Brianna's Sinful Cowboys [Casanova Cowboys 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Read online

She pressed her lips together, licking the dry seam before releasing a short breath. “I’ve had a few things come to light and I realize I don’t need the promotion. I don’t want the promotion if it means destroyin’ this town.” She laughed nervously, rubbing her temple with the back of her hand. She did everything to avoid looking at Rylan, the man who could breathe sexual life into her with mind-whirling potency. “It’s a nice place you’ve got here. I want people to enjoy it for what it offers, not to force luxury on a place where luxury is in everythin’ around you. That’s not what Ryder’s about.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  She detected the apprehension in his tone, the slight twist of confusion and maybe concern. Her nerves were fraying away to nothing with each passing minute. That arousal, the hunger that stretched from slumber in Rylan’s presence unfurled now, more powerful than ever.

  Brianna lifted the gift with a jerk of her hand, tilting the box so Rylan could see. She couldn’t stand still. She had a hard time looking him in the eye knowing her feelings for the man, embarrassed by the fact that she had agreed with Jackson to try and bring Rylan into their relationship, and was ultimately rejected.

  She lunged forward and placed the gift on Rylan’s desk, giving it a gentle shove across the blotter. Rylan looked at it then back up at her. His silence created more rattled nerves than she could bear.

  Folding her hands together, fingers wound painfully tight, she jutted her chin to the box. “Just a small somethin’. To thank you for everythin’ you’ve done for me.”

  She stepped back, ducking her head, eyeing the door and her escape. After tonight, she may never see Rylan again. It was evident he went out of his way to avoid her. She’d double up on the avoidance tactic until she and Jackson left.

  She turned to leave, managed to make it a few steps, and paused. Rylan’s gaze burned at her back, his silence damn near ripping her apart as she chewed her lower lip. She should forget what Carter had told her earlier. No point in opening those wounds again. She did what she needed to do. She told him she was no longer after his land, thanked him for saving her life, and gave him a small token of her appreciation.

  And yet…

  “I know I’m your thorn. A walkin’, talkin’, breathin’ reminder of Hailey’s death.” She dared to cast him a side glance and watched as his head turned away. “I found out today where her accident was.”

  Yes, she was a living taunt of the ghost who continued to haunt him. A tightness spread along her throat.

  “I’m sorry, Rylan,” she said quietly before leaving the office.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Time ceased with his very breath, silence all-consuming except for the thunderous beat of his heart. He nudged open the lid of the box only after Brianna left his office, and lifted a small square paper from the thin layer of filling. I thought you should have an angel to guide you wherever you go.

  Rylan pressed his lips together, tucking his finger in the corner of the box. He pulled the filling away. Lying on a black piece of foam was a beautiful glass angel, simple in its design but elegant and intricate in every facet.

  He hadn’t noticed the fine tremors that touched his fingers until he lifted the delicate sculpture from the box and rested it against his palm. The soft lamplight hit each cut of the figure, breathing a yellow-golden light into the clear glass. In the moments before he caught Brianna’s reflection in the window, he had been tearing himself apart over Hailey, Brianna, and Jackson. He hated himself for taking the cowardly way out of seeing both his best friend and the woman who filled his head.

  He had asked—no, begged—for some sign that he was about to make the right decision.

  Staring at this angel glowing like a beacon from beyond, he could only interpret Brianna’s gift as the sign he had been searching for.

  A split second changed his life nine months ago. A split second challenged to change it again a few weeks ago.

  “Hailey,” he whispered, folding his fingers around the angel. For the first time, when he closed his eyes, he saw Brianna’s beautiful face, her exotic blue-violet eyes that could ruin a man’s inner strength, her genuine smile that could melt the coldest of hearts. The shift in thought forced the breath from his lungs with such speed it left him weak. Her face, her smile, her voice. Everything embedded a silent promise of healing to his soul. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear Hailey urging him to follow his heart.

  A heart no longer dead, but beating fast and furious for the woman who had just left him.

  Rylan placed the angel in the box, dropped the cover over it, and bolted toward the door. Two weeks of fighting the pulsing desires, shoving them so far down into the pit of his mind he was certain they’d never find their way back to the surface, proved him terribly wrong. He caught Brianna’s dark figure hunched against the falling snow, making quick time to her car.

  Don’t let her go.

  Rylan threw the door open, crossed the deck, and barreled down the slippery stairs as the alarm disengaged on her rental, the yellow hazards flashing once.

  He was through fighting. Through dangling by his traditionalist ways. Through being a fucking fool.

  “Brianna.”

  Brianna paused, shoulders slumped, hands deep in her pockets, pulling her coat against her curvy figure. Rylan grabbed her arm, turning her to face him. The raw desire licking along his gut, against his cock, through his body, axed down everything in its way. To taste, to feel, to lose himself again. He cupped the side of her face, prowling up to her, meeting each of her steps back with one pressing into her. His fingertips tangled in her cool, silky hair, yanking out the pin to another floodgate of pent-up hunger.

  She stumbled back as he stepped into her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and brought her to the tips of her toes, flush to his frame. A short breath fled her lips, one that he thirsted to take as his own. Her fingers dug into his shoulder. Her breath plumed from her lips, the look in her eyes so stunned, potent and organic, pulling him in, down. Drownin’ and I want to keep fallin’.

  He tipped her chin, his body blazing hot, the throb in his cock torturous as he nestled it against her lower belly with a soft groan.

  “Brianna.”

  Rylan caved. His fingers curled against her scalp and tilted her head, and he took possession of her mouth. There was no gentle and tender. He was maddened, aching, starved for a woman, this woman. He drank in the flavors of her mouth, each full sweep of his tongue undoing him closer and closer to the core of his being.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck in a fierce embrace, the small whimpers and moans that fled her lungs filling his mind. She arched into his body, meeting each hungry stroke of his tongue with a demanding stroke of her own. He fed. She drank. The give and take intoxicated his senses. He held her tight, his hand splayed over her lower back, creeping lower to cup the fine globe of her ass.

  He spun her around and pinned her up against the side of his cruiser. The SUV rocked on its tires from the force of their bodies, drawing a gasp from her lips when they were torn apart. Her legs whipped around his waist, the items hooked onto his belt digging into his hips. He grabbed hold of her legs and ran his palms along the taut muscles of her thighs. She cupped his cheeks, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from the path of his hands. Feeling her, solid and warm beneath his palms, against his body, nothing else could take him from this moment, this revelation.

  Her back slid against the snow-sheened truck, that tormenting crease between her legs settling against his cock. He couldn’t breathe, his blood scalding his veins. His hands reached her hips and he dared to tease her jeaned pussy with his thumbs before slipping higher. He plucked open the buttons on her coat when the item resisted his exploration and, with the last button, flung the coat apart.

  His nostrils flared at the sight of her chest rising and falling in a rapid rhythm. The thin fabric of her shirt didn’t mask the peak of her erect nipples or the soft flush of her skin. Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet hers. White fla
kes clung to her thick lashes, brushed against her cheeks only to melt and leave a sexy sheen to her face. Snow added an ethereal contrast to her dark waves. Oh, to kiss and lick each delicate flake from the canvas that was her body.

  He would hold nothing back from this point.

  Curling a thick lock of her hair around his hand, he said low and gravelly, “You are not my thorn, Brianna.”

  He gave her hair a gentle tug, tilting her head before crushing another starved kiss to her awaiting mouth. She rolled her hips against his painful erection, a natural motion that left him grappling for self control. He coasted his hand along the curve of her breast before reaching up to her scarf. With a sharp yank, the soft fabric loosened from her throat.

  Brianna’s fingers dropped to the front of his uniform, working open the buttons at his collar. He growled, tearing his mouth from hers and kissing the fine structure of her jaw to the exposed column of warm flesh he’d freed from the scarf. She smelled like a potent mixture of sweet and sensual, warm and rustic. As he traced the pulsing vein along her neck with his tongue, the delicious flavor of her skin sent a tremor down to his feet.

  Rylan braced one hand against the windshield frame and rocked his caged dick against her. The muffled cry of pleasure the filled his ears cut one of the last remaining strings of control. He wanted her, wanted everything she came with, and he wanted her now.

  “Brianna.”

  “Yes, Rylan.” The desperate rake of her fingers down his partially undone shirt singed his nerves. “Yes.”

  He lifted his mouth from her throat, nuzzling the side of his face to hers, the sweet fragrance of her hair filling his nostrils.

  He peeled back his eyelids, and stared through the windows of his cruiser, an icy chill killing his arousal. Across the street in an abandoned lot, he caught a blue-white glow in the darkness.

  “Brianna, get down,” he said, the adrenaline of desire flipping to survival in a flash. He pushed her legs away from his waist and eased her to the ground below the windows.

  “Ry—”

  “Shh.”

  He grabbed up his gun and flashlight, locking his gaze on the shadowed vehicle. Despite the snow, he caught the obscured plume of air rising from the exhaust. Coming around the hood of his truck, he flicked on the flashlight, aiming the powerful beam directly at the vehicle.

  Headlights switched on. Rylan threw up his elbow to block the blinding beams, rounding his cruiser as the vehicle spun out onto the main road. The roar of the pickup’s engine vibrated through the ground and echoed in the night. Rylan sprinted across the parking lot, gun aimed, but the truck disappeared before he could get any plate number or model.

  Standing in the middle of the empty lot, he held down the button on his shoulder mic. “Kyle, if you’re headin’ back, be on the lookout for a dark pickup. Looks like a newer model. Get a plate number.”

  Rylan flipped his flashlight over and dropped it into the loop on his belt. He stalked back to his cruiser, his mind rolling. The bitterness at the back of his throat lent weight to his gut feeling. He had never put much weight on assumptions until now. His assumption was that he hadn’t run someone out of town like he thought.

  Static came over his radio, followed by Kyle’s response. “Keepin’ an eye out, Sheriff. Let you know if we see anythin’.”

  Brianna was on her feet when Rylan returned to the vehicles. Shock didn’t play nice with her prior heady expression. She pulled her coat closed, hugging her waist, her gaze darting between Rylan and the empty road.

  “Inside,” Rylan said. Brianna hurried to his side. He kept her on his right, arm wrapped around her shoulders, shielding her just in case someone was still watching from a distance.

  Once inside the station, Rylan dug out his cell from his breast pocket and dialed up Jackson. There wasn’t a way in hell he’d let Brianna leave him without surveillance. If he wasn’t working the night shift, he’d just as soon take her to his house.

  “Ah, I was waitin’ for—”

  “Get down here and take her back to Landon’s to finish the games. You’d better stay with her tonight,” Rylan said. He pushed open the half door and urged her back to his office.

  “What the hell happened?”

  Rylan paused in his doorway, keeping his eye on Brianna as she dropped into the chair alongside his desk. “I think we still have a pest in our neck of the woods.”

  Jackson groaned. “He’s gonna learn the hard way, ain’t he?”

  “He’ll learn one way or another, or he’ll end up on the wrong side of my barrel.”

  “Give me twenty. I’ll be down.”

  Rylan secured his gun and phone, and crossed the room to Brianna. She looked up at him, eyes that were so sultry and rapturous moments ago now filled with a fine line of fear. The interruption killed any residual arousal, and continued to work him into an aggravated knot. Had he not been on the verge of throwing her into his cruiser to explore everything he’d dreamed of over the past couple weeks, he would’ve noticed the truck. He would’ve caught the off air, that whispering hum of another’s energy where it didn’t belong.

  “What happened?” Brianna asked.

  Rylan crouched down in front of her, taking liberties he still wasn’t sure he had a right to take by resting his hands on her thighs. He absorbed the tension in her muscles that slowly ebbed away as he rubbed back and forth.

  “Don’t know, but I’m not takin’ chances with you. Jackson’s gonna stay with you tonight.”

  “You think that might’ve been Sean, don’t you.”

  Rylan shrugged. “Think, yeah. Know, no.”

  Brianna reached over to his shirt and started buttoning up what she had undone. He caught her hands, pressed a kiss to her fingertips, and shook his head. She scooted to the edge of the seat, twisting her hand to grab hold of his.

  “What happened tonight, Rylan? Between us?” she asked.

  “Everythin’ I’ve been fightin’ happened. Everythin’ that’s been beatin’ down walls to come out.”

  “For tonight.”

  He caught the implication behind her statement, but decided to ignore it. Instead, he glanced at the box on his desk. A small grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. It had been a long time since he’d experienced this lightness in his chest. A blossoming joy that he thought he’d never behold again flourished with more strength, more passion than he ever recalled in his lifetime.

  Lifting one of their entwined hands, he took her chin in a gentle pinch, the tip of his thumb tracing the firm line of her lip. “I think an angel found me.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Saturday night. One last night of finals. One last night of partying with Jackson’s friends and Rylan’s family. One last night of seeing the women who accepted her into their private circle selflessly and completely.

  Brianna took her time in the shower, her body tired from Jackson’s sightseeing and activity-packed day. Her muscles may be sore, but she loved every moment of exploring Ryder, from the cattle rounding to Travis’s horses, to helping Colette hang last minute decorations at the lodge.

  She smiled against the spray of water over her face. A weight she hadn’t realized she held had been lifted off her shoulders yesterday with her decision to drop her entire future at her feet. What should’ve caused her a dire panic attack actually left her with more confidence than ever. To hell with propriety and expectations. She’d been fighting to break free of everything her mother forced down her throat, and it had taken a stranger in a floral shop, a trick from her boyfriend, and a handsome sheriff to make her see she was going about it all wrong. From this point on, she was going to live her life the way she wanted to live it.

  Giddiness bubbled up from low in her gut. “Startin’ right here in Ryder with Jackson and Rylan.”

  Brianna finished her shower and dried herself, casting the towel aside before stepping into the room. She scanned the space, expecting to find Jackson waiting for her to emerge.

  “Jax?”
/>   A small white square of paper lying on the bed caught her attention. She picked it up and skimmed over Jackson’s neat handwriting.

  Honey,

  I had to stop at the house to pick up a few things for later. Follow the directions for the games tonight. I’ve left the keys to my truck. I’ll see you soon. Love you, Brianna. Oh, and do me one favor. Wear that sexy little black dress I’ve been waiting to see you in.

  Brianna quirked her lips, a gentle rush of anticipation filling her breasts, hardening her nipples, and stirring a warm delight in her core. She drew her fingertips over one hard nipple, the airy tease revving up her arousal. Closing her eyes, she brought back the memory of Rylan’s kiss, his skating caress along her legs and up her ribs and her breasts.

  A whisper of a moan pressed through her lips. Slick juice seeped along her pussy. She could still feel his cock pressed against her, and remembered how bad she wanted more.

  “I think an angel found me.”

  She opened her eyes and stared at the sexually charged image of herself in the mirror. “Amazin’ what a trauma can do to a person.”

  Trauma. Her gaze lowered along the flush of her chest down to her belly. The scars from the exploratory surgery had faded to pink lines on her belly. Four incisions, no longer bruised or prominent. Her forehead hosted a daily reminder of the accident in the form of a small scar. Her flesh had healed of all bruises, and the aching from her mildly injured spleen continued to subside every day. To her, they remained as raw and fresh as they had been the day she woke out of her sedation.

  A constant reminder that her life was saved by a stranger who captured her heart and changed her forever.

  Brianna pulled out the black dress Jackson requested she don, and the ankle-strap pumps from her wardrobe. She took her time with her hair, making sure each wave rested perfectly around her shoulders and framed her face. After adding a light dusting of makeup to her eyes, she slipped into her peacoat, wrapped a scarf around her neck, gathered up the note, keys, and purse, and headed downstairs.