Blazing Hearts: Books 1-3 (9 page)

J
ake ushered
Teresa into his house and straight to the extra bedroom. He thrust open the closet doors and began yanking out the various toys that adorned the walls. She gasped and backed up as he held the riding crop firmly in his grasp.

“Are you going to punish me?” she asked, her voice meek, her eyes wide.

He looked to the crop and then her. “Oh, fuck. No!”

He tossed the crop down and stepped away from her and it. “Teresa, I would never, ever spank you when I’m angry.”

She looked confused. “Then what are you doing?”

“Gettin’ rid of everything. You don’t want this lifestyle and I want you, so it’s gone.” He returned to ripping things out of the closet.

She tapped his shoulder lightly and he faced her. She surprised him by going to her tiptoes and kissing him passionately. She held tight to him. “Jake, I do want this. I want what you offer me.”

He shook his head, feeling every bit the deviant pervert he knew himself to be. He hated himself. Hated that his needs had driven her away to start with. “I push too far. I pushed you away before with all this and I heard you. I heard about Hale.” Fire burned deep in him. “If he sets foot here in Middlefield, I’ll tear him to bits. No lie.”

She touched his cheek. “
Shh
, I know. I know you’ll protect me, and I trust you, Jake. I trust you won’t hurt me.”

“I
have
hurt you.” His hand skimmed her breast. He knew she was tender there still.

“That was hurt I wanted and I inflicted on myself, remember?” she reminded. “Hurt I begged for and hurt I got off on.”

“I’m not a good person,” he argued.

T
eresa couldn’t take
it anymore. Much to her surprise, she hauled off and slapped him across the face.

He blinked in surprise.

She pointed at him. “I love you, dammit. I’m not going anywhere. I want you. All of you. The good, the bad and the kinky.”

His lip twitched. He glanced around the room. “I made a mess.”

“Yeah, you did.”

He held up a finger. “Wait here. Don’t move.”

Her hand went to her hip and she gave him the stink-eye as he bolted out of the extra room and into the master bedroom. He returned within seconds, looking relieved to see she’d not run off.

He approached and pushed two floggers out of the way before kneeling before her. When he held up a tiny black box, her breath caught. He opened it, showing her the diamond ring inside. “Bought this for you years ago—kept it ever since. Teresa, will you do me the honor of marryin’ me. I know I’m no real prize, but I promise to love you for the rest of our lives.”

She teared up and bent with him, her hands moving over the box. She nodded. “Yes. Yes! Yes!” She stilled and then pushed his shoulder, making him lose his balance and fall to his side. “You are too a prize, jerk.”

He laughed. “Hey, who exactly is the Dominant here?”

“Time will tell,” she replied, making him smile wider before he grabbed her and pulled her on top of him. His lips found hers and she knew they’d weather the storm and make it out on the other side—together.

K
aleb is
a notorious lady’s man. He’s walking sex and not afraid to brag about the fact. Hell, he’d put it on a t-shirt if he bothered keeping one on long enough for anyone to read it. He’s used to getting who and what he wants. When he finds himself face–to-face with a spitfire of a challenge—his first love who is back in town, waiting tables at his favorite watering hole—everything changes. Hotter than a platter full of sin at a church picnic, Erica has him tied in knots, and if he plays his cards right, he’ll have her tied to his bed soon enough.

K
aleb Smith walked
with a purpose into
The Drink
—a favorite roadside watering hole of his for years. The red on the door was worn from age, use and weather. It was clear to see where most pressed to enter. There was nearly no paint left there. Kaleb had done his fair share of entering over the years. More than he cared to admit. He wasn’t exactly proud of his sexual appetites so much as he’d come to terms with them long ago.

He strutted in as if he owned the place. He knew he looked like a man on the prowl because he was. It had been too long between bed partners and his cock was heavy with want. There was only so much jacking off a guy could do before nothing but a wet, tight pussy would do. He’d reached that point.

His cowboy boots clicked on the worn hardwood floor, announcing his arrival. Varying antique pieces of farm equipment adorned the walls of the roadside bar. It was supposed to be art of some sort. It looked like clutter to him, but what did he know? He was hardly what one would call refined. And he’d once heard some Yankee offer up big bucks to purchase an antique right off the wall. He and the other locals grinned, knowing there were at least a half dozen more where that piece had come from, just lying out in the field behind the bar, free for the picking.

Hell, there were three local businesses that made their money by picking through old broken furniture, slapping obnoxious colors of paint on them—such as turquoise or bright-ass pink—then selling them, barely functioning, for high dollar.

Northerners. Quick to throw good money at junk.

Rows of tall tables dotted the right side of the establishment. Each had patrons at them, making the bar full, as it normally was in the evening and at night. A vintage jukebox was tucked safely back behind them. The dance floor area was extra worn, a sign of getting its use over the years. Kaleb had done his fair share of cutting a rug on that very floor. Dancing was a lot like sex.

All in the hips and how you carried yourself.

There was a stage off to the back left and often local bands played to entertain the patrons. Tonight the only music filling the joint was coming from the jukebox and was about as country as you could get without plucking an actual banjo.

Kaleb cringed. He liked newer country songs and classic rock. He wasn’t much into the golden days of country—a source of contention between him and many of his friends. He’d put an end to the song playing soon enough. For now he wanted a drink and a piece of arm candy to keep him entertained as he unwound from a busy week. Maybe he’d get lucky and the arm candy he’d find would work for a fuck.

He ran a hand through his tousled dark hair and glanced around, surveying the scene, looking for his next bed partner.

Normally he managed to have a lovely lady, or two, in his bed nightly. He always practiced safe sex and was vigilant about keeping up on blood tests. One could never be too careful nowadays. Not with the crazy sex floating around out there.

The Drink
was just far enough out of Middlefield that he didn’t have to worry about running into the ladies he romanced while he was home. He liked clean breaks and wasn’t much into more than a night or two of passion. Besides, he hadn’t met a woman yet who could handle all his baggage and sexual needs. Most got a small taste and couldn’t deal.

A set of blonde twins were near the jukebox, eyeing him over. They looked familiar, and if he was right, he’d fucked them both before—separately and together. His dick didn’t stir and that was a sure sign their last encounter hadn’t been anything special.

He tipped his Shady Brady in their direction and continued towards the bar. A drink was in order. If things didn’t pick up soon at the bar he’d head out to
Club K
and see what was going on there, but if memory served they were having some sort of theme night and he wasn’t about to show up in jeans and a t-shirt on theme night. Besides, checking the newsletter and the bulletin board was best when it came to Club K. He didn’t want to walk in
again
on pony-play night.

Damn. He’d never get the sight of some of that out of his head. And he might be a kinky fuck, but he drew the line at some things—being saddled and having a bit in his mouth was one of them.

Club K
was one of several underground clubs within driving distance that boasted hot sex and kinky play—exactly what the K stood for. He was more in the mood for a vanilla fuck tonight so
The Drink
would do just fine, assuming he found a woman who turned him on. More and more it happened less and less—as if his attention couldn’t be held by the same old same old.

He walked with confidence past a group of five guys all huddled together, drinking their beers. They were checking out a table full of women and didn’t appear too pleased with Kaleb’s arrival. It was all too common for Kaleb to run into issues when out and about, especially when traveling solo, like tonight. He wasn’t a small guy. He prided himself on his body and took good care of it. He worked out nearly daily and watched what he ate. He tended to look much bulkier muscle-wise than almost all the men around him. He didn’t mind.

He was used to it.

Plus, it was part of his job and his business as a fitness club owner. For some reason his appearance often brought out the worst in other men—men he didn’t know. They either worried he’d steal their women or they wanted to try to prove something by trying to kick his ass. Never ended as they planned. He wasn’t just bronze. He had the skills needed to protect himself. And if tonight was like other nights that included a group of guys on the hunt for snatch, he’d have to show off those skills.

He sighed. He just wanted sex. Not a fight.

K
aleb approached the bar
. A sexy number with a backside he wanted to cup with his hand stood behind the counter. As she reached for a bottle of whiskey, her fitted red t-shirt drew up, showing off her smooth, creamy skin. His dick responded. Her long auburn hair was pulled up in a ponytail and she looked like she took care of herself, but without going overboard. He didn’t like his women hard. He liked them soft, as a woman should be.

She turned to face him and his breath caught. He knew her. It had been years since he’d last seen her, but dammit, he’d know those emerald green eyes anywhere. His hand automatically went to his upper left pec. He rubbed the area, already knowing there was one of two sparrows tattooed there. One he’d had done to remember the woman before him. A woman he hadn’t thought he’d ever see again. “Erica?”

A half smile touched her full lips. “Kaleb.”

Her accent was nearly gone, reminding him how long she’d been away from Middlefield. She’d changed, but in good ways—which he didn’t even think was possible since she’d been a knockout to start with. His dick hardened at remembered memories of their time together. She’d been his first. Well, first that he’d willingly given himself over to. His past hadn’t been pretty and it was why he’d ended up a Garnes’ Ranch boy. It was a part of himself he didn’t like dwelling on.

Being pimped out by someone who gave birth to you wasn’t something anyone wanted to focus on.

Erica had known all his dirty truths. Every horror he’d lived through as a child. Things he’d refused to tell his counselors. Things even Garnes didn’t know. Erica had been a shoulder to cry on—something Kaleb hated doing. And since Erica, he’d never done again. Every emotion he’d ever had for her came rushing back, reminding him he was capable of human feelings, of more than lust.

She set down the towel in her hand and touched his hand gently. “Good to see you.”

“How long have you been back?” he asked, wondering why she’d not come straight to him. It wasn’t as if he was hard to find or that he’d gone far from town. He’d had plenty of chances to make a new life for himself somewhere else but he never had.

“Five months,” she replied, something off in her voice.

Five months? She’d been back five fucking months and hadn’t bothered to look him up? He shook his head. “Erica?”

She sighed and lowered her head. “I saw you when I first got back. I was in my car; you were standing near your truck.” She looked up, her green gaze locking on him. “Parked behind
The Fine Dutch
bar, fucking the living hell out of some blonde. I didn’t want to bother you.”

His gut clenched. She knew the truth about him. That he was a manwhore now. Just what most people called him behind his back. He tried to put his hand over hers but she pulled away.

They’d been young—sweet sixteen. The sex, looking back on it, had been about as vanilla as you could get, but it had branded him, forever cementing her in his mind and his heart. When her family had up and moved to Detroit because her father had gotten a job with one of the big three auto manufactures, he’d been devastated. They’d written to each other a lot and even emailed often, but after six months, the letters and emails slowed. After a year, they stopped. He moved on with his life and so did she.

“You’re back for good?” he asked, his throat tight. He was off his game around her. Always had been. Didn’t help that she was even better looking than he imagined she’d grow up to be.

“What do you want to drink, Kaleb?” she asked, her voice short.

“I’d like to talk with you.”

She snorted. “Not much to talk about. I was gone. Now I’m back.”

Damn, she was even sexier with her stubborn redheaded side showing through. He wanted to drag her onto the bar top, inch her shirt up and find out if her nipples were as light pink as he was imagining them to be. His mouth watered at the idea of sucking a pebble-like berry between his teeth while he cupped her tits in his hands. Damn her for being so sexy and so spirited. It just made her appeal to him all the more.

The Drink’s
owner, John McCutcheon, strolled up along the backside of the bar, near Erica. John had been a Garnes’ Ranch boy when he was younger. They all shared a bond and a brotherly code of sorts. With an incline of his head, John said a hundred things. Mostly,
good to see you, brother
. Secondly, his gaze went to the group of men. Kaleb knew what that meant.

Possible trouble.

“Erica, no biting the patrons,” teased John with a sugary-sweet smile, something that was hard for the former Special Operative to pull off.

Erica huffed, her green eyes ablaze with a challenge. “I only bit the one guy because he grabbed my breast.”

Jealousy and rage filled Kaleb. No man was to touch her. No man but him. He clenched his fists. “Who? Where?”

John put his hands on the bar top. “Take it easy, slugger. She bit the crap out of him and then I
kicked
the shit out of him. He’s not here, nor is he comin’ back if he knows what’s good for him.”

Erica’s hand shot out and the next thing Kaleb knew it was on his forearm. “Thank you for taking offense for me, but I had it covered.”

He stared at her hand as if it was a hot brand on his skin. His cock pushed at his zipper, begging to be free. He gritted his teeth and had to draw his arm away from her touch. It was that or actually toss her on the bar top and lift her shirt to get a peek at those glorious tits of hers.

“Anyway, thanks.” Shrugging, she returned to work as if he wasn’t even there.

With a bruised ego, he locked gazes with John. “You should have called and told me she was back.”

“Why? So you could rush here and get shot down sooner?” John questioned. He leaned in closer, his sandy-blond hair covering one blue eye. “She’s workin’ for half pay in exchange for that efficiency apartment above the back buildin’.”

“You already pay crap. You cut that in half?”

John cuffed Kaleb’s ear. “Asshole, I tried to pay her full and offered her the room when I heard she was staying at that dive motel out on Route 6. She wouldn’t hear of takin’ somethin’ for nothin’. And I pay my staff just fine.”

“I’m not givin’ up on her,” Kaleb said with a cocksure smile.

John snorted. “Didn’t expect you would. Figured had she never moved off you’d have married her. Guessing you’ll still try.”

Marriage? Kaleb stiffened. He wouldn’t go that far. Sure, he’d thought about her a lot over the years and missed her, but marriage? No. That seemed like too much of a commitment.

John laughed. “Your days of mindless fucks is drawin’ to an end, Kaleb.”

He almost denied the words, but realized John might be right. Now that Erica was home, everything was different.

Erica returned.

Kaleb tipped his head. “Talk to me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Go away.”

“Agree to talk me and I’ll think about it.”

John laughed more as Erica gave Kaleb the finger. She headed off to help another customer. Kaleb rounded on his friend. “Yep. She’s the woman for me.”

“Because she doesn’t want you anymore?” John asked, still laughing.

“She wants me. She just hasn’t admitted it out loud yet,” Kaleb said. “She will. Eventually.”

“Before or
after
the restraining order she’ll be takin’ out on your sorry ass?” John asked with an amused grunt.

Kaleb eyed Erica from afar. He caught her checking on him out of the corner of her eye. He noticed the extra sway of her hips that started the second she knew he was watching. Oh yeah, she wanted him. And he sure the hell wanted her. If she wanted to play hard to get, he’d play along. Besides, there was plenty of snatch hanging around the bar to keep him occupied until Erica decided to admit she wanted to go to bed with him again.