Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders #15)(41)

Her lips skated across his cheek with butterfly kisses that caused the left side of his body to tingle. “Show me, with your hands,” she whispered huskily. “Where you want to put your mouth on me.”


Dalton pushed her shoulders back so he could touch her. He followed her jawbone from below her ear to the tip of her chin, then down the long line of her neck to the start of her cleavage. The V-neck sweater, the same earthy tone as her eyes, hugged her curves but also emphasized the flat plane of her belly. His finger traced the edge of the sweater, from collarbone to collarbone, stopping to linger at the midpoint.


Rory’s breath hitched when his hands closed over her tits.


He bent his head and kissed the hollow of her throat. “In my version of playing show me, you’re nekkid.”


“Poor baby. Work with what you’ve got.”


“That I can do.” He slid his hands down. Palming her ribcage. He stroked the section of skin between her hipbones. The fact he was touching her over her clothes didn’t seem to matter; Rory became really squirmy.


Instead of sliding his fingers between her thighs, he placed his hands on her lower back, letting his thumbs follow her spine up to her nape. “I’d spend a lot of time on this side. My lips learning every muscle and curve.” He drew a line from the outside of her wrists to the cups of her shoulders.


Then his palms drifted down to her ass. He squeezed a butt cheek in each hand. “Don’t get me started on how long I’d spend worshiping this ass. Bet these soft, sweet cheeks would love to feel the rasp of razor stubble against them.”


She groaned and let her head fall back in surrender.


“You’ve got a pair of legs that goes on forever, so I’d give them their proper due.” Dalton watched her face as his hands slid up from her knees. Resting the heels of his hands on her inner thighs, his thumbs stroked her *. “But this spot right here? I’d save for last. I’d spread you wide and kiss every inch. Then I’d let my tongue come out and play. Maybe my teeth.” He knew he hit the right spot beneath the fly of her jeans when she gasped. He pressed his thumb in and rubbed side to side. “I’ve all sorts of plans for you, Aurora. But not until you give me the green light.”


“Umm…it’s bright f*cking green right now.”


Dalton laughed. He leaned forward and kissed her as he removed his hands from temptation. “We’ll test that response another time, when my hands aren’t on you, okay?”


“You’re serious.”


“Yep. I want you, I’m dyin’ for you to be honest, but you’re not ready.”


“Ready for what?”


He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. “Ready for me. For how I’ll be when you’re completely mine.”


A strange look came into her eyes and vanished. “Dalton.”


“Aurora.” He kissed her and lightly tapped her ass. “I need to git.”


When she didn’t budge, he rolled to his feet, his hands on her ass, lifting her with him.


Rory shrieked. “What are you doing? I’m too damn heavy for you to cart around like a log, McKay.”


He ignored her protests and carried her to the front door. His lips moved to tease his favorite spot at the base of her throat before he set her down. As Dalton slipped on his jacket, he asked, “Will I see you before Friday night?”


“You’re serious about crashing my girls’ night out?”


“Yep. They can have you for a while. Then you’re mine.”


Rory traced the edge of his jaw. “There’s some caveman showing, McKay.”


He shrugged. “I ignored my natural instinct to drag you into the bedroom by your hair.”


“I probably wouldn’t have resisted much.”


“You’re getting very close to the limit of my control.”


“Sorry.” She smooched his mouth. His dimples. The tip of his chin. “I’m glad you came with me tonight.”


“Me too.”


“Drive safe. I’ll text you or call you tomorrow, okay?”


“Sure.”


Halfway back to Sundance, Dalton saw a pickup parked on the shoulder with the hood up. He automatically pulled in behind it and got out.


The windows on the inside of the pickup were all fogged up. Maybe that’s why the driver hadn’t known Dalton had stopped to help. He rapped on the window.


A girl shrieked and a deeper voiced shushed her.


Not good.


The door opened. No interior light came on. “You okay in there? Havin’ car trouble?”


A lanky dark-haired teenage boy jumped out. “Yes, sir, the battery…” The kid stopped speaking. “Dalton?”


He peered at the kid’s face. Blue eyes, dark hair, rugged, yet boyish looks. No doubt. This kid was the spitting image of his father. “Jesus. Kyler, is that you? All grown up and shit?”


Kyler threw a look over his shoulder and slammed the pickup door. “Yeah, it’s me.”


When his eyes narrowed, he looked so much like Cord that Dalton had to laugh. “Fancy running into you out here. What’re you doin’ at ten on a school night?” He couldn’t believe Ky was old enough to drive.