Body Language: The Boot Knockers, Book 2 (15 page)

He shot her a look that made her twist. “Not yet.” He continued lower. As he zigzagged his tongue back and forth between the loops of rope on her legs, she thought she’d lose her mind. Her pussy throbbed, and her clit felt five times its normal size.

“Please.”

“I love seeing you in my ropes. Fucking gorgeous.” Suddenly he pushed up, eyes wide. “I need photos.”

He got off the bed and behind the camera lens. When he dipped his eye to the lens, he growled, raising the hair all over her body. “God, baby, I can’t…just
fuck
.” He snapped half a dozen pictures while she lay there, unable to move.

It was the biggest turn-on of her existence.

He raised his head above the camera and looked at her hard. “Will you allow me to set the timer while we make love?”

Her throat closed off with a lump of emotion. Her voice sounded as if she’d swallowed gravel. “Yes.”

He came toward the bed, cock steely against his abs. She wanted to reach for it. When his knees hit the bed, the mattress sank beneath her, stretching her limbs. The delicious bite of hemp on her flesh stimulated her further.

“I need you, baby. Just like this.” He rolled his cock through his tight fist before slipping on a condom. Then he lowered himself between her legs. He aimed his shaft toward her drenched pussy.

“Ohhhh.” She needed him inside her. Now. But he was sinking in millimeter by millimeter it seemed. If she had use of her legs, she’d hook them around his spine and jerk him into her.

Before he was buried inside her, the camera had snapped three photos. She tried to move, needing more.

“Slow down, doll. We have all night.”

But no more.

The clock was ticking away their time together. That panic flowed into her veins again. She wanted to go back to the moment he’d chosen her and relive the entire week.

Need stole her mind. Her breathing grew choppy as he filled her with his cock. He hovered over her, barely touching the rest of her. “Kiss me,” she said.

He didn’t just kiss her—he ravaged her lips. He swept her mouth with his tongue until she thought she’d release from just a kiss. With one solid thrust he stretched her pussy.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“You’re so big.”

He sucked her tongue and lips then moved down to her throat. She felt him marking her with his rough beard and his mouth. She didn’t care. Going home wearing hickeys would reinforce that she’d been here in his arms.

And the camera was still going off too—more evidence that none of this had been dreamed.

Love bound her to him as surely as the ropes he’d used on her. As he plunged into her body, her world narrowed to include only Damian.

“Baby. I can’t hold back. I’m going to fucking come.”

His words thrilled her, and suddenly she clung to the edge of ecstasy. Heat climbed her insides as he tunneled through her inner walls, stroking every hidden inch of her.

“I’m there!” His face contorted, he paused in his thrusting, and Ruthie’s body clamped around him as her own release shook her.

His thrusts filled her pussy as she contracted around him. The bed rocked and the camera clicked. Her passion was off the charts.

When he slowed his movements, she turned her mouth into his, kissing him long and deep. He tasted of everything good she’d ever known about the world. She never wanted to walk away.

After Damian’s body convulsed with a final shudder, he pressed a tender kiss to her throat. Without a word, he began to unbind her, rubbing each inch of skin he exposed. Warmth tingled in her body.

When he’d finished untying her, she pulled him down on top of her, memorizing his weight so she could recall it later.

“Okay, baby?” His voice was gritty.

“Yes. Wonderful, baby.” She drawled it just like he did, and he laughed.

She trailed her fingertip over his lips, making him sober. They stared into each other’s eyes. “If you let me have more time, the first word I’d teach you to write is ‘mine’.”

Chapter Twelve

Ruthie was leaving today, and Damian was nowhere to be found. As she repacked her suitcase and gathered her things from around the bungalow, her heart shredded.

Maybe it was better this way. If she didn’t see him before she left she couldn’t beg him for more. She had to get through this day without breaking down. Pack and eat before her flight, though she felt far from hungry.

She dug her cell out of the drawer where Damian had placed it the previous night and didn’t bother to look at the screen. She hadn’t bothered to call Andrew after their exchanged texts. As soon as she got home she’d drive to his house and tell him the truth.

She’d fallen for someone else—someone she couldn’t have. But he didn’t need to know that. Hopefully Andrew would move on and find someone who better suited him.

Like Damian fits me.

She shook herself. “I can’t think these things.”

A rap at the door made her heart leap. She strode through the bungalow, noting a pair of her panties was wadded in the sofa cushion and she’d have to pack them. Before she reached the door, she realized Damian wouldn’t be on the other side. He wouldn’t knock.

Ty stood there, smiling and holding out a silver tray with a thick envelope on top. “For Miss Ruthie.”

“Th-thank you.” She took it with a faltering smile.

He tipped his hat, and she closed the door. Her throat burned. Why was Damian avoiding her?

She leaned against the door and held up the packet. Her hands shook. Without opening it, she knew what was inside.

Pictures.

She tore into the envelope. Hundreds of photos, so stunning she didn’t recognize herself. Damian was a true master at his trade. He could earn a living with his camera.

Photos of her looking slightly nervous, then soft-eyed, and finally dazed with lust. She flipped through them and found others of her caught unawares, doing mundane things like brushing her hair or looking sleepy and disheveled, without a hint of the makeup or sexy clothes as in the beginning. Her heart thumped.

Still more photos that brought back every memory she’d recorded in her mind this past week. When she reached the ones with Damian, she gasped. Him eating the strawberry he’d slid into her pussy.

As she scanned the pictures she found more evidence of his passion. Reaching the photos taken of her bound and his cock buried in her, she slipped down to the floor.

Tears poured out, and she let the pictures scatter so she could cover her face. She couldn’t look at the various poses of love. They were illusions—glossy snapshots of lies.

She hadn’t realized how hard it would be to leave Damian and never understood what sharing her body might mean. She’d hoped to dispel her past and learn to live with an understanding of herself as a sexual person.

Swiping at her eyes, she fought to gain control. She had to clean herself up because if Damian found her in this condition, she couldn’t bear it.

She got off the floor and went into the bathroom, where she righted her appearance. Then she returned to the front room and gathered the photographs. She didn’t bother fitting them into the envelope but instead threw them on top of her clothes in her suitcase and zipped it shut.

At Damian’s knock, Hugh looked up from the files of the new clients he was poring over. “Come in, Vince.”

He straightened to his full height and entered the office. This was the place where he’d first learned he was to be a Boot Knocker. Where he came to collect his paycheck every two weeks.

Hugh closed a file and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”

Riggs popped his head in and saw Damian. “Oh sorry. I’ll come back in a while.”

“No,” Damian said, beckoning him in. “I’d like to speak with both of you.”

Hugh and Riggs exchanged an alarmed look, and Damian’s pulse picked up speed. What they might suspect was absolutely true.

“I’ll get to the point. I’d like to ask for a leave of absence.”

Riggs collapsed into a chair as if his legs had buckled. Hugh drew three deep breaths before replying.

“What has brought this on?”

Damian chewed his bottom lip. There was no use in lying. These two men had been in Damian’s shoes before. “It’s Ruthie.”

Hugh smacked the heel of his hand off his desk. “Son of a bitch! I knew there was something between you.”

“If I recall correctly, I told you in the first place,” Riggs drawled.

“Yeah, well, you were fucking right. What the hell’s going on, Damian?”

With too much energy to sit, he leaned against the big oak desk. “I’m not entirely sure what’s going on. I mean, I have an inkling, but haven’t discussed it with her yet. I just want to take leave.”

“To be with her.” Hugh sighed.

“Maybe. If she’ll have me. But I’d also like to continue my education. I can’t do that when…” he waved a hand around the space, “…you know.”

Hugh took off his hat and rubbed his hand through his hair. Riggs leaned forward. “We know. The boss man here knows too and will tell you so when he can speak.”

Hugh shot him a look that suggested he’d take care of Riggs in private.

When Hugh didn’t speak for several minutes, Damian finally sank into a chair. He didn’t want to walk out of this office—and hopefully off the ranch—in bad graces. “I want to do this official-like. Sign some papers if necessary. I’m only asking for some time.”

When Hugh speared him with his gaze, he read the resignation in his boss’s eyes. Finally he said, “Fine.” He raised his voice and called for Holly. She came in seconds, and he said, “Remember those leave of absence forms we drew up when we started this business?”

“Yes.”

“I need one.”

Her eyes widened. “But we’ve never used one before.”

“I know.” He muttered something under his breath that sounded like, “We’re dropping like flies.”

Riggs grinned, and Holly hurried into the front office.

Damian eyed the pencil cup sitting on the corner of Hugh’s desk. It was made of bone and held several writing instruments that usually tormented the hell out of Damian. But not today.

He picked one up, prepared to make his signature in the strange, scribbling way he did to make it look as though he could sign his name. He knew it started with a D but had been told it was written backward. Eventually he’d just adopted a big X for most things.

When Holly entered the office bearing a two-page document, excitement lifted in Damian.

Hugh looked over the paperwork and poised his own pen over the signature line. “You sure you want to do this?”

“Absolutely.”

He heaved a sigh and pushed the document across the desk. Damian pretended to read it over, not giving a damn what it said because he knew Hugh was honest and trusted him. He never would have drawn up a document that harmed one of his cowboys.

Damian scribbled on the appropriate line.

“Archer, witness this please.” Hugh handed him a pen.

Riggs signed below them and sat back again, grinning like crazy.

Adrenaline surged to Damian’s fingertips as he realized what he’d just done. Committed to overcoming an obstacle that had tormented him for his entire life.

Committed to Ruthie.

God, he prayed she’d have him. If she couldn’t agree to long-term, he hoped she’d give him a trial run.

He shoved away from the desk, his face splitting with a smile so wide it might overlap the state boundaries.

Hugh eyed him. “You know this can be ripped up at any time.”

“I do. And thank you.” He shook hands with Riggs and Hugh, feeling bittersweet about the situation. He’d miss the hell out of the guys but not the ladies. He only wanted one.

“Get outta here. She’s probably waiting for you,” Hugh said.

Jittery as a teen boy about to ask out his first girl, Damian launched himself through the door. On his way out of the office, he heard Hugh say, “Must be some insect biting the guys.”

“Yeah,” Riggs said with a smile in his voice, “you were one of those being bitten.”

As Damian sprinted across the fields to Bungalow 11, his mind raced ahead to what he’d say to Ruthie. How would she react? After the previous night he couldn’t believe she’d turn him away. And this morning he’d spent long minutes staring at their photos and thinking that the face of love looked like Ruthie’s.

He burst into the bungalow. “Baby!”

All was still. He strode into the bedroom, expecting to see her. He turned a circle, his stomach icy cold with fear. Her suitcase was gone.

He grabbed his cell from his back pocket and speed-dialed Holly. “She’s gone. Did you get someone else to drive her to the airport?”

“What? No.”

“Dammit. Okay, I’ll find her.”

He ran back out of the bungalow and slammed the door behind him. When his boots hit the turf, he took off running again.

“Damian! Where’s the fire?” Ty called.

He skidded to a stop, breathing hard. “You know where Ruthie is?”

His face revealed he didn’t. “No.”

Without responding, Damian took off again, barreling across the gravel patch to where he parked his truck. He knew in his gut she’d set off on foot, maybe after calling herself a cab.

The Boot Knockers Ranch was situated forty-five minutes from the nearest city with a taxi service, so Damian had time to catch her if she was on foot.

He broke into a sweat and peeled out of the parking spot, heading at a clipped pace down the driveway. Dust flew off his tires, leaving a cloud. He had to find her. If necessary he’d hop a flight and follow her right to her door.

As he navigated the bumpy driveway leading to back roads, he peered at the horizon, eager to spot Ruthie. He came over a rise, slowing as he did. His heart seized.

She was walking down the middle of the road, wheeling her suitcase behind her. A shiver of emotion ran through him. He downshifted and rolled on until she glanced over her shoulder.

She moved to the side of the road, looking hot and dusty in a white sundress and her cowgirl boots and hat.

Clenching the steering wheel hard, he moved up beside her. She looked into the cab and her face paled.

“Get in, doll.”

She continued to walk, the wheels on her suitcase bouncing over a big pothole.

“Ruthie.”

She didn’t look at him but raised her finger to the corner of her eye. God, she was crying, and it was all his fault. What had he done to make her leave?

“Baby. Please get in and talk to me.”

She shook her head and kept walking.

“Ruthie!” He depressed the truck horn, and she jumped at the blare.

When she swung her gaze in his direction, fire lit her eyes. It was better than tears. Her features shivered and she arranged them into a stillness that made his heart pump harder yet.

“I’m looking for a schoolteacher. Know any?”

She stopped walking and looked at her feet, which he was going to tie to the bed every night of her life if she’d let him. “I might.”

“Well, I have a problem. You see, I need to learn how to read and I don’t trust just anybody to teach me.”

As she met his gaze, he saw hope leap in her eyes. Her chest rose and fell.

“I need to learn to write one word right away.”

Her lip quivered. Her voice was barely audible over the quiet truck engine. “What’s that?”

He cut the engine and hopped out of the truck. As he circled to where she stood on the road, worry that she wouldn’t let him touch her filled his head. But at his approach, she swayed toward him.

He caught her by the upper arms and thrust his mouth an inch away from hers.
“Mine.”