Rubbing herself against him, Sarah said, “When you grabbed the back of my head and pulled me to you, I liked it.”
He reenacted his early move, burying his hand in the back of her hair and holding her helplessly immobile before him. “You mean this?”
She sighed through parted lips, “Yes.”
He claimed her lips with his, teasing, testing, while he boldly slid a hand beneath the back hem of her dress, cupping her ass roughly. “You like it rough?”
Sarah playfully struggled against his hold, loving how easily he restrained her. “I don’t know, but I’d like to try it out,” she admitted.
His mouth closed over hers again, his tongue deep within her mouth, demanding a submission she gladly gave. With one strong move he ripped her thong underwear off. There was a sting to the move. Sarah moaned into the kiss, loving how the slight pain flooded her with want.
He growled into her ear. “I told you earlier that there’d be a price to pay for inviting everyone to dinner.”
Sarah wasn’t sure if his anger was fake or real, and she didn’t know if she cared.
He set her away from him for a moment and took off his belt. Her eyes rounded as she realized she should have defined rough before the game started.
He laughed and dropped the belt, along with the rest of his clothing to the floor. “Don’t worry, I would never mark what is mine.”
She turned to flee, half in jest and half in response to what she was pretty sure he intended to do. He grabbed her around the waist, swung her up and sat on the edge of the bed, settling her face down across his lap. The sting of the first spank was softened by the material of her dress, but then he slid it up, exposing her bare ass to his reprimand. “Do you like soft?” He tapped one ass cheek lightly. “Or hard?” The crack of his hand echoed in the quiet of the room and Sarah gasped at the sudden pain, then marveled how it intensified her desire.
“Both,” she panted and squirmed in his hold.
He repeated the same pattern on her other cheek. Another gasp and more pleasure. A few more spanks and Sarah was writhing and moaning. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he bent and kissed the flesh he’d reddened. He ran his hand down the back of one of her thighs and pushed her legs apart wider.
With one hand, he held her head arched back by pulling on a fistful of hair while he slid one finger of his other hand inside her soaked pussy. His thumb sought and circled her excited nub. His erection jutted against her stomach. “You’re not in control here, Sarah. I am.” He thrust another finger inside her, pumping in and out, faster and faster. “You only come when I tell you to.”
He kissed her waist, bit her lightly on the curve of her ass and kept a steady rhythm within her. He’d stop, twirl a finger, rub her clit with increased speed, then stop again. She felt orgasms build, then retreat, only to come back stronger and fiercer in their promise.
“Oh, God,” she gripped his leg. “Don’t stop again. Please.”
“I like it when you beg.”
“Don’t make me kick your ass,” she threatened in a haze of frustrated desire.
He chuckled, but his hand started moving again, faster than before, while his thumb lavishly rewarded her most sensitive spot. “Now, Sarah. Come for me.”
“Yes,” she wept, moving her hips against the fingers he’d paused within her.
He released her hair, removed his hand and rolled her over in his arms, kissing her lightly as the last waves of orgasm shook through her. She laid her head on his shoulder, closed her eyes, and said, “Apology accepted.”
He chuckled again, then stood, still holding her in his arms as he carried her back to his bed. Later, spent and wrapped in each other’s arms, Tony was just about to fall asleep when Sarah asked, “Would you be upset if I quickly wrote a few things in my notebook before I forget them?”
He opened one eye and said, “I don’t know which I should worry about more—that you have enough energy to write, or that you’re afraid you’ll forget what we did.”
Sarah laughed and stood naked beside the bed. “Would it help if I told you that I want to capture the wonder of it all?”
He smiled and closed his eyes with a groan. “Go get your notebook. You can read it to me tomorrow, and if you forgot any details we can repeat tonight again and again. Purely to help you with your research.”
Sarah lifted his shirt off the floor and threw it at him. He caught it a few inches above his head, smiled, and dropped it to the floor.
Pulling her notebook and pen out of her bag, Sarah headed back to the bed and thought, I hope he doesn’t really believe I’m doing this for my book. What we have is about so much more than sex.
Isn’t it?
Chapter Nineteen
Three weeks later, Sarah was sitting on the porch in a cotton summer dress and the cowboy boots Tony had surprised her with, hugging her notebook to her chest. Time had flown by in a happy haze of notebook-worthy lovemaking. Being with a lover who was both demanding and respectful of her preferences gave Sarah a confidence she had never imagined possible. It wasn’t about what she would or wouldn’t do, it was about what they enjoyed doing together and how the trust between them was growing.
She woke in his arms each morning, loving the warm kiss he gave her and how reluctant he always was to leave her. He’d returned to his training schedule and Sarah had found a comfortable rhythm to the ranch days. She helped Melanie with the morning cleanup, read books with her son, and dragged them both to town to shop for Tony’s house. At first their conversations were strained, but as trust began to build, a friendship was born.
Sarah took photos of the people who worked on the ranch and framed them, placing them on the walls and around the house on tables. With Tony’s permission, she replaced his old furniture with simple but comfortable pieces that made a person want to stay for a while. The quiet of the house was replaced with soft music on most days and Sarah had even convinced Tony that he needed not only a television but also a computer and Internet access. Slowly, Tony’s house was becoming a home.
A home she felt comfortable enough to spend her afternoons writing in. Her once-empty notebook was overflowing with answered questions, chapters, and revisions. Sarah had never felt more alive or at peace.
This is where I belong.
Thursdays had become days she looked forward to. She’d been apprehensive when Tony had suggested she invite everyone to dinner again, but he’d reassured her things would be different, and he’d been right. Everyone, including Dean, had been on their best behavior, and real conversations had replaced the previous ribbing.
Tony would never be a man of many words, but when he’d patiently answered questions from the young men around the table regarding his training philosophy and even praised one of them regarding a horse, Sarah’s heart had soared. Like rain coming to the desert, the change in Tony brought his ranch alive. After dinner, she and Tony often walked, hand in hand, through the barn and paddocks. Tony greeted the men he came across, and she even caught him smiling more than once.
Everything was perfect.
So perfect that Sarah accepted that Tony didn’t talk about his feelings or the future. She told herself that she didn’t need the words because his actions showed the world he cared about her.
Maybe even loves.
Sarah hugged her notebook tighter.
Definitely loves.
In the main barn, Tony absently brushed down the horse he’d just exercised and fought to empty his mind of the images from his latest nightmare. Sarah didn’t know he was still having them, and he wasn’t about to tell her they were getting worse rather than better.
Images of the girl who had died tormented him long after he awoke. The happier he was during the day, the more pleasure he found with Sarah in his bed, the uglier and more graphic his nightmares became until the message in them began to overshadow what should have been a good time in his life.
Kimberly Staten.
Are you haunting me or
am I torturing myself?
Which one of us is convinced that I don’t deserve to be happy?
His hand paused as an image of Sarah, smiling sweetly up at him during one of their evening walks, mocked him. How can she be the best and the worst thing that has ever happened to me? Is that the hell I earned for myself? To have everything offered to me and be unable to enjoy it? To watch a good woman fall in love with me and know that ultimately I’ll disappoint her?
And Sarah was a good woman. Everything she touched was better for the attention she gave it. His house finally looked lived in, his employees were happier than he’d ever seen them, and David said their clients appreciated the sparkle hoof polish she applied to each horse they sold. Dean dropped by the ranch a few times a week, and each time he did he mentioned how good everything and everyone looked.
So I smile and lie.
I let everyone believe that Sarah’s magic has worked on me as well.
Because the truth is as ugly as my nightmares.
I’ll never be the man she needs me to be.
Chapter Twenty
Sarah was sitting on the porch steps and had just finished revising a chapter in her book when a long, black limo pulled into Tony’s driveway. She stood up and shaded her eyes to see it better. A perspective buyer? Had Tony gotten to the point where he was willing to meet with them now? A swell of pride rushed through her. He’s come so far.
When the tuxedoed driver walked around to open the door, Sarah held her breath and instantly recognized the expensive shoes and business suit before she saw the face of the man they belonged to. Charlie!
She sprinted down the driveway, her smile growing wider as she did. She’d wanted to tell him the details of her new life in Texas but had been waiting for the perfect time. Now she could show him instead.
He took off his dark sunglasses and looked around even after Sarah had come to a near-sliding stop in front of him. “So, this is where you’ve been all summer.”
Despite how serious her brother looked, Sarah threw her arms around him and hugged him. “I’m so glad you came.”
The hug he gave her in return wasn’t as enthusiastic as she would have liked, but she blamed fatigue. He’d traveled a long way and was dressed far too formally to not be miserable in the heat of the afternoon sun. He replaced his sunglasses and without smiling said, “Mom and Dad sent me after you spoke to them. They said you think you’re staying here.”
Sarah waved an arm behind her and said, “I’m happy here, Charlie. For the first time in forever I feel like I know where I belong. And I’m writing. I’m halfway through a book. Can you believe it?”
He didn’t say anything, but his mouth pressed in a straight line of displeasure. “It’s time to go home, Sarah.”
Before Sarah had time to say more, Tony appeared beside them. Country met city as they sized each other up. Two men who were used to intimidating those around them squared off in a bit of a standoff, as if waiting to see who would blink first. Sarah took Tony’s left hand in hers. “Tony, this is my brother, Charlie.”
Tony held out his hand and said, “Welcome.”
Charlie hesitated just long enough to make Sarah want to kick him. Not here. Not now. Don’t judge this, Charlie. He means too much to me.
“Charles,” her brother said, correcting Sarah’s title for him. Their handshake looked a bit brutal on both sides. “So, this is your place.” He dropped Tony’s hand and looked around.
Tony nodded once.
Trying to lighten the mood, Sarah asked, “You must be tired, Charlie. Let’s go in the house. It’s much cooler in there.”
Her brother glanced over his shoulder at the white ranch house, then back at Sarah. His tone was arctic cold. “Is that where you’re staying?”
Tony answered for her with one curt word. “Yes.”
Charlie turned and said something to the driver, who nodded and reentered the limo, moving it to a place in the shade. “Then by all means, let’s go inside.”
As the three of them marched toward the house like it was a guillotine, Sarah searched Tony’s face. It was impossible to tell by his guarded expression if he was nervous about meeting her brother or put off by his attitude. Charlie could be a bit of a pill, but he was her only brother, and she wanted these two men to get along.
Just inside the main hallway of the house, Melanie and her son came out of the kitchen to meet them. Melanie’s reaction to seeing her brother was almost comical. Her eyes rounded, her jaw went slack, and she instantly started shoving her loose tendrils back into her ponytail.
Charlie looked over Sarah’s head at Tony and in a tone as quiet as it was deadly, he asked, “Who is she?”
Sarah jumped in, “That’s Melanie, his housekeeper.”
“Does she live here, too?”
What are you doing, Charlie? What’s with the interrogation? “She has her own house on the other side of the barn.”
“Convenient,” Charlie said, his displeasure and innuendo clear to all.
Melanie’s face reddened. “It is since I spend most of my day working here.”
“I’m sure you do.”
Tony made a noise deep in his chest that sounded an awful lot like a warning growl. “Melanie, why don’t you and Sarah take Jace into the kitchen and get us a drink. I’m sure Charles is thirsty.”
Sarah looked back and forth between the two of them. She didn’t want to leave them. She’d really wanted their first meeting to be a pleasant one, but her brother was being an ass, and if their past was anything to go by, nothing she could say would change that.
When he made up his mind, he could be as stubborn as Tony.
I don’t know why I thought he’d approve.
He’s never approved of anything I’ve ever done.
He’ll say this is for my own good, but it’s about him. Without me, he’s probably afraid he’ll have to go home and deal with Mom and Dad himself.
Don’t judge me for leaving, Charlie—you left a long time ago.
It was that last thought that convinced Sarah that Charlie deserved whatever Tony was about to say to him.
I can’t punch Sarah’s brother.
I’d love to, but I shouldn’t. Tony took a calming breath. “It would mean a lot to Sarah if you pretended to be happy for her.”
Charles whipped off his sunglasses and glared at Tony. “I deal in facts, not fantasy like she does. You may have her fooled, but I’ve had you investigated, and I don’t like anything I learned about you.”
One corner of Tony’s mouth curled sarcastically. “I’m beginning to understand why she had to leave Rhode Island.”
His face red with fury, Charles snarled, “You’re a violent drunk who should be rotting in jail instead of making a fool out of my sister in all the gossip rags.”
A deadly calm swept through Tony. His past had found a voice at last. He went toe to toe with Charles, striking out at him with words in a way he knew would wipe that superior look off his face. “I haven’t had a drink in four years. My guilt or innocence is my own business. But your sister, she’s a good fuck.” He regretted the words even as they came out of his mouth.
Charles hauled back to punch Tony, but Tony caught his fist in his hand, his strength buoyed by a rage that had simmered inside him for years. He dropped it in disgust and prepared for another strike.
Melanie’s voice was heard clearly in the charged quiet moment that followed. “Sarah, he didn’t mean that.”
Tony’s head spun in time to see the two glasses of lemonade in Sarah’s hands fall and shatter on the wooden floor at her feet. Shaking her head slowly back and forth, she turned and ran out the front door.
Tony looked back at Charles just in time to receive a brain-rattling punch that set him back a step. The world beneath Tony tilted and he shook his head to clear it, preparing to deliver a crushing rebuttal.
Melanie was between them before he raised his fist. She was spitting angry. She threw her glasses of lemonade in their faces,
which brought them both to a shocked, temporary cease-fire. “You two just broke that girl’s heart. If one of you doesn’t chase after her to apologize, I’m coming back with a frying pan.”
The real concern in Melanie’s voice focused Tony’s attention on Sarah’s vulnerability. This wasn’t about what her brother thought of him. He’d let the mention of his past cause him to say something he would always regret.
Melanie didn’t look like she needed any help defending her honor. She wasn’t joking about the frying pan. Tony set off in long strides to find Sarah.
She was holding onto the railing in the corner of the porch, her pale cheeks wet with tears. He went to stand beside her, searching for what to say to erase the hurt he’d caused.
She turned to him, folded her arms protectively across her chest, and said, “Is that what you think of me? What I am to you?”
He shook his head. “Of course not.”
Her tear-filled eyes searched his. “I want to believe you. I really do, but I need you to give me a reason to.”
“What do you want me to say?” he asked, his gut clenching painfully.
She wiped her cheeks with her hands and implored, “Tell me you love me. Tell me this is real and that this summer has meant as much to you as it has to me.”
He reached for her, but she pulled back, waiting.
He wanted to say what he knew she needed to hear. He wanted to so badly that he almost did, but he chose honesty at the last second. “I care about you.”
She released an audible, shaky breath and demanded. “But you don’t love me. Say it. Stop pretending to be someone I could spend the rest of my life with, and just say it.”
He rubbed his chin and shook his head sadly. “I want to love you.”
Her eyes filled with tears, but she straightened her shoulders and said, “Okay.”
He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. He’d never wanted to hurt her. He grabbed her arm. “I didn’t mean what I said back there to your brother. I let my temper choose my words and I’m sorry.”