Mountain Rescue, page 17
“Let it happen, sugar.” He flicked a finger over her clit again and again. “I’ve got you.”
Hot waves of pleasure coursed through her, wave after wave after wave. She lost the ability to stand, and as she headed for the floor, he caught her, and settled her on his leg. She buried her face against his neck as she tried to get control of her breathing.
“That was amazing,” she said between gulps for air. He’d quite literally ruined her boyfriend criteria. She’d liked sex, but it had always been something she could take or leave. Now though...now Dallas had shown her what was possible, he’d changed the yardstick of what she wanted from a man.
And she hadn’t even taken her panties off.
“Want to tell me why you’re laughing?” he said.
“Nope.” She lifted her head so she could see him and grinned a very happy grin. “But feel free to carry on.”
Amusement lit his eyes, then he glanced over at the nightstand. “We only have one condom until we can buy more.” His gaze returned to hers...no, his eyes snared hers. That was the only way to describe how he was looking at her. “That means that we’re going to have to get creative later, but for now, this very second, I need to be inside you. Are you okay with that?”
She was. She so was. When she realized he was waiting for an answer, she nodded like a deranged bobblehead, getting another chuckle from him. He lifted her to her feet, removed her panties, then took off his boxer briefs. She thought they would stretch out on the bed, but he sat back down.
He patted his leg. “Back on my lap.” When she sat on his leg like she’d done earlier, he said, “No, straddle me.”
“Well, duh. I guess that would work better.” She really liked it when he laughed.
“I’m pretty sure it will.” He reached over and grabbed the condom, and when he was covered, she settled on his lap and wrapped her legs around his back.
“I’ve never done it this way.” Come to think of it, her sex life had been pretty vanilla. She was sure Dallas would be able to show her all she was missing.
“No? I’m going to have fun showing you what you’ve been missing.”
“Wow, you just read my mind.” She really liked that he was playful and that she felt comfortable admitting her lack of experience.
He put his hands on her hips and lifted her. “Slide down on me.”
Chapter Seventeen
Dallas slid his eyes closed as Rachel eased down on him. Not that long ago, he’d curled up in the corner of a cell not much bigger than him and scrolled through a mental list of the things he missed. At the top was food and a pain-free day, but up there with those was the touch of a woman. Of her soft skin, her smell, of the pleasure of wrapping his body around hers and sinking deep inside her.
He’d thought—sitting in that corner, hungry and his wounds throbbing—that more than anything, he wished he could have one more intimate time with a woman before they killed him, or he did the job for them.
After his rescue and his time in the hospital, he’d come home, and hadn’t been tempted or interested in fulfilling that wish. How could he when he couldn’t stand to be touched? Now here was a woman awakening the desire that he’d feared was gone forever.
He buried his face against her neck, afraid she’d see the grateful tears in his eyes. It scared him how much he needed her, maybe forever. What if she was the only woman whose touch he’d ever be able to tolerate? How was he supposed to walk away?
“Don’t be sad,” she said.
Before he could think why she said that, she began moving. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He’d thought their first time would be hot and heavy, frantic even. Instead, it was tender and dreamy. He almost felt like he was floating on air. He’d never experienced anything like it, and he never wanted it to end.
But it did. When she clenched her core muscles around him, telling him she was close to the edge, he found her mouth, needing that connection, too. Their tongues tangled, dueled, and explored. Their breaths mingled and he felt like they were breathing for each other. He could feel her heart beating against his chest, and when she moaned into his mouth, and her hands fisted his hair, and her body shuddered, he let go, soaring with her.
* * *
“You want me to trim your hair?”
Dallas loaded the last dinner plate in the dishwasher, then stepped behind Rachel and nuzzled her neck. “But then what will you hold on to?” He’d noticed that she liked to curl her fingers around his hair when they kissed.
She peered back at him. “Oh, I think I can find a thing or two.”
“Now you have my attention.”
“I just bet.” She dried her hands on a dishtowel, then turned to face him. “I like your hair the way it is, but you mentioned it was getting too long. Up to you.”
“Maybe just trim it up a little?” If he didn’t let her cut it, eventually he’d have hair down to his waist. He wondered if she’d have a problem with him showing up once a month for a haircut once this was over and she returned home.
“Sure. I saw scissors somewhere the other day. Go get a towel and your comb while I find them.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Shirt off,” she said when he returned.
He grinned. “I like it when you’re bossy.” If she’d told him to take off his shirt a few days ago, he would have walked out of the room. It was a minor miracle that he didn’t hesitate to do as she asked.
Turned out getting a haircut was torture. Every time her breasts brushed across his shoulders or one of his arms, he wanted to pull her onto his lap and make love to her again. To keep from doing just that, he mentally recited the names of all the horses at the ranch.
She stepped in front of him. “You’re muttering things.”
“No, I’m not.” Was he?
“Yes, you are. I clearly heard Lego. Is getting a haircut upsetting to you? We don’t have to finish.”
“No, let’s get this done.”
“Okay.” She moved behind him and combed her fingers through his hair. “So, who or what is Lego?”
Apparently, he had muttered his horse’s name out loud, but Lego he could talk about. “My rescue mustang.”
“Oh, cool. Why’d you name him that?”
“I didn’t, Cheyenne’s little girl did. Wasn’t what I planned to name him, but I dare you to say no to your four-year-old niece. They cry when they don’t get their way.”
She leaned around him and smiled. “You’re a softie, Dallas Manning.”
“Only with little girls who cry.”
“Nuh-uh.” She pulled the towel from his shoulders and used it to wipe away pieces of hair. “All done. Go look in the mirror and tell me if you’ll let me come near you with scissors again.”
She followed him to the bathroom, leaning against the doorway as he took a quick look at his reflection. “Well?”
“You can come near me with scissors again.” He loved the sweet smile she gave him. Even though his scars didn’t seem to bother her, he still wasn’t comfortable walking around without a shirt on. He headed for the bedroom to get a shirt.
“Who said you could get on the bed, Bella?” She gave him a quick glance before turning her attention back on the small lump darting around under the covers.
Rachel laughed as she joined Bella on the bed. “What little monster have you got under there, Bella Boo?” She tapped the sheet, and the lump darted for her finger.
Bella looked at Rachel, and Dallas could swear there was a grin on the dog’s face. He leaned back against the wall, his gaze going first to Bella, the dog that had been ready to give up on life not so long ago. He’d understood because he’d been there. Now her coat was shiny, she was gaining weight—her ribs hardly showing anymore—and the once dull chocolate eyes were alert and happy.
Rachel was moving her hand over the bedcover for the kitten to chase. His heart took a weird bounce as she played with Blue while carrying on a conversation with Bella. How could he keep them, all three of them?
He couldn’t. Well, maybe the kitten, but it would break Bella’s heart if he took her baby back to Montana with him. Bella belonged to Jack and would eventually become a service dog for one of their wounded brothers or sisters, so there was no keeping her.
As for Rachel...
There was no way around it. He was going to have to let her go. In the same way he wouldn’t be able to survive living in LA, she’d hate living out in the middle of nowhere on a ranch in Montana. If some asshole wasn’t out to kill her, he’d leave right now and go home before he fell for her. He was almost there already. Since he couldn’t do that, he needed to take a step back. No more falling for a beautiful wildcat.
He was halfway out the door when she said, “Show me what all this paracord bracelet does.” He turned toward her but didn’t step back into the room. The kitten was out from under the covers and curled up under Bella’s chin. Bella was looking at him as if also interested in his answer.
“You can google all the things.” He really needed to go somewhere where she wasn’t for a while, before he begged her for things she couldn’t give him.
“I want you to show me,” she said.
Eff him! He couldn’t refuse her, even though he totally should. She was going to be the biggest regret in his life. Cursing himself, he stepped back into the bedroom and took the bracelet from her. “Are you familiar with these at all?”
“Well, I know they’re made out of parachute cords and can be used for a lot of things.” She took it from him and studied it. “I see a compass, a small blade, and what is that?”
“A whistle. If you’re lost in the woods, it comes in handy. You can also start a fire, catch fish, and make a shelter among other things.” He showed her how to remove the blade. “If you’re tied up, you can free yourself or use it to clean the fish you caught with the paracord.”
“This is so cool, the best present I’ve ever gotten.” She slid the blade back in place.
He laughed. “You’re weird.”
“Put it on me.” She handed it him, then held out her wrist.
After snapping it on her, he traced a finger over the bracelet. “You know this means we’re engaged now.” Yeah, he was waving a white flag of surrender. There was no way he could shut her out while he was anywhere near her, so he was giving in. He’d enjoy being with her until it was time for them to return to their homes. He’d deal with missing her then, because he was going to.
“You’re ridiculous.” She grinned at him, then held up her bracelet and admired it.
“Is that any way to talk to your fiancé?”
“How about I show you my appreciation?”
“If you insist.”
“Oh, I do.” She tackled him and spent the next hour showing him her appreciation.
* * *
Someone sounded like they were in agony. Rachel first thought she was dreaming, but as the voice continued saying the same thing over and over, an edge of determination mixed in with the pain, she blinked open her eyes. It took a few seconds to realize Dallas was saying his name, rank, serial number, and birthdate over and over.
She reached over and turned on the lamp. Bella had taken to sleeping at their feet with her kitten, but now she was on her belly next to Dallas, her worried gaze on him. She glanced at Rachel and whined, as if wanting Rachel to do something.
Dallas was curled in a fetal position with his hands over his head, and it didn’t take a genius to know that he was having a nightmare of his time as a prisoner. In between his words, he flinched and made a tormented sound deep in his throat, and she sensed that he was determined not to cry out. Because of his scarred body, she knew, without him ever telling her what he’d endured, that his treatment had been brutal.
She hated that he was reliving that time in his sleep. Should she wake him? What if he thought she was one of his tormentors and tried to attack her? He would never forgive himself if he accidently hurt her. But she couldn’t bear to let him go on reliving his torture. Even though he was dreaming, the pain was real. She could hear that in his voice.
“Dallas, wake up.” She put her hand on his shoulder and shook it. He continued saying his name, rank, serial number, and birthdate. Bella’s whines grew louder, and she stood and went back to the foot of the bed.
Rachel wasn’t sure what made her do it, but she scooted over and wrapped herself around Dallas’s body and held him. It was as if the dam had broken, and she could feel him. The pain pouring from him was almost unbearable, but she didn’t let go. If he could endure it, so could she. It hurt, though, so badly. How had he survived weeks of this agony?
She’d never tried to send an emotion back to someone, and didn’t know if it was possible, but she had to try. She closed her mind to all but soothing calm and peace, then imagined sending it to him while she quietly talked to him.
“I’ve got you, cowboy. You’re safe with me.” As she softly talked to him, he shuddered and grew quiet.
“Are you awake?” she whispered. He answered with a soft sigh, and she realized he was still asleep but no longer dreaming.
Bella returned with Blue in her mouth and dropped the kitten next to Dallas’s head.
“You sweet, sweet girl.” Rachel was touched and surprised by Bella’s gift to Dallas. Blue made Bella happy, so she believed the kitten would make Dallas happy.
The kitten blinked sleepy eyes, yawned, and then curled up where he was and went back to sleep. Seemingly satisfied that all was well now, Bella lowered her body down next to Blue and Dallas.
Rachel couldn’t help smiling at the pile of bodies surrounding Dallas, wanting to comfort him while he slept, unaware that he was covered in love. Or maybe he was, even if only subconsciously, as his sleep was peaceful now.
It was no wonder after what he’d lived through that he had shut down to the point that she hadn’t been able to feel his emotions. But a person couldn’t stay locked down forever before their demons surfaced and demanded attention, no matter how hard a person tried to pretend they were okay.
She was pretty sure that was what was going on with Dallas and why she was starting to sense his emotions now. Should she tell him what she suspected? That he wasn’t okay? That he couldn’t keep pretending he was hunky-dory when he wasn’t? She didn’t have answers to those questions, so she’d just hold him, be there for him tonight and the rest of the nights they’d be together.
After that... Well, she didn’t know what came after that. But she was pretty sure there would be heartbreak involved. Since she’d never had a broken heart, she wasn’t sure how worried she should be. Was it something that could be cured with enough wine and ice cream like in romance novels? Or was it something she’d never get over?
* * *
“What makes a good therapy horse?” Rachel asked as she rode along a trail next to Dallas. She filled her lungs with fir-scented air. Even though it was spring, mornings in the mountains were...she first thought chilly, but refreshing was a better word. Purple rhododendrons in full bloom dotted the trail, and she remembered how June loved to take springtime car rides on the Parkway. All of it—the invigorating mountain air, the scent of the trees, and the flowering shrubs—reminded her how much she loved the place she thought of as home.
Dallas had woken her early, telling her they were going to check out some horses that were for sale. Honey, the mare she was riding, and Dallas’s gelding, Thunder, seemed pretty docile. She was sure Dallas was used to livelier horses.
“I’ve been reading up on that, and a good age for one is around eight years or older. Definitely a calm temperament. You want horses that don’t tend to spook, although any horse will spook if something scares them. Some breeds are more high-strung than others.”
“What are these?”
“Quarter horses, a good breed for therapy horses. They tend to be average in size and have a good temperament. I’m liking these two for Jack’s equine therapy program.”
“Can we run them?” The trail was wide and flat, and she was a little bored with just plodding along.
“Yeah, I want to see how they do. Race you to that dead tree.” He winked at her, then kicked his heels into Thunder’s flanks.
“Hey, you didn’t say go!”
He laughed, and his laughter was music to her ears.
She spurred Honey. “Come on, Honey. You going to let him win?” The horse nickered, then took off.
As she raced behind Dallas, she decided she liked being behind him where she could admire him. He rode as if he were part of the horse, as if he were born riding one. They raced until they reached the dead tree, and he slowed Thunder to a trot. She hated trotting. It was a bouncy gait, and she could never catch the rhythm of the horse in a trot, so she looked ridiculous as she bounced along.
Dallas, on the other hand, was still doing his one-with-the-horse thing. He halted Thunder and turned the horse toward her. As he watched her bobble in the saddle, his lips twitched.
“Are you laughing at me?” she asked as she stopped Honey in front of him.
“Trying hard not to.”
“Okay, Mr. Born in the Saddle, what am I doing wrong?”
“First, you’re squeezing her sides with your legs. Don’t do that.”
“I feel like I’m going to fall off if I don’t. It’s weird, but I have a good seat on a galloping horse, but let it trot, and I turn into one of those bobblehead dolls.”
“You’re trying to stay in the saddle, and that’s why you’re bouncing around. In a trot, you don’t want to do that. Try this. Lift with the horse, but don’t sit all the way back down. Imagine that the saddle is too hot to sit on, so you can only touch it as you lower. Like barely touch it. Go ahead and try it.”
