And of course one of his cousins had to be around when he lost control—and of course that cousin had to be Cam. Then again, Dalton had expected more grief from the deputy. The usual, pull your head out of your ass and quit being a little shit lecture he’d gotten umpteen times.
But Cam had removed him from the situation and that was it.
Dalton hated he wouldn’t have known about the situation if not for Busby’s drunken phone call warning him that Rory was out with another guy.
Come to find out it wasn’t just any guy. But her ex-fiancé.
He stalked to the fridge and grabbed the orange juice, drinking straight from the carton. Whenever he wanted whiskey, or felt he needed whiskey, he thought of how Casper acted under the influence. That immediately cut the craving for booze.
He stared out the dining room window, wishing he had a pile of logs to split and stack. Every muscle in his body straining as he swung the ax. Feeling the physical vibration racing up his arms as the blade connected with the wood. Hearing the satisfying crack as force altered a solid object into pieces. Nothing was more satisfying.
Well, nothing except for raw, down-and-dirty sex.
That’s when three loud raps sounded on his door.
Go the fuck away.
“Dammit, Dalton. I know you’re in there. I’m not leaving so you may as well open the door.”
He didn’t rush over; he prepped himself for the best way to send Rory on her merry way.
“I know you don’t lock your door so you either let me in or I’ll barge in.”
He opened the door.
Rory stared at him for several long seconds before she said, “Let me in.”
“What do you want?”
“To talk.”
“Not in the mood.” He rested his forearm above his head on the doorjamb, essentially blocking her. “Go home, Rory.”
Her gaze moved to his throat. “Is that a bruise?”
“Probably.”
She lifted her hand to touch his face and he flinched. “Not kidding. Go home. You don’t wanna be around me now.”
“Or is it that you don’t wanna be around me?” she countered. “Because tough shit. I’m not leaving.”
Dalton leaned forward until they were nose to nose. “Don’t fucking push me.”
“Don’t fucking push me away.”
“Oh, that’s rich, coming from you.”
“Let me in, Dalton.”
“You tough enough to walk through this door?” he taunted. “Because if you do, I’m not letting you leave until we work this out. And we’ll work it out my way.”
Rory turned her face from his; he half-expected she’d take the out he’d offered. But she pressed her warm mouth to the bruised spot on his throat. Then she whispered, “Yes, I’m tough enough. But you already know that, don’t you?”
God. He was so fucking insanely in love with this woman. Curling his left hand around her nape, he consumed her mouth. No sweet start that gradually morphed into passion. Dalton took her mouth like he wanted to take her. Hard and fast, with an almost brutal possession.
She wrapped herself around him, kissing him with hunger.
When the kiss grew even more intense, he jerked her inside and kicked the door shut. He stripped off her coat and herded her toward the bedroom.
What are you doing? Sex is not the solution. She’ll fuck you and walk away and nothing will get resolved.
Dalton released her and stepped back. “No.”
Rory looked confused. “No what?”
“No we’re not doin’ this. You wanted to talk. So talk.”
“But…”
He brushed past her and skirted the breakfast bar. He stopped in the kitchen and grabbed the orange juice carton. “Talk.”
“Dil showed up at my office today on state business.”
“Bullshit. He either lied to you or you’re lyin’ to me, so which is it?”
She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “He said it was personal so no one in the office would know he wanted to talk business with me over dinner.”
Dalton laughed snidely. “So when Dildo had his hands on you and his tongue down your throat—that was part of the plan to fool your boss? Give me a fucking break.”
Rory slammed her hands on the countertop. “Will you let me explain? Or do you have it all worked out?”
“Just like you had it all worked out when you stormed in here and laid out your theories as facts that I used you and lied to you? Not only about the application for the elk farm permit but about my real reasons for starting a goddamned relationship with you?”
That shut her down for a second. But she rallied back with, “Fine, I was an idiot, all right? Is that what you wanna hear?”
“I wanna hear why the fuck you spent all this time talkin’ to your ex-fiancé and he knew nothin’ about me. Or us. Because I’m nothin’ to you, is that it?”
“No. That’s not true, Dalton and you know it.”
“That’s the thing Rory, I don’t know it.”
She stared at him with guilt, shock and embarrassment.
Dalton hated he was still on such shaky ground with her. Would she ever believe he’d changed? What else could he do to convince her?
Rory blurted, “After our business discussion ended, he started saying all this ridiculous stuff about our broken engagement, regretting that he let me walk away without a fight. He said he wanted to try and win me back.”
Dalton couldn’t stop the snarl that accompanied, “The hell that’s ever happening.”
“By that time, I wanted to leave but I told him we’d listen to the band. He asked me to dance and then he kissed me.” Her gaze scrutinized his face. “You were there. You know I wasn’t kissing him back.”
“Alls I know is that I saw his hands on you and I wanted to rip them clean off his body.”
“You nearly succeeded.”
“Apparently not, because that motherfucker got in his licks.” Dalton took a long drink of juice.
“I know something else is eating at you. So just say it.”
“I also noticed that he and I…” He paused and watched her eyes. Even after all his attempts at showing her that he was around for the long haul, she still acted so wary. “We look alike.” He started toward her and she immediately retreated. “He’s tall. He’s got dark hair. Probably has blue eyes. And he’s totally fucking in love with you. Willing to fight for you. Remind you of someone else you might know?”
“This isn’t—”
“Answer. Me.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say. Just stop. Please.”
No way. He’d come this far. “So is it a coincidence that I look like the man you almost married? Be hard to tell us apart in a dark bar, wouldn’t it?”
“No.”
“What about in a dark room, Rory? When you were with me could you pretend I was—”
“Stop it. I haven’t been with you because you reminded me of Dillon.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure, all right? I was with him because at first, on the surface, he reminded me of you. But there’s no comparison, Dalton. None. You’re ten times the man he is.”
A few beats of stunned silence passed as he waited for her to elaborate or to confess she felt something more for him than she ever had for Dildo. But her mouth remained stubbornly closed.
So Dalton kissed her.
Passion, desire, need exploded—a melee of hungry mouths, frantic hands, avid bodies, harsh breathing and harsher kisses.
Dalton wanted to pin her down and fuck the memory of every other man out of her brain and out her body. Imprint himself on her, in her so she’d feel him as part of her even when he wasn’t around. Mark her with his mouth, his teeth, his goddamn hands so she’d see those marks and remember only him.
Rory dug her nails into the back of his neck. Then her hands moved down his chest, over his ribcage, across his belly, stopping at the waistband of his jeans. She nuzzled him, scattering kisses, nips and tiny licks on the cords straining in his neck. “Let me show you. Any way you want. Tell me what you want.”
“This.” Dalton pushed on her shoulders and she dropped to her knees. Her hands unbuckling his belt, unzipping his fly and opening his jeans. Then she yanked his boxers and jeans down, freeing his cock.
Her mouth, her goddamned mouth, so hot and wet and perfect; she destroyed him every time she sucked his cock like she was starving for it.
Well she was gonna get it all and then some tonight.
Rory worked him fast. Driving him to the point where his balls tightened, where he was more animal than man, teetering in that moment when he was so fucking close to coming he could taste it.
He yanked harder on her hair. He squeezed his fingers against the side of her face, digging his thumb deeper into her neck, holding her in place as he fucked her mouth exactly as hard and deep as he wanted.
Almost, almost…he glanced down at her face and saw his hand fisting her hair so strongly it pulled her scalp. Saw the red mark on her cheek from his palm. Then he saw how she squeezed her eyes—in pain?—every time his dick hit the back of her throat.
You’re hurting her. You’re punishing her with sex.
Is that how you treat the woman you love—as a vessel to pour your anger and frustration into?
No. Goddammit no.
Horrified, Dalton abruptly pulled her off his cock and held her head in his hands. “Stop.”
“What’s wrong?”
“This.”
“Dalton—”
“Not like this. Never like this.” He shaped her beautiful face with his fingers. “I never want to touch you when I’m angry, Aurora. Never.”
She looked confused. “I don’t understand you.”
“I don’t understand myself sometimes. But this…isn’t right.” Dalton helped her to her feet and yanked up his clothing.