by Jillian Neal
“It’s perfect.”
His lips formed a half-smirk that brought another flood of heat to her cheeks, though she couldn’t explain what about their exchange had elicited her reaction. She cursed her bright red hair and fair complexion for showing off her every thought.
“Might want to see the inside ‘fore you decide that. It’s unlocked. Give me this,” he lifted the food from her hands, “and scoot on in out of the wind. I’ll get your bags.”
Easing inside the dark house she tried to imagine what Grant’s days must look like. The ranch still had no power and the moon was slightly obscured behind another layer of clouds. When she bumped into something hard she stumbled forward, but once again he was there. Dropping her bags to the floor, he caught her in his arms. She hadn’t heard him come in. “I gotcha, sweetheart.” Someday, she hoped she would be able to explain to him what those three words did to her, how they affected her, how much it meant to know it was somehow true.
“Sorry,” she offered. “It’s my hearing. Makes me a little clumsy sometimes. I get dizzy.”
He brushed a kiss along her forehead. Her eyes closed in contentment as she grasped his biceps, letting the feel of his sizeable muscles steady her. “I imagine it has more to do with the fact you ain’t ever been in here, that I’m kind of a slob, and that it’s so dark you couldn’t see your own hand in front of your face. Stay right here. Let me light some lanterns and get a fire goin’.”
Begrudgingly, she pulled her hands from his arms. “Hurry,” slipped from her lips without her permission.
She received another grunt, one she hadn’t quite heard before. Hunger and impatience were communicated in that quick, frustrated sound. Her pulse sluiced through her veins far too quickly, as if her heart couldn’t quite keep up.
Kaitlyn instinctively turned her head to hear the strike of the match and the pop and hiss of flame. It was one of her favorite sounds. When he touched the fire to the wick on several lanterns and then blew out the match, she inhaled deeply, reveling in the smell.
“What are you grinning about now, beautiful?” What the hell? Grant had no idea how her every smile threatened to bring him to his knees. God, he couldn’t help himself. His body responded to her every breath. Every cell, every muscle, every hair was honed in on her like she directed the beats of his heart.
“It’s my favorite smell and it used to be my favorite sound.” Her grin expanded the width of her beautiful face.
“What is?” Surely she wasn’t talking about him. He had to smell like cow shit, hay, cattle feed, and sweat at this point. Certainly nothing worth wanting to inhale. He had to figure out how to bathe before he could make good on his promises to her.
“The smell when you blow out a match and the sound when you light it.”
“How come they’re your favorite?”
“Because it means something good is about to happen. Like lighting the candles on a birthday cake or lighting candles for a romantic night.” She shrugged. “Something like that.”
Her body was silhouetted in the lantern light, and he swore in that moment he’d set himself on fire to have her … forever. He’d set the whole damn world on fire for her. They could sit and watch it burn. “How come it’s not your favorite sound anymore?” He knew the answer. He just couldn’t believe he could ever be this lucky.
“Because I heard your voice and,” she stared down at the hardwoods like she wasn’t certain they would continue to hold her upright, “now it’s my favorite.”
Beside her in a heartbeat, he gently tilted her head up so he could stare into those gorgeous blue eyes. “Look at me.”
“I am,” she barely managed the words.
“I know this is quick and makes no damned sense at all, but this means something. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I can hear you. I can always hear you.”
“That ain’t what I meant and you know it. I know you can hear me, but do you understand that this, us, together, it means something.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
“It scares me … a little. I’m still not very brave.”
“Hush.” He captured her unnecessary fear and worry with his mouth. He’d starve them until they vanished from her in entirety. He wouldn’t allow anything to scare her ever. He’d feed her dreams and show her that she was capable of anything she ever wanted to do. She never had to be afraid. He would never let her fall. He would never allow anything to hurt her ever again.
Her lush lips moved in rhythm with his. Her hands wound around his shoulders, clinging to him. He cradled her tighter, deepening the hot, open-mouthed invitation she extended. He drank her in.
She rocked her sweet little body against his. God, he needed more. She tasted like the sweetest sin and the most seductive angel he’d ever known. Hot breath tempered with a soft hunger filled his mouth. Craving greed surged through his veins. She was his and every fiber of his being longed to explain that to every intimate part of her thoroughly and repeatedly.
Her sexy curves melted into him. His heart thundered in his chest. She was so soft and so damned beautiful. His entire body vibrated against hers. The marrow of his bones shook with need.
She pulled away with a gasp of breath. “Grant, what’s wrong? Why are you shaking?”
Incoming regret taunted him on the periphery of the all-consuming greed that had taken up residence in his cock. Dammit, get it the fuck together, Camden. This is different. She just told you she was afraid. His muscles flexed anxiously. His cock staged a revolt against his better judgment.
“Grant?”
“I’m sorry, sugar. Jesus, I’m trying not to rut on you like I’ve lost any damned sense I ever hoped to have. Just give me a minute.” He tried to draw deep breaths, but only succeeded in bringing her sweet scent of strawberry seduction to his lungs. He grunted in frustration. “I ain’t feelin’ too fucking gentlemanly right now, and you deserve a helluvalot better than the way I want to take you.”
“How do you want to take me?” She trembled against him, but he’d succeeded in building that wildfire in her eyes once again, the one he swore was going to be his undoing. Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth, and her hellcat side made an appearance when she ran her fingertips along his zipper line, taunting him. “Tell me.”
He growled out his warning. “Hard, fast, rough, fuck you so hard you ache and the only thing that makes it feel better is more of me. I want to use you, which I ain’t gonna do. I swear I could own you all night and still not get enough.”
Her eyes closed and a choked moan escaped those perfect pink lips. Dammit all to hell and back. She was going to kill him.
“But that’s exactly what I want. My whole life people have treated me like I can’t do anything. Like I’m too delicate to get dirty. I can’t hear so I’m already broken. Everyone has to be careful with Kaitlyn. Maybe I want it rough. Maybe I want to be fucked so hard I can’t walk. Maybe I want you to show me exactly what you want. Maybe I want to be used. Maybe I just want to be taken dirty and rough and all those other things you said. You ever think of that?”
“Filthy words from such a pretty little mouth. I’m gonna make you wrap those lips around my cock and suck me dry and that will just be the beginning.”
“Good.”
“And I call the shots. Where I want you, how I want you, and when I want you. Whatever I say goes.”
“Yes.” Her vow was a half-strangled breath. Her eyes darkened in the lantern light. Her nipples were drawn so tightly they strained against her shirt, so tight she had to be in agony.
Beyond any ability to reason with himself, he gripped his cock and tugged against the denim, desperate for relief. The single stroke did nothing to help.
“I could do that for you. Just show me how.”
“You telling me you never had your hand on your shithole of an ex’s cock? Don’t lie to me, Katy.”
“I did, but it was never like this with Seth. I never ….”
“You never what?”
“I never wanted him the way I want you. No one’s ever made me feel the way you make me feel. That’s why I’m scared. But I used him, too, you know. It wasn’t just him using me.”
“Good. But I ain’t finished with my warnings. There won’t be one part of your gorgeous body that won’t belong to me. Understand that I’ll push you. I’ll take what I want.”
“That’s what I’m asking for.”
“One more thing you need to know, you remember me telling you I don’t do nothing in half-measures?”
She gave him a single nod.
“I meant that. I work damned hard. I do the work of ten men and I like it that way, but I play even harder. I like sex. I like a lot of sex. And I know sex with you will feel so fucking good I won’t be able to think about anything else. It’ll be better than anything else I’ve ever felt. And I’ll make it so good for you, baby girl, I swear to you, but know this, I’ll want you morning, noon, and night and I won’t back down. This might make me a possessive shitlicker, but I told you I’d never lie to you so here it is, you don’t get to change your mind and walk away. I don’t do too well being told no. You’re mine. You understand that?”
Chapter Sixteen
Holy mother of all of the saints. Kaitlyn had never even in her wildest dreams imagined there was a man anywhere who could make her entire body throb just from speaking. The words he said. The honesty in his graveled tone. Like he’d picked a script out of her darkest fantasies and brought them to life with the rasp of his voice.
A single brain cell attempted to reason with the rest of her body. It tried to inject panic over allowing someone else to tell her what to do, letting someone else order her around. That was how she’d spent most of her life, after all, but everything about Grant said this was different.
Besides, her reproductive organs reasoned, this was exactly what she wanted, and she was so tired of denying herself the very things she craved.
“I want you more than I want to draw my next breath, Katy Belle, so if any of that ain’t gonna work for you, speak up now.”
Another gush of wet heat soaked the crotch of her panties. She shuddered, hyperaware of every sensation he brought her. Her skin was raw with fever. She longed for his touch. “Grant?”
She got a half grunt of impatience in response. “I’m so wet it hurts. Take me. Please.”
Like a wolf capturing his prey, he conquered her, bringing her down to his couch in one quick movement of muscle. “I ain’t fucking you until I’ve at least had a shower. This ain’t the kind of filthy we’re gonna be tonight. But I sure as hell won’t have my baby needy and wet, hurtin’ for me. I’ll make it feel better, sugar. I’ll make everything better.”
“Yes,” hissed from Kaitlyn as he overwhelmed her senses. His eyes were dark pools of liquid heat, scorching her as he ravaged her mouth with a kiss that she swore sent jolts of electricity down to her pussy. His hands flew over her like he couldn’t quite decide where to touch her first. She bucked against him and a predatory growl shook from his lungs.
His muscles flexed and rippled under her fingertips as he stripped the yoga pants down her legs. When he tossed them to the side, Kaitlyn tried to think only of how good his hands felt on her bare legs, but she couldn’t. She spread her legs voluntarily as his fingertips teased along her inner-thighs making her weak, but her brain wouldn’t get on board. “Grant … my pants … they’re going to catch fire.”
“What?” He jerked away and saw the dangerous proximity of the black cloth to the nearest lantern. “Shit.” Rectifying the situation seemed to temper him. He stood and started pacing.
“No, please, just come back. Do more of that,” she whimpered.
“Dammit, no. You deserve more than this, and I’m sure as hell not saying that because I think you’re delicate so get that thought right on out of your head.” His right hand rubbed the back of his neck like he could somehow massage patience into his head.
Mutiny stormed through her. “Why is it you get to decide what we do and when we do it?”
His eyes narrowed and a wicked half-grin formed on his features. “Believe I just told you that’s how it works when you’re with me, sugar. And I believe you just gave me the go ahead. No backing out now. But sweetness, you’ve got marks on your legs and neck from your seatbelt. And I know you got bruises on your chest. I saw ‘em when you whipped your shirt off on the tractor and I nearly embarrassed myself. I’m filthy. And you’re cold. Just let me do this right.”
Her body seemed determined to take up his banner. She shivered involuntarily. “Ugh, believe me you were doing a hell of a job of heating me up.”
“Baby doll, I’m gon’ keep you nice and hot for me, and we’ll get plenty dirty, but we’re gon’ do this right. Let me get a fire going. Let me feed you. You worked your ass off today. Then I’ll figure out how to get cleaned up, take you to bed, and I ain’t ever gonna let you leave. I have half a mind to go get some rope from the barn and tie you to it have my way with you over and over again.”
Grant had only made the last comment to try and prove to her that he wasn’t calling this off because he believed for one moment that she was weak, but the flash of excitement in her eyes and slight purse of her lips said she was intrigued.
His cock gave another hungry pulse. Clenching his jaw, he damned the mental imagery of her tied up in his bed straight to hell before he located some rope.
Fire in the fireplaces first, then they could go about setting his bed on fire. He ordered his steps to the massive, four-sided, stone fireplace that sat in the middle of his home, dividing the living room, kitchen, and dining area.
Impatience still agitating his resolve, he made quick work of stacking enough logs to heat half of Lincoln county. “I need some kindling,” he commented to himself as he grabbed a lantern and searched his kitchen counters. A stack of papers shoved in the corner of his desk in the kitchen caught his eye. Grabbing them he headed back to the fireplace.
“Wait. What are those?” Kaitlyn, still wearing nothing but a t-shirt shredding any lick of determination he’d managed to summon to keep from taking her hard and fast, leapt to his side.
“Some ridiculous things the city keeps sending me.”
She jerked them out of his hand.
“Katy, I’m looking to get a fire going, get you fed, and then get you to bed. Give me them.”
“No. Grant, are you serious? These are certificates thanking you for being a youth football coach for the past ... five years. You cannot burn these. I didn’t know you coached football.”
“They needed a coach for the peewee league. I like football. I don’t need awards for helping out.” He held out his hand for the certificates.
“You are not burning these. Did you used to play football?”
He fought not to roll his eyes. None of this mattered. “Yeah, in school. I left Coach Chalmers high and dry when I dropped out. I always felt bad about it so when he asked me if I’d coach two of the city teams, I said sure. Give me the damn papers.”
“No.” She spun out of his reach.
“Katy, what’d I tell you about telling me no?”
“You are not burning these. Were you the quarterback? Keith was our high school quarterback.”
“Nah,” Grant sighed. “Luke was the star quarterback when he was there. My cousin Brock played receiver. He could’a gone pro if his daddy wasn’t such a piece of shit. He ain’t fit to shoot at when you want to clean your gun. Austin’s the big time rodeo star, PBR buckle and all. I was just a running back. So, see, no big deal. Give me them papers.”
“Running backs take the ball from the quarterback and run, and you also catch the ball, and you sometimes protect the quarterback. You can’t play the game without them. They’re very important. And coaching kids is an amazing thing to do.”
“You like football?” Sweet girl was full of surprises.
“Kind of. It’s a heck of a lot better than golf. It’s fun to wat
ch sometimes.”
“I won’t make you watch it with me.” He still hadn’t determined what she meant when she talked about Old-Kailyn and New-Kaitlyn, but he didn’t want her doing anything that she didn’t want to do.
“I don’t mind. Here,” she scooted carefully to one of her suitcases that he’d stacked by the kitchen door, “Burn these. I would really love to watch them go up in flames.”
Furrowing his brow, he accepted a stack of envelopes and napkins. Stepping closer to the largest lantern he read the inscription—Seth and Kaitlyn. Bile singed his throat. “Gladly.”
“Those were extras they shoved in my suitcase.”
“You wanna do the honors, peaches?” He offered her the match.
“Oh, hell yeah.” She gave him that sexy-as-sin grin and struck the match against the box. The audible friction seemed to delight her. “See, I told you good things almost always happen after you strike a match.” She touched it to the napkins, which caught fire immediately. They melted through the invitations and ignited the wood.
Chuckling, Grant headed back into the kitchen. “I’m gonna start calling you my sexy little arsonist.”
“I’m already in trouble for keying his ridiculous car. Burning his house down might sound appealing, but I should probably limit my felonies for a while. Plus, I just don’t care. I never want to see or hear from him again. It’s like you said, I’m glad I found out before I walked down the aisle. It’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Kaitlyn didn’t care anymore that she was saying too much or pushing too hard. She knew what it was like to live in your brother’s shadow. How Grant ever believed that he was somehow not as important as his brothers was incomprehensible. He was the living embodiment of her every fantasy, and he’d rescued her from a life she’d orchestrated right to hell.
She refused to believe he would only be her getaway ride and rebound lover, but if that was all he ever wanted, they were still worth it. If he was nothing more than the person who taught her the difference in boys and men, that was more than anyone else had ever given her. And somehow she knew he was so much more than that. Perhaps there were boys, and there were men, and then on an entirely different plain, another existence altogether, there were cowboys.