Chapter Two

Nothing had changed.

Lori still heated Dean’s blood like no other woman had. Mesmerized, he had been unable to break the link between them when she began to sing. Her voice was silky, sexy. Like always, she sung from the heart and tore at his, the words describing how he had felt these past four years.

Damn. You’re a fool, Dean Wilcox, he thought when the song ended and his feet refused to carry him out of the bar.

Even after all she’d done, he couldn’t resist the urge to take her in his arms, feel her body pressed to his. He wanted to kiss her so badly he was seeing red.

A soft growl rumbled in his chest as the lead singer stroked her with his lusty gaze, but then she opened her mouth and he was lost again.

Lord. The woman had a way of turning him every which way but loose. If it wasn’t her voice wrapping him in ecstasy, it was her body. He closed his eyes and let her words caress him. The last time he had made love to her she had cried, soft tears rolling down her cheeks, as she’d whispered, “I love you.”

His gaze rose to watch the sway of her body in rhythm with the music. He wanted her naked, moving against him like that. Even the remaining ache in his balls didn’t stop his wayward thoughts. Thank God the cue ball had struck the area where his groin and thigh met, or he’d be one hurting puppy. The spaghetti straps of her shirt fell over each shoulder and he had the uncontrollable urge to shove the material farther, down to her waist to bare her breasts. Taut nipples pressed against the cotton called to him, begging him to stroke them with his tongue.

But that was never going to happen. There was too much history between them.

After high school, scholarships had paved Lori’s way to San Diego to attend college. She was getting out of this little town. But not him. Dean worked for his ailing father on their cattle ranch.

The thought of being separated from Lori had torn Dean apart. But he knew his father was dying. His mother needed him. There had been no way he could leave and go with Lori. Nor did he want to squash her dreams of an education. So he put his plan to ask her to marry him on hold. He loved her enough to wait.

The song ended and she nearly dove off the stage into Rusty’s open arms. Jealousy raised its head and sent fire up Dean’s throat to smolder across his face. Rusty swung her around before her body slid down his and she stepped away. She picked up the drink from the table and took a long, healthy chug. Long Island iced teas were her favorite. If she drank them like that all night, she’d be under the table passed out in no time.

Rusty grabbed her hand and pulled. A giggle bubbled up from her chest, as she barely had time to set the glass down before he pulled her onto the dance floor. Now that wasn’t gonna be easy—watching another man hold her in his arms.

Mitch sidled up beside Dean. “Hurt her, and I’ll kill you.” He leveled Dean with a steely glare, and then quietly walked away.

Message received loud and clear. There was no doubt in Dean’s mind Mitch meant what he said, and Chris and Ty Dayton would be right there to help their brother. They watched over Lori like three grizzly bears.

In fact, it was Mitch who revealed Lori was two months pregnant four years ago. When Dean had confronted her, she grew defensive and informed him that she was unsure whether she would keep the baby.

He’d blown up—it was his child.

They’d fought.

He’d spoken harshly. She left hurt and angry, splashing through the puddles in her little sports car as she sped away.

The memory was so raw, like it happened only yesterday.

He closed his eyes. Pain and regret washed over him.

It had been dark and raining. The streets were slick. Lori’s taillights swung sharply left then right, before fading around the corner. He stood for what seemed like forever, drenched and confused that she had refused his marriage proposal. He turned to go inside when he heard the crash of metal. He jumped into his truck and roared down the road. High-pitched screams of sirens and flashing lights followed not far behind.

But it was too late.

He brought his truck to a screeching halt and ran to the car as a fire truck roared up behind him.

Blood. Everywhere.

In moments, the paramedics were loading Lori into the ambulance.

Later at the hospital, when Mitch told him Lori lost the baby, Dean had lost it. This had been his fault. If he’d only handled the situation differently. If only she had loved him as deeply as he loved her.

When he finally pulled himself together, Lori was gone—without a goodbye, she had left for California.

Four years passed without a call or a letter. This was her first visit back home since that fateful day.

The song ended and Lori headed straight to her drink. She chugged the remaining liquid. It was clear to Dean what her plan was—the woman couldn’t hold her liquor. With a satisfied male grin, Rusty flagged the waitress for another drink.

This little scene had disaster written all over it. And there was no way he would stand idly by and watch her walk out of this bar with Rusty tonight.

As Rusty hauled her onto the dance floor again, Dean intercepted them. “My turn.”

“I don’t think so.” Lori’s face was flushed.

“Don’t argue with me, darlin’.” He and Rusty exchanged a silent look of understanding. Dean pulled her out of Rusty’s arms and into his.

The minute their bodies touched, it felt like Lori had never been gone. She fit perfectly against him. The ends of her hair brushed his hand at the small of her waist.

Her eyes were bright, the liquor starting to take hold. “Don’t think you can boss me around.”

She trembled beneath his touch, as she always did. The woman was so responsive. The slow rhythm of the music took hold of them and they shuffled across the floor.

When he wedged a leg between hers, pressing it to the vee of her thighs, she gasped. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

His cock hardened, lengthening, knowing it was only a heartbeat from where heaven lay.

“Dean?”

He twirled her away from him, pulling her back into his arms to grind his hips to hers when they came together. His hand slipped lower to cup her ass, holding her tightly against his erection.

“Dean, don’t do this.” Her voice was a soft plea.

He couldn’t help himself. Anger and guilt raced through him. He wanted to punish her—punish himself—for the child lost and the time that had separated them.

With a desperate cry, she pulled from his arms and ran for the door.

His eyes briefly closed on a weighted sigh.

God. It was happening all over again.

Then he reacted, pushing through the crowd and following her.

“Dean—”

He heard Mitch call his name before he bolted out the door in pursuit of the woman he still loved.

 

A chilly breeze struck Lori in the face as she stepped outside. It took her breath away. She gulped down a mouthful of air and tried to stop the tears. Arms folded around herself, she realized her coat hung on the back of a chair in the bar. Goose bumps prickled her skin. But there was no way she was going back in there.

The dim lights of the parking lot shrouded everything in shadows. She stumbled toward her Jeep. Her hands shook. She jabbed one into her pocket to retrieve her car keys, fumbling and dropping them after she set off the automatic unlock feature. She scooped them up quickly.

As she opened the door of her 1999 yellow Jeep, someone grabbed her arm and spun her around, slamming the door in the process.

Her heart stopped.

Dean.

Before she could speak, he sealed her mouth with his. The kiss was hungry, lacking tenderness. With little effort, he forced her lips apart and thrust his tongue inside. He plundered her mouth as if starving to taste every inch of her.

She wedged her hands between them and shoved, but his iron grip remained. She tried to fight him—

Then, like always, she dissolved into a puddle in his arms. He tasted bittersweet, of beer and a second chance. And he kissed her with a hunger she matched.

“Lori?” Mitch’s presence broke Dean’s kiss, but his mouth remained a breath away from hers. His breathing was labored. He still pinned her to the car with his firm body. If anything, he moved closer, pressing her tighter to him. Over his shoulder she saw Mitch’s frown, her coat in his hand. The tension in her brother’s jaw said he wasn’t happy—not at all.

“I warned you.” Menace coated Mitch’s three words.

“Back off, Mitch.” Dean’s tone held the same threat. “This is between Lori and me.” As he spoke, his lips moved across hers. Fire raged in his eyes. He wedged his body between her legs.

“Sis?” She heard Mitch’s concern. He threw her coat on the hood of her car. Fists balled, his stance was rigid.

Crap. She crammed her keys into her pocket. No way did she want them to fight. “It’s okay.”

But would it really be?

“Are you sure?” Mitch asked. The vein in his throat ticked.

“Yes. Just give us a minute,” she managed to say.

When Mitch pivoted and strolled toward the bar, Lori realized she was at Dean’s mercy. A mercy he didn’t show. Instead he took her mouth in another scorching kiss.

The cold was forgotten when his warm hands disappeared beneath her shirt and cupped her breasts. As he devoured her with his mouth and tongue, his fingers squeezed her nipples, causing her to gasp. He swallowed her cry and increased the pressure. Rays of sensation headed down south to tighten the already simmering burn in her belly.

She had to touch him.

With a yank, she pulled her hands free from between them and grasped his western shirt. Within seconds, she ripped apart the snaps and taut muscle was beneath her palms.

Their kiss suddenly broke. He stared at her without speaking. She didn’t know whether his expression was of anger or passion. But an uncontrollable tremor shook him. He jerked his Stetson from his head and put it on the roof of the car.

“Naked,” he choked. “Now.”

He didn’t wait for her response. Instead he smoothed his hands up her waist and lifted her shirt over her head. He stared at her breasts as he threw the garment to the side. Swirls of air played at her bare nipples, drawing them into painful nubs. Before she could respond, he knelt and tugged at one boot and then the other, leaving her knee-high nylons on. She braced her hands on his shoulders to keep her from falling.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

She stood half-naked in the parking lot of the Hillside Bar. Rational thought told her she should stop Dean, but if she did, the moment could be lost forever. Selfishly, she wanted this night with Dean, needed to feel him buried deep inside her one more time. The entire bar could catch them this second and it didn’t matter to her.

When he stood, their mouths clashed together. Again, he pressed her firmly against the car. She ignored the chill from the window against her back. His body covered hers like a second skin. He released a cry that wrapped around her heart. There was sadness to his quick, frantic movements. He slanted his head to take her one way and then another, acting as if he couldn’t get close enough. His tongue swept her mouth, dueling with her tongue and stealing her breath.

Groans and moans filled her ears.

His? Hers?

With fumbling fingers he worked at unclasping her belt buckle. All the while, he continued to ravish her with his kiss. The hissing of her zipper falling sent a shiver up her back. The parking lot was gravelly beneath her nylon-covered feet. When her jeans dropped to her knees, her bare ass struck the cold car behind her, adding to the rage of sensations she was experiencing.

Then the kiss ended abruptly.

Dean pulled away from her.

“Lori.” Shadows of indecision warred in the depths of his gaze.

No. Please don’t stop. The thought was a cry in her mind.

A heartbeat ticked. He knelt again and pulled her panties down with her jeans. She raised one foot and then the other, stepping out of her clothing.

Trembling, she looked down at him. He stared at the small patch of hair covering her pussy, causing another rush of desire to anoint her thighs. Strong hands smoothed up her legs, over her hips, and rested at the curves of her waist.

Their eyes locked and held. His were so intense she could feel their heat, their desire.

With unsteady hands, he unfastened his belt and zipper, pushing down his briefs in the process. His cock sprung from its confines, arching toward his bellybutton. Pre-come graced the small slit at the crown.

“Dean.” Her voice quivered. She licked her lips.

A deep rumble rose from his chest. Face shadowed by the dim lights, he looked feral, wild. He cupped her ass and raised her, parting her thighs with his body. There was no tender foreplay to their joining, just one violent thrust and he buried himself deep inside her. Then he stilled, holding himself tight against her cradle.

“Fuck.” He forced the strained word through clenched teeth.

Her back arched. She cried out at the fullness—the sense of finally coming home.