Kickin' Up Dust: Operation Cowboy, Book 1 (9 page)

As his lips closed around the bud, her eyes rolled back in her head. This was what she was missing with Wayne—the passion. Unadulterated need. All the Mr. Nice Guys in the world were worth nothing without it.

She gasped as Brodie sucked her into his mouth. His tongue circled her nipple. His fingers worked her other breast, kneading and pinching the tip until she made unearthly noises. Then he shifted to her other breast.

For long minutes he worked her into a frenzy under the hot Texas sun. When she couldn’t hold still, he whipped off his shirt and dropped it to the ground. “Lie down on that.”

Heart tripping, she obeyed. His tone commanded her senses. Men had followed this man in battle. She could see why.

He followed her down, covering her with his bare chest. The instant his hot flesh met hers, they both stopped dead. Brodie buried his face against her neck, breathing hard. She cradled his nape, praying he wouldn’t stop now.

“Danica…sweet Jesus.” He raked his five o’clock shadow over her throat, up her jaw, and kissed her with a violence that spurred her to a higher plane of need.

She hooked her leg around his back, drawing his cock against her pussy.

“Fuck, I can’t. I can’t.” His chant came time and again as he kissed between her breasts, down to her waistband. In seconds he had her jeans wiggled down her hips and her pussy exposed.

“Holy hell,” he ground out as he looked at her smooth mound. Then he dipped his head and delivered a lick right over her swollen clit.

Dark, erotic flavors hit Brodie’s taste buds, and he was helpless to resist. He buried his tongue deeper, gliding it down her sweet slit right to her core. Her jeans weren’t down far enough, but he could remedy that.

As he tasted her slick need, he bared her further. With his fingers splayed on her inner thighs, he opened her to him. When he dunked his tongue deep into her pussy, she threw her head back and released a throaty scream.

The sound burrowed into his mind, something to replay later when he’d found his damned mind again.

Zigzagging his tongue down her pussy lips, he felt her tension in the quiver of her thighs. He probed her opening. She groaned. And he eased inside. Fuck, he was going to come just by tasting her. She was so damn sweet and needy.

And he was an idiot. While kissing down her body, he’d realized his wallet lay at home on his dresser. Which meant no condom.

Probably just as well—he shouldn’t be touching her at all. But he couldn’t stop this galloping horse either.

He withdrew his tongue and flicked light caresses up to her clit. She grappled at his hair, and he found his hat was gone, lost in the grass. He opened his mouth wide and covered her whole pussy in one big bite. Sucking lightly, flicking his tongue. Driving her crazy.

“Brodie. God, yessss.” She bucked into his tongue.

Stealing a peek at her face only threatened to undo him again. Her blissed-out expression would haunt him as much as her begging tone. Her thighs shook and her belly dipped. Ragged breaths left her.

He painted her clit with slow strokes of his tongue. With each pass, her nipple hardened. When he felt the first contraction of her pussy, he couldn’t stop himself—he thrust a finger deep.

She shook harder, pulling his hair, grinding against his lips and finger and tongue.

And came with a soul-shuddering cry. He lapped her faster, taking her higher and wishing it were more. Wishing he could shove inside her still-pulsating body.

“More. More.” Her voice was strained. He looked up her body and met her blurred-eyed gaze. He pumped his finger into her sweet heat once more. Throwing her head back, she cried out.

Fuck, why did she need to be so perfect? He wanted her unlike any woman he’d ever had. His balls ached and his cock bulged against his fly, demanding exit. But if he took his dick out of his pants, he couldn’t hold himself back. He’d want to sink into her tight, lush body over and over.

Without a condom, that wasn’t happening.

He had to stop now. Eating out your buddy’s sister was better behavior that full-on sex, right?

In the back of his mind, Matt was already telling him off. He was supposed to protect her, not ravish her in the damn pasture. And all because of his stupid need to possess. To lock her up and keep her away from the schoolteacher.

He wasn’t going to let her give herself less than full value. She deserved the kind of man who would put a grin on her face and a sway in her step. In the recesses of his mind, his inner alpha was roaring victory right now. But this was temporary. She wouldn’t be happy with a man like him for long.

Matt was probably seething down from heaven, organizing a bus to come through town so he could throw Brodie under the wheels.

Pushing away, he got to his knees. Danica lay sprawled in the grass, her breasts thrust upward, her belly ring glinting in the sun. A lazy smile stretched her lips, and his heart tugged—hard.

He cloaked her with his body, allowing himself the pleasure of skin on skin. When he kissed her, damn it if she didn’t swirl her tongue over his lips, moaning as she obviously tasted herself.

He had barely uncovered her inner wildcat. He wanted more—now.

It took everything in him to withdraw from her. But he pushed away and got to his feet. He had to get some distance or lose it. “I’m sorry, Squirt.”

Her eyes cleared, the sexual haze gone, and he instantly regretted his words. “Don’t fucking call me that.”

One of the worst moments of his life was seeing her grasp the open sides of her top over her breasts as if with embarrassment. She buttoned two buttons then dragged her jeans and panties into place. When she stood, she presented her back. Seconds later, she twisted to face him. All those curves were tucked away again.

His heart beat a tempo of remorse. “I shouldn’t have touched you.”

For a heart-rending minute she gave him a cold stare.

He reached toward her, but she recoiled. “Look, I got carried away. I can’t do this with you, Danica.”

“Fuck you, Brodie.” She stuck two fingers into her mouth and issued a piercing whistle. Her mare responded by trotting to her. Without a backward glance, Danica swung into the saddle and rode off, leaving him alone with only the flavors of her sweet release on his lips.

He bent and scooped up her cowgirl hat, which had fallen off in the throes of their passion.
Dammit.
He may know how to handle an enemy, but he was sure fucking up the way he dealt with his loved ones.

Chapter Six

As kids, Danica and Matt had built a treehouse. She’d borne blisters on her fingers for a week from hammering before Matt had finally insisted she wear gloves. She couldn’t say she was a huge help, and the other guys had pitched in to finish.

But she’d put the homey touches on it. When she’d dragged a cooler and ice all the way up there, the boys had laughed at her. Until she’d produced a plastic jug of sweet tea and dispensed the cool drink in tiny paper cups.

She looked around the old structure, surprised it was still sturdy enough to hold her weight. Birds flitted by the window cut into the side. When she moved closer to watch their antics in the branches, she caught a glimpse of silver.

Reaching down, she put a finger over the chain and tugged. The chain slid across the floor, followed by the silver tags she never wanted to see again.

Oh God.
Tears burst from her as she folded Matt’s dog tags in her palm. The walls seemed to close around her. She couldn’t breathe.

She bolted upright in bed, gasping. Her chest heaved and her face was wet with the tears she’d shed in her dream. She opened her palms, but they were empty. She dropped her head to her knees and focused on breathing slow and deep. But the tangled sheets were too hot, the walls of her room too constricting.

What she needed was a breath of cool night air.

She got out of bed and in the blue light cast by the moon, she located some jeans and a hoodie. Creeping out of the house in the wee hours of the morning was much easier as an adult. She made it onto the front porch, where she paused to sit and put on her boots.

Then she was walking, crossing the field that seemed to be alive with moonlight and shadows. Her family’s land had a little bit of everything—rolling fields, a valley with a creek that sometimes flooded its banks in a really wet season, and a small wood that sat between their land and the Bells’.

The tornado had left all untouched, but she hadn’t visited the woods since that fateful storm. Maybe the treehouse hadn’t survived the high winds. Part of her hoped it hadn’t.

When she first stepped into the tree line, her heart lodged in her throat. So many good memories of her brother here. Of all of them—talking and bickering. Playing cards. Cheating at cards. She stifled a teary sound when she thought about how much Matt had let her get away with.

Damn, she missed him.

As she navigated the path, she searched the treetops for the familiar walls. When the square edge came into view, she quickened her pace. A rope ladder dangled to the ground, but she wasn’t about to trust a rope that had been in the elements for fifteen years. She hitched her foot on a branch and began pulling herself up.

The trapdoor was slightly ajar. She pictured a family of raccoons living up there, and stopped.

Two heartbeats passed. The branch holding her weight protested with a
crack.

A hand appeared in the opening. Her heart squeezed so hard she thought she might be dying. A strangled cry left her as the second hand appeared, followed by a face. She let go of the branch she was holding and started to slip.

“Danica. Jesus Christ.” Brodie’s rough voice confused her further, and she twisted to look at the ground for the source.

But strong hands closed around her wrists and she was hauled up over the lip of the trapdoor. She sprawled over him, sending them both toppling backward into what would have been considered both living room and kitchen back in the old days.

“Are you…real?” Her own words sounded so childish, a wave of heat washed her cheeks. Thank God it was too dark for him to see and tease her.

She shook herself. Who cared? Sticks and stones didn’t hurt her anymore.

He was breathing hard, and other things were stirring…below. She tried to lever herself away and a broad palm cupped her cheek. Warmth spread over her skin and traveled like wildfire along the rest of her body. Unable to help herself, she leaned into his touch.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was hoarse.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither. Guess Matt called us to a meeting.” The strange echo in his voice raised a shiver in her. He gathered her closer, hauling her completely atop him. They were nearly matched in height, but he made her feel so fragile, especially when he traced a path down her spine to the small of her back. His big fingertips weighted her—but to a dream world or reality?

“Brodie,” she whispered.

She heard him swallow. He cleared his throat with the ripping sound of paper. In the dimness, his eyes glittered black. “I can’t sleep, Danica. I’ve used the sides of Afghan buildings as pillows and slept soundly, but now that I have my bed I’m wide awake. And I can’t eat. Momma’s biscuits are dry and I can’t choke them down. My favorite cereal…”

She found the line of his jaw in the darkness, running her thumb along the squared bone. “It’s okay, Brodie. You’re not alone.”

With another rough noise, he snapped his arms around her, crushing her. The hard planes of his body comforted unlike anything had in a long time. She bit back her own emotion and just offered herself. He held her tightly for long minutes. His lips traveled over her hair.

What had happened between them in the field had been about lust. This was different. Something deep and primal was driving him to take comfort, even if it was from Matt’s kid sister.

Unable to help herself, she skimmed her lips across the place she’d just touched, burning at the feel of his stiff beard beneath her lips. His body seemed to hum. Solid hips cradled hers, and his cock was steel against her pussy. He wasn’t immune to her. Not at all.

His body recognized her as a grown woman.

Kissing up his chin, gunning for his hard lips, she watched his eyelids flicker. As she reached his lower lip, he closed his eyes. She nibbled.

And he turned into her kiss with a fierce possession that sucked a gasp from her. He gripped her ass and pulled her hips into his even as he rolled to meet her. When his stiff cock dug into the seam of her jeans, she released a rough cry.

“Danica, Jesus, I can’t. I can’t.”

“You said that before. There’s nothing stopping us.”

He flicked his tongue over hers, towing her into a warm, mindless place where she ran on pure instinct. She needed this man. They needed each other.

Suddenly, he moved her away from him, panting hard. She found herself on cold wood, too far from the burning man she wanted so badly.

When he pushed into a sitting position, knees drawn up and head bowed, her heart gave a small pang. She rarely saw the despondent Brodie—this man was a soldier who’d seen and done horrific things. He’d seen his best friend killed.

She scooted into a sitting position too and pressed her back against the wall while she let her hormones cool. Even in her dream, she hadn’t realized how tiny this place was. Or maybe it was because Brodie took up so much room.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

He barked a humorless laugh. “Why, darlin’? It’s all my fault.”

“No. And I didn’t come here for this. I came because I couldn’t sleep. I dreamed about Matt…”

She couldn’t see his face but heard his rough breathing. Putting her brother’s name out there between them was a risk. Part of her wanted Brodie to only see her, not her brother. But she wasn’t so man-hungry right now. She only wished to ease her friend.

Reaching across the shadows, she found his knee. When she clamped her fingers around the hard bone, she felt him shift, relaxing slightly into her touch, though his voice sounded strangled. “I can’t sleep. Can’t eat. I’m fucking up this living thing, Danica.”

Her heart bled for the pain in his voice. “That’s not how I see it. I see a man who is helping both our families. Even the townspeople see what we’re doing up here and are inspired. They’re starting to see they can recover and maybe rebuild.”

“We’re not doing enough. This town’s all I’ve got now.”

Not all you’ve got. Just open your eyes, Brodie.

Swallowing her personal needs, she said, “Then we’ll do more. We’ll hold a town meeting. Just don’t shut me out. Please, Brodie.”

He covered her hand over his knee and squeezed. When he released her fingers, she felt the change in him. “I’m too screwed up for you, Danica.” He shuffled to the trapdoor. Desperation hit her as he dropped out of sight.

For a long time after she heard his footsteps moving away from the treehouse, she huddled against the wall, aching. She’d come here to get away from a ghost and had ended up more haunted.

* * * * *

Driving into the barren town was as depressing as hell. No businesses, no kids playing or riding bikes. Hell, he didn’t even see a squirrel. He didn’t see any way for the town to return to what it once was.

When Brodie spotted Danica’s truck parked at the grouping of tents where Pastor Kent and his family were living, he braked. Several tents obviously blocked a fire—smoke billowed into the sky.

Without a thought he got out of the truck and began walking toward the tents. Halfway there he heard children. And hammering.

Quickening his pace, he rounded two tents to find the source of the noise. Five children ranging from ten to infancy were gathered around a fire. Mrs. Kent was bent over the flames, turning hot dogs and hamburgers while the pastor and Brodie’s friends were busy laying out a framework on the ground.

Danica was nowhere to be seen.

“Brodie.”

He spun at her rich, sultry drawl. He felt his eyes bulge at the sight of her cutoff shorts that featured her muscled, tanned thighs. And her white tank top was…well, he had to look away.

“Welcome, Brodie,” Pastor Kent said.

He turned at the pastor’s greeting. A hand was thrust out for him to shake, and Brodie looked into the man’s smiling face. The darkness from the previous night fled his mind.

“Hello, Pastor. What’s going on here?”

“Well, my children are fractious, as you can imagine. There’s only so much homeschool they can stand before they get restless.” He swept a hand across the flattened landscape. “This isn’t much by way of distraction, so your friends have agreed to help me with a little building project.”

Danica brushed past Brodie, hips swaying, hair long and loose on her spine. He could nearly feel her atop him again. And her sweet, plump pussy lips beneath his tongue.

“What kind of project?” He glanced away from Danica to Garrett, Wydell, and Boyd hammering and sawing some four-by-fours.

“A playground. Would you be willing to help?”

Brodie blinked. Nothing was left of Los Vista. No school playground, park, or even a tire swing. It seemed fitting that one of the first structures to be built was for the entertainment of the next generation.

He smiled. “Of course. I’ve got a toolbox in the back of my truck. I’ll get my hammer.” Feeling lighter, he moved past a few toys strewn on the ground along with a bushel of clothes. The family was living in tents and making the most of it, even thriving in spirit. He felt his own soar.

When he returned to the site, Danica met his gaze. “Will you eat, Brodie?” She held a thick hamburger on a bun with lettuce and tomato. His stomach cramped.

“Yes. Thank you. And thank
you,
Mrs. Kent.”

She looked up from feeding the baby with a smile and nod. Brodie walked up to his friends. The guys stood with the pastor eating and drinking. At his approach, they made space for him in their circle.

Danica joined them a minute later, mouth bulging with a hot dog. A bit of ketchup lingered at the corner of her lips, but she chewed and swallowed before swiping her tongue over it.

His gut clenched with need. Today he had his wallet, and a condom was handily tucked in the folds.

A child ran through the group, zigzagging away from his pursuer. High-pitched cries filled the air. Then Danica’s voice as she made a suggestion about the playground design.

Plans were spread on the ground along with plastic bags filled with bolts and nails. A prepackaged kit purchased from a building center. The quickest means to the end result and happy children.

Maybe this was the way to rebuild…

Brodie’s train of thought derailed as Danica laughed. Brodie felt as though an electric current ran through his body. His jaw twinged, and he realized he was smiling wide too.

At least until she playfully smacked Garrett in the arm. Then Brodie wanted to growl and bare his fangs like the tattoo on his arm. He watched them from beneath the brim of his hat, his appetite gone. He set his plate aside and moved toward two of the Kent children, who were red-faced from arguing.

“I get the first swing.”

“No, you don’t. I’m older.”

“Papa says—”

Seeing the situation escalating, Brodie squatted between the kids and rested a hand on each sturdy shoulder. “Now, it looks as if there are two swings and plenty of other things to play on. You don’t need to fight.”

They stared at him. “Hallie gets the first swing. She’s only two. We have to share with her first. It’s the rules,” the younger of the two said, pointing to the little blonde girl who was playing with a dirty-faced doll.

“Then you have to follow rules. But one of you can be the first to push her.”

Two nods of agreement. From the corner of his eye, he saw Danica drifting closer.

“I get to push her first!”

“No, I do!”

“Why don’t we flip a coin for it?” He fished in his pocket and produced a tarnished nickel. Holding it up for the youngsters, he showed them both sides. “One of you picks heads. Another tails. Whichever lands facing up wins. And that means you can’t argue anymore, all right?”

Twin nods.

Danica’s body heat engulfed Brodie’s side where he squatted. He had to brace his muscles to keep from leaning against her strong, warm thigh. Somehow he managed to toss the coin and catch it. When he opened his palm, the kids crowded close to see.

“Heads! I get to push Hallie first.”

The other child screwed up her features as if ready to scream like an air raid siren. “That means you get to swing after Hallie. Then you’ve gotta take turns with your brother, okay?”

Her pouting lip sucked back in and a reluctant smile spread over her features. “Okay.”