Page 60 of The Wrong Ride Home (Wildflower Canyon #1)

elena

I came to Dallas after I talked to Duke.

He said he had to stay a few more days, tying up loose ends, but something in his voice didn’t sit right with me. Too flat, too hollow, like he was standing on the edge of something dark. So, I told Hunt to take care of the ranch, booked myself a flight, and showed up.

He was staying at The Crescent, an upscale hotel in Uptown Dallas.

With its polished marble floors that gleamed under the warm lighting, chandeliers dripping from the ceiling like they belonged in a European palace, and the scent of fresh-cut flowers hung in the air—this wasn’t my kinda joint.

But this was Duke’s. This was his world, I noted.

I didn’t fit in with the women here. Their hands were soft, untouched by calluses, their nails perfectly manicured.

They sure as hell weren’t wearing fifteen-dollar Levi’s they snagged off Amazon.

The difference between them and me was stark, obvious the moment I sat at the lobby bar, my duffle bag resting at my booted feet.

I ordered a whiskey and tried not to gawk at the price.

Thirty bucks for a damn shot? Who the hell paid that kind of money for something that burned going down the same way, no matter the price tag?

I texted Duke, wondering if he’d compare me to all the women here and wonder what the hell he was doing with me.

Me: Ah, I’m at your hotel in the lobby bar.

I sipped the whiskey and looked around. The men were in suits, the women were in suits or dresses—fuck me, Fiona Turner would blend in here. I felt like a bull at a ballet.

I looked at my phone: five minutes, no response.

I was about to try again when hands grasped my shoulders.

I turned and saw Duke. He was in his slacks, dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up, like he’d started to strip out of this life and then lost the energy to finish.

His face was unreadable at first—then it shifted—surprise, relief, something softer.

He pulled me off the stool, and in front of whoever the hell was around, he crushed my mouth with his, muttering, “Thank God you’re here. Thank fucking God!”

Okay, so I did the right thing, I thought as I let him in my mouth, heart, and soul.

He hugged me, and his lips brushed my ear. “Let’s go, baby, I need inside you. ”

It was like when we were kids, when he was desperate for me, and my ardor matched his.

He slung my duffle on his shoulder and wrapped an arm around my waist as he walked me through the bar where men in tailored suits drank bourbon from bottles that cost more than most people’s rent.

When we stepped into the elevator, Duke was on me again, kissing, biting… devouring .

“ Mi cielo ,” I murmured.

“Yeah?” His breathing was ragged. “Yeah? Am I, baby? Your everything.”

“Yes.”

His suite was a penthouse. Of course!

He led me into the bedroom, yanking my clothes out of the way. His hands were everywhere, rough, hard, exciting. He pushed me onto the bed when we were both naked and spread my thighs.

“I need a taste,” he growled.

He sucked my pussy lips into his mouth. The pleasure was excruciating. I raised my hips off the bed to press against his mouth.

He put his hands on my thighs, holding me still as his tongue dove round and round in pleasurable circles until he reached my clit.

My hands gripped his head when he began to suckle the small bud of nerves.

One of his fingers slid inside of me, making me shiver.

He pushed and twisted his fingers around while his mouth stayed firm on my clit.

He added another finger inside me and curled it upwards, dragging it along the slick walls of my core .

I began to cry out softly and thrashed my head. “ Mi cielo , now, now.”

“No,” he snapped. “I want more . You will give me more .”

A third finger entered me, and it was too much. I pushed hard against his head. He increased the pace of his fingers and mouth, making me squirm, making me buck, making me… come .

I exploded around him as waves of pleasure thrummed through me. He didn’t let up. When he raised his head, I was limp.

He climbed on top of me and let his cock glide over me.

“Condom,” I whimpered.

“No.”

My eyes focused on him. “Duke?”

“No. No .” He looked too far gone like he was only man, only body, only instinct. “Have my baby.”

That woke me past the orgasm real fast. I cupped his cheek.

“Duke?”

He entered me slowly, steadily, until he was fully planted inside of me. “If you have my baby, you’ll always be with me.” His eyes filled with tears. “Then you can’t leave me. Can you? I’ll be a good father, Elena, I promise. The best I can be. Just…don’t go.”

I had no idea what was going on with him, but something was. There was a darkness within him that he wanted surcease from, and I was his light .

“You’ll be an amazing father,” I said, making my decision. The truth? I’d made it a decade ago.

He began to saw back and forth between my thighs, his eyes on me. I felt my slickness coat him and leak out of me.

“Yes,” I moaned, intensely sensitive after my release.

He dropped his mouth to my breast and began to suckle my nipples. “I want to see these full of milk.”

My core tightened at his words. He pushed all the way in as he bottomed out and settled within me.

“Say you love me,” he demanded harshly.

“ Te amo, mi cielo .”

“Tell me you’ll never leave me.”

“Never. I’ll never leave you,” I promised, keeping my voice gentle as my body heated up again, wanting release, but this time with him.

He came inside me, the only man to do so, and I felt it like a tidal wave, not because of the physical sensation but the emotional awareness that we could be making a baby.

“I love you,” he whispered when he was spent, his face buried in my neck. “I love you so much. I can’t live without you. Don’t make me.”

Something was up, I thought. I made all the promises he demanded as I stroked his back, trying to soothe him.

After we took a shower where we made love again because he wanted to claim me —his words—we put on fluffy robes and sat on his couch.

The suite was enormous. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the glittering Dallas skyline. A bottle of whiskey sat half-empty on the table next to a glass he hadn’t bothered to use.

Everything about it screamed wealth, power, and control. Everything about him said he was losing his grip on all three.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” I asked gently, shaking my head when he lifted the whiskey bottle.

He set it back down, not pouring himself any either. I wasn’t sure how much drink he’d consumed in addition to the half-empty bottle, but since he was in full control of his faculties—as in he was able to walk, talk, and fuck—I assumed he wasn’t off-the-wall drunk.

A ghost of a smirk flickered across his lips, but it didn’t stick. “Why are you here?” His voice was quiet, rough.

“You didn’t sound right when we talked.”

“And you came?” There was wonder in his voice.

“Of course.”

“You love me?”

“Yes, Duke.” I shook my head. “You wanna tell me what’s up?”

He wearily ran a hand over his face. “I’m fine, Elena.”

“Bullshit.”

His jaw ticked. “Fiona was arrested.”

“I’m aware. Kaz let me know.”

“I should’ve called you.”

“It’s fine. You had to get through whatever this was, and it wasn’t easy from what I can see.”

“He tell you she admitted to everything? ”

I frowned. I didn’t give a flying fuck about Fiona. “Duke?—”

“When I sat in that restaurant with her, I realized how much like her I used to be.” He turned, his eyes reflecting pain. “If I hadn’t come home, if I hadn’t seen you, I would’ve become her .”

By her, I wasn’t sure if he meant Fiona or Gloria. But that didn’t matter because he’d never be either of them.

“No,” I said confidently. “You’d never become a cold-blooded killer.”

“Without you, I was someone else. I liked that man, Elena.”

“Sure, you did. That man didn’t get hurt.”

His eyes widened. I kissed his lips.

“I became the Ice Queen, had meaningless, emotionless sex, didn’t have relationships—I did all that because I didn’t want to get hurt. Since you’ve been back, I…laugh.” I smiled. “All the hands are razzing me about it.”

He relaxed at that.

“And you did come home, Duke. You came to Wildflower Canyon.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “After wasting a decade being a selfish son of a bitch.”

I reached for his hand, threading my fingers through his. He gripped me tight like he needed something to anchor him.

I looked up at him. “The past is done. We’re not who we were.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “You sure about that?”

I nodded. “Yeah. ”

I wasn’t that girl waiting in the barn for a boy who’d never come back. And he wasn’t that boy running from something he didn’t want to face. We’d both lost ourselves once, and now, we’d found our way back.

He groaned out a breath, and then, without saying a word, he pulled me into his arms.

He held me like I was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. I wrapped myself around him, pressing my cheek against his chest, listening to the steady, solid rhythm of his heart.

“No more fear,” I said to him and myself, too, I guess. I pulled away a little so I could see his face and gave him a teasing look. “When I got here and sat at that bar…and by the way, who the hell charges three sawbucks for a whiskey?”

He laughed at that. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

“That’s it. I’m not. I looked at all those women, and I thought Duke is used to that . He’s gonna take a look at me in my non-designer jeans and button down and let’s not even get into the boots situation, and he’s gonna think he’s lost his mind being with someone like me.”

His eyes narrowed. “You really believe that?”

I shrugged. “Yes and no. I know you love me, but I have insecurities, I have fears , just like you do. I think you’re going to look at my barely high-school graduate ass with your business degree from an Ivy League and think you can do better.”

“ Fuck no!”

“See,” I said triumphantly.

He nodded. “Yeah, baby, I see. And, if you can tolerate my over-educated ass, I think I can make it with your barely high-school graduate one.”

I thought about that for a moment and then said, “You know, I have an important question.”

“Yeah?” he asked seriously.

“Do you think my ass is too big?” I asked.

He burst out laughing.

I licked my lips. “Since we’re in this fancy hotel, I was wondering if we could have room service .” I dropped my voice. “I’ve never had room service.”

He chuckled.

“And after, can we use the jacuzzi? Never been in anything but a wooden tub with an immersion rod rigged together by some cowboys. I think the thing you have here has jets.”

The darkness fled from his eyes, and they filled with warm amusement instead. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, can we fuck in the tub?”

“Sure, why the hell not,” he said, feigning surrender, and just like that, the hollowness in his voice was gone, and the ache in my heart subsided.

My man was happy and safe—and I had done that.