Rescue Me (14 page)

“But you were always so pretty it didn’t matter,” Deeann said, genuinely trying to make Sadie feel better.

“Thank you, Deeann,” she said, and thought to return the favor. “I parked my car in front of your shop. It looks like you have some real nice stuff. I’ll have to stop by before I leave town.”

“I hope you do. I make my own jewelry, and if you decide to stay in Lovett, and don’t want to live out there at the ranch, let me know. I sell real estate, too.”

Her interest piqued, she said, “I’m an agent in Phoenix. How’s the market around here?”

“I’m not getting rich, but it’s picking up slightly. Brokering a lot of short sales.”

Short sales weren’t what agents bragged about the most. “Me too.” Sadie liked that about Deeann.

“Goodness, are you going to bore us with shop talk?” Pammy asked.

Sadie glanced at her watch and pretended she had somewhere to be. Just because she didn’t care what the sisters said, didn’t mean she wanted to hang out with them. “It sure was great to see y’all.” Lord, had she just said “y’all”? It had taken years to extract that contraction from her vocabulary. She looked at Vince, who lined up another shot. “Good night, Vince.”

He shot the six ball in the side pocket and rose. “See ya around, Sadie,” he said, more interested in his game than in her.

She said good-bye to Lloyd and Cain and headed toward the beer vendor. Overhead, dark blue and orange streaked across the night sky. She ran into JH employees and former employees, and by the time she made it to the vendor, it was full dark and Tom and the Armadillos took the stage at one end of the parking lot. She was tired but didn’t want to go home. She didn’t always mind being alone. She’d been raised on a ranch filled with people, but she’d always been alone. But lately she’d either been in a hospital room alone or listening to her grumpy daddy.

She was Sadie Jo Hollowell. Most people knew her name. Knew she was Clive’s daughter, but they didn’t know her. Her whole life, people either loved or hated her depending on how they felt about her daddy.

She took a drink from her Lone Star bottle and turned, almost running into a massive chest. She instantly recognized those defined muscles and big biceps. He grabbed the top of her arm to keep her from toppling over.

“How many of those have you had?” he asked.

“Not enough.” She looked up past Vince’s square chin and mouth into his eyes staring straight back into hers. “This is my second.” She glanced about. “Where are your friends?”

“What friends?”

“The Young sisters and Deeann.”

“Don’t know.” He slid his hand down her arm and took her beer from her hand. He swallowed a big drink, then gave it back. “Where are yours?”

“Friends?” She took a much smaller drink, then handed it back. “I haven’t seen Winnie since she went to the bathroom a while ago.”

“Not her. The cowboy with the tight Wranglers choking his nuts.”

What? “Oh, Cain. I don’t know. Are you worried about his nuts?”

“More like disturbed.”

She grinned. “Why aren’t you playing pool?” They moved a few feet from beneath the vendor tent.

“I got knocked out of the tournament by a skinny fifteen-year-old wearing a Texas flag shirt.”

She tilted her head back and looked up at him. At the light illuminating half of his face and casting a shadow over the other half. “You’re a big bad SEAL. Aren’t you supposed to kick ass?”

He chuckled, low and masculine and completely secure with himself. “Guess it isn’t my ass-kicking day if I got whooped by a kid with acne.”

“Do you mean that geeky boy with the big hat?”

“That sounds like him.”

“Seriously? You lost to him?”

“Don’t let the pimples fool you. He was a shark.”

“That’s just embarrassing.” She took a drink, then handed Vince the bottle. “He wasn’t much bigger than the pool cue.”

“Usually I’m better with my hands.” His gaze slid to hers and he raised the bottle to his lips. “But you know that.”

Yeah, she knew that. “Hey, Sadie Jo. How’s your daddy?” someone called out to her.

“Good. Thank you,” she hollered back. She put her hands in the pockets of her jacket and moved farther away from the vendor and Tom and the Armadillos’ version of “Free Bird.” The first time she’d met Vince, she’d been under the impression that he wasn’t staying in town long. “Are you still working for your aunt?”

“No. I work for myself.”

He handed her the bottle and she took a sip.

“Luraleen sold me the Gas and Go.”

She choked on the mouthful of beer. Vince hit her back with the heel of his hand as she coughed and gasped and sputtered. “No shit?”

“No shit. Just signed the papers yesterday.” He grabbed the near-empty bottle, drained it, then tossed it in the garbage behind her.

She wiped her nose and mouth with the back of her arm. “Congratulations.” She guessed.

“How are you doing?”

She blinked. “Better. I just had a little beer go down the wrong pipe.”

He placed a hand beneath her chin and raised her face to the light. “I heard about your dad. How are you holding up?”

She looked into the eyes of this man she hardly knew and realized that he was the first person to ask after her. Really ask after her. “I’m doing good.” Her gaze slid to his chin, and her stomach kind of felt weird. Maybe it was chugging that beer.

He tilted her face a bit more. “You look tired.”

“Last time I saw you, you said I looked like shit.”

He smiled with one corner of his mouth. “I might have been a little annoyed with you.”

Her gaze returned to his. “And you’re not now?”

“Not as much.” His thumb brushed her cheek. “Take off the hat, Sadie.”

Her hair appointment wasn’t scheduled for several more days and the hat nicely covered her darker roots. “I have bad roots.”

“Me too. You met Luraleen.”

Sadie laughed. “I’m talking about my hair.”

“I know. Take it off.”

“Why?”

“I want to see your eyes.” He took the hat from her head and handed it to her. “That’s been irritating me all night. I don’t want to talk to your chin.”

For the most part, he acted like he didn’t even like her, and she wondered why he was talking to her at all. “I’m sure Deeann and the Young girls aren’t so irritating.”

“Those women are looking for a boyfriend.”

“You’re not interested?”

He looked out at the crowd near the stage. “I’m not really a relationship guy.”

Surprising. Most guys didn’t cop to that until after they got a girl into bed a few times. “What kind of guy are you?” And if they did admit it up front, they gave the BS answer about having a lot going on in their lives or some horrid bitch had hurt them in the past and so they couldn’t commit.

He shrugged his big shoulders. “The kind who gets bored. The kind who doesn’t want to pretend I’m in it for anything but sex.”

“That’s honest, I guess.” She gave a startled laugh. “Do you have commitment issues?”

“No.”

“How many relationships have you been in?”

“Enough to know I’m not good at them.”

She supposed she should ask why, but it really wasn’t her business. Just like her past relationships weren’t his business. “You want just sex. No dinner? No movie? No conversation?”

“I like conversation . . . during sex.”

She looked up into his face, the strong angles of his jaw and cheeks. His dark skin and darker hair and those light green eyes. If he wasn’t so massively male, he might almost be confused for pretty. He looked like just what she needed to pass the time while she was in town. Much better than junk television and videos. She figured she had a month, perhaps two, to kill before her daddy was well enough for her to leave. Not nearly enough time for her to form any sort of feelings. She looked at her watch. It was a little after ten and the thought of going home alone was like a lead ball in her chest. “What are you doing for the next few hours?”

He looked at her. “What do you have in mind?”

She was an adult. She hadn’t had good sex in a really long time. She knew from experience he could get the job done. He was a sure thing. “Poor decisions we’ll probably regret later. Interested?”

“Depends.”

The lead ball fell to her stomach. “On?” Was he going to turn her down?

“Two things.” He held up one finger. “If you can handle no strings.” A second finger joined the first. “You don’t leave me alone again with nothing but a hard-on like you did at your cousin’s wedding.”

Relief brought a smile to her lips. While they were making rules, she added a few of her own just to make it all square. Lord knew how he liked things squared up. “I can handle no strings. Just make sure you can.” She thought of her last relationship. Just because a guy seemed like a sure thing didn’t mean he could always go the distance. “If I get undressed, you better make it worth my time.”

“Honey, I think it’s pretty safe to say that I can make it worth your time even when you
are
dressed. Just make sure you make it worth
my
time.”

Chapter Ten

V
ince raised his hand to knock on the big oak doors just as one side swung open. The light from behind lit up Sadie’s golden hair, and he could finally see her face. Either that stupid hat or the evening shadows had hidden her eyes from him all night. And he liked her eyes, along with other parts of her body.

“I thought you might have gotten lost.” She was kind of breathy, like she’d been running. She’d lost her jacket and boots and wore a tight T-shirt that matched the blue of those eyes he liked.

“I don’t get lost.” He’d stopped at the Gas and Go long enough to grab a box of condoms and lock up behind himself. He stepped into the large entry and looked around. He got a quick impression of cowhides and antlers and old money. “Anyone else here?” He knew her father was in the hospital, but that didn’t mean the house was empty.

“It’s just me.”

“Big house for one girl.”

“Yeah.” She pushed him against the closed door and he let her. “I believe I owe you something.” She slid her hands up his chest, and his scrotum drew up his testicles like a satin purse. “When we were in the bride’s room at my cousin’s wedding, I ran out and didn’t say thank you.” She pressed into him and kissed the side of his neck. “I was raised with better manners.” She pulled at the bottom of his shirt. “You smell good. Thank you.”

He didn’t know if she was thanking him for not stinking or the orgasm. With her hands tugging at his shirt, it didn’t matter. “My pleasure.”

“In charm school I was taught to always make people feel welcome. It was pretty much a number one rule.” Her fingers lightly raked his stomach and chest as she pushed the shirt up. “Do you feel welcome, Vince?”

He sucked in a breath. A lot of women had undressed him in his lifetime. He’d had no problem finding women who wanted to get naked and touch him, but her hands were more of a tease. He liked it. “Yeah. I might feel more welcome if you did that Texas bow. Naked. Over my crotch.”

She laughed against the right side of his throat, and the heat of her soft breath spread down his chest. “Is that what you were thinking when Deeann was showing off her Texas dip?” She tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it behind her on the floor.

“Not about her. You.”

She took a step back and sucked in a breath. Her gaze lingered on his chest and abdomen and lust pooled in the back of his throat. “Good God. You look airbrushed.” She put her warm palm on his warm belly and it was his turn to suck in a breath. “Like someone photo-shopped all the good stuff and put you on a birthday card.”

He placed his hands on the sides of her head and brought her face close to his. “You haven’t seen the good stuff yet.”

“I want your good stuff, Vince.”

He opened his mouth over hers and kissed her. “I want your good stuff,” he added, then kissed her more. Hot, open-mouth kisses that raised his blood pressure and heated his skin. Wet, thrusting kisses that made him hard and aching with need. Long, deep kisses that made him hungry for a lot more. She tasted good. Like long, deep, hot, wet sex. She ran her fingers across his pecs and her palms over his bare stomach. Then she grabbed his waistband and brushed her thumbs across his lower belly. Touching here. Brushing there. Light touches driving him crazy and turning him hard as stone.

She pulled back and looked up at him, her eyes bright blue and drugged at the same time. “You’re beautiful, Vince. I want to eat you up.” She kissed the hollow of his throat. “One juicy bite at a time.”

And he wanted to return the favor. One bite at a time in all her juicy spots. If her hands weren’t diving down his pants, he might have told her, but he was having a difficult time breathing. He reached for the bottom of her T-shirt, but she grabbed his wrists and pressed his palms against the door. “Grab wood, Vince. And I don’t mean yours.”

His laughter came out kind of choked. “What’re you planning?” He wasn’t much into bondage.

“Watch. You’ll see.”

And he did. He watched her undo his pants and slide them down his thighs. He’d worn a pair of gray boxer briefs and she pressed her hand against him. Against the soft cotton and the hard edge of his erection. She ran her hot mouth all over him. His shoulder and chest. Then she knelt before him and licked his belly. He groaned deep in his throat and fought the urge to tangle his fingers in her hair. To push her face deeper.

Her teasing fingers brushed his skin as she shoved down his underwear and he sprang free. The hot tip of his erect penis brushed her cheek. “Nice, Vince.”

“You’re not disappointed?” he asked, even though he knew the answer. He was no porn star but he had more than enough to get the job done.

“Not yet.” She took him in her hand and looked up at him. “When I’m through, you’re gonna owe me.”

“Forty cents?” She stroked him in her soft hand and if he’d let himself, he could have come right then. But he had more control than that.

“At least a buck forty.” She kissed the head of his dick, then licked him like a Popsicle. Just when he thought he couldn’t stand the torture of her slick tongue, she opened her hot, wet mouth and took him inside. She sucked him deep and slid her hand up his shaft. He locked his knees and his head fell back against the door.
God, don’t let her stop
, he thought as his fingers dug into the door to keep from grabbing her hair.
Don’t let her stop even to talk
. He didn’t mind dirty talk. Most of the time he liked it, but nothing ruined a BJ like conversation.