by Tessa Bailey
Could he let her go back to Los Angeles alone? Go on tour without him there to keep her protected? Just thinking about it made his skin feel like ice, even beneath the blazing sun. Still, there was a relentless prickle at the base of his spine. A doubt he’d been harboring since he’d woken up four years ago and seen the discoloration of her fading bruises.
Maybe she liked men like him. Men with violence in their blood. An unhealthy fascination that he would be taking advantage of.
James watched Lita as she dug much harder than before, her frustration with him and their conversation plain. Dirt flew to one side, filtering in through tall grass. He was familiar with this side of her. This shaken Coke can of emotion she turned into right before acting out. Doing something reckless. Usually, it put James on high alert, forced him to play offense before she could make a move. But it was a different Lita that had shown up in Modesto—Lita the planner, the fighter—and he couldn’t read her as well now.
He started toward her, but drew up short when the crew of workmen rounded the building. Five sets of eyes that landed on Lita without delay, widened with appreciation of her position on hands and knees. Feeling his control begin to strain, James cleared his throat loudly until they gave him their attention.
Only one of them had the decency to look ashamed. “Uh. Lunch time, boss?”
“Yeah,” James growled, watching Lita come to her feet. This was it. This was when she flirted with other men or exposed more skin to make him insane. He’d shaken the Coke can and now it would explode all over him.
“You want to come with us, Lita?” the apparent mouthpiece for the crew asked. “There’s a decent food truck back toward the main road. Plenty of room.”
Lita smiled innocently at James and it was a punch straight in the gut. He hoped she could read the warning in his no bullshit expression. Hell would be frozen over before she got into a car with five men he’d known just over a week. If she wanted a scene, he would damn well give her one.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” Lita said to the men. “I’m good here.”
James barely managed to hide his shock as the men disappeared from sight. They stared at one another across the expanse of green until the sound of vehicles pulling away could be heard in the distance.
“I’m going for a walk.” Lita took off the gardening gloves covering her hands and tossed them onto the ground before reaching up to loosen her hair where it had been kept in a ponytail since they’d started working. It fell in messy waves around her shoulders and she pushed impatient fingers through the strands to tame it, but the movement had the opposite effect on his body. Her jean shorts slipped down onto slender hips, leaving a thin gap between her stomach and the denim. A place for his tongue. His hands. All the while, she glared at him. “Don’t follow me.”
James felt his blood go from simmer to boil, felt the weight of lust settle low in his abdomen, spreading down to his loins. His hands shook at his sides until he fisted them. Oblivious to the change taking place inside him, Lita turned on a booted heel and stomped toward the wooden area, those little strands of frayed denim taunting him as her ass worked side to side. His dick grew thick and ready for the spot between her legs. He fucking craved her. There was no reason among the chaos. Just knowledge that others had wanted Lita, regardless if she’d turned them down. They’d still looked and coveted. Now she was angry and he wanted that anger beneath him. Wanted to harness it, tame it, mate it with his own.
When she turned at the forest edge to flash her middle finger at him, James put his head down and moved. His strides covered ground quickly, but Lita clearly had other ideas. James was about ten feet away when she turned and ran full speed in the opposite direction.
His vision flickered.
* * * *
Being pissed off and horny at the same time was a deadly combination.
Oh, Lita was fuming as she ran along the shaded dirt path. James thought she was so predictable, did he? Thought she was some walking cliché who needed to resort to jealousy to score points? Well, screw the hell out of that. They were way beyond petty jealousy at this point.
The way he’d looked at her like some wayward teenager, even after she’d come here to make things right burned. And it had come right on the heels of him so casually reminding her Old News would be continuing on without him. God, maybe this whole trip had been a waste of her time. He’d made up his decision and the longer she spent here, attempting to change his steel-trap mind, she became more of a fool.
“Lita.”
She ran faster, her footsteps falling in time with her scattered breathing. Her jagged heartbeat. Plans had gone out the window and now instinct ruled the day. He’d made her feel like the weakest version of herself and now she wanted to return the favor. Or…God, maybe this was a last-ditch effort to break through to him. She didn’t know anymore. Could only run away from the idea of living without him. Run away from the girl that had driven him away, the girl James believed her to be.
Tears obscured her vision but she pushed on, ducking off the path and sprinting across a forest floor of soft, brown earth and green, fallen leaves—
Lita’s progress came to an abrupt halt as her feet left the ground. An unyielding arm banded around her waist, yanking her backward into a chest that left no doubt her captor was James. She could smell his singular musk, she could…feel his excitement against her bottom. The evidence that her impulsive run had yielded that effect somehow incited her rage, while still managing to swamp her in arousal.
“Stop.” James rasped the agonized word into her neck but negated the command by thrusting his erection against her backside.
A part of Lita wanted to turn and soothe him, take away the misery she could hear in his voice. But she wouldn’t. If he was determined to send her home a failure, she’d prove a point first. This thing that had kept them apart so long, this facet of him that he didn’t think she could handle? She’d been game for it since day one.
“Stop what?” She tried to pull away, but James hauled her back. “I’m not running anymore. You won’t let me.”
His groan lifted goose bumps on every inch of her skin. “Lita, I’m in trouble here. Say the words.”
“Which ones? Fuck you?” She pulled her elbow forward and rammed it back into his stomach, satisfied when his vile curse burned her ear. It loosened his hold long enough for her to pull free and start running—only to be brought down to the forest floor, flat onto her stomach, James’s grip circling her right ankle.
Yes. Yes. Oh my God, yes. Hot, pulsing anticipation began to trip and skitter through Lita’s veins, racing below her belly button, bursting like fireworks. She clawed at the dirt in an attempt to get away, but being prevented, being pulled backward through the damp dirt to the space beneath James’s hungry body almost blinded her with hunger. She wanted to be forced down and taken. Wanted her body used without apology. Hard.
Now. Now.
She also didn’t want to ask. She wanted to be told. It wasn’t merely the dark brand of lust, but anger and frustration at the man pinning her down. If he wanted it, there was no way in hell she’d give him permission. Her pride wouldn’t allow it.
“Get off me,” Lita said through clenched teeth, attempting to twist onto her back and being thwarted. “I hate you.”
“Not yet.” He transferred his weight to one side, creating room to run his palm up the bare back of her thighs, where he fingered the fringe of her jean shorts. “But you will if you don’t say the goddamn words.”
That grating command gave her a burst of energy. Lita threw an elbow back and connected with his collarbone. Nothing. He didn’t so much as flinch. Was he made of granite? Even without seeing his face, she could imagine the tense lines between his eyebrows. Could see brackets around his sensual mouth. Feel the starvation pouring off him in waves. His touch moved higher to palm her bottom, separating her cheeks and squeezing them crudely.
Wetness trickled down between her thighs, forcing her to swallow a gasp.
“We talked about this, Lita.” His tone had changed, grown more predatory, and everything inside her sung in response. “We talked about that tight cradle between your legs and how well I was made to fit there. You’ve been flashing it at me all morning like a dick tease.”
“No, I haven’t,” she breathed, knowing full well it was a lie but liking the way it felt wrong on her tongue. Loved the way wrong suddenly felt right. Vital.
“A liar, too, aren’t you?” He crammed his hand between Lita’s pelvis and the soft ground, working the button of her pants with ruthless movements. Every nudge of his knuckle against her belly set off a chain of sparks inside her. Bright, needy sparks. “What am I going to do with this hard cock, Lita? How am I going to satisfy myself unless I fuck you into the ground?”
Her zipper came down with a muffled, metallic sound. Big, blunt fingers invaded her panties, stroking through her wet folds without a hint of gentleness. The first contact of skin on skin paralyzed her in its long-awaited perfection, but his middle finger’s rough jostling of her clit woke her limbs up. It stung in a brutally fantastic way. A way that would bring an orgasm tearing through her middle without consent, and she couldn’t allow that. Not a chance. Not yet.
Lita slammed her thighs together and attempted to crawl away on her elbows, crying out in surprise when James pounced on top of her. Not with his entire weight, but enough that she had no chance of freedom. That fact didn’t stop her from struggling, bucking up into his immovable hips with her backside. His arm wrapped around her upper half, putting his forearm beneath her mouth, so she bit him. Bit him until he repositioned them with a threatening growl and captured her jaw. Lita was a total prisoner now and it caused shivering thrills to race from the tip of her head downward, curling her toes. Yes. Don’t let me move. Keep me.
“What are you fighting me for, plaything?” He rasped into her ear. “You’ve been asking me for this all morning. ‘Come and get it, James.’” His hips rolled against her bottom. “I heard you even if you weren’t saying it. I can hear you now.”
“No.” Yes. I’ve been begging. “I didn’t ask…I don’t—”
Lita’s protest died when the jean shorts were yanked down her body, along with her panties. Her lips fell open to suck in frantic breaths. They were outside doing this. Her pants were down, exposing her. Outside. And she wanted what would come next so bad, her fingers curled into the dirt, grinding the grains against her palms and creating abrasions. The same way she wanted to be marked. Claimed. Corrupted. Now, please, now.
Their bodies were so close, the back of his hand grazed her bare backside as his zipper was brought down. When he heaved a groan, she knew he’d removed his erect flesh, could picture its ruddy girth clasped in his hand. The way he stroked its length above her imprisoned body. Looking down on her. Preparing to take.
Using what felt like his knee, James shoved her thighs apart, dragging her wider knees in the damp earth. “Next time you’ll think twice about heading into the woods alone. Won’t you, little girl?”
A whimper tumbled from her mouth. Depending on who was listening, the sound might have been distress or arousal. Her thighs could have been shaking out of fear or anticipation. She could barely keep up the pretense of non-consent anymore. Another minute and she would be screaming for him to get inside her.
She felt the fleshy head of James’s arousal slide through her core, pausing at her entrance. “Oh God, oh God…” she chanted, voice cracking.
James jerked her hips up, leaving her bottom in the air, her cheek pressed against the ground. “He can’t help you, either.”
When he seated himself inside her body, it took Lita’s scream a few seconds to work free of her throat, oxygen was at such a premium. Even when the piercing cry finally found its way into the air, James’s hand cut it off after only a few seconds. Her vision wavered under the attack of his body on hers. No quarter was given. No mercy. He was a hostile man determined to use her body as an outlet for lust. His hips dipped down and rammed up in forceful thrusts that jarred her teeth inside her skull. Without the brawny arm supporting her midsection, keeping her center in place for the taking, she would have fallen flat.
Inside her mind, a vision of James interchanged with a shadowy stranger. One he’d kept locked inside. A side that came out and turned him into a different man. But that blurry juxtaposition of trust and uncertainty only made it real. Made her the only thing standing between this man and relief from his pain. There was power in that knowledge, even with her body held immobile.
James slowed his movements and leaned forward to align their bodies, chest to back, as he teased her with slow, thorough drives. “Put you on the pill to protect you, didn’t I? From who?” He uncovered her mouth and hammered into her with a series of rough thrusts. “From who?”
“You,” she shouted.
“That’s right.” He rose again, gripping her hips as their bodies joined, again and again. “All that acting out and getting into trouble. Maybe you just needed to flash that pussy at me and run away, somewhere I could make you sorry and no one could hear you scream.”
Irritation flickered in Lita’s chest, traveling down through her arms. She didn’t like hearing that her efforts had been wasted. That he’d managed to maintain control around her for so long while she’d been suffering. Memories of those nights tossing and turning in her bed, wishing for James, hardened the muscles in her legs with frustration and she pushed, shoving backward. Simply to show she still could. That he hadn’t won yet. “Asshole.”
James’s hardness slipped from her body with a grunt, but he remained upright on his knees, his grip a touch looser on her hips. Enough for her to turn around and slap him across the face.
Lita’s back hit the ground a second later, adding to her shock that she’d struck him. James loomed above her to block out the filtered sunlight, pinning both wrists above her head and wedging his sweating body between her thighs. Concern swirled in the gray of his eyes, but not enough to block out the animal need there. No, his desire was visible and rampant, much like the flesh hanging between his thighs. “You know how to make me stop. And that’s not it.”
She ached to scream the words, just so he’d have to stop. Just so he’d have some idea of the pain she’d been in living without him. Knowing she might be required to do it again. But if he stopped, she would ache from now until her dying breath, would regret it with every cell in her body. She needed him. So she clamped her lips shut and fought to free her wrists, knowing full well he’d never let go.
But then, he did.
He freed her wrists.
It was so unexpected, her hands fell backward to frame her head. “What—”
James dropped down to interlock their lips, scrutinizing her as they breathed into one another’s mouths “You don’t really want me to stop.” Their lips slipped together in a sensual mating dance. “Do you? Lita?”
The touch of dread in his deep voice undid her. Before she could think of a response, Lita’s heart answered for her. “No.” She shook her head back and forth in the dirt. “Never.”
Before the word fully escaped her mouth, James entered her once more on an agonized groan, his mouth finding the side of her neck, sucking and biting as he started to move. His first few drives were even, controlled, but the drag of his stiffness over her clit drove Lita a little crazy. More. More. She clawed at his ass, arching her back, until she felt the now-familiar snap in his surrounding energy. Both of her knees were hooked beneath his arms immediately—and then he fucked her into the ground. Just as he’d said he would.
Teeth sunk into available flesh, fingers dug into muscle, hips collided, clothes were torn. Lita didn’t recognize the sounds coming from either of their mouths. They were desperate and foreign and often angry.
Their coupling turned rough. Violent. The lust for danger had built too long and now it took over, urging Lita to issue whispered challenges to James. Sometimes daring him to go harder, sometimes begging with
out shame. Those dares made him bare his teeth, picking up her body just to pin it back down with breath-stealing force, his bottom half never ceasing, pumping relentlessly.
“You little brat. I should have started fucking you a long time ago. Maybe you’d have some goddamn manners by now.” He shoved a forearm beneath her ass, lifting her lower body up to his lap to receive him. “Or maybe I just bought myself four years of relative sanity. I’m going to lose a little more of my mind every time you slip down onto my cock, aren’t I? Every time you breathe.”
Lita was teetering on the edge of something catastrophic. Air wheezed in and out of her lungs. Her leg muscles started to freeze up. The angle of James’s thrusts prodded a spot inside her that rendered her unable to form words, lest she disturb the brutal accuracy. Shit, shit…she couldn’t orgasm like this or she’d break apart into nothing. Too much—too—
Stars blinded Lita as the crisis powered through her lower body, clenching her every muscle in a way that made her instantaneously sore. Her scream sounded distant, like someone had turned down the volume on a movie. James covered her mouth with his own, meshing their bodies together as he rode out his climax above her, his masculine roar of relief muted against her lips. It wouldn’t end, ripples and shocks of pleasure spreading, a boulder dropped into a still pond. Her heels dug into the small of his back, her body writhing in the disturbed earth.
“James, James…I’m…I can’t.”
Her world tilted when James scooped her off the ground, cradling her on his lap and squeezing the limited amount of oxygen from her chest. “I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.” His lips skated over her features, lingering on her forehead. “Please, tell me you’re okay, Lita.”