Used (Unlovable, #1) (Unlovable Series)

by Halat, Lynetta

  “Trust me,” he says, as he buries his mouth in the hollow of my throat. His hands slide in my back pockets, grasping and squeezing. “We promised. No touching like that. No sex. Even though I can’t wait to be inside you again, this is gonna have to do.” He drops his forehead on mine. Those fiery eyes meet mine, igniting a blaze. “The best non-fuck fuck of your life.” And those words douse it with kerosene, creating an inferno. A tremble works its way through me, and I almost come right then.

  “Move yourself against my thigh,” he says. I don't even think. I just start moving. Oh, that feels good.

  He clutches my hips and grinds me against him harder, making me gasp. Ahh ... that feels better than good, it’s incredible. I groan at the friction our jeans create against my needy core. “Oh, yes, Greer, yes.”

  “You like that?” He thrusts against me. His length against my belly, pressing the metal button of my jeans into me. “Imagine my cock sliding over your clit.”

  Whimper.

  Grind.

  Tremble.

  Our bodies move together—rhythmic, knowing.

  “Yeah, just like that. Over and over again. It’s so tight. That little bud. That needy little bud. I work it with my hard dick, my cum drips all over it, and we slip and slide together. Electricity zips through your nerve endings ‘cause you’re getting close. We’re so close.”

  Whimper.

  Grind.

  “Greer, please don’t stop.”

  He thrusts his tongue in my mouth and simulates what I know I would feel if he’d allow himself inside me. “Who’s been in this mouth?” he demands against my lips.

  “You. Only you.”

  “Who’s been inside you?”

  “You, Greer. Just you.” I drop my mouth to his neck and kiss and suck and bite while he works my body with his.

  My nerve endings pop and crackle like live wires until I don’t think I can take anymore. It’s too intense, too overwhelming. I open my mouth to tell him to stop, but his naughty words kill my would-be protests.

  “Just when you think you’re going to explode, I slip inside you,” he whispers gruffly. I moan. I can feel him inside me like a phantom.

  “Greer,” I beg.

  “You’re so tight, so wet. My dick stands at full mast in honor of your perfect fucking pussy,” he praises. His shocking words create a fierce pull deep inside. “Ah, God. It’s so hot. It wants me so bad.”

  Groan.

  I throw my head back and ride him, surrendering myself completely.

  Cry.

  Hand over my mouth. I bite it.

  Grind.

  “Oh, baby, clench that sweet pussy around my dick. Wring every bit of your pleasure from me … and give me mine.”

  And with that, I detonate, exploding from within and all around him. My body is hit with wave after wave, as I come and come and come, pulsating and coming apart simultaneously. My head falls to the side, and I melt into him and his truck. The three of us just became one. Someone’s going to find us here and have to scrape us off of it.

  My other senses start to return. The night air nips at my face, the voices from the creek echo over the stillness, and Greer and I hold each other tight in our naughty interlude. I imagine the picture we must make, and can't help but giggle. His forehead rests on my neck. His breath comes fast and heated against my chest. I lean in and kiss the top of his head, languidly.

  I’m in awe of him and what he just did to me. He’s never been like that. “Greer? What the—” I pause to catch my breath. "You've never talked to me like that. What got into you?"

  He laughs lightly. "Too many nights fantasizing about what I was gonna do to you once I had you again. My imagination took over."

  "And what a deliciously naughty imagination you have," I praise.

  He just sighs and resumes breathing hard.

  “Are you OK?”

  “Umm … no. Why do you think they call it dry humping?” I giggle lightly. “Good thing I have extra pants in my truck.” My laughter comes hard now. His finger skates over the seam between my legs, which quickly shuts me up. “Laugh all you want. You’re wet too.”

  Then I’m laughing again so hard I’m crying. I pull his face to mine and kiss him softly through it all.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ransom

  I CAN’T GO back to the creek and everybody just yet, so I grab a flashlight out of my truck and comb through the woods looking for some extra branches to keep the fire going. Finding a weathered branch that would make for good kindling, I place my hands on the ends and my boot in the middle. I pull up until it snaps in half. I continue to ignore the thoughts raging in my head for a few more minutes while I complete my mundane task. I’m not able to fight them off for long, though.

  I really shouldn’t have stood around and listened to them, but when I heard Denver and Greer openly discussing me and Austin, and using other guys and other girls, I couldn’t have moved if a herd of buffalo had been stampeding my way. I had to know. Now I wish I hadn’t.

  I really don’t understand what you see in a slut like me.

  God, what did that even mean? She’s the slut Becky and Amber accused her of being? What kind of girl openly admits that about herself? What kind of arrangement had they had? I’m not naïve to unusual sexual preferences, so I know about open relationships and shit like that. But they’re eighteen, almost nineteen. A little young to be flirting with that kind of trouble, which makes me wonder exactly how fucked-up the two of them are.

  I know in that moment I want nothing more to do with them or her. Most especially her. And just like that, I am bitter, vile feelings overtake the ones I entertained these past weeks. Hell, I haven’t even fooled around with any other girls because I was so set on her. So set on having her. So obsessed with the thought of breaking my own rules for her and what exactly that would mean for us. Oh, I was determined there’d be an us. I know my intentions weren’t the purest, but at least with me, she would have control over how things went down. Sounds like she and Greer just flat-out use each other, and others, without thought of consequence.

  I hear a branch snap to my right and throw my light to spot Pete. “What are you doing, man?” I ask him.

  He ignores my pissed-off tone and strides over to me. “Just checking on ya. How’d it go with Denver?”

  “Not good.”

  “Yeah, I figured that when I saw you heading in the woods alone, looking like somebody kicked your dog. What happened?”

  I find myself a sturdy Black Cottonwood, set the wood down at my feet, and lean against the tree before answering. “She’s not who I thought she was.”

  Pete scratches his chin for a second. “What’s that mean? Maggie loves her. And Maggie’s amazing.”

  He’s my best friend, my brother, and I don’t hide anything from him. But I don’t want him to feel awkward or whatever around his girl’s best friend. “Have you heard of anything being … off with her?”

  His gaze drops to his boot as he kicks a rotten log. “Um, yeah. A little something.”

  I still. “And?”

  “It’s just a stupid rumor.”

  “Rumors usually have some nugget of truth, don’t they?”

  He looks up, his hands finding their way into his hair. It’s his tell. Folding his arms, he cups the back of his neck. “Shit, I haven’t seen any proof.”

  “Just spit it out,” I demand. I need to hear it again. Third time’s a charm to keep me from getting confused about her again.

  “She, uh, sleeps around. That’s the rumor.”

  “Yep.” I pull away from the tree and knock it a couple of times with my fist. “Well, I just heard her admit it.”

  “Really? Kind of odd for someone to openly talk about that, don’t you think? Maybe you misunderstood.”

  “Yes,” I retort, sarcasm dripping from my words, “because there are so many ways ‘I really don’t understand what you see in a slut like me’ could be taken.”

  “Damn.”r />
  “Yep, I’m just gonna keep my distance. It was stupid of me to think she was worth it.”

  “You could try to talk to her about it. Get her side of it. See if it’s as bad as what you’re imagining. I mean, I’ve never seen you so hung up on a girl before. I know you’re usually the observant one, but I’ve been noticing you notice her.”

  Part of me knew that I hadn’t been so subtle. That part also didn’t give a shit. “That’s all over,” I grind out.

  “You fucking smile at her, and you don’t smile at anyone.”

  “Fuck you,” I laugh. “I smile.”

  “No, you don’t,” he maintains.

  “I’m not arguing with you over a non-issue. And that’s what she is. Bottom line—I can’t be with someone like that.”

  “You know, you’re not exactly a choir boy, Ransom. I’m thinking maybe you need to withhold judgment,” my easygoing best friend snaps.

  “Fuck off. You know it’s not like that. And those words I quoted? Straight from her lips. It’s done before it even got started. And you know what? I’m actually relieved. So let’s drop it,” I bite out before stomping toward the fire with the measly amount of firewood I collected. I’m not quick enough to escape his parting comment, though.

  “I think that’s a copout, bro. I’m gonna go ahead and call it. You’re scared of the shit she makes you feel.”

  Stopping, I take a deep breath and release it before continuing on my path. Why don’t I respond? Because I know he’s right.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Denver

  MY EYES FOCUS and unfocus while I stare out the passenger window of Greer’s truck as he and I make the trek to Wyoming State. Fall plays out before my eyes on the road. All the colors changing, all the shapes morphing into differences—all in stark contrast to the little cocoon of life that we’ve had to sculpt for ourselves. It’s become rote, but I love it.

  Rodeo. The road. Stolen moments with Greer. Late night talks with Maggie. Drinking. Raising hell. And classes. Those definitely take a backseat when you’re an athlete, though. My job here is to be the best rodeoer on the college circuit. Not that I’m not doing well in school. It’s just not what takes up the majority of my time.

  These are the things that have consumed me for the last few weeks, and I’ve loved every minute. I almost feel like I’ve invented a new life for myself. Becky and Amber shoot me spiteful looks as often as they are able, and I grin as big as I can when they do. Other than them, everyone has been incredibly good to me. Asking my advice. Seeking me out to hang with. At first I thought it was Maggie, but when she started spending most of her time with Pete, and they were still coming around, I had to revise that opinion. Everything was good. Everyone was good.

  Except Ransom.

  He hadn’t spoken to me since that night in the back of my truck. It was odd. Before that night, he sought me out constantly, even if it was in a small way. And here I thought he got me. Thought he was interested in me. Yet he hadn’t spoken to me in three weeks. Or even so much as looked at me. We’re a small, tight-knit group, traveling together, eating together, partying together, so he’s had to have some interaction. It’s how I learned that people could talk to you and even look at you without really talking to you or looking at you. I was used to people ignoring me, but this is different. He’s fucking fabulous at making me feel like I don’t exist while subjecting me to his larger-than-life personality. Even in our team meetings where he has to address me—he may as well be talking to the fucking wall.

  I tried to convince myself this was a good thing. If Ransom isn’t talking to me, I wouldn’t be tempted to screw up things with Greer. And he had become a temptation for me, but Greer is nothing but good for me. It’s become pretty clear that he’s everything I want him to be, everything I need him to be. And he assures me constantly that he feels the same way about me.

  The prospect of building something real with him excites me. I daydream about our future together, something I haven’t let myself do since we were sixteen, when life was beautiful and bright and shiny. Well, the most beautiful I’ve ever known anyway.

  So why then, does it haunt me knowing that anything I could’ve had with Ransom died that moonlit night?

  The answer to that question comes as easy as the whore who springs to mind. No matter what, I’ll never be able to let down my defenses. My whore gene is alive and fucking well.

  It doesn’t help that, for weeks, I’ve watched Ransom dominate the bull riding circuit everywhere we go. Texas, Oklahoma, Missouri … no one can touch him. Other cowboys can stay on their bulls sure, but Ransom does it with such ease, yet such intensity. It is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and the Baby Buckle Bunnies agree with me. Every city we rodeo in sees its own share of fangirls who are more than willing to forgo their morals for a night with one of our guys—Ransom being on the top of their lists. And, from what I’ve gathered, he has done his fair share of sampling what each city had to offer. He is the manwhore that I suspected. And, of course, that bothers no one else. So it sure as shit shouldn’t repulse me. It shouldn’t matter. But it does. I can’t quite explain the why of it to myself.

  As for Greer, he continues to amaze in the arena and out of it. He is fabulous, and don’t think for a second he doesn’t have his share of girls trying to get with him. He is so adorable about it. He does his meet-and-greet, takes pictures, and signs autographs. I’ve watched girls shove scraps of paper in his pocket, but as soon as they walk off, he reaches in, balls it up, and chucks it. Doesn’t even look at them. He caught me grinning about it once, threw me one of those irresistible grins of his and mouthed, “You’re my girl,” while I was posing for a picture with our mascot for the team Facebook page. That’s the prettiest picture I’ve ever seen of myself.

  His parents come to most of the events. His mother still doesn’t speak to me outright, just kind of talks around me like I’m not even standing there. His dad isn’t so bad. He at least says my name and tries to make some conversation until Mrs. Tanner gives him a “What the fuck?” look, and our would-be conversation dies an awkward death. My mom may have the whore-market cornered, but Greer’s mom is the biggest bitch I ever met. Greer assures me that they’ll come around once I’ve proven I am nothing like my mother. In my head, that translates to—they will never like you; you are your mother.

  I am thankful that my mother hadn’t shown up at any of my events. I just have no desire to be around her. She’s sent me a few text messages, mostly asking about different things for the ranch. No word on whether or not I am going to be a big sister. I wonder, if I don’t go back, will she eventually forget that I even exist? Both are a real possibility because, once I got over not being on my ranch on a day-to-day basis, the thought of returning made my stomach twist. Me, the one who dreamt of nothing but running it one day. I’ve started seeing other options for myself, and it’s freeing.

  Greer’s hand in my hair brings me back to the here and now. He runs it through his fingers for a few minutes while I close my eyes and delight in his touch. “Hey, Denver?” he calls eventually. “We’re almost there.”

  I clear my throat and turn my head toward him as he drives, his hand resting on top of the steering wheel. Looking at him never fails to resonate with me. He’s just that beautiful. His long, blond curls rest in charming disarray around his strong features. Those bright blue eyes, those thick eyebrows and long eyelashes, his long, straight proud nose. You could cut diamonds on those cheekbones. And that mouth. I happen to know how soft and warm and incredible it feels. My own mouth waters, and I’m beyond tempted. I unbuckle and scoot to the middle, buckling quickly before I curl one arm under his chin to thread my fingers through those soft curls. My touch elicits a groan from him. I nudge his hair up with my nose as I plant a lingering kiss behind his ear, which earns me another moan.

  “Baby, you better quit if you don’t want me to lose control. The horses would not be too happy if I just whipped off the road.”

&nb
sp; “No, but I would,” I purr.

  “Ah, Denver, I wish. We’re, uh, kinda in a caravan. We’ll be in Laramie soon, though.”

  “Good,” I whisper, as I continue to torture him. I run the tip of my tongue down his neck, and on my return path to his ear, I taste the tiny goose bumps my touch has erected. Moving my hand from his hair, I circle his thigh and squeeze. I lay my head on his shoulder and breathe in his familiar scent—horses, leather, and Greer. Warmth spreads throughout my being, and I feel … content.

  “Maybe we’ll sneak off and find a quiet spot before the madness begins,” he breathes, as I make little circles on his jeans.

  “I’m in,” I rush out. He just chuckles at me. I move my hand to his chest so his laugh moves through me too.

  Our rodeo here is a big deal. They’re our rivals in every sense of the word. We are continually swapping places with them—we’ll be first for a while and then they’ll take over, and we’ll trade places again. Currently, we are number one. Mostly because of Ransom and me, but everyone plays a part in making sure we bring it home. This weekend is an event stretching over three days, and then we’re off until the spring. I can’t even imagine what I’ll do with all that free time. I’ll have to work my horses, of course, but that still leaves a lot of time. Ransom has warned us not to get complacent, and we’ll have a ton of charity events too.

  I hear my phone buzz. Pulling it from the holder, I grin as I read the first little bit and click to read the rest.

  I’m DYING…to be alone with Pete. You’re DYING to be alone with Greer, so I made it happen. You and G can have our room to yourselves for a while. I’ll be with P. ;)

  You read my mind. You rock! :D You’re not gonna…

  No! Even though I really, really want to!!!!!! Are you?

  No!!!! Greer still won’t give it up.

  OMG! A guy who won’t give it up. What a refreshing change!

  Shut up. I don’t feel refreshed. :P

  I slide my phone back in the holder next to Greer’s, just as his lights up. Pulling it out, I smile at the picture on his lock screen. I flash it toward him. “Your favorite girl?”