Riding the Line
Table of Contents
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Version 1.0
Epub ISBN 9780753523537
This book is a work of fiction.
In real life, make sure you practice safe, sane and consensual sex.
Published by Cheek 2009
2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1
Copyright © Kate Pearce 2009
Kate Pearce has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living ordead, is purely coincidental.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
First published in Great Britain in 2009 by
Cheek
Virgin Books
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She dove into the nearest bag and pulled out a pink and black fake lace bra and panties set. Turning her back, she shimmied out of her old clothes and into the new ones.
‘OK, you can look now,’ she said.
‘Hell, lady, I was looking all the time.’
She turned around and gasped as Dakota slid his arms around her hips and rubbed his unshaven cheek against her stomach. He licked the indentation of her navel and the small silver ring inserted through it.
‘I like it.’
She glanced down at the top of his head. ‘You can’t see it, you’re way too close.’
‘Nope, I’m good.’ His tongue slid lower until he licked the edge of her panties. ‘How about you let me help you relax? It’s been a long day.’ His big hand squeezed her ass cheek in time to the sweep of his tongue.
‘I haven’t showered.’
‘Neither have I,’ he murmured as his teeth tugged at the elastic, drawing it lower with every subtle movement.
Robyn grabbed his thick brown hair until he went still. ‘I thought we were going slow.’
He chuckled, and the sound vibrated against her skin. ‘This is slow. I’m going to take care of you and then we’re going to have some dinner. Think of this as a kind of
hors d’oeuvre
, a little taste to whet your appetite.’
hors d’oeuvre
, a little taste to whet your appetite.’
‘When did you learn to speak French?’ She gasped. Her knees felt strangely weak as she relaxed her grip on his hair and his sinfully warm mouth worked its magic against her flesh.
By the same author:
Roping the Wind
Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?
Chapter One
‘Are you sure you can’t find me a mechanic?’
Dakota Scott blinked rapidly into the pitiless glare of fluorescent lighting as he entered the dilapidated store attached to the gas station and so-called garage. He was hot, thirsty and needed a beer. His horse trailer was busted and apparently there was no chance of getting it fixed until Monday at the earliest.
And it was only Saturday night, not that you’d know it from the desolate darkened shop fronts and deserted streets. A hell of a place to break down. Thank God he wasn’t hauling his horse back to San Francisco, Tommy wouldn’t have liked this at all.
Mr Carter, the gas-station owner, was a thin old guy. He stood beside the cash register and laid a protective hand on it as if worried Dakota might have some notion of robbing him.
‘The Ford brothers are the only mechanics in town and they won’t open till Monday. You’ll just have to wait till then, Mr Scott.’
‘Not
the
Ford family, right? Otherwise I might be expecting better service.’
the
Ford family, right? Otherwise I might be expecting better service.’
His little joke fell flat. There was no flicker of amusement on Mr Carter’s face. Maybe he’d heard it before. Dakota tried again. ‘Is there a hotel?’
‘There’s a motel down the street.’
‘That’ll have to do until they fix my truck, then.’ Dakota straightened up and rubbed his aching neck. He sure could do with a shower after his fruitless efforts to slide under the truck and work out exactly what was wrong. The sensation of his horse trailer trying to join him in the front seat of his truck was not one he wanted to repeat. ‘Do you reckon the motel will have any vacancies?’
‘Usually does. Las Caldras isn’t exactly a hot vacation destination.’ Mr Carter scratched his balding head. ‘They won’t be serving food at this late hour either, so, if you want to eat, you’ll have to make do with what I’ve got here.’
Dakota sighed as his gaze swept the shelves of groceries for the lonely, the emotionally deprived and the poor. Cheap snacks filled with enough salt and sugar to make him forget his worries for an hour or two and significantly raise his blood sugar levels. A slight movement toward the back of the store caught his eye. It seemed he wasn’t the only customer. He nodded pleasantly at the old man. ‘I’ll take a look. Thanks for the advice.’
He strolled toward the second aisle, aware of Mr Carter’s eyes boring a hole in the back of his head. Damn, there wasn’t anything worth stealing in here unless a guy had an obsession for cheap shit. He stopped in front of a display of jerky and considered his options.
He had to wait for the truck and horse trailer to be fixed. There was no other way out of this tiny town. No railroad, buses or taxis, no airport, no cars to rent. Did people just come here to die? He turned right, headed up the next aisle and stopped. A woman was hunched over the medical supplies section; her hand darted in and out of her coat pocket.
Dakota gently cleared his throat. ‘Ma’am, if you’re considering stealing that stuff, I’d think again. The guy who owns this shop is as jumpy as a rattlesnake at a high-heeled-shoe convention.’
She turned to look at him, desperation plain on her thin shadowed face. She was younger than he’d expected, probably around his own age.
‘Fuck off.’
Dakota folded his arms across his chest. ‘I’m just trying to help you out here, ma’am. I reckon he’ll call the cops if you as much as steal a tissue.’
Her hand clenched on a carton of Tylenol. ‘I need something. I’ve got a temperature.’
‘Everything all right, Mr Scott?’
‘Good, thank you.’ Dakota switched position and used his body to block Mr Carter’s view of the woman when he appeared at the head of the aisle. ‘Stay there.’
He sauntered back toward the door, picked up a plastic basket and went back to the woman. He held out the basket. ‘Put what you need in here. I’ll pay for it.’
‘Why?’ She stared at him, her expression so suspicious he almost wanted to laugh.
‘Because I want your body. Does that work for you?’ He smiled encouragingly when she didn’t. It seemed nobody in this town was getting his jokes. He sighed. ‘Give me a minute to grab some stuff to eat, and we’ll go and pay together, OK?’
She nodded and handed over the painkillers at the same time. Her fingers brushed his, they were as hot as coals, her skin badly bruised and torn. Dakota checked for cuts on her thin wrist but couldn’t see anything.
He hurried through the aisles, found a couple of energy bars, breakfast cereal, milk and chips and headed up to the front. She was waiting for him, hands thrust into the pockets of her long black coat, hood covering her face.
Mr Carter stood on the other side of the cash desk, his expression one of intense disapproval as he stared at them both.
Dakota handed over the basket of groceries and got out his wallet. ‘So you’ll tell the Ford brothers I’ll be at the motel when they open up on Monday, then.’
‘Yeah, I’ll do that.’
‘Thanks.’ He handed over some cash, winked at the woman and held the door open for her. It swung shut behind him with a thump and he let out his breath. He risked a glance at the silent figure beside him. She was tall for a woman, probably about five foot ten or thereabouts. ‘So how did you get here?’
‘I was hitch-hiking. This was as far as the guy went.’
‘Damn bad luck.’ He studied the street, reckoned he could see the lights of the motel and started toward it.
She touched the sleeve of his denim jacket. ‘Can I have my painkillers?’
He stopped to stare at her, the quiver in her voice brought out all his protective instincts. ‘Do you have a place to stay tonight?’
She shook her head, her booted feet stirring up the dust. Her eyes finally met his to reveal a pathetic mixture of doubt and the beginnings of hope. Hard for him to see in an animal, let alone a human being. He sighed and knew he was done for.
‘Would you like to bunk with me?’ He paused. ‘In the motel, I mean, not literally in the same bunk.’
She tilted her head to look at him. He remained quiet under her fierce scrutiny.
‘Why?’
He shrugged. ‘Because I’m a nice guy?’
‘OK.’ She nodded awkwardly. ‘Thanks.’
He held out his hand. ‘I’m Dakota Scott. Nice to meet you.’
She quickly touched his outstretched palm and then stuffed her hand back into her pocket.
‘OK then, let’s go get signed in.’ She fell into step beside him, their footsteps loud in the silence. ‘There’s one thing I need to know.’
‘What’s that?’
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