Unleashed: Declan & Kara (Unleashed #1-4; Beg for It #1) (30 page)

Funny thing was, when
you looked away in a candy shop, there was nowhere to turn without
spotting something else delicious. A pair of Jimmy Choos. Oh, the
siren song of metallic gold platform sandals, all straps and shine
and heels. I could see myself modeling those for Declan. Maybe not
wearing anything else.

“You have to.” The
salesperson grabbed the sandals for me and the entire transaction was
over in a New York minute. Signed, sealed and arranged to be
delivered to the penthouse.

Out on the sidewalk, a
bit shocked at what I’d just done, I started walking my way back to
The Stanyon. I’d just spent more than I guessed I ever had on
myself. But not long after, a welcoming storefront stopped me in my
tracks. Home and Hearth. I loved absolutely everything in the window.
An antique bench draped with a star-pattern quilt. A rustic wooden
cart, here with several potted plants but I could picture it
positively overflowing with wildflowers.

A devious smile crept
across my face. I knew someone whose home wasn’t exactly homey.
Stark. Immaculate. A decorator had clearly been at work, calculating
everything to cultivate the image of the masculine, powerful bachelor
businessman.

In Declan’s
penthouse, I hadn’t seen a single photo of family or friends. No
kids’ artwork up on the fridge, which I had to say I found almost
criminal. Even if you didn’t have your own, you had to have a
neighbor, niece, cousin or friend with a little one. And, clearly,
you had to proudly display their art. No home was complete without
it. Also, Christmas Cards you kept up until July and cheesy calendars
of puppies.

Declan’s penthouse
could use a few touches here and there. He had told me to go
shopping, after all. I was pretty sure his credit card still had some
room on it.

My smile grew wider as
I pulled open the door and went inside. He had warned me that he
might discipline me tonight. I felt ready to cause some trouble.

Declan

Then

It had to rain. Other
than that night in the barn, the sun had been scorching down on our
patch of land for weeks now, relentless and fierce. The earth looked
as cracked and parched as a desert. The cattle lowed in their pens,
restless and moody. I sure as hell got no rest, though that had to do
with my own demons more than the weather. Demon in chief: Kara
Brooks.

She was avoiding me,
and doing a good job of it. I never caught more than a glimpse of
her. A hint of a blue dress through the kitchen window, her singing
drifting up into the hot, still air. Sometimes she’d shoot out from
the house to her pickup as fast as a firecracker, scared I’d try to
grab her or something. She was right about that. Grabbing her was
exactly the kind of thing I had in mind.

I was supposed to leave
next month, only a few more weeks at this ranch. Sometimes I thought
of it as motivation. I could hold out. Other times it spurred me on
like a drumbeat. Not much time left. Better act fast.

Since I’d had the
flu, it had gotten worse. It was like the fever had gone straight to
my brain. I’d been hot for women before, sure, from a young, randy
age, but this was something different. This came close to stark,
raving mad. I could feel her hands on my skin, hear my name moaned on
her lips, smell her musky sweet scent. At night I’d dream so vivid
I’d wake and swear it was real, her caressing my chest, trailing
her fingers along my muscles.

I walked around with a
raging hard-on and balls so blue I could barely see straight. The
girls I typically partied with didn’t offer any relief. I had no
interest in them anymore. My hand didn’t help, though I brought it
to my cock often enough, calling out Kara’s name as I jerked myself
off in the shower. It didn’t matter. Nothing gave me relief. There
was one remedy and one remedy alone.

I wasn’t myself, that
much was clear. There had been one time over the past few weeks I’d
managed to see her alone, just her and me in the barn. And what had I
done? Stood stock still like a dummy. I literally hadn’t been able
to move. She’d looked so beautiful, delicate and perfect. I’d
felt like the Hulk, big and dumb and only able to smash. That had
never happened to me before. Bill had walked in soon enough, anyway.

But I knew it was just
a matter of time. Like you knew one day it had to rain, I knew one
day I would have her. It was all a question of when.

The rain came sudden
one afternoon in mid-August. The morning started like all the rest,
hot as hell and not a cloud in sight. I had to hand it to Bill,
though. Old timers sometimes knew and he told me, first thing, it
would rain that day. I had my doubts, but around 4 o’clock things
got real dark real quick. The cattle started bucking and rearing up,
their big eyes rolling in their heads. They knew a change was coming.

Rain after a drought
was a good thing, of course. But too much rain too fast onto dirt
that had dried as hard as cement? That meant flash flooding.

We had to get all the
equipment and all the cattle up into the barn on high ground as fast
as possible. All hands on deck. Every man dropped whatever he was
doing and got to work, fast, focused, intense. I was down by the
creek. Low and trickling just then, I knew it could be flooding its
banks within hours. I’d seen it happen before. You didn’t grow up
in Montana without a deep respect for the destructive powers of
Mother Nature. No force could be as violent or vicious.

I lay down some
sandbags at the most vulnerable point, where dirt and rocks had
tumbled down into the creek creating kind of a funnel. That’s where
the water would break through first, so I shored it up. Then I turned
my attention to the cattle we had down in the low pasture, the ones
in the most danger. The first few drops started to fall, both a
blessed relief and a warning of what was to come. I could tell it
would be a driving, relentless storm when it broke full force.

Fast as a whip, Kara
rode in, wind thrashing her hair, rain starting to pound down hard.
With more expertise than I knew she had in her, she prodded and
coaxed, nudged and circled the cattle, moving them up to safer,
higher ground. Up on my horse I joined her and together we worked as
a team. I scared the shit out of them and got them moving along,
quick. Kara kept them calm enough to help them head in the right
direction.

We worked well
together, reading each other’s signals without words. I knew when
she needed me to circle on back. She knew when I needed her to slow
down with a young, scared one. Helping each other, we got the cattle
where they needed to go, safe and dry and locked into a covered pen
up on the ridge in about a third of the time it would have taken me
on my own.

Reins in her hand, Kara
sat tall on her horse, exhilarated and proud of the work we’d
accomplished. The rain fell fast and relentless now, plastering her
hair to her head, her clothes to her body.

“Come on!” I called
to her, spurring my horse around up toward the far ridge of their
property. She followed, driving hard behind me in the rain.

Up at an enormous, old
willow tree, I pulled up, jumped off, and led my horse under the
shelter of the giant branches. I tied my horse to the trunk and she
calmed quickly, sheltered underneath the leaves and branches of the
ancient willow.

Kara led her horse
underneath as well, following my lead, tying her horse to the trunk.

I didn’t wait to
think, didn’t hesitate to wonder whether it was the right time or
right thing to do. I went to her and wrapped my arms around her and
kissed her like I’d never kissed anyone before in my life. Hands
wrapped around her like I couldn’t even believe she was real, I
crushed her to me and kissed her breathless, knotting my fists in her
hair, heart pounding in my chest. I kissed her mouth, deep, kissed
her face, her neck, her mouth again. She felt soft and luscious,
moaning and sighing, her body melted into mine.

Kissing had never felt
so good. I tasted her lips again with my own, taking my time now to
explore her with my tongue. Hot, sweet, delicious, my Kara. She
quivered and shook in my arms, kissing me back with passion, both of
us barely able to breathe. I brought my hands to the sides of her
head, looking down into her eyes like I’d discovered something
precious I never imagined I’d be lucky enough to find. I kissed her
again, unable to stop, never wanting to stop now that I’d started.

Rubbing my hands up and
down her arms, shoulders to elbows, I realized she was shaking.
“You’re cold.”

“No,” she
protested, though her teeth started chattering.

“I’ve got to get
you back so you can change into some dry clothes. You need to get
warm.”

“No!” she cried
out, wild and fearful. “Don’t take me back! I don’t want you to
stop!”

I picked her up and
crushed her to me, bringing my heat to her. She threw her arms around
my neck, holding me like I’d saved her life, kissing me back with
abandon and need.

“Kara,” I breathed
into her, kissing her again. I was drunk on her kisses, each one
making me crave more. I’d wanted this for so long. It almost didn’t
feel real to have her in my arms, at long last, in the midst of a
violent downpour yet sheltered under a weeping willow tree.

She shuddered in my
arms, then buried her face in my neck, kissing me there, trailing her
mouth along my skin as if she were desperate for my taste. With a
groan, I leaned her against the tree, cupping her ass in my hands.
She wrapped her legs around my waist and I kissed her, deep,
demanding, relentless, all thought and reason gone from my body. All
I was aware of was Kara, her hands threaded in my hair, pulling my
mouth down to her own. She kept saying my name over and over with
soft moans and pants like she couldn’t believe we were finally
together.

We’d been fighting
this for so long. Now that it all came crashing down around us, the
thunder and lightning up above, our own storm down below, I didn’t
think I could ever stop. It felt so good to let go, to reach out and
touch and kiss and feel. I’d fantasized to a point of absurdity,
but she still felt better than anything I’d imagined. Even with all
her clothes on and nothing but kisses she still about blew my mind.

Finally, her shudders
stopped me. I had to lay off and do what was best for her, even if
she didn’t want me to. She needed to get warm even if I had to pry
her off of me. After I pried myself off of her, first.

I untied our horses,
then pulled her up onto my horse with me. I told myself it was to
keep her warm as we rode through the cold, driving rain. It was
because I couldn’t bear to let her go. I needed her soft curves,
the feel of her breathing, her smell next to me for as long as I
could manage it.

We approached the barn.
People would be inside, I knew that. Maybe her father. This was the
last chance I’d have with her alone.

“Tonight,” I
whispered in her ear as we got closer. “Meet me in the barn.
Midnight.”

I rode us up to the
entrance and sure enough Bill, Harlan and a few other guys were there
seeking shelter, comparing notes on what they’d been able to take
care of where, figuring out what else had to be done next in the
storm. I brought her down off my horse. Harlan was on her in half a
second, angry she’d gone out in the storm. She slipped away from my
arms so quickly. As fast as she’d fallen into them, she was gone.
Harlan fairly ran her into the big house. I watched her head up that
hill, up and away from me, safe and sound, where she belonged.

§

“You shouldn’t have
come.”

I heard her soft
footfalls before I saw her. I was there waiting for her at midnight
in the barn. I shouldn’t have done it. Earlier that night I’d
paced around in my cabin like a maniac, trying to make myself head
out to the Silver Dollar Saloon. I couldn’t do it. She was driving
me crazy. I needed to meet her, at least to tell her to steer clear
of me. I wasn’t what she wanted, not really, and I definitely
wasn’t what she needed.

“Declan?” She
stepped closer, all sweetness with those big eyes and her silken hair
tumbling down her shoulders.

“I’m not a good
guy.” Breathing hard, I willed myself to stay away from her. I
wanted to hold her so badly, but instead I balled up my fists and
kept them at my sides. I wanted to say more, but my voice stuck in my
throat. Blood pumped fierce like lightning through my veins.

“Yes, you are,” she
insisted in her innocent, clear voice.

Why did she believe
that about me? She didn’t know me, had no idea what I’d seen and
done. I was a deadbeat, no family, kicked out of foster homes. I’d
broken into a store and stolen electronics. Hell, I’d stolen a car.
That’s what got me sent away. I wanted to confess it all, tell her
everything, make her see I was all wrong. But deep inside, part of me
wanted her to help make things right.

Standing before me,
tentative, shaking, she brought her hand to my cheek. My eyes closed.
Her touch was light but the sensation was so strong, her soft skin
against my rough jaw, whispery smooth. She brought her thumb to my
lower lip, stroking me as if she’d been dying to do it, as if she’d
been aching for my lips the way I had hers.

I couldn’t help it. I
was on her in a heartbeat, my mouth to hers, crushing her against me.
Her lips, so plump and sweet, parted for me. Her hands came up to
touch my chest, my shoulders, grabbing and clinging as if she never
wanted to let go. I drank her in like a man dying of thirst. She was
all I could think about, all I could feel. Somehow I led her over to
the bales of hay stacked in the corner and pulled her down on my lap.
She settled, sighing against me, our lips never parting.

We didn’t do more
than kiss. Crazy, I know. I’d never been a gentleman, not even with
the first girl I’d kissed. She’d been another foster kid, 15
years old when I was 12. She’d taken off her top and given me a
lesson on how to make the most out of second base.