Bunny and the Beast [Divine Creek Ranch 22] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

by Heather Rainier

  She slid a hand into her back pocket and waved the other one in a dismissive gesture. “She’s probably already telling her man problems to some other schmuck in there. Why women do that, I’ll never understand. My girlfriends are sitting on the other side of the club. The corner is kind of dark, so I’ll just slip back in, and she won’t even see me.” She brushed the perspiration and strands of her red hair which were curling up in the September heat and humidity from her forehead.

  He tilted his head and gave her a look that usually guaranteed obedience. “But you and I need to finish our conversation from the other night.”

  “Which conversation? The one where I told you that if you’re not feeding me, financing me, or fucking me—”

  He grasped her arm and pulled her farther from the door, where the bouncers were doing a stellar job hiding their amusement. “Keep your voice down. I am referring to our time in the stairwell.”

  The roses in her cheeks bloomed brighter, and she jerked her arm from his grasp and leaned toward him, completely unfazed by their height differential. “I’m sorry. My take on our time on the stairs was that you’d just as soon keep it secret so your precious little subbie-whatever doesn’t find out. I didn’t want to go anywhere with you tonight. I was just helping you out of a bind. That’s what a friend would do. I guess I stuck my neck out when I shouldn’t have. Later, friend.”

  Amusement probably wasn’t the best reaction, but he imagined they must look like a Chihuahua yapping at a mastiff. And he certainly wished he could eat her in one bite.

  He halted her return to the club with a gentle grasp on her arm and nodded at Mike when he brought her purse out to him. The bouncer quietly mentioned that she’d arrived with Violet and her men. Good of Ethan to be aware of what was going on in his club. That was what a good Dom did, no matter what the activities taking place on the premises were.

  “My purse!” She yanked it from his hand, and he chuckled when he heard her tiny growl. Such a fiery little thing.

  “Come with me, fiammetta, I want to talk with you.”

  “Why do you keep calling me that? I’m not your fee-whatever. Jeez, are you dumb? I was being your wingman in there. I’m not your date.”

  He tugged her close until they were nose-to-nose and growled back. “Good, because we’re not dating.”

  “Well…well…you’re not the boss of me, either!” She yanked at her arm, but when his grip didn’t loosen, she firmed her succulent lips and then bared her white little teeth over his hand, milliseconds from biting him.

  “Don’t. You. Dare.”

  Obviously not given to taking orders, or warnings, well, the little tigress sank her sharp teeth into the flesh between his thumb and index finger.

  He halted his initial reaction, which would’ve been to jerk back, the risk of hurting her teeth or jaw stopping him. Instead, he swore and let her go.

  Panting, she put her hand to her mouth, and at first, he thought she might have hurt herself. Then the look of horror flashed across her face, as if she hadn’t expected to do that. Impetuous brat.

  The moment was over in a flash as she balled up her hands and glowered at him. “You made me do that, you jackass. Next time, remember I don’t react well to being manhandled.” Scowling, she turned back toward the club and then halted, growling in frustration, a little sound he’d heard her utter before and that he should not find amusing but did. He doubted she even realized what she’d just said, but he definitely planned on there being a “next time.”

  She turned away from the club and walked down the sidewalk in front of the building, toward the state highway. She paused, and then, determining her course, she set out at a stomping pace, muttering to herself the whole way.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he yelled.

  Bunny turned back to him, the wind buffeting her fiery curls around her face. “I’m walking home, dickhead! I can’t very well go back inside. They’d ask questions I don’t feel like answering!” He was well acquainted with the petulant displays of subs and expected her to stop when she realized it wouldn’t work on him, but she continued on into the night, and his dismay grew.

  “You mean to walk all the way?”

  She didn’t halt this time, just looked back at him, her beautiful face radiant with emotion in the streetlights lining the state highway. “No, I plan to sprout wings and fly. You really are a simpleton, aren’t you?”

  Watching her rounded backside twitch with her furious pace, he muttered under his breath. “Spanking that ass is going to feel so fucking good.” A tingle of anticipation started in his shoulders and ran down his arms to his hands.

  Chapter Two

  Utterly mortified at her uncharacteristically violent reaction to Joseph’s refusal to release her, Bunny put her hand over her mouth as the dark enveloped her. Her teeth throbbed a little, and her fury took a precipitous plunge into horror.

  “I can’t believe I actually bit him.”

  Her head knew the action was a reflex, a reaction to the times in the past when she’d had a need to protect herself and her brother. Her heart was palpitating because she knew the difference between the thugs she’d had to fight against and the man standing stupefied outside the club.

  Joseph was nothing like them.

  You bit the man. Bit him! Not only could he file assault charges on her, she knew she was in the wrong. He’d wanted to talk to her, and she believed he was sincere. She was certain he didn’t have intentions to harm her, unless she counted the way his palm got twitchy as she’d mouthed off to him, but that hadn’t scared her a bit.

  She’d hauled off and bitten him. She could just imagine what Grinnie would say if she was there. Bunny’s heart ached at knowing her actions would disappoint her grandmother.

  What should you do now? Grinnie’s voice echoed in her mind, the soft southern accent soothing and encouraging.

  “I know, I know,” she muttered to herself. “I should apologize and make it right, damn it.” She could almost hear Grinnie’s laughter, somehow reinforcing her words without shaming her with a long lecture.

  “I’m so glad to hear that. I think I’ll take your apology while you kneel, before I place you over my knee,” the deep, raspy voice said from behind her in clipped tones, and then she was spun about and the world went topsy-turvy.

  The highway bobbed upside down as Joseph carried her on his shoulder back to the Dancing Pony’s parking lot. Kicking her feet, she struggled to be put down. “That’s never going to happen and you know it! Put me down!”

  “Be still and be quiet,” he growled, and then a resounding pop rent the air and pain licked across her ass cheeks. “Unless your plan includes explaining to Hank Stinson or a member of his force why I have teeth marks on my hand.”

  Good point, since I’m the assailant with a business reputation to protect and a brother who needs taking care of.

  Joseph continued on, oblivious to her inner counseling session. “I’m sure Hank would be amused by your hissy fit. He might even have some creative suggestions for how I deal with you, after making sure you’re not under any true duress, of course.”

  “You—you—you—”

  “Son of a bitch,” he provided. “I know I’m a son of a bitch to you right now. But I’m also the son of a bitch who wants to sit down with you and have an adult conversation, or confrontation, without the histrionics.” His shoulder rolled as he heaved a sigh, and over the rush of the wind, she thought she heard him whisper, “Damn it, Hazelle. Well done.”

  She told herself it was simple curiosity at the self-loathing in his tone that stilled her struggles.

  A few minutes later, buckled into his gun-metal gray, to-to-totally gorgeous BMW i8, she asked, “Where are you taking me?”

  The engine came to sultry, rumbling life, giving her goosebumps, and she had to suppress a grin as she appreciated the sound. “Home.”

  Focus! “To yours or mine?”

  He paused, and she wanted to knock off the lops
ided grin curving his sensual lips. “Yours. Why? Would you rather go to my home?”

  She pursed her lips because he’d caught her slip. “No. Your house is too far but also too close to all those whips and chains you must have hidden in your secret dungeon lair.”

  Joseph snorted in amusement and kept his eyes on the road. “Fine. We’ll go to your house.”

  “We can’t.”

  “Why not?” he asked, using a clipped tone that made her teeth grind.

  “Because I said so. I’m sure you’re not used to being told no, but get used to it in my presence. You’re gonna hear it a lot, honey.”

  Instead of getting pissed off, his eyebrows rose, and he glanced at her. “Is that a fact? So you plan for me to be in your presence quite a bit, do you?”

  She fisted her hand in her lap. “No! That’s not what I meant, damn it.”

  Oh yeah it is. You like him. You want him in more than just your presence, honey.

  Since talking back to your inner devil was frowned upon, she ignored the stupid voice and struggled to keep up with the real conversation. “I just meant I’m not one of your doormats. You keep pushing me around, and it won’t work.”

  He gestured to the dashboard. “You’re in my car, aren’t you? You got in willingly, didn’t you? Maybe my methods aren’t as fruitless as you think. And since when do you think I prefer ‘doormats’?”

  Frowning, she said, “Your subs. They enjoy you pushing them around and humiliating them. I’m not that kind of girl, and I never will be.”

  He pulled over on a dark stretch of road. “You have some mistaken ideas about what I enjoy, Bunny Carrigan, and you need to do some research before you criticize what I do and who I am. I don’t appreciate being judged incorrectly by you any more than you would enjoy it.”

  Taking a deep breath, Bunny held up her hands in surrender, knowing she was talking to a brick wall. “Tell you what. Right here and now, I’ll tell you I’m sorry. I’m sorry for biting you. I’m sorry for cussing at you. I’m sorry for pushing your buttons, setting you off, and getting your back up. Take your pick. You and I are like oil and water. We don’t mix. We shouldn’t mix.”

  “More like gas fumes and a lit match.”

  “What?” she asked, turning to look him in the eyes.

  Staring at his hands on the wheel, he whispered, “We’re more like gas fumes and a lit match. Get them anywhere near each other and they explode.” His grip tightened on the wheel.

  Shaking her head at his quibbling, she said, “Whatever. I said I’m sorry, and nothing more needs to be said. Let’s just say we tried to be friends and call this one a draw.”

  “A mutual loss.”

  “Shut up with your correcting me. Just drive me to the corner of Main and Landon Street and I can walk home from there—”

  Words froze in her throat when he turned his gaze on her. Suddenly his hands were in her hair, gripping it firmly by the roots as his lips crushed hers, sending a shockwave through her system, confusing her with the need to be held even tighter—until it hurt. She wrapped her arms around him as if clinging to a pier in a storm, about to be swept away by a tidal wave.

  He released her to draw a rasping breath. “We’re not nearly done, woman. We’ve just barely gotten started.”

  Craving the heat of his mouth, his taste, she couldn’t summon an argument as he yanked her over the console and crushed her to his chest. Sinking her fingers into the short hair at his nape, she held on as tightly as she could, wishing she could burrow inside of him, be held close and protected.

  And what will you have when he finds out you have someone waiting for you at home? He’ll let go.

  The voice of reason was like a bucket of ice water poured over her head, and she attempted to pull away from him, knowing she couldn’t allow it to continue. The sensation was intoxicating and probably addicting. There was no room in her life for the complications that came with Joseph Hazelle.

  “Stop. Please,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his, sharing his breath. “I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “My life is already complicated enough. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me,” he murmured, catching her lower lip between his teeth and tugging.

  “No.” She shook her head and was surprised when he gazed at her and finally nodded.

  “You are a conundrum, Bunny Carrigan, I’ll grant you that much.”

  “Is that a fancy way of saying I’m a bitch?” she asked, making light of the lingering tension in the compact interior of the sports car. She knew perfectly well what a conundrum was, but he needed to understand she wanted a less complicated existence where she wasn’t constantly matching wits. Needed it. She’d already had enough arguing, head games, and violence to last a lifetime.

  One side of his lips curved up in a halfhearted smile. “You know better than that, but you are a puzzle. Your apology, although sincere, was unsatisfying. I’ll let you off this once. Once. And I’ll take you wherever you want to go, but I’d rather not leave you to fend for yourself in the dark.”

  “It’s a short walk from there.”

  “Then you won’t mind if I take you straight to your house. On the way, I have another issue to talk to you about.”

  “Heck, what now?”

  * * * *

  “I had to go and ask what he needed,” Bunny muttered the following Monday as she pulled up in front of Hazelle House in her work truck. Her pride and joy, bought at auction with the money she’d saved. So what if it had one hundred thousand miles on it.

  Joseph had dropped her off in front of her house Saturday night, and she’d denied feeling embarrassed about the neighborhood. It wasn’t that bad, but compared to what he was used to, it’d probably looked like a shack. That wasn’t very nice, she knew. He’d never given her the impression he was a snob. It was her problem, not his.

  She banged on the long toolbox with her gloved fist as she turned the key, and it popped open like a charm. The galvanized steel tower she’d be working on was situated near one corner of the mansion, where it was out of sight, and near the top of it was the Internet antenna for Hazelle House.

  After getting into her climbing gear, she was halfway up the tower when she heard a male voice hollering at her.

  “What in the hell are you doing up there?”

  She looked down at Joseph, and the expression on his face was priceless. She giggled and shouted, “I should charge you extra for bothering me when I’m climbing! What do you need?”

  Joseph’s eyes were big as saucers as he gaped at her, and then he hollered, “I need you to get your ass down here this minute!”

  “No! I’m not done!” she shouted, projecting so he’d hear her over the wind shifting the structure so it swayed back and forth ever so slightly. “I’ll come find you when I’m done!”

  “Get the fuck down here right now, Bunny!”

  She shook her head at him, which whipped her long red braid around her shoulders, and went back to climbing. “You want Internet?” she yelled, not caring if he heard her. She already knew what he’d say when she got down there.

  “Yes, but a woman has no business climbing that monstrosity!”

  Holding on with one hand, and with her harness hooked safely onto the tower, she angled out at him to make sure he’d see, and then she shot him the finger. “That was a very sexist remark, Sir! See you in a bit—after this little girlie fixes your Internet,” she said as she went back to climbing. She had only another twenty feet to go to reach the antenna. “First, he wants his Internet fixed. Then he says I should get down. But he wants his Internet fixed. Make up your mind, jackass.”

  “I heard that!”

  She gave him a big grin and waved, and he looked as if he was about to have a heart attack. “Put your hand back on the rung! You and I are having a discussion when you come down!”

  “I can’t wait! Now run along, big bad Dom, so I can get finished before overtime kicks in!”


  He put his hand to his head as if he had a headache while he stomped away, and she felt a little guilty. Some people had a really hard time with heights, and lots of people didn’t understand how she could climb a tower without freaking out. Heights didn’t bother her. Now, spiders and snakes? Those were scary. Heights? No biggie. That didn’t mean she was stupid. She always climbed with safety gear and only under safe conditions. She didn’t have a death wish. She just appreciated the view…and the quiet.

  Glancing back at him, she grimaced a little. It was obvious he hadn’t expected her to climb the tower herself. The bucket truck was good up to a certain point, and then she was better off climbing because the bucket swayed worse in the wind than a tower did. In this particular instance, though, it just wasn’t tall enough.

  Reaching the antenna, she set about testing the connections. Once she was finished fixing the minor issue, she paused to enjoy the view while she drank from the water bottle clamped to her belt. Sweat soaked her tank top and the cotton shirt she had on over it, and she shrugged, stretching the muscles in her shoulders. Working with her arms over her head sometimes gave her a muscle cramp.

  The terrain surrounding the mansion was a beautiful mix of oak-tree green and the gray and brown of the natural stone. It had rained the night before, and the sky was crystal clear with visibility for miles. The mansion wasn’t visible from any roads or nearby vantage points. The only way someone saw the place was either from the air, or if they got past the security gate at the entrance. She’d asked about it the first time she’d been sent out by Grogan Home Theater and Communications for a service call, and Joseph had explained that he’d situated the house that way intentionally, for maximum privacy. She’d discovered recently why he wanted to provide that much privacy when she’d come out on an emergency service call for his in-house sound system. She’d never seen that many naked people all in one place at one time, ever.