Nash: A Rough Romance Read online

  I had difficulty breathing, my throat tightening as I advanced toward the gun. It had been years since I’d even held one in my hands, let alone pressed a trigger. As I scooped the piece into my hands, the weight seemed heavier than I remembered. Shooting a gun was just like riding a bike. Right?

  Another cracking sound from somewhere close to the front of the house made me jump. Where the hell were Reaper’s keys? They had to be somewhere close. I didn’t see the man as completely organized, but he wouldn’t hide his keys. After taking several shallow breaths, I made my way toward another part of the house, staring into a darkened room. The absence of light was even more oppressive than before.

  Move. Move!

  I bit my lip then took tentative steps inside, turning swiftly the second I heard what sounded like another heavy boom then a thud against the front door. Shaking, I pulled the gun into both hands before rushing into the living room just as the front door was kicked in, slamming against the wall. My heart in my throat, I did the only thing I could do.

  I fired a shot.

  Pop!

  “What. The. Fuck?”

  The deep baritone voice reverberated in my ears. I hadn’t killed the bastard. I was barely able to hold onto the weapon I was shaking so badly, beads of perspiration running down both sides of my face. I could do this. I had to get the hell out of here. The second I was prepared to fire another shot, a flash of motion caught my eye, the intruder dropping whatever was in his arms and bolting forward.

  “Mitch. Stop!”

  The voice becoming recognizable, a hard body slammed into mine, shoving me backwards and against a wall, hands yanking my arms over my head.

  Pop!

  The second shot echoed, the noise mixing with my yelp of anguish.

  “No!” I moaned.

  “Fuck. Me.”

  Reaper.

  “What the hell did you think you were doing?” he barked as he grappled to remove the gun from my hands.

  I continued to shudder, trying to force the horrible terror away. I’d almost shot him. “I… I heard a loud noise. I thought…” The dim lighting only highlighted the fury in his eyes as he continued to hold my wrists with one hand, slowly lowering the weapon with the other.

  “You thought what? A bear was going to break into the house?” Huffing, he shook his head as he stared into my eyes. “You almost killed me.”

  “I’m sorry. Okay?”

  He pushed the weight of his body against mine, his breathing labored. My heart echoed in my ears as I fought the continuing fear, finally sagging against the wall. He refused to let go of my arms, his face dangerously close to mine, his voluptuous lips far too close.

  “What the hell is going on, Mitch?”

  “I was just afraid. I woke up and it was dark.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said as he lowered his head even further, his hot, scattered breaths dancing across my face. “Don’t bullshit me.”

  “What… happened?” I leaned into him, daring him to kiss me. Jesus. What was I thinking?

  “A tree limb fell on one of the main generators. Knocked out the power. I ain’t gonna be able to fix it until in the morning.” He studied me intently, his eyes never blinking and damn if his scent wasn’t driving me crazy.

  “That’s all?”

  Chuckling, he finally backed away, clicking the safety on the weapon. “Yeah, that’s it. Happens up here. Now, I’m going to pick up that load of firewood that I was forced to drop when you tried to kill me. Then, we’re going to talk.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “Like hell there isn’t.”

  His words were harsh, the man obviously fed up with me. I glared at him defiantly, darting another look toward the open door. I was chilled to the bone, the howling wind and blowing snow barely adding to the paralyzing feeling coursing through every vein. I could swear this was nothing but a premonition as to what was to come. “Fine.”

  “Fine,” he said, laughing then shoving the gun in his waistband behind his back. “While you obviously have no clue how to handle a gun, you missed by two inches. You better thank God you did. You definitely need a firm hand.”

  I opened my mouth, about a dozen nasty retorts shifting into my mind. “What?”

  “You heard me.” He stormed toward the door, slamming it shut before bending over.

  And all I could think about was what a nice ass he had in the tight pair of jeans. I closed my eyes briefly, rubbing my forehead before folding my arms. This was an absolute nightmare.

  “Go sit on the couch,” he said as he reared up, several pieces of wood in his hand. “Now!”

  There was no reason for me to obey him, but I did, taking long strides toward the couch and plopping down, immediately grabbing the blanket.

  Reaper dropped the wood on the hearth, crouching down and shoving two pieces onto the fire. After stoking it, he removed his gloves, turning to stare at me.

  I curled my legs under me, trying to ignore him, but I heard everything he was doing as he removed his jacket then stormed into another part of the house, his thudding boots making me jump with every step. He was pissed. How the hell was I supposed to know what was going on? I was a city girl.

  A laugh threatened to bubble to the surface, but I bit it back. I had a feeling my reaction wouldn’t go over well. When he returned, he held a lantern in his hand as well as two bottles of water.

  “Drink this and I mean every drop. You don’t need any additional liquor right now.” There was no gentleness in his voice, no reminder that we’d shared a carnal moment. He was all business, remaining furious.

  I yanked the bottle out of his hand, provoking another growl. After cracking open the bottle, I turned my attention toward the fire, praying to God I would be able to get warm.

  He sat down in the chair after a few seconds, shifting his bottle of water back and forth in his hands. “Who the hell did you think was outside?”

  “I dunno. Boogeymen.”

  Sighing, he wiped his face and leaned forward, remaining silent for a full minute. “Look, you don’t know me, but if I had any intention of hurting you, I assure you I could have done so with ease. I’m not only a black belt in karate, I also have special weapons training, able to shoot a man between the eyes in the dark from a pretty amazing distance.”

  “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

  “That’s supposed to get you to talk. So talk.”

  I huddled against the back of the couch, struggling with saying any words. “I’m not a criminal.”

  He laughed, shaking his head. “That’s easy to tell by your shooting skills. Then who are you?”

  “I’m just a girl trying to live my life.”

  I could tell he was holding his breath, likely fighting some urge to yank me over his lap all over again. Every inch of my body tingled at the notion. I rolled my eyes, trying to get the vision out of my mind. It was freaking ridiculous.

  “Is your name even Mitch?”

  “Yes,” I managed, a lump remaining in my throat. “Short for Michelle.”

  “Okay. You’re not from Montana, are you?”

  “No. Illinois. Chicago. Well, at least recently.”

  “That makes sense,” he said after a few seconds.

  “Meaning what?”

  “Your attire. Your lack of knowledge of the mountains and ignoring the weather conditions. That’s just for starters. I’m surprised you made it this far without a bear attacking you.”

  I could swear there was a gleam in his eyes. He was enjoying this. “Fuck you.”

  He slowly turned his head in my direction. “That’s not very ladylike.”

  “Yeah? Well, I’m not a lady. I’m…”

  “Maybe you need another spanking to jar your memory.”

  “That’s insane.”

  He broke the seal on his water, taking several gulps. Then I watched as he put it on the table. “Do we need to go over your behavior? You broke into my shed, assaulted me, then only
minutes ago attempted to kill me.”

  “None of that is true.” My God. He was loving every second of tormenting me. Who the hell did he think he was?

  “It isn’t?” he asked as he lifted a single eyebrow, the amusement on his face gnawing at my insides. He held the water bottle in front of him, swirling the liquid in the most annoying way.

  I was obviously trying his patience.

  “Is your name really Reaper? Well, of course it’s not. You just picked that out of the blue to terrify me. Maybe you’re the actual criminal living all the way up here, ignoring the rest of the world.”

  I could tell I’d struck a nerve, his demeanor changing entirely. The warm glow of the fire was enough to see a look of sadness crossing his face. When he exhaled, the sound was ragged and haunting. I shrank back, knowing somewhere in my pea-headed brain that I should apologize.

  “Fine. You want to know about me, Mitch? I was in the Marines. The name was given to me by a very special group of friends who served alongside me.” He half chuckled, the faraway look remaining. “We all grew up here. Regular bad boys who thought we could conquer the world. We were such babies back then, idiots in my mind. We had no idea how the world was really run, the horrors that existed at every turn. When we enlisted, I’m not even certain a single one of us had any understanding of what we were going to face. We just thought serving our country would be a great way of seeing other parts of the world, maybe meeting fascinating girls.”

  The story was heartfelt, catching me off guard. I certainly hadn’t expected anything like this. “Then you’re a hero.”

  His hand began to shake and within seconds, water sloshed out of the top of the bottle from the pressure he used. A few seconds later, he tossed the plastic into the fire, snorting as the sizzling sound erupted over the cracking of the wood. “I’m no hero. Make certain you understand that.”

  I remained quiet, completely thrown by his statement. “Do you mind if I ask your real name?”

  He eyed me as if trying to figure out why I’d ask him the question in the first place. “Nash. Nash Carter.”

  “You’re really from Montana?”

  “We’re making small talk now?”

  He asked the question with such vehemence I shrank back even further. “I just wanted to get to know you.”

  “To make sure I’m not a killer? Well, I am, just likely not in the same way you’re talking about.”

  I leaned forward, longing to actually take his hand into mine. Why? He was nobody to me, but I sensed he was in a very bad place. “Soldiers are sometimes required to perform actions that they wouldn’t ordinarily consider when they’re faced with enemies. You did what you were tasked to do and I’m sure you did it admirably.”

  “As if you would know.”

  “I may be just an intruder to you, but I might know a few things.”

  “Oh, yeah?” he challenged. “How? From some glossy bullshit movie you’ve seen? All crap if you ask me.”

  “My brother was in the army. Okay? He died in the line of duty, so maybe I do know a thing or two.”

  His eyes opened wide and he sucked in his breath, finally exhaling a good ten seconds later. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “I was very young when it happened. I didn’t completely understand until years later. However, my mother told me stories, making certain I knew just how heroic my brother’s actions were. You are a hero whether you want to accept the role or not.”

  “Ask the innocent people in Afghanistan. Ask my buddies. Hell, ask certain members of the press. They’re likely to tell you something different.”

  “I don’t believe that.” My words surprised even me.

  He locked eyes with mine, his full of the kind of cold darkness that I’d seen in Giordani, but the two men were entirely different. One laced with evil, the other with guilt. What in the hell had happened to the man?

  “Why the long beard?”

  My question seemed to break the ice. A different shimmer occurred in his eyes as he rubbed his fingers through his beard. “For years I followed every rule, including a strict dress code. When I left a few months ago, I no longer had to follow anyone’s regulations.”

  “You’ve been here for months?”

  He shot me a look that said I was pushing. “I traveled in Europe for a few weeks before coming here. If you gotta know, I’ve been here for a couple weeks.”

  “All alone. No friends? No family?”

  “Jesus, Mitch. Do you need my life’s story or are you just trying to get out of talking to me?”

  “Is it a crime to want to know?”

  “No, I guess not. Montana is where I grew up. I came back here to figure out what the hell I’m going to do with my life. I have some family, a few buddies who already returned, but I have no desire to see them at this point.” he said, every word calculated and noncommittal. “And why the fuck am I bothering to tell you anything?”

  Another wave of sadness washed over him. I was shocked how much my heart ached for the man. I didn’t even know Reaper was telling the truth, and I seriously doubted he was going to allow me to learn much else even if it was. “I like the beard.”

  He chuckled, his eyes flashing as he looked at me. No, as he looked through me. “Now that you know I’m not a serial killer, start talking.”

  Another wave of discomfort forced my heart to pitter-patter. Just admitting what had gone on was disturbing. Trust. You can trust him.

  “I just… I can’t. Okay?” It was obvious I wasn’t ready to trust anyone.

  When he stood slowly, I was drawn immediately to the fact he’d placed his hands on his belt buckle.

  Swallowing hard, a blanket of warmth shot up from my neck to my cheeks, my entire body trembling all over again. “What are you doing?”

  “Removing my belt just in case it becomes necessary to remind you who’s in charge.”

  I realized I’d opened and closed my mouth at least twice, resisting challenging him on his actions. I couldn’t take my eyes off the way he tugged the thick piece of leather through his belt loops. The bastard was taking his sweet time in doing so. Fuck him. He wasn’t my daddy. The word brought another wave of anguish cutting into my stomach.

  “And when I cage you, you’re going to call me Daddy.”

  I’d never forget the words the monster had issued outside the courtroom.

  I looked away yet out of the corner of my eye, I couldn’t help but notice the way Reaper placed the belt onto the coffee table, just within reach. He sat back down, giving me a hard look.

  “You’re horrible and I wasn’t trying to kill you earlier,” I muttered.

  “Then who exactly were you trying to kill?”

  Huffing, I looked away. “Nobody.”

  “If you’re not a criminal, then that means someone is after you. What’s the reason you ran so far away from home?”

  “I have my reasons. Can we leave it at that?”

  “Not good enough.”

  “Why are you so damn interested? I’m not going to steal anything from you.”

  “Because if you’re in danger, I deserve to know what I’m dealing with.” He cocked his head, waiting for my answer.

  A moment of tension shifted between us, the sound of the wood sizzling in the fireplace almost surreal.

  “That’s it. Time to jog your memory.” He was on his feet, snapping his hand around my wrist before I could yelp.

  “No. No!” When he sat down, pulling me over his lap at the same time, I wiggled just as I’d done before, instantly rewarded with his hard cock pressing against my stomach.

  He yanked at the shirt, dragging it up to my waist then ripping down my panties with ease. The way the air hit my still aching bottom was more embarrassing than before. Why? He’d already seen every inch of me.

  I flailed, undulating and tossing my arm back.

  “You are such a little brat. Jesus Christ. I probably need to tie you to the bed just to keep you from acting out.”

 
“Don’t you dare!”

  He laughed in his usual throaty manner as he swung his leg over mine, pinning me down. “This might be a little awkward, but I think a few strikes of my belt will do you some good.”

  When he leaned over, grabbing the strap from the table, I managed to elbow him in the gut. “You’re not my keeper.”

  “I am for now and that’ll cost ya. It just went from ten lashes to twenty. Do you want to go for any higher?”

  I huffed and I puffed, and he brought the belt down not once but twice, the sharp slaps just enough to make me whimper.

  “Nah. This isn’t going to have the effect I wanted.” Reaper continued to have a jovial, entirely too sexual husk in his voice as he lifted me with one arm, tossing me against the back of the chair.

  I tried to scramble off, but he fisted my hair, leaning over and allowing me to see a grin crossing his face. “Fuck you!”

  “None of that, sweetheart. I can be a not so nice guy when I’m pushed. Thought you would have figured that out by now.”

  The way he was treating this was insufferable. How dare the man. “Oh, I’ve figured out a lot of things about you.”

  He pushed me back over the chair then slid his hand down my spine, tapping on one side of my bottom then the other. “You might as well get used to the fact I will spank you on a regular basis. Seems like that’s the only way you learn. As a reminder. My house. My rules. You enjoy breaking them.”

  I was profoundly befuddled by his bold actions, suddenly losing the ability to fight him. What the hell? I dug my fingers into the edge of the chair, staring out the front window into the darkness. Was I actually going to allow this to continue?

  You are a bad girl.

  A snarl left my lips. I hated my inner voice. I was actually a good girl. I’d followed all the rules my entire life, never stepping outside of them. Well, almost never. This was entirely different.

  When he smacked the belt across my sit spot, there was almost no pain. Was he going easy on me, trying to trick me into talking? I shifted my hips back and forth, still loathing the man for putting me in this position. He cracked the damn strap four more times in rapid succession.