Loving a Bad Boy (Bad Boys Western Romance Book 4)

by Susan Arden

  Lowering his head, he splayed her sex, giving her what she wanted and needed with his tongue, sucking her clit and pussy hard and rough. She started to tremble and he thrust his finger into her, pumping harder than before. Relentless until a blush crept up her neck, overtaking her cheeks as her lips parted and his name echoed off the walls. Her body bowed under his mouth and she began to tremble, crying out, “Rory!”

  Chapter 30

  They remained entwined until their heartbeats slowed. Once again her stubborn cowboy had driven her over the edge. She couldn’t wait to return the favor. “Call your brother so I can take a picture of us. The last ones before we leap.”

  “I’m not calling home right now. Go on, sugar.” He handed her his cell.

  Laughing, she snapped several pictures, then snuggling closer, couldn’t stop and took several more of them together kissing and hugging each other and classified them as pre-wedding. Setting the cell on his chest, she kissed along his jaw. “This is so crazy. So out there. So perfect!”

  “Jesus Christ,” he growled abruptly, tossing aside his cell.

  She watched him roll off her and scrub both his hands over his face before he raked his fingertips through his hair. The screen to his phone was lit up. He hadn’t worn his customary cowboy hat to L.A., and his thick dark hair threaded between his fingers. All the while Rory’s skin tightened over his chiseled cheekbones. A muscle twitched along his jaw as he stared at the ceiling for several long, silent seconds before responding.

  “Is this about your family’s business? You said we needed to talk.”

  “Baby, we need to talk.” He turned to her, unsmiling and his brow furrowed. Gone was the light and happy mood. “How far would you go if it meant your dad was safe? So safe it would shut the door on crap he’s facing forever?”

  “Y-y-you know?” she stuttered. For hours she’d actually pushed her personal mess to the back of her mind in the massive Hollywood-party confusion. Hearing the truth tumble out from Rory’s mouth shocked her.

  “Phones have a strange way of delivering news.” He scrolled his finger over his screen, down his voicemail list. “I didn’t even know about this message until my brother came by that night. Back at the trailer.”

  Rory jabbed play and out rolled the message he’d gotten from her.

  He knew, all this time. “When Brandon came over to your place?” Her voice came out choppy.

  “Yes. But ssshhh. Hear me out, baby.” He was trying to get her to listen to a piece of his plan to help her dad. Same thing he’d done back in his trailer—only then he’d done it wordlessly. Oh Jesus. Rory hadn’t spilled the truth of what he’d found out. Never let on a clue that he knew. But he was talking now. He’d come all the way to L.A. to tell her about her family. That’s what he’d meant and had tried to alert her to a problem.

  Gritting her teeth and seething, she listened to the recording of that slimeball Mike with his fake drawl. Then hearing Carlo’s icy tone, and their collective threats, she gasped. Afterwards, she could barely breathe. How had Rory ended up with the message? Not hard to solve. She recalled shoving her phone in her pocket that afternoon when Mike had visited the tattoo parlor.

  “A butt call,” she whispered when the message was over.

  “Considering it involves two assholes, it’s a butt call all right,” he replied in a strained voice, closing the message. “There might be a way out. If you’re willing to focus on the outcome.”

  She didn’t have to think twice. “If it’ll help my dad, I’m in. I hate Mike and what he’s done to our town. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  He turned on his side, and brushed his hand over her cheek, pushing her hair behind her ear. “Somm, this isn’t a problem that your dad brought on by himself.”

  “You don’t have to spare me. I’m a big girl and I get that my dad has issues. I don’t come from a family like yours.”

  “That isn’t true.” Piercing blue eyes locked onto hers and he shook his head. “Far from true.”

  “Rory, my dad is in deep. Twenty thousand dollars deep.”

  “Darlin’, your dad is covering for his wife. Your stepmom. This is Gloria’s debt and it’s a hell of a lot more. More like a hundred thousand.”

  She gasped, staring at him in disbelief. “Dad didn’t tell me. Does he know? Wait, how do you know this?”

  “Miller went and spoke to them. This isn’t the end of the story.”

  “Why is Miller involved?” Because he’s Miller. She understood like they all did that Rory’s brother had connections. “He’s the one you got the information from. Right?”

  “He’s on your side. And about your dad, Sommer he’s doing something I’d do in a heartbeat. Trying to cover for his wife. But it won’t stop this Carlo dude from collecting the debt from your family. Or more importantly, it’ll protect you. The reason for the season.”

  “Oh, I see,” she said softly, trying to digest it all.

  He tipped her chin up to him and his gaze slowly shifted between her eyes. “Your dad and his wife will have to leave Clarkesville unless a miracle occurs.”

  “For how long?”

  Rory’s thumb caressed her cheek. His steely expression stilled her. “Miller’s got a contact with the U.S. Marshall’s department. Within their protection program. Mike and Carlo aren’t the worst of their kind, but they’re bad news.” He inhaled, his ribcage expanding and contracting.

  “My dad is going to move away. Just up and leave. What about his business?” She couldn’t imagine having to relocate to another city to escape someone like Mike or Carlo.

  “It’s cut and dry. Routine and direct out of the Marshall’s office. There’s an immediate offer on the table for your father and his family. One they’re interested in pursuing.”

  “What kind?”

  “A witness protection program. An official one.” He rubbed his forehead. “WITSEC. The kind people enter and aren’t allowed to return from. Frank and Gloria along with her children would enter and each will be given a new identity. From what I understand, they’ll enter the program soon.”

  “My dad is going to disappear? Go away and never come back? Please, Rory. Oh my god. I can’t believe this is taking place.” She raised her hand to her mouth, covering her lips that trembled. Please, there has to be a better way out.

  “If he stays, he could get hurt. And that’s why I came out here. You need to come back home to say goodbye. I don’t want to get your hopes up, but Miller’s working out a side thing. A longshot and I don’t know if it’ll work. But so far only the protection program is on the table.”

  “He’s just gonna leave. Gone. Like when I was a kid,” she whispered, shaking her head, not wanting to believe this was possible.

  “Sommer, I have a return ticket for you, booked for tomorrow morning. We’re flying out at ten,” he said. “It’ll give you the chance to see him.”

  She exhaled a shaky breath. “Can you come with me to my dad’s? Help me face this. If I could just see him and hear what he has to say, instead of living in regret. Like the last time when he just up and left.”

  “I’ll do whatever you need.” Rory dipped his head and skimmed his mouth over hers as she savored the warm slide of his lips. He lifted up an inch, hovering above her with his hypnotizing eyes, hot and feral. “I’d better call Miller.”

  “Please, lie down with me,” she blurted out. “Before you call your brother. Just a minute.”

  “Baby, you’ve always got me.” Rory scooped her up, wrapping her in his strong arms, and holding her against his broad chest.

  Chapter 31

  Rory dialed his brother’s number, “Miller, calling to find out about the plan. I’m here with Sommer and putting you on speaker.”

  “Hey Sommer,” Miller said. “Rory, we’re good to go on this end. Need the specifics on the bet you want to run. As of right now, that’s the only missing piece.”

  Miller had refused to discuss it, no
t unless it was a possibility. Now that it was a go, Rory raked his fingers through his hair. “Your contact will have to contact Mike and get a line?”

  “A line? Okay, define your wager. That could screw up everything with the Marshalls,” Miller returned.

  “Mike has got some sicko action being offered and this time, his greed is going to strangle him. But I can’t place the bet.”

  Miller exhaled. “Not that I’m entertaining doing what you suggest, but the question is begged. What line is that jackass running and why do you even remotely believe you’d win?”

  “He’s got a line on Sommer and me.” The words exited his mouth like shards of glass as he met Sommer’s eyes. A blush spread over her beautiful cheeks. The idea that she was being put through this shit had him back to the edge of crazy town. For her, he swallowed the bitterness of his anger.

  “Wait a second. Exactly what kind of line are we talking about?” Miller asked.

  Rory’s chest stopped moving. He held his breath. Slowly, he snarled, “He’s taking bets on us doing it.”

  Silence on the other side. Rory exhaled through his nose, trying to work the kink out of his neck muscles by rotating his chin from side to side as he waited for Miller to respond.

  “He’s seriously in need of getting his ass kicked.” Miller’s voice came out low. “Text me the info.”

  “I’m on it. It’s nothing short of messed up, but it could strangle his ability to float any more bets. He’d have to cover the losses for his operation beyond the choke-hold limit. This plays into the cap limiting the amount he can take? I’m willing to wager on the side of his appetite and greed. Mike’ gonna double-cross Carlo as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow. And if we had proof, like a recording along with his note, we could square Sommer’s dad’s issue and give that Carlo dude the proof to deal with his own scum.”

  “Jesus. When did you go hardcore?”

  “It’ll work. I learned from the best.”

  “How much do you want to lay down?” Miller asked.

  He looked over to Sommer, stroking his hand down her arm. He encircled her thin wrist with his fingers. So fragile, and his to protect. “Depends on the odds, but I bet he’ll offer up two-to-one, might go as high as four-to-one.”

  “We already have the Kincaids set-up for the program. The Marshall’s Office will give the final go ahead and they’ll enter without a glitch,” Miller said. “It’s a sure thing. No risk, Rory.”

  “Let’s try the wager. Just do it.”

  “Please…” Sommer jumped into the conversation. “I spoke with these two guys. They aren’t going away anytime soon. Not from Annona, unless someone stops them. They had Clayton Bell.”

  “Sommer, what do you know of Bell?”

  She winced. “He’s an awful man.”

  “He’s dead. His body was found out on Jefferson Pike, near his parent’s deserted farm.”

  “Oh God,” she sank down and burst into tears. “He threatened to arrest my mother and made me…count cards at casinos in Louisiana.”

  He encircled Sommer in his arms. “Baby, it’s okay.”

  “Jesus. Rory, are you sure you still want to go through with this?”

  “Now, more than ever. Miller, work this deal.”

  There was an extended moment of silence, then Miller spoke, “Sommer, I promise, those two won’t bother you. But about this plan—”

  “Bro, just see what you can do,” Rory returned.

  If his older brother hadn’t outright dismissed the idea, then he was considering the issue. Miller didn’t dicker. If he didn’t like an idea, he’d shut down the conversation. Or walk away, if an opposing party refused to listen. No argument. If he was willing to discuss it, he was already looking for probabilities and payoffs. Of all his brothers, he’d learned from Miller how to lay down a bet by looking at all the angles.

  “To be clear, that means you’d have to come up with fifty if this thing somehow went south. You need to understand, things happen, and people will walk away. You cover your own losses if that happens. What’s your collateral?

  “Don’t worry. I’m prepared.” He got up and began to pace, wishing he didn’t have to say this in front of Sommer. “I can always sell my land.”

  “What?” Sommer’s voice shot up.

  “Rory, hopefully this won’t come to that,” Miller began. “I’ll be back in touch when I hear something.”

  He hung up and looked over at her. “Don’t worry. You know it will all work out.”

  “How do you know?” Her face paled as her eyes filled with worry. “I didn’t think that you’d have to risk—”

  “All we need to do is secure the line of action that dipstick is offering, and tie him up with his own stranglehold of greed. When he accepts the bet, it’s as good as a clover hitch. Why didn’t you ever tell me about Bell?”

  “He threatened me. He would’ve threatened you. That type of ugly and evil doesn’t wash away. His wife and kids probably need help. When I get back, I’ll go to the Sheriff’s office. I’ve got proof they can use. I wish I would’ve done something sooner.”

  Rory kissed her temple, inhaling her sweet scent. “You can talk with Mia. She has experience in dealing with things like this.”

  Holding onto his belt loops, Sommer gazed up at him, a little of the color returning to her cheeks. “I’d like to. I think I’m finally ready.”

  “Then that’s a win even if this is so screwed up,” he murmured, wanting to ease her mind. “Sugar, this is gonna sound cold hearted, but tonight is just for us. Not as in denial but a hiatus.”

  “Okay. I’m game.”

  He cocked his head to the side, regarding her. “I bought you a bunch of stuff. Don’t you want to get ready for your wedding?”

  “McLemore, you’ve always been so sure of yourself.” She nodded, biting her lip, and he lifted her chin.

  He smiled and brushed a few strands of her hair away from her cheek. Lowering his head, he kissed her and whispered. “I’ve always been sure of you. You’re mine.”

  Rory glanced over toward the bedroom. Sommer had been inside for the last forty-five minutes, showing no signs of coming out. Yet. He’d showered and bandaged the nick on his abs. Now he wore a pair of jeans and a shirt that Jeff had prompted him to buy in his shop downstairs. Not exactly his style, but what the hell. Cleaned up, he felt refreshed, staring out the terrace doors with a glass of bourbon in hand.

  From the foyer the elevator chimed, signaling visitors. He tossed back the bourbon as the elevator doors opened, and three men exited.

  He recognized one. “Hello Jeff,” he said, walking across the marble floor. “Come on in.”

  “Rory, as promised,” Jeff returned the greeting. “I have the minister and a witness.”

  “Welcome.” Rory smiled as the men faced him and he chuckled to himself. A new version of the Texas variety of getting’ hitched hoopla, this variation would give everyone in his family something to talk about, and break quite a few molds back home. Didn’t matter in his book. Big. Small. In a chapel or hotel.

  Finally, after waiting, wanting, and wishing, his and Sommer’s wedding was about to take place. If she ever exited the bedroom.

  “Pleasure.” He held out his hand, shaking and listening to them introduce themselves.

  “Paul Holiday. Minister. Wonderful to meet you.” The minister towered above him, meeting his gaze, pumping his hand. With a slap on his back, Paul walked inside the living room.

  The other man entered with a quick handshake and release. “Anthony Faraday, witness. Nice to make your acquaintance. I come with a bouquet.”

  Anthony was a slight, short dude who glanced around nervously from behind steel-rimmed glasses, and reminded Rory of a kid he went to school with and had moved away to start some tech company in Dallas.

  “Thanks for coming.” His throat tightened as he took hold of the bouquet and looked down at the bright colors. “Sunflowers and ro
ses. Sommer’s favorite flowers.”

  “Here,” Jeff offered him another shirt. White, button-down—not a tux, but more sophisticated than the black golf shirt he now wore. “Fifteen and a half. Thirty-four regular. Am I correct?”

  “Thanks and yeah, on the mark.” Rory’s hands were filled as he walked into the living room with his guests. He said. “We can’t thank you enough.”

  “Trust me, you have. Proof that romance is alive and well is payment enough,” Jeff proclaimed.

  “Drink?” he motioned to the bar.

  “Great night for a wedding,” Paul supplied, “I can be bartender and minister. Who’s having what?”

  After a round of drinks, Rory’s nerves actually cinched tighter when his bride still hadn’t exited the bedroom. His phone buzzed, and he stood up from the sofa, excusing himself to his guests, “I need to take this.”

  “Don’t forget the shirt.” Jeff bounded up with it. “You’re only going to get married once I suspect.”

  “Amen.” He laughed. Walking into the suite’s extra bedroom, he closed the door, glancing at Miller’s phone number displayed on his cell screen. “If this is good news, your timing is dead center,” he said, pulling off the polo that he wore.

  “It’s news. Not sure if it’s good,” Miller spoke in a steely voice. “There’s a crimp in the plan. In how the Kincaids are required to participate.”

  “Required. What part are they playing when it comes to our wager?” Fuck! His mind spun. “What happened?”

  He didn’t want to hear that the deal couldn’t be made. Mike was greedy, bone deep, and hungry like a shark, willing to consume anything, even his own tail for a cash bet.

  “The bet was placed. A wired agent, and you were right. Mike snatched it up. The guy is trading in all sorts of shit. From girls to running drugs. And that’s why this got complicated. The Marshalls were forced to turn this case over to the Feds. There’s a warrant for Mike. He’s set to be arrested, and I had to back off from asking questions. My contacts don’t have answers at this point. The only thing for sure is that the bet was made, and there’s recorded evidence. How it plays out, that’s unknown. Rory, I don’t like when the outcome is risky.”