Forever Hunted

by Kathleen Brooks

  Reagan smiled and tipped her glass onto his before taking a sip. This was an adventure she wanted to last forever. At first, when they were walking to their beach hideaway, she was nervous. She didn’t know how to act. Should she try to be perfect and impress him? But as soon as she’d lifted her face to the sun, she’d known she didn’t have to do all the pretending that normally happened on first dates. Carter already knew her. He knew she wasn’t afraid to eat a sandwich in front of him, knew she loved to swim, and knew she would crack sarcastic jokes. They knew each other, and instead of worrying about trying to be the perfect date, she let the worry melt away with the sun and focused on being with her friend . . . her very hot friend.

  As they ate, Reagan and Carter talked about their friends, the upcoming football season, and bets they had placed at the Blossom Café for who was next to be married, who would be pregnant, and who Mr. Chapman, the town’s habitual flasher, would surprise next.

  Any lingering nervousness vanished as the ocean called to her. “Want to go for a swim?” Reagan asked as she purposefully, slowly pulled off her shirt and folded it before setting it on the towel as if it were a pillow.

  She didn’t miss the way Carter’s eyes slowly traveled from her eyes, down to her full breasts, and still farther down before she laughed and embraced her sexuality. “Come and get me,” she taunted before she ran for the ocean. Right then she didn’t want to think. She only wanted to feel.

  The water was cool as she splashed in the surf. Carter ran behind her, reaching for her, but she laughed as she darted out of his grasp. Reagan shrieked as he chased her through the shallow water until she decided she was ready to be caught. She tossed her head back and laughed as Carter wrapped her in his arms and lifted her up. He carried her into the deeper water. The water lapped her thighs until he reached water deep enough to float with her in his arms. He moved to cradle her instead of dunking her as she’d thought he’d do.

  “This is so much better than swimming in the lake,” Reagan said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and looked out over the Pacific.

  “I never had you in my arms at the lake. You fit perfectly,” Carter whispered against her neck as he pulled her closer, but he didn’t press for more. He kept one arm around her back, with his hand wrapped around her rib cage and his other arm under her knees. Unfortunately, he also kept his lips to himself. She floated in his arms for what seemed like forever as the sun shone down on them. She was completely comfortable in the silence because she was with Carter. He was quiet to begin with, and growing up they’d had plenty of these companionable silences while hiking, swimming, or riding. Instead of feeling uncomfortable, Reagan laid her head against his shoulder and relaxed completely into his touch.

  “Race me back to the beach?” Reagan challenged when she was ready to get another glass of champagne. They’d been racing each other on the backs of horses since they were seven years old, so it was only natural to race back to the beach.

  Carter grinned, then tossed her in the water as he yelled, “Go!”

  Reagan shoved off the sandy bottom of the ocean and kicked as hard as she could to catch up to him. She almost caught him on the beach, but he turned, grabbed her around the waist, and gently tackled her onto the towels. “I’ll claim my prize later tonight,” he said as he lay half on top of her.

  The pressure of his body on hers had her instinctively arching into him. His hand was on her bare stomach and his leg was thrown over hers as he stared at her. Reagan was sure he could feel her heart beating as he looked into her eyes. His fingers dragged softly across her stomach as he moved to lie on his back, removing his hand and leg from her body. Reagan didn’t know whether to scream in frustration or relief from a desire stronger than she’d ever felt before.

  “What’s the plan for tonight?” she asked, shielding her eyes and enjoying the heat of the late afternoon sun and the heat of Carter’s body pressed against her side.

  “Dinner and then I have a treat for you.”

  “I think this whole day is a treat.” Reagan sighed. “What more could there be?”

  “It’s something I know you love but would never do back home.”

  Sex? Reagan smiled to herself as she wondered what Carter had planned.

  4

  Six hours later, Reagan was about to burst. First, when they made it back to the hotel she’d found her dream dress hanging in the closet. Second, Carter had taken her for the best sushi dinner she’d ever had at an upscale restaurant where she’d spotted more than one person she recognized from the movies. And at eleven o’clock, they’d left the restaurant and walked four blocks to a dance club. Elegant and romantic weren’t words she thought to associate with dance clubs, but this one had chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and a marble bar. And then there was the music. It was dance music, but not the kind you find in the cheap clubs for twenty-one-year-olds where all you could hear was the bass thumping.

  Here you heard the music and could dance to it. The songs were about sex and love and had a beat that was used for more than dancing. Carter had known she loved to dance, but at events in Keeneston, her father always kept a close eye on her. Here she could get lost in the music, lost in Carter’s touch, and lost in their moves together. And those moves had her on fire.

  Carter’s hands touched her everywhere when they danced. He held her low on the hips as he pulled her against him, his thumbs brushing the outside of her breasts as he moved his hands up and down her back, and then his strong hands held her hand as he spun her. He moved her with ease and confidence. Then there were his legs. His thighs pressed against hers, and his knee parted hers and slid between her legs, leaving Reagan’s body on fire. She wanted to strip out of her clothes and do a completely different kind of dancing.

  Carter placed his hand around the back of her neck and slipped his leg between hers once again. Using her neck to control the dance, he bent her back, and when he brought her up, his lips brushed her ear as they swayed low to the music locked together, hip to hip, chest to chest.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” The feel of his lips teased the shell of her ear and had her knees growing weak.

  “I think I’m ready to get back to the hotel.” Who was this breathless vixen? Reagan couldn’t believe her voice sounded like that. But right then she felt sexy, confident, and ready to pounce.

  “Tired?” Carter asked with concern, pulling away so he could see her face.

  “No,” Reagan said, keeping her eyes locked with his. She saw the second he registered what she was saying. His brown eyes darkened with desire, and his lips tilted up into a slow smile.

  Without saying a word, he put his hand on the small of her back and led her from the club. The night air seemed to heighten Reagan’s strumming body as their driver spotted them and pulled away from the nearby parking lot to pick them up.

  The ride to the hotel was painful. Carter placed his hand on her knee and slowly moved it up her thigh as they drove. The lights from the city cast red, yellow, and blue hues into the back of the car as Reagan stared at Carter’s hand. His hand seemed large on her leg, his fingers so sure as they teased the inside of her thigh right where the edge of her mini dress stretched. By the time they arrived at the hotel, Reagan’s heart was pounding, her hands were shaking, and any ideas of Carter as “just a friend” were completely gone.

  Carter escorted her to the elevator, touched his card to the pad, and pressed their floor. Reagan took a deep breath as she watched the doors close. The second they were alone, Carter had her in his arms. Reagan lifted her lips to him, offering herself for the taking. At that moment, they both knew she was offering more than her body.

  “Are you sure?” Carter asked, his voice deep and low. She heard the same pain she felt—the pain of pleasure waiting to be fulfilled.

  “Yes. Kiss me, Carter,” Reagan ordered. And did he. His lips were controlled, confident, and commanding. For someone who was always quiet, his kiss was filled with dominance. Reagan melted into hi
m as his tongue took what he wanted and gave her everything she needed in return.

  The elevator doors opened and instead of breaking the kiss, Carter reached down and grabbed her bottom, lifting her off the ground and making her wrap her legs around his waist. Her skirt rode up, but she didn’t care as he pressed her against the wall next to their suite door. Carter used one hand to hold her and the other to unlock the door. Using his foot, he kicked open the door and carried her inside.

  At the touch of his lips to hers, Reagan lost control of her body. As he carried her inside their room, she arched her body against his, rubbing her breasts against his chest, desperate to be closer to him.

  Carter set her down beside the bed and took a deep breath. He cupped her face with his hands, which were gentle in touch, yet rough from working on a farm. “There’s no going back if we do this, Rea. I don’t do one-night stands, and you’re far too important to me to let go once I’ve had you. But if you want, I’ll stop right now and we’ll go back to friends. But you have to tell me now.”

  Reagan took a deep breath. This was her best friend standing in front of her—her best friend who had given her the best day of her life—her best friend who had already seen her without makeup, who knew her overly competitive nature and her stubbornness. He knew everything about her, both good and bad, and still wanted to be with her. Carter would be a departure from her previous boyfriends, if you could call them that. She tended to date bad boys who hated fathers. And it was no surprise why. She hadn’t dated anyone who was the definition of a nice guy. Carter was right. If they went down this path, it would change everything. She didn’t want to lose his friendship, but could she have it all? Friendship and crazy sexual chemistry? She could, she decided. He was standing right in front of her offering her just that.

  “My father . . .” she said, her voice thick with worry.

  “Isn’t here right now. It’s just you and me. This is your choice. I want you, Reagan. I want you to be my friend and my lover. I want us.”

  Reagan bit her lip and worried. Right here, right now, it was only the two of them and it was perfect. She needed to find a way to keep their relationship a secret, and then they would be happy. If her father found out about them, he’d ruin it. He’d not only ruin the relationship but also their friendship. She’d do anything to prevent that. And she could. Her father had taught her how. A slow smile spread across her face as the answer came to her.

  “I want this, Carter. I want you. I want us. But I have one condition.”

  She saw Carter tense as he asked, “What’s that?”

  “The relationship has to remain secret until I’m ready to tell my father.”

  She saw Carter didn’t like it. His jaw flexed; it was his tell that he was unhappy, but then he looked back at her. “If that’s the only way I can have you in my life, I reluctantly agree. I’m not worried about your father, Rea.”

  “But I am.”

  “Then we’ll keep our relationship secret until then. Should we kiss on it?”

  He grinned mischievously at her and all thoughts of her father fled as she offered her lips to Carter. As soon as his lips moved against hers, her body was enflamed with desire. There might have been buttons ripped as she tore his shirt from his chest. She ran her hands down his toned stomach to his pants and unbuttoned them as he slowly dragged the zipper of her dress downward. As he moved the zipper down, the dress parted and slid off her shoulders before sliding down to expose bare breasts to him as it gathered around her waist.

  “You’re so beautiful,” Carter whispered in a strangled voice as he pushed the dress over her hips so that it pooled on the ground at her feet. Reagan blushed at his praise, suddenly feeling self-conscious to be standing naked in front of him. And she knew why. Carter was the first man she truly cared what he thought about her.

  But then his lips were on hers again and trailing down her neck. If she thought he kissed well on the lips, then what he did farther south left her speechless. The world was a haze of touching, kissing, and feeling. Reagan couldn’t wait anymore and reached for him. This time, Carter pressed her back onto the bed and grabbed a condom. All thoughts left her mind as he took control and began to move above her, leaving behind the perfect end to a perfect day.

  5

  Carter couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he strode into the Blossom Café later that week. Reagan and he had flown back from California, and then she had to leave again for three days. She was coming home soon. To him. Since Reagan lived with her twin sister, Riley, she was going to come to his small house on the back of Ashton Farm. They’d have privacy there to do all the things he’d been thinking about for the past three days.

  “What are you grinning about?” his friend Wyatt Davies asked as he took a seat at the small table with Carter.

  Damn Reagan for making him keep their relationship a secret. He wanted to tell Wyatt who it was who had him smiling like a fool. He was happy. Ridiculously so and he wanted to share why. Instead, he ordered a large salad, a hot brown, and two servings of bread pudding smothered in a bourbon caramel sauce—to go.

  “I’m excited about a new horse. You’ll have to come by and check him out.” Wyatt was a large-animal veterinarian. His mother, Katelyn, was the town’s small-animal vet.

  “I will. I’ll be out at Ashford Farm next week to check on your pregnant mares. I look forward to seeing him them.”

  Carter looked over at Wyatt. His great-grandmother, Ruth Wyatt, had passed away recently. She’d left him Wyatt Farm so he was now pulling double duty in the job department. “How are you doing? Do you need any help with the farm?”

  Wyatt let out a long breath. He was built like his father, Marshall, a former Special Forces soldier. Big shoulders, strong jaw, and yet he had his mother’s good looks. Katelyn had been a model in her younger days and Wyatt’s sister, Sydney, was also a model. Wyatt had also inherited his great-grandfather Beauford’s old Southern gentleman’s ways. It was one of the reasons he and Wyatt got along so well. They both had a quiet confidence about them, and they were both overlooked for that same reason. Polite manners and a lack of military training put you in the background in Keeneston. It didn’t mean people didn’t treat them well. It just meant when something went wrong, they turned to Ryan Parker, the head of the Lexington FBI, or his brother, Jackson, who was part of the FBI Hostage Rescue division. And then they could call on any number of the Rahmi security force overseeing the royal family at Desert Sun Farm. Of course, to everyone in Keeneston they were just Dani and Mo and their kids, Zain, Gabe, and Ariana. But they still needed the increased security from outsiders.

  Wyatt ran an agitated hand over his short, dark-blond hair in frustration. “Yeah, I could use some help. I’ve been trying to do this all myself, and I think I’ve reached the limits of my knowledge. I went to veterinary school and I know animals pretty well. But I didn’t go to business school like you.”

  Poppy stopped at the table with a bag of food and a smile. “Hiya, you two. Here’s your dinner, Carter. What can I get you, Wyatt?”

  Wyatt looked down at his phone and sighed. “Nothing apparently. I have an emergency. I’ll call you about getting together soon,” Wyatt said as he stood up.

  “Anytime,” Carter told his friend before Wyatt hurried from the café.

  “I’ll make him up something and have Sydney take it to him,” Poppy said with a shake of her head. “That man needs to eat. Every time he comes in here, he seems to get called away before he can eat. I can’t tell you how many meals he’s paid for and when I come to the table to deliver it, he’s gone.”

  Carter nodded in understanding. Wyatt looked worn out to the point of near exhaustion. “He needs someone to help him at the farm.”

  “He needs a wife,” Poppy said as if it were obvious. At the term wife, an image of Reagan flashed into his mind and Carter smiled again.

  “Thanks for dinner,” he called out as he hurried to his truck. Reagan was supposed to be at his house i
n less than an hour. They had talked on the phone every day she was gone, and he knew she had told everyone she would not be arriving home until tomorrow. That gave the two of them the whole night together.

  Carter opened the door to the café and ran smack into Reagan’s father, Cy Davies.

  “Hey, Carter. Where are you running off to in such a hurry?”

  Somehow to have sex with your daughter didn’t seem like the right answer. Carter would rather tell Cy he was dating Reagan. But if keeping quiet were the only way to keep Reagan in his life, he’d do it. “Heading home to eat dinner and watch the Thoroughbreds’ preseason game. How are you doing?”

  “Good. Just meeting my brothers for dinner. Here’s Marshall now.” Carter turned to see Wyatt’s father, Marshall, the sheriff of Keeneston, walking across the street from the sheriff’s office tucked inside the courthouse. “Oh, he looks pissed,” Cy chuckled. “That’s the look you get when your daughter is married,” Cy called out as Marshall shot him the finger.

  “This look has nothing to do with Deacon and Sydney, who are very happy, by the way. Someday your daughters will get married, and I’ll tease the shit out of you over it,” Marshall said as he joined them on the sidewalk outside the café.

  Cy snorted in disbelief. “My girls are still babies. They’re not getting married. No way would I let a man into their lives like that.”

  Marshall rolled his eyes before looking at Carter. “How you doing, Carter?”

  “Good. I talked to Wyatt. I’m going to help him some with the farm,” Carter said, eagerly changing the subject.

  Marshall nodded his head as some of the tight lines around his face relaxed. “Good. We should have thought about teaching him how to run a farm, but we thought Ruth was going to leave the farm to Katelyn, giving us time to figure it out before Wyatt took it over. You’re a good man, Carter, and a good friend.”

  Marshall thumped Carter on the shoulder and Carter looked to see Cy nodding in agreement. Crap. Now he felt horrible. Reagan’s father liked him, well, he did now at any rate.