“Room service,” someone called out after a knock at the door.
“Come back later,” Dylan immediately told the guy. “This is about a thousand gallons of wrong,” he added in a mumble, but he still went back to her.
And he kissed her.
Not an ordinary kiss. This was the prizewinner of kisses. One that should be a square to tick off on the sex bingo card. Jordan thought maybe he’d melted her toenail polish. It certainly upped her urgency for this to go well beyond the kiss.
Like to the bed.
But Dylan didn’t head that direction, a reminder that he rarely did things the easy way, but when it came to sex, he always did it the best way. He’d never left her unsatisfied, and he was already heading in the right direction to keep his record at a 100 percent in that area.
While he tongue-kissed her neck, he reached in his back pocket and took out a condom. Thankfully, he’d had another one. She wasn’t sure he would since he’d used one in the car.
“Unzip me and get this on me,” he said, giving her the condom.
For the briefest second, Jordan wondered why he hadn’t put it on himself, but she quickly realized that he was doing exactly what he needed to be doing. He had one hand on her dress that he was shoving up, and his other one was on her butt. Since the dress shoving was exposing the lower part of her body, she’d rather have him doing that than taking care of putting on the condom.
It was a little hard to maneuver, but Jordan finally managed to get her hand between them. And speaking of hard—Dylan was. As hard as stone. That made her quest a little easier since that particular part of him was easy to locate. The unzipping was a bit of a challenge, though, especially since he was continuing to drive her nuts with those neck kisses.
Which suddenly went lower.
He got her dress up far enough that he could go after her breasts, and he used his teeth to lower the cups of her bra. She’d once joked that Dylan could undress her with just his teeth, and he was proving that joke had some basis in truth.
Proving, too, that the right kind of nipple kiss could make her scream in pleasure.
Jordan bit back a scream, but her moan was pretty loud.
She finally got him unzipped, and then had to work her way past his boxers. If she could have gotten her mouth down there, she would have tried his teeth trick, but she didn’t want to lose this position just yet. Dylan moved, though. Once she had gotten the condom on him, he went lower and did some tongue playing around with her navel ring.
Her next moan was even louder.
She’d never thought of her navel area as being a hot zone, but it was. Oh, it really was.
He flicked the ring with his tongue, causing a ripple of pleasure to arrow straight down to the correct lady part for maximum pleasure-rippling. In fact, it was so good that Jordan thought she would come before she could get Dylan inside her. That’s why she latched onto a handful of his hair and pulled him back up to her.
Dylan cooperated with the return trip up her body, but he dropped some of those scalding kisses on the way. Along with ridding her of her panties. Of course, he didn’t just take them off. Merely removing them wouldn’t have been enough for Dylan. He first slid his hand into her panties, then touched her in the right place, before he shimmied them off her.
Jordan still hadn’t recovered from the touching and the shimmying when Dylan hoisted her up, bracing her against the back of the door. And he pushed into her with the same clever nimbleness as he’d done with all the other stuff.
It was heaven. Possibly other things, too. But Jordan soon lost all ability to put a label on what was happening. Basically, Dylan was just screwing her lights out and she was going with it. Going, going and gone. Because no matter how hard she tried to hang on to the pleasure, the pleasure had its way with her.
As Dylan was doing.
The thrusts lined up just right until she felt the second orgasm of the day slamming through her. This one was a two-fer, though, because Dylan came right along with her.
He pushed into her, cursed her. Then, he cursed himself before he collapsed against her, pinning her in place. Thank goodness for that, because if he’d stepped back, she would have fallen on her butt. The orgasm had turned her bones to rubber and her brain to mush.
“Yeah,” Dylan drawled with his breath gusting on her neck, “that was better than whiskey.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DYLAN KNEW THAT a shower wasn’t going to fix what was ailing him, but he ducked his head under the too-hot water and let it spew over him. Even if it didn’t improve his mood, at least he’d be clean for the drive back to the ranch.
Which had to happen soon.
He couldn’t put off what he had to deal with—that he was going to lose Corbin. That might have been a little easier to swallow if he weren’t losing him to somebody like Mack O’Malley, whose life’s mission seemed to be screwing up as much as possible. Yeah, Dylan had done his own share of bungling things, but he was an amateur compared to Mack.
Of course, no matter who Corbin’s real father was, this was still going to hurt.
God, did it hurt.
Dylan scrubbed a handful of the scalding hot water over his face. Nope. It didn’t fix squat, and now his eyes were burning. That was his cue to get his butt out of the shower and dry off so they could check out of the hotel and leave for the ranch. First, though, he had to deal with Jordan.
He owed her yet another apology for the “help me forget” sex against the wall. In hindsight, he should have opted for the whiskey. Distilled alcoholic beverages could complicate things but not as much as dicking around with an ex-wife. Jordan had been through enough without him screwing her over—and literally screwing her.
He got dressed and went back into the bedroom to start that groveling apology, but anything he’d been planning on saying sort of got lost with his sudden erection. Dylan went rock hard in record time when he saw Jordan on the bed—where they’d eventually landed after having sex.
She was sacked out on her stomach, bare assed naked, with her face turned toward him. The only part of her body that was covered was her left foot, which was under the sheet. In that instant, he remembered why he’d first been attracted to her.
And, no, it wasn’t her butt.
Especially now that the ugly tat was so close to her otherwise-perfect backside. He’d first been attracted to that face. More than beautiful. It was interesting with those soft lines, full mouth and the dimple in her chin. Her eyes had gotten to him, too. Cat-green. Jordan could say a lot of things with just those eyes.
Like now.
She woke up and looked at him. In only a blink of time, he saw the slack euphoria that came with good sex. Then the heat that told him her body wanted even more good sex. And finally, the oh-shit moment. Those cat-greens widened, and she scrambled off the bed.
The scrambling gave him a good look at her front side, which didn’t help soften his erection one bit. But he just reminded that brainless part of himself that he was out of condoms and that he had other things he needed to do.
Jordan must have realized they should leave, because she started hurrying to gather up her clothes that were scattered all around the room. Her panties were dangling from the doorknob.
As incredibly interesting as it was to watch her naked/scrambling, Dylan took a deep breath to get started on that apology/groveling. However, his phone rang before he could say anything.
“Karlee,” Dylan relayed when he saw the woman’s name on the screen.
Jordan’s groan summed up what he was feeling. He didn’t especially want to talk to Karlee over the phone, but it would probably cause her to worry if he didn’t answer. While Jordan continued to dress, Dylan answered the call and put it on Speaker.
“Don’t panic,” Karlee immediately said. “Everything is okay.”
Hell. That caus
ed him to panic. Jordan did, too, because she gasped, and then froze, her attention fixed on the phone. “What happened?” Dylan couldn’t ask fast enough.
“Corbin was running in the sunroom, and he hit his head on one of the end tables. Regina and I brought him to the ER for stitches, but he’s all finished. He wanted to talk to you, though.”
Dylan’s heart was drumming so loud in his ears and the fear was vising his chest, making it hard to breathe, but he somehow managed to answer. “Put him on the phone.”
Oh man. Corbin had been hurt. That scared the crap out of him, but Dylan tried to rein in that fear because he didn’t want to upset Corbin more than he already was. It seemed to take eight lifetimes for Karlee to get Corbin on the line, but Dylan finally heard him.
“Daddy,” Corbin said, “I got a polly-lop and a boo-boo.”
What the hell was a polly-lop? The rising panic also caused his imagination to go batshit because Dylan was fearing the worst—tumors, a cracked skull, parasites...
“He means lollipop,” Karlee interjected.
“A reen polly-lop,” Corbin interjected right along with her.
At least Dylan didn’t go into an emotional tailspin over the “reen” because he knew that meant green.
“Uh, how are you, buddy?” Dylan asked the boy.
“My head hurted so I got titches.”
Mercy, that tore away at him, and it didn’t matter that Corbin wasn’t his son. This was a child he loved, and it twisted at his gut for Dylan to think he’d gotten hurted while Dylan wasn’t there.
“It’s me,” Karlee said when she came back on. “I swear, everything is fine, and we’re heading back to the ranch now.”
No, everything wasn’t fine. Far from it. But this put things in crystal clear perspective for Dylan. Corbin was his top priority. That meant even if he couldn’t be the one to raise him, then he had to make sure that Corbin got what he needed. And what he needed was a responsible parent. One who didn’t lie and wasn’t in jail. Since that meant Adele was out, he had to deal with Corbin’s other parent.
“Jordan and I are leaving now,” Dylan told Karlee. “We’ll be back soon.” In fact, as soon as they could safely get there. Thankfully, Jordan was already dressed and had her keys in hand so they headed out the door.
“Uh, how did it go with Adele?” Karlee asked. “Did she tell you about...well, you know what?”
While Jordan checked out of the room, Dylan took the call off Speaker, and he tried to figure out how to answer that. “It didn’t go great,” he finally admitted. Then he paused. “Is there any chance you can call your brother Mack and ask him to meet us at the ranch?”
Silence. For a long time. “You don’t mean... God, you don’t mean...” More silence. “I would say a really bad curse word right now if Corbin wasn’t next to me.”
“I’ll say it for you.” And Dylan did. It didn’t help, though. “Just please see if Mack will come. If not, I’ll go to the Granger Ranch and talk to him.” Though he would like to avoid confronting the man while he was at work.
“I’ll get him there,” Karlee assured him.
“Thanks. Oh, and don’t say anything to him while Corbin’s around. There are some things I want to get straight first with Mack.”
“Of course. I want to get some things straight with him, too.” And that sounded like a threat.
Dylan felt like threatening someone, too. But like the bad word he’d just belted out, that wasn’t going to help anything. The only thing that might make this marginally better was to put the fear of an ass-whipping into Mack if he didn’t straighten up and be a good father to Corbin. That wouldn’t fix things for him, but it would help with the big picture.
A picture that wouldn’t include him.
“We could just keep having sex until you feel better,” Jordan joked once they were in the car. “Because right now, I’m not coming up with any other way to help you.”
He appreciated both the joke and her wanting to help, but right now he just needed to get home. Then he could check on Corbin to make sure he was okay and deal with Mack. In that order. It didn’t help the knot in Dylan’s stomach to know that Jordan and he had been having sex while his son... While Corbin was getting stitches.
“I’d told Adele that she needed to let Mack know he was Corbin’s father,” Jordan explained as she drove. She was definitely exceeding the speed limit, too. “But I’m guessing you don’t want to wait.”
Finally, it was an easy question to answer. “No. God knows when Adele will get around to doing that. I want to start fixing this right away.”
“Uh, fixing it doesn’t include beating up Mack, does it?” And that wasn’t a joke.
“No. He might not have even known that he got Adele pregnant.”
If so, it meant Adele had lied again by omission. And it didn’t matter whether she’d thought Mack would be a lousy father. She should have at least told him and given him the chance to see Corbin and help her take care of him. There weren’t enough apologies in the world to fix something like that.
And speaking of apologies, Dylan had his own to give.
“I’m sorry about the sex,” he said just as Jordan said, “Are you regretting you had me instead of the whiskey?”
Jordan glanced at him. “I’ll take that as a yes, but no regrets are necessary. And if you say any sort of apology about my possible fragile well-being, I’m going to yell at you.”
Okay. He’d take her mental state off the discussion table. However, that didn’t mean it wasn’t a factor here.
“The sex helped,” he admitted to her. “But if you offered it because of my possible fragile well-being, then I’m going to yell at you.”
The corner of her mouth lifted. “I offered it because I wanted sex. No other motives involved.”
He doubted that, but Dylan didn’t consider himself stupid—most days anyway—so he didn’t push it. Besides, part of him had just wanted sex, too. It hadn’t been solely to ease this heart-crushing ache in his chest.
“When did you get the horse tat on your shoulder?” she asked.
He hadn’t even been sure she’d noticed that, but obviously she had. “About four years ago. Garrett was going through a rough time and didn’t compete in the charity rodeo that year so I won. I decided to celebrate the moment with some inking.”
“You won?” She made it sound like the minimiracle that it had been. “How pissed off was Lucian about that?”
“Plenty. Of course, he said he didn’t want to win anyway unless it was against Garrett.”
Dylan stopped, remembering that it was Lucian who started the shit storm by secretly going through with that DNA test. He’d left Lucian some profanity-laced, scathing messages, but now he’d have to pull back on that particular outrage. He wouldn’t apologize—Lucian had been wrong to go behind his back and do the test. But if he hadn’t done it, then months could have passed before Adele told the truth.
If ever.
Dylan would have been in the dark. He could have continued to raise Corbin, continued to believe that the boy was his. He could have continued to be dumb and happy.
So, maybe he’d kick Lucian’s ass after all.
The drive back seemed a lot shorter than the one to the jail, but when Jordan pulled into the driveway of the house, Dylan saw something that instantly lifted his mood. Or rather, someone. Corbin. He was running around on the porch chasing Booger.
Dylan’s mood dipped a huge notch when he spotted the bandage on the boy’s head. Hell. He really had been hurt. Not that Dylan had doubted Karlee, but seeing it brought it home.
Both Karlee and his mom were on the porch, too. Both standing and obviously waiting with dour looks on their faces. No dourness stuff for Corbin, though. Once Jordan and he were out of the car, Corbin barreled down the steps, running straight for Dylan. He gave Dylan a hard, long hug
as if he’d been gone for days rather than just a few hours.
“I had a polly-lop,” Corbin announced, and when he grinned, Dylan saw that his tongue was still green.
“How’s your noggin?” Dylan forced himself to keep it light, and he tapped the unbandaged side of Corbin’s head.
Corbin laughed as if that were a fine joke. That was the cool thing about kids. They laughed even at the goofy stuff. “I got a boo-boo. Can I have ’nother polly-lop?”
“Sure. The next time we go to the store.”
Corbin clapped, clearly pleased about that. He didn’t know it, but he could have asked for the moon, and Dylan would have figured out a way to get it for him.
The boy’s joyous mood didn’t spread to Karlee and Regina, and as Dylan went closer, he could tell his mother had been crying. With everything going on in his own head and heart, he hadn’t considered that this had to be getting to her, too. She no longer had the grandson that she thought she’d had.
Karlee brushed a kiss on Dylan’s cheek. Then, on Jordan’s. “Mack’s on the way here.”
That wasn’t exactly good, but it was a necessity.
“What did Adele have to say for herself?” Regina asked. Her tone was exactly what Dylan thought it would be. Anger with a side order of bitterness.
“Why don’t I take Corbin inside?” Jordan suggested. “Maybe he can have some milk to wash down the polly-lop.”
Dylan was thankful when Corbin went right to her, because he didn’t want the boy to hear any part of this. He especially didn’t want Corbin to be privy to the conversation that would go on once Mack arrived.
“Adele lied because she thought I’d make a better father than Mack,” Dylan told Karlee and his mom the moment Jordan and Corbin were out of earshot.
“You would,” Karlee admitted without hesitation.
His mother added her own agreement with some rare profanity. “You’re damn right.”
That made Dylan feel better. Then worse. He appreciated the votes of confidence, but the other side of that coin was that confidence votes didn’t mean diddly because Mack was the one with the legal right to raise Corbin. It was ironic that a single sperm could determine that.
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