Dixie was no longer sure about anything but that she wanted more than the mere brushing of his lips against hers. She wanted his mouth on hers. And he wanted it, too.
There was a tension in his every muscle that she could feel. No, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t tension as much as excitement. For the same excitement was in her, too.
His hand beneath her hair heated the skin on the back of her neck. Excitement coiled, winding tighter and tighter by the second, waiting to be strung or to be banished. One move, one word, that’s all it would take to break this breathless anticipation and see them past the brink of danger.
Dixie couldn’t draw enough breath to speak. His fingers slid up into her hair, cradling the back of her head, tilting her face more to his. The slight move, the feel of his long, strong fingers holding her still for him, sent a fresh burst of tremors through her.
“Sweet,” he murmured, touching his tongue to the curve of her bottom lip, his breath shuddering against her mouth. “Sweet Dixie.”
“Yes…oh, please, yes,” she murmured, not sure of all that she was answering or asking for, but very sure she wanted to find out.
His fingers tightened an infinite bit, dragging her head back. Ty sucked in a harsh breath. “You know that I want you? How much I want you?”
“Yes,” she whispered, nodding.
The slight, spare motion of her head was enough to bring their lips together. Like a pile of dry tinder touched by a match, their kiss exploded. His mouth took hers, ravishing it with a rough, raw splendor. Dixie parted her lips willingly in answer to the fierce demand of his tongue. It moved inside her mouth with strokes that were hot and wet and sweet, sending a shivering heat coursing through her body.
Hay rustled beneath the settling weight of their bodies, releasing the scent of summer sun-dried grasses as his knee wedged itself between her thighs. Dixie had no thought to stop him, no thought to stop herself from touching him. Her arm wound around his neck, holding him closer as their lips clung and tasted, parting the mere fraction needed for them to gulp air only to once again seal their mouths in yet another soul-shattering kiss.
She trembled against his wiry body, refusing to hear the dimming voice that warned her to stop, to think of what she was doing. She was tired of thinking, of being alone. She wanted the feelings he aroused, wanted to savor the new sensations he awakened in her.
There was a joy here with Ty, a joy she thought had been almost stolen from her. The joy of being a woman, one who could desire a man. And every deepening stroke of his tongue, every longer lasting moment of their kisses, chased the memory of cloying breath and grasping hands that had tried to steal what was hers alone to give. Her fingers tightened within his hair, the other hand sliding over his hip to find his back pocket. She slipped her fingers inside, cupping his buttock at the same time he pressed his wounded arm around the small of her back. The move drew her to straddle his knee and she broke the kiss, dizzy with the need for air, afraid that she was losing control.
Ty scattered kisses over her face, some gentle, others hot, openmouthed kisses that once more forced her eyes closed and gave him back the sweet taste of her. He tugged free her braid, sliding his hand through the straight, heavy weight of her hair before he wrapped it around his wrist and hand to hold her still for the unrestrained passion he unleashed.
He coaxed her tongue forward to meet his, stroking eagerly against it, teasing her by plunging and withdrawing until she sought to learn his taste.
Secrets. Dixie had more than she had told him, more than he had discovered now. Hot secrets. Sleek and arousing and he knew he wouldn’t let her go until he had learned every one of them.
Her knee pressed against his arousal, sending the ache deeper, the need higher. And he slid his hand from her back to her hip, dragging her closer. Her thighs gloved his leg, and he guided her to ride him, wanting more of the wildness he sensed waiting to be free.
Dixie uttered a small gasp that turned quickly into a moan. The fiery pressure was too much, yet in seconds, wasn’t enough.
He cupped her hips with fierce urgency, lifting her into his body, drawing her to match the provocative rocking movements of his hips.
Her head fell back as desire streaked through her. Ty’s lips followed the arch of her bared throat, impatiently seeking the pulse point throbbing at the base.
And the tight rein Dixie had kept on her emotions suddenly snapped. She needed too much. Needed Ty far too much. He made her forget. And desire ebbed as fear replaced it.
She cried out, fighting not to let passion sweep away the last remnant of the will to stop him…and stop herself.
Twisting her head from side to side, her whispered denial grew in intensity. She felt the bite of his fingers digging into her shoulders, the rough shakes he gave her before she heard his demand that she look at him.
His hair was in wild disarray from the kneading of her fingers and, despite the deep tremors shaking her body, she wanted to lift her hand and smooth the damp locks from his forehead. She couldn’t look at his eyes, but her gaze noted the slight flush that tinted his prominent cheekbones. His breaths, like her own, were labored. Her gaze fell on a drop of sweat that slowly trickled down the browned column of his throat. She was seized by a fierce and unknown desire to catch that drop, to touch her lips to his skin and keep the salty-sweet taste of him on her tongue.
Ty saw the confusion cloud her features, but he had no pity for her. He was raw and aching, battling himself not to stretch her out flat beneath him and take what her every kiss had promised.
“Why, Dixie?”
The words were harsh, sharply bitten off, and she felt the power of his gaze drawing her head up to look at him. When she couldn’t summon the will to deny him this, she met his gaze and instantly wished she had not.
The blue color was nearly gone, eclipsed by the dilated black centers that hid nothing of the passion that still held him in its grip. She didn’t know she was crying until he spoke.
“Tears? Now? Tell me why. Tell me what I did. Or what I didn’t do. Talk to me,” he demanded, giving her yet another rough little shake. “I didn’t have you pegged for a tease. I told you I wanted—”
“Let me go, Ty. Just let me go.”
Soft. Ever so soft her voice washed through him. But far from making him release her, the demand only made his resolve harden.
“Mercy’s in short supply. Just tell me why you pulled back now. You were hotter than—”
“Stop it!” She closed her eyes, sagging against his grip and unable to control the tremors that racked her body. “I couldn’t stop you before. I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t…didn’t even want to try. Satisfied?”
Her words were mere whispers, and Ty had to lean over her to hear her. He heard part of what he wanted. Far from being satisfied, he still felt a need to punish her for leaving him raw and aching.
“Then why the hell didn’t you push me away when I first kissed you? Answer me, Dixie. I’m listening.”
She tried to pull free of his hold, but once more he held her tight. Beaten, she didn’t attempt to protest again.
“Go on, finish it. I can tell there’s more to it.”
“Stop badgering me, Ty. I’m exhausted. I only slept for a few hours before a nightmare woke me. All I wanted to do was leave here. Leave you. But you couldn’t let it be. Couldn’t leave me alone. You had to come after me…had to have your damn answers. No more. You hear me? No more,” she repeated, raising her hands to wedge a space between them.
“Hell, Dixie! I’m not your enemy.” Desire warred with a powerful need to comfort and protect her, even from himself. The mixed feelings left him shaken and he found himself releasing her, hating the way she quickly scampered back to get away from him. Her brown hair hid half her face from him, but he saw the sparkle of tears on her cheek and noted that she made no effort to wipe them away. He lifted his hand, but once again she moved back from him, and Ty let his hand fall to his side.
Staring
blindly down at the hay, he found himself clutching a handful, squeezing it tight as he struggled for control. In a useless gesture, he flung the handful across the stall, and watched the bits fall.
“I didn’t lie about wanting you, Dixie. But I came after you because I thought you needed comfort. It’s not right for a woman to be so damn high-fired independent.”
She heard the underlying rawness in his voice. While she longed to quietly lick her own wounds, honesty forced her to answer him.
“I’ll admit I wanted comfort, and things just got out of hand. I’ve been alone for so long, Ty, and you were right saying I’m at the end of my rope. I didn’t mean to use you.”
He shot her a look still simmering with anger. “Use me? Is that what you call it? I’ve got a broadside for you, lady, when a woman—”
“Don’t. Lord, please don’t say any more.” She curled herself against the back wall of the stall, huddling her body tight to contain the pain that lashed at her. She had been alone too long in a world that men controlled. But along with the pain came an anger that mixed with fear when she glanced at Ty. The man made her feel. He reminded her that she had once been a woman with dreams.
There were so many she had lost in the past months. Love was something she had hoped to find one day. She wanted a husband, a family and the much-needed security of laying her head upon a pillow each night knowing where she would wake in the morning. There was a need within her to nurture a family as she longed to nurture land, and she desperately wanted a man to love, one who would be strong enough to stand beside her no matter what they had to face.
Dreams. Empty, cast-off dreams.
Things that she wouldn’t, couldn’t tell Ty about.
Revealing weaknesses to anyone could be her downfall. The only way she could survive and do what she had to was to deny everything that had once mattered to her until she had her revenge.
Ty raked back his hair with one hand and slumped against the slats. “I’ll be damned if I know what to make of you. I’ll be doubly damned if I’ll let you ride out alone with those men after us.”
“It’s not your fight, Kincaid. Remember, no complications? Your insistence is making one big complication for me. I can’t deal with you. I don’t want to.”
If he hadn’t heard the slight tremor in her voice, Ty would have believed her. He would have walked away right then and left her alone. But she chose that moment to look at him, and their gazes met in a clash of wills. Ty understood that in the long, passing moments she was taking his measure as he took hers, weighing strengths and weaknesses. Dixie pushed him away the moment he got too close. Not just body close but when he dug at her emotions. Far from discouraging him, she only intrigued him.
And he had the most ridiculous notion that she was somehow protecting him.
He would have laughed, for she looked weak-kneed as a newborn filly, but the battle light of temper seeped into her eyes and he knew there was a hard core of strength within her. She was vulnerable now, but come morning he’d have a fight on his hands.
“And if I can’t let you go, what then, Dixie?”
Chapter Seven
Defeat and despair forced her eyes closed. She shut him out, but his question replayed over and over in her mind. He wasn’t really giving her a choice. And while she longed to say “Yes, help me,” something refused to allow her to say the words.
“Just as well that you don’t answer me,” Ty said, his own voice echoing her exhaustion. “Those men are killers, and you can’t ride off looking for them alone. End of the discussion. Not a thought more about it. I couldn’t call myself a man and live with that.”
Dixie came to her knees in a rush, throwing handfuls of hay at him. “I wish I had something harder and heavier to throw at you. Kincaid, you’re more than a mule, you’re pure rock. I never asked you—”
“On that we agree. You never asked me. But you could.”
“Never.” She glared at him, watching as he came awkwardly to his feet. He couldn’t hide the wince of pain as he used his wounded arm to support himself.
“Go to sleep, Dixie. No sense in disturbing the rest of them for what’s left of the night. We settled enough for now.”
“Settled? We settled nothing. This has gone far enough. There is no us! I don’t know how to make you hear what I’m saying or to make you understand that I don’t want a damn thing to do with you, Kincaid!”
He eyed her with a taunting look. “Swearing doesn’t sound nice coming from a woman.”
“Where are you going?” she demanded as he lifted the lantern off the nail.
“Miss me already?”
“Like hell.”
“Well, I’ll tell you. I’m heading for the tack room to find us some blankets. We can bed down right here.”
“I won’t sleep with you.”
He turned and offered her a knowing grin. “You’ve already done it and a hell of a lot closer than I was counting on.”
The shadows hid her flaming cheeks. Dixie didn’t bother to refute him. The stall was large enough for them to stretch out without touching each other. And morning would be soon enough to deal with the arrogant, pigheaded Ty Kincaid.
All too fast he was back, tossing her two thick wool blankets and spreading one out for himself.
When she saw that he was going to blow out the lantern, she asked him not to.
“Can’t leave it lit, Dixie. Wouldn’t want to get another fire started, now would we?”
He had mentioned it deliberately, channeling her thoughts back to those minutes when she had lost herself in his arms. Pillowing her head on her hands, Dixie tried to blank out the feel of his body against hers. She licked her lips and found a residue of his taste, or maybe it was just fanciful imagination taking over.
She damned the luck that had crossed her path with his, and in the next breath called herself a fool. She wouldn’t have survived that night without his help. But that didn’t mean he owned her. Around and around, her mind circled what to do about Ty, and she drifted off to sleep without reaching any conclusion.
Ty knew almost to the minute when restlessness turned to sleep for her. He envied Dixie for a few moments while he wrestled with the trap that waited for him. He had told her the truth. He couldn’t call himself a man and leave her alone. She’d have to accept that. He wasn’t giving her a choice. But he sure wouldn’t make any sucker bets on the outcome when Dixie finally understood that. His daddy didn’t raise no fool.
Dixie was dreaming. She had to be dreaming that soft, whispering voice that tickled her ear and announced that coffee was waiting for her. What a lovely dream…someone serving her coffee in bed. She sighed and nestled deeper beneath her blanket. She still craved sleep, her aching body deserved it, so she fought against being awakened.
Seeing the dreamy smile play around her lips, Ty had to restrain himself from waking her the way he would have liked to. If he tried stealing that smile of hers with a kiss she’d more than likely come up spitting and snarling at him. And he didn’t want to fight with her.
The early ride he had taken left him assured that he had covered their trail here, and he saw no sign that they had been followed. He needed time to pry the rest of her secrets from her. His shoulder could do with a day of rest, too. Livia had offered to wash his clothes, and he knew that Dixie wouldn’t mind the same for hers, as well as have a real bath. It wasn’t kindness that prompted his thought. Or so he told himself. Possessions seemed to matter a lot to her. She wouldn’t run off without her clothes.
He called to her again, and when she refused to open her eyes, he gently blew on the coffee, then fanned the rising aroma toward her face.
With a moan, Dixie inhaled the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee. A scent so rich she dreamed it had to come from just-ground coffee beans. It had been weeks since she had tasted it. Her stomach reacted with a loud growling, and her mind sent wake-up messages to her body. Messages soon became a demand that she taste this dreamed-of promise.
&nb
sp; It took Dixie a little while longer to figure out that she had never dreamed about the aroma of coffee.
Still groggy after a restless night’s sleep, she barely managed to open her eyes. Her eyelids felt as if she had pried them open. Since she was curled beneath the blanket, lying on her side, the first thing she saw was a pair of knees.
An all-too-familiar pair of knees and legs tucked Indian-fashion and nearly touching her nose. Those particular knees had figured in a dream or two, whose content lingered too close for comfort and had her clamp her thighs together.
But there was temptation, too. Cradled within long-fingered hands dead center of those spread knees was the cup of coffee she craved.
“Kincaid.” She wrinkled her nose as her ripe scent rose and mixed with that of the coffee. She forced herself to look up, and stopped when her gaze found his mouth wearing a grin so taunting she had to call it cocky.
Another moan forced its way past her lips. Dixie turned over to her back. Closing her eyes wasn’t enough to shut out the image she retained of him. She flung up one arm as an added shield.
“Go away, Kincaid.”
“Is that any way to greet the man who came all the way out here to serve you coffee? Time to rise and shine, sleepyhead, it’s past ten. This is a damn good cup of coffee, if I do say so myself.”
“You would. You’re arrogant enough.”
“Ah, a cranky lady upon waking. I’ll remember that.”
“Don’t bother. You won’t be around to see it again. And,” she added, trying to resist the wafting scent that once more sent her stomach growling, “I am not cranky.”
“Whatever the lady says.”
Why was he being agreeable? Dixie didn’t trust him. She shifted her arm and peered up at him. His hair was damp. He had shaved. A foolish thing to notice—that the beard stubble might be gone, but he looked just as dangerous as he had the night she saw him in the saloon. Her hand came up from under the blanket and touched her cheek then her chin. She wondered if all the kissing they had done had left its mark on her.
Once a Maverick Page 7