by Vivian Wood
The first time she was merely surprised. The fourth she was breathless. By the seventh time that her hips moved, she was panting. She was soaking wet, so needy that she found her voice.
“Please, Colt… please…” she begged.
“You want more?” he said against her ear.
“God, yes.”
“Get ready to ride, then.”
He stopped moving her hips, fisting his cock so it stood up straight. She was too needy to be hesitant about things. She quickly took him in, rocking back and forth. Her slickness helped things, although she wasn’t used to anything nearly so big.
She felt perfectly stretched, filled almost to completion. He touched all the places she wanted him to without thought, grinding against her.
He groaned as his hands came up to grasp her hips again. “Fuck, Rose.”
As soon as she took the entire length of him, sighing with pleasure, he started to move. He pulled out, then slid himself back in again.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, Colt.”
She held herself still as he began to move in earnest, thrusting up into her. She threw her head back, beginning to move in time with each stroke.
He was so good, so big. He hit all the spots inside her that were sensitive, and in just the right way, making her moan.
He moved one hand from her hip to her breast, tweaking a nipple. The added stimulation was just enough to put her in sensory overload again. She let her eyes close, enjoying the pure ecstasy of it all.
She opened her eyes as she approached that precipice once more, watching him. He was gorgeous, all dark hair and flashing dark eyes, his muscular body shining with sweat.
She looked down at him, feeling her innermost muscles begin to flutter. He stared back at her, thrusting up inside her intently.
“I’m going to… I’m going…” she said, barely holding back.
“Come for me,” he growled, his words nothing short of a demand.
She let go, her orgasm rippling outward. She clenched his cock harder than she thought possible and closed her eyes, crying out.
The pleasure went on and on, the peak higher than she could have ever known.
She heard his matching groan as they reached their releases simultaneously, coming as one. He pumped a few times before releasing his seed, his body saying more than ten thousand words could’ve.
He kissed her hard, rocking gently. She struggled to catch her breath, enjoying this postcoital closeness.
He eventually pulled her off, ever so gently, and lay her down beside him. He kissed her brow, which made her grin.
They lay together in silence, their breathing harsh. She curled against him, her spirits flying free. She had done it, been with another man. Not just out of spite for Jared, but…
Because she genuinely liked Colt. She thought he was funny, and wise. Not to mention the fact that he was hot enough to melt steel beams.
He’d also been so understanding about her needs, without asking a single question. He didn’t demand to know anything, even when she’d freaked out on him for apparently no reason.
Colt had set her soul free, and he didn’t even know it. It was time to tell him.
“Colt?” she said after several long moments had passed, pulling back so she could look at him.
“Hmm?” He cracked open an eye, looking at her. “Are you still awake?”
“Can I tell you something?” she asked, hating how weak her voice sounded.
He turned on his side, facing her, his brow furrowing at her tone. “Anything.”
Her heart beat wildly in her chest. Maybe the timing was bad, but she feared that if she didn’t tell him now, she might never again work up the nerve.
“I was raped,” she said quietly, her eyes looking past him. “That’s why… why I’m weird about sex.”
It came out in a rush, like the floodgates being opened. She felt his whole body tense up, like he was preparing for a fight. Colt’s face shifted several times, from surprise to concern to rage and back again.
“Thank you for telling me,” he said at last. His voice strained a little, like he was struggling to keep himself under control, “Is the… the assailant… anyone I know?”
She frowned. Naming names wasn’t a part of her plan, but of course he’d want to know. From the way he asked the question, she suspected he already knew the answer.
“It was Jared Chalke,” she said slowly.
“Motherfucker,” he shouted, startling her as he bolted up in the bed. “I’ll fucking kill him!”
He moved to get out of the bed, ready to beat Jared to a pulp. Only she couldn’t let him do that, because Jared had the sheriff and his father’s money on his side. Jared was vindictive, and he’d be glad to go after a guy like Colt.
“You can’t retaliate,” she warned him. “He has the sheriff on his side. You have to promise me.”
He looked at her incredulously. “I can take care of myself.”
“I’m confiding in you!” she pleaded, brows drawing down. “I’m trusting you not to publicly shame me, Colt.”
His expression was immediately contrite.
“I’m sorry,” he said, settling back down and hugging her close. “I just… I can’t believe somebody would…”
She felt his body tensing again. “Shhh. It’s in the past. I just wanted to tell you because… you know. I like you.”
He kissed her then, hard and demanding. When he finally broke the kiss, they were both breathless. He nestled her into his side, head resting on his chest.
“I think I like you, too,” he said. She could feel the words rumbling from his chest.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
She let her eyes drift shut, feeling safe in his arms.
24
Colt sat at The Speckled Hen the next night, drinking and thinking. Rose had been called back to town early this morning on some vet errand.
He’d kissed her and let her go, his mind preoccupied. And then, as he was now, he thought of only one thing.
Jared fucking Chalke.
He’d kill the motherfucker where he stood, given the chance. He knew he was spoiling for a fight, yet he’d come in here anyway.
He sipped his beer, sitting at the table farthest from the door. The door chimed, announcing that new patrons had entered the bar.
Colt turned his head. He scowled when he saw Brett Harrison and his little cadre walk in, strolling straight to the bar.
He knew that Brett would be too big of a temptation to fight, knew that there was no one here this time to pull him off.
But he didn’t get up and head for the door, even though he knew he should. He sat back, finishing his beer, and waited for Brett to notice him.
It didn’t take long. The rednecks ordered and took a shot, after which Brett looked around and spotted Colt.
Brett gave a little smirk, slapping one of his friends on the shoulder. His friend turned as Brett sauntered across the bar, stopping dead at Colt’s table.
Colt looked around as Brett’s friends came up behind him, forming a half moon around him.
“You know, I heard the most interestin’ thing,” Brett drawled. “I was askin’ my new friend Jared ‘bout that girl that I’ve seen ya with, the vet?”
Colt’s expression went dark. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. Seems like your little filly has been ridden all over town,” Brett said, looking immensely satisfied.
Colt stood, his chair scraping back.
“You’re friends with Jared now, are you?” he asked, his voice as low and menacing as a rumble of thunder.
“Yeah. And his friend the sheriff. Have you met him? He’s right outside,” Brett said, turning as if to introduce them.
Colt had been rearing for a fight, but he hadn’t expected it to be so personal. He threw a right hook with all his might, catching Brett unprepared.
Brett stumbled back, but he wasn’t taken fully off guard. Nor were his friends, who jumped in immediate
ly.
Colt gave as good as he got, throwing and dodging punches. He targeted Brett for having the nerve to open his mouth about Rose, but was happy enough to hit any of his redneck friends who got in his way.
Toward the end, two of his opponents grabbed his arms and held them, letting a severely beaten Brett take a few swings.
Then they let him go, seemingly backing off. Colt fell and spat blood on the floor. In the red haze of fighting, it seemed normal.
The door chimed again while he was down, and when he looked up he saw a Native American man in a sheriff’s uniform looking down on him.
“Mr. Roman,” the sheriff said, smirking. “I believe you’re under arrest for assault.”
Colt’s jaw clenched as the man yanked him upright. He’d never met this sheriff before, but he already didn’t like him. The sheriff pulled out his cuffs and started to put them on Colt.
“What about those fucking assholes?” Colt asked, jerking his chin toward Brett and his friends.
“Didn’t see them doing anything wrong,” the sheriff said mildly.
“Bullshit!” Colt spat.
The sheriff smirked and shrugged.
“Either way, you’re coming with me.”
“I want my fucking lawyer,” Colt said as the sheriff led him to the door.
“We’ll see about that.”
Colt glowered at Brett, who just grinned as Colt was hauled away.
They planned it, Colt realized his mistake as the sheriff took him outside to the waiting patrol car. Jared, Brett, and the sheriff are all in on it together.
He allowed himself to be put in the cop car, wondering all the while.
If he was here, where was Jared?
Better question… where the hell was Rose?
25
Rose rolled over in her bed, fretful. Shelby had called just an hour ago to tell her that Colt had been arrested for fighting. Shelby had some story about how the charges were trumped up, how the guys Colt chose to fight were agents of none other than Jared Chalke.
That part Rose totally believed. The part she was having trouble with was that Colt had such violent tendencies. It wasn’t like they had to pry the fight out of him.
Fighting was his choice.
And damn if she wasn’t mad at him for betraying her confidence like that.
That anger, mixed with worry over the sheriff’s treatment of Colt while he was in jail, made for a sleepless night. It made her own little bed seem awfully lonely, here in the dark.
She rolled over and threw back the covers. Padding to the kitchen, she decided on some tea. She went to the cupboard, rummaging around.
Elvira whined in her crate. Rose didn’t like leaving the dogs crated while she was up, but she was just having a cup of tea and then heading back to bed.
She heard a muffled sound. She turned and found the source: her cell phone was on the table, and it was lit up and vibrating.
Probably Colt, calling to say he was out of jail. She moved toward the phone, but it went dark before she reached it.
She hesitated, then left the phone where it was. If Colt wanted to apologize and explain himself, that could wait until the morning.
She made to turn back to the cupboard, but she heard a creak, high and out of place. She’d heard the house she rented make a lot of noises, creaking at night, but never this one.
She paused, listening. The noise didn’t come again though. She shook her head at her unwarranted paranoia and went to the cupboard.
She started about making her tea, filling the shiny silver kettle with water in the sink. She got goosebumps suddenly as she moved to the stove.
A glimpse of something dark moving behind her in the mirror-like surface of the kettle was all the warning Rose got. The dogs went nuts at the same time. She turned to scream, but an ice-cold hand clamped over her mouth.
“I said we’d see each other soon, didn’t I?” came Jared’s voice.
He held her arms with one hand, the other silencing her protests. He pressed his body against her back. She could feel his erection, which made her feel ill.
She screamed, which only made him more excited.
“I like it when you scream, Rosie,” he said. “You didn’t do enough of that last time.”
He sounded drunk. Drunk and angry.
She could hear the dogs scrabbling to get free. She had to fight like that now, like a dog struggling to be free.
She bit Jared’s hand, which made him drop his offensive hand from her mouth.
“What the fuck?” he hissed.
Before he could recover, she elbowed him in the ribs and stomped on his foot. He let go of her, and she ran to the front door.
“Rose—” he said in a warning tone, but she grabbed an umbrella and went after him.
She swung the umbrella with all her might, hitting him in the face, then on the arms that he brought up to defend himself.
There was a knock on the door.
“Rose?” came a muffled voice.
She paused for a second, recognizing Colt’s voice. Jared instantly fled to her bedroom as she flung open the front door.
“Rose, I— what’s wrong?” Colt asked as Rose threw herself into his arms, sobbing.
“Jared,” she said, trembling. “Jared’s in here!”
“What?” Colt said, stiffening in alarm. “Where?”
“I don’t know!” she said, then broke down into hysterical weeping.
“Okay. I want you to get in my truck, and lock the doors,” he said, pulling her back toward his vehicle. “I’ll check the house.”
She scrambled into the truck, and locked the doors. He gave her a last look, then headed inside.
Rose folded in on herself while she waited, holding her breath. Was Jared still inside? Worse, would he be waiting to hurt Colt?
She almost opened the door to warn him, then realized he was a freaking Navy SEAL. He was trained for hand to-hand-combat.
A minute later, he came out alone.
Her breath whooshed out of her lungs. She was relieved, but she didn’t want him to think she was crazy. She opened the door to the truck.
“I swear, he was in there—” she started, but his head shaking cut her off.
“There’s a window open, and signs that someone decided to leave that way in a hurry,” he said, reaching out for her.
Rose went into Colt’s arms, beyond glad that he believed her. Glad that he was in her life, actually. He was many things, but strong and protective were among the foremost.
She dried her tears as much as she could.
“What should I do?” she asked.
“If he was in your house, Rose, we have to call the police,” he said, grimacing. “I know that the sheriff isn’t on our side, but there has to be a legal record.”
She looked down at her sleep shirt. “Can you get me a pair of pajama pants?”
He smiled at her, though she’d seen more joyful expressions. “Okay. I’m going to go get your pants. My phone is in the truck, so would you mind summoning the police?”
She nodded, stepping back to the truck. She called 911, and was told that someone would be on the way. Colt came back out with pants for her, and she put them on in the truck.
“Is it okay if we let the dogs out?” he asked. “They’re really anxious to see you.”
She felt her heart give a squeeze. Somehow she’d ended up with a man that cared about her dogs as much as she did.
“Yeah, of course,” she said.
He went to let the dogs out, releasing them one by one. They all came to sit by the truck, and she jumped down to reassure them that she was fine. The wet tongues and wagging tails made her feel a little bit better in return.
She shivered. Not only was it getting close to Halloween, so the air was much colder, but the shivering was an aftereffect of her body releasing all that adrenaline.
Colt came back outside, leaving the front door open. He leaned against the truck while she petted the dogs. He looked a
round, vigilant; his gaze roving the yard.
She could tell that he wanted to search the backyard, but didn’t want to leave her. She didn’t want him to go either, so that was fine by her.
The patrol car pulled up, its headlights bright. Rose stood up, uncertain.
“Let me handle this, okay?” Colt said. He held out his hand to her, and she took it, grateful.
She swallowed and nodded. “Okay. Dogs, sit.”
Sheriff Thorn got out of his car, looking around. She’d forgot how much she loathed the sheriff, but she was reminded just now. It was the way he carried himself, that cocksure strut of his.
And the fact that he was Native American… somehow he turned that against her, despite the fact they had similar ancestry.
When they’d interacted before, he’d asked what her ancestry was, then insinuated that maybe she was racist against people who were pure white, as he’d called it.
Her jaw had dropped. The only thing she could say in defense was that she was half-white. It made her outraged that he’d insinuate that she would fabricate an assault as some sort of race retaliation, and that was before all the other horrible things he’d said.
Now he cocked his head, taking in the fact that she and Colt held hands. She saw the tiniest smirk on his face.
“What seems to be the problem here?” Sheriff Thorn drawled, adjusting his belt. He wasn’t a small man, so his belt had quite a bit of work to do.
“She was alone in the house. Jared Chalke broke in,” Colt said, keeping it simple. “I came over, and it scared him off. He climbed out the back window.”
The sheriff’s smirk turned into a grin.
“Jared Chalke, huh?” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t know why you’ve singled him out as a victim of your harassment, Ms. Elliott.”
“I—” she started, then Colt squeezed her hand again. She fell silent.
“We want to file a police report,” he said.
“I see. You want me to go look around inside, is that it?”
“Yes,” Colt said. She could feel the cords in his body growing tense. He was angry, but he didn’t let it show.
“Let me ask you something,” the sheriff said. “If I go look in your recycling bin, am I going to find liquor bottles?”