I flip the lights off, squinting into the dark. I’m about to give up watching and write it off to a stray goat when I see a dark shadow move just outside my bedroom window. My hands clench around the pitchfork. What the fuck?
My eyes adjust more to the darkness until I see the shape of a man wearing all black. He waves his hand and two other men creep toward him, sliding around the side of my house. One of them pulls something from the back of his pants--a handgun--and stands slowly to peer through my window.
I think back to the sounds I’ve been hearing around the house and feel my rage boil over again. I’m so pissed at the thought of these assholes creeping around my property and peeking in on me while I sleep that I don’t even think about the guns or the fact that I’m outnumbered. I take off toward the house at a full-out sprint, pitchfork held high over my head. I plant my foot and hurl it like a javelin when I think I’m close enough. I let out a furious growl of effort and watch it sail through the darkness in complete silence, only to thwack into the wood siding of the house just inches above one of the men’s heads.
They turn toward me in surprise. The man with the gun takes aim, but one of the others reaches to his arms and pulls them down, shaking his head. They’re too far for me to hear what they say, but I see the two men argue for a couple seconds, then they all take off running.
I stand watching them flee, chest heaving, fingers still tingling from the wood of the rake handle as it slid from my grip.
“Lucas?” asks a timid voice to my side. “Did you just--”
I jump like someone just shocked me with a cattle prod. “Jesus Christ!” I roar, rounding on her. “Mila? What the hell are you doing here?”
“I came to… um, well. There’s something I need to tell you. Something I should’ve told you before now. But if you’re too busy throwing pitchforks at your house, I could come back another time,” she says with the shadow of a smile on her lips.
“You need to go,” I say through clenched teeth. I turn to walk back to the barn, but I hear her footsteps crunching the grass behind me. “Are you deaf?” I ask.
She stares up at me intently, jaw flexing as she sucks in rapid breaths through her nose. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she repeats.
“I said you need to go.”
“I’m not leaving until you listen to me,” she repeats, stepping closer. She loses her footing on the dark grass and stumbles into me.
I catch her arms, but not before her full tits press into my stomach. All the fury inside me swirls into a confused mixture of lust, passion, and above all, need.
I find my fingertips moving slowly up her arm, grazing the smooth skin of her neck and finding her cheek. Goosebumps ripple in the wake of my touch, and the cool mist of our breaths are close enough to mingle.
She swallows hard and opens her mouth to speak, but I shake my head. “I told you to leave. You should have listened.” My voice is barely above a whisper, little more than a rasp of hunger and want.
“What if I don’t listen?” she asks. Her eyebrows twitch together and up, like the words escaping her lips are surprising even her.
“We might both end up doing something we regret.”
She bites her lip, leaning her face into my open palm and sighing with closed eyes. “I already regret so much. What’s one more drop of water in the ocean?”
Fuck.
My heart's still pounding from the men I saw creeping around my property and the shit Cynthia pulled, now this? Maybe I shouldn’t be getting tied up with some city girl who clearly has something to hide, but right now the pounding pressure of my erection is making a pretty good argument for saying fuck it all, even if it’s just for tonight, just one last time.
I slide my hand from her cheek to splay across her back and then scoop her into my arms, holding her beneath her knees and carrying her toward the barn. She gasps, but she doesn’t fight me. Inside the barn, I don’t even bother to close the door or flick on the lights. The moonlight streaming in provides plenty of light, and I’m not quite ready to take my hands off her, not even to flip the switch.
I snag one of the blankets I keep on hand for particularly cold nights and toss it over a fresh pile of hay, still holding Mila close to me. I was going to toss her down to the hay, but my racing pulse and the fire of my lust overcomes everything else.
I bend my neck down to kiss her while I hold her in my arms. Her lips are sweet and soft against mine, a surge of warmth to fight the cool night air. She hesitates at first, eyes still open and looking up at me, but I know she’s mine when those long lashes flutter down and she closes her eyes, sliding her tongue tentatively into my mouth at first and then with a rapidly growing intensity. Her small hands press into my chest and one snakes around my back, digging into my muscles.
I reposition her, gripping her by the ass with both hands so she can wrap her legs around my waist. I pin her back to the wall of the nearest stall more roughly than I intend, and the loud bang of wood wakes a nearby cow and two goats, who scuttle away in annoyance. Mila’s mouth opens in silent surprise, but her eyes hold only heat as she looks up at me with her back pinned to the wall and my body pressed against hers.
“Last chance to leave, city girl,” I say, even though we both know we’ve already gone too far to stop now.
Something passes over her face--hesitation, doubt, regret--I can’t say which, but I remember the look on her face when she said she needed to tell me something. I’m too far gone for curiosity to stop me now, but the connection clicks distantly; she’s trying to decide if she should tell me before we go any further. Fuck if I care about her demons right now. Maybe she’s a serial killer or hell, maybe she really is a vegan, but I’d rather not know. At least for now.
All I care about is getting another taste of those lips.
She shakes her head and swallows so hard I can hear it click in her throat. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I crush my mouth against hers so hard her head thumps back against the wooden stall. Her legs scissor more tightly around me and she threads her fingers through my hair, gripping me tightly and pressing me into her, begging for more.
You’re going to get more, darlin’. You can bet your tight little ass on that.
I pull at her bottom lip hungrily with mine, kissing a path down her chin and neck until I’m cupping her tits through the thin material of her dress. I move a hand under her dress and skillfully unhook her bra. I’m too impatient to wait for her to slip her arms through the straps, so I yank down and snap the thin material free, pulling the bra from her dress and tossing it down to the hay.
“Those are expensive,” she says, but there’s no real anger in her voice, only surprise.
“What about these?” I ask, hooking my thumb under the waistband of her panties and pulling until she can feel the pressure.
She looks up at me, eyes wide and full of lust. She bites her lip slowly, so her bottom lip just slides out of her teeth and pops back to place. A wave of uncontrollable desire crashes into me and it’s all I can do not to tear her panties off and then split her dress down the middle with my bare hands so I can get to her faster, but that would ruin the fun of making her beg.
“Those weren’t that expensive,” she says with the hint of a smirk. “So maybe you should--”
I silence her by ripping the panties off in one quick motion, snapping them off with a sound like a rubber band cracking. Her body shudders against me, and I know the only thing between Mila and I is the thin blue dress she wears. I don’t rush, no matter how much my aching cock would like me to. I take my time running my calloused hands over the outside of her dress, feeling the soft shape of her tits through the thin material and the way her nipples harden immediately at my touch.
I kiss her now, slowly and reverently while I explore her body. I let my hand ride the curve of her waist and the swell of her hips. I press my palm down her belly until I feel the mound of sensitive skin just above her pussy. I grip her ass, her thighs, an
d even her calves, loving every fucking second of it.
My cock throbs like it’s about to explode. I’ve never been this hard, this turned on. I’ve never wanted it this badly. All thoughts of my life or my problems are nothing right now, pushed back to the deepest corners of my mind by the single, thrumming beat of Mila… Mila… Mila…
For the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel real fear--fear that I won’t be able to stop, that this city girl is going to undo me, that I’ll never be satisfied again unless she’s in my arms or my cock is buried in her to the hilt. She’s trouble. But the best kind, and damn if she isn’t exactly the kind of trouble my life has been missing.
9
Mila
Lucas pins me to the wall with a body like warm steel. My legs are wrapped around him, heels digging into his ass and pussy pressed against the hardness of his erection. He’s still wearing jeans, but the warmth of his cock against me is making my stomach feel like it’s doing summersaults and my heart pound like I’ve just run a marathon. I want it. I want it so bad it hurts.
Tell him.
The small voice pierces the cloud of lust that has been blocking everything else since he put his hands on me. But I know if I tell him the truth, he’ll never want to see me again. He’ll never talk to me again.
He’s rocking his body against mine, making it almost impossible to think straight. Just say it. Clear the air.
“Lucas… I…”
“I feel it too, darlin’,” he says, pressing his forehead to mine and kissing me like I’ve never been kissed, like he’s worshiping me. He pulls back from the kiss and flashes me an irresistible smirk. “I may have to keep you around after all.”
I lower my chin, unable to meet his eyes because I know I’m not going to tell him. Not now, at least. Not if it means this stops. I crisscross my fingers behind his neck, pulling him into me. One of his strong hands grips my ass and he plants the other against the wall beside my face. I kiss him again, losing myself in the moment until even the ghosts of doubt are pulverized into dust, until the only thing that exists is the friction of our bodies, the heat underneath my fingertips, and the mingling smoke of our breaths rising up into the darkness of the barn.
I reach for his belt, but he has other plans, using both hands to hoist me up against the wall he tosses my thighs over his shoulders. Pinning my arms against the wall, he takes my weight on his broad shoulders. Without hesitation, he buries his face between my legs. With my dress hiked up to my hips, he has no problem finding my pussy, and my God does he know what to do when he finds it.
He kisses me all over, worshiping every inch of my bare skin. I feel his warm tongue slide along my slit, lapping at me like I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. He works his tongue against me until I’m shaking so violently with building pleasure I can barely keep myself from falling off his shoulders.
I dig my heels into his strong back, watching the way his muscles cord and relax with every motion of his hands and neck. “You feel so good,” I gasp.
He pauses to grin up at me. “I’m just getting started, darlin’. You’ll be--”
“Lucas!” shouts a voice from the direction of his house. “Get your ass out here!”
It’s Cynthia, and she sounds about as pissed off as she is drunk.
“Fuck,” Lucas growls. He looks at me for a moment, obviously trying to decide if he can ignore Cynthia and finish with me or not. “Wait here. I’m not letting her spoil this. I’ll make sure she stays gone.”
“Stay,” I say. My eyebrows draw down in concern. I can’t say how I know, but I know if he walks away now, I might never have the courage to take the leap with him again. “Please,” I whisper. “Stay.”
His jaw flexes. “I need to get her off my property before she breaks something,” he says, turning to leave me vulnerable and feeling abandoned. With the heat of his body and mouth stripped away, I’m left with only the cold night air and the smell of the animals sleeping in the barn. I creep to the door, watching Lucas storm toward Cynthia, who is using her high heel to bang on his door.
“What the fuck?” asks Cynthia once Lucas is in front of her. “I can smell the pussy on you from here. Who are you with? Where is she? Where is she?” Cynthia yells again through clenched teeth. She emphasizes her words by shoving Lucas.
I grip the door frame, fighting down my instinct to go out there and tell her to keep her hands off him. Why should I fight it though? She said she’s done with me, didn’t she? It’s not like she can fire me any more than she already has.
Then again… If she realizes Lucas was with me, it wouldn’t be long before she would realize she could destroy everything between us by telling him I am the matchmaker he’s so disgusted by. Damn it.
I still can’t believe I let myself fall into that situation without telling him. The only reason I came out here was to come clean and clear the air. I heard how angry he was and how sickened he was by the idea that someone had been listening and manipulating events. I thought maybe if I could just explain myself he could forgive me. After that? I hadn’t gotten that far, but I knew I’d never be able to look him in the eye again until I told the truth.
Except I apparently had no problem letting him eat me out. Again. I lean forward, letting my forehead bump against the edge of the barn door. For someone who made a career out of helping people with relationships, I sure know how to make a mess of my own.
I feel a wave of sickness pass over me. I can’t do this. I can’t let this happen, not when he doesn’t know the truth.
I step out from the barn, clothes still in disarray. “It was me,” I say loudly.
Cynthia rounds on me with a look so full of pure, fiery hate that I almost lose all my resolve and sink back into the shadows, but I don’t. I lick my lips, looking to Lucas, who is watching me with a curious expression.
“I’m the matchmaker,” I say, unable to even meet Lucas’ eyes. “That’s what I was trying to tell you. It was too late, but that’s what I came here to say. The whole reason I’m in Wade’s Creek was to try to help Cynthia get back together with you. I’m so sorry, if you--”
“No,” he says, jaw flexing.
“You fucking bitch,” spits Cynthia. “I’m going to make sure you never work another fucking day in your life. You’re going to--”
“Shut the fuck up,” Lucas snarls, he still hasn’t taken his eyes from me. “You’re going to do jack shit, Cynthia. Even if you had a tenth of the connections you think you have, you couldn’t stop her from getting a job. But you…” he says, taking a step toward me that makes me want to dig a hole in the ground, climb in, and never get out again. “I never want to see you again. Thought you could pull one over on some stupid ass country boy? Thought you’d just fuck around with me on the side then cash a check when it’s all over?”
“No, Lucas,” I plead. My voice is weak and thick as the tears start to fall. “I didn’t know you were the one. I didn’t even know your real name until the festival, I--”
He shakes his head. “I’m supposed to believe you took the job without so much as seeing a picture of me? Or knowing what nicknames I go by?”
“I swear, I had no idea. I prefer to work blind, it’s more genuine.”
“Except I gave her a folder full of information about you and pictures the first night she came to town,” says Cynthia in a tone of voice that says she thinks she has just put the final nail in my coffin.
“Get off my property,” says Lucas.
Cynthia flashes a wicked, satisfied little grin.
“Both of you,” he growls.
“Lucas--baby, let me come in and help you calm down.”
“I don’t want to see either of you ever again. Especially on my property. Go.”
I hang my head, walking back toward my car through the darkness, distantly hoping he’ll call after me once he’s calmed down a little and give me more of a chance to explain myself. But why should he? Why would he forgive me?
Even
if I didn’t know he was my client, I still agreed to manipulate a man into getting back with a woman he clearly didn’t want to get back in a relationship with. I deluded myself into thinking it wasn’t that different from what I normally do, but if I had taken a step back I would’ve seen it. There’s a huge difference between helping a woman overcome her self-confidence issues and get together with a guy who’s right for her and helping a conniving woman con an ex boyfriend into getting back together with her.
“Pack your bags, little miss matchmaker. I know where you sleep, and thanks to you, I have nothing going on tonight,” Cynthia snaps.
“Just stop,” I say, feeling overwhelmingly tired. “I’m leaving. I won’t be around to fuck up anybody’s life by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Good riddance,” she sniffs before hopping into her fancy little sports car. She nearly clips the fence in her hurry to drive off and spray me with gravel.
“You’re going to have to be more specific,” says Amy.
It’s the following morning and I’m grabbing a bagel at a place along the main strip of town, just a couple buildings down from Frank and Martha’s bed and breakfast. Amy agreed to come with me and even allowed me to drag my feet until now about telling her just how bad things with with Cynthia.
“We’re not going to get paid,” I say, bracing myself for Amy’s disappointment. “Last night went… Well, you could say it went bad.”
“Bad how?” she asks.
I watch her, feeling a stab of unease when I see how slowly the truth is sinking in for her. That means it’s bad. Amy can be stubborn, and when confronted with something she doesn’t want to believe, the longer it takes to set in the harder it’s going to hit her.
Bad for the Billionaires: A Bad Boy Billionaire Bundle Page 101