Burned by a Kiss (8 page)

“I should get everybody to bed,” she said softly. “I fall asleep early, in case I get an emergency call in the night. Routine is everything in my business.”

He stood when she did.

Oh, she had good intentions. She was trying to convince herself more than Santana. So when he leaned down to kiss her goodnight, Emma closed her eyes, almost relieved when his lips touched hers. Her whole body yearned to be close to his, as if she’d waited forever to be in his arms. She wanted so badly to pull his head closer to hers, get as close to him as she possibly could.

“Wait a minute.” She pulled back, looked up at him. “Why are you kissing me?”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Since saying
because I want to
isn’t the answer you’re looking for…I guess I have to admit that I’m just as intrigued by you as Nick is by my sister.” He touched the curve of her cheek. “The only difference is that Nick doesn’t know why he’s fascinated by Sierra, and he’ll probably end up getting third-degree burns. I, on the other hand, know exactly why you fascinate me.”

“You said everything had changed,” Emma reminded him, “I
know
everything has changed for you. You sounded very clear about having developed a sudden case of cold feet.”

“I’m not going to say that I’ve handled this whole new-cousin-takes-over-the-ranch and you’re-all-adopted scenario very well. Probably I haven’t handled it one bit.” He shrugged and suddenly released her, as if he’d had second thoughts and was fighting temptation. “You’re right. There’s things I need to work out. You’re the one thing in my life that’s stayed constant, and I guess I’m drawn to that. Which isn’t fair to you. All I know is that when I’m around you, I want you like nothing I’ve ever wanted. Frankly, I’d give anything to be the man who deserves you, Emma Glass.”

He gave the puppies a swift pat on their heads, delighting them, and let himself out.

“And that,” she told Gus and Bean, “is how to run a guy off in record time.”

Santana had wanted her—she’d felt it, in the way he caressed her face, the way his strong arms held her close. And he’d admitted it, with that husky, gentle tone in his voice, the passion barely disguised as he spoke.

A shiver ran over her.

For just the briefest of seconds, Emma desperately wished she’d been brave enough to ask him to stay—in spite of everything.

But unlike Sierra, she wasn’t the kind of woman who took a lot of chances.

She’d never taken a chance on anything, she realized, as she looked around her pretty blue-painted bedroom with the white comforter on the bed, her one frivolous luxury in spite of the pets and her veterinary work. Everything else in her life could be furry, muddy, covered with cat paws—but not her room. This was her sanctuary, her reservoir.

But life in Star Canyon was about taking chances. Half of them didn’t work out. Half of them did.

Proceed with caution
had always been her motto.

Yet if she’d thrown that motto out tonight, Santana would be in this bed with her right now.

A knock sounded on her door. She opened it, her heart leaping. “Did you forget something?” she asked Santana.

“We need to get your Jeep if you want to get to work in the morning.”

She could call Jenny. Jenny would be happy to come by early and give her a ride to the clinic.

Or…

She held the door open. “Or you can drop me off in the morning.”

Heat flared in his eyes. She nearly melted on the spot, alive with wanting him. On a limb, waiting for his answer, Emma wondered if she’d done the right thing. Maybe she sounded desperate, considering the conversation they’d just had. It had seemed so final.

All she knew was that she wanted Santana in her arms more than anything in the world.

He drew in a deep breath. For one wild moment, she thought he was going to turn her down flat.

He closed the door, his gaze strange with darkness, and pulled her up against his chest, kissing her with the heat she needed. Had been waiting for forever. She clung to his sheepskin jacket, lost in what he was doing to her mouth. Her soul.

She heard a moan, realized it was her. He pulled her to him even closer, his mouth harder on hers now, searching, tasting. She pulled back. “Santana—”

He ignored her hesitation, pulled her back to him, his mouth demanding on hers. She felt fire start taking her over, melted against him with a moan. His mouth felt so good. He held her so tight, so hard, that she knew he wanted her. And she wanted him, so much she felt like she was falling into an abyss. But he caught her before she fell, his arms strong, his kisses demanding and insistent, making her body awaken from a slumber she hadn’t realized had claimed her.

“Take me to bed,” she whispered against his mouth.

He stilled with a groan, his mouth angled against hers, then nudged her lips open, sweeping inside her, searching. Didn’t he want her? That thought was instantly perished as he crushed her up against her chest, carrying her down the hall to her room.

He tossed back the white comforter with one hand and laid her down. He looked at her, his eyes dark and haunted. She waited, her breath coming in small pants.

“Santana—”

“You’re beautiful,” he said. “I’ve dreamed of seeing you like this. Being with you.” He pulled off her boots, dropping them to the floor. She moved, thinking to help undress him, but he pressed her back against the pillows. “I just want to look at it, just like this.” He picked up her hand, kissed her fingertips. “I’ve waited years for this moment.”

Her heart raced in a mad tattoo. Slowly, he pulled off her socks, removed her jeans with the care that one would reveal a rare piece of art. She watched fire born in his eyes as he met hers, realized there was no going back from this precipice in their relationship. The dogs snuffled at the door, but Santana didn’t seem to hear. She lay still, wanting desperately to touch Santana, feel his hard muscles—recognized he was savoring every moment, every motion together. She’d never been the object of a man’s desire before—not this kind of intense desire—and it felt like her breath might stop any moment if he didn’t touch her. Hold her.

He put his warm palm against her belly, stroked the lace at the top of her black panties, undid the buttons of her blouse one by one, pushing the blouse away from her black bra with a groan. Desperate for him to touch her, and to run her hands over every inch of her body, Emma squirmed. “Santana, don’t make me wait.”

His gaze met hers. She couldn’t stand it another second. Rising to her knees, she tugged off his shirt, unbuckled his belt, tore off his boots. She got rid of his briefs, stunned by the strong body she’d previously only imagined. “My God.” She touched a wound on his abs, suddenly ill when she realized it was from a bullet.

He pushed her back against the pillow, crushing her mouth with his. Emma arched against him, her hands greedily grabbing at him, feeling the strong planes of skin, the cords of muscle. His mouth claimed hers hard, insistent, demanding, and she begged him with her body to give her more.

“Slow,” Santana murmured, pulling away. He pushed her hair behind her ears, gazing at her lips, down her neck. “I want this moment to last all night.”

He meant it. She saw the hot passion consuming him, felt his need for her. But the moment couldn’t last all night, she was too hungry for him. Needed him too much. When he removed her blouse, dropping it to the floor, and snaked his hands around her to unhook her bra, she kissed his shoulder. Found another bullet wound and closed her eyes.

“Santana,” she whispered, wanting him inside her now. Needed to feel him, hold him, because this moment had nearly been stolen from them forever.

“I’ve got you,” he said. “Don’t worry about anything.”

He cupped a breast reverently, shocking her when he tweaked the nipple, bent to suck it into his mouth. She gasped, nearly coming apart from the hot sensations flooding her. Unable to help herself, she reached for him, wrapping her hand around his shaft. He groaned, her nipple still in his mouth, and she felt her body rush with desire only he could sate.

She gasped when he pushed her back against the pillows again, her hand slipping from him. He tore into her breasts with hot kisses, torturing her nipples with expert licks and nibbles that made her cry out. He buried his face against her belly, crushing her to him, his hands tight against her. The groan that ripped from him stole her breath in answer. He slathered her belly with fire, his kisses urgent. He’d come to the top of the lace again, and she arched, unable to help herself, he kissed her through the fabric.

Then shoved the panties away, stripping her bare at last. He kissed her bud, a gentle introduction, then crushed her against his mouth, holding her captive as he tasted her, kissed her. A cry ripped from Emma and his tongue dove inside her, and the climax that hit her felt like it tore her soul apart.

“Santana,” she cried out, urging him with her hands. Gently he placed her against the bed. Finally, she could reach him, and she pulled him toward her.

“Wait,” he told her, “I’m going to take care of you.”

She realized he was putting on a condom. Her fingers trembling, she tried to help, probably slowing him down instead because he kissed her, pressing her back. His mouth searched hers as if he never wanted to let her go, even as he parted her legs, nestled between them. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured against her lips, and she cried out when his finger slid inside her, parting her folds. A huge groan escaped him when he encountered her slickness, and Emma arched, begging him silently to come inside her.

At her opening, he stilled, his gaze on hers.

“I want you,” she murmured. “I’ve waited forever for this.”

A groan that sounded like a roar ripped from him, and inch by inch, he pushed inside her, claiming her. His fingers danced over her bud, and a wild singing burst inside her as she tried to get closer to the pleasure she felt rising again. Every time her hips convulsed to get more of him, obey the dance of his fingers, he went deeper. A cry gathered at the back of her throat, and he seemed to sense it, because he angled his mouth over hers, kissing her hard. Stealing her breath. Slammed into her over and over, finally letting loose the passion she knew he’d struggled to keep from her. She welcomed it, her hands clutching at his shoulders, begging him not to stop.

The climax broke over her like stars bursting in the skies. “Santana,” she cried, wildly tearing at him to bring him closer. His kisses rained against her mouth. She gasped when he clutched her bare bottom in his palms, crushing her, driving himself in deep. With a cry, he collapsed, and she took him in her arms, reveling at the feel of his heartbeat against her.

They lay there boneless, silent. Emma closed her eyes, loving the feel of him in her arms. It had taken years, but she’d finally made love with Santana Dark.

“I’ve been thinking,” Nick said the next day, coming into the barn where Santana was checking over the collection of horses the Dark ranch had amassed over the years. Santana barely glanced at Nick, his mind completely bewitched by the memory of Emma in his arms yesterday. “Your sister doesn’t trust me.”

That got Santana’s attention. He unwillingly met Nick’s gaze. “Sierra doesn’t trust many people.” Santana closed a stall and went to wash his hands in the wide steel double basin sink. “But if I’m being honest, caution’s a good thing. You have no reason to trust us, either.”

“That’s true, except I do.”

“A man in your position doesn’t get as far as you have by being naïve.” Santana toweled off and faced his new boss. “I’ve no doubt you had us thoroughly checked out. Me, in particular, before you made your offer.”

Nick shrugged. “You’re right.”

“So what’s on your mind?”

“Your mother and father adopted all of you because they couldn’t have children. According to the paperwork, none of you are related. But Sierra’s birth parents are mentioned in the paperwork.”

Santana felt strangely like he’d been sucker-punched. “Where did you find that?”

“In the trust information the lawyers had. I’ve been going over it with them.”

He’d never thought about who their biological parents were, hadn’t wanted to accept what they’d learned that day in the attorneys’ office. Maybe he should have—but they’d all been reeling. Once they knew they no longer had a roof over their head, they’d had to make plans fast.

They’d pushed the heartache away, decided that, blood or no blood, they were a family no one was going to tear apart, and vowed to stay the way they’d always been: close. Tight-knit.

Maybe deep inside they’d known they had to rely on each other. There really had been nowhere else for them to look for emotional security.

“Sierra already thinks I’m some kind of pecuniary weasel. I figure this is your family decision to share or not.”

Nick’s voice had cracked, like he wasn’t comfortable being in the spot he found himself.
Poor bastard
. “Look, for the record, we don’t blame you for anything. Dad did what he had to do. He had faults and issues, and a life we never knew about. We’re all still processing it. We’ll probably be processing it for years. But we don’t blame you.”

“You may feel that way. Your sister doesn’t.” Nick sighed.

“Why didn’t the lawyers tell her when we were there?”

“Because they just happened to locate a birth certificate that was hidden inside one of the files. Either someone misfiled it, or it was placed there later. Clerk error. They’ve worked with your father for years. Papers get lost.”

“Why’d they tell you and not Sierra?”

“I asked.”

“You asked if any of our birth parents’ names were in the files?”

“I wondered how many secrets Sonny had been keeping. And how many my father had been keeping. So I asked, and they checked, and stumbled across a record while the clerk was looking around.”

“Why didn’t they call Sierra?”

Nick looked tired. Santana felt for him. Their shit wasn’t really his problem.

“My guess is they’re going to. Or they’ve tried, and maybe your sister hasn’t returned their calls. From the standpoint of the executorship, perhaps they thought it was important to the estate. Hell if I know.”