The Wild One (10 page)

Also, there was the problem of what happened the night before. She doubted the nightmares would conveniently take a night off, but she didn’t dare try pacing around the house like one of the ghosts of girlfriends past again. She couldn’t bear the thought of embarrassing herself like she had the last time with Andrew.

So after the campfire circle broke up, she made the trek out to the hay barn. There she curled up with a blanket she’d requested from the front desk and the new book she’d bought along with her clothes at the general store.

The romance novel was just what she needed, a very simple story with a sweet Amish girl and no chance of any blazing hot sex scenes to remind her of what happened with Andrew that morning.

Soon her eyes drifted closed and…

Steve Kass was staring up at her with blood streaming from his mouth, nose, and eye sockets.

She sat up with a gasp, only to find the barn now bathed in moonlight.

And Andrew Sinclair standing in the doorway.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” she asked him. She was breathing hard, and Andrew had to wonder if it was because she’d had a nightmare or because he’d frightened her with his sudden appearance.

“I think the question is what are
you
doing here?” he asked.

She seemed to think about that but then screwed up her face in that way of hers and answered, “No, I’m pretty sure my original question still stands.”

Again with that uncharacteristic sass. The Layla he remembered would already be apologizing all over the place for not leaving a note and for sleeping in his barn without permission. Again. Not only did this new version of Layla not apologize, but she was also looking at him like he should be the one apologizing.

“Why weren’t you at the house?” he asked her.

“I thought it would be better if I slept out here,” she said.

“Why did you think that?”

“Because I didn’t want to keep you up all night again with my pacing,” she answered carefully, like he was a psycho for even asking the question in the first place.

“Layla,” he said. Then he bit off angrily, before continuing. “I don’t like the way you make me feel.”

She stood up and looked at him with real curiosity in her eyes. “I wasn’t aware I made you feel anything.”

“Bullshit. You have to know. You’re lying.”

Again with that careful look, like she was running every word through some kind of check before she opened her mouth. “I’m getting that you don’t like me and for some reason I irritate the hell out of you and you’d rather not be around me and probably wish I never came here in the first place.” Her voice broke on the last sentence. “And believe me, I’m really wishing the same thing right now.”

“Then why did you come here?” he asked her.

“I told you, I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” she answered.

“Bullshit,” he said again. “Everybody loves you. You’ve got friends all over the country. That girl from Texas who married Alexei Romanov? He’s a billionaire. He could have stashed you some place where Nathan never would have found you.”

She looked a little confused, like this line of reasoning really hadn’t occurred to her.

He came to stand directly in front of her, so close he could feel the tension emanating off her body, like she was fighting hard within herself to stand her ground and not turn tail and run. “Are you saying to me it never occurred to you to try to ask Alexei Romanov for help?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” she answered.

“Why didn’t it occur to you?’

She shook her head, her brown eyes sad in the moonlight. “I’m not sure how you want me to answer that.”

He stepped even closer, so close he could feel her breasts against his chest. “I want you to say you came here for me.”

Her bottom lip trembled, but she didn’t look away this time. “If you want me to say it, I’ll say it. I came here for you,” she whispered.

He brought his head closer so that his lips were hovering right above hers. “I want you to say that you came all over my dick this morning, because you wanted to fuck me, not because you thought you were in bed with Nathan.”

“I told you that already,” she said.

“Tell me again.”

“I…“ she paused, as if gathering up the courage to say what she did next. “I did what I did this morning because I wanted you. Not Nathan. You, even though I know you have a girlfriend.”

“I broke up with Amy,” he said.

“What?” she said, her eyes widening.

“That’s why I didn’t come back for dinner. She was upset. It took a while for her to calm down and I had to keep explaining and re-explaining everything to her.”

“What did you tell her?” Layla asked, her voice a near whisper.

“At first I tried to tell her the usual. It wasn’t her, it was me. I just didn’t think I should be in a relationship with her right now. I tried not to hurt her feelings. But she’s not dumb. She asked me if there was somebody else and you know I don’t lie anymore. I told her I didn’t want to cheat on her or disrespect her in any way and that was why I was leaving.

“She guessed it was you. I suppose it was easy, considering our history. Then there were a bunch more questions. How could I after you chose your brother over me? And what would I do if you and Nathan got back together? Then she wanted to know what you had that she didn’t?’

“And what did you say,” she asked.

“I didn’t say anything.” He pressed against her, so her back was at a haystack. “I just let her keep on asking questions. I didn’t tell her how I didn’t mind waiting until marriage with her, but how I can barely control myself when you walk into a room. I didn’t tell her how I want you more in these hiking boots and jeans than I ever wanted her in her pretty little sundresses. I didn’t tell her how all I’ve been thinking about is fucking you since you came to the ranch. I didn’t tell her about you coming all over me this morning or how it made me so crazy, I nearly fucked you right there without a condom, girlfriend or not. I just told her I couldn’t be her boyfriend anymore.”

Then Andrew pressed her against one of the barn’s walls and did what he’d been aching to do for three long days now. He kissed the hell out of Layla Matthews.

CHAPTER 12

TO
Roxxy, it felt like Andrew was doing nothing less than reaching inside of her and kissing her down to her very soul. This kiss stripped her of every ounce of cool she’d carefully cultivated over the years and turned her into the clueless teenager she’d been before the clothes and makeup and the voice coach and PR agents.

Andrew’s kiss made her feel awkward, like she wanted something from him, wanted it so much, but didn’t know how to go about getting it.

She fumbled badly with the buttons of his shirt, only to have him tear it open with one yank and then pull her t-shirt over her head and undo her bra so quickly, she wondered if he’d laid out an action plan for how he was going to strip her naked before he came out to barn.

“It can’t be like when we were in college,” he said, covering her neck with kisses. “I can’t give you time or wait for you to be comfortable with us like I did last time. Oh God, Layla, I want to fuck you so bad. I want to feel your naked pussy all over my cock…”

He unbuttoned her pants. And suddenly his long dick was nestled inside her panties, rubbing against her wet folds and making it so she didn’t know if the liquid she was feeling between them was his pre-cum or her own raging need.

“Please tell me you’re on birth control.”

Finally something she didn’t have to lie about. “I am,” she said, silently thanking her mother for convincing her to get an IUD to help with her heavy periods when she turned twenty-five.

He kissed her hard and long again, his cock rubbing into her pussy so deliciously, she was afraid she’d humiliate herself by coming all over it again. “Invite me in,” he said against her lips.

“What?” she asked.

“I want an invitation. I want you to understand that you, Layla Matthews, are inviting me, Andrew Sinclair, to fuck you but good.”

Again, Roxxy was not a virgin, but she might as well have been the way her cheeks warmed under this command. “Please have sex with me, Andrew. You’re invited in.”

He stroked the side of her face with his knuckles. “You’re lucky I’m so hot for you right now,” he said with grave seriousness. “Next time I’m going to make you ask a hell of a lot nicer than that.”

Before she could question what “nicer” would entail, he was inside her. And then he was pounding her wet pussy so hard with one hand pressed into her clit, she felt her eyes roll backwards.

And the feelings! They were so intense, she couldn’t hold on for long. “Oh God, Andrew! I’m coming.”

“No, stay with me,” he said, removing his hand and slowing down, so he was rolling up into her, thrusting into her hard, but without enough clitoral stimulation for her to come.

“I want you feel this with me,” he said against her ear. “Feel how hard my cock is inside your pussy. Feel how bad I want you? I want you to feel it.”

She definitely felt it. It was like he had her filled up so perfectly, if he wanted to spend the next fifty years cruising inside her like this, she’d die knowing she’d lived a life of total bliss.

Or at least she thought she wouldn’t mind a slower pace. Soon her body made it clear it needed more from Andrew, more than even this.

“Andrew, please,” she said. “I need you. I need you to really fuck me. I’m so close.”

This seemed to galvanize him. The lazy cowboy disappeared and soon he was pounding into her again with double the force of the first time. All it took was for him to dig two fingers into the folds of her pussy and she exploded, so bright and loud, she pushed him over the edge too.

He let out a keening sigh, then released inside her, flooding her with his seed. Only when he seemed to be completely empty did he stop moving and fall against her, his body heavy and satisfied.

He gave her a lopsided smile. “Sweetheart, I don’t think we’re going to make it all the way back to the house tonight.”

Lying curled up on four hay bales with Andrew shouldn’t have made for the most comfortable night of sleep she’d had in Montana so far, but somehow it did. Her dreams weren’t plagued by strange images. In fact, she didn’t dream at all, just slept more peacefully then she had in years, curled up in Andrew’s arms.

And she would have stayed like that for hours more, except they were awakened at what felt like the crack of dawn by a heavy pounding on the door.

They both came awake with a start. But while Roxxy was still trying to push through the fog to figure out what was going on, Andrew was already shoving her clothes at her.

“Put these on,” he mumbled. Then he re-buckled up his own jeans and cracked open the barn door.

“Sorry to bother you, boss,” she heard one of the ranch hands say.

Before he could finish, a pot-bellied man pushed past the hand and came storming into the barn.

“What’s this all about, Joe?” Andrew asked.

“You’re not dating my daughter anymore, Sinclair. You can call me Sheriff Thompson.”

He eyed Roxxy, who had just managed to get her shirt over her head and pull her jeans up, with obvious contempt. “So this is who you dumped her for?”

Andrew folded his arms. “I’m assuming you wouldn’t be on my ranch, in my town, unless you had a good reason, so I suggest you start talking now.”

“Well, we just found a dead body at the Ride ‘Em Cowboy Motel with a phone, a phone it seems you’ve called several times in the past few days.” Sherriff Thompson seemed almost gleeful when he said, “So I’m going to need you to come with me back to the station and answer some questions.”

CHAPTER 13

“
GUESS
what I’m doing right now,” said the D.A. in lieu of a hello when he got on the phone. “I’m putting your name on a list. It’s a very special list, I’ve labeled, ‘The List of Idiots Who Are Obviously Looking to Get Killed Because They Refuse to Follow Instructions.’”

Roxxy pursed her lips. After her last scolding, it had taken her a while to drum up the nerve to call the D.A.’s office again, especially from the landline in her room. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that the dead body at the motel had something to do with Mr. Kass. “I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important.”

“Let me guess, your host forgot to include lumps of sugar with the tea service,” the D.A. said.

“No, sir, it really is important this time. My host just got arrested by the Buellton police in connection with a dead body they found at the Ride ‘Em Cowboy Motel. I’m afraid the body might belong to him.”

The D.A. cursed. “Hold on.”

He put her on hold for a long time, over thirty minutes, but Roxxy stayed on the line. She was too anxious to let a long wait keep her from finding out what was going on. Still, she was almost ready to hang up and try calling back, when the D.A. abruptly came back on the line.

“Unfortunately, it looks like it was our guy,” he said, his voice considerably more grim than when he’d first answered the phone. “And it looks like he might have been poisoned. The local police found two cups of tea next to the microwave. But it was a brand we’d never heard of before, couldn’t even find it online. Something called ‘Ras Jonny’s Special Mix.’ Sound familiar?”

Roxxy gasped. “That’s the special tea Dexter makes for me. He gets it from a Jamaican herbalist in the Bronx where he lives.”

“So you think Dexter gave him the tea, maybe intending it for you to drink it? Or the both of you?”

Roxxy did remember overhearing Dex tell Mr. Kass that under no circumstance should she made to drink alone, but…“No! Dexter is my friend. One of my few true friends, he’d never—”

“I don’t have the stats in front of me, but do know how many stalking cases end up being completely anonymous. Very few. Usually it’s somebody close to the victim. Think about it. How much do you really know about this Dexter?”

She did think about it, and unfortunately she didn’t come up with much. She knew Dex was gay, but other than that, he was notoriously close-lipped about his private life, which he couldn’t have much of since he made himself available twenty-four-seven to act as her one-man security force.