Slow Ride Home (The Grady Legacy) (9 page)

BOOK: Slow Ride Home (The Grady Legacy)
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He opened his eyes to watch Allie’s eyes unfocus and drift closed. She’d softened over the years, lost some of the hard edge she’d had, but in his eyes, it made her more sensuous. Unable to resist, he lifted his head and caught one of her breasts in his mouth, licking and teasing the tight bud. She whimpered when he lightly bit with his teeth and tugged. Her rhythm stuttered and her pussy clenched tight around him. He was thrilled to discover she’d lost none of the responsiveness she’d had over the years when he played with her breasts.

He slipped a hand between them, stroking her clit until she rocked harder over his thumb, increasing the pressure. Heat flooded around his cock, her muscles massaging him like a glove. If she kept this up he was going to come too damned fast. He bit his lip, focusing on the pain to keep from letting go and not be distracted by Allie’s panted whimpers.

With his free hand he grasped her hips and pulled her down tighter, rocking into her until every damned bit of him was covered, then he lifted her off and slammed inside her again.

On either side of his head, her arms shook, her body tightened, as the first flutters of orgasm overtook her. The whimpers changed to a moan, his or hers, he wasn’t sure. A flick of his thumb set her body shuddering as she lost herself in her own pleasure. He held her tight until she was plastered against his chest, his cock cushioned by her spasming pussy.

Before the last flutters of her orgasm died, he hooked his legs behind hers and rolled them both until he was on top. Something between them had changed—he’d swear he’d not grown, but they didn’t fit together the way they used to. He adjusted the angle, and she shifted too, and then all of a sudden they clicked.

He didn’t remember taking her hair out of its ponytail—maybe she’d done it without him noticing, but her hair fanned out over the blanket. It was darker than he remembered, straighter too, but he thanked whatever powers that she hadn’t cut it.

“Ben?” Her soft encouragement was accompanied by an impatient arch of her hips.

Unable to hold off, he sank deep inside her.

A thrust, two, and Allie arched up, her neck stretched, her breath frantic as his rhythm quickened. Sweat gathered on his shoulders, dripped down his arms, down his spine, an annoying tickle he used to prolong the pleasure of riding Allie. To draw out her second orgasm, and hold off his own.

It worked right up until she clamped her heels in his butt and surged beneath him. His balls drew up tight as her passage locked onto his shaft, the muscles rippling around his sensitive head. His body roared a “Hell yeah” and gave up the fight to hold off.

He crumpled on top of her, his cock still jerking deep in her depths, her breasts cushioning his sweat-dampened chest. Her body trembling as her own climax faded, Ben nibbled at the spot where her neck met her shoulder.

He hadn’t planned this—his dick had taken control when she’d jumped into his arms. And he definitely hadn’t planned to take her in the back of his truck, out in the open. Frankly, considering her accusation that someone had taped them the last time they’d made love out in the open, he was surprised she hadn’t whupped him up the side of the head and stalked off. But he hadn’t been able to resist when the old Allie—the fearless, balls-to-the-wall, live-life-to-its-fullest Allie—had reappeared.

He’d liked that Allie. Loved that Allie. Now he had to figure out who it was recovering beneath him—the conservative lawyer, who would be pissed off and hightail it back to Houston, or the Allie of old, who might be turned on enough to let him into her bedroom again.

Wait a minute. Was he really considering turning this one-time deal into a relationship? Even a short term one? He’d done one-night stands before, but not with Allie. She deserved more. Hell, he deserved more. He wanted more. Much more.

He was tired of being single, of coming home to an empty house. He wanted a life, a family, something other than cattle and crops. He wanted to someone to curl up with at night, to smile at him from across the breakfast—and dinner—table. Someone to talk to him, listen to him. Someone who would sing off key in that big-ass shower he’d had built.

Unwilling to break their tenuous connection yet, Ben shifted his weight over Allie and rested his head on her shoulder. He needed to move—the sun was baking his ass. It would hurt like a sumbitch if he got sunburnt. Just like he’d get hurt again if he let Allie back into his life. Losing Brittany the year before hadn’t hurt half as much as when Allie had disappeared without a word. If he was lucky when Allie walked away again—and she would, the moment she settled the claim—would be like Gabe said, the more women you walk away from or walk away from you, the less it hurts.

Something told him Gabe was wrong. When Allie walked away this time, it wouldn’t just hurt, his world would be ripped into shreds.

He inhaled, smelling the scent of fresh hay and Allie’s shampoo, and knew, whatever happened, he wouldn’t regret whatever time they were together. Content with his decision, he rolled off her and stared at the clouds scudding overhead. He might not have chosen this exact place or this exact moment to have gotten naked with her again, but right here, right now, life was fucking perfect.

* * *

What the heck had just happened? The moment Ben rolled off her, Allie snatched her clothes and, her hands shaking, jerked her top over her head. She’d
sworn
she was going to keep her distance, and here they’d mindlessly just had sex in the back of his truck. Okay, so it was really good sex, but this was Ben Grady. And it had been outside—
outside
for crying out loud, just like the last time when they’d filmed her. Had she learned nothing?

His hair standing up in spikes, Ben hiked himself up on his elbows. “You in a hurry to get back to your plaintiffs or claimants or whatever it is you call ‘em?”

Funny, she hadn’t even thought of SSTG or her claimants while she’d been driving. It was sort of nice not to have to worry about anyone or anything except where she was aiming the tractor. “I’d appreciate it—” she slipped on her panties “—if you don’t tell my boss—” and pulled on her shirt “—that I goofed off this afternoon.”

He caught her wrist as she wiggled her jeans over her hips. “You weren’t goofing off. We’d have been cutting tomorrow if you hadn’t come along. I appreciate how you pitched in. And as for what we just did,” where she’d expected to see a smirk there was heat and a promise of something more, “I don’t regret it at all.”

What we just did?
What she’d just done was lost her sanity.

Boots, where were her boots? She scrambled to the end of the truck bed and peered down. There, one was on the ground beneath the tailgate, the other...shoot, it was on the other side. What had she been thinking?

She tugged on her left boot. At least, she attempted to but ended up hopping around on one foot until Ben lifted her by the waist and set her on the truck bed again.

“Here, let me help.” He gave her a cautious glance as he helped push her foot into the first boot, then lifted her other foot.

Was he aware of how he was stroking her arch? Did he know how crazy it drove her? Or how fantastic his hands felt cupping her ass earlier? Shoot, this was not helping her keep her distance. Think about work. Bull’s Hollow. Shovelling shit. That didn’t exactly strike up many fond thoughts. “You said you were short hands?”

“Ever since the news broke about Tank’s claim, the rumors have been flying like crazy that the bank’s gonna foreclose and they aren’t gonna get paid.” Worry filling his voice, he leaned against the tailgate and tugged on his jeans. “Some of the younger ones can’t get off the ranch quick enough, though we haven’t missed a payday yet.”

“The banks won’t foreclose. Not when you’ve got title insurance.” All right, talking about work helped ground her. Him getting dressed did too.

“Tell it to the grapevine. Because they aren’t listening to me, even when I hand them their paychecks.” He rested his hands on her shoulders, an unreadable expression in his eyes. “Are we okay? I didn’t plan this, you know.”

“We’re okay, as long as you know it is not happening again.” She’d just had the best sex in...ages and she was denying herself again? She didn’t have to deny herself sex altogether, just not with Ben.

“Why are you running away in such a hurry?”

Her shoulders slumped. “I just...this shouldn’t have happened.”

“So you do regret it.” Though his tone was even, his expression had shuttered. She’d hurt him.

Not your problem anymore.
“It was just sex, all right? No regrets. For either of us.” Maybe if she repeated it to herself enough she’d believe it.

His jaw bunched tight, Ben gestured to the combine. “Are you up to drivin’ it back to the yard?”

“Of course.” She climbed in, a little sorry that the moment had been broken and the conversation had turned back to business, but also grateful that it had. She reached out to close the door. He was still standing there, watching her, that strange sadness on his face that set her guilt meter spinning. “Do you need something?”

“No. I have to finish up with the swather. I’ll catch up with you at the yard.”

She spent the trip back to the yard reminding herself all the reasons why getting into a relationship with Ben Grady wasn’t a good idea. Though the logical part of her brain knew he shouldn’t be held accountable for the sins of his grandfather, the illogical side needed someone to blame. Once in the main yard, Allie parked the combine beside the others and climbed down. She stuck her hands in her pockets and wandered through the ranch hands’ compound, toward the tiny cottage she and her father had shared, the porch where Ben had first kissed her. Past the window that had been her bedroom, the room where they’d made love for the second time. Stolen moments when she was supposed to be studying and he was supposed to be working the fence line.

She ducked into the shadows of the barn when Ben drove into the yard.

As he strode toward the trailer that served as his office, he stopped to talk with an older hand who dipped his head as if in deference. Not quite the same respect she’d seen them show his grandfather, but it was clear they knew he was in charge.

He was the boss, the head of Bull’s Hollow, possessive of every inch of land, every cow and horse, every blade of grass, damn everything else. He’d always loved this land, loved how his family had tamed it. It was as much a part of him as his blood. Being involved with him meant moving back here. Being surrounded by bad memories. Wondering if perhaps he might turn out a bitter old man just like his grandfather who might toss her off his land for some imagined infraction.

Even if he wasn’t, she didn’t fit here anymore. While she didn’t plan to make a career at SSTG, she planned to find another job in the legal field. In an actual law office, and there were precisely two in Carter Valley. Neither of which were looking for partners. Not that she’d give up her job on the chance of a possible relationship with a man she’d once loved.

* * *

What the hell had he been thinking out there? Logan was right. He’d let his dick do his thinking instead of his brain. Seeing Allie standing in the shadows, as if she didn’t want him to notice her, had him veering his course toward her. “Do we need to talk about what happened back there?” Though talking about what they’d just done was the last thing he wanted to do, in his experience women liked to talk things out. Which meant he might as well get it out there before things became even more uncomfortable between them.

She looked away for a moment, catching her lip between her teeth before she shook her head. “I’d rather not.” She met his gaze, her voice firming. “Let’s just say we were both scratching an itch and it won’t happen again.”

Well, crap. And good, he supposed, rubbing the heel of his hand against the ache in his chest. “Okay.” So why did he feel so rotten?

She stuck her hands in her pockets. “Just promise me there was no one videotaping us again, because if I find even a second of this on YouTube, I am gonna sue your ass and then I’ll castrate you.”

“It won’t. I promise you.” He drew in a breath against the hurt that she’d still think so badly of him. “You’ve been worried it might be released, haven’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Gramps wouldn’t have let anyone else see it.”

“Because he didn’t know how to upload a video?” Allie’s voice was heavy with sarcasm.

“Because he would have considered it an embarrassment to the Grady name,” he snapped. The same as he wouldn’t let a scandal about an illegitimate child touch his wife. Had Gramps hidden away a love child without anyone else knowing, even Gram? Ben kicked a rock and watched it skitter along the path.

What could he have done if he’d known about it? There was no way in Hell’s Half Acre George Grady would have listened to Ben when he was eighteen years old. Hell, if he was alive, Gramps wouldn’t listen to him even now.

“I know nothing I say can change the past.” He faced her, frustration filling his voice. “But I’ve already said I’m sorry for what Gramps or anyone else here on Bull’s Hollow did that hurt you. I don’t know what else I can do.”

“I’ve been living with this...this...” She bit off the words as she searched for the word.

“Resentment? Anger?” he supplied. “You think you’re the only one who was hurt? I hadn’t a clue what had happened to you after you left. For a long time I didn’t believe what they told me. I mean, I believed about your dad, but I didn’t think you were in on it for a second. But then you didn’t answer my emails. You didn’t text me or contact me. What was I to think, huh?”

“I told you my father—”

“But I didn’t know that, did I?” How had they gone from making love a half hour before to butting heads again? “I only knew what they told me—that you’d been using me to get information about the ranch. I didn’t want to believe it but then you didn’t respond. You didn’t set me straight, so after a while I believed them.” He stared out over the fields, fighting the rising anger, stuffing it down. “Then I got real pissed. I don’t—didn’t trust any girl from then on. Not for a long time. Too many of them had dollar signs in their eyes, thinking I was rich because my grandfather owned the ranch, thinking they’d end up rich if they caught me. And some tried.” Brittany had come too damned close—thank God he’d learned the truth about her before he’d walked down the aisle with her.

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