Chapter 14
Rhylan
I never imagined Dakota running to me, fighting her way through a crowd where she was all I could see, but for whatever reason… this worked, and I had no intention of letting her out of my grasp.
If she hadn’t approached the bar by choice, I would’ve sought her out myself, throwing that beautiful, perky ass over my shoulder and carrying my Wildcat to the private lounge.
I didn’t need to play this game, but now that she was here, I guess things were about to get a little more exciting for both of us.
Blowtorches was a game we came up with when a few of the Cowboys needed an excuse to play their twisted version of The Bachelor.
We all wore the same attire while working; however, our buckles defined our relationship status, each bearing the Kerosene emblem at the center.
Handcrafted and forged by a local silversmith, the standard four-inch bronze design was worn by all the single cowboys, the ones with no intent of marrying.
The five-inch silver was reserved for the bachelors actively seeking out wives; the buckle I was wearing tonight.
And the six-inch gold with diamond-embellished accents represented the cowboys who were off-limits, married; their buckle-branded wearing the same.
The larger buckle catches attention, representing a prize worth winning or already won. However, there were no losers here. Even the single Cowboys deserved to have a little fun of their own at the end of their shift. Or in the middle.
“I’ve never played this game...” Dakota’s voice was soft, her hand around my waist, tightening its hold as she peered over her shoulder to see the last woman being lifted onto the bar.
She was adorable when nervous, a side of her that searched for protection instead of one that was ready to rip your head off. Something she didn’t allow any man to see unless she trusted them. She was trusting me.
“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll walk you through the steps; it’s not that complicated. Although I do hope you like the taste of cinnamon.”
The game was easy; we slipped a test tube of fireball into the fly of our jeans and set it on fire.
But, since the alcohol alone wouldn’t light due to its low proof, a small amount of Everclear was floated on top, making it flammable.
The goal for the women was to blow out the flames and take the shot. Simple as that.
Placing a hand on the side of Dakota’s neck, I pressed my lips against her ear once more as my fingers threaded through her soft strands.
“I’m gonna need you on your knees for me, Wildcat. Hands behind your back and head tilted with that pretty mouth where I can see it.”
“Rhylan—” Her breath caught, and I eagerly pressed our foreheads together, our eyes locked in this moment. Hearing my name pass those lips had me hard. Oh, how I’ve fucking wanted her to say it; scream it.
“Blow, swallow, and let me take you home.” I wasn’t about to take things slow with Dakota. I wanted her wearing my shirt, my scent, my ring; and nothing, absolutely fucking nothing was going to prevent that from happening.
Time came to a halt as Dakota stared at me, the noise of the bar fading into a soft hum in the background. She had a choice, and I wanted—needed—her to choose me. I was a man desperate for nothing and no one but her.
“Fuck it.” Her words were spoken so breathlessly that I could barely make out what was said as she lowered herself down to the bar; eyes never leaving mine, while my hand cradled the nape of her neck.
My heart began to race, pounding behind my ribs; a rush sweeping over me that I barely managed to contain—
“Rhy, grab your fuckin’ shot already, you’re holdin’ up the line!” Silas shouted from below, and I snapped out of my lust-drunk haze, immediately reaching for the test tube and match he’d lifted up toward me.
Dakota’s eyes were attentively following my hands as they guided the test tube into my jeans, careful not to disturb the layer of Everclear. Once the tube was secured, I struck the match, igniting the liquid, and Trent led the crowd in a drawn-out countdown.
When they reached one, Dakota blew out the flames before wrapping her lips around the rim. She pulled out the glass before tipping back the shot; her throat bobbing as she downed its contents in a single breath.
Well, mercy fucking me… My mind was racing at the sight and the thought of something else I’d love to see her swallow.
Dakota returned to standing, removing the tube from her mouth before licking her lips, eyes now fixated on mine. She didn’t need to utter a single word; those vibrant greens of hers spoke volumes as they shimmered under the lighting.
Parting my lips to speak, I was interrupted as Dakota reached up and removed my hat with the same smooth motion as the night we’d met. She then placed it on her head, tilting it to the side while biting her bottom lip, a devilish grin pulling at the corner.
“Dakota. Now, let’s see where this ride takes us, Cowboy.” Say fucking less…
I scooped up my girl like the bride she would become and hauled ass out of the bar, heading straight for my blacked-out Tacoma TRD Pro parked in the back.
Sweeping Dakota off her feet had been far easier than I’d thought.
I’ll owe Trent a bottle of Blanton’s come sunrise.