Loving a Bad Boy (Bad Boys Western Romance Book 4)

by Susan Arden

  Seriously, who makes plans to be reckless? The whole idea went against her grain. Made her grind her teeth, curl her fingers, and purse her lips.

  “Can we talk over there?” She pointed toward an empty table and he nodded, moving his hand to her elbow and leading her off the dance floor. She waited until they were off to the side and met his expectant gaze before speaking. “There’s no excuse. It’s just daunting. To hear a plan. Number one, us dancing. Next we leave. Then we go somewhere. While we’re driving there, we’ll be nervous—or maybe it’ll just be me. But anyway, we’ll get to wherever we’re going and then what? We undress, already knowing what’s going down.”

  “So. What’s the problem?” His fingers lingered on her skin. “If I say yeah, but it’s not on your terms, then it’s a no-go. Sounds like a control issue.”

  “Not true. Can’t you see what I’m saying?”

  “You’re against us planning. But I didn’t say boo about what we’d do when we left. Hell, I don’t have a clue. So if there’s a plan, I don’t have it. Didn’t get the memo, baby. I just want to be with you. Damn, I need to be with you tonight. Sommer, let’s go get naked.”

  Sometimes Rory knew just what to say. And now was one of those times. “Where do you want to go? Since neither one of us has our own place.”

  “My cousin has a cottage. Or my brother’s place. But those are out on the ranch.” He held her gaze. “We’d have to do something you might not like.”

  This only gets better. “Like what?”

  “Hearing that you’re dead set against plans.” He canted closer. “Sugar, we can’t go hog-wild. We need some boundaries and can’t cross them because being naked blows our minds. Which by the way, I fully expect to do with you as long as we set some limits.”

  His fingers were on her, burning through her shirt. “Like what?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Nothing more than oral. You okay with that?” He shot her a scorching look that had her melting next to him.

  Rory McLemore was going to go down on her if she agreed to what he proposed. Umm. Let’s see…HELL YES! She wanted to smack herself for badmouthing the downside of planning. This type of list kicked up her craving for her cowboy into overdrive.

  She swallowed, raising her right hand, and pledged, “I promise.”

  “Then let’s go, Kincaid,” he said and led her toward the fire exit. They rushed through the doorway with an alarm buzzing over their heads, and neither of them slowed their pace. For a second, she couldn’t focus and didn’t see where his truck was parked, but apparently he did. When she faltered, he turned toward her and gave her a ravenous look. “I can carry you, if needed.”

  “I just didn’t know where your truck was parked.”

  Rory jutted his chin to the side. “Over there.”

  They walked in between cars and he steered her toward the passenger side of his truck. After opening her door and lifting her up into the cab, he hesitated for a millisecond. His eyes lowered to her legs, followed by his fingers straying to her knees, pressing her legs wider as though he were considering what she was about to give him.

  Oh God, she wanted him to touch her and stroked his hand. “Rory,” she said his name, unsure what to do.

  “Tonight, I’m going to taste you.” A muscle ticked along his jaw and he swung her legs inside, before closing her door. She watched him come around to the driver’s side and climb in. All the while, her pulse clattered loudly in her ears.

  Rory flipped up the console and patted the seat next to him. “Over here.”

  Sommer slid along the leather, cool against her bare thighs. The sensation heightened her awareness of how damp her panties were and how much she’d waited for and wanted this day to arrive. Seemed like forever.

  She scooted toward him and admitted, “I’m nervous.”

  “Don’t.” Holding out the seatbelt, he reached over her lap as soon as their legs touched to buckle her in.

  “But what if we can’t hold back.”

  He lowered his head a hairsbreadth above her mouth. “I could fuck you tonight—all night—but I’m not going to. If you don’t do as I say, I’ll stop and take you home. I’m so close to exploding, but I’d do damn near anything to prove to you that we’re good together. I want you to be my wife. The mother of my babies. The woman I grow old with. I might be young and a McLemore, but I know what I want. It’s you, Sommer. Always has been. Always will be.”

  Then he kissed her mouth, sealing their lips, and locking them together. His words were like silk ribbons tied into a perfect bow. The happy-ever-after and the innocent little girl deep inside her wanted to believe. Dreams can come true.

  If only she were someone else. Generally, that wasn’t the case lately.

  Why on earth did he want her? She didn’t know what was coming after her next breath, and he was looking into the future. The long way off kind of view. How did he know they would stand the test of time? She gave up thinking and gave into the erotic stroke of his tongue wedging open her lips. Tonight, she’d have to hold back from wanting him to fill her completely. “Please,” she silently prayed. Give me the strength to steer clear of hopping aboard the crazy train once he touches me.

  Chapter 7

  Rory drove along the highway and turned off the exit they’d taken hundreds of times before. Yet tonight was far, far different from the same old drive. The air inside the truck all but crackled from the silent sexual tension building between them.

  Oh Jesus. What if they saw someone from his family? She didn’t even think to ask which cousin. If he was talking about a brother’s empty house, it would have to be Brandon’s. She already knew Brandon was away with Mia, his fiancée. They were in Dallas for the weekend to complete Mia’s wedding gown fitting. Both Sommer and Rory were part of the wedding party, and she already had her bridesmaid’s dress. Her mind spun through the details, and suddenly screeched to a stop.

  “What if it feels so fantastic that we want more?” she asked when he turned the corner and the sign for Evermore Ranch flashed overhead.

  He slowed the truck at the street—really, a narrow gravel drive that forked. One side veered off, going behind the barns. The other side ran along the fence line, right up to Brandon’s home. She’d been there. Ate there. Toasted the birth of Stephen and Jillian’s baby girl a few months ago. Don’t keep going with that line of thought, Sommer. I won’t be able to kiss Rory, forget doing anything hotter.

  “We won’t do more than going down on each other. If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.” He stroked a knuckle along her jaw.

  “I want to. It’s just I know it’ll be really good. Unbelievably good.” She lowered her gaze to her fingers, fiddling with the hem of her skirt.

  Gently, he squeezed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Baby, we don’t have any birth control. I’m not going to fuck you all the way and risk getting you pregnant. We won’t become a cliché. Trust me.”

  “I do…trust you.”

  “Then c’mon. Let’s take us deeper.” He stepped on the gas, and in seconds they were parked in Brandon’s driveway. Rory didn’t waste time. No sooner had he parked, than he was coming around to her side of the truck.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as soon as he opened her door.

  “A guest bedroom. That okay?”

  She nodded, looking up toward the front door. “They won’t get mad…will they?”

  “Not in a million years. Mia and Brandon are cool.” Rory led her toward the front of the house. The landscaped beds on either side of the walkway were recently planted along with new flood lights installed and made her feel as though she were walking on stage and her stomach tightened. A memory from acting in high school plays flashed in her mind—only there wouldn’t be any applause tonight.

  Up ahead, Rory unlocked the door and disarmed the alarm, holding it open for her. He waited until she was inside, then followed after her, closing and locking the door. “Y
ou want a drink? Something from the bar? I’m sure there’s everything under the sun here.”

  “Nothing. I’m fine.” She felt tiny in the foyer, and smaller as they walked into the living room with the tall, exposed beam ceilings. Twin leather couches formed an open seating area, bracketing a low-slung cocktail table with magazines spread on top. Therapy journals for Mia. She’d just finished her graduate degree and had opened a small practice in town.

  Right now, Sommer needed to get her head checked. How had she believed—for a red second—that this was going to be a walk in the park? She tried to remember a magazine article she’d read once about how to drive a guy crazy, and couldn’t recall one word of advice. Maybe something about using ice…or was it hot water? Or did that have to do with a Jacuzzi?

  She’d be the worst at giving— She couldn’t even think the term. Fellatio, a wicked voice whispered and snickered.

  Going down on him.

  Giving head.

  A blowjob.

  A heat wave scorched over her face. Just stop.

  Rory entwined their fingers and she jumped like a scared cat. “On second thought, how about some wine. Share a glass with me,” she offered.

  “Red or white?” He kissed the side of her head.

  “That sounds good,” she replied. Her tongue went numb in her mouth. God, it wasn’t nerve-wrecking to do things on the fly. Is that why she had a tendency to make off-the-cuff decisions, ‘cause it was easier to commit without having to think? That revelation needed some serious revisiting. Tomorrow.

  Suddenly Rory pulled her to him, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t recall ever seeing you this on edge. Don’t be uneasy.”

  “What if I suck at—”

  He pressed his fingers to her lips. “Baby, I want you so much, holding you in bed would be incredible. How about that wine? Red or white?”

  “White. Please.”

  “One step at a time,” he suggested. “A glass of wine. Nothing complicated in that.”

  She peered up at him. “Are we spending the night together?”

  “I hadn’t thought about it. Do you want to?” He kissed her firmly on the mouth before he released her and walked to the bar.

  “My aunt is staying with Momma tonight. But I have to be at the parlor early. Well, not too early, considering the time you get up.”

  He brought out a bottle from the wine cooler under the bar, and set it on the counter, peeling away the seal and then focused on her. “I’ll have you back to your house whenever you’d like. Seven or eight?”

  “By eight. At least.”

  Rory popped the cork, poured a glass of wine, and walked over to her. “I’ll take care of you.”

  They walked down the hall, past a guest bathroom. This was as far as she’d visited on this side of Brandon’s house. He opened a door, flipped a switch that lit up a small bedside lamp within a bedroom. Rory waited at the doorway, and she entered the room done in varying shades of blue and beige. Dark wood, uncluttered, and looked the epitome of an unused guest room. He closed the door, and the finality of hearing the snick of the hardware echoed in her mind.

  White-knuckled, she clasped the glass between her hands. Finally, she remembered to take a sip of wine, which turned into a gulp. Before she drained it, she set the glass down on the nightstand. Frozen, she watched Rory remove his hat and rake his fingers through his thick hair. Minus the shadows cast from the brim, he was even more handsome.

  Inhaling a breath, she dropped her bag on the chair next to the bed as Rory removed his boots then his socks. He went for his belt and she stalled, staring at his fingers unbuckling the thick leather, followed by the snap of him pulling his belt free. She should be undressing but she couldn’t. For all her fast and easy talk of how she’d whip off her clothes, she clung to the chair while he unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it free from his jeans and then slipped it off his shoulders. The tanned expanse of his skin—golden and gleaming in the low lights of the bedroom—held her attention. He was built with rippling cut abs, smooth except for a happy trail that led from his navel to his waistband before disappearing lower. Her eyes darted downward to the bulge clearly defined at the front of his jeans.

  “Want me to undress you?” he asked. “We’ve waited a long time for this.”

  “Please.” Her gaze rebounded to his face and she realized he was coming for her.

  Rory crossed the space, eating up the distance between them. Stopping before her, he touched her face. His warm fingers grazed across her jaw, and she lifted her hands to his waist. Naked hard-muscled flesh rippled against her skin. She inhaled his familiar crisp masculine scent and relaxed—or tried to. He knelt and removed her boots and socks, one by one before rising before her.

  “Sommer, you’re so beautiful,” he said as he untied her top. The whispered caress of her name spilling from his lips sent a rush of goose bumps over her body.

  The feel of his hands on her and his voice were better than anything she’d dreamed. “I’m so nervous and you’re so sure,” she whispered.

  “I’ll take care of you. Always, baby.”

  They’d basically reversed roles as he untied her elaborately knotted shirt. Each lace he loosened and undid, cinched her chest tighter and tighter. Her muscles constricted and she reminded herself to relax—just give into the exquisite feel of Rory’s hands on her body.

  My hands on him. They were finally crossing the Rubicon of lust and aching need, together.

  His nostrils flared when the last lace was untied and her shirtfront hung open between them. The air in the room seemed to crackle with mind-bending tension of wanting him skin-on-skin. When his warm hands moved upward, she bowed closer as need and ache shot through her.

  “Beautiful,” he growled, capturing her breasts within his palms. Slowly he flicked his thumbs over her nipples through a thin strapless camisole. Abruptly and almost roughly, Rory pulled it down, freeing her breasts into his waiting hands.

  For a beat he paused as if stunned. She could see his sculpted chest rise and fall rapidly, his hard-muscles banding into rigid cords under her fingers.

  “Do you like them?”

  “Fuck yeah,” he hoarsely swore. “I’ve imagined your tits forever. They’re whatever is beyond beautiful. ”

  The sound of a deep voice straining as his body hardened had her coming undone. He cupped her breasts, squeezing them in his hands as a spasm shot through both of them. He bent forward and kissed her.

  At first, his mouth on hers was a balmy summer breeze, tempting and so delicious. She opened her lips under his, and their kiss morphed into a tsunami. Rory thrust his tongue into her mouth deeper and with more assurance. He sucked her bottom lip between his teeth as he palmed her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers. At the point she felt the pressure build low in her belly, he bit down on her lip and she shivered, crying out.

  “Please,” she begged, pressing her fingertips into the flexing and bunching muscles along his arms. She watched him, sliding her palms down the grooved cords of his forearms and over his hands. Her confusion ceased. Her nervousness dwindled as he kissed it all away.

  “Rory,” Sommer moaned his name, roaming her fingers lower on his waist, dragging her fingertips along the top of his jeans. “That feels so, so good.”

  “It’ll feel better when I suck on your tits,” he breathed out against her mouth. Curling his fingers over her heaving chest, his touch teased her senseless. He sunk down on the edge of the bed, squeezing his fingers taut around one of her breasts.

  More. More. Echoed in her head as she pushed the shirt off her shoulder but her fingers tangled in the slinky material. He took hold of her shirt and removed it as if he’d done it a million times before. Half-naked, she stood before him, and pressed into his large tan hands. His gaze darkened, raking over her as he drew her to him.

  Opening his legs wider, Rory pulled her between his thighs, holding onto her wrists. “Better mind me,
Sommer. Or instead of sucking on your pussy, I’ll turn you over my knee and spank your bottom. Going forward, you ever disappear like what you did tonight, and I promise, I’ll cane your ass cheeks but good.”

  The sound of his gravelly voice issuing a threat of body harm should’ve made her spitting mad. But damn, if anything she wanted a taste of what he offered. If only it didn’t come with an hour-long lecture, she might actually do something to provoke him to get mad.

  He jiggled her wrists. “You hear me?”

  Gritting her teeth, she stared down at him and torqued her chest, sliding her erect nipple along his thumb. “You make being bad a plan in the making, cowboy. Don’t tempt me.”

  “Shit, Sommer.” His blue eyes flashed fire. “I’m not jokin’ or trying to draw a line in the sand. I love you and don’t want you hurt. Just ‘cause I haven’t fucked you senseless doesn’t mean some moron will let you go with a simple ‘no.’”

  Concern and frustration flickered in his eyes. She got he’d been more than mad, he’d been pushed to the brink, worrying about her. “I understand.”

  He hooked a finger inside a belt loop of her skirt to hold her steady while he closed his lips around her nipple, capturing and sucking her tip into his hot mouth. With each deep suck, she felt electricity course through her body.

  “Oh god!” she moaned as her nipple hardened into a point along his tongue and darts shot through her belly. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she bowed against him.

  Rory curled his fingers around her waist, he sucked and licked her nipple, then he switched and sucked her other peak into his mouth—licking and nipping her, playing with the piercings until she cried out.

  “Please more,” she begged him with incomplete words—primal sounds that bubbled up from the coiling hunger rising from her core.

  “Let’s get naked,” He pinned her between his hands.

  She squirmed in his grasp, prompting him to move his hands over her hips, sliding his fingertips down the waistband of her skirt. He met her eyes and their gazes locked. She rubbed her hands to the top of his and squeezed as his fingers popped the button open and lowered her zipper, never taking his eyes off her face.