Wyoming Fierce Page 2

  “Tank won’t be happy, either,” she added, using the nickname that family used for Dalton, the youngest brother.

  He shrugged. “Tank will be knee-deep in those old Tom Mix silent cowboy movies he likes. It’s Saturday night. He makes popcorn, takes the phone off the hook, locks himself in and saturates himself with black-and-white cinema.”

  “That’s what you should be doing, instead of wrecking bars!” she muttered.

  He sighed. “A man’s got to have some recreation, kid,” he said defensively.

  “Not this sort,” she said firmly. “Come on. Poor Sid will have to clean up this mess.”

  Sid came around the bar. He was huge, and dangerous-looking, but he kept a few steps away from Cane. “Why can’t you do this at home, Cane?” he groaned, looking around.

  “Because we’ve got delicate objets d’art in glass cabinets,” Cane replied reasonably. “Mallory would kill me.”

  Sid glared at him. “When Mr. Holsten sees the bill for replacing all this—” he waved his hand “—you may be getting a visit…”

  Cane pulled out his wallet and pressed a wad of hundreds into the bartender’s hand. “If that’s not enough, you let me know.”

  Sid grimaced. “It will be enough, but it’s the principle of the thing! Why can’t you go up to Jackson Hole and wreck bars?”

  Cane blinked. “It would take too long to get Bodie up there. I’d be arrested.”

  “You should be!”

  Cane’s black eyes narrowed and he took a step forward.

  Sid backed up.

  “Oh, come on,” Bodie grumbled. She tugged on Cane’s hand. “I’m going to fail biology because of you. I was studying for exams!”

  “Biology? You’re majoring in anthropology,” he argued.

  “Yes, but I still have to pass the minimum required courses of study, and that’s one of them! I couldn’t put it off any longer so I had to take it this semester!”

  “Oh.”

  “See you, Sid. Hope not soon,” she added with a laugh.

  He managed a smile. “Thanks, Bodie. Especially for…” He gestured toward Cane. “You know.”

  “Oh, yes, I do know.” She nodded.

  She pulled Cane out the door and onto the porch. “Where’s your coat?” she asked.

  He blinked as the cold air hit him. “In the truck, I think. I don’t need it. ’S’not cold,” he said, his voice beginning to slur.

  “It’s below freezing out here!”

  He gave her a woozy look and grinned. “I’m hot-blooded.”

  She averted her eyes. “Come on. Darby’s waiting. I’ll drive your truck out to the ranch. Where’s the key?”

  “Right front pocket.”

  She glared at him. “Going to get it for me?”

  “No.”

  Her bow lips made a thin line. “Cane!”

  “Go fish,” he teased.

  She glanced around him at Darby.

  “No,” he said, putting his hand over his pocket. “Not giving it to him.”

  “Cane!”

  “Not!” he repeated.

  “Oh, all right!”

  She pushed his hand aside and dug into his pocket for the keys, hating the deep, sensual sound that came out of his throat as her fingers closed around them. She was flushing and hoped he couldn’t see. The contact was almost intimate, especially when he suddenly stepped closer so that her small, pert breasts flattened against his broad chest.

  “Nice,” he whispered, his lips brushing the thick waves of her short hair. “Smells pretty. Feels good, too,” he added, his one good hand pushing her chest against his so that he could feel the sudden hardening of her nipples.

  She gasped.

  “Yes, you like that, don’t you?” he whispered. “I wish my shirt was off, and I could feel your bare breasts against my chest....”

  She grasped the keys and jerked away from him, her face blazing. “You shut up!” she said under her breath.

  He made a face. “’How dare you!’” he mimicked in a high-pitched tone. “How Victorian you sound.” He laughed shortly. “I know all about you college girls. You all sleep around and you want taxpayers to make sure you get birth control so you can do it.”

  She didn’t reply. Lots of people thought the same thing. She wasn’t getting into another fight with him, which was what he wanted. He was goading her. Odd, he’d never done it in such a sensual way before. It was affecting her, and she didn’t like it.

  “Go on, get in,” she muttered, almost forcing him into the truck beside Darby.

  “And fasten your seat belt!” she added.

  He gave her another woozy smile. “No. You do it.”

  She let out a cuss word and then flushed and apologized.

  “No need to say sorry for that,” Darby muttered, glaring at Cane. “I feel the same way.”

  Cane glared at him. “Not riding with you!”

  He got out of the truck in spite of Bodie’s protests, and when Darby got out to try to force him in, he raised a fist and got into a fighting stance. It reminded both of them that he had a black belt in an Asian martial art discipline.

  “Oh, all right, you can ride in your own truck and I’ll drive!” Bodie raged.

  He grinned, having gotten his way. He went like a lamb to his own truck, waited for Bodie to flick the remote and let him in. He even fastened his seat belt.

  She started the truck, waving Darby to go ahead.

  “You’re more trouble than cattle!” she told Cane.

  He smiled at her. “You think so? Why don’t you slide over here next to me?” he added with a raised eyebrow. “We can discuss cattle.”

  “I’m driving.”

  “Oh.” He blinked. “Okay, I’ll slide over next to you…” He started to unfasten his seat belt.

  “You do that and I’m calling Cody Banks!” she told him, digging out her prepaid cell phone and showing it to him. “You wear a seat belt when the truck is in motion. It’s the law!”

  “The law.” He scoffed.

  “Yes, well, you unfasten that belt and I’m calling him, just the same.”

  He made a face but he stopped fiddling with the belt. He stared at her, his face hard, his black eyes snapping. Actually she only had about five minutes of phone time left on the device, and she didn’t want to waste it calling the sheriff when she might need it for emergencies. Cane could afford a high-tech cell phone and a plan to go with it. Bodie was lucky to have even a cheap one.

  “What happened this time?” she asked, not sure she really wanted an answer. But at least it would keep him talking.

  His jaw tautened.

  “Come on,” she coaxed. “You can tell me. You know I won’t repeat it.”

  “Most of what I tell you, you wouldn’t dare repeat,” he muttered, averting his eyes.

  “Yes.”

  She waited, not pushing, not prodding, not even coaxing.

  He seemed to sober a little. “I had on the damned prosthesis. Looks real, right? At least, until you get close up.” He looked out the window at the passing dark silhouettes of bare trees and pasture. “I took her up to my room. It’s been a long time. I was hungry.” Fortunately for Bodie, he couldn’t see the brief anguish that skirted across her face. “I started to take off my shirt and when she saw the straps that held the prosthesis in place, she stopped me dead. She said it was nothing personal, she just couldn’t do it with a man who was crippled like that. She had to have a whole man.”

  “Oh, Cane,” she said softly. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry. Yes. She was sorry, too. I took off the damned prosthesis and threw it at the wall. Then I flew home.” He laid his head back against the headrest. “I couldn’t think about anything else. The look on her face, when she saw that thing…haunted me all day. By sundown, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to get that memory out of my mind. Had to!”

  She bit her lower lip. What could she say? Of all the things to happen. She hated knowing that he had women. That
wasn’t even her business. But for a woman to treat him that way, after all he’d been through, as if he was less than a man because he lost part of his arm fighting in a conflict sanctioned by his country. It was unthinkable.

  “I can’t live like this!” he burst out. “I can’t go through the rest of my life being half a man, being pitied…!”

  She stopped the truck. “You stop that!” she said harshly. “You’re not half a man! You’re a hero! You ran right over the damned IED, knowing it would blow up, to save the medics in the jeep behind you! You knew your vehicle had better armor, you knew the bomb would explode when the column went past. You made a sacrifice, saved God knows how many lives by saving those medics. And some stupid woman makes a remark out of ignorance, and you throw away that heroism, that act of gutsy courage, like a used tissue. Well, I won’t let you do it! I won’t!”

  He gaped at her through a drunken haze. He shook his head.

  She started the truck going forward again. Her face felt hot.

  “How do you know that, about me?”

  “Tank told me,” she said gently. “The last time I had to go get you from a bar. He said it was tragic, not only what happened to you, but that you wanted to forget something that won you a silver star.”

  “Oh.”

  She drew in a long breath. “Why do you date women like that in the first place?”

  “Most of the women around here are married or ugly.”

  She glared at him. “Thanks, from the ugly brigade, I mean.”

  “I didn’t mean you,” he said easily. He pursed his lips and studied her. “You’re not ugly, but your breasts are too small.”

  The truck almost ran off the road. “Cane!” she exclaimed.

  “Don’t worry about it, a lot of men like small breasts. I just like nice big ones. And a soft, sweet belly to sink against when I get inside all that delicate, wet…”

  “Cane!” she exclaimed again, flushing.

  “Oh, come on, you know about that,” he said, leaning his head back. “Nothing so cushy as a woman lifting to you on cool sheets, feeling you thrust into her, swelling and swelling until you burst and she cries out with the pleasure.”

  “I get sex education in school!”

  “Well, you get the basics, but they don’t tell you how good it feels, do they? Or that men come in different sizes and shapes. I’m well-endowed myself. Not too big, but I can…”

  “Will you please stop?” she raged.

  He glanced at her. “Getting aroused, are we?” He chuckled in a deep, soft, sensual tone. “You’re not really my type, kid, and you’re too young, but I could make you get off like a machine gun firing.”

  She swallowed, stepping on the gas.

  “But I don’t think your grandfather would ever forgive me. That’s probably why you go to college out of state, so he won’t know what you’re up to. How many lovers have you had?”

  “Can’t we talk about the weather?” she asked, trying not to sound desperate. She was aroused, unbelievably aroused. He wouldn’t know it, but she was still a virgin. Despite that, the imagery was giving her real problems.

  He stretched and grimaced. “Sure. It’s cold.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you like the man to get on top, or do you like to get on top? I can go deeper that way,” he said as easily as if he was discussing the weather.

  She groaned.

  “Real deep, in fact,” he murmured, getting drowsy. “I remember this one woman, she was small and I was afraid I’d hurt her. But she got on top and pumped me like a shotgun, screaming the whole time. We went all night long.” He grinned. “She liked to try new positions. So one time…”

  “I don’t want to hear about your sexual acrobatics, Cane!” Her voice was high-pitched and desperate.

  He rolled his head against the headrest so that he could see her face. “Jealous?”

  “I am not jealous!”

  He smiled. But the smile faded. “You’d have to get on top,” he said coldly. “I don’t have two arms to prop on anymore. I don’t even know if I could do it now. I wanted to find out. I wanted to see if I could still be a man....”

  “Cane, there are men all over the world who have lost arms and legs and who can still have sex,” she pointed out, trying to restrain her embarrassment. “People find a way!”

  He drew in a long breath. “I won’t have the nerve to try again,” he said in a haunted tone. “She said I was a cripple.” His eyes closed. “A cripple. She wanted a whole man....”

  She pulled up at the front of the house and blew the horn. She almost jumped out when Tank came onto the front porch.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “DAMN IT, CANE,” TANK, aka Dalton, muttered under his breath as he helped Bodie get his brother out of the truck and up onto the porch. “Why do you do this to yourself?”

  “He does share,” Bodie replied. “He did it to the bar also.”

  Dalton groaned.

  “I paid the bar tab, and extra.” Cane sighed. He pulled away from his brother. “I want her to take me upstairs.” He pointed to Bodie.

  “No way. I have to go home. I’m studying for biology finals.”

  “Won’t go if you don’t go with me,” Cane said obstinately.

  Dalton grimaced. He looked at Bodie, pleadingly.

  “Oh, all right. But then I have to go home, and somebody will have to drive me.”

  “I’ll take you home,” Dalton promised. He smiled. “Thanks.”

  She shrugged. “You’re welcome.”

  She got under Cane’s good arm, shimmering all over at the feel of that powerful body so close to hers, and guided him up the steps.

  “You owe me, pal,” she muttered.

  His hand slid over her arm, his fingers accidentally brushing the rounded underside of her breast in the process, and dragging a helpless shock of pleasure that echoed from her throat.

  “Mmm-hmm,” he murmured.

  She got him into his room. He pushed the door closed behind them and let her guide him to the bed, but when he went down, he pulled her with him.

  “Now,” he breathed, his hand under her back. “I want to find out something....”

  She opened her mouth to ask what and his was suddenly teasing around it, nibbling at her upper lip, teasing the underside with his tongue. The mastery of the caress left her helpless. She just lay there, shocked, tempted…tingling all over with new sensations.

  He unsnapped the bra and, leaning on the stump of his left arm, proceeded to unbutton his shirt while his lips were playing with hers. Seconds later, he’d pushed up her shirt and bra and his bare, hair-matted, muscular chest was pressing down against skin that had never been touched.

  “Small,” he groaned, “but firm and soft and sweet.”

  His thumb and forefinger were teasing the nipple, making it hard. She shivered.

  “Yes.” He bent his head and his mouth suddenly opened, hot and moist, right on top of the nipple. He pulled at it tenderly, rasped it against his tongue and finally took all of her into his mouth and suckled her.

  She came up off the bed shuddering, trying to contain the hoarse, pulsing cry of pleasure that accompanied the action.

  His lean hand was behind her, pushing into her jeans as he shifted, so that he could bring her hips into intimate contact with him. She felt him swell, felt the size and power of him, in a contact she’d never shared with a man in her whole life. Repressed, raised religiously by a grandfather whose morals were still Victorian, she’d kept herself chaste. Now this man, this playboy, was trying to use her like one of his women, make her into his toy, to salve the ego that another woman had hurt.

  She was trying to remember all that while one long leg curled around her and his mouth grew more insistent. She was so engrossed in new sensations that she barely heard the knock on the door until it was repeated, loudly.

  “Cane! Bodie needs to go home!”

  Bodie sat bolt upright, gaping down at Cane, whose expression was
a cross between shock and shame.

  “On my way!” she called, hoping her voice didn’t sound as unsettled as she felt. She fumbled her bra back in place, pulled her shirt down and stared at Cane in shock.

  His mouth was swollen from its long contact with her body. His breathing was fast. But the alcohol suddenly seemed to catch up with him. He stared at her, blinked, started to speak and fell back onto the bed, snoring.

  She got up and opened the door.

  Tank looked in past her and sighed. “Thank God,” he mused. “I was afraid he might try to get out of hand.” He looked her over, and apparently didn’t see anything to concern him. She was mussed, but that could have come from manhandling Cane into bed. Or so she guessed.

  “He’s a handful all right. I thought I’d never get him into the bed. He’s heavy!” she muttered, trying to bluff.

  “Yes, he is.” He shook his head. “I wish he’d stop picking up women in bars,” he added coldly. “At his age, he should be thinking about a family.”

  “Some men never settle down,” she replied, going ahead of him downstairs. “He seems to be one of those.”

  “You never know. We’re in your debt, again,” he emphasized, and smiled gently. “Isn’t there something we can do for you?”

  She smiled and nodded. “Yes. Drive me home, please. I still have to study.”

  “Come on. Yes, I remember finals. No fun.”

  “Yes, but I only have one more semester to go. If I pass everything, I get my degree.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then, on to my master’s.” She sighed. “With digs in between and a nice full-time job this next summer to help pay for it all.”

  “We could…”

  She held up a hand. “You’ve done so much for Granddaddy. You don’t need to do anything for me. I’m happy to help out, any way I can. You’re a nice family.”

  He smiled. “Thanks. Your granddad was one of the best wranglers we ever had. Shame he had to go and get old,” he added gently.

  “I feel the same way!”

  * * *

  HE DROVE HER HOME. She went inside, just in time to catch her grandfather in a conversation on the telephone.

  “But where would I go, Will?” he was asking heavily. “This was my daughter’s place…yes, I know you own it. But I can’t pay that much in rent! My little monthly check from the Kirks helps, but I’m still trying to get on disability…yes, I know. I know. All right, I’ll try to come up with it. You wouldn’t really…? Hello?”