Dark Horse: Bad Boy Cowboy Romance

by Westlake, Samantha

  "Are you okay?" he asked gently, his hands rising up towards me to touch me - but pausing before they made contact, as if he felt afraid that I'd shatter at a touch. "How do you feel?"

  I shook my head. All of a sudden, I became acutely aware of the blood pounding in my ears, so loud that I could barely hear anything else. The fuzziness in my head intensified, and I suddenly felt myself wobbling on my feet, barely able to stay vertical.

  I teetered forward, and Lance's arms were suddenly around me, the only thing keeping me from falling forward and hitting the floor just like my fiancé had done a minute previously. "I think I might faint," I murmured into his arms.

  Lance carefully steadied me, and then peered a little closer. "Your color doesn't look good. I'm going to take you upstairs."

  He turned first to Marsden, however, leveling one finger down at the man's face. I saw Marsden's eyes almost cross as they tried to focus on the fingertip hovering right in front of him.

  "You need to lay right there and not move," Lance commanded, his volume soft but his words absolutely dripping with menace and anger. "If I come down and find that you've moved, at all, I'm going to find you, drag you back here - and I won't be gentle about it. And then, once I get you back here, I'm going to tie you down. Understand?"

  Something about Lance's slight Southern drawl lent extra tension and gravity to his words. Despite looking nearly cross-eyed as he tried to watch the finger hovering in front of his face, Marsden immediately nodded, and his expression looked thoroughly cowed.

  "Good." With that last word, Lance dismissed my fiancé completely from his mind, instead turning back to me. Once again, I saw his expression switch from rage to nothing but open concern.

  "Still feel unsteady?" he asked me, watching me as I tried to lift my hand to take a step forward - but then let it fall back.

  I nodded. "Yeah. My head hurts."

  Lance nodded, as if he'd been expecting this - and then his arms slid forward, slipping around me. Before I knew what was happening, he was lifting me up off of my feet, picking me up in his arms like a child.

  "Hey, you don't need to do this," I protested, but the words were half-hearted. Besides, he seemed to have no problem hefting me up, lifting me as though I weighed next to nothing. "I can walk!"

  "Better safe than sorry," he replied, giving me a little smile despite tightly pressed together lips. "Now, let's get you upstairs."

  Lance carried me out of the living room, pausing only to use one elbow to whack at the light switch and turn it off to leave Marsden in the darkness. Remembering how many martinis the man had tossed back at dinner, I suspected that he'd be sleeping and snoring loudly in a matter of minutes.

  Still cradling me in his arms, Lance easily ascended up the stairs, using one foot to push open the door to my room. The lights inside were off, but enough came in from the hallway for him to navigate to the large queen bed in the middle of the room, where he gently laid me down.

  Once I was out of his arms, Lance reached over and turned on the bedside lamp, bending forward to examine where Marsden had hit me. His fingers gently traced around the edge of the site of impact, but I still winced despite his tenderness.

  "Skin's not broken, at least," Lance murmured, as much to himself as to me. "You'll have a bruise, but hopefully nothing more. Can you remember your name? Where you are?"

  "I wish I couldn't," I groaned, squirming around a little in the sea of blankets and pillows, but then immediately regretting the motion as a ray of pain shot through my head and made me wince again. "But yes. Lance, you didn't have to punch him."

  Lance didn't reply to that. He just shook his head, as if the idea of not defending me didn't even deserve to be acknowledged. He looked down at me for another long minute, some emotion in his eyes and expression that I couldn't quite place, and then started to stand up.

  I reached out and caught at his arm. "No, wait. Please."

  He stopped, startled, looking back down at me. "What? I'll check on Marsden, make sure that he's at least not going to die - although I'll probably kick him out first thing tomorrow morning, as soon as he's sober enough to drive his fancy car home. But after that, I'll be right next door, in my bedroom-"

  "No, please," I repeated, still resting my hand on top of his. I didn't have any strength to grip his fingers with my own, but he didn't pull his hand away. "Stay."

  For another long second, I could see Lance hesitating, torn. I tried to keep my eyes focused on him. I felt myself starting to slip away towards unconsciousness, but I fought against that temptation to relax, fought to stay awake until he agreed.

  "Okay," he finally gave in, shaking his head a little - although whether he was shaking his head at me, or at himself, I couldn't say. "I'll stay."

  He nudged me, and I scooted over a little to make room for him in the bed. Lance grabbed one of the pillows from where it dangled almost off the side of the bed, shoved it under his head, and then laid on his back, gazing up at the ceiling. After a moment, he kicked off his boots, letting them thump down, one by one, on the floor.

  I turned on my side, pressing my back up against the man next to me. Even through his clothes, through my dress that I still wore, I could feel the heat of Lance's body. He was a warm, comforting presence beside me. My cheek still hurt and stung, but with the cowboy lying beside me, I knew that Marsden wouldn't bother me any more.

  Finally, almost gratefully, I dropped back off to sleep.

  Chapter twenty-three

  When I next opened my eyes, I could feel, without even looking at the clock, that it was early in the morning.

  This was odd, I thought to myself. I didn't usually wake up before nine or ten in the morning most days, not without the help of an alarm. I almost never managed to wake up on my own at an early hour - but I knew, somehow, that it was early now.

  Still feeling comfortable in the fog of sleepiness still wrapped around my brain, I rolled over to check my bedside clock - but stopped short as I felt myself bump up against another body, laying in bed beside me.

  Marsden? I sleepily thought. I'd seen him the other night, I vaguely remembered - but had he actually stayed the night?

  And then, like a tidal wave, all my memories of the previous night came rushing back to me.

  For a moment, every muscle in my body went rigid as I remembered the events that had happened just before I fell asleep. Marsden had gotten drunk at dinner, and then when I brought up the question of wedding planning, whether he was just trying to dodge my questions regarding it because he might be feeling nervous or having second thoughts, he instead accused me of cheating on him!

  And then...

  I raised one hand up, tugging it free of the blankets that covered me, and gingerly brushed a fingertip against my cheek. Sure enough, I could feel the sting of a bruise. And then, when I shouted back at him, Marsden had hit me.

  I still couldn't quite wrap my head around that idea. He hit me. My fiancé, the man I'd agreed to marry, to spend the rest of my life with, had drunkenly raised a hand against me when I confronted him.

  And then... my memories kept on filling in, even when I wanted them to pause. And then, Lance had appeared out of nowhere, stopping Marsden as he pulled back his hand to hit me again - and striking my fiancé first, sending him sprawling down to the floor.

  Lance had carried me upstairs afterwards, I recalled, despite my vague protests that I was all right, really. I hadn't yet adjusted to the realization of what was going on, and I remembered feeling about to faint. But my lodger scooped me up in his arms, carried me up to my bed, and carefully set me down.

  And then, as he'd started to stand up to leave, I'd reached out and taken his arm, asking him to stay.

  So that meant, I reasoned out, that the person next to me had to be...

  Carefully moving slowly so as not to disturb the bed and wake the sleeping man beside me, I lifted myself up enough to see his face.

  Sure enough, Lance lay beside me, his mouth slightly part
ed as he breathed slowly and deeply.

  On the far side of the man, the clock told me that it was only just after six in the morning. The very first strands of sunlight were breaking in through the window of my bedroom, just barely managing to reach where my head had lain on the pillow.

  Moving with exaggerated caution, I rolled the other way, climbing up out of bed on the other side so that I didn't disturb Lance. I looked down at the wrinkled, dirty white dress that I'd picked out to wear the night before. Somehow, the idea of being in a white dress, as if I was getting married, made me feel almost nauseous, and I quickly stripped out of it, replacing it with a tee shirt and a pair of flannel shorts.

  I padded carefully down the hall, freezing at each little creak of the floorboards beneath my feet. I descended the stairs a step at a time, my ears peeled for any other noises, trying to squat down so that I could see into the living room.

  Finally, I made it down far enough to see into the living room - and to see that the couch was empty, no one lying on it.

  My brow furrowed for a moment in confusion. Had he left? I turned and instead tiptoed into the front hall, peering out through the window in my front door.

  Sure enough, my guess was correct - the silver Mercedes was no longer parked in front of my house. I could even see a couple of deep ruts leading away; it looked as though, when driving away, Marsden had nearly slipped off of the road a couple times as he pushed his heavy foot down on the car's accelerator pedal.

  For a minute, I just stood there, not sure what to do next. Should I call the man? I felt a huge disconnect, but I didn't know what to do or say about it.

  After a few seconds of just standing there, listening to the birds beginning to chirp outside, I instead turned around and headed back up to my room, where I crawled back into bed. As soon as my head reached the pillow, I felt sleep come rising up to claim me once again.

  The next time I opened my eyes was when the bed suddenly shifted a little. My eyes snapped open, and I sat up - only to see Lance, beside me, propping himself up with his hands behind him, looking back at me with equally wide eyes at my sudden reaction.

  "Oh, you're awake," he exclaimed, after the initial moment of shock passed. "Um, how do you feel?"

  "A little overwhelmed," I replied after a moment, settling back once I was sure that Marsden wasn't about to come popping out of my closet like a boogeyman. "Did you really hit Marsden last night?"

  Lance frowned, and for a moment I saw the same iron expression he'd shown the night before. "He hit you first. I would do it again."

  "And I think I'd be okay with that," I admitted after a second's consideration. "And you stayed here with me after."

  At that, he chuckled wryly. "Not my intention, but I fell asleep." He glanced over at the door. "I should probably head downstairs and check if that idiot is still here, and kick him out if he is."

  I reached out and put my arm around Lance to pull him back down as he started to sit forward in preparation for standing up. "He's gone," I said. "I woke up earlier this morning and checked. He's not on the couch, and his car's gone from my driveway."

  I tugged Lance back down onto the bed beside me with my arm. He let himself be pulled, and settled back down next to me. I could still feel him tensing, however, as if he expected to be attacked at any moment.

  After a minute of silence, I propped myself up on one arm, turning to look at the cowboy lying beside me. "I don't know what to do now," I said, the words slow but truthful.

  Lance turned his head to look back at me. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, with Marsden, the wedding - everything!" I made a helpless gesture in the air. "The whole reason he blew up the other night is because I pressed him about the wedding, pointing out that he isn't doing anything to help, that I can't handle it all on my own. But instead of helping, he yelled back at me, accusing me of cheating and trying to sabotage things! How can I be sabotaging things, if I'm the only one pushing things forward?"

  I didn't expect Lance to have an answer. I just wanted him to listen to me as I vented. "And then he hit me!" I burst out, almost shaking with anger. "I never thought he'd ever do something like that - and I've always sworn that I'd never be with a man like that! What am I supposed to do?"

  I turned and glared at the man beside me, wishing that an answer would come out of the air and just hit me. Lance, however, just blinked, and then slowly reached out for my hand.

  "I think," he slowly replied, "that maybe it's time for you to get rid of this."

  And as he spoke, he slowly drew the engagement ring off of my ring finger, letting it drop into his open palm.

  I stared down at the ring, the source of so much happiness at one point in my life, but the source of so much frustration and helpless anger now. Even still, part of me wanted to grab it, put it back on.

  I recognized that part of me as my fear, my panic about the unknown future. What if this was my one chance at happiness, and I was throwing it away? What if this was just a single mistake, and if I didn't forgive Marsden for it, I'd never have another chance to find love, to find happiness and contentment?

  Bullshit, the rest of my mind countered. I'd always promised myself that I would never tolerate an abusive relationship. When one of my friends had insisted that she was "stuck" with a man who hit her, I helped that friend leave the man, and made sure that he was prosecuted and punished for his choices. I always told myself that it would never happen to me.

  And now, I didn't want to make the same hard choices for myself?

  No, I told myself. I was stronger than that. I could find someone else, someone who made me truly happy. I remembered Lance's words to me - things should feel natural, as if it couldn't possibly happen any other way.

  That was what I wanted.

  In a sudden, impulsive movement, I grabbed the ring off of Lance's open palm. I clenched it tightly for a moment in my fist - and then pitched it across the room, as hard as I could. I heard it hit the far wall with a satisfying clink.

  "Wow," Lance exclaimed, as I grinned, feeling my heart pumping hard, adrenaline rushing through me. "That was quite the gesture!"

  I grinned down at him. "And I meant it," I said, smiling so wide that I felt like the top of my head might fall off at any moment. "I'm done with that asshole! I'm deciding right now!"

  My smile was infectious, and I saw a matching expression slowly appear on Lance's face as well. "So, what next?"

  It was a good question. I should probably stop, think about my next move carefully. I wouldn't want to make any rash choices now, right?

  No, I said to myself, still fueled by that rush of adrenaline pouring through me. I was done with carefully thinking.

  I jumped forward, pressing myself up against Lance's body, and my lips found his.

  Chapter twenty-four

  No more thinking, I suddenly said to myself. No more over-analyzing, no more waffling back and forth on every little decision. I was going to decide what I wanted, and as soon as I knew, I was going to go for it.

  So, as Lance smiled back at me, I leaned forward, pressing my body up against his, and kissed him, right on the lips.

  For a moment, I felt him freeze beneath me, his body going rigid with shock and surprise. If I'd been any more cautious, I might have backed away, but I leaned in - and an instant later, I felt his tension melt away as he finally responded, his hands reaching up to wrap around me.

  Any thoughts in my head might have ruined this, might have filled me with worry and concern about what this meant. Was I cheating on my fiancé? Technically, we were still together, even if we'd crossed an unforgivable line before I even considered kissing Lance. Was this all a mistake?

  But thankfully, those thoughts never appeared - and instead, I simply luxuriated in the moment, feeling his big, strong arms pressing against my back, squeezing my entire body in up against his own hard length.

  I broke apart for a quick gasp of air, but then dove right back in - and this time, I felt pressure
on my lips as he pushed forward, his lips parting so that his tongue could emerge. I opened up my own to receive it, meeting his questing tongue with my own. I could taste him, that unmistakeable manliness, as his tongue powerfully wrapped around my own, caressing, exploring the insides of my mouth.

  I leaned forward as we kept on kissing, and with a single tug, he pulled me up on top of him! I could feel the fabric of his jeans pressing against my bare thighs, and I spread my legs wide to brace myself on either side of his hips.

  Through my shirt, I felt my nipples growing hard, with only the thin, soft fabric of the cotton tee separating them from Lance. His arms, still wrapped around my back with his hands pressing flat against my shoulders, pulled me up close against him, squishing our bodies together so we could feel everything.

  After the next momentary pause for air, I kept on kissing him - but now, I dropped my hands down from where they'd been wrapped around his neck. I sank my fingertips into his shirt, pulling it up out of where it had been partially tucked into the waist of his jeans. I pulled it up, pushing it up his torso towards his shoulders, until I could feel the heat of his bare skin exposed beneath.

  Lance didn't just sit still and take this. As I sat up a little to pull on his shirt, arching my back forward so I could keep kissing him, his hands dropped down to my waist - and then further! He wrapped both of his big hands around my ass, fingers digging in and squeezing, sliding me forward and backward slightly so that I could grind on his crotch.

  I could feel that grinding motion getting to me through the thin flannel boxers! I had to break off from our kiss and gasp, a short little gasp of pleasure, as he pushed down so that the rough hardness of his jeans pressed against that sensitive area between my legs.

  "God, yes," I murmured, sucking in another breath before returning back to tugging the man's shirt up. Damn his broad shoulders, making it impossible for me to get his shirt off of that sexy, muscular body beneath!