Undeniable (26 page)

“I came to see how it went. The visit with your father.”

“For one thing, you were wrong.”

About which, of many, things? “I’ve been known to be on occasion.”

“Well you were this time for sure.”

“How’s that?”

“Seeing him didn’t make me feel better at all. In fact, it made me feel goddamn worse, if you want the truth of it. I hate him more now than I did two days ago, so thank you for that.”

Lord, he was totally overreacting. “Uh, maybe you could wait until he’s awake before deciding that. You know, have a conversation? See where things stand?”

“I don’t need him to be awake. I don’t need to talk to him. And I know exactly where things stand.” He slammed the sole of his boot against the side of the wheelbarrow, knocking the load of wood back to the ground. “What I need is for you to butt out of my business.”

“Fine,” she said, turning away.

“On second thought, you butting in settled things a whole lot faster than if I’d trusted my instincts, so thank you for that.”

“You’re an ass,” she tossed over her shoulder. “You know that?”

“Like father, like son.”

She kept going, then she stopped, spun, came back, and jabbed a finger in the center of his chest. “And that right there is where you’re wrong.”

His eyes glittered from the shadow of his hat. “How do you figure?”

“If you were like your father, or at least like you claim him to be, you wouldn’t have gone to see him. You wouldn’t have done it to settle things between the two of you, and you wouldn’t have done it for Darcy so she wouldn’t feel abandoned by everyone in her family. And you certainly wouldn’t have done it for me.” She poked him again, poked him harder. “You may think you’re some badass black sheep come home to raise hell, but that’s not who you are at all.”

For a long moment, he said nothing, his gaze moving from her finger to her face and back. And then he cracked, the corners of his mouth turning up, his dimples like crescent moons in the stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave. “You’re pretty sexy when you get all worked up, steam coming out of your ears, lighting up your eyes.”

“Steam is not coming out of my ears, and my eyes are no more lit up now than they ever are, and I am not going to have sex with you.” She had to say it, even though her heart was pounding and the truth of the matter was something else entirely.

“Sure you are,” he said, advancing, one step, another, then a third that had her turning and sprinting for her truck.

She was fast but he was faster and she heard his thudding steps behind her, gaining, and because she had no desire to be hit from behind and tackled, she skidded to a stop and let him catch her.
He grabbed her, lifted her, and spun her around, then very awkwardly walked the two of them across the yard.

He used one hand to lower her truck’s tailgate, then lifted her to sit and hopped up beside her. But that’s all he did, swinging his legs, hanging his head, touching the length of her thigh with his. “Lucky for you hefting that ax all afternoon has me beat. I doubt I could get it up even if you begged.”

That had her wanting to put his words to the test. But she didn’t. “What happened to you being mad at the world?”

“I’m still mad. Just not at you.”

Funny, but she wasn’t really mad at him either. “I’m sorry for pushing you to do something you didn’t want to do.”

“No you’re not. You’re just sorry it didn’t go the way you’d hoped.”

Was that true? “Why do you say that?”

“I know living with Hoyt couldn’t have been easy, all that stuff about Santa Claus and shoes. But that doesn’t mean what worked for you in settling things with him is going to work for me.”

She wondered how much to tell him. If he’d hold the truth over her, use it against her. “I never settled things with my father, Dax. I should have, but all I did was help him pack up the house and load the U-Haul. I didn’t even make the trip to Austin with him. I didn’t even wave when he drove away.”

“That’s pretty harsh.”

“He was a drunk. He spent twenty years not remembering he had a daughter. I grew up without a parent. I grew up with an adult living in the same house. I took money from his wallet to buy food and clothes and supplies for school. I ate nothing but sandwiches and cereal for years until I could cook.”

“I didn’t know,” he said, reaching for her hand and holding it.

“No one knew. Well, Buck knew.”

“That’s why you have the booth, isn’t it? More for Buck than anything else.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know why I have it. I tell myself it’s so I won’t forget. So I won’t make the mistakes he did.”

“You won’t make them.” He squeezed her fingers. “You won’t ever forget. And even I know you don’t need the booth for that.”

“You’re probably right.”

He waited a minute, still swinging his legs, bouncing their joined hands on his thigh. “Are you going to have sex with me now?”

Eyes rolling, she tugged at her hand but he wouldn’t let her go. “What happened to you being too tired?”

“I’m all rested up.”

“Is there a minute of the day you’re not horny?”

“That’s your fault, woman. I’d been doing the monk thing just fine before you made me walk you to your truck that day at Lasko’s.”

“Made you walk me to my truck?” She laughed. “That is not how it happened, and you know it.”

“Close enough.”

She let him have that one. “How long had you been doing the monk thing?”

“Hmm. Three years? Maybe four?”

“You? Dax Campbell? Hadn’t had sex for three or four years? No wonder I can’t get you out of my bed.”

“Do you want me out of your bed?”

She shook her head. “I thought I did. That’s why I came looking for you.”

“What? When?”

“That day at Lasko’s. I was hoping you might be there. I wanted to get you out of my system.”

“I didn’t know you came looking for me. Or that I was in your system.”

“Since high school.”

“Huh. Why didn’t we hook up then?”

“Because you didn’t know I existed.”

“I knew you existed.”

“No, you knew Hoyt Poole had a daughter who practically lived with him in the Buck Off Bar.”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

“Are you going to have sex with me now?”

One. Track. Mind. She shook her head. “I’ve got to get back to the saloon.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what I do.”

“I really think you should do me instead. Look.” He moved her fingers to his fly and held her there, filling her hand, so thick and ready, and she squeezed because she couldn’t not.

“We’re in the bed of my truck,” she told him, as if it wasn’t obvious, as if it would make any difference.

“Then it counts as a bed.”

“It’s metal and it’s hot, not to mention uncomfortable.”

“You get on top.”

“Sacrificing for the cause?”

“It’s my cause.”

She glanced around the ranch yard, her pulse racing, her head spinning. “Where’re Boone and Casper?”

“Boone chased Casper into the barn awhile ago. I grabbed the ax as he went by.”

“What?” she asked, unable to stop the gasp or the laughter that followed.

“They’re fine. I’m not.” He laid back, unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his fly, tugged his jeans and his briefs to his knees. Then he grabbed his cock and stroked. “Look at all this meat. Yours for the taking. Just come to papa.”

Oh, she was tempted, her mouth going dry as she watched him fist the juicy ripe head of his cock. She licked her lips, cast a glance toward the barn. The thought of getting caught had her heart beating faster. And she wouldn’t have to get completely naked…

Damn him for being impossible to resist. She pulled up one foot, tugged off one boot, undid her jeans and slid one leg free. Then she crawled toward him, her bare ass in the air, and kissed his cock the way she’d been dying to.

He was sweaty and hot and tasted like salt when she sucked him into her mouth. His skin was tight and slick, the slit in the head open and wet. She tongued him, caught the ridge of his glans with her lips and held tight before lifting up to release him.

His groan nearly rattled the truck on its wheels. “Do that again.”

She did, then once more before dragging her tongue down the underside of his shaft and between his balls. He sucked in a breath and bucked upwards and she added one hand to the mix, ringing his shaft, hefting his sac, slipping lower and teasing his ass.

“You keep that up, you’re going to get in trouble one of these days,” he said, grinding against her fingers.

“Or one of these days you’re going to admit you enjoy it.”

“I wouldn’t be giving you access if I didn’t enjoy it.”

That had her grinning, and crawling up his body.

“Wait,” he said, pushing to sit and scooting to lean against the wheel well. Then he patted his lap, clenching muscles so that his cock waggled.

She rolled her eyes, making her way over to straddle him, her
knees at his knees, then his thighs, then his hips. He held her and brought her forward. She settled her hands on his shoulders and waited for the prodding head of his cock.

He guided himself into place, and still she waited. Anticipation—along with the fact that they were in her truck in the middle of the yard—had her blood running hot beneath her skin.

She was electric and on fire and he slid his cock’s head through her folds, spreading her moisture, opening her. Once in position, he set his hands on her hips at the crease of her thigh and pushed her down. He kept pushing until she was completely impaled and she held all of him inside and neither one of them could move.

He held her gaze, his jaw tight as he gave her a big bad wolf grin. “Now, isn’t this nice? Fresh air and sunshine and a big ol’ cock buried to the hilt inside of you?”

It was, but he didn’t have to know that. She rose up on her knees, lowered her hips slowly, watched the tic in his jaw pop. “Or maybe it’s nice to have that big ol’ cock buried to the hilt in something as juicy and hot as I am?”

“That’s not even a question.” He gave a little grunt and a little upward thrust of his hips. “You gotta know I’ve never had it this good.”

Something close to her heart flipped and landed hard, jolting her. “That’s your overlong experiment with celibacy talking.”

“It wasn’t an experiment.” He placed his palms on the truck bed, used them to brace himself as he fucked her. Then he stopped, closing his eyes and dropping his head back. “It was a case of not giving a shit.”

“About sex? You?”

“Hard to imagine, I know. But there ya have it.”

He thrust again and she rode him, grinding her clit against the base of his shaft in a smooth figure eight.

“I love the way you do that.”

She was still stuck on his not giving a shit about sex. “Were you working someplace where it wasn’t easy to get away?”

“When?”

“When you weren’t having sex.”

“There was some of that. At the end of a hard day, that hour drive to town could be put to better use sleeping. And it’s not like I’d lost the use of my right hand.”

“As much as you love sex, it’s hard to imagine you going without.”

“I love sex because I’m having it with you.”

“So if it had been Amy or Callie or Luck who’d delivered Bubba Taylor’s lunch to Lasko’s that day?”

“I might’ve given each of them a go, but I would’ve always been waiting for you.”

She couldn’t take it anymore. The things he was saying… The words cut into her, split her open, poured themselves into the gash and spread. He took her over. He became part of her, his hands, his cock. His heart.

She opened her mouth over his and loved him, breathing against him, into him, as she caught him tight, pulling up, pushing down, gripping and milking.

He tongued her, bit her, groaned into her mouth until neither of them had words or knew anything but the hot hard slide of his cock and her cunt. He slipped his hands beneath her shirt and up her back. She used her hands looped around his neck to pull his head to her chest. He buried his face between her breasts, nuzzling, the grunts and groans coming out of his mouth muffled by the fabric.

She was going to come, and she wanted him to see, and she threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled his head away, holding
his gaze, catching at her bottom lip with her teeth as light fired in his eyes.

The up and down motion took her closer, the friction heated her flesh. The moisture slick between them was warm and felt so damn good. She blew out quick sharp breaths. Dax did the same. And never once did they break eye contact, even when the waves of orgasm left them shaking.

Minutes later, Dax was the first to smile, his chest heaving as a grin broke wickedly across his face. “So you really thought you’d be able to get me out of your system, did you?”

Boy, if that wasn’t the question of the day.

N
EVER IN HER
life had Darcy had trouble falling asleep until the last few nights in Josh’s bed. It was a big bed, a roomy king with a high ceiling above and a fan lazily stirring the air. The sheets were soft, the pillows abundant, and everything was neat and earthy and warm.

She was safe, cared for, provided for—and all of it on Josh’s dime. He cooked and cleaned. He refused to take money for groceries or rent. He insisted she sleep in his bed while he bunked on the couch. All of that, and he hadn’t asked her for as much as a kiss, leaving her to remember the feel of his body, the touch of his mouth and his hands.

The words he’d spoken. Over and over, his words.

I’m not going to rush the very sweet pleasure of loving
you.

With all he’d done for her, she wasn’t going to press the point. And maybe he was right. She hadn’t exactly been at her best since
him telling her he wanted to see her. The last thing she wanted was to make a mistake she would never be able to fix. He was a good friend. She didn’t want to lose that.

That didn’t mean she had to be patient while waiting. Or that she wouldn’t push when the time felt right to her.

She didn’t know how to be a bystander, how to be passive when there was work to be done. She was antsy with all this being at loose ends since The Campbell had sent her walking, but tomorrow that would change. His condition hadn’t worsened or improved. There was still no word from her mother. And Dax’s idea of being supportive was a joke.