by Desiree Holt
“Take a pill, Rance,” Hollis offered. “Remember your blood pressure.”
“A pill? You want me to take a pill? What my blood pressure needs is for me to get my hands around the bastard’s throat and choke the hell out of him.”
Brad chuckled. “Then I’d have to arrest you, and where would we be?”
“I don’t understand any of this.” Rance lifted his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, and replaced the hat. “Why’d you call off the dogs? You don’t know what danger she could still be in.”
“Do you really think I’d send everyone home if Erin’s safety was still an issue? Honestly?”
“If Erin’s okay, why didn’t she call me herself? Why wouldn’t she talk to me?”
Brad looked back at him calmly. “Did you ever stop to think maybe she’s tired of putting up with you running roughshod over her and yelling at everything you don’t like?”
“And why couldn’t T.J. come with us?” Rance persisted. “He’s her fiancé. Shouldn’t he be here, too?”
“Rance, old friend, for once in your life shut up and take my word for it everything’s fine.”
“And what the hell are we doing in Wyoming? I never heard of anyplace called Newcastle. Is this where he took her?” He glanced out the side window. “I don’t see anything except a lot of pasture and cattle. What is this place, anyway? And who’s this idiot driving us? He hasn’t said a word since we landed except to ask if we had a nice trip.”
Hollis chuckled. “Well, we did, didn’t we? Your private plane has everything but a whirlpool tub on it.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Rance pointed out. “Has this shithead got Erin stashed away somewhere? Is he hiding her until we get there? We should have brought the FBI with us.”
“Sort of, yes. And, no, we shouldn’t have. Oh.” He looked through the windshield. “I think we’re here.”
The SUV turned off the highway to a gate in the miles and miles of fencing. The driver rolled down the window and reached out to punch a code in a keypad, and the gate slid smoothly open. They rolled through it and along a gravel road cutting through more acres of pasture. But then, in the distance, on a knoll partially surrounded by trees, he spotted a massive two-story log cabin. Its peaked roof rose to the sky, and long wings spread out from either side of the building.
“What is this place?” he demanded. “It’s big enough to be a lodge. Did you bring me to some kind of fucking resort?”
“Just hold onto your temper,” Brad said. “You’ll find out everything in a minute.”
As they drew closer, Rance caught sight of matching buildings stretching behind the main house. But what really caught his attention was the incredible number of vehicles parked to the side, everything from pickup trucks to convertibles. And when he opened the door to get out, the sound of music and laughter and the babble of many voices coasted out to him on the breeze.
He noticed the driver speaking into a radio and turned to the sheriff. ”Okay, Enough. What the fuck is this? I’m not moving one more step until you tell me who I have to kill to get Erin back.”
Hollis took him by the arm and tugged him along. “A few more seconds and all your questions will be answered.”
Erin rounded the corner of the house and ran toward him, and Rance’s heart settled to a steady beat. For the moment, his anger faded, and he opened his arms to his daughter.
“Hi, Daddy.” She hugged him tightly then pulled back and grinned up at him. She nodded at Brad Hollis. “Thank you for arranging this, Sheriff.”
Hollis shrugged. “I reckon you’re old enough to know what you want to do. I’m just the delivery boy.”
“Daddy?” She tugged on the hand of the very tall, very good-looking man who’d followed her and now stood beside her like a sentinel. “I’d like you to meet my fiancé, Grady Sinclair.”
Rance goggled at him. “Fiancé?”
The man held out his hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you, sir.”
“Pleased to meet me?” Rance’s hands balled into fists. “You won’t be so pleased when I get through with you.”
“Daddy.” Erin’s voice had a warning tone to it.
“Shake the man’s hand,” the sheriff said.
“I should knock him on his ass, is what I should do.” He glared at Grady. “You won’t get a penny of her money.”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” Erin stepped back into the shelter of Grady’s arm. “I knew this was a mistake, but Grady thought you’d take it better if you could see things for yourself.” She turned to her fiancé. “Come on. Let’s go back to our party.”
His arm tightened around her. “Let’s give your dad a minute here, okay, sugar?”
“That’s all he’ll get is one minute.” She glared at Rance. “Daddy, Grady didn’t steal me away. I left because I couldn’t stand being suffocated and smothered anymore. And I didn’t want to marry T.J. I just…. It was easier to go along with everything.”
Rance frowned. “Go along with everything?”
“You are kind of like a juggernaut when you get going. But I fell in love with Grady and…and…he loves me. And all this?” She swept her hand at the land. “All this belongs to Grady and his brother, Aaron. As a matter of fact, I think they’ve got more money than you do. So, take a breath and come with us. There must be a million people here welcoming Grady home and celebrating our engagement. If Aaron can welcome his brother back after five years, don’t you think you can get past one week?”
Rance stood there, stunned. This was not at all what he’d thought he was walking into. Erin beaming with happiness. And Grady Sinclair was not at all what he’d expected.
Grady took his arm. “Come on, sir. Let’s get you a chair, and I’ll introduce you to everyone. Erin’s already charmed their socks off.”
He barely remembered being led to a chair and sitting in it, much less half the people he was introduced to. The one thing he was able to focus on was the incredible joy on his daughter’s face, and the tender respect the man with her lavished on her. Was it possible he’d been wrong about so many things?
***
“That went a lot better than I expected.”
Erin flopped back onto Grady’s huge bed, exhausted from the party and the dozens of people who’d taken time to welcome her. Of course, the best had been when Aaron and Grady saw each other two days ago, and there had been a lot of happy tears since then.
Grady’s idea of calling Sheriff Hollis, telling him the story, and letting him handle things had worked out even better than she’d hoped. Rance Braddock was on his way back to Texas, still bragging about the man he’d helped his daughter snag.
“Let him do it,” Grady had told her. “He needs to feel good about this, and we have so very much together.”
Now he said, “I think under all his bluster, he just wants to see you happy.”
“As long as he lets me choose my own happiness.”
“Maybe he worried there might be another Cal in your future.”
She bit her lip, pushing away the harsh memories. “There’s no one in my future from now on except you.”
Grady toed off his boots and tossed his shirt and slacks over a chair. Then he climbed onto the bed next to Erin and slid his hand up beneath the soft cotton skirt she was wearing. “I think I’ve said this before, but you’ve got too many clothes on.”
She laughed softly. “You always want to get me naked. You have a one-track mind.”
“Where you’re concerned, I surely do.”
He kissed everywhere on her face while his hand slipped beneath the silk of her panties and over the warmth of her skin, searching for the slippery wetness of her cunt. When he found the nub of her clit and swept his thumb over it, she shivered and arched with delight. His tongue found the hot well of her mouth and danced over the softness inside.
Erin ran her hands up and down Grady’s back, loving the play of muscle beneath the skin and the strength beneath her touch. She still couldn’t
believe that out of the mess she’d made of her life, she’d found this man and a love she’d thought only existed in romance novels. Or that it had all happened in such a short time.
“I can feel you thinking,” Grady murmured, sliding his mouth to her jawline. “I must not be doing my job. Let’s see if I can do better.”
He eased her out of her clothes, kissing each area of skin as he exposed it. He pulled at each nipple in turn, licked a trail between her breasts to her navel where he stopped to pay attention to the dainty furled flesh. Sliding lower still, he trailed the tip of his tongue across the top of her soft curls before dipping into her swollen folds and taking a long, slow lick.
Erin bent her legs and dug her heels into the mattress, lifting herself to his mouth. He blew on her wet flesh, and she quivered beneath the sensual onslaught. His lips closed over her clit, pulling on it and sucking, while two fingers thrust into her pussy. She fisted her hands in the bedding while Grady took his leisure with her, lapping and tasting everywhere and sliding his fingers in and out of her.
“More,” she begged. “Please, please.”
But when he gathered her cream and painted the sensitive skin below the opening of her vagina, circling the tight ring of her anus, she reacted automatically, clenching against his touch.
“I won’t hurt you, Erin.” He murmured the words with his lips pressed to her cunt. “I swear to you. But God, I want to fuck you there so badly. I’ll make it good for you. I promise, darlin’. And you’ll find out how good it can be.”
“Oh, Grady.” She tightened her grip on the sheets. “It’s just….”
“I know, I know. And I love you too much to force you. Ever. But will you please let me get you hot enough to try? If you tell me to stop, I will. I swear.”
Could she? This was the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with. Who better to wipe away the last memories of Cal Stadler?
“A-all right. But you’ll stop if it’s too much?”
“Cross my heart. Now, try to relax.”
Easier said than done. But, before long sensation took over again, and she forgot what she was supposed to be worrying about. Grady licked and lapped and sucked and grazed everywhere on her body. He teased her clit until an orgasm consumed her and she lay panting beneath his touch. He gave her scant seconds to recover before he used his mouth and hands to drive her up again, holding her in place while he fed from her pussy like a starving man. The second orgasm shook her, and she locked her thighs around his neck, pulling herself into his touch.
By the time he’d taken her to yet another plane of pleasure, she was desperate and hungry to feel him inside her. To have his cock filling her. Someone was pleading and begging, and she realized with some corner of her mind it was her. She was shivering with renewed need when Grady gently turned her over on her stomach and pulled pillows beneath her to support her body.
“I did a little shopping in town yesterday, just in case,” he said as he opened the drawer of the nightstand. “We still good, darlin’?”
Good? Good? She’d be good when he was inside her. She was mindless with need and moaned her pleasure.
His chuckle was underscored with lust. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
In the next moment, she felt something cool at the opening to her rectum, and then Grady’s finger was slowly probing her, smoothing the lube inside. She automatically tensed at first, but Grady’s penetration was so slow and steady she relaxed against it. When he began to add a second finger, he reached beneath her to find her clit and stroked it with a steady rhythm. The knot of flesh, already so sensitive, reacted immediately, sending waves of erotic pleasure through her. Stroke, stroke, ramping up her need until she was so aroused, all she wanted was for him to get with it and fuck her.
But Grady knew what he was doing. He worked her slowly, stretching her anus, lubing her rectum, electrifying her pussy until she shivered and moaned.
“All right, darlin’.” His voice was strained with controlled desire.
His hands on her hips steadied her as the head of his cock pressed against her hole. A little. A little more. Slowly, slowly, until he was completely seated inside her. And she realized with one flash of clarity this was nothing like what Cal had done. That hadn’t even been sex. And this was making love.
“Still good?” he asked again.
“Yes,” she breathed. “I want this, Grady.”
“You’re mine, you know. Every bit of you. Now. Forever. Only mine.”
“And you’re mine.”
Then he moved, slowly at first then faster and faster, his hands on her hips holding her steady. More, more, more. He pounded into her until he stiffened at the moment she felt the surge of lust rise up inside her. The climax thundered down on them like a hurricane gone wild, gripping them and shaking them. The spasms were so intense, Erin was afraid her body might shatter until, at last, they subsided, and they both fell forward, Grady’s heart beating hard against her back. She could feel it all the way through her, in every nerve and muscle.
He left her, with obvious reluctance, to take care of the condom but, in seconds, he was back, pulling her into the curve of his body. His hand gently caressed the curve of her ass.
“You okay, sugar?” His breath was warm on her skin.
“Better than okay. I trusted you, and you didn’t abuse my trust. I love you so much, Grady.”
“No more than I love you.”
“Grady?”
“Yeah, sugar?”
“I know you’re back at the ranch to stay, we’ll be living here and you’ll be working with Aaron. I’m good with that. Especially since we’ll be building our own house. You know, despite my dad, I love the cattle business.”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming.” He tightened his arm around her.
“Will you keep singing for me?”
He nibbled on her ear then put his mouth next to it. “Always, darlin’. You can bet on it.”
He is no gypsy, my father, she said, but a lord of these lands all over
And I will stay 'til my dying day with my whistling gypsy rover.
Ah de do ah de do dah day
Ah de do ah de daydie
And I will stay ’til my dying day with my whistling gypsy rover.
A Note from Desiree
Every once in a while something reaches into your heart and won’t let go. So it was with this story, based on the old Scottish song The Whistling Gypsy. I waited a lot of years to write it, but it’s a story of my heart and my gift to you, my wonderful readers. Where would I be without you? I hope it warms your heart as it did mine. I’d love to hear from you after you read it, as I always want to hear from my readers.
www.desireeholt.com
Also from Decadent Publishing
www.decadentpublishing.com
Chapter One
Maybe this town will be the place. Maybe I’ll find peace here.
Maybe I’ll find a woman to help me get that peace.
But Clint Gorman had almost given up hope he’d find what he was looking for anywhere. As he rolled through state after state on his massive Ducati motorcycle, stopping in town after town, the sense of place he’d been looking for continued to elude him. So he mounted up and rode on. Maybe his problem was he carried his troubles with him, and everyone knew you couldn’t outrun trouble. It sat on your shoulder until you dealt it a final blow.
If only he could figure out how to do that.
A small town somewhere might offer what he needed. He’d thought, at first, he might like the environment of a big city, but after three tours of duty in Afghanistan, the noise and bustle were too much of an assault on his senses. Impulse had propelled him to spend a chunk of his saved-up pay on the gleaming black beast and head west. He had no destination in mind, other than someplace where he could find peace and a respite from the nightmares plaguing him.
A sign that said Whistling Creek, Texas Pop. 1023 popped into his line of sight. Those signs always made him wonder if som
eone actually counted heads to get the exact number. He roared into this little Texas town, pulled his motorcycle to the curb, shut off the ignition, and pushed the kickstand down with his foot. Removing his helmet, he raked his fingers through his sun-streaked, shaggy blond hair then sat for a moment, still straddling the bike, his eyes scanning the area.
Whistling Creek’s Main Street reminded him of a hundred others he’d cruised through since he left the East Coast, each with its own flavor. He took in the shops and businesses lining both sides of the street, the antique-looking lampposts, the benches carefully situated for shoppers to stop and gab for a while. The tubs of flowers adding color. The people leisurely strolling the sidewalks, as if they hadn’t a care in the world.
Clint inhaled deeply. Even in town, the Texas air smelled sweet and fresh, a far cry from the dust of Afghanistan or the gasoline-tinged air of the cities. Every area of the country he’d wound his way through on his bike had its own particular scent, but the perfume of Texas—a blend of grass, hay, cattle, and horses—had a soothing effect on him. God knew he needed it. Was it his imagination, or did the sun seem brighter here, the women more beautiful, the people friendlier.
As he sat there, letting the feel of Texas roll over him, an unfamiliar peace descended on him, a feeling he hadn’t had for too many years. Maybe he’d hang around for a while. Surely, even as small as it appeared, Whistling Creek had a motel of some kind.
Texas. He hadn’t expected to find the Lone Star ambience reaching out to him like this. Still, he’d ridden horses when he was younger and even owned a Stetson once, so maybe this little Texas town was the place he was looking for. Could he find relief from his nightmares here? Could this be the place he’d find the elusive peace he sought so desperately?