Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3) (117 page)

Her lips trembled and he impulsively dipped his head, soothing her with his mouth. She tasted of rum and sweetness, and he tugged her closer. Her curves fit him perfectly, and he immediately hardened.

He slid his hand beneath her shirt and cupped her breast, thumbing her nipple beneath the bra. Christ, he wanted her. No need for either of them to think about Slim right now. He edged her bra up, pushing it out of the way, exploring her soft breasts.

He loved the feel of her, ripe with the promise of hot sex—much like before, when she’d jerked away in panic. What was it that had set her off?

He wished she’d tell him. He’d have to work around it, but damn, she was worth the wait. He lifted her up and carried her to the sofa.

“Don’t take your clothes off.” He dragged his mouth gently over her neck but kept a possessive hand on her breast. “Not until we get to know one another better.”

Her arms stiffened around his neck.

“For instance,” he said, “does this tickle? Or does it feel good?” His mouth skimmed a warm path behind her earlobe. She arched into his chest.

“Kind of both. It’s…nice.” Her voice was throaty.

“What about this?” He thumbed her nipple, watching her face. Her eyes were closed as though to shut out reality. But her mouth parted, and he couldn’t resist covering her mouth with another hungry kiss.

He pushed her shirt higher, exposing her flat belly and twisted bra, her lovely breasts on full display. She lay beneath him, eyes still closed. He lowered his mouth over her nipple, swirling it gently, enjoying her involuntary moan.

She didn’t seem gun-shy at this point and he was more than ready, but he didn’t want to scare her again either. Best to get her accustomed to his hands and mouth, erase any of that previous jumpiness. And he liked her breasts, her pink nipples all hard and puckered from his touch. He also liked the way she curled so trustingly against him. Could spend all day kissing her.

Her eyes flickered open at his satisfied sigh. “Doesn’t seem fair that my shirt is half off,” she said, “and you’re still dressed.”

“We’re not taking any clothes off today.” He possessively palmed her breast, watching her face.

“Really?” She arched an eyebrow. “My shirt is pretty much off.”

“Not technically. Only lifted.” He leaned down and sucked her left nipple, spending even more time with a detailed exploration of her chest. “Why don’t you tell me about it?” he finally whispered, raising his head and skimming her neck with reassuring kisses.

“Tell you what?”

“What happened? Why you’re scared.” He reached back and unhooked her bra. “Why you’re not allowed to take your clothes off.”

“Is this your usual strategy?” She smiled, clearly unaware he’d undid her bra. “A little reverse psychology?”

He hadn’t intended to unhook her bra. Force of habit. But at least her chest was bare, and she seemed comfortable with that. Heck, she was even smiling, her lower lip thick and sexy. However, it was clear she was trying to trivialize an event in her past and suddenly it was important she trust him. He cupped her breast, stroking her with his thumb, alert for any sign of panic.

“Aggressive boyfriend maybe?” he asked.

“No, not that. It was the home…” She stopped talking.

He moved his hand to her neck and kneaded the tightness. Silent but waiting.

“There was a man there,” she finally said, peeking up at him. “Creepy Craig we called him, but of course never to his face. If you were a girl, a certain age, he pretended to be nice. But after a while he’d make you strip. He’d take pictures.”

Her voice turned so low, he had to lean closer.

“Guess he sold them on the Internet,” she said. “I tried to hide but he’d corner you in the basement—he had a camera set up. He noticed me when I was thirteen. He was big and…strong.”

Dino’s jaw flexed. “Where’s the fucker live?”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. They’re not allowed to foster any more. Not after the police incident.”

His arms tightened, and he forced them to loosen, aware he was squeezing her much too tightly.

She didn’t seem to notice. Just continued speaking in a flat voice. “There was a new girl, Olivia. She had the prettiest hair, always wore a pink ribbon. She was crying, calling for help. I couldn’t stand it. Whacked Craig in the head with a pot. He was in the hospital for a while and after that…well, not many foster homes would take me.”

His arms tightened again, and he realized his hands had fisted. But he couldn’t seem to speak. “Wish I had been there. To help,” he finally managed, his voice hoarse.

He adjusted her shirt, his emotions churning. Her long hair, her oversize clothes. No wonder she’d been hiding. And the thought of her going after the creep with nothing but a pot. He swallowed, hard. “Those foster homes missed out on one brave little girl.”

He tucked her head under his chin, his hand wrapped around her hair. Neither of them spoke for a long time.

She was the first to move away, tilting her wrist and discretely checking her watch.

“It’s only four,” he said, glancing at the clock in the kitchen, oddly loath to move. “Why don’t you hang around here? Go for dinner later?”

“I thought we were all going for dinner tomorrow?”

“That’s right. We are.” He stroked her hair, staring over her head at the second guesthouse. He couldn’t protect her from the past, but he could sure as hell protect her from Slim. Make sure she wasn’t alone until things were sorted out. Besides, he wanted to see her. “Do you eat with Martha every night?”

“Usually. She likes to hear about the horses over dinner, although lately she doesn’t eat much. A few spoonfuls of soup.”

“But you have to eat,” he said. “How about I’ll pick up some Chinese food. If you’re hungry later, drop back down.” He watched her face but she didn’t look enthused. Maybe she didn’t like Chinese food. “Or I can order pizza,” he added quickly. “And I can show you how the new surveillance works.”

“It’s already installed?” She twisted in his arms. “Does Slim know?”

“I’ll tell him about the two cameras on the entrance but not the one on Echo’s stall.” He dropped an apologetic kiss on her forehead. “That’s why we couldn’t leave Slim’s place right away—they were installing the nanny cam. Once I program the computer, we’ll have a live feed of Echo and the stall on the left.”

“Then we’ll be able to watch Lyric too. See if she tries to escape.” She wiggled in his arms, her voice rising with excitement. “What time will you have it working?”

He smiled. Food hadn’t been the draw but Lyric was. “Drop back around eight, and it should be set up.”

“Okay. And I’ll bring a copy of Slim’s file for you.” She edged from his arms, struggling to refasten her bra.

“Here. Let me.” He reached around and attached the clasp, stoically returning his hands to his side.

“Thank you. You’re really understanding about all this.” Her smile wavered but she kept her steady gaze on his face. “Or are you feeling grossed out that my pictures might be on the Internet?”

“I’m feeling a lot of things,” he said, “but grossed out is definitely not one of them.”

***

Martha’s face was pale, her hand clammy and cold, and Becky’s concern spiked. “Here’s a smaller fork. Try the shrimp. They’re delicious. Jocelyn said they’re from Canada.”

“Yes,” Martha said. “Coldwater shrimp are always tastier than our bigger shrimp.”

“Cold water? Is that what makes them so good?” Becky pretended interest in the plate, but her despair rose in waves. Martha was barely eating and despite the small size of the truly delicious shrimp, she only toyed with her food. “Echo races in two days,” Becky added brightly.

“How exciting.” Martha’s mouth curled in a wan imitation of a smile, and she didn’t look at all excited.

It wouldn’t matter now if Slim were fired, Becky thought, balling her napkin. Didn’t appear Martha would even care. Probably Dino would fire him tomorrow—definitely not tonight when Slim was obviously plastered. She only hoped his contract provided for some sort of severance, for Jill’s sake.

“I like the blouse you’re wearing. And the earrings.” Martha’s gaze lingered on Becky’s face, and her eyes sparked with a hint of approval. “You’re really quite lovely when you take some care with your appearance. Always remember that clothes make a woman.”

Becky tried to work the lump from her throat. She couldn’t imagine life without Martha—without her opinions, her advice, her affection. “Tomorrow night,” she said, “Dino wants to take us for dinner. Said you should pick the restaurant. That you know all the best places.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t stand the drive. But you go. Relax with Dino. Stop taking things so seriously.”

Becky’s cheeks warmed, and she refolded her napkin. “I’m not,” she said. She hadn’t felt one bit serious when his mouth had roamed over her breasts. Not one whiff of embarrassment. Or fear. Middle of the afternoon and she’d literally bared her chest.

“It’s time you live a little.” Martha leaned forward, and there was no missing the interest in her eyes. “What happened before is in the past. Everyone needs some fun, and Dino is excellent at making women feel good.”

Becky’s face flamed and she dropped any pretense of eating. She considered pressing her cold glass against her cheeks, but Martha’s smile was too knowing. Still, this topic had definitely injected Martha with some vitality and if talking about sex helped, then Becky was all for it. If only she could control her self-consciousness.

She forced her head up, keeping her voice light, pretending it really wasn’t a big decision. “You think I should sleep with Dino?”

“My dear,” Martha said dryly, “judging by the way he looks at you, there won’t be much sleeping.”

Becky almost dropped her glass. “Really,” she squeaked.

Martha’s smile widened as she picked up her fork and speared a pink shrimp. “Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I can’t see. And I love talking about sex. Why Malcolm and I, the things we did...”

And now Becky did press the glass against her face. “But that’s different,” she said, firmly blocking any visuals. “You loved each other.”

“Well, I certainly had my share of men before Malcolm. How else does one know how a husband ranks as a lover?”

She sounded so adamant, Becky leaned forward, embarrassment tempered with curiosity. “Really? Don’t you think it’s important that the man cares for you first?”

Martha gave an unladylike snort. “Of course they care for you. But men are like stallions. At breeding time, the mare standing in front of them is the most important thing in the world.”

“I guess,” Becky said. “But Dino has a lot of women in front of him.”

“I haven’t seen any lately.”

“No, but—”

“Don’t make things complicated. Before I die, I need to know you’re ready to live.”

Becky jerked back. This was the first time Martha had actually talked about dying, and her calm acceptance ripped at her. “Well I’m not ready,” she said, her voice cracking, “so you’ll have to stick around for years and years. A man took pictures of me naked, and I don’t want sex, and I don’t want Dino. I just want you.”

Martha’s smile turned smug. “Pictures. So that’s what it was. I always wondered why you hated attention. But now look at you.” She opened her arms. “Come here and give an old woman a hug.”

Becky leaned over, swept with a fierce protectiveness, wanting to squeeze Martha and keep her safe forever. Her tiny body felt so brittle, it only made her throat convulse. And Martha never hugged, had never been demonstrative—even with Malcolm.

“Don’t worry. I’m not saying goodbye,” Martha said dryly, as if reading her thoughts. “Some legal items need to be finalized first, and I want to hear all about your transition sex with Dino.”

Transition sex?
Becky’s tears mingled with laughter as Martha gently freed herself from the embrace and edged to the front of her chair. “Good God, Martha. Okay. If it happens, I’ll let you know.” She wiped her eyes before reaching down to help Martha up, not sure if the tears were from laughter or sorrow. “And there’s also Echo’s race and then Hunter runs.”

“Oh? Well, that sounds good.” Martha tilted her head. “When exactly is Hunter’s race?”

“In two weeks, maybe, or when the meets move south. Sometime soon anyway,” Becky said, noting Martha’s reaction. Tonight she’d ask Dino to enter Hunter in a race. Any race. And if sex stories would stoke Martha’s interest, she’d provide details, even if she had to make every one of them up.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Stars dotted the sky, and a bold yellow moon lit Dino’s driveway. A beautiful night for lovers. Or even just sex. A rush of nerves jolted Becky, and she jammed the car to a stop and stepped out. Slim’s file felt awkward in her hand, and she realized her fingers shook.

Steps crunched and she whirled, slamming her elbow painfully on the door.

“Heard your car,” Dino said, his voice calm and slow and assured. “I was checking the horses. Want to walk back over before we go inside?”

“Sure,” she said, rubbing her elbow, not sure if he sensed she was nervous or because the stall check wasn’t finished. He probably knew she was nervous. He was always so savvy, so confident, so…experienced.

“The sky’s pretty tonight, isn’t it?” He looked up, seemed in no hurry to return to the barn.

She nodded then realized he couldn’t see her head. “That’s a nice bright star beneath the moon.”

He slipped his arm around her. “Not a star, honey. That’s a planet.”

“Oh.” And she didn’t feel stupid, only reassured by the natural way he tucked her against him. “What planet?” she asked.

“Venus.”

His deep voice rumbled, his breath fanning her hair, as he pointed out constellations, mentioning several names she’d heard of but had never really noted. She nodded, interested in the sky but mainly thinking how nice he was.

He must have felt her sigh because he chuckled and turned her around. “Am I boring you?”

“Not at all,” she said.

He stared for a moment. Then his head dipped, covering her mouth with his, and she forgot about the planets and stars and constellations. She arched forward, seeking the feel of his mouth, the hardness of his body, his hot maleness. The kiss deepened