by Callie Croix
She could feel the hard outline of his erection against her hip, yet his hands were infinitely gentle on her hair, her back. He held her so perfectly, like he cherished her. It brought a lump to her throat. She was in bad trouble here, already losing her heart to him.
Raising her face, she found both tenderness and leashed passion in his gaze. It was her undoing.
Charissa threaded her hands into his thick hair and kissed him, showing him without words how much he meant to her and how much she wanted him. Dillon cradled the back of her head and groaned into her mouth, answering the stroke of her tongue.
Incredibly, the spark of arousal reignited inside her. With each caress of his tongue it grew hotter, coalescing into a tight, achy knot in her pussy. She wanted all of him, right here and now. Filling her, stretching her, taking her however he wanted. Anything, as long as it made her his.
Her hands found the seam of his shirt and yanked the snaps open, baring the sculpted planes of muscle to her hungry gaze. She kissed his jaw, his throat, nipping and licking down to his chest as the hunger roared out of control. But when her hand slid down to find the bulge in his jeans, he covered it with one of his and stopped her.
Frustrated, she looked up at him. His eyes glinted with amusement and an unmistakable sexual heat that made her breathless. “Want more already, sweetness?”
“Yes,” she breathed, tugging against his hold as she attacked his mouth. A startled squeak escaped her when he suddenly rolled her beneath him and settled his weight over her. Oh, God. That show of dominance, the controlled power of him made her crazy.
She moaned and arched into him, winding her legs around his hips to let the ridge of his cock settle against the damp ache in her pussy. He felt so good, so hard and heavy and hot atop her. Her fingers sank into his hips, urging him on as she opened eagerly for his kiss and sucked at his tongue.
All too soon he pulled away and bent and covered a throbbing nipple with the moist heat of his mouth. “Ohh,” she cried, lifting toward his mouth. Every delicious pull, every stroke of his velvet tongue resonated in her pounding clit.
He switched to the other breast, pleasuring its hard center until the sensations made her tremble and plead for relief. Finally, he raised his head and stared down at her, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths. “I’m going to hold you down while I fuck you,” he warned in a dark voice.
The words made her shudder in an agony of anticipation. “Yes. Hurry.”
He let out a low growl and sat up on his haunches to drag her jeans over her hips.
The shrill bleating of a cell phone shattered the air.
Dillon froze for a second as the sound slowly registered through the haze of lust clouding his brain. When it rang again, he cursed and grabbed for his jacket. Fucking ironic that he got reception now, way out here in the middle of nowhere, when he couldn’t seem to get it in most other places on the ranch. Even as he thought it, a knot of unease bloomed in his chest. It was after midnight. Something must be wrong. He glanced at Charissa, who’d sat up and wrapped her arms across her naked breasts. The fact she covered herself told him he hadn’t yet made the kind of progress he’d hoped for. Regret sliced through him. “Sorry, I need to take this.”
“No, go ahead.” She began straightening her clothes.
When he pulled out the phone and Deke’s number glowing on the call display, his heart skipped a beat. He flipped it open. “You okay?”
“We’re fine.”
“We?”
“Jessie and I. Black luxury sedan ran us off the road a couple miles from the ranch. Most likely drunk. Bastard made the truck behind us run into a tree before they took off. Stacey was in it.”
One of their neighbors. “Shit. She all right?”
“Nope, but she’ll be okay. Being transported by ambulance right now. Collapsed lung, probably a concussion. Baby was with her in the backseat.”
“Damn.” Dillon dragged a hand through his hair, thankful Stacey’s injuries weren’t worse. Thank God Deke had been there to help. As a former Air Force Pararescueman, he was better than most paramedics. “You need me to do anything? Contact her husband?”
“No, just wanted to let you know and find out if there were any wild parties going on that you knew about. I want to tell the sheriff something besides the plate number to help him along.”
“The Silver Star was hosting some kind of fundraiser tonight for some folks from the Country Club.” A swanky sports car would have fit in perfectly with that crowd.
“I’ll pass it on. We’re on our way back now.”
“Okay. Keep me posted.”
“Will do.”
Dillon hung up and turned to Charissa. She looked so gorgeous, her lips shiny and swollen from his kisses, long hair mussed and tousled about her shoulders. “That was Deke. He and Jessie were in an accident.”
She gasped, hands tightening around the edges of her shirt. “They okay?”
“Yeah—” His phone rang again. He opened it immediately, expecting Deke, but it was one of the ranch hands.
“Spotted a couple bonfires burning in the upper pasture,” Bill said, “and some sections of fence are busted there, too.”
Ah, shit. “Teenagers again?”
“Yes sir, near as I can figure. I think we might have lost some of the longhorns.”
“Yeah. I’ll take care of it.” Sighing, he hung up and offered an apologetic smile to Charissa.
“More trouble?”
“Just another headache for me to deal with.” But he wasn’t going to haul her up to the problem area in the middle of the night while he checked things out. The kids were likely drunk and possibly armed so they could take drunken potshots at their empty beer cans. Hell of a way to spend a Saturday night. “I have to take care of this.”
“Of course.” She hurriedly buttoned her shirt and jeans. Dillon watched her in silence, regretting every inch of skin being hidden from him. He’d been so close to having her, to making love to her the way he’d dreamed of for so many months.
“When are you planning to drive home tomorrow?” He hated even saying the words out loud, but he needed to know. After this, she had to trust him with her body, but he wanted so much more than that. A one-nighter with her wasn’t part of the plan, though he wasn’t going to blurt out everything he wanted and risk rejection right now. He was still smarting from the last time.
“Early afternoon. My dad’s already helping the contractor with the renos at my place. I promised to be home Sunday night to go over everything with him.”
That left only a few hours for them tomorrow morning. Damn it. He wanted to growl in frustration. “Sorry about this.”
Her smile was understanding, full of regret, and turned him inside out. “Not your fault.”
No, but that didn’t make it any better. He’d rather take her back to his place right now, but it wasn’t fair to make her wait there for him when he didn’t know how long he’d be or if he’d even return until morning.
“Come on,” he said, helping her to her feet as the frustration clawed at him. “I’ll drive you back to your cabin.”
Chapter Five
Holding his cell phone to his ear, Dillon rubbed his fingers over his tired, gritty eyes and waited for the call to connect. If his damn phone couldn’t get a signal now, he’d lose it. Bad enough those phone calls had disrupted his time with Charissa last night, but he’d gone all night without sleep. The fatigue pulling at him reminded him of his days in the military. At the moment he just wanted this taken care of so he could go home and grab a shower then see her again. The sun was already peeking over the tops of the eastern hills, bathing them in a reddish glow.
“What’s wrong?” Deke answered after the third ring, voice sharp with concern.
“I need you to do a perimeter check with me.”
A startled pause. “Why, what happened?”
“Someone’s been trespassing again. I found some fences cut, some cattle missing. A couple poorly tend
ed bonfires and plenty of empty beer cans.” They were lucky things weren’t worse. Though it was only early May, the ground was so dry those bonfires could have sent the entire ranch up in flames.
“Shit.” He made out the rustling of sheets in the background, a feminine murmur, and guessed that Jessie was probably in his brother’s bed. Lucky bastard. Deke had obviously spent the night getting laid while Dillon had been out corralling missing longhorns and looking for drunken teenagers.
“Why the hell didn’t you call me?” Deke growled.
“I just did.” The last thing he needed right now was to be bitched at by his younger brother. A younger brother who was no doubt more than sexually satisfied, while Dillon’s whole body was rigid with pent-up frustration. He could feel the minutes slipping past him, the window of opportunity he had with Charissa closing right before his eyes and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it until this was taken care of.
“Jesus Christ, you’re a stubborn bastard.”
All his brothers thought he was a hard-ass, so Deke’s remark didn’t bother him. “Yeah, it’s genetic. Meet me at the corral in ten.” On horseback they could cover the remaining areas he hadn’t been able to access in his pickup or with ATVs.
Dillon had Deke’s horse saddled and ready by the time his brother got to the corral.
“You shoulda called me last night.” Deke shook his head in reprimand as he stalked over.
Dillon shoved the reins at him and looked away, ignoring the censure in his brother’s expression. “Ready to do this?”
“Hell, yeah.”
Armed with rifles in case they ran into any trouble, they began the security sweep and Dillon finally filled him in on all the details. Including the part when he’d found a bunch of bullet casings amongst all the empties around the bonfire sites.
Deke was obviously pissed at Dillon for not calling him for backup, but he’d just have to get over himself. While he’d been getting busy with Jessie, Dillon had rounded up the missing longhorns they kept as a novelty for guests, then fixed the breaks in the fence by flashlight, knowing all the while drunken trespassers were out there with loaded weapons. Not that he blamed his brother for being otherwise occupied. Given the choice, Dillon would much rather have spent the night as deep inside Charissa as he could possibly get.
Deke clenched his jaw so tight Dillon could practically hear his brother’s teeth grinding. He sighed. “Before you say it, I wasn’t going to call you in the middle of the night over some punk teenagers,” he muttered.
Deke glared at him. “Yeah. Drunk, armed teenagers.” He shook his head.
Dillon shrugged. “I figured you and Jessie had already had enough excitement for one night. I had the situation under control.” His tone was clipped, making it clear the conversation was over. For once, Deke didn’t make a smart-ass reply, and he was thankful. He had enough on his mind to deal with.
They rode the fence line in silence for a while until Deke finally spoke again. “So. How are things with you and Charissa?”
Dillon’s hands bunched around the reins, and his horse tossed its head in protest at the increased tension on the bit. Immediately he relaxed his grip. “Fine, I guess.”
“Oh, that good?”
Dillon nailed him with a hard glare. “Leave it alone.”
“Okay. Sorry, man,” Deke muttered quietly.
The sun was climbing steadily overhead, beating down on them with oppressive force and creating waves of shimmering heat on the ground. Sweat trickled down Dillon’s spine, over his ribs. He raised his hat to wipe a forearm across his soaked brow. There was nothing out here to suggest the teenagers were still around, and there were no more breaks in any of the fences. The perimeter check was taken care of, but smoothing his brother’s ruffled feathers wouldn’t be as easy.
Deke had always had a chip on his shoulder, but since his career-ending injury during his last tour in Afghanistan and his subsequent divorce, he’d been like a grizzly bear with a sore paw once he came back home. It was against company policy for any of them to get involved with guests, but since Dillon had broken that rule this weekend, too—he wouldn’t stoop to hypocrisy and call Deke or his other brothers on it. Dillon was actually glad Jessica had somehow managed to break through his brother’s gruff exterior.
“You and Jessica seem to be pretty intense,” Dillon commented as they headed back toward the corral. He’d never seen Deke so tangled up over a woman.
Deke was silent a moment. “Yeah.” When his shoulders lost their stiff posture and he seemed to settle easier in the saddle, Dillon knew the verbal olive branch had done its job.
Unfortunately, he was still frustrated and restless as hell. This perimeter check had already cost him precious hours he didn’t have. He knew he’d made headway in terms of earning Charissa’s trust last night, but their time apart gave her yet another opportunity to put her defences back up between them.
All he wanted was to go to her and finish what he’d started so he could lay the final bricks in the groundwork of their relationship. The one he hoped she wanted as much as he did. It drove him nuts that he had to wait. Even at a trot, the horses seemed to plod along at an annoyingly slow pace, their coats streaked with sweat and their hooves thudding against the parched ground.
He glanced at Deke. The residual tension in his brother’s jaw told Dillon he wasn’t entirely appeased. Dillon knew why. He had taken an unnecessary risk by going out to find those trespassers alone in the dark last night. Much as he hated to admit it, Deke had every right to be pissed at him. If the shoe had been on the other foot, Dillon would have torn a strip off his brother’s prickly hide.
“You’re right,” Dillon finally muttered, staring out at the rolling hills in the distance. “I should’ve called you. I’m sorry.”
Deke glanced over at him in astonishment, then chuckled. “How’d those words taste coming out of your mouth?”
A reluctant grin pulled at his lips. “Like shit.”
When they finally reached the corral and took care of the horses, the only thing on Dillon’s mind was finding Charissa. But once he walked the short distance to the lodge, her car wasn’t parked out front.
Frowning, he jogged up the stone steps and went to the office. Ashley, the office manager, looked up with a smile.
He didn’t smile back. “Has Charissa Myers checked out?”
“Yeah, she left about an hour ago. Why? Something wrong?”
Fuck. “No.” Just that his heart had stopped beating. He kept his expression impassive. “Did she leave a message?”
“No, not that I know of.”
He could almost feel his lungs deflate. “Thanks. If Dusty calls in, tell him everything’s clear.”
“Sure.”
Stepping outside into the oppressive midday heat, he tugged his hat on and struggled to pull in a lungful of dry air. The crushing disappointment in his chest made it hard to breathe. She’d left him again without a single word. Even after what they’d shared last night. Fucking hell, that hurt.
He trudged back to his truck, slammed the door behind him, and took off for his place. Damned if he’d call her this time. This time he’d gotten her message loud and clear—she wasn’t interested. Somehow he was going to have to deal with that. Because he was done chasing after her and trying to convince her to give them a chance at a future together.
****
Closing her car door behind her just before noon, Charissa climbed out next to Dillon’s truck in the scorching hot air and smoothed down her flouncy, white, knee-length skirt as she stared at his home. Made of smooth pine logs, the modest cabin was simply constructed but tidy and well maintained. Not that she expected anything less from someone as particular as Dillon.
Though she’d planned to be on her way back to Austin by now, the need to see Dillon again had kept her here. She’d waited all morning for him to contact her, but he’d never called or sent word from one of his brothers or the other staff members.
&n
bsp; When she’d found Dusty and asked about his whereabouts, he explained that Dillon had still been busy with the security check. Then, instead of giving her Dillon’s landline number, Dusty had given her directions to the isolated cabin. That hadn’t worked out too well. She’d driven past it on the first attempt by accident and, realizing she was lost, finally turned around and out of desperation followed the faint tire tracks in the ground that led her here.
Nerves danced in her stomach as she stood next to her car under the hot sun and eyed the cabin. She knew what to expect from Dillon today. He’d made his intentions clear enough last night, and she wanted to experience it all with him. She was as ready for that as she’d ever be. But afterward...she didn’t have a clue what would happen. He cared, but he’d never indicated he wanted anything serious from her. Their lives—their worlds—were so different that a real relationship probably wasn’t going to work anyway. Still, she couldn’t quite squash the hope that rose inside her as she started for the front step of the rancher-style cabin. All she knew was she needed more of him before she could let him go.
Gathering her courage, she rapped sharply on the door and stood on the stoop to wait. Red geraniums bloomed in the window boxes along the front of the house and in pots placed along the front path. It pleased her that Dillon cared about such things, but she had trouble imagining him fussing with flowers.
The greeting she’d prepared died on her tongue when Dillon pulled the heavy door open, releasing a breath of cool air from the air conditioned interior. Wearing an unbuttoned black shirt over his bare, magnificent chest, he stared down at her with hard blue eyes. “Forget something?”
His icy tone and expression shocked her speechless for a moment, but then she glared right back at him. Why the hell was he in such a bad mood? She licked her lips and raised her chin. She’d be damned if she let him think he intimidated her.