• Twenty-Six •

This man was insane, and I was getting wet because he was spewing psycho crap.

Capri

Sitting in the first row hadn’t been expected, and Tyron had kept that a secret until we arrived. Esther almost kissed him; she was so ecstatic. Jaiden held her back.

Tyron put his hands on my waist, stood behind me, and wrapped an arm around me. He even pressed a kiss to my temple more than once while we listened to the live performance. I tried not to be frustrated that my body didn’t ignite or even tingle a little. But I felt comfortable. Leaning into him, swaying to the music. It was nice.

And if it hadn’t been for the way I’d lit up from Thatcher earlier in the week, then I wouldn’t have been disappointed at all. In fact, I’d have thought this was heading somewhere.

During the ride back, his hand slid over my leg and stayed there while he drove. We dropped off Esther and Jaiden at her apartment, then headed to my house. I’d already decided I was inviting him in. I was twenty-seven, not sure if heaven and hell were even real things anymore, and tired of following all these moral rules that had been forced upon me all my life. I might never get married. I might never fall in love.

But I was a grown woman, and having sex for pleasure and fun was normal. I was ready for it. With Tyron, who was safe and comfortable. His erection in his jeans as he’d rubbed up behind me tonight told me he was interested. Hopefully, my virgin status didn’t turn him off. I wasn’t sure if that was just a Thatcher thing or all grown men thing.

He parked in my driveway, and I turned to look at him.

“Want to come inside?” I asked.

The corner of his lips curled. “Yeah, I would.”

That was easy. See, I was already crushing this new way of life. Why had I waited so long?

I opened my car door and got out. As I walked around the front of it toward Tyron, my eyes darted back to a small orange light in the yard. It was near the porch, but still in the darkness, just out of the glow from the outside lights. What was that?

“What’s wrong?” Tyron asked.

I narrowed my eyes as the light moved. Was there a dark figure there too? It shifted. The shadow. It was barely visible with the orange light.

Was that a cigarette?

Swallowing, I felt my pulse at the base of my neck as my heartbeat began to pick up. Trickles of fear and uncertainty stopped me from saying anything. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining this or if there was someone out there. Someone smoking.

No. He wouldn’t be here.

My eyes swung to the porch. No box of cookies. I should be relieved.

“Is there someone out there?” Tyron asked.

I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know how to respond. Taking a step toward the light, I tried to see if I could make out what I had seen better. If it was Thatcher, then why? Should we get in the car and leave? I didn’t want to think I had to be scared of him, but if he was in my yard in the dark, then …

Tyron’s hand wrapped around my arm, and his body came up behind me. “I’ll go check it out,” he said, moving me to the side and stepping in front of me.

I started to stop him when the figure moved into the light on the porch. His black cowboy hat hid most of his face, but I knew that body, that stance. No one looked quite that good in a pair of jeans. Only him. The cigarette in his mouth illuminated his lips just enough for me to see them.

“You need to leave,” Tyron said.

I winced. He didn’t know Thatcher. He had no idea who he was ordering to leave.

Thatcher took the cigarette from his mouth and took another step into the light. I moved in front of Tyron instinctively, and he once again grabbed my arm as if to stop me.

“You need to remove your hand from her.” Thatcher’s deep voice made me shiver.

Tyron’s hand flexed as if he had jerked. I understood it. You didn’t have to know Thatcher to be struck by the fear that came with his threat. There was a formidable sound to his voice. One that you knew you should run from.

“Let go,” I whispered, not wanting him to do anything to set Thatcher off.

“Do you know him?” Tyron asked.

I nodded. “I ride for his ranch.”

Tyron’s hand dropped away from me. I’d told him very little about who I raced for, just that I was a jockey. I didn’t give him details on the Shephards, not even their name. If he’d searched me online or done any research at all, he’d have found that I had raced for them recently.

“You can go.” Thatcher’s tone, although he spoke with a smooth drawl, remained menacing.

“I’m here until she tells me to leave,” Tyron replied, sounding angry.

I touched his arm to stop him. He needed to leave. I would deal with Thatcher.

“Don’t touch him, Capri.” Thatcher’s voice had taken a new deadly edge that had me snatching my hand away and turning back to Thatcher.

The cigarette was back between his teeth.

“What do you need?” I asked, wishing he’d leave me alone.

He gave a small lift of his chin. “Him to go.”

I sighed in frustration. I was going to have sex tonight, finally. Yet here was Thatcher, stopping me. How ironic.

“Our date isn’t over. If this is about work, then can you just call me tomorrow? I’m going to be there at seven anyway to exercise the horses.”

Even through the shadows covering them, I could feel his eyes locked on me. They felt like warm coils being wrapped around my body. Damn him for that. I didn’t want to feel that. Not from him.

“The date is over,” Thatcher replied, then curled his finger at me to come to him.

I wanted to tell him to go to hell and refuse, but I also knew Tyron could make him angry, and I didn’t want Tyron to be hurt.

Turning back to Tyron, I gave him a small, apologetic smile. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. He’s … you just need to leave. He wants to talk about business, and, well, you don’t know him. It’s best you leave.”

Tyron glared over my shoulder in Thatcher’s direction. “I’m not leaving you here with him. I don’t care who he is.”

Crap. He was gonna cause a problem.

“Please just go. I’m completely safe. I swear.”

Tyron shook his head, then tensed up, stepping around me. I started to grab his arm again when he was lifted off the ground. I covered my mouth before letting out a scream. Thatcher was holding him up by his neck. His feet weren’t even touching the ground as he walked him back toward the car.

“Thatcher!” I cried out, rushing after him and pulling on his arm, which did nothing. Was the man made of steel?! “Stop it!”

He shoved Tyron against the vehicle and dropped him, then towered over him as he took the cigarette from his mouth. I reached up for his arm, suddenly afraid the lit end was about to become a weapon. Thatcher tilted his head and stared down at Tyron. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I did see Tyron’s terror. I had to stop this. Why hadn’t he just left?

“Thatcher, please. Come with me,” I pleaded.

He turned his head slowly, and his dark eyes met mine. “I won’t kill him.”

Kill him? God! I would hope not. I should call King. Sebastian. Someone who could come help me.

He grabbed the front of Tyron’s shirt and shook him once, then let him go. “Get in your car. Drive away. Don’t call the police. That would be your last mistake.”

Tyron gulped. “I’m not going to let you hurt her.”

A deep, sadistic-sounding chuckle came from Thatcher’s chest. “I keep her safe. Protect her. Soothe her. I don’t hurt her.”

Oh, sweet Jesus, why did that turn me on? This man was insane, and I was getting wet because he was spewing psycho crap. What did he mean, he protected me? And what was this soothing? I had somehow missed it, and that seemed unfair.

Tyron’s eyes swung to me, and Thatcher’s hand grabbed his face, immediately snapping it back so that he could only look at him.

“Don’t look at her. Leave.”

“Tyron, please go,” I told him.

Thatcher’s lit cigarette was too close to Tyron’s eye since it was between two of the fingers on the hand that held Tyron’s face. I didn’t want him blinded because he’d taken me on a date. I’d imagined our night ending with me no longer an inexperienced woman, not with Thatcher manhandling my date.

Thatcher dropped his hold on Tyron, then draped his arm over my shoulders, moving me back from the other man.

“Go on,” Thatcher told him.

The scent of cedar, spice, and tobacco drifted over me, and I wanted to bury my nose in his chest and get more of it. Which was screwed up because of the entire scene that had just taken place.

Tyron glanced back at me as he opened his car door.

“Don’t look at her,” Thatcher warned him.

Once Tyron was safely gone, I was going to let him have it. This was insane and made no sense. He had no right to come here and treat my date like this. Tyron was going to call the police. I had no doubt about that. I didn’t want Thatcher in trouble even if he was acting like a crazy person who might be mental. He needed to leave too.

Tyron started his car and backed out.

Thatcher dropped the cigarette by his foot and then covered it to put it out. “I’ll pick it up and toss it in the trash before I go. I always do.”

I stared up at him. Now that I didn’t have to worry about him hurting Tyron, I moved away until there were several feet between our bodies.

“What the hell was that?” I demanded.

He smirked as if this was funny.

“Let’s go inside,” he replied.

I shook my head, planting my hands on my hips. “You are leaving. Tyron is probably already on the phone with the police. They will be here at any moment. They have nothing better to do in this town. You have got to go!”

He ran the pad of his thumb over his lower lip as his gaze traveled down my body. There was a flicker of appreciation. Maybe? I didn’t want to be affected by it, but I thought I looked nice tonight. Sexy even. The short blue jean miniskirt and bandana crop top with my red cowgirl boots was country-concert cliché, but I’d let Esther talk me into it. My hair pulled back in low pigtails at the nape of my neck was a little over the top, but I had gone with it.

He made a tsking sound, then shook his head. “You’re not wearing a bra, little doll.”

Dang it, my vagina needed to settle down. This man wasn’t getting near it, and she needed to get over it. I also needed to be slapped to even be reacting to him. He was a mean bastard.

“Did you not hear me? The cops? You need to go!”

His eyes moved back up to meet mine. “You worried about me?” he asked with an amused grin, then took a step in my direction. “Trying to protect me from the law?”

Yes, I guessed I was. Because once he left, when the cops showed up, I was gonna have to lie. Tell them Tyron had misunderstood. I was aware that he’d probably never talk to me again and this would be our last date, but I wasn’t letting Thatcher go to jail. Folks here didn’t trust him and thought he’d escaped murder. I was sure the cops were itching to get him for something. Tyron was fine. He hadn’t been hurt.

I let out a sigh. He was just standing there. Looking at me.

“I am trying to keep you outta jail.”

A deep, edgy laugh caused a small thrill to shoot through me, and my body tensed up.

“Jail? That’s cute.”

No, it was the freaking truth! What was his problem? Did he need some meds? Sebastian might have meant he was unstable, literally. As in he was medicated to be sane.

He took the three long strides I’d put between us, then reached for my hair and twirled it around his finger. “I’m not going to jail, little doll. The police won’t come. I promise. Now, let’s go inside.”

His smell was there again. Making me weak. My panties had left damp and gone right into the wet territory. He put his hand on my back and pressed. I walked. Straight to the porch, up the steps. I unlocked the front door while he stood there behind me. So close that his scent and warmth felt like they were seeping into my skin.

The tingling, exciting thrill that I’d wanted to experience when Tyron touched me was showing up with gusto now that it was Thatcher’s touch. My head was doing its best to convince the rest of my body to keep my guard up. Let the man talk, then send him on his way. Unfortunately, my head was the only part that wanted that. The others were clamoring for more. To the point that I felt feverish.

When I was inside, Thatcher’s hand fell away, and I heard him close and lock the door behind us. I turned, crossing my arms over my chest to face him. He wanted to talk, and I needed to get myself together.

“What is it you need?” I asked him.

He wasn’t letting me keep my distance. Once again, he closed in on me. It was either I stood my ground or I backed up until I hit the sofa behind me. I shoved his chest to make him back up instead.

“Let me breathe!” I ground out.

He didn’t move, but his fingers wrapped around my wrists.

“Don’t,” he warned, but his hold on me was gentle. Almost too gentle. As if I could break free if I tried.

I tugged at them, and he tightened just enough to stop me, but it was still not enough to even bother the bruised wrist.

His gaze dropped to my wrists as if he’d read my thoughts, and I watched as a strained expression crossed his face. The bluish imprint of his fingerprints had started to fade, and the tenderness was almost gone. I held my breath as he lifted the bruised wrist to his mouth. Unsure of what he was about to do, I sucked in a breath when the tip of his tongue trailed over the skin. His eyes lifted to mine as he did it all along the mark he’d left.

My heart slammed against my chest wildly, either from the intimate touch or the fact that his eyes were so black now that I could barely see the white. It was disturbing and maybe a touch thrilling. A quiver between my legs caused me to press my thighs together.

“I paid for this,” he said gruffly, still licking me.

“What?” I asked. My voice was barely above a whisper.

“Hurting you. I paid for it.”

If I could think straight, I might understand him, but I was confused.

“I don’t—” I shook my head and gasped as he licked at the tender spot on my wrist where my pulse could be found.

“I was locked up. Underground. I didn’t eat. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t get to see you,” he said, releasing my wrists.

His eyes dropped to my chest.

I would not feel inferior because of my almost-C-cup boobs, but I did wish he’d not look at them that closely. I also wished I wasn’t breathing so fast and hard.

“But you threw my cookies away.”

I said nothing, but continued to watch him lick me. Yes I’d thrown them away. I hadn’t wanted anything from him.

“Why was he coming in here tonight?” he asked.

“He was my date,” I said, stating the obvious.

Thatcher’s hand slid over my bare ribs, and I bit my bottom lip, afraid I was going to embarrass myself and moan. The rough calluses on his palm felt like hot little flicks of electricity as he inched his hand up and under my top until he was cupping my breast. I was gonna make a sound. Oh God, I did not need to have an orgasm over this. He’d run from me again, and I’d never recover.

“Were you gonna let him do this?” he asked.

I nodded.

His other hand reached around and untied the back of my top, then snatched it from my body and tossed it away, leaving me bare in front of him. Both his hands covered my breasts now, and he squeezed hard.

“What about this?” he asked. His voice sounded on edge. As if he were getting angry.

He had no right to get angry. I didn’t belong to him. He had no claim on me.

“If he wanted to,” I replied.

Thatcher’s eyes flared, and the black pools reminded me of the flames my father spoke of in the pits of hell. The slight pulse between my legs was followed by a shocking gush. I’d never been this wet. Not even when I masturbated.

My feet were off the floor, and Thatcher began to move with me. I wrapped my legs around his waist before remembering how wet I was. I didn’t want him to feel it—or God help me—make his shirt damp. I was careful not to lock them and kept my hips back just enough so that his clothing was safe.

We entered my room, and then he went over and tossed me down on the bed. I bounced once before he grabbed my skirt and unzipped it, then jerked it down my legs. His eyes went to my panties, and he licked his lips before taking them down my legs slowly, stopping at my boots to pull each of them off before stripping me bare.

I was naked on my bed with Thatcher Shephard above me. My panties were still in his hand, and I felt my entire body flush as he inspected them. When he brought them to his nose and inhaled, I was sure I would die. Right here. From humiliation.

“Fuuuck, little doll. These panties are soaked,” he said in a husky voice that sounded pleased. “You got a real needy pussy.”

Yes, when he was around, it went into overdrive.

He grabbed my knees and shoved them open. I’d never been more thankful to Esther in my life than right now. The pleased gleam in Thatcher’s gaze as he stared down at my very smoothly waxed area made all the pain so very worth it. I hadn’t done it, thinking this would be the man to see it, but somehow, fate had thrown me a fantasy.

I trembled as he reached between my thighs and then ran a finger over my swollen, wet lips. “That’s soft,” he murmured. “Real soft. Like silk.”

I bit my lip harder to keep from begging. I couldn’t stop the uncontrollable shivering I was doing, waiting for more.

“Is this cunt still untouched?” he asked.

Yes, dammit! If he left me like this, would I survive it?

Afraid to say anything, I stared at him. I wanted him. Even if I was a boring virgin. He’d started this. I didn’t ask for it.

“It is,” he confirmed without me saying anything.

He moved back, and I opened my mouth to plead with him not to go when I realized he wasn’t leaving. His head lowered, and I let out a sharp cry as his tongue slid along my folds and began to flick and suck on my clit.

“Ohmigod,” I moaned, wanting to grab his head and hold him there.

I’d never known this kind of pleasure. I’d read about it, even watched it, but not once had I realized how deliriously amazing this felt. I thought I’d found euphoria.

“Mmm, fuck, baby, that’s a sweet pussy. Damn, I didn’t know pussies could taste like this,” he said in a thick voice, then began to slide a finger inside of me gently.

I’d only had my fingers in there, and his were much bigger. Not to mention thick and rough. That was … that—

Oh my good God! I could hear my own sounds. Panting, moaning, I was lost.

“That’s it,” he growled, licking at me harder. “Keep giving me that.”

I didn’t think I was giving him anything. He was clearly the one giving right now. I began to shake as he lapped at me while pumping a finger in and out of my hole.

“Ah fuck, that tastes good. More,” he demanded. “I want more of it.”

I began to feel frantic as he kept telling me he wanted more. My body shook, and every pleasure point on my body seemed to rush to the area between my legs at the same moment before the world burst, tossing me into complete rapture.

“Fuck, that’s it, little doll.” Thatcher’s voice sounded far away. It was as if I were floating away. He growled as his tongue continued, as if it was trying to get all of me. “Jesus Christ! I’m gonna need more of that. Sweet little virgin pussies aren’t supposed to squirt. Goddamn.”

I didn’t know what he meant, but I was slowly coming down off my high, and his head was still between my legs. My clit was overly sensitive now, and I tried to close my legs, but he held them open while he continued licking and even pressing kisses.

“Thatcher,” I gasped.

He lifted his eyes, and I tensed from the wild gleam.

“I want more,” he said in a hoarse voice.

A small sound came from me as the vibration from his words caused my vagina to spasm.

“I can’t,” I said on a shudder.

He didn’t let up, and his finger began sinking deeper, rubbing at a spot that sent new sensations igniting inside me.

“I need it, little doll. I need more of it. Squirt in my mouth again.”

The build came fast this time. I hadn’t been expecting it. My hips lifted from the bed, and I grabbed the back of his head, holding him there as my body convulsed with an uncontrolled hysteria. I could hear Thatcher’s words, but not make them out. I just knew I needed to hold him there as I rode wave after wave of this sheer bliss I never wanted to come down from.