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Authors: Kate Pearce

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BOOK: Riding the Line
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‘I hope so.’ He took the notebook off her and turned the pages before returning it. ‘In the interview I’ve got to sound like I know what I’m talking about so I’m going to tell you the main points of my opening argument and you’re going to check them off and tell me what I’ve missed.’
Robyn sighed. ‘I suppose this isn’t a good time to tell you that I never learnt to read.’
He chuckled. ‘Liar, get on with it. If you’re good I’ll show you my favorite sexual position when we’re done.’
‘I already know what that is.’
‘You don’t.’
‘You’re a male. It’s the missionary. That’s all men’s favorite position.’
‘Not me, honey. But I’m not sharing until we get this done.’
She grimaced at the closely written pages. ‘OK, you’re on. I just hope I don’t have a headache by the time we’re finished.’
‘You see, honey? Much better than the good old missionary position.’
He had her face down over the fake pine kitchen counter-top, one strong arm beneath her breasts, the other working her clit as he thrust into her from behind.
‘Why, because you don’t have to look at me?’
He bit her neck, felt her shudder, increased the tempo of his strokes.
‘Because I can keep you right where I want you, and I have access to all my favorite things.’ He slowed down until his cock just rested inside her. ‘Something so sexy about doing a woman like this.’
‘So primitive you mean.’
‘Maybe.’ He used his fingertips to pinch her clit. ‘You’re still talking, honey, and you know how I feel about that. I’d better try harder.’
‘Dakota . . .’
He began to pump into her, losing his rhythm as the urge to come pressed down on his balls, tightening them against his body. Robyn made him forget about anything but the feel of her, the scent of her arousal and the fierceness of her complete response to him. He’d never had a woman who challenged him both physically and mentally before. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever meet her like again, or wanted to.
Her climax rolled through him. He gritted his teeth and held still while her pussy clenched and released his cock like a fist. When she’d finished, he pulled out, picked her up and deposited her on the countertop. Her skin was flushed and her eyes alight with pleasure. He gathered her face in his hands and stepped back between her legs, filling her with his cock again as he filled her mouth with his tongue.
She responded instantly, her mouth a warm wet cavern, her pussy even hotter. He kept moving, never wanted to stop, never wanted to leave her, but he couldn’t hold back the wave of need crashing over him. He rocked harder, his cock slamming into her, his mouth locked over hers, capturing her cries.
Grabbing her ankles, he brought her feet up to the edge of the countertop, opening her even wider to him. He came hard, held himself rigid and still while his hot seed pumped into her. He almost shouted out when she came again, wringing every last drop of come from his overexcited cock until he thought his heart would explode.
He held her close, rocking her back and forth until his mind decided to function again, until his legs would hold him up. She nuzzled his neck, her teeth grazing his skin. His cock jerked inside her and she rubbed herself against him again. He sighed into her ear. ‘I love fucking you.’
‘I fuck you too.’ She tilted her head back to look at him.
‘Damn, you’re so persnickety.’ He kissed her mouth, used a little tongue, felt her body’s instant response to the small caress.
‘No one uses words like that anymore.’
‘Like damn?’ He kissed her again, took his time until she kissed him back.
‘You know what I mean. You ain’t no stoopid cowboy.’
‘Never said I was.’ His cock stirred and started to fill out. He wondered if she was aware of it yet. ‘Never said damn till I met you either.’
She nipped his lip, sighed when he returned the favor and wrapped one hand around his neck. Smiling, he lifted her into his arms and backed up toward the small bed. He liked her like this, sexually replete, purring in his arms, ready to be fucked again.
Her eyes widened as he leant over her and braced himself on his forearms.
‘I thought you’d already come,’ she said.
‘You thought right.’ She swallowed hard as he pulled back and then went deep, his shaft filling out with every long measured stroke. ‘But if you get to come more than once, I should too.’
Her answering smile was so sexy he almost lost what little control he had left. Every time they made love, he got to see the real Robyn beneath the flippant mask, the sensuous woman he wanted to hold on to for as long as he could.
‘Tell me your name.’ He licked her ear, kept his thrusts slow and unhurried.
‘You know my name.’
He eased up again, his strokes so shallow, her hips arched against his, seeking more. ‘Your last name.’
He winced as she dug her nails into his shoulders and shoved him off her. Her voice was high and unsteady. ‘If you already came, you need a new condom. I don’t want to get pregnant.’
He tried to gather his thoughts, to work out how to get back to the answers he wanted. ‘You’re on the pill, aren’t you?’
‘Of course I am, but I don’t particularly want to settle down and have your babies right now.’
‘Why not?’
‘Maybe I can’t see myself as mother of the year and, hell, we both know that’s what you’d want, isn’t it?’
Robyn moved away from him and sat against the headboard, arms wrapped around her knees. Dakota got off the bed and found his jeans, put them on over his aching cock. Unaccustomed anger simmered low in his gut. He knew exactly why she was getting at him but it didn’t mean he had to like it.
‘No woman is perfect,’ Dakota said.
‘Not even your mom?’
‘Don’t talk about her.’ He found his T-shirt, shoved it over his head. ‘I know you’re pissed because I asked your full name, but don’t go there.’
‘You should be glad I reminded you about the condom, Dakota.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Because if I did get pregnant, you’d probably ask me to marry you and then where would we be?’
‘Married?’
Her smile was as angry as he felt. ‘Married and miserable because how could you ever make me happy?’
He turned his back on her, picked up his notebooks and pens and stuffed them into his backpack. When he swung around she flinched away from him. The ache in his gut intensified.
‘You know what? You’re right. I couldn’t make you happy, because that’s not allowed in your world, is it? You’re so cynical about men that I could be a frickin’ saint and you’d still find fault with me.’
She widened her eyes at him, tears glinted in their depths. ‘You’re back to being a saint now, are you?’
He grabbed his keys off the countertop and headed for the door. ‘I’m just a guy who’s had about all he can take this evening.’ He tipped his hat to her. ‘I’ll be back later, OK?’
It was a relief to slam the door behind him and step out into the cool night air. He’d parked the horse rig in a small RV camp about half a mile from the nearest town. Pine trees shaded the site, giving it a gloomy closed-in look. Dried pine needles crunched beneath his boots as he walked to the main road. For the first time ever he wished he smoked, just to give his hands something to do.
The neon signs and red and green lights from a roadside bar he’d passed earlier beckoned him like a siren. God, he was a fool, thinking stupid soft stuffabout a woman who didn’t give a damn about him. He wouldn’t want her to be perfect anyway. He liked her just the way she was.
Dakota stopped dead in the middle of the path. He still liked her even though she drove him insane. What was up with that? Grayson would say he had a compulsion to save and protect the weak. Jay would simply call him a bleeding heart. He’d tried to be perfect for his mom so she’d never have a reason to be sad again, until he’d realized it was stupid. Was that it? Or was it even worse? Did he want to save Robyn to make himself feel good?
He kicked a couple of pine cones and started walking again. Hell, no. She deserved to die an old maid and probably would with an attitude like that. His steps slowed as he pictured her distraught face. He sighed. Fuck it, he was going to have to go back and get her.
Chapter Ten
 
Robyn glanced at Dakota as he sat opposite her, a frosted bottle in his hand, a smile on his face. When he’d reappeared in the trailer and told her to get dressed and come have a beer, she’d almost refused. Why would he want to be anywhere near a bitch like her? Did he know how close she’d been to telling him who she was?
Of course, she’d had to fight back, hadn’t she? Fight against her desire to please him, to tell him everything. And Dakota knew it, but she’d done it anyway, and hurt him in the process. She swallowed a lump in her throat. Was she incapable of trusting another man? He was a good guy, she knew it in her soul, and yet she still felt she had to keep him at a distance.
‘Cheers.’
She jumped as he clinked his bottle against hers. The bar was small and dark. There were only about six customers including the bartender. Country music blared from a jukebox and an elderly couple shuffled around the minute dance floor to the sound of George Strait.
‘Would you like to dance?’
Robyn blinked as Dakota put down his beer and came to stand beside her. He held out his hand.
‘Me?’
He pretended to look around. ‘Don’t see anyone else I’d like to dance with.’
‘OK, but I’m not very good.’
‘I am.’
He took her hand and guided her through the tightly packed empty tables. The music changed to a slower tempo, Dolly Parton began to wail about standing by your man. Dakota put Robyn’s hands on his shoulders and drew her close.
‘Just move your feet, honey. Let it all out.’
She laid her cheek against his chest, felt an absurd desire to just breathe him in. He wrapped his arms low around her hips bringing her against the whole of his body.
‘I’m sorry, Dakota.’
‘For what, honey?’
She shrugged, felt her nipples harden against his chest. ‘For what I said, about your mom and you.’
His lips brushed her ear and she shivered. ‘Apology accepted. I probably deserved it.’
She risked a glance up at him. His eyes were closed, his mouth relaxed in a slight smile. Warmth flowed around her, his scent as familiar now as her own. It was hard not to let herself unwind with him, to believe that because she’d started to turn her life around, fate had sent her Dakota as some kind of compensation prize. But she had to keep moving, to keep growing. Laying all her problems at a man’s feet and expecting him to save her was so not going to happen this time.
Robyn glanced to her left as the other couple moved past them and exchanged a smile with the elderly woman held in her partner’s arms. A wedding ring glinted on the woman’s finger. What would it be like to share your life with someone, to know they would be there for you even after all those years? She tilted her head back until she could see Dakota’s face.
‘Why did you come back?’ The question came out of her mouth before she even realized it.
Dakota sighed. ‘I don’t know. I just knew I couldn’t leave you there, hurting all alone.’
‘I wasn’t hurting.’
He stared into her eyes. ‘Honey, you were, and part of that was my fault.’
She shrugged. ‘I guess I’m a little defensive.’
His smile widened. ‘I guess.’
She dropped her gaze to his fancy brown boots. ‘It’s just that, whenever I’ve let my guard down, it comes back and bites me in the ass.’
He chuckled and drew her even closer. Someone coughed loudly right by Robyn’s ear.
‘Excuse me, miss?’
Robyn reluctantly raised her head. It was the woman again, her face alive with the kind of speculation Robyn knew all too well.
‘You are “her”, aren’t you?’
Robyn tried to smile as her throat closed up.
‘Robyn, the little girl from
Sparrow’s Nest
, on the TV?’ the woman continued.
Dakota stepped in front of Robyn. ‘Ma’am, I don’t think . . .’
Robyn pushed him gently to one side. ‘It’s OK, Dakota. Yeah, that’s me.’
He hesitated and looked down at her, surprise and recognition dawned on his face.
Robyn managed a laugh for the lady’s benefit. ‘I’m surprised you recognized me now that I’m all grown up.’
The woman smiled triumphantly. ‘When you’ve had as many grandbabies as I have, you know what to look for in a face. You were such a little cutie.’
‘Was I?’
The woman patted Robyn’s hand. ‘Yes, you were, sweetie.’
Dakota’s hand came to rest on Robyn’s shoulder; his fingers massaged her tight muscles. Thoughts circled in her head like a screaming chorus. Why hadn’t he walked off and left her? Why was he still there?
BOOK: Riding the Line
9.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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