The Cowboy's Texas Heart (The Dixons of Legacy Ranch 3)

Chapter Two

Aspray of pebbles or God only knew what showered around them, irritating Heart’s eyes. She pinched them shut and gripped Ty hard, fingers weaving into his shaggy hat head. Felt his fist in her hair tighten further, too, so hard, it tugged on the roots. He lay so heavily spread upon her, bracing the corrugated metal, she could scarcely pull in a fortifying breath.

His Stetson was cupped over her crown, shielding her from the onslaught as he hunched his face into her neck. For a moment, even in this madness, she’d sworn she’d seen him soften. Sworn she’d felt the same heat simmering up between them. As if even at a time like this, he’d felt a kiss brewing, the same as she had.

Cedar aftershave and salt of the earth filled her nose, buried so snuggly in him. So good. She soaked in the scent, having wanted to lick it from his skin last night. She’d be grateful for a deep breath now just to fill her lungs with this masculine smell and carry the memory with her.

God, she was nearly ripping his hair out. She unclenched her hands, which she now realized were yanking on his roots, too.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped.

Though she thought she heard him murmur, “I’ve got you, Tie-Dye. Hold onto me,” beside her ear…

Tie-Dye?Like the shirt she’d been wearing last night? He had an endearment for her? It meant he’d been thinking about her, too, and a thrill shot through her at the thought…

She could hear him. It was still loud and windy, but the raging wind seemed to be receding a degree. No, she didn’t want reality intruding on them. She didn’t want to think about her poor pickup or her smashed research and smashed survey equipment or car accidents that changed lives forever and how reckless it was to want to kiss her one-night stand for the second time. Minutes passed.

She unclenched her eyes as she felt his head uncurl from her neck, and skimmed her gaze up his Adam’s apple, over his throat and muscled neck, to his shadowed face. His eyes were closed, face granite as if he was seeing a ghost as his throat bobbed, long lashes splayed shut. Why did nature give guys the thickest eyelashes? Unfair.

She wanted to see those dark brown depths again. He had amazing eyes. She’d hardly been graced with the nuances last night, and today she’d barely glimpsed them before he’d practically tossed her over his shoulder like a caveman to haul her to safety.

His whole body, rock solid, was torqued as wind whistled past them, so focused, body against body…

Sex against sex.She was suddenly painfully aware that her legs were cinched around him…just like last night…as if she were a stripper on a pole, and as she wiggled beneath him for a deep breath, she was pretty certain she heard him growl against her ear.

“Baby, don’t do that,” he husked.

She bit her lip. Focused on the sting on her shin. Something had nicked her. At some point his hand had released its punishing hold upon her hair and was now spanning her crown protectively. The phone in his pocket buzzed against her inner thigh. Buzzed again, as texts stacked up, but he made no move to fish the device out.

Her hands moved from his head, around his nape, down his shoulders, to his—holy triceps. He caressed her hair as if a mindless reaction and pressed his kiss against the thumping artery in her neck, littering jolts of lightning down her body as his fingertips raked over her shoulder, down her side, skimming the pillow of her breast and the washboard of her ribs to hold her waist as if he had ownership. A swirl of confusion nipped her. Men in her experience wanted one thing, which was fine with her because a moment’s intimate connection was all she wanted, too, but they usually weren’t affectionate, and while his touch felt protective, it also felt like affection.

Still, he’d sparked another flame, and her hands roving up his back, fisting his T-shirt—

He hissed and jumped a notch, his belly lifting off of her. She inhaled sharply at the sudden release of pressure, her diaphragm inflating.

“Shit, am I crushing you?” he exclaimed on a deep guttural exhale.

Of course her lungs triggered a cough to drive home the point that yes, he had been. Not like she’d planned on saying anything about it, though. Why mess with perfection?

He bounced up to his knees, knocking his head upon the culvert, wincing and muttering a curse as he reached up and rubbed the back of it. Which only made his iron bicep pop with each rub of his hand.

“Are you okay?” Heart asked.

Had he not wanted her touching his back?

“I should be asking you that,” he deflected.

He gripped her head, a serious furrow pulling his brows together and thinning his lips, turning her face in each direction, inspecting her cheeks, her neck, her arms, as if searching for casualties.

“I’m fine, thanks to you.” She grinned at his concern. His seriousness was kind of adorable. She furrowed her brow and cupped his cheek. Exhaled. His face was muddied with debris clinging to his stubbly shadow. “But who the hell are you and where did you come from, Ty the cowboy?”

He chuckled. Chuckled!

“You can chuckle?”

Satisfied, his callused fingers fell away from her and his mouth turned into her palm, planting a kiss there with such ease, it was as if he’d spent a lifetime doing so. My God, his chuckle was a glorious sound. It was a satisfying baritone rumble with a husky edge that put a crease in his cheek and softened his hard expression. And yet the sound tapered off, as did that little lady-slaying smirk that had ticked up the corner of his mouth. On his knees and haunches, her legs were still spread around his thighs in the shards of sunlight blinking through the debris that had blocked the other side of the culvert. His gaze was locked hard on her skirt, bunched around her waist. Basically staring at her underwear stretched on full display. For a split second, she bit her lip and let him look, her eyes dipping to his jeans, to the heavy bulge beneath his belt buckle and the teasing peek of muscly belly and treasure trail where his T rode up.

His broad palms settled on her knees, then began a slow migration, caressing up her thighs. Yeah, she wasn’t the only one who’d been fantasizing about survival sex—