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  He shifted his thoughts, thinking about the girl from the bar. Why in the hell had he acted like a cretin, even adding more of a twang to his talk? Chuckling, he had to admit, toying with her had been a delicious foray away from the usual activity at the bar. Even the blind date had realized he wasn’t in the game. He tried to remember the girl’s name. Bonnie or Betsy or something came to mind. She’d been skin and bones and shared a penchant for all things girlie. He wanted a real woman and one who wasn’t afraid to get dirty.

  The thought gave him an instant hard on. The red head was something else, all feisty bullshit and a ‘take no shit’ attitude. Reaching down, he stroked his cock just thinking about the promise he’d made to her. Spanking. Well, maybe he’d have something to talk about at the round table of the Burnout Club if allowed to join. After all, the members believed in old fashioned relationships, complete with spanking used as a method of discipline. He groaned. His brain was foggy. There was no way he was joining anything, including the Jackals, no matter how much Garcia pushed.

  Jessica. Why in the world was she in Montana? He could tell she was a handful. He was also able to sense she was hiding behind a mask. Then again, wasn’t everyone to some degree?

  He rolled over onto his back and spread his legs, fingering his shaft. The date had been a bust, even though the buxom blond would have ridden him like a bronco for hours. He closed his eyes and thought about the redhead. She was worth the ride. A series of intense sensations swept through his body. He was hungry for female companionship. His body tensed as he pumped his dick, squeezing until his balls ached.

  Mac snorted and placed his head on Stoker’s shoulder. His tailed thumped against the hardwood floor and seconds later the pup was once again cozy in his golden fur.

  He exhaled, the innocent sharing of pure joy reminding him what was most important in his life. “Yeah, I know boy. I’m pathetic. Right?” The words whispered, he patted the pup’s head and slid his hand away from his cock. Masturbating might be a necessity at times, but left him with nothing but an unfulfilled need. Maybe he should have taken Betsy or Bitsy up on her blatant offer. When Mac snuggled even closer, taking the opportunity to nip his ear, Stoker closed his eyes. Maybe he’d sleep on the floor the remainder of the night.

  He shifted until he was comfortable and willed himself to go to sleep. Tomorrow was a new day. He’d have to go to Ralph’s place and identify the work to be done. The opportunity would test his carpentry skills. He smiled as Mac began to snore. Life wasn’t so bad. He might not have a job after his suspension but maybe he’d develop his career as a handy man.

  Buzz!

  Stoker jerked to a sitting position. The sound was unmistakable. There was a fire somewhere in Missoula city limits. The alarm was always on, catching every department’s call. He scuttled to a standing position and walked toward the scanner.

  “Three alarm fire at 12876 Myers Bridge Road. All corresponding engines are in route.”

  “Shit,” he muttered. While he didn’t know the exact address, he certainly knew the neighborhood well enough. The location was in an affluent community nestled in the mountains. The spot was known for summer homes for vacationing royalty.

  The alarms continued, indicating an active fire. He hesitated only briefly before grabbing his jeans. This he had to see. As he grabbed his gear and keys, he remembered he was no longer on the engine squad. Still, they might need his expertise.

  He rushed to the door, Mac trailing behind him. “Be good boy. I’ll be home as soon as I can.” Whether or not he was invited, he wasn’t going to miss this fire. His gut told him this was another act of arson. Whatever was going on in town, no one seemed to be taking it seriously. Tonight, he’d try and change their beliefs. No matter what he had to do, including losing his job. Snorting, he walked out the door and tipped his head. An eerie orange glow highlighted the horizon.

  “Are you ready for your spanking?”

  “What?” she breathed out and took a step back. The massive hunk of a man was hovering in the shadows.

  He raised his arm and crooked his finger. “Ask me for what you want.”

  As he inched closer, she drank in his scent and shuddered. Her mouth was dry, her nipples hard and she was shaking all over. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Yes, you do. Ask me. Tell me what a bad little girl needs.”

  “No!” Jessica’s eyes flew open. She panted and reached out, trying to focus. The dream faded into the shadows, much like her burning desire. She slapped her hand on something soft, finally remembering where she was. The dream had been so incredible, so real. She placed the tips of her fingers against her lips. A cold draft of air stole the sweet moment. “Shit.” Stoker. She’d had a wet and wild dream about a man she just met and one she couldn’t stand. What in the world was wrong with her? Panting, she realized this was the first time her dreams hadn’t been filled with wretched visions, constant reminders of the horrors she’d experienced. In all the years with Cody, not once had she been able to push aside the damning memories, finding solace lying beside him in bed. They’d been fuck partners, nothing more.

  The realization frosted her last nerve. She’d wasted several years of her life believing Cody was the one, her perfect mate. Not a single man alive could erase the past, or her inhibitions. She was damaged goods, not good enough for anyone.

  She jerked the covers around her and rolled over, remembering the way Stoker’s eyes flashed, confusion regarding her personality an adorable trait. All she could think about was the way he’d looked at her. Huffing, she closed her eyes.

  Stoker pulled out a hardback chair and sat down, patting his lap. “You know what you require and I’m the man you need.”

  “You’re out of your mind. I don’t need anything you’re offering.” She stood in the corner, glaring at him as he fingered his belt.

  “Come on. Be a good girl and come here. This will do you a world of good.”

  She shifted from foot to foot and bit her lip. She wanted nothing more than to drape her body over his lap. Swallowing hard, she inched closer. Her inner voice reminded her of all the desires she’d refused over the years. How could he know her? How had he been able to glean a look inside her very soul? “Will a spanking really help?”

  “Trust me.”

  She nodded and took several steps toward him. “Am I a really a bad girl?”

  “Nothing my hand can’t cure, but I can tell you’re going to need regular discipline. Come on. Let’s get started.”

  The moment she stood beside his chair, he eased her over his lap, yanking her gown up to her waist. “Twenty strikes of my hand. Then I’ll use the belt.”

  Wet and tingling, she placed her hands on the floor as anticipation built.

  Crack!

  “Good girl.”

  His words faded into the distance. “Oh God.” Jessica turned on her other side and dragged the covers over her head, almost certain his cologne lingered. You’re insane. Then why did her skin itch? Why was she craving his firm hand? She eased her hand behind her, sliding her finger down to her butt. After rubbing for a few seconds, she gave up on the wonderful dream. No man was going to touch her, let alone spank her. Not now. Not ever.

  She threw off the covers and crawled out of bed. Huffing, she paced the hardwood floor and scanned the perimeter of the bedroom. Rustic wasn’t the word. She’d been transported back in time. Holding her arms, she walked toward the bedroom window. At least the storm was over. A slither of moonlight had found its way through the clouds. She continued to think about the cowboy before shoving the idea in a black box, never to be opened again. She was here to heal and lick her wounds, not create new ones. Now wide awake, she groaned as her stomach rumbled. She struggled into her jeans, grabbed a shirt, and rubbed her frozen hands. She already hated the place.

  Ralph had dropped her off, coming inside long enough to turn on a single light, hand her a set of keys and point to the barn. She walked to the small dresser and glared down at th
e lot of them, groaning. There were so many she wasn’t even certain which one was for the front door. Not that it had been locked. Ralph simply strode in as if the thought of having a monster lurking inside never entered his mind.

  He’d murmured something about lighting a fire then left her to her own accord. Sure, he’d be back in the morning before he left. What about tonight? Shivering, she rubbed her arms and eyed the firewood placed rather precariously beside the stone fireplace. Now she needed her coat. Breathing out, she could swear she was able to make out a slow stream of hot air. There was no doubt her breath would crystallize soon enough.

  She’d fallen asleep in the truck on the way, lured into a ragged slumber. Now, she was wide awake and freezing to death. A quick glance at her watch and she shook her head. Just after one and she doubted she’d get any sleep tonight, certainly not as a popsicle.

  “Great. I’ve come to the wilderness. I may die here alone and no one will care.” She walked out into the living room and toward the fireplace, determined to figure out how best to start a roaring fire. After five minutes of searching, she finally located a book of matches in a drawer in the kitchen. Ralph’s hospitality was somewhere in the number ‘two’ zone. Maybe he wanted her to rough it so she’d leave sooner versus later.

  The thought made her snarl as well as more determined. She placed the wood just so, crisscrossing logs as she’d seen in dozens of movies, and went on the hunt for paper of any kind, finally happening on a set of old papers. Rumbling and folding, she placed a hefty amount under and around the wood and just before she grabbed the matches, stuck her head up and inside the fireplace, searching for the flue.

  Squeak!

  “No!” A roar of wings flew in her direction. She jerked backward, landing on her butt as the creatures from hell descended on her. “Get away from me!” The flock of monsters flew toward the ceiling and almost instantly the noise stopped.

  She rose to her feet, brushing off her jeans. “Bats. Perfect. I have to live with bats.” Her hand was shaking as she attempted to light the fire. After using four matches, she managed to get one lit. Within seconds the paper caught, sending plumes of smoke into the living room.

  Coughing, she fanned the fire, terrified she’d burn the place down. She glared at the bluish flames, hissing in a similar twinge as the crackle coming from the logs. Within a few seconds she was rewarded with a warm glow.

  “See? I can do this.” She wasn’t entirely certain who she was trying to convince. She was starving given she’d refused to eat anything after her confrontation with ‘he man’ of the year. The two glasses of wine had left her famished and wanting to down an entire bottle. Hadn’t Ralph said he’d left some food and drink at least? She was bound and determined to find out.

  After a careful search of the kitchen, she was able to find what had to be wine left over from the eighties. She laughed like a giddy school girl when she located a wine opener. A wine glass was something else entirely. She settled on a rocks glass that she washed twice. Studying the amber glass, she grimaced. The wine would kill any remaining germs.

  Pleasantly surprised the wine wasn’t vinegar, she frowned and opened the refrigerator. While the contents weren’t what she’d consider gourmet, they were fresh and appeared edible. Eggs and bacon, butter, cheese, some brown meat and bagels were sitting on a single shelf. You bet she was renting a car tomorrow. She froze realizing she was totally dependent on the old guy to come to her rescue.

  Well, not completely. She took another sip of wine and wrangled the card Stoker had wanted her to have. Studying the bold letters, she raised her eyebrow and turned on the light above the stove. “A fireman, huh?” The profession suited him. All fire and brimstone. Snickering, she shoved the card back into her pocket and sipped her wine. Staying away from him was a new mission.

  Whoosh!

  She ducked, a hiss escaping her mouth. The bats were back. Disgusted, she swallowed the rest of her glass and raced to find the thin jacket she’d brought with her. She had to get the hell out of here, if even for a little while, even if she half froze. Tomorrow, Mr. Big Shot Ralph was going to evacuate the critters or else.

  The front door was stuck and out of frustration, she kicked the wood. “Fuck!” She shook her head and tried again. This time she managed to turn the knob with ease. “I hate the country. I hate animals. I hate ranches. I loathe cowboys!” A long, brisk walk would do her some good. If you aren’t eaten by lions, tigers and bears.

  “Shut up,” she mumbled under her breath and took long strides, heading down the driveway. She shoved her hands in her pockets and walked with determination, making it down the expansive pathway in no time. She stood at what appeared to be a fork in the road. She didn’t remember which was the road Ralph had used and at this point didn’t care. After a second or two of hesitation, she went to the right.

  Within a few minutes the forest had enveloped the sliver of moon, causing the path to become treacherous. Unable to see in front of her, she turned around, grousing to herself for being a ridiculous girl.

  Click… Swoosh.

  Hairs stood up on the back of her neck. She suddenly realized she was more like food than a guest traipsing through the woods. “Great.” She’d have to pick up her pace. Maybe the bears would think she was a friend. Laughter bubbled to her lips just seconds before she took off running.

  Wham! Boom!

  Jessica hit the ground with enough force the wind was knocked out of her. She lay still, catching her breath as the night sounds closed in on her. Praying wasn’t an option. There was no time. She scrambled to get to her feet and heard a rumbling coming from behind her. There was a herd of beasts ready to skin and eat her alive.

  “Run. Get up and run.” Every muscle in her body fought against any movement. She managed to get to her feet and take two steps before she tripped again, this time falling face first into brush. “Ouch!” Twigs and limbs scraped against her face and hands, thorns puncturing her skin. She panted, the pain biting.

  Ssss…

  “No!” Snake. There had to be a snake. She was going to be immobilized before being eaten. She managed to jerk up and out of the briar patch just as a massive light blinded her. She threw up her hand and realized the rumble was an oncoming vehicle. “No!” Dodging to the right then left, there was nowhere to go where she wouldn’t fall yet again so she threw out her arms in an effort to stop the oncoming disaster.

  Screech!

  Closing her eyes, she hunkered down, anticipating the hit. When she heard a bump and a rattle, she exhaled and stole a look. The lights remained on, leaving her sightless. “Thank God.” Thank you. Thank you.

  “What the hell?” the driver huffed as he jumped out of the cab.

  “I was just taking a walk.”

  “A walk? In the middle of the freaking night?” The tone of his voice was gruff. “Are you flipping out of your mind?”

  “Wait a minute.” She knew the voice, the sexy cowboy-style drawl. “Stoker?”

  Silence.

  “Is that you?” She ventured forward.

  “Jesus Christ. I can’t seem to get rid of you,” Stoker huffed and took long strides toward her.

  “I belong here, thank you very much.” Why was he so angry? Because you’re out in the middle of the woods as if you know what you’re doing.

  “You, little lady, could have gotten yourself killed and I don’t mean just getting yourself run over. What do they teach you city slickers?”

  “Of course. More about the bears ready to eat me alive?” Jessica took a step back.

  Ssss…

  Stoker rushed past her.

  Bam!

  “Shit!” The gunshot was deafening. She crouched down and moved toward the source of the light. “What was that?” Even in the bright glow of the truck’s headlights, she didn’t see anything. When Stoker walked into view, he held up his arm. Something long and thick dangled, slithering like a… She gulped. “A snake?”

  “Copperhead. Don’t think you w
anted to mess with him. Now did ya?” Grunting, he swung his arm, pitching the snake into the woods.

  She bit her lip and inched backward, bumping into his vehicle. “I’m sorry. I was just out…”

  “Yeah, I know. Walking. What are you trying to prove? You’re no country girl. That’s for certain,” Stoker interrupted. “I have a right mind to…”

  “Spank me?” It was her turn to intervene.

  Within a second, he was in her face. He grabbed both arms, pulling them to the side. “Not a bad idea, but I was thinking to take you to the Sheriff’s office.”

  “For what?” The gall of the man.

  “Would you like me to start a list? A public nuisance. A menace to society. How about a city girl who needs to be kept behind closed doors?”

  Jessica narrowed her eyes, ripped one arm out of his hold and managed to cold cock him just under the chin.

  “Christ!” He tumbled backward, falling hard onto the ground.

  She slapped her hands over her mouth then burst out laughing. “Cowboy, eh?”

  “You really need some discipline in your life.”

  “And you’re just the man to make that happen. So, I’ve heard.”

  He exhaled and climbed to his feet. When he walked toward her he shook his head. “You must be the guest staying at old Ralph’s place.”

  “What, did the fact I left with him give you a hint or are you clairvoyant?” Yes, she had a smart mouth. Yes, she was pushing her limit. And no, she didn’t care in the least.

  Closing the distance, he crowded her against the heated steel. “Do you really think I was paying attention to you?”

  She shrunk a good four inches. That’s exactly what she’d thought. “Well, you were very interested in what I had to say.”