by K. C. Lynn
“I appreciate you boys ready to battle on my behalf. I know it’s your instinct to protect but we must tread carefully. All we need to do is stick together and we will conquer. I have no doubt. Because our family possesses a trait stronger than any threat.”
“What’s that?”
“Love,” he responds. “Love will always conquer hate and no one loves like we do. No other family is as loyal as we are, and no one will fight like us.” His words ring through the air, strong and true.
“And no one can shoot like us,” Braxten adds.
A grin cracks my lips and my father chuckles. “You’re damn right about that. Now bring it in.” He gathers all of us into a group hug. “I love you boys, our family will overcome this, together we are unbreakable.”
Damn right we are, and whoever is fucking with us best remember it.
Our moment comes to an end when Ryanne and Hannah step out of the house hand in hand; the sight of them inflates my chest with indescribable emotions.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Ryanne says nervously, her hazel eyes meeting mine. “I’m gonna go on and take Hannah over to the guesthouse for a bath and get her ready for bed.”
“I’ll come.”
“You don’t have to,” she rushes to say. “Stay and visit. We’ll be fine.”
“No. We’re done here.”
As much as I want to catch up with my brothers, I don’t want to miss putting Hannah to bed. It’s something I refuse to live without again.
“We didn’t want to hang out with you anyway,” Braxten says.
I punch him in the shoulder for being a pussy and he delivers one back, making Hannah giggle.
My father kneels down, opening his arms to her. “Come here, child.”
She happily obliges, stepping in to give him a hug. “Good night, Papa Thatcher.”
“Good night. Get a good sleep and you can help me milk the cows in the morning, all right?”
She gasps, her entire face lighting up. “You really mean it?”
He nods. “You can be my helper for the day.”
“Sounds good to me. Just call me Farmer Hannah.”
My father chuckles and Ryanne smiles.
Hannah moves for Braxten next. “Night, Uncle Brax.”
He reaches down and pulls her feet out from under her, flipping her upside down. Her laughter fills the night as she dangles in front of his face.
“Good night, little bit. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
“You sleeping here, too?” she asks.
“You bet.”
I figured they would. Until we figure out who is threatening my father, we all stick together.
Once he places her back on her feet she turns to Knox. “Good night, Uncle Knox.” Dread seizes my chest when she opens her arms and moves for him.
“No!”
Both Braxten and I reach for her but aren’t quick enough. She throws herself at him, hugging his waist.
My brother’s entire body stiffens, his face draining of color.
I push past my father to grab her but he stops me with a hand on my chest. “Give her a chance,” he murmurs, quiet enough that no one else hears.
Everyone is silent, our attention on Knox as he stares down at her, fear bleeding from him as his demons surface. They take hold, swallowing him right in front of us all.
Ryanne’s questioning eyes burn into the side of my face but I ignore them, only focusing on the embrace before me.
Eventually, Knox lowers his hand to her back, awkwardly patting it. “Night.” His voice is strained, gruff with whatever emotions dominate inside of him, but within the tortured sound lies affection.
Hannah backs away, smiling up at him before skipping over to me. “Ready, Daddy?” She raises her arms, having no idea the impact she just made on not only my brother but also this entire family.
Bending down, I scoop her up and pull her into my chest, burying my face in the side of her hair before sparing my father and brothers a parting glance.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
At their nods, I grab Ryanne’s hand and start down the stairs, walking away from one family but leaving with another, both meaning everything to me.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Ryanne
The evening air is warm as I sit out on the front porch of the guesthouse, a cold bottle of beer resting between my hands while I watch the sun sink below the horizon. It paints the sky in stunning shades of pink, red, and gold. I’m enraptured by it, so much so that it’s almost easy to forget the evil that plagues this town.
Almost.
Despite my beautiful surroundings, nothing could make me forget what lurks only a short distance away. Every loveless moment of my childhood has emerged with a vengeance, casting a gloomy shadow upon my heart. I fear what being here will not only mean for me but my daughter as well.
Heavy boots hitting the wooden porch bring me out of my sad thoughts and has awareness prickling my skin. Turning around, I find Justice standing behind me, the light from inside the house pouring out, illuminating his commanding presence.
My heart stutters and pulse skips, his effect on me stronger than ever, even with the turmoil I find myself in.
“Hannah asleep?” I ask.
The bedtime routine has become their special time, one I’ve gladly stepped back from and allowed them to have.
“Yeah, she went out quick tonight.”
“The long drive wore her out.”
He grunts. “And all that talking she did.”
The softest chuckle leaves me. “That too.”
His eyes drift over me like a heated caress before landing on the beer bottle. “Since when do you drink?”
“You should know by now, if there’s anything in this world that would drive me to drink it’s this town.” The words are spoken in a teasing manner, but he doesn’t share in my amusement. We both know I mean every word.
Our gazes hold, the truth passing back and forth between us.
I break the connection first, my attention shifting back to the view before me. “I have to admit, it’s really beautiful here.”
He takes the spot next to me on the top step, his jean clad thigh brushing my bare one, eliciting a current of heat to spark through my body. I tip the bottle to my lips, the golden liquid offering a small reprieve.
“That’s why my father loves it so much. It’s private and peaceful, like a world all on its own.”
The nostalgia in his tone has me twisting back to him. “You love it, too.” It comes out more of a statement than a question.
The answer is written all over his face. “It’s home, the only one I’ve ever known.”
My heart pinches at the pain edging his voice. I desperately want to ask about his life before Thatcher. I’m even more curious about his birth parents than I was before. Not only because Hannah shares the same DNA but I’ve also always wanted to know what has made Justice Creed the way he is. Closed off and afraid to trust anyone other than his brothers.
Beneath the hard exterior I’ve witnessed moments of vulnerability. When, for that brief second, his guard slips. I’ve seen it when he watches Hannah unaware. Or when we’re making love and I reach for more from him, demanding more of an emotional connection that he seems so afraid to give me. Or times like tonight, when Hannah hugged Knox and it sent Braxten and Justice both reaching for her out of fear.
He was a mix of pain and apprehension when our daughter hugged his brother. In the past I never spent much time around all three of them. It was always just Justice and me. Braxten has always been friendly enough though. I’ve come to learn he’s the jokester out of the three but Knox is different from them all. Quieter. More observant and even more on guard than his brothers. It makes me wonder what happened to him, too. What tragedies brought these three boys together and made them who they are?
“Why didn’t you want Hannah to hug Knox?” I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me.
His shoulders stiffen, tension th
ickening the humid air. “He doesn’t like to be touched.” His gruff voice is laced with an emotion I can’t quite decipher.
Seeming agitated now, he reaches for the cigarettes in his pocket and lights one up, taking a long drag before exhaling the tension gracefully.
The scent is something I’ve grown accustomed to in a short amount of time. In a weird way it’s become an addiction for me too, just like the man himself.
“You hugged him,” I remind him, bravely pushing for more.
“That’s different. Brax and I don’t apply to the rules.”
Rules?
Before I can even think about what that comment means, he swipes the beer out of my hands and tilts the bottle to his lips, taking a long pull.
I should be annoyed by his audacity. Instead, I’m enamored by the way his strong throat bobs, my mouth watering to taste his skin.
My tongue darts out, licking my dry lips. By the smirk he shoots my way, I have no doubt he knows exactly where my thoughts are.
“Tell me, Ryanne,” he starts, his deep voice sliding over every inch of my skin. “What has you so afraid to be back here?”
The question douses the roaring heat surging through my body. “Haven’t we already been over this?”
“Yeah, we have, but I think there’s more to it. I think there’s something you aren’t telling me.” His knowing eyes search mine, probing for the truth.
He knows it all except for the part about Derek, and I will never tell him about that. Never reveal what almost happened that night because I have no doubt he would kill him without a second thought.
“I think the reasons I’ve given you are more than justified. Don’t you?”
“No. I don’t.”
A bitter laugh escapes my throat. “Well, sorry if you don’t have a problem with people wondering which one of you brothers my daughter belongs to. It’s a big deal to me.”
There’s an angry tick to his jaw, my words striking a nerve.
Too damn bad. He shouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want to hear it.
“All you have to do is look at that little girl to know she’s mine.”
I shrug. “Maybe, but that won’t stop the rumors.”
“Fuck the rumors,” he fires back. “We know the truth, that’s all that matters.”
“Easy for you to say! You’re not the one who is going to be questioned and judged.”
No one would dare question Justice Creed; they know they would never live to tell about it. But what about me? Or god forbid, Hannah? What about when she goes to school, will the teachers treat her differently? The kids, will their parents tell them to stay away from her because of the lifestyle her father led?
Just the thought makes me nauseous.
“We can’t control what is said about us, Ryanne. People can think what they want, they have for a long time, all I care about is the truth, and I’ll be damned if I let a few self-righteous assholes run me or my family out of this town.”
“These people aren’t just pretentious snobs, Justice. They are powerful. I grew up with them. I know what they are capable of and it’s terrifying.” I look away, my words trailing off as fear crawls up my throat.
Silence descends like a heavy blanket, his questioning gaze burning into the side of my face. “Have you spoken to your parents since you left?”
I shake my head. If I never see them for the rest of my life it would still be too soon.
After one last drag from his cigarette, he puts it out with his boot then moves into my personal space, his hands planting on either side of my hips while my head remains cast to the side.
“Look at me,” he demands.
Swallowing thickly, my stinging eyes meet his hard ones.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you, Ryanne. You hear me? I will do whatever necessary to protect my family. If anyone fucks with you in any way, I’ll take care of them.”
The vow burrows its way deep into my fearful heart. Closing my eyes, I rest my forehead against his, my hand moving to his jaw as I seek his warmth.
“Trust me, baby,” he murmurs, his mouth grazing my cheek, warm breath fanning over my skin. “Trust me to take care of you.”
I nod against him, unable to speak past the emotion clogging my throat.
The rest of our conversation ceases when his mouth captures mine in a searing kiss, banishing the fear and replacing it with hope. I cling to the warm feeling with everything that I am, my fingers driving through his mussed hair.
His potent male taste seeps into my bones and drowns me in the dark essence. Gripping my hips, he brings me over to straddle him. A whimper purges from my throat at the feel of his hard cock between my legs.
A growl escapes him, his hands cupping my bottom to bring me closer against him. “Goddamn, you’re on fire, baby. I can feel the heat of your pussy through my fucking jeans.” He pulls his mouth from mine, allowing oxygen into my lungs as his greedy lips descend down my throat, branding my skin and leaving its everlasting mark.
I reach for the edge of his shirt, tugging it up his body, my hands eager to feel his hot skin. He quickly helps me rid him of the material then moves to the tie at my neck, pulling the strings of my dress loose, a sense of urgency claiming us both.
My top falls away, baring me to his stare. The cool air whispers over my naked flesh, my nipples straining beneath his hungry gaze. A noise works its way up his throat as he cups my heavy weight in his hands.
My head falls back on a moan, back bowing as I arch into his heated touch.
“So fucking pretty,” he growls.
A branch snaps in the distance, penetrating the flames of desire and making my heart kick up. I sit up, my head twisting left and eyes scanning the darkness.
“It’s just us out here, Ryanne.”
I look back at Justice, a niggle of doubt creeping in. The main house is far from here and there are no neighbors for miles but what if his brothers decide to go for a walk? The thought is both mortifying and arousing. The latter absolutely terrifies me.
As if reading my thoughts, our gazes lock, something dark and forbidden passing between us. “Does it turn you on to think of my brothers seeing us, Ryanne?”
I shake my head quickly, too quickly.
A knowing smirk claims his lips. “I think you’re lying. I think it makes your pussy really wet to think of them watching us.” He grips my nipples, tugging ruthlessly on the aching points.
A moan spills past my lips, an almost fearful note to it as I try to understand the forbidden feelings he’s evoking within me.
“Don’t be ashamed, baby. It turns me on too,” he confesses. “I’d love for them to see my hands all over you. For them to see what will only ever be mine.”
The dark possession in his voice eases some of my apprehension. He leans in, taking a taut nipple into his mouth, his teeth gripping with a force that has me crying out. Fire races through my blood, my head dropping back again as I give in to the fiery pleasure.
A million stars hover above me, the moonlit sky more pronounced than ever.
When something cold touches my skin, my head lifts again. Justice swirls the tip of the beer bottle around one aching nipple, teasing and taunting. I gasp when he pours the liquid over it, his hot mouth catching the cool stream, tongue curling around my tortured bud.
A harsh whimper parts my lips as he gives the same attention to my other breast, cold and heat colliding with one another before he brings the bottle to my mouth.
“Open,” he commands, his dark voice making me eagerly comply. “Now suck it.”
I blink, confused.
“I want you to wrap those pretty lips around the bottle, Ryanne, and suck it. Do it now.”
The deep command in his voice along with the hunger dancing in his dark eyes has me following the order. Swallowing thickly, I flick out my tongue, licking the rim, remembering that his lips were pressed to the bottle only a short time ago. I taste the faintness of beer and him.
Always him.
“That’s it, baby. Suck it. Suck it like Braxten is shoving his fat cock deep in your mouth.”
I still, my pussy involuntarily clenching at the erotic words.
“You like that, don’t you?” he asks, his voice thick with lust. “You like thinking about my brother’s cock fucking this sweet mouth?” He pushes the bottle deeper, the tip hitting the back of my throat.
I can’t imagine ever doing something so intimate with anyone besides Justice, but I won’t lie, hearing him talk like this turns me on way more than it should.
“Such a dirty girl,” he croons. “Enjoy the fantasy, Ryanne, because that’s all it will ever be. The only cock that will ever feed this hungry mouth of yours is mine!” The last of his words leave his throat on a growl.
Pulling the bottle from my mouth, he replaces it with his own, claiming what will only ever belong to him. His rough hands slip beneath my dress, ripping my panties from my hips and lifting me enough to work his belt. The moment his cock springs free, I grasp it in my hand, eagerly guiding it to my entrance. The same time I press down he thrusts up.
I cry out at the beautiful invasion, my fingers biting into his shoulders.
“Ride me,” he demands. “Fuck my cock. Show me how bad you want it.”
Moaning, I lean back and brace my hands on his knees, using my feet to push myself up and down.
“Good girl, make those tits bounce for me.”
The praise encourages me further, my hips moving faster. Raising his hand, he slaps one pink nipple. A cry of pleasure purges from my throat, the sensation shooting straight to my clit.
“You want more?”
My response is a pleading whimper.
He slaps my other breast, the resounding smack exploding through the air between us, creating a beautiful pain I’ve never known. It makes my pussy throb for release.
“Justice, please,” I plead, begging to be put out of this sweet misery.
