Dare to be Dirty (The Dirty Girls Book Club #2) (26 page)

She made a frustrated sound, then whipped off her clothes. And then, like a kid reaching out for a special treat, she leaned over and stretched both hands toward his cock.

He started to take his hand away, to let her take over.

She surprised him by capturing his hand and holding it there, with both her own hands cupped around it. “Let’s do it together. Show me what feels good.”

“Being inside you would feel good.”

“But I want to see you come like this.”

Arousal shuddered through him, the fierce need to pump faster and faster until he climaxed, hard and hot. Unable to resist, he stroked his hand up and down, hers going with it, holding his fingers tight against his slick, swollen shaft.

Kim’s face was flushed, her gaze focused intently on what they were doing.

Ty’s balls tightened, the ache of needing to come a fierce pressure. Everything in him focused on the surge of climax, then he let go. His come spurted out in jets across his belly. He groaned with pleasure and relief, riding those sensual highs.

Finally, his muscles began to relax. He studied Kim’s face as she released her clasp on his hand, then he let go of his cock.

Her eyes glittered. “That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” she breathed.

“It felt pretty damned sexy too.”

He forced strength into his muscles and rose partially, enough to tumble her. Quickly, he swiped an edge of the blanket across his damp chest before leaning over her. “And when it comes to sexy, nothing beats this pretty body.”

Then he bent down, committed to giving her the same pleasure she’d just given him. Her pussy was soaking wet, and when he licked her cream she whimpered and ground against him, letting him know how turned on she was. He thrust two fingers inside her, plunging them in and out with a spiraling motion, reaching every intimate, hidden part of her.

“Come for me, Kim.” He closed his lips on her clit, flicked his tongue across it, and sucked.

She cried out, high and shrill as a bird, and climaxed in powerful, shuddering spasms.

* * *

L
ying naked on the blanket, Kim’s slim body in his arms and the scent of hay in the air, Ty noted the quality of light outside the barn window. The afternoon was fading. He wondered if Kim was up for a ride. Sharing his favorite parts of Ronan Ranch with her made him feel . . . He wasn’t sure how to describe it. Proud? No, not exactly. Contented? That came closer.

But when he rolled on his side to face her and asked, “Feel like going for a short ride before dinner?” a quick frown crossed her face before she banished it.

She sat up, naked and beautiful, a slant of sun through the window glinting across her black hair with its purple and orange streaks. “Sure.”

“Hey, if you don’t feel like it, it’s okay.”

“No, I do. I really enjoyed it last week.”

“But?”

Twenty-six

K
im gave a quick toss of her spiky hair. “Nothing. It was just, you’d mentioned maybe helping me with my business plan.”

“I thought we could put the morning aside tomorrow, do it when we’re fresh.”

Her face lit. “Really?”

“Sure.”

Her smile widened. “A whole morning? Ty, that’s generous. And yes, I’d love to go for a ride with you.”

He did a quick cleanup in the small toilet-sink bathroom in the barn while she went into the house to change into jeans.

Dressed in riding gear, Kim joined him as he tied the horses to the hitching rail.

“Hi, Dawn, it’s good to see you again.” She approached the palomino the way he’d instructed her last week, and stroked her, crooning something close to her ear. Then she looked up and nodded toward the bay gelding. “Who’s her friend?”

“He’s Rambler, the horse that’s going to TJ at the Crazy Horse.”

“The rescue horse. Can I touch him?”

“Sure.”

She approached the bay more slowly than with Dawn, murmuring sweet nothings to him. The horse’s ears perked forward with interest, and Ty smiled when Kim stroked him and he arched his neck happily.

While she talked to the horses, he saddled and bridled them, then they headed out on a different trail from last weekend’s. Not that there was a lot of variety to the scenery, unless your eye was fine-tuned to nature.

Rambler did well. Ty had ridden him on these trails before, always alone, but the horse had no problem being with Dawn and Kim.

As for Kim, after the first few minutes, she looked relaxed, moving fluidly with Dawn. If she was staying in Vancouver, he’d make a rider of her.

But she wasn’t.

She’d only been to Ronan Ranch twice, and he knew she didn’t belong here—and didn’t want to belong here. He also knew that his days were lighter for having her here.

She lifted her face to the late afternoon sun, gazed about alertly, and seemed content to ride in silence.

What was she thinking? When she was back home in that crowded, bustling Asian city she loved, would she remember this? Would she find moments of peace in the middle of her busy life, thinking about being here with him? And how often would he think of her? Miss her?

Figuring she’d enjoy watching the sunset at dinner, he headed them back to the ranch and made quick work of dealing with the horses.

“Hungry?” he asked as he and Kim walked up the back steps of his house, arms around each other’s waists.

“Starving.”

“Country air and exercise have that effect.” They took off their footwear in the mudroom, then went into the kitchen. “You eat beef, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thought you might like to try our Black Angus.” He opened the fridge and lifted out a long rectangular pan wrapped in plastic. “I got these marinating.” He peeled off the wrap to reveal skewers with cubes of beef interspersed with pearl onions and chunks of green and orange bell peppers. “We could cook up rice or potatoes, or I have half a loaf of Mom’s bread.”

“The bread would be great. Especially when I can relax and really enjoy it.”

“Yeah. Sorry about my folks.” He headed out to light the barbecue.

She followed. “My parents would be worse, if they met you.”

An unusual emotion—anger—nipped at him. “Am I that bad?” he asked, unable to keep a trace of bitterness from his voice.

“Of course not! You’re fantastic.” With a hint of wistfulness, she said, “If you were Chinese, living in Hong Kong, running a company rather than a ranch, they’d adore you.”

And so would Kim. He snorted. “Then I wouldn’t be me.”

“You’d still be strong and smart, handsome, responsible, successful, caring, loyal to your family, kind to the neighborhood kids and to broken-backed rodeo cowboys.”

“Dusty told you about that?” With mixed emotions, Ty scraped the barbecue grill. Kim thought he was all those nice things? Yet he wasn’t good enough for her to consider as more than a fling, or to take home to her parents. Not, of course, that he wanted to be taken home, to move to Hong Kong and adopt her way of life.

What the hell was going on with him? He’d never felt so confused over a woman.

“Dusty said there’s some kind of code among rodeo cowboys,” Kim said. “But it’s more than that. You’d have given him a chance anyhow, because you’re that kind of guy.” She said it with certainty, and of course she was right.

He put the skewers on the grill, where they sizzled, a bit like his own volatile emotions. After closing the lid, he turned to Kim. “Your parents still think you’re with Henry?”

She nodded.

“Have you even told them you and I are friends?”

“No.”

He frowned. On that list of attributes about him, she hadn’t included honesty. But that was a big one for him. It was how he’d been raised. Kids should respect their parents, and Kim seemed to, but to him respect and deceit didn’t sit well together.

“What’s the point?” she defended herself. “It would just upset them.”

His jaw clenched. “You’re saying I’m not important to you.” Even as he spoke the words, he felt like a whiny teenage girl.

“That’s not true!” Her vehement denial sounded sincere.

But how could he judge? Clearly, she was an expert at deception.

“Look,” she said, “I know it’s hard for someone from the West to understand.”

“Right. Only Henry really understands you.” It was probably true, damn it. Everything about Kim confused Ty.

“Ty, don’t be mad. Where’s this coming from?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, I know we’re just casual, until you go back
home
.” He couldn’t stop himself from putting a snarky emphasis on that last word.

“Your parents are right that I’m not the woman for you.” Her eyes narrowed with an emotion he couldn’t read. “My parents, if they knew, would feel exactly the same, and they’d be right too. You and I both know that. Right? So I don’t get why you’re upset.”

She looked so earnest, so pretty, so colorful, so . . . Kim, he couldn’t stay mad. “Yeah, you’re right. Except sometimes, you and me, it feels like . . . more. Like it could be more.”

Her dark eyes went kind of melty. “Oh, Ty, I feel that way too.”

She did? Really? They stared at each other. If Kim had feelings for him, then—

She blinked and said firmly, “But it can’t be. We both know that. We’re realists. We can be lovers, we can be good friends, but we can’t let it get any deeper than that.”

The cold, hard truth. Recognizing it, he sighed. “Hell, yeah, I know. This isn’t some sappy romance novel where people from different worlds somehow, magically, get a solution that makes everything turn out.”

One corner of her mouth kinked up, but without a hint of humor. “That’s for sure.” She squared her slender shoulders. “But it’s up to us to enjoy the time we spend together and create our own happy ending. Like, maybe we’ll stay in touch after I go home.”

Did he want to? A sizzling sound made him remember the barbecue. He opened it and turned the skewers. “Almost done. Want to grab plates and pour some wine?”

“Sure.” She went into the kitchen.

Alone, he mused about staying in touch. How would he feel, getting wedding pictures? Would she wear white, or was red traditional for Chinese women—or would she go for something less conventional? Maybe paint butterflies on her dress? Streak her hair? He thought about his parents’ and grandparents’ wedding photos, where each bride’s personal style was reflected. He hoped Kim married a man who wanted her to do that.

Except, he didn’t want to know who that man was. The man she would let herself love, the one her parents would approve of, the one she’d build her future with.

“Ty?” she called. “Want me to bring you a glass of wine?”

Damn, he’d forgotten the kebobs again. “No, just the plates, thanks.” Hurriedly, he opened the grill and removed the skewers, as Kim arrived with plates to put them on.

In the kitchen they sliced chunks of bread and buttered it, picked up glasses of red wine, then headed out to the front porch. The sun was halfway down, the blue sky streaked with orange. They settled side by side in padded Adirondack chairs.

Ty hoped Kim didn’t say anything more about staying in touch. Maybe he’d change his mind, but at the moment he figured that when she left, that should be that. Out of sight, out of . . . Would he ever get her out of his mind?

“This is so good,” she said.

He glanced over, saw that she’d tasted her kebob. “Glad you like it.” He ate a bite, pairing meat with a tender, sweet pearl onion. Yeah, it tasted fine. But his mind drifted back to something his mother had said. “Mom made a strange remark the other day.”

“Let me guess. About me?”

“More about me, I think.” He took a sip of wine. “She was on at me about finding a wife and settling down. I said I hadn’t met anyone yet, so why not hang around with you? Then she said maybe it was avoidance, but she wouldn’t tell me what she meant.”

“Seeing me is avoidance? Like, if you spend time with me, it keeps you from looking for someone . . . more suitable.” Her mouth twisted. “I could see my parents thinking that.”

“Maybe that was it.”

“Or maybe,” she said reflectively, then stopped. “No, I’m no amateur shrink.” She sipped her wine and gazed out at the sunset.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

She shrugged, still staring at the sky. “Your birth mother walked out on you and Brand. Your dad went through a rough time, but Betty came along. He had the guts to fall for her and risk his heart again, which couldn’t be easy.” She glanced toward him, then away. “Your birth mom abandoned you too.”

Was she saying he was a coward, afraid to fall for a woman for fear she’d leave? “I was a kid,” he scoffed. “I got over that long ago.”

“Have you ever fallen in love?”

“Uh, not really.”

“Why not?”

“Jeez, Kim, it’s an emotion. You feel it or you don’t.”

“Do you even know what it feels like?”

Did he? Was it like when you looked at a woman being gentle with a damaged horse, and you wanted to pick her up and hold on to her forever? But no, he wasn’t in love with Kim, and he wouldn’t let himself be. Besides, she picked on him. “Do you?” he parried.

“I thought I did, with Henry. And with a boy when I was eighteen. But in both cases, it just kind of . . . fizzled. I guess I’m a little confused.”

There was a lot of that going around. “So, what are you avoiding?” He tossed out the challenge.

It took her a moment to answer. “Fair comment. I don’t think I’m avoiding anything. I want to love and be loved, to build a life with someone. But Ty, I’m twenty-four and I’ve thought I was in love twice. You’re five years older, and you’ve never felt that way.”

“I’ve been with loads of women.”

“Buckle bunnies. Maybe that’s avoidance too.”

Damn, she could be annoying. “It’s hot sex.”

By rights, her temper should be rising too, but Kim surprised him as she often did. “And hot sex can be great. But Ty, you’re a special guy. You have a huge heart. You give it to your parents, to broken-down cowboys, to disadvantaged kids, to damaged horses. Why have you never given it to a woman?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but had no idea what to say. Instead, he used his mom’s bread to mop up some kebob juice from his plate, then took longer than he needed to chew.

Kim went back to her own meal and they ate in silence. A truce, he figured, and was glad she’d dropped the troubling subject.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her stifle yawns. Finally, she put her empty plate aside, finished the last of her wine, and relaxed back in her chair. “The stars are coming out,” she said drowsily.

The sun was down, the sky a dark blue against which the first stars gleamed. There was nothing like an evening sky to mellow his mood. He turned to ask Kim if she wanted more wine.

She was asleep, curled in the chair with her legs tucked up and her head resting on the cushion tied to the back. She looked small, delicate, almost vulnerable. She looked . . . The word his mom used to describe baby animals flashed into his mind.
Adorable.

If he woke her, she’d flip a switch and be on. She’d help with dishes, be happy to have sex with him. She liked to please people. Even when she challenged him, she did it nicely and backed down when she saw he was uncomfortable.

The dragonfly girl was normally so animated. Seeing her like this sent a soft wave of tenderness rippling through him. He wanted to look after her. She was worn-out from the fresh air, the unaccustomed setting, and a couple of rounds of sex.

He rose and eased her into his arms where she nestled against him with a sleepy sound of contentment. Being careful not to jostle her, he went inside and up to his bedroom. He bent to pull back the duvet then laid her gently on the sheet. Knowing she wouldn’t want to sleep in jeans, he managed to get them off her. She stirred, but didn’t wake. He decided to leave well enough alone and not take off her top or panties.

After tucking the duvet around her shoulders, he studied her head as it rested on his pillow. Normally so vibrant and expressive, her face was equally beautiful when it was relaxed in sleep.

Down he went to tidy up the dishes, smiling at the thought of returning to bed and sliding in beside her.

* * *

K
im woke to pale light, air that smelled green and fresh, and birdsong coming through the screened open window. Stretching contentedly, remembering some very hot middle-of-the-night sex and hoping for another round, she rolled over.

And found herself alone in Ty’s big bed. The bedside clock said five thirty. Ty had promised they’d work on her business plan, so probably he was trying to do some chores first.

Awake now, and never much of a one for lazing in bed, she rose and pulled on the first thing that came to hand, Ty’s discarded shirt. Curling up in the chair by the window, she checked her cell.

There was a text from Marielle and—no surprise—e-mail from Kim’s mom.

Marielle’s message read,
Having fun riding cowboy Ty? Bet he’s hotter than Dirk Zamora!

Chuckling, Kim texted back,
Hot, hotter, hottest!