Racing Hearts: Bennett Boys Ranch

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Racing Hearts: Bennett Boys Ranch Page 17

by Landish, Lauren


  Still, all the fancy trappings don’t mean this place is us.

  “I knew this place was supposed to be swanky, but I’m not sure I was expecting this. I feel like a bull in a china shop,” I tell Shay softly, a private confession between the two of us.

  Her wide eyes look around at the tables gleaming with crystal, the black tuxedo-wearing waitstaff, and even up to the high ceiling that’s been painted in some sort of Renaissance scene. Finally, her eyes return to me, a spark there that warns me to steel myself for what she’s about to say because it’s gonna be a zinger.

  “One, you said schwanky, and that’s funny as hell coming outta your mouth. Two, you look stiff, so shake it off, man.” She wiggles a bit in her cushy upholstered seat and my eyes catch on the fullness of her breasts as they jiggle too. Her smirk is pure ‘gotcha’, but I wasn’t trying to hide my appreciation of her assets. I take her suggestion and move a bit, letting my tense muscles relax. “Good, and three, then why the hell did you bring me here?”

  I shrug, slightly embarrassed. “Okay, don’t laugh, but I spilled my guts to Sophie so she’d help arrange all this,” I say, gesturing from her to me. “And when I told her I wanted to take you out on the town and blow your socks off, she said we had to come here. Something about Michelin stars and food to die for, and it sounded like a good idea. Hell, she had to help me get the reservation by dropping her brother’s name, I think.”

  I’ve only met Sophie’s brother a handful of times, but he’s definitely in another realm. For all the dirt and grit Sophie can handle, her brother is suits and business dinners. And richer than God himself.

  Though I told her not to, Shay laughs lightly. “That sneaky bitch!” Her voice is quiet, but judging by the sharp look the severe-looking lady at the table next to us shoots our way, not quiet enough. Shay doesn’t even notice, which I find endearing somehow. “Sophie was asking all kinds of questions today, poking and prodding like I was a cow needing a checkup. And she knew all along, that co-conspirator.” Her eyes drift off a bit, like she’s remembering their conversation from today. “Yeah, she’s sneaky.”

  She doesn’t sound it, but I check anyway. “You mad that we went behind your back? Even if was good intentioned to surprise you?”

  She refocuses on me, shaking her head. “Nah, this is honestly the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. You guys went through all this trouble to surprise me, and you did it in a way that we could go out in public without fists being thrown over it. I feel like you thought of everything.”

  She reaches across the table, and I meet her, clasping her fingers in a strong but gentle grip. I slide my thumb along the soft skin between her thumb and finger.

  Heat builds just from that slight touch, like we’re both imagining me doing it other places on her body, all over her body. We’ve waited, we’ve let the anticipation build . . . and it just makes this moment all the more important. It makes every breath we share more important.

  “Can I let you in on a secret?” she whispers.

  “Anything,” I say truthfully.

  The slightest flush pinkens her cheeks, and I wait on pins and needles for her to divulge her deepest, darkest desires. “You don’t have to wine and dine me, Luke Bennett. You blow my socks off every day, just sitting on the hard ground under a tree, eating roast beef sandwiches.”

  Her eyes don’t waver from me, her attention and her truth floating in the buzzing air between us. And that truth is that with this relationship, before we’ve ever really ‘done the full deed,’ we’ve jumped so much deeper into an emotional bond than I ever expected.

  I am so gone for this woman. Not because she can clean up well and do this fancy shit, or because she’s as down to earth as they come, but somehow, it’s both. She’s . . . complete.

  The strength of her spirit and the softness of her soul, the sweetness of her heart and the salty words that come out of her mouth, the innocence she possesses and the dirty things she inspires in me. It’s all of it. It’s her. It’s my Shayanne.

  I’m on the verge of spilling all of that in a verbal torrent, but the waiter chooses that moment to appear at the edge of our table. I hadn’t even noticed his approach, too lost in her eyes and my own heart’s whisperings.

  “Mr. Stone requested the chef’s special for your dining pleasure tonight. I trust that’s acceptable?”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to say fuck it and get the hell out of here, scoop Shay up in my arms and run for the truck and drive pell-mell for the hotel. I can tell Shay is thinking the same thing.

  But I can also see the chandeliers reflecting in her eyes. Tonight’s going to be a big night for us both, and I want her to have the absolute best of everything. So I nod for the waiter, never looking away from Shayanne. “Yes, thank you.”

  He disappears, and the heat between us scorches the air as the promise of an entire dinner evening at this table looms. I’m just thankful for the long, white tablecloth hanging above my lap. I doubt the snooty lady at the next table over would approve of the throbbing tent in my jeans or the fact that I’m nearly lifting up the table with my crotch.

  I lean forward and Shay follows suit, closing the distance across the narrow table. I cup her face, stretching to whisper in her other ear. My voice is smoke and gravel, all the things I’m not saying in the rough rumble as I tell her, “You amaze me every day too. I’m completely in awe of you.”

  I feel her breath hitch and know she understands what I’m not saying . . . yet. But I need more, so much more. “I’ll tell you everything later, when I’m balls deep in your pussy for the first time, claiming you, making you come all over me, owning your pleasure like you own my heart.”

  She shudders, the slightest quiver rushing through her body as she leans into me. I trace my thumb along her cheekbone and then lay the softest, slightest feather of a kiss along her lips. “Soon.”

  Dinner is delicious, I’m sure of it. I’m sure the chef put all of his or her years of skill into the preparation of something exquisite. But it could be taco truck burritos, for all I care. I don’t taste a single thing. I’m too lost in Shayanne’s eyes, in the promise of the night.

  After we eat, I’m trembling with want, so close to cutting off the rest of the plan and rushing back to the hotel, but I hold myself steady. For her. She deserves this, a night on the town, something she rarely gets at all and never like this, in the big city.

  Compared to the fancy pants restaurant, our next stop is much more our speed. It’s a ‘country bar’, more of a citified version of Hank’s, where this all started, which seems fitting. Like we truly have come full-circle in a way.

  The fanciness slides off us like an uncomfortable skin, and I undo a few buttons and roll up my sleeves, having already shucked my jacket and tie back in my truck. I don’t quite feel back home, but the jeans, boots, and shirt at least look normal here.

  “Two beers, please.” The bartender doesn’t bat an eye or ask for Shay’s ID, which only reminds me that she’s young and I need to control myself.

  Slow and steady, Luke. Like James used to tease you, use the Force.

  She lifts the bottle to her mouth, puckering to take a long drag, and all I can imagine is her mouth opening to take my cock. The images superimpose themselves in my mind, and she damn well knows it.

  Setting the bottle down, she dabs at the corner of her mouth with a pink-tipped finger. “Whatcha thinkin’ ’bout, cowboy?”

  I don’t give her the answer she’s looking for because it’ll lead us right out the door. Instead, I guzzle half my beer in one go, then take her hand. “Thinking about spinning you around the dance floor until you’re so dizzy that all you can focus on is me. That even though the very ground beneath your feet feels uncertain, you know I’ve got you steady in my arms and won’t let you down.”

  A flash of something shoots through her eyes, gone before I can recognize it. The smile she flashes my way is easy to read, though. “Show me what you’ve got, then,” she dares.
“We’ll see who makes who dizzy.”

  The first few songs are fast, and I do my best to show her off, keeping in mind that though our shoes are slick, she’s not used to dancing in heels. It’s a big floor with a lot of talented dancers, so though we’re doing some fancy tricks, no one pays us much mind. Seems the city folks have some moves too.

  Over and over, I spin her away and then pull her back, catching her against my body in a teasing torment. I dip her, swooping her off her feet into the air where she points her toes and bends one knee, her head falling back to expose the long line of her neck. When I set her upright, I can’t help but press a kiss there, inhaling her and counting the rapid beat of her pulse.

  I don’t have words right now, but she hears my soft growl. “I know, me too,” she says softly, but with her mouth by my ear, I hear her loud and clear.

  She follows my every lead like we choreographed this, but truthfully, we’re just making it up as we go. We can just read each other that well. I can see her focusing when I do complicated hand grabs, can feel the slight delay as she trails her fingers around my waist when I send her behind my back, and I can see both the laughter and heat building in her quickening breaths.

  Like I’d slipped the DJ a twenty, he switches songs to something slow and grinding. Chase Rice’s Ride coats the dance floor in a sultry groove, and I keep Shayanne pressed against me, slowly spinning us both in place. I bring her hands to my neck and rest mine on her hips, joining us in an embrace that’s anything but gentlemanly. This isn’t about dancing and moving around the floor anymore.

  This is foreplay.

  Heated, roiling need burns through us as we edge ourselves closer and closer to the point of no return.

  Shay’s voice has an edge to it as she speaks against my chest, “Luke, we need to go. I need . . . I’m . . . I can’t wait anymore.”

  I flip her around, pulling her back to my front, and with her heels on, her ass cradles my hard cock. It takes every bit of restraint I have to not grind against her, to take her right here on the dance floor, but I still hold her tightly, so close only the thin layers of fabric separate us.

  I slip my hand up to her jaw, tilting her head so I can murmur into her ear. “You feel what you’re doing to me, honey? You’re damn near driving me insane. I want inside you so badly.”

  “Let’s go.” It’s more order than request, and I love that she’s not shy in the least about what she wants.

  But I remind her that she’s not the boss, not tonight. This is important, and I won’t let her rush it, won’t let me rush it either. I’m going to go slowly and torture us both until she needs me more than she even realizes she can.

  I press against her, splaying my free hand on her belly. “You want me to take you like this? Drop you to your knees on the bed, push you forward until you catch yourself on your hands, and then fuck you from behind, rough and dirty?”

  I feel the goosebumps flash on her skin, though she’s molten in my arms.

  My chuckle is deep and dark. “I will, but not the first time, honey. I want you underneath me, want to slide inside you slow and easy so I get to know every inch of your sweet pussy for the first time. I want to watch your eyes as you take me deep, feel you stretch around my cock, knowing that you’ll never be the same, that in this, you’ll always be mine and I’ll always be your first.”

  I hold back from saying ‘and your last’, but just barely. Yeah, I want her forever right now . . . but that’s her choice. I need to earn that gift, not demand it.

  She sighs, her head falling back against my shoulder for a moment, and I wonder if she’s going to detonate right here on the dance floor from just my words. I feel like I fucking could with just the smallest grind of her against my cock.

  Without preamble, she steps away from me, grabbing my hand and dragging me with her toward the door. “You can do what you’re promising or watch me get myself off. Either way, we’re going to the hotel right fucking now.”

  She’s talking over her shoulder as she stomps toward the door, me in tow. I glare menacingly at the guy who happens to catch her say ‘get myself off’ as we walk by, and he flashes me a bro-grin. Normally, I’d tell him to fuck off and mind his own business, but Shay’s not giving me a chance as she drags me along.

  She’s ready. And I’m so fucking ready.

  So I do the one thing my manners require. “Yes, ma’am!” And then I’m the one shoving her toward the door and into my truck.

  Chapter 16

  Shayanne

  We stumble into the hotel, trying not to run, but I’m about as close as I can get without breaking one of my brand-new heels. The elevator is a moment of privacy that at least allows us to kiss. Hot, wet liquid desire rushes through me. He tastes vaguely like beer and mint, but beneath, it’s him. Pure Luke, strong and potent, addicting me to him more with every touch of our tongues. The rising elevator makes my belly swoop almost as much as he does.

  Fumbling down the hall, our hands run over each other, scrambling to get to what we both want. I feel the need to touch him everywhere at once, and he seems similarly minded, judging by the grasping handfuls of my flesh he’s groping. He pushes me backward, almost like it’s a long line of dance steps, until he backs me against the wall next to the room. The door opens with a click and a green light, and then we’re inside.

  Alone. In a hotel. Me, Shayanne Tannen, with Luke Bennett. About to get our freak on.

  Oh, God, don’t say it like that, Shay.

  I chastise myself but then lose all coherent thought as Luke forgoes undoing the rest of his buttons and simply pulls his shirt over his head. My brain just goes into spasms . . . hubba, hubba, hubba.

  Pull it together.

  This is not a damn rom-com movie where I’m gonna be the silly girl. I’m a woman, and I know what to do with a man like Luke Bennett. Well, I know what I want to do, which is touch him, taste him, and take him. Everything he’s promised and more, everything I’ve read about and seen in movies, everything Sophie has shared. Just everything, all at once.

  That’s totally possible, right?

  But I’m not the cool chick. I’m just Shayanne, who has her mind overloading with possibilities. Instead of being the smooth seductress I thought I could be, my mouth is gaping like I’m seeing him for the first time. I can’t help it, he’s just so beautiful. It’s not the right word to describe a rough cowboy like him, but it’s what he is to me. He’s muscles carved by hard work, skin tanned and lined from the sun, a smattering of blond hair that thickens low on his belly. And that cocky smirk that silently asks me if I like what I’m seeing.

  “Honey?” he rumbles, hands pressed to his sides like he’s holding himself back from me. Like he’s waiting for me to say the word before he unleashes himself on me.

  I don’t give permission. I take control instead, flinging myself at him. He catches me, like I knew he would, meeting my lips in a flurry of kisses. I can feel the need burning bright and hot, almost blue fire inside me.

  But he tempers it, wrestling me back to my feet and holding my head still in his large hands. Between kisses, he says, “Easy, Shay. I don’t want to rush this. We have all night, and I want to make this good for you.”

  “It will be,” I promise him. “Because it’s you.”

  He groans, like my words bring him pain. Confused for a moment, I search his eyes and realize that it’s not pain at all. It’s pleasure. A fine line between the two comes into sharp focus, and I feel myself take another step on my path to womanhood. I know what his words do to me, and I want to have the same effect on him.

  Bravely, I swallow and tell him, “I’ve wanted this for weeks with you, Luke. I’ve gone home after our nights at the tree and gotten myself off, even when I just came on your fingers or your tongue. I needed more then, and I’m so ready for you to finally give me more tonight. Now. Please.”

  I can hear the plea in my voice, the hopeful sound echoing through the room that’s silent save for our panting breaths.<
br />
  His growl is feral, a primal uttering of desire. “Turn around.”

  I think for a moment that I pushed him into taking me roughly from behind, and my inner wanton slut does a clapping happy dance.

  Hell to the yes for that!

  Slowly, so slowly he’s still torturing me with how he’s drawing this out, he lowers the zipper on my dress, and I realize he just needed access. But as he kisses his way down the bumps of my spine, I’m not disappointed in the least. How could I be when his scruff is roughing along my back, contrasting with the softness of his lips?

  My dress puddles at my feet, and I step out of it as he directs me to turn back to him. His eyes are dark and stormy as they sweep over me, taking in the black lace bra and panty set Sophie had insisted I get to wear beneath the dress. Sneaky girl knew exactly what it was going to be for, and judging by the look on Luke’s face, I owe my bestie a huge thank you.

  “Fuck, you’re gorgeous, Shayanne. So damn pretty.” His thick finger traces the strap from my shoulder down to my cleavage. Before he even gets there, my nipples are already hard, standing up to beg for his attention. He gives it, reverently running his thumbs over the sheer material cupping my breasts. I reach behind my back, undoing the bra myself, and it floats down to the floor, already forgotten when his eyes lick along my bared chest.

  He spreads his hands over my ribcage, lifting and guiding me to arch as he urges my breasts toward him. He lowers himself to me, taking my offering like a sexual god, sucking and licking and nibbling my tender pink flesh. My hands twist into his hair, holding him to me, holding on to Earth because I feel like my feet are leaving the ground.

  Actually, I’m standing on tiptoe, trying to get as close to him as I can. But he’s got me, like he always does, holding me in place and not letting me fall.

  With a wet smack, he lets go of my breast and I sink back to the floor, sliding down his body. “Let’s take these off,” he says, pulling at the scrap of material ghosting over my hipbones. He slides the black lace down my legs, dropping to his knees in front of me.

 

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