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Authors: Kathie DeNosky

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BOOK: A Lawman in Her Stocking
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As Dylan’s mouth moved over hers, the apprehension that had built inside Brenna melted away and was quickly replaced with the sweet tension of renewed desire. His tongue plunged between her lips to explore her inner recesses and a kaleidoscope of shimmering light danced behind her closed eyes. His tongue teased hers and an empty ache began to pool in all of her secret places.

When he slid his hand back down her body to touch her intimately, every muscle in her body strained to be closer to him. He must have sensed her need, and parting her, he teased the tiny nub of her femininity with gentle, easy movements that heightened her excitement more than she’d ever dreamed possible. She’d never before experienced the intense sensations coursing through her, but when he dipped his finger inside her dewy moisture to stroke her, Brenna felt as if something inside her ignited and she was sure she would go up in flames.

Moaning her pleasure, she writhed against him as ribbons of desire twined into a deep coil of need in the pit of her stomach. “Please, Dylan—”

“Feel good?” he asked, his lips leisurely moving over her shoulder.

“Y-yes.”

Raising his head, his expression took her breath. “Brenna, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman in my life and I need to be inside you. Are you ready for that?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?” he asked as he continued to
heighten her passion by moving his finger within her. “I’ll do everything in my power not to hurt you, but this first time might not be as good for you as I’d like.”

She’d accepted the fact that there would be a certain amount of discomfort her first time with a man, but Dylan’s words chased away any hesitation she might have harbored. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Please, make love to me, Dylan.”

A groan rumbled up from deep in his chest, then kissing her briefly, he reached inside the drawer of the bedside table to remove a small foil packet. As she watched him arrange their protection, a tiny sliver of doubt returned to invade the sensual haze surrounding her. She’d never seen a man’s lower body other than in anatomy textbooks in college, but something told her that Dylan wasn’t a small man.

When she glanced up, he was watching her. “Your body was made to hold a man’s like you’re about to hold mine, darlin’.” He moved to gather her into his arms. “Just relax. We’re going to fit together just fine.”

His gentle kiss erased her uncertainty a moment before he parted her legs and moved over her. Holding her captive with his passionate gaze, he reached for her hand and together they guided him to her moist heat.

Brenna tensed involuntarily when she felt her body begin to stretch to accommodate his entry. But the mixture of tenderness and hungry desire in Dylan’s eyes, his gentle words of encouragement as he drew back, then carefully pressed forward, reassured her. His body continued the rhythmic movements and with
each slow, forward thrust she felt him slide more deeply inside her.

He soon met the resistance within her and she braced herself for the discomfort she knew would soon follow. But his steady gaze told her without words that everything would be all right a moment before he hugged her to him, covered her mouth with his, then pushed past the veil and completely sank himself inside her. Her breath caught momentarily at the shock of holding all of him, but he remained perfectly still and the discomfort quickly subsided.

She felt his taught muscles quiver when he propped himself on his forearms to gaze down at her and she could tell he was giving her time to adjust to his size and strength. “You’re so tight. I don’t want to hurt you. But I don’t think I can stand much more of this, darlin’.”

His face reflected the toll of his restraint and in that moment, Brenna knew she loved him with all of her heart and soul. Reaching up to touch his lean cheek, she whispered, “Please make love to me, Dylan.”

With a growl of satisfaction, he leaned forward to kiss the sensitive hollow of her throat at the same time he drew his hips back. Easing forward, he repeated the movement again and again, setting a slow steady pace. Very soon his movements renewed her passion and the coil inside her tightened to unbearable proportions. She sensed that she was on the verge of an awakening, a liberation from the tension gripping her as she moved in time with Dylan, but unsure of what was to come, she tensed.

Apparently sensing her readiness, as well as her confusion, he held her close. “Just let go, darlin’,”
he said, his voice rough with passion. “I’ll take care of you.”

Trusting Dylan as she’d never trusted anyone, Brenna gave in to the increased rhythm of his lovemaking and was immediately consumed by wave after wave of pleasure washing through her. A moment later, groaning her name, he thrust into her one final time, and she felt him join her in the realm of soul-shattering release.

 

When the last spasms of his climax subsided and his heartrate slowly returned to normal, Dylan moved to Brenna’s side and pulled her to him. Nothing in his past could compare to making love with the woman he held. He felt as if he’d died and gone to heaven.

“Are you all right, darlin’?” he asked, kissing the top of her head.

Snuggling against his chest, she nodded. “That was the most beautiful experience of my life.”

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He didn’t think it had been overly uncomfortable for her, but he needed to know.

“No.” She leaned back in his arms to gaze up at him. “Thank you for making my first time wonderful, Dylan.”

Her first time. The knowledge that she’d waited for him to be the first man she was intimate with made his chest swell and his gut burn with the need to be the last. The thought of Brenna in another man’s arms, sharing her body as she’d shared it with him, sent a shaft of deep need coursing through him to once again make her his.

Turning her to her back, Dylan kissed her closed eyes, the tip of her nose and her stubborn little chin. “I want you again, Brenna.”

Opening her eyes, her smile warmed him to the very depths of his being. “I want you, too.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, concerned that making love again so soon might cause her more discomfort.

Nodding her head, she brought her arms up to encircle his shoulders. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Make love to me again, Dylan.”

Eight

T
he next afternoon, after Dylan had dealt with the tree blocking the lane, he drove Brenna home. But instead of finding his antique truck parked in her drive, as he expected, there was no sign of the vintage Chevy. “I wonder where Pete is?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure Granny’s with him wherever he is,” Brenna said, laughing.

Her sweet smile, the light of having been well-loved in her pretty blue eyes, caused a tightness in his chest and had his body reacting in a very predictable way. Damned if the woman couldn’t make him hard by doing nothing more than looking at him.

Leaning over, he gave her a quick kiss, then opened the driver’s door. “Remind me to thank your grandmother for keeping Pete occupied.”

When he rounded the front of the Explorer to help
her from the truck, she smiled. “I think I should be the one thanking Pete for keeping Granny busy. You have no idea how challenging she can be at times.”

Taking her hand in his, Dylan walked to the door with Brenna. “Looks like they’re gone again,” he said, removing a piece of paper taped to the inside of the storm door. Scanning the contents of the note, he frowned. “Good advice, but I don’t know why they would bother taping it to the door.”

“Let me see.” She took the paper from him, then read it aloud. “The real key to safety is watching what’s under your feet. Step carefully kids.” Laughing, she shook her head. “My keys are under the step.”

“How do you know?” he asked, completely confused.

She bent down to reach beneath the wooden step, then straightening, held up a set of keys in a small plastic bag. “It’s a game we used to play when I was a child,” she said, fitting the key into the deadbolt on the door. “Pick out every third word.”

Following her into the house, he stood, reading the note while she walked into the kitchen. “Key…is…under…step. Well, I’ll be damned. You two have a very effective way of communicating without anyone knowing what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Dylan—”

Something in her tone made him glance up. Brenna stood in the doorway, her complexion a ghostly pale. Rushing over to her, he demanded, “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t believe it.” Her hand trembled as she
handed him another piece of paper. “They’ve used your truck to elope to Las Vegas.”

“They’ve done what?” Surely he hadn’t heard her right.

Dylan read the note, then shook his head. He thought it was great that his uncle Pete and Abigail had found happiness together in their golden years, but he wasn’t nearly so enthusiastic about them taking his vintage truck as their get-away vehicle. He unthinkingly uttered a word that, if his father had been alive, would have tanned his hide for saying in front of a lady.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

Apparently, Brenna was still too shocked to notice his less-than-polite language. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she said. She walked over to sink down on the couch. “Granny is actually getting married and I’m not going to be there to see it.”

“Oh, yes you are, darlin’,” he said, making a snap decision. He pulled her into his arms. “We’re going to follow them.”

She brightened. “We are?”

“Yep. You’ll get to see your grandmother get married, and I’ll get my truck back.”

“But they’ve gotten almost a full day’s head start on us.” She sounded doubtful.

“That’s true,” he admitted. “But if I know Pete, they’ll stop for the night in Albuquerque. He has a friend up that way and I’m betting they stay there tonight.” Dylan checked his watch. “If we take off within the next hour, we should catch up to them by midnight.”

“I left my car at the shop yesterday, but we could go by and get it for the trip,” Brenna offered.

Dylan nodded. “We’ll have to. I can’t take the Explorer for a personal trip.” He gave her a quick kiss, then set her away from him before he delayed their departure by taking her into the bedroom to make love to her for the rest of the day and night. “Now, go throw some things in a bag while I call Jason and fill him in on what’s going on.”

Once she’d trotted down the hall toward her bedroom, Dylan took a deep breath and dialed the sheriff’s office. He wasn’t happy that Pete had taken his truck. That antique Chevy was his pride and joy, and about the only thing Dylan had left that belonged to his father.

But he’d have to thank his uncle when they caught up to the elderly duo. By choosing to elope, Pete had handed Dylan the perfect excuse for spending more uninterrupted time with the most alluring woman he’d ever known as they drove the distance to Las Vegas.

 

“Granny, I still can’t understand why you couldn’t have gotten married back in Tranquillity,” Brenna said as she closed the door to the honeymoon suite behind them.

Tired from the long trip, she yawned as she and her grandmother walked down the long hall to the elevator. She and Dylan had caught up with the geriatric duo in Albuquerque late last night, just as he had predicted. Then, rising early to drive the rest of the distance to Las Vegas, they’d spent what was left of the afternoon shopping for something to wear to Pete and Abigail’s evening wedding.

“We chose Las Vegas because we wanted someone out of the ordinary to marry us,” Abigail said as they stepped onto the elevator. Straightening her cream-colored suit, her eyes twinkled merrily. “Can you think of a more radical way of getting married than having the King of Rock and Roll officiate the ceremony?”

Before Brenna could tell her grandmother that it was indeed unusual, the elevator doors swished open and there stood Dylan and Pete. Her pulse quickened and her breath caught. She hadn’t seen him since their shopping trip that afternoon when Abigail insisted that she and Brenna use the honeymoon suite to dress for the wedding, while Dylan and Pete changed in the room that Dylan had checked into.

She smoothed a nervous hand down the skirt of the dark green, midlength dress her grandmother had chosen for her as she watched Dylan walk toward her. She’d never seen him look more handsome in the dark blue western-cut sports jacket, powder blue shirt and black jeans he’d bought for the honor of being best man.

“Dylan is one hot dude, isn’t he?” her grandmother whispered.

“He sure is,” Brenna agreed before she could stop herself.

“You know, we could make this a double ceremony,” Abigail suggested.

“Granny, don’t start,” Brenna warned. But a warmth filled her at the thought of marrying Dylan.

“Ain’t those two the prettiest gals you’ve ever seen?” she heard Pete ask Dylan. Stepping forward, Pete tucked Abigail’s hand in the crook of his arm.
“Ready to get hitched up all good and proper, sugar?”

“I sure am, you old goat,” Abigail answered, her smile absolutely radiant.

Dylan’s gaze held Brenna’s captive as he stepped forward to take her hands in his. The appreciation in his brilliant green eyes sent heat coursing through her veins and caused her toes to curl inside her new pumps.

Bringing her hands to his lips, he brushed a kiss on her sensitive skin. “You look beautiful, darlin’.”

“Thank you,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt.

Before she could tell Dylan how good he looked, Pete cleared his throat. “Are you two gonna stand there lollygagin’ over one ’nother, or you goin’ with us?”

Dylan never took his eyes from hers and she felt as if she might drown in their depths as he tucked her to his side. “Lead the way, Uncle Pete. We’re right behind you.”

 

An hour later, Dylan helped Brenna from the back of the limousine in front of the hotel. He couldn’t believe how fast the wedding had taken place. They’d no sooner walked into the chapel that Pete and Abigail had chosen to exchange their vows, than an Elvis impersonator gyrated his way to the altar, asked the two seniors if they promised to “love each other tender” for the rest of their lives, then pronounced them man and wife.

“We want you two to come up to our suite for a
toast,” Abigail said as they all entered the hotel lobby.

Pete nodded. “We have a couple of things we need to talk about with you kids.”

“Of course, we’ll come up to your suite,” Brenna said. She turned to Dylan. “As best man, you should be the one doing the honors.”

Glancing at her, Dylan felt his lower body tighten. He’d never seen Brenna look more beautiful. From the moment she’d stepped off the elevator, he’d wanted to be alone with her, to slide that dark green dress from her delightful body and make love to her until they both needed resuscitation. And if the looks she’d given him throughout the evening were any indication, she was entertaining similar thoughts about him.

Wishing he could bypass the toast in favor of taking Brenna to his room, he lied, “There’s nothing that I’d like more than toasting your happiness.”

When they entered Pete and Abigail’s suite a few minutes later, an ice bucket of champagne sat chilling beside a table in front of the sliding patio doors leading out to the balcony. Two long-stemmed wine-glasses and a bowl of chocolate-coated strawberries sat waiting for the newly wedded couple’s celebration.

“You do the honors while I get a couple more glasses,” Pete said, handing Dylan the chilled bottle.

Popping the cork, he poured wine into the two crystal champagne flutes, then into the water glasses Pete had retrieved from the wet bar. Taking one of the water glasses, Dylan proposed a toast to the happiness and longevity of Pete and Abigail’s marriage. The
melodic ring of glass touching glass sealed the good wishes a moment before they all took a sip of the expensive champagne.

“Now, before we run you kids off to pursue your own good time, we have a confession to make,” Abigail said, looking smug.

“Yep, and a request, too,” Pete added as he reached for Abigail’s hand.

Brenna took another sip of champagne, then looked at Dylan. He knew she wondered what the pair were driving at; the same as he was.

“What is it you have to confess?” he asked, not sure he wanted to know.

He watched Pete and Abigail exchange a look, a moment before Abigail cleared her throat. “You two didn’t meet by accident. We set you up.”

“You set us up?” Brenna asked, placing her glass on the table.

“Pete and I met a couple of days after you and I moved to Tranquillity,” Abigail said, nodding. “Once we started talking about our families, it didn’t take us any time at all to know that the two of you would be perfect for each other.” She laughed. “And we’ve been arranging for you to spend time together ever since. We even took Dylan’s truck, instead of your car for this trip because Pete said Dylan would come after it, and I knew you’d come with him.”

“I’ve gone to the movie theater down in Alpine more in the last few weeks than I have in my whole life.” Looking at Abigail, Pete grinned. “But spendin’ all that time in the dark with Abby caused our matchmakin’ to backfire.”

“It serves the two of you right for trying to med
dle,” Brenna said good-naturedly. “You can keep my car for your honeymoon and I’ll ride back with Dylan.” She turned to face him. “If that’s all right with you?”

Dylan nodded as he watched her reach for a chocolate-covered strawberry. When she popped the morsel into her mouth, then licked the juice from her fingers, it took everything he had in him not to groan out loud.

“What was the request?” he asked, remembering the second reason the senior couple had wanted to talk to them. He braced himself. No telling what the pair had up their sleeves this time.

“With Christmas only a couple of weeks away, we ain’t gonna have time to find a place of our own until after the holidays,” Pete said, kissing the back of Abigail’s wrinkled hand. “We want you two to decide which one of you Abby and I are gonna live with until we move.”

“We don’t want you to decide right now,” Abigail quickly added. “Talk it over on your way back to Tranquillity, then when Pete and I return from our honeymoon you can let us know.”

Dylan glanced at Brenna, then back at the newlyweds. “I think it’s safe to say you’re welcome to stay with either one of us.”

“For as long as you want,” Brenna added, reaching for another chocolate-covered strawberry. When she bit into it, Dylan had to glance away. The more he watched her lick her fingers, the tighter his body became.

“When we get back to town next week you can let us know what you’ve decided,” Abigail said. She
smiled at Pete. “As long as we’re together, we don’t care where we stay.”

“Well, thanks for comin’ to the weddin’,” Pete said suddenly. “But it’s time for you kids to skedaddle.” He put his arm around Abigail. “Me and Abby ain’t gettin’ no younger and we got us a honeymoon to get started.”

Brenna’s cheeks turned beet-red and Dylan watched her down another strawberry before hugging her grandmother and his uncle Pete. “Congratulations. I’m very happy for both of you.”

Dylan added his good wishes to Brenna’s, then taking her by the hand, led her out into the hall and down the corridor. “Let’s go see what’s playing on the movie channels.”

He glanced down at her as they waited for the elevator. With her alabaster complexion and copper-colored hair, Brenna looked utterly stunning in that dark green dress. But as good as she looked in it, Dylan knew beyond a shadow of doubt that she’d look better out of it.

When they stepped into the empty elevator and the doors closed, he pulled her into his arms. “I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since I saw you in the lobby,” he said, brushing his lips over hers. “Do you know how beautiful you look tonight? How difficult it’s been to keep my hands to myself?”

The smile she gave him damned near knocked his boots off. “Probably as difficult as it’s been for me to keep my hands off you. Do you have any idea how yummy you look in black jeans and a sports coat?”

“Yummy?” He chuckled. “As yummy as chocolate-covered strawberries?”

She nodded. “Do you know why I kept eating those strawberries?”

“No.”

The smile she gave him lit the darkest corners of his soul. “It was the next best thing to having you.”

His blood surged through his veins and a spark ignited in his gut. “Darlin’, if you keep saying things like that, I won’t be held responsible for us missing whatever the movie channel is showing.”

BOOK: A Lawman in Her Stocking
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