by Becky McGraw
That’s what scared the shit out of him.
Dylan was never so glad to see his little travel trailer appear in the clearing at the end of the road in his life. Coming out here to have sex with this woman was a very bad idea. He’d changed his mind. What he was going to do was hook up that trailer to his truck, go to his appointment, then he was dropping her pretty, round ass back at the ranch and never looking back. He wasn’t running. He was getting as far away from this woman as he could. Dylan needed some space to get his head right again.
He stopped the truck on the concrete pad by the steps, then opened the door. “You don’t need me to talk to Chris,” he said as he hopped down. “You can do that just fine by yourself.”
Carrie sat on the edge of the seat with her skirt bunched up around her waist, evidently waiting for him to help her down. His eyes slid up her smooth thighs to the crotch of her black panties. His dick got rock hard again, and the remote in his pocket burned a hole at his hip.
She held his eyes and shoved the skirt up further to hook her thumbs in the bands at her hips. She slid them down her legs and let them settle at her ankles.
“Well, fuck me,” he growled, grabbing her waist. He quickly dropped her down to the ground and stepped back. Carrie stepped out of the panties, leaving them lying beside her feet, as she leaned back against the door and it clicked softly.
“I’d love to.” Her eyes locked on his crotch and burned there a moment, before they slid up his body to meet his. She smiled, and he saw trouble in her eyes. “I’m ready to beg,” she purred and Dylan’s heart skidded to a stop. Her tongue made a circuit around her lips, and Dylan’s eyes followed it, mesmerized by the sun glistening on the moisture left behind. He watched her lips move, but her words sounded like they came from far away. “But I want something in return.”
She stepped toward him to put one hand on his chest. The other she placed on his fly, and his jeans got tighter. “You’ve been teasing me for days,” she said stroking him through his jeans. Her voice lowered and she whispered, “I need you to fuck me, right here, right now.”
Dylan bit back a groan and his decision to leave here without fucking her blew away with the gentle breeze lifting her hair, making it look it was on fire with red highlights. “But I want you to promise that you’ll stay the weekend at the ranch and talk to Chris.”
That woke him up. She was greasing him up for a favor, not so hot for him she couldn’t wait another moment for him to fuck her. Carrie Collins was using her body to drag him deeper into her mess. Barter her body for his help. And damn if he wasn’t about to take her up on it.
She had turned the tables and this woman knew exactly what she was doing to him.
“That’s not begging That sounds a lot like bargaining your body for my help. It sounds a lot like prostitution to me,” he growled, fighting to keep his hands from ripping the damned skirt off of her and doing just what she asked. But this is not the way he wanted her. Basically prostituting herself for her kid.
If he took her up on it, that would make him the biggest asshole on earth.
He shoved her hand away from his zipper, and stepped away. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll stay the weekend at the ranch and talk to him, but come Monday morning if I get that release, I’m out of there.” He zipped his jeans up, and huffed a sigh. When he looked back up her damned lower lip was trembling. “What the hell is wrong with you now?” he grated.
“Thank you,” she said on a whisper, and her lip trembled harder. She looked down at her hands which were twisting at her waist. She shifted her weight on her feet. “The panty game was fun, exciting. I’m sorry for messing things up with that stupid offer,” she said through chattering teeth. “I really do need you.”
The sun beat down on the back of his neck, as he stood there staring at the beautiful woman who he wanted more than his next breath. Trying to figure out if she meant she needed him just for his help, or needed him to make love to her. She was definitely mixed up. A mess. More trouble than he needed. Having sex with her again would buy him more, he realized that now. If he was smart, he’d hook that trailer up and haul ass as fast as he could out of town.
But nobody had ever accused him of that.
And that damned panty game had been a lot more than fun. It had been thrilling, powerful, heady. Having power over her like that had been the ultimate turn-on to him. Dylan had never done anything like that before, but he would definitely invest in a pair of those panties so he could do it again sometime. With someone else.
Not with this needy, confusing woman who was begging him to fuck her. After this he was absolutely not letting himself go there again with her. This was the finale to their play.
Dylan extended his hand to her and she took it. “It’s too hot out here,” he said then walked toward the trailer. “I have air conditioner inside, and we have all afternoon.” He left her at the steps with a swat on her behind, which produced a little whimper that clenched his gut. “Go inside and turn on the air. It’s on the inside of the bedroom wall. Take your clothes off, I’ll be right back.”
He walked to the truck, and leaned into the back to get his duffle bag. He had more condoms in there. A whole damned box of them. Before tonight was over, he might need every single one of them. Or he was going to give the old school try.
But they needed to slow things down. Way down. Playing the boss had its own thrill, but so did going slow, working up to it. Getting her worked up. He wanted her primed, as hot for him as she’d been when he’d used the panties on her. Panting for him.
Dylan knew she wasn’t there right now, as much as she was pretending she was. Carrie Collins was nervous and edgy, not turned on. She would never have made that offer to him otherwise. But he would get her back to where she needed to be very shortly, he thought with a smile, as he stopped at the bottom step.
They had a little time to play before he had to leave for his appointment. Then maybe when he was done they could come back here for a few more rounds. He was going to work this woman out of his system. Damn, that one more time he planned to let himself have with her, was turning into a whole afternoon thing now. Maybe half the night, if she was willing.
He really was getting addicted to the woman, and needed to back off.
With a shake of head he walked inside the trailer. Something sharp glanced off his skull. “Ouch!” he wailed, dropping the heavy duffle to the floor. He rubbed his scalp, and something sharp connected with his shoulder. “Fuck!” he yelped backing out of the trailer, almost falling down the steps.
Carrie Collins filled the doorway like a hundred pounds of bare-assed, puffed up and obviously enraged, badger. She swung her arm upward from her side, and between her fingers was a scrap of red lace. He saw what she had thrown at him lying beside her right foot. A shiny red stiletto with a heel so thin and long, it was a wonder it hadn’t embedded itself in his shoulder like a knife.
“Something one of your girlfriends left behind?” she belted out in a throaty voice. “What is this? Your love shack?” She flicked the panties toward him with a disgusted look on her beautiful face, then put her hands on her deliciously curvy hips. “Word of advice, Romeo—you might want to remove these things before bringing another woman here to have sex. That kind of ruins the whole mood.”
Carrie was hot alright, but not for sex. And the only thing this naked, vibrating package of fury was primed for right now was a fight. She picked up the high heel and reared back. Dylan backed up a few steps and held up his hands. “Wait a minute! Those aren’t mine!”
His mind worked overtime trying to figure out who they might belong to, and finally latched onto the obvious answer. Leigh Ann fucking Baker. The beauty queen who he’d let stay in his trailer when she was homeless. Rocky’s sister. This is what he got for being nice to women.
“Well, I should hope not,” she said sarcastically, throwing the shoe at him. He dodged it, but just barely. “Red isn’t your color, asshole,” she said turning her back on
him to hug herself. “Take me back to the ranch.”
Her ass was a masterpiece, Dylan thought, as he walked up behind her. He leaned forward to drop a kiss on her left cheek, as he squeezed the right. She yelped, stepped forward then spun around to glare down at him. “Don’t touch me.”
And damn if she didn’t look even more beautiful when she was mad. Her whole body was practically the same dusky pink as the circles around her nipples. He smiled at her and her lips turned down more. “You jealous, baby?” he asked, with laughter behind his words. “They must belong to a beauty queen who I let stay here a little while.”
A rumble started in her chest, which heaved with her breaths, making her breasts bounce. Her fists clenched at her sides, then she finally erupted in an enraged growl. “You’re not making things better, asshole!”
“Leigh Ann was hot,” Dylan taunted, putting his hand on the outside of her thigh to slide it up to her hip. His eyes raked up her body, hesitated to study her delicious breasts, then he met her eyes. “But definitely not as hot as you, sweet cheeks.”
Her little scream was almost as funny as the balled fist she swung at his head. Dylan dodged the blow and clamped his arms around her knees. She kicked him in the abs, and pounded his back as he leaned her weight across his left shoulder and carried her up the steps into the trailer.
Angry sex was hot, he thought, as he carried her toward the wall-to-wall bed at the back of the trailer. Round two would be make-up sex, which was equally hot. He looked forward to harnessing that passion he saw glittering in her eyes and focusing it into another direction.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Dylan dumped her on the bed, and she bounced then glared up at him. “If you think we’re having sex now, bucko, you’re crazy,” she hissed, covering her breasts with her arms. “Get your damned beauty queen out here to service you!”
“The fact that I want to have sex with you proves I’m nuttier than a fruitcake.” Dylan chuckled as he turned to go retrieve the duffle bag by the door. He slammed the door shut and clicked the lock shut then walked back to the bed. In just the few seconds it took him to get back to the bed, Carrie had put her skirt back on, and was trying to turn her shirt right-side out.
“You like that skirt?” he asked, dropping the bag at the end of the bed.
Her eyes flew up to his. “You don’t like it?” she asked self-consciously. She lifted her hips to look at the back. “It’s the print. It makes my butt look big, doesn’t it?”
“Lady, I wouldn’t touch that question with a ten-foot pole. No matter which female was asking it.” Dylan grabbed her ankle and pulled her to the end of the bed. “From what I saw of it at the lake, and at the door a minute ago, your ass is the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen in my life,” he growled, then narrowed his eyes. “But if you like that skirt, I’d suggest you take it off, because if not, I’m going to rip it off.”
A tremor moved through her leg and her eyes widened. “You have to let my ankle go,” she whispered. Dylan released her ankle, and laid her foot on the bed. Before he could move back, she swung it wide and clipped the side of his jaw with her foot. For a second, he saw stars as she scooted off the bed and tried to get by. He scooped her around the waist and jerked her back against him. “What the fuck are you doing?” he growled into her ear.
“Fucking you, is what I’m not doing. Let me go,” she grated, wiggling furiously in his arms. “Let me go!”
Dylan dragged her to the table to sit her on the bench. He was watching for it, so he noticed her leg cock back under the bench. “Don’t do it,” he warned putting a hand on her knee. She stilled, but her lip started trembling again. “You have no reason to be jealous, Carrie. I was teasing you about Leigh Ann. She’s Rocky’s sister. You know Rocky, the female ranch hand? I let her sister stay out here for a while when she didn’t have anywhere else to go. I didn’t have sex with her,” he said with a heavy sigh. “That’s something else I wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. Her sister would’ve kicked my ass.”
She was quiet a minute, then said, “And Zane Lawrence is someone I wouldn’t touch. You have nothing to worry about there either.”
Dylan’s stomach lurched, and he put a hand over it. Worry? This whole conversation spoke of relationship. Jealousy required caring to fuel it. If he was going to do this, he had to get them back to where they were before.
He forced out a harsh laugh. “I’m not worried about him. I don’t care if you go after him when I’m gone,” Dylan said, forcing the bile back down his throat. “I asked you if you wanted him to watch. It was part of the game, Carrie. Do you think that’s something a jealous man would do?” His stomach told a different story, the words had it boiling, but this was best for both of them. “Now get your pretty ass undressed. I want to fuck you.” He stepped back to stroke his cock, which was surprisingly not on board with the idea right at that moment.
Her eyebrows lifted over her sad eyes. With a sigh she stood and reached behind her to unfasten her skirt. It swished to her ankles and she looked up at him. “Let’s get this over with. Where are the condoms?”
His hand stopped moving on his fly. Her flat emotionless tone, clinical almost, was like a knife in his gut. “You make it sound like a chore. If that’s how you feel, then I will take you back to the ranch.”
Carrie took a step forward to put her hand on his chest. “And you make it sound like something we can do without feeling anything for one another. Without engaging our emotions at all.” She shook her head, and her silky hair brushed his arm. “Dylan, I’m not built that way. I want you so damned much, but I can’t turn off my emotions. I really was jealous. It wasn’t part of the game for me.” She stepped back from him, and hugged her arms around herself. “I was hoping you felt the same about me.”
Oh good god, what had he gotten himself into? This woman had just all but told him she was in love with him, or was at least on her way there. Not good. His chest tightened and it became increasingly difficult to breathe. It felt almost like the walls of the trailer were squeezing his chest.
Her chin dropped to her chest as she stepped out of her skirt, then turned. He watched her ass sway from side to side, her hair float around her shoulder blades, as she walked to the bed to sit down. She scooted back, then held out her hand. “Please make love to me, Dylan. No games, no toys. Just you and me.”
His eyes fell to her breasts, her pebbled nipples, then tracked down her smooth skin until he reached her wet folds and his dick got as hard as stone. Her knees were open, and her body was calling to him.
“Don’t be scared,” she said softly. “I’ll be here with you.” Her soft voice worked like a snake charmer’s call. “I won’t hurt you, Dylan. I’m not asking for forever. Just one time. I know you’re leaving.” Her hand lifted a little higher.
Stunned, Dylan barely heard her over his heartbeat in his ears, her voice sounding like it was coming to him through a tunnel. His feet moved without his permission, carrying him to the bed where he sat down. Carrie moved to her knees to hug his neck from behind. Her fingers fumbled with his shirt buttons, as she kissed his shoulder then his neck. Her vanilla scent drifted to his nose and he sighed.
This woman did not play fair at all.
She was a master at this game, had been the one in control all along. She just let him think he was the one in power. And damn if she hadn’t snuck up on him and won.
“Kiss me like you mean it, Dylan,” she whispered in his ear. Her tongue darted out to trace the shell and he shivered. “Make love to me. Until you’re done with me, I promise I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave you.”
Until you’re done with me.
Dylan had a bad feeling in his gut, after this he would never be done with her. But he didn’t have the will, the power, to get up off the bed.
Carrie scooted off the bed then stepped in front of him. She removed his hat to toss it back on the table. His abs rippled as her fingers brushed his skin on the way down the row of buttons on his shirt
to the waistband of his jeans. With a yank, she pulled the hem from the waistband of his jeans, then pushed it off of his shoulders. Her palm branded his shoulder, as she gently pushed him back to the mattress. She kissed her way down his chest, leaving a trail of fire to his waistband. Raising back up, her hair tickled his stomach as she worked the button of his jeans through the loop, and his muscles contracted.
“Why do you smell and taste like sugar cookies?” he asked gruffly.
He had to know her secret. It was why he craved this woman like none he’d been around before. It had to be that smell represented the home he’d never had as a kid, or something. Maybe if he knew her secret, he could break the spell she had over him.
She laughed, a tinkling sound that sent currents of pleasure along his nerve endings. “When I bought the toys, I bought some edible talc in that flavor. The smell calms me, reminds me of baking,” she said with a shrug. “I bought more when I ran out.”
A jolt of electricity went straight through his dick, when he registered the fact that she did indeed taste like sugar everywhere. Even as it inflamed him, her scent calmed him too. Peaceful. That’s how she made him feel. That itchy, restless feeling that had been such a huge part of him his whole life was gone when he was inside of her. The stillness inside his soul was almost frightening, because he didn’t know how to deal with it.
And he didn’t know how to make love to a woman. Had never done it before. Sure he’d had sex with plenty. But he had never, ever, engaged in the emotional side of the act. Doing it now was a mistake, Dylan knew it, but he couldn’t deny he did feel something for this woman. More than he’d felt for any of the others for sure.
To be inside her again, he’d do just about anything she wanted him to do right now. Even let his heart out of the box he’d kept it in his whole life. I won’t hurt you.