Dylan (25 page)

“How old was he?”

“Thirteen.”

“So young?”

“Sometimes you have to grow up fast,” Dylan said, not going into detail. Hell, it wasn't his story to tell. Jolene's gaze was still locked on his when he shook his head. “You'll have to ask Tyler if you want to know why.”

“You want Joe and me to go outside and start the ladies line dancing?”

Jolene smiled. “I think that'll really help keep the ladies involved and coming back. Watching all y'all dancing and stripping is fun, but women really like to dance.”

The two left, discussing which dance to begin with. A few moments later the music stopped and they heard Dave asking everyone to line up for some good old-fashioned fun.

“You remember the routine Natalie and Jennifer taught you?” Jolene asked. When he nodded, she continued, “I'll go out a few minutes before you do. When the lights dim, you stride forward in that loose-limbed walk of yours.”

“What are you going to say?”

“I'll recite the rules I have for my dancers. I'll let everyone know why I have those rules and why no customer is allowed to cross that line either.”

“That'll work. Short but sweet, and to the point.”

Dylan watched her leave and knew he had a little time before he had to get undressed for his act. He pulled his cell out of his pocket and swore. “Hell, I don't have her phone number.”

Resolving to get it from Jolene after his act, he got ready for his routine. Fingering the rope, he was reminded of a woman with green eyes and kissable lips. He'd be better off not getting involved, but that wouldn't get rid of the ache in the vicinity of his heart.

He'd been there before, but this time things were different. His working the ranch had never been affected like it had today. And he sure as hell had never wanted to track a woman down before to sort things out; he'd let the others walk away… but Veronica DelVecchio wasn't walking out of his life now that she'd stormed into it.

“Women!” he grumbled, reaching for the rope. The heft of it felt right in his hands; he could pretend he was out working the ranch with his brothers… well, up until he had to toss his rope around the designated birthday girl.

“I'd rather get thrown off Wildfire into a stand of cacti than be here tonight.”

That thought led to another. “Maybe my back East lady would volunteer to pull the cactus spines from my wounded hide.”

You'd better find that woman and make up with her.

“Maybe I will.”

Ronnie closed the book with a sigh. “I really love a great romance.” Setting the book on her shelf, she looked at the clock by her bed. “Not the first time I've read past midnight… won't be the last.”

Needing a breath of air, she headed downstairs and outside to sit on her front steps—not quite like back home, but close enough. Breathing deeply, she started to feel a little better. The air was warm and the stars were bright.

The sound of someone calling her name had her looking up and recognizing Dylan's truck driving toward her. Her heart lurched in her breast, beating double time, until she realized it wasn't him when the driver turned and grinned. It was Jesse who waved and whistled at her.

“Nice outfit, slim,” he called out as he drove by.

Looking down, she saw what he must have: bare feet and a baggy shirt slipping off her shoulder—that was it.

Her phone vibrated and she answered it.

“Ronnie?”

Dylan's voice wrapped around her like a hug, but having spent the night reading a romance novel instead of wrapped in his arms, she held back the reaction screaming inside of her. “How'd you get my number?”

The sharp intake of breath told her she'd hit her intended mark—payback was a bitch, but his reaction wasn't quite what she expected. “Darlin', I've surely missed your sassy mouth.”

“Damn it, what do you want?” The man got to her on all levels, and she was afraid that if she didn't disconnect the call soon, she'd start crying like a baby. A girl had her pride.

The heartbeat of silence had her biting her tongue. When would she learn to control her temper?

“Darlin', you can kick and bite all you want, but you're going to be in my bed tonight.”

Her heart began to pound. “Maybe I'm not interested.”

“Liar,” he rasped. “You know you want me as bad as I want you… I'm planning to make you crazy later. You'll be screaming my name, wrapping your legs around my waist, and begging me to fill you.”

The picture he painted was so real, so vivid, she had to swallow the saliva pooling in her mouth. “Not gonna happen,” she rasped.

“Wanna bet?” he asked. “Pack a bag, darlin', 'cause when my shift's over, I'm coming to pick you up.”

“What shift?” The voices cheering in the background all sounded female. The light went on… someone was finally home. “Are you at the Lucky Star?”

“Yep.”

“I thought your last night was a couple of days ago.” What was he doing back working for Jolene? Why didn't he tell her? And why the hell should she care?

“I'll be there in an hour.”

The devil in her bit out, “I'm busy.”

But he didn't answer her; he'd already disconnected.

“Damn man,” she swore. “I'm not interested in him anymore.”

Now what was she going to do? Walking back inside, she slammed her front door and mumbled, “Maybe I don't want to see him again.”

Looking down at her hands, she noticed they were trembling. “He's right… I am a liar.”

Heading upstairs, she went over her choices aloud. “I can stay here and be mad at the man who bruised my heart.” By the time she reached the top step, she added, “Or I could pack an overnight bag and be ready when he picks me up and waylay him with teeth and tongue.” She knew just where to touch to drive him up and over the peak into madness. “I could hold him hostage here until he admits he should have said good-bye earlier today.”

Lighter in heart, she was already formulating her attack. “I think I'll start with that sweet spot he has at the base of his neck and work my way along his collarbone until I can trace a path from the base of his throat to his navel.”

Grinning, now that the plan was hers and not his, she sprinted down the hallway to her bedroom and threw a tote bag on her bed and tossed in jeans, underwear—super skimpy—and a skinny T-shirt.

Then she headed to the shower and turned it to scald. She was going to be loose, limber, and ready when her man came to call.

***

He looked across the room and met Jolene's direct gaze. Damn. He'd given his word; he didn't have a choice. With a slight nod toward the brown-haired woman standing stage front, Jolene confirmed what he'd feared.
Damn
. His back was tired and she was a big old girl.
Suck
it
up
, he told himself as he raised the rope over his head and began the smooth, circular motions necessary to work the rope. Satisfied with the motion, he let the rope fly. It landed around his target's middle; he flicked his wrist and it tightened around her.

Her surprised expression changed to one of pleasure. At least Jolene'd be happy that he'd made the birthday girl smile.

Dylan finished his act and made a beeline for backstage. Dressed, he set his Stetson on his head and headed for the other side door. Looking to the left and then the right, he slipped out the door, grateful the crowd hadn't made it around back yet. His world shifted toward normal as he spotted his truck, right where his brother promised he'd park it. “You can always count on a Garahan.”

Driving over to Ronnie's, he wondered if his little filly would be giving him a hard time or trying to get him hard. A shiver wracked his frame as anticipation lit a fire in his gut. He'd been afraid she wouldn't speak to him after the way he'd let her leave the Circle G without saying good-bye. He knew she'd still be there and was sorry he'd acted like an ass. But he was ready to make it up to her, as soon as he kidnapped her and drove her back to the ranch. Then he'd have his way with her and convince her he was worth the effort to keep up with his temper and his moods.

Mostly difficult moods, if his ex was to be believed. He thought he was a peach, but then again, he didn't see anything wrong with waking up and punching one of his brothers before coffee. They were Garahans, they had tempers, they defused each other's tempers. End of story.

He pulled up in front of Ronnie's shop and wondered what kind of reception he'd receive. He hadn't given her a chance to say much on the phone. Walking to the door, he decided he would roll with whatever kind of mood she was in. He knocked twice and then let himself in. She knew he was coming, so he didn't see any need to stand outside waiting.

With his back to the room, he closed the door and heard someone on the stairs. He looked over his shoulder and just about swallowed his tongue. Ronnie stood on the stairs wearing next to nothing and his brain simply short-circuited.

He didn't remember moving, but then she was in his arms, nibbling his chin, sliding her tongue along the rim of his mouth before she tangled her tongue with his.

“Ronnie, darlin',” he whispered against her lips before sliding his hand down the length of her spine and molding her to him. “I'm sorry I didn't wait for you,” he murmured against her lips. He was a fool to let his temper dictate his actions. She was his woman, his match in bed and out. Her temper more than matched his. How could he let anything get in the way?

“I'm sorry I let you leave without saying good-bye.” He crushed her to him and lost himself in the honeyed sweetness of her lips. Anger forgotten, he gave in to the need that had been clawing at his gut all day. Blood racing, heart pounding, he deepened the kiss, tongues tangling, hands seeking her secret places, pushing her as close to the edge as he was.

When she wrapped her legs around him, he gripped her thighs and sampled the side of her neck, inhaling the delicate scent that was uniquely hers. “I have a fierce temper.”

Ronnie sighed and tilted her head farther to the side, allowing him to nibble on the tendon, eliciting tiny moans from her luscious lips. “Forgive me?”

***

Ronnie couldn't think, could barely breathe. Her plan was going awry. She wanted to be in charge, she wanted to call the shots, but his wicked lips were wrecking havoc with her heart and messing with her mind.

“Just tell me what you want, darlin'.” His lips blazed a trail over her heart and between her breasts. “And I'll make it happen.”

His vow released the words she'd hidden in her heart after he'd left her hanging at the ranch. “Love me, Dylan,” she cried out as his lips toyed with her breast before pulling it into his mouth. “I need you to love me.”

He released her breast and reared back, nostrils flaring, eyes dark and compelling. “Don't let go.”

Her head felt light, her voice nonexistent, but she managed to nod. He brushed a hand across her thong-clad backside, making her squirm in anticipation. She wanted him deep inside of her.

Dylan bent his head and traced the outside edge of her ear with the tip of his tongue. The rasp of his zipper had her shivering again, but she needed her brain to work, she needed to be sure he protected her.

“Help me,” he whispered, tracing his tongue along the line of her cheek, while walking toward the wall and leaning her against it.

“How?”

“Lock your legs and lift your sweet backside, so I can cover myself and protect you.”

Heart in her throat, she tensed her thighs and lifted, and Dylan groaned.

“Darlin', you're killing me.”

“But—”

She felt his hands moving, brushing against her sensitized backside as he opened the foil packet and covered himself.

“Ease up, darlin'.”

Legs shaking, she did as he bid, loosening her hold on him but not letting go, even when a cramp settled itself in her left butt cheek. She sucked in a breath but rode through the pain.

His lips found hers as his hands instinctively found the knotted muscled and massaged it loose. With a deft touch, he lowered her and slid all the way home.

She arched back to take more of him. He held on to her hips with a grip of iron as he pulled back and then plunged again. He picked up speed as his lips traced a path along the line of her jaw. She gave herself over to the magic of his mouth and hands, reveling in the strength of him, the rigid length of him, and was rewarded with a mind-melting orgasm that stole her breath.

But Dylan didn't stop; he slid in and out of her, increasing his pace, adding to the tension building inside of her. A low, throaty moan of ecstasy fueled her passion, pushing her closer to the edge.

She clamped her legs around him with all of her strength and grabbed ahold of his muscled backside, urging him to take all, to give all. His hoarse shout of triumph sent her spiraling into oblivion with him.

“Darlin', you've got to let me go.”

“Mmmm…” Deliciously languid warmth filled her. “No.”

“My legs have about three seconds before they give out,” he warned as he eased out of her and swayed, and nearly lost his grip.

Reality intruded… the bitch. “Sorry,” she murmured. Placing her lips to his pounding heart, she uncrossed her ankles and let her legs glide down the long length of him, brushing against denim as she did, reminding her that he couldn't even wait to take his pants all the way off before he made love to her. “You are lethal.” She locked her arms around him when he teetered toward her. “Lean on me.”

His weight shifted and she braced herself, laughing. God, it felt good to laugh. “I didn't think you'd lean all of your weight on me.”

He moaned. “You drain me dry, tell me I can lean on you, and then change your mind?”

“No, I didn't.”

“Drain me dry?” He chuckled. “Darlin', it's gonna take some time to refuel and reload.”

“I mean I didn't change my mind.” Her gaze met his and she welcomed the passion, encouraged the desire, and hoped he felt a fraction of what she felt for him.

“I'm only giving you half my weight.” The devil gave her his full weight and toppled them toward the floor.

“Dylan!”

At the last moment, he turned them and took the brunt of the fall on his back. The whoosh of air told her it wasn't a pain-free landing.

“Are you all right?” Worry had her tracing her hands along his shoulders and down his arms, trying to reach his back.

“If you move 'em just a little bit lower, I'd be much obliged, ma'am.”

The girlish giggle sounded foreign to her ears. “You, sir, are making fun of me.”

“Not on your life, darlin'. I've got this cramp—”

“Oh, I'm so sorry.” She sat up and his low moan told her more than words. “Just where is this, uh, cramp?”

His gaze locked with hers and his slid his hands down to cup her cheeks. “You're sitting on it.”

She bent down and nipped him the chin. “I thought you needed to refuel before reloading.”

“Kiss me, darlin', so I can refuel.”

Ronnie wasn't sure she believed him. “You can't possibly have anything left inside.”

“My heart's so full right now, darlin', it'll last a lifetime.”

Tears filled her eyes and spilled down over her cheeks onto his forehead.

“Ronnie, darlin',” he whispered, “don't do that.” He shifted her to his lap, sat up, and cradled her to his chest.

Words caught in her throat, but they weren't necessary. She wrapped her arms around him and let his gift of love pour through her. Oh, he hadn't said the words yet, but he came close… so awfully close.

For now, it was enough.