The buzzing against the underside of his shaft roused him from that happy pecker place. Staying embedded in her ass, he reached down between them and slid the vibrator out of her cunt, rubbing it up over her slit.
“Kane—”
“Come for me, sugar.” He nestled the rounded end on her clit and held it there.
Ginger bucked against him, dislodging the vibrator.
“Hold still. Let it happen.”
Although she stopped wiggling, her breath remained uneven. Kane wanted to press his mouth between her shoulder blades and taste the perspiration dotting her skin. He wanted to lay his head there and hear her heart beating.
Then she tensed and the throbbing pulses from her orgasm constricted her anal passage around his dick, and he felt every spasm as she came.
Kane eased out and retreated to the bathroom to clean up. He returned, placing the cool cloth over her ravaged tissues and unwound the rope.
Ginger slid forward to rest on her belly and groaned.
Was that a good groan? Or a bad groan?
He reached for her hand, noticing the red rope burns on her wrists. Holy shit. What was she supposed to say when her clients saw those rope marks? “Oh, ignore those. My rough and raunchy secret lover likes to tie me up when he f**ks me in the ass.”
Maybe you should be more worried about what her son will say when he sees them.
Or her father.
Kane froze. What the f**k was wrong with him? Ginger wasn’t some bar wench who was up for anything-goes domination bedroom games. Ginger was a well-respected woman in the community. A mother. A daughter.
A classy broad too good for the likes of you.
No kidding. No wonder she didn’t want to go public with their relationship. She probably never would. And once again he was reminded of the chasm between them. How much longer would she be willing to play the dirty-rancher-seduces-the-horny-lawyer bedroom games? Chances were pretty good once she caught sight of the hickeys and rope marks on her body it’d be over.
He lifted her arm, tenderly kissing the red marks. “I got a little rough.”
No answer.
Her cell phone rang. Since she didn’t look like she had the energy to pick it up—or maybe she was too embarrassed to look at him—Kane handed it to her without a word.
She rolled onto her back. “Hello? Hey, Hayden. Really? I can’t wait to hear about your adventure.
Tell Ms. Dunnigan I’ll come and get you. Okay. Bye.” She tossed the phone on the bed. “I need to go to the office right now. I hope the senior bus can deliver Dad home. I really don’t want to dig my car and our van out of the snowdrifts.”
“I can help you do all that. But first…” Kane captured her mouth, intending to give her a possessive kiss, but changed his mind at the last second, trying to keep it relaxed.
Ginger pulled away immediately. “Enough, don’t you think?” She rolled off the bed, snagged her clothes and shut the bathroom door with a decisive click.
Yeah. The word enough summed up everything he was feeling—and none of it was good.
Chapter Sixteen
Brandt’s cell phone buzzed in his front shirt pocket for the fourth time. He ignored it, knowing it was her. Knowing she was having some other crisis and desperately needed his help.
Sad thing was he was so desperate for the sound of his brother’s widow’s voice he almost answered it.
What if she needs you? What if it’s something serious?
He ground his teeth. In all the times she’d called him in the last year, nothing had been earth-shatteringly important.
Every time he and Jessie had connected in the last two weeks, he’d managed to keep the phone call short. He wondered if she’d noticed. Then in the last week he’d stopped answering her calls altogether.
Goddammit, cutting Jessie out of his life hurt like a son of a bitch. He’d realized the night he’d raced to her rescue that she’d never see him as anything but the helpful brother of her dead husband. Hell, she’d even told him she considered him like a brother.
Brandt grunted. His feelings for her were so goddamn far from sisterly it wasn’t f**king funny.
“Brandt. Buddy, you’re up.”
He took the cell phone out of his pocket and set it on the table. He grabbed his cue and lined up his shot, trash talking with Tell, Dalton and Ben as they finished up their weekly pool game. After he scratched on the eight ball, he grudgingly gave both his little brothers ten bucks, and listened to Ben grumble about his shitty pool playing as they returned to the booth.
The waitress swung by just as his cell phone vibrated on the tabletop again. Brandt looked up at her and smiled. She was sort of cute.
That’s because she reminds you of Jessie.
He’d been tempted for about two seconds to ask for her number. Scratch that idea. “I’ll have another Coors.”
Dalton plopped down across from him. “Make it three. Nope, better make it four, Tell’s gonna stick around for one more.”
The phone continued to buzz.
His youngest brother frowned at him. “Ain’t you gonna get that?”
“Nah.”
“You sure?”
“Yep. It’s nothin’ important.”
“Your phone’s been ringing a lot tonight.”
“You’re right. This’ll fix it.” Brandt reached over and shut the phone off.
Jessie McKay paced in the kitchen in her tiny rented trailer. “Come on, pick up,” she muttered as she switched the position of her cell phone to her other ear. Voice mail clicked on for the fifth time and she snapped the phone shut.
“Dammit, Brandt. Where are you?” She’d had a lousy day and needed someone to vent to. Brandt never minded listening to her complain, but he’d been pretty scarce since the night he’d invited her home with him. She’d chalked up his uncharacteristic moon-eyed behavior to the fact he’d been drinking before he showed up. The poor man was probably embarrassed for making a pass at her.
She took the pot pie out of the microwave and dropped it on the lace placemat on the table. One placemat. On days like today, when it seemed like everything in the world had gone wrong, seeing that lone placemat, when there used to be two, could bring on a fit of tears like nobody’s business.
Don’t be a crybaby, Jessie.
How many times had she heard that? From her father? From Luke?
Too many to count. But really, who’d know if she sobbed at her dinette table like a lost little girl? She felt like one most days. It wasn’t as if she had friends to confide in since moving to Moorcroft. She’d started to make friends with the women she worked with at Sky Blue, but that wasn’t a good way to cement a friendship, by whining about how sucky her life was.