“Oh shit!” She laughs, trying to run faster, but she’s no match.
I tear through the night after her, and against my better judgment I make a diving tackle for her when I catch up, sending us both to the ground in a tangle of limbs and flesh. She ends up on top of me, straddling my waist with her hips and panting. A streak of dirt runs from her forehead to her nose, and the sight of her dirtied up, even a little, has me ready to absolutely ravage her.
“You devious little--”
“What?” she says with a playful smile. “What were you going to call me?”
“I was going to call you a flirt,” I say. “But if you want me to get mean…”
“No,” she laughs. “I like flirt.” She runs a finger down my chest, biting her lip in that way of hers that drives me up the wall. “Because how could I not flirt with you?”
“Fair question, but when I’ve got you on your back and I’ve got a hard-on to end all hard-ons, I’d appreciate it if I didn’t have to chase after you.”
“I’m not worth a little chase?” she asks, making a half-attempt at looking pouty.
I laugh. “You are. But have you ever tried running with an erection?”
“Surprisingly, no. But you keep talking about this hard-on of yours. I think I’ll have to see it for myself.”
I don’t need to be asked twice. I strip off my briefs from beneath her and then flip her onto her back so I can climb above her. My erection presses between her legs so the head of my cock digs into the soft fabric of her panties. I grind myself into her slightly until I feel the warm wet patch over her entrance.
“Seems like I’m not the only one who was looking forward to this,” I say, bending my neck to kiss her hard nipple.
“It was a bit of a rush watching you come sprinting after me. I guess you know a man really wants it when he’ll chase you down like a vicious predator.”
“Don’t ever doubt that I want you, Mila. I’ll still want you when you’re ninety and using a walker to get around. Hell, you may need a walker by tomorrow after I’m done with you.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Grandpa Lucas, huh? So you’re saying you still want to be with me when you’re ninety?”
I shrug. I don’t normally get ahead of myself at all, but with Mila, I can’t seem to stop myself. “I’m not interested in a fling, darlin’. I want the whole deal. I want everything. Maybe that makes me selfish, but there it is.”
“If that makes you selfish, I’ll take it. But are you going to kick me out of the bed when I’m ninety-one?”
“That’s a tough one. But I think we could still get dirty in the field as long as we bring knee pads.”
She laughs, giving me the most adorably beautiful smile. I look down at her face, drinking in every detail, from the way her eyes narrow into slits when she laughs, or how her whole body tries to fold in with the force of her amusement. I love every bit of it, every last fucking bit.
I kiss her neck, taking my time to enjoy the taste of her and how my touch makes her melt into the ground. Her small hands move across my back, squeezing and pulling while I kiss my way up to her chin and finally her mouth, swirling my tongue with hers. I cup her breast, squeezing harder than I probably should, but I can’t help myself.
Whether it’s the full moon above us, the grass rustling around us, or the cool earth against my hand and knees, something electric runs through me, overcharging my lust until it’s a force I can barely control, like an eruption I can only stifle but not contain. I suck in rapid breaths as I kiss and nibble at her lip playfully, moving my hips and grinding my cock against her, loving the way her panties are soaking through, but I need more, I need them off.
I’m losing track of how many pairs of her panties I’ve ruined, but I don’t stop now. I can’t stop. I grip her waistband and tug them off, tossing them into the grass beside us. She shivers, and my cock finds the amazing warmth of her slit while I maneuver my hips so that the head of my cock is notched at her entrance, teasing us both with the barest taste of me being buried inside her before sliding up and grazing against her clit with every rock of my hips.
I plant both my hands in the dirt, gripping the grass and earth between my fingers while I control every thrust and the path of my cock to continue driving her toward bliss.
She throws her head back, giving me a view of the supple, white skin of her neck and the way her pulse races with every beat of her heart. I steal a few kisses, tasting the warmth of her body and the subtle throb of her pumping blood.
I can’t get enough of the intimacy of it, of being connected to her in so many ways, not just through our bodies but through nature and the ranch and what we’ve been through. It feels like a culmination, like every moment we’ve shared is coming together into a single, unstoppable crescendo that will make waves through the rest of our lives.
As much as I try, I can’t hold back any longer. With a careful thrust, I drive my length inside her. I don’t spare her with a slow, gradual entry. Instead, I press myself inside with one smooth motion, drawing a gasp of surprise from her. I watch as her fingers dig into the dirt, just like I wanted, like she’s holding on for dear life for fear of being blasted away from this spot if she lets go.
Her pussy clenches around my cock, choking it in a perfectly tight, warm embrace I never want to end.
“You’re so fucking tight.”
“No,” she gasps. “You’re just so big.”
I find my rhythm, rocking in and out of her, loving the way the slap of my body against hers rings out into the still night air.
I lose track of time, of everything. There’s only the movement of my body and hers, the warmth of her pussy clenching around me, the soft tickle of her breath washing over my shoulder as her gasps become harder and faster, as we both near our peak.
“I’m going to cum. Fuck,” I growl.
“Don’t pull out,” she gasps. “I want it. I want it all.” Her hands squeeze my ass, pulling me into her, urging me deeper.
“Careful what you say,” I warn, knowing I won’t be able to stop myself right now, that the mounting orgasm I feel building within me is blinding me to all reason and sense.
“Please. Fill me. Cum inside me,” she gasps, throwing her head back and squeezing her eyes shut. “I want it so bad, Lucas. Please.”
“Fuck,” I roar. My body tenses and I pound into her, shouting into the darkness with my release as my cock pulses and fills her with my cum.
Her pussy tightens around me, like her body is trying to milk me of every last drop, like she wants it so badly even her pussy can’t get enough.
I have to dig my fingers into the ground to stop from collapsing on her as the longest, most intense orgasm I’ve ever felt rips through me, shredding apart everything but the blinding white pleasure coursing through my veins.
Distantly, I see and hear Mila’s moans of ecstasy. She squirms beneath me with my cock still buried in her, languidly running her fingers over her mound and her clit, strengthening my orgasm with every slight brush of her fingers against my cock and with the friction of her pussy.
I lose track of time as we lay there in the grass together, still joined together, feeling a faint sense of surprise that no regret is creeping in as my senses return to me. I came inside her, and I’m glad I did. I must seriously be crazy if I think I’m ready to have a kid with a woman I haven’t even known two weeks, but fuck it--maybe I am crazy. I honestly couldn’t care less if it means being with Mila. There’s nothing else. Just the unstoppable desire to have her in every way possible and to never let go.
“Did we really just do that?” she asks long after I’ve pulled myself out of her and rolled to the grass beside her where we lay, fingers entwined.
“You regret it?” I ask.
“No. Is that strange?”
“If it is, then we’re both strange. I fucking loved it.”
She rolls her head to the side to look at me. She takes her hand from mine and puts it to my cheek, moving her
eyes deliberately from my gaze to my lips, to my hair, and my jaw.
I chuckle. “What?”
“I’m just trying to take it all in. Everything has happened so fast in so many ways, but in others it feels like it has been forever. I know you better than I knew men I dated for months, but then at the same time it feels like this has all been so brief and fast I could wake up and it’d all be a dream.” She laughs at herself, looking down self-consciously. “I’m just making sure if I do wake up from all this that I remember you. I never want to forget your face. I don’t want to forget your smell, how it feels to kiss you. I don’t want to lose any of it.”
“Hey,” I say, cupping her cheek and kissing her. “I’m not going anywhere. And even if I was just a figment of your imagination I’d follow your ass back to reality. I’d find a way.”
She laughs. “Somehow I think you would.”
“See? You already know me so well.”
75
Mila
Getting out of the house before Lucas woke up wasn’t easy by any stretch. I learned over the past week that he’s up before the sun every day, and happy to be at that. I wish I could say the same as I drag my tired self out of the car and up to the local sheriff's house. But if I know Lucas at all, and oddly enough, I think I know him very well already, he’s going to give up the ranch to keep me safe.
I can’t let him do that. Maybe he thinks he’ll get over it, or that it’s the honorable thing to do. Whatever his reasons, I know one thing. When I first talked to him about his father by the lake and watched the way his eyes grew distant and pained, I saw how much the ranch means to him. It’s not just a piece of land. It’s a part of his past, and a part of his father. To him, if he never finds peace with the ranch he’ll never find peace with his father, and I can’t let him give that away for me.
Besides, I think I’ve got the perfect plan.
I knock on the door of the sheriff's house and wait, feeling more than a little nervous. It can’t be much past four in the morning, and I’m definitely waking him.
It’s nearly a minute before the door swings open to reveal a man in his fifties who squints up at me from baggy eyes. “This had better be good, sweetheart. I was in the middle of a dream about Vannah White, and she was about to show me something really nice.”
I clear my throat, trying not to laugh. “I need your help, actually. I know you probably have no idea who I am, but--”
“You’re the new girl. The reporter, right? Came to town a few days, caused a big fuss with Lucas and Cynthia, then you and Lucas disappeared together. You better believe I know who you are.”
“Oh,” I say, a little taken aback.
“It’s a small town and there’s really not much to keep an officer of the law busy around here. When someone new shows up, I keep tabs,” he says with a shrug. “You said you had a problem?”
“Yes, well, um. This is going to sound insane, but I think someone is trying to kidnap me. Someone you might know. Ronnie Tate?” I say, pulling nervously at my fingers.
He narrows his eyes and leans against the wall before spitting a ball of phlegm past me to the grass outside. “Know ‘em? Yeah, you could say that.”
“Okay… well, I was thinking maybe you could help me catch him in the act.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Like a trap?”
“Yes! Exactly. I was thinking maybe I could wait somewhere in public and you could follow me with a couple officers once I leave. That way, if Ronnie tries anything, you’ll be there to stop it and arrest him.”
He purses his lips thoughtfully. “This doesn’t sound strictly legal, you know.”
I let out a disappointed breath, feeling the hope I’ve been starting to nurture drain out of me suddenly. “So you can’t help?”
“I didn’t say that. Did I? Come in. I’ll get some coffee started. Whatever we do, I’m not about to do it without caffeine.”
I step inside the house and take a seat at the small kitchen table, which is nicked and scratched from years of use, like almost everything in the house. He pours the coffee grounds into a surprisingly nice looking coffee machine, but I guess, as a cop, he probably makes a priority of having his coffee made the way he likes. Still, it looks oddly out of place in a home that has clearly been furnished on a tight budget.
He gets the coffee started, brushes imaginary dust from his hands, and gives me an odd look. “Well, I’ve got to take a leak. If you’ll excuse me,” he says, moving toward a bedroom to my right. I catch a glimpse inside the room when he opens the door and have to do a double take at the size of the TV on his wall. It must be seventy inches. That, and the wardrobe beside his bed was some sort of perfectly maintained polished wood that looked incredibly expensive.
I tap my fingers on the table, mind buzzing as a growing sense of unease creeps over me. But why should a few nice things get my hairs standing on end? So what? The small-time cop clearly lives by himself, and he probably just saves up his paychecks for a splurge here and there. It’s really not groundbreaking, and it’s no reason to start acting weird.
I manage to calm down a little, but soon I’m wondering how long it takes him to use the bathroom. I glance at the clock, not sure exactly how long I’ve been waiting, but sure it must be at least five minutes by now.
With a pounding heart, I decide to take a small risk. I stand and creep as quietly as I can toward his room. I hear the officer’s voice coming through the wall as a muted rumble. I have to press my ear to the door to make out what he’s saying.
“...then hurry the hell up,” he whispers. “Her little boyfriend could be on the way for all I know, and I don’t want to be here when the shit hits the fan.”
I frown, backing slowly away from the door. I don’t know exactly what I just heard, but I don’t need to. I know enough. I can’t trust this man, and I should’ve never come here by myself. I turn to leave, but just as I’m passing through the front door, I hear the sound of heavy footsteps following me.
I break into a run, scrambling to fish my keys from my purse, but trying to dig them out while I’m running at full speed is almost impossible. I come to a stumbling stop by my door, slamming into the car and dropping my bag in my haste. “Shit!” I gasp, falling to my knees and rummaging for the keys. I don’t dare take my eyes from my search, but his footsteps are getting closer. Louder.
My fingers wrap around the keys and just as I’m pulling them from my bag, a hand clasps around my shoulder.
I scream, falling back and taking a wild swing with the key toward the man.
He jerks his hand back. “Fucking bitch,” he growls, quickly regaining his composure and lunging for me.
I scramble backwards, narrowly dodging his attempt to grab me. I get back to my feet, but he’s not far behind me when I take off toward the main street of town, which is at least a quarter mile from his isolated home.
It’s not long before I’ve put considerable distance between us, but the sandals I’m wearing make running awkward and tiring. My lead slowly shrinks, and I can soon hear the wheezing breath of the sheriff getting closer and closer.
I can see the town not too far away, but this early in the morning, I know I would still need to make it a decent ways into town to find any hope of help. I won’t make it. There’s no way.
I stop abruptly, turning to face him as he comes barreling towards me, huffing and puffing. He makes a lurching grab for me, throwing his weight behind the motion. I sidestep him with fractions of a second to spare and immediately strip my sandals, throw them at his prone form for good measure, and take off back in the direction of my car.
It shouldn’t be that taxing of a run, but I’m not exactly in marathon shape, and by the time I reach my car, the sheriff has nearly caught up with me. I shove the key in the lock with shaking hands, open the door, yank it shut, and hit the locks. A split second later, the sheriff comes slamming into my window, face full of fury.
I turn on the car and drive, not even caring if I run over his
toes. He jumps back as I pull off, but I see him running inside, probably to grab his keys and come after me.
“Shit, shit, shit!” I scream, slamming my hands on the wheel as I drive as fast as I dare away from his house. I feel like an idiot. A complete idiot. Although I suppose it’s a forgivable mistake to think I can go to the police for help without them turning out to be some corrupt slime bag who wants to help the people trying to kidnap me and steal Lucas’ ranch.
Either way, I should’ve just told Lucas what I was planning. At least he’d know where to find me if something went wrong. Damn it.
I just need to get back to the ranch. One way or another, I know if I’m back with him, everything will be fine. I just need to get back.
But just as I take the north road out of town and toward the ranch, I see two black cars come tearing up the main street of town, straight toward me. I push the gas down as far as it goes, but my crummy little car just groans with effort and barely increases pace.
The cars are gaining on me, and I can even see the sheriff's cruiser with its lights on not far behind now. I drive straight through gate in front of Lucas’ ranch, laying on the horn and praying he hears in time to help.
The front door to the ranch swings open in the distance, and I see Lucas emerge with a rifle in his hand. My relief is only temporary, because when I look in my rearview, all the cars are gone. I come to an abrupt stop just in front of Lucas’ ranch.
He sets the rifle down on the porch and rushes to the car to help me out, cupping the back of my neck carefully and checking my face. Concern is written all over his features. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry. I was trying to find a way to keep you from selling the ranch,” I say, turning to look over my shoulder. I pause, staring toward the broken gate and watching with bewilderment. “Where did they go?”
“Where did who go? And you realize you drove straight through my gate, right?”
“I’m sorry about the gate, but there were cars chasing me. The sheriff was one of them.”
Savage: A Bad Boy Next Door Romance Page 44