Her First Ride (Innocent Series Book 7)

by Kendall Duke

  “What are you thinking about?” She glanced up at me from under those thick eyelashes, and I sighed.

  “A couple different things. I wish… I wish we’d met under different circumstances, Sierra Davenport.”

  “Like what circumstances?” She was dodging going to bed. Did that mean she was really curious, or something else? The image of her when she first walked into the office popped back in my head, and a little bit of common sense interfered with my day-dreams.

  “Sierra, why are you really moving to Idaho?”

  “What do you mean?” Yep. Something was off. Sierra Davenport of the beautiful, glossy long locks with matching violet and deep brown eyes was definitely on the run. She stood up straight and folded her hands in her sweatshirt’s broad pocket, her face suddenly, carefully, suspiciously blank.

  “Damn. Did you rob a bank or something? Nothing showed up on the wire,” I told her, but she only gave me a glimmer of a smile as she shook her head. Seeing her pull away from our connection physically hurt, almost as if she yanked on a rope she’d somehow woven through my rib cage while I wasn’t looking. “Sierra. Seriously. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” she said, but when her lip trembled I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out to hold her… And to my surprise, she let me pull her close. I tucked her head under my chin and wrapped my arms around her, feeling her for the first time. The supple curves I knew were hiding under her loose clothes made me wince as my body responded immediately to their soft pressure, because I didn’t actually want to seduce her—well, not right now. For once. I didn’t even really know what I was doing—I wasn’t the guy I used to be, and that guy would’ve headed straight for the bed, no questions and no worries. But I wasn’t the guy I’d been for the last two years, either, and I hadn’t been from the first moment I saw Sierra. She woke me up—this was a new me, a guy I didn’t know yet. A part of me that grew into a whole person while I was hiding from the world, someone with a hungrier and fiercer heart than I had before. Someone that desperately wanted to help this woman—this woman, in particular. I buried my face in her glossy chestnut hair and inhaled, then moved so my cheek was touching the fine strands and I knew she could hear me. “Sierra, I promise—whatever it is, we can figure it out,” I told her, and I felt the truth of my promise down to my bones.

  “Nothing can help,” she whispered, “but leaving.”

  I pulled her tighter.

  Whatever the hell was chasing her was about to meet their match, because if I had anything to say about it, she wasn’t going anywhere.

  And that was that.

  ~~~

  Sierra

  I missed my dad.

  It was a strange thought to have, because five minutes before this moment I was thinking something very, very different. Something reckless, maybe even strange: I’m going to give my virginity to Deputy Sebastian Miguel Redhorse Walsh tonight. I’ve been waiting my whole life to meet someone that made me feel like he did, and even if the circumstances are terrible and I’m leaving tomorrow, I’m doing it. I want to do this.

  Because it didn’t feel reckless or strange to want him; it felt right. All the jokes about him stealing my car aside, I could’ve given his crotchety old uncle a kiss on the cheek for setting this up—and I knew for damn sure he had. The sly old dog. He heard the words ‘burn unit,’ could immediately tell that I had no personal ties to Idaho, and sent me on a blind date. The thing was, he did me a favor—but not Sebastian. I had nothing to lose from a whirlwind romance, but Sebastian might. He had a lot to figure out, a difficult recovery that he was still sorting through, and a new career in a new place that he still hadn’t settled in to… He had a lot more important things to do than baby-sit a girl that appeared, for all intents and purposes, to have just moseyed her way through a cross-country trip that could have ended in disaster.

  I didn’t want him to think of me as the girl that ran away.

  I wanted him to think of me as recklessly brave, even if that wasn’t true either; at least it was attractive. I wanted him to think of me laughing at his jokes without a care in the world, because he really did erase the things that made me scared or sad. I wanted him to look at me and feel like we would have fun together, not like I needed to be saved and protected because I couldn’t do it myself.

  I was trying to. I was trying to protect who I loved, to do the right thing—and I was terrified of failing.

  So I understood some of his grief, too.

  But my tragedy was still playing out, and the predominant emotion I dealt with wasn’t grief, thank goodness… It was fear.

  “I don’t want to tell you,” I whispered, and to my horror a tear slid down my cheek. I turned my face into his chest, feeling the wall of muscle there through his shirt as I let him pull me closer. He felt so good. I’d never felt that before either—there was just so much of him. His arms wrapped all the way around me, just like I knew they would; they could reach everything from right here, all the sensitive parts that blazed with heat as soon as his dark eyes locked on mine and teased me, even the slightest bit. The things that mouth could do, and they’d never even been near my own. I was damp below and hard above, my breasts peaked beneath my bra even as I shivered with the reminder of my fears bleating in my brain. Some part of me was reassured just by his closeness, his proximity. He smelled like the wind, like the wild dust and trees and flowers and sky and water and endless roads of Montana. He smelled like freedom and safety all at once. I inhaled him and felt my heartbeat slow down, my body automatically calming itself with his scent.

  “Let’s go in the bedroom,” he said, and I looked up at him, startled. His lips were only inches away; they were full, a cute little divot in the center of the upper one, his lower one plump and lush. I felt myself falling into those dark eyes, wondering if he was really thinking the same thing I was. He seemed to read something in my glance, and gently unwrapped his arms from my shoulders; I shivered, instantly wishing he would return. But Sebastian reached down and used one broad, calloused finger to lift my chin so that we were face to face again. His expression was deliberate, his gaze steady. “Sierra… I just want to talk, tonight. I want you to tell me what’s going on.”

  “You wouldn’t rather… Be distracted?”

  He sucked in a breath. I saw a million things flash in those beautiful, dark eyes—desire, red hot and crackling with lust, and then a smooth polish of knowing wisdom as he shook his head again. “I would, actually. I’d rather do things to you that make Idaho seem like a terrible idea. But I also like you a lot, and if I did those things, you might not like me as much tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, biting my lip as I looked up at him. “I might like you more.”

  “Jesus, girl,” Sebastian whispered, and I could hear a rumble in the back of his throat that told me how deep that desire ran. “You’re trouble, Sierra Davenport,” he growled, and that was the only warning I got before he kissed me—and it was perfect. Sebastian’s lips sank into mine, fierce as the flash of heat in his eyes. One hand slid over my hips, pulling my body against his as the other one tilted my head back, my mouth opening as he surged into me, tasting me with his tongue. When he drew back I was panting. I’d never felt anything like this before.

  “Sebastian…” I blinked, wondering what to tell him. Nothing? Everything? I’d been kissed before, but it never felt like that. It was just a kiss—not even a very long one, just a little heated kiss… And I felt like my entire body was pulsing with fire. This couldn’t be normal.

  “So that’s what you’re going to call me,” he said, running a broad hand over my cheek, tracing my eyebrows, my cheekbones. When the wide pad of his thumb ran over my bottom lip I had to strain to keep myself from sucking it. His clever eyes scanned me everywhere, as if he were searching for something. “No Bass for you, huh?”

  “No,” I said, and he nodded, kissing my forehead and pushing me back just a little bit so he could guide me towards the bedroom.


  “Well, when we get married we’ll have to talk about that,” he said, towing me behind him, “since we’ll apparently be changing your name too, being that you’re on the lam and all.” He plopped me down next to him on the edge of the bed, and we sat side by side. Sebastian pulled my hand into his lap, cradling it between two of his; it made mine look like a child’s, it was so small in comparison. “This is where you make a joke, or call me a name—not Bass, but something else. Maybe Butthead.”

  “Not calling you that, either,” I mumbled, but he reached up and lifted my head with his hand, cradling my cheekbone down to my jaw in his huge palm. His long fingers ran back into my hair, loosening my ponytail. I probably looked as crazy as I felt.

  “Out with it,” he said softly. The dark fire in his eyes scanned me mercilessly, and I found myself wondering what expression would be on his face if he was looking at me like that when I was naked. I’d never been fully unclothed in front of anyone before, but suddenly… The thought of being that vulnerable with him felt so right, so sensual, that my nipples hardened inside of my bra again. Would he like me? Where would he put his mouth? “I thought you were the blunt one.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, glaring at him. “I want to have sex with you instead—how’s that for blunt?”

  “Jesus,” he muttered, staring down at me. “Do you have any idea what kind of effect you have?” His eyes became hooded as he allowed them to roam over me, and sure enough, my body responded immediately. A flood of damp crept over my thighs, begging for his attention. I felt my back arch spontaneously, as if one of his big, heated fingertips were running down my spine. “You better be careful, Sierra, or I might give you what you’re asking for.”

  “I feel like I might have an effect on you, although I doubt it could possibly be the same as the effect you have on me,” I told him, then bit my lip and looked down at my lap. I knew this was true; he wasn’t the one begging to have sex with me. I didn’t like the flash of humility that quieted my libido, but all the same—no meant no. I needed to calm myself down… Right? We were quiet for a long moment, and then he tilted my head back again, making me meet his gaze.

  “You can flatter me all you want, Sierra Davenport, and I promise to let you, and maybe I’ll even consider this very tempting offer once I know for sure you’re not either in immediate danger or up to no good—because from the way that you’re acting I honestly can’t tell which it might be. It’s amazing how someone that’s such a straight shooter can bluff so well. You should give up occupational therapy and become a poker player.”

  “I didn’t know I was supposed to tell you,” I shot back, “considering the very questionable way we met.” My feelings were a little hurt, and so was my pride. As soon as his hand made contact with my skin, that electric current of desire raced through every nerve in my body, flaring up with a fire that made me want to beg. And there he was, kind, calm, cool and collected. Damn him.

  Sebastian gently but firmly reached over and swung my hips so that I had to face him, turning me so that one of my legs dangled over the edge of the bed and the other one folded at the knee—but at least it was touching his hip. I worried that he could smell the scent of my desire; my thighs were apart, now, and my body was close enough that I knew it was possible. I could feel myself blushing as I studied the bedsheet and felt the ambivalent mix of emotions inside of me—the rush of need as I enjoyed the intimacy of our position, clustered together like a pair of close friends or lovers; the pain of embarrassment as I revealed that I wasn’t as brave as I probably seemed. Or as fun and impulsive and interesting. I was very ordinary, and very sad at the moment, actually, when I wasn’t with him.

  “You weren’t supposed to tell me, back then,” he said, and our faces were only inches away from one another as he leaned down and rested his forehead against mine. I inhaled the scent of his breath; crisp, autumn air, fresh cut grass, and wind. Always the wind. “We were strangers. But this is now. This is when I’m holding your hand, and worrying about you. This is when I want to be inside of you so bad I’m not sure I’ll make it out of this room, no matter what good intentions I had coming in to it. This is when I want you, Sierra, when I haven’t wanted anything in years.” His lips were only inches from mine. “Tell me you can stay here. Be with me. And if you can’t, you have to tell me why.”

  A million things ran through my mind: he wanted me to stay. He wanted to be with me—not just be inside of me, not just use me and be used by me, not just one night and done… Sebastian liked me. Really liked me.

  And in spite of the fact that I hadn’t revealed why I was traveling in the first place, and we’d only just met… Sebastian knew a side of me no one else did, either. Sebastian might know more about me than the people I left behind, the ones I worked so hard to protect, to shield, to keep from knowing how frightened and vulnerable I felt—he’d sensed those things, even though I hid them. He knew me in spite of myself. All of the easy things: the laughter, the bluntness, even, the person that worked in the medical field and had a brother that inspired her and was cheerful and did the job right even when it was difficult. He knew all that. And he knew I was afraid. I wasn’t invulnerable. I needed help.

  I needed him.

  I didn’t answer his question because we started kissing again—I couldn’t stop myself when I looked up at those beautiful dark eyes, framed by that perfect caramel skin, his full bottom lip caught between his teeth and then I imagined those teeth on my shoulder and I just, I couldn’t stop myself--and once we started kissing, I lost time.

  I have never felt like that before—so wild, so desperate to be touched and to touch. I’ve never wanted to taste someone like that, to feel the way we fit together, to force ourselves into one single body, a creature made of heat and sweat and pure desire. Nothing existed in my mind during that kiss, nothing but my fingers in windswept black hair, then tracing over skin, some of it soft, some of it rough, some of it stubbled, always pulling, pulling him into the kiss, deeper and deeper. Nothing existed but the taste and feel of Sebastian. When I finally came up for air, I was straddling his lap, my sweatshirt was gone, my hair was down, and I could feel a hard length pressing against me from below so thick and firm I almost thought it was his leg—but it wasn’t. My whole body throbbed with need… I felt my back arch almost against my will, pressing my swollen pussy lips down on the massive cock that must be lurking inside of his uniform. Sebastian gently pushed back, rolling his own hips as his hands settled on mine, guiding me towards ecstasy as the friction of our bodies thrummed through my torso and I moaned, my head falling back as the feel of him pushed me to the edge. I fell forward, and Sebastian kissed my throat, then his full lips traced my collarbones, the skin of my chest, oh my God, his hands were sliding under my shirt, heated fingertips caressing my skin—

  “Goddamnit,” he muttered, and abruptly pulled back, ripping the feel of his palms from my desperate body and using his hands to support his long torso as he leaned away from me onto the bed. I was still balancing on his legs, could still feel him below me, but my upper body was bereft. I was sitting there in a skimpy t-shirt, my bra just visible through the thin fabric; my nipples were so hard that you could see them through both layers, hard as pebbles on the tip of my breasts. I hadn’t had any intention of taking my sweatshirt off earlier in the day, but here I was--hopefully it tortured him just a little.

  Maybe more than a little.

  “Out with it,” he growled. “I have things I need to do Sierra—things I apparently must do, that involve you and that goddamn purple bra. So let’s get this out of the way. What the hell is this story?”

  “Don’t you want—”

  “Of course I do,” he said, his eyes hardening. “Yes. So let’s get on the same page, okay?” They softened, then, as he took me in, and my heart fluttered at the tenderness that overtook his stern features, the hard plane of his cheekbones, the firmness of his mouth. “I can’t even explain… You wouldn’t understand, mayb
e, but this is… This matters, to me. And I want to enjoy you, Sierra—every goddamn inch of you. But to do that I have to know you’re alright. I have to.”

  It took me a long time to figure out how to start, and even when I did, I couldn’t bring myself to begin at the beginning. I wanted him to understand the important part, first—even if, truthfully, I hadn’t understood what the important part was until about three hours ago. “I’m alright,” I whispered, “because I’m with you.”

  “You’re still bluffing.” He was frustrated. Sebastian furrowed his brow and ran his hand through his hair, then leaned even further back. I stared down at his long torso, imagining the way his abdominal muscles would look, the strength and stamina in a body like this one… And then Sebastian actually growled in irritation, his nostrils flaring as he stared up at me. When he started to move as if he was going to pry me off of his lap, I balked.

  “I’m not bluffing!” He held still, staring up at me, waiting. But I didn’t want to do this—I didn’t want to expose these flaws so blatantly, even if he already knew what they were. I wanted sexual vulnerability with Sebastian, because it felt more like invincibility. Like the forcefield that had connected and encircled us since we bonded in the truck on the way here would make all of the bad things that brought me to Montana disappear—and I believed that Sebastian could do that, actually. When I looked at his broad chest and shoulders and the beautiful cut of his face, the firm set of that full mouth, the sheer strength in this body… I felt safe. I felt safer than I had since it happened—I felt safer than I did when I was alone, on the road, with no chance of being hurt by Ripley or anyone else because I was the only person for miles and miles around. Being in Sebastian’s arms wasn’t just physically safe, it was right. “Sebastian… Please. I don’t want…”

  “What?” There was so much tenderness in that one word that my heart seized. “Sierra?” He sat up, reading me immediately, and pulled me close in an embrace that burned with kindness, with compassion, maybe even with… “Please, baby. Just tell me what’s going on. Please.” Sebastian tipped my chin back again, but this time he held me at a greater distance. His eyes were wide with concern. “I’m really… I’m starting to get a little scared.”