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.

  • Twenty-Seven •

  I had just shown her the heaven that did exist, and she’d let me taste it.

  Thatcher

  Her chest rose and fell as she lay there, asleep. The second orgasm had caused her to pass out, and she’d not come back around. Even when I had jerked off on her thighs and pussy lips, she’d not stir. The view of her lying there, asleep with her legs open and my cum coating her skin, was my version of holy.

  I had lost it there for a moment. If she hadn’t blacked out, I’d probably still be between her legs, eating her like my last fucking meal. It was best for her that she had given in to her exhaustion.

  I flicked my tongue out and licked my lips again, loving that her taste was still there. If I could wash my fucking clothes in the scent of her pussy, I would. I shouldn’t have put my mouth on her, but it had happened. Now, I would need to do it often. Who knew unfucked pussies tasted so damn good? I’d licked hundreds, and not one had ever made me lose my mind.

  She’d brought him back here, thinking she was gonna take him inside. Let another man touch her. I’d said things that hurt her for her own benefit. Then, she’d gone and started dating some fucker who wasn’t a Bible-toting Christian. He’d have stuck his dick inside what wasn’t his. Or he’d have tried. I’d have sliced the offending appendage off first. Not in front of Capri, of course. She didn’t need to see that shit.

  I brushed the hair back from her face. So damn perfect. Not meant for someone like me, but I’d not be able to watch someone else have her. I had taken it too far, and now, I wasn’t just protecting her. She was mine. I’d protect her from me too. Her pussy I’d keep pleased with my mouth. I hadn’t thought I would enjoy that, but I’d been wrong. I was gonna need it from now on. Smirking, I watched her curl up, arching toward the touch of my hand. She was gonna need it too.

  My angel wasn’t tarnished. I’d left her just as perfect as she had always been. I had just shown her the heaven that did exist, and she’d let me taste it.

  • Twenty-Eight •

  It wasn’t a pissing contest.

  Capri

  The banging noise woke me, and it took me a moment to figure out what it was. The sound of Esther yelling my name, however, cleared that up. I tossed off the covers to get up when I realized I was naked. I stared down at my body, and it took about point-three seconds before I remembered.

  Thatcher.

  I touched my thigh as last night all started replaying in my head.

  More banging on my door snapped me out of really good memories, and I got up. Going to my dresser, I grabbed an oversize T-shirt I slept in and tugged it over my head as I made my way to the door. She was going to scare my neighbors.

  When I opened it, her eyes did a quick check on my body, seeing nothing wrong, and then she pushed past me to come inside.

  “Oh my God, Capri! You scared me to death! I woke up with three missed calls and ten text messages from Tyron! What happened last night with Thatcher Shephard? It was Thatcher, wasn’t it? He said it was a guy you worked for—smoking a cigarette, had on a cowboy hat, gave off psycho vibes.”

  I sighed, closing my door. I should have guessed that Tyron would call Esther. The fact that the cops never came, however, just dawned on me. I’d been too busy having orgasms last night to notice.

  “I’m fine. It was Thatcher. He had some work stuff to talk about. He wasn’t being psycho. Tyron was being weird and refusing to leave.”

  I needed coffee to handle this. Leaving her in the living room, I walked into the kitchen.

  “He called the cops, Capri. The COPS. He clearly had a reason to think there was danger.”

  I opened the cabinet to get out a coffee cup, then grabbed a pod for my machine. “The cops didn’t think it was important either, seeing as how they never came. We talked about my helping out until they fill their exercise rider position. It’s a lot to plan out and take on. We went over it. I told Tyron it was business, and it was. He saw Thatcher and got weird or jealous. I don’t know. You’ve seen Thatcher. He’s intimidating for other men.”

  “Yeah, because he’s a murderer and in the Mafia.”

  I rolled my eyes and covered my mouth with a yawn. I wished she’d leave and let me have my morning with my thoughts. Wait. Shit! What time was it? My eyes swung to the microwave. It was six forty. I wasn’t late yet.

  “I’ve got to get ready. I have to be at the stables at seven. I told Sebastian I’d be there,” I said, leaving my coffee untouched and rushing to the bedroom to change.

  “Are you serious?! All this was no big deal? Because Tyron said that Thatcher picked him up by the throat. That’s a big allegation for someone to make up.”

  Dammit, Tyron. Why was he telling people? I had saved him last night. I didn’t know if I could save him again. What if I wasn’t around and Thatcher went after him? No. He wouldn’t do that. I didn’t think. I was so confused about last night and this morning. Thatcher had left when I woke up, which stung, but then I’d gone to sleep on him too. He’d given me two life-shattering orgasms, and I’d thanked him by passing out.