Tie Me Down: Arizona Heat Book 1

by Douglas, Katie

  The thing that tipped me over the edge though was after he leaned forward. I inhaled the scent of his masculine musk mixed with a woodsy edge that reminded me he’d been out working on the ranch earlier. The bed rattled in time with his thrusts. His cock was still fucking me at the same pace as his hand swept my hair away and his mouth bit down on the side of my neck, sucking, licking and biting at the same time. The sharpness of his teeth contrasted with the gentle caresses of his tongue with an intensity that almost brought tears to my eyes. I quivered and moaned because the climax starting to detonate in the base of my spine was far too strong for me to stay quiet.

  “That’s it, Alana. Come for me,” Lawson told me. I screamed louder, feeling like I was a vessel for everything he wanted to pour into me, while he increased the pace of his cock, sending me into a dizzy swirl of more sensation than my body could handle. I buried my face in the bed and screamed into it, muffling the sound as every nerve ending in my body seemed to spark and tingle at the same time.

  I heard his growls getting more intense, and I felt his body stiffen as his seed shot deep inside me. I trembled when I felt the hot liquid touch my core, and my orgasm seemed to find new heights to soar to.

  It gradually began to fade away and I almost felt as though I were waking up for the first time today. Except, at the same time, I was pretty much ready to sleep for a week.

  My voice was almost hoarse from screaming so much. My fingers ached where I’d fisted the bedsheets in an attempt to let out the pressure pouring from me. My back was sore from being in this position for so long.

  I slumped sideways and Lawson followed me, his cock sliding out with a pop.

  “Hold still a moment.” His fingers gripped the base of the steel plug and eased it out. I felt empty again, but oddly whole at the same time. It was like I’d been missing something my whole life, and I’d never known what, until Lawson had showed me.

  Instead of rolling over and demanding I stop crowding him, he wrapped me in his arms and held me, periodically kissing the top of my head and generally making me feel more cared for than I’d ever been before.

  Chapter 7

  Lawson

  The sound of truck doors slamming outside told me we needed to move.

  “I think the others are back.” I sat up, gently disentangling myself from her.

  “Others?”

  “My brother Clay and our cow guy, Barrett. I’ll bet they will tell us all about the rodeo.”

  She sat up looking a bit like a rabbit in the headlights. I didn’t blame her. One moment, everything was all about us and now it was about to be a big group conversation.

  “I need to wash my face...” she mumbled and I wasn’t sure but she seemed more than a little nervous about meeting the guys.

  “Do you need a quick shower? You got time.”

  She shook her head. “I’d rather stay with you.”

  “Take the time. I’ll be right here when you’re ready. The others can wait.”

  She smiled and went into the bathroom, saying, “I’ll be quick as I can,” over her shoulder.

  “No, you don’t, missy. You’re gonna take the time you need or I’ll have somethin’ to say about it!” My country drawl came out stronger when I was adamant about something, and right now I wasn’t moving from this spot until she felt ready to go downstairs.

  “Lawson? Law?” Clay’s voice called up the stairs. I went to the door and opened it so I didn’t have to bellow quite so loud to reply.

  “I’ll be down in a few. Put some coffee on, would you?” I yelled back.

  I perched on my bed and waited for her to clean up, when it struck me we didn’t have any of those fancy toiletries that seemed magnetically attracted to women like those rings around Saturn. Hand cream, hair masks, that sort of stuff. And she’d never said anything.

  That meant one of two things. Either she was about as low-maintenance as they came, and I needed to marry her before Clay took a liking to her, or she was pretending she was comfortable here when she really wasn’t. Obviously I wasn’t rooting for the latter because that was only going to end with an argument later down the line.

  When she came out of the bathroom, her hair was still dry but the rest of her was covered in beads of water, except for the part that was wrapped in a big fluffy towel.

  “Feeling better?” I asked, making a point to try not to sound like a redneck.

  “Some.” She still looked uncomfortable.

  “C’mon, darlin’ tell me what’s up.”

  She looked nervously at the door. “You’ve... uh... you’ve been so kind to me but... I’m sorry, I really don’t want you to pass me around.”

  My eyebrows descended. “The hell?”

  “I’m sorry!” Oh, God, she thought I was mad with her.

  “I’m goin’ kill that son of a bitch. Who the hell does that without even asking you if you’re okay about it? Alana, there’s no way in hell I’m sharin’ you with anyone. You’re mine.”

  “Really?”

  “Realer than really.”

  “I don’t think ‘realer’ is a word.”

  I chuckled. “Well, as real as you can get, then. What happened with that other guy... it’s not how we do things, here. I’m a simple guy and I just want you. Sure as hell don’t want to share you.”

  She nodded, and I watched the color flood back to her face. Hot damn... her last guy just shared her around like a box of Tic Tacs? Small wonder she ran off with his car. But that led to another question.

  “Say, Alana? There’s no easy way to ask this, but you sure that bastard’s the father?” It was the most delicate way I could think of to ask if she’d been having unprotected sex with strangers.

  She froze for a moment and I felt bad for stressing her more, but her reaction told me everything.

  “Okay, sweetheart, I think we better get you tested.”

  “A paternity test?”

  Oh God, this was really awkward.

  “We can’t do a paternity test without a blood sample from the guy you think is the father. No, I mean we need to get you tested.” Hell, I hated having to spell this out for her. “For STDs.”

  Her eyes widened and she put a hand over her mouth. “Oh, God. Oh, no. No, no, no. Oh shit. Shit, shit... shitfuck.”

  “Yeah.” And we’d just had unprotected sex, too. “I’m gonna need to get tested now, as well.”

  “I’m so sorry. I never should have let you get involved.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her voice was desolate and I knew I couldn’t be mad at her, whatever happened.

  “Darling, I was involved the moment you fainted at the gas station. Something just pulled me to you. And nothing is going to get in the way of that. Promise. Anyways, if we both got HIV, we got more in common, right?” It was probably the worst joke I’d ever tried to make in my entire life but she gave me a watery smile anyway. “Go wash your face again, we got company and you need to meet my brother.”

  * * *

  Alana

  Walking downstairs behind Lawson, ready to meet the guys, I was trying not to shake with nerves. It didn’t help that Lawson had just dropped a fifty megaton nuke on my sense of wellbeing by pointing out what I’d been too stupid or scared to think about.

  Jimbo had handed me over to his friends occasionally, when he was pissed off with me and wanted to teach me a lesson, or when he wanted to reward someone for a heist gone well or a big drug territory acquisition. I’d hated every moment of it. Filthy, degrading bastards doing whatever they wanted to me while there was nothing I could do to stop them. I didn’t even like thinking about it. But it was all my own fault.

  As my mother had said, the day I switched majors from accounting to fine art, “You made your bed, now you lie in it.” That was the last time she would ever take my calls and I’d given up trying a couple of years ago.

  I’d been stupid enough to take up with Jimbo and let him control my life. Now, here were the consequences. I just hated the fact I’d dragged Lawson
into this. He didn’t deserve any part in my fucked up life riddled with bad choices.

  But somehow, he kept insisting on keeping me by my side. I didn’t understand what he saw in me. As we walked into the kitchen, I tried to put the STD question out of my mind so I could meet everyone.

  “Lawson! We were starting to think you were touching up your make-up—you brought a girl home!” Clay stood up from the kitchen chair and punched his brother on the shoulder. He was wearing a Stetson just like Lawson’s.

  “Alana, this is my brother, Clay. Clay, this is Alana.” Lawson gestured between us in case it wasn’t completely obvious who he was talking to or about. The two brothers were so similar it was obvious they were related, from their dark brown hair to their piercing brown eyes and there was something about the shape of their faces that implied a family resemblance.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Clay said, taking his hat off.

  “Likewise.” Did I shake his hand, or curtsy or something? What was polite down here?

  Clay pulled me into a bear hug for two seconds and patted me on the back when he was done. Well, that answered that question.

  “Over here is Barrett. He’s our cow guy,” Lawson said. A tall, well-muscled man in jeans and a cowboy hat stood up looking like he belonged in a western. His hair was very short and his eyes were steely blue.

  “Is that the official job title?” I quipped, grinning as my courage rose again.

  “Yep. They wanted a cow guy. I’m a cow guy. So they hired me to take care of the cattle.”

  “We only got fifty of them, but it’s good to have someone on hand who knows everything about all of them,” Clay explained.

  “Plus, it means we don’t usually need to get up to deal with them at five in the morning,” Lawson added.

  I frowned for a moment. “Wait, if they’ve been away, then who’s—”

  “That would be me,” a familiar voice said from the kitchen door. “Not sure if you remember, but the name’s Jake. I’m here for the horses. But someone was busy, so I’ve been taking care of the cows, too, this weekend.” His dark blonde hair and blue eyes stood out against the deeper-colored hair of the other three.

  Before I could feel guilty or apologize, Clay retorted, “Any of us could run this place solo for two days.” Clay waved a hand dismissively. “I told Lawson on Friday he didn’t need to be here, but he insisted.”

  “Guess I knew where I was needed,” Lawson replied, glancing at me and winking.

  “Anyways, you got any beer around? Road was clogged getting back and we’re pretty thirsty,” Barrett said. Clay was already raiding the refrigerator.

  “Corona or Bud?” he called out. People replied with their preferences and he passed around bottles. “How ‘bout you, princess?” he asked at last.

  “You got any lemonade, please?”

  He paused to look at me, and this time he looked properly. His eyes hadn’t roved over my body before now, and the only reason I could think of was because what Lawson had said upstairs was true. They didn’t share. I was Lawson’s, so Clay wasn’t even going to contemplate whether I was fuckable or not.

  “How far along are you?” he asked gently, as he pulled out a bottle of Minute Maid and handed it to me.

  “Thanks,” I said about the lemonade. “Five months.” My voice had gone quiet and I tried to concentrate on opening the bottle.

  “Here.” Lawson took from me, removing the cap easily and handing it back.

  “So... what’s the story?” Clay asked, as we all sat down around the kitchen table. Lawson and I exchanged a glance.

  “She passed out at the gas station while we were getting gas,” Jake jumped in. “We brought her here to lay down and recover.”

  “She’s a bit far from home,” Lawson added. “And she doesn’t want to go back anytime soon.”

  I nodded for emphasis.

  “How far?” Barrett wondered.

  “Seattle,” Lawson said. I was glad I didn’t have to do the explaining because here, in front of three more huge cowboys, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do a great job at telling them what happened.

  “And you found her in Snake Eye gas station?” Clay’s brows were raised.

  “I drove here,” I whispered.

  Barrett blew out air, Clay shook his head in amazement, and even Jake looked surprised.

  “You’re five months pregnant and you drove from Seattle to Snake Eye?” Barrett reiterated.

  I nodded, waiting for someone to say something else.

  “Her ex is a total jerkwad, and he might come for his car if he ever figures out it’s here. If he tries to see her, or get her to go back with him, I’m gonna kill him deader than Banana Bubbles.” Lawson’s voice was steely.

  “Banana what?” I asked.

  Clay chuckled. “Exactly. It was a breakfast cereal from the eighties, but it died so hard, no one even remembers it. ‘Cept Lawson and I. It was our favorite.”

  “The cereal that thinks it’s a... milkshake!” they both sang, and I couldn’t help giggling. When they got together, they were like twins.

  “Anyway, if he shows up, we need to be ready for trouble,” Lawson said in a more serious tone.

  “Think he’s likely to find her?” Barrett asked. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Depends how resourceful he is and whether any well-meaning cops spot her on the highway traffic cameras, I guess,” Clay explained.

  I sipped my lemonade, feeling generally bad about everything. As if he noticed, Lawson put a hand on my arm.

  “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “We’ll take good care of you.”

  I tried not to think about it all. I mean, like Barrett said, what were the odds of Jimbo finding me down here?

  Chapter 8

  Alana

  Lawson helped me get myself together and we left the ranch for the doctor’s office pretty early on Monday morning. I was so nervous, I had vomited twice since I woke up.

  I was grateful that he hadn’t said anything to his brother or the other guys about this situation. It was too humiliating.

  “After the clinic, you want to get tacos?” he asked.

  I smiled weakly. “That could be nice.”

  Right now this minute, however, food was the very last thing on my mind. I stared out of the window at the open desert and the occasional vivid green farms as we headed on to Gila Bend to see Lawson’s family doctor. Usually, we’d have to go to a special clinic for these sort of tests, but Lawson had asked very nicely and his doctor had agreed to see us before his office hours began.

  We parked in the lot for Dr. G. Bergman MD, and I froze, stomach lurching, tears trying to pour down my face. I was so afraid of this. Terrified of finding out what the consequences were of not running from Jimbo sooner.

  Lawson opened my door and helped me out. “C’mon, sweetheart, it’s going to be fine.”

  I didn’t believe him, but I let him gently handle me until I was out of the car and we were heading to the doctor’s office.

  He buzzed the door and it opened immediately. A tall man wearing a stethoscope and white coat stood inside.

  “Hey, Doctor Bergman.” Lawson raised a hand in greeting.

  “Good to see you,” he said with a big smile, as though our reason for being here was nothing worse than an annual asthma check.

  We stepped inside and the doctor showed us to his office. Sitting on a plastic chair beside a desk with a computer, I felt so ashamed as he ran through a list of questions.

  “Sorry, these are standard things I have to ask,” he murmured at one point. Through it all, Lawson held my hand while I replied like a robot, trying to explain as best as I could.

  “There’s some things I can test for here; you can pee in a cup for those. Other things need a blood test which has to be sent to a lab with the correct reference samples.”

  We got started, taking turns to use the one bathroom to do the peeing thing, then Lawson held my hand again while I got my blood taken. />
  “When will we get results?” he asked.

  “Five days. I’ll call you,” Bergman replied.

  I looked at the cowboy, who simply tipped his hat to the doctor.

  “Thank you for doing this, Doc,” he said as we left.

  * * *

  Lawson

  The trouble with getting tested for STD’s, I was learning, was that you had to get on with all the usual life stuff while you waited to find out if your life was completely screwed. Fences still needed mending. I needed to drive out and check how the grazing grassland was holding up. Although we’d tested clean for all the things with quick answers, Alana looked pretty worried on the drive back, so after we had some lemonade, I decided to take her with me.

  “I still can’t believe so much farming happens in Arizona,” she said as we slowly drove around the edge of the land to check the fences.

  “Plenty of folks from the north and the coasts think that. All they see is desert. But see what’s on top of the sand? That right there is desert grassland. You’re on the open range, missy.”

  “The cows can eat this stuff?” She gestured to the plants growing on the sand.

  “My cattle does. Beef stock eat most grasses. Oh, boy, that’s a fence that needs fixing.” We’d reached the far corner of our land and I stopped when I saw the gaping hole in the fence. I called Barrett straight away.

  “Barr? How many cows you got?”

  “Don’t tell me one got loose again?”

  “You tell me. Count ‘em. I got a hole in the southwest corner of the long field, and it looks big enough to drive a Greyhound through.” I jumped out of the truck and closed the door, leaving the engine running to keep Alana cool.

  I frowned. One of my fence posts had clean been removed and the barbed wire looked as though it had been cut, not chewed or trampled.

  “I got forty-nine.” That wasn’t what I wanted to hear right now. If one of our cows ended up on the interstate, she could cause a deadly accident.

  “Shit. Can you round them up into the shed, then call Clay and Jake, and get a search party out? I gotta get this fence fixed.”