Kaitlyn, friend of Ava. That was all we knew about the woman of our dreams.
That and the weight of her lush tits. The feel of her slick pussy lips. The tight clench of her inner muscles as she came. The sounds she made when she did so. I shifted, willing my dick to go down, but I had a feeling it wasn’t going to until I found Kaitlyn and had her in my bed for a few hours. Days, even. And that wasn’t even counting the times I’d claim her with Jed. Or when she’d be alone with him and I’d hear her scream with pleasure from down the hall.
She’d been right there with us, eager for it. Eager for more. Then, like a switch had been flipped, freaked out. I wanted to see her again, to talk to her, find the fuck out why she bolted like a scared rabbit.
Kaitlyn. Nothing else. Julia would be so proud. Jed and I had found a woman we were interested in and we’d scared the shit out of her. Blown it, somehow. As for Tucker and Gus, if they found out how she’d gone cold after we’d gotten her off, they’d mess with us about how we’d lost it with the ladies.
Raines was small. We’d find her. If she was from Raines. The crowd that had come to the all-male revue had been big enough for several counties. Shit.
No. We’d fucking find her. And when we did… we weren’t letting her get away that easily again because we wanted more than just to use our fingers on her. We wanted our dicks deep in her, of course, but we wanted a date. Dinner and a movie. Learning more about her than how she pushed her glasses up when she was nervous and the sounds she made when she was about to come.
Shit, I didn’t need to meet a potential client with a hard on. I groaned, tried to think of castrating bulls to get my dick to go down. We’d find Kaitlyn and date the shit out of her. Until then, I had a business to run.
As I walked up the concrete path, I took in the house. The house that Don Leary had lived in when he was alive.
Don Leary. Fuck, that name brought up so much shit. Being told, fifteen years ago at football practice, about the accident. My parents in the hospital for a month. The trial. The sentencing. Knowing the bastard who’d derailed our lives would get out of prison after seven years.
It didn’t matter now. My parents were fine and Don Leary was dead. I couldn’t say I was heartbroken over it. He’d been a waste of a man. Drunk, lazy. Mean. Yeah, he’d done his time for the crime he’d committed, but that didn’t mean I would ever forgive him. The one thing we Duke kids learned from the whole fucking mess—one of many—was drinking and driving. While Jed might own a bar, he, nor any of us, drank. Ever.
Knowing Don Fucking Leary wasn’t going to answer the door had my grip loosening on the clipboard. It wasn’t the new owner’s fault what Leary had done. The job though, fixing up this house, was going to stir up old shit, shit I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with. I wasn’t hurting for cash—starting a business when I’d quit the rodeo circuit and moved back to Raines wasn’t because I needed to save for retire
ment. I had more money than I needed. But, if I sat on my ass all day, I’d go insane.
But if I worked on this house, I might just do that anyway. Lose my fucking mind. I couldn’t stand looking at this place, or dredging up old shit as I worked, even when I had contractors to help. It would be a lot of work because this place was practically falling down on itself.
I owed the owner the courtesy of at least telling him in person I wasn’t able to take on the work. Refer a different company to get the work done. Don Leary was the asshole, not me.
As I knocked on the door, I took notice of the rotting boards on the porch, the peeling paint, the sagging windows. If fixed up, the house would be really great. I knew for a fact Don Leary had had no money, and the way he’d taken care of his house proved that. Or, he’d drank it all away.
The door swung open with a rusty creak. And there she was. I grinned and everything felt right in the world.
“Kaitlyn. Fuck, are you okay? You scared the shit out of us last night.”
I stepped close and cupped her jaw, tilted her head up so she looked at me.
Her eyes were wide behind her glasses, mouth open.
I took the moment of surprise to lean down and kiss her.
Fuck, yes. Her soft scent swirled around us and she tasted like minty toothpaste and sweet Kaitlyn.
“Landon,” she murmured against my mouth.
“I know, angel.” I was lost in her. In this. My other head, the one pressing painfully against my jeans, took over.
“No, Landon, god,” she murmured as I kissed along her jaw. Her hands were on my chest, curled into my shirt, but I realized she was trying to push me back.
She’d said no. Instantly, I stepped back, looked down at her.
While her breathing was as ragged as mine and her lips were glistening and red from the kiss, all color had drained from her face. She stared at me, wide-eyed, from behind glasses. Not the look I was hoping for with her. “Landon. What are you doing here?”
I couldn’t resist touching her, feeling how soft her skin was, so I ran my knuckles down her cheek.
She flinched and I dropped my hand back to my side. Not the reaction I wanted.
“I own Compass Construction. You called for an estimate. Jesus, what’s the matter? What happened last night? Are you sick or something?”
I took in every detail of her, things I’d missed in the darkness the night before. Freckles. A tiny mole on her neck just beneath her ear. The whiskey color of her eyes. And her hair sure-as-fuck hadn’t been down and wild like it was now. It was long and I wanted to run the tips of my fingers through it, fist it.