Rogue Cowboy (10 page)

“We’re here to see Genevieve Burrows,” Zeke tells the lady at the front desk.  “She was admitted today, brought in by ambulance from Pine Creek.”

She taps away at her computer while we wait anxiously, but patiently.

“You’ll need to go to the reception desk on level two.”

“Thank you.”  Zeke squeezes my hand and then we walk to the lift.  The doors close and he suddenly pins me against the wall, stealing my breath.  Caging me in with his arms, the energy filling the small metal box has me lifting my gaze to meet his.

“Are you really okay?  You didn’t say much on the drive over, and I need to know you’re okay.”

“I’ll be fine.  I think I’m still in shock.  But, I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, you will be,” he states.  “You have me.”

The door dings as it opens, but he doesn’t rush us out.  Instead, he leans down and kisses me deeply, only pulling back after he swipes his tongue through my mouth, making my knees go weak.

Once again, Zeke speaks to the receptionist, and after initially resisting to let us in because we’re not immediate family, she finally relents when Zeke explains Genevieve is my employee, and gives her a brief rundown of this morning’s events.

“Room sixty-three.  Just down the hall on your left.  Please keep the visit short.”

“Thank you,” I tell her, meaning every word.

Walking into Genevieve’s room and seeing her lying in that hospital bed has my heart breaking.  She looks so fragile.  So weak.  So helpless.

I’m still unsure of her injuries, and I don’t think I’ll be privy to that information anyways, seeing as I’m not her immediate family.   A monitor breaks the silence with it’s incessant steady
beep, beep, beep
sound, but that’s the only noise in the room. 

“Genevieve, it’s me, Sienna.  Get better soon.  I’m so sorry this happened.  I’m sorry you were hurt because of me.”  I break down, crying, clutching her hand – her
warm
hand.  It gives me hope.  I’d imagined her dead…cold…and now to see her warm, her chest rising and falling steadily, fills me with renewed hope.  Hope that everything will be okay.  Hope that everyone will come out of this without scars.

“Hey.  Shh,” Zeke, soothes me, his strong hand running up and down my back, comforting me.

I dry my eyes and lean down to kiss Genevieve’s cheek.  “I’ll see you soon.  Sleep well.”

Once again, Zeke takes my hand and then he leads me from the hospital.  I’m utterly exhausted, my muscles suddenly feel weary and my eyes droopy. I just want to sleep.

Zeke stops and suddenly he lifts me into his arms, bridal style, and carries me across the car park.

“I can walk,” I protest.

“Yeah, but you’re beat, so you shouldn’t have to.” 

I don’t have it in me to argue, so I rest my head against his solid chest and close my eyes.

***

My eyes crack open and are met with total darkness.  The clock on the bedside table reads 3:03a.m.  I’m wide awake.  I untangle myself from Zeke and plod out into his kitchen to make a drink.

When we left the hospital, I slept the entire drive, only rousing when Zeke lifted me from his ute and carried me inside his unit.  Then, he tenderly undressed me and pulled one of his shirts over my head. 

“Climb into bed, baby,” he told me.  I went willingly, sinking down amongst his pillows and dozing off instantly.

I make myself a cup of tea and sit down at his wooden dining table, bringing my knees up to my chest and resting my head there.  My eyes look, unseeing, out the window as my mind replays the events of today – well,
yesterday
– over and over in my mind.  In particular, I just see myself screaming and falling to the ground as the gunshot rings out.

Needing to distract myself, I pull out my mobile phone and decide to play a game on there.  I enter my passcode and my message icon lights up, indicating I have new voicemails.  I recall the other day having some as well, that I never got to listen to.  So I dial the number and listen.  They all say much the same thing:

“
Sienna, it’s Constable Clarke from Melbourne Police Station.  I’m ringing to inform you Jacob Craye has escaped from where he was being held in Penmore Prison.  I don’t mean to alarm you, however I would recommend you be extra vigilant.  If you could please return my call, it would be appreciate.”

I’m pissed off at myself that I didn’t listen to the voicemails earlier.

How did Jake even know where I was?
  I guess it was no secret.  I thought I was safe because he was locked up.  It wasn’t like I was in hiding and had changed my name.  Hell, all he had to do was log onto social media and he would have found me.  Fuck! I’m such an idiot.  I should have expected something like this from him.

You don’t have to worry now, he’s dead.

Yes, he’s dead.  But, what about Genevieve?  Is she going to come out of all this okay?  What about Skip?  Will he get in trouble?  I know it wouldn’t be classed as murder - at least, I’m
pretty sure
it wouldn’t be.  But what about manslaughter…what if Skip goes to jail?

Oh god, I feel sick.

“There you are,” I hear Zeke say.  His feet hardly make a sound as he walks over to me.  A pair of basketball shorts hang loosely from his hip, but that’s all he’s wearing.  His top half is bare, displaying his sculpted muscles and inked skin.

He crouches down beside me so he’s at my eye level.  “What’s on your mind, darlin’?”

“Nothing.” I swallow hard, trying to keep my rampant emotions in check.

“Babe, I’m not blind.”

I sigh, knowing he won’t give in until I give him something.  “I’m just overthinking, I guess.”

“You wanna share?”

“Not really.”  Even as I say the words, I’m not entirely sure I actually mean them.

He gives me a look that tells me he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“I’m just worried about Skip going to jail.”

“Why would Skip go to jail?”  he asks, perplexed.

“Uh, because he killed someone today.”

“Yeah, he did.  But, it was a clear case of self-defence.  Jake came at him, babe, and wrestled him to the ground.  If Skip didn’t shoot him, Jake would have shot Skip.  Not only that, baby, the police know what sort of scum Jake was and to be honest, it’s just one less piece of shit breathing.”

“I know, but Skip still
killed
him.”

“Why don’t we go down to the station in the morning and have a chat with my buddy, Drew.  He’s a copper and he’ll be able to answer your questions.”

“Okay.”

“Now, come back to bed.  I want to hold you.”

That’s an offer I can’t refuse!

Taking my hand, he helps me up and then leads me back into his bedroom.  He slides in the bed behind me and spoons me, wrapping his strong arms around my middle and tugging me back so my body is flush against his. 

Kissing my shoulder first, he speaks, his lips moving softly against my skin.

“Tell me about Jake?” 

I’m not sure if I want to share.  I never wanted anyone to know about my past, but lying here, in this bed, with Zeke enveloping me, the urge to tell him is overwhelming.

He gives me a squeeze when I stay silent.  “You don’t have to share, darlin’.  I understand.”

“I want to,” I find myself replying quickly.  “I just don’t know where to start.”

“Take your time.”

“He was a good boyfriend, to start with.  Then, one night, he hit me.”  Zeke tenses.  His entire body turning as solid as a rock against me.  He stays still and silent as I recount my story.  All of it.  Right up until the night I found the pictures and called the police.

“Fuck.”  His breath leaves him all at once.  “I wish the cunt was still alive, so
I
could be the one to kill his sorry arse.”

“I was so scared,” I admit.

“Of course you were.”

“Not for me, but for Skip.  For Genevieve.  They’d done nothing to deserve this.”

“Neither did you.”

His words hit home in a big way.  My hand goes over his arm and I give it a squeeze.  My eyes begin to flutter shut and I feel like the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders.  And all he said were three little words.

Neither did you.

I wake when a bolt of pleasure shoots from my nipple throughout my body.  My eyes open lazily and I moan sleepily when Zeke’s rough thumb brushes over my tightened bud again.

He palms my breast, while his thumb continues its idle assault.  The anticipation is driving me crazy.  He’s keeping no rhythm, so I’m just
waiting
for him to move his fingers each time.  It turns me on even more, never knowing when to expect it.  Heat gathers between my legs and I turn my head to face him, craving his kisses.

That’s when I notice his eyes are closed, his long dark lashes fanning his cheeks.  His chest is rising and falling steadily and his plump lips are parted slightly.

He’s asleep?

Fuck, he’s totally asleep.

And I’m so turned on it’s not even funny. 

His thumb swipes over my nipple again and I groan, torn between wanting to wake him up and ravage him, and leaving him to sleep.

I decide to let him sleep, as much as my body is screaming at me to wake him.  As carefully as I can, I try to shuffle over, out of reach so I can go and take a cold shower.

I only move an inch before his fingers tense on my breast and he twists my nipple almost painfully, but
not.
  I whimper and clamp my knees together in an effort to control the throbbing between my legs.

“Where you goin’?”  he asks, his voice husky with sleep.  Before I can answer, he becomes aware of his hand placement.  He gives my boob a playful squeeze and chuckles.  “Sorry, babe.  Can’t control myself when I’m asleep.”

“It’s okay.  I’m going to go have a shower.  You go back to sleep.”

“No, you’re not,” he refutes.  His finger traces the tender flesh around my nipple, sending goose pimples sprouting over my skin.

“Zeke.” My warning is whispered.

He moves, rolling his body on top of mine and shifting my legs apart with his own so he can settle between them.  His head comes down and he kisses me. 
Oh god
, does he kiss me.  His tongue sweeps in, tangling with mine, setting my body on fire in the most delicious way. 

My hips lift up and I’m met with his hardness.  It spurs me on.  Running my hand down the contours of his abs, my fingers dip inside the waistband of his shorts to find his warm, silky smooth, hard cock.  My thumb catches a bead of moisture from the head, so I swirl it around and pump up and down a few times.  He thrusts gently into my hand, all the while making love to my mouth.

I tug his shorts down over his arse and murmur, “Please, Zeke.”

“Fuckin’ want you so bad, Sienna,” he growls, ripping his mouth from mine.  He trails wet kisses down my neck and under the collar of his shirt before getting agitated with the restriction.  I giggle when he goes up on his knees to tear the shirt from my body, tossing it across the room.  He settles back on top of me and resumes his sensual attack on my body. 

My back arches when his tongue comes in contact with my breast.  He tugs my nipples into his mouth.

“Zeke,” I cry out as he changes breasts, paying them equal attention.  He starts to drift further, but I need more.  I need him. 
All
of him.

“Zeke, please.  Fuck me.  I need you,” I keen, grasping his head to stop his downward intentions.  He looks at my left side and notices the small bruise there.  The energy in the room turns electric before he bends down and kisses the spot gently.

To be honest, it’s not even really sore right now, just a little stiff.

I go to bring his head up again to tell him what I need, but he doesn’t need to be told twice.  He reaches into his bedside table and pulls out a condom, before rolling it on.  I look down to catch a glimpse of his impressive length and my mouth waters as my stomach clenches.

“Hurry,” I tell him urgently.

Cupping my face in his hands, he kisses me slowly while sinking deep inside me in one continuous thrust.  My breath catches in my throat as the feeling of fullness overwhelms me.

As he withdraws, his cock drags against my nerves in the most sublime way and I find myself whimpering softly.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good.”

“Faster, honey.”

He heeds my demands, speeding up his thrusts so his pelvis jars against my clit with every forward motion.  My fingertips dig into his shoulders as I climb higher and higher in our pursuit of ecstasy.

“Harder,” I cry out, loving the pleasure he’s giving me.

“Demanding little minx, aren’t you,” he growls, before complying with my request.

The burn in my womb starts to rage out of control until I’m crying out against his flesh, my teeth sinking into his shoulder and my nails clawing his back.

“I’m gonna come,” I pant.

“Come, baby.  Squeeze my fuckin’ dick.  Milk me,” he rumbles, his voice raw, deep and throaty, full of passion.

My body seizes and then shudders as ripples of pleasure overcome me.  My inner walls clamp down on his cock, pulsating around him.

With a drawn out groan, he pumps into me one last time and stills before his cock throbs deep inside me.

After disposing of the condom, Zeke leans down and braces himself on his fists, positioned near my shoulders.  He kisses me soundly and then informs me we need a shower.

Who am I to disagree?