Hard Wood (Hard n' Dirty Book 3)

by Tara Crescent

  16

  Dom

  The weather is fucking miserable. The visibility is shit. I can’t see more than two feet in front of me. I drive as quickly as I can, parking my truck on the main road instead of pulling into my mother’s driveway. With the ground covered in snow, I can’t risk the slope. It’s steep enough that there’s a good chance that even my truck with its snow tires won’t make it back up.

  I don’t knock on my mother’s door. I head straight for Cat’s cabin and bang on the door. “Cat, are you there?”

  The door flies open. “Dom? What are you doing here?”

  I push my way in and shut the door. Not that it’s any warmer here than it is outside. “That’s a question I should be asking.”

  I don’t shock easy, but I’m shocked by what I see in the dim glow of my flashlight. There’s no furniture in the cabin. No bed, no table, no chair. There’s a sleeping bag on the floor and a small portable stove in the corner.

  What the hell was my mother thinking? She should have told me. I’d have at least brought Cat some furniture. Draped some plastic sheeting over the cabin to keep the worst of the cold out. Cleared my schedule so I could fix up the stove and the worst of the wooden boards.

  Cat’s fully dressed. She’s got shoes and socks on. A hat. Gloves. At least four layers of clothing, from what I can tell. A long woolen scarf is wound around her neck. And her teeth are chattering, and she can’t stop shivering.

  “I was going to walk to the brewpub.”

  It’s a good thing she can’t see the look on my face. In this weather, walking around in the dark? A stab of fear cuts through me. If something were to happen… If she were to trip and fall… City people don’t realize how vicious the weather can be. People have died in conditions milder than these.

  “You’re not walking. Come on. I’ve got my truck.”

  I’m bracing myself for a protest. If she says no, I’m ready to carry her out of here if that’s what it takes. But she doesn’t argue. “Thank you.” Her voice is meek and compliant, and that sends another stab of worry through me. The Cat I know is a spitfire. I need to get her into the warmth of my truck.

  I put my arm around her. We half-stumble, half-walk up the driveway. When we get to my truck, I bundle her into the passenger seat. Jumping into the driver’s side, I stick the key in the ignition and turn the engine on, setting the heat for full blast. My car’s already warm from the drive here, and hot air wafts out. In less than the minute, the cab is warm.

  Cat’s still shivering. I reach behind my seat for an electric blanket and plug it into the cigarette lighter. “Here, sweetheart.” I drape the blanket around her shoulders and hug her into me. It’s an awkward position; I’m half-sitting on the gear shaft and half in her seat, but it’s totally worth it. Her trembling slowly subsides, and warmth returns to her body.

  “What were you thinking?” I blurt out, my very real fear of what could have happened making me stupid and tactless. “Of all the shitty places to stay…”

  She draws away from me and lifts her chin up in the air. “Not everyone has the luxury of choice,” she snaps. At her tone, my heartbeat stutters in relief. My little spitfire is back in action. “Sometimes, you need to make sacrifices to get your business off the ground.”

  “Yes, I know.” My voice is wry. “I’m only too aware of your focus on your brewpub, but catching pneumonia because you were exposed to a winter storm is a pretty sure-fire way to fall behind on your deadlines.”

  She bites her lip and doesn’t reply, and a sudden wave of contrition runs through me. What am I doing? It’s the middle of the night. Knowing Cat, she worked a full day at the brewery. She’s cold, and she’s tired, and she probably wants to curl up in a warm bed and fall asleep, not get chewed out by me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. You had me badly scared. Those cabins aren’t the best place to live when it’s this cold outside.”

  “Yeah, I learned that the hard way.” She sounds subdued, and I feel even more like an ass. “Can you give me a ride to the brewpub?”

  “So that you can sleep on the floor? Hell, no. You’re coming to my place.”

  She gives me a sidelong look. “To your place?”

  I hold up my hands. “I’m not making a pass at you. You said you weren’t interested, and I respect your decision. I’m just offering you a warm place to sleep for the night.”

  There’s a long pause. I hold my breath, waiting for her answer. Finally, she nods slightly. “Okay. Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

  Belatedly, I remember my mother. “Hang on. Let me tell my mom you’re okay. She was worried about you.”

  “You’re Sandra’s son?” She chuckles wryly. “What are the odds?”

  I return her smile. “It’s a small town. Half the residents of Madison are related to each other.”

  I get out of the truck, leaving it running, and slide down the driveway. My mother opens the front door as soon as I knock. “She’s okay?”

  “Cat’s fine. I’m going to take her home. She’ll be staying with me until the storm passes.” I give her an annoyed look. “What on earth were you thinking? You should have called me to make some repairs.”

  She hones in on my first sentence and ignores my irritation. “You’re taking her to your home.” She raises an eyebrow.

  I know that raised eyebrow. Sandra Flanigan is getting ready to give me the third degree. “I met her earlier this week,” I offer in explanation, hoping to cut her off at the pass.

  “Really?” She looks intrigued. Her lips curl into a sly smile, and I suppress a sigh. “You seem very protective of someone you’ve just met.”

  She’s right, but I’m not going to dwell on it. Not going to think about how uncharacteristically I’m acting. Not going to get into my complex feelings for Cat with my mother. “The truck’s running. I’ll give you a call in the morning. You need anything?”

  “I’m fine. The house is crowded with my painter friends. We’ve got wine and cheese and candles.” That smile is still playing about on her lips. “You go take care of Cat.”

  It’s not like that, I want to tell her. I’d love it to be, but it’s not.

  I keep quiet. Grown men don’t whine to their mothers when a woman turns them down.

  “You should take a hot shower.” I find Cat a towel and rummage around in my dresser for a t-shirt. “I’ll make some coffee. Or would you prefer something else?”

  “Hot chocolate?” she asks hopefully.

  My lips curl up in a smile. “I can do that, spitfire. You hungry? I can make soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.”

  She brightens up. “That sounds amazing.”

  I remember my almost empty refrigerator. “Don’t get too excited. The soup’s out of a can.”

  “That still sounds amazing.” She stands on tiptoe and kisses my cheek. “Thank you, Dom. I really appreciate what you’re doing for me.”

  She showers while I prepare her meal. A steaming mug of cream of tomato soup, and a hot grilled cheese sandwich. Dinner of champions. When she comes out, her hair damp, dressed in my t-shirt, her long legs bare, my throat goes dry. Fuck me, she’s beautiful. I want her with painful intensity.

  I can feel my dick stir. Don’t be a fucking jerk, Dom, I think immediately. She’s exhausted, and you promised her a warm place to stay. That’s it.

  I sip my own hot chocolate as she eats. “You asked me what I was thinking,” she says quietly. “I guess I wasn’t. Vicki was supposed to find me a place to stay, but that didn’t happen. I’m broke. I didn’t have many good options.” She gives me a wry shrug. “Right now, everything costs money. The equipment. The grain. The hops. Everything is expensive, and I’ve maxed out all my credit cards. Things will be fine once the brewpub opens. We’ve been careful with our budget. If we open on schedule, we should be profitable by the end of summer.”

  “I had no business yelling at you,” I murmur. “You don’t have to justify yourself to me.”

  She’s wiped ou
t. She yawns loudly and blushes. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Go to bed, Cat. I’ll sleep on the couch.” And spend half the night dreaming about her.

  She gives me a tentative look. “Your bed’s king-size. I don’t roll around in my sleep. We can share it, if you’re okay with the idea.”

  To have her in my bed, only an arms’ reach away. It sounds like the sweetest, most painful kind of torture, and I’m a fool for even entertaining the idea. “Okay.”

  17

  Cat

  When I wake up, I’m hugging a male body. My right leg is thrown over Dom’s hip, and I’m using his shoulder as a pillow.

  He must feel me tense because his eyes flicker open. “Hey,” he says softly.

  The smart thing to do would be to jump like a startled cat, disengage myself from him, and run like hell out of his apartment.

  I stay exactly where I am, and meet his sleepy, unfocused gaze. “Hey.”

  So far, I’ve seen Dominic Wilde amused, and I’ve seen him mocking. He’s looked wickedly sexy, and he’s looked devilishly handsome. This morning though, he looks different. Almost tender. He looks like his walls are down.

  Probably because he’s not caffeinated yet. Get a cup of coffee in him, and he’ll be back to normal.

  I don’t make any effort to untangle myself from him. I don’t know why. Probably because I’m crazy. Probably because I’ve wanted him from almost the first moment I saw him, and I’m really, really tired of denying myself.

  Or maybe it was the way he’d wrapped a blanket around my shoulders last night. Maybe it was the way he’d made me hot chocolate and soup. Maybe it was because I was reminded, once again, that underneath all that male hotness and sex appeal is a dependable, good-hearted man.

  “Thank you again for last night.”

  He puts his finger on my lips, and I fight to keep myself from kissing it. “You keep thanking me,” he murmurs, his voice a warm rumble. “There’s no reason. I did what anyone in my place would have done.”

  I’m not so sure. Will would have rescued me, but he would have gone on and on about my stupidity and my thoughtlessness. He would have made me feel like an idiot. Like I’d put him out, and he’d done me some kind of big, massive favor by coming for me.

  “I’m not used to asking for help.” My voice is hushed. The two of us are in a cocoon, and if I speak in a normal voice, I’m afraid I’ll shatter this moment. “I’m a woman in a male-dominated industry. I need to work twice as hard as the guys. Be twice as creative. I’m not allowed a moment of weakness.”

  Dom rests his hand on my bare thigh, big and warm and strong. “It’s okay to let go of the weight you carry, kitty cat. It’s alright to put it down for a while. To take a break.”

  He said the same thing to me on Tuesday. In this very apartment, as a matter of fact. And then, he’d offered me the best sex of my life.

  I was skeptical then. I’m not anymore. I’m pretty damn sure Dominic Wilde can deliver, and judging from the erection that’s tenting his shorts, he’s still interested.

  He follows my glance. “Morning wood,” he says dryly, rolling his eyes. “Ignore it. My cock is ever hopeful around you.”

  I giggle and then feel silly about giggling. “Is the offer still open?”

  He doesn’t make me elaborate. “If you’d like,” he replies quietly. A shadow passes over his face. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  He thinks I’m feeling pressured into sleeping with him? My nipples are erect, my pussy wet. My insides flutter with nerves and want and desire. I might not have a tell that’s as clear as a hard dick, but the moment he sticks his hand down my panties, he’s going to find out that I want him as much as he seems to want me. I want him with a fierce ache that hasn’t gone away all week.

  I prop myself up on an elbow and give him a mock-glare. “Are you implying that I’m offering you sex in exchange for your help yesterday? For one night in your apartment?” I bite back my smile. “Please. I’m not up-to-date on modern dating protocols, as you already know, but it’ll take a minimum of three nights.”

  His eyes fill with amusement. “It’s a deal,” he says promptly. “On a more serious note, the storm’s supposed to rage all weekend. You’re not sleeping in that shack. You’re staying here.”

  “Pretty high-handed, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve been accused of far worse,” he replies with a shrug. “It’s not safe, Cat. I don’t want anything to happen to you. If you’re uncomfortable sharing my apartment, I’ll crash at a friend’s place.”

  “Or you could stay,” I whisper.

  My friend Anise’s booty calls involve sex and nothing but. No spending the night. No sleeping together. No shared meals. No cuddling. What Dom’s talking about, on the other hand, doesn’t sound like casual sex. I don’t know what to think of it.

  Then don’t. Stop over-analyzing everything.

  Dom’s hand is still resting on my bare thigh. We both know that this is going to happen. We’re going to sleep together. But he’s not jumping me. He’s infinitely patient.

  “Or I could stay,” he agrees. “Say the word, Cat.”

  I can’t pretend anymore. I need him, and I’m really tired of denying myself. “Yes.”

  “Thank fuck,” he groans, shattering the illusion of patience. He rolls me so that I’m on top of him, and he puts his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me close. “I can’t wait to taste you again, kitty cat. I can’t wait to hear you moan for me.”

  God, he’s gorgeous. Hard chest, with the perfect sprinkling of chest hair. Six-pack abs that wouldn’t be out of place on the cover of a magazine or a hot-guy calendar. For an instant, I fantasize about a Dom calendar. Dom riding a tractor, half-naked. Dom holding a puppy, his jeans riding low on his hips. Dom in a ripped t-shirt, staring into the camera, his dark eyes gleaming, a fuck-me look on his face.

  Then I snap out of the fantasy, because I’m straddling the real thing, and he’s watching me with an amused smile. “My eyes are up here, spitfire.”

  My lips twitch. I can feel his erection. Slowly, holding his gaze in mine, I move over him, grazing his hard-on. He groans, and tries to grab my hips, but I squirm away. “You have lovely eyes. Right now, I’m interested in something else.” I think back to one of our first conversations. “Besides, I think I was promised a dick pic.”

  “You’re right,” he agrees solemnly. His eyes are hungry. “Right now, I have other things on my mind.”

  He rolls me off him and onto the bed, flat on my back. He moves over me, a knee between my thighs, his weight resting on his hands on either side of me. “I’ve been fantasizing about this moment all week,” he grinds out. “I’m not going to be able to hold on, Cat. We’ll do it slow and easy in a bit, but right now, it’s going to be hard and fast.”

  “What are you waiting for?” My voice is almost shaking with need; I feel a rush of wetness in my pussy from his firm tone. I reach for the waistband of his shorts, not-so-accidentally brushing against his erection in the process, and he growls and grabs my wrist. “What?” I pout. “I thought you said hard and fast.”

  “Yes,” he agrees. “But first, I want to do this.”

  He kisses me, deep and long. For an instant, I fret about morning breath. Then his hand cups my breast, his thumb grazing my nipple. I arch my back and moan into his mouth. All other thoughts fly out of my mind.

  I reach up and pull him closer to me. “More,” I whisper into his mouth, running my hands through his dark hair. He obligingly squeezes my breast harder, and I squirm underneath him, desire rushing through me.

  “You’re wearing too many clothes,” he growls. “As much as I love seeing you in my t-shirt, take it off.”

  “Bossy much?” I think about the way he made me hold onto the rings at his friend Zach’s BDSM room, and a fresh gush of arousal floods me.

  “Guilty as charged. Get naked, Cat.” He doesn’t wait for me to comply. He grabs the hem of my t-shirt and lifts it up over my head. He make
s a low, rasping sound in his throat as my breasts come into view. “Fucking gorgeous. Even more beautiful than I remembered.”

  His thumb swipes over my nipple again, and I shiver in response. “Please,” I whimper, running my hands over his body, drawing his hard body over me, luxuriating in the solid weight of him pressed down on me. “More.”

  “Anything for my kitty cat.”

  He smiles lazily and rubs my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Heated pleasure spirals through me. “Oh God, yes,” I say through clenched teeth. “Do that again.”

  He chuckles and repeats the motion. I writhe under his body. Moving my hands to his sides, I start tugging at his briefs. “Fair’s fair. I got naked. It’s your turn.”

  “You’re still wearing panties,” he points out.

  “Not for long.” I wriggle them off. He watches, his eyes hot with need. “Get naked, Dom.”

  “Who’s bossy now, kitty cat?” He loses his briefs, and I inhale sharply as his erection comes into view.

  Let’s take a moment and talk about cocks, shall we? The world is filled with them. Big ones and small ones. Thick ones and skinny ones. Veiny and smooth. Cut and uncut. Crooked and straight.

  If I were judging a dick pic, Dom would get a perfect score. He’s big, big enough that my mouth is watering. Thick and straight. A drop of precum is glistening at the tip, and I want to taste him.

  So do it, Cat.

  I wriggle out from under him and push him on his back. Kneeling next to him, I close my hand around his cock and lower my mouth onto him.

  He groans out loud. “Cat,” he hisses out. “What are you doing to me?”

  I hold off long enough to answer. “Returning the favor.” Then I take his length into my mouth, my tongue swirling around his head.

  I’m rewarded by his throaty moan. His hand grips the back of my neck, but he doesn’t push, he just touches me. Holds on to me. It feels sexy and intimate.

  Dom’s other hand gropes for my breasts. His fingers play with my nipples, pinching them and pulling them. My body goes heavy with desire, and I gasp with pleasure at his touch.