by Sophie Oak
How was he going to keep his hands off her?
Minutes later, the limo rolled to a stop right on the tarmac.
“Wow, a private jet?” Her eyes were wide as she looked at his father’s corporate jet.
He helped her out of the limo.
Nate was shaking his head. “The rich are different, girl.”
Such a hypocrite. “You flew in corporate jets most of your life, asshole.”
Nate winked and tipped his Stetson. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just a country sheriff.” He disappeared up the steps.
Jen turned and stared at him for a moment. She bit at her bottom lip, tugging it into her mouth. “Stef, this is a bad idea. We don’t work. You know we don’t.”
He stood there, unable to confirm or deny the allegation. He didn’t want to do either because that would mean making a decision, and he wasn’t ready for that.
She came in close and went up on her toes. “But I want you to know that I’m grateful you came for me. Though I wish you hadn’t brought in the European spies. Still, it’s the nicest thing anyone ever did.”
She kissed his cheek, her lips warm on his cold skin. Then she turned and managed the stairs into the jet.
He reached for the keys to the handcuffs as he followed her. He had no intention of leaving her that way. She wouldn’t go back to Bliss in cuffs, although no one would question it there. Bliss was different from Dallas. It was why he’d dug it at a young age. He turned and looked at the city he was born in. It wasn’t home anymore and hadn’t been for a long time. It was simply a place where his father summoned him from time to time. It was a prison to do time in until he could get back to his real life.
The pilot was waiting at the top of the steps.
“Mr. Talbot, if you’ll take your seat, we’ll be ready to go in a few moments now that all four passengers are aboard. Mindy will be our flight attendant. I believe she’s already getting your father his drink. Please let her know if you need anything at all. We’ll set down in Alamosa at roughly noon Mountain Time.”
Stef felt his whole body start to sink into the floor. He ducked into the jet, his mind racing.
Please, no. Let it be a case of mistaken identity. Please, let it be some executive who’s catching a ride. Not my father.
He couldn’t handle his uptight father right now. He didn’t need another lecture on fulfilling his family duties. He didn’t have Callie with him to act as a buffer. Crap. He didn’t have Callie anymore. The ramifications hit him suddenly. Callie was married. She probably wouldn’t be able to play the role of his longtime girlfriend to keep his father off his back.
Or would she? Stef had bankrolled Zane’s bar. Hell, he was the whole reason those three had gotten together in the first place. They owed him. It wasn’t like he was taking her away. He would merely borrow her from time to time to placate his father. That shouldn’t bother anyone. Callie had been doing it for years. His father believed he’d stayed in Bliss because he was deeply in love with Callie Sheppard. He would probably be upset to find out she was now Callie Hollister-Wright.
But it would be okay, because it wasn’t his elegant father, who had a perpetual stick up his aristocratic ass. The pilot was misinformed.
“Hello, son.”
His father sat across from Nate, a broad smile on his face. He wore a sweater and jeans instead of his usual three-piece suit. Sebastian Talbot looked older, softer than Stef had ever seen him. He wore his hair short, and it was gray. His father had always had a stylist darken his hair.
“Dad.”
Jennifer’s whole face was lit with glee. She held her hands out. No one could possibly miss those shiny cuffs. Nate was back to texting furiously. For a badass ex-DEA agent, he’d become a terrible gossip.
“I was telling your father all about how you kidnapped me and how you’re a righteous pervert,” Jen explained.
His dad shook a finger at him. “And I told her that wasn’t how I’d raised you.”
“You didn’t raise me.” It was true. His father had left him behind in Bliss to be raised by a nanny. Although now that he thought about it, he’d really been raised by Bliss. Mrs. Harper had let him spend night after night at her house. Callie’s mom had taken him shopping and taught him to drive. And Stella, well, Stella had been his mom in every way that counted.
Sebastian shrugged. “Well, I’m sure I left a note for your nanny. One always believes that not allowing your child to turn into a righteous pervert is implied. It can be hard to find good help.”
“What are you doing here, Dad?” Stef uncuffed Jen and gently showed her to a seat.
His father leaned forward, his face serious. “I’ve come with a request, son.”
“And you couldn’t e-mail me? My cell works. How did you even know I would be here?”
“I had to approve the request for the jet.” Familiar gray eyes assessed Stef. “I knew this might be the only time I got to see you. You’ve been busy the last few times I asked you to come back to Dallas.”
“I have several projects due.” It was true. He had a couple of commissioned works he needed to finish. He didn’t bother to mention he hadn’t worked on them because he couldn’t get Jennifer out of his brain. “I apologize, but I couldn’t get away. Now, please hurry and tell me what you want. The plane is about to take off.”
“I’ve got cancer, Stefan. Prostate cancer. I’ve been in chemo and radiation, and I’m in remission now, but it could come back. I’ve come to beg you to marry Callie. I want to see you settled and happy before anything happens to me.”
Nate stopped texting, his phone falling to the floor and his mouth hanging open. “What did he say?”
Stef felt his world spin. His father had cancer. His father had gone through therapy, and he hadn’t been there. Of course, his father hadn’t asked him to be there, hadn’t even told him he was sick, but it didn’t matter. Guilt gnawed at his gut.
He had another problem. Shit. His father wanted him to marry Callie. Nate and Zane might have a problem with that.
“And I’m not getting off the plane, son,” his father said, settling back in his seat. “I’m coming to Bliss with you and I’m not leaving until I get what I want.”
The plane started to taxi down the runway. Stef felt like he was trapped inside a coffin. Everything was coming unraveled. His well-ordered world was coming back to bite him in the ass. His father had been sick and could be again. Nate glared at him, obviously waiting for an answer. His father, who had lost his damn mind, leaned over and patted his hand.
Jen let loose with a long, robust laugh. “God, I missed Bliss.”
Stef felt his stomach turn as the plane took off. He gave Nate a shake of his head. Nate frowned, and Stef was grateful when he sat back, willing to leave this argument for a more private time. He looked out the window and watched Dallas fall away as the jet climbed. His mind wandered back to that night with Jen. That was when it had all started to whirl out of control.
If only he could change it all.
Chapter Three
Six months before
Stef walked into the Bliss County Sheriff’s Office with blood on his hands. He gripped the shotgun he held like an old friend. Despite the fact that the threat seemed to be over, he couldn’t come down. He felt the adrenaline racing through his system. It made him ragged and jittery.
“Hey, Stef, you got the keys?” Max, one of his best friends, ran to catch up to him. They had driven back together, he, Max, and Max’s twin, Rye. Each had been silent in the car, as though they all had to take in what had happened.
Stef reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys Nate had given to him before he’d been loaded into the ambulance to go to the hospital. Stef had replayed the whole scene in his head a hundred times. A pair of rogue DEA agents had taken Callie hostage and offered to trade her for Zane, who had information that would lead them to millions of dollars’ worth of drug money. No one had been willing to give up Zane except Zane. Na
te had set up a plan to take out the agents. It had gone well until one of the bastards had captured Nate. Stef had thought he held the ace when he caught the man’s partner and offered an exchange. The bastard had simply shot his partner between the eyes and held on to Nate.
He’d had a hand on the man when he died. Leander. He thought that was the man’s name. It was all a jumble, but the blood was clear. It clung to his hands. The image was burned in his brain. The DEA agents were dead. Mel and Nate had been shot. Callie was worse for the wear. His sweet, pacifist friend had been forced to kill a man to save her loves, Nate and Zane.
Everyone he loved was alive, but he was still shaking inside.
“Max! Where is Rye? Oh, god, where’s Rye?” Rachel’s shout broke through his dark thoughts, the panic in her voice ringing through the stationhouse.
Rye pushed him aside as he ran toward his brother and their wife. “I’m fine, baby. I’m fine. We’re all fine.”
Stef stood in the doorway, watching as Max opened the cell he’d placed his pregnant wife in to ensure her safety. He himself had shoved Jennifer in with Rachel. She had no place walking into an ambush with a shotgun, and he didn’t trust her not to follow him. She was as stubborn as the day was long, and she loved Callie.
Max and Rye surrounded their wife. They hugged her and kissed her, whispering words of comfort to her. Their hands found her belly and rested on the child growing there.
“Where are the sheriff and Zane and Callie?” Laura Niles stood tall on her formidable heels as he stared at the cell. Jennifer was inside, watching him with hooded eyes. He could still remember the way she’d cursed him as he locked her inside.
He spoke to Laura, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Jennifer. “Hospital. Mel’s with them. No one is critical. Nate was shot, but it was in his shoulder. He doesn’t want anyone visiting until tomorrow.”
Stella patted his back as she walked past. “I’ll head down anyway. Someone will have to sit with Mel. And maybe translate for him. He has a theory about the aliens taking over pharmaceutical companies. It could go really poorly for those doctors. I don’t know why they call drugs those silly names.”
Laura hurried after Stella. “I’ll keep you company, Stella.”
Marie and Teeny had been left behind, too. They were one of Bliss’s oldest couples and ran the Trading Post together. Nate’s deputy, Logan, called them both Mom. After Max assured them Logan was all right and was simply handling the paperwork with the feds, they decided to stay on and man the station so the men could get some rest.
Rest. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to do that. A weird, angry energy thrummed through his veins. He wanted to hit something—or fuck someone. Not someone. Jennifer. Sinking himself into Jennifer’s soft body would take away the pain.
He shook off the thought. He couldn’t use her like that. It would mean something to her. Hell, it would mean something to him, and neither one of them was ready for that. She was too damn young, far too impetuous. Tonight had certainly proven that.
“Come on, Jennifer. I’ll take you home.” He owed her that, at least. She was so beautiful, even with mascara staining her cheeks. She took a hand wipe from Teeny and washed off her face. He would have to stay away from her. He couldn’t ask Max or Rye to take her home. He had to do it himself, but he needed to keep his distance or he would make a mistake they would both regret. He could feel it.
“Fuck you, Stef.” She shoved her way past him.
Volcanic rage threatened to overtake him. It wasn’t about her, but she was going to take the brunt unless she stopped pushing him. Hell, she’d been pushing him for a year and a half, ever since she waltzed into Bliss and declared she’d come to learn from him. She’d wanted him to teach her his techniques.
Stef didn’t teach. Not art at least. Now the finer points of Dominance and submission, that was another story. The Dom in him responded to her lack of respect. He followed her as she strode out of the building.
The early autumn air was already taking on a distinct chill at night, but it did nothing to cool Stef’s blood. Watching her walk away spurred his instincts to track her down. She strode quickly, as though she knew the danger she was in. He followed, blood pounding through his system. His thinking brain kept reasoning that he would simply follow her and make sure she got home all right.
But that dark, dirty part of him knew what this was—a hunt that would end with him taking her down.
He quickly opened the door to his Land Rover, stashed the shotgun, and resumed his pursuit. Her shoes clicked on the sidewalk as she passed the town hall and rushed across the street. He knew exactly where she was going. Her tiny apartment was over the diner. Stella had rented the little studio to her when she’d taken the waitressing job there. She turned the corner of the alley that led into the parking lot, and he jogged to catch up. He wouldn’t let her close the door on him.
She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned. Her slender body fairly vibrated with rage. “What are you doing?”
That was an awfully good question, and he didn’t have much of an answer. He came up with the safest one he could find. “Protecting you.”
She rolled those green eyes. In the moonlight her skin looked luminous. “From what? Max said all the bad guys are dead.”
He groped for an answer to that. “The bikers are still around. Until they know the hit is off Zane, they’ll still look for him.”
She walked straight up to him and shoved a finger into his chest. “Then go keep Zane safe. I don’t need your protection. I don’t want it, and I don’t want you.”
“Liar.” She’d always wanted him. She’d thrown herself at him. He hadn’t thought it was a good idea to catch her.
She shook her head. “Nope. After the stunt you pulled tonight, I have zero desire to have anything to do with you. As a matter of fact, I should thank your perverted ass. Thank you, Stef. Thank you for finally showing me what an asshole you are. It totally frees me up to find someone who can get it up around me.”
He actually saw red. It swam in front of his eyes like a mist, clouding everything, making the world seem a little unreal.
She obviously didn’t notice because she kept talking. “I think that tomorrow I’m going to do what Callie didn’t manage to do. I’m going to find myself some hot tourist and fuck the hell out of him. I’ve wasted a year and a half hoping you would actually see me. That’s not going to happen because you can’t fuck a woman who doesn’t kiss your feet. Can you, King Stefan?”
He tried to breathe deeply. “Stop. Jennifer, if you stop now, I might be able to walk away.”
“If there’s one thing I am sure of it’s your ability to walk away from me.” She turned on her heels. “Go back to your palace. I’m done with you.”
He reached out and grabbed her, hauling her back by her wrist. She stumbled, but he caught her.
“What are you doing?” She yelled the question as she tried to get her balance back.
He was done talking. Talking didn’t mean anything to her. He’d tried to explain. He’d tried to stay away. He’d tried to be her friend. She wouldn’t stop pushing. He planted his shoulder in her midsection and had her in a fireman’s hold before she could move.
Her hands beat on his back. He welcomed the sensation.
“Put me down, you jackass!”
He climbed the stairs toward her apartment with no thought but getting her inside and showing her just how fast he could get it up around her. He could handle the accusation that he was an asshole. That was a simple, documented fact. But he was always hard around her. Fuck, half the time he couldn’t breathe when she was around. And he knew he couldn’t think. How could he be expected to when all the blood in his body shifted to his cock the minute she walked in a room?
He reached out for the door. It opened without the need of a key.
“Damn it, Jennifer. Anyone could walk in here.”
“Yeah, I’m getting that now.” She pounded on his back. She tried kicking he
r legs, but he had a good hold on those. “Let me down.”
He set her on her feet and shut the door. He had her in a neat cage now. She wouldn’t be able to get away from him. She stumbled, trying to put some distance between them.
“Get out.”
He looked around and quickly found what he needed. She had a pile of folded laundry in a hamper on a table in the small kitchen area. Delicates. He selected a tiny pink thong. It would look lovely between the cheeks of her ass. He had another use in mind.
“OMG, you are such a perv,” she ranted on. “You’re going to steal my panties? You ignore me for over a year, and then you steal my undies?”
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” He heard his Dom voice turn on. It was low and seemed to come from a place deep inside his chest. It felt good to lose control, like a drug running through his system, lighting up his every nerve.
She finally stopped, and her eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”
Good girl. She was finally getting it. That little hint of fear in her eyes hardened his already rock-hard cock to painful proportions. If he didn’t get out of his pants soon, they might split on him. “Give me your hands so I can tie you up.”
There it was, that hitch in her breath that had nothing to do with fear. Despite it, she shook her head. “No. No, Stef. That’s a bad idea.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “But it’s going to happen. Easy way or hard way, Jennifer. It’s your choice.”
Her throat moved up and down as she swallowed. Her eyes darted around the room, and her chest heaved. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them the fear was gone, replaced with a glint of challenge. “Oh, I think it’s going to be very hard, Master Stefan.”
He’d always known she would be fun to play with, but he wasn’t playing now. This was serious. “Safe word. Pick one now.”
She didn’t prevaricate or pretend to misunderstand. She spat out her chosen word as though she’d always had it in her back pocket, just waiting to use. “Impressionist.”
