“Elongating the spine is key to flexibility in yoga. Since you can’t get your heels on the mat it’s all right to keep your knees bent. Drop your head between your arms. No, not that far. Ears by your biceps. That’s it. Now stay like that. I’ll adjust your hips.” Rory widened her stance, setting her feet beside Dalton’s hands. She flattened her palms on his lower back and pushed.
Dalton grunted.
“Feel the difference in that stretch?”
“Uh. Yeah.” His arms shook and stopped supporting his body, so when he dropped to his knees, Rory’s hands slid over his butt.
His perfectly round cowboy butt. She wanted to dig her fingernails into that hard, tight flesh. When he flexed his butt cheeks like he’d read her intentions, her hands fell away.
Dalton lifted his head and her crotch was in his face. Right at his mouth level. So close she could feel his rapid exhalations between her thighs. So close it would only take a slight tilt of her pelvis…
Their eyes met.
The hunger in his sizzling blue gaze had her retreating.
Rory strolled to her spot, trying not to imagine the rough stubble on Dalton’s face abrading the inside of her thighs. Or how she’d direct that smirking mouth exactly where she wanted it and put that sassy tongue of his to good use.
Her gaze met Dalton’s and he licked his lips. Had the man been reading her mind?
Probably. Because face it, Rory, you’re pretty damn transparent.
She shook herself out of it and worked through the final stretching exercises before instructing her students to grab their straps for cool down.
Normally savasana was her favorite part of class. Stretched out on her mat, eyes closed, remaining motionless as her mind drifted into blissful nothingness after a hard yoga workout.
But tonight, her thoughts were focused on a hunky man five mats away. A man who’d taken her suggestion about getting to know her seriously. A man it was getting harder and harder to shake off. She wrestled with the truth that she didn’t want to shake him off. She liked his attention.
People around her began to get restless—her sign savasana was over. She coaxed everyone out of the relaxation state and finished the practice in lotus position with Namaste.
The yoga group didn’t stick around to chitchat after class. Vanessa pointed to Dalton, waggled her eyebrows and mimed call me before she scooted out the door.
Leaving Rory and Dalton alone.
She wandered over. He remained in savasana on his mat. “Dalton? You all right?”
“No,” he groaned. “You wrecked me. I can’t move. I think all the muscles in my body have seized up and you’ll need to take me to the ER.” He groaned again.
“So you’re admitting yoga is hard?”
“Hell yes.” Dalton cracked an eye open. “Wasn’t there supposed to be chanting? Sitting around doin’ deep thinkin’ about life and shit?”
Rory laughed. “In some yoga disciplines there’s meditation and chanting. Not in this one.”
“I’m a pretty fit guy. And this class kicked my ass.”
“I’ve heard that a lot. Come on. I’ll help you up.”
“No. I’m good. The padding on the floor ain’t all bad. I’ll just sleep here tonight. Or I’ll be dead come morning.”
“Dramatic much? Since you’re the last one here, by default you’re selected to help me put away the equipment.”
“Mmm-hmm. Give me a day or two to get back to normal.”
“Dalton.”
“But if I die…dyin’ was worth it.”
“Excuse me?”
“Seeing your ass in yoga pants? Definitely worth havin’ this post-yoga paralysis.”
Rory leaned over and thumped him on the chest. She shrieked when Dalton’s hands circled her biceps and he tugged her to the mat, rolling to pin her body beneath his.
“Omigod, you pervert. Get off me.”
He grinned. “Say please.”
“I’m so gonna kick your ass, McKay.”
“Bring it, but I’m pretty sure I’ve got you locked down, yogi.”
She studied him. God. She could get lost in the masculine planes and angles of his face. The man was just too damn good-looking. Her gaze dropped to his full lips. Lips that could be hard and yet soft. Lips that could coax and tease. Full lips that showcased his panty-dropping smile. Lips that were curled into a very cocky smirk. “Were you faking?”
“Nope. My body aches like a motherfucker right now.” He bent to nuzzle her neck. “I wanna taste you, Aurora. Lick the salt off your skin.”
Why was this turning her on?
Then Dalton’s tongue snaked out and swept down the side of her throat. His deep, male groan vibrated right down the center of her. “I’m dying to learn every inch of you with my mouth.”
Rory’s body arched when his lips connected with the skin below her ear.
He murmured, “Want you, need you, have to have you. Goddamn, woman, the way you respond to me is such a fucking turn-on.”
Somehow her brain came back online. “I figured you were turned on with the way your cock is digging into my belly.”
His lips brushed her temple. “I’ve got a better idea of where I could put my cock so it’d be out of the way.”
“It’d still be in my way and hard for me to talk since I’m pretty sure you’d like to shove it in my mouth.”
“Mmm-hmm. But that’s not my first choice of where I’d like to put it.” His lips moved down the side of her face, his teeth nipping at her jawline. Her chin. He eased back and looked into her eyes, their mouths a breath apart. “You gonna let me kiss you?”
“Wow. You’re asking? That’s a first.”
“And that right there, smart ass, is why I don’t ask.” Dalton pinned her arms above her head and captured her lips.
No sweet start to this kiss. His mouth assaulted hers with pure hunger. A wet, hot clash of tongues, of gliding lips and shared breath.
So much passion. The kiss would’ve knocked her to her knees if she hadn’t already been lying down. Her body reacted to this man—a blood-pumping, dizzy, wet-between-her-thighs reaction. Just when she’d begun to wonder why they hadn’t stripped, why his mouth wasn’t on her nipples as his cock rammed into her, Dalton ripped his mouth from hers.
He buried his face in her neck and a full body shudder rolled through him. Then he sighed—his breath a hot wash on her damp skin. “I want you like fuckin’ air, Aurora, but not here. Not like this.” He placed a soft kiss below her ear and pushed upright.
That show of control was not how the old Dalton would’ve acted. He would’ve sweet-talked her into believing no one would catch them fucking around.
Proof right there that he had changed.
Sad to think she hadn’t changed when it came to him. With his hard body on hers and those intense kisses clouding her brain, she would’ve gladly ditched her clothes and fucked him right there on the pink yoga mat.
Show some restraint.
Problem was, she didn’t want to.
But somehow she did. She rolled to her feet. “You are dangerous, McKay.”
“Me? Why do you say that?”
“You know why. I don’t care if you’re sore, you will help me return the equipment to storage.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
After she’d shoved everything in the closet and locked it, she slipped on her jacket and gloves. “So you think you’ll become a regular at yoga class?”
“We’ll see if I’m alive tomorrow.” He buttoned up his black duster. “Speaking of tomorrow…what are we doin’?”
Rory eyed his ensemble. Black gunslinger duster, neon orange hat with fuzzy earflaps. His bare calves stuck out from beneath the duster and he wore white athletic shoes and black socks. He was a prime example of what not to wear—so why was she thinking that he looked so damn cute?
Because you’re a fucking sap and this man can’t wait to tap you.
“Since when do we spend every evening together?”
Her argument dried on her tongue when she realized he’d said that almost with…pride. “That may be problematic tomorrow night since I’m having supper with Addie and Truman.”
“Great. I’ll come along. I need to clear the air with them anyway.”
“So you don’t think it might, oh, bother my best friend that I’m coupling with the guy who dumped her?”
“Oh, you and me ain’t even started coupling yet.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Of course I do. But you have my promise I wouldn’t hurt Addie again for the world. She never has to know the real reason that I walked out on her was because of you.” He stroked her cheek with a gloved finger. “No one besides us ever needs to know that, Aurora.”
Such a sweet man.
Stop that. Right now. He is not sweet. He’s a manipulative heartbreaker.
Despite the warnings, she found herself saying, “I’ll talk to Addie tonight.” Rory poked him in the chest. “But if she or Truman don’t want you there, you don’t get to whine about it.”
He scowled. “When the fuck do I ever whine?”
“You used to—”
“I used to do a lot of shit that I don’t do anymore. Proving to you I’ve changed, remember?” He poked her chest right back. “If Addie and Truman won’t welcome me into their home I’ll suck it up and act like a big boy. I’ll probably write a poem about hurt feelings, broken friendships and the rocky path to true love.”
Rory’s eyebrows rose. “A poem? Really?”
He laughed. “Fuck no. But I did have you worried there for a sec, huh?”
She whapped him on the arm and exited the building.
No surprise that Dalton walked her to her Jeep. No surprise, either, that he laid a big, wet steamy kiss on her before whispering good-night.
But it wasn’t a good night. Rory tossed and turned in her bed because she couldn’t get the man out of her mind. This thing with Dalton was driving her batshit crazy.
She mentally corrected the word thing and inserted his preferred term: relationship.
Goddammit. How had the man invaded her life and her thoughts so completely that her word choices weren’t even her own? The fact she then heard his confident little male chuckle in her head was just another example of why she was so completely screwed up by all of this. In her book, and in her experiences with one Dalton McKay, screwed up equaled screwed over.
Now the man was acting like he was in love with her, for Christsake.
In love.
With her.
As if he’d always been in love with her.
Yeah, right.
He’d been in lust with her, but that wasn’t exactly news since the manwhore had been in lust with any number of women over the years.
She’d replayed their conversations from the past week on the drive home. More questions bounced around in her brain than answers.
If it’d been a one-time thing between her and Dalton—like the night she’d given him her virginity—she could blame him. But she’d slept with him two other times.
The night she’d spilled her guts to him about her mom’s financial woes. They’d both been slightly drunk and had no business climbing between the sheets, but they had. From what she remembered…the sex hadn’t been that good, just sloppy, quick and regrettable.
And yes, Dalton had been gone when she’d woken up hung-over as hell the next morning. And yes, he’d used the information she’d shared in a drunken rant to try and screw over her mom. Typical fucking McKay. So it’d been a double betrayal.
But had Rory learned her lesson?
Of course not.
When Dalton had shown up out of the blue at her place in Laramie two years later, a dejected man, admitting he’d been second-guessing everything about himself and his life, she’d taken him in. She’d listened to him. Offered him reassurance. She’d shoved aside the bad parts of their shared past and reminded him he’d always been able to confide in her.
But Dalton hadn’t wanted his old friend Rory. He’d wanted the woman, not the girl.
And she’d been so mesmerized by his intensity and by his desire for her that she’d been powerless to resist when he kissed her like her mouth existed strictly for his pleasure. When he’d touched her body as if it was solely his to worship. When he’d whispered such sweet and hot promises she’d wanted so desperately to believe.
The sex that night? Whoo-boy. Dalton had seemed equally blown away that it’d taken them two times to get it right. She’d naively hoped they’d started a new chapter in their lives.
But Dalton had reverted to his love-her-and-leave-her persona, except that time, she’d caught him trying to sneak out in the middle of the night.
Infuriated, Rory had knocked him on his ass as he’d been putting on his jeans. Then she’d morphed into crazy—shouting threats at him, while he was prone on the floor covering his junk with one hand and his head with the other.
Not her finest hour.
Especially not when she’d locked herself in the bathroom because she couldn’t stand to see him walk out on her again. After her crying fit, she’d stared at her red-rimmed eyes and blotchy face in the mirror, then she’d scrutinized the suck marks on her neck and repeated, “Never again, Douchebag McKay,” until her hatred overtook her hurt.
So things had turned ugly between them every time they’d crossed paths after that incident. Dalton had too much McKay pride to apologize for who he was and Rory had too much anger to let it slide.
Once Sierra had stepped in, keeping Rory from taking a swing at Dalton’s pretty face—even when he’d sworn he’d only been trying to apologize.
But she had no choice except to be civil when Addie and Dalton became engaged. For all intents and purposes the groom and the maid of honor had avoided each other—not that anyone noticed.
So Dalton’s confession of why he’d ditched Addie at the altar had knocked her sideways. Even when that time, she knew he hadn’t been feeding her a line. Remembering the look in his eyes at that moment still gave her chills.
Now here he was acting like nothing had changed. Like he’d just been waiting for her to get her shit together.
Wrong.
Dalton had run out on her too many times for her to take his insistence he’d changed at face value. He’d leave when it suited him—like he always did, regardless of who it hurt.
But this time it could be different—because she was different. Rory wasn’t some starry-eyed eighteen-year-old with visions of forever. She had goals and dreams and no man would ever get in the way of them again. Living in Sundance, working at the WNRC wasn’t anything more than a temporary pit stop on her way to something better.
So Dalton wanted her—no surprise. She wasn’t immune to Dalton’s charms—a fact he was perfectly aware of. As much as he’d use it to his advantage, she’d use it to hers too. Let him try and convince her he’d changed. Let him prove to her sex between them would be off the charts fantastic.
After all the shit he’d put her through over the years, she deserved every bit of his sexual attention and expertise. She had no delusions about what she wanted from him; hot sex, companionship on her terms that didn’t interfere with her career goals. She could reap all the benefits and take none of the risks.
Because she’d be the one walking away from him this time with her heart and her pride intact.
Chapter Ten
Stay cool.
Dalton tried to pretend he was calm about seeing Addie as he parked in front of the house she shared with Truman.
After all, three years had passed since he’d left her and left town. She’d married one of his best buddies and according to Rory, was perfectly happy with her life. He knew she’d never forget what he’d done, but had she forgiven him?
He’d opted to show up early to clear the air. He rang the doorbell. Dang. Should he have brought flowers?
Too late now, he thought as the door opened. “Hey, Addie.”
Addie squinted through the screen. “Dalton? What’re you doin’ here? Supper isn’t for another hour.”
“I figured maybe you and me oughta talk beforehand.”
It appeared she might slam the door in his face, but she grudgingly said, “You’re probably right.”
“Thanks.” He stepped inside. As in most ranch houses, the door opened into the living room. He paused and wiped his boots.
“I’m in the kitchen putting everything together for tonight,” she tossed over her shoulder and disappeared around the corner.
Once he’d settled at the kitchen table, he got his first solid look at Addie. She didn’t look much different except for her pregnancy. He smiled. “Smells wonderful in here.”
“Nothin’ fancy, I assure you. I’m too tired lately to do more than throw food together.”
“You look great, Addie. When’s the baby due?”
“Two months. We’re having a little boy.” She rubbed her belly, as so many pregnant women did. “Would you like something to drink?”
“A glass of water would be great.”
Addie filled a glass and sat across from him.
“Thanks.” He wet his dry throat.
An uncomfortable pause lingered.
There was no way to ease into this, so he jumped in. “I’m truly sorry for the crap you had to deal with after I didn’t go through with the wedding.”
She folded her arms over her chest, her brown eyes unreadable. “I had no choice but to deal with it since you skipped town.”
“Skipped town, chased out of town…big difference. Although I was a brawler back then, my body couldn’t take any more punishment from people who beat the shit outta me on your behalf.”
Her face paled. “What happened?”
“Your family, your coworkers, your current husband,” he said dryly, “all took turns whaling on me.”
“Dalton. Are you serious?”
He gave her a suspicious look. “No one bragged about it? No one told you they had your back and they’d taken care of me?”
“No! My god. I had no idea.”
“I admit I didn’t fight back because I probably deserved it. Except for the scuffle with Truman. I hobbled around for two days after he finished with me.”
Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders) Page 10