The Way to Texas (12 page)

They entered the lobby and were immediately sucked back into the mid-1800s. Old-fashioned wallpaper, deep red drapes and an antique walnut desk met them. A display of the house's history sat to the left for further exploration as was a glimpse of a parlor dressed in blue and gold.

Tyson headed toward the man at the check-in desk.

“I have a reservation for Tyson Hart. The Grant Room and the Lady Bird Johnson room, I believe.”

The man welcomed them to Excelsior House Hotel then typed into the computer. “Okay, that's the historic Grant Room with two double beds and the Lady Bird Johnson room with a king.” He looked at them. “You sure you want both rooms? For only the two of you?”

Tyson nodded just as Dawn said, “I'll pay for mine.”

If they weren't going to have sex, it
had
to be separate rooms. No way he could stay in the same room with her and not press her to take their relationship to the next level. He wanted her too much, wanted to get lost in her until the first fingers of her namesake crept over the windowsill. But only when she was ready.

“Well, I had a cancellation for the Jay Gould room. It has lovely antique walnut furniture imported from Russia plus a nice claw-foot tub. Good for a long soak after a day of walking around Jefferson or—” he eyed them “—whatever else might exhaust you.” A devilish smile curled in his goatee.

Dawn gave a nervous laugh. “That sounds nice, but I think we better keep the ones we booked.”

The clerk nodded and tapped away at his computer.

Dawn still refused to meet Tyson's eyes and he
wondered what she was thinking. Was she already regretting her decision to take this trip with him?

The clerk handed him their individual key cards. “I went ahead and gave you the Jay Gould, Mr. Hart. It has a king-size bed you might find more comfortable. Enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you,” he said, stepping from the desk and regarding a small table of brochures. He picked out a few showcasing local restaurants and turned to Dawn.

“What would you like to do first? Eat?”

Dawn fiddled with the strap on her bag. “Whatever you want. I didn't even bring my planner.”

He feigned clasping his heart and staggering backward, drawing a laugh from her.

“Well, let's drop off our bags then we can decide.”

The bloodred carpet lined the stairs and led to a corridor lined with several doors. It didn't take him long to find his room, insert the key into the lock and swing the door open.

Dawn passed him as he stepped inside the spacious room. He stuck his head out as she disappeared inside the room not far from his.

“Hey,” he called.

She peeked back out at him. “Yeah.”

“Ten minutes good?”

She nodded. “I'll be ready.”

D
AWN STARED AT THE
lovely room before her. Warm as its namesake, it displayed Southern charm and graciousness.

But she didn't want to be there.

She wanted to be in the Jay Gould room testing out that king-size bed. So what was holding her back?

Andrew's adultlike lecture? The fact Tyson wasn't legally free? Her own past mistakes with the wrong guy?

Maybe it was all of them.

She caught her reflection in the mirror.
Chicken.

Before she could think much more about all the reasons why she shouldn't, she scooped up her overnight bag and backed out of the room.

Ten long strides later, she knocked at Tyson's door.

Tyson swung the door open, while flicking the light off. “Hey, that didn't take—”

Her mouth covered his, cutting him off. She twined her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself to him. The man wasn't stupid. He wrapped his arms around her, deepening the kiss, and pulled her into the room.

The door clicked shut.

Dawn broke the kiss, pulling back. The room was dark and she couldn't read his expression. “Let's try out that king-size bed.”

She felt his body's response. His arms tightened, his breath quickened. He bent his head to hers.

“Are you certain?” he whispered against her lips.

Dawn knew there wasn't much that
was
certain in her life. She didn't know where she'd live next year, what job she'd be doing or if taking the next step with Tyson was a good idea. All she knew was she was tired of thinking, planning and reasoning her way through life.

And she knew she was certain about one thing: she wanted Tyson.

Her answer was to press her lips to his, more firmly than before. Her hands wound around his neck, fingering the hair that brushed his collar. He needed a haircut, but she wouldn't complain. She was totally digging the rough-around-the-edges, bad-boy vibe he was putting out. She was also digging the way the man kissed.

One of his hands slid beneath her ponytail and cupped the nape of her neck, maneuvering her head into the right position for deepening the kiss. His tongue traced the edge of her lower lip before plunging into her mouth. No, this man didn't dally when it came to kissing. The man was eating her up.

Amen.

Desire surged through her veins, cavorting through her body, causing her softest parts to throb with need. Oh, my, it felt good. So, so very good.

She felt a tug at the base of her neck and her hair slipped from its clip and tumbled down her back. Tyson's response was to bury both hands in the mass of waves, pulling her even harder against his body. His mouth still wreaked havoc on hers, causing a groan to escape her lips.

She surprised herself with how fast she'd revved up. Well, it
had
been a while.

Tyson leaned back to smile at her. She stared, trying to control her breathing, trying to settle her riotous pulse into some pattern of normality. “I want to take your clothes off with my teeth, but only if you want this. No tears or angry words hurled my way after we do this. No regrets, okay?”

She opened her mouth, but he silenced it with his finger. “Once we go there—” he jerked his thumb toward the four-poster bed sitting prominently in the center of the room “—we aren't going back.”

“Who said I want to?” she said, taking his finger from her lips and pressing his hand to her chest. “We've been dancing round this since we met. So, are you going to stand here and talk me out of this or are you going to get busy with those teeth?”

A predatory grin flashed across his face before he muttered in her ear, “You asked for this.”

Dawn would have squealed had she been the type, but all she could do was laugh as he tossed her over one shoulder and strode to the bed.

“Animal,” she declared as she landed on the overstuffed mattress. She hadn't landed gracefully, either. Kinda all sprawled out and awkward.

“You have no idea.” He tugged his shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor. She could see his teeth flash in the afternoon light sneaking past the ornate drapes. It made her all shivery inside.

She pulled the clip hanging drunkenly from one of her tresses and tossed it toward the bedside table. It missed the mark and clattered to the floor. Then she slid her leather moccasins from her feet allowing them to fall with a thump. She glanced at Tyson as she pulled
the socks from her feet, as well. He was working on his belt. The man didn't play around when it came to getting busy. The observation had her body thrumming like a car engine.

She reached for the bottom of her sweater as he dropped his jeans. He was magnificent. Hefting lumber and jackhammering concrete all day had left him heavily muscled in all the right places. His broad chest was sprinkled with golden hair. He wore plaid boxer shorts that strained with his arousal. His thighs and calves were just as muscled. She wished he would turn around so she could check out his backside. Nothing better than the back of a naked man whose physique looked like Tyson's.

Her hands forgot she was supposed to be undressing. She just drank him in.

“Hey, leave that to me,” he said, climbing onto the bed, hovering above her on hands and knees. She dropped back, allowing her head to fall onto a needle-point pillow. Her hair fanned around her and though she was almost fully dressed, she could feel the heat from his body.

“What?” She breathed in his smell, remembering the day she'd first met him. She'd been struck first by his warmth. And that's what she recalled as she lay beneath him. He smelled like autumn, as though she could burrow inside him and absorb his strength.

“I want to take off your clothes,” he said, bending his head and placing tiny kisses upon the pulse fluttering so wildly in her neck. His hot breath fanned her throat and for a moment, she felt like a wild creature beneath the paw of the hungry lion. She was helpless.

And that loss of control excited her.

His hand slid across her stomach, searing her through
the merino sweater. His fingers slipped beneath, skimming her bare flesh. She sucked in her breath. Then released it slowly. He caught it with his mouth.

Tyson allowed his mouth to slip from hers to nibble her lower lip. She tasted so good, like honey and wild-flowers, like something so fresh and new. He had no time for poetics. Earthly pursuits awaited them.

He allowed his hand to tease her stomach, enjoying the way her flesh retracted at his touch. He tugged her sweater upward, allowing his hand to glide over the bared skin beneath her breast. Just the slightest of touches, brushing the underwire of her bra. Then he hooked one finger beneath the silken barrier and allowed her breast to pop free. With the weight of her breast in one hand, he could tease no more.

He slipped his other hand beneath her, pulling her to him, fitting her body against his. He was hard, pulsing for her softness. He wanted to go slowly and savor making love to Dawn. But, now, he wasn't sure it was an option. It had been a long time since he'd indulged in such hedonistic pleasures of a woman's body.

He gathered her to him, sliding his hand onto her bottom, tugging her against his arousal. She hooked her leg over his hip, pulling him even closer, rubbing herself against him, causing him to groan.

She pushed his hand from where it lingered on her breast and tugged off her sweater. His hands found the button to her jeans and he had them halfway down her thighs by the time she'd divested herself of her bra. She kicked the denim from her legs and lay before him clad in the tiniest of bikini panties, edged in lace and tied on either side with satin ribbons.

His very own present.

And with that thought, he knew he must relish in the unwrapping of the gift.

So first, he made love to her body with his eyes. He took in her beauty. From her deep brown eyes dilated with desire, to her luscious mouth, silken shoulders, heavy breasts, firm stomach, flared hips and finally lean legs. All for him.

He nuzzled her neck. “You are perfection.”

She snorted.

His lips found her earlobe. “But you are. Let me convince you.”

His hand traveled across from shoulder blade to shoulder blade. “Here you are delicate. Very feminine. So smooth and soft.”

Her eyes found his and she watched his face as his hand moved on her body.

He slid his hand to her breasts. They were large and still very firm, topped with two dusky nipples, like cherries atop a delicious bowl of cream. “But here, here you are exquisite.”

One finger flicked her nipple, eliciting a sigh from her.

He moved quickly, closing his mouth around the pebbled peak. Dawn moaned and lurched upward, clasping his head to her, urging him to continue. He loved her responsiveness. And though he thought it impossible, he felt himself grow even harder at her sweet little moans.

He lifted his head. “But your stomach, it's the sweetest gateway I've seen yet.” His hand glided across her quivering stomach. Her gently rounded belly felt so soft. He drew circles around her navel, enjoying the way her muscles trembled.

“Stop,” she protested with a giggle. He glanced at
her face, meeting her eyes. Damn, but he was having a fine time.

He ripped his eyes from hers and looked at her decadent panties. “What's this? A gift?”

He fingered the two bows anchoring either side of her hips. “I hate to skip right over those two fine legs you have and those delicious feet, but I could never resist such a nicely packaged present.”

He shot her a look he hoped conveyed his wicked intent. “It would be rude for me to ignore such a gift. Right?”

She nodded.

“Well, then, shall I open it?” He slid one finger across the top of the panties. “Or should I just take a peek?”

He lifted the edge and leaned close to her stomach. He allowed his breath to fan her belly, allowed his cheek to glance her flesh. She responded by groaning and lifting her hips from the bed.

“Tyson,” she begged, twisting her hips.

“Yes?” he asked, allowing his lips to kiss a path across the skin above the lace band. He could feel her heat, could feel her slipping beyond control. It made him heady with power.

“Please, take them off,” she said, her own hands slipping down to help him out.

“No, no. This is my present, angel,” he said, stilling her hands and placing them at her sides.

He delivered a wink. Then he used his teeth to untie one little satin bow. “That wasn't too hard,” he breathed against her flesh. “Now for the other one.”

He did the same to the other bow, allowing the ties to fall onto the coverlet of the bed. Slowly he nipped the satin with his teeth and pulled the panties away from her body. He released them from his mouth.

“I can't believe you actually used your teeth,” she said, propping herself upon both elbows. Her breath had grown even more labored and there was a spark of admiration in her eyes.

“I'm a man of many talents,” he said, allowing his hand to brush against the heart of her, feathering through the neat line of dark hair outlining the very part he'd dreamed about. “And I'm really liking my present, angel.”

Suddenly her hands were on his chest, pushing him back. He fell onto the bed and Dawn rose above him.

“Enough,” she panted, tugging down his boxers so he sprang free. Her hand sought him, and at her touch, he nearly launched off the bed. Her hand was a silken vise, incapacitating him. Her other hand divested him of his undershorts, tossing them somewhere onto the darkness of the oaken floor.

“No more Miss Nice Guy,” Dawn said, releasing him and straddling his hips. He could feel how wet she was. How hot. How sexy. He was on fire.

“Condom?” she whispered into his ear. He wanted to answer, but he'd forgotten how to talk with a goddess astride him. He reached up and cupped the breasts swaying before him.

Finally, he managed to murmur, “Side pocket of my overnight.”

She launched herself from him and padded naked across the floor. He watched her in the dim light, loving the way she moved, the curve of her hip, the sweet view presented as she bent and rummaged through his bag.

She pulled out a string of condoms from the pocket. “Think this will be enough?”

She laughed, the musical sound fell upon him and something like sheer joy gathered deep inside him.

She scurried to him, climbing upon the bed as graceful as a lioness. She seemed to be playing with him. The roles had been reversed. He didn't mind. His huntress ripped a package free from the row with her teeth and straddled him again.

The sight of her creamy thighs on either side of him made his mouth go dry. She smiled at him and ripped open the condom, again, with her teeth. “I know. Don't tell my dentist I'm using my teeth to open these things. And I won't tell anybody what you used your teeth for.”

Tyson laughed and took the condom from her, jammed it on his length and pulled her down for a kiss. “I won't tell if you don't.”

She laughed against his lips before lifting herself and sliding onto him.

If anyone had asked him at that moment to describe how good she felt sheathed round him, it would have come out as gobbledygook. There were no words.

It must have been the same for Dawn.

She released an “mmm” before starting to move. He held her smooth hips and let her have her wicked way with him. She was mesmerizing. So wild and lovely with her hair streaming down her back, eyes closed and utter concentration on her face. Her mouth fell open and she licked her lips as her hands lifted to pull her hair up. It made her breasts rise like two tempting orbs.

“This is good,” she said, not bothering to open her eyes. Her rhythm increased and he lifted his hips to meet her stroke for stroke before sliding his hands up to cup her breasts. He pulled her down and filled his mouth with her succulent flesh.

Her hands framed his face and her ebony hair fell
round them, cloaking them with the smell of green-apple shampoo.