“Glad to do it.” She dropped her keys into my hand. “Here, Clay can drive my car back.” Then, once I’d given her keys to Clay, Harper flashed the okay sign and shifted the truck out of park. “Here we go,” she said faux-cheerfully as the truck bumped over the gravel.
As Harper drove I stared out the open window. I didn’t see a thing. The world was one great big, blurry watercolor.
“Are you all right?” my worried bestie asked.
I knew I should reassure her. But I didn’t have the strength. “I don’t know,” was my answer. It was actually more of a non-answer. But it was an honest non-answer.
Was I okay? I was breathing. That counted for something, didn’t it? Beyond that, well...?
My bestie gave me one of the most genuine sighs of frustration I’ve ever heard from her. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”
“You did everything you could,” I said to the window. What point was there in talking about this? Nobody could have stopped the fire. Nobody could have done anything. It was what it was.
“Yeah, but if only we’d come back a few minutes earlier, maybe we could have stopped it.”
“Stopped it? How? From spreading?” I shook my head. “If there was a fire extinguisher in the house it was ancient and probably totally useless.”
“No. Stopped it from starting.”
Again, I saw no point in talking about the what-ifs. I was learning really fast that obsessing over what-ifs led to nowhere. “I doubt it.”
“I don’t. Mike said he saw someone running away from the house just as we heard the sound.”
“Wait!” My heart stopped.
Was she saying...?
Did she mean...?
“Someone started the fire? Intentionally?” I blurted, anger swelling, turning my blood to ice.
“Yes.” She nodded. “We told the police officers everything. There will be an investigation.”
My body tensed. My head throbbed. “Someone burned down my aunt’s house?” My jaw clenched as I glared at Harper. I wasn’t angry with her. I was furious at the asshole who had just stolen my whole fucking life. Fucker!
Harper’s expression turned regretful. “I’m sorry, Morgan.”
“Why? Why the fuck would someone do that?” I wanted to pound something. Pound it to dust.
“I don’t know.”
I yanked at the seat belt strapped across my chest. I stomped my feet. I slammed my hands against the dashboard. “Why would someone burn down my fucking house?”
Morgan sighed hard.
I cried.
Someone took it all away from me. My house and everything in it. And for what reason? Why? There could be no way for anyone to profit from my loss, could there?
There had to be. People didn’t burn down houses for no reason.
They burned down houses to gain something... like an insurance payout. I needed to check on the insurance thing pronto. Later. Tomorrow.
I was too tired to think straight right now. Tired. And confused. And overwhelmed.
“Holy hell!” Harper shouted, jerking me out of my thoughts.
Why was she yelling?
Oh.
We were at Clay’s.
“This place is freaking amazing,” Harper added when I didn’t comment. She steered his truck into a parking spot and cut off the engine. “You weren’t lying when you said this guy was rich, were you?”
Yeah, so he was rich. I wasn’t in the mood to talk about how much he had right now.
I was in pity-party mode.
Instead of explaining why she had to open my door for me, I climbed across the truck’s cabin and exited from the driver’s side.
The guy had a shit ton of money. Why wouldn’t he buy himself a better truck? At least one that had doors that worked?
Harper clopped up the front steps, and we let ourselves in. “Ohmygod!”
Yeah. It was beautiful.
She scurried over to the massive windows lining the back of the house’s main living space. “This is unreal.”
I agreed with a nod.
“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” she asked.
I shook my head no. “I’m tired.”
“Of course you are. Why don’t you get some sleep? Don’t worry about me. I’m gonna check out this palace. Then I’ll probably crash on the couch.”
Chastising myself for not being a better hostess and at least showing Harper where the spare bedrooms were, I nodded again. She’d be fine. She really didn’t need me to point out the obvious. “Okay.”
As I turned toward the bedrooms, Harper assaulted me, squeezing me until I couldn’t breathe. “Morgan, it’s going to be okay.”
“I know.” I smiled, even though that was the last thing I wanted to do. “G’night.”
She let me go and sent me off to bed with a wave and a smile. As I found my way back to Clay’s bed, I heard her yapping on her phone. I shut the door, and, still wearing everything I’d worn to the fair but my shoes, I climbed into bed and prayed I’d fall asleep quickly.
Chapter 21
Where the hell was Elvis?
Sunlight?
Yeah, that was sunlight warming my face.
Elvis always woke me up at the crack of dawn, before the sun blazed through my window. Where the hell was he?
I opened my eyes.
Oh.
Yeah.
I wasn’t at home.
Because my home was probably a big pile of ash by now.
I blinked bleary eyes and ran my hand over the rest of the enormous bed.
Empty. Except for me. Cool to the touch.
Where was Clay? Didn’t he come home last night?
After a quick trip to the bathroom I padded out to the main living space to see if there was any sign of him.
I didn’t find Clay. But Harper was sawing some serious logs on the couch. The rest of the place was silent and empty.
Where was Clay?
I rummaged in the refrigerator for something to eat. The man was a protein freak. Meat. Meat. Meat. That was practically all I found in there. I grabbed a Greek yogurt and spoon and went back to the bedroom to get my cellphone. I poked the screen and forced the thick goo down my throat as I listened to the line ring.
“Hey,” he finally answered.
“Hey.” I set down the yogurt and spoon and pressed the phone to my ear. “Where are you?”
“The office.”
His office? Why would he be there all night? “Did you spend the night there?”
“Technically, no. I got here this morning.”
This morning? Had he been at Silver Sage all night? “Why didn’t you come home?”
“It was late and I didn’t want to wake you.” That made sense. I could accept that reasoning. “Plus I had some things to do,” he added. “I was just wrapping everything up here and then I’ll be leaving. I’ll be home soon. Do you need anything? Some of that vegan shit?”
I chuckled, which was a miracle. How did he do that? How did he make me laugh when my world had gone up in flames? Literally? “I can live without the ‘vegan shit’ for a couple of days. Maybe we can make up a shopping list when you come home.”
“Sure. In the meantime, do you want me to pick up some lunch somewhere? I’m sure you’ve checked my refrigerator by now. I’m not used to feeding someone who eats like a rabbit. It’s no big deal. I can grab something on my way home.”
“Sure. That would be nice. Thanks.”
“What do you want?” he asked.
“A salad is fine.”
“Remember who you’re talking to. To me anything green qualifies as a salad. Do you want a specific kind of salad?”
“Anything that has no meat. Cheese is fine. And eggs are okay too.”
“Got it. Cheese and eggs. What about your friend?”
“She’s still sleeping. But I’m going to assume she’ll be hungry when she wakes. She’s a carnivore like you. So you can buy her the biggest, sloppiest burger in town and she�
�ll love you forever.”
“Will do. I was hoping to be home by the time you woke. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“No, you’re not. Be there soon.”
“Bye.” I disconnected the call just as Harper’s head popped up.
“Caffeine?” she grumbled.
“Coming up... if I can find the coffee maker.” I started my search at one end of the kitchen. After Harper made a trip to the bathroom, she helped me. We searched every cabinet in the place and totally struck out.
“No coffee?” Harper whimpered.
“I’ll call Clay. He can bring some.”
“That’s okay.” Harper stumbled back to the couch and stooped down. “I’ll call Mike.”
Crap. I really wasn’t in the mood to tackle the Mike thing, but I didn’t want to wait either. It was easy to see how fast Harper was falling for him.
I plopped down on the couch and placed a hand over Harper’s, stopping her from dialing the phone. “Hang on. There’s something I need to tell you about Mike.”
Harper’s brows lifted. “Like what? That he’s an ex-con?”
She knew?
Harper nodded as if she could read my mind. In reality she was probably reading my gape-jawed stare of disbelief. “He told me the first night we went out.”
“And you’re okay with it?”
She shrugged. “He explained everything that happened and, long story short, yes. I’m okay with it. He went to prison to protect his younger brother. The whole thing was a huge mess, but it’s done. He did his time and now he’s focused on getting his life back on target.”
“Are you sure—“
“He isn’t lying?” she finished for me. “Yes. Absolutely.” She gently pulled her hand out from under mine. “Thanks for being worried, but it’s okay. He’s a great guy and I really like him, but it’s nothing serious.”
I knew that look, and I knew that tone. This discussion was over. Whether I agreed with her or not, Harper wasn’t interested in what I had to say at this point. So I was left with one option: to trust that she knew what she was doing. And at her age, why shouldn’t I? “Okay.”
She gave a quick nod then went back to poking at her phone’s screen. Me, I returned to the kitchen to search for alternative forms of caffeine. Cola, tea, anything that would take the heaviness out of my eyes. But after a few minutes, I asked Harper if Mike would bring two coffees. Of course he would. So off we scampered, in search of separate showers so we could clean up.
A half hour later Mike was at the front door, a cup holder with not two but four coffees in his hands. “Someone order coffee?” he asked as he strolled in.
“You are a lifesaver!” Harper exclaimed as she took the carryout tray from him and set it on the kitchen island.
“No ma’am,” he said, wrapping his arms around Harper’s waist, “I’m just a mechanic.”
“I could kiss you right now,” she announced, flopping her arms over his shoulders.
“So what’s stoppin’ you?” He didn’t give her a chance to respond. Instead, he pulled her against him and planted his lips on hers.
Feeling very much like the proverbial third wheel, I grabbed one of the cups of steaming heaven and headed out the back door.
It was a blessedly cool morning, the air fresh. Birds twittered cheerfully, flitting between the trees shading the deck. I sipped and stared, my mind abuzz. So much to think about. So much to figure out.
I hoped the police would help me find the bastard who set my ranch on fire, but I had a feeling it would be close to impossible. Whoever it was, he wanted something. He was profiting in some way. Again, I had to wonder if he was the beneficiary of an insurance policy. I needed to learn more.
I went to my bedroom to grab my phone and give Clay a call. But as the line rang, I heard a sound outside.
A ringtone.
I swiveled around.
Clay smiled, his phone in his hand. “Babe?” He extended his arms and I hurried into them. It felt so right, snuggling up to his warm, hard body, his strong arms holding me close. His heartbeat thumped in my ear as I pressed my head against his chest and closed my eyes. “You called?”
“I was hoping you had a copy of my aunt’s will somewhere.”
“I do. Why?”
“Because I want to find out who torched my house.”
“The police will figure that out. At least there’s a bright side.” He started walking toward the bed, tugging me along with him.
“Bright side? Do I want to ask what that might be?”
“I gain a new roommate.” He flopped onto the bed, and I tumbled on top of him, making a little squeak noise as I fell.
“Ah ha! Now that’s a rock-solid motivation for burning down my house.” I landed with my arms extended, my upper body braced above his. “Maybe you started the fire.”
He grimaced. “You would say that.”
“I was only kidding.”
“You’d better be. Or I’m going to have to kick your pretty little ass.” He cupped said ass and gave it a squeeze.
“I’d like to see you try.”
Moving lightning-fast, he flipped us over. Suddenly I was on the bottom, my body pinned under his. And my heart was slamming against my breastbone. Just looking into his eyes made my bones melt and my blood simmer. He was such a gorgeous man.
An image of his face four years ago flashed through my memory.
He’d been just as good-looking then, but in a different way. He’d still looked like a boy, his jaw not so stubbled and his cheekbones not so angular. Now he was all man. Stronger. Bigger. And more confident.
And I adored him with all my heart.
I moaned as he rocked his hips, rubbing his erection against me. A thrumming need was already pulsing between my legs. From experience, I knew it would only get worse.
“I haven’t been to bed yet,” he murmured as he dipped his head to taste me.
“I just woke up.”
“That’s okay. I wasn’t thinking about sleep... yet.” He nibbled on my earlobe and I shivered. Goose bumps turned the skin on my shoulders and back into prickly sandpaper. Meanwhile my insides flared into an inferno. “And you got one thing right. There is a part of me that is rock solid.” Clay nipped my neck.
Did I really need to sit around the whole day mourning the loss of my aunt’s house?
“You feel so fucking good.” Clay’s hand slipped under my top and skimmed up my side.
Not really.
Was there anything I could or should be doing now?
His tongue flicked over my collarbone. “And you taste good too.”
Not that I could think of.
Oh hell! It could all wait.
I pulled on his shirt, dragging it up his scrumptious body.
He made a little growly sound and did the same to me. And suddenly we were tugging, yanking, pulling, and even ripping each other’s clothes off. Naked, at last, Clay enveloped me in his arms, crushing me into the bed. His hips wedged between my legs. “This is exactly where you belong.”
I gave him a challenging squint. “What do you mean by that?”
“In my bed. With me. Under me.”
I snorted. “Under you? Sexist much?”
“Not at all. If you’d rather be on top, I’m good with that too,” he said as he slid his thick length into my channel.
We moaned in unison.
To hell with arguing. I didn’t care who was on top.
I wrapped my legs around his waist to take him as deep as I could while he pumped in and out of me in an agonizingly slow tempo. I felt every inch of him as he retreated and then surged back inside me. The tip of his cock grazed my cervix with every deep thrust, the flared ridge gently caressing every sensitive inch of my channel as it moved within me.
Our eyes met, and he grabbed my hands, fingers twining between mine, pinning them backs-down to the bed. “You are so fucking tight.”
He was so fucking bi
g. And so fucking strong. And so fucking perfect. And fucking me perfectly too.
I licked my lips and tilted my hips up to meet every thrust.
He angled his head down to kiss me. His mouth was soft and gentle one second then it was as if a dam had broken loose and all the gentleness was gone. His tongue pushed between my lips, hungrily invading my mouth, taking, possessing, claiming. His body did the same. Hands grasped, clawed, marked. His cock slammed in and out. He fucked me with abandon, as if he couldn’t get enough.
Breaking the kiss, he murmured in my ear, “You are so tight, so wet for me, babe. Only me.”
Only Clay. Yes. Only him. Always him.
His words, coupled with the rough way he touched me and the steady thrusts of his cock, ignited a blazing firestorm in my body. I was so hot. So tight. All over. More. I was greedy for more. More kisses. More touches. More.
I hooked my hand around the back of his head and pulled it down again. Our mouths mated, tongues lashing at each other like blades in a sword duel. Our bodies writhed, male, female, working as one, bringing each other to the edge of ecstasy. Heat rushed through my body, a wild torrent.
Waves building. Crests rising.
My breathing quickened.
When I whimpered, he leaned back, his cock balls-deep inside me. My inner walls twitched.
“Babe,” he whispered. “Am I hurting you? I tried to hold back. But damn, you’re so tight. So hot.” His hand cupped my breast, thumb flicking across my nipple.
I arched my spine. It was like he’d found a live electrical wire. And it was sending currents of crackling static through my body, to my center. “Oh God!” I gasped. “No. Doesn’t hurt. Feels... so good.” I rocked my head, opening my eyes. I hadn’t even realized I’d closed them.
There he was. Above me. Looking so strong and hungry. Thick arm muscles flexing. Abs rippling.
I raked my fingers down his arms. “Clay. Please.”
“Oh baby.” His hips jerked forward, driving his cock even deeper. Sitting upright on his knees, he stroked my thighs. He pushed them wide apart and stared at our juncture. “Look at us. Look!”
I glanced down to where his thick length slid in and out of me. I’d never watched myself being fucked like this before. It was so incredibly sexy. My gaze meandered up his flexing abs to his taut chest, higher to his contracting jaw. My insides fluttered.
Jerk: A Bad Boy Romance Page 14
