Must Be Doin' Somethin' Right [The Chisholms of Texas 3] (Siren Publishing Classic) (9 page)

“You already know why I wanted you there, baby. Otherwise you wouldn’t be asking me. I already told your fine ass that I’m in love with you. What else do you want to hear?”

“Shit. I thought you were filled with, I don’t know, postcoital glow, when you said that. It’s too soon, Dillon. You can’t really know that you’re in love with me. Do you always fall in love this fast?”

“I have never told a woman who wasn’t related to me that I loved her, Abigail Barnes. Until you,” he said sincerely. When she didn’t respond, he said with a bad-boy smile, “By the way, we both know I didn’t have to tell you I loved you in order to fuck you. You would have let me fuck you anyway. You can’t resist my suave charm.”

“You’re so full of shit, Dillon Chisholm,” she responded with a little smile.

“Yeah, but you love me anyway, don’t you?” His eyes challenged her to tell the truth.

“Shit. This is crazy. We just started going out. We barely know each other,” she tried to hedge.

“We’ve been getting to know each other for two years, baby. That’s longer than my father and my brothers took to marry their wives. The way I figure it, I’m way behind the curve here. I haven’t even got you to move in with me yet,” he said, only half joking.

“You can’t be serious. There’s no way we’re ready to live together. You’re much too bossy,” she said, trying to hide her smile. She knew Dillon would want to move quickly in their relationship now that they were sleeping together but this was still a little too quick for her. She wasn’t opposed to the concept of living with Dillon, but he needed to demonstrate some patience before she agreed to it. They worked together during the day and were already spending at least five nights a week together as it was. Still, she was impressed that Dillon hadn’t even tried to influence her choice of friends, what she wore, or what she did in her free time. His dominant personality seemed geared more toward her safety, like when she had been giving Diablo his vaccinations, and her sexual pleasure rather than a need to oversee every little detail of her life.

“I’m not bossy, baby. I’m decisive.” He was sporting that cocky grin that she found irresistible. “And you love me anyway,” he said as he nudged her backward toward his bedroom.

“What are you doing, Dillon? If I stay here tonight, you’re going to have to drive me home tomorrow after work. I only brought one change of clothes,” she warned him as she pretended to resist his efforts to get her into his bedroom.

“I have a washer and dryer, we can do laundry while I have you naked and writhing beneath me,” he said seductively as he started to undress her.

“I’m not wearing the same clothes over and over again. People will notice. Just promise me you’ll take me home tomorrow after work or I’m not going to stay the night,” she threatened as she stepped out of her jeans.

“Okay, okay. I promise I’ll take you home tomorrow after work,” he said with a pout as he unhooked her bra and threw it to the side.

“Good. See? That wasn’t so hard. Remember this the next time we’re having a discussion like this,” she advised him as he pulled her panties over her hips and down her thighs.

“Move in with me and we won’t have to have this discussion again,” he promised, and he took her lips with a kiss that made her forget what they had been arguing about in the first place. Nudging her so that she fell back against the bed, he tore off his own clothes as she shimmied her way to the center of the bed.

Abby was totally ready for him. Even now, her pussy was weeping copious amounts of juice onto her thighs. She’d never been more on fire for him than she was this minute, in this place and time. She watched as he stalked over to the end of the bed and reached for her ankles, pulling her down the bed so that her feet and calves hung over the edge of the mattress. His engorged shaft was tapping his six-pack abs. It was a beautiful thing.

He brought his hands to her thighs, pushing them far apart. Bending over her, he placed a kiss on each breast, following his lips with the palms of his hands as he kissed down over the slight curve of her stomach and down to the swollen mound of her pussy. His hands spread her lower lips apart as he moved in with his tongue to lave and stroke her folds. Her whole body shivered on a wave of pleasure so intense she didn’t know how she was going to feel when he finally brought her to orgasm.

Holding her pussy lips open with his hands, he concentrated on the wet, hot folds guarding her entrance, paying attention to her clit on nearly every pass. Her orgasm was building within her body as he continued his onslaught. Finally, his mouth delved deep into her body, entering her as far as his tongue would go, causing her to cry out in ecstasy as she arched her body into his touch. He continued to lick her as the after-sensations from her orgasm continued to spark in her. When he had wrung every last bit of response from her body, he drew her knees back together and gently flipped her body so that she was lying on her stomach.

“Get on your knees, there at the edge of the bed. Ass up, head down. Spread your legs as far as you can.” She could tell this was going to be a quick fuck. Dillon was in full Dom mode. She complied with his orders and reveled in the feeling of giving him her submission. She felt him come up behind her as hands caressed the cheeks of her ass for several moments.

“Spread these legs farther apart, Abby,” he ordered as he pushed them gently apart with his hands. “There. Perfect.”

She felt his hands dig in at her hips and, at the same time, she felt his thick, hard cock thrust into her ready pussy. He thrust in and out, pulling groan after groan from her throat. The head of his immense cock brushed her womb with every thrust in and his wide girth stroked her sweet spot on his way out. His thrusts became faster, harder. If not for his hard hands on her hips, she wouldn’t be able to stay in place on the bed. She could feel another orgasm tighten in her pussy and wondered if it would have time to unravel before he blew.

One of his hands moved under her stomach and hips to hold her to his thrusting body as he continued his deep digs. The other hand reached around and delved between her legs and into her pussy, honing in on her swollen clit. Abby knew it wouldn’t take much. Just a touch or two and she would be flying high again. He continued to thrust in and out of her body, giving her clit a flick with each inward movement. One thrust, one flick. Another thrust, another flick. A third thrust, another flick, and she was flying as she came apart with a moan of pleasure. He groaned out his completion as well, thrusting shallowly as her pussy clenched around his cock, milking out every bit of his cum. Leaning over her, he rested his hands beside her on the bed to make sure she didn’t take on his full weight. Their sweat-slicked bodies rested there for several minutes while they caught their breath.

Dillon turned his head and gently dropped a kiss where Abby’s neck and shoulder met, nibbling on her skin. She giggled and heard him groan as he felt that giggle in her pussy, which still held his sated cock. Levering himself back up, he held her hips as he slowly withdrew his cock. He gave her right ass cheek a soft slap and she squeaked in pleasure.

“That was hot, baby. Stay right there. I’ll be back in a second.” She felt him leave and heard water running in the bathroom. Then he was back, drawing a warm washcloth over her still-swollen pussy as he wiped the combination of her juices and his semen from her thighs.

“That was awesome, Dillon. Take me like that anytime you want to. I’m all yours.” Dillon might be a dominant male, but he always made sure she came whenever they made love.

“That’s good to know, baby. Why don’t you crawl up there to the pillows so that I can pull the covers over us. It’s time to cuddle. We’ve got the rest of the afternoon to ourselves.” She did as he asked. Crawling up the bed until her head rested on the pillow, she let her body relax into the soft bed. When he climbed into bed with her, his feet were cold and he tangled them with hers to warm them up. He pulled her over to him so that her head rested on his hard bicep and turned her body into his as his arm settled around her waist as they ensconced themselves in the bedroom for the rest of the afternoon.

Abby felt like she was living in a sexual haze. Nearly every night, they holed up in either her apartment or his house on the Ranch and concentrated only on each other. Dillon was tireless and very inventive both in and out of bed. They’d had sex on nearly every piece of furniture in her apartment and his house, on his kitchen counter, and in the shower. They surfaced only long enough to check for messages and eat to keep up their strength.

Between bouts of hot sex, they talked. They talked about anything and everything. Abby talked about her loneliness growing up and Dillon complained about the reality of having seven brothers and sisters. Abby told Dillon about the day her mother was murdered and Dillon shared with her the deep sense of loss he had when he’d lost his paternal grandmother with whom he had been very close.

Dillon wasn’t a wishy-washy kind of guy. He had an opinion on almost every subject but wasn’t afraid to admit it if he didn’t have enough knowledge on a subject to have an informed opinion. Although she didn’t always agree with him, she usually couldn’t fault the reasoning he used to support his opinions. Some things, like his unfailing support of the Dallas Cowboys rather than a worthy team like the New York Giants, were simply inexplicable.

Dillon was a very deep person and embraced his Native American heritage, often going to powwows in the area when he had a chance. He and his mother were especially close due to his avid interest in this part of his heritage. His mother, like her parents and grandparents, was an enrolled member of the Cherokee tribe. His siblings, while proud of their Native American heritage and enrolled as members in the tribe with varying levels of interest, weren’t as interested in pursuing some of the old teachings as Dillon was.

Researching his heritage was what led to the tattoos that Dillon had on his arms, across his shoulders, and down his back. Sketched by Dillon, the tattoo resembled the body paint a Cherokee brave would wear into battle. They were done all in black and were the sexiest things Abby had ever seen. She couldn’t get enough of looking at, and touching, his tats. She was even considering getting one of her own. She just hadn’t made up her mind what she would like inked yet. Dillon promised her he would take her to the artist that had inked his when she decided what and where. He claimed the guy was the best.

Although they learned a lot about each other during her internship, Abby hadn’t known that Dillon had double majored in college before attending veterinary school at Texas A&M University, like Abby. Abby about fell off the bed when he told her he majored in premed and philosophy. A lot about Dillon became clear when she found out he had studied philosophy.

In turn, Abby told Dillon more about her childhood, both before and after her mother was murdered. She let Dillon get a better feeling for the kind of dominating man her father had been, telling him about the few times her father used physical aggression to back up his domineering personality. He seemed to understand Abby’s reluctance to put up with that now that she was out from underneath her father’s thumb.

Her dad had been a twenty-year veteran of the police force and a take-charge kind of guy. He also liked to drink a little too much. Abby told Dillon her father had been the same when her mother was still alive, so Dillon didn’t think her dad’s behavior was brought about by his wife’s death. Still, it had to affect a guy. He was a cop and his wife was gunned down in the subway in front of a lot of witnesses, but, conveniently, nobody could remember what the guys looked like. The man never gotten the satisfaction of seeing his wife’s killer brought to justice.

The physical abuse had been a one-time-only deal. When she was in college, they got into an argument about a guy she was seeing. Her father didn’t like her flip attitude and slapped her in the face when she lipped off to him. He apologized profusely later and swore it would never happen again, and it didn’t. Still, Abby learned what a truly angry man could do. The slap split her lip and left a bruise on one side of her face. She’d done her best to hide it with makeup, but a few of her friends figured it out anyway.

Friday dawned hot, humid, and sunny. Typical weather for early fall in southern Texas. Abby ate a quick breakfast at her apartment then made coffee in a to-go cup and headed out to the Ranch with fifteen minutes to spare. Dillon had been on call last night and was summoned back to the Ranch about midnight as there was a mare down. He told her he would just stay at his house if he got done before the sun rose and left her with a kiss that took her breath away.

About six months into her internship, Dillon had started making out schedules for both of them so that she could operate independently if he was busy elsewhere on the Ranch. They continued this system when she was hired on as a veterinarian nearly eight weeks ago. So, regardless of whether she saw him this morning, she could get started on her own work as soon as she got to the clinic.

When she arrived at the Ranch, she went immediately to the clinic offices to see if Dillon was there and to find out what happened last night. Dillon was nowhere in sight, so it must have been a late night or early morning. Deciding to get to work, she took her clipboard from its place on the wall over his desk. She had a bunch of vaccinations to give to the horses today, so she finished her coffee and signed on to the computer to check what medicines were needed for the first four patients. Everything having to do with the Ranch was now computerized, which made it very simple to check which vaccinations were needed and when they were due.

Once she had the printouts, she went to the med room to get the medication she would need. She drew up the necessary vaccinations for the first four patients, labeled them, then put them in her med bag and went to the first horse barn where they were boarded. Several of the ranch hands greeted her as she passed by. A couple of them simply smirked at her and walked on by. She’d had trouble with a few of the men during her clinical internship. She didn’t think she’d done anything to upset them, but they didn’t seem to appreciate the fact that the Chisholms had hired a female veterinarian.