Harper's Little Spitfire (Harper's Series) (30 page)

Swallowing the moan, she turned her head away. Logan’s lips trailed from below her ear to the top of her neck. Her hands fisted in the shirt she wore, knowing if she touched him, she’d be all over him.

His hands slid down the side of her, bunching the shirt at her thighs. His fingers traced circles at the seam of the shirt, sending shocks of pleasure through her system.

Logan groaned into her neck as his own hands tightened on the bottom of the shirt.

“No playing till we get home,” Zeb’s voice echoed through the haze of desire.

Logan pulled away from her and glared at Zeb. “I can play all I want,” he growled. Logan immediately spun around and lifted her. Automatically wrapping her legs around his waist, Logan walked them towards the bench closest to Zeb. Sitting her down on top, his hands roamed from her knees up to her thighs. Shifting slightly, her legs fell apart, wanting him higher.

“I need more,” Caleb’s voice slurred from the sofa.

Frowning, she glanced over Logan’s shoulder and gasped. “What does he need more of?” she questioned.

“More booze,” Logan said as he ground into her. Pushing the desire away, she pushed against Logan’s chest, jumped off the bench and started to walk into the lounge room, only to be stopped by a strong arm wrapping around her waist and being pulled back into a strong hard chest.

“Why does he want more booze? It’s way too early to be drinking.” She spun around in his grip and crossed her arms over her chest, which pulled the shirt further up her thighs. “Did you guys have a fight?”

Logan’s eye were glued to her exposed thighs. Clicking her fingers in front of his eyes till he looked at her, she raised her eyebrows, waiting for a response.

“Let’s have a little play time before we head out. Don’t worry about him; he’ll be fine,” Logan said. Licking his lips and stepping towards her, his eyes went back down to her bare legs.

She stepped back away from him, placing her hands on her hips. “How can you say that? I worry about all of you,” she hissed. She cared for all of them. Even after what Mac had done, she still cared. They all held a place in her heart. However, the three right here now with her were more than Mac.

Logan groaned. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked into her eyes. “We know you do, spitfire. And we care about you as well. Caleb’s just in a little bit of pain, hence the reason he needs more booze.”

“What? What happened?” She spun around and stomped towards where he sat on the sofa.

Both Zeb and Logan beat her to him and stood in front of her, stopping her from reaching him.

“What did you do to him?” she growled. She tried moving past them, but it was like hitting a damn brick wall with the two of them. Huffing out a breath, she glared at both of them as they stood there.

Caleb groaned on the sofa behind them. Logan looked over his shoulder, breaking his eyes from her, as did Zeb. She pushed her way past them and stopped in front of Caleb. Glancing over him, there were no visible markings on his face or on any of the skin that was showing.

She knelt down at his feet. He had the blanket pulled up over his chest, and she noticed he was leaning more to his left side them the other. She shifted closer to him and reached for the blanket to pull it down to check him out, but his hand shot out and gripped her wrist.

“Spitfire, if you touch me anywhere right now, you will end up on your back with me deep inside of you. So unless you want that, stop touching,” Caleb grit out.

She could see the pain that covered his face. It wasn’t from the fact that he wanted her; it was from actually being in pain.

She went to grab the blanket again, but Caleb shot out of the seat, knocking her to the ground. She gasped as her eyes found why he was drinking so early. “What the hell happened?” she whispered her eyes glued to his side. Logan shot forward and knelt down beside her, but she never took her eyes from Caleb.

His whole left side was covered in a nasty looking bruise. Black in the centre over his ribs, then purplish/yellow around the outer part. His right hand flattened against his chest as his breathing increased.

She stood up on shaky legs and walked up to him. “How did that happen? It wasn’t there last night; I would have noticed it straight away.”

Caleb staggered away from her and into the kitchen. She heard the cupboards slam shut several times, and then he was stumbling back into the room. He caught himself on the wall as his legs didn’t agree with his movements. Zeb shifted towards him, trying to help him out.

Caleb pushed him away. “I don’t need your help.” Shaking his head, Zeb moved away from Caleb and headed back into the kitchen. She watched on as Caleb removed the lid from the bottle in his hand and gulped down several mouthfuls. She watched as the liquid slid from the bottle down his throat.

He kept swallowing; he was down at least a quarter of it, and he wasn’t going to let up. She shot forward and pulled the bottle away from him before he could drink any more. He growled at her, trying to grab the bottle.

“Don’t you dare growl at me, Caleb Harper. You’ve had plenty,” she reprimanded, then turned around and headed for the kitchen.

Opening the cupboard above the sink, she placed the bottle back there and spun around. Caleb stood fuming, glared at her.

“That was mine,” he grit out with a slur.

“I don’t care if it was yours. You don’t need anymore. You’re drunk enough as it is, Caleb.”

“Not drunk enough,” he mumbled. His face relaxed as he looked over her from head to toe. Taking a step at a time, he stalked her.
Oh, shit!
She had a drunk, horny Caleb heading her way. And damn if it didn’t turn her on.

She moved to the left to get out of his path, but he moved quickly, and his arm shot out, catching her around the waist. Her breathing accelerated as Caleb’s fingers stroked over her lower stomach. His breath lingered near her neck and she felt the evidence of his arousal grinding into her ass. His hand tightened on her, pushing himself harder against her.

“Wanna play, spitfire? I can spread those gorgeous legs of yours and taste you. Just the thought is making me hungry. Or I can throw you over the sofa and fuck you from behind. Would you prefer that, spitfire?”

Holy Shit!
Her insides clenched his words. She wanted it all. But she pushed her hormones down and slid from his grip to face him. “I’m not sleeping with you while you’re drunk, Caleb.” She moved closer to Zeb.

“Who said anything about sleeping? All I was thinking about is fucking till we pass out. Come on, spitfire. Let’s have some fun.” He stumbled towards her but caught himself on the bench. She went to go to him, but Zeb gripped her arm.

She looked at Zeb, shaking his head at her; her eyes went back to Caleb. He was struggling to stand up right, his breathing shallow, obviously from the pain from moving too quickly.

Closing her eyes, she counted to ten and reopened them. Caleb gripped the bench, not once taking his eyes from her.

“I’m not playing with you while you’re drunk and in pain.”

“I’m not that drunk, spitfire,” Caleb said and stood taller, trying extremely hard to hide the fact that he was.

“Sorry, not happening.”

“Of course you would have to say no and ruin my fun. How the hell am I going to get home with this constantly hard?” he said as his hand wrapped itself around the hard erection in his pants.

“Go in the bathroom and jerk off. You’re not getting anything from me till you sober up, Caleb.”

“You’re a joy kill joy, Sage. Why can’t you be like all the other women?” He shook his head at her. “Fine, be that way. I’ll find someone willing when we get home, then. Your loss,” he growled and stumbled out of the kitchen.

Her mouth fell open as she stared after him. It wasn’t the fact she wasn’t willing; she was ready to throw herself at him. She wanted him to remember what they did together, not count her as one of his drunken mistakes.

Then the rest of what he said hit her.
He was going to find someone else to fuck, because I didn’t put out!
Did he really think of her as just a fuck buddy? There was more between them than just that; well, she hoped there was. Holding the pain back from his words, she moved over towards the front door, needing some fresh air.

“Spitfire, you know he didn’t mean it,” Logan said calmly behind her.

Nodding her head, it was hard to take in what any of them meant sometimes. She didn’t like the fact that once he was home, he’d end up in someone else’s bed other than hers. It broke her heart, hearing it come from his mouth. Stepping outside on the veranda, she breathed in the fresh air, trying to calm herself.

It was hard to do. All she wanted was all of them, but something deep inside kept telling her differently. It was never going to end up the way she wanted.

She heard the door open. Glancing that way, she found Logan standing there. “We’ll be leaving in ten minutes.”

“Okay,” she whispered. Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she walked back to the door. Logan held it open for her and she walked inside, and then down to the bedroom.

Finding her folded bra and jeans on the dresser, she sat down and put them on. Pulling her hair into a ponytail, she grabbed her hat and moved back out into the lounge room. She sat down and waited for the rest of them to get ready. When they stood to the side of her, besides Caleb, she got up, pulled her boots on and followed them outside to get the horses ready to go.

Caleb sat on the quad, his back to her. Zeb jumped up on one of the horses, while Logan stood at her side.

“I need you to ride with Caleb. You’re the only one that will fit with him on it, unless you don’t want to.”

“I’ll ride with him.” Just what she needed.

Stomping over towards the quad, Caleb shifted back, allowing her to get on. Starting the motor, she gripped the handles and without waiting for the rest of them, she took off, not caring at this point if Caleb was holding on.

His grip never held onto her. Obviously using the back bar for leverage, she revved the engine and shot faster down the track. Screw him and the horse he rode on.

He kept his hands off her, never touching her once. She couldn’t wait to get off the damn thing and away from him. If he wanted to act like a damn child, so be it; she was prepared to do the same damn thing.

––––––––

T
he trip from the cabin back to the main house took longer than their journey out. The pain that erupted in Caleb’s side every time Sage hit a hole or a mound of dirt had him gritting his teeth and gripping onto the back bar.

His mind was a blur. He had no freakin’ idea why she was hitting everything possible, causing him pain. He had tried several times to reach out and grip onto her, but her growls towards him had him flinching away.
Damn!
Did he say or do something to hurt her? He hated seeing her like this.

As the main gate came into focus, she sped into the yard and skidded to a stop right in front of the barn. Immediately, Sage jumped off and stomped towards the house, leaving him there.

Zeb and Logan stopped beside him, both of them shaking their heads at him as they slid off the horses. Zeb took both of the horses into the stable as Logan helped him off the quad.

“What’s wrong with Sage?” Caleb asked, confused, while he walked slowly towards the door. He looked up and found his father standing there, looking at all three of them with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t look too happy by the way he was glaring at all of them.

As they started up the stairs, their father spoke, “So, which one of you pissed her off?”

Caleb glanced at Logan and Zeb. Both of them shook their heads and walked up the stairs, leaving him standing there with his father.
Well, that answered the question as to who!

“I had guessed it was you. You can never keep your mouth shut,” Markus reprimanded as he shifted in front of the door, not allowing him to enter. “What have you done this time?”

He went over in his mind anything possible that he would have said or done to upset Sage, but nothing jumped out right away. Images from last night flashed through his brain; he couldn’t hold back the grin that covered his lips as his father looked on.

He gripped the rail and hoisted himself up the stairs; his father scowled at him until he realised that he was holding his side.

“Did you boys get into a fight out there?” Markus asked, helping him the rest of the way up to the door.

“I wish,” he cringed at the pain.

“Where are you hurt?” Markus asked.

Resting against the wall near the front door, he lifted up his shirt so his father could see.

“Jesus Christ, Caleb. What the hell is that from?”

He let go of his shirt and straightened away from the wall. “Had to check the property last night. Some of the branches came close to falling on the roof but missed, thank God. This,” he indicated to his side, “is from checking over the cattle in the holding yard. I forgot all about Spawn being with them. He charged and threw me over the damn fence.”

He was shocked when he heard his father’s laughter boom across the veranda. Caleb looked over at him, and there he was, holding his stomach as he bent forward, laughing at him. Well shit.

“You think it’s funny? It wasn’t when he threw me over the bloody fence. I’m taking that damn bull to the slaughter house when I can move better,” he grated. Opening the door, he left his father and made his way into the house. On route, Caleb had to stop to get his breathing right.

Every time he breathed in, pain ripped across his chest, but it was worse when the breath came out. Every breath was painful; his ribs felt like they were constricting him, or he was having a damn heart attack.

He needed a drink, something to take the pain away. The meds that Logan had given him had worn off halfway home, but they did shit to the pain. He needed something way stronger than that; alcohol was the best option. Walking towards the bar area in the sitting room, he rested against the bar before he reached up and pulled down a bottle. Before he had a chance to even open it, he froze when he heard his mother’s voice behind him.