Page 105 of One Night Only
DALLAS
As I stand in the arrivals terminal, staring at the door the passengers of the direct flight from New York are about to walk through, my foot taps anxiously. I have butterflies the size of bulldogs in my belly. It’s literally been two days since I last saw her in the flesh. Two days. But with the way my heart is racing, suddenly it’s as if it’s been two years.
When they open the doors to the gate and people start filing out, I’m forced to crane my neck to see over the throng of holiday travelers and the excited people here to greet them, my eyes peeled for my girl. And when I spot the cute blonde walking out, towing a carry-on wheely case with her, fully engaged in a conversation with an elderly couple, laughing at something the man says, I feel my chest tighten because, fuck… I love her so damn much.
I stand back, out of the way, just watching for a moment like a creeper. She’s dressed super casually in white sneakers, black yoga pants that show off her sexy thighs, and a jean jacket, with a big knitted scarf wrapped around her neck a few times, but she looks more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her.
The elderly couple Emily had been talking to say their goodbyes as they amble off to meet their family, and I watch as shelooks around, big honey eyes scanning the terminal, hopeful smile ghosting her lips. I step through a break in the crowd, and she spots me, her face lighting up.
I close the distance, wrapping my arms around her the moment I reach her, pulling her flush against me and squeezing tightly. Burying my face into her untamed mop of wild curls, I close my eyes and breathe her in, taking a moment and feeling every fiber in my body relax in her presence.
Emily lifts her chin, looking up at me, and I meet her eyes.
“Hey, Goldie,” I murmur, crashing my lips to hers.
She accepts my mouth, her lips parting just enough for me to slip my tongue in and savor her addictive taste. As the bustling terminal fades into nothingness around us, Emily melds into me, her hands gripping my jacket and pulling me closer, as if we can’t get close enough. She moans softly against my mouth, deepening the kiss, and I feel my dick twitch. I need her so bad. I don’t think a time will come that I’ll ever not need her.
“Dallas!” Emily gasps, suddenly jerking away, her eyes huge as they gape up at me before quickly looking around and taking a step back. “Public…” she hisses, as if she’s only just now realized we’re in a very public place.
I chuckle lowly, stepping up into her personal space again, hands grabbing her waist and forcing her back against me.
She looks at me like I’ve lost my damn mind, but I simply shake my head, flashing her a dimpled grin. “We’re fine here, baby,” I assure here. “No one here knows who I am. And, if they do, they don’t give a shit. This is football country.”
She relaxes some, but just a little, still looking around cautiously.
I drag the back of my knuckles down over her flushed cheeks, the pad of my thumb tracing the curve of her kiss-swollen lips, and she shudders, her long lashes fluttering at the touch.
“Come on, Goldie,” I murmur, moving in close and keeping my arm wrapped securely around her, my other hand taking hercase. “Let me take you home,” I say, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as I walk us toward the exit.
Outside, the night air is cool as we walk through the parking lot. But it’s a mild night. Nothing like New York. I stop at the truck and click the fob, the doors unlocking, and Emily glances from me to it and back again, one eyebrow arched a little higher.
“Rattlesnake Ranch.” She reads the logo from the side door of the RAM.
“Yes, ma’am.” I open the passenger door for her, holding out a hand to help her up.
“Very Texas.” She smirks, hoisting herself up into the cab.
“Baby, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” I smack her ass playfully and close the door when I know she’s secure.
Tossing her case into the back seat, I jog around the front of the truck and climb in, starting the engine. I glance at Emily sitting there in the passenger seat and smile to myself. But then I do a double take, my mouth falling open when I notice she’s removed her scarf, and fuck me. She’s wearing my fucking jersey under her jean jacket.
“You trying to kill me, Goldie?” I groan, abandoning the keys in the ignition and practically mauling her, pulling her over the center console and right into my lap. I run my hands up and down her sides, dragging the jersey up a little to catch a flash of her stomach, and reveling in the fact that she wore my fucking number on the damn plane. I bury my face into her tits, breathing her in.
“Dallas, we’re in an airport parking lot,” Emily whispers on a giggle.
“Tinted windows, baby,” I hiss, shifting my hips upwards so she can feel just how hard I am for her.
“I don’t think TSA cares if the windows are tinted or not,” she says on a breathy moan.
I growl because she has a point; the last thing we need it to be arrested by airport police for fucking in the parking lot in a Rattlesnake Ranch truck.
“Fine,” I relent, helping her back into her seat. “But you better believe I’m fucking you as soon as I get you alone.”
She bites down on her bottom lip, grinning deviously at me, and even through the muted light, I see the telltale flush heat her cheeks.
We barely make it out of Amarillo before Emily is fast asleep, her head lolling to the side before eventually coming to rest against the window. I don’t doubt she’s tired after working today and then having to fly out here, so I let her sleep, driving in complete silence with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on her thigh, smiling to myself the whole way, because even if she is snoring like an adorable little lawn mower, I’m so content right now.
Thirty minutes later, I turn off Country Road and into the ranch, the truck jostling a little as I ease over the cattle grid.
