Heated (6 page)

The remaining water lines they had to lay tomorrow made him think of Bianca naked and wanton as she worked the pipes.

He focused on the rodeo coming to town next month, but that turned to Bianca—gloriously naked in nothing but a Stetson and boots as she rode a bronco.

Kahron tried to ponder what he would fix for himself for dinner. No luck again. Images of Bianca spread eagle atop the island in the center of his kitchen made his thighs quiver and his shaft harden further.

He used his foot to push up the knob for the cold water. As the cold water began to dominate the heat, it was only then that he was able to relax as his erection eased and he found relief.

Shaking his head, he lowered himself until his silver head was submerged beneath the water.

Bianca eyes bore into her father until he was all she saw. Trishon and their dinner guest, Papa Doc, faded into nothing. The dining room darkened to black. She saw or heard nothing but her father.

And he was drunk.

“Pa–pa–pa–pa–pa… damn, you crazy, man.”

His stuttering was evidence of that. He only stuttered when he was drinking.

She had long since stopped pretending to eat Trishon’s dinner of spaghetti made with chunks of spam. Bianca would stare at him until he met her eyes—something he hadn’t done since she first bore her eyes into him.

“Bianca, it’s good to see you,” Papa Doc said in that loud and booming voice of his. He and Hank were similar in build and when they were younger people thought them to be brothers. They were the best of friends and both knew they could rely on each other. “I remember when you were a little girl, running behind your Daddy and me. Daddy’s little girl.”

“I’m all grown now, Papa Doc,” Bianca said, her eyes still locked on her father.

The room went quiet.

Hank looked over at Bianca and then quickly looked back down at his plate as he folded his arms on the table. “You’ll always be my little girl,” he said.

Bianca said nothing. She got what she wanted for tonight. She wanted him to look her in the face when he knew she was fully aware that he was drinking. He did that. She just rose from her chair and walked from the room.

Her steps carried her right out of the house and down the steps to her car.

Bianca had no idea where she was going. All she knew was that she wanted away from her father and that house. She turned the key in the ignition and the motor purred to life.

What more did she have to do to make him be the father that she once knew and loved to distraction?

How much more money did she have to spend?

How much time away from her life in Atlanta would she have to give up?

How long would she have to pretend that it didn’t piss her off how he sat back and let Trishon turn their home into some tribute to gaudiness?

How long would he choose liquor over her?

Why had his love for her faded when her mother died?

Bianca didn’t even realize she was crying until she tasted the saltiness of her tears.

She didn’t realize that she was headed straight to Kahron, until she parked in front of his house.

Without giving herself a chance to think twice, she turned off the car and raced up the stairs. She used the tail of her t-shirt to wipe the tears from her face before she knocked on the door.

For what seemed long moments, Bianca stood there.

Suddenly a cool draft kissed her face as the door swung open.

6

Kahron stood there, looking down at Bianca in surprise, as he held together the edges of the chocolate towel draped loosely around his waist with one strong grasp. “Bianca, hey, uhm, yeah, hey, come on in,” he said, seeming a little put off.

Bianca eyes darted down to his towel and her cheeks reddened. “Wow,” she said huskily, lowly, like in reverence.

She didn’t think. She just reacted. She followed an instinct. A desire. A want.

Bianca jumped up onto Kahron, wrapping her legs and arms around him as she pressed her lips to his with a wild moan that was a tad bit savage in nature.

Kahron’s eyes widened as he stumbled backwards, nearly losing his footing as his arms flayed out comically. He held them out to his side to gather his balance as Bianca began to suckle his lips like she was thirsty.

He reached out with one masculine hand to make the door swing close solidly. When he felt the draft against his privates Kahron realized his towel was no longer
around him.

He felt his nature rise and lengthen in one swift action as Bianca sought and found a spot behind his ear to stroke with her tongue.

“Bianca. Bianca. B–b–b–b–… damn,” he swore, enjoying himself, but definitely conflicted.

Something just didn’t feel right. It was all
too
freaky—a first for him. She was wild and anxious, sucking deeply on his neck.

“Ow,” he howled out as she nipped too deeply. “Alright, baby, take it easy.”

With his arm securely around her waist he bent over to scoop up his towel and then walked into his living room with Bianca still writhing wildly against his body in a decidedly distracting fashion.

She purred as she again moved to capture his lips with her own. “Come on, Kahron. This is what you want. You know it is.”

“Oh hell yeah,” he said, without thinking.

Bianca unwrapped her legs and slid down his body, smiling as her legs tightened around each side of his erection hanging awkwardly from his body like a thick limb. She stepped back to tear her T-shirt over her head to fling away.

Kahron’s mouth shaped into an
O
as he grimaced in pure appreciation of the sight she made in her lacy brassiere. He hurried to cover himself with the towel. It tented around his hardened penis. He held out his hand to her as she stepped toward him. “No,” he shouted.

Bianca jumped on him again and they went flying backwards onto the couch.

Bianca looked down into Kahron’s handsome face and she saw his confusion. “Don’t you want me?” she asked, hating the emotions that began to build in her chest.

Anger. Frustration. Pain.

Her eyes filled with tears.

Sadness. Disappointment. Frustration.

The tears fell.

Kahron’s face filled with concern. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked as he used his thumbs to wipe the tears.

“Can we just do this?” she asked in a resigned tone, as she sniffled.

“Not like this. No,” he immediately countered.

Bianca rose from his lap to walk over and retrieve her T-shirt from where it hang on the lampshade. She pulled it over her head slowly, as if drained of energy.

Kahron secured the towel around his waist as he moved over to her and turned her to gather her into his arms. He pressed her face against the smoothness of his chest as he lightly sat his chin atop her head.

Bianca inhaled the scent of masculine soap and enjoyed the comfort of his arms. It felt so good to be held, or rather held up.

And in the shelter of his arms—this man who was really no more than a stranger to her—she gave in to all the long buried emotions, and she cried that kind of gut wrenching cry like a child, her body wracked with the tears. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held onto him for dear life.

Kahron rocked her gently as she gave in to the sadness he saw in her eyes from the very beginning. There were stories behind the tears. Stories he wanted to hear.
Stories he wanted to help her forget.

As she squeezed a bit closer and buried her face deeper against his chest, his body began to betray him. As his loins stirred to life again, Kahron pulled his lower half away from hers, hoping she wouldn’t feel his erection.

It was so childish, but Bianca made him feel that way.

He could have easily made love to her tonight, but he wanted more from her than that. Standing here holding her as she felt safe enough to give in to her emotions made him feel more alive and more wanted than someone looking to him as a sexual conquest.

Even as her tears began to subside, he didn’t want to release her. He liked the feel of this woman in his arms. In his life. In his home.

Bianca tilted her head and looked up at him with a soft smile on her splendid lips and mouthed, “thank you.”

His heart flipped and he knew he was in trouble.

Bianca stepped back out of Kahron’s arms. “I’m sorry I went a little crazy,” she told him as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s okay,” he told her. “You wanna talk about it?”

Bianca shrugged a little. “Yes… no… I don’t know. It’s so many things I’ve just kept inside for a long time, you know. I guess it all just bubbled to the surface tonight.”

Kahron nodded as he stood there with his hands on his hips and that devilish towel gaped open at the thigh. “I’m here to listen whenever you’re ready.”

Bianca looked at him—really looked at him—and her mouth gaped open a bit as she felt her throat go dry.

His chest was broad and square with a fine sprinkle of hair that narrowed to his rigid abdomen. Another tattoo—this one a panther—was on his angular hip bone just above the rim of that towel. As thick and plush as that towel was, the lengthy member that hung between his thighs was clearly outlined.

She recalled the first time they kissed and she felt it press into her body with importance.
Uhm, uhm, uhm…

“Listen, I was just about to make me something to eat. Wanna join me?”

She didn’t want to go back to that house. Not yet. Dinner with a handsome man was a good reason not to return. She needed the time to process the fact that her father had broken his word to her yet again.

She felt comfortable around Kahron. Although she wasn’t one hundred percent sure he wasn’t behind sabotaging the ranch, she wasn’t one hundred percent sure that he was, either. Maybe tonight she could get some insight to the man. Maybe she could pick up some clues to his involvement. Maybe she could just enjoy his company after he comforted her through an emotional breakdown.

“No, I’m gone head home,” she said instead. She had to stop running from her drama with her father.

Kahron locked those hawklike eyes on her. “You can trust me, Bianca,” he told her after long moments where his eyes perused hers.

Bianca licked her full lips and tilted her head to the side a bit as she looked at him. “My gut says the same thing,” she admitted softly, even as she shrugged.

He pulled her into his arms and Bianca tilted her head back for the kiss she knew he was going to bless her with. She wasn’t disappointed. Her arms snaked around his waist as his lips touch down upon hers again and
again and again.

They moaned as they deepened it. They kissed each other with a tender yet passionate groove that left them both trembling.

“Aaah, you are so damn sexy, Kahron Strong,” Bianca admitted against his lips before dropping her head to rest lightly against his chest. “But I gotta go before I jump all over you again.”

Kahron nodded and released her with reluctance. “Let me take you to dinner,” he offered, a smile at the corner of his mouth.

Bianca stepped back from him and felt the loss of his body’s warmth. “I’m so busy with the ranch. Some other drama going on right now. I, uhm… I don’t know. Let me think about it, okay?”

“Offer stands.”

“Duly noted.”

“You’ve struck me down twice.”

“Third time’s the charm.”

“Duly noted as well.”

“You don’t have to walk me out,” she told him as she moved to the door and pulled it open.

Hershey jogged into the room and looked between Bianca and her master.

When she looked back over her shoulder Kahron was standing with his hands on his hips, his erection clearly tenting the towel. He had the nerve to wink.

All Bianca could do was fan herself as she closed the door behind her.

Hank sat in his study. The room was dark as midnight, save for the lamp on the corner of his desk. The house was quiet. Papa Doc had gone on home and Tri
shon was upstairs watching television.

It was just him and his demons.

He licked his lips as he pulled the bottle of gin closer to him. He craved it. He needed it.

A vision of the look on Bianca’s face tonight stopped him from opening it.

He truly loved his little girl. He hadn’t meant to run her away. He needed her and he was glad she was home.

You need the booze more
.

“No,” he roared at his innermost thoughts, knocking the bottle down with his hand.

It fell and then spent, slowly coming to a stop with the cap of bottle facing him.

His mouth watered and his hands shook.

I promise you I will fix this but I need my Daddy. I need you to be the man you were before Mama died. It’s either that liquor or me and this ranch. The choice is yours.

When his wife died a piece of him died with her and the rest he kept numb with booze. He knew he was wrong to rely on Bianca to pick up his slack as he drank away the pain of losing his wife. He knew that, but the liquor made him uncaring.

His breathing became shallow and his heart pumped furiously as his eyes bore into that bottle that seemed to mock him, call to him, complete him.

He wanted it so badly.

It’s either that liquor or me and this ranch. The choice is yours.

He really tried to stop. He did. But the cravings overrode his rationale.

His business was in a shambles. His relationship with his daughter strained. His life a mess.

The look in her eyes tonight burned a hole through
his soul.

I need my Daddy.

Hank began to weep.

Bianca entered the house and was headed up the stairs when she heard a noise from the study. She turned and headed that way. As she came to the open door, she saw her father sitting with his head down on the desk. Her eyes didn’t miss the bottle of alcohol.

Vaguely she noted it was full as she walked into the room, flipping up the switch by the door to bask it with light. Her father’s head rose and she saw the tears wetting his face. She wasn’t moved. As a child she had been spectacle to many a drunken weep fest.

“We had a deal,” she began in a cold voice—a mask to the pain she felt. “Why shouldn’t I pack up and leave you here in this mess you call a life? I have my own business. My own home. A good life in Atlanta. Why… am… I… here?”

Hank wiped his face with his beefy hands. “I need you.”

Bianca frowned. “You haven’t needed me since Mama died.”

“It was hard for me when she died, Bianca.”

“Yes, but I didn’t die with her.”

The room became silent.

Bianca walked to the bar and picked up two glasses, bringing them back to the desk as she took a seat. “Do you think I loved my mother like you?” she asked, as she picked up the bottle, opened it, and poured the liquor into the glasses.

Hank looked confused. “Of course you did.”

“Do you think I miss her like you?” Bianca asked as she set one glass in front of him and the other in front of herself.

“I know you do.”

“Then how come only you get to numb the pain by being a drunk?” Bianca asked bitterly. “Let’s both cop out and take the easy road. Drink up. We’ll be two drunks together.”

“Don’t play with me, Bianca.”

She picked up her glass and raised it in toast as she locked her eyes with his. “Who’s playing?”

Hank reached out and knocked the glass from Bianca’s hand, sending the glass flying across the room and some of the liquor into her lap.

He covered his face with both his hands. “I need help, Bianca. I can’t… I can’t… do it.”

Bianca’s heart broke at his admission. She rose and walked around the desk to gather him into her strong arms. “Then help is what you’ll get, Daddy. I promise.”

Bianca closed the brochures from the Oceanfront Clinic that she was reading. It was a pretty name for the upscale and exclusively private rehab center located in Hilton Head. It was her father’s home—and she hoped his haven—during his reocvery. One hour ago Trishon and she returned after getting him settled at the facility, which looked more like a resort community.

Once her father asked for the help, Bianca got on the phone with a psychologist friend of hers back in Atlanta, and he had immediately recommended the Oceanfront Clinic. She called their twenty-four-hour hotline and was able to get him admitted immediately. After giving her father some private time to clue his wife in, Bianca had been more than anxious to make the
hour-long ride that same night.

That man she left in that facility was but a shell of her father. She hoped she would recognize him again when his inpatient treatment was completed.

For now, well, for now she had to support her father through his rehabilitation, continue her efforts to at least
tolerate
Trishon—who grated her last nerve—and start her plan to get his business back on track.

Suddenly any plans to move back to Holtsville were firm. She still had to decide what to do with her practice. She wasn’t sure if she would close it or sell it to the two vets she had on staff—if either were interested. Or she could just open a South Carolina office and keep her stake in the one in Atlanta. Decisions still to be made.

She set the catalogs atop her stack of
Equine Veterinary Journal
s before she turned off the lights and huddled under the satiny covers on her side. As was normal of late, as soon as her eyes closed she thought of Kahron. This time he was naked in a bathtub filled with whipped cream and it was her duty—and her pleasure—to lick every delicious inch of him clean. And she meant
every
inch.