Looking for Trouble

He backed her up to the flat wood planks of the railing. He could let go of her hips now and stay pressed to her. Her waist was a slight curve under his hands, and then her long, delicate back, and that arching neck. Then, finally, he cupped the back of her head and held her for a deeper kiss, his tongue working slowly against hers, letting her know exactly how he’d fuck her.

Her moan let him know she might like it.

But not tonight.

He was startled by the thought. He didn’t know where it came from. Not from her, but from some dark part of his brain. Not tonight. Not even if she’d let him. He felt...deviant, touching this woman, making her moan. He felt perverted and he liked it. He wanted to draw it out. Expose her secrets like layers of hidden need. They were there. He could feel it in the way she stretched up to take more of his tongue. More of him.

He’d give her more if that would make her happy.

Alex raised his head, pulling back from the kiss even as she tried to follow. He kept his hand cupped to her neck, holding her still as he feathered a kiss over her top lip. Then her bottom one. Then the crease of her mouth. The tip of her tongue licked at him, and he chuckled and tasted her again. He couldn’t resist it, but the kiss was quick this time, then he raised his head to look down at her.

Her face was silver in the moonlight, her pupils black as the sky when she opened her eyes.

“You shouldn’t be doing this with a stranger,” he said.

“This is a small town. You’re not really a stranger.”

Alex shook his head, knowing that wasn’t true. “No one here knows me anymore.”

She closed her eyes and raised her mouth, and when Alex kissed her again, she whispered against him, “No one knows me either.”

He could believe that. He understood that. She was a secret, right here among people she’d known all her life.

Alex bunched her skirt in his hand and raised one side of it, sliding it up her leg, waiting for her to stop him. She didn’t. His hand touched bare skin, then the warm strap of her garter belt. Jesus.

“Do you wear these to drive men crazy?” he growled.

He felt her smile against his jaw. “I wear them to drive me crazy.”

Damn. He’d thought he was hard before, but now he was in pain. Yes, she was a secret, and his hand was on the hot skin of her thigh.

He gripped her there, and her knee rose, just a few inches, just enough for her to curl her foot behind his calf and make space between her legs for him. His cock notched into place. He groaned against her neck and felt her throaty laugh vibrate through him.

“But...” she murmured, “I’m glad they drive you a little crazy, too.”

“A little,” he rasped, sliding his hand over the back of her thigh. The slippery fabric of her panties teased his thumb. He slid his hand low again, dragging it over the stocking, memorizing the wicked feel of bare flesh above silky material. His rough hand caught at the delicate threads. “Sorry,” he whispered, trying to make himself feel that, but he couldn’t. Her hips tipped up a little, like she liked it. Did she? That his hands were rough against her perfection? Did she want that?

He let his fingers curl all the way behind her knee, then up again, up. Over silk stocking, and the bump of the fastener and then sweet bare skin. And then...

“Oh,” she whimpered as the edge of his hand grazed between her legs, slipping along the fabric of her panties. His thumb edged beneath them as he cupped the bottom of her ass and hauled her tighter to his cock.

Her hips rocked against him. Alex closed his eyes and tried not to moan like a boy dry-humping his first girlfriend. But it felt that good, and his heart pounded with the shocking pleasure of it, just as it had in junior high.

Maybe it was something in the air. A perk of returning to the same sights and smells he’d hit puberty with. Or maybe it was that his whole hand was under her panties now, cupping her naked ass while she slowly, slowly worked herself against his torturously covered shaft.

For a moment, he imagined it. Unzipping his jeans, setting his cock free, pulling her underwear to the side, then just plunging deep, feeling her pussy drag hot and wet over him as he sank into her body. She’d love it. She’d arch up and ride him and come all over him, screaming and bucking.

And then they’d be done.

Somehow he knew that, and he didn’t want this done. Not that quickly.

So instead of setting his throbbing cock free, Alex edged back and eased her leg down. Her eyes opened slowly as a confused and nearly grumpy frown took her mouth, but when he slipped his hand down the front of her panties, her lips parted on a sigh.

His did, too. There was nothing but bare skin under that little triangle of satin fabric. Bare skin, and plump lips, and sweet, hot wetness that led his fingers right where they wanted to go.

Taking it slow or not, Alex now wished they were inside. In his sad, anonymous hotel room, in the dreary light of that bedside lamp, on worn white sheets, so he could strip off this dress and these panties and fucking see her. God. The stockings and garter belt and perfect, parting legs and the pinkness of her, shining with wetness, begging for his mouth, his hands, his cock.

This was torture, sliding his fingers along her, feeling the way her hips jumped as he grazed her clit, and all of her was hidden by the modest skirt of her dress. He grazed her clit again, and the hand that had been clutching his biceps let him go and curved around the top of the railing to hold tight.

“Oh, God,” she groaned.

Power flooded his veins. He was going to make her come right here. Right now. A truck roared by, the pale edge of light skimming down her neck and body and highlighting the way his arm disappeared beneath her skirt. She didn’t even glance toward the road, though she did murmur, “We shouldn’t be doing this.” But it wasn’t an admonition. It was encouragement. He could hear the eager edge of it in her voice and feel it in the way her thighs eased the tiniest bit farther apart.

We shouldn’t be doing this and that’s why it’s so good.

Her eyes opened. “We really shouldn’t,” she whispered, sounding almost sad this time, but then her free hand slipped up his neck and pulled him down.

God. Yes. Now his tongue was in her hot, wet mouth and his fingers were in her hot, wet pussy and she whimpered into him as he took her both ways.

He pushed two fingers deep inside her and swallowed her wild cry.

Her nails bit into his neck, and when he thrust again, her second cry was just as rough as the first. He would’ve paused, would’ve gentled his touch, but her hips rocked up for more.

Goose bumps broke out over his neck and down his arm as he realized that if he was hurting her...she liked it. His heart beat harder. So hard he could feel it in his throat as he fucked her with his fingers and she whimpered and sucked at his tongue.

She wanted this. She fucking needed it.

When her cries finally quieted to desperate whimpers, Alex slipped his fingers back to her clit and stroked her there.

Her mouth broke free then as she threw back her head with a gasp, but he couldn’t stop thinking of the way she’d sucked at his tongue. Like that was part of her need, part of what she wanted. A girl like her deserved everything.

He kept stroking her clit, listening to her breath grow rougher and faster, and he slid his other hand up her shoulder, up her neck, then spread his fingers over her jaw. Her neck arched higher, as she stretched under his touch. Her mouth was still red, lipstick perfect. He imagined that she bought lipstick with staying power just so she could look like this while she fucked.

Alex slid his thumb between her parted lips, into her heat, and she sucked.

The sensation punched him in the gut and made his desperate cock throb in pain.

“Fuck,” he growled, sliding his thumb deeper as he circled her clit faster.

She moaned and sucked harder, her hips working against his touch in tiny little thrusts, as if she couldn’t stop herself from fucking his hand.

“That’s it,” he murmured, leaning in until his mouth was near her ear. “That’s what you like.” Her groan vibrated through the bones of his thumb and straight into his entire nervous system. Fuck, he wanted that pretty little red mouth around his cock. He wanted her moaning for him, sucking at him, trying to make him come, because that was what she fucking needed.

The heat of her mouth slid away as she pulled back with a cry. The pain of her nails in his skin brightened as she clutched tighter. “Oh, God,” she sobbed as her hips jumped. Then her words dissolved on a sob of pleasure as he felt the spasms take her over. Her scream echoed down the river as he pressed her tighter to the railing and made her ride every wave of her orgasm.

“Please,” she finally begged, and he stilled his hand. Her clit jumped under his fingers as she shivered one last time.

His thumb was pressed to her bottom lip. Her mouth glistened with moisture. She was calming now, but his breath shuddered from his throat as he tried to control his need. He finally managed to ease back, slipping his hand free from her soaked panties. His fingers felt too cold without the heat of her pussy around them.

She finally opened her eyes. “Oh,” she breathed. He was trying to grab some control, but her hands ventured up his chest and then behind his neck. She tried to pull him down. Alex shook his head.

“Give me a second.” If he kissed her now, he’d lose it. He’d fuck her. He would fall to his knees and beg her for it, and nobody wanted that. So Alex let his head tip back and he breathed the cool night air and watched stars wink in and out of the traveling clouds.

He could do this. He could wait. Because if he didn’t, she’d call it a good date and keep it secret and go back to her life. He knew it from how she’d said no to a ride at first, and then how she’d hidden him away in a tourist trap, and used him for a little night adventure that no one else would see.

If they fucked, the adventure would be complete. Where was the fun in that?

His dick protested that there’d be loads of fun in that, but he managed to ignore it.

“Let me,” Sophie murmured, her hands sliding down now. Down his chest to his belly, then to his belt. His heart twisted so hard he thought it might have torn free of something important.

Let me...let me touch your cock, set it free, get my pretty little hot mouth around it until I suck you dry.

Oh, fuck.

He stepped back with a pained laugh. She frowned in complete confusion.

“Next time,” he said hoarsely, shaking his head at his own strained patience.

“What next time?”

“The next time I see you.” He knew by the way she winced that he’d been right.

“No,” she said. “This time.” Her fingers hooked into his belt and tugged him closer. His feet took a step before he could convince his body that he really meant to say no.

He huffed another half-tortured laugh and closed a hand over both of hers. “You’re trying to tell me there won’t be a next time, aren’t you?”

Her gaze slipped away from him. She cleared her throat.

Alex smiled. “And I’m telling you there will be.”

“I can’t. You don’t understand. This isn’t...a thing. It can’t be. And you’re leaving in a few days. So...”

“So. There’s tomorrow. Unless you have other plans.”

She opened her mouth, but he cut her off.

“Even if you have other plans.”

That narrowed her eyes. He wanted to smile, but he suspected there might be a temper under those mild manners. Sophie raised her chin. “You can be as bossy as you want, but there’s no reason for me to see you again. I already got what I needed.”

Oh, he smiled now. A wide smile full of every filthy thought he was thinking. He stepped closer again, backing her into the railing, just as she’d been earlier when she was coming.

“Oh, Sophie,” he whispered. Her fingers tightened around his belt as he raised a hand to brush his knuckles over her jaw. “I can tell by how hard you sucked my thumb before you came that you didn’t get half of what you really need.”

When his thumb touched her lip, her eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment as her breath whispered over him. Then she jerked her chin away and shoved him.

Alex stepped back, but he was still smiling. “Come on, darlin’. I’ll give you a ride home.”

“I won’t invite you in.”

“I didn’t ask to come in.”

She stared at him for a moment, then raised her chin and brushed past him. Alex watched her walk. Her hips swayed as enticingly as ever, but he could see she wasn’t quite steady. Next time, she’d be too weak to move. He’d make sure of it.

CHAPTER FIVE

“HI, DAD,” SHE called out as the screen door slammed behind her.

“Hey, princess,” his deep voice called from the back of the ranch house.

Sophie headed toward the bright yellow kitchen and the scent of coffee. He was there, of course, hands warming around a steaming mug and eyes on the cattle prices in the newspaper. He could get more current figures online, which she’d explained a million times. She’d even bookmarked it on his laptop for him, but he hated the computer. Which was why she was here.

“Everything good?” she asked, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

He patted her arm and nodded. “Things are fine.”

She grabbed a cup of coffee and headed for the small office tucked between the kitchen and his bedroom. The ancient office chair creaked ominously when she took a seat, but the sound made her smile. She’d loved this chair when she was little and would sit in the corner and color while her dad worked. The casters and base were made of steel, the seat itself upholstered in thick, ugly green leather. It would never wear out. It was steady. Like her dad.

“Did you get the new bank statement?” Sophie asked.

He still banked with a local ranching bank that sent paper statements. There was no talking him out of this. She’d tried.

“Honey, I’ve told you you don’t need to do this.” He edged into the little office and slipped the statement onto the ledger.

“Dad.” She didn’t want to have this conversation for the thousandth time.

“We’re fine out here. There’s no reason for you to spend almost an hour driving out here to be holed up in this office. A young woman like you should be enjoying life in town.”

She’d been opening her mouth to protest, but she closed it now. Oh, she was enjoying life in town plenty. Thank God she was facing the desk, because she could feel the red-hot blush that flashed over her face. She heard her father walk back into the kitchen.

Last night had been her best adventure yet. It had been hot and naughty and satisfying and perfect. And so completely wrong. One hundred percent wrong. Not because she’d let a near stranger on a motorcycle get her off on a highway pull-off in full view of anyone who might have decided to pull in. No. That she could definitely live with. But because Alex didn’t know who she was. More importantly, because Sophie knew exactly who she was.

The daughter of Dorothy Heyer. The heir of all the heartbreak and scandal her mother had caused. For Sophie. For her stepfather and brother. And for Alex’s family, too.

Not that Alex’s father was somehow absolved from the affair. Sophie was no believer in boys will be boys. The idea disgusted her. Both of them had been married. Both had had families. And both had ruined lives with their reckless choices. But in a small town twenty-five years ago, no one else had seen it that way.

If they’d run off, if they’d abandoned children and spouses... Well, sometimes men did things like that. But women? That just wasn’t natural. It wasn’t right. Dorothy Heyer hadn’t been right. And Sophie wasn’t right either. She just made sure that no one else knew that.

Especially not Alex Bishop.

“God,” she whispered, dropping her face into her hands. That had been such a bad idea. But he’d seduced her. With his bike and his tattoos and that hard smile and then Alaska. How was she supposed to have resisted that?

With your legs closed, a little voice inside her admonished. Sophie clenched her teeth and wished she could slap that little voice. All of those things were the perfect invitation to open her legs, not close them. And he’d been so confident, too. So in control.

The nerves between her legs twitched at that thought. Of his hands on her, so steady and strong and calloused, of the way he’d kissed her, fingers cupped to the back of her head to position her just the way he wanted.

Oh, God, that had been hot. It was exactly what she always wanted. He was the perfect temporary adventure, the man she was hoping for every time she flirted with a stranger at a bar. And he was Rose Bishop’s son.

“Damn it,” she whispered.

“Something wrong?” her dad called.

“No! It’s fine.” She needed to concentrate. An hour or two of work, and then she could enjoy her day off. Spend some time in the garden. Do some work around the house.

Sophie crossed her legs, smoothed down her skirt and opened the statement. Everything looked good. She took good care of the books. There’d been a hiccup when her brother had dropped out of college and played at being in charge for a few months. A hiccup that had taken years to straighten out, but everything was right as rain now. Her dad was still scraping by with his small cattle ranch, but just barely.

It had been a much larger ranch twenty-five years ago. Thousands of acres leased and deeded. Not a lot of the acreage had been flat, but the hills had been good summer grazing. Then Greg Heyer’s wife had disappeared. His kids had needed tending. He’d let things go that summer. The next year, beef prices had plummeted. He’d sold off land and leases and cattle. The year after that, a drought had hit hard. It hadn’t let up for three years. He’d sold off more. Now he was down to a tenth of what he’d owned before, and he was almost seventy years old and hired out some of the rougher work.

Sophie finished balancing the account and reached for the basket that held the bills. This part always made her chest tight, but it was okay. Her dad was fine. With her help, he could keep this place going for another decade if he wanted to. He didn’t seem to want to sell, and she wasn’t going to try to talk him into it. As hardscrabble as it was, this place was his life.

“Before I forget,” her dad said, his voice just behind her in the doorway, “your mail is in the bedroom.”

“Thanks.”

“You should really change your address.”

“I’m not going to stay in Uncle Orville’s house forever, Dad. I don’t want to bother changing my address just to have to change everything back again.”

“It’s been a year, Sophie. I think you’re plenty settled into town now. Why in the world would you want to come back out here?”

Because this was her home. Because he was her family. Because she took care of things for him and she always would.

But living in town did have its advantages. Privacy, namely. Granted, on those occasions when she met a man who seemed to push her buttons, she preferred going back to his hotel room. It was less conspicuous that way. No neighbors to notice and comment. No lifelong acquaintances to realize who Sophie really was. Only tourists and seasonal men. Just the way she wanted it.

Sophie opened the credit-card bill and noticed that her brother had been making a lot of ebook purchases again. It felt strange to resent the way he spent money on books. She was a librarian, after all. But it wasn’t that her brother was overspending on books, it was that he spent his time getting obsessed with learning some new skill he was convinced would make him successful. Gaming online auctions or selling Western crap on websites or starting his own sales lead business for web courses or a hundred other things that he’d purchased books about and then lost interest in. God knew what it was this time. Two years ago, he’d decided to sell mail-order tumbleweeds for people in the East throwing cowboy-themed parties. Then he’d realized he’d actually have to go out in the heat or cold and search for tumbleweeds. They were never around when you wanted them.

“Where’s David?” she asked, thinking if he was around she’d at least ask what he was up to.

She glanced back to see her dad’s mouth flatten. “Sleeping.”

Still asleep at 10:00 a.m. That was practically blasphemy on a ranch. But even their dad was starting to realize that David was never going to take over the ranch. It was hard for him to accept that the remaining land would be sold someday, but there it was. David could do all the work, but he didn’t love the land. Sophie loved the place and she could stumble along well enough, but she was too indoorsy for ranching. Dresses and kitten heels had no place in a corral. Not unless a big, rough man had her pinned up against a fence and—

Damn. Alex was going to haunt her for a long time.

“You want me to wake him?” her dad grumbled.

Sophie flashed him a smile. “Only if you want an excuse to get his butt out of bed.”

He laughed. “I need his help later with the yearlings. I’d better let him get his beauty sleep or he’ll be grouching around here all day.” He leaned a hip against the counter and sipped his coffee.

“You know, you don’t have to keep me company. I’m not a guest.”

He shrugged one lean shoulder, and Sophie wondered if he was getting thinner. “It’s nice to talk to you. Gets a little lonely out here these days.”

“I’m off today. Why don’t I stay and make a big lunch?”

Her dad huffed. “That’s not what I meant. Go shopping. Go have lunch with your girlfriends. Don’t spend your day off with an old man, Sophie.”

“I like being here.”

“Well, I’m afraid I’ve got a busy day later. I can’t hang around all day for lunch.”

She narrowed her eyes and watched him for a long while, trying to read his face. Was he lying just to stop her from staying around? But he gave away nothing. He just looked back at her with those pale blue eyes framed by familiar wrinkles from spending too many years in the sun.

“Okay,” she finally conceded. “But I’ll make something good for dinner before I leave. I’ll throw it in the Crock-Pot and it’ll be ready by five-thirty.”

“Thanks, pumpkin. You take good care of me.” He came over to give her a kiss on the crown of her head, then headed for the back door. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Bye, Daddy.”

Sophie tried to ignore the embarrassing amount of pride she felt at his words. She did take good care of him. She’d been doing it since she was five, and she’d be doing it until she was sixty. He needed her. She was never going to walk away from that.

With the house quiet now, Sophie was done with the bookkeeping in no time. Next week it’d be time to take stock of supplies and order in anything they needed for winter, but today’s work was pretty simple. She tidied up the desk and headed to the kitchen to throw some meat and veggies into the slow cooker. She wouldn’t be around to make gravy, but she set out a jar of premade. That man loved gravy. Hopefully, he’d clean up the leftovers with a few slices of buttered bread while no one was looking and put a few pounds on his skinny frame by next week.

Once she’d tidied up, Sophie went to her dad’s room, gathered up his dirty clothes and started a load of wash. She ignored her brother’s closed door. He’d have to learn to fend for himself if he was ever going to live on his own someday. But he probably never would. He’d gotten too used to being taken care of, and Sophie knew she had to take a lot of the blame for that. Something else to feel guilty about.

Speaking of...even the thought of the word guilt led her back to Alex Bishop.

Would she see him again? He’d seemed awfully sure that she would. And he’d been right about one thing. She did want more. A lot more.

She wanted to be near him, wanted to feel the way her skin prickled at the very sight of him. And the way she felt small and submissive when his big hands touched her. God, the man had gorgeous hands. And arms. And tattoos.