by Tara West
“I don’t know about that.” I absently rubbed my arm, memories from that night haunting me like a nightmare. Clint had helped me up, then turned his back while I pulled up my pants. Then he escorted me out of the barn, never letting go of my elbow until I assured him I was all right. I was terrified my mamá would see me and know something was wrong, so Clint brought me to his rusty old truck and drove me around the perimeter of the ranch until I’d composed myself.
“Ariana, you were badass.”
My eyes widened. It wasn’t like Clint to swear. Back in middle school, his papa had taken a belt-strap to his backside for saying, “Darnit.” After that, I didn’t recall ever hearing anything close to a swear word come out of Clint’s mouth.
“Thanks.” I turned my gaze down to my distressed jeans and rhinestone flip-flops. “I never found out what happened to you. I should’ve followed up. I’m sorry. I hope you were able to find a new job.” I imploringly searched his eyes, praying he had some positive news. I’d forever feel like a bucket of cow dung if Bud Boudreau had prevented Clint from finding work.
I held my breath when that shit-eating grin of his turned somewhat somber.
“I’ve got a great job working at Rodriguez Construction. We’re putting in the new high school football stadium.” He looked at me as if I should know what he was talking about.
I supposed every person in our small town was shitting their pants about the football stadium.
“Anyway,” he continued, “I married the owner’s daughter, Violet, and we’re expecting a baby boy.” He held the crackers up again, and it suddenly made sense. Savannah had been eating a lot of crackers lately to combat morning sickness.
I vaguely remembered Violet Rodriguez was a few years behind us in school. She’d seemed a bit quiet and slow, just like Clint. Her dad owned a small construction company, only employing his brother and his son. I was glad they’d found work for Clint, too.
A weight I didn’t realize I’d been carrying lifted from my shoulders, and my constricted throat slowly opened. “Really?” I clasped my hands together. “Congratulations.”
He eagerly nodded. “I wouldn’t have gotten to know Violet if I hadn’t quit working for Bud Boudreau.”
“Oh.” A bitter laugh escaped my throat. “Well, sometimes things happen for a reason.” Was it selfish of me to wish that second rape had never happened? At least Clint had been able to find a new job and move on. I’d moved on, too, though not really. My crushed spirit was still stuck in that barn.
“They sure do.” He resumed rocking on his feet, looking like a flag pole swaying in the breeze. “We’re living with her parents and saving up to put down on double-wide and a piece of land.”
“Oh, well, good luck then.” It was at that moment I knew what I had to do. I had to find a way to repay Clint.
“You, too.” He scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish. “I heard through the grapevine you’re in Hollywood.”
“Yep. I’m playing a detective in a crime drama.”
He palmed that box of crackers like a football. “A perfect role for a badass.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Clint.”
“Now if you’ll excuse me.” He held out his palm, on which he’d written a grocery list with a Sharpie. “I need to find a pecan brownie mix, boxed macaroni and cheese, and dill pickles.”
After he walked away, I snatched up a jar of vanilla creamer (which was the closest thing to hazelnut they sold at that hick town grocery store) and headed to the checkout. A teenage girl I didn’t recognize rang me up, popping her bubble gum and flirting with the bag boy. I didn’t pay her much attention. I was more focused on what Clint had said to me, that I was a badass. Could he have been right? If so, why the fuck was I letting Bud Boudreau torment me from the grave?
* * *
I didn’t feel like celebrating much that night, and Savannah didn’t, either. Thanks to her morning sickness, which was actually nighttime sickness. Our bachelorette party was a bust, and I felt like the worst friend ever, but Savannah was just happy I’d made the trip down to see her.
Thankfully, she didn’t press me about her dad. I’d finally told her about it a few weeks ago, after I’d had one too many drinks. I’d admitted to that one time, but that was it. She’d tried to take the blame on herself, but I wouldn’t let her. I was hoping we could move past it now that he was dead. I loved Savannah like a sister. I didn’t want that monster coming between us.
We watched old movies and ordered in takeout from an organic restaurant, and then she let me rub her little round belly. I left early, after she fell asleep and her fiancé’s youngest brother showed up, following me around her house like a pathetic puppy, begging for scraps.
Why the fuck did I ever sleep with him? And his brother? At the same time? Ugh. After I left her house, I made a promise to myself not to sleep with two guys at once ever again, at least not guys I’d have to face again. I wouldn’t have to worry about it if Brad and I stayed together, though. I tried to envision living out the rest of my life with one man. Could I do it? I guess it wouldn’t matter, since I was convinced our relationship was over.
I ended up spending the night in a hotel close to the airport, tossing and turning while I thought about Brad. Why was I so worried about him breaking up with me? I’d never obsessed over a guy like this before. What was it about him that turned me into a lovesick fool?
Could it have been his brains? He wasn’t just a doctor, but a surgeon, well-respected among his peers. And yet, despite his distinguished career, he was humble, considerate, and he had a boyish charm. He was strong but willing to let me subjugate him in bed.
Damn, I was going to miss him.
fourteen
Dear Violet,
Hi. You might not remember me, but maybe you heard about me from Clint. I’m the rape victim he saved. Knowing Clint, he won’t accept any form of thanks from me, but I’m hoping you will. I sold the BMW that Bud Boudreau’s daughter purchased for me using her inheritance. I have a good job now, and I don’t want anything from him.
According to my stepfather, Clint was a hell of a good ranch hand and deserved severance pay after leaving the ranch. Attached you will find a check for $70,000. Please use that money to put down on that plot of land. And tell Clint if he tries to send the check back, I will drive down to Texas and purchase the land in Clint’s name. Please don’t make me do that. I have enough going on in my life right now.
Many thanks,
Ariana Delarosa Alvarado
* * *
I sealed the letter and check, and sent it off certified mail, then I drove my new car to the hospital where Brad worked. He’d texted me he was working an all-nighter but asked if I’d meet him on his lunch break. This was new. He’d never asked me to meet him at work before. I wondered if it was because he wanted witnesses when he broke it off with his crazy bitch girlfriend.
I ended up waiting in his office for over two hours. That was the problem with doctors. They couldn’t just take a lunch break when they wanted if there was an emergency. I’d already gone through most of his office. Yeah, I was a nosy bitch, too. I’d found that rose he was supposed to give me the other day. He’d stuffed it in a drawer.
I couldn’t find any pictures of old girlfriends, but that photo of him and his parents was a little unnerving. They were all wearing polo shirts and standing in front of a yacht. I shouldn’t have been surprised he came from money. I wondered what his parents would think of me and my mamá. Though she was no longer a maid, she’d been Bud Boudreau’s housekeeper for over twenty years. She and Angus had inherited the ranch after Bud died, and they were doing well financially. Still, I could imagine meeting Brad’s parents at dinner and them scowling when they learned about my heritage. Maybe it was for the best that we broke up.
I was about to leave when Brad dragged himself into the office, wearing a stark white new lab coat, his hair wet and slicked back as if he’d just gotten out of the shower. I
guessed he’d probably had to clean up after a messy surgery. The lines around his mouth and eyes made him look far older than mid-thirties.
“What happened?” I asked, wanting to hold him but clenching my hands instead. What if he didn’t want me touching him?
“Come here.”
When he held out his arms, I practically flung myself into his embrace.
He held me for a long moment, rocking me in his arms. Somehow, we found his chair. I sat on his lap, letting him bury his face in my chest while he shook uncontrollably. I grabbed several tissues off the desk and wiped his eyes and nose. I didn’t pressure him to speak; I feared one of his patients must have died.
Finally he let out a slow breath and uncapped a bottle of water. He gulped the whole thing down, tossing the empty bottle in the recycle bin nearby.
When he looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes, my heart seized. I cupped his face, kissing his forehead. “Are you going to be all right?”
“Yeah,” he said, leaning back. “I was operating on a child.”
“Oh, how terrible.” I paused, fearing his answer. “Will the kid be okay?”
“I think so.” He grimaced. “But we came close to losing her.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“She was hit by a drunk driver while riding her bike.”
My hands flew to my mouth. “Omigod!”
“She’s only seven.” He laid a hand on his desk, digging into the wood with his nails, his voice taking on a hard edge. “I hope they lock up that son of a bitch for life.” He pounded the desk so hard, I jumped.
I’d never seen Brad so angry before. I had no idea he could be so... dominant.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
He stroked my arms, causing a shiver to steal up my spine. The way he looked at me, reminding me of a predator about to strike its prey, should have sent me running for the door. Instead, I shifted in his lap, sucking in a gasp when I felt his erection pressing into my leg.
“It’s okay.” I smoothed his lab coat, wishing I could rip it off. “I know this is bad timing, but you’re sexy when you’re mad.”
Thunderclouds swirled in his eyes, turning them an ominous grey. “I want to lay you across my desk and fuck you, Ariana.”
I swallowed hard, my hands trembling. “Okay.”
He arched a brow. “Okay? But I’ll be the one in control. You’ll be pinned beneath me.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, panting like a wounded animal. “Just do it already.”
In the next moment, Brad had pushed the clutter on his desk to the floor and laid me across. He pulled up my skirt and yanked off my panties, throwing them to the floor. Then he loosened the elastic on his pants, unleashing his monster erection that I swear looked bigger than before.
Dear Lord, what had I just agreed to?
He wet his fingers and bent over me, rubbing his spit into my cunt with rough circles. Holy fuck, it felt good. He swirled his slick fingers around my spot until it swelled, and then he fucked me hard with one finger, then two, drawing out more moisture while rocking me on the desk. When he got me close to orgasm and pulled out, I cursed.
“I’ve got to be in you, baby.”
He grabbed my calves, sliding my ass to the edge of the desk. He hauled me up by my waist, ripping open my shirt and feasting on my breasts, swirling his tongue around one nipple, then the other, before stretching a nipple with his teeth until I gasped. When he released me, I nearly came undone. Holy fuck, that hurt so good.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he slid into me with a fluid thrust, bumping me so hard I cried out and clawed at his chest. He dug his fingers into my ass and hauled me upright, capturing my lips in an explosive kiss while grinding his engorged head against my G-spot. He thrust once, twice, three times, and I came like a busted water pipe, my tender spot thumping against him like a heartbeat that ricocheted all the way to my toes.
The orgasm was so intense, it drained every ounce of my energy, and I went as limp as a rag doll in his arms. He slammed into me a few more times, then grunted his release, his cockhead throbbing while he doused me like a fire hose. We kissed and nipped each other, laughing into each other’s mouths as our stress melted away with each pulse and twitch. He lifted me off the desk and laid me down on the soft carpet, tenderly kissing me while making love to me again.
* * *
We laid on the floor in a tangle of arms and legs, stroking and petting each other while recovering from the most delicious lovemaking of my life. As our breathing slowed, I abruptly sat up on my elbows, looking down at his tousled hair and lazy smile. “I thought you were breaking up with me.”
He reached up, cupping my cheek in his warm hand. “No. I just wanted to talk.”
“About what?”
He straightened and leaned against the wall. “About you being more open with me.” The honesty in his eyes was almost more than I could bear.
I grabbed his lab coat off the floor, and he helped me wrap it around my shoulders.
“I had to shoot a rape scene last week,” I said on a rush of air, resting my head against his shoulder. “That’s why I’ve been so emotional. It opened old wounds.”
He pulled my hand to his lips, placing a tender kiss on my palm. “I understand.”
“No, you don’t.” I shook my head, unable to look him in the eyes. “Bud Boudreau didn’t rape me once. He raped me twice. I was too ashamed to tell you about the other time. Or maybe I blocked it out, but I remember now.”
He gently rubbed my fingers. “Why were you ashamed?”
“Because I let my guard down.”
“It’s not your fault,” he whispered, nuzzling my neck.
So this is what it feels like to be loved? Dear God, I think I could love this man back.
My throat tightened with emotion, and it took all my willpower to push the words out. “I know, but I need to work through it.”
He turned me around so our gazes locked. The sincerity swirling in his eyes nearly took my breath away. “You don’t have to do this alone. I can help if you don’t shut me out.”
I threw my arms around his neck, my eyes misting with tears of gratitude. “I won’t shut you out.”
“Promise?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said right before his lips found mine.
I moaned into his mouth when he lowered me back to the floor. Our tongues swirled together in a timeless dance of passion. When he climbed on top of me, I spread my legs wide, groaning in delight when our bodies joined once more.
THE END
A message from Tara West
Dear readers. I hope you enjoyed Ariana’s story. Ariana was first introduced in Say You Want Me, Cesar Cruz: Book One, a full-length, stand-alone novel in my Something More Series. Please subscribe to my newsletter at www.tarawest.com for release updates. As a special thanks, all of my subscribers get free book downloads of some of my most popular books.
Books by Tara West
Something More Series
Say When
Say Yes
Say Forever
Say Please
Say You Want Me
Say You Love Me
Say You Need Me (February, 2017)
Dominate (A Kindle World Novella featuring Ariana)
Subjugate (A Kindle World Novella featuring Ariana)
Dawn of the Dragon Queen Saga
Dragon Song
Dragon Storm
Eternally Yours
Divine and Dateless
Damned and Desirable
Damned and Desperate
Demonic and Deserted
Whispers Series
Sophie’s Secret
Don’t Tell Mother
Krysta’s Curse
Visions of the Witch
Sophie’s Secret Crush
Witch Blood
Witch Hunt
Keepers of the Stones
Witch Flame, Prelude
Curse of the Ice Drago
n, Book One
Spirit of the Sea Witch, Book Two (releasing 2017)
About Tara West
I write books about dragons, witches, and handsome heroes while eating chocolate, lots and lots of chocolate. I’m willing to share my dragons, witches, and heroes. Keep your hands off my chocolate. A former high school English teacher, I am now a full-time writer and graphic artist. I enjoy spending time with my human and dog family, interacting with fans, and fishing the Texas coast.
Please write me at [email protected]
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