Dylan

by C. H. Admirand

  She could tempt him and rekindle those flames, but she wanted to know more about him. Spending time with him at the ranch might give her the answers she needed—to the questions she had yet to ask.

  “We’re wasting time, darlin’.” Before she could refuse, he had her hand in his and was tugging her to her feet. “You planning on wearing that bit of nothing again soon?”

  She looked down at the sheer black miniscule chemise and then up at his face. From the way he frowned, she couldn’t quite tell if he wanted her to. She toyed with the skinny shoulder strap and slid her fingers down along the ribbon running between her breasts. His eyes followed and his nostrils flared. Gotcha!

  “I could throw on my nightshirt over top of it.”

  He closed his eyes and groaned. “You will pay for teasing me, darlin’.”

  She smiled and hugged him close. “I plan to, darlin’.”

  His rumbled laughter was the sweetest sound. “Grandpa was right.”

  When he didn’t say anymore, she prompted him. “About…”

  “Women.”

  “And?”

  He shook his head. “If we don’t get going, we’re going to end up staying here, and you’ll miss out on a chance to ride some prime horseflesh.”

  She couldn’t resist. “Will I get to ride your prime flesh too?”

  He swallowed and ground out, “Get your bag, woman, and save that thought ’til we get to the Circle G.”

  It felt so wonderful, teasing Dylan and being wanted to the point of desperation. Taking pity on him, she sprinted for the stairs and called out over her shoulder, “Yes, sir.”

  On the ride over, she scooted over next to him on the bench seat and reveled in the fact that they could be comfortable enough with one another to ride in relative silence and know that words weren’t necessary—being together was.

  A light was burning in the kitchen, but the rest of the house was dark. “Will anyone be up?”

  “No.” Dylan parked the truck and got out and walked around to her side of the truck, holding the door she’d just opened. “I want to kiss you so badly my gut is churning.”

  His confession tugged at her heart and had her leaning close. “What’s stopping you?”

  “My brother’s window is right up there.” He pointed to the middle window on the second floor. “And you’re loud.”

  “Kissing you?”

  His eyes swirled with a heady mix of passion and lust. “We wouldn’t be kissing for long.”

  “Oh.” Her fingertips tingled as her blood began to race. “We could sit on the swing.”

  He shook his head. “We just put it back together.”

  “It looks solid,” she said, walking toward it.

  He seemed to gather himself in as he spoke. “It was the last gift my dad gave my mom.”

  As if she understood, she said, “She’d think of him every time she sat on it.”

  His serious expression lightened. “Yeah. We all did.”

  Knowing his parents weren’t around and not wanting to bring up what could be a painful subject, she hooked her arm with his. “We can have coffee out here in the morning.”

  “Darlin’, it’s already morning.”

  She looked up at the sky. “It’s still dark.”

  “The steer don’t tell time by the darkness of the sky.”

  “How do they tell time?”

  He opened the back door. “Do you really want to know?”

  Oddly enough, she did. “Yes.” She let herself be led through the kitchen.

  “By their inner clock… probably their hunger.” He pulled her toward the stairs and she willingly followed. “We have one too.” Putting his finger to his lips, he whispered, “Right now mine says it’s time to hit the hay, but I may have some energy left for a little early morning lovin’.”

  She felt the smile blossoming from the inside out. “Promises, promises.”

  He yanked her against him and swept her into his arms. “Get ready to ride, darlin’.”

  Dylan put his shoulder to his bedroom door and gave it a nudge with the heel of his boot to close it. The soft snick of the latch closing seemed to satisfy him. He knelt on the bed and placed Ronnie in the middle. His movements were slow and deliberate.

  Where was the flash, the frenzied movements she’d grown accustomed to? “Dylan are you—”

  He leaned over her and brushed his lips across hers lightly, gently. “Let’s try something different.”

  Her heart began to pound. “Different how?” She remembered the night he lassoed her and hoped he wasn’t into really tying her up; she wasn’t sure she’d be into bondage.

  He must have seen the worry in her eyes because he cupped her face with his hands and kissed her with a reverence she’d never experienced. “I want to take my time. I want to savor your sweetness.”

  Her mouth opened, but no words came out, only a strangled moan of pleasure as his lips brushed feather-light kisses on her cheek and chin before beginning a journey that led him to the base of her throat.

  He was destroying her, fueling the fires of passion by taking his time. “Dylan, I—”

  His lips silenced her again. “Let me love you, darlin’.”

  How could she refuse?

  He lifted her up and pulled the T-shirt over her head, revealing the sheer chemise. Instead of taking that off too, he pressed his lips to her heart and kissed her. The warmth of his mouth created a moist pocket of air beneath the fabric.

  She shivered.

  He groaned.

  He moved to her breast and suckled her through the fabric. The rasp of sheer, damp voile had her belly fluttering. When he switched to the other breast, her inner muscles started twitching.

  “Dylan—”

  Again, he answered her with his mouth. His supremely talented mouth set off a trail of sparks leading from her breastbone to her belly. She sucked in a breath when he swept aside the fabric and nipped her hipbone.

  Grabbing ahold of him, she tried to bring him back up to her breasts.

  Reading her body and the tension in her limbs, he lifted his head and rasped, “We can save what I had in mind for another time. There’s plenty of territory to conquer without getting to your honey-sweet center.”

  “It’s just that I—”

  He shifted so he could press his lips to hers. “Do you trust me?”

  She felt the tension leaving her by degrees. She nodded.

  ***

  “Excellent.” He took the same path as before, sampling and savoring her along the way. He didn’t want to force her too fast too soon. He needed to build her trust in him so that she’d offer him everything he wanted: all of her.

  He’d worry about the whys and wherefores later. Right now, he had uncharted territory to cover. He could get really close to her honey without actually sipping from her sweetness.

  And he intended to get as close as she’d let him.

  “Easy,” he soothed as he traced the rim around the dip of her belly button, eliciting another shiver of pleasure from the woman he worshipped with his mouth and tongue.

  Need filled him, the need to show her tenderness and passion instead of the raw, unbridled lust he’d shown her up until now. He slid his hands slowly up her sides, testing the fullness of her breasts, cupping them, before bending to swirl his tongue around their rose-tinted peaks, amazed at how quickly they pearled beneath his attention.

  Her lips lifted upward and her head tilted back as she arched toward his touch, seeking more. Dylan dug deep to control the urge to devour and found he had the capacity to give more.

  He shifted his hands so they lifted her up until she was dependent upon him to hold her right where she wanted to be: on the receiving end of his full undivided attention. The color of her eyes deepened to emerald. He didn’t have the words to tell her all that he was feeling, all that he wanted her to feel, but he could show her.

  He brought her closer and suckled her left breast, then slid his tongue across the valley
between her breasts before suckling the other, lavishing it with equal attention. Her short, sharp panting breaths told him more than words. His woman wanted him, needed him as much as he needed her. He loved her.

  Dylan released her breast as his mouth opened in shock. His head spun as his breath clogged in his lungs, and his heart beat double time. He couldn’t possibly love her. The word love wasn’t in his vocabulary, hadn’t been since the day he and his brothers laid their mother to rest beside their father.

  But Ronnie didn’t notice his turmoil; she was still clinging to him like a burr on a horse’s hide. When she called out his name, he knew he couldn’t just stop. He’d shown her he could be gentle with her, that he cherished her. Damn. It wasn’t too soon. A man didn’t want to cherish a woman he planned to mattress dance with; he cherished the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

  She’s the one.

  ’Bout time you woke up and smelled the coffee, Son.

  His rumble of laughter had her easing back from him, but before she could ask him what was wrong, he bent his head and fitted his mouth to hers, molding her lips with his. His traced the lush shape of her lips with his tongue, encouraged when her soft moan allowed him to stroke the velvet softness of her mouth and tangle his tongue with hers.

  When she pressed her hands against his chest and tried to push back, he eased his hold, wondering what was wrong.

  “You’re killing me,” she rasped before pulling his head back down so she could reach his lips. When her teeth nipped his bottom lip, it was his turn to groan.

  He eased her down on the bed and got up, grumbling, “I should have done this part first, damn it.”

  She was smiling up at him as he toed off first one boot and then the other.

  “But then I’d have missed watching you undress.”

  He bent over to remove his socks and she sighed. “You have the best ass.”

  His snort of disbelief escaped before he could work to hold it in. “Now there’s where you’re wrong,” he said climbing onto the foot of the bed. “You, on the other hand,” he murmured, flipping her over onto her stomach, “have a magnificent ass.”

  “What are you going to do now?”

  His laughter was just this side of wicked. “Why, darlin’, I thought you trusted me.”

  She mumbled something into the pillow.

  “I didn’t hear you. What was that?” he asked, pressing his lips to the curve of her ankle before sliding his tongue along the line of her calf muscle.

  “Oh, God.”

  Encouraged, he tested the uncharted territory, the virgin skin on the back of her knee, with his lips and tongue.

  She was squirming in earnest now. “Dylan, please don’t make me beg.”

  “Hold on, darlin’,” he urged. “I’m not finished yet.”

  She bucked beneath him when his tongue touched the dip at the back of her right knee. Lord, his filly was sensitive there. “Tell me you hate it and I’ll stop.” He pressed a kiss in the dip and heard her moan, but she didn’t ask him to stop.

  Good thing, because he was so tense, he’d have imploded if she asked him to stop before he had a chance to test the firm white skin on her amazing backside. He set his teeth on her and she growled at him. “You do not fight fair.”

  “Ronnie, darlin’, if you think this is fighting, I must not be doing it right.”

  He couldn’t decide if her snort was one of derision or temper. Fillies have been known to snort when the temper was on them.

  “If you don’t turn me over right now, there is definitely going to be a fight.”

  His good mood was slipping away from him. He flipped her over and ground out, “I’m trying to show you my tender side, damn it.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought his lips down to meet hers. “I appreciate the sentiment, darlin’, but you left something turned on at home.”

  He didn’t register what she was talking about until she brushed her heated core against his erection. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that the woman was burning with need.

  “Again?” he teased, before kissing her with everything he felt, showing her with lips, tongue, and a nip of his teeth for good measure.

  “I need you now,” she demanded, sliding her hands down to grip his muscled backside.

  “Let me protect you.” He eased back, found the condom he’d left in his bedside drawer, smoothed it on, and covered her from head to toe with his body.

  “Now, darlin’,” he drawled. “Where was I?”

  She lifted her hips and he slipped into her with a swiftness that stole her breath. “Here?”

  She tried to answer him, but he didn’t give her the chance. He wanted her to remember that he could be gentle; he could cherish her, damn it. Then her hips rocked up against his and every last thought was sucked out of his head, in a vortex of desire so strong it took them both under and whipped them up over the peak into madness.

  Her finger poking him in the shoulder had him reluctantly moving, but he braced himself on his arms and looked down into her siren-green eyes.

  “Tender nearly killed me.”

  He crushed her to him and rolled onto his back chuckling. “God, I love you, Ronnie.”

  She tried to smack him, but he rolled back until she was beneath him again. “I thought that’s what you wanted to hear.”

  Her green eyes flashed with temper. “So you just said it because you thought—”

  He shut her up by kissing her. “I’ve never said I love you to another female—except my mom—and that was a long, long time ago.”

  Her eyes filled with tears, but she was smiling… and he knew that was a good thing.

  “I love you back,” she rasped.

  “Let me hold you, darlin’.”

  She sighed, snuggled close, and drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 18

  “I’ve got to go, darlin’.”

  Ronnie opened one eye and groaned. “What time is it?”

  “Four thirty. I’m working a second job, so my brothers let me sleep in.”

  She brushed a lock of hair off her face and opened the other eye. It was work; even her eyelids were tired. Looking up at him, she realized there was just something about a man with rough edges and a little wear on him that appealed to her—on all levels.

  “Morning,” Dylan rumbled, pressing his lips to her forehead.

  The sweetness of his kiss seeped into her bones and wrapped itself around her heart, smashing what was left of the wall she’d built to protect it. “Good morning,” she whispered.

  “I brought you a cup of coffee.”

  She smiled and reached for the cup. Blowing across the surface she took a sip and started choking.

  He was grinning when he said, “Jesse got up first and made the coffee.”

  “Is that what this is?” She’d never tasted anything quite like it. “Did he add a strip of leather from the bottom of his boot to the grinder this morning?”

  “Beggars can’t be choosers.” He nodded toward the cup. “If you want better coffee, you can wait for Emily to get up or make it yourself.”

  “If you get a coffeemaker with a timer, Emily could set the pot up at night to go off at whatever unearthly time you guys start your day.”

  “It was a revelation to us when Tyler came home with that drip coffeemaker. We’d always made coffee like you do… Grandpa wouldn’t drink it otherwise.”

  “I couldn’t picture Emily out here until I saw the way she fits in.”

  Dylan grinned as she dared another sip. She grimaced and he chuckled. “Emily’s as close to sainthood as a woman can get… she’s Tyler’s saving grace.”

  She almost blurted out that Dylan’s was hers, but she caught herself in time. He hadn’t repeated the words she still held close to her heart, but she wouldn’t forget that he had said them. Knowing he was not long on words, the importance of the fact that he told her loved her was not lost on her.

  “Tell
you what,” she said slipping out of his bed. “I’ll make you coffee and breakfast.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll take you up on the coffee, but I already ate. The stock doesn’t sleep in.”

  “OK,” she said. “Will you wait for the coffee?”

  He let his finger slide along her collarbone, stopping in the hollow at the base of her throat. She shivered and he pressed his lips where his finger had been. “I’ll put the horses in the front pasture and feed and water them, and come back for coffee.”

  She imagined she could brew a pot of excellent coffee and whip up a batch of corn bread while he worked. “You bet.” She walked into his arms and hugged him tight. When he loosened his hold, she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. She knew when to tempt and when to hold back.

  He laid his cheek on her head and inhaled; he let the breath out slowly as if savoring it. “Why do you always smell good enough to eat?”

  She laughed. “I have no idea, but if you really want a great cup of coffee, you won’t give me any ideas about distracting you from taking care of Wildfire and the gang.”

  He pushed her gently back and laid his hands on her shoulders. “There’s a lot about me that you don’t know.”

  She nodded. “You could say the same about me, but we have time… don’t we?”

  Dylan bent his head and gave her a swift but devastating kiss. “As long as it takes.”

  Before she could ask him to explain, he spun on his boot heel and was gone.

  “Time’s a wastin’,” she mimicked his Texas drawl and opened up her tote bag, pulling out jeans and a T-shirt. No point in spending the extra time to put on underwear; she was going to hit the shower right after she was finished in the kitchen.

  Amazed at just how dark it was at this hour, she was careful not to make too much noise as she walked by the only closed door in the hallway. Making her way downstairs, she noticed that it might still be dark, but it wasn’t quiet. The cheerful sound of birds chirping floated in on the early morning breeze.

  Washing her hands in the sink, she noticed a feeder hanging from a hook just outside the window. She’d have to make a point to look later when the sun came up.