Hungry Heart: Konigsburg, Texas, Book 8 (18 page)

“I’ve been here a couple of years.”
More or less.

“I didn’t know you cooked.”

He broke into a grin that might look normal to somebody who didn’t know him that well. “Doing ’cue isn’t exactly cooking. More like alchemy.”

She nodded, on firmer ground now. “I love your brisket. Tom buys it for dinner some nights when we both have long hours.”

“Thanks. I hear you guys are expecting.”

Deirdre’s smile turned luminous. “In seven months. I’m over the moon. Or I will be when I stop puking.”

He managed a chuckle. “Guess your dad’s happy about his first grandchild.”

Her luminous smile dimmed. “Right. We’re already setting some limits on that. Daddy’s idea of what’s appropriate for a baby is sort of like something from Southfork.”

The sound of steps on gravel made them both turn. Darcy pushed through the alley gate, carrying her slaw bowl. “Is this the last of it?”

Blessed distraction.
“That’s it.” He swiveled back to Deirdre. “Nice talking to you,” he lied.

“You too.” She gave Darcy another of those luminous smiles. “Thanks for bringing the slaw, Darcy. It was wonderful.”

“Just paying you back for all the coffee I’ve swilled at your place.” She turned toward him. “Give me a ride?”

“Sure.” He nodded again at Deirdre, pulling his hat forward as Darcy climbed into the truck. “See you, Deirdre.”

“Right.” But her smile was dry this time. He had a feeling she knew exactly how eager he was to get away from that conversation.

He pulled the truck onto Main, glancing toward Darcy. “So where do you live exactly?”

“Turn right on Spicewood, then another couple of blocks to Lometa. Am I really going to be on your barbecue team or were you just humoring me?”

And we’re off.
“Why Miss Darcy, you wound me to the quick. If I say you’re on the team, you’re on the team. We need somebody to scrub pots.”

Darcy smirked. “Bite me. Do I get to cook ’cue?”

He shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what you get to do. But my guess is Chico does the pork for the contest and I do the brisket. From what I understand, though, we’ll be cooking a lot more meat than we enter—we have to feed all these people who come wandering through while we wait on the judging. We’ll probably need more of that slaw. Lots more.”

“To feed the masses.”

He nodded. “Right.

She narrowed her eyes. “Are we getting paid for that part of it?”

“Lordy, I hope so. Otherwise, I’m going to be coming in on the short end in this deal. We’ll probably need sponsors, though. Tom Ames said he was interested.”

“Let me talk to Joe. He looked like he really wanted in on some of this at the barbecue. He might be willing to sponsor us too—I mean, the Rose would.”

“Those deviled eggs were something else.”

She sighed. “I knew you wouldn’t like them.”

“What do you mean? I loved them. Hell, anything with jalapeño goes great around here.”

Darcy frowned. “Every time I think I’ve got you figured out, you throw me a curve ball. Just stop it. Understand?”

He grinned. “Understood. Where’s your house?”

She pointed toward the end of the block. “Up there. The duplex.”

He pulled into her driveway, suddenly feeling cautious. He could maybe ask to come in, but he’d rather she asked him in herself, with no prompting. He turned toward her, pasting on a smile he hoped was cocky.

She arched an eyebrow, her lips edging up. “Well?”

Crap.
Trust Darcy to be difficult.
“Well…”

“Are you coming in or not?”

He blinked. Whiplash. The woman could cause whiplash. “Well, sure, I mean…”

She climbed out of the truck, heading up the stairs toward her front door. At least he assumed it was hers—it had a porch light. She glanced back at him again, almost as if she was daring him to follow her.

Never let it be said that he’d passed up a dare. Particularly one like this.

He jumped down from the truck, reminding himself not to run. Sauntering would have been better, but he didn’t think he could manage it. Maybe a fast saunter was called for.

Darcy watched him, grinning.
Well, damn.
He paused on her top step. “Door unlocked?”

She nodded.

“Good.” He stepped beside her and reached down, sweeping her ankles out from under her, his other arm beneath her shoulders.

She yelped in surprise, her expression somewhere between outraged and amused. He was hoping for amused. Fortunately, the doorknob wasn’t much of a barrier. He pushed the door open with his foot, then stepped inside, slamming the door with his hip.

Darcy grimaced. “Okay. You made your point. You can put me down now.”

He squinted at her in the dim light of her living room. She looked serious. “Any particular place you’d like to land?”

She paused, considering, then shrugged. “You want a beer?”

“Not if it means sitting around being polite.”

“Not usually my thing.”

“Okay, then.” He turned and started up the hall, hoping against hope that the bedroom door would be obvious.

“Where are you heading?” she asked, one eyebrow arching up suspiciously.

“Just looking for a soft place to drop you.” He pushed his shoulder against a likely looking door. “Am I getting warm?”

“I don’t know about you, but I sure am.” Her grin flashed in the dim light of the hall. “You’re on the right track.”

He stepped inside and saw the bed straight ahead. A sizeable bed. Darcy might not have gotten much sleep as a rule, but what she did get was probably comfortable. He took three steps toward the bed, and then pulled his arms away, letting her bounce on the mattress.

“Hey!” She glowered at him.

He dropped onto the bed beside her, grinning.

“What the hell…” she began.

He cupped the back of her head in his hand, bringing his lips down on hers.

Electricity flowed through his system, igniting flames along his spine. Her mouth opened beneath his and he plunged deep, letting his fingers slide through the spikes of her hair, something he’d been wanting to do all afternoon. Of course, he’d been wanting to do all of this for a lot longer than that.

Her fingers pulled against the snaps on his shirt, yanking them open and then rubbing against his skin. Her palms slid across his chest, warmth turning to scalding heat as she did.

He raised his head, trying to catch his breath and failing. “Maybe we should get you out of those clothes.”

She grinned up at him. “Want to see my tattoos?”

“Oh, yeah.”

She reached for the bottom of her T-shirt, pulling it up slowly, slowly toward her shoulders, revealing a pink satin bra and a red tattoo along the side of her breast.

He leaned closer. “What?”

“Chili.” She grinned. “One of a set.”

“Where’s the other one?”

“That’s for you to find out.” One eyebrow arched up.

“That calls for closer examination.” He reached for the clasp at the front of her bra, popping it open so that the pink satin slid to the sides, revealing the cream and rose of her breasts.

He caught his breath. “Those are some gorgeous chilies, lady.” He ran his fingers along the inner cleavage, then circled an areola with his thumb before leaning forward to take it in his mouth.

He sucked hard, pressing the nipple against the roof of his mouth with his tongue, hearing her quick gasp and sigh. He caught the other nipple in his fingers, rolling and pulling as he sucked.

Sweet gods of mesquite, he hadn’t been this hard in months.

Below him, Darcy moaned, rubbing her body against the hard outline of his erection. He moved back slightly. “Trust me, sweetheart, not a good idea right now.”

She sighed, reaching for the button on his jeans. “Okay, time to get those off.”

He slid to his feet at the side of the bed, dropping his shirt on the floor, then reaching for his zipper. He glanced back to see her watching him intently, which immediately sent his temperature spiking up another couple of degrees
.

He forced the zipper down, then shucked his jeans and his underwear, stepping back toward her as his erection sprung free.

Her breasts rose and fell with her breath a little more quickly as she watched him. At least he thought it was more quickly. Might be wishful thinking, though.

He raised his eyebrows. “So why do you still have those shorts on?”

She pushed up on her forearms. “I thought that was your department, sport.”

Clearly, this was going to be one challenge after another. He leaned over her, hooking his thumbs under the edge of her shorts, pulling them down her thighs. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to be swift or slow, efficient or provocative, but Darcy took care of it for him by bending her knees and kicking the last of her clothes across the room.

She stared up at him, blue eyes full of challenge. “Okay, sport. What happens now?”

Darcy wished to the depths of her soul that she could shut up. Just once she wished she could have serious sex with somebody without wisecracks or challenges. Only she didn’t know how to do it. Or rather, she didn’t know how to make herself stop doing it.

She knew why she did it, of course. She was nervous. Hell, she was terrified.

The King was gorgeous. She knew that already, but seeing him without his clothes confirmed it to the nth degree. His body was all sinuous lines, ridges of dark muscle. Plates that extended over his chest, diagonal lines from his side to his groin, solid blocks down the front of his thighs.

His cock stood erect against his belly, thick and veined in the nest of dark hair.

He looked like one of those statues in European museums. David, maybe.

And she looked like a cook. With crazy hair and tattoos and multiple earrings. Another minute and he’d wake up and realize how wrong this was. Maybe he’d pat her on the butt on his way out.

“Darcy?”

She gazed up at his face. One dark brow arched above his brown eyes. “You ready for this?”

Oh yes, please.
She managed a nonchalant shrug. “Any time, sport.”
Oh yeah, right. You’re a real player.

His mouth edged up in a grin. “Is that a challenge?”

She licked her lips. It was getting harder and harder not to drool. “Maybe.”

He leaned over her slowly. Way too slowly as far as she was concerned. She thought about telling him to speed it up, but she had a feeling anything she said right then would be a croak.

He touched his lips to the side of her throat, running the tip of his tongue toward her collarbone. She gasped in a breath, not even bothering to pretend anymore. Her whole body was on fire by now.

His hands dropped to her breasts, cupping her, rubbing his thumbs across the nipples. She moved her hips convulsively, trying and failing to stay still.

“Shhh,” he breathed against her ear. “Take it easy, sweetheart.”

She turned her head, opening her mouth beneath his, nipping his lower lip, then sucking, plunging her tongue deeper.

He groaned, bending to straddle her body, then cupping her breast again, bowing his head to take her nipple in his mouth.

A burning thread seemed to pull taut between her nipple and her core, drawing her body tight. She moaned, running her fingers through his hair, feathering it against her breasts. Then she let her hands drift down his back, sliding over the tight mounds of his buttocks and then over his hip and down. She stroked the length of his shaft, her fingers tightening at she did

His head snapped up, dark eyes burning as he gasped. “Not a good idea.” He rested his weight on his forearms, staring down at her.

“Yes, it is.” One hand dropped to cup his sac, her gaze holding his. “Oh yes, definitely.”

He closed his eyes, groaning. “Christ, Darcy.”

“Give it up, King.” She let herself grin until he moved his fingers between her folds, rubbing them down through her moist heat. The red hot thread drew tighter, pulling up her knees, as he slid one finger deep inside.

She closed her eyes, her back arching, heels digging into the sheet below her. He rubbed his thumb across her clit, and she came undone.

The King leaned back, watching her face, lips curving up in a grin. “My, oh my, that’s a beautiful sight.”

She gasped again, managing to fill her lungs this time and resisting the impulse to punch him. “Bite me,” she muttered.

“Oh, lady—” he shook his head, eyes dark with heat, “—I want to so bad.”

Their gazes locked for another moment. “Do I need a condom?”

She shook her head. “Pill.”

He grinned again, slowly, then reached down to rub the head of his cock across her moist folds.

“Bastard,” she moaned.

“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea.” He brought the head to her opening, pushing in a quarter inch, then out again.