Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders #15)(60)

He didn’t respond right away. “Rory, I don’t want you talkin’ about our sex life to your friends.”


She rolled away from him and pulled the sheet to her chest. “Excuse me. I thought I was doing you a favor by letting it slip that Dalton McKay is still a legendary cocksman.”


“That’s not who I am or ever wanna be again. I only give a damn about bein’ a legendary cocksman in your eyes and in our bed. What happens between us is—”


“Special?” she said a little snottily.


“Yes. It is. It’s intimacy on a level I’ve never had and I don’t think you have either. So I don’t want to share what’s special between us with anyone else.”


Rather than agreeing—Rory turned combative. “Maybe I didn’t want you sharing the snatch-and-run job you did with my virginity with anyone else either, but that didn’t seem to stop you.”


“And…we’re back to this. Fuckin’ awesome.” Dalton scooted to the edge of the bed. He yanked on his flannel pajama bottoms and a hoodie. Then he left the room without another word.


Way to go.


The thing that sucked? She knew tossing that in his face wasn’t the real problem. The real problem was after totaling up the number of sexcapades for the last week, she realized she had been at Dalton’s beck and call—and she’d sworn she wouldn’t be. She had several job listings she should’ve applied for that she’d blown off to blow him. Her mom had returned from her latest trip and had asked several times when they could get together, but Dalton had Rory on her back too many times to even call her mother back.



Face it. Your inability to say no is not Dalton’s problem; it’s yours. And the only person who can fix that is you.


Lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling she understood his comment about their intimacy being special wasn’t a bullshit line. Things were different this time around, maybe not in a good way because it seemed to be all-consuming for both of them.


That scared her. Mostly because it wasn’t scaring him.


But that didn’t alter the fact she needed to apologize. She hated that by reverting to the old Rory who lashed out, she’d forced him to walk away. They’d both grown past that behavior and this time it was up to her to prove it.


She slipped on his robe and wandered into the living room.


No TV. No music. Dalton wasn’t staring aimlessly out the window like he sometimes did. He hadn’t broken out the whiskey. In fact, she didn’t see him at all.


Had he left like he’d done so many times before?


Then she heard scrape scrape scrape. She peered over the edge of the kitchen counter. Dalton was on his hands and knees scraping something from the floor. She stared at him a while without speaking because she was enjoying the view.


Get your eyes off his ass.


She cleared her throat. “Dalton?”


“What?”


“It was a childish thing to do, throwing our past history in your face. I don’t even know if you did tell locker room stories back then. But it doesn’t matter now.” She took a breath. “So from here on out I won’t brag about how awesome you are in bed to anyone. I’ll just walk around with a smug smile on my face all the time because I get to experience that awesomeness firsthand. You can call me the Mona Rory. No one will know what my secret smile means.”


He sighed. Then he stood and turned toward her. “I appreciate the apology and I’m sorry if it seems like I overreacted. What’s between us is special. I don’t ever want to lose sight of that or take it for granted, Rory.”


When Dalton didn’t come forward and hug her after that sweet confession, she said, “That’s it?”


“What’s it?”


“We’re not gonna kiss and make up or anything?”


A dangerous look flared in his eyes. “Sure we can. As long as I get to pick where to kiss you.”


Her sex pulsed twice—the equivalent of yelling pick me, pick me!


Her cunt was such an attention whore sometimes.


She started to retreat. “I thought you agreed to take a break from bom chicka wah wah.”


“I did. But since your poor * is sore and that is my fault, I oughta kiss it all better.” He stalked her. “Besides didn’t you call yourself the Moanin’ Rory? I’ll make that happen and then some.”


“The Mona Rory. A joke. From the Mona Lisa. Get it?”


“Yep. But you’re gonna get it too.”


“Dalton—”


“Aurora. Come here.” His tone went from sexy and playful to sexy and demanding.


Shit. She never ever ever thought she’d be the woman who’d go all weak-kneed when a guy ordered her around. She never ever ever thought she’d be more focused on the inflections in his voice than the words.


“You should see your eyes. They’re as dark as emeralds.”


“That definitive tone of yours is a major f*cking turn-on.”


“I mean every word I say to you.” Then Dalton was on his knees, urging her to lean against the counter, untying her robe, spreading her thighs apart.