Do Me Right (15 page)

She laughed. "You're a man who likes to live dangerously."

"No, just a man who likes to live...fully." He sucked her clit into his mouth, tasting her arousal, every nerve of his body aware of her response to him. She moaned and clutched at the sheets, writhing beneath him. He spread her thighs wider and teased her without mercy, wanting her to feel everything he could make her feel.

She moaned again, louder, and he felt a thrill of fear. "Use the bandanna," he urged.

She bit down hard on the cloth, the tendons in her neck standing out as she arched to him. Blood pounded at his temples, and even the brush of the sheet against his engorged penis was agony. He slid two fingers into her, groaning softly as she tightened around him, anticipating the moment he would sink into her.

But not yet. He turned his attention again to her clit, stroking and sucking. She was letting go now, losing herself to his touch. He loved watching her abandon herself to pleasure like this, loved knowing she could be that honest with him.

She tensed, every muscle rigid, and then she shook with her release, straining against him, the bandanna gag muffling her cries. Those muffled sounds excited him so that his hands shook as he sheathed himself with a condom.

He focused his gaze on her face as he slid into her. Her eyes were still closed, but she'd never looked more beautiful. He bit his lip to stifle his own cries as she tightened around him. Surely sex had never been this good before. This...complete.

He closed his eyes and thrust hard, giving in to the haze of need that overwhelmed him. He needed this moment. He needed
her.

The realization both thrilled and scared him. He wasn't a man who needed anyone else, but in a matter of days this woman had captured him completely. And he'd surrendered willingly.

His climax was powerful. Consuming. He rode the waves of desire, thrusting until he was spent, then collapsed and rolled onto his side, holding her close, keeping himself inside her, unwilling to break that connection.

Her arms came around him, clutching him tightly, as if she, too, were reluctant to break the bond between them. He could feel her heart pounding in rhythm with his own, a steady beat that belonged to them alone. Did she feel it, too, this connection between them that went beyond the physical? Was it even possible for two people who'd known each other so short a time to be in this deep?

He stroked her back, trying to breathe around a knot of emotion in his chest. What had he done now? His affair with Theresa was supposed to be all about having fun and filling the empty weeks of his recovery.

He'd never meant to screw it all up by falling in love.

She shook her head and reached for a tube of lipstick. Neither of those answers felt right. Lying in Kyle's arms a few moments ago, she'd felt...content. As if everything in her life had suddenly fallen into place perfectly.

But why should she feel that way now--and
here,
of all places? The idea was even more unsettling than Kristen being so nice to her.

She set aside the lipstick, took one last look at herself in the mirror and went downstairs. She heard laughter and the hum of conversation, and followed the sounds to the dining room. Decorated with Laura Ashley wallpaper and golden oak furniture, it looked like a room in a Victorian dollhouse. The kind of dollhouse Theresa had always coveted as a child.

All conversation ceased as she entered the room. At any other time, she'd have tossed off some comment about making a dramatic entrance, but right now she felt like a bug under a microscope. Though she fought not to let her nervousness show on her face, she was relieved when Kyle stepped forward and took her hand. "Come on and meet everybody," he said, his smile reassuring.

He led her first to a short, stocky man with curly brown hair and a perfectly waxed mustache that curled up on each end. "This is Ken, Kristen's better half. Ken, this is Theresa."

Ken grinned and shook her hand, his brown eyes bright with suppressed laughter. "Pleased to meet you. Kristen's always wondering why Kyle won't give the local girls the time of day, and now I know why. They don't grow 'em like you in the country."

His droll expression combined with the impossible mustache made her smile. "I'm definitely a city girl," she said. "But I hope you won't hold that against me."

"Darlin', I wouldn't hold nothing against you. At least not while Kyle here's around to take offense."

"Don't mind him," Kyle slipped his arm around her. "Ken's been married so long, he's just a little jealous."

"Why should he be jealous when he's got me?" Kristen joined them, smiling at her husband.

Ken hugged his wife around the waist. "Kyle ought to be jealous that I found the woman for me a long time ago, while he's been wasting all these years playing the field."

"I promise you I don't consider any of them wasted." Kyle winked at Theresa. Her heart fluttered at the innocent gesture.
Get a grip,
she told herself.

"This is Kelly." Kyle faked a punch at the boy's shoulder. "When I want to upset Kristen, I threaten to teach him all my wicked ways."

The boy's face was tinted crimson as he looked everywhere but directly at Theresa. "Uh, hello. Ma'am."

She managed not to wince at the polite address. In her world,
ma'am
was reserved for grannies. But here things were probably different, so she swallowed the tart comment that rose to her lips and smiled at the boy.

"Come here and meet my absolute best girlfriends." Kyle tugged her toward the sideboard, where Kim and her sister were counting out silverware. "The little one is Karly--with a
K.
And this doll--" he put his hand on the older girl's head "--this is Kim."

"Hi, Kim." Theresa exchanged a secret smile with the girl.

"Their little brother, Kevin, is around here somewhere," Kyle said.

"Mama already fed him and put him down for a nap." Kim made a face. "Otherwise he just makes a big mess at the table."

Kristen summoned them all to the table then, seating Theresa next to Kyle, with Kim, Karly and Kelly across from them. Ken said grace and then began passing platters of chicken-fried steak, sliced tomatoes, mashed potatoes, fresh corn and slices of hot, homemade bread. "Everything looks delicious," Theresa said. If this was a preview of the rest of her meals here, she'd have to be careful or she wouldn't be able to button her jeans by Monday.

"Kyle tells me you own a tattoo parlor," Kristen said as she buttered a slice of bread for Karly.

"My brother and I own it together, yes."

"Oh, wow!" Kelly stared at her bug-eyed, though he jerked his gaze to his plate when she smiled at him.

"That's a rather unusual occupation for a woman, isn't it?" Kristen asked.

"Not really." She stirred gravy into her potatoes. "A lot of women get tattoos these days, and a lot of times they're more comfortable with a woman doing the work. And some guys think women have a lighter touch with the needles, so they prefer it, too."

"Just the thought of needles gives me the willies," Ken volunteered. "But I can see how having a pretty woman to admire while you were getting it done would make things a little easier."

"I should have warned you my husband is an impossible flirt," Kristen said. "Trust me, he's harmless."

Theresa laughed. If anything, Ken's teasing had made her feel more at ease. Maybe this weekend wouldn't be so awkward after all.

"That's me," Ken grinned. "Even the bulls knew I was no real threat, which is why my rodeo career was so short."

"You were a bull rider?" she asked.

"I wouldn't say he ever rode them," Kyle said. "But he was pretty good at getting bucked off."

"Speaking of bulls," Kristen said when the laughter had subsided. "Did Ken tell you we're thinking of selling Old Gold?"

"No kidding?" Kyle cut into his steak. "Thinking it's time to add some new blood to the line?"

"Something like that," Ken said.

"What do you think, Kyle?" Kristen asked. "Should we go for another full-blood Angus, or add one of the new crosses?"

He shrugged. "That's up to y'all. I don't really have a say in it."

"But you do!" The sharpness in Kristen's voice startled everyone. She smoothed her napkin in her lap, regaining her composure. When she looked up again, she was smiling, but Theresa noticed the strain around her eyes. "The Two Ks is still half yours. Of course you have a say in how it's run."

"You and Ken are the ones running the place now. Those decisions are up to you."

Ken started to say something, but a look from Kristen silenced him. "I know you've been away with the rodeo and you haven't had time to get involved with running things, but that's changed now," she said. "This injury is the perfect opportunity for you to get back up to speed on things."

Theresa wondered if the others heard the sigh that escaped Kyle. He laid aside his fork and looked at his sister. "I'm not interested," he said. "You do what you think is right."

Kristen's smile faltered. She leaned toward him, her voice pleading. "I know you say that. And I could understand a young, single man not wanting to be bothered. But that's changing. You're older now. You can't compete in the rodeo forever. Your injury proves that." She glanced at Theresa. "When you settle down and have a family of your own, you'll want a home for them. That home is here. You know that."

Kyle frowned. "I don't want to talk about that now." He picked up his fork again. "Let's just have a nice dinner." He turned to Ken. "Are these tomatoes out of your garden?"

Ken seemed to welcome the change of subject, too. "We've had a bumper crop this year. Funny thing about tomatoes. Some years you don't get any, and the next year you have more than you know what to do with."

As the conversation rambled from gardening to rodeo gossip, Theresa rearranged the food on her plate, her appetite vanished. Why didn't Kyle tell his sister once and for all he was never coming back to the ranch and that was it? He wanted other things in his life--and what was so wrong with that?

Then again, maybe he hadn't told her because he wasn't sure. After all, if all those generations of Camerons had ranched this land, was Kyle really enough of a rebel to turn his back on all that? He was at an age where a lot of men thought about settling down--and you couldn't get much more settled than Laura Ashley wallpaper and Grandmother's crocheted bedspread.

The meal ended with lemon pound cake. "It's Kyle's favorite," Kristen said as she served up thick slices of cake. "Grandmother Cameron's recipe."

Of course. Someone like Kristen probably never used boxed cake mix, much less bought dessert already prepared at the grocery store bakery. "It's delicious," she said somewhat weakly.

"Before you leave, I'll give you the recipe."

Did Kristen really think Theresa was going to be baking cakes for Kyle? "Um, that's okay," she said. "I've never baked a cake in my life."

"You haven't?" Theresa had to hand it to Suzie Homemaker here--she covered her shock pretty well. Her smile brightened a few watts and she brushed crumbs from the tablecloth. "I'll give you the recipe anyway. It's really easy. And it's Kyle's favorite."

"Then maybe you should give the recipe to Uncle Kyle."

Theresa could have kissed Kim. She bit back a smile as Kristen stared at her daughter. "Well, um, yes, I suppose I could," she said.

"Don't bother with the recipe," Kyle said, extending his plate. "But I wouldn't mind another slice of cake."

When they'd finished eating, Kristen started gathering up the dirty dishes. "Let me help you," Theresa said, stacking plates.

"Oh, no! You're our guest." Kristen took the plates from her. "The girls will help me. You go with Kyle and Ken and visit."

The men had already wandered into the living room. As Theresa went in search of them, she checked the hall clock. Barely seven o'clock and already she was bored out of her skull. If she was back home, she'd be working or at least having a good time with friends in one of the Sixth Street bars. Or she and Kyle might be somewhere alone....

Now there was a thought. She felt better. She'd find Kyle and suggest they sneak off.

She found him and Ken in the living room, seated at a wooden card table. "Hey, there she is!" Ken looked up from the box of dominoes he'd just opened. "You're just in time to learn to play Moon."

"Moon?" She glanced at Kyle.

He pulled out the chair next to him and patted it. "Ken's got his heart set on teaching you to play dominoes."

Theresa could not believe she was sitting here listening to a cowboy with a preposterous mustache explain the intricacies of a domino game. Zach would laugh his ass off if he could see her, but then, what could she do?

"Now, Moon is really easy," Ken said as he spread the dominoes on the table. "It's kind of like cards in that you try to match up pairs. First we take out all the blanks except the double blank."

He did this, dumping those tiles back into the box. Then he began turning over the rest of the dominoes and mixing them up. "Each of us will choose seven dominoes and bid how many tricks we think we can catch."

"You didn't know when you came here you'd be turning tricks, did you?" Kyle said.

"
Catching
tricks, not turning them," Ken said. "Now draw your tiles."

They drew and Theresa studied her hand, aware of Kyle watching her. Looking up and finding his whiskey-warm eyes on her made her think of at least a dozen more private games she'd like to play with him.

"You have to bid at least four tricks but not more than seven," Ken instructed. "You get a point for every trick you catch, and if you get set, you lose as many points as you bid. If you go negative, you get a hickey."

Theresa stared at him. "Could you explain that again in English?"

"I understood the hickey part." Kyle waggled his eyebrows at her.

She smiled. You had to admire a guy who could make even dominoes--a game she associated with groups of old men who chewed tobacco and spat in the dirt--entertaining.

"Let's just play a hand," Ken said. "You'll get the hang of it."

The game proved to be simple after all and more fun than she'd imagined. Soon she was slapping down dominoes and shouting in triumph when she made a bid or howling when Kyle stole her trick. But the fun was spoiled when Kristen joined them. Not that she meant to put a damper on things, but with his wife present, Ken toned down the flirting. And every time Theresa looked up, Kristen was watching Kyle, hurt evident in her eyes.

"I remember when we learned this game," Kristen said as she watched the others play. "From that old ranch hand. What was his name?"

"Ollie Paget," Kyle said. "He had one finger missing from where he'd got it caught in a dally rope."

"And he dipped Red Rose snuff." Kristen laughed. "We played for pennies, and when Mama found out we'd been gambling away our allowance, she had a fit."

"She'd never have known about it if you hadn't squealed," Kyle said.

Kristen made a face. "I thought that would get me my allowance back."

"Instead all it got you was grounded for two weeks."

The domino game abandoned, they fell into reminiscing about childhood pranks. Ken, who'd grown up nearby, joined in. Listening to their tales of roping calves, falling out of trees and riding horses, Theresa felt as if she'd been raised in a foreign country. Seeing how many free games she could rack up at the video arcade and sitting through fourteen showings of
Star Wars
didn't sound very adventurous in comparison to camping out overnight in a tree fort or jumping off cliffs into the creek.