1001 Dark Nights (8 page)

None.

She couldn’t take that chance.

Even if she just had one quick run-in with Stitch this weekend, he’d see firsthand that she wasn’t crying in her camper over him. That she’d hooked up with a hot man who sometimes stared at her—when he thought she wasn’t looking—like he’d already stripped her naked and was fucking her over the back of his couch.

If it made her a douche-nozzle to fantasize about the shock on her ex’s face when he realized his loss was a better man’s gain, then so be it; she’d take it.

“London?”

“I like the way you say my name. Classy and dignified, with a hint of sexiness. Makes me wonder how it’d feel to have your mouth on me when you moan it.”

“Jesus, London, knock it off.”

She frowned. “Okay, that wasn’t sexy at all.”

“I’m not trying to be sexy with you right now,” he snarled—in a decidedly sexy way, not that she’d point that out.

“You should be!” She poked him in the chest. “We’re in
lurve
, remember? We are in the throes of a new relationship and that means we oughta be talking about fucking all the time.”

“Do you always say the first damn thing that pops into your head?” he demanded.

“Pretty much. No reason to beat around the bush when you could be touching my bush, if you get my drift. See, alls I’d have to do is scoot my butt to the edge of this counter and you could slide inside me. After we’re done eating supper, you could spread me out on the dining room table and have me for dessert.” She allowed a small smile. “Or I could have you.”

“Is there a point to your teasing?”

“That’s the thing,” she mock-whispered. “I’m not teasing.”

While he stood staring at her—
through
her really—she saw his eyes darken as he imagined the exact scenarios she’d just detailed. Then his eyes turned conflicted and a little frosty. “Bullshit.”

“What?”

“You’re bein’ a cock tease. You said you wanted to be
friends
, remember? Wasn’t what I wanted, wasn’t what I thought you wanted, but I’ve stuck to those parameters. So we’re friends. But every damn time you touch me or get close to me and say such blatantly sexual things, the last goddamn thing I’m thinking about is bein’ your friend. I’m a man, not a fucking saint, as I’ve heard you mutter loud enough for me to hear. You bein’ all cute, flirty, funny, and sweet ain’t helping me keep the parameters
you
set Sunday night.”

Her jaw dropped. “
That’s
what you got from our conversation Sunday night? That I just wanted to be friends with you?”

“How else was I supposed to take it?”

“Like it was the talk you demanded we have
before
we got involved on any level! That we’d discuss it. I said
friends
because I didn’t think you’d appreciate me saying I’d rather ride
you
all damn night than your horse. And you jumped to the conclusion that
all
I wanted to be with you was friends? Bullshit. You ran away and pouted, bulldogger, when you jumped up and went to bed.”

“What should I have done instead?”

“This.” London curled her hand around the back of his neck and pulled his mouth to hers. No sweet kiss, no teasing. She fucked his mouth with her tongue like she wanted him to fuck her body. A hot, wet, drawn-out raw mating.

Sutton clamped his hand on her ass and jerked her to the edge of the counter, pressing his groin to hers. Kissing her without pause, holding her in place so he could ravage her mouth and her throat.

After his lips blazed a trail to her nipple, and he sucked on it through the fabric of her cami, she pulled back. “Tell me, bulldogger. Does that feel like I just wanna be friends with you?”

“No. Now give it back. I’m not done with it.”

She started to laugh, but it turned into a moan when he pinched the wet tip with his fingers as his mouth reclaimed hers.

Holy hell could the man kiss. And touch. And rub and grind and get her so hot and bothered with her clothes on that she might’ve had a teeny orgasm right there.

Four loud raps sounded on his outer bedroom door, followed by, “Sutton? Come on. Dad’s waiting in the truck.”

Sutton froze. Then he broke the kiss and gazed into her face. Any chance she’d had of making light of the situation evaporated when she saw the sexual heat smoldering in those turquoise eyes.

When he brought his thumb up and traced the lower swell of her lip, the intensity pouring from this man might’ve set off another mini
O
.

“Sutton? Who’s at the door?”

“Cres. We’re taking Dad out to the Moose Club for poker night.”

“Shouldn’t you get going?”

“Yeah. In a minute.” He pressed a kiss to her lips, then her chin, then her cheeks. “I’ll be back late.”

That’s when she knew they were done for tonight—all night. She hopped down from the counter. “Thanks for the first aid. I’ll go lie down now, but have fun with your family and I’ll see you in the morning.”

London pushed him out of his bathroom and locked the door.

Let him meet his brother with a hard-on. It’d serve him right for being an idiot.

Friends. What the hell had he been thinking?

* * * *

Sutton’s cell phone rang on his nightstand early the next morning, yanking him from a hot dream where he’d taken London up on her offer of an after-dinner treat—except in his version they were on the rug in front of his fireplace, him having his dessert while she also had hers. Sixty-nine usually didn’t appeal to him, but in his dream, he didn’t have to concentrate on both giving and receiving pleasure—just being naked with her was the pleasure. Warm skin beneath his hands, her skilled mouth, the long trail of her hair teasing up the inside of his thighs...

His phone kept buzzing.

He answered, “Yeah?”

“Grant? It’s Ramsey.”

Ramsey? Why the hell was his shooting buddy calling him so early? “Do you know what the fuck time it is?

“Seven. I thought you ranching/cowboy types were up when the cock crows.”

“I’m not a rancher, as you well know, so fuck off.”

Ramsey laughed.

“What’s up? Is your shooting range under fire?”

“Ha. Ha. You’re fucking hilarious first thing in the morning.”

“Why else would you be calling me? Wait. Are you offering your favorite customers free day passes?”

“You wish. And you’re more than just a customer.” Ramsey paused. “Look, this might seem like it’s coming outta the blue but the truth is we both know that we’ve skirted this subject for months, so I’ll just say it straight out. You’re dealing with some heavy shit as far as getting back on track with your career. I recognize restless, man. So I’m not convinced that you want to return to that life on the road.”

Sutton had no idea where this conversation was coming from. Wasn’t like he’d gotten shitfaced with Ramsey and spilled his guts.

Maybe your lack of enthusiasm about returning to rodeo isn’t as disguised as you believe.
Your brothers mentioned the same thing in passing. More than once.
“Now you’ve got my attention.”

“I appreciate every time you’ve pitched in and helped out at the gun range. I’ve hinted around that I could use you on a part-time basis. You’ve been polite but vague on whether you’d seriously consider it. So maybe you won’t give a damn, but I’ve run into a tricky situation, hence the early morning call.”

“What situation?”

“My full-time range master, Berube, got orders and he’s being deployed in a month. His deployment will last a year. That leaves me short a range master.”

“Which makes me feel your pain as a customer and your friend, but why are you telling me?”

“Because you’re an expert shot. You’re very knowledgeable about guns without being a know-it-all asshole or a reckless dick.”

“But I’m not a range master.”

“You’d be a shoo-in to pass the range master’s exam—the firearms range testing portion anyway. There’s also a written test, but since you’ve earned a college degree, I’m sure that won’t be a problem either.”

Ramsey didn’t hand out praise lightly, and Sutton found himself feeling proud of something for the first time in months.

“It’s short notice, I know, but I’d planned a boys’ night out for my instructors at my cabin to discuss the future growth of the gun range. Every guy who works for me will be there, so if you’re even remotely interested in the position, this’d be the ideal time to get answers directly from the ones who work with me.”

“Just one night? Or an all weekend thing?” He couldn’t flake out on London. She expected him to play his part as her boyfriend.

“Just one night. Weekends are our busiest time so we’ll be back at work tomorrow.”

Two knocks sounded on the door. Then it opened and London walked in.

More like she sashayed in, wearing a see-through flimsy black thing that left nothing to the imagination. He could make out every muscled inch of her toned legs, the slight flare of her hips. Her flat belly and defined abs. Strategically placed bows hid her nipples but not the sweet curve of her tits.

“Sutton? I hope I’m not interrupting. I heard you talking in here so I assumed you were up. Look, I can’t figure out the coffee pot. It keeps beeping at me every time I hit start.”

Mostly Sutton heard,
blah blah blah
which translated to, “Look at my perky tits,” followed by
blah blah blah
, “look at these naughty red panties that barely cover my pussy,” and then
blah blah blah
, “look at my sexy bedhead and imagine holding this tangled hair in your fists while I suck your cock.”

Fuck me.
Fuck me twice.

“What the hell? Did you just tell me to fuck off?”

His rational train of thought had hit a fucking brick wall named London Gradsky.

“Sorry, no, I didn’t say that. Gimme five minutes and I’ll call you right back.” Sutton tossed the phone on his bed without checking to see if he’d actually ended the call. “What. In. The. Name. Of. All. That’s. Holy. Are. You. Doing. Half. Fucking. Naked. In. My. Bedroom?”

“I told you! Were you even listening to me?”

Not the words falling from your mouth when your body is speaking its own language loud and clear.
He cleared his throat. “I was on the phone, so I missed most of what you’d said. What’s the problem?”

“Your coffee pot hates me. I can’t figure it out.”

“I’ll be right there after I slip some pants on.” And after he whacked off so she didn’t see how hopeful his dick was at seeing a hot, half-naked woman in his room first thing in the morning.

“Fine.”

She turned to flounce out and he noticed she wore a thong. So she treated him to a full look at that perfect ass of hers before the crabby, horny man inside him yelled out, “And you’d better put some damn pants on too!”

Even with morning wood it only took him a minute to rub one out in the shower. He brushed his teeth and packed his overnight bag before he exited his room.

In the kitchen, he was both relieved and annoyed to see London had donned a robe.

“Took you long enough,” she groused. “You’ve had coffee ready for me every day this week, so I don’t think you understand the importance of coffee in my life. I’m a bitch on wheels without my morning caffeine fix.”

“I saw the poor, unfortunate coffee maker that failed to do your bidding, so I’m aware of your demands. Watch and learn.” He dumped the beans in and set the lid on the filter basket. “Line up these arrows. This is a grind and brew model. If the arrows aren’t lined up, then it won’t work at all.”

“Oh. Thanks. Now it makes sense.”

He smothered a yawn. “You’re welcome.”

“What time did you get home last night?”

“Late. Dad likes to cut loose on poker night. Especially if he wins. If I’d gotten home earlier, I planned on...” His gaze swept over her, from bedhead to pink-tipped toes. “Never mind what I’d planned ’cause it’s a moot point now. That phone call earlier was a reminder that I have a prior commitment. So I’ll be gone all day and tonight.”

“But you
will
be back by tomorrow? You’re coming to the Henry County Fair and Rodeo with me this weekend?”

“Yes. But I’ll have to meet you there.”

“Promise?”

He scowled. “I’m a man of my word, London.”

She scowled back at him. “You’d better be. And where are you going on such short notice anyway?”

Away from temptation. At least for one night. While I figure out why in the hell I like you so much and I’ve only known you five days. And why that make-out session last night in my damn bathroom was more erotic than any sex I’ve had in years.
“I’m headed out for a retreat.”

“A spiritual retreat? Is that why they call you ‘The Saint?’”

Sutton rolled his eyes. “I’m called ‘The Saint’ because I carried a Saint Christopher medallion my grandmother gave me when I first joined the pro tour. The guys saw it and ragged on me endlessly.”

“Good to know. I’m assuming the name fit your lifestyle back then?”

“At first they tried calling me ‘The Monk’ but it didn’t stick.”

“Why not?”

He pinned her with a look. “Because there’s a big difference between bein’ a saint and a monk. And newsflash, darlin’… I’m neither.”

Flustered, London poured a cup of coffee while the pot still brewed.

“How’s your arm today?”

She faced him and shrugged. “Doesn’t feel too bad.”

“So you’re working with Dial this morning?”

“That’s what I get paid to do.”

His cell phone rang again. He checked the caller ID. Ramsey. Impatient bastard. He tucked his phone in his pocket. “I’ve got to go. Do you need anything before I do?”

“No.”

“You’re sure? No issues locking up?”

“I’ve been in a house in the country by myself before, Sutton.”

If she’d shown any fear, he’d open up the locked door and assure her that she was far better protected than she could fathom.

“Wait. There is one thing I want.”

When Sutton’s eyes met the heat in hers, he knew exactly what she wanted. To avoid temptation, he curled his hands around the straps of his duffel bag and took two steps backward. “I can’t. Not now.”