Hard Ride: A Rough Romance Page 8

  Well, maybe a few others. Like his thick cock and the way his mouth was able to toss me into nirvana within seconds. Maybe his powerful arms and the gorgeous dimple when he smiled.

  Which was rare.

  Then his enthralling stare, a look that could melt the polar icebergs.

  “Damn. Damn. Damn.”

  The second I issued the curse words, I heard the sound of his boots on the porch. I was so in trouble.

  “Your tools are very interesting,” Montana said in the kind of casual way that made me want to rip off his smug smile.

  I glanced over my shoulder, shrugging. “They come in handy.”

  He moved closer, his swagger just as demanding as his attitude. As he turned over the tidy little package, he sniffed the night air. “I’m curious. What in God’s name does an upstanding citizen such as yourself need tools allowing you to break through any kind of lock? Unless you’re a criminal by trade, hiding behind that butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-your-mouth personality.”

  I gritted my teeth, trying to keep my cool while the inner girl longed to lash out uncontrollably. “You must have me mistaken for somebody else. I’m not sweet in any manner.”

  Moving to sit down on the stairs as far away from me as possible, he laid the package between us, using a single finger to slide the tools in my direction. “Trust me, sweetheart, I didn’t call you sweet in any manner. Caustic, definitely. Cunning, oh, you bet. But sweet? If you like having a knife stuck in the middle of your back, then I can go with that.”

  “I never stabbed you in the back! How dare you.” My arm shot out from under the blanket, only seconds away from slapping him hard across the face.

  His reflexes were too quick, the force of his pull dragging me across the decking. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’m not a man you want to fuck with.”

  The full moon managed to highlight the two-day scruff on his face, accentuating every sensual quality that I was determined to hate. He took rough and tumble out for a spin and then some. “So, you’re a dangerous man, huh? Should I be scared of you? Ooohh...” I allowed my voice to shift to a breathless whisper uttering the last word.

  His eyes opened wide, his grip firm and electrifying. He actually snarled, like a beast in heat, expecting I would cave into his ridiculous threat.

  Not this girl.

  I was as scrappy as they came, able to arm wrestle any bull of a man.

  He swallowed before releasing me, shaking his head as he chuckled under his breath. “You’re a firecracker. That’s for certain.”

  The quiet that settled between us was unnerving. “Am I allowed to go now?”

  “Nope. You’re my prisoner for the night. And are you forgetting about our deal?”

  I stared at him in an incredulous manner. “You mean the one about you doing anything you want or the one about me calling you sir?” I wanted to hate him, to smack him with everything I had. The man brought out every emotion, good and bad.

  Hate.

  Rage.

  Lust.

  That made him almost intolerable.

  “Hmm,” he said, shrugging. “Both.”

  “You are kidding me. I have a life and that doesn’t include you.” I bit back several nasty words. “Oh, and sir. S. I. R. Better?”

  Montana dropped his head, kicking one boot against the stair. “A life without me, huh? You have a funny way of showing that. You stalk me, rile me, steal from me, and I’m not on your radar. I’d hate to see a man who is. God help him.”

  Everything about the words infuriated me. The inner fighting girl took over and within seconds, I was all over him, issuing hard punches, connecting the majority of the time. “You just don’t... You’re a fucking asshole. I hate you.” I was surprised by my own level of vehemence. I normally didn’t react to anything or anyone, another bit of training I’d received early on as a child.

  Never let them see you sweat.

  But this man brought out every ounce of wretched behavior, yanking me into a rather primitive state. I almost blurted out that he didn’t understand. About my life. My hardships. He brought out the worst in me.

  He laughed the entire time I was punching him, the asshole making fun of the girl trying to beat him into a pulp. That is until one hard jab caught him directly in the eye. “Fuck!” He smashed his head against the railing, the brutal thudding sound ringing into my ears.

  I was immediately mortified as he fell back against the deck. Oh, fuck. What the hell had I just done?

  “Oh, God. Montana. I’m so sorry!” Scrambling until I was able to straddle him, the blanket all but forgotten, my heart was racing so fast I couldn’t hear anything else. His eyes were closed, his mouth slack, and he remained still against the wooden planks. Unmoving. Maybe dead.

  Wait a minute. I was trained at giving medical care. I lowered my head, listening for any signs of breathing as I checked his pulse. Yes, he was alive, the beats strong and regular. I placed my hand on his forehead, groaning inwardly. “You’re going to be okay. You might have a concussion, so we need to get you inside. Just try and relax.”

  Moaning, he blinked twice then his entire body seemed to slump into a comatose position. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Shit. Shit. Shit.

  He was clammy, beads of sweat trickling down his prominent and gorgeous forehead. I bit my lip before realizing I had to take some action, or I would be in jail for an entirely different reason. “I’m just going to go inside and get a cold compress. Then we’ll get you to bed.”

  “Not so fast, sweetheart,” he said gruffly, that same controlling hand wrapping around my wrist. “I give the orders around here.” With one quick snap, he yanked me down until our lips were centimeters apart. “You belong to me. I suggest you never forget that.”

  I pressed my hand against his chest, shivering as his rippling muscles thrummed against my fingertips. I had no other time to react as he snagged me by the hair, holding me in place as he captured my mouth. I wanted to knee him in the groin, punch him until he wasn’t able to walk again for days, but the kiss was enigmatic, dragging me into the kind of passion that few people ever share.

  I was lightheaded, butterflies swarming my stomach as he forced his tongue past my tight lips, taking everything he wanted. My body was slow to react, unable to fight the effects of one powerful and dominating man. The savage kiss was unlike anything from before, as if a final statement that I had no control over him and never would.

  He rubbed his hand down my spine, brushing the rough pads of his fingers in a way that created a pool of wet heat between my legs. I could only imagine the stain on his jeans. The thought, while riveting and sinful, knocked me out of the reverie. I slammed my hand against his chest, struggling to get out of his hold.

  I managed to break free, scuttling backwards and wiping my lips furiously. “You’re an asshole! I thought I’d hurt you. I thought you were...”

  He laughed, leaning up on his elbows. “Ah, you care.”

  “Ugh.” I continued wiping, crawling further away from him.

  Within two seconds, he was on his feet, towering over me. “You’re a hellion. I don’t know what to do with you.”

  “Let me go home. We’ll never talk about this again.”

  He tapped his finger over his lips before holding out his hand. “I think I have a better idea.”

  “What?”

  “Take my hand,” he directed.

  I realized that I was completely naked, with no way of getting off his property that didn’t include humiliating myself further. I could only imagine the headlines about a naked woman roaming the streets. “Fine.” I allowed him to take my hand, moaning as he simply tossed me over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

  “What I should have done the first time.” He stormed into the house and up a set of stairs. While I couldn’t see what he was doing, I knew he was rustling in a drawer. “I know exactly what’s best for you. I think I might be the only person on this planet who does.”

  After slam
ming the drawer, he ceremoniously dumped me onto a bed. Even though I moved quickly, managing to crawl onto my knees in an effort to get away, he was much faster. Within two seconds flat, my arm was shackled by a pair of handcuffs, the second half snapped around an iron post of the bed.

  “What. The. Fuck?”

  He wagged his finger, the streaming moonlight catching every second of the smug smile crossing his face. “You mean what the fuck, sir, and that’s cursing again. I can see I’m going to have to pull out the big guns.” He leaned over, adjusting the pillow under my head then grabbing a blanket that was across the foot of the bed. “If you try and attack me again, your bottom will be covered with strap marks for a solid week. Do you understand me?”

  His face was close enough to mine that I was able to drink in his heady cologne, the scent rolling through my system, breaking down my core.

  I honestly was at a complete loss for words, my entire mind reeling with thoughts about what he was going to do to me. Keep me locked here forever? Punish me every day? The possibilities were endless.

  And disgusting.

  And incredible.

  Montana huffed not once but twice then tossed the blanket over me. “That should do you for the night.”

  “The night? You’re not really going to leave me here!”

  “Oh, yes, I am, sweetheart. Maybe a bit of time incarcerated will do you some good.” He leaned over, planting his lips against mine.

  I tried to keep my mouth closed, but his tongue was far too strong, pushing past my lips with ease. I didn’t want to arch my back, hungering for him.

  But I did.

  I didn’t want to crave his touch.

  But I did.

  Even as I pressed my hand against his chest, I simply curled my fingers around his shirt, even tugging him closer. The kiss was the same roar of passion that I’d experienced earlier, tingling every inch of my body. I gathered a whiff of my juice floating between us and fought yet another round of embarrassment.

  He didn’t seem to notice as he sucked on my tongue, taking his time and enjoying the moment. When he finally eased back, he winked.

  The bastard actually winked.

  Then Montana sauntered toward the door, those chiseled hips swaying back and forth. “Enjoy your stay, little girl.”

  With that, he closed the door with a solid and defining thud.

  * * *

  My eyes snapped open, my mind cluttered with darkness, violent images that almost always interfered my sleep. My throat was almost clenched shut, the terror of the unknown crippling.

  Suffocating.

  I rolled over, gasping for air as I clawed at something. Soft material. Still reeling from the terrifying and very vivid pictures floating in my mind, I pinched my eyes closed. The imagines remained for a moment, then slowly, finally began to fade, leaving me shaken and weak. I wanted to cry, to relieve the tension that had never left me, no matter how far the miles away.

  I’d been stupid enough to take a trip, one single visit that had changed everything, pitching my entire world into danger. I held my breath, counting to ten in order to calm my ragged breathing. When I was finally able to open my eyes, my vision cleared. There were no monsters lurking in the shadows, no guns planted in my face, scarred men attempting to right whatever wrongs they believed existed.

  There was only a blank wall, except for one rather ridiculous painting of a man on a horse.

  Wait a minute...

  I lifted my head, scanning the room I was in. By all accounts it was a normal bedroom, a single dresser and little else. Then I remembered. Gasping, I jerked up, recalling the events of the night before. Groaning, a wave of embarrassment and guilt flushed my entire system, leaving me wet all over.

  But not necessarily from the wretched emotion. Desire. A deep hunger had overtaken the misguided fear from before. “What the hell?” You’re losing it, Kennedy. The little voice was never wrong. As I shifted, all the details of the moments with Montana floated into my mind. Then I realized something else.

  I was no longer shackled.

  In fact, my clothes had been placed at the end of the bed.

  I scrambled to a sitting position, pulling my wrist into my other hand. When had he unshackled me? I remembered lying awake for what seemed like hours. Exhaustion must have taken over, claiming me sometime in the middle of the night. As I rubbed my wrist, I allowed the realization of what had occurred to fizzle out. There was no need to relive the past. So I’d punched him. So I’d fought with him. So he’d spanked me and... fucked me and...

  “Jesus.” The single word seemed to echo in the room. My entire body seemed to be shaking as I attempted to stand, almost blinded from the bright sun peeking in through the very open blinds. While sparring with the wayward cowboy hadn’t been in my best interest, my current rickety condition had nothing to do with his domineering nature.

  I eased off the bed, almost falling back, cursing under my breath.

  “No cursing or I’ll wash your mouth out with soap.”

  Montana’s deep voice seemed to resonate in my ears, a reminder that I was one bad little girl. Perhaps I was. Okay, so I definitely was, but I had good reason. Right?

  I managed to make it two steps without falling, grateful there was an adjoining bathroom. I washed my face, refusing to turn on the light. Sadly, the bags under my eyes were telling. I was skating on thin ice. Still. After all these years.

  I shuffled back into the bedroom, staring down at my clothes. They seemed like filthy reminders of the horrible things he’d done to me.

  The man.

  The monster.

  The... sexy beast.

  Now I was rolling my eyes. No matter the attraction I felt, this kind of crap wasn’t going to continue. He had another think coming if he truly expected I was going to be some kind of prisoner for what, days? Months? The thought left a bad taste in my mouth.

  Uh-huh...

  The little voice inside my head was already active, laughing at me. Fantastic. The day was off to a fabulous start. I was going to put on my clothes like a decent human being and demand my things. I had a business to run.

  My confidence built, I took careful steps, finally grabbing my shirt. Instead of putting it on immediately, I brought the material to my face, taking a deep whiff. The material was covered in his scent, reeking of his testosterone. Dear God, my pussy quivered more than once thinking about him.

  I heard a sound, sending a chill directly into my legs. A voice. No, two voices. Where were they coming from? I moved toward the window, peeking out around the blinds. From the angle, I was able to see a portion of the driveway.

  And the sheriff’s car.

  No. Oh. Fucking. No.

  Montana had done what almost every other man in my life had. He’d betrayed me. Well, I wasn’t going to stand for this. I hunkered against the wall, watching the two men talking. While the conversation didn’t seem heated, I had no doubt Montana was explaining in exact detail the events of the two days. All my indiscretions. All my bad behavior.

  And I was going to jail.

  “Think. Think!” I moved away, slapping my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming. He couldn’t do this to me. It was his word against mine. Yeah, like the sheriff was going to believe an outsider who’d been chained to the man’s bed. What could I do? Montana still had my keys, phone, and the incriminating evidence of the tools used. There was no other excuse for them. They were only made for one thing.

  Breaking and entering.

  Well, Montana didn’t live that far out. I had my clothes and my wits about me. I could walk to a neighbor’s house, telling them that I’d broken down on the side of the road. I hadn’t taken my phone with me. I smiled, finally able to yank the shirt over my head. The concept was plausible enough.

  I hurried to finish dressing, jerking on my boots and fluffing my hair. I might look like some two-bit whore in my skimpy attire, but it was hot outside. That had to give me a partial excuse. Yep. Now all I had to do wa
s get out without being seen. If I left through the back door, running into the woods that surrounded his property, I knew I could find my way back to the main road.

  And the very road the sheriff used.

  “Fuck.”

  I’d take my chances, staying hidden until I found another house. I could call Julia and things would go on from there. Explaining why my truck was parked in Montana’s driveway would take some creative juices, but I was up for the task. We were celebrating. I had too much to drink. He asked me to crash at his house. Not bad.

  I carefully opened the door, listening for any sounds that the conversation had been moved inside. There was nothing but sweet silence. I carefully made my way down the stairs, tiptoeing as much as the rigid boots would allow. I found the kitchen and the back door with ease, although I struggled with the two-part lock. Maybe my hands were just sweating too much.

  The humid air hit me in the face. I studied the area around his property. The land for the house and barn had been carved out, leaving dense trees all surrounding overgrown grass. This should be interesting.

  The damn stairs creaked as I maneuvered down them. He hadn’t done any maintenance in far too long. Too busy being a famous rodeo star and a high-paid surgeon to care about his property. I could only imagine the condition of his barn and stables, let alone the poor horses. Oh, Montana was more like a gold digger. The man couldn’t even cut his grass with regularity. The thick under-bush and tumbleweeds had taken over what limited grassy area he had. Damn the man for making me walk through this shit.

  Firmly convinced I’d been right about him all along, I tromped down the last stair, raking my hand through my hair. I made it a good five feet, my legs already itching. Then a single cracking board.

  “Leaving so soon?”

  His sexy voice beamed into the smallest parts of my brain, yanking at every emotion. I jumped at least two solid feet, my foot catching a rock and down I went.

  Then the worst sound in the world appeared from the left. A sizzle. Not really a sizzle but more like a hiss. A hiss of a snake. Oh. Fucking God. The entire world seemed to stall as I attempted to get to my feet, jerking forward in my effort to get away. I knew the sound of a rattlesnake when I heard it.