by Ellen March
“Em, I’ve got to go out with the group. Steve is acting a right dick. Can you do me a favour and keep an eye on her?”
Emily nodded.
* * *
Riley woke to feel the sun on her face. It was fading fast and low on the horizon. Rolling over, she groaned. A splitting pain catapulted through her head, and she threw the sheet back. Then she saw that Jago hadn’t even removed her boots, which were encrusted in mud and earth.
“Typical man,” she muttered to herself. Pushing herself up, she took a huge gulp of water and welcomed the sensation of freezing coldness coating her throat. She shuffled to the mirror, holding her head, and saw a pale-faced, black-haired apparition staring back. She decided a shower would wake her up.
Half an hour later she sat in front of the same mirror looking at least human, if not well. She was driven with a deep need to see Farley. She didn’t fully trust Jago. Ignoring her banging headache, she dressed quickly and tossed another couple of tablets down her throat, deciding she’d rather overdose than put up with the pain. Then she made her way to the stables.
Farley nickered when he saw her and pawed the door impatiently.
“Hello, baby,” she crooned, slipping inside and giving him his favourite mint. Reaching up, she hugged his massive neck, relieved he was safe. She’d been so scared that Jago would destroy him, and she had to see him, feel him herself.
The rumble of the minibus returning sounded in the yard. Leaning over the stable door, she watched the youths scramble from the interior. Steve spotted her and waved, walking casually towards her.
* * *
Jago pulled up and jumped out of his Jeep, eager to check on Riley; then he looked over at Farley’s stable. When he saw her standing alongside the stallion, he cursed long and hard.
Striding across the yard, he felt like throttling her. She should be in bed, not petting the animal that nearly killed her. As he gave rein to his short temper, his face went rigid with anger.
“What the hell are you doing in there?” he exploded, ignoring Steve, who stood close by.
“Checking on Farley. I just wanted to make sure he was okay.”
“To hell with the horse! He’s what put you on the floor in the first place. You could have been killed.” He couldn’t believe she was already back in the stable with the killer stallion.
“Well, he didn’t, and it’s not his fault,” she shouted back, her hand coming up to stroke the stallion’s huge crested neck.
“That’s beside the point. Why aren’t you still in bed?” His hand gripped the stable door, his knuckles white with tension.
“Because I woke up and I’m down here,” she replied, letting her sarcasm drip over him. “Stop making mountains out of molehills.”
“For the love of God,” he swore, placing a hand across his forehead in agitation. Couldn’t she just agree with him for once in her life?
“And yes, Steve,” she said, her attention switching to him, “I’d love to take you up on that offer and go out with you. What time?” She glared at Jago, daring him to say anything.
Steve grinned, picking up on her line. “An hour?” he asked hopefully. “We can eat out if that’s okay with you.”
“Eating out is just what I had in mind. In fact I can’t wait.” The double entendre was deliberate. She glimpsed Jago’s furious face before he spun round and stormed off.
“What’s his problem?”
“No idea! Probably indigestion,” Riley said curtly.
* * *
An hour later Jago stood at the large lounge window overlooking the yard as Riley walked down the path towards Steve. The stem of the wine glass he held snapped in his hand, and blood trickled down his fingers.
With a driving need to calm his temper, he stomped outside, turning his direction up towards the barn. It was surprisingly quiet. At least the kids were behaving, he thought, even if their leader was acting like an absolute idiot.
He didn’t know what was going on in his mind. He’d never cared for anyone—having sex as and when needed, tolerating very few people. But somehow Riley had gotten under his skin and he was scared. She wasn’t even his type, he tried to convince himself. He pictured one of his exes—Samantha, in particular—slinking around in Versace and sipping champagne.
He tried to envisage Riley doing the same, and the image stopped there. What he did know was that he wasn’t going anywhere tonight till he knew she was in, safe and sound.
And then they were going to sit down and have a long talk.
* * *
Riley was seated across from Steve in the small restaurant that he’d managed to find. It hadn’t been easy locating an intimate spot, due to the remoteness of this particular area of Wales.
“So, whereabouts are you from?” His soft brown eyes roved over her figure.
Riley could tell he was enjoying the attention she was generating in her low, tight–fitting top. “London, and here and there. Guess I’m a mixture.” She wished her temper hadn’t got the better of her. Because she really didn’t want a conversation or anything else with Steve. She wasn’t even enjoying her food, she thought, aimlessly pushing the chicken around on her plate. That in itself was a rarity.
“So, how long have you worked for Jago?” he probed.
“Not long.” Absently she sipped from her coke. Remembering the old farmers’ spiking, she smiled.
“What’s amusing?”
“Nothing, just a memory,” she said simply, aware he wouldn’t understand.
The time flew by. He was good company and made her laugh. But there was no wow factor, try as she might. Once the meal was over she was ready to leave and played up her head injury.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to go back,” she said. “Got an early start in the morning and my head’s hurting.” She put on a sickly smile. It probably looked like she had a gassy stomach, she thought belatedly, but she didn’t really care. She just wanted to leave.
“Come on, let’s get you back,” he agreed good-naturedly. His hand at the small of her back, he steered her towards the car.
They drove in companionable silence through the dark lanes. Until the car came to a premature halt in a secluded lay-by.
Riley looked at him expectantly, knowing what he was going to do. More importantly, she wanted to find out how she was going to feel about it. She wanted to test her theory that it was only Jago who could awaken those crazy feelings.
His hand looped around her, pulling her close. He kissed her gently at first, then thrust in his tongue and yanked her against his body. His hand crawled up, roughly grasping her breast. It was hard and demanding.
Riley gasped and dragged his hand away. At once she knew she didn’t want the intimate contact. His tongue in her mouth made her feel sick, and his lips were wet and flaccid. They did nothing except make her want to throw up.
He wasn’t Jago, but at least this experiment had answered her question.
“Sorry, Steve, don’t. I just want to go home please,” she said, shakily pushing him away.
“What do you mean?” His voice was harsh, and his sweet demeanour had disintegrated.
“I mean just what I said. What part of that don’t you understand?” Her hands against his chest, she continued to push him away.
“You’re a typical bitch—nothing but a tease. But I’m getting what’s due to me.”
“What are you talking about?” Suddenly she was scared. Too late she realized her vulnerability. She was alone with him on the moors in the suffocating darkness that surrounded them. Isolated, he could do what he wanted.
And no one would hear her screams.
“You’ve flashed your tits around, come out with me, and you expect me to go back without nothing?” He gave a snort of disgust. “You’re nothing but a dick teaser and I think you need a lesson.” His hand flashed out, and he grabbed her throat. As his fingers dug in around her windpipe, Riley gagged for breath.
“Stop it! I can’t breathe.” S
he gasped for air and clawed at his hand. Her nails scored and scratched for survival.
“Then you’ll do as I say.” He released her throat and squeezed down hard on her breast. His fingers left imprints in her flesh, and his tongue flicked into her ear, circling and nipping. He continued to roughly knead her breasts, biting down on her earlobe.
“Noooo!” she screamed. Grasping at the door handle, Riley wrenched it open. Tumbling out, she picked herself up and sprinted into the darkness, uncaring where she went as long as it was away from him. She fell to her knees and rolled into a ditch.
Steve stood outside the car, his eyes narrowed, searching for her. He was met with a black wall of silence. The only sound was the wind blowing through the night air. With a final backwards glance, he stepped back inside and started the engine. The bitch would have one hell of a walk home.
* * *
Jago glanced at his watch. Ten thirty and there was still no sign of them. He’d drunk more than he should. Pacing back and forth, he saw the lights of a car spilling in the darkness before pulling up. From where he stood, he saw only Steve’s big body leave the vehicle. No sign of Riley. His stomach roiled. He had a bad feeling and hoped to God he was wrong.
Sprinting down the path to the yard, he called out, again checking to see if she was there.
“Where’s Riley?” he shouted to Steve’s departing back.
“You tell me. She jumped out of the car for some unknown reason,” he lied. “I looked for her but it was so dark I couldn’t find her.”
Jago advanced on him. “What did you do to her?” Grabbing his collar, he shook him with a rabid fury like a terrier with a rat.
“To her? Are you real? She’s nothing but a tease,” he laughed. “And ….” He didn’t get any other word in before Jago’s fist slammed into his face.
“If you’ve hurt her in any way I swear to God I’ll kill you!” he swore.
He jumped into the jeep, in search of her. Peering into the choking darkness, he was only too aware of the fear she’d be experiencing.
* * *
Riley hid in the ditch until the car moved on. She’d rather spend a night in the dark on the moors than be mauled by Steve. Feeling her throat and chest ache, she was sure there’d be bruises come morning.
She followed the road, listening to the call of the odd owl, and shivered at the eerie shriek. The night wasn’t just black, it was inky, folding in on her to a suffocating extent. But, putting one foot in front of the other, she resolutely made her way towards home. At least she prayed that’s where she was heading.
Bright lights gleamed in the distance, slowly coming towards her. Fearful it was Steve, she tried to hide. Only this time there was nowhere to go. At least none that she could see. She bit down on her knuckles when the car stopped, her heart spinning frantically in her chest. The beam remained fully on her and she squinted blindly into the lights.
Jago could see that she was scared, wet and dirty. She stood warily in the middle of the road and he wondered what the hell Steve had done to her. He didn’t miss her flinch as he got out of the car. Terror was clearly written in her wide-eyed stare.
“Riley, it’s me,” he said quietly, his hands outstretched. He didn’t want to scare her.
“Jago?” Her voice quivered brokenly, and it was all too much. She fell, shaking, to her knees. “Oh, Jago!” she sobbed, and curled into a foetal position on the cold ground.
Jago knew that when he saw Steve again, he’d kill him.
“Come here, honey. You’re safe now.” He dropped before her and gently held her trembling body. He needed to know what Steve had done. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. He couldn’t speak and didn’t know what to say. He’d never experienced this absolute surge of protectiveness before; it was an alien feeling and he had no idea how to deal with it.
Clinging to him, Riley cried hysterically, needing to feel him, smell his essence. Only with Jago did she feel safe.
“What did he do to you?” He stroked her body, trying to ease her fear.
“He tried to, to ….” Riley started crying again, her head pressed against his chest. “Oh Jago, it was awful,” she sobbed, dragging in great gulps of air.
She’d read about rape and sex attacks, but never in her wildest dreams had she believed it could happen to her. Although not raped, she could relate to the tattered psyches of the victims.
The fear. The inadequacy. The blame.
As if it was her fault. Even knowing it wasn’t, she kept thinking she had done something to cause it.
“Ssh, honey, I’ve got you now. You’re safe.” He dropped a flurry of kisses on the top of her head. Still holding her tightly to him, he stroked her back tenderly, trying to comfort her. Uncertain what else to do, he continued to hold her protectively.
“I want to go home,” she wailed, blubbering again into his massive chest.
Jago froze. “What, London?” he asked, afraid of her answer. Tipping her face up to him, he gazed deep into her eyes.
“No, home to Tyrian,” she sobbed, still clinging to him. Unwilling to let him go, she kept her hands locked around his neck like tentacles.
“Come on,” he urged with relief, gathering her up in his arms. “Let me get you into the Jeep.”
Pulling up into the yard, he listened to the silence. The lights were all out, except for the security one on the house spilling out in front of them. A huge puddle of bright white light spread across the ground.
“I need to get you to bed,” said Jago, dismayed that Riley was such a bedraggled mess. He knew damn well where he’d be going. He had unfinished business.
As Jago carried her into the house, she kept her hands firmly round his neck and nestled against his chest, feeling safe and secure.
“Jago, can I ask you something?” Her voice was low and hesitant. Her fingers played nervously with a buttonhole on his open shirt, and she admired the sprinkling of curling dark hair. And knowing where it led …. Her face coloured just thinking of it.
“Go ahead,” he replied, carrying her easily up the stairs. This was becoming a habit.
“Are you sure you don’t have a sweet tooth?” she mumbled, unsure how to ask him to make love to her again. Despite what had happened tonight, all she could think about was his body. What he could do to her, how he made her feel alive. He could make her forget, wipe the stench of Steve from her, erase the imprint where his hands had gripped her.
He glanced down. “What are you talking about?” His eyes narrowed in confusion.
“Dessert,” she said simply. Her hand circled the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine.
Jago shook his head, knowing he was going to regret it. “No,” he said, firmly believing it was the shock that was talking.
“Well, it was worth asking, I guess.” She dropped her eyes and sucked in a shaky sigh, rubbing her chest lightly.
“You okay?” he asked, noticing the way she winced as he placed her gently on her feet in the bedroom.
She didn’t answer, merely nodded her head and moved her hand protectively across her chest.
He saw her action and held her hand. Pulling it back, he raised her top and stared in disbelief at the bruises, large and black, marring her breast.
“Jesus, what did he do to you?” He grasped her by her shoulders and shook her roughly. “Tell me,” he yelled, engulfed by a red hot rage.
“Stop it, you’re hurting me!”
Jago broke off at once when he realized what he was doing. “I’ll kill him for this,” he swore, turning to leave, his one mission to see Steve.
Riley held onto his arm. “Please, Jago, don’t do anything,” she begged. “He’s not worth it.”
He turned, and his eyes burned into her. “No, but you are,” he said softly.
“If I mean that much to you, then surely you’ll do what I ask?” She gazed up into his face, still holding onto his arm, and saw the tension there.
All he could think of was what she’d ask
ed earlier. Perhaps he had a sweet tooth after all. He needed her, if only for tonight.
“Are you up to me making love to you?” he asked quietly, his expression tender. “Because that’s all I can think about. I want to make you cry out loud as you come,” he muttered, knowing it was true. He wasn’t an inconsiderate lover. But with Riley, he wanted to make sure she came first.
Riley swallowed, wanting nothing more in all her short life. Holding her arms out, she said, “Please? I need you.”
Jago pulled her close, keeping her safe. The softness of her hair, the smell of her skin … he wanted to absorb her whole being. Taking her in his arms, he carried her to his room. His sole intent was to love her, kiss her battered body, and make her forget.
Chapter Twelve
“Riley, from the first moment I set eyes on you I knew you’d be trouble.” They were wound tightly together. If was as if couldn’t get her close enough.
“What do you mean?” She frowned up at him in mock horror and slapped his hand playfully.
“I can’t work you out. You’re an enigma,” he said, rolling onto his side. He kept his gaze averted from the bruises marring her body.
She frowned, wondering what on earth he was talking about. What the hell is an enigma? She decided not to ask. She might not like the answer.
“So?” She chose to distract him by trailing a hand down his chest. He’d carried her to his room, gently undressed her, and taken her to bed. But he hadn’t yet made love to her.
Bending his head, he seared her skin with lips that drizzled healing warmth—a thick, butter-soft coating. He gently kissed her bruises, keeping his touch feather light. When she flinched, he cursed, knowing he wouldn’t rest till he’d confronted Steve.
“You’ve had one hell of day, haven’t you honey?” he muttered, licking a path along her shoulder and across her throat.
Riley’s nails scraped lightly over his chest. The sprinkling of hair felt coarse beneath her fingers. Moving lower, she grasped the thick column of his cock and smoothed her hand across the top—teasing, listening to him groan, loving the power it gave her. Remembering how he’d reacted the last time, she dipped farther downwards, skimming her tongue along it. She most decidedly had a passion for oral sex.