Breaking Him

by Sherilee Gray

I went ramrod in my seat. “No.” I gritted my teeth, swallowing down a string of curse words I wanted to fire at the smug prick. “It’s just this drought. It can’t last much longer. When the rain comes…”

  “You can’t predict the weather.” His lips lifted in a smug little curl. “And if the rain doesn’t come?”

  “It will.” I tucked my hair behind my ear and licked my dry lips. “I hoped you might extend my loan. I just need a few months, then when things get back to normal, and cattle prices go back up, I’ll have money coming in. We’ve also got several horses nearly ready to sell. They’ll get a great price. Eli’s done such an amazing job with them.”

  He sat forward in his chair and stared at me. “You’re going to fail, Ms. Smith.” He darted a glance over my shoulder. “I knew your mother when she still lived here. She was a…a good woman.” His stare returned to mine. “Which is why I’m saying this. Get out, get out now, before you lose everything. That ranch is going to fall to pieces with you running it, that’s a fact. Sell now and it won’t take you down with it.”

  I sat there staring at him, torn between storming out and hurling his paperweight at him. I wanted to tell him he was wrong, that I’d been in charge of the financial side of running the goddamn ranch for the last five years. But what came out of my mouth was something else entirely. “You knew my mother?”

  His face flushed red, and he whipped out his pocket square, dabbing at his top lip. “Of course I did. She used to live in this town.”

  No. There was more to this, and I had an idea what had caused the bad blood between my dad and this asshole. My stomach churned. “You made it sound like you knew her more than just some passing acquaintance.”

  His eyes darted away, and he cleared his throat. “I guess you could say we were…close.” He mopped his brow. “We were…friends. And I know she’d hate to see you struggling like this.”

  “How the hell would you know what she’d think or feel? I certainly don’t. That woman hasn’t talked to me since she walked out on us.”

  His assessing stare stayed locked on me, and I wanted to poke him in the goddamn eye. “You look like her, you know.” His expression turned appreciative. “That striking blond hair…your figure…”

  I shot to my feet. I didn’t want to talk about her. I sure as hell didn’t like the direction this conversation was going. “Will you give me the three months or not, Mr. Jacobson?”

  He snapped his mouth shut. “Well, I…I’ll let you know.”

  Swinging my bag over my shoulder, I forced out a “Thank you” and stormed from his office.

  God, had my mother and Connor Jacobson had an affair? Is that why she left, why my parents split up? How could she do that to my dad, to me? Is that why she’d stayed away, a guilty conscience? I shook my head. I didn’t care. Not about her, not anymore. The only thing I cared about was keeping my ranch. I’d never sell. Never.

  I climbed into the truck, and that bastard’s words rang in my ears the whole way home.

  He was wrong. I wasn’t going to fail.

  No goddamn way.

  Chapter Six

  I finger-combed my hair, still a little damp from the shower, and eyed my wardrobe.

  After my appointment with the bank, I’d come home and gotten busy with paperwork. Eli had already been out moving stock from the north field, and when he came in, went off to work with the horses. I’d glimpsed him several times throughout the day but hadn’t sought him out. After what happened at the bank, as well as what happened in the barn the day before, I was a little off balance.

  Nothing had ever felt as right as the moment he’d thrust his fingers in my hair and demanded I open my mouth. Nothing. A shiver slid through me, my skin getting tingly and tight just from the memory.

  When I’d finished for the day and had finally pulled it together enough to talk to him, I couldn’t find him. In the end I’d left a note on the pad by the barn door, asking him to come for dinner. I didn’t know if he’d seen it, or if he’d come.

  I picked a cornflower-blue dress and slipped it on over my head. Hope. That goddamn dangerous emotion bloomed, refusing to be contained. He’d seemed okay…after we…after what happened in the barn. But then he’d left for the night. The thought that he might have left to get away from me stung. A lot.

  He’d had time to think everything through, and I was scared he’d change his mind about what we were doing. That thought made my belly churn. I didn’t know what I’d do if that happened. Something deeper than sex was developing between us. Every time we were together it grew and shifted, changed shape. I didn’t recognize us anymore. It all had changed in such a short time. I didn’t know what we were doing, but I did know I didn’t want it to stop. I wanted to explore the attraction between us, take it as far as he was willing to go with me.

  The kitchen phone rang, and I jogged down the hall to answer it. “Hello.”

  “Abi, it’s me.” Kyle.

  I pulled the phone away from my ear, ready to hang up.

  “Please, hear me out,” he called, like he could see me.

  I had no interest in talking to him whatsoever, but I didn’t want him spreading crap about Eli around town, either, so I pressed the phone to my ear. “What do you want?”

  “I wanted to apologize for the way I acted… Ya know, getting pushy or whatever. You’re hot, babe. I’ve been panting after you since we were in high school, you gotta know that. I just…things got outta hand.”

  Asshole. “Fine.” It was so far from fine it wasn’t funny.

  “Fine?”

  “You said you wanted to apologize, so apologize.”

  He was quiet for several seconds. “Shit,” he grumbled. “I’m sorry, Abigail.”

  I wanted to tell him to stick his sorry where the sun doesn’t shine, but that wouldn’t help my cause.

  “So, ah, you gonna give me another shot, babe? Let me take you out again and show you how sorry I am?”

  There was a cockiness to his voice that annoyed the hell out of me. The guy really was an idiot if he thought I’d ever sign up for a repeat of the other night. “I appreciate the apology, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “What?”

  “Look, Kyle…the other night, Eli—”

  “That psycho fuck!”

  I took a calming breath. “You weren’t just being pushy, you were being really pushy. You scared me, Kyle.” I hated to admit that to him, but my pride would have to take a backseat because I wanted him to understand that what Eli had done was Kyle’s own damn fault. “Eli knew it; that’s why he did what he did.”

  “You’re overexaggerating. Shit, if he hadn’t stuck his big dumb nose in, we would’ve been just fine.”

  What? Jesus, the man was delusional. “I want you to stop talking crap about him.”

  “Shit, whatever.” He was silent for a couple seconds. “You’re not the only hot piece in this town, Abi. But I’m gonna give you some time to cool down, then we’ll try this again.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him to get lost, but he hung up.

  I was still fuming after my conversation with Kyle, stomping around the kitchen, when there was a knock at the door. My anger drained away almost instantly, replaced by a good amount of trepidation—I didn’t know how Eli was feeling today, if he wanted to continue with what we were doing. But there was also a delicious hum of excitement riding me. It had only been a day, but I missed him.

  Tucking my hair behind my ear, I rushed to the door.

  I pulled it open, and Eli was standing there. He was fresh from the shower. I could smell the subtle scent of his soap. His jeans and shirt were clean, and his hair still looked damp. I bit my lip at the look in his eyes, the deep flush that crept over his cheeks when he took me in from head to toe in return.

  “Got your note,” he said softly.

  I smiled a wobbly smile. “I didn’t know if you’d come…after everything that happened.”

  He dipped his head and looked at me from u
nder his lashes. “Wasn’t you saying those things, Abi. The way I heard it, you were defendin’ me.” He shook his head. “You don’t need to do that, darlin’.”

  I wanted to argue with him, but I didn’t want to drag all that up again, not when it had caused him pain. So instead I gave him a little nod and pushed the door wider, plastering a bright smile on my face. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  His eyes locked with mine, and his voice turned smoky. “Yes, ma’am.”

  My belly quivered. “Well, you better come on in then.”

  I sat him at the kitchen table, gave him a beer, and got on with dishing up. I’d put my favorite tablecloth down. It was a floral print—I loved anything with flowers on it. Seeing Eli sitting there, I was surprised how he looked even more rugged, more masculine against the feminine print.

  The steak was done to perfection, juicy and thick. Eli always got the steak when it was on the menu. His favorite, he’d once told me. Well, he hadn’t exactly offered that information, but when I’d asked him on our way home from a trip to town, he’d nodded. I grinned to myself as I dished up the potatoes and salad, then put a loaf of freshly baked bread on the table. His gaze followed me as I grabbed our plates, making me tingle all over.

  He murmured his thank-you when I put it in front of him, then I sat as well, and we started to eat. Eli did what he always did, tucking into his meal like a man starved…

  My potato turned to ash in my mouth. I took a sip of beer. “Is it true?” The words were out of my mouth before I could choke them down with my dinner.

  He paused, looking up at me.

  “A-about your father…starving you, abusing you.”

  “Yes.”

  His voice sounded raw, and it skittered down my spine, my blood starting to boil all over again. “That son of a bitch.” Fury vibrated in my voice.

  His Adam’s apple slid up and down his throat. “Don’t think about it, Abigail.”

  What the hell was wrong with me? He didn’t want to talk about this. I’d made him dinner, then dragged up some of the worst memories of his life before he’d even finished. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling like an insensitive fool.

  He lowered his knife and fork. “Don’t pity me, darlin’. I can’t take that, not from you.” Then he looked back at his dinner and carried on eating.

  I didn’t know what to say. I ached for him. I didn’t pity him. But I’d already jammed my foot far enough down my throat for one night, so I kept my mouth shut.

  “Where did you go today?” he asked a few minutes later.

  I’d hoped to avoid this conversation, but Eli worked here, so he deserved to know what was going on. “The bank. Things are…they’re not great at the moment. I asked Connor Jacobson for a loan extension.”

  His brow scrunched. “That bad?”

  “Yes.” Humiliation heated my face. I hated that I was failing. Maybe Connor was right…

  “Will the horses cover it?”

  The two that were nearly ready for sale would definitely free things up. “Yes, but they’re not there yet.”

  “They’re close. I’ll have them ready in a week.”

  “You’re putting in enough hours as it is…”

  “One week, Abigail. Start looking for buyers.”

  I was as independent as the next woman. I liked it that way. But the way he’d said that, the way he made it impossible to doubt him, impossible not to trust that he’d come through for me… God, it made me want to crawl across the table and climb into his lap. He’d taken my troubles on himself instantly and offered up a solution, was willing to put in the extra time, take on the extra work to help me. I think he took a little piece of my heart in that moment.

  We ate in silence after that, and despite the conversation we’d had so far, it wasn’t uncomfortable. But I was restless—and achy, and going a little bit nuts having him this close and not touching me. The fact that he’d now finished eating and was watching me wasn’t helping one goddamn bit, either.

  I finally finished, put down my knife and fork, and looked up at him. “Dessert?”

  He shifted in his seat, then shook his head.

  Was he going to go? I didn’t want him to go. I wanted more of what he gave me in the barn.

  I didn’t mind the silences, but I hated that I didn’t know what he was thinking or feeling. Was he as desperate for me as I was for him? I stood and collected our plates, then headed back to the table to grab his empty beer bottle and what was left of the bread. I leaned over the table…

  His hand pressed against my lower back and I stilled. Just that, that simple touch—and I was an addict getting a much-needed hit of my favorite drug.

  It slid up along my spine until his hand was between my shoulder blades, heat radiating through the fabric of my dress. He touched my hair gently, making my head tingle, then dragged his palm down again, until it rested just above my ass. Oh God.

  His fingers flexed, dipping farther, and he stilled, making a throaty sound.

  He’d discovered my lack of underwear. The heat of that wide, rough palm dropped lower, down to my butt cheek, and he lightly squeezed.

  I moaned softly, holding my breath as slowly, ever so slowly, he slid the fabric higher. His breathing had grown choppy, choppier than my own. “You’re bare under this pretty dress?”

  “Yes.” Cool air kissed my thighs, then higher.

  “Oh, darlin’,” he said huskily.

  I squirmed. He was still seated, right there. Could he see how slick my thighs were? How much I wanted him? Then his hand was on me again, this time with nothing between us.

  “So pretty,” he murmured, then my dress was lifted higher, and the hot press of his lips grazed the base of my spine. Fire shot between my thighs, knees turning to jelly. And the whole time, his hand squeezed and massaged my ass. He continued with the soft kisses, grip firm, holding me where I was, bent over the table, where he wanted me.

  I was already wet. Just sitting across the table from him had made me that way. But this…

  I started to shake.

  “Jesus Christ, Abigail.”

  He jerked me away from the table suddenly and spun me around. My dress dropped back into place before his hands landed on my hips. He looked up at me as he spread his heavy thighs and drew me closer. Lowering his head, he pressed his face to my belly, then he hefted me higher, ass against the edge of the table, and dipped lower, nose sliding over the thin fabric covering my belly button. His massive arms slid around my waist, and the chair scraped against the floor as he shifted closer, so he could go lower still. The cotton of my dress cupped my mound, hiding nothing, and I whimpered when his nose bumped against it, grabbing for the table behind me so I didn’t collapse in a heap.

  He ran his nose up and down my slit and drew in a deep breath. A heavy shudder moved through his powerful body, then his tongue darted out, pressing against the thin fabric, grazing my swollen clit through it.

  My legs spread wider all on their own, silently asking for more. I was close to losing my mind, I wanted this man so much.

  He looked up at me, and there was so much raw hunger there, I couldn’t think straight. “Love the way you smell,” he rasped. “I want to taste it, darlin’. Will you let me?”

  I threaded my fingers through his dark hair, and he moaned, leaning into me like he had that first night in the barn. His fingers were restless against my hips, and there was a desperation in his eyes that, even though it should be impossible, sent my arousal higher. “Yes.”

  I barely got the word out, and he lifted me higher until I was sitting on the table properly in front of him. The chair scraped again, and he came closer, my legs spreading wider to make room for his wide shoulders.

  I was full-on panting when he began sliding my dress up. The slight tremble in his hands, the way he licked his lips, sent my anticipation through the ceiling. My thighs quivered as his roughened palms skated higher, spreading me wider. His eyes were locked on the spot between my thighs, and the d
ark excitement on his face, the way his nostrils flared when I was fully revealed to him, had me on the verge of coming before he’d even put his mouth on me.

  Then he leaned in, pressing his lips to my upper thigh. The scruff covering his jaw lightly scraped my skin, and I was in sensation overload. He rested his cheek there, eyes on my swollen lips as he dragged his other hand higher, then without warning, pressed his thumb deep, sliding the pad over my opening.

  I gasped and fought to stay still, to let him explore my body, but right then it was the hardest thing I’d ever done. He slid his thumb up and back several times, spreading my arousal, sliding over my throbbing clit, playing with me, exploring. Then after one more press and slide through my aching lips, he took his thumb away and sucked it into his mouth. His eyes drifted shut, a moan rumbling from his massive chest, and he licked it clean.

  His eyes shot open, and his hands went to my hips, fingers digging in a second before he jerked me closer and buried his face between my thighs. I cried out when his mouth made contact with my swollen flesh, when he opened his lips around my entrance and dragged his tongue over me. I fell to my elbows, knocking his empty beer bottle over. He sucked and licked, kissing me like he’d kissed my mouth the day before. His nose bumped my clit, and I whimpered, hand going to his head, fisting his hair, unable to stop myself from grinding against him. He growled, and the sound vibrated through me.

  Holy shit.

  He tormented me for the longest time, until I was near out of my mind. Then, finally, he pushed a thick finger inside me, his lips wrapping around my clit, sucking at the same time. I hadn’t expected it, and fire washed through me. I screamed at the rough, delicious intrusion. My orgasm slamming into me hard and fast. I squeezed my thighs closed around his head, while I arched, rubbing my spasming sex against his face. His hands went to my ass and held me there, eating me like he couldn’t get enough, keeping me there, spiraling out of control, at the mercy of his wicked tongue.

  Finally I collapsed back, flat on the table, trying to catch my breath. Eli was still between my thighs, gently kissing and licking me, nuzzling my inner thigh, sucking my skin.