Her Bucking Bronc Page 5

  “I’m sorry.” She jumped to her feet. “How about you come out to the ranch for breakfast? I’ll get home and shower while you get ready.”

  “You’re inviting me to your home?”

  “I need to cook when I get stressed. I’ll make some pastries.”

  As if there was any doubt he would go, the promise of sugary concoctions made it a slam dunk. “Sure. I just need the address.”

  While she was texting him the ranch’s location, he watched her body, seeing more skin than he’d been privileged to view before. He was right about how incredible her body was. His hands itched to touch her.

  That wouldn’t stop him from going to her house, though.

  She reached for the door then paused. “Thank you, Dylan.”

  His first name rolled off her tongue so smoothly. He found he liked the sound of it in her whiskey voice.

  “Anytime, Hannah.”

  She glanced back at him with those doe eyes and then she darted out the door, closing it behind her. Dylan ran his hands down his face and wondered what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

  Dylan spent the next twenty minutes taking a cold shower and shaving. He’d spent lonely nights in his hotel room. He wouldn’t admit it, but he missed Hannah. Whenever she came to the jobsite, he found his blood pumping and he felt alive. It had become more than a job. For the first time in a long time, he looked forward to going to work.

  He’d had trouble sleeping since the precious three seconds where he’d felt her body against his. His dreams had been full of visceral, carnal images of what she looked like beneath the T-shirt and jeans. The memory of her lips nearly brought him to wet dreams.

  None of the food anywhere in or around Tanger compared to Hannah’s cooking. No wonder her restaurant was her life. The woman had a gift, plain and simple. It was a shame she wasn’t cooking at Cindy’s any longer. He had become personally invested in making the new restaurant the best it could be.

  And if he were honest with himself, it wasn’t just because of her cooking. He liked her for all her quirks.

  When Dax Blackwood showed up at the door as Dylan was leaving his hotel room, he was surprised and, if he were honest, disappointed. Dylan wanted to hop in his truck and meet Hannah for breakfast, not dilly-dally with her brother.

  “Morning.” Dax smiled and held out his hand. “It’s good to see you.”

  Dylan shook the other man’s hand. “Morning.”

  Dax’s smile faded. “I’m here about Hannah.”

  “Is she okay?” Worry flooded Dylan’s gut. She’d only been gone twenty minutes.

  “No, she’s not okay. Something must’ve happened and she won’t talk to me.” Dax ran his hand down his face. “I’m going to tell you a few things and I’m sure my sister is going to burn my ass for it, but I don’t care at this point.”

  Dylan’s heart picked up speed. “Then tell me.”

  “I’m worried about her and I think you may know what’s going on.”

  “I don’t know why. I hardly know her.” Dylan didn’t add that he did fantasize about her. Dax didn’t need to know that. Ever.

  “She had a loss two years ago, and well, she’s had trouble getting out of bed some days. When the restaurant burned, she got worse.” Dax paused and Dylan didn’t want to know but did want to know what the other man was going to tell him. “When she walked into Lucas’s office all full of fire, I saw the old Hannah, and the only change I could think of was you.”

  “Me?” Dylan’s brows went up. “What did I do?”

  “I’m just guessing here, but I think you made her feel again. She’s been in my house the last few days baking like a madwoman, but she won’t talk to me.” Dax speared him with an intense gaze. “Did anything happen at the jobsite?”

  Dylan thought back to the day they had started grading. “She came by with steak sandwiches she’d made for lunch and—”

  “Wait, she made you her steak sandwiches? With the pretzel rolls?” Dax’s eyes widened.

  “Yeah and they were so good, I can’t eat anything else without comparing them. The next day she brought bear claws.” And then I kissed her, again and again. Dylan had replayed that moment over and over in his mind. He couldn’t stop himself.

  “She started baking again, but she’s not the same. She’s almost manic.” Dax put his hands on his hips and squinted up at the sun. “I’m going to ask you to do something and it’s going to sound crazy, but I need your help.”

  Dylan nodded. “I’m in. What do I need to do?”

  * * * * *

  Hannah took the world’s fastest shower and put on actual clean clothes, including a bra. She was mortified, and yet strangely aroused, when she’d found herself with little clothing lying on Dylan’s hotel bed. It had smelled of him.

  Then she really looked at him and discovered the most amazing classically sculpted chest. It took a lot of strength to not touch him and feel the fur between her fingers, lick the warm, bronze skin.

  Sweet biscuits and gravy.

  She hadn’t showered or washed her hair in at least two days. It was a wonder he’d accepted her breakfast invitation.

  She ran the brush through her wet hair and slipped on a pair of tennis shoes. The oven beeped and she raced into the kitchen. Hannah threw herself into baking and had the scones in the oven in record time. It felt good to have the dough between her fingers.

  Newly returned from her trip, Mama emerged from her bedroom dressed in a pretty pink outfit. She was a petite, older version of Hannah, with her brown hair liberally sprinkled with silver. She had a pep in her step that had been missing. Mama even looked healthier, with a sparkle in her blue eyes.

  “Morning, sweetie.” Mama brushed a kiss on Hannah’s cheek before heading to the coffeepot.

  “Where you headed?” Hannah slid onto the stool on the other side of the peninsula that separated the kitchen from the family room. She wasn’t anxious. She was just waiting for the scones to be finished.

  “I’m going shopping with Sophie.” Mama smiled, happy to have Dax back together with his high school sweetheart. The two women had become fast friends again, leaving Hannah at home, which was fine by her. She was certain they were talking about potential wedding plans and Hannah wanted no part of that.

  “Have fun.” She picked up her now-cooling coffee and sipped it, wishing for her espresso machine. She pushed the idea away because therein lay thoughts she didn’t want to let out of their cage. Sooner or later, there would be no safe topics to think about, but she wasn’t there yet.

  “You can come with us, you know.” Her mother eyed Hannah with a maternal suspicion. Hannah tried to look as innocent as possible.

  She shook her head. “Nope. I’ve got nothing I need to buy.”

  Mama put one hand on her hip. “Pardon? You lost everything you own in a fire a few months ago. The only thing you bought was a pair of jeans, two T-shirts, a few sweats and necessities. You’ve got to replace everything, Hannah.”

  Oh, but she wasn’t ready to do that. Some things couldn’t be replaced. Her heart pinched, and damn it to hell, her eyes pricked with tears. Again. She couldn’t be sad. She had to be happy and move on.

  “Just go, Mama. I don’t want to talk about it.” Hannah escaped from the room, leaving her coffee and her mother behind. The backyard sparkled in the early morning sun. She heard a car start up and tuned everything out except the sound of the birds twittering around her. A few squirrels joined in and it all brought her a temporary peace.

  “What are you doing out here?” Dylan’s voice shocked her to the point she jumped a foot in the air and nearly peed herself.

  She pressed a hand to her pounding heart and turned to look at him.

  Holy sweet mother. He was just as handsome, big and spectacular as she remembered. And he smelled good. Her body cried out and her head told it to shut up.

  A thousand things raced through her head. Then she heard the sound of the timer screeching inside.

  “I’
ll be back in a minute.” She raced into the house, banging through the back door with a silent apology to the wall as the door handle smacked it. She pulled the scones from the oven and set the pan on the cooling rack.

  As she headed back out of the kitchen, she finally realized what she was doing. She stepped back outside, wondering if Dylan was still waiting for her at the pump.

  The infamous spot in the Blackwood backyard had been a hangout, a mandatory wash station decreed by Mama, and held a great deal of memories for Hannah. To her surprise, he sat at the picnic table and was just putting his phone in his front pocket.

  He pushed his hat back and crossed his ankles. “Something smells good.”

  Hannah crossed her arms and leaned against the huge oak tree whose branches created a canopy of shade at the pump. The leaves whispered in the breeze. It should have been a peaceful spot, but she was itchy in her own skin. Off balance.

  “Why are you here?”

  He met her gaze. “You invited me for breakfast, remember?”

  Hannah shook her head. “I’m crazy, Dylan. I mean, like for real crazy. Some days I have no idea what I’m doing. Did you know my fiancé died? I’ve been stumbling through life since then. It’s been a swirling mass of confusion, and now things seem so crystal clear.” She blinked, her eyes stinging. “Fighting with you pushed me to wake up from the fog I was living in. Stupid and foolish as it sounds, you yanked me back into life.”

  Her head swam and before she realized it, he was beside her, guiding her to sit down on the picnic table. She felt cold all over and she trembled.

  “Thank you.” She leaned forward and put her head between her knees. A cold cloth landed on her neck and she closed her eyes.

  “I’m sorry for your loss. And for giving you the vapors.” His deep voice was low and soothing, while his hand ran up and down her back.

  “I feel like an idiot.” She spoke to the dirt and thick green grass beneath her bare feet.

  “Nah, we all have low spots in our lives. I came because you invited me. Because I like being with you, even if you are bossy and stubborn.”

  Her eyes closed. “Thank you. Sometimes I get out of control and I have trouble pulling myself out of it.”

  “Yeah, I’ve done that. I needed someone to kick my ass too.”

  She chuffed a laugh. “Is that what you’re doing?”

  “More or less.”

  She didn’t feel like she’d been ass-kicked. No, she felt taken care of. Strange as that sounded. He wasn’t a stranger or a friend, but she felt safe.

  After a few minutes of breathing, she felt calmer and managed to sit up. He plucked a black bandanna off her neck and went to the faucet to wet it. When he returned he cupped her chin and wiped her face. The combination of the cool cloth and the breeze felt amazing.

  She stared at him; the gentle man was so different than the general contractor who had argued with her from the moment they met. He was a good man, and that shouldn’t surprise her. Dax would have investigated Dylan thoroughly before hiring him for the restaurant rebuild. The Blackwoods had family friends, the Grahams, and Lazarus Graham was a Texas Ranger who had gone to college with Dax. Whenever they wanted any criminal check done, Laz was the go-to.

  All that aside, Dylan could have gone about his business at the jobsite without her. Probably even wanted to, but he decided to come for breakfast anyway.

  Before she realized what she was doing, she kissed him. His lips were warm and soft. She pulled back and looked at him. His gaze searched hers for something. Whatever it was, he must’ve found it because he pushed his hat off, leaned forward and kissed her back.

  His mouth moved across hers with deliberate gentleness, while he lapped at the seam of her lips. She sighed and opened to his questing tongue. The inviting recesses of his mouth were hot and delicious, and she dove in with wild abandon.

  They didn’t touch except for their mouths. His hot breaths gusted across her cheek while her body pulsed in time with her thumping heart. The distant sounds of horses and a barking dog were the only sounds other than their mouths.

  He pulled back and her eyes fluttered open. The pupils of his eyes were almost black against the dark blue of his iris. He smelled good, like peppermint and soap and man. She licked her lips and he watched the path of her tongue that had recently been in his mouth.

  “Wow.”

  “You’re a good kisser, Harry.”

  She smirked at him. “And I guess they teach good kissing skills in Broadway too.”

  He shrugged. “I haven’t had any complaints.”

  She cupped his cheek; the rasp of his dark whiskers felt good against her palm. “Thank you.”

  “For the kiss?”

  “No, for coming here this morning and helping me. I, uh, sometimes fall into a hole and lose my way.” Explaining her bouts with depression was hard to do.

  “I’ve been there.” He took her hand and kissed the palm. “I’m paying it forward.”

  She didn’t know why, but she believed him. “I haven’t done this in more than two years.”

  “I heard.”

  Hannah made a face. “Dax told you.”

  He nodded. “He was worried and apparently couldn’t haul your ass out of your crotchless sweatpants.”

  She reared back and covered her face with her hands. “Oh shit. I can’t believe he said that.”

  “Mmm, he did.” He glanced down at her as though he could see through the fabric.

  Her pussy clenched and a throb echoed through her. It felt as though the world had turned upside down and sideways in the last half an hour.

  “I’m damaged goods, Dylan.” She tried to pull back her building arousal. He worked for her, for pity’s sake. There had to be some kind of rule against sleeping with your general contractor. “I don’t know that I can ever be whole.”

  He made a dismissive noise. “Not a chance. All you need is to get back on the horse. Hiding in your house won’t fix it.”

  She frowned at him. “I wasn’t hiding.”

  Dylan folded his arms, mimicking her pose. “Bullshit.”

  “You think all I need is to get off my ass and get laid?” Her annoyance notched up a bit more.

  “No, I think you need to stop hiding and live. Getting laid is a bonus.”

  “I don’t like you.”

  “We established that the first day we met.”

  “I still don’t like you.”

  He shrugged. “You don’t have to like me. I’ll still do a top-notch job at the restaurant. And I’ll help you with the appliances too.”

  “Keep rubbing it in.”

  “I’m available for other activities too.” He let that hang in the air for a minute while she tried to think of a witty response. In the end her anger won out.

  She poked him in the chest. “You piss me off.”

  “Good.”

  Hannah stood up and towered over him, glad for her height. “I liked you for about ten minutes, but now I remember what an asshole you are.”

  He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into the vee of his legs. “Then push me away.”

  Her entire body pulsed with giant thumps of her heart. Her nipples hardened mere inches from him. She wanted to hit him, to run, to howl, but she did none of those things.

  Hannah climbed up and straddled him. The second her clit came in contact with the hard zipper of his jeans, she gasped. The exquisite sensation rocketed through her and she bit her lip to contain the moan that threatened. He cupped her breasts, tweaking her nipples into aching points. Her fingers dug into his shoulders.

  “Fuck.” She trembled with the force of the passion that had taken hold of her. The need to find release was impossible to ignore.

  He lifted up her shirt and made a sound of pleasure to find a front-clasp bra that was easily removed. Her choice of undergarments might have been fate because the man latched on to one nipple and she almost came.

  His tongue and teeth nipped and lapped one breast then t
he other. She reveled in the sweet pleasure of the moment. It occurred to her that they were outside, but there was no one around. She wasn’t about to stop him.

  “I’ve been dreaming about these.” He pushed up her boobs until they created rather impressive cleavage even to her eyes. To her surprise, he managed to make the nipples almost touch, then pulled both of them into his mouth.

  “Holy shit.”

  He suckled and bit while his cock grew beneath her, pressing into her aching clit. Her mind tried to interfere with how her body was acting. She shut off all thought and focused on the fact she was about to have sex with Dylan Bennett. And she damn well wanted it.

  “Do you have a condom?” She ground herself against him and he groaned.

  “Yes, but I don’t know if I can even take my britches off without hurting myself.”

  She choked out a laugh and moved her hips back and forth. “I think we need to find a way.”

  “Damn straight.” The next few minutes were full of the logistics of getting her shorts off, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down far enough to release him from the cotton prison, and pulling his wallet from his pocket.

  She straddled him again, this time with the wind caressing her hot, bare flesh. He dipped his hand into her wetness and she shivered. So good. So very good.

  “You’re distracting me.” She opened the condom and slid it down the impressive length of his cock. It was like hot steel in her hands. She slid her fingers up and down, pleased by how he sucked in a breath.

  “Can’t have that.” His voice had dropped to a husky whisper.

  She positioned herself above him and guided the head of his staff inside her, inch by amazing inch. He filled her, stretched her with a pleasure-pain she’d never experienced.

  “You’re so fucking tight.” He licked at a nipple while his breath puffed out in a staccato rhythm.

  She used his wide shoulders to leverage herself up and down, the slow slide sending exquisite pinpricks of pleasure through her.

  “You’re killing me.” He took hold of her hips and increased the pace, pulling her down with enough force to bang her clit into his pelvic bone. Her eyes rolled back in her head when he did it a second time.