Reality was a tough son of a bitch. Reality said he was a long way from even rolling in bed with her. Susan Fielding thought he was nothing more than some flirt. A flirt. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles popped. He sank further in his seat and leaned an elbow out of his open truck window while he tried to relax his cramped muscles.
Yep, Susan Fielding was one tough little thing. She’d told Irene over lunch that he was a big flirt and got around way too much with the women. What the hell? didn’t even cover it.
He didn’t even know how to flirt, did he? Well, by Susan’s response, he’d say no. She even had him questioning himself. He didn’t flirt with women. He didn’t even buy them drinks. Women always came to him. They bought him drinks. Well, they had when he’d still been down at the base. And that usually got them what they both wanted. Sex. He had been good to them. He’d always been careful to see to a woman’s pleasure as well as his own—even if it was a one-night stand, he’d tried to make it good for them. Sometimes he’d hooked up twice, but never more.
He’d never wanted more. Now? He wanted more. It felt like he needed more. More than simply sex. He wanted to see Susan smile, listen to her life story, find out what made her seem so happy. But, yeah, he was a man. He wanted to see her cry out when he made her climax eight or nine times.
Russ snorted, remembering the things he’d fantasised about doing to her. He had it bad. This wasn’t going to be some all-night sex, maybe followed by a morning dip before he left. Not with her. He needed about thirty-six hours of straight sex. Hard, hot, heavy and wet. And then? Then he was certain he’d need more. And he needed it right now. His hard-on hurt. A man couldn’t think clearly in this condition, and hell if he didn’t feel like a major dick for jacking off remembering how soft her lips had been in that too brief kiss at the hardware store. Like he was disrespecting a friend’s daughter or some shit like that. He didn’t examine that bit too closely—he couldn’t. If he did, he might decide he needed to date her and not have sex for months—while he did what? Whatever dim-witted men did to win a girl like Susan, he supposed.
He had it bad. Could he manage another day of this? He’d fought an erection all night. Even jacking off hadn’t tamed the boy down.
He hadn’t been this edgy since a terrorist cell had been an inch away from cleaning his clock in Afghanistan. He’d lost four good men in that fire-fight. Four good, solid men. He’d been so pumped on adrenaline, and, finally seeing a woman who had all four limbs, a face and a willing body, he hadn’t taken a breather from straight sex for days. He wasn’t even sure of the woman’s name now. Some older woman he’d let pick him up at a dive outside the base. That was the closest he’d ever been to being this bad.
But hit on women? He never even paid women any mind, unless he was on leave and horny. And, shit, he was a man; men were always horny, right? He sure didn’t hit on women as often as his dick demanded. He’d been horny for months and not gone to the trouble of finding a willing woman. He frowned as the thought settled over him. The truth hit hard enough to make him tense up. He’d not had sex since moving up here. Well, maybe he’d been a bit off his game, but that was all.
Watching the rolling hills pass by his truck, he stretched his legs and shifted on his seat. Life had a way of knocking a person down one too many times. He simply hadn’t known what he wanted. Now he knew. And wouldn’t you know it? What he wanted thought he was some kind of loser, hitting on all the women. Because of one kiss in a hardware store?
He didn’t have a clue how to pursue a woman. He was from a man’s world. He’d served with men. He’d fought side by side with men for years. And now? He worked on a ranch, surrounded by more men. Women weren’t really a factor in his life, and he sure never flirted with women, as in plural. Oh, he was making a play for Susan, but not for some quick tumble. From Susan he wanted a great deal more. What exactly he wanted, he wasn’t quite sure. But he wanted it.
His stomach knotted as he took the curve in the road that led down to her house. Her truck wasn’t parked in the driveway. Didn’t she ever stay home? He sat up straighter and considered where she might be at this early hour. Maybe the grocery store. Women got up early for that shit, didn’t they? He exhaled heavily and headed down to town. Maybe he’d catch her buying food and he could suggest dinner out or something easy like that.
Frowning at the thought, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. She might think he was coming on too strong if he did. Maybe he had been too forward with the kiss, but she’d been so damned hot. She’d smelt so good and that recruit, Bud, had been staring at her ass as if he’d had a chance of touching it. It’d been all Russell could do to only kiss her once and not drag her into something a lot hotter.
How did a man fight a misperception? He was trying here, and the ache in his groin was a killer motivation to speed things up a bit. He could be patient. He knew he could. Maybe with time Susan would see he wasn’t a flirt. He could do patience. He’d been a Goddamn sniper, for Christ’s sake. He could crouch down in the hot sun, not moving more than an inch every thirty minutes, and wait for three days in the blazing heat for his shot.
And now, when patience might actually be useful? He felt like he’d used up a limited supply. He felt desperate to secure Susan. Now. Not in a day. Or a week. Or even two months. He knew a great guy from another team who’d gone months dating a little nurse down in Oklahoma. The guy hadn’t scored a thing for all that time. Was that even physically possible at this point?
He shifted his legs to ease the ache in his groin and exhaled wearily. He supposed so. Simply thinking of all that creamy skin and those big, blue eyes made him want to be with her right now, hold her close and breathe in her scent.
And there she was. He had to force his hands not to jerk the truck over the kerb so he could get into the parking lot before her truck left.
Slow down, big boy. Down. He yanked the truck door open and raked a hand through his hair as soon as he’d made certain her truck was empty. Chilly air helped tamp down the simmer he had going on, but a panicky feeling settled in his gut.
He headed towards the store and hauled the door open in a daze. Think. She thought he was a big jerk, some kind of womanising redneck. Well, cool and calm might work. Shit, could he even do that? Exhaling, he ran a hand through his hair again and shook off his unease. He was a Goddamn Navy SEAL. He could do this.
Maybe he should ask her out for coffee. Or lunch? Or maybe she would like to come up to the ranch. His heartbeat hit a hundred and eighty. He had no idea if she even drank coffee or liked horses or even ate lunch.
“Why, Major Ryland, good morning.”
God, she sounded so damned teasing. Were all beautiful women like this? A creamy beige skirt hugged every inch of her from just above her sexy knees, all the way up to meet a silky green top under a small, beige, feminine jacket. High heels with a thin strap across the small ankles completed the sexy-as-hell outfit. And, of course her hair was down her back, one side hooked behind her tiny ear in a casual style.
He blinked to clear his head, then had to clear his throat, and thank God he’d kept his jacket on, because his dick was not going down. He gritted his back teeth at how tight it felt against his zipper.
“Russell, and good morning, Ms Fielding.” Correcting her had become second nature now, but maybe Sunshine had been too much. And why was she dressed up? And why did she insist on calling him that? He wanted to hear her call him Russell, or Russ, even. No one called him Russell or Russ. Ace, Major, Major Ryland, Ryland, but not Russ and never Russell.
Her smile slipped, and she blinked before busting out in another pretty laugh. “Ms Fielding?” She pursed those pink lips and shook her head up at him. “You are too much.”
“Here we are; try this one.” Dave, the owner, operator and chief-in-charge of Dave’s Hardware strode up with some kind of lock in his hand. Another lock? Had she had trouble with the first one? And why need another one anyway? Hadn’t the house come with a top
of the line security system?
“Ah, great. So, you were going to show me the back of it?” Susan sounded hesitant, even a bit uncertain, which was new. The woman always looked so active and happy. Other than the first day, he’d not seen anything but a grin on her face.
Now, a lock made her look worried? Her small fingers played with her hair, tucking it back behind the shell of her ear. He wanted to kiss her there, right behind her ear where he just knew she’d be sensitive.
Dave gave her a blank look. She tilted her head and waited. Dave was not the most gentle of men, but that look got him to do what she’d asked.
Pointing to the lock he’d set on the counter, Dave said, “Now, see this? This is the front locking mechanism. The back goes this way—”
“Oh, no!” Susan startled Dave with a laugh and covered her mouth, her blue eyes widening in surprise over her hand. “I think…oh, I am so sorry! I think I put it in upside down. That’s why the lock wasn’t working.” She grumbled the last as if it was the lock’s fault.
Russell coughed to hide a laugh and got a quick, blue-eyed glare. And, of course, that brought his dick to attention.
“Yeah, that’ll do it every time. Doors are tricky that way.” Dave blinked and slowly grinned.
Susan shook her head slowly. “Tricky is not what I would call it. I worked on that thing”—she gave the lock a dirty look—“for a few hours.” She picked the lock up and turned it around. “I think I got it inside out, too.”
Dave grinned even more at that, then wiped his mouth with a hand and nodded. “Yeah? That’s too bad. Now, what you need is—”
“I’ll come by and help you out, how’s that?” Russ asked, hoping he didn’t sound too pushy, like he was hitting on her or otherwise flirting. Didn’t matter if she thought so, though, because he wasn’t allowing her to put another of these useless locks on her door. “Better yet, why not have a security system installed? This”—he took the cheap lock and turned it over in his hand—“would stop someone for about five, ten minutes tops, right, Dave?” He could break it in less than ten seconds, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Less, if they’re determined. Locks like this are to make you feel better, not stop anyone,” Dave assured her, sending him a sharp glance. The man was no fool. At fifty, he was still as sharp as a tack and no doubt had Russell pegged.
Susan gave him a blue-eyed stare. It seemed Little Miss Sunshine had, too. “Let me get this straight…” Hand on hip, she squinted up at him. “That lock won’t stop anyone from entering my home, and I wasted a few hours, a lot of cursing, and a whole lot of frustration on it? Why sell it, then?”
Russell watched her give her little lecture, amazed at her all over again. She was worked up, that was for sure. Would she be that passionate in bed?
Dave shrugged. “People like them all the same.”
“Yeah, but they’re crap. These things are worthless. Any criminal worth his spit could have this open in no time. Or go through a window. Or jimmy the back garage door…” Russell said, not willing to let her try for a cheap lock again. Shit, she needed a real security system, not some bolt lock. He stopped when Susan’s eyes widened. Maybe that was too much?
“There isn’t much crime in Troy, miss,” Dave said.
“Well, that’s lovely.” Susan looked down at her watch and gasped. “Oh! Gotta run! Thank you, Mr Dale. Major. Later.”
Russell shot Dave a grin, tipped his hat and followed Susan in time to shove the door open for her. He took her arm as soon as they hit daylight. She didn’t slow down, but shot him a quick frown.
“You really need to stop this arm tugging thing. I have an appointment, and now I’m late.”
An appointment. What did that mean? “I can put that lock in for you, or I can call a company that puts in a much better system. Might be better than a bolt that won’t stop a teenager. My friends have a security system that won’t let a fly in unannounced.”
A feminine brow lifted at that. “Maybe, but, for now, I have to run.”
“How about lunch? I could show you the specs for the security system…”
“I’m busy for lunch. Driving to an interview, but thank you.”
Interview? She was going to work. Of course she was. Most did. Everyone did. She would. He should be. He had colts to worry over, some mares needed to be bred soon, his studs were anxious, the cattle needed tending, calves needed to be checked, fences needed to be maintained, but not much of that made any sense when all he wanted was this petite woman facing him with a teasing look on her pretty face.
“No lunch break?”
She blinked. “They’re taking me out to lunch. Some Italian place.” She met his gaze steadily, and no doubt she saw his mind working at ten times less than its usual speed. It was her smile, he decided. It was so warm, so sweet. And honest. Not forced, but a natural expression. He’d dropped her arm, but could still feel her heat in his palm. Even through the layers of clothing she wore, he felt it.
All right. At least she wasn’t giving him that look women had when men came on too strong. He’d watched men crash and burn, so he knew what it looked like. Only she wasn’t looking too open to negotiation for this, either. He crossed his arms and sighed, put out with her. He’d wait at her door if he had to.
“Well, then, I suppose I might be able to come by after I go pick up a colt, and set that lock up then? At least, until you let me talk you into that security system and contact my buddies to install it.” She would be getting a security system one way or another. Troy might be safe, but no place was safe if you were frightened. And she was frightened. Hours working on that lock? He would have liked to have seen her hot and frustrated…she’d look sexy, he had no doubt.
She chewed her bottom lip, obviously debating how to turn that down cold. Before she could, he met her look with a determined one of his own. She wasn’t as unaffected by him as she tried to appear—he’d spotted the soft pink flush darkening her cheeks. His cock lengthened and swelled. At this rate, he’d need a freezing shower after this and another before he went to her house.
“How about four? That’ll give you time, right? See you then.” He forced a casual wave and turned to walk back inside the hardware store. Why his stomach was in his toes he had no idea. But it was. His heart was racing, too. He was thanking whatever God looked after poor fools when he heard her laughing softly behind him. At least she wasn’t telling him no.
He turned for one more look to take with him through the long day, and instantly wished he hadn’t. Holy hell. She shimmied that tight little knee-high skirt up to get in her truck, and she was wearing thigh-high stockings. His entire body tightened. He spotted lace against a creamy line of pale, toned skin. His gut clenched. Susan was trying to kill him, wasn’t she? She was a fantasy come to life. He’d never seen a woman so sexy in his life. He was a straightforward guy, used to simple things. But she was giving him all kinds of ideas.
Once inside her truck, she looked up and caught him staring. Her lips curled in a knowing little smile. Damn. And he had to make it through another few hours?
Impossible.
If he’d thought the past few hours worrying over seeing Susan had been difficult, not seeing her truck in her driveway nearly killed him. After Dave’s, he’d got his colt, had even dropped off a new mare, and had then driven back to the ranch to help clean stalls since Andy, their hired hand, was out for a few weeks with a bum wrist. Russell had rushed through the chores as if he were on a mission. Now, after taking a long, hot, sweaty two-hour run and showering for another hour because he’d needed to jack off for that long, he was primed to see Susan.
He pulled in and considered what to do. Nothing came to mind, but, before he could even shut the truck off, Susan turned into the driveway. He opened his truck door and got down as she parked next to him, smile already in place. Damn. Now, why did his heart jump around at the sight of her? Was she happy to see him or smiling because, like some dope, he was here waiting for her?
“You went to Spokane? For an interview?” Alone? he wanted to add, but didn’t press his luck.
She gave him a little frown and he realised with a shock that he’d snapped at her. Shit, he was treating her like some new recruit.
“Yep! Uh, the job sounds great. The guys were all okay, but I’m not certain about the commute. I do consulting, but still they’d want me there sometimes, so…not sure.”
She headed for her garage door, and he had to step quickly to beat her to opening it for her. She walked pretty fast for such a tiny thing. Breathing deeply to try to slow his erratic heartbeat, he caught the scent of her. Sweet like some flower, not overpowering, but barely there and mixed with the warm scent of woman. She reminded him of a fresh breeze on a sunny day. She smelt so good he wanted to tackle her against the garage wall, and rip that skirt up to cup her little bottom above those stockings. And didn’t that make him feel like a real big jerk?
“That’s not so far, is it? Not if it’s once in a while.” He didn’t like the idea of her driving so far, but he couldn’t say that.
He held the door for her and she headed in, saying, “Thank you. Well, it’s still far even for once a month or so…” She was chattering away, juggling a backpack and two bags, clearly unaware of how badly he wanted to kiss her. He tried to take the bags, but she set them down on a little counter near a big outdoor refrigerator.
“Once a month? What kind of work?”
He tried to focus, but he was distracted by her scent and the stockings. He’d never seen a woman in stockings. Outside of a magazine or movie, he amended. Not in the flesh. Certainly not less than a foot from him.
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