DOTTY (The Naughty Ones Book 3) Read online

  All that fire. I know just what to do with it.

  “Fine. What should I pack, Summers? I think it’s just about time that I took something I want without guilting myself to death about the rest of the world.”

  My grin is dark and predatory and I see her catch her breath before I can mask the satisfied lust.

  “Just bring yourself, baby. I’ll take care of everything else.”

  ***

  Dot

  The absolute lushness of the surrounding scenery is breathtaking as Paul speeds along the road, music blaring in the pickup that was waiting for us when we landed at the private airstrip an hour ago.

  The heat is dry and oppressive and so welcome after the dreary weather back home, that I can’t find a reason to complain even as my ass melts into the seat despite the air conditioning running full blast.

  After my little rebellion Paul smiled, pecked my lips, damn his teasing hide, and left me alone to pack and rest.

  Like I could sleep after he left and the magnitude of my decision hit me. I am for all intents and purposes running away for three weeks of sex and relaxation with the cousin of my fiancé.

  The knowledge has me just tingling with delight because, frankly, I don’t even freaking care what anyone else thinks. For once in my life I am doing something without thinking about anyone else. Not my family, not my girls—who, by the way, screamed my ear off on the phone.

  It’s all just for me. And if I’m charitable, maybe Paul too, though I highly doubt the man will let an opportunity for his own pleasure pass us by.

  Percy, when she ran into the apartment around two that morning, almost killed me when she tackled me where I was trying to go to sleep. I even got a slight smile and head nod from Indie who plunked herself down beside me and barked, “No hugging” when I went in for a cuddle.

  We spent a good two hours talking and plotting. Well mostly they were plotting and giving me so much sex advice I think my hair color bled into my skin.

  The things those two know about intercourse and oral sex will make my shaved snatch catch fire.

  “You okay, baby doll?” Paul asks suddenly, pulling me out of my reverie.

  I turn to glance at him and take in his baby-blue T-shirt, worn jeans, and muscular arms. He’s wearing Ray-Ban sunglasses and a cowboy hat that casts his face in shadow so it’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, but I’m so gooey and needy after thinking about the things I’ve been dreaming about that I can’t find a scrap of unease within me.

  “All of my cracks are pooling in the worst way, grossness, and I think my skin’s about to melt off but I feel great. Just look at this place.”

  He chuckles and I see him take a deep breath, almost as if he’s shedding a heavy load as he continues on before taking a left turn onto a dirt road that seems well maintained, the ruts and holes filled in with gravel.

  “It’s beautiful here. I always feel like the world stops turning and I can just be me whenever I come out here.”

  I know what he means when a few minutes later we come to a stop outside a huge ranch house made of weathered wood, and a porch that looks like it was made just for me and the knitting circle I’ve always wanted to establish.

  I can just see myself sitting there in the early mornings eating breakfast, or in the late afternoons peeling potatoes or something with the silence and peace surrounding me.

  The vision is so real I feel a pang of longing for it because I know that three weeks is all I have before I have to trudge back home where I’m a mad woman run ragged by all that life throws at me.

  And it’s then that I’ll have to face the music and finally choose between my dreams and what my family expects of me.

  “God, it’s beautiful.”

  “Yup. It’s a slice of heaven,” he agrees, jumping out of the truck cab to come around and open my door.

  I let him hand me out and even accept his refusal to help with the luggage as I turn in a circle and take it all in.

  In the distance I see a large structure that looks to be a barn, and to its left, a couple of yards closer to the house, is another very big building.

  There’s also a corral, I think it’s called, and I see horses standing around in the distance, grazing on the green grass.

  The smell of the place is fresh and natural with the slightest scent of manure but I like it, I acknowledge, as the peace settles in and just invades my very being.

  “Come on, baby doll. Let’s go on in and get settled and have some iced tea before I give you the tour. You’re gonna love the creek and the pastures if you seem so taken with this.”

  The house, when he opens the door and stands back for me to proceed him, is breathtaking. It’s got an open floor plan with a huge sitting room TV area to the left, a large dining table after that, and a kitchen that I see beyond, though that is separated by a wall that holds one of those window type things for easy service.

  To my left are three doors that must be an office and I don’t know what else.

  The upstairs is just as easy and comfortable looking and I almost swallow my tongue when he directs me into a large room that I know must be the master suite what with the size, the huge bed, and a private bath.

  The room is light where it faces the front yard and all the afternoon sunshine, and I fall in love with the light earth tones and startlingly bright light blues on sight.

  “Oh but I can’t take this room, Paul. It’s the master and you should have it,” I stammer, turning to him, suddenly dry mouthed and shy when my eyes land on the king-sized bed with its ocean of space and soft-looking pillows.

  “It is and you will. We’re sharing, so don’t worry your pretty little head none about putting me out.” He laughs, dumping the cases on the bed and coming up behind me.

  His hands settle over my middle and I gasp when he pulls me back, my behind coming into contact with the hard evidence of his arousal.

  “Paul.”

  My voice is a breathy whisper that turns into a mewl when he pushes a hand over my stomach and just barely skims the top of my mound over the pink gypsy skirt I’m wearing.

  “Dot. Don’t fight this. We’re both free and clear and we deserve to have what we want without thinking of what everyone else wants. I want you, Dot, so much that I jerk off with images of you and all that glorious red hair spread across my pillows, my chest, any fucking where you’ll touch me with it. It’s gotten to the point where I get hard just trying to remember the way you smell,” he says into my ear, his fingertips skimming just above my clit where I’m already wet and throbbing for him.

  “I’m not good at any of this. I’ve had sex a few times but it wasn’t all that explosive, and I’m not exactly a sex siren or anything,” I whisper, shamed at my confession.

  I’ve always wanted to be easy and confident with my body like Indie and Percy. Oh, not in the way that you think if it sounds like I’m likening my friends to whores. I’m not. It’s just that I’ve never had that self-confidence and innate sensuality that they have, so I’ve never been that open to the men who seemed attracted to me.

  Besides, I’ve just always been looking for “the one,” and that kind of leaves flings and no-commitment affairs off the table for me. Till now. Now all I want is a chance to have some good sex, some time to get out of my head, and maybe a few weeks of shared attraction and closeness with Paul.

  “You’re beautiful and smart and one of the sexiest women I have ever known, baby. Don’t get cold feet on me now.”

  “I’m not. I—”

  My voice chokes off on a strangled gasp when his fingers suddenly delve beneath the waistband of my skirt and panties to the wet heat that’s simmering and bubbling between my legs.

  Those wicked fingers of his graze over my freshly shaven mound, skim my clit and skate down the seam of my sex, stopping at my opening.

  The possessive hold he has on me and the way his larger body just seems to envelop me, tower over me protectively, turns me on in the worst way and I push against
his hand, mewling my delight.

  “All this wet heat is for me, baby. You feel how soaked and hot you are right now? That’s just the beginning of what I can make you feel, Dot. Tell me what you feel. I want to hear the words.”

  Words? How can I form words and speak when he’s sliding his middle finger up and down my lips, spreading the moisture before flicking at my bud, only to tease back down to where I’m empty and clenching for him.

  “Tell me,” he murmurs, nipping at my ear to gain my attention.

  It’s so freaking hot the way he’s playing with me, pushing me closer to the brink with every flick of his finger that I have to swallow and force myself to breathe.

  “Wet. I feel so wet and hot inside. It’s burning me up for you.”

  “That’s good, baby. That’s exactly how I want you to feel. What else?”

  I’m wanton, pushing against his hand as he keeps up the steady tease, my body begging for penetration even as the words spill forth.

  “I need you inside me so badly it hurts deep inside where your finger keeps dipping into me.”

  “What do you want, Dot?”

  “You. Just you making me feel good.”

  It’s not the dirty talk he wants, I know that, but he seems satisfied with my answer and rewards me by pushing his finger deep and setting a rhythm that has me up on my toes and curling closer to his hand.

  The other is still locked around me, holding me against him. I feel every stoke of his finger inside me and the way his thumb slips up to my clit to tease it and flick me so slowly I can’t hold in my pleas.

  “Oh, please. Faster.”

  His growl of approval is as much a turn-on as his hands, and I thoroughly enjoy the animalistic sound even as he speeds up and starts pushing me closer to the edge.

  When I come minutes later I have to grab at his arm to keep myself up as my sex spasms and clenches around his finger while I convulse and scream my pleasure.

  I now know why Indie said that good sex is worth all the effort.

  When I’m finally able to get my legs back under me and I’m just plain wrung out, Paul removes his hand and turns me into his chest for a hug and little kisses all over my face.

  I want to kiss him so badly it hurts when he looks at me through lazy eyes and pushes me away a step.

  “Goddamn you’re sexy when you come. And you smell fucking delicious,” he grunts, bringing his hand up to his nose before inhaling and licking at his finger. “You and me, Dot, we’re going to set those sheets on fire with the blaze burning between us.”

  It’s hot and embarrassing at the same time watching him savor my taste and groan that I smell like effing lavender, but it also makes me feel strangely at ease with what’s going to happen between us.

  For some reason I just know that giving myself to Paul will be the best decision I’ve ever made. He’ll take care of me and adore every inch of me, flaws and all, and I need that.

  I need the confidence that will come from him worshipping me, even my small boobs and the stretch marks on my hips from the year I hit my growth spurt and my body couldn’t keep up.

  “Paul.”

  I want to return the favor now as he finally manages to calm and looks down at me with a sweet smile. I want to go to my knees and tongue him to orgasm and taste him just as he’s tasted me.

  “Hush, baby. There’s time yet for us to get there. For now I’m feeding and watering you, and showing you my pride and joy. Welcome to Hawk Ranch. Now come on, you sex fiend, let’s get going.”

  As I take the hand he’s holding out to me, his grin wicked, I find myself smiling back and thanking God I took this gamble. It’s like rolling the dice and getting double sixes. I just hope I’ve bet on the right horse.

  Chapter Six

  Oh Toto, We’re Back in Kansas.

  Dot

  The ranch is so much more than I imagined it would be. At this time of year it’s not even close to cold, but Paul told me that the winters here can be brutal and that he’s spent his fair share of calving seasons so cold, he almost lost his nuts once winter.

  Jules, the foreman, a man of about forty-five with greying brown hair and an easy smile, has been with us through most of the tour, bringing Paul up to date on everything that’s been happening.

  That surprised me, and what almost had me apologizing for my misconceptions is that Paul seems to be hands on and even gives a few suggestions that lead me to believe that this isn’t just a hobby for him but a real passion that he loves.

  Not many people can look at this life and see potential, and I would have thought a tycoon from the city would look at the place and sneer at how rustic it all is.

  Not Paul, though. I may not know him all that well, but I’ve been watching his every move since he picked me up at the apartment, and I have to say that I have never seen him this happy or relaxed. It’s as if he’s come home and the peace and joy has settled into his very bones.

  “See there?”

  I look over to where he’s pointing and catch a glimpse of a thin ribbon of water meandering near some trees.

  “Wow. The creek?”

  “Yup. That was the first selling point when I went looking for land. The place has its own water and also has some very nice underground sources that we tap into when rain is scarce. I also just fell in love with it when I came down here. Sitting under the trees and hearing the water is magical.”

  He sounds so happy that all I can do is smile as he spurs the horses on and we amble down to the trees, dismounting in the shade. He’s right, it is magical, I think, as my tired legs and ass dump me beneath the tree closest to the water. I enjoy the tinkle of it echoing around us.

  Paul drops down beside me too and just sits with his eyes closed, lost in the moment.

  “The first year I owned the land I would come here every sunset after chores and just take it all in. It was as if my life in the city didn’t exist and I loved it.”

  “How did this happen? I mean, no offense, but you seem like the tycoon city slicker to me, yet seeing you here I can’t believe that you could ever bear to leave this place and go back to the hustle and bustle of the city. Hell, you may have to pry me loose with a crowbar in three weeks.”

  He chuckles and angles his head to look at me from beneath the rim of his hat.

  “It started when Mama and Grammy would send me to my uncle Jim’s every summer. They said I needed the break and that some hard work and freedom would settle me. My grandfather was an asshole most of the time, and I’d be so busy with school and learning the business that coming to Jim’s was truly like a vacation, even when I had to rise at the ass crack of dawn and shovel stalls and acres of shit.”

  Hmm, another misconception, I think, as he grins and closes his eyes again.

  “What? You thought I was the classic rich asshole who only knows about money? Business and fucking? Sorry to disappoint, baby, but this man’s a rancher at heart. I fell in love with it all. The land, the animals, the constant back-breaking labor. It was like a whole new world where all I had to do to be a worthy man was be a man and work for what I wanted. I hate the city and all the business shit. I despise the suits and the politics of family versus money. Here, and at Jim’s place too, I feel like I’m free. I work hard, yeah, but at the end of the day all I have to worry about is what chore needs doing tomorrow.”

  “Not spreadsheets and social obligations and everyone else looking to you to make the next big deal.”

  I love the catering business, but I also, like Paul, just want to look at an honest day’s work and feel like I accomplished something that will make a difference.

  City life is tiring and go, go, go. Work, make money, never stop, because if you do there’s someone else willing to do the job.

  “Exactly.”

  “Can I tell you a secret?”

  “Anytime, baby.”

  Deep breath in.

  “I don’t like the city, either. When I was younger I planned to move to the country and jus
t do the things I wanted to do. Cook, knit, sew. I thought I would find someone who wanted the same things and then I could raise a family and be happy.”

  “But?”

  “But I never found anyone I could envision this life with. It’s all about convenience to everyone and I hate that. What’s so wrong with wanting to have a life where the career boils down to being a good mother and wife? Everyone thinks in this day and age you have to be successful and work to be independent, but I don’t see that. To me, at the end of the day if you know you’ve done a good job, even just being a housewife, that’s all that matters.”

  “So you like this place? Like the thought of being a momma here and having a passel of kids while you keep house?”

  I can see he’s surprised and I don’t blame him.

  “Yes. I stay with my friends and family because I don’t want to hurt them by just leaving them high and dry, but the rest?” I shrug and look down at the cool water with a groan as the heat hits me.

  “What about the business?”

  “That’s Callie and the girls at work. They always wanted to start it and I just sort of went along with it because that was what they expected. Me? A don’t need a career to be happy. I do it because they needed me to take charge, but honestly, I have no passion for cooking for snobs who think caviar is a must and sushi is just to die for. Yuck.”

  “You know that if you do what your parents want you to that you’ll never leave the city right? Alex wouldn’t make it a second here with the lack of clubs and parties.”

  The image of that twerp in jeans while he shovels manure and tends to cattle makes me giggle and Paul laughs too, getting my humor.

  “I am so not marrying Mr. Armani.”

  “No?”

  “Definitely not. Look at me, Paul.” I giggle, waving a hand down to my plain boho look and cheap jewelry.

  “I am, baby,” he rasps, making me turn my eyes to his and gasp.

  His face is hard with lust and I see him swallow when my nipples peak against the fabric of my sheer bra and light camisole.