Unleashed: Volume 1 (Unleashed #1)

Copyright © 2016 Callie
Harper

Cover
Design Jada D’Lee Designs

Ebook
Formatting by Jesse Gordon

All
rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to
real events, people, or places is entirely coincidental. All rights
reserved. This book may not be reproduced or distributed in any
format without the permission except in the case of brief quotations
used for review. If you have not purchased this book or received a
copy from the author, you are reading a pirated book.

The
author acknowledges the trademarked status of products referred to in
this book and acknowledges that trademarks have been used without
permission.

This
book contains mature content, including graphic sex. Please do not
continue reading if you are under the age of 18 or if this type of
content is disturbing to you.

• PROLOGUE
  
• CHAPTER 1
  
• CHAPTER 2
  
• CHAPTER 3
  
• CHAPTER 4
  
• CHAPTER 5
  
• CHAPTER 6
  
• CHAPTER 7
  
• CHAPTER 8
  
• CHAPTER 9
  
• UNLEASHED: HOT ALPHA ROMANCE, VOL. 2
  
• ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  
• CONTACT
  

Kara

Six
Years Back

That night it rained.
It had been so hot and so dry for so long I’d almost forgotten that
it could. We’d all been waiting, watching, hoping for a while now.
You didn’t live off the land in Montana without realizing you were
at the mercy of Mother Nature.

I felt at the mercy of
a lot of things lately. Waiting, watching, hoping. Not just for the
rain. For Declan Hunt.

My father hired him to
work on our ranch over the busy spring and summer. The first time I
saw him, I swear it was like the earth stopped spinning on its axis.
Strong jaw, broad shoulders, and a big old belt buckle on those slim
hips. He’d looked at me with dark, smoldering eyes, his cowboy hat
tipped down low, and I’d just about forgotten to breathe.

He barely noticed me,
though. I was just a high school kid, the daughter of the boss man.
But I hoped I could do something about that. I was 18 and had just
graduated. Not a kid anymore.

But so far he’d
hardly looked my way, even when I strutted around in short shorts and
tank tops. Hell, I’d even washed my truck in front of him,
deliberately lathering things up nice and slow, sloshing myself good
with soapy water in my Daisy Dukes and bikini top. Nothing. I’d
been trapped in a long, hot, dry spell.

But that night it
rained. It caught me by surprise. Seven o’clock, Daddy and I had
finished supper and I’d boxed up some leftovers for old Bill. He’d
been working on our ranch as long as I could remember. A cranky, old
bachelor, he never asked for a single thing, but he sure appreciated
my homemade roasted chicken when I gave it to him.

I didn’t make it down
to his cabin, didn’t even make it to the big old barn before the
deluge began. Like mischievous cherubs had been waiting up in the
clouds, giggling and shushing each other until they all-at-once
upturned their filled buckets on the unsuspecting people below.
Soaked in a heart-stopping instant, I started running, my flip-flops
slipping and squashing in the mud.

I ducked into the barn,
shocked, drenched, exhilarated, and stood there in the dark watching
out the window. All hell breaking loose on us, just when we’d least
expected.

I didn’t realize he
was there, too, standing in the shadows. Until he took a step forward
into the dim light filtering through the window. I started at his
presence, gasping and bringing my hand up to my chest.

“Takes your breath
away, doesn’t it?” His deep, rumbling tones, the sexy hush of his
voice, I knew what took my breath away and it wasn’t outside,
violent though that might be. Nothing raged stronger than the storm
brewing inside me for Declan.

“You’re all wet.”
He drew closer and damn if he didn’t describe me in more ways than
one. In the shadows, the lines of his cheekbones, the strong cut of
his chin, the hollow of his neck all stood out like an artist’s
sketch. I could smell him there in the darkness, so virile and male.
I could feel his heat, too, radiating off of him, drawing me to him
as I started to shiver.

“You cold?” he
whispered. I bit my lip and nodded yes, accepting that as my cover
story. Shaking because of the cold. Not because he was so close to
me, in the dark, the way I’d wanted for months now. My
overprotective father wasn’t there to find us, neither were the
other ranch hands. Just us, alone, in the shadows.

He brought his large
hand to my shoulder, the touch of his palm felt so electric I drew in
my breath, quick, my eyes widening. He seemed to feel it too, this
charge between us, his eyes fixed at the spot where he touched me,
his skin against my skin, flesh against flesh. My breathing started
coming faster, shallow.

With one finger, just
one, he traced a line across my shoulder up over to the strap of my
tank top. It was a skimpy one, the kind of thing I’d taken to
wearing in the pathetic hope I’d catch his eye. But he’d never
looked my way before. I’d seen him around town a few times with
girls who looked like they ran a lot wilder than me. Most did, I
guessed. A sheltered little daddy’s girl like me, I didn’t
exactly have a wealth of experience under my belt. And I’d never
felt the urge, the impulse to get it.

Until now.

The feel of his finger,
thick and calloused from hard work, powerful as he toyed with my
strap. It felt so flimsy in his grasp, as if he could tear it right
off of me.

“What are you
wearing?” he asked, his voice harsh and strained. I squirmed,
nervous, shy and aroused.

“A tank top,” I
managed, self-conscious under his scrutiny. Why was he asking? Did he
not like it? Did he think I looked dumb?

He made a sound low in
his throat, almost like a growl, and in two steps he had me up
against the wooden barn wall, the planks rough on the bare skin of my
back. He pinned me there, one hand at my shoulder, one at my hip. His
gaze fixed on my chest, wet from the rain, illuminated by the fading
dusk light of the window.

“Fuck,” he swore as
if angry, frustrated, furious about something. I didn’t know what
was happening, what he meant. I couldn’t think. All I could do was
feel, his strength, the firm, commanding grip of his hands on me,
pinning me down, holding me right where he wanted me.

“Declan?” His name
came out of my lips, half-question, half-plea. So close, I could see
the stubble along his chin, his full, sensual mouth in the dim light.
He licked his lips, as if seeing something delicious he wanted to
bite right into. A shiver tingled down my spine.

“You’re soaked.”
His voice sounded strangled with need as he stared at my heaving
chest. I followed his gaze and saw what he was fixated on: every inch
of me revealed to him, the thin cotton of my top soaked through, the
light gauzy lace of my bra offering no cover. My breasts were on full
display, the fabric plastered to them, outlining, highlighting, and
my nipples were hard as rocks. The swollen tips pushed out urgent,
erotic, begging for him.

“Why’d you come in
here, Kara?” he growled, not taking his eyes off of me, holding me,
pressing me there. He kept his body tight, coiled, tension lacing
through him as if he were trying to hold himself back.

“I… it started
raining.” I squirmed under his stare. Heat stole through me,
flooding my senses, starting to build between my legs, my sex growing
slick. “I needed shelter.”

“You came in here to
get shelter.” He repeated my words as if finding them ironic,
wickedly funny. Dipping his head lower, he dropped in close, his
mouth so near to my skin. He scented me like an animal, drinking me
in, filling his lungs as if he could sustain himself on that alone.
The feel of his breath against my bare throat made me start to pant.

“You thought you’d
found someplace safe.” His voice mesmerized me, low, and dangerous.
His lips traveled the length of my throat, so close to my skin, but
not touching. Then, so slowly, such a light whisper of a touch, he
flicked out his tongue to taste. He pressed it against my skittering,
racing pulse, licking me there. It almost felt as if he were marking
me.

I gasped. His tongue
felt so teasing, so irresistible. Unable to stop myself from
responding, I tilted my chin back, baring my throat for him.

“Instead, you found
me,” he said, gruff. In an instant, his mouth was on me, hot and
full down around my breast.

“Ah!” I cried out,
eyes closing, engulfed in sensation as his mouth claimed me, sucking,
licking me right through my shirt, heated and wet on my shivering
breast. Finding my sensitive, aching nipple he sucked, hard, bringing
his teeth down lightly, right on the tip. A jolt of pleasure and pain
rocketed directly to my pussy, and I gasped, clutching his shoulder.

At my other breast, he
sucked, licked, his large, rough hands up to cup and massage,
bringing my tip right into his mouth where he enclosed it in his
heat.

“Oh! Declan!” I
cried out as he teased me, licking, trailing his tongue in a circle
around my nipple, not touching it, not giving me what I needed.
“Declan!” I nearly screamed, until he closed his hot mouth
directly over my aching bud, pulling it hard between his teeth,
harder than last time. The intensity of it shocked me, how bad and
good it felt all at once.

I smacked my head back
against the wall, mouth open, eyes closed, my breasts in his hands,
in his mouth, ready for all of it, everything, anything he wanted to
give me. I’d wanted him for so long, so much, I couldn’t believe
it was finally happening. He was finally touching me, here, in the
dark, just us, the way I’d wanted. The way I’d fantasized about
late at night, touching myself, guilty and secret in my bed, coming
with his name on my lips. Now it wasn’t a fantasy, it was really
happening, and it was so much better than I’d ever imagined.

But just as suddenly as
he was on me, he pulled away. I lost his warmth, his power. The
flames consuming me turned cold.

“Get out of here,”
he barked, striding back into the shadowy depths of the barn.

“What?” I asked,
breathless. He couldn’t be telling me to leave. “Declan?”

“Now!” he bellowed,
leaving no room for questions, no opening for discussion. Commanding,
firm. Brutal.

Tears burning my eyes,
I did as I was told, the leftover roasted chicken forgotten on the
floor, my feet somehow finding their way back up the hill. Crushed, I
was unable to forget his heat, or the coldness in his abrupt
dismissal.

But up in my room, I
made up my mind. We still had a whole summer ahead of us, a summer of
nights, dark and hidden and hot. Somehow I was going to find my way
to him again. Now that I’d felt his passion, the way he wanted me
just like I wanted him, I didn’t care what obstacles we faced. I
knew we were meant to be together.

Kara

Present
day

I strode down the city
sidewalk in my cowboy boots, powered by a mixture of adrenaline, fear
and something else I didn’t want to admit. It felt too much like
excitement. Arousal. I swallowed in anticipation. I was about to see
Declan, the man who’d made me pant with need. The man who’d
broken my heart.

I hadn’t seen him in
six years. Not since that summer when I’d thrown myself all in,
wide-eyed and naive, no idea what kind of pain lay before me. Now I
knew. What reason did I have now for going to see him? I should know
better. You stuck your hand on a hot stovetop once, people felt
sympathetic. You stuck your hand on the same damn heat a second time
around and people just looked the other way. You had only yourself to
blame.

Three blocks to go to
his office building in Billings. I’d parked a ways away, knowing I
could use a walk to stretch my legs and calm my nerves. I’d been
driving for hours, four and a half to be exact. Montana was a big
state and our ranch was way out in the middle of nowhere, exactly
where I liked it. Here in Billings my boot heels made a sharp,
clipped sound against the concrete, not like the dirt and grass of
home.

I would never be here
if I weren’t desperate. Bankrupt was the technical term. If I had
somewhere else to turn, I’d be there. Never in my wildest dreams
could I have imagined doing this, seeking out the man who’d fed my
teenage heart into a paper shredder and throwing myself at his mercy.