Smoking Hot (12 page)

She raised her chin. “So what? I love sex, and I'm a master at the game. You can't win.”

He leaned back in his chair and studied her long enough she began to fidget. “You think not?”

A flicker of uncertainty trickled through her as some of her confidence slipped, but with determination drawn from depending on herself, she squared her shoulders and met his eyes without fear he would ever have power over her. She knew his game. “I'm sure.”

He suddenly leaned forward, startling her. “I wouldn't be if I were you. Someday soon you'll beg me to tie you up and do what I please with you. And I will. The day will come when I have you bound. I'll take my time stripping off your clothes layer by layer. You'll be naked in front of me, squirming with anticipation. You'll do anything I say.”

She drew in a sharp breath as tantalizing images materialized in her mind. It wasn't as though she never thought about domination but when she did, she was always the dominant partner. But her body betrayed her when her nipples grew taut. She ached for release.

No! What was she thinking? She jumped to her feet. “I will never let anyone have that much control over me!”

“You will, and you'll enjoy every minute.” He watched her, as though he waited for her to admit that she had entertained his idea, even briefly.

“Go! Leave my house!”

“What scares you the most?” he asked. “Giving up control or knowing how much the thought of being tied up turns you on?”

“Get out,” she said between gritted teeth.

“Is that what you really want?”

“Yes.”

He nodded, then closed his eyes. She took a step back when he disappeared right in front of her. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. None of it was real. He wasn't real. She only believed in what she could touch.

But she had touched him. She dropped back into the chair, massaging her temples as her head began to pound. “I'm not a control freak. I enjoy giving pleasure. Big difference.” Then in a louder voice, “So screw you.”

But why did heat spiral through her at the thought of Dillon taking complete control? The thought of having sex again? She reached forward and picked up her glass, downing the rest of the wine.

She stood and walked over to where he'd left the bottle. It was good wine, though. She poured a full glass, then set the bottle down. And good food. She tore off a piece of meat and shoved it into her mouth. Then another. And another.

Damn him! Damn him for putting thoughts in her head. She refused to be submissive to anyone.

When she was beyond feeling full and tipsy, she grabbed the bottle of wine and the flashlight and headed toward the front door. One last check of the animals and then she might watch a movie or something. Since she'd been forced to take a leave of absence, she had more time on her hands. A movie would be great. She couldn't remember the last time she'd watched one.

She stopped long enough to take a long drink from the bottle. The liquid slid smoothly down her throat and settled in her stomach, spreading warmth down her arms. There was a bit of a breeze rustling the leaves in the trees and it carried the slightest chill. So she took another drink, letting the wine warm her blood, then headed toward the barn. The beam of light bounced on the ground like a crazed kangaroo that had overdosed on drugs. That was enough to make anyone drunk, she thought. She stopped, steadied the light, and continued on her way. Better.

The barn was two stories and painted red. She'd chosen the color when she was ten. Very ingenious of her, she thought, although the paint faded over time. The dull red color gave the old building character.

Once she was standing inside the barn, she found the light switch and flipped it on. The stalls were finally clean and the sweet aroma of hay hung in the air. She refused to feel grateful to someone who had people telling angel jokes all over town at her expense. She sighed.

She drained the last of the wine from the bottle and tossed it in the barrel near the door. The bottle thumped against the bottom. A chicken squawked her anger, the horses whinnied their disapproval, and something scurried beneath the bags of feed stacked in the corner. She wouldn't be investigating.

“Excuse me for wanting to make sure you'd been fed,” she mumbled.

The three stalls were clean and fresh hay was scattered about. Dillon told the truth. The chores were done. She shrugged. He owed her for making her look crazy. Until her life was back in order, he would continue to owe her.

Since there was nothing to do, she started toward the door, but something sparkled, catching her eye. It didn't move when she stepped closer so she wasn't too worried it might be the beady eyes of some varmint. The object was partially covered, but it was black and looked like some sort of handle studded with diamonds. Not that she thought they were real.

She squatted down and brushed the hay away. Her heart skipped a beat. The diamonds probably were real. Her fingers wrapped around the handle as she came to her feet. Knotted black velvet cords dangled from the end of the whip. Her thighs clenched as she imagined herself naked, Dillon wielding the whip across her bare buttocks, sending shivers of desire over her body.

“You've never known pleasure like I can give you,” he whispered close to her ear.

She didn't move as he ran his hand down her arm and covered her fingers. If not for that, she would've dropped the whip. Instead, he moved her hand so the cords swung back and forth. Like a hypnotist with a watch, the cords were captivating. She swallowed hard.

“It won't happen. I'm not the submissive type,” she told him, but she couldn't force her feet to move.

“Are you sure you don't want me to bind your hands, then unbutton your shirt?” With his free hand, he unbuttoned the top button. Her breasts ached for his touch.

She sucked in a deep breath as he reached for the second button and tugged it through the hole. This was crazy! She had to tell him to stop. After the third one, he reached inside her shirt, running his hand across her abdomen.

She jumped, but the movement only put her in closer contact with him. His erection bumped her bottom. Her thighs clenched and it was all she could do to stifle her moan. She wanted him, but on her terms.

“No,” she said, lacking the conviction she wanted to convey. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I want you to stop right—” He tweaked her nipple, sending heat down her body. “—now.” She leaned against him.

“Liar,” he whispered.

Yes, she was a liar, because what he was doing to her body felt right and good and she never wanted him to stop.

He cupped her breast, massaging and kneading before sliding his hand lower, tugging the belt until he could slide it out of the loops. Without the belt to hold her pants up, they slid down to her knees. Instead of dropping her belt, he moved one end across her stomach. His implication was clear.

Some sanity returned. “I will not be a submissive.”

“You can't control everything.”

“But I can control my sex life.”

“Can you?” He dropped the belt, moving his hand down, tickling across the silky material of her panties.

A shiver swept over her. She'd never wanted a man like she wanted Dillon. Her body was on fire. She would have exactly what she wanted, too. She never lost. She toed off her sneakers and kicked out of her jeans. In one swift movement, she turned in his arms.

“Yes. I can control every bit of it.” She pressed her lips against his chest and was gratified to hear his sharp intake of air.

He leaned down and raised her chin. His lips covered hers. She wasn't quite sure when he gained control. One second her tongue gently caressed his, and then he was the one doing the teasing. They were his hands sliding inside her panties and pulling her tighter against his erection. She was the one breathing harder, pressing even closer. When the kiss ended, she was panting.

“Do you want me to bind your wrists? Will you give me the freedom to do anything I want?”

A few seconds passed before she realized what he asked. A cold chill passed over her. She shook her head. “I can't.”

“You might as well give in. You will eventually.”

She squared her shoulders and took a step back. “No, I won't.”

His gaze drifted over her. “It's a shame to cause both of us this much pain.” He closed his eyes and disappeared.

For a moment she couldn't say anything, then she exploded. “Damn you!” The chicken fell off her nest and began to flap her wings and run around as though the barn was on fire. The horses whinnied and stomped the ground. And Raine discovered what had scurried behind the stacked bags of dry feed—a rat. She screamed and ran toward the house, not bothering to grab her clothes. She hated rats almost as much as she hated a certain nephilim!

Dillon knew what he was doing. Knowing didn't make him hurt any less. He wanted nothing more than to let Raine take control, to feel her naked body pressed against his, to make sweet love all night long. But that wouldn't help her. She needed to learn that giving up control didn't mean it would make her vulnerable.

He leaned back in the chair, raising the cup of coffee to his lips. For a moment, he closed his eyes and savored the strong flavor. There was something to be said about early morning, sitting on the porch watching the sun come up, casting hues of orange and yellow across the land.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Raine asked.

Dillon winced at the sharpness of her tone. Her eyes were rimmed with dark circles as if she hadn't slept well. She was dressed in her usual attire when she was at the ranch: baggy jeans and shirt, scuffed boots, and a stained hat. She still looked good to him. Maybe because he knew what was under the ugly clothes.

“I
was
enjoying the start of a new day and a cup of coffee.”

“That's my coffee you're drinking.”

“Technically, no. I used your coffeepot, but I brought my own coffee. Try it. I think you'll like it.” She opened her mouth. He held up a hand. “Go pour yourself a cup and join me. Then we'll talk.” He turned his attention back to his cup. “That's if you still want me to fix your life.”

She opened her mouth, then snapped it closed, eyes narrowing. “You're an ass,” she finally said and turned on her heel. The screen door slammed behind her.

Dillon wondered if she would return. He didn't relax until the door opened again. She carried a cup of coffee, but didn't speak to him. She didn't take the chair near him, either, but chose a rocker two spaces away. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she took a drink, then lightly pushed with the toe of one foot, setting the rocker into gentle motion. She brought the cup to her lips, blew across the top, then took a drink, closing her eyes for a moment.

She liked it. He knew she would. The coffee was strong but not bitter and with just a pinch of cinnamon. He learned that trick a long time ago. A pinch of spice or a bit of chocolate made a nice change.

“It's okay,” she finally said, words stiff as her back.

He smiled because he knew the coffee was better than okay, but he quickly made his expression bland when she looked his way.

“I'm still pissed about last night. I hope you get blue balls and your dick rots off.”

“Yeah, I knew you'd still be angry.”

“You've got that right. When you start something, you're supposed to finish it.”

“You made your choice.”

“And I won't change my mind.”

“Then you'll never know what you're missing.”

Her smile didn't reach her eyes. “Then I won't miss it, will I?”

“You will, because I've put the idea of being a submissive in your head. You probably dreamed about it last night. Did you dream about what I would do if I had you under my complete control?”

Something close to a growl came from low in her throat. Rather than admit to anything, she gulped down the rest of her coffee and set the cup on the floor with a resounding thunk. He was surprised she didn't break the handle off. Rather than admit to anything, she asked, “How exactly do you plan to fix my life?”

He drained his cup, then set it on the side table beside his chair. The sun squeezed the rest of the way above the horizon and a burst of color spread out in all directions. A rooster crowed, signaling the start of a new day.

“You're going to catch the bank robbers.” He crossed his legs at the ankles and sighed. It was a damn good plan. Putting the thieves behind bars would certainly clear her name.

“That's your plan?” she asked incredulously. “Well hell, why didn't I think of that?” Sarcasm dripped from her words.

He frowned. So maybe she had thought about it. The plan was a good one, though, and she couldn't fault him for thinking that was the best way to clear her name.

“And exactly how do you plan to go about catching the criminals when they're probably long gone?”

“I've been thinking,” he began.

She crossed her arms in front of her and shifted slightly in her chair, giving him her full attention. One eyebrow rose.

He wasn't sure he liked her attitude. “I'm trying to help,” he said.

“Okay. What's your plan?” When he didn't answer, she continued. “You do have a plan, don't you?”

He had to quit winging this and come up with something concrete. Except he didn't have a plan, only an idea. It was lame at best. She would know he hadn't thought anything through. The way she sat there staring at him with that haughty look was as if she expected whatever he said to be a joke at best. People had no faith, Raine least of all. Not that he could blame her, and she didn't look as though she was going to cut him any slack.

“You heard them talking,” he began.

“Yeah.” She didn't look impressed.

“We need to pick everything apart. Isn't that what you do at a crime scene? Go over every detail to see if you might have missed something?”

Her shoulders slumped as the fight suddenly drained from her. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her not to worry. Tell her that everything would be okay and he would make it right, but he didn't know for sure that would happen.

She pushed with her toe again and set the rocker in motion. Her gaze moved to the horizon. “Don't you think I've already done that? I've gone over everything in my mind a thousand times and still come up with nothing. I told Sheriff Barnes all I know and I still don't have a solid clue. Now they say they found one of Grandpa's handkerchiefs. His brand is embroidered in one corner. Also my notepad was near the vault.” Tears sparkled in her eyes before she quickly blinked away the moisture and squared her shoulders. She turned her attention back to him. “Your plan sucks.”

“Thanks for the confidence.”

“Do you screw up everyone's life? Or were you just bored the day you decided to interfere in mine?”

“I'm only half angel. I still make mistakes.” She really had an attitude problem.

“Oh yeah, I forgot. You're half man. That explains a lot.”

“You didn't seem to mind when we were making love.”

She gripped the arms of the rocker, shifting in her seat. He knew she was remembering what they'd experienced. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. When she drew in a deep breath, his gaze lowered. Was she wearing a bra today?

An ache began to build inside him. He'd never wanted a woman as much as he wanted Raine. Even Lily hadn't made him feel this almost overpowering need. He waited for the pain, the regret that always followed when he thought about Lily. It didn't come. For the first time in a very long time, he felt at peace.

He studied Raine as she stared off into the distance. If he failed her, would it destroy him? The thought shook him to his core. Everything inside him said run. Protect himself. Raine was Lily all over again.

No, it wasn't the same. There were no demons this time, and Raine was nothing like Lily. Raine was a fighter. She would never fall for the lies of a demon. There was a strength in Raine that Lily never had. Lily wanted everything handed to her on a silver platter. Raine was willing to work hard for what she wanted.

Raine's gaze suddenly met his. “What's your plan?”

He came to his feet, walking to the edge of the porch. “You had the right idea at the sheriff's office,” he said. “Everything adds up. You were on duty the night of the robbery and the robbers knew it.”

“But why would they try to kill me?”

“I don't think they did. You probably weren't supposed to even show up. They planned to rob the bank, drop a handkerchief with your grandfather's brand on it, and your notepad.”

She shook her head. “But I might have dropped my notepad.”

“Did you?”

She shook her head again as she tried to remember. Finally, she reached up and massaged her temples. “I'm not sure about anything. And I don't know why Grandpa's handkerchief was there. That night is still a blur.”

“The people investigating the robbery see your notepad near the vault, along with your grandfather's handkerchief, and the fingers begin to point to the two most likely.”

“How could they even think it was us? My father was the sheriff. He swore to protect and serve, and I've done the same thing.”

“And the ranch is in trouble. A property that has been in the family since your grandfather was a young man. Without a cash flow, you might be forced to sell it.”

She faced him, eyes blazing. “I'd never let that happen! This place means too much to Grandpa.”

“My point exactly,” he said quietly. The more he thought about it, he was almost certain that was what happened. Raine and her grandfather were perfect to take the fall.

“How do I find them?” she finally asked, but with the fire of determination in her eyes. Yeah, she was a fighter. Nothing would get her down very long.

But this was where his plan became tricky. “I'm not sure.”

Her eyebrow shot up again. “You're half angel. Don't you have a magic ball or something?”

“Half is right. The other half makes mistakes like other men. I can't see the future.”

She stared at him, not saying a word. Damn it, she could be aggravating as hell at times. “I see glimpses,” he finally told her. “Or I feel as though something will happen. I'm not one hundred percent accurate.”

“Ya think?”

Raine went beyond aggravating. “Would you rather I leave?” Not that he would, but she didn't know that for sure.

The fight went out of her. “No. I don't want Grandpa to suffer.”

Guilt flooded him. He was supposed to be helping her, not sparring with her. “I'm sorry this turned out the way it did.”

“I'll fix it.” She didn't look very confident, and the vulnerability was back in her eyes.

“
We
will fix it. You're not in this alone.”

Her expression said she didn't think he could pull it off. “Then don't screw up again.” Her determination was back in full force. She reached down and picked up her coffee cup off the floor. “I think I'm going to need lots more coffee.”