by Sabrina York
It didn’t work.
“What are you doing in here?’ he asked, and she and Brandon exchanged a glance.
“Um . . . Talking.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” she said innocently. “About Dougal. Poor thing.”
“Really? And what happened to Dougal?”
“He had surgery.”
“I know that. What happened that you need to talk about?”
“Well really,” she said. “Don’t you have something to do?”
“Yeah.” He pinned her with a frown. “I have a starlight hayride, and I am short one contracted dancer.” Then he frowned at Brandon, probably just to keep things fair. “Why aren’t you dressed yet?”
“He’s dressed.” Her tone was probably a little too defensive.
“You should be in jeans for the hayride.”
“Right.” Brandon nodded. “It will take me a sec to change.”
Cade looked pointedly at Porsche, which was probably her invitation to leave, but she pretended to misunderstand. So he made a gruff, bossy-type noise at the back of his throat. “Everyone is waiting,” he said, and then he took her arm and pulled her into the hall.
“I’ll be right here,” she warbled as Cade slammed the door.
He whirled on her immediately and whispered, in something of a hiss, “What the hell is going on here?”
She blinked her eyes, but he wasn’t dazzled, not in the least. So she said, “Nothing.”
“Really?” It wasn’t a Really? Are you telling me the truth? as much as a Really? How stupid do you think I am? “Look, Porsche. It’s none of my business—”
How nice of him to acknowledge that. “That is a very good point—”
“I’ve always thought your brother was a little too overprotective—”
She barked a laugh. “That’s rich coming from you.”
“Me?” Somehow he managed to look wounded.
“Claire told me how you and Cody freaked out when she started darting Charlie.”
His voice lowered to a big-brother growl she knew all too well. “That was completely different.”
“I fail to see how it is any different.” Bossy brothers were bossy brothers the world around.
“Well, it was,” he snapped. “At any rate, I warned Ford if he didn’t let up, something like this would happen.”
Her jaw dropped. She gaped at him. “Something like this?”
“You know. You going off the deep end. For a guy you barely know.”
She pinned him with an acerbic look. “I’m an excellent swimmer.”
Cade’s nose wrinkled as though he’d smelled something bad. “You just met him.”
“I know. And hmm.” She tapped her lip. “Come to think of it, how long did you know Lisa exactly, when the two of you started playing doubles?”
“I hate tennis and you know it.”
“You know what I mean. And don’t prevaricate.”
He frowned and shook his finger at her. Damn, he looked a lot like Ford when he did that. “This isn’t about me,” he insisted.
“Interesting that you should admit as much. It’s about me. My life. My choices.” She leaned in and snarled, “Need I remind you, I am a grown woman.”
“Good God in heaven above. I’ve heard that often enough from Claire.”
“There you go.”
“The two of you are like parrots with OCD.”
“There’s no need to be insulting.”
He raked his fingers through his hair until it stood on end. “It’s not insulting. It’s the truth.”
“You just compared me to a parrot.”
“The point is—”
“You could at least have compared me to something elegant. A swan perhaps?”
“Swans are vicious.”
She forced a toothy smile. “There you go.”
“The point is—”
“Is there a point?”
“Yes.” He glared at her for a moment.
“Well? What is it?”
His lips worked furiously as he tried to remember. She tried not to smile. Some men were so easy to flummox. And he thought he could stand toe to toe with her? A woman who had Ford McCoy for a brother?
Like shootin’ fish in a barrel.
“Well?”
Cade bristled. His brow came down. “Brandon is working. It’s his job to mingle with the guests.”
She smirked. “I’m a guest.”
“Paying guests,” he hissed.
The little hairs at the back of her neck bristled. The urge to defend her man rose within her. “He’s not a gigolo.”
But Cade wasn’t listening. His expression firmed. “I want you to keep away from him this weekend, at least during the parties. What you do on your own time is your business— Christ. I can’t believe I just said that to Ford’s sister.” He raked his hair. “But when he’s working, I need him to focus.”
“You know, this is a really fascinating conversation,” Brandon said. Porsche glanced over to see him leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest, as though he’d been listening for a while. He looked handsome in a checkered shirt and roughed-up jeans. “But don’t we have somewhere to be?”
Cade glared at him and then nodded. “Let’s go.” Then he shooed them both down the hall. Actually shooed them. “And you,” he said to Brandon, “keep away from her tonight.”
“All night?”
Which didn’t amuse Cade. “I swear to God,” he muttered under his breath. “I should have stayed in Iraq.”
• • •
The starlight hayride was annoying as crap. For one thing, Cade herded Brandon into a different trailer so they couldn’t sneak together once the convoy got underway, and for another, there was hay everywhere. Porsche didn’t know why some people thought hay was romantic. It got in her shoes and her hair and it somehow climbed up into her bra and it itched.
The Dallas Housewives seemed to enjoy the ride though, commenting on how beautiful nature was and shit. They extolled the virtues of everything from the mating calls of the bullfrogs to the dance of the clouds to the earthy scent of the cow patties wafting on the breeze.
Porsche held her tongue and satisfied herself with rolling her eyes at every banal comment. She was pretty lucky they didn’t roll out of her head.
Oh, and there was singing. Singing.
Claire started it, which was ironic considering the fact that she had a voice like a screeching peahen. Maybe the others joined in just to drown her out. When the ants started marching five by five, Porsche shot her friend a glower. Just how many ants did they need?
But that was probably a mistake because Claire then decided it was time for a game. Egads.
Apparently she thought her choice of I Spy was brilliant, but honestly how many things were there to spy on a ranch? A fence. Check. A tree. Check. A field. Double check.
When Claire flashed a huge smile and crowed, “I spy Porsche’s boyfriend,” her heart jumped into her throat. Had Claire figured out what she and Brandon had been doing? Had Cade said something? Would they—
Oh.
They were passing the paddock where Cody had taken the bull.
It didn’t seem so very threatening tonight. Behind the fence and all.
“Very funny,” she said. But it wasn’t. The only saving grace was that the ride was almost over. As the trailers pulled into the yard, she jumped over the side like a passenger on the Titanic rather than wait for the others to stumble down the steps. She sashayed over to Brandon’s trailer and waited for him to descend. He was surrounded by women, which was annoying, but when he saw her, he graciously detached himself and came over.
“That was torture,” she said in an undertone.
“Oh? You didn’t like it?” Bran
don chuckled.
“Hay everywhere?” She blew out a breath. “Singing?”
Dimples erupted on his cheek. “I take it you’re not an outdoorsy type.”
“Only if there’s a beach, some sunscreen, and a cabana boy,” she quipped.
“And yet, you live in Texas.”
She shot him a playful frown. “You know, I heard a rumor that they have an outside in all the states.”
“Did you?”
“Except maybe Nevada.”
He held up his hands. “Woah, nelly. They definitely have an outside in Nevada. I’ve seen it. It’s pretty.”
“Really?” She wrinkled her nose. “Because I went to Vegas once and never even saw the sky.”
“I assure you. They have a sky.”
“Not inside the casinos.” Not most of them, anyway.
He wrapped his arm around her. “You’re a goofball.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah. An adorable one, but a goofball all the same.” He tugged her closer and kissed her hair.
She pulled back to frown at him. “That’s not very flattering, you know.”
“It is, actually. I like that about you.”
“You know what I like about you?”
He stared down at her with a small smile on his face. “What?”
“I like that you are a man who keeps his promises.”
“I am.” His eyes glimmered.
“And you promised me that after the show you would be all mine.”
He grimaced. “I completely forgot about the hayride.”
“Did I mention it was torture?”
“I believe you did.”
She gusted a sigh. “Know what I think?”
He shook his head.
“I think you owe me. Big.”
“Do I?” He seemed intrigued. Leaned closer. Opened his mouth to respond.
But before he could, they were rudely interrupted.
“Hey you guys,” Cody said, ambling up. “Some of the ladies were asking about nightcaps so we’re opening the bar and having a late-night soiree.” He smiled at Brandon. “I could really use some minglers.”
“Really?” Brandon smiled back at him, but Porsche could tell it was not what you would call a friendly smile. “Is that in my contract?”
Cody’s hopeful expression fell. “No.”
“Ah. Too bad. I think I’m done for tonight,” he said.
“But . . . the drinks are free.” Was that a whine in Cody’s voice?
Now Brandon’s smile was genuine. “So are the ones in my camper.”
“But . . .”
“Night.” He gave a wave and led Porsche toward his little home sweet home, and she allowed herself to be led.
After all, who wouldn’t?
Chapter Twenty
As soon as Brandon closed the door of the camper, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Damn. I needed that,” he murmured against her lips.
She chuckled. “Me too.”
“I swear to God, I can’t get enough of you. The whole time on that infernal hayride, all I could think about was you.”
“Really?” She snuggled closer.
He grinned and began walking her backward, into the bedroom. “Mmm hmm.”
It was dark back there, shadowed. He sat on the bed and pulled her down on his lap, and they kissed some more. It was slow and easy and she loved it.
Oh she’d enjoyed fast and furious in the dressing room, but this was much nicer. Gentler.
And they had all night. Or most of it.
His heat soaked into her, his hands were warm and comforting as they roved, teasing her ardor and making it rise, but slowly, like a soft simmer. He cupped her breast, thumbed a nipple, and she sighed.
“You like that?” he asked.
“You know I do.”
He did it again, and she had to reciprocate. When she raked his chest over his shirt, and caught his nipple, he made a deep noise in his throat.
“Do you like that?” she asked with a grin.
“Don’t be a brat.”
“Who, me?” She batted her lashes.
His playful mood faded. “Are you going to sneak off as soon as I fall asleep?”
“Probably.”
“Really? I thought we could have a talk.”
“We can have a talk. But not if you’re sleeping.” It seemed prudent to point this out. “I have to be in my bed in the morning or Claire will freak out.”
“I don’t care what Claire thinks.”
“She’s my best friend.”
“She wants you to marry Cody, remember?”
“I’m not going to marry Cody.”
“You should probably tell her that.”
“I should. But not now.” She leaned back in his arms and just enjoyed the moment.
“I liked what you did earlier,” he said in a low, rumbly voice.
She peeped up at him. “Which thing?”
He laughed. “When you sat on my lap in the dressing room. It . . . gave me ideas.”
“Really? You’re okay with a woman on top?”
His eyes brightened. “I am very okay with a woman on top. Totally okay with it. In favor of it, in fact. It should the law.”
“Don’t get carried away.” But she turned around and levered over him and sat on his groin, with her knees on either side of him. It wasn’t super comfortable because something hard pressed against her where things were tender. She wiggled to find a better spot and he hissed out a breath.
“What?” she said in an offended tone. “Am I doing it wrong?”
“Oh, you’re doing it very right.” He threw back his head as she undulated; he groaned. “Tell me you have more of those condoms.”
She grinned and pulled them from her pocket and dropped them in a messy pile on the built-in table between the beds.
“Optimistic, aren’t we?” he said with a chuckle.
“Demanding.”
“You are demanding, aren’t you?”
She shrugged. “I like to get what I want.”
“I want to give you what you want.”
“I’ll just bet you do.”
“You have no idea.”
She wiggled again. “I think I have a pretty good idea.”
“How quick can you get those jeans off?” he asked.
“Time me.” She leaped off the bunk and began working the button.
And . . . someone knocked on the door.
They both issued tandem groans. “This is getting ridiculous,” he said.
“Don’t answer it.”
He sighed. “They know we’re in here.”
“Turn out the lights. Let’s pretend it’s Halloween.”
“Um, I can hear you,” Cade said through the door.
“Go away.” Again, a chorus.
Cade grunted. “I can’t. I need to talk to you about tomorrow’s schedule.”
Brandon groaned and shot Porsche an apologetic glance and rolled her off him. She flopped back onto the pillows with a huff as he made his way to the door and opened it a crack. “What?”
“Can’t you open the door wider?”
“No.”
Another sigh. “I just found out that Marky has no experience riding and he’s scheduled to cover one of the trail rides tomorrow morning. I was wondering if you would cover it.”
“Is that in my contract?”
“Please, Brandon. I don’t want some city slicker who doesn’t know a hoof from a hole in the wall to go out on my horses.”
“I was planning to sleep in.”
“I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
“Oh all right. What time do you need me?”
“Seven.”
“Seve
n?” A squawk. It was nearly midnight now. Porsche made a face. There would be no long, lingering loving. Not tonight.
“The breakfast bar opens at six and Lisa will have some nice goodies for you.”
“All right. I’ll do it, but not for you. I’m doing it for the horses.”
“Thanks, buddy.”
“Yeah.”
The door shut and Brandon turned and leaned against the wall. “Seven,” he said.
Porsche sat up and grinned. “We better get to work then. We don’t have a lot of time.”
His grin was glorious. He pounced.
She laughed as he peeled off her jeans—and then struggled when they caught on her shoes—but her amusement faded when he dropped to his knees before her as she sat on the bunk. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to do,” he said, thumbing the soft cotton of her panties.
She shuddered. “Um. What?”
“Do you mind?” He slid his fingers beneath the elastic and eased them off, baring her. She shivered at the expression on his face. “All the way off.”
She lifted her legs to assist him in his endeavor, and then she stilled as he gently spread her knees.
His gaze locked on her most private parts. She shivered at his intensity. “Ah, Porsche. So beautiful.”
He was the beautiful one. What woman could not be affected by the sight of him, that strong, handsome, sexy man, on his knees, between her legs?
“I need to taste you.”
“Okay.” It was a strangled assent, because her throat had closed. Her pulse thrummed in her veins, especially down there, where her sensitive nub, now exposed to the air, tingled.
He leaned forward, and she closed her eyes as he opened her with his thumbs and—
Jesus God. She nearly passed out from the pleasure as he licked her. But, oh, that was nothing. That was only the beginning. He opened his mouth and sucked her in, tasting, teasing, tormenting.
She wanted to watch, but she couldn’t keep her eyes open. She flopped back on the bed and just . . . enjoyed.
And damn, he was good. He touched her exactly where she needed it, was just rough enough to light her fire, but not too overbearing. When he eased his fingers inside and fucked her in a slow, powerful rhythm, she began to squirm.