She sighed in satisfaction. Her arms went around him, holding him to her. He half lifted to look into her eyes and saw a teardrop slide down her cheek.
“Gracie! Damn it,” he cursed, withdrawing fast. Pulling her up to face him directly, he cupped her face with both hands. “Did I hurt you?”
More tears fell, yet she smiled. She looked, well, she looked like she’d been fucked.
“No, no, Dallas,” she assured.
“Then what’s wrong, baby?” Pressing the gentlest kiss he could muster on her lips, he waited for her to slap him for pushing her too hard, too soon.
“Nothing’s wrong. That was amazingly hot,” she said. “I mean, really, on the hood of a Shelby Cobra GT. No man has ever fucked me that good.”
“No pain, no bruises?” he tested, running his fingers from her face to her shoulders.
“If there are bruises, so be it.” She grinned, the look on her face that of a satisfied woman. “You didn’t hurt me.”
Relieved, he needed to take a breather. His legs felt like he’d run a marathon. Hoisting her up into his arms, he held her close when she momentarily resisted being carried. “Relax, Gracie,” he murmured, turning around so he could park his ass on the car and set her across his lap.
Grace eased into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. “This is nice.” She fit perfectly in his lap. Her long legs draped down to the grill, and her firm, round ass cushioned his semi-hard cock.
“Real nice,” he agreed. “Sure you’re okay?”
“More than okay. I’m hoping there’s more where that came from.”
“Oh there’s more,” he promised. “A hell of a lot more, only next time we’ll be somewhere warmer.” She may not have noticed that she was trembling a little from the chill of the garage. To warm her up, he wrapped her close, inhaling her honeysuckle scent.
“Damn, I was hoping for a chance at that Mustang,” she teased. “The Road Runner, not so much. Maybe after that puke green paintjob is fixed.”
Dallas laughed so hard, he shook. Grace was right. It looked like a baby had puked mashed peas all over it. “Next time I fuck you on a car, I’ll spin you around and let you brace yourself while I take you from behind.”
“God, I hope so. It sure sounds fun the way you say it,” she said.
“Not just fun, baby. I’ll blow your mind. You won’t be worrying about the color if I do decide to fuck you on or in the Road Runner.”
“I’ve got to admit, nothing beats a well-endowed wide receiver fucking me in a muscle car. Or on it,” she said, chuckling.
“Like my size, do you?”
“Heck yeah,” she answered. “When you’re done with me, I’m never going back to an average-sized man.”
“Who said anything about being done?” he demanded, jealousy kicking him square in the gut. No way would he let another guy fuck her while they were lovers.
“Well, I realize this is only a date, Dallas,” she answered. “I know the score.”
“Do you? What would that be?”
“That for whatever reason we seem to be mutually attracted to each other. It’s a pleasant surprise.”
“Pleasant?” he repeated, the term pissing him off. “We are hot as fucking hell together, Grace.”
“Yes, we are. But this is all so new and unexpected. I suspect we’ll have a great time while I’m working your case. I’d like to keep seeing you, but I won’t be hurt when it’s all over and you move on. Don’t worry.”
Here she was offering him a chance to slow the fuck down, if only to find a way out in the long run. But Dallas didn’t want an out. He genuinely liked Grace Daniels. Part of him was scared as hell that come morning he’d panic and bolt. He sure hoped the better half of him recognized what he had right here with her.
Reaching around to grip her chin, he brought her face up. “We’re lovers now, Grace. I’m a long way from being done with my Amazon. That’s the fucking score.”
“You know, there’s no evidence to show that Amazons were even real, much less that they were taller or bigger than the norm for women back then,” she muttered with catch of pain in her voice. He’d hurt her. “Tonight, you can say that. In the light of day, things change.”
“What the fuck?” he cursed. “Stand up, put on my t-shirt and your panties, nothing else.”
He helped her stand. “Maybe you should take me home, Dallas,” she said, moving away to find his t-shirt and her panties. She put on both. His shirt fell to her thighs.
Quickly, he removed the condom and tossed it in a trashcan by the wall. He was not going to take her home. “We’re going to talk about the Amazon thing later. Right now, get your pretty ass into my house before I turn you over my knee and spank you until you come.”
Grace made a dash to the door, looking real cute in his shirt and the panties. He could just see a flash of white. “You can’t do that, right?” she asked, breathing a little hard.
“There are many ways, so, yeah, I can,” he answered.
She turned away and was reaching for the door when a deep bark came from inside the house.
Chapter Four
Grace heard the ominous barking beyond the door and trembled. Something that made that sound was huge. “Ah, McKay, there’s a monster in your house.”
“Nah, baby, it’s Max.”
She glanced back to see that Dallas had put on his jeans. His magnificent hair hung loose around his shoulders. His muscles were sculpted and lean, as she knew from when he fucked her on the hood of his car. She’d been right about his necklace. It was a choker made of turquoise and silver. At the center of his throat was a wolf pendant that hung down only about an inch.
He was a gorgeous man who was so much more than muscle and athletic speed. Once more, her heart took a crazy little flip-flop. Looking at him turned her blood to lava. They’d already had sex on the car, but she wanted more.
Really afraid that her heart was in serious jeopardy, Grace would enjoy the night and turn to his case in the morning. Tomorrow night, they’d go out. Likely, he’d be sweet and charming. Maybe they’d date until she finished his case. She hoped so. But soon he was going to be tired of hefting her around or comparing her to a group of mythological warrior women. He’d see her for what she was.
Last time that happened had been four years ago. She’d decided then she didn’t need a man. Even then, her orgasms were self-driven, with the guy she’d been dating completely unaware that she’d done all the work. So why not take matters into her hands and buy a vibrator? Her toy collection was now quite vast. And that made her very, very sad. Dallas McKay had made her feel like a vibrant sexy woman and she didn’t want to go back to being alone.
“Go inside, Grace, nothing can hurt you in there,” Dallas said, stepping up behind her.
“I’m going.” She grabbed the handle. Dallas put his hand over hers, helping to turn the knob. “What about the rest of our clothes?”
“I’ll get them and your briefcase later,” he said. “Go, or that ass is mine.”
He tapped her on the butt in warning. Grace rushed through the door.
She came into a lighted kitchen large enough to feed a ranch full of hungry cowboys and discovered the biggest dog she’d ever seen in her entire life waiting for them.
Her heart melted on sight. “Oh aren’t you the cutest thing,” she praised the Great Dane. “He’s a harlequin, right?” Predominately white, with irregular black patches and black ears, he was beautiful. And huge!
Dallas came inside. “You think that beast is cute? Yes, he’s harlequin. I’d had a brindle up until two years ago and wanted a change.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Dallas,” Grace said.
The dog woofed urgently, wanting attention. He was amazingly well behaved, though Grace saw some drool coming from the corners of his mouth.
“It’s ok, Gracie. This guy helped me recover from losing Chancellor.”
“Aw, well, I think you are cute!” Going further, she offered her hand. Max came r
ight up to her and she scratched his ears.
His massive head came up to her elbow. He was all lean muscle and strength and purely masculine, like Dallas. His muzzle was soft and warm.
“He’s so well behaved,” she commented. Max did a funny little dance, his tongue lolling out to one side. “Wait a minute, he must have to go! No wonder he was barking so insistently.”
“We’ll take him out the back,” Dallas said. “Come on, big guy. How’s my boy?”
Max lumbered alongside his master. His tail wagged frantically. Lights came on in the house as they walked through the kitchen toward the rest of the house.
Grace had only begun to study the beauty of the farmhouse kitchen furnished with a butcher block dinette table, marble countertops, top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances, a six-burner stove and griddle and two side-by-side ovens before she reached the entrance to the great room.
“Oh wow,” she whispered, awed by the fact that the wooden flooring was warm wherever she stepped. Dallas probably had radiant heating installed. “Dallas, did you design all this?”
“I consulted my brother,” Dallas answered. “He’s a builder who specializes in log cabins.”
Dallas had gone to a back door to let Max out of the house. Grace stayed right where she’d walked in, looking up, down and all around. The back where the dog went out was tremendously beautiful with floor to ceiling windows. Wooden window panes divided the glass vertically. Lights had gone on outside for Max, but she didn’t go look out the back to watch him.
She would later. She wanted to experience everything the cabin had to offer, including the array of dog beds and plushy toys strewn about that belonged to Max. Opposite from where she stood there was a grand staircase made of pine that spun from the floor to a second floor. Looking toward the front of the great room, she saw the same floor to ceiling windows, but a front door resided in the center.
“How do you clean windows like these?” she asked.
“My housekeeper, Jeanie, she takes real good care of this place, as well as Max when I’m away from the home,” Dallas said. “When she cleans the windows, she brings help. She also leaves meals for me in the freezer to heat up if I can’t cook myself.”
“I don’t envy her the task of cleaning the windows, but more power to her,” Grace said. “Your home is amazing, Dallas McKay.”
“Thank you, Gracie, that means a lot to me,” he said, the slide of the door opening and the heavy pat, pat, pat of Max’s feet telling her the dog was back.
All around the great room, the décor was an eclectic blend of masculine leather and oak furniture, combined with antiques and artwork that were both cowboy and Native American. Overhead, yellow pine beams dropped down from vaulted ceilings. To the left of the grand front window was a stone fireplace. Thick, brown rugs, dog beds and three gigantic beanbag chairs were spread before the hearth.
The entire cabin was made of white and yellow pine. She recalled the outside of the house was made of stone and logs, with sculpted gardens surrounding a farmer’s porch. She’d imagined what it would be like to relax in one of the big rocking chairs she’d seen. When Dallas parked in his garage, she’d seen his muscle cars, especially the Shelby, she knew her heart was in serious trouble. She’d no idea going into this blind date that she’d have so much in common with him.
Shaking her head to bring herself back to the present, she looked right. Down at the end of the great room was a hallway that led to a room she guessed was a game room because she saw a pool table way down there.
Hearing herself whistle, she was drawn to the room. “Dallas, your brother’s a genius.”
“He is. He did great on the design,” Dallas said, suddenly walking beside her.
“Where’s Max?”
“I sent him to bed,” he answered.
Grace walked with Dallas to the game area. There was a regulation-sized pool table that looked to be from an actual pool hall. A stained-glass light hung above the table. In addition to the pool table, there were two arcade games and a pinball machine. In one corner, a round wooden table with a green felt top was set with chips and playing cards.
“Planning on a big poker game?” she questioned. The table looked to be used and worn, actually adding to the relaxed atmosphere of the game room.
“Ricky, Kyran and my agent, Alex Grant, come over frequently during the season. Sometimes it helps to blow off steam after a bad loss or a grueling practice.”
“I can imagine you all sitting around the table with your cigars.”
“Nah, not a big smoker, myself,” Dallas replied.
“But you’re a collector of antiques.” Antiques and his unique Native American and cowboy influence were all over the house. The walls of the game area were decorated with Sioux and Plains Indian memorabilia, including paintings of Sitting Bull and Black Elk, as well as a ceremonial headdress that she assumed was Sioux. She’d recognized the paintings of Sitting Bull and Black Elk from her college history course. Since her father was an American History professor at the University of Maryland, she was silently pleased that she recognized the men.
The portrait of Black Elk was closest to her. His name was inscribed on a silver plaque attached to the frame. In another corner of the room was an authentic carousel horse, adorned with a Western-style saddle and bridle. A brass pole kept it in place on a heavy, metal, round base. The pole went up to the ceiling. Grace glanced up, instantly noticing the mechanism that made carousel horses go up and down. “Dallas, does the carousel horse move?” she asked, going up closer.
“As a matter of fact, it does,” he said.
“Amazing, simply amazing,” she murmured. Everything about Dallas’ house felt warm and homey and inviting. She’d only seen the first floor. She guessed the bedrooms were upstairs.
“What other surprises do you have?”
Dallas pointed to a soda fountain. “I stock it with ice cream and I can make cream sodas and root beer floats or milkshakes.”
“This room is meant for fun,” Grace replied.
“Would you like some ice cream, baby?” he offered, strolling to the soda fountain.
She wasn’t hungry. But she could still taste some of the spices from dinner. Ice cream would help. “I’d love some. What flavor?”
“Let’s take a look,” he said, beckoning her to come around to his side of the fountain. He opened the freezer door. “There’s Neapolitan and mocha almond fudge.”
Grace would enjoy them all. “A small bowl of the Neapolitan sounds perfect.”
Dallas found two bowls in a cupboard beside the freezer. He drew them out, along with an ice cream scoop and two spoons. Quickly, he dished up what she’d asked for. He chose mocha almond fudge.
“Here you go,” he said, pushing a bowl toward her.
“Thanks.” Grace picked up the dish and a spoon. She ate chocolate first. It’d always been her favorite flavor, yet she’d found that eating vanilla and then the strawberry expanded the taste. “How’s yours?”
“Pretty good,” he said, having just swallowed a bite. “Yours?”
“Delicious, especially the chocolate,” she answered, then tasted another spoonful. The cold flavor was exactly what she needed after the spiciness of dinner.
“I figured you’d like chocolate. But I’m not surprised you like a blend of flavors too.”
“The same could be said for yours,” she pointed out. “By the way, I really do like your home. I bet I could explore it for days and days and still find something interesting to look at.”
“I’m real glad you like it, Gracie.” He took another bite. He watched her eat, making her a little self-conscious, but he wasn’t being intrusive. He seemed to like what he was seeing.
In fact, he had to reach down to adjust his fly. Holy smoke, either he was really pleased with his ice cream or he really did like her. Dallas was hard again. There was no mistaking the generous bulge behind his fly.
“I’m sure other women have complimented your home,”
she said, dragging her gaze away from his tented fly and back to her bowl of ice cream.
“You’re the first, Gracie,” he said, totally surprising her.
“I’m the first what?” About to scoop up another bite of ice cream, she saw that her hands were trembling and quickly set the bowl on the countertop of the soda fountain.
“The first woman I’ve had here.”
“I…um…oh,” she stammered, realizing how serious he’d been. Her heart tripped wildly in her chest. “Can I ask why? If it’s none of my business, forgive me.”
Dallas set his half-eaten ice cream beside hers and moved in close. Placing his hands on the counter on either side of her, he caged her in. But Grace didn’t feel trapped. She felt welcomed, like she’d come home.
“You’ve the right to ask,” he assured. “After Robyn, I hadn’t wanted more than a few dates with a woman. I thought I’d told you earlier.”
“You did. I didn’t realize that you hadn’t, you know…” Feeling herself flush hotly, she tried for calm. Maybe a bath in the ice cream would help.
“Slept with them? No, I didn’t,” he answered for her. “I haven’t wanted to fuck just to scratch an itch. Now I can’t stop thinking of ways I want to fuck you, Gracie,” he added, his smile returning in full force. Someone should register his grin as a lethal weapon. It was certainly dangerous for her peace of mind.
“You already know about my sad lack of a love life,” she commented. “At least, until tonight, that is.”
“No regrets about the car?” he asked, letting go of the counter to run his right hand through her hair.
She shook her head no. Nothing had ever happened to her like that. Grace would relive it every night and in every fantasy for the rest of her life.
“Then I want you to tell me something,” he told her, the return of the Texan in him warning that he didn’t want anything but an honest response. “What does the name Amazon mean to you?”
Grace really didn’t want to answer that. But she knew she would. Dallas continuously combed his fingers through her hair. As a teen, it’d been unruly. She’d made the mistake of trying a spiral perm, hoping for the beautiful curls she’d seen on cover models. But since she’d been primarily a tomboy as a kid, she didn’t know how to take care of it. The style had been a disaster, creating not beauty, but a mass riot of curls that stuck out of her head in a thousand directions. It’d been that attempt at style that cemented the nasty nickname from her classmates.
FieldofPlay Page 7