“Hey, Sparks, there’s a message arriving.”
She nodded, her cheek brushing his shoulder. As she straightened, Kylie felt him lift her off his lap and place her before him. “Bathroom,” she murmured, twisting around.
He caught her waist so fast it stunned her briefly. There was no way to fight his Titan-strong arm, either. “What?” she demanded, her temper flaring.
“Not too long, darlin’, or I’m coming in after you. I like you sittin’ on my lap.”
Defiance burned inside her. “It takes as long as it takes.”
Drawing her backward, he nuzzled behind her ear, next to her lobe. Kylie quivered inside as he sensually stroked his nose upward. God, she adored what he did to her.
“Not too long,” he rasped. Lazily, he nibbled down the side of her neck, then slowly removed his arm.
“Now that’s persuasion,” she muttered, moving away from him.
Wow. Oh, double wow. Triple wow.
That was how she’d dreamed of being with a man. Not just having ultra hot, panting sex with him, but feeling a sense of grand passion. Yeah, with an erotic chaser, in this case.
Kylie stretched as she walked inside her pink-paradise bathroom. Thinking of Dillon and everything he’d done to her and remembering what she’d done to him, she dreamily simmered inside.
Once she’d cleansed herself, Kylie stood before her vanity mirror and looked at her reflection. Her cheeks were still flushed, her eyes over bright and her hair mussed, but not too unattractive. She hugged herself as the corners of her lips lifted into a smile.
A moment later, Kylie felt as if she broke into a million zillion pieces. Instead of a flesh and blood woman, she’d somehow turned into a shattered glass. Surprised by her reaction, she stared, then forced herself to bend down for a hair brush.
What was wrong with her? A delayed trauma to everything she’d been through? Dillon himself?
No doubt, the man was a super powered force of nature, almost not to be believed. Of course, he could be the norm here, on this Earth. Kylie suspected, though, he still stood head and shoulders above most men.
From what she’d observed, not Dono and Dash. In their individual ways, they owned the same force, differently expressed according to their natures.
Yet, something about Dillon, something so strong…so invincible, even though she knew, sensed he had his vulnerabilities like any human being…and yet…
In a flash, Kylie realized her feelings for Dillon might as well be the firecracker-blazing sky on the Fourth of July. Teardrops leaked from her eyes. Maybe it was all too much, way too fast.
Only a few days ago, she’d been in her small house, a hardworking Graduate student. True, she’d been a believer in the theory about other dimensions. But now, here she was actually experiencing, living a Sliders episode. Only she wasn’t sliding back to her Earth. So it appeared.
Talk about a transition and adapting to a new environment. With her tears dripping more slowly, Kylie drew the brush through her hair and automatically styled it. What now? A breakdown.
The old Rolling Stone’s song “19th Nervous Breakdown” played in her head. The mother of one of her childhood friends had blasted the song throughout her house whenever her kids refused to obey or acted up.
Setting the brush down, Kylie smiled at the memory. One summer, the song could be heard almost every day. The house had become known in the neighborhood as the giant boom box.
After patting her tears dry, Kylie let her feet carry her toward Dillon. Usually, she would have handled this kind of emotional overload by immersing herself in her research. Now, it felt as if she whirled apart.
I feel like a damn galaxy with no center of gravity.
No center. What had been the center of her life was gone. Gone with the winds of cruelty and injustice. Darkly amused by where her thoughts had ended up, Kylie felt a bit of relief.
Dillon typed on the keyboard, his gaze intensely focused on the screen. “A warrior using technology as his weapon,” she whispered, padding closer. Crap, she didn’t really want to disturb him. After all, she hadn’t liked being interrupted while deep in her studies, except for an emergency, or a shit-good reason.
Rotating in a complete circle, she scanned the room. Impressive furniture, all of it man sized and most of it leather, filled the section she’d label the library. Floor-to-ceiling shelves, loaded with books, formed a three-sectioned wall that stood separately from the surrounding walls of the room.
Large Navajo-like rugs covered most of the floor in the library. However, cattle hides of various types littered a large area in front of an enormous hearth that looked to have been used recently. The warmly toned pale stone used to build it was gorgeous and formed a section of a wall, probably an outside wall, though it was difficult to tell. The house, from what she’d seen, so far, had been added onto many times, and redesigned.
Confused, Kylie looked for heating vents. Where was the warmth on her skin coming from? And the air smelled really pure, not stagnant at all. She’d spied no open windows. “No dust,” she muttered.
“What?” Dillon called back to her.
Kylie whirled around. He’d swiveled in the chair to face her. Her heart thumped ridiculously, and her body tingly-yearned. She had to plant her feet to keep from rushing toward him. “Good hearing. Where’s the dust?”
“Ion zapped. Silver ions circulate throughout the house. Keeps the air clean and the dust from settling.”
“Wow. That would have been great…back home.” Kylie dropped her arms from the stretch she hadn’t realized she’d been doing. Yep, his gaze ravaged her. “Have you finished? I didn’t want to interrupt.”
He folded his arms as if he kept himself from standing up. “Waiting on a reply.”
Kylie swore his voice grazed her skin, sexier than the feel of velvet. And she adored the feel of velvet fabric, always making her Halloween costumes out of remnants she’d bought throughout the year. Not this year, obviously. C’est la vie.
“Solve another mystery for me.” Approaching Mr. Viking Sexy Cowboy with slow steps, Kylie asked, “How come the soap here worked to remove the hair on my legs.” She halted raising her leg. “And on my underarms?”
His somber visage broke into a grin, the sun coming out from behind the thunderclouds. “It began as a demand by the women of Texas about eleven years ago. A couple of chemists figured if they came up with a natural solution, they’d attract wives. They ended up isolating a substance in stinging nettles that dissolves that type of hair for most ladies, when it’s concentrated and joined with hot water.”
“Oh. Cool beans.” Suddenly hit with the urge to be a naughty tease, Kylie asked, “What about—” She flipped up the shirt, flashing her sex curls. “Does the substance dissolve that hair?”
For a few seconds, Dillon stared at what the shirt now covered. Bolting upright, he lunged for her. In reaction, Kylie screamed, then spun around running from him. Wildly excited about him chasing her, she shrieked again.
Racing for a substantial leather couch, she nearly made it to the high arm. He seized her with both of his hard-muscled arms and hauled her against him. Scooping her upward as if she were a lightweight doll, he cradled her. His enigmatic gaze locked with her gaze for such a long time she began to worry something was wrong.
“No,” he softly drawled, “the soap won’t dissolve those red fiery curls of yours, Sparks.” He paused, pivoting with her. “Kylie, you have to promise me something.”
The hair stood up on her arms. “What?”
“You can run from me here, inside. Outside, you can run from us close to the house, out in the open. Never, never run from any of us anywhere else.”
“Why not?” She felt her brow furrow with curiosity.
“Men have lost their womenfolk that way.” With easy strides, he carried her back to the computer area.
“Lost?”
“To the enemy. To other men.” He seated them before the monitor. “Mostly happened at the beg
inning of the border wars. Later, as women became scarcer.”
Sensing his angst, how could she not ask? “Did it happen to you?”
“To one of my cousins. And to a friend. Ruined them for a long time.”
Remembering, Kylie trembled. “Just like Jeb was after me.”
She listened to his breaths deepen as he arranged her on his lap. “Yes, like that. Look at me, sweet thang.”
Kylie met his gaze as his thumb feather-caressed her throat. Astonished by the ferocity flaring in his eyes, she barely felt his fingertips slip into her hair. His palm cupped the side of her face, and his gaze simply penetrated her. Warmth, that’s what he gave her now, the kind of safe content warmth she’d felt in front of a roaring fireplace.
His thumbpad tenderly slid over her mouth. “I won’t lose you.”
“I don’t want to be lost.” Kylie brushed her lips on his thumb, then kissed the work-roughened flesh.
“Kylie.” Sensually, he thumbed the center of her bottom lip.
The way he’d spoken her name made her suspicious nature surface and Kylie moved back from him. “What are you going to do to me?”
“It’s what we’re all going to do to you.”
The harsh passion of his voice flowed through her veins, fiery as lava. At the same time, her middle icily quaked as if she sat on a glacier.
“Look at the screen.” His tone compelled.
“You sound like a vampire.”
Kylie poked with her voice, yet took a glimpse at the monitor. A ranch logo in three different styles blazed beautifully on a background that looked like fine mahogany leather.
“Bella Lugosi?” he asked, puzzled.
“I take it vampires as fictional characters aren’t big around here.”
“Nope.” Sliding an arm around her middle, he hugged her against his body.
“Wow, what a fantastic logo, especially the wild horses.”
“Wild Horse Crossing, that’s the name of our ranch, darlin’. Which one do you like best?”
“That’s not just a logo, is it? That’s a brand.” Kylie swore she spun to a stop inside, like a top that had lost its momentum, and her stomach felt strangely queasy.
“Yes, it’s a brand. Our brand.”
Reeling, she whispered, “What are you going to do?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Why Are You Branding Me?
“It’s called marital branding.”
Marital branding, the term buzzed round and round in her head. Her hands clutched the arms of the chair, tight as claws. “No!”
“Yes.”
“Why?” A silly reaction, yet she’d had to ask. Not that she didn’t want to know the reasoning behind this barbarism.
“It lets every man know you belong to me, Dono, and Dash.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It’s become an accepted practice to establish a marriage ever since there weren’t enough women to go around.” He caressed her waist in a manner that usually would have lit the fires of her desire.
Kylie didn’t let her shock dissipate. “I just bet you three are planning to enjoy this way too much. This marital branding thing.” Shaking her head like a wild thing, she punched at him with her words. “No. I refuse. No, it’s going to hurt…no.”
“Very little pain. Promise, darlin’.”
His tone was soothing. Kylie didn’t buy it. Even if the pain was minimal. So-o-o-o! It still reeked of chauvinism. She wanted no part of it.
“I don’t care.” She whipped her head back and forth again, strands of her hair stinging her eyelids.
“Kylie, it won’t be a raised brand.”
“That’s not the point. What happened to good old-fashioned wedding rings? Not that… never mind.” Talk about hot under the collar, she probably smoked like a barbecue pit.
“Wedding ring?”
He spoke it as if he’d barely heard of such a thing.
“What? There aren’t wedding rings here? Then, why did I see gold bands...at, at the station?”
“Yup, some men do wear them, nowadays, that’s right. But, in the early seventies, a lot of ladies burned their bras and declared wedding rings to be a form of slavery.”
He didn’t hide the amusement in his voice.
Her irritation might as well have gripped her by the shoulders and shaken vigorously. “What’s so funny?”
“Recallin’ all those bras lit up like torches and swinging in the breeze as they burned. Quite a sight.” He hugged her close. “The bras and the freed breasts.”
“If you weren’t so friggin’ big, I’d punch you.”
“If you weren’t already my wife, I’d damn sure rope you…my beautiful Kylie.”
Twisting around, she glared at him. “Besides, wearing bras all the time isn’t healthy. It screws up your lymph glands.”
“Yep. Feel free not to wear them. Though, you in a corset would guarantee my lascivious attentions for a very long time.”
Shit! His low wicked drawl turned her inside out. The mere thought of wearing a corset for him made her impossibly molten. “I’ll remember that, cowboy. And if you fail to live up to my expectations—”
“I won’t. I’ll get you a weddin’ band, if that’s what you want, Sparks.”
Kylie unclenched her teeth and whipped around. “Yeah, and you’ll still make me get branded.”
“Yep. Has to be done.”
Folding her arms, she seethed from every pore she owned. “What am I? A cow…or is that a heifer?”
“You’re our wife. You’re my precious wife.”
His truth seared through her, a type of emotional brand Kylie didn’t bother denying.
“Isn’t there any other way? I mean this seems so barbaric…barbaric in a bad way, I mean. Not in a good Viking way.”
“Good Viking way.” The darker timbre of his voice seduced her. “What if I can make it barbaric in a good way?”
For an instant, Kylie quieted inside. Could he? The persistent sizzle at her core said he could, and she squirmed.
“I don’t care. It’s the principle of the thing.” Defiantly, she stiffened her spine, resisting the urge to tell him he’d have to lasso her like a calf if he wanted to brand her. An image of him, Dono and Dash doing just that formed before her mind’s eye as if she sat in a movie theater, watching. “Fine! Chase me down like a poor calf. It’s not like you haven’t roped me, already.”
“Woooweee,” he purred in that impossibly sexy way she couldn’t resist. “I sure do like you blazin’ this way. You can have any weddin’ ring you fancy, little spitfire.”
Kylie sighed inside, big time. How did she handle a man like this? Besides, their passion could erupt with a force that could be compared to the original big bang. Big Bang…oh, God!
“I do like rings. But, from what I read, wedding bands were originally slave rings. So, forget it. Oh hell. Slaves were branded, too. Tattooed… whatever!”
“Kylie.” He stroked over her belly, and she couldn’t deny her fluttery sensation of desire. “It will also be like a ceremony. It will bond me, Dono, and Dash. That’s important to all of us.”
“Oh, great. I get to be the object of male bonding. That should make me real happy.” Kylie realized there was something to what he said because the brothers would join at a primal level, if what she’d learned in her anthropology classes was true. Regardless, why should she go along with it when it felt so abhorrent to her?
“Object?” His genuine curiosity got her.
“As in sex object, or males who objectify women. Don’t tell me you don’t know what that means here.”
“Are you saying if I admire you when you’re wearin’ lingerie, you’re my sexual object?”
“There’s probably no winning with you.” Kylie huffed a large sigh.
“You already won me, little Kylie. You just ain’t figured it out yet. But, you will.”
“If you keep this up, I won’t be wearing any lingerie for you. A-n-d, just for the reco
rd, I happen to like wearing lingerie…for those special sexual occasions.”
“Oh, do you now?”
His enthusiasm, to put it mildly, was way off the charts. Kylie put that gem in her memory banks.
“I wonder if our likes and dislikes are similar.” She let her thought be spoken. After all, how did she resist that tiny tease of the man who fired all her jets? Even if…
“One way to find out. We’ll do some lookin’ together.”
The way she erotically shuddered inside, his gravelly purr might as well have been one of her lace teddies. The sensual friction felt the same against her skin, that is, until the image of herself, naked with the ranch’s brand, intruded.
“How sexy is lingerie going to look on me if I’m…I’m branded?” Tears suddenly scalded her cheeks. “Dammit, all I do is cry around you.”
Frustrated beyond bearing, Kylie flailed, her own emotional flames burning her alive. Before she knew it, he rocked her in his Viking-brawny arms, holding her close to his chest.
“I know what you need right now, darlin’,” he crooned as if he soothed a child.
Strangled by her sobs, Kylie didn’t answer. What was she going to say anyway? There was nothing short of a genuine miracle or an emergency that would change his mind. She knew that for one hundred percent certain.
Rotating his chair to the side, he launched upward, then carried her across the room. After gently lowering her to the leather couch, he moved toward a grand oak cabinet. It didn’t exactly surprise Kylie when he brought out a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass.
She sniffled as he poured out a swallow. Why not? Maybe she should just get good and damn soused, let them do whatever. “I hate getting drunk,” she snapped, even as she snatched the glass from his fingertips.
“Don’t want you drunk, little thang. I want you sleepy and restin’.”
Holding her breath, Kylie opened her mouth and tossed in the whiskey. She swallowed pure hellfire. Her eyelids tried to widen bigger than was possible while her eyeballs felt like they bulged out of their sockets.
“It’s got quite a kick,” he rumbled.
“I guess so. Wow wee powie.” Kylie shook her head. “My veins are being scorched.”
Branded by the Texans [Three Star Republic] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 25