The moment Brett slid his hands around her waist, Callie’s breath caught. Shock jolted through her as he pulled her flush against him, her breasts crushed against his chest, her pelvis cradling the hard bulge of his crotch.
The sudden contact shocked them both.
His gaze darkened.
A gasp caught on her lips.
“I shouldn’t have pulled away from you,” he murmured, his voice edged with a raw emotion that wrapped around her heart and squeezed tight.
“So why did you?”
“Because I wanted you so much that I got ahead of myself.”
“I don’t understand—” His lips caught the rest of her sentence as his mouth plundered hers in a kiss that was both deep and desperate.
His tongue slid into her mouth to stroke and tease. Strong hands pressed the small of her back, holding her close. She could feel every inch of his body, from chest to hips to thighs, his desire pressing hard and eager into her belly.
He smelled of leather and fresh air and a touch of wildness that teased her nostrils and made her breathe heavier, desperate to draw more of his essence into her lungs.
She wasn’t sure what happened next, she just knew that one minute she was standing in the middle of the attic, her body pressed to his, and the next she was following him down onto the cushioned window seat.
He sat down first. His hand caught her thigh, pulling her down onto his lap until her legs were on either side of his hips and she straddled him.
His lips went to her throat, nibbling and tasting, while his hands slid under her sundress to cup her buttocks and settle her more firmly over the bulge in his jeans.
She gasped and rocked against him, rubbing and stirring while his hands massaged the soft flesh of her bottom.
He slid a hand around, his fingers trailing over the lace triangle of her panties before dipping beneath the edge. One fingertip rasped against her clit and sensation ripped through her. Before she could catch her breath, he slipped a finger into the moist heat between her legs and plunged deep.
A moan burst from her lips as heat slammed over her, pulling her down and sucking the air from her lungs for a long, delicious moment.
“You’re so beautiful, Callie. So fucking perfect.” The deep rumble of his voice slid through her, slipping along her nerves, stirring them as intensely as the hand between her legs. She shimmied, pressing against his probing hand, clutching at his broad shoulders, her fingers fisting in the material of his soft T-shirt.
The heat burned fierce between them as they kissed and rubbed and worked each other into a frenzy. The air grew hotter, charged with the smell of sweaty bodies and the promise of hot, steamy sex.
She clutched at his shirt, pulling at the material, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against her own.
“Wait.” He caught her hand with his free one, stilling her movements. “Slow down, honey.” He took a deep breath and rested his forehead against hers. “We should get out of here. Go downstairs. Find a bed.”
He was right.
In the back of her mind, she knew she should put on the brakes. They weren’t kids in the backseat of some car, worried about making curfew. They were grown adults. This was going too far, too fast.
The thing was, she didn’t want to slow down, to give him time to pull away, to back out, to think.
She didn’t want history to repeat itself.
“Let’s just do it,” she murmured, grabbing at his T-shirt, hauling it over his head. She touched her palms to his chest, feeling the hard muscle dusted with silky hair. “Right here. Right now.”
The moment she said the words, he stiffened. Her heart pounded once, twice, and then he relaxed and pushed deeper into the wet heat of her body. Sensation drenched her, so sweet and consuming. She caught her bottom lip and her head fell back. This is what she needed. What she’d been waiting for.
He worked her for a few more minutes, making her sigh and gasp as she clutched at the hard muscle of his shoulders. He kissed her again, his tongue pushing deep in a kiss that made the room spin.
And then he pulled away.
“What are you doing?” she stammered, her head still reeling, her body trembling with need.
“I need to be up early tomorrow.” His gaze caught and held hers. “And you’re not ready for this.” He lifted her then, setting her on her feet as he pushed to his.
Her dress fell down around her wobbly legs and she prayed that the floor didn’t give out beneath her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t have to prove anything.” He reached for his T-shirt.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But she did.
This moment wasn’t about sating her lust for him. It was about proving to herself that she was worth his lust. She’d never been the prettiest or the thinnest or the sexiest. Boys had never fallen all over themselves for her, not the way they did for her sister Brandy. It wasn’t until Brett Sawyer had stared at her across the top of his calculus book that she’d felt really and truly beautiful.
And when he’d ditched her that night, she’d taken a major blow to her ego. One she’d never fully recovered from.
Because she hadn’t just liked him back then. She’d loved him.
She still did.
The truth registered as she watched him pull on his T-shirt, his biceps rippling as he slid the white cotton over his broad shoulders, down his ripped abdomen.
She loved him and if things went fast and furious now, she didn’t have to think about the all-important fact that he didn’t love her.
Not then and certainly not now.
“I shouldn’t have pulled away that night, but I’m glad I did. You weren’t ready for what was going to happen, any more than you’re ready for it now.” He stopped just a few inches shy of her, so close she could feel the heat rolling off his hard body. “It’s sex, Callie. Just sex.”
* * *
The minute Brett said the words, he wanted to kick his own ass. A crazy reaction because he knew he spoke the truth. This was sex, pure and simple. That’s all it could ever be and so he should just pull her close and get on with it.
He wasn’t going to disappoint her now the way he had back then. He wouldn’t haul ass the other way before they got to the really good stuff.
But he would haul ass. Eventually. He couldn’t stay in Rebel forever and while she knew that, he wanted to be sure she knew it.
He would walk away. It was inevitable and he wanted to make sure that she understood as much. That she accepted it. He wouldn’t take the decision from her by pushing her too fast. He wanted her to know what she was getting into.
To want him regardless.
Otherwise, she would end up hurt. And angry.
And he wouldn’t do that to her.
Not again.
“But I thought…” Her words trailed off and he waited. For her to issue the invitation. To make the next move. Instead, she caught her bottom lip and nodded. “I need to be up early, too.”
Brett gathered what little control he had left to keep from reaching for her, to saying to hell with right and wrong and simply feeling for the next few moments. Instead, he nodded. “We can keep looking tomorrow evening. Same time.”
She nodded and then reached for her purse.
Brett followed her down the attic stairs, watching her as she made her way to the front door.
“See ya,” she murmured, and then she walked out onto the front porch, down the steps.
The old truck rumbled in his ears as he slammed the door shut and headed for the kitchen. He was just reaching for a beer when his cell phone rang.
“Long time, no speak, cuz,” came the voice on the other end of the line when Brett said hello.
“Tyler?”
“The one and only.”
“What do you want?”
“My agent managed to get a sit-down with the Wrangler people. Rumor is that you’re not going to sign with them, so they’re looking to step up their game with yours truly.”
“There is no stepping up with you, McCall. You’re sloppy seconds if anything.”
“Whatever helps you sleep better at night.”
“Did you call just to gloat? Because I’m not in the mood.”
“I just thought you should hear it first before the press gets wind of it.”
“More like you’re trying to psych me out, but it’s not going to work. I’ve already got the contracts in hand. There’s no legal way they can change their mind and sign you instead.” The power rested in Brett’s hands. All he had to do was sign and it was a done deal.
“If they’re calling you,” Brett went on, “it’s strictly because every Lone Ranger needs a Tonto. You’re second place, Tyler.”
“Maybe, but I’m not giving up without a fight. You’re on your way out, Brett. Just make it easy on yourself and call it a day. No one can stay on top forever. Better to go out at the height of your career than to slip up and lose your shit in front of thousands of fans. Besides, you’ve got enough to keep you busy at home. My momma said she talked to Dolly and Pappy’s not doing so good.”
“He’s fine,” Brett snapped. “He just needs a little time.”
“Is that so? ’Cause the last I heard, he had Alzheimer’s. You do know what that is, don’t you?”
“Is there a point to this call?”
“Just wanted to keep in touch and let you know that while you’re on pause, I just won first place in Tulsa. Point wise, that pushes me up the board. We’re almost dead even now. Another rodeo or two, and you’ll be eating my dust.”
“This conversation is done.”
“Bye, cuz,” Tyler’s irritating voice called out a split second before Brett hit the off button.
Brett hauled open the refrigerator and reached for a beer. Tyler was a jackass. A mouthy jackass. While the call didn’t come as a surprise—the man consistently rubbed every success in Brett’s face—the timing did.
What type of cowboy called another cowboy out while he was at home dealing with personal issues?
A cowboy who wanted to win, that’s who. Brett knew the game. He’d mouthed off a time or two himself, boasting and bragging to get in the other guy’s craw. Personal issues aside.
No, it wasn’t the call that bothered Brett so much as what Tyler had said—that Wrangler was starting to doubt Brett’s commitment to them.
Then again, he hadn’t sent in the contracts or so much as e-mailed to say they were on the way. It had been three weeks and he’d yet to do anything.
Hell, he should just sign them and be done with it.
He would. First thing tomorrow.
Right now, he needed to calm down and cool off.
He popped the top on the beer and took a long swig before heading down the hallway toward his room. On the way, he caught the sound of his sister’s voice as she sat by Pappy’s bedside and read from an old book from their childhood.
The Little Engine That Could.
Brett had loved that book so much that he’d begged Pappy to read it to him over and over, and the man had obliged every time. He’d never been too busy or too tired.
He’d given the little engine a voice, one that didn’t sound as soft, as soothing, as different from the familiar grumble that Brett remembered so well.
Everything was so damned different now.
The ranch.
His pappy.
His Callie.
He ditched the thought. She wasn’t his. She never had been and she never would be. Even if they did have sex. Because sex didn’t mean anything. It was one moment in a lifetime of many. Just a blissful escape from all of the problems that weighed them down. Just physical.
If only he could make Callie understand that.
While Brett Sawyer had never been one to shy away from a challenge, he started to wonder if maybe, just maybe he was in over his head this time.
With Callie. With the ranch. With Pappy.
Karen’s voice followed him, prompting him to never give up, to keep going and trying, the words feeding the anxiety that skimmed his nerves and wound him tight.
Taking another swig of his beer, he bypassed his bedroom and headed for the back door.
It was time to get the hell out of Dodge.
If only for a little while.