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Authors: Em Petrova

Dallas Nights

BOOK: Dallas Nights
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Dallas Nights

All Rights Reserved

Dallas Nights

Copyright Em Petrova 2013

Kindle
Edition

Cover design by
Fantasia Frog Designs

Electronic book publication
April 2013

 

 

For my readers who want more cowboys! Yeehaw!

 

 

Dallas Nights

The Quick and the Hot Book 1

Em Petrova

 

 

Ellie leaned against the side of her pickup and wrapped her arms around her middle. Squeezing in the pain wasn’t going to stop it from bleeding out.

I made this bed. Time to crawl out of it.

The moonlight glazed the pond over in a sheet of silvery ice. She stared at Hart’s Pond, the heart-shaped body of water where she’d lived so many happy moments—romantic moments.

With Dal
las.

Her eyes blurred with tears, but her lips tipped into a smile. She could almost hear his Texas drawl right now. “
Ellie girl, crying under the moon is as much of a cliché as being a Texan named Dallas.”

She gave a huff of laughter and sniffed back her
tears. Even the Dallas of her imagination was right—she shouldn’t be crying now. She was on vacation, and she was going to see him—to set things straight.

As soon as she got up the guts to sit down with him face-to-face and
apologize for hurting him years ago. Her little college fling with Nathan Rafferty had been just that for her. But she’d gone about it all wrong and hadn’t broken up with Dallas first.

Still, she hadn
’t thought her date with Nathan would go beyond the latest action-adventure movie.

But it did.
She issued a shaky sigh. Her indiscretion had morphed into a monster of mega proportions when Dallas walked into her dorm room and found her doing the naked two-step with the jock. She could say she was young and inexperienced compared to the slick college guy, but it was no excuse.

While the events had taken place six years ago, she still felt the weight like concrete cowgirl boots.

Shaking her head, she pulled away from the truck. The metal was still warm from the beating sun, and she shivered as cool air struck her bare arms.

Wrapping them tighter a
round herself, she stared across the pond for another long minute. Dreaming of tender looks and playful caresses. Of her very own Dallas, grinning lopsidedly down at her while tracing her features with his dark gaze.

A lone howl in the distance made her jerk. Time to get on home. Tomorrow would be soon enough to go searching for Dallas.

She climbed into her truck and started the engine. When she tried to pull out, the tires spun. She eased off the gas and put the truck in four-wheel drive. Tried again. And again.

Her heart sank as she realized she was bogged in the mud.

Jumping out again, she circled the truck and stared at the deep muck. She kicked the tire. “Dammit. Stupid of me to park here. I should have known the ground would be soft.”

Her voice mingled with the night sounds, and she realized how isolated she was out here. She tugged her phone out of her back pocket and stabbed a button.

“No reception. Figures.” Breathing hard with anger at her carelessness, she peered into the night in both directions. Not a single light from a house could be seen, which she already knew. She could map this land blindfolded, and there was nothing for miles, which meant she’d have to walk for help.

Chills crept ove
r her skin, but she rubbed her palms over her arms to dispel them.
No fear, Ellie. There’s nothing out here that you don’t already know about.

 

* * * * *

 

 


What the—?” Dallas bit off the curse and veered the ATV to the right before he struck the bulky form rising out of the darkness. Moonlight glinted on the old Dodge pickup that had no business on his land. Let alone at ten o’clock at night and…

He climbed off the ATV
and circled the rear of the truck.
Yep, bogged down in the mud.

Peering into the cab, he found it empty. Whoever had driven the truck down here to his pond and gotten stuck had apparently abandoned it and gone off on foot.

Shaking his head, his back muscles screaming after putting in a deadly twelve hours erecting miles of fencing to keep his horses from roaming, he returned to his ATV.

The truck didn
’t look familiar, and everyone in these parts knew not to trespass on his land. Hart’s Pond, the equivalent of Lover’s Lane in Greenville, was off-limits now that he owned it.

His engine idled, and he kicked the ATV into gear.
The crisp night air in his face revived him. He drove slowly, swinging his head right and left, searching for a person on foot.

The last
thing he needed tonight was to go on a manhunt. Maybe he could just forget about it. The Texas nights weren’t so cold, and whoever had ditched their vehicle could survive the elements.

Go home. Take a hot shower, grab some grub, and fall into bed.

If only his damned conscience would shut up and give him peace. His mind wouldn’t shake the thought of a person in need of help.


Hell.” He mounted a small knoll, searching the landscape illuminated by his single headlight.

Catching something white flashing along
the ground, he sped up. As he grew closer, he made out a shape. When he was upon her, she turned, throwing up a hand to shield herself from the glare of his light.

He drew to a stop, heart doing a slow plunge
to his cowboy boots. A woman out here alone. With coyotes and dressed in tiny denim shorts and white flip-flops.

Cutting the engine, he remained seated, not wanting to alarm her by getting off and walking toward her. The bluish light cast over her bare legs,
which curved in all the right places from ankle to hip.

Son of a bitch.
His chest grew tight.


That your truck stuck in the mud back there?”

She nodded, squinting toward him but probably unable to make out his face in the glare.
Thank God for that. “Came up for a look around. I lost track of time, and pretty soon it was dark. But when I tried to drive out…” She spread her hands then let them drop.


I can pull you out in the morning. If you don’t mind climbing on the back,” he gestured to the seat behind him, “I’ll take you up to the house and you can call someone to come get you. Or I can take you home.”

Anything but that.

Those curvy legs—dainty ankles, perfectly-sculpted calves, and round thighs had haunted Dallas’s dreams for six years. The last thing he wanted was them wrapped around him again.

Sh
e took a hesitant step toward him, ducking her head to try to see his face, which must be shadowed. “Who… who are you?”


The owner of this pond and land where you’re trespassing.”


Tres—” She gulped. “I’m sorry. I had no idea. I haven’t been in the area for some time.”

No, because you were off in the city with that dumbass
Nathan.

Ellie
Lannigan had been a black star to Dallas for a lot of years, and he intended to keep her that way. After visiting her college dorm, only to walk in to find the jock Nathan Rafferty buried between her thighs, the light of first love had been snuffed out.


Get on.” His voice was gritty and strained. Riding away seemed like the best plan, but he couldn’t leave her out here alone.

She twisted her hands before her, fro
zen in the glare of his headlight. Then as if realizing she had little choice, she moved into the shadows. When she threw one leg over the seat and clamped her thighs around his hips, he ground his teeth against arousal.

Jesus, she
’d been his everything. Summer heat. Sweet grasses under their rolling bodies. He’d taken her virginity on her eighteenth birthday, and fuck, if he couldn’t remember the way her tight sheath had gripped his fingers then his cock.

As soon as she was situated, he zoomed off into the night. She leaned in and drew a deep breath next to his shoulder. The hair on his nape lifted, and he fought the urge to pivot his head and stare into her eyes as he
’d done so many years before.

Except sh
e’d riveted him then.

Now he
was different—older, harder. He no longer believed in happily ever after or soul mates. The minute he’d witnessed Nathan Rafferty sinking into her body, Dallas had abandoned that childish notion.

She didn
’t speak, and he didn’t bother to try. They ran flat-out across the open field toward the thin light on his front porch. When he drew up before the ranch, she released a puff of breath. The warmth washed over his neck, and his cock throbbed.

Ellie
girl, this coulda been yours.

He might have carried her inside and laid her out on their big bed, covering her tiny body with his and loving
her long into the morning hours.

He waited for her to climb off. She did, losing her flip-flop in the process. Damn idiotic footwear for a Texas
gal. She knew better.

She chased the rubber shoe around the grass with her bare toes until she got it underfoot and slid it on. He hitched his leg over the ATV and walked toward the house without a backward glance.

“Come in and use the phone.”

He couldn
’t take her home. Being in the cab of his truck with her, his head filled with her sweet vanilla scent, would be too much. Emotions he had thought long-buried had only been stored with gunpowder. They burst like fireworks.

She followed him into the house. He
switched on the kitchen light and twisted his face aside, but she recognized him.


Dallas,” she gasped. “I thought when I got onto the four-wheeler that it was you. Do you remember me?”


Even if I hadn’t been able to see you, I would have known whose thighs were around me,” he blurted.

She sucked in a harsh breath, and their gazes connected. Her green eyes glistened above tanned cheeks spattered with more freckles than she
’d had six years ago. Her thick, mahogany hair that he’d once spent hours combing with his fingers as she lay in the grass was bundled into a messy ponytail on her nape. Tendrils had broken free and straggled over her jaw.

He scuffed a hand over his face, hoping to erase any emotion he might bear.

She took a hasty step toward him, then drew up short and plastered her fingers to her mouth. Over the tips, she stared at him.

He jerked his head toward the old phone hanging on the wall. “
Make your call.”

She didn
’t budge, white flip-flops glued to the worn linoleum he planned to replace with gleaming oak hardwood in the fall. Once he sold a few horses to raise the cash.

Ignoring her, he walked out of the room. Unable to remain in her presence another minute. The way she looked at him hurt. Hurt bad.

In his bedroom, he dragged his dirty, sweaty t-shirt over his head and threw on another from the top of the clean pile. Shoving his hat back on, he wandered out to the kitchen to find Ellie standing in the center of the room, her face cradled in her hand.

At the sound of his boots, she looked up. Eyes t
ear-bright.

Fuck, woman.
Don’t look at me like that.

He pressed his lips together.

“No one’s home at my house. I can walk. It’s not far.”

He shook his head and grabbed his truck keys off a nail by the door. Not looking back, he escaped the house that would
now forever be tainted with the vision of her standing in his kitchen.

The screen door banged then opened and banged again as Ellie came out.

“Should I lock the door?” she asked.


Nah. Get in the truck and we’ll see if we can get yours unstuck.” Anger raced in his veins. She had no business down there at Hart’s Pond, especially since it was the place where they’d first made love.

Inside, he reached behind the seat and found his soft flannel shirt. He tossed it into her lap. “
Put that on before you freeze something off.”


Thank you.” Her voice raised the hairs on his body.

Being enclosed in the truck together was worse than he
’d ever imagined. Her tan thighs tormented him. Too easily he recalled long drives with her feet on the dash. But he’d left her with her ankles hooked over Nathan Rafferty’s shoulders.

Biting off a growl, he fought for control
. It was nothing more than young love—not the kind that lasted forever. Besides, he’d sworn off women, wanting only his ranch, his animals, and peace.

Ellie crowde
d against the passenger door, staring through the windshield silently. They bumped down the gravel drive and circled the bottom field, where the pond was a silver coin in the moonlight.

The Harts had built this pond generations ago, digging it into a heart
shape. Now foliage had grown up around it, and it was a little wonky, with one arch of the heart smaller than the other. Eventually, he planned to chop the brush away and restore it to the way he’d forever remember it.

BOOK: Dallas Nights
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