by Em Petrova
Stretching her perfectly. She’d never had anyone as big as Lane before, and after tonight, never would again. This was her one moment of weakness she’d allow herself for the rest of her days. She couldn’t sleep with him again.
In fact, tomorrow she’d take him back to the Calhoun ranch and let him know they couldn’t see each other.
He pushed deep, touching a place that made her quiver on the verge. He seemed to know how to push all her buttons. But she couldn’t expect anything less from a man like Lane. He’d probably had more experience in his short years than she did.
Leaning on his elbows, gazing down at her, he stole her breath. A beautiful man who knew how to use his talents plus take care of a woman? He was a keeper.
For someone his own age.
He palmed her cheek tenderly that tears threatened at the backs of her eyes. She wasn’t going to let him past her wall and make her feel something for him. No way. As he rocked his hips, spearing her deep again, she watched pleasure shudder across his features.
Feeling her power over him, she met his thrust. He growled. She kissed him and ran her hands up and down his broad back. He hooked her leg higher on his hip, angling so deep that she felt split in half. She started to contract instantly, and he stiffened.
“Fuck, fuck. I want more but I can’t last. You feel amazing.” He kissed her with a fierceness that stole her breath as her release washed over her. “That’s it. Hell, I’m coming.” His back bowed under her hands and she watched him in awe as he jerked and came. Warmth filled her, extending her own release.
He kissed her long and deep, and she lost track of time and place. She drifted for long minutes, safe in his arms. He held her tight against him, breath coming fast in her ear. After a time, his breathing slowed and she came back to herself.
But she wasn’t the same woman.
She’d just had the best sex of her life with a man who was off limits. If her niece found out… if her son did…
She tried to disentangle herself from his arms, but he simply rolled to his side and dragged her close.
“Don’t fight it. You need sleep, doll. Let it come and I’ll guard your dreams.”
Fuck. She was screwed when it came to Lane Calhoun—in all ways.
* * * * *
When Lane walked into the kitchen and found Delaney leaning against the counter sipping a mug of fragrant coffee, he stopped in his tracks. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
She shook her head and buried her nose in her cup again, not quite meeting his eyes. “I have an early shift today. You’re up early.”
“Yep, animals fed and put to pasture. I’m heading into town to the feed store today.”
“I’ll give you some cash for that.”
He waved a hand and stepped up to her, edging close enough to feel her body heat. After what they’d shared last night, he’d expected a bit more of a greeting. But he got that she was trying to distance herself today.
He brushed against her, and she inched away. Luckily she stood right in front of the cupboard where the mugs were kept, and he trapped her against the counter. Leaning in to reach for a mug, he forced her to meet his stare.
“Mornin’, beautiful.”
“Lane, we need to talk.”
“About your weak ass coffee?” He held up the pot and swirled the contents that looked like a flat, watered down cola.
“Uh, no. It is a little weak. My mind wasn’t on it this morning.”
He set down the pot and took her mug from her before she could hide behind it again. He curled his fingers around her upper arms.
“Last night was a mistake. One I won’t make ag—”
He cut her off with his kiss. Plunging his tongue into her mouth and taking all the squeaking gasps for himself. She relented bit by bit until he supported her between his body and the countertop. When he pulled away, he grinned down at her dazed expression.
“You were saying?”
“I-I made a mistake. I never should have let you come here.”
He gave her a pointed look. “Because you wanted me.”
“No. Yes. Oh, shut up.”
His grin widened. Damn, she was cute when she was flustered. “For what I wanna do to you, we don’t need talkin’.” He swooped in and captured her lips again. This time she issued a harsh moan and threw her arms around him. He lifted her and settled her on the counter. She spread her legs. Through the thin cotton of her scrub pants, she was warm and wet for him.
He palmed her breasts, and her nipples hardened. She cried out and kissed him with a wildness he hadn’t let her display last night. Last night he’d wanted to take it easy and make it hot and thorough, and from what he could guess from her screams of bliss, he’d achieved his goal.
But she wasn’t taking it slow today, and he’d let her have her way.
She scrabbled at his shirt buttons until the cotton hung open. Then she thrust her hands inside and spread her silky fingers over his heated flesh. They shared a noise of need as he went for her neck, kissing and sucking while inching up her top to pluck at her nipples.
“Hurry, Lane. I need to leave in ten.”
“More than enough time.” He flashed her a smile and ripped off her shirt. It ended up on the floor as he tugged down her bra to suck those delicious tits. She cradled his head and guided him from one to another and back again. She got his cock out and in her warm hands, making him hard and aching.
“Should I fuck your ass here in the kitchen? Bent over the counter? Or should I save that for later?”
She pushed off the counter and landed on her feet with the agility of a long-time country girl. Together they shimmied down her pants and underwear. He set her on the counter again and her mug went flying, that crappy excuse for coffee streaming across the surface.
They shared a laugh, and then she kissed him like a woman who knew what she wanted and how to get it. He produced a condom from his pocket and rolled it on fast. When he dragged her to the edge and speared her over his cock, they shared a guttural groan that bounced off the kitchen walls.
“I can’t believe I’m fucking doing this,” she rasped, raking her nails over his chest.
He sank a fraction deeper and cupped her nape to drag her into another kiss. Her bared breasts rubbed his chest, sending him close to the finish in a heartbeat. He’d woken up with a hard-on and completed most of his chores with it too.
She cried out as he pulled her off the counter completely and held her suspended in his arms as he fucked her hard and fast.
“I’m coming, I’m close.” She sank her teeth into his lower lip and he churned his hips faster.
“Jesus Christ, Ma! What the hell!”
Delaney screamed and jerked in Lane’s hold. He threw a look over his shoulder to see a guy standing there, as blonde as the woman he claimed as his ma. The kid twisted away, and Delaney leaped away from Lane and started throwing on her clothes.
“Oh my God, Brant. Why didn’t you give me warning you were coming home today?”
“Didn’t think I had to, seein’ how it’s my house too. Holy hell, Ma.”
If Lane had ever spoken to his mother that way, he would have found himself on shit duty for the rest of his life. Only he wouldn’t be using a shovel.
He hurriedly pulled his jeans into place and shielded Delaney with his body. She stepped out from behind him, disheveled but clothed.
“Brant—”
“I make sandwiches on that counter.”
“A counter in my house, which you only live at during school breaks. What are you doing home early?”
“I had a free day and thought it might be nice to come see my mother.” He chanced a look around and seeing that she was dressed, turned to face them.
Lane stepped up beside Delaney and met the boy’s stare head-on.
“Jesus, not you. A fucking Calhoun? Aren’t you the guy in the magazine with all the sex positions? Is the kitchen counter one now?”
“Don’t speak to either of us that
way.” Lane’s voice came out hard-edged. He’d take his abuse but when it came to Delaney, the punk better watch his damn mouth.
Delaney ran her hand through her hair. Blonde strands floated around her face, which was pale. “Can I speak with you in the other room?” she asked her son.
Brant glared at Lane, but he wasn’t about to back down to a kid like that. He squared his shoulders and stared back. Without looking at Lane, she walked into the living room. Brant followed.
Lane released a long breath and buttoned his shirt back up. Then he cleaned up the coffee and made a fresh pot as strong as he liked. Seemed like they’d all need the caffeine to get through this. And Brant had better get over it, because Lane wasn’t going anywhere.
The kid seemed immature. He thought he knew all about the world, when he was barely old enough to drive. It still burned Lane the way he’d spoken to his mother, shock or not.
He wanted to drift toward the living room and listen to what was being said, but they deserved their privacy. Dammit, he hadn’t even made Delaney come.
Long minutes passed while Lane grew more agitated. What if she wanted to drop him because of what had just happened? She was reluctant enough about their age difference. But pushing him away wasn’t an option.
A few days before, the show’s producer had cornered him and asked him to live up to his reputation as the country’s most eligible bachelor. Like hell. The thought of being with anybody but the beautiful and intelligent woman in the other room wasn’t an option.
Lane made his own choices, and Delaney was like-minded. She wasn’t going to let her son push her into a decision to dump Lane. He shot a glance at the doorway. At least he hoped.
* * * * *
“Lane Calhoun, Ma? He’s what? Eighteen?”
“He’s older than you,” she snapped. Her son might be six feet tall and old enough to lead his own life, but she’d raised him. He wasn’t going to bully her into feeling bad about Lane.
I do that all on my own.
“I can’t believe I came home and saw my mother naked.”
“I’m a grown woman and this is my home. I will do what I want in it.” She did feel guilty about Lane, though. She really had no choice but to shut down her desires for the man and send him packing. She’d drive him back to the ranch as soon as she got some free time.
Brant paced back and forth in front of the sofa. “Did you fuck him on the couch too?”
“You will watch your mouth with me, Brant. I understand you’re surprised at what you saw, but that doesn’t give you the right to speak to me that way.”
Her son had the grace to look abashed. He hung his blond head and muttered, “Sorry.”
“Look, I don’t have time to stand around discussing this. I have to get to work.”
The phone rang, and she looked at it for a long minute, wondering if she should answer. A deep male voice sounded from the kitchen doorway, reminding her of their unfinished business.
“Ridge just texted. That’s Kashley on the phone,” Lane said.
“Damn.” She took a few steps and snapped up the phone before it stopped ringing. When she answered, she tried to keep her frustration from the previous exchange out of her voice. “Hi, Kash. What’s up?”
A hiccupping sob followed by a wavering, “I got my… p-period.”
“Oh honey.” She’d feared this moment would come. She looked up to see her son and lover glaring at each other across the room.
She sliced a hand through the air to break them apart and went to the window to look out while she spoke to her niece. “It’s a blow, I know. One that many women face before they reach their dreams. But it will happen for you, just as it does for most of them.”
“Most of them. What if it never happens? What if this endo-fucking-metriosis keeps me from having Ridge’s baby?”
“Then you’ll find another way to share children between you. Adoption or surrogacy.”
“I hate the thought. Oh, I’m so frustrated I want to scream.”
Delaney drew a deep breath—she knew the feeling. She looked at the guys, eyeing each other like mortal enemies. She definitely couldn’t sleep with Lane again. He was all wrong for her, and her son would be unbearable.
A small inner voice said, Who cares? You’re an adult. If you want a little young Lane on the side, indulge yourself.
She still ached with the need to release, but she would need to shove that back down for another day. Lane wasn’t getting close enough to dizzy her senses again, and she had to deal with her angry son, her devastated niece and still get to work on time.
She checked her watch. “Kashley, here’s what I want you to do. Are you listening?”
“Yes.”
“Distract yourself today. Go riding with your husband. Go shopping. Work with your horses. I know you have one you’re training for that autistic girl right now.”
“Yes.” Her voice was small, broken. Delaney’s heart was shattering into a million pieces.
Lane turned from the doorway and disappeared from sight. Her cocky ass son gave a smug grin that pissed her off to the tips of her toes. She gave him one of her you’re-gonna-get-it stares that had cowed him until he’d gotten to be a know-it-all teenager.
She ran her fingers through her hair again. “Relax and pamper yourself today, okay, Kashley? Try to take your mind off it. We discussed that sometimes the harder you try, the worse it gets. Your body is giving you a few days off and you can look to the future again soon.”
Kashley’s reply was nasal. “Okay. I will. Thanks, Delaney.”
“Consider yourself hugged. Love you.”
“Love you.”
Her niece’s words faded as Delaney ended the call and turned to Brant. “We’ll discuss this later. I’m late for work.” She moved toward the hall table where her keys and purse lay.
Brant’s jaw dropped. “What about him?” He waved toward the kitchen. Lane was back, holding a steaming mug of coffee as if he had every right to be there. Of course, she’d invited him, but still…
Damn, she was in a tangle.
“He’s taking care of things around here for me. We’ll talk later.” She looked between the guys. Damn, this was utter madness in her usually quiet and boring house. When she returned, she hoped to find them with all their limbs. Asking for them not to be bleeding was probably too much.
* * * * *
The ringing silence that followed Delaney’s departure made Lane shake his head. He stared at her son. He stared back.
“You’re doing what exactly around here?” Brant asked with a sneer.
“Helping your ma out. I’d appreciate it if you don’t speak to her that way. Be respectful of the woman who raised you.”
Brant’s brows shot up. “You’re seriously lecturing me about this? You’re what—five minutes older than I am?”
“Enough years to see that you’re acting like an asshole to her. She deserves better. I’m heading to get some feed for the animals.”
“Wait—what? Where’s your vehicle?”
“Back on my ranch. I came with your ma.”
“Well, you’re not taking my SUV.”
He passed by the kid and refrained from putting him in a choke hold. “No, I’m taking what used to be your broken-down truck.”
“You got it running?”
“Yeah. I’ll be back in a while. Need anything in town?”
Brant narrowed his eyes as if it was a trick question. “Nah, I’m good.”
“Okay.” He left the house, aware that Brant came to the door to watch him start the truck and drive away. The feed store was easy to find, and he picked up enough to last a month in case Delaney really did want him to leave. If this was his last day at her place, he wanted to help her out as much as possible.
Once he got back to the small ranch, he found Brant leaning on the fence rail watching the horses graze. At Lane’s approach, he looked around.
“I think Eight Ball might be limping a bit,” he said.
Lane didn’t know the horses’ names besides Rex, but he figured Eight Ball was the black one with the white circle on its side. He watched the animal for a long minute before he spoke. “When was the last time they were shod?”
“Dunno. Ma has been taking care of that.”
Then probably not lately. “I’ll do it.”
“You can shoe a horse?”
Lane stared at him. “What the hell you think I do on a ranch?”
“You’re just an actor.”
“Yeah, one who’s really good at tending cattle and wrestling steers. Look, I was a cowboy long before I was a reality star. Or even a rodeo star.”
Brant eyed him. “You plan on giving my ma the number 7?”
“You must not like your teeth.” Lane glared at him until he dipped his head.
“You’re right. I won’t talk about her that way—she deserves better.” The unspoken better than you hung between them.
“I’m not here to cause an upset between you. And whatever you think I’m doing with her, you’re wrong. There’s no agenda.” Actually, the reality show producer Andrew wanted them young and dumb when it came to Lane’s girlfriends. Being with Delaney would annoy him, and that was fine by Lane. Hell, his whole family would probably question his motives in being with the older woman.
“I like your mother. A lot.”
“My friends do too and I don’t want them fucking her either,” Brant snapped.
Lane pushed away from the fence and headed across the yard to the barn. If he didn’t get away from the kid, he couldn’t be responsible for his actions. Besides, staying with Delaney would annoy Brant too—another reason not to back off.
The thought of leaving her behind made his guts cramp. He hadn’t given a lot of thought to the path of their unconventional relationship, but he didn’t need to yet.
As far as he knew, she’d walk through that door after work and boot him out. Off her ranch, out of her bed, her life.
He’d just need to make sure that didn’t happen. As he found the tools he needed to shoe the horse, he hatched a plan. He wasn’t walking away from the only woman who’d made him feel this way.