DOTTY (The Naughty Ones Book 3) (6 page)

“I’m sorry about last night.”

“Fine.”

“I was pissed at Rafferty and I took it out on you instead of thanking you for cooking me a meal you didn’t have to.”

I want to push back and grind into him even as the hurt returns.

“Okay.”

“Dot. Talk to me, baby.”

I love those endearments and love even more that he growls them in a voice hard with lust and gravelly with need, but he treated me so cruelly, just like everyone else, and it’s hard to get past.

“All my life no one has really seen me. My parents, my siblings, even my friends, bless them, because you know, I’m not loud or a fighter and I don’t really make myself the center of attention. That was fine because I got used to it, but I thought you at least wouldn’t do that to me. You completely ignored me last night because of something that was more important, and I don’t need that.”

His hands still at my words and I want to take them back immediately when I hear how pitiful and needy I sound.

“I don’t expect you to be all over me or anything, and God knows it’s not like I expect all this emotional stuff from you, but I won’t spend three weeks here being Dot the shadow for you to take out whenever you want me. And I certainly do not appreciate you barking orders at me like that. I am not a dog.”

That gets me whipped around so fast my head spins, and I’m gazing up at over six feet of angry man beast as I try to rein in the heavy arousal pulsing through my system.

“I would never want you to feel that way and I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I just didn’t want you to have to spend the entire night with me in a pissed-off mood. Don’t ever call yourself a shadow again, and if I hear you saying that it’s okay for others to overlook you, I’ll definitely not take it well. You hear me?”

This man is so sexy, even sexier when he’s angry and hard and glaring down at me with all that pent-up emotion. I like that emotion because it means that whatever happens between us in these three weeks, we’ll be more than just  buddies or some emotionless fling.

“Okay. I get it. I’m sorry I got so bent out of shape.”

“No, not okay. I brought you here to have a good time and relax and here I ruined our first night together because I’m an asshole with a bad temper.” He sighs, running a hand through his dark hair and down his face.

“It wasn’t ruined,” I say hastily, smirking when he raises a brow. “Okay, so it was a smidge ruined. Don’t sweat it, though, we have three weeks to get it right. Right?”

His eyes go heavy again and he plants his hands on the counter, caging me in as his mouth lowers and he kisses me softly.

“That’s right, baby doll. We have time, and I plan to make the most of it. Now, what would you like to do today?”

“Do? What do you mean? I thought you were going out with the guys to work the land or whatever,” I stammer, not liking the thought of him catering to me all the time when I know he’s been excited about coming here.

“Can’t give you a vacation worth remembering if I’m always up to my elbows in cow shit and rattlers, babe.”

“No. You are not spending all day hanging around here when you want to be out there doing your cow things. How about if I tag along and watch? I can throw together something to take with when lunch rolls around, and just sit somewhere and watch what you’re doing.”

Please Jesus, don’t let that rattlers quip mean anything
, I beg silently. I like it here and all, but snakes are not natural, and the thought of one of those demons slithering up beside me makes me get the willies.

Paul, seeing my expression, laughs and shakes his head.

“Too hot and dangerous out there for my girl.”

“Fine. Then you go on and do what you need to and come back around lunch. I want to look at that garden out back anyway because some ass has been neglecting it.”

That seems to surprise him and I find myself giggling a little when he cocks his head and grins.

“You garden?”

Dude, no I do not. The last plant I had died in a blaze of dried-up leaves and a drooping stem. I’ll probably kill whatever I touch but it’s better than nothing.

“Fine. Kiss me and I’ll go, but you’d better be ready for lunchtime because then this shit is on,” he drawls, pulling me close for a hot, tongue-duelling kiss that leaves me panting and glassy eyed when he finally sets me away.

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

This Girl Is On Fire

Dot

I was right about the garden and dismally wrong about my lack of a green thumb, I think as I finish weeding the little plot and rise to my feet, stretching my back with a groan.

My skirt is filthy and I probably reek from hours spent in the scorching sun, but the garden looks a lot better than it did before.

There are tomatoes, beans, what I surmise is squash, and cabbage of all things. Nasty shit that, and so ironic that I carefully tended it instead of letting it die like it deserves, but I feel great.

See, I love working hard and seeing results, and what’s more, I like knowing that in a few weeks before it starts cooling down the vegetables will be ready for canning and whatever the heck else I can figure to do with it.

I’m no ranch wife and I know nothing about canning or keeping things preserved for later use, but I figure Google has always been my friend and I hate waste.

Not that I’ll be here for any of it, I remind myself for the millionth time as I trudge indoors and go for a shower. When the water hits me and soothes my aching muscles I groan and just fall against the wall in bliss.

Oh shower, you art mine pal
, I groan, hating the thought of having to reach up and wash my hair.

Note to self, take yoga in the park with Gruffy because this is not natural.

I’m a little stiff and all kinds of exhausted from little more than a putter around a garden. What a wimp.

“Well now, I’m sadly disappointed not to see that beautiful shade of red between your legs.”

That slow drawl has me spinning around and I hunch and try to cover myself when I see a grinning Paul lazing against the doorjamb, his arms crossed at his chest as he continues to peruse my body.

Feeling self-conscious is childish but I can’t help it. The man is shirtless and looks like a sex god while I know that I am not perfect.

“Paul. A little privacy here?”

“Nope. I like the view, and besides, what I have planned for you, you won’t be hiding a single thing from my hands and mouth. Or my eyes.”

So freaking hot the way he’s licking his lips and trying to get a look at my junk.

“Get on out here, baby. Let me see what I’m about to take.”

I find the courage somewhere to shut the water off and step out of the shower stall, my breath hitching when he comes closer with a towel and gets to his knees.

He’s so gentle and thorough as he towels me dry, his lips landing on my skin every once in a while in a soft caress that has me twitching long before he finally has me ready for the next step.

“Let me comb your hair, babe.”

The soft strokes as he gently untangles my hair are relaxing and I almost jump right out of the room when suddenly he just drops to his knees and pulls my belly into his face, his tongue penetrating my navel before venturing up in a slow slide to the bottoms of my small breasts.

He plays there, licking, sucking, nibbling for a long time before I spear my fingers into his hair and push my nipple at him. He’s so tall that even on his knees he reaches me easily.

“Oh my.”

Strong pulls and his growl of satisfaction have my knees buckling and I find myself swept up and carried to the bed, his mouth never breaking contact with my breast.

“So beautiful.”

His groan is a long breath and I groan too when he lowers me to the bed and leaves my flesh, the bud protesting the desertion with a howl of frustration.

Paul isn’t done yet, and I find myself ready to explode when he shucks his shoes and pants and crawls up the bed to me, the thick stalk so close to where I want him that I can’t stop my hips from rolling up.

I’ve never taken the time to fully explore a man’s body but I do now, suddenly ravenous to touch and taste every inch. Paul is muscled everywhere but it’s not designer muscle that stares me in the face when I sit up and reach out a hand to touch.

No, this is the body of a man who works the land whenever he gets the chance, and it’s such a turn-on I moan when his abdominal muscles flex beneath my hands.

“You’re so big.”

He laughs and I duck my head with a blush when I realize what I’ve just said.

“I mean…”

“I know what you mean, baby, but I like your blushes so teasing you isn’t something I can avoid.”

My hands have mapped him from shoulders to thighs and I pause at his sex, my hands trembling as I look up at him nervously.

“Touch me, babe. God yes, just like that. Your hands are so soft.”

He pants raggedly when I close a fist around him and squeeze, my heart beating hard when a small drop of glistening liquid seeps out.

Paul pumps his hips into my fist once before pulling back and lifting my head when I would have gone in for a taste, his eyes wild and desperate.

“Can’t. I’ll come too quick if you put your mouth on me, baby.”

He pushes me to my back and starts kissing me.

His mouth is soft and seems to make love to mine even as he pulls my thighs around his hips and settles himself over me.

I feel him everywhere, blanketing me as he tests my readiness with the crown of his sex and settles it against my clit.

“I can use a condom if you want me to. I’m clean but…”

“Me too. And I’m on the pill,” I moan, pushing up, my breath hissing out when he glances over my opening and slides back up.

I should be so embarrassed that I’m already wet and ready for him with nothing more than a few kisses and some nipple action, but as he takes the hint and slides into me, his eyes locked to mine, all I can manage is a hiss at the tight fit.

Paul is big, much bigger than any of my previous partners, and I feel that now as he slowly pushes in and meets resistance.

“Relax, baby, let me in,” he croons, kissing me again before moving a thumb down to rub at my swollen clit.

The pleasure shoots through me like a lightning strike and I feel myself open to accept him as he bears down and keeps advancing till I’m so full I want to scream.

It’s perfect and right and so good that when he pulls back and comes back into me I whimper my enjoyment and push up to take him quickly, hard, needing more than the slow slide he’s so intent on.

“Don’t move. Christ you’re so tight I could come right now, Dot. Fuck. Yes,” he moans when I grab his hips and hold him inside me, clenching around him in a way that shoots me higher.

The sex gets dirty then, and I scream my satisfaction when he pulls back and starts slamming into me, his strokes long and hard, grinding into my mound on every downward tilt.

It’s never been this way. I’ve never felt this full and consumed, never felt every inch of my lover as he drags out and pushes back in. I feel Paul. His cock dominates me and takes in a way that’s both too much and not enough all at the same time.

“Feel me, baby. Yes. You feel how your body wants me in here?”

“Yes, yes I do,” I scream, my nails digging into his ass as I try to meld myself with him. His ass flexes with every movement and it feels so good I can hardly catch my breath.

When it happens, when I feel that buildup in my sheath and clit before letting go and exploding, it’s so intense I don’t have the breath to do anything but gasp and pull him deeper.

The contractions, the rippling, hard shattering deep inside has me flooding us both with my honey, but that just seems to spur him on.

“Yes, that’s it, squeeze me, baby. Drink all of me down.”

He comes with a snarl and gnashing teeth and the feel of him pumping so deep and hard has me going over again, my sheath pulling so tight I hear him curse and go stiff as more heat fills me.

Minutes later I regain myself only to feel Paul crushing me into the bed, his body still quaking and letting off small spurt before he goes completely lax and groans into my neck.

I know the feeling. I’m so spent and boneless I feel like moving ever again would kill me.

              Paul Summers is, without a doubt, the first man who has ever made me feel this way, and if I didn’t know better I would totally think that what I’m feeling right now goes far beyond a crush and into the realm of an emotion I don’t want or need to feel right now.

This was too intimate, too…everything, and yet as I feel him push up and stare down at me I know that I don’t regret it and that I would do it over and over again till I have no choice but to let him go and walk away.

Still feeling his stare, I pry my eyes open to see him looking down at me with an expression that has me clenching around his softening sex.

“Hey, baby doll. You okay?”

I force myself to smile and nod slowly. I can’t talk right now with the emotions trying to bubble up and overwhelm me, so instead I push up and kiss him slowly, sweetly, letting him know that I am so with him right now.

“I have about a million things to say right now but none of them will do justice to what I just felt. All I can say is thank you for letting me have this gift, and hell, I hope it was good enough that you’ll let me do it again.”

I giggle at that, loving this playful side of him, and kiss him again before flopping back down and smiling smugly.

“I’ll definitely consider that, Mr. Summers.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Definitely yes. Now get off me, you big hunk of man flesh. You haven’t had lunch and after that I probably need to eat something to replace what we just blew away.”

We don’t have words of love to share, and while it feels strange to have felt all that and not share love, I still feel good enough to slap his ass on my way to the bathroom and thoroughly bask in the glow that’s invaded me.

One thing I have got to say. Paul Summers just lit up my whole world and set me on fire, and boy am I glad I have three weeks of this to look forward to.

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