“Heading out?” I asked.
Her smile was unfaltering. “Yep!” She chuckled delightedly. “I guess our meeting was fate. We would keep the doors unlocked, but last month, we found a bear swimming in the pool. It was terrifying and cute. But the water is warm and waiting for you. So how are you enjoying your stay?”
I gave her a hard look. “I’m sorry, but did you say ‘bears’?”
“Don’t worry, the locked doors have been keeping them out.” She pointed to the door. “Your name is programmed into the keypad. Type in ‘Jada,’ and the door will open for you.”
“Oh, thanks.”
We smiled at each other for few beats. Then she clutched her bag as though about to leave.
“Oh, and my stay has been quite enjoyable,” I said in an effort to keep her around. Now that I knew Spencer’s secrets, I understood why he didn’t want me to leave the property and why everything around the compound was so hush-hush. I wanted to know if Sarah was part of the vow of secrecy and, if so, figure out how to get her to tell me exactly what Spencer was doing in Wyoming and why he was taking a jackhammer to a wall. “By the way, are you from here?”
Her brows furrowed as she leaned toward me a tinge. “From where?”
“This town.”
“Oh.” She leaned away again. “I’m from Portland.”
“I see. I’ve been there several times. I love Tuesday Market.”
“So do I!” she exclaimed.
I grunted, intrigued, and we stood smiling at each other again. I wondered what she was thinking.
“Well…” she said.
“So do you live on the compound?” I asked before she could wrap up our encounter.
Sarah paused as though deliberating whether to answer my question or not. “I stay in one of the cabins on the north side of the estate.”
I intensified my smile. “Are there any bears over there?”
She chuckled. “No… well, yeah. There are no borders around the property. You’d be amazed by the sort of animal traffic we get. It’s winter, so a lot of animals are making their way to warmer climates. Just the other day, I saw a herd of buffalo moving across the plains. It was awesome.”
“That sounds exciting. I would love to see where you’re staying. Maybe we can share a bottle of wine and see what shows up tonight.”
Her smile downgraded into a frown. “I don’t have wine,” she said in a rush.
“Oh,” I said, flicking a wrist fluidly. “I can get us as many bottles as we like.”
Her gaze wandered. “I don’t think Mr. Christmas wants you to…”
“Fuck him,” I said, cutting her off.
She quickly turned her back to me. “Sorry, but I can’t.” She walked away as fast as she could.
I watched her, stunned, and then called, “Sarah.”
She stopped and turned to face me.
“The market’s on Saturday, not Tuesday. Someone from Portland would’ve corrected me”—I snapped my fingers—“like that.”
She spun on her heels and walked out without saying a word.
I took a swig of wine straight from the bottle and set it back down at the foot of my chair. I hadn’t gone swimming. I’d returned to my room and had dinner and wine brought to me. I felt trapped in a world of secrets but knew that all I had to do was call my mom, and she would arrange for a car to pick me up at the gate and take me to her. I dreaded that last part more than being at the ranch. After eating, I sat on the balcony, wrapped in a blanket, and stared out into the darkness. It would snow soon in Wyoming—I could smell it in the air—but I was so hot under the collar that the extra chill in the air didn’t cool my skin. I called Hope but got her voicemail. Then I called Rita and Ling, and by some stroke of bad luck, I got their voicemail too. So I wrapped up tighter in the blanket and, as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, used the view of the crystal lake and the mountains in the distance to think about how in the hell I’d gotten to where I was in the first place.
The salary Spencer paid me was still in my account. Other than automatic payments of my credit card bills, none of it had been spent. Just picturing my credit card debt made me groan. When things got tough, I would use them to pay utility bills or buy groceries, and now my minimum payments totaled over two thousand dollars a month.
Debt—that was keeping my ass glued to my seat. My forehead started to freeze, and my nose turned icy. I could feel the cold again, which meant I’d calmed down.
I stood, grabbing my half-consumed bottle of wine off the floor, satisfied with my decision. I would stay, do my job, ask no questions, and stick with the plan of fattening my bank account to pull my finances out of the red and into the black. I stepped into the warmth of my room, slipped the blanket off my shoulders, and went to bed, knowing Spencer Christmas would not be joining me.
When I woke the next morning, I remembered the vow I’d made before going to bed. But as I walked down to the office, Felix was opening the front door for someone. My heart sank when I saw who it was.
Chapter Sixteen
Spencer Christmas
I sat across from Mita, barely able to keep my eyes open. The slight crinkling of her forehead told me that she was trying to keep a straight face.
“When was the last time you slept?” she asked.
She had a way of making concern sound clinical. I liked that about her. I didn’t want her pity. I didn’t want anyone’s pity.
I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Is there a reason you haven’t been able to sleep?”
My head was aching like crazy. I massaged my temples vigorously, trying to get some relief. “Because I’m close. That’s why.” I didn’t know what the hell I’d just said. Whatever it was felt reckless.
“Are you ready to tell me what you’re hoping to discover?”
I let my palms slap down on the leather sofa and sighed deeply. I probably should have cancelled our session, but I wanted to talk to Mita, not about my search but about Jada. “I just need some fucking answers.”
She kept a steady and strong posture. “Answers about what?”
“Jada,” I blurted.
She nodded softly. “I see.” She finally took out her notepad and started flipping the pages. “Last week you mentioned you were fascinated by your new employee. Has that evolved?”
Oh, has it ever. No matter what I did, I could still smell Jada Forte’s skin and feel my cock inside her warm, wet pussy. But I wasn’t going to tell my therapist that.
I shrugged. “Some.”
“Please elaborate,” she said in that even tone of hers.
“Well…” I shifted in my seat. “I crossed the line with her.”
“You had sexual relations?”
“Yes, but more than that.”
She nodded, letting me know that she was listening.
“I almost hurt her while fucking, but I stopped myself.”
“You stopped yourself. That’s good,” she said as if that were some minor victory.
I shook my head. I didn’t think she understood what was really happening to me. Hell, I couldn’t comprehend it. Jada Forte was probably the sexiest woman I’d ever fucked. She had a real sensuality about her, a hidden one that not even she could see. And damn, did that turn me on. I wanted to consume her, carry her with me every minute of the day, fuck her, look at her, talk to her—I could never get enough of her, and that scared the hell out of me.
“Do you have any words for the thoughts you’re having?” Mita asked.
I sat up straight. There was something about the way she asked that question. I knew I’d better say something. “I don’t know why I feel this way about her. I’ve been with a lot of women, but she…”
“But,” she said, flipping through her notepad, “you said that you’ve never been able to feel complete sexual arousal during sex.” Now she was reading whatever the hell she’d written verbatim. “You’ve never been able to feel an orgasm, and the sensations leading to an orgasm felt numb.�
�� She looked up, watching me, waiting for a response to her description of a situation that used to make me feel like less of a man.
I nodded.
“But the numbing wasn’t present when you were with this woman sexually?”
Memories made my dick throb, and I felt embarrassed because I was alone with the wrong woman. “Yes,” I said curtly.
“And is that why you haven’t been able to sleep?”
I swallowed that big fat lump. “It’s not the only reason. I’m almost done here. I haven’t found what was I looking for. But I hired this woman, and she’s…” I took deep breath and squeezed my eyes shut. “I just didn’t see her coming.”
When I opened my eyes again, Mita was watching me with calm. “Whatever you’re looking for here, when you find it, what are you hoping your discovery will do for you?”
I looked off, grimacing at the fucking carpet. “I’ve tried to answer your question many times before.” I scratched the back of my head.
She shifted abruptly. “Then let me ask you another question. Are you afraid that Jada Forte will have an adverse reaction to whatever you find?”
I closed my eyes as I felt a hard lump in my chest. It was about genes. I was my father’s son. Every woman should stay clear of me.
“I’ve done some fucked-up shit in my lifetime, Mita. Shit that Jada could never perceive.”
She scooted to the edge of her seat. “Use your tools. Take a moment to deconstruct what you just said to me, look at it differently, and rephrase it.”
I did what she instructed and then opened my eyes. It was if the doctor’s face was aglow with wisdom.
“The past was what it was. I can let it drag me under and define me by shit I didn’t know how to change, or I can change because of what I know now.”
She showed me her big beautiful smile and sat back in her chair. “Yes, Spencer. You are who you are, sitting right in front me. That’s the real you—the man who can now allow himself to feel pleasure without pain. But here’s the thing about love—you don’t get to control whether or not the other person loves you. Be yourself, the man sitting in front of me, having your past, present, and future, and she’ll get to decide if she wants to love you. Or is that the part that scares you? She’s falling in love with you, and you’re afraid of it?”
Her words made me incline backward. Love? Never had I thought I would feel that. I loved my siblings when they weren’t being assholes. We all had our shit. Jasper had come a long way since Holly. He said it was because he loved her and she was good for him. I never thought I would find someone I could feel the same way about. Is Jada my Holly? I didn’t know. I didn’t have to have an answer at that very moment, but I had to come up with one soon.
“Maybe,” I finally replied.
The alarm rang, ending the day’s session.
When I walked Mita to the door, I was hoping to find Jada lurking. I could tell she was a little jealous of my therapist, which turned me on. Mita got into the car and drove off, and my dick got hard as I thought about letting myself make love to Jada without letting mental barriers get in the way. Shit. The excitement was stirring in my dick. I wanted her. I wanted her badly. But I would have to wait for the right moment.
I had work to do, and so did she. But later…
I will find her.
I will fuck her.
I will enjoy it.
Chapter Seventeen
That day, the mysterious woman had worn a black-and-white plaid suit that hugged her flawless curves. I couldn’t get the sight of her walking into the foyer out of my head. I covered my face with my hands, kicking myself for not smiling back at her. Instead, I’d turned away from her and practically run to the office.
I forced myself to get through the day, sitting in on more meetings and taking notes for Spencer. I couldn’t face Sarah after our awkward conversation of the previous day, but I needed to get out and away. I couldn’t stand to be cooped up in the windowless office or go to my room. It was time to clear my head. So I shut down my computer and headed out of the office. I took the elevator to my room to grab a coat and then rode back to the main floor and headed out of the house quickly enough not to catch Felix’s attention. I didn’t want him asking me where I was going or what time I’d be back for dinner. The truth was, I didn’t know.
The golf cart was waiting in front of the house, as always. I climbed in behind the wheel and turned up the heat before driving off. A rebel’s spirit gripped me as I drove past the atrium and went as far as my courage would take me. Instead of focusing on the worry that Spencer had eyes everywhere and at some point, one of his rule enforcers would probably stop me, I decided to focus on the shimmering lakes on both sides of the road, which were surrounded by wild grass or splays of trees. It was as if every mile presented a new and beautifully lush landscape. The farther away from the ranch I drove, the more the trees thickened the land and disrupted the view of the mountains. I figured at some point I would run into the cabins Sarah had mentioned. My heart was beating like crazy. I was probably going way too far away from home. The more ground I gained, the more anxiety rattled on my insides.
Suddenly, I heard droplets pelting the top of the cart and then ice hitting the window.
“Shit,” I muttered. I’d known the snow was coming, but I didn’t think it would arrive so soon.
The trees kept getting thicker, and the road turned powdery white. I didn’t want to call my excursion a bust, but it was time to turn around and head back to the ranch. I pressed the brake, eager to make the three-point turn and drive out of thick brush. As I turned the wheel, the sounds of growling, barking, and something like a cow mooing filled the cab.
“What the hell?” I muttered, checking my driver-side mirror. I tried to look in the one on the passenger side, but ice had collected on the glass, and I couldn’t see through it.
The wild noises got louder, closer. I sat very still. Then I felt the impact and heard it too. My tiny cart spun in circles, and I felt as if I were trapped in a screaming, howling, bumpy vortex.
“Shit!” I screamed as I got hit again.
My heart wanted to jump out of my chest, and my instincts warned me that now was not the time to lose control of the situation. Whatever was happening to me, I was in trouble.
Boom, thump, clunk! I heard a deep, guttural whine. Something was hurt, angry, and ravenous. I was still spinning and directing my wheel toward the movement of the tires. When I was at Redmond College, I’d driven all the way across the country to California for the holiday months, to my parents’ chagrin, and my dad had given me a long lecture about the maneuvers to pull if I found myself in different car-accident scenarios. I was experiencing one of those options at the moment.
Finally, the cart came to a stop. My eyes expanded as I looked at what was going on beyond the windshield. I could hardly believe what I was seeing. A pack of gray-and-white wolves were tugging at a small animal that resembled a moose, and larger moose—perhaps the mother—was trying to heave her antlers at them.
I wanted to get the hell out of there as fast as I could, but I would have had to drive off the road to get around the spectacle. I squeezed the sides of my face, panicking. I screamed along with the mother moose as one of the wolves pulled at the baby moose’s leg.
I grew dizzy and thought I would pass out. Never in my life had I seen such a thing. Then my cart shook again as the mother moose started kicking it, perhaps taking her anger out on me. I was shaking again, hoping my cart didn’t get turned over. The wolves were still trying to bring the smaller moose down, but it fought vigorously for its life.
“The horn,” I said, searching frantically. My hands and body were so shaky that I wouldn’t have been able to find if it was on the tip of my nose.
As I scrambled around, trying to find the horn, I heard two loud cracks that sounded like gunshots. The wolves howled and rushed away from their dinner. To my surprise, as soon as they were gone, the baby moose tried to stand. The mother moose went
over to help it, bellowing as if in severe emotional pain.
I stared into the bright headlights of a big truck facing in my direction. I wanted to get out and run to whoever was driving it, but I was too afraid to pass the mama moose still crying over her baby, who might never recover from the assault.
“Drive around them now,” a projected voice said. There was no doubt who it was—Spencer Christmas.
Slowly, I began to drive, creeping past the mama moose. At first, I was thankful to be saved. Then remorse gripped me because I shouldn’t have been way out there in the first place. I stopped the car beside his truck and couldn’t stop shaking as Spencer carefully approached my door, aiming what appeared to be a shotgun at the mother moose. Now I felt even worse than before. It was probably because of me that her baby had gotten caught by the wolves, and if she attacked me again, Spencer was sure to end her.
When he made it to my door, I had to unlock it. I didn’t even remember locking it. He put his finger over his lips as he opened it. The golf cart must have been masterfully soundproof because as soon as the outside was let in, I could really hear the mother moose wailing.
He took me by the hand. “Let’s go,” he whispered.
I pulled back a little. “What about the baby?”
“Now,” he demanded, ignoring my plea to help the baby moose.
I was certainly not going to fight him on this. The mother moose was a fierce creature indeed. In no time, I was out of the cart and keeping pace with Spencer, who led me to the passenger side of one of the biggest trucks on the planet. I climbed the steps that led to the front seat and got in.
He closed the door behind me. The wolves were back, and the mother moose was bucking them again but was losing the fight. When Spencer finally plopped himself behind the steering wheel, the wolves, not at all concerned about the big moose, were watching the truck while dragging their dinner into the trees. The mama moose looked on as if stunned by what had just happened.
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