Gambling on a Secret (27 page)

He moved his lips along the column of her neck to the racing pulse. She moaned when he nipped at the sensitive skin and gently suckled it, not enough to mark, but enough to send fire dancing through her veins. She writhed under him as he caught and drew alternately on her nipples.

“Dylan, please...”

He moved from her breasts to her belly, lighting butterfly kisses on the hot surface. The muscles beneath bunched with anticipation. His hands weren’t idle–they were busy brushing along her inner thigh to find the center of the needy ache. She buried her hands in his hair as he gently parted her with his fingers to touch her.

When his lips and hot, wet tongue replaced his fingers, the orgasm came on her fast and furious like a summer thunderstorm. She shuddered, bucked against him, and moaned his name on a long breathy sigh. After bringing her gently down, he again brought her to the height of pleasure. Then again. She’d never have or need another orgasm. Then he kissed his way up her body.

He found her lips again and plunged his tongue into her mouth in a direct imitation of what would come next. She arched up into his body, eager to join with him, aching as if he hadn’t already given her the sweetest pleasure. He soon obliged by shifting and settling into the cradle of her pelvis.

When she met his heavy-lidded gaze, his eyes burned her alive. She placed her hands on either side of his ruggedly handsome face and wrapped her legs around him. He didn’t rush his entry as she’d expected him to. He stared down at her and slowly pushed himself into her starving body one incredible inch at a time, filling her to the core of her being. Buried in her body, he groaned and moved–pulling almost completely out before thrusting in again. Soon the coil twisted and lifted her up again.

When she tightened around him, his breath hitched, his strokes became faster, harder, and deeper, as though he wanted to fuse them together forever. Spasm after spasm seized her, and she clawed at his shoulders and back, clinging to him, afraid she would fall into nothingness.

He didn’t relent on the intense friction until he dove into her one last time and growled as his own release crashed over him.

When it was over, he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. She landed astride him in a tangle of legs and arms and a blanket of sweat-dampened hair.

They held each other while their hearts slowed, breathing evened, and senses returned.

Smiling, he brushed her hair from her face. “Now
that’s
what I wanted to do to you before.”

She returned his satisfied grin, but she didn’t have the strength yet, or the will, to lift her head from his chest. She enjoyed listening to the rhythm of his breathing and the hard, steady thump of his heart.

“I’m still trying to put my body back together.”

Tightening his hold around her back, he chuckled. The soft rumbling vibration caused her to shiver. She remembered the man she’d met not so long ago. The unsmiling, dead-eyed cowboy. The ex-soldier who’d blamed himself for the deaths of men under his direct command. She wasn’t sure what came about in Dylan that transformed him into a man who could smile and whose silver eyes now occasionally twinkled with fiery vitality. Whatever it was, she was happy to see it.

The memory of the last time she’d stripped before a man–or rather an entire room full of drunk, horny men who had watched from smoky tables–flickered into her mind. Her gut twisted as she remembered their degrading calls and leering eyes. For some reason, stripping for Dylan had been more sexually exciting than any foreplay she’d ever experienced.

Although she was certain she’d do it again for him, she prayed he never figured out where she learned her moves. He might forgive her for being a stripper, he might even forgive her for being a hooker, but helping to kill six men in cold blood... How could he forgive that when she couldn’t do so herself?

She stopped the flow of thoughts. The last thing she wanted was to deprive herself of this afterglow. Dear God, the man knew what he was doing in the bedroom.

She traced the sword, the beret and the Latin words of the Green Beret tat that had intrigued her since the first time she’d seen it.

“What does this mean?” She shifted over him and read the Latin words. “
De oppresso liber.”

He caught her hand and held it against his heart. “The translation isn’t perfect, but it roughly means ‘to free from oppression.’ The motto for the Special Forces.”

“To free from oppression.” She looked at him. “You really lived by that motto, didn’t you?”

He untucked his arm from under his head and rubbed the back of his fingers against her cheek. “I tried to.”

Not wanting to bring up bad memories, she looked at his right bicep, where he had the tattoo of a bald eagle with its wings spread and carrying the U.S. flag in its talons. She gently skimmed her fingertips over the flag, and the steel band of his bicep contracted with her touch. “Is this a Special Forces tat, also?”

“No. I got this one when I finished jump school.” He explained, “Parachute training. Before I joined the Special Forces and after my short stint in the Corps of Engineers, I was part of the Army Airborne.”

She sat up and stared at him. “You jumped out of airplanes?”

He laughed again deep in his chest. His fingers grazed over her exposed breasts, causing her to shiver with need all over again. “Yes, I jumped out of airplanes and helicopters, too, sometimes with food or tanks and other equipment falling with us. I think the longest jump I made was in Afghanistan when we jumped at thirty-thousand feet after I became a Delta.”

“You and the lingo.” She shook her head. “English, please. What’s a Delta?”

He touched the tip of his finger to her nose. “Special Forces. Delta Team. Green Berets. They’re all names for the same thing.”

“Now I know you’re crazy.” She shook her head. “I–I can’t imagine falling out of an airplane from thirty feet. I’m glad you don’t do that anymore.”

He raised a brow. “Would you be worried about me, Peaches? Worried my ’chute wouldn’t open?”

“Damn straight, I’d be worried. You
are
the father of my baby.” She lost the teasing tone. “But I’d also be proud of you because you were possibly sacrificing your own life for others.” When she stroked the tattoo on his chest again, the muscle underneath quivered. “Personally, I’m glad you gave up the green beret for a cowboy hat, even though the choice wasn’t completely yours or without a lot of heartache.”

He stared at her for a long moment. Sadness flashed across his rugged features. Had she overstepped by bringing up something so painful to him? Before she could apologize, he pulled her down on top of him again and kissed her thoroughly.

Soon they were free falling, but neither of them needed, nor wanted, a parachute.

* * * *

The next morning, Dylan knew he was in way over his head and the reason had nothing to with the mouthful of peach-scented, red, curly hair. He awoke early, as usual, but he didn’t get up to go riding around the ranch. No, this morning he held onto a real live angel who had the magical touch of turning the ugly things around her into butterflies.

Charli sprawled over his chest, warm, soft and sexy. He lightly pushed her hair out of his face and away from hers and watched her sleep. Damn, she looked so young. There was a twelve-year age difference between them. Deep down he knew he ought to marry her and raise their baby. After all, it was the
right
thing to do. How could he, though, when the
right
thing could very well be the
wrong
thing?

I won’t be trapped in a marriage for a child’s sake.

Her words still hurt. He was certain she felt something for him, but whether it was love or just lust, he didn’t know. He’d thought Brenda had loved him, too, when she’d come to see him off to Afghanistan the last time at Fort Benning, Georgia.

That night before he’d shipped out had been one of the most passionate he and his former wife had spent together. He’d been a fool not to realize she was telling him good-bye. She’d decided to leave him for her best friend. He’d read her Dear John letter so many times, he remembered every word.

I’m sorry, Dylan, but I can’t live like this anymore. I’m in love with Nicholas and we’re going to have a baby. I’ve tried to be a good wife. I even tried to love you again when I came to see you ship out.

But I couldn’t stop thinking you’ve spent most of our married lives on the other side of the world fighting someone else’s war. You never stopped to realize how much I wanted you here with me, or how much your not wanting kids hurt me. When I left you at Fort Benning, I realized I haven’t loved you for a very long time.

Wasn’t one one-sided marriage enough? Especially when he was the one left with the broken heart?

The sun rose over the trees and slanted warm sunlight between the curtains at the bay window. Splinters of light bounced off the dust particles floating in the glowing shaft.

Charli shifted, rubbing her soft body over the length of his, and purred like a cat as she woke. Damn, she was one hot number, even in the morning.

She mumbled something unintelligible and smiled brightly at him from under the tangle of hair.

He burst out laughing. When her smile faltered, he held her close. “You know this is the first time you’ve ever smiled at me in the morning and meant it–and it’s only a little after five. I must have done something right.”

The frown turned upside down and wicked. “Maybe you did.” Charli slithered up his body, touched him in all the right places, bringing him from semi to hard in a heartbeat.

She looked down into his face, and for a moment, he thought he saw a light in her two-toned eyes that hadn’t been there before. Could he be more to her than just another sex partner? Before hope could catch hold, she kissed him, and in one amazing motion, took him into her sweet, warm body.

An hour later, after they had taken a long shower together, he closed his jeans and came up behind her at the vanity in the bathroom. She finished blow-drying her hair and tried to tame the wild waist-length curls. With each stroke of her brush, he wanted to mess it all back up again.

She met his gaze through his reflection and smiled at catching him watching her. “What do you have planned for today?”

He shrugged. “I was thinking about taking a run up to the Fort Worth Livestock Auction. Check out what’s selling these days.”

She turned, her brow puckered. “Why?”

He couldn’t keep his hands off her and pulled her to him. “I want to check out some cattle for this place. Now that your stock is on the mend and we’ll soon have more than enough hay in and good pastures, I was thinking it might be a good time to look into getting more cattle. Ten thousand acres of range is a lot for a hundred calves and four horses.”

“Do you mind if I tag along? Last weekend, I saw the ad in the paper for the auction.” She grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “I’ll keep you company.”

He couldn’t hide his surprise. “I have a hard time imagining you at a dusty, smelly cattle auction.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and huffed. “Hell, Dylan, who do you think bought the calves in the first damned place? I’m no stranger to a livestock auction.”

He kissed her nose. “Okay, it’s an official date. You keep me from getting lonely, and I’ll spring for lunch while we’re there.”

“Wow, our first date is chilidogs at the Fort Worth Livestock Auction.”

Heat exploded up his neck like an oil well blowing its top. “I’m sorry I can’t afford to fly you to the Creek Inn.”

Her eyes widened, and then they burned him with green fire. “That wasn’t what I meant and you know it, you jerk. I was joking. I guess that’s not possible around you.”

Aww...shit.

Charli passed him and headed for the mussed bed. She tugged the sheet and blankets up in jerky, vicious motions.

Sighing, he ran his hands through his damp hair and moved in behind her. “I’m sorry. I just feel like I can’t–”

He cut himself off. The pompous asshole couldn’t give her what she needed either. Although he still was convinced that Leon’s attentions weren’t noble, she had to choose. “What do you really want, Charli?”

She faced him. “I want you to be a part of our baby’s life. I know what it was like to not have a father around. But I can’t force you to stay. I’m not going anywhere. This is my land. The real question is what do you want, Dylan?”

You.

He took hold of her upper arms. “I’m a first-class jerk who used to jump out of airplanes to fight other peoples’ wars. I don’t have a dime to my name, so I can’t offer you or our baby a damned thing, but...”
My love
.

“But what?”

He couldn’t say it, not when she didn’t feel the same for him. Maybe if he never spoke the words, he could protect his heart. “I want you, Charli, for as long as you’ll have me. I’m not going anywhere, either. I’ll help you any way I can to make this ranch profitable and a home for the baby.”

“Then let’s see what happens. If you want to stay here–at the house, I mean–you can. Or only part of the time.” He got the translation loud and clear–
Or when you want to share my bed.

He was making a huge mistake when it came to his heart. “You don’t mind all the tongue-wagging that’ll go on if we live together?”