Truck Stop Tango

by Daniels, Krissy

She didn’t respond. Not verbally. Instead, she gnawed the corner of her thumbnail, unwittingly giving away her state of emotions, her level of worry.

  My hands tightened around the wheel. My chest caved in. I wanted her to be happy I was back. And fuck me, it hurt like hell knowing she wasn’t.

  I would do everything in my power to change her mind.

  I would do everything in my power to protect my lie.

  With the Satan’s Slayers hanging around Whisper Springs, and Tango moving back home, my only option was to leave. I wouldn’t have the strength to avoid Tango, and he would eventually discover the truth. He still owned my heart, and my life was built on a shaky foundation of secrets, lies, and wishful thinking. If he tugged the right string, the world I’d built would come crashing down, burying not only me, but the others who’d risked everything for my son.

  I had a back-up plan. One I’d hoped, prayed even, that I would never have to implement. I didn’t want to leave everything behind. I loved my town, but I could make a new home, with Rocky. We’d have a better life, some place far away. I could buy us a brand new house. One that didn’t have a crumbling foundation, peeling paint, squeaky floorboards, or a lifetime of bittersweet and treasured memories.

  The thought should have saddened me, but instead, worry left my body on a deep inhale and exhale, leaving my head and heart lighter than they’d felt in forever. I no longer feared spending an entire day with Tango. I would enjoy our day. Enjoy him one last time. Rocky was safe with Tucker for the time being. When I got home, I would pack my essentials, rent a car, and head to Montana. Then? Tit for tat. My turn to disappear.

  I turned to face the man who had built me up, broken me, and shown me how far I could fall in the name of love. The man I had committed crimes for. Five years ago, I sold my soul to the devil for Tango Rossi. I would do it again. For that reason alone, I had to leave.

  For one more day, I would take what I wanted from him. Let him fill me, fuel me, make new memories to carry me through the next chapter of my life.

  “Isn’t Moss Lake up this way?”

  “Yeah.” His eyebrows crinkled as he slid his gaze my way then back to the road.

  “Let’s go there. That’s where I want to go.”

  His lips curled, engaging those deep dimples. “The family cabin is up there.”

  “I know.” I wiggled my brows at him, biting my lower lip.

  He lifted his right hand off the steering wheel to scratch the stubble on his chin. “I was strictly forbidden to ever take you up there.”

  “I know,” I whispered.

  “You remember?” He dropped his hand and shifted gears, his foot weighing heavy on the gas pedal.

  “How could I forget?” When Tango had received his driver’s license, and his first car, a gift for his sixteenth birthday, his mother had given him the now-infamous no girls allowed in the cabin speech. She’d made a point to do it in front of his friends, to slut shame me, most likely, which was laughable. I was one of a handful of girls at school who hadn’t already lost their virginity. After Marta Rossi’s speech, I was the only girl who hadn’t been introduced to the Rossi cabin.

  Just to stick-it to his mom, Tango had made sure every guy on the football team had taken a turn or two sneaking their dates to the remote location. He’d made quite a killing, renting the shag shack to his horny teammates over the years.

  We stopped at the only gas station within a forty-mile radius of our destination. I made a quick trip to the restroom around back while Tango ran inside to pay. He returned balancing three large bags in his arms.

  “What’s all this?” I asked, snagging one of the brown paper sacks. It overflowed with crackers, cookies, and chips.

  “We gotta eat, right?”

  “That’s a ton of food for one day.”

  Tango just smiled and plopped the groceries on the back seat. I climbed back into the SUV. The leather seat burned the back of my thighs—a welcomed distraction from the man climbing into the car next to me. His light blue T-shirt clung to his chest and arms and pulled tight in all the right places.

  My gaze drifted down to the large, strong fist wrapped around the gear shift. I anchored my fingers under my legs to keep from tracing the veins mapping the top of his hand. My throat tightened then shriveled. A bead of sweat rolled between my breasts.

  Sweet Jesus, I wanted him to touch me.

  Cool air blasted through the vent when he started the car, and I leaned forward, pulling my shirt low to dry the collection of moisture in my cleavage.

  We reached the cabin almost an hour later. I jumped out of the car and stretched my legs before taking in the grandeur of the Rossi family cottage. For crying out loud, it was bigger than three of my houses put together. It sat next to, well, practically on top of the lake. The wraparound deck stretched over the water and connected to a small dock.

  “This is what you call a cabin?”

  Tango shrugged. “Dad doesn’t do anything small.” He handed me a bag, snagged the other two, and headed for the front door.

  I followed behind, wishing I’d brought another pair of shoes. When I looked back at the driveway, I noticed several fresh tire tracks. “Who else comes up here? You guys rent the place out?”

  Tango gave the driveway a once over. “Those look like motorcycle tracks. Maybe someone turned up our road by mistake.” He continued inside, unconcerned.

  I ignored the ice picks jabbing my spine and trailed after him.

  I’d expected the inside of the cabin to be dusty and dark. Silly me. Everything sparkled—the dark wood furniture, stainless steel kitchen, heavy ceiling beams. The scent of lemon and ammonia tickled my nose.

  “You have a maid staff here too?”

  “Dad pays a local couple to keep it clean. Sweet people. Maybe you’ll get to meet them.” He dropped his load on the dark granite counter, then relieved me of my sack and set it with the others.

  I shoved my hands in the back pockets of my cut-offs to hide their tremble. Then I reminded myself to breathe. “How much did you pay them to keep quiet about your parties?”

  Tango stepped closer. “They liked me better than they liked my parents. Bribery wasn’t necessary.”

  That didn’t surprise me in the least. Tango could charm a trout away from a hungry grizzly.

  “So.” I surveyed the massive open layout of the kitchen, trying my best to avoid eye contact. “What shall we do with ourselves?”

  Tango took another step toward me. My insides churned and warmed. I faked interest in the fireplace. The rustic stone structure took up half the living room and housed several large antlers. Clearly, the Rossi cabin was nothing but an oversized man-cave. I couldn’t find one touch of female inspiration in any of the decor.

  “Slade.”

  Oh God. His voice.

  “Look at me.”

  I had to keep my cool. I needed to get through this day, pretend everything was okay, so I could get home and start packing. I forced my gaze up the length of his lean torso, carved chest and shoulders, irresistible lips. My nerves settled the moment our eyes met. He’d always had that effect on me. When he smiled, it fed my soul and I found strength. I can do this. I could enjoy one day with him and be okay.

  I pulled my shirt over my head.

  Tango’s nostrils flared. Lips parted.

  Forcing my fingers to move through the tremors, I popped the button on my shorts and slid them down my legs. Despite the heat, goosebumps covered my skin.

  I can do this.

  I can’t do this.

  I’d promised our trip would be a hands-off excursion. My goal had been to get her away from her day-to-day responsibilities, help her de-stress enough to open up. Talk to me. Unburden, and allow me to help.

  No way in hell would that happen. Not when she was standing inches from me in nothing but a cotton bra and panties.

  I was a man, after all, and holy shit, Slade was a woman. No fucking way would I deny her what she wanted.

  Judg
ing by her naked state, she wanted my hands all over her. I stepped back to admire the goddess who’d claimed the starring role in every fantasy I’d conjured since puberty.

  “You know what I want to do?” she asked, kicking her shorts across the floor.

  Hot blood filled my cock. Lust stole my voice. I’d waited my whole life for that moment. Slade Mason, mine, in every sense of the word.

  Her lips curved in a half-wicked smile. A gesture I knew all too well. She was up to no good. I was more than ready to be her bad.

  I yanked my shirt over my head. Holy fuck, the way she looked at me. I felt like a king.

  “What do you want to do?” I asked, manipulating the top button of my shorts.

  “Skinny dip!” she squealed, turning on the balls of her feet and sprinting toward the back door. She opened the slider and shot me a wink over her shoulder before running across the deck and hopping down the stairs. I watched, hands still working my button, as she dashed to the end of the dock and cannonballed into the water.

  Well, shit.

  I took my time joining her, on account of my dick and its refusal to deflate. By the time I dove in, Slade had made it to the floating dock in the center of the private lake. She hoisted herself up and turned to look for me. Then she threw her arms out wide and lifted her face to the sun. Hell yeah, definitely a goddess.

  When I reached her, she was lying on her stomach, absorbing the late morning heat. I settled next to her, on my back, and crossed my arms behind my head.

  “It’s beautiful here,” she said, staring across the water.

  “Yeah. It is.” Never gave the serenity of our summer home much thought before that moment. I supposed I had taken it for granted, much like everything else in life.

  “Tango?” she whispered.

  “Hmm?” I hummed, throwing an arm over my eyes to shield them from the sun.

  “Do you suppose things would’ve turned out different if your parents hadn’t hated me so much?”

  That rage I’d learned to suppress bubbled and churned in my gut. “I don’t know if things would’ve been different. What happened that night had nothing to do with my parents and everything to do with me being an asshole.”

  Slade sighed. “Asshole is right. King of the assholes. Ruler of Assholeville.”

  God, I loved my girl. I turned to face her. Her eyes were fixed on the water. I wanted her attention on me. Nowhere else. I broke my promise about no touching and reached over, brushing her cheek with the tip of my finger.

  Slade tilted her head, resting it on her arm, and slowly brought her gaze to me. “Oh my God, Tango!” She rolled to her back and hid her face behind the shield of her hands. “You’re naked.” Laughter erupted, and her breasts bounced erratically beneath her wet bra.

  “You said you wanted to skinny dip.”

  “I know, but...” She peeked between her fingers, then turned her head. “Oh my God. Cover yourself.” Tears rolled down the sides of her face.

  Fuck, I’d missed that laugh. “Cover myself with what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What’s the matter? You’ve seen it before.”

  “We were kids, in the kiddie pool, and if I remember right, your mom left a welt on your ass for exposing yourself in public.”

  “Slade. Come on now. We’re adults,” I teased, rolling to my side and snapping her bra strap. “I don’t know why you bothered keeping this on. I can see right through it.”

  Begging to be sucked, her pink nipples puckered into tight little buds under the thin white cotton.

  Slade huffed, drew her knees up and crossed her arms over her chest. “There. I covered mine. You cover yours.”

  “No.” I gestured down to my semi-erect woody. “He hasn’t seen the sun for years. Think I’ll let him get some air.”

  “He?” Laughter erupted again.

  I couldn’t help it. I leaned over and kissed a tear from her cheek.

  Her body relaxed, and she closed her eyes. When she dropped her arms to her sides, I studied the curves of her hips, the rise and fall of her breasts, the stretch of skin over her taut abdomen.

  “You don’t have any stretch marks.”

  “What?” Wide-eyed, she lifted her head to meet my gaze.

  “No stretch marks.” I broke the no touching rule again and traced a figure-eight pattern over her stomach. “None here.” I dragged my finger upward and between her breasts. “None here.”

  Slade sucked in a sharp breath before smacking my hand away and rolling onto her stomach. “No. I didn’t get stretch marks. Just lucky I guess.”

  Her butt wiggled as she settled into a comfortable position. Fuck, I wanted to gnaw on those ass cheeks. Curl my fingers into her soft hips and pound her from behind.

  “What was it like?” I asked, steering my thoughts in a direction that didn’t include coitus.

  “What was what like?”

  “Being pregnant. Growing a baby.”

  Slade turned her head away from me. “It was fine, I guess.”

  “Fine, I guess?” I hated that she wouldn’t look at me.

  “I don’t know. I was moody and mean. Hungry all the time.”

  God, what I wouldn’t give to see her with my baby growing in her belly. I couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful. “I can’t believe you did that alone.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Women do it all the time.”

  Not my woman. Never should’ve been my woman. “Who is Rocky’s father, Slade?”

  She huffed and buried her face between her arms. “Nobody you know. Can we change the subject?”

  “Why are you afraid to talk about him?” I asked, running a finger along the curve of her waist.

  “I’m not,” she mumbled.

  I sensed her agitation, but continued to push. “Was it Dane? Did he hurt you?”

  With a sigh, Slade turned to look at me. Finally. “No.”

  “Did you love him?” I had to know.

  “God, Tango. Stop. I don’t want to talk about this.” Slade pushed to her feet. Again, those glorious tits bounced, scrambling my thought pattern.

  “Did you love him?” I repeated, curiosity, and envy, getting the better of me. Her heart had belonged to me once. If she’d shared it with another man, it would kill me, but I supposed I deserved nothing less.

  “Yes,” she yelled, throwing her hands to the sky. “Is that what you want to hear? I loved him.”

  I hated the fucker. Whoever he was, I wanted him dead. “More than you loved me?”

  “You’re an asshole.” With that, she turned and dove into the lake, ending the convo, leaving me alone to cool my shit, and once again, wait for my cock to deflate.

  Dear Lord, the man had a beautiful cock. I needed to get away, clear my head. Skinny dipping? What the hell had I been thinking? Stupid, stupid, stupid girl.

  I barely pulled myself out of the water before Tango’s naked body covered mine. Out of breath from the swim, I lacked the energy to protest. In all honesty, I didn’t want to.

  On hands and knees, he straddled me and lowered his nose to mine. Wet hair fell over his forehead, dripping water on my face. “Sorry,” he laughed, showing off his brilliant white teeth. Running a hand through his hair, he slicked it back and squeezed out the excess moisture.

  Helpless to resist his sun-kissed skin, I reached up to trace his deep dimple. Dammit. Irresistible bastard.

  He gripped my wrist, turned his face into my palm, and landed a kiss on my finger. “I’m sorry I pushed. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just need to know you again. I want to know everything I missed.”

  I wanted to know him, too. But what was the point when I could never see him again, when we had no future?

  I sucked in a deep breath, building courage to tell yet another lie. “I only have room in my heart for one man, Tango. That’s my son. The past doesn’t matter anymore. You had my heart once. It belongs to him now.”

  Remorse darkened his eyes, and his fingers tightened ar
ound me. “It sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”

  Just one more day. “We broke the no touching rule,” I whispered, desperate to change the subject.

  “When have we ever followed rules?” he asked, twisting a finger through my hair.

  “Good point.”

  A lazy grin spread across his face. “I’m about to break another one.”

  Oh God. My heart. “You are?”

  He nodded, fixing his gaze on my lips. He was going to kiss me.

  Please kiss me.

  I was bad. Very bad. Because I wanted his lips too much.

  Then again, kissing was better than talking. I wouldn’t have to make up lies if my tongue was busy doing other things.

  I snapped a hand around his neck and pulled him down, smashing our mouths together. Oh yes, I can do this. All day long. Goodbye could wait until tomorrow.

  Anger welled inside me. I didn’t want his affections for only a day; I wanted his lips, his mouth, his attention every day. Until we were old and wrinkly and stinking of mint and Depends. But because of one desperate decision made on one bad fucking day, I would never get my happily-ever-after. Not with Tango Rossi, anyway.

  Anger turned to rage. Rage to need. Need to desperation. I tangled my fingers through his wet hair. He forced a knee between my thighs, nudging my legs apart. When they opened, he nestled nice and tight between them, pressing his hips to mine, positioning his thick erection in the soft spot between my legs.

  He kissed me, wet and fierce, with tongue, teeth and lips—and when Tango kissed, he not only gave with his mouth, his entire body got involved, rolling, gripping, and trembling. With every suck, every nibble and moan, he moved, dancing against me. And his hips, dear sweet Jesus, his hips undulated between my legs, working the heavy weight of his arousal against me. I rocked with the little movement his solid body would allow, my thin panties the only barrier between us.

  How I wished there didn’t have to be a barrier.

  Tango slid a hand down my ribcage, my waist, my hip. My body melted into the rough wood of the dock, my worries dripped between the cracks, dissolving and disappearing in the cool, cleansing water. My skin was on fire, my muscles aching and needy.