Brianna's Sinful Cowboys [Casanova Cowboys 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 17

  Miss Bess looked up from the foyer table and graced her with one of her signature friendly smiles. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweater instead of her hallmark darker colors.

  “Hello, dearie. Don’t you look pretty tonight. Jackie takin’ you out somewhere special before the finals?” Miss Bess asked.

  Brianna shrugged, hooking her purse on her forearm. “Not sure. He told me to dress up for the games tonight.”

  “That boy’s always had mischief on his person at any given minute.” Miss Bess laughed, the airy music of her laughter further lifting Brianna’s elated spirits. She waved her hand to the door. “Don’t let me keep you. Don’t want Jackie mad at lil’ ol’ me.”

  Brianna smiled, folding her hands in front of her stomach. “He’d have to get through me before I’d let him get mad at you.”

  Miss Bess rubbed her shoulder as she walked by, heading toward the kitchen. “Sweet thing, you are.”

  Brianna made it to the door before she turned. “Miss Bess?”

  “Yes, dearie?”

  “Do you know how far Sheridan Drive is?”

  “Sheridan?” Miss Bess’s smile dipped slightly. “What number?”

  “Fourteen.” Brianna dug Jackson’s letter out of her purse, observing the woman’s curiosity. “Jackson gave me directions to whoever’s havin’ the party tonight, I’m assumin’?”

  Miss Bess arched one brow and nodded slowly. “Assume, sure.” Her smile returned, but this time, a shadow entwined. “About ten minutes. Pretty straight to get to.”

  Brianna narrowed her eyes, folding the note in half. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Jackson ain’t the only one who befriends mischief.”

  “Have a good night, dearie.” Miss Bess snickered and shook her head as she turned and disappeared down the hallway. Brianna’s brow pinched. How strange. Miss Bess’s reaction wasn’t what she had grown to expect. In fact, she didn’t know how to interpret the woman. With a small chuckle, she left the bed-and-breakfast, observing the amply lit drive for any signs of Sean, and hopped into Jackson’s truck.

  Brianna missed the road on the first pass and nearly took out a mailbox while turning around, but she eventually found herself creeping along the dark road marked with occasional streetlights. She rode past the first five houses in succession, noting the lack of odd numbers. After ten, the road stretched on for about a mile before coming to a mailbox with a number twelve. The white cape of land stretched far and deep into the night. Tall, bare trees served as the only barrier between the smaller homes and properties at the head of the street. In the distance, she made out the silhouette of large, looming structures. A large farmhouse sat at the forefront of the property, multicolored lights twinkling beneath the inches of snow Ryder had received overnight. As she rolled by, she saw a large lighted tree through one of the ground-floor windows.

  Wringing the steering wheel of the large truck, she brought her attention back to the dark road, highlighted only by the subtle glow of snow. The roads of the town had been plowed out, but the dirt and gravel roads were still hazardous. She drove on, for minutes it seemed.

  At last, in the distance, she spotted another house. Dim light illuminated the curtained windows of the two-story home. No lights decorated the exterior. Brianna chewed her lower lip, guiding the beastly truck up the hill, confirming the number on the mailbox matched the number in her letter, and proceeded down the long, sloping driveway. It circled the side of the house, but she came to a stop beside another large pickup at the front and cut the engine.

  Brianna stared at the beautiful house, gauging the lack of decoration. Something didn’t sit right with her—the lack of vehicles compared to the last few houses Jackson’s taken her to, for starters—but she gathered her purse and slid out of the truck anyhow. She pulled her phone from her purse and tried to call Jackson, but it went to voice mail. Stepping carefully along the shoveled walkway, she texted Jackson of her arrival when her heel slipped.

  “Shit,” she gasped, arms flailing. She stumbled forward, caught her balance, and steadied herself before shuffling the rest of the way to the covered porch. Holding to the wooden railing, she climbed the frozen steps. Her frenzied heart left her weak after the jolt of adrenaline, and every muscle in her body was strung tight until she reached the welcome mat at the front door. “Well, here goes.”

  Brianna pressed the doorbell and folded her hands together. The silence of the night encompassed her out in this isolated place. With each second that passed, she began to doubt the directions, wondering if she misread the street name or the number on the mailbox. After a full minute, she rang the bell again. She couldn’t hear anything from inside. No talk, no laughter, nothing. Not what I’d expect from a group of partiers. With a groan, Brianna leaned back, trying to see through the curtained window.

  The door pulled open. Brianna plastered a smile to her face and turned to greet…

  Oh my.

  She blinked once, twice. Her smile faded, but her blood kicked up the temperature and the pace in her veins. For a long moment, she stared at the bare chest belonging to the man who leaned against the front door and kept her out with an arm braced against the doorframe. She closed her mouth and cleared her throat, her face seething as she finally tore her gaze away from the sinfully cut and chiseled body to meet a set of hawk eyes.

  “Brianna. Surprise seein’ you at my door,” Rylan greeted, his rich, smooth voice filling more than just her ears. His expression remained unmoving, giving little away as to what was going on in his head.

  “I, uh, I…” Brianna rubbed her forehead, hoping some of the red would disappear as quickly as she wanted to run and hide. She looked around the porch, struggling to put words together. At last, she pulled the letter from her purse, shook it out, and handed it to Rylan. “Jackson told me he’d meet me here for the games.”

  Rylan gave her a slow once-over before he glanced at the paper clutched in her hand. He took it with a casualness that ramped up her nerves even more. She knew Jackson was mischief in the form of a handsome man, but to send her to Rylan’s house for a party that—she stole another look at the hard cuts of his chest and the jagged black tattoo that encircled his left biceps. Sweet heaven—hadn’t quite started.

  Keeping from licking her lips in obvious delight, she took the opportunity while Rylan was distracted with the note to take a nice long look at the damp strands of dark hair that fell over his eyes and brushed the nape of his neck.

  All of that hid beneath a bulletproof vest, uniform shirts, and thermal sweaters?

  She nudged her gaze lower, back over his hard-cut pecs and down the impressive display of abs, and came to a pause where the waist of his loose jogging pants hung provocatively low on his narrow hips. The hollows of his hips and the hint of dark hairs at the waistband threatened to turn her into a swooning fool.

  Daaaamn.

  “Games?” Rylan asked. She snapped her head up, eyes widening in wake of being caught in her perusal. He gave no indication of having noticed, but she knew damn well this man was all too aware of her attention to his details. “Didn’t realize I was hostin’ the party tonight. Shame, I’ve got nothin’ to offer my guests.”

  “Jackson apparently got his houses mixed up. This was obviously a mistake,” Brianna finally said, her voice thick with the increasing desires that ignited a full-blown throb in her clit. She clenched her pussy muscles, willing her libido to put on the brakes, and stepped back. “Sorry.”

  “Brianna.”

  Anxiety bubbled in her stomach. She and Rylan might have shared a quick pass the night before, but he was far from receptive tonight. God no. He was downright predatory. She clung to her coat, fingers cinching the wool at her hips.

  He pulled the door open and stepped aside. “Come in.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Every last ounce of willpower poured into his refusal to look over the woman standing on his front porch. The last person he expected to come knocking on his door was Brianna
. Here she was, looking so damn gorgeous in those heels and that black skirt. Blood rushed along his body, pooling in his cock, his balls, and left him momentarily dizzy. No degree of cold Kansas air could stave off the inferno scorching his insides.

  Brianna stared at him, her uncertainty written plain as day on her face. He felt her anxiety thrumming along the air, sensed her desires as if he drank them directly from the source. Jackson set them up, both of them, for this very encounter. A motion to seal a fate between the three of them.

  Jackson, you devious bastard.

  He’d just received a text from his friend telling him he was stopping over. Well, he’d forgotten to mention the plan of sending this beckoning siren his way, making his cock hard and his mouth crave what he had indulged not twenty-four hours ago.

  When Brianna’s hesitation stretched, Rylan opened the door as far as he could and spread his arm, letter still in hand, toward the warm interior of his home.

  Brianna accepted his invitation, head ducked as she walked by. A faint sweetness hit his nostrils. His jaw tightened as he closed the door behind her. She had her phone in hand, fingers rushing across the touch screen as he sidled by her and grabbed up his beer bottle from the foyer table.

  “Thank you. I won’t stay long,” Brianna murmured. Despite her timid assurances, her attention to his back seethed a very delightful path from shoulders to waist. He grinned to himself, not wishing to share the satisfaction with the woman whose sexy heels clicked across the wood floor as she followed him to the kitchen. “Jackson isn’t answerin’ his phone.”

  “He’ll be here at some point,” Rylan said. Ah yes, his dear friend definitely laid out a slick plan. “Tell me somethin’, Brianna. If you’d known this was my place before I answered, would I have found you on my doorstep?”

  Rylan didn’t miss a step, even as the shuffle at his back announced that his blatant inquiry had caught Brianna off guard. He snickered under his breath and took another drink from his bottle, continuing into the kitchen and to the fridge.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” he answered, pulling open the door.

  “Good chance you might’ve.”

  He paused then proceeded to pull out a cold brew, pop the top, and turn to Brianna. Her eyes had turned a gorgeous smoldering violet blue. Those glossy lips challenged him to come, taste, claim. A sexy rose hued her cheeks.

  “You’re off meds now, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Beer?” Rylan held out the new bottle. She took it with a quiet thank you. “Jackson knows the last night of finals is always celebrated at Colt’s place.” He pointed toward the doorway off the short hallway adjacent to the kitchen. Brianna stepped up alongside him and he led her into the living room. “Tradition.”

  “I should’ve known somethin’ was up,” she said, casting him a coy smile as she came around the sectional.

  Rylan made it a point to look her over again, his eyes narrowing as he slid down the length of her stocking-covered lithe legs and came to her heels. “You’re not dressed for a night at the proverbial rodeo, sweetheart.”

  She rolled her eyes accompanied by an exasperated sigh. “Another flag I should’ve caught.”

  He took a slow drink from his bottle, enjoying Brianna’s flushed face and the cute way she fidgeted when she was nervous. He wondered if she would be just as nervous if he took her upstairs and tossed her down on his bed to finish what they started last night.

  Those sinful images had consumed him the entire damn day. She picked a dangerous night to come knocking at his door.

  “Let me take your coat.”

  Her eyes shadowed over, darkening as she worked the scarf from her neck and unfastened the line of buttons down her figure-formed coat. God help him, her slow, deliberate moves drew his attention away from her face, along the opening path of the coat. His throat tightened. She revealed the black dress hugging her narrow waist and full breasts. The skirt flared at her hips and flowed low on her thighs. A simple diamond pendant nestled at the peak of her cleavage. Her long black waves caressed the generous swells of her breasts as she slipped the coat off her arms.

  Rylan swallowed the knot in his throat and took the coat from Brianna. He laid it over the arm of the sofa. Her scent filled his lungs and left him aching after each inhalation. He turned back in time to see her take a sip from her long neck, and couldn’t help but relish in the way her lips formed around the bottle and her cheeks hollowed as she drank.

  “Take a seat. Make yourself comfortable,” Rylan invited. Her gaze lowered to his erection, a shaded smirk forming along the seam of her lips as she drew the bottle away from her mouth. “Woman, you like pushin’ boundaries.”

  Brianna settled on the sofa and crossed her legs. “I like pushin’ yours, apparently.”

  Rylan chuckled with a quirk of his brow, and took the seat beside her. “Is that a challenge, Miss Cabot?”

  “I don’t know. Are you lookin’ for a challenge, Sheriff?”

  He lowered his gaze to the generous swell of her breasts. Her nipples pressed against the fabric of her dress, two round pebbles he would enjoy pinching and nibbling.

  Drawing a pointed line back to her eyes, a slow grin came over his mouth. “Do you find the idea of belongin’ to two men…desirable?” His gaze fell to the soft flesh of her leg as the hem of her dress slid hipward. Heaven help me.

  “Do you find sharin’ one woman with your best friend desirable?”

  If she only knew how damn sexy she looked, gauging him through those thick waves that brushed her cheek, she might choose to step cautiously around him at the moment.

  “A question for a question. Tryin’ to figure out how to approach the topic based on my opinion?”

  “No. I know my answers, but I’ve been told you’re a traditionalist.” Keeping her back against the sofa, she shifted closer to him and said, “I was, too. And then I met you and all of that went out the window.”

  “And Jackson?”

  Brianna laughed, the sound so sexual and husky. “You know Jax better than me, right? I have never doubted my feelin’s for him. I love him, but…” She pressed a single finger to her chest at the apex of her cleavage. Despite the smile that gave her lips a forbidden edge, her soul was bared to him in her eyes, wedging a hook into his heart and reeling him in. “You’ve done somethin’ in here that I can’t ignore. I won’t ignore.”

  Rylan reached over and fitted his palm along her delicate jaw. He traced her bottom lip with his thumb. The simple gesture of touch with this woman spoke to him far deeper than he could’ve ever imagined. He had loved Hailey, had believed no one would ever hold a light to what she had created in his heart.

  Every belief he held crumbled the morning he left the cemetery and came upon an unfortunate driver. This driver. The woman sitting right here with him, open and receptive to anything and everything he might say or do.

  “I don’t expect you to understand, or even feel remotely the same. I understand what I must cause you,” Brianna said. She tilted her head, his hand slipping along her cheek.

  “No,” he murmured. “You don’t.”

  Her lashes fluttered, her eyelids settling low. She painted sensuality like no other.

  “I couldn’t let you go that mornin’, Brianna. I made calls I would never make if my job depended on it. I could’ve done so much more damage to you than leavin’ that car on its side and waitin’ for Rescue to cut you free. I braced you in the seat and held you until Rescue arrived, the whole time doubtin’ my decision and kickin’ myself in the ass for makin’ that call.”

  Whether it was instinctive or deliberate, he caught Brianna press her palm to her belly. Rylan pulled his hand away and stole a long drink from his bottle, shading his watchful eyes as her fingers traced invisible lines against the dress.

  “I never go with Rescue to the hospital. I never ride in the ambulance with EMT. All of that changed with you. I stayed while you were in surgery until I was called back to the office. I returned to t
he hospital that evenin’ because I had to know if I fucked up havin’ righted that car. I had to know you were well. I stood outside your room, speakin’ with the nurse, wonderin’ why you had survived Crosslane and Hailey hadn’t. I tried so hard to build up that resentment, but when I stepped up to your bed and looked down at you, I couldn’t resent seein’ you alive. A beautiful woman, the first to stir somethin’ inside me that I swore was buried with Hailey in March.”

  “Rylan.” Brianna’s hand came up and rested over his. “You don’t have to say anythin’ to soften any truths. I can only imagine what seein’ me does to you, now that I know the connection I have with her.”

  Rylan snorted, shaking his head. “I ain’t sayin’ a thing to make you feel better. That ain’t my style.” He shifted to the edge of the sofa. “I’m a matter-of-fact and tell-it-how-it-is sheriff, sweetheart.”

  “Good, ’cause as nerve-wrackin’ as that can be, I think I like that most about you.”

  Rylan chuckled under his breath and climbed off the sofa. Baby, you don’t know nerve-wracking. Yet. He swung his empty beer bottle between his thumb and forefinger as he headed back to the kitchen. “How’re you doin’ on your drink?”

  “I think I’ll be fine with one right now.”

  Rylan dropped his bottle in the recycling container and passed on another round. He’d had enough for the night, and much rather preferred enjoying Brianna’s company than forgetting what transpired.

  He returned to the living room, this time through the entrance by the front door. He paused for a long moment in the doorway, and watched the woman on his sofa. She was looking for him, playing with her dress and taking small sips from her beer. Her hair bunched up against the sofa back, the shine of her dark strands begging him to tangle his fingers up and give them a sharp tug.

  Instinctively, Rylan flexed his fingers at his side. Muscle after muscle loosened up his arm. Brianna leaned forward, craning her neck to see the doorway to the kitchen. Rylan eased up to the sofa and perched his hip on the back, startling his angel.