Then his palms drifted down to her ass. He squeezed a butt cheek in each hand. “Don’t get me started on how long I’d spend worshiping this ass. Bet these soft, sweet cheeks would love to feel the rasp of razor stubble against them.”
She groaned and let her head fall back in surrender.
“You’ve got a pair of legs that goes on forever, so I’d give them their proper due.” Dalton watched her face as his hands slid up from her knees. Resting the heels of his hands on her inner thighs, his thumbs stroked her pussy. “But this spot right here? I’d save for last. I’d spread you wide and kiss every inch. Then I’d let my tongue come out and play. Maybe my teeth.” He knew he hit the right spot beneath the fly of her jeans when she gasped. He pressed his thumb in and rubbed side to side. “I’ve all sorts of plans for you, Aurora. But not until you give me the green light.”
“Umm…it’s bright fucking green right now.”
Dalton laughed. He leaned forward and kissed her as he removed his hands from temptation. “We’ll test that response another time, when my hands aren’t on you, okay?”
“You’re serious.”
“Yep. I want you, I’m dyin’ for you to be honest, but you’re not ready.”
“Ready for what?”
He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. “Ready for me. For how I’ll be when you’re completely mine.”
A strange look came into her eyes and vanished. “Dalton.”
“Aurora.” He kissed her and lightly tapped her ass. “I need to git.”
When she didn’t budge, he rolled to his feet, his hands on her ass, lifting her with him.
Rory shrieked. “What are you doing? I’m too damn heavy for you to cart around like a log, McKay.”
He ignored her protests and carried her to the front door. His lips moved to tease his favorite spot at the base of her throat before he set her down. As Dalton slipped on his jacket, he asked, “Will I see you before Friday night?”
“You’re serious about crashing my girls’ night out?”
“Yep. They can have you for a while. Then you’re mine.”
Rory traced the edge of his jaw. “There’s some caveman showing, McKay.”
He shrugged. “I ignored my natural instinct to drag you into the bedroom by your hair.”
“I probably wouldn’t have resisted much.”
“You’re getting very close to the limit of my control.”
“Sorry.” She smooched his mouth. His dimples. The tip of his chin. “I’m glad you came with me tonight.”
“Me too.”
“Drive safe. I’ll text you or call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Sure.”
Halfway back to Sundance, Dalton saw a pickup parked on the shoulder with the hood up. He automatically pulled in behind it and got out.
The windows on the inside of the pickup were all fogged up. Maybe that’s why the driver hadn’t known Dalton had stopped to help. He rapped on the window.
A girl shrieked and a deeper voiced shushed her.
Not good.
The door opened. No interior light came on. “You okay in there? Havin’ car trouble?”
A lanky dark-haired teenage boy jumped out. “Yes, sir, the battery…” The kid stopped speaking. “Dalton?”
He peered at the kid’s face. Blue eyes, dark hair, rugged, yet boyish looks. No doubt. This kid was the spitting image of his father. “Jesus. Kyler, is that you? All grown up and shit?”
Kyler threw a look over his shoulder and slammed the pickup door. “Yeah, it’s me.”
When his eyes narrowed, he looked so much like Cord that Dalton had to laugh. “Fancy running into you out here. What’re you doin’ at ten on a school night?” He couldn’t believe Ky was old enough to drive.
“I was takin’ Jocelyn home and the battery, ah, just died.”
Dalton lifted a brow. “The truck just crapped out in the middle of the road while you were driving it? ’Cause that sounds more serious than just a battery issue.” He paused. “Is your dad on his way to get you?”
Pure panic spread across Ky’s face and he shook his head. “I haven’t called him.”
“All right. No bullshit. Why haven’t you called him?”
“Because I told him I was at Ryland’s house studying and…”
“You were out here sucking face with Jocelyn instead? And you got so involved with sucking face that you forgot you’d what? Turned the radio on for a little mood music and drained the battery?”
Kyler hung his head. “Yeah. Dumb, huh?”
“Yep.” Dalton had done the same thing once and still remembered the nasty shit Casper had said to him for months afterward. He doubted Cord would do that to his son, but Dalton wanted to save the kid from punishment and embarrassment. “What did you plan to do?”
“I was waiting for Ryland to call me back. He was looking for his dad’s jumper cables so he could drive out here and give me a jump. If that didn’t happen, then I was gonna call my dad.”
“He’ll be more pissed that you lied than anything.”
“I know. I never do this, I swear.” He looked over his shoulder again. “But it’s Jocelyn Mears,” he said her name reverently. “She’s like the hottest girl in the senior class and when she said we oughta do something tonight…dude. It’s my chance with her so I had to take it.”
Dalton sighed.
“You’re gonna call my dad, huh?”
“Nope.”
Kyler’s head snapped up. “What?”
“I’ll give you a jump and send you on your merry way, but there are a couple of conditions.”
“Name ’em. I swear I’ll do anything.”
“First, no more lyin’ to your folks about this kind of stuff. You wanna spend time with a girl, talk to your dad and tell him it’s important. Tell him it’s Jocelyn Mears. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
Kyler looked as if he didn’t believe him.
“Second, I could use a gopher on the house I’m fixing up. I’d expect you to help me out after school, let’s say once a week.”
He nodded vigorously. “Sure, no problem. I can do that.”
The driver’s side door opened and a girl jumped out. “Ky? What’s going on?”
Jocelyn was a very pretty girl—dark hair, dark eyes, a dark hickey on the side of her neck.
Kyler said, “This is my cousin Dalton. He’s gonna give us a jump.”
“Oh. Okay.” She rubbed her arms. “It’s getting cold in there.”
Kyler immediately took off his jacket. “Here. This’ll keep you warm.”
Smooth, kid, real smooth.
Jocelyn offered Kyler a dazzling smile. “Thanks.” Then she crawled back in the cab.
Yeah. Dalton had been thrown for a loop by a smile like that a time or ten in his life. Poor Kyler hadn’t stood a chance.
He clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get that beast running so your girlfriend doesn’t freeze and your dad doesn’t send your Uncle Cam out lookin’ for ya.”
Chapter Eleven
Friday night in the Golden Boot with Rory wasn’t going as well as Dalton had hoped.
She sighed. “We’ve been sitting here alone together for ten minutes and no one has wandered up to chat.”
“Don’t you mean to ask us questions that ain’t none of their business?” Dalton countered.
“It’s Sundance, Dalton. You gotta expect we’re being gawked at and gossiped about.”
“We can leave and go someplace else if you’d rather.”
Rory shook her head.
The stiff way she held herself and the way her eyes darted around the room gave him the impression she didn’t want to be here at all.
“I didn’t mean to chase your friends off.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Yes you did.”
“Was it that obvious I wanted you all to myself?”
“Only to me. And it was sort of pissing me off, the way Vanessa drooled over you.”
“Drooled,” h
e scoffed. “Right.”
“You are looking particularly drool-worthy tonight, McKay. Nothing sexier than a cowboy in a crisp white shirt, a black hat and a pair of Cinch jeans.”
“How much had you been drinkin’ before I got here?”
“Not nearly enough after the week I had at work.” She drained her drink.
“Special project turning out to be not so special?”
“Frustrating. It’d be easier if all the paperwork came directly to me, but of course it’s gotta be officially stamped in Cheyenne and then forwarded to me so I can log it in which is a gigantic pain in my ass.”
“So that’s what you and your friends discuss on Friday nights? Your crappy work week?”
“No. We’re usually trolling for…” Her mouth snapped shut. “Never mind.”
Dalton swigged his beer, trying really hard not to scour the bar and check out his competition.
“What have you been doing the last couple days?” she asked.
“I worked on the house. They delivered the furniture on Thursday. Planned to do a couple other things but the week got away from me.”
“I know how that goes.”
“Have you eaten?”
“Yeah. Ordering bar food is a habit since I’ve worked in so many bars over the years.”
He sighed. “There goes my chance to wine and dine you on our date.”
“I don’t expect that from you.”
“But you deserve it. And I want to give it to you. How about if we dance?”
“Let’s go.”
He slid out of the booth and took her hand.
She led them to the middle of the dance floor. “None of that fancy two-stepping stuff or western swing you cowboys are fond of.”
“So we’ll just sway together?”
“For a little while. Is that okay?”
“Very okay.”
They didn’t speak through three songs, just moved together in near perfect synch. Their physical closeness and the lack of conversation attuned his senses just to her. The gradual softening of her body against his. The increased tempo of her heart. The quicker intake of her breath.
He brushed his lips over her ear. “I like havin’ you in my arms. Have I mentioned I love that you’re tall?”
She laughed softly. “No.”
“Well, I do. We’re a perfect fit. In every way.”
“Tell me what you’re really thinking,” she said dryly.
“I’m thinkin’ the scent of you so close to me is driving me insane.” Dalton ran his nose along her neck. “Sweet and musky. And goddamn do I want the scent of you all over me.” He wondered if she’d stiffen after that confession, but she melted into him.
“Dalton.”
“Aurora.”
“Nobody calls me that but you.”
“I can call you that all the time, if you’d prefer.”
The soft warmth of her breath on his neck sent a tingle down the right side of his body. “I like that you call me that when we’re alone and you’re being romantic.”
Although the band picked up the pace with a faster song, they continued dancing slow.
He murmured, “Will you come home with me tonight?”
Rory tensed but didn’t answer.
So he continued dancing with her, like it wasn’t killing him to have her curvy body plastered to his. His cock behaved as long as he didn’t bury his face in her sweet smelling hair, or fill his lungs with the addicting scent of her skin.
When the song ended, he released her hand and stepped back. “I’m ready for a drink, how about you?”
Rory blinked those beautiful green eyes, confused he wasn’t pressing her on tonight’s sleeping arrangements. “Sure.”
Dalton led her off the dance floor to their booth. He slid across from her rather than next to her.
Since it wasn’t busy, Cindy, the waitress who’d worked there since Dalton could remember, stopped by immediately. “Another round?”
“I’ll switch to Coors Light. Rory, you want another whiskey sour?”
“No. Tell Lettie to make a tall half 7UP, half sour mix with a splash of orange juice.”
“Got it.”
“You’re done drinking for tonight?”
Rory lifted a shoulder. “Wasn’t feeling it right now.”
“What are you feeling?”
“Like I need a clear head before I decide whether or not to go home with you.” She closed her eyes briefly and inhaled a deep breath. “Between you and the booze…”
He fought a frown. “What about me?”
“Being close to you packs a powerful punch, Dalton. The way you move, the way your deep voice seems to burrow into me and sets off these little electric charges under my skin.”
Now Dalton fought a huge-ass grin. “I’m liking the direction this is goin’, sugarplum.”
She slapped her hand on the table, startling him. “And then there’s that.”
“What?”
“That sexy way you tease me. Sometimes it’s blatant; sometimes it’s sweet. You keep me off balance.”
He reached for her hand, bringing it up to kiss her knuckles. “What would tip you the right way into spending the night in my bed?”
Rory laughed. “See? There it is again.”
“And yet I’m not hearing an answer from you.” He kissed the inside of her wrist and lightly nipped the base of her thumb. “You really haven’t made up your mind yet? After the time we’ve spent together?” He placed a kiss in the center of her palm. “Or maybe I should point out all the time we’ve spent apart. You haven’t imagined how it would be between us now?”
“Of course I have,” she said a little too quickly, which seemed to annoy her.
Cindy dropped off their drinks. “Sorry to bug you, Dalton, but there’s a woman at the bar who says she knows you.”
“Is she a relative of mine?”
“No. She’s a blonde with big…” She paused and amended, “She’s blonde.”
Dalton never looked away from Rory. “What’s she want?”
“To buy you a drink.”
“Tell her I’m not interested.”
“Will do.”
Rory let go of his hand to pick up her drink. “Aren’t you the least bit curious about who it is?”
“Nope.”
“Not even to look over there and see if you recognize her?”
“Nope. Now that’s settled, can I please have your hand back?”
She frowned. “What?”
“You have two hands. I’d like to hold one of them.”
“Why?”
“Because I like touching you, Rory. Even if it’s just holding hands.”
Rory exhaled a put-upon sigh that was totally bogus before she slid her arm across the table. “Happy now?”
“Been happy since the moment this date started.” Dalton threaded their fingers together. “How’s your virgin drink?”
“Good. I noticed you haven’t touched your beer.”
“Sorta sorry I ordered it, if you wanna know the truth.”
“I’ll share mine.” She nudged it to the center of the table.
“Thanks.” He slid the straw between his lips and sucked. “Not bad. So what’s your favorite drink to make?”
“Martinis. There are so many variations with all the different flavors of vodka. There’s this bar in Ft. Collins that has one hundred and seventy-five flavors of infused vodka. I had an amazing Skittles martini with such cool presentation—a rainbow-colored sugared rim, a swizzle stick speared with candy and bright blue liquid.”
“How’d it taste?”
“Like candy. I could’ve gotten totally shitfaced on them.”
Dalton grinned. “I felt the same way the first time I tried expensive scotch. I wanted to steal the whole damn bottle and drink it down. But I figured it wouldn’t taste so good coming back up.”
“I remember you had to deal with that issue with me that night in Laramie.”
He stroked the b
ack of her hand with his thumb. “Over and done with. Goin’ forward, not back, remember?”
Rory brought their joined hands to her face and rubbed his wrist against her cheek. Then she dragged an openmouthed kiss up his forearm. “Funny you should mention wanting to hold my hand. Seems I have a thing for your hands too. So big. So strong. I’d like to feel these rough-skinned hands all over me.”
Outwardly he went still. Inwardly he was so revved up he had to speak slowly so his voice didn’t waver. “What are you sayin’?”
“That I’ll spend the night with you.”
Dalton immediately dug out his wallet and threw a twenty on the table. “Let’s go.”
“But you haven’t even touched your beer.”
He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and brought her close enough to kiss. “I’d rather be touching you. We’re leavin’. Now.”
Somehow he managed a leisurely pace out of the bar when his legs wanted to sprint.
He stopped beside his truck.
“Dalton. Wait.”
He ignored the sinking feeling in his gut and faced her. “What?”
“We met here, remember?”
He’d forgotten that. “Do you want to leave your car here or drive it to my place?”
“I’ll drive it. I’ll follow you.”
Dalton crowded her against the door. With his hands curled around her face, he could stroke her stubborn jawline. “I want you. I’ve wanted you for years, especially after the number of ways I’ve always fucked things up over the years…” He inhaled a silent breath as his eyes searched hers. “I’m goin’ home. You know where I live. Show up or don’t. But I ain’t gonna pressure you.”
Rory’s hands inched up his chest. “Wanna know a secret?”
“What?”
“I’d intended to decline the invite into your bed.”
That sucked. “What changed your mind?”
“For once your actions spoke louder than words.”
He waited. It fucking killed him, but he waited for her explanation.
“When that mystery blonde wanted your attention, you didn’t give it to her. Your eyes never wandered that direction. Not even one time. You didn’t make a charming excuse about needing to use the bathroom just so you could see who the heck she was. The Dalton I used to know? He would’ve drained his beer within two minutes and said, ‘Hang tight a minute, sweet thang, I need another beer. I’ll go up and get it.’ Then you would’ve left.”
Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders) Page 12