Unleashed: Declan & Kara (Unleashed #1-4; Beg for It #1) (6 page)

My eyes filled up with
tears, my voice cracking a little as I thanked her. I’d just met a
real, live fairy godmother. She worked at a second hand store and
wore an ostrich feather on a headband. The world was a strange and
wonderful place.

“You go now, head on
up to the salon on 8th. They’re expecting you. That man of yours is
going to have a heart attack tonight.” She hustled me out of the
store. “Have the EMTs waiting!” I had to laugh as I walked away,
waving a grateful good-bye.

A few hours later I
stood in front of the mirror in the salon’s changing room, not at
all sure who was looking back at me in the reflection. I’d decided
to change into everything—lingerie, dress, heels—at the salon. It
had more appeal than the back of my truck.

In the mirror, gone was
the rancher, the woman who tied her hair back in a functional
ponytail and wore old boots and jeans. Gone was the waitress, a gravy
stain across her apron. In her place stood a movie star.

I’d been buffed,
polished and even perfumed by the city’s best. They’d done my
hair, giving it crazy volume and big, luscious curls plus a few
subtle highlights along the sides that made me look positively
sun-kissed. They’d applied makeup like the pros, giving me a subtle
sheen with smoky eyes and glistening lips.

I’d even gotten
waxed. I hadn’t planned on it, but it had happened: my first
Brazilian. I guessed if you were going to wear barely-there lingerie
it went with the territory. And I had to admit, there was a part of
me that had liked the naughty thrill of it. Of course Declan would
never find out. The night wasn’t going to go there, but I still
felt an excited charge. He’d never know, but it still would be fun,
sitting across the table from him with my little secret.

I paid, and that about
did it for my credit card. I was surprised it didn’t spontaneously
burst into flames after the transaction went through, including a
generous tip. My card’s swan song.

Then I took myself,
little black dress plus a whole bunch of butterflies in my stomach,
on up into my old pickup truck, Bessie. I wiped down the front seat
first with a towel, laughing as I did it. We sure made a contrast. I
might be dressed up to enter into Declan’s world for the night, but
I’d drive home in Bessie afterwards, heels kicked off in the back
as I stretched out my toes.

She started up with a
few sputters, shudders and a lurch. I drove toward the restaurant as
if into battle, my stilettos my weapon. Actually, they’d do pretty
well in a pinch.

What I really needed
was a full coat of armor. Seeing Declan, my body had responded like
he was water and I’d been dying of thirst. In his office at 11
o’clock in the morning, he’d turned me into a hot, quivering
mess. How would I handle sitting across from him at night in a
romantic setting, soft music, maybe a candle burning between us?

I could hear Declan’s
low voice, “I name the terms.” Why did that make me tingle with
anticipation? Excitement. I shouldn’t think that way. But what
would his terms be?

There were things I
wanted to do with him, to him, for him. Things I never let myself
think about during the light of day. Those fantasies I kept for late
at night when I couldn’t sleep, when I lay awake in my bed
frustrated. I’d give in, stroking myself until I dripped with need,
until I shuddered and cried out his name.

Would those kinds of
things be his terms? I hoped not. God help me, I didn’t know that I
could resist.

Declan

Then

The first time I saw
Kara I knew I had to have her. I was talking with Harlan, her daddy,
about working at his ranch over the next few months. He’d grilled
me some, but seemed to size me up quick and decided to take a chance.
I’d work hard for him and he knew it.

“That’s it, down
there.” He was talking about where I’d be living over the summer,
pointing to a cabin. At 21 years old I’d have my own place for the
first time in my life. No more crashing on couches or sharing a room
with other ranch hands, four of us up on bunks. It looked small,
simple and just right.

Then she pulled up, her
truck barreling into the yard like she was being chased by the cops.
The dirt plumed up so I couldn’t see her full on when she first got
out of the cab.

I swear, the cloud of
smoke parted and she stepped out like something in a movie. Like it
was slow motion, she shook out her hair in a blonde waterfall.

She had the hottest
body I’d ever seen. I’m not joking. I had to keep my tongue from
rolling out of my mouth like a cartoon character. She had perfect
curves, the kind of hourglass figure you fantasized about. Full, ripe
breasts, rounded hips and a tiny waist you needed to get your hands
around.

Like I needed anything
else to complete the fantasy, she was wearing a tight little
cheerleading outfit. Right out of a skin flick, her short, pleated
skirt gave me a mile-long view of her long, shapely legs. It ended
right before the action really began, not more than an inch or two
below the tops of her thighs. Her shirt stretched taut across the
full, tempting curve of her breasts. Big, round and perky, pressing
against the fabric, I could tell she was tamping them down in a jog
bra. I wanted to set them loose, see them in something that really
showed them off. Or, better yet, naked and all mine for the taking.

Struck as I was by the
rest of her, I still noticed that she had the prettiest face. Sweet,
pink pouty lips, bright blue eyes and that mane of thick, golden hair
like in a fairy tale. She smiled and I swear the sun broke free of
the clouds in the sky above like in a Disney movie.

My eyes narrowed and a
dark smile played at the corner of my lips. She might look like a
Disney princess, but I sure wasn’t the prince coming to kiss her. I
was a bastard. I wanted to see those rosy, juicy lips wrapped tight
around my shaft, sucking wet and hard. I wanted to see her eyes glaze
with lust as I stroked her pussy, making her come for me. I wanted to
bend her over the hood of my truck, spread those legs and spank that
high, tight ass. Then plunge my cock into her, deep, to claim her and
make her mine.

“Kara, when are you
gonna slow down?” Harlan chastised her.

“I was going the
speed limit, Daddy,” she pouted.

Aw, fuck. The boss
man’s daughter. I should have known. Pretty china up on a shelf,
look but don’t touch. Just my luck.

“Come on over here
and meet Declan.”

She started walking
toward us and I should have looked away, but I had to watch her move.
I leaned against the house, boot up, playing it cool. Like I didn’t
have a huge hard-on for her. The hotter you got, the cooler you had
to act. I’d learned that fast in life. The instant you showed your
weakness you were fucked.

She took one long
stride after another, sex on legs, a lingerie model on a photo shoot.
Well goddamn, the boss had a daughter hot as fuck. 100% off limits.
Harlan wouldn’t want me messing with her, that much I knew straight
away. He’d likely cut my balls off and I liked my balls. If I’d
known a stick of dynamite like her was included in the job offer, I
might have turned it down. I didn’t need that kind of trouble. I
needed the work. I didn’t need some cheerleader porn star prancing
around me, screwing things up.

I could see her me
checking out. She got close enough that she saw my tattoo. Part of me
wanted to flex, give her a ticket to the gun show and see her eyes
widen in appreciation. I knew girls liked what they saw, all muscle
and man. I’d had more than a few women come up to me, using
interest in my tattoos as an excuse to touch, flirt, show me what
they wanted. I was only too happy to oblige.

Kara’s lips parted as
she gazed at me. I knew I’d never had anyone like her. There was
something so fresh and pure about her. The girls I knew? They were
out for what they could get, and seemed to know from a real early age
that it might not be much. Life could be brutal and once you’d seen
some serious shit go down, the kind that changed you for good, you
sized up every new person you met like a potential enemy.

Kara wasn’t from that
world. She had a sweetness to her, you could see it right away.
Innocent, probably generous and trusting, too. She needed to stay the
hell away from me.

I brought my arms up
and crossed them against my chest, hand up over my tattoo: not for
you, kiddo. This chick? I knew she wouldn’t want to play, not the
way I liked to, rough and dirty. And there was no way in hell I’d
go there, not with her father standing over us. I needed this job.

I glared at her. She
got the message. She looked away, a flicker of hurt passing over her
lovely features. Then she just looked pissed off.

“This here’s my
little girl, Kara.” Harlan gave her a pat on the head like she was
a toddler.

“Pleased to meet
you,” she said to me, real tight and dismissive.

I nodded in response.
I’d show her cool. Kara turned her attention to Harlan, working
him, clearly used to getting everything and anything she wanted. A
spoiled brat. And she had a boyfriend, her dad mentioned him. Some
beefy farm boy, no doubt, taking her out to a goddamn bonfire or some
shit that night. Dumb country bucks thinking they owned the world.

Someday, someday soon,
I’d get the fuck out of there. I’d make something of myself and
put all of the shit I’d been through behind me. It didn’t matter
what was on paper, the stats—absent father, junkie mother, foster
kid, criminal. Those were all just labels. I knew I was more than
that. I had drive. I worked hard. And I had ideas, good ones. All I
needed was the right opportunity. It might be at Harlan’s ranch. I
just had to stay out of trouble, play my cards right and it would
happen. I knew it would.

Whatever it was that
Kara wanted, she got. “Course you can, princess,” Harlan said.

That nickname was
perfect. I smirked. The princess caught me and scowled.

“Have a good time,
sugar.” Harlan sent her off. She turned tail and flounced away in
that tiny scrap of a skirt on up to her house. I didn’t watch. I
locked my attention onto Harlan and kept my mind on business.

Harlan did too. He got
right into saying exactly what I knew he’d say next.

“That girl walking
right there? That’s my whole world.” Harlan chewed on a long
piece of grass, looking out into the middle distance. “I’d kill
anyone who hurt her. Not think twice about it.”

I nodded. Message
received, loud and clear.

“What you do off this
ranch? That’s your business. ” He looked at me, now, dead
serious. “What you do on this property? That’s my business.
You’re here to work and work hard. You stick to that and we’re
going to get along just fine. How’s that sound to you?”

“Sounds good to me,”
I answered honestly, straight and direct. I meant it.

He nodded. “You got
determination, boy. I can see that in your eyes. You want to make
something of yourself. I like that.”

“OK.” I shifted my
weight. A guy warning me off of his daughter? That I got, I knew how
to deal with that. But fatherly praise? That made me uncomfortable.
My father had up and left before I was even born. That kind of ‘I
believe in you’ shit didn’t sit right with me.

“Come on, let me show
you around your new home.” I followed Harlan, wondering about that
word. Home. I couldn’t say I’d ever had one. It wasn’t
melodramatic. It was a fact. I’d never lived in one place more than
a year. My mother never stayed put, always off in the middle of the
night when she couldn’t make rent, crashing somewhere until we
outstayed our welcome. Then after the fire, after she’d gotten
locked up, then came the foster homes. None of those had exactly
stuck. I had a few permanent scars I’d carry around with me, but
nothing permanent about the houses and people who’d passed in and
out of my life.

I wouldn’t stay at
Harlan’s ranch long, either, just five months. Head down, eyes on
the prize, I’d work my ass off. And I’d keep my mind and hands
off that ass on my boss’s daughter.

§

That night, I checked
out the local bar. I was 21 now but I’d had a fake ID for a couple
of years and passed easy for 25. I was big and tall and tough. I
hadn’t had a problem getting into a bar for a couple of years now.

I drank a few beers,
keeping to myself and checking things out. It seemed pretty much like
every other honky-tonk bar I’d been in across the state, and I’d
been in more than a few. You had some married, drunk truckers trying
to score with drunk local girls. You had some young bucks, showing
off shooting pool and trying to score with drunk local girls. And you
had me, figuring out which drunk local girl I was going to screw that
night.

I surveyed my options.
They teetered around in heels too high for them to handle and skirts
too short to fully cover their goods. Bra straps slipping down,
drinks sloshing across their tops, things got messy as the night wore
on.

A scene like this, I
was in my element. Easy pickings. No questions asked, a minimum of
small talk, and some sweaty, balls-to-the-wall sex.

I always made sure they
came first, such a gentleman. Really, it was that I got off on that,
too. I liked seeing a girl’s face when she came. That moment when
she forgot everything, whether she’d been trying to act sexy or
whether she’d been nervous about looking good with her top off. I
liked it when she got lost in desire, grunting and moaning and
desperately needing more, shoving her pussy against me and bucking
her clit for release. I loved watching a girl arch back and scream.
Depending on where we were, sometimes I’d cover her mouth firm with
my hand, keeping her quiet. Lots of times that made it even hotter,
her eyes wide when she started to come, then closing in complete
surrender.