Dusty Britches (51 page)

“
There,
”
she sighed as she finished tying the bandage.
“
All done.
”

She smiled down at him, expecting him to stand up and leave. Instead, he reached out, taking hold of her forearm with both his strong, roughened hands. Turning her palm up, he kissed her wrist softly, trailing his thumb along the vein
showing
itself beneath her smooth skin. Pulling her closer to him so her knees were now pressed firmly against his thigh, he kissed the bend in her arm.

“
What…what are you doin
’
?
”
Dusty breathed, trying to pull her arm free of his control.

Instantly and unexpectedly, Ryder was on his feet, defensive and determined.
“
Now…I
’
ve kept my hands offa you for a long while,
”
he stated.
He spoke as if reminding her—a
s if she were able or even wanted to forget the bliss of being in his arms and the moist power of his kiss.

“As—
as well you should,
”
she stammered.

“
Why?
”
His eyebrows puckered into a sincere frown.

“Because…
because it
’
s not proper for you to,
”
she told him.

“
Proper? I used to ride you around on my back half the darn time when you was fourteen
,
and that wasn
’
t proper! But it never seemed to bother you then!
”
She didn
’
t understand his sudden agitation.
“
Your mama got all over me for that…but…
”

“
I don
’
t understand this, Ryder,
”
Dusty finally said as he let go of her arm.

“
Do you know why I came back here?
”
he interrupted.

“
Because you like it here,
”
she snapped, quoting the reason he
’
d given her that blissful night under the waterfall.

“
I came back here to kiss you!
”

“
Yeah. You told me that before too, and
—”

“
I meant it. I came back here,
”
Ryder lowered his voice to nearly a whisper as he leaned toward her, his eyes narrowed, his mouth tight with frustration,
“
I came back here to kiss you, Dusty. To get a good, long
,
tasty drink of your mouth and satisfy the desire I couldn
’
t satisfy five years ago. I came back here to do that, sugar. And if you think I
’
m gonna stand around while you go on a
-
teasin
’
me night and day
—”

“
Teasin
’
you?
”
Dusty exclaimed in her own defense.

“
Teasin
’
me!
”
he nearly shouted in a whisper.
“
Just like y
a
always done right before I left. I don
’
t even think y
a
always knew you were a
-
doin
’
it…but sometimes y
a
did. And sometimes y
a
do. I know you too awful well.
”

She ignored his preaching about her teasing him. She had a more important question.
“
If that
’
s why you came back then…then why didn
’
t you just do it when you first got here? Why did y
a—”

“
You were so stuffed up in your own misery…you wouldn
’
t even look me in the eye when I first came back! I can just imagine what y
a would
a done to me if I had thrown you on the ground and had my way with you right then and there!
”
He was nearly shouting now
,
and Dusty suddenly remembered Becca had gone into the house earlier to rest.

“
Sshhh!
”
she hushed him.
“
You
’
ll wake Becca.
”

“
I don
’
t care if I wake Becca! I don
’
t care if the whole world hears me
’
cause you and me, we
’
re gonna have it out right now!
”
With that
,
he swooped her up in his arms and
headed for the door. “I’m sick
a this cat
-
and
-
mouse bull
sh—manure
!
”

“
Your arm!
”
she exclaimed, not wanting to struggle for fear of hurting him.

“
Dang the arm, Dusty! You better get to worryin
’
about your own safety!
”
he growled as he lumbered out onto the porch and down the stairs. All she could do was put her arms around his neck and listen to him mumbling under his breath as he walked toward the barn.
“
Swishin
’
your little fanny around like nobody
’
s business! Smilin
’
all sweet and sugary! Runnin
’
your hand over my arm like
that
.
”
He paused in his grumbling and looked to her as he stood still for a moment.
“
Grass or straw?
”
he asked.

“What?” she breathed. “What’
re y
a
doin
’
? And what in tarnation are y
a
talkin
’
about?
”
He was mad! She was certain he
’
d lost his mind.

“
Grass or straw? Where do you prefer I do this? Grass or straw?
”
he repeated.

“D-
do what?
”
she stammered. The excitement that had begun to burn in her chest now spread throughout all her limbs. He meant to…

“
Fine. Grass. It don
’
t
itch!” he answered for her, turning
on his heels
and heading
toward the creek bank.

Thick
clouds had gathered overhead, ushering in the beginnings of the storm. There was an ominous excitement in the air. As Ryder reached the grassy bank of the creek, Dusty c
ouldn’t understand how they’
d gone from dressing his wounds to arguing over his assaulting her. He rather roughly set her down on the ground and stood, muscles tensed and jaw clenched, staring down at her.

“
Ryder,
”
she began.

“
Hush your mouth, girl!
”
he ordered.

She watched every muscle in his torso flex as he clenched and unclenched his fists. She was quiet for a moment until she noticed the blood seeping through the bandage on his arm again.

Leaping to her feet, she reached out and took hold of his arm.
“
You
’
re gonna tear those stitches out if you don
’
t…
”
B
ut her words were lost as she felt his hand caress her cheek.

“
You
’
re never gonna forgive me for breakin
’
your heart back then, are y
a
?
”
he asked her. His face was no longer angry, his shoulders slumped with defeat.

“
I have nothin
’
to forgive y
a
for
,”
she whispered as his thumb traveled over her lips. Then a courage she thought she
’
d lost forever surfaced in her soul for a brief moment.
“
You know, don
’
t you?
”
He frowned and looked at her uncertainly.
“
You…you know that…just now for a second…for an instant I wanted…I wanted you to…
”

“
And y
a
don
’
t want me to now?
”
he asked. She was astonished by the intonation of hurt in his voice. Or did she imagine it
?
“
Now, you don
’
t want me to
—”

She put her fingers to his lips to silence him
—a
fraid of what he might speak.
“
What did y
a
plan to do?
”
she asked him.

“
Kiss you,
”
he mumbled.
“
Just kiss y
a
, sugar. That
’
s all. You know that.
”

“
No
,
I mean…
”
S
he paused.
Yet
it was something
that had been
eating at her very soul ever since he
’
d spoken of it at the picnic in July. She
’
d forced it to the back of her mind, not wanting to endure the visions
it evoked—n
ot wanting to be conscious of it.
“
You told me that…there we
re other women these past years…other women
you…
”
She interrupted herself in an effort to control the wave of jealousy, hurt
,
and anger washing over her.

“
And I told you that I never kissed them the way I
—”

“
You never hauled them out of the kitchen and down to the creek bank?
”
she asked. Ryder smiled sympathetically and shook his head, no.
“
Promise?
”

“
I never hauled nobody down to the creek bank…especially with the intentions I had today,
”
he answered.
“
You ever touch Cash Richardson
’
s bare naked stomach?
”
he asked, and she immediately drew her hands away from his waist where she
’d been slightly caressing him—
unconsciously.

He chuckled as she shook her head and placed her hands on her crimson cheeks. She took a step back from him, but he took hold of her wr
ists and held them at her back—
pulling her body flush with his own.

“
Did you? Did you ever touch him like you do me?
”
Dusty could only shake her head,
mesmerized by the intensity of his gaze
.
“
Don
’
t you ev
er be afraid to touch me, Dusty.”

He paused and placed a long, heated kiss on her neck. Releasing
her wrist he’d
been holding behind her, he put his hand at the small of her back, running it up her spine. Even through her corset she could feel the power and warmth of it there. He
’
d done it again. As her body melted helplessly against his, she realized that once again he
’
d van
quished her will to resist him—
broken the lock on the door
keeping
her safe from heartbreak.

“
I
’
m gonna have my way with you yet,
”
he chuckled in her ear.

Dusty locked the first two fingers of each hand into the belt loops at either side of his hips as his hands held her face, drawing her mouth to his own. His kiss was so familiar, so perfect.
Please
, she thought to herself.
Please, Dusty…don
’
t be afraid to touch him
.