Dalton Boys Box Set Books 1-5 (The Dalton Boys)

by Em Petrova

  She took his hand and guided it to her hip, just over the cut of her panties. Not understanding, he kneaded the skin.

  And fell still.

  The skin was different—harder, twisted. He removed his hand to see.

  “A burn?” he asked, relief coursing through him. She’d put the brakes on because of a marking on her body?

  “Y-yes. My ex—” She broke off, battling with tears, though she didn’t let any fall.

  She was strong too. In that instant, he fell head over boots in love with her.

  “Sugar, this,” he slid his hand over the puckered skin, “isn’t a flaw. It’s a survivor’s story. It makes you more beautiful to me.”

  A sob left her, and he captured it with his mouth. Kissing softly again, going slow to allow her time to recover. When he eased a finger under the edge of her panties, she bucked.

  He had her back in focus.

  “This time I get a taste.” He traveled down her body, kissing neck, breasts, belly. He grazed his lips over her burn, and she twisted her fingers in his hair. He found the shape of the scar with his mouth, horrified that someone would do this to her and thrilled that she’d given him such a gift in confiding.

  Hooking his fingers in her tiny cotton panties, he drew them down her thighs and off her ankles. Somewhere along the way her flat sandals had been kicked off. With a wicked grin, Hank grabbed her ankle and drew her toes to his lips. “These pink toenails are dangerous, sugar. They lured me in from the start.”

  Her smile flashing in the moonlight was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. He kissed each toe on that foot then stretched out between her thighs. Honey scents dizzied him.

  Lowering his head, he steeled himself. If he didn’t, he’d lose it before he ever got inside her. He touched his tongue to her slick folds and groaned. Sweet heaven coated his tongue.

  She cried out, head thrown back, mouth open in an O of pleasure. Pressure built in his groin as he ran his tongue up and down her seam, gathering all the juices he could. When he teased her swollen nubbin, she grabbed his hair in both fists and said that very unladylike word that had captured his heart weeks ago on the road.

  * * *

  The one thing in Charlotte’s life that had held her back was now just a pinprick in her conscience. Hank had dismissed her burn as if it wasn’t something ugly to hide away. Every pass of his tongue against the marred flesh had stripped away the shackles she’d lived with for months.

  Her heart soared even as she quaked under his tongue. Passion flowed in her veins, and she knew she had to come to terms with loving this man.

  Later.

  He dragged his tongue up her sex and curled the tip around her bundle of nerves. If she died right now, she’d go happy. Heat licked her insides, and her sex pulsated with every swipe of his tongue.

  He flicked, licked, lapped and laved her into a puddle. She was soaking wet, making primal noises and she’d never felt freer. Dark heat coiled low in her belly, and her walls began to clench.

  Seeming to sense this, he speared her with one long finger, nice and slow. Right to the hilt. She came, hips lifted off the blanket, screaming to the heavens.

  The release seemed to go on forever, and Hank cleaned every drop of her cream. When he lifted his head, he wore a wolfish smile. “I knew I loved this bit of isolated ground.”

  “Thank goodness. I got a little loud.” A blush was in her voice.

  He lightly bit her inner thigh, raising a gasp. Then he slid up her body, licking and kissing. She reached for his jeans, sliding them off his hips. He took a minute to discard boots and the mass of fabric.

  She sucked in a breath. He was gorgeous, silhouetted against the dark sky, body painted in moonlight. His cock jutted from a nest of dark curls, the tip dark and shiny.

  He held up a square foil packet. “You’re lucky I’ve got four brothers who just made a trip into the city. I don’t keep such things on hand.”

  Could she be more endeared by this man? In her old life, she’d never crossed paths with a guy who didn’t buy stock in condoms. Here was Hank, swiping them from his brothers because he had no need for them.

  Until now.

  As soon as the condom was in place, she yanked him down. He claimed her with a kiss, thrusting his tongue, maddening her. She wrapped her legs around him. He planted a hand over her burn and hitched her higher, angling her to receive him.

  Their gazes connected, and her heart did a start-stop. “I’ll make this good, sugar.”

  “You already have.”

  His teeth gleamed as he fitted himself at her opening. Holding her gaze, he sank into her. She clenched around his inches, wanting him completely. As he captured her mouth again, they began to move.

  Their bodies came together in a desperate clash. Pressure mounted, and that release on Hank’s tongue seemed tame compared to what was building.

  His muscled body working over hers thrilled her senses. And his fierce gaze and fiery kisses were her undoing. She realized how far she’d sunk into this man.

  He lashed her to his body, moving her to meet his thrusts. Emotions stampeded through her as she felt him stiffen. Lines etched around his eye and hard mouth, and she knew he was close.

  She wanted to be there too.

  Focusing on that inner point his shaft passed over again and again, juices flooded. The burning need intensified.

  “Oh God, sugar. You’re so hot and tight.”

  His dirty talk sent her flying. She rocketed off the edge of ecstasy, pulsating around him, kissing him as if she’d never get enough. He jerked his hips, driving her up the blanket. She clung to him, swallowing the growl of release he fed her.

  As she came back to herself, she was staring at the stars above Hank’s head. His soft, mussed hair tickled her nose, but she didn’t brush it away. She reveled in his closeness.

  This was a pleasure she could go to time and again. When had she begun to think in such country terms? At the moment, she couldn’t bother to contemplate the changes in her. Hank smelled too good.

  He shifted to the side, pulling free of her body. Her heart ached a little at the loss, but he gathered her close and spread his hands over her spine. “I love this part of the ranch even more now that I’ve shared it with you.”

  She smiled against his chest. “I’ve never been here before, and I can tell you it beats the kitchen on a hot day.”

  He vibrated with laughter and twisted her curl around his finger. The gentle tug on her scalp did things to her insides that had nothing to do with arousal and everything to do with contentment. She could lie here forever.

  “This will be my land someday.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Pa’s splitting it between all five of us, but there’s a condition.”

  “What condition?”

  “Well, I don’t know if I should tell you about it. You lying here all soft and sweet in my arms is too good.”

  It was impossible not to rouse with curiosity. She leaned on her elbow and looked at him. “I shared my secret about my burn with you.”

  “That’s true.” He cupped her jaw in one big hand. “You know it doesn’t make you less beautiful. And I hope someday you’ll tell me the whole story. But I can’t promise not to hunt down the man who did it to you.”

  A ripple ran through her at his intense words. She had no doubt Hank would rip Stephen into pieces if he ever found him. Hank was nothing but protective, and it made her feel unbelievably cherished.

  He issued a sigh. “I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to freak out about what we’ve just done.”

  Oh no.

  “Okay,” she said slowly.

  “We can’t have the land until we’re married.”

  It took a heartbeat for that to sink in. Surprise overtook her. “What?”

  “It’s my parents’ condition—no land until we’re married so we can settle on our own.” Embarrassment sounded in his voice.

  She sat up. “Do you mean…”

>   “Don’t get tied up in knots, sugar. I wanted you without a single thought to roping you into a marriage.”

  She couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t what she’d asked for. All she wanted was a few nights’ worth of memories to carry away. His confession that he was on the marriage market pushed her out into the galaxy. She was far, far away from wanting marriage.

  He settled a big hand around her waist and nuzzled her nape. “Charlotte. This thing between us—the attraction—it isn’t there because I need a wife to get that land. I might live all my days in my parents’ house and that’s okay. I won’t take a wife unless she’s the right one for me.”

  Oh God, thinking about him married to someone else, with a family of his own and a big house overlooking this beautiful view hurt her worse.

  She rubbed a hand over her face. Catching his scent on her skin didn’t help. “I’ll be leaving as soon as the car’s fixed.”

  He fell still, and she was grateful she couldn’t see his face. “I know that. I couldn’t ask a city girl like you to stay.”

  Ouch. Tears prickled her eyes, and she scolded herself. She had no business being hurt that she may not be the wife for him. She didn’t want to be a wife.

  He sank his teeth lightly into her neck, raising hairs all over her body. “Let’s not think about this anymore. This night is for us, because I’ve been out of my head wanting you for weeks.”

  He always knew how to speak to her heart. She smiled and turned into his arms.

  As he trailed his fingers up and down her spine, she listened to the peep frogs and his heartbeat.

  “If I ever get to build that house, though, I’ll build here.”

  She was horribly and painfully jealous of the woman who’d get to live here with him.

  Chapter Six

  A week of stolen moments—kisses in the pantry, fingers touching beneath the table and bodies moving under the moonlight. Charlotte walked around with a smile so often even Maggie commented on it.

  “Country living agrees with you, dear.”

  It did. She felt so different out here compared to the stagnant city. It wasn’t only about smog, traffic or almost losing her life in Phoenix—the dynamics were different. Here, no one cared that her nail polish didn’t match her outfit or her dress was from a past issue of the fashion chronicles.

  And she was smitten with Hank. Sinking deeper daily. Her rational self knew it was dangerous to get so attached when she had all intentions of leaving. But he touched her heart in so many ways…it was impossible not to want more.

  As soon as she heard the big, heavy footsteps, chills showered her spine. Smiling, she half turned from the celery she was chopping for chicken salad sandwiches for lunch.

  Hank stood framed in the kitchen doorway, taking up the whole opening. Hat pushed back so she could see his eyes and wearing a dark green T-shirt that enhanced the color of those eyes.

  Heat smoldered in her lower belly. In the past week they’d gone through a bunch of condoms, and he said so far his brothers hadn’t even noticed his petty theft. It amused Charlotte that swiping condoms from his brothers seemed to be the worst thing Hank had ever done.

  “Hey, sugar.” His drawl sent her heart into a new tattoo. He’d seen her at second breakfast, giving her an up-down look in front of his whole family. Cash had worn a knowing smile, which Charlotte ignored. Witt wasn’t a bit quiet, though.

  “Momma, didn’t you teach Hank not to ogle pretty girls?”

  She swatted Witt on the arm with her newspaper. “Leave Hank alone.”

  Deep down Charlotte guessed Maggie knew what was going on between her and Hank. That’s why she’d been leaving Charlotte alone in the kitchen more and more even though Maggie was more mobile.

  When Hank stepped into the room, Charlotte turned and rested against the counter, heart pounding. His look scorched her. “Pretty dress this mornin’.”

  “Thank you.” Was it her or were her breathless words drawled?

  As he neared, she realized she still held the knife. With an upward quirk of his lips, he removed it from her hand and set it aside. Then he hooked a hand around her waist, drawing her into him until their bodies thumped.

  “Mmm, you smell good.” He nuzzled her curls. She hadn’t even washed her hair this morning.

  “I probably smell like grass.” After the tumble in the field they’d had, no wonder.

  “You do. And you’ve brought a souvenir from our trip.” He tugged on her strands and held up a short blade of grass. She snatched it, looking beyond him at the door.

  “Someone’s going to come in.”

  “Do you care? What would happen if I announced at lunch that I’m head over boots for you?” The casual way he admitted this turned her inside out.

  Pulsing with warmth and simultaneously ice cold that she’d break his heart soon, she shook her head. “Hank, don’t.”

  He released her, seemingly unaffected by her desire to keep their secret. He plucked a piece of celery off the cutting board and popped it in his mouth. Damn, even the way he chewed was sexy.

  “I’ve gotta get out in the field again, sugar. Later tonight I’ll have a surprise for you.”

  When he left, she watched his tight Wranglers and tighter buns. He hadn’t even tried to kiss her.

  With a heavy sigh, she returned to chopping celery then onions for the salad. Maggie came in to tell her to add some dried cranberries to the mixture because the boys loved it. Charlotte nodded without looking up.

  “Everything okay? Onions don’t have you crying, do they? I try to grow the mildest kind.”

  “No, the onions are fine.”

  Maggie moved on her crutches to a chair, pulled it out and sat. She was getting better each day with maneuvering herself. Soon she wouldn’t need Charlotte.

  She didn’t want the deep pang in her chest.

  “Was that Hank I heard a bit ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “The boy has a way of walking. Big, heavy steps. No wonder—he’s tall and built with muscle from working so hard on this ranch.”

  Yes, she knew Hank’s muscles well. She’d spent the past week exploring them.

  “He works hard.” Charlotte couldn’t think of anything else to say. When she met Maggie’s gaze, she wished she hadn’t.

  “He’s a good man.”

  “Yes.”

  “And he’s very interested in you, anyone could see that.”

  Oh no. She didn’t want them to all know when she broke Hank’s heart. She had her own life to discover—Paradise Valley was a bump in the road, a hiccup in her life.

  The best accident she’d ever had.

  “I don’t know what to say to that,” Charlotte said quietly.

  “I can see you’re torn up a little. Why is that?”

  Across the clean, bright, homey kitchen Charlotte met Maggie’s gaze. They were friends now. Maggie was almost a mother figure. Could Charlotte confide in her?

  Maggie used a crutch to push the adjacent chair out. “Sit and talk with me.”

  She wanted to fidget under the direct command, but she held her head high and abandoned her chopping. Sitting with Hank’s mother, talking about him, wasn’t her idea of a comfortable moment. But she’d suck it up because the Daltons had done so much for her.

  Maggie’s eyes were very different from her boys’. Blue with flecks of silver that shined when she laughed. Right now, they were as serious as a heart attack.

  “Do you have feelings for my Hank?”

  Her words affected Charlotte. My Hank. Yes, Hank belonged here, claiming his piece of land with some pretty little wife. Coming down to the ranch for family meals on Sundays and ribbing his brothers.

  She swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”

  Maggie eyed her, probably aware of her lie. “I’ve seen you blossom since you came here. Sure, some of that is due to getting to know our family, becoming more comfortable. But I think there’s more.”

  She stared at her hands. “There is.” Sh
e wasn’t about to say what though.

  “Well, whatever that ‘more’ is, you’ve got a place among us now.”

  She looked up, shocked. “You make it sound so simple.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “No.”

  “Does Hank know why?”

  Charlotte pushed away from the table and stood. “Look, I’ve come to treasure my time with your family, but I’m not willing to discuss this with you.” When she met the older woman’s gaze, she expected to see anger. Instead, Maggie wore an expression of admiration.

  She nodded. “I’ve trusted you in my kitchen and you haven’t let me or my menfolk down. I’m going to trust you with my boy.”

  Charlotte heard what Maggie didn’t say loud and clear: But don’t hurt him.

  After that, Charlotte was unsettled. She moved through the kitchen, finishing the lunch preparations and tidying things that didn’t need it. Her mind was awhirl. She loved this family, and the flutters Hank made her feel weren’t fabricated. But she didn’t belong here.

  At lunch, she kept her gaze on her plate, careful not to let Hank catch her eye. Even when he tapped her foot with his heavy boot, she didn’t look up. The noise around the table went on, the Dalton boys teasing each other and Maggie scolding if one of them said a bad word. Too easily Charlotte imagined having a few naughty little Dalton boys of her own.

  When everyone had thanked her for the food and left her kitchen feeling empty and lonely, Hank lingered.

  His knuckles under her chin were all too familiar. He raised her face but she averted her eyes. “What’s happened since this morning? You’ve cooled off quite a bit.”

  “Nothing. Just thinking.”

  “Thinking.” His tone was weighty. “You care to share?”

  “Not right now, Hank.” She needed time to untangle her thoughts from her emotions. But she would tell him eventually—she owed it to him.

  “Okay. You’re entitled to your own thoughts, but I hope you know you can always come to me.”

  Oh God. That made things worse. He was supportive and kind—he’d make a wonderful spouse.

  For somebody else.

  “I know.” She nodded, gaze on the kitchen floor. She needed space, and he seemed to know this. He released her and stepped away.