by KB Winters
She wasn’t pathetic at all, but now that all of her weight was pressed up against me, starting with big fleshy tits, I couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. Not that it mattered since she was pretty much passed out on her feet. If I moved, even an inch, she’d fall over and hit her pretty little head.
“You’ll be all right, Aspen.”
A yawn escaped when she looked up and flung an arm over my shoulder or tried to but the height difference made that impossible.
“It’s good to see you again, Holden. I missed your smile.” Seconds later, a soft snore sounded and I groaned. Stuck in a storage closet with my drunk high school crush who was nursing a broken heart.
The universe had a cruel, twisted sense of humor.
Chapter Ten
Aspen
Waking up to the sound of little men in suspenders pounding drums inside my head was not what I had in mind when I went out last night. The fuzzy mouth and swollen tongue told me I was dehydrated, but whatever light was shining on the other side of my eyelids, was too much for me to open up and search for water. I was still dressed in my clothes from the club, which meant I drank too much to undress, and I probably went to sleep with my makeup on.
All signs pointed to a hangover, which brought back some of the memories from last night. Ken fucking that brunette. Paige he said her name was, so tenderly. Bitch. Fucking her in a way he never, not once, not even on our six month anniversary, fucked me. And, oh yeah, he ate her pussy. Ate her fucking pussy when I couldn’t even get one tiny little lick.
I sighed. “Asshole.” I was ready to fuck him up.
But, I didn’t feel like I was on my own bed, and it was too quiet. No matter how much it stung, I forced my eyes open and looked at my surroundings. I was in a cabin, with high ceilings and oversized logs that made up the walls.
A fucking log cabin.
A weird feeling crept into my belly. Where am I? Chained to the bed? That possibility stopped me in my tracks.
I sat up. And let out a breath. I was being ridiculous. Thankfully, this cabin didn’t belong to a serial killer. No chains, just a nice, spacious king size bed. It probably belonged to one of Ken’s shady sex friends, so I slid off the bed, grabbed my shoes and purse, and opened the door.
The place was so damn quiet. The only thing I could hear was the sound of my heart slamming against my chest. I held my breath and turned left, hoping that was the way out, though what the hell I’d do when I got there was anyone’s guess.
Living room. And the front door was only a few feet away, but a form on the sofa stole my focus. Dammit. Holden. Of course, this was his place with its big cedar logs, high ceilings, and equally high windows that let in plenty of light. Simple, homey but sturdy furniture covered in some kind of checkered flannel said this was a lived-in home, not the showpieces Ken’s friend’s preferred. This place was by contrast, understated.
More incredible than the sense of home this place created was the man on the sofa. Holden Jennings. Damn, he was a sight to behold, and with his shirt off, he was breathtaking. He had muscles everywhere. Some of his muscles even had muscles. Gone was the gangly boy I remembered, replaced by a man with broad chest muscles tipped with pink nipples.
Pale skin couldn’t hide eight rippling ab muscles or the deep vee that faded into jeans that rode too low to keep my thoughts from going places they shouldn’t. A light coating of black hair dusted across his chest before turning into a thicker, darker trail that disappeared behind his button. And Lord knows what else. I didn’t have to imagine what was behind that zipper because I’d heard the rumors in high school.
I couldn’t help but think that was what a man should look like. My mouth watered, and even my pussy woke up, despite how early in the morning it was and how gross I felt.
“This ain’t on the menu, sweetheart.”
That deep sexy drawl startled the hell out of me. I blinked, letting my gaze take its time crawling up his body before settling on those blue eyes, dark and sleepy.
“I was just debating whether or not to wake you since you look so peaceful. And because you’re nice when you’re out cold.” Nice to look at, anyway.
He laughed, and the sound came out kind of rusty, like he wasn’t used to laughing much and that thought made me sad. Holden, the boy I knew, was meant to spend his life laughing. I wondered what had happened to steal his joy, but I wasn’t stupid enough to ask.
“Since I’m already up, decision made. What do you need first, shower, food, or home?”
Instead of answering his question, I frowned. “How did I get here?”
Holden sat up. Abs flexed, I had to fight back a moan, which he, thankfully, didn’t notice. “I couldn’t find your date after you fell asleep.”
“I passed out?”
“In my arms inside the supply closet at the club,” he said matter of factly. I appreciated the lack of judgment. “Security said they saw him leave while we were in there, and you were too out of it to offer up any useful information.”
“What information did I offer up that wasn’t useful?”
I was afraid of the answer, but I needed to know. If I humiliated myself, then I deserved it. Thirty-three was too old to drink like that.
He shrugged. “You said you missed my smile.”
That wasn’t so bad. “I didn’t realize how much until I saw it. You were always laughing and smiling back then.” He hadn’t been rich like most of my friends, but he seemed happier. “Thank you for looking after me, Holden.”
“I just put you in my bed and set a bucket beside you. Hopefully, there’s no puke in my bed?”
His bed? “Why did you give me your bed?”
“The other one has no bedding, and I can sleep anywhere, thanks to the Army.”
He shrugged again as he stood like it was no big deal when what he’d done was a big damn deal. Men didn’t just help out vulnerable women without taking a little bit for themselves, at least not the men I knew.
“There was no puke, not that I saw, but the bed is so damn big it could be anywhere.” Holden’s arms went high in the air as he stretched, drawing his muscles tight so that I could see him in all his glory. Pale, rippling muscles highlighted by ebony hair. My tongue slid across my lips.
“Eyes up here, Aspen.” I heard the amusement in his voice despite his hard tone.
Right. Shit. “Uhm, I think I’ll take that shower you offered first, please.” I turned and darted back down the hall, the deep gravelly sound of Holden’s laughter following me.
To keep myself from thinking about Holden, which would likely lead to me touching myself . . . in his shower, while thinking of him, I rushed through the shower. I didn’t think about the fact that using his body wash meant I’d smell like him, sexy and earthy and masculine as hell. I didn’t think of how my hair would smell like his. I washed, and I rinsed, and I got the hell out, wrapped in a towel and wishing I hadn’t drunk so much last night.
It was one thing to do the walk of shame after a long night filled with orgasms. It was another after a dissatisfying trip to a sex club. In ultra slutty clothes. Scooping my clothes up off the floor, I took them out of the steamy bathroom and into Holden’s bedroom. And stopped short.
“What are you doing?” Cashing in on his good deed, no doubt.
One brow quirked just the tiniest bit, and I knew he didn’t miss the way I gripped my towel even tighter. “Those are for you. From Peaches.”
No wonder he didn’t make a move. “Wife or girlfriend?” I didn’t want to think about that pang of disappointment in my belly, so I called it hunger. Hangovers always made me hungry.
“Gunnar’s wife to be. She said they’d be too big, but I figured you’d rather have something fresh to wear.”
Less trashy was probably what he meant but was too nice to say because, despite his rudeness, Holden was a good southern boy.
“Thanks.” I practically ran over to the bed to inspect what Peaches had sent over. It was simple and guaranteed to fit, a simp
le pink tank dress, and she even included a belt to cinch the waist. And underwear, though I wasn’t sure how I felt about wearing another woman’s panties, never mind a stranger’s. Since beggars couldn’t be choosers, I decided to go commando.
Feeling Holden’s gaze on me, I glanced over my shoulder, and sure enough, he was still standing there leaning against the door frame, taking up nearly every available inch. Staring at me.
A shiver tore through me at the heat in his eyes. “Yes?”
His grin came slowly, and it was dark. Intense. “I was waiting for my show,” he said gruffly, but even that didn’t mask the heat in his eyes.
It was a challenge. I knew that. And, damn him, it was one I couldn’t resist. It helped that Holden didn’t think I would, so I stood just a little bit taller and looked him right in those deep blue eyes, feigning innocence.
“A show?”
Was he messing with me or did he expect a payment for services rendered?
“Yeah, just like the one you got earlier.”
For some odd reason, his request had me feeling nothing but relief. He didn’t expect anything in return for his help last night, just the way I ogled him earlier.
“Right.” There was something almost endearing about his bad attitude, the honesty of it if not the attitude itself. “A show.”
I was ready to do this, and with one little flick of my thumb, the towel fell away, giving him a good long glimpse of me in all my glory. I looked damn good, and I knew it.
“You look great for a chick over thirty,” as Ken always said.
God, he was such an asshole.
But Holden looked at me like I was scorching hot. Like he was staring at my high school body with perky tits and a flat stomach, not ten, okay twelve extra pounds. He sucked in a breath, and his nostrils flared as his gaze scanned over my body. Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then his eyes took a fourth sweep, and I nearly moaned out loud.
He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t look away. That heat mixed with anger was a powerful, palpable thing between us, hot and dangerous and dark. But mostly hot. Finally, he had enough and pushed off the wall.
“I’ll be downstairs.”
His bad mood made me grin. It was nice to know someone wanted me. Even if that someone hated me.
Chapter Eleven
Holden
Goddamn it. Why did I issue that stupid fucking challenge? I should have known that tangling with the prom queen wouldn’t go my way this time any more than it had in the past. She’d seen through me and raised the stakes, giving me a long, long look at her spectacular body.
And it was fucking spectacular. Her tits were perfect teardrops, her nipples big and pink and hard. My mouth watered even now just thinking about it. It didn’t help that we were crammed together inside my truck. It never escaped my attention that her gorgeous hot body grazed mine on the turns.
Aspen crossed her legs, and I thought about the treasure buried between those thighs, that strip of hair covering her pussy, and that glimpse of her slit I couldn’t forget. Even though I preferred a bit more of a bush, I couldn’t deny the need flaring through my cock to be buried between those bare pussy lips for a few hours.
Hell, maybe a few days.
Aspen sighed and turned to me, staring for a long time as she tried to figure me out. She’d been doing that since she found me drinking coffee in the kitchen and looking out at the land that was mine. All mine.
“Why are you helping me?”
That was what she wanted to know? I shrugged.
“Why not? You needed help, and I was in the position to give it.”
Hell, even I didn’t know why I was helping her, and I didn’t plan on giving it much thought. Didn’t have to. All I had to do was drop her off and then be on my way. Never to lay eyes on Aspen Holt ever again.
She sighed again, unhappy with my answer. “I really did have a crush on you back then, you know? Started sometime during junior year. You hit a growth spurt over the summer. You were over six feet with wide shoulders and a man’s jaw. Your voice was really deep, and I was sure you’d ask me out since everyone else had. But you didn’t.” There was no accusation in her voice, just shock.
“Until I did.” The words had more bite than I meant, and there was no point kicking a pup when it was already down. Even if it was a wolf pup. “I wanted to ask you out, but I saw the guys you dated and didn’t think I stood a chance. I should have kept thinking that.”
“I was stupid.” She said it so plainly like it was just an accepted truth that it pissed me off. “You think Ken is my karma?”
Kind of. “No. I think Ken is an asshole. You don’t treat a woman that way.”
“Not even me?”
I sighed and risked a glance at her. “Have I ever treated you anywhere close to how he does?”
“No,” she admitted, and her shoulders fell. “You were rude at first, but I deserved it, but now, you have been far nicer than I deserve.”
I wasn’t sure that was true. Her teenage self had been a bitch and crushed my heart, but a lot has changed since then. For both of us.
“You should try it sometime,” is what I said instead. Dammit. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re probably right. Maybe I am just a terrible person, and that’s why I end up surrounded by terrible people.”
“Sounds like you got a lot of thinking to do. Good thing we’re here.” My voice was gruff because, dammit, she was starting to get to me, and I wouldn’t be stupid enough to let her get to me again. Her or anyone else.
“You’re right. Thanks for the ride. And for taking care of me. It was good to see you again, Holden.” She sighed wistfully like she really meant it, and I felt like an asshole for wishing she’d hurry up so I could stop the invasion of her scent mingling with my shower gel and shampoo.
“Take care of yourself, Aspen.” I hoped that she would because having seen her now, the beautiful mess that she was, I sincerely hoped she figured out what made her happy and went for it. She was too rich, too beautiful for that level of unhappiness.
“Thanks.”
That one word held a depth of emotion, and I didn’t want to think about it. Couldn’t. Instead, I watched her walk up to the condo she shared with Ken. When I knew she was safely inside, I made my way back home.
To Hardtail Ranch.
Before I even put the truck in park, Gunnar was at my side.
“So, what did y’all find out last night? Anything?”
He yanked the door open and jumped in. “You should have seen what those assholes did to the Monroes. They may be horny old twins, but they didn’t deserve the vandalism those motherfuckers laid down on their B&B. Wasn’t a stick of furniture left standing.”
Shit. Mary and Elizabeth Monroe were town treasures. And damn-near molesters, but they didn’t mean anything by it. Now, they needed our help.
“Good thing we didn’t catch the bastards last night,” Gunnar said with a nasty growl. “They’d never walk again, and that would be for starters.”
I put the truck in gear and said, “That’s good enough for me. Let’s go check things out.”
I could tell I surprised him by the deer in headlights expression he wore before he blinked it away and gave a short nod.
“Lead the way,” he said as he snapped on his seatbelt.
I revved the engine and left Hardtail for the second time that day.
It must be some kind of record because I preferred to stay close to home.
***
“I still can’t get used to this shit.” Gunnar wore a tight smile and waved at Big Mac in his denim overalls. “Everyone knows everyone.”
I had to laugh. Gunnar had been in Opey long enough to get used to the friendliness of the townsfolk, but he was such a damn curmudgeon that it still surprised him. “More importantly, they know everything.”
More than a few people had made some thinly-veiled comments about what we’d done to help the town
, but I thought it was best to keep that from Gunnar.
After a quick circuit of the town, we pulled up to the giant blue and yellow Victorian that was the Opey Saloon & Lodging. Really, it was nothing more than an average small-town bed and breakfast. The sisters held court on one end of the wraparound porch.
“We were coming back from our late morning walk and found the place vandalized! Looks like a New York City subway car,” Mary said with great enthusiasm. “Remember our trip to the big apple, Liz?”
Liz, or Elizabeth as she was known to everyone else, nodded absently at Mary’s words, gesturing for me and Gunnar to go inside before she joined us.
“Mary seems to be doin’ all right,” Gunnar noted to Liz as we stepped inside.
“Nah. She’s got a lot of theatrics going on, but those trembling hands are more than age. It’s fear.”
“He’s not wrong,” Elizabeth said as she joined us. She slipped between us and headed straight for the kitchen, leaving us to follow.
“I sure am sorry this happened to you both,” I said.
Elizabeth turned back to me with a grin. “You’re a good boy, Mr. Holden. You too, Gunnar.”
Gunnar tried to hold his surprise, but his eyes went wide when the old woman gave one of his biceps a good, obvious squeeze.
“Uh, thanks. Any idea who might have done this? Any recent guests who stick out?”
Elizabeth shrugged, her flirtatious demeanor subdued as she talked about the vandalism, busying her hands by putting on a pot of coffee. “Not particularly, no. A few rough types came through over the past few weeks, but this is cattle country and sometimes even cowboys need a bed, you know?”
I nodded because I did know. Sometimes a man craved the comforts of home, even if they were manufactured.
“Any of them stay long?” These guys had been in town long enough that they wouldn’t be staying here.
“No, but, well, it’s nothing really.” Her hands shook, and I took the tray loaded up with the coffee pot, mugs, cream and sugar from her hands and set it on the table.
“Maybe it’s nothing, or maybe it’ll help. We won’t know until you tell us.”
