Billi Jean

by Running Scared

  “Never can be too secure.”

  She didn’t know what to say, so she cleared a space for the sketches. “Ah, well, that’s true.”

  “You’re not from here, are you?”

  Glancing up, she paused and tilted her head. How did people know that? “No, I’m new. From New York.”

  His blue eyes lit up and he looked impressed. “What part? Upstate or the city?”

  “Upstate,” she lied. She was getting good at that, because his grin deepened. He had dimples, and was really handsome in a too-polished way. But, still, something about him wasn’t right. Not right in a way that was making her a bit nervous.

  After eyeing her speculatively, he glanced down at the sketches and was instantly involved in her work. “Amazing. Wow, this is amazing work…”

  “Ah, I’ll be right back. Sit—please, sit—I have to freshen up.” Change her panties, she was certain. And not think of Russell. And she really didn’t want to be alone with this guy suddenly.

  He glanced up, nodded, then sat, already sifting through the papers on her table. She felt a tiny bit better as he settled down—a tiny bubble of happiness at his reaction to her work. Her dad had always loved to see drawings before she allowed anyone else near them. She shrugged off her odd feeling. It was probably having another man here.

  Her bedroom gave her a relief from the guy. Even the empty bed looked welcoming. She’d got dark brown satin sheets in Spokane, and even painted the walls in here to be a softer, warmer masculine tone. A rich burnt cinnamon showcased the bed and the dark wood of the doors and windows. It looked sexy and cosy. And she couldn’t wait for Russell to be all over those sheets.

  Sighing, she cleaned her face and hands, hurriedly changed into a pair of French-cut black lace panties, fixed her thigh-highs and adjusted her skirt. She glanced at her makeup once and traced the faint white line of her scar. It was dulling out a bit more each day. She ran her fingertips over it lightly, thinking of how often Russ had pressed his lips there. Even in the middle of complete meltdown, he seemed to find that mark.

  God, she could not go ten seconds without thinking of him.

  And, if he was lucky, she might let him out of that bed after a few days. No more roundups, she was going to say, but froze. No more roundups? Who was she to say that? God, Lacey, get your act together.

  Frowning at herself in the mirror, she didn’t miss the way her face lit up when she thought of Russell, let alone how it softened at the thought of his rough hands on her skin. She cut the lights and headed back into the living room. There wasn’t really much she could do about it. She’d faced how much she missed Russell that first night.

  She needed to talk to Mandy. She needed a girlfriend. One that wasn’t here and involved with his best friend, and, heck, she couldn’t call Mandy out of the blue, especially when her friend probably thought her dead. Even her dad would have given her some insight into what the heck was going on.

  Russ had to bite his back teeth to keep his erection from nearly spilling down his jeans. He was so hot his jeans felt like some kind of torture device. His cock was strangled, ready to blow, his balls were on fire and there was only one thing keeping him from pulling his truck over and handling himself. He was three minutes from being inside Susan.

  Licking his lips, he grimaced as he shifted down. It hurt. His dick was throbbing, wondering what was up. First there’d been days of sex like he’d never dreamed, then nothing. Not even a hand job. He was in agony every night but he’d be damned if he’d have let any of the men know he was so desperate for Susan he was jacking off. Eagle had smirked at him, but the man had no room to talk since he was sporting an erection over missing his woman, too.

  Russell had stopped at the ranch for less than an hour after they’d had the cattle all accounted for. He’d showered, shaved and changed in record time. Now, he was practically breaking the sound barrier on the dirt road, trying to get to Susan’s house. He’d slowed once, but only because he’d nearly run over old Mac Carter in his rusty old Chevy, but Susan was going to be ready for him. He knew it. Knew she’d missed him. Knew she was waiting for him right now. He’d told her he’d be longer, but he knew she knew he’d be at her place before sundown. And he wanted her wet, hot and missing him as bad as he was missing her.

  His cock jerked, swelled, had no place to go in his Wranglers, and he grimaced. He needed hot and hard. Then he’d consider taking Susan a million other ways. Just thinking of other ways had his jaw clenching again. He wanted her mouth. He wanted to dominate and control her in ways he’d never considered before. Sex was sex. Not with Susan. He needed something more from her.

  This was Susan, though. Teasing, soft, warm Susan, and he wanted to show her a part of himself he’d never allowed any other woman to see. Would she like his fantasies?

  She’d like them. She was curious, adventurous and too willing and eager to explore. And he wanted to explore. He wanted much more than to explore. Fuck it, he wanted to claim her. He wanted to let her know she was his in the most basic, elemental way a man could, because he was still feeling something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t as it should be.

  He was falling, and falling deep. She was such a breath of sunshine. Even when she was quiet, she hummed with happiness—not out loud, but inside. Like a ray of light. And damn if he didn’t like her little teasing ways. And her smile. And how smart she was. She was strong, too. Such a tiny thing, but strong. He’d seen that the first day. Freezing on the side of the road and looking a bit scared, she was still brave enough to face down two strangers. Or plain stubborn enough.

  And stubborn she was. She would give him a run. She wasn’t all out crazy like Katya, but she was sneaky and blindsided a man. That teasing little look after he’d paddled her ass? Then her quick smack on his ass? He’d died and gone to heaven and was on his way there again as soon as he could park the truck and rip her clothes off.

  His blood chilled at the sight of a truck parked in her driveway. He didn’t miss the signs that the truck belonged to another man. Men had a way with their trucks women didn’t. White, neat, gun rack, dust on it, hay coming off the tailgate where it was closed. Familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

  And there went his erection. Harder if possible. Tighter. Possession and jealousy warred with anger. Lust and something close to murder. He’d never felt this way before outside of a fire-fight. He’d never wanted to lay claim to a woman so much that she’d never look at another. Never wanted one so bad that he’d willingly kill for her, until Susan.

  He fisted his hands on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, then slowly, one by one, let his fingers up from the death grip. He concentrated on breathing and glared at the truck again. Why? Who? And what the fuck?

  He was out of the truck and at her door before he’d even realised it. He slammed the door open and there they were. His vision constricted to Susan. Susan, dressed in a short skirt that hugged her ass and cupped the flesh he suddenly wanted to spread, fill, pound into, take and claim. In high heels, black silk stockings, creamy silk blouse and her dark hair down her back, she looked like a sexy office Goddess.

  She jumped, grabbed the table, her blue eyes widening in surprise. Then she gave him a look like he’d lost his fucking mind. Maybe he had.

  “Who the fuck is that?” he demanded, not taking his eyes off her.

  She narrowed her blue eyes to pure, pissed off warning slits.

  His erection, already impossibly swollen, pulsed painfully. His body rushed to a dangerous level of arousal. She was going to fight him. Holy hell, he wanted that. Wanted her wet and wild, and demanding more from him, at the same time that he demanded more from her. He was in bad, wasn’t he?

  “Russell Ryland, what kind of hello is that?” she demanded, hands on hips. She looked like some kind of enraged sex kitten. Pale silk blouse and, yeah, he could see the lace of her bra under that shirt, and her tight skirt, dark hose and those high heels were killers. Did she have no clue how sexy she look
ed? And she had a man in here with her. Alone.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “No.” She shook her head and a smile played at her lips—a tense, angry smile that would have set off warning bells, if all his blood wasn’t now pumping below the belt. Arms crossed, fingers doing that little dance, she glared up at him. “No, you didn’t.”

  “Susan.”

  The guy shifted, earned a quick, cold look that’d stopped men much tougher than this sunburnt bastard in their tracks. The bastard was big. Not as tall as Russell, but nearly. Broad shoulders, fit-looking, but with something off in his pale eyes.

  “Yeah, right. Hey, listen, you two, I’m Lance, Mr Ryland, I’ll—”

  Susan stepped over, still giving Russell that frown, as if that would keep him in line. She reached out and stopped the guy with a hand on his arm. She had no idea what Russell wanted to do to her for touching the guy. Hell, he didn’t even know.

  “No! No, you won’t Lance. You sit right back down; we’re not done with those specs.” She barely gave the blond-haired guy any notice. “Listen, Major, I’m not quite sure what Wild West movie you hopped out of—”

  “Listen, I’ve got what I needed, Susan. Thanks. I’ll call you when I get a chance to see these specs.” Glancing at his watch, the guy grimaced. “I got to run anyway. Mr Ryland, Susan.”

  With that, the bastard gathered up his papers and hit the door. The lock clicking into place was the only sound that filled the suddenly quiet house.

  “Russell, I can’t believe—”

  He didn’t even bother to listen.

  He had her arm and was halfway down the hall before she could open her mouth. He had Susan up against the closed bedroom door before whatever she was going to say could stop him.

  She was not happy. And that was an understatement. His balls clenched, burned, and his dick jerked at how much that turned him on. This woman—this tiny, delicate little thing—might very well be able to stand up to him. She was glaring, breathless, and was all but meeting him toe to toe about his behaviour. And, yeah, her attitude was turning him the hell on. But coming home to another man in his—

  All of a sudden, it hit him. This wasn’t his house. He didn’t even know if she was his woman.

  Her sunburst scar appeared white against her flushed face. Yeah, she was pissed off. He had a sinking feeling, now that the adrenaline was subsiding, that the bastard might have said ‘specs’. As in house plans. He’d glimpsed the drawings, the paper drafters she’d used, spread on the table.

  But he’d also seen something else. Susan’s nipples had been tight under her blouse. It soothed him somewhat to see they were harder now. Her breathing was erratic, and if he pushed her too-tiny skirt up over that luscious ass he was sure she’d be wet. But for what? The bleach-blond pansy?

  Or him?

  “You have three seconds to tell me what this is about, Russell, before I take out your plumbing.”

  That should not have turned him on, especially when she shifted her knee in warning. He shoved his thigh between those silky legs and tried to calm down. He was jealous. He wasn’t just jealous, he was nearly battle-ready. And so sexed up, his dick was demanding out.

  “Who was the guy?”

  “One.”

  Oh, yeah. She wanted a fight. He could see it.

  “You wear this for him?” He ran one hand up her silky stockings to her ass and discovered she was wearing a lacy thong and thigh-high stockings. Thigh-highs. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Had he ever been with a woman this sexy? Hell, no. “I don’t like other guys here. Not with you. Not alone.”

  She muttered something unflattering under her breath, but she wasn’t stopping his hand from cupping her ass. “Two.”

  “Sweetheart, you do not want to test me right now,” he warned, shifting her thigh up so he could dig his erection against her pussy.

  Her eyes darkened. She shrugged, lifting a brow mockingly at him, and licked her lips. Every ounce of him roared to claim her. Hell if he was holding back. His lips hit hers and took over. She didn’t fight, but she did rub that hot, tight little body over his. He had her legs around his waist in no time flat. She gripped his hair, tugging him down to devour his lips while she pressed and rubbed against him.

  “Russell, you ass. I waited for you, and this is how—”

  “Ah, baby, shhh.”

  He shoved a hand between them and struggled to free his aching cock. When she went to say something else, he bit her, right on the jaw, sucking the spot and then taking her mouth again. His cock was so ready it was dripping pre-cum all over his fist. One more second and he ripped off her panties, and then he was inside the tightest, hottest pussy he’d ever known.

  And she was wild.

  She clawed, bit him, whimpered and licked, eating him up as he kept shoving in, thrusting to get deep. She was with him all the way. She was his. All his.

  “This is mine, Susan. Fucking mine. Take it, baby, take it.”

  “Oh, God, Russell… More, more…”

  He groaned heavily into her mouth and thrust his tongue in, wanting to eat her alive. He gripped her ass in both hands and shoved her up against the door with his weight, shafting her so fast and deep he was going to come any second. His cock was on fire. He was lost to it, to her, to this woman, so badly he could barely hold back. He should be ashamed, shocked at his behaviour, but—thank fuck—Susan was just as hot. She met him with her own little thrusts, digging those heels in his ass, her nails in his shoulders as she kissed every inch of him she could reach. He ripped her silk blouse off, and buttons went flying as he jerked her lacy bra out of the way, freeing her plump breasts, and latched on to a stiff peak. Sweet flesh filled his mouth, and he sucked on her nipple so hard his body thought it was time to celebrate.

  “Russell, you jerk! I missed you,” she whispered, panting, then locked her feet tighter around him, her heels bouncing on his ass as she arched in his arms like a cat. An agonised breath later, her pussy began milking his cock as she climaxed with a wail.

  He strangled back a groan at how fucking perfect she was, and exploded. They kissed through it, holding each other’s sounds in as they crested and shuddered. He came in bursts, thick jets of semen creaming out of him as he shoved as deep as he could go into her, banging her against the door with each desperate jerk of his hips. It wasn’t enough, yet it was too much. His cock was wrapped in wet, tight Susan, and he was shuddering and biting her mouth at how good it felt. Holding her ass too tight in his hands, he filled her with as much of his cock as he could as she climaxed again.

  The last shudder ripped through him, and he shoved up, burying himself to the balls. A groan rumbled up and out of him as a burst of pleasure rippled up his balls and down to his toes.

  She was as breathless, and, thank fuck, she was rubbing her lips over his jaw and not beating his ass for bursting in her house, then dragging her off like some caveman and fucking her. He wasn’t even completely certain if she’d come twice or three times. She’d clenched so tightly around his cock he could still feel her shivering up and down his dick.

  She’d been hot for him. Not that pansy. But still, he’d better do some quick talking or he might end up on his ass.

  “Goddamn, your pussy is so fucking hot and tight. You were wet for me, baby.”

  She lifted her head from where she’d been kissing his neck, as quickly as if he’d slapped her cute ass. She blew out a long breath against his cheek and glared at him.

  Maybe that hadn’t been the right thing to say.

  “Russell, I’ve been wet for you for four days! And then you pull this macho—”

  He broke her off with a kiss, trying his damnedest not to laugh at her, scolding him while she was still wringing his cock with her little shivers. Just to show her who was in charge, he angled his hips and drove upwards, rocking her against the door, and let his hands cradle her perfect ass, tantalisingly close to her tiny rosebud entrance.

  She moaned into his mouth and her pussy fluttere
d and clenched. God, he loved making her come. Fucking loved it. He sucked on her neck, leaving his mark on her pale skin. Slowly, he rocked into her, feeling her come off her orgasm in small, fluttering degrees around his cock. He was still as stiff as a baseball bat, willing and ready to take her to bed for the rest of the night. But first, he needed to set some ground rules.

  Her head hit the door with a soft thud, and she reached out and cupped his face. “Russell, you were jealous.”

  “Fuck that—”

  “Russell, do you really want to deny it? Or cuss at me right now? Because, seriously, you were jealous and look what we’ve done. My client—yes, that’s right, my client—had to leave because of your macho, jealous act,” she told him.

  He wanted to deny it, but she was right.

  She blew out a breath that sounded like a disgruntled mutter of, “Men are such babies,” but he wasn’t quite certain so he let that one go.

  A client. That was great. “You took the job?”

  She rolled her eyes, shook her head and then leaned it on his shoulder with a sigh. Fuck, he could understand her frustration with him; he’d just fucked her up against a door. His dick was out of his jeans, he was fully clothed, and he was pulsing in her pussy. Her wet, tight, beautiful pussy that he was going to eat for days. When he backed off and his dick slid out, they both groaned. “Damn, you’re beautiful, Sunshine.”

  “God, Russell, we’re terrible.”

  He burst out laughing at her scandalised voice. He set her down, a hell of a lot more gently than he’d picked her up, and kissed her mouth. Not in apology, exactly, but close. Gently, he unclipped her bra and pulled it off her shoulders, revealing her soft, rounded breasts. Beautiful. She had red marks on her shoulders where the straps had pulled, and he brushed a kiss against the skin there. He’d been too rough. “I’m sorry, baby. I don’t share and I don’t like men in the house when I’m not here. Let’s make that a rule, all right?” He tucked her under his chin and held her. She fitted him.

  “Russell, I took the job. And you ran off my first client! And I have to have clients out here. I work from home. Remember?” she whispered, narrowing her eyes up at him when he let her pull back enough to see her face. “Oh, Russell…” She glanced down at him tucking himself back in his jeans and sighed. “You are in so much trouble.”