Texas Tangle (6 page)

No. But she would be. Especially with friends like him and Brett supporting her. “I’m fine.”

His eyes searched her face. “They give you grief because I called the cops on Phil?”

She shook her head.

He hmmed, his tone telling her he didn’t believe her, but thankfully he didn’t call her on it. “You still up for breakfast?”

Once she’d nodded, he led her back to the kitchen and seated her on the bench at the table.

Brett sat on the chair opposite her. “You all right?”

“Fine.” It was starting to become her mantra. Maybe if she said it enough, she’d start to believe it.

His examination of her was just as thorough as Dillon’s. “Why don’t you let me handle calling them from here on in? I can do it in an official capacity.”

“Thanks, but they’re my parents. I can deal with them.”

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should have to,” Dillon noted. “Not if they’re going to give you grief because of me.”

He plated the food and placed it in front of her, his other hand brushing the tops of hers. He set up two more plates and set them down, one beside her and one in front of Brett. “Dig in, buddy.”

The whole time they were eating, Dillon found ways to touch her. He slid beside her on the bench, close enough that his thigh touched hers. Their hands grazed again when they both reached for the salt shaker at the same time. When he refilled her coffee, she couldn’t help notice how he’d drawn out releasing the mug, dragging his fingers over hers. When he returned to sit beside her, his bare foot slid over her arch. When he reached for the steak sauce, his other hand splayed over the small of her back, creeping under the fabric.

By the time she’d finished her food, every inch of her body was aware of him. Aware of the damp tendrils of dark hair tucked behind the curve of his ear betraying that he’d found someplace else to shower, and the clean scent of his soap. Especially aware of the rough calluses of his hands as they rasped over her skin. She couldn’t help but imagine the bulging strength of his forearms holding him over her. His thick thigh muscles flexing between her legs as she wrapped herself around him, pulling him deep into her.

The fantasy shattered when Brett stood. If his expression had been sympathetic when she’d come out of Dillon’s office, now he looked more relaxed. Except that while his lips smiled, the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Maybe it was a mask he’d learned to wear for his job, a way to conceal his emotions. But what would he need to conceal from her?

“I’m gonna go check in, see if they’ve got any leads on Phil yet.” The sarcastic way he said her brother’s name had her breathing a sigh of relief. He was pissed off at Phil, not her. “You two have fun.”

He carried his plate to the dishwasher, then headed down the front hall without looking back.

Nikki rubbed her hands on her thighs. “I should see if I can catch Brett and get a lift into town.” She needed to buy a new mattress for a start. She couldn’t keep relying on other people’s charity, even Dillon’s. “I need to start replacing everything I lost. And I should talk to Ernie, see how much it’s going to cost to fix my truck.”

Instead of moving out of her way as she’d expected, Dillon stayed in place. “There’s no hurry for you to do that. The cops might get some of your stuff back, and then you’ll have wasted your money. As for your truck, Ernie’ll phone you with an estimate soon enough.”

“Okay, I guess. But you let me know if I get underfoot or anything, all right?”

“It’s not under my foot where I want you.” He cupped his fingers under her chin and lifted her face so she would look at him. Before she realized it, he was kissing her again. It didn’t start out with the heat she’d remembered from the night before; this one was soft, gentle. An exploration. But soon it strengthened as he took charge of the kiss, his tongue plundering her mouth.

By the time they broke off, they were both breathing heavily.

“You didn’t have to stop.” The huskiness in her voice surprised her. Fighting the fear skittering beneath her skin, she lifted his hand and placed it on her breast.

Even as his thumb stroked her nipple through the thin fabric of her tee, Dillon’s eyes searched hers. “I don’t want to push you. If you want to date for a while, I’m fine with that.”

Date? It was the reasonable thing to do. The proper thing. What society would expect. But they were both adults and damn it, who knew if she’d have another chance?

“Why don’t we just say all those times we worked on the fences or went riding together were dates? Besides, we both know what we were talking about when I invited you into my place last night.” She stroked a finger up his jaw and around the shell of his ear. When his breath hitched, she knew she’d won her point.

He tugged her closer, resuming their kiss. His hand slipped beneath her tee and cupped her breast; she was surprised to hear a moan filling the kitchen and realized it was her own.

It had been years since anyone—Wade—had touched her there. She shifted, pressing herself into his palm. Her breasts grew heavier as he played with her nipples. It was as if there was a direct connection between her breasts and her core, her pussy aching for attention, to be filled.

She slid one hand around his waist. The table thwarted her attempts to straddle him. Dillon shifted on the bench, pulling his hand back.

“Shit!” He broke off the kiss and clutched the elbow he’d just rammed into the edge of the table. “Goddamn, there’s not enough room here.”

With an impatient movement, he used his foot to push the table away. She squeaked when he lifted her to straddle his lap, and then stood. His growl and strengthened grip on her were his answer as he strode down the hall.

Wade had never carried her once in all the time they’d dated; not that she was too heavy, but he’d always been more of a wham-bam type of guy. Oh, she’d been thrilled the first time they’d made love. He’d made her feel so feminine. Pretty, even. He’d changed his stripes once they’d gotten married though, blaming her for everything that went wrong in his life. Like she was responsible for the plant closing and him getting laid off. Then again she had lost his baby. Not that he’d wanted it in the first place.

“Nik? Where’d you go?”

Dillon’s quiet question roused her from her memories and made her aware he’d stopped walking. She lifted her head from where she’d buried it against his neck and realized they were now in the middle of his bedroom.

Was she nuts?
She was thinking about Wade when she had Dillon right here?

He relaxed his hold on her, letting her feet slide to the floor. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want. I can wait.”

God, how many other guys would walk away without calling her a cock tease? Which made her decision to continue that much easier. She put her hands on either side of his head and tugged him down to her. “I want this. I want it a lot.”

She kissed him, her lips pressing hard against his, her tongue pushing into his mouth, tasting the coffee he’d just finished. Oh, she wanted it all right. She wanted it all.

For one second, maybe two, Dillon was still. She’d shocked him perhaps. Then he wrapped his hands in a length of her hair and took control of the kiss. They were both panting by the time they broke off. He grabbed the bottom of her tee and lifted it over her head in one swift movement. Her sweats pooled around her ankles seconds later.

She didn’t waste any time pulling his clothes from him either. Dillon’s work on the job hauling dirt and equipment had hardened and defined his muscles.

Dark hair covered his chest, thinning at his belly button to arrow down to his groin. As if she needed a roadmap to the bulge in his pants, thank you very much. She played with his nipples that puckered into hard little buds, then moved south and dragged his jeans from his hips. His cock sprang free, the head bulbous and heavy, a thick nest of black hair at its base. Before she could wrap her hand around his shaft, he backed her up until her legs hit the mattress. She lay back, allowing her legs to splay open on either side of his thighs.

His gaze trailed down her breasts, then stopped on her groin. “Oh, baby, your pretty pussy is glistening. You’re ready for me, aren’t you?”

Dillon slid one finger between her labia, then lifted it to his own mouth and sucked it deep into his mouth. Damned if she didn’t taste as sweet as she smelled. She stared up at him, her pupils full and dark, her lips swollen from kissing him. Down in the kitchen, he’d been tempted to sweep the dishes off the table and take her right there, but he hadn’t wanted to do that for their first time. That would be a fantasy he’d fulfill later. And oh, man, what a fantasy she’d become.

He dipped his head and caught her lips beneath his again, grinding his erection into her belly. Her hips wriggled against him, and she repeated the deep moan she’d made earlier that rumbled all the way through his chest and down to his dick.

She showed no hint of modesty, not trying to cover herself. In fact, her own gaze raked his length, devouring him.

His cock hardened more if it was possible. Her breasts were fuller than they had been last night, heavy in their arousal. Her hips curved the way he liked—he never did care for the feel of hip bones jutting into him like rocks.

He straddled her and played with her breasts, molding them with his palms. Indulging himself, he bent over, taking a nipple into his mouth. As he did, his cock rubbed along the silken skin of her belly. Damn. If he didn’t get control of himself, he was going to come all over her like a randy teenager.

Resting most of his weight on one elbow, he covered her body with his. Her breasts felt so fantastic mashed against his chest, her body cradling his cock like God had designed her just for him. When she tilted her head seeking his lips, he felt like he’d conquered the world.

Her hands moved over his chest, then slid to his back, cupping his ass, her hips grinding against him. The need she’d aroused when he’d woken up to find her playing with his dick reared its head and demanded he take action. Now.

His dick slid through her folds. He couldn’t wait to go down on her, taste her pussy again. But for now he needed to bury himself deep in her.

She whimpered, her body quivering beneath his as he rubbed the length of his shaft over her clit. “Condom?”

Shit, how had he forgotten protection? Murmuring for her to wait, he rolled off her and reached for the night table for a condom. She’d pushed herself up on her elbows, watching him tear open the package and roll the condom over his dick.

Realizing the moment was lost, he decided to indulge his earlier fantasy. He positioned her so her pussy was at the edge of the bed, then knelt between her thighs. Watching her face, he lowered his mouth to her folds, parting them with his tongue. Her essence burst over his tongue like a ripe peach, everything he’d imagined for the past year. He circled her clit, lapping on either side of it. Her eyes fluttered closed, her breathing hitching with each stroke he took.

When he captured the swollen bud with his mouth, her head fell back, exposing her long neck. Such a pity he couldn’t be up there as well, kissing its length, playing with her breasts at the same time.

He inserted two fingers into her pussy as he lashed her clit with his tongue. Her thighs trembled and clamped around his head as her body sucked his fingers deeper, her muscles milking them. He slipped a third finger beside the other two and stretched her tissues as he lightly bit at her quivering flesh. He drove her up to the edge, making her whimper as she begged for him to let her come. Easing off, he let her simmer for a while.

He filled his lungs with the lingering scent of his soap on her skin, combined with the musky smell of her arousal. He’d never be able to use that soap again without thinking of her spread out in front of him like this.

She made a breathy purr, reminding him once more of a cat, and her body heated beneath him. “You like me eating you, don’t you?”

Her inner muscles squeezed his fingers. So she liked him talking dirty, did she? “I love how slick you get for me, how your cunt gets all slippery. Once I’m done eating you, I’m going to fuck you hard and fast.” Her fingers dug into the bedding as she writhed beneath his mouth. “You’re so fucking tight. I can’t wait to get my dick inside you.”

His cock and balls aching, he tipped her over the precipice.

She cried out as her orgasm overtook her, her body arching up off the bed, her hips bucking against him.
Shit, she is beautiful.
He lapped at the juices that coated his fingers and dripped from her pussy in a slippery rush. Before her muscles stopped rippling, he withdrew his fingers and placed the head of his cock at her entrance.

Stabbing his arms into the mattress on either side of her body, he thrust into her, grunting as she squeezed and convulsed around him. A flame from within the sweetest body, the tightest pussy ever to singe him. Holding still, he stared at her face, at her unfocused eyes, her hair loosened from its braid, floating in wild streams over the sheet. If he never made love to her again, he’d remember her like this for the rest of his life.

Unable to hold off any longer, he pulled back then drove into her again. Her hands clutched the bedding, and with each stroke he pounded her further up the bed. Her body pulsed around him, her muscles gripping him tight against each withdrawal. Needing to give her the same pleasure he felt, he surged back in. She groaned, not in pain, but passion, her body shaking as her orgasm built again.

He slipped a hand between them. Finding her sensitive bud, he flicked it as he surged into her. She lifted her hips, wrapping her legs around his waist so his cock could stab even deeper into her body. Muscles, honed from years of riding, tightened around him. His cock felt like it was in heaven.

If he could have dragged in enough breath to speak, he would have whispered some pretty words he knew women liked to hear. Nik deserved more than the dirty words he’d given her. She deserved much more. And he was just the man to give her whatever she desired.

He pistoned his hips, unable to prevent himself from shouting as fire speared from the base of his spine, through his balls, and out of his cock. His shout changed to a roar as his balls emptied into the sweet tissues convulsing around him.