she said in a shaky voice. “Take off your coat and make yourself at home.” She waited for him to shrug out of his coat. “You want a beer? Danger brought home a case for the holidays earlier today.”
He smiled and removed his heavy denim jacket, but instead of handing it to her, he took the few steps to the entry and hung it in the front closet. What the hell? The tension between Danger and Lacey was so thick, he could cut it with a knife, and it wasn’t caused by anything he’d said or done, unless his arrival was a cause for friction between them.
Returning to the den, and feeling slightly uncomfortable, he nodded. “Beer sounds good.” He rubbed his hands together and blew on them. “The snow’s really starting to come down out there.”
Lacey grinned. “Yeah. I watched it earlier. It’ll be fun to ride the horses in it tomorrow.”
“We’re going riding tomorrow?”
“Mmm, yeah, if you can handle the cold?” She laughed, her gaze challenging him. She looked good in the tight white jeans that nicely fit her hips. A dark green sweater hugged her firm breasts. Festive reindeer pranced across the middle of the sweater, along with white-bearded Santas in red. He wondered if she was wearing a bra and felt the familiar ache settle in his groin. He remembered the summer and in the Jeep, the way the T-shirt clung to her firm breasts. The way her nipples had tightened in response to the cool wind still made his fingers tingle.
“Too bad Joseph isn’t here, but he’s
spending the night at Anna Leigh’s so he and Gidget can get in some playtime. He’ll be back tomorrow night before we open gifts.”
She chattered on while Danger returned, grabbed the last bag and lugged it to the guest bedroom where Rafe always stayed.
“I have gifts to add beneath the tree.”
Lacey dumped popcorn in a bowl and pressed it into his hands, along with a bottle of ice cold beer she produced from the mini-refrigerator behind the horseshoe-shaped bar to their right.
“That’s the last beer from there,” she said. “The next has to come from the kitchen. You can put the gifts under the tree anytime you’re ready. We have a gift for you, too.” Her gaze flickered to his mouth and bounced away.
He frowned.
What the hell was she so nervous about? He hadn’t said or done even one thing out of line.
“I hope you like it,” she continued, smoothing her hands down the sides of her jeans. “I chose it. Sit down. Tell me how things are in Texas.”
Rafe lowered himself onto the manly leather sofa in front of the fireplace and crossed his long legs at the ankles. If Lacey had chosen his Christmas gift, then he’d cherish it forever, even if it was a pair of socks.
He watched her put on another thing of popcorn. He liked watching her. Her movements were graceful and economical, the careful actions of a photographer used to sneaking up on wildlife and taking close-up shots. It worried him that she made trips into danger zones and the wilderness for her shots.
“Well, there’s no snow in the forecast for Texas,” he said and chugged down a mouthful of beer. “All the rattlesnakes are hibernating, so no new belt or boots until next summer,” he joked.
She laughed and glanced over her shoulder at him. “Hungry? I can offer you more than popcorn.”
His body heated. What would she say if he told her he was hungry but only for her?
She turned back and shook the pan. The pop-pop-pop sounded homey. The buttery smell teased his nostrils. He wanted this. A home with the woman he loved, babies around his feet and on his lap. A fire to cozy up to on a winter’s night, good sex, long, slow kisses, and his woman‘s belly softly rounded with their next child. Six. He’d always wanted six kids.
“We rented some DVDs, but if we lose power, we can forget about watching them.”
“You have a generator?” he asked.
“I forgot to buy gas for it.” She laughed. “Danger hasn’t forgiven me for that little mistake.” A hint of pain rang in her voice she quickly tried to cover with laughter. “As you know, there’s only one station in Rimrock, and it’s closed until after New Year’s.”
“They wouldn’t open long enough for you to get some fuel?”
“Yeah, except the owners have gone to Florida for two weeks.”
“Ah, I see. Candlelight is more romantic anyway.”
“That’s what I told Danger. He wasn’t convinced.”
“His loss,” he muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing. We’ll get by if the power goes. As long as we have heat, we’ll be fine.”
The white jeans clung to her ass when she leaned closer to the fire. The sway of her long honey-colored hair reminded him of a rippling waterfall tumbling down her back. She angled forward and the thick strands slipped over her shoulders, dangerously close to the flames.
“Watch it!” Rafe leaped up and grabbed her round the waist. He slid her heavy tresses aside, pulling the silken tresses behind her. His hand lingered momentarily in the glossy strands.
“What?” Her fingers dug in the arm he pressed underneath her breasts. Her sweater had ridden up when he’d grabbed her so that a smooth expanse of soft skin was exposed. His fingers splayed across her lower stomach—another quarter-inch, and he could slide them inside her waistband, touch the nest of soft curls he knew had to be there.
He could tease her clit—explore the sleek, honeyed depths of her sweet channel. Fuck! Rafe thought he’d die. His cock jumped to instant life and throbbed against her ass. Jesus. There was no way she didn’t feel what had just happened to his body. His balls squeezed so tightly he almost dropped to his knees from the sheer spasm of pain.
Lacey had a one-handed death grip on the popcorn handle. He thought she pressed her butt against his cock and groaned. His imagination. It had to be. There was no way she’d ever do such a bold thing. She gazed over her shoulder at him, her eyes startled and wide with alarm. A flush stained her cheeks. He didn’t know if it was caused by the flames she’d been bent over or the fact his cock was jammed against the crease of her ass like a branding iron and she was nearly bent over in a receptive position.
She drew a sharp breath. Her lips parted in surprise. “Rafe,” she whispered on a choked voice. She squeezed his hand under breasts. “Please.”
He froze. He wasn’t sure what she was begging him for, for him to release her or draw her closer, to grind his hard cock against her or step back, put decent space between their bodies.
He did neither. Instead, he held his hard shaft against her and savored the way it throbbed with urgent need.
“Your hair was too close to the flames,” he said, his words thick and husky. “You need to braid it or something.”
“Yes. I know.” She swayed against his groin, her voice unsteady. “I…er, I haven’t had time,” she said breathlessly.
He brushed a gold curl behind her ear, but made no attempt to put space between them. Neither did she. He slid his gaze to the pulse pounding madly at her throat. “Take time,” he said quietly. “I’d hate to have to visit you in a burn unit.”
She licked her lips. His gaze flicked from her throat and zeroed in on the dampness glazing her lips. God, her mouth looked entirely too inviting. There was something so sexy about the plumpness of her lips. It was all he could do not to lower his head and steal her mouth, mold it to his, and linger an infinite amount of time nibbling on that sexy lower lip.
The soft swell of her firm breasts rested on the arm he had around her, and the sudden awareness she wasn’t wearing a bra sent a spasm of urgent need to his gut. Reluctantly, he released her, dragging his arm across the soft underside of her breasts. He cleared his throat and stepped back. “I’ll finish popping the corn. You go do something with your hair.”
She nodded and moved quickly around him. “Thanks. If you want a sandwich, there’s a baked ham, help yourself, or there’s left over pot roast from yesterday. I have a turkey in the oven, but I’m baking it all night on a low setting. There’s an extra pecan or pumpkin pie, whichever you prefer.”
She was nervous, chattering on and on about food. “Or there’s—”
“Pecan definitely sounds enticing,” he interrupted. Jesus, he needed a minute to calm his runaway heart, a minute for his dick to soften and settle behind his zipper. “You made them?”
Lacey blinked and licked her lips again. Her gaze flickered to his crotch and bounced away, as if she was desperate to look anywhere but at the bulge behind his zipper. She shot her gaze to his face. “What?”
“The pies? You made them?” He clenched his fists at his sides to keep from readjusting the front of his pants—if he went anywhere near that thing, it’d explode. Damn, he had to do something soon, give himself five-fingered relief, howl at the moon, something, anything.
God, he needed to fuck! Why the hell did he think that? He glanced quickly at Lacey. Please, God, don’t let me have said those words aloud.
She didn’t look too shocked standing there, so he figured he was safe, for the moment. When he got back to Triangle, he had to find a woman. He needed hours in the willing arms of a female.
“Yes. I made four pecans and three pumpkins, but I sent one each home with Anna Leigh, plus she took a second pecan pie to share with her neighbor. Get whatever you like. If we run out, I can always make more.”
“Pot roast sounds good. Go.” He shooed her out and quickly adjusted the front of his jeans. Staring at the flames, he wondered what the fuck he was thinking grinding hi
s cock against her ass like that, and Danger right here in the house. The wonder was that Lacey hadn’t slapped his face. She had to have been too stunned to react. He knew he’d embarrassed her. Her face had been redder than the devil’s jumpsuit. She wouldn’t allow him within a foot of her for the rest of the time he was here, and who could blame her?
“Was it good?” Danger stood there with six beers in his hand.
Rafe jumped, his gaze leaping to Danger’s face. “Was what good?”
“The beer and popcorn. Where’s Lace?” He placed four beers in the mini-fridge and handed him one.
“Doing something with her hair. It worried me the way it fell so close to the fire. It’s dangerous.”
“Yup.” Danger nodded. “I’ve told her a hundred times to keep it up when she’s fiddling around the fireplace.”
Rafe frowned at the hint of criticism in Danger’s tone. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”
“It isn’t necessary.” Danger leveled his gaze on him, a wealth of silent communication in the man’s steady look.
“Danger, I—”
“I set the fire in your room,” he interrupted. “There’s plenty of wood in the box near the fireside to run you for the night. It’ll be warm in there by the time you’re ready for bed. Hopefully the power won’t go in the middle of the night.”
“Yeah, Lacey said she forgot to buy gas for the generator.”
“I reminded her three fucking times. She still forgot—too busy developing film in her darkroom to pay attention to what I said.” He sounded irritated.
“Careful, man, you sound like an unhappily married man.”
“Do I?” Danger shrugged. “Guess the honeymoon wore off. I’m looking for someone to take her off my hands.”
Rafe swallowed hard. Jesus. What the hell was wrong with the man? Couldn’t he see he had the love of a wonderful woman?
Had the Rimrock lawman just given him the green light? If so, why?
“Danger—”
Too Close To The Fire/Too Hot To Handle (Montana Men 3) Page 16
