by Stacy Gail
“Why wonder?” Twin spikes of excitement and trepidation shot through her as she spoke, because this was explosive territory they were heading into. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, they had a past. Sure, it wasn’t their past exactly, but it was still there, and those scars went deep. If he rejected her now because he believed she was too much like her mother, she knew in her heart she’d be done with him forever. “I’m not attached. Neither are you. We answer to no one. You said you wanted to seduce the fuck out of me. I haven’t been able to get that out of my head since you said it, so what the hell, let’s do this. I think I’m ready to be seduced.”
“There’s going to come a time when you’ll no longer think you’re ready to be seduced by me. You’ll fucking know it, and you’ll be screaming for me to get inside you when that time comes. But you’re not there yet.” His hand found the skirt’s hem and boldly slipped under it. A smile curled his lips when she gasped at the first graze of his hand against her bare thigh. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to wait for you to get there all on your own. Feel free to bitch at me for my underhanded tactics. That is, if you can even manage to be coherent.”
“No fair,” she managed, not sure if she felt more aroused or alarmed. He certainly had her in a vulnerable position—spread legs, up on an animal she had no idea how to get down from except by the use of gravity, and that certainly didn’t have any appeal.
But she had to admit, what did appeal was what that hand was doing.
“You’re like living silk.” He glided feather-light caresses along the top of her thigh, melting her nerve endings with each sweet touch. He trailed farther up, then swept with exquisite gentleness back down to linger over the satin smoothness of her inner thigh, as if the texture of her skin fascinated him. She shivered, and she knew he felt it because he brushed his mouth over her temple.
“Easy,” he murmured, no louder than the breeze sifting through the leaves above them. “I’m just getting started. I want to savor every part of you, Dallas. I want you to savor every part of me. The only thing you have to do is enjoy.”
Enjoy.
Sure.
Sounded easy enough.
But in practice...
She caught her breath again as his hand brushed against her panties, the only barrier keeping her from his touch. Closing her eyes, she focused on relaxing her muscles, all the while wishing her underwear would magically disappear.
“There we go.” His voice was wonderfully rough, a lover’s hungry growl that had the ability to make her already-racing pulse stumble. “I can feel how wet you already are. You get that wet for me, Spice?”
How did he expect her to have a conversation when he was slipping his hand past the silky barrier of her panties to cup her sex like he was claiming ownership? “It’s not my fault you kiss like it’s what you were put on earth to do.”
He made a purring sound of satisfaction. “If kisses get you this hot, just imagine what I can do if I really put my mind to it. And my hands. And my mouth.”
Until that moment, she’d never known anticipation could be painful. “Tease.”
“Guilty.” There was a smile in his voice that turned her insides to goo. “Good thing you’re not wearing your granny panties today.”
“You bought those hideous things, pal.”
“It was my last line of defense. Just thinking about you wearing sexy-ass lingerie was enough to make me so fucking horny I had to jack off in the damn shower. A shower that was cold, by the way, but it didn’t even touch the fire you lit in me.”
Her heart spun like a top, as much from the admission as from the seeking touch of his hand. “I thought you...” Breathe. Breathe. “I thought you bought those things because you hated me.”
“I hated how I had no control over myself when it came to you. Now all I can think about is making sure you understand that I can’t wait to make you lose control over me.”
“You’ll have to work hard to make that...oh.” She gasped, because he’d parted the intimate folds between her legs and brushed her clit. “Oh, Killian.”
“Nothing gets me hard like the sound of my name on your lips. Nothing.” He gently nipped at the line between shoulder and neck, sucking at the flavor of her skin. “Say it again, Dallas. Get me so hard I lose my fucking mind.”
She closed her eyes. “Killian. Killian.”
“That’s right.” He slid a finger deep into her channel, and the caress through her slick wetness made her whimper. “Give me all those sweet little noises.”
“I can’t...” Burgeoning sensations tightened inside her, a wild pleasure so sweet she couldn’t deny it as she started to rock against his hand. “This... this is crazy, doing this here. God, you make me crazy.”
“Good. Ride my hand just like that. Help me give you all the pleasure you can take.” He delved deeper, teasing around her clit while not putting actual pressure on it. She squirmed helplessly, looking for that relief, while he brought his lips to her ear. “Imagine what I could do with my mouth on this sweet pussy of yours,” he whispered while endlessly circling—but not stroking—that all-important cluster of nerves. “I’m imagining it myself and I’m getting so hard I might fucking explode. I wonder what other sounds I could wring out of you?”
“Please.” Each exhalation broke on something close to a dry sob as her hips bucked, chasing the elusive pleasure. “Please.”
“Please what?”
A near-growl hissed from her. “Either you’re really bad at this, or... or really good, because you’re killing me.”
“What I want is for you to imagine how I’d make you come with my mouth.” His lips nibbled her earlobe before he gave her the faintest grazing of teeth. And all the while his finger circled and circled, but never fully touched her where she wanted it the most. “If I were between your legs this very second, I’d want to taste you first, and I’d take my time about it. Then I’d take this slick little clit into my mouth and do...this.” He closed his mouth over her lobe and sucked it, playing with it with his tongue while simultaneously rubbing with gentle fierceness over that pulsing, hard nub.
Yes!
Ecstasy burst through her like an explosion, ripping her apart in the best possible way and making her head push back against his shoulder as she came. It was crazy and intense and glorious, and she didn’t care if the whole valley heard her cries, because she’d never felt such exquisite bliss. She didn’t even know this much pleasure was possible, it was so perfect.
Or, almost perfect.
If he’d actually been inside her, how much more intense would it have been?
God.
The thought alone ignited another orgasm on top of the first. Shudders racked her body as she gave herself over to it, and it took her a long time to come down. When she did, she was breathless, her throat hurt from crying out, and she had no idea how to survive the sudden and crippling wave of self-consciousness that hit her.
If he made any comment about her being a screamer, she’d rip his damn head off.
“Damn, woman.” He sounded as shaken as she felt by the intensity of her response, and his free hand came up to tangle in her hair so he could once again turn her face up to his. “Next time we do this, we’re face-to-face so I can watch you when you come. I have a right to see all that beauty.”
That terrible knot of insecurity in her chest dissolved as if by magic. Something inside her relaxed, and as she nuzzled her face into the curve of his neck, she wondered if it was that last line of defense she’d been hiding behind. “I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe you did that to me. I can’t believe...”
“What?”
“I can’t believe I want you to do it again.”
Satisfaction and pride burned along with a fierce hunger in his eyes as he at last removed his pleasure-giving hand from beneath her skirt. “I’ll make you scream again, and so much more, when you finally believe it.”
Chapter Twelve
“You know what’s crazy?�
�� Manny slid one clean shot glass after another onto the shelf behind the bar. It was a slow night, with only a couple customers scattered throughout The Dive. “Free jazz. No tempo, no form. It shouldn’t even be called jazz. It should be called noise. Then it wouldn’t be so confusing, because people would know it’s not actually jazz.”
“You’re in rare form tonight, Manny.” Imogene Flores sat perched at the end of the bar as usual, watching him with a smile. “What’s got you so lively?”
“It’s almost midnight on a quiet Thursday night, and so far we haven’t been hit with the Brody plague,” Manny announced, then nodded his farewell to the school principal, who threw down a couple bills on the bar before heading for the exit. “If they’re gonna show, they’ve usually done it by now. Since they’re weird aggie types, they’re probably all snug in their golden emperor beds with their silk sheets tucked nice and cozy around them, dreaming of dollars on the hoof while the little people toil away, doing all the work.”
“I’m one of those little people, and I’m paid a damn fine salary.” Dallas threw an irritated glance over her shoulder while she played Lady Antebellum’s “Need You Now” on the old upright, the lyrics of soul-deep longing echoing in her head. And I don’t know how I can do without... “The Brodys aren’t that bad, Manny. You should get to know them, find out who they are. All anyone in town knows is their name and their net worth, but no one really sees them as just people.”
“I know they grab whatever they want,” Manny said, looking aggrieved. “You’re living proof of that. Or have you forgotten how you came to be in Bitterthorn?”
Dallas sighed. She was going to rue the day she’d ever told him that story, she just knew it. “I was coming here anyway.”
“Doesn’t matter. Though it does show what a good person you are.”
“If I’m such a good person, maybe you should believe me when I tell you that they’re nice people. Though you’ll probably have the same reaction that Killian had when I told him that you were a nice person and he should give you a chance,” she added dryly, making sure he saw her spectacular eye-roll before she turned back to the piano. Let him chew on that for a while.
“Wait just a damn minute.” Manny’s voice sizzled with indignant outrage. “Killian Brody doesn’t think I’m a nice person?”
“Why would he think you’re nice? You bitch at him every time he walks through the door.”
“Because he breaks shit and tosses my customers into the parking lot.”
“He pays for the shit he breaks, and my ass hasn’t been pinched since he threw that last guy out, so basically he saved you from the trouble of me quitting on you.”
“Doesn’t think I’m nice.” Out of the corner of her eye, Dallas saw him stare at Imogene, bug-eyed. “Can you believe that motherfucker doesn’t think I’m nice?”
“Maybe if you two found something in common that you liked,” Imogene suggested with a badly stifled giggle. “You’re an interesting man, Manny. There are lots of things you could share that might be of interest to a man like Killian Brody. After all, you’ve been around the world, and so has he.”
“Yeah, but while he was jetting around in a private plane that he flies himself, I was in a bare-bones military troop transport, trying not to upchuck on my combat boots. Aw, hell,” he muttered, grabbing up a rag to furiously polish the scarred bar. “I celebrated too soon. Speak of the damn devil.”
Dallas’s fingers paused on the keys, just like her heart paused in her chest. She hadn’t been expecting Killian at least until the weekend since he’d gone out of town on business. For a second she thought it might be one of his brothers Manny was talking about, but then Killian pushed through The Dive’s heavy door, and his gaze swept the room to zero in on her.
I just need you now.
“Wow.” The word burst out of her before she thought to check it, but when a smile lit his eyes she didn’t even care that he’d heard it. He was home, and suddenly the world seemed like a happier place. “You’re back.”
“Couldn’t stand being away. Is that all the welcome I get?”
A laugh burst from her even as she rocketed off the piano bench and into his arms. His chuckle feathered her lips before he kissed her long and deep, conveying without words that he wanted to eat her alive in such a way that she’d be damn thankful for. By the time he finally raised his head, she couldn’t help but think how wonderful it would be to return the favor.
Obviously, somewhere along the way she’d lost her mind.
“Now that,” Killian murmured, “is what I call a proper welcome home.”
“What is this?” Manny stood behind the bar staring at them as if they were aliens that had beamed down from the mother ship. “Is this, what do you call it...you know, what Belle had when the Beast snatched her up? Stockholm Syndrome?”
“That’s exactly what it is,” Killian said without missing a beat. “From the moment I laid eyes on her, Dallas has been holding me hostage. Now all I can think about is her, and it’s driving me crazy.”
Manny scowled and opened his mouth, then clearly thought better of it. He harrumphed a bit and once again dedicated himself to polishing the bar. “Yeah, she’s like that, I guess. Want a beer?”
“Sure.” Killian’s brows quirked at the other man’s not-completely-hostile reply. “I’ve been traveling for what feels like all damn day, so a beer sounds good.”
“Travel, huh?” Manny gave Imogene a speaking glance before he snagged a bottle of beer from the fridge beneath the bar. “Haven’t traveled much lately, but I used to see quite a bit of the world back when I was in the military. So, uh, where’d you go?”
Aw, Dallas thought, beaming. Watching Manny attempt to be a conversationalist was a bit cringe-worthy, but at least he was trying. Let Killian try to say Manny wasn’t a nice person now.
For his part, Killian grimaced and headed for the bar, but not before lacing his hand with hers and bringing her with him. “Nowhere exotic. During this last calving season, we had some calves that are destined to be prize-winning dams and bulls. Thing is, we can’t keep them due to potential inbreeding issues, so I had to meet with some people at a livestock auction house over in Houston to make sure they knew what they were doing. It took a while to get the contract hammered out, but I think we can do business with them.”
“Did you give my regards to Houston, by the way?” Dallas wanted to know. “How is it managing to get along without me?”
Killian slid her a first-rate side-eye. “You were from Sugar Land, not Houston.”
Maybe it was her imagination, but she could have sworn he emphasized the past tense. “Sugar Land is a suburb of Houston, so it counts.”
“Houston’s really grown since I was there last.” Struggling valiantly to be a part of the conversation, Manny popped the top off Killian’s beer, then gave a shot at serving it with a smile. “I was there for Craig Biggio’s last game for the Houston Astros. I’ll never forget it—packed house, standing room only, and not a dry eye to be found. I still get choked up thinking about it.”
Killian perked up. “You like the ‘Stros?”
Manny laid a hand over his heart. “I live and breathe the ‘Stros.”
“Who’s your favorite manager?”
“Leo the Lip Durocher, though Larry Dierker wasn’t bad.”
“Wasn’t bad? He had the most winning record of that decade.”
“He made a better pitcher than a manager,” Manny shrugged. “And he makes a better commentator than all of the above.”
“You can say that again.” Killian tipped his bottle in Manny’s direction before glancing at Dallas. “What about you? Do you like the Houston Astros?”
“Um.” She blinked, trying to pull herself out of the warm and fuzzies as she watched the two men bond. “They’re a ball team, right?”
Both men stared at her before Manny made a vague choking sound. “D, you’re from Houston. How could you not know the ‘Stros? You know a little bit about ever
ything, so don’t disappoint me now.”
Good grief. “If I say that I don’t pay attention to things that are boring, will you be mad?”
“Don’t worry,” Killian assured Manny when he looked at her like she’d just kicked a puppy. “I can fix this. She doesn’t know what she’s missing, but you can be damn sure I’ll do my best to educate her. This time next week she’ll be one of us, I guarantee it.”
“How exactly are you going to guarantee that I like that team you and Manny are so crazy about?” Dallas asked about an hour later as Killian walked her up the main house’s verandah steps. Killian had stayed at The Dive until Manny decided to close up early since the bar was so dead. She and Killian then caravanned back to the ranch, with Killian’s truck behind her car. As she’d pulled up to the main house, she’d watched with bated breath to see if he’d drive on to his house.
When he didn’t, her heart began a crazy, fever-inducing dance of anticipation.
“I have a few ideas.” They came to a halt in the semi-darkness, lit only by the foyer light bleeding through the front door’s stained glass. With his eyes on hers, he reached for the key in her hand. “Though right now, the ideas I’ve got have nothing to do with baseball.”
A nervous laugh escaped her even as a tingle began between her legs. “Are you sure your ideas don’t have anything to do with getting to second base?”
“My ideas are so much more ambitious than that.”
Suddenly nothing seemed funny at all. “Like... stealing home?”
“I’m not interested in stealing anything, Spice.” He unlocked the front door and handed the key back to her, but otherwise didn’t move. “You have to give me the signal that I’m clear to take it. Otherwise, nothing’s going to happen, and the scoreboard stays the same.”
She stared at him in the dimness while the world ground to a halt.