Dare to be Dirty (The Dirty Girls Book Club #2) by Savanna Fox Page B
Authors: Savanna Fox
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guy?”
Kim frowned again. “Okay, then maybe it’s about valuing yourself. Not giving yourself to anyone who comes along.”
“Hey, not just anyone. Did you hear me say ‘hot guy’?” Marielle tilted her head. “You think Marty Westerbrook disrespected herself by having sex with Dirk?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You think I’m disrespecting myself by having sex with Blake? Or you’d be disrespecting yourself if you’d done more than just dance with Ty?”
That was how she’d felt when she studied her debauched reflection in the motel room mirror. But, hmm . . . She took a long drink of cranberry and soda. It was complicated, sorting this stuff out. “I don’t think you’re disrespecting yourself, Marielle. You have such a strong sense of yourself and so much confidence, and you know what you want. But what you want is temporary, and what I want is permanent.” And that was why she felt so much shame and guilt.
“How about Marty?” George asked. “Do you think she was wrong to have sex with Dirk, given that—” She broke off. “Sorry, I forgot you haven’t read past the sex scene.”
“Right,” Lily said. “We can carry on the discussion next week, when we’ve all read the next section.” She raised her eyebrows in Kim’s direction. “That’s not going to be a problem for you, is it?”
Of course it would. It would make her think of Ty. But, to be realistic, she’d think of him anyhow. And she didn’t want to drop out of book club. This afternoon had reinforced how much she liked these women, and the way they challenged her. “No problem.”
* * *
A lone in his bedroom at Ronan Ranch on Thursday night, Ty gingerly touched the silky winged top with one rough finger. He’d done that a lot since he’d woken Sunday morning to find that Kim had gone. No note, no phone number. She hadn’t even told him her last name. But she’d left the top. Intentionally, as some message that he was too stupid to get? Or had he been lying on it, and she couldn’t pull it free?
Why had she left? They’d had incredible sex. She’d been into it; she’d liked it.
Could she be married? She hadn’t worn a ring, but he’d known women to take off their wedding rings and hook up with a rodeo cowboy.
He shouldn’t waste time thinking about Kim. She’d been a one-nighter, great sex to break his dry spell. He should find a woman with long-term potential. He was nearing thirty. Ronan Ranch was getting established. This was the right time to marry, and then think about a family.
He needed a ranch wife, a woman like his grandma and his mom. An equal partner who’d share in the hard work and love the country lifestyle. No point wasting his time with a dragonfly art student from Hong Kong.
But man, Kim was something. She was different, unpredictable, exciting. Passionate. Oh hell, he wanted to see her again. Or at least find out why she’d skipped out and ended one damned fantastic night.
Kim from Hong Kong, an art student at Emily Carr who designed clothes and was into butterflies. How hard could it be to track her down?
He sat in front of his computer, and in less than a minute, he was looking at her Facebook page. The art was a vibrant abstract design that looked like wings. In her picture, she had orange streaks in her black hair. That hair looked kind of spiky, but when he touched it, it had been soft as silk. Soft as feathers.
Maybe she really did have wings. Maybe she’d flown away, not driven.
Ty wasn’t a fast typist—his hands were too big—but he clicked out the letters deliberately.
Why the hell did you run and when the hell am I going to see you again?
He studied the blunt words. Yup, that pretty much said what needed to be said. He added his e-mail address and phone number, and sent the message off to her.
And now it was bedtime. If the past nights were any example, his sleep would be filled with sex dreams of Kim, and he’d wake with a hard-on as rigid as a fence
Kim frowned again. “Okay, then maybe it’s about valuing yourself. Not giving yourself to anyone who comes along.”
“Hey, not just anyone. Did you hear me say ‘hot guy’?” Marielle tilted her head. “You think Marty Westerbrook disrespected herself by having sex with Dirk?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You think I’m disrespecting myself by having sex with Blake? Or you’d be disrespecting yourself if you’d done more than just dance with Ty?”
That was how she’d felt when she studied her debauched reflection in the motel room mirror. But, hmm . . . She took a long drink of cranberry and soda. It was complicated, sorting this stuff out. “I don’t think you’re disrespecting yourself, Marielle. You have such a strong sense of yourself and so much confidence, and you know what you want. But what you want is temporary, and what I want is permanent.” And that was why she felt so much shame and guilt.
“How about Marty?” George asked. “Do you think she was wrong to have sex with Dirk, given that—” She broke off. “Sorry, I forgot you haven’t read past the sex scene.”
“Right,” Lily said. “We can carry on the discussion next week, when we’ve all read the next section.” She raised her eyebrows in Kim’s direction. “That’s not going to be a problem for you, is it?”
Of course it would. It would make her think of Ty. But, to be realistic, she’d think of him anyhow. And she didn’t want to drop out of book club. This afternoon had reinforced how much she liked these women, and the way they challenged her. “No problem.”
* * *
A lone in his bedroom at Ronan Ranch on Thursday night, Ty gingerly touched the silky winged top with one rough finger. He’d done that a lot since he’d woken Sunday morning to find that Kim had gone. No note, no phone number. She hadn’t even told him her last name. But she’d left the top. Intentionally, as some message that he was too stupid to get? Or had he been lying on it, and she couldn’t pull it free?
Why had she left? They’d had incredible sex. She’d been into it; she’d liked it.
Could she be married? She hadn’t worn a ring, but he’d known women to take off their wedding rings and hook up with a rodeo cowboy.
He shouldn’t waste time thinking about Kim. She’d been a one-nighter, great sex to break his dry spell. He should find a woman with long-term potential. He was nearing thirty. Ronan Ranch was getting established. This was the right time to marry, and then think about a family.
He needed a ranch wife, a woman like his grandma and his mom. An equal partner who’d share in the hard work and love the country lifestyle. No point wasting his time with a dragonfly art student from Hong Kong.
But man, Kim was something. She was different, unpredictable, exciting. Passionate. Oh hell, he wanted to see her again. Or at least find out why she’d skipped out and ended one damned fantastic night.
Kim from Hong Kong, an art student at Emily Carr who designed clothes and was into butterflies. How hard could it be to track her down?
He sat in front of his computer, and in less than a minute, he was looking at her Facebook page. The art was a vibrant abstract design that looked like wings. In her picture, she had orange streaks in her black hair. That hair looked kind of spiky, but when he touched it, it had been soft as silk. Soft as feathers.
Maybe she really did have wings. Maybe she’d flown away, not driven.
Ty wasn’t a fast typist—his hands were too big—but he clicked out the letters deliberately.
Why the hell did you run and when the hell am I going to see you again?
He studied the blunt words. Yup, that pretty much said what needed to be said. He added his e-mail address and phone number, and sent the message off to her.
And now it was bedtime. If the past nights were any example, his sleep would be filled with sex dreams of Kim, and he’d wake with a hard-on as rigid as a fence
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