The Wanted Virgin (Cowboys & Virgins Book 3)

T
race Jennings was
the brother who most enjoyed his time alone. He never thought about spending the rest of his life with someone, until he found her on his ranch.

Addison Becket is on the run. She’s finally eighteen and able to break free of her father’s control, but taking off on a stormy night landed her in a stranger’s bed.

Trace is everything Addison dreamed of and more, and neither of them has the urge to let go. Can love at first sight truly exist? And will it be enough to keep them together while others try to tear them apart?

Please. This is an Alexa Riley hero. She’s not going anywhere.

W
arning
: 
This short story is filthy good, with co-dependency at its peak! These two people are absolutely crazy, and it if wasn’t so sweet, it would be certifiable. Go ahead and suspend your reality while you float away with this cloud of ridiculous!

C
opyright
© 2016 by Author Alexa Riley LLC. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to [email protected]

http://alexariley.com/

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Edited by
Aquila Editing

Photographer Rob Lang 
http://www.roblangimages.com

T
o the reader
who loves a sweet captive story… heres hoping you wake up in a bed with Trace!

T
he rain beats down
, showing no signing of lessening anytime soon. The wind is coming in so hard I can feel the house shake, the windows rattling. There are a million places my mind should be right now—worrying about the already-high lake flooding, the fences that might be knocked down, enabling cattle to escape, or the oil riggings being damaged. But none of that seems to matter. I can’t even be bothered with the idea of it. Which isn’t normal for me. I like everything done and handled. Everything organized. Chaos drives me crazy, and normally a storm would have me pacing, wondering about the mess I’d have to clean in the morning.

All these things are small in comparison to what my mind insists on focusing on. All my attention is solely on the woman lying in my bed. I can’t take my eyes off her. Haven’t been able to since I found her lying in the middle of my fields, completely alone.

Her midnight-black hair was spread out all around her. A thin white dress clung to her curvy little body, her feet bare. She looked like an angel sent to tempt a man. Almost like she’d fallen right out of the sky and onto my ranch. Part of me thought that it makes her mine. This is Texas, after all, and possession is nine-tenths of the law.

How she’d really gotten there, I had no idea. I just knew from the moment I found her she was mine. Something deep inside me told me she was running from something, and I’m the one she ran to. Why else would a young woman be out in the middle of nowhere with no shoes, the nearest road over a mile away?

Maybe the gash on her head had confused her. She’d lost her way somehow, but still that didn’t seem to make sense either. I didn’t know what had brought her here, but that didn’t matter. She’s mine now. If someone’s chasing her, I’ll make sure they never find her.

When I couldn’t get her to wake, I picked her up off the ground. She weighed almost nothing, even with all those curves she had. I’d not only seen them but felt them when I pulled her body to mine, cradling her in my arms. I carefully held on to her as I climbed back onto my horse.

“Don’t let them find me.”

Her soft words ring over and over again in my head. She’d said those words as she nuzzled in closer to me. I could feel her lips on my neck the whole ride back to my home. It wasn’t an easy ride, holding her like that, but I made do. There was no other choice. I sure as hell wasn’t leaving her, even if there wasn’t a storm rolling in on top of us. The rain had already started to pour, and I barely got her into the house and my horse in the barn before all hell broke loose.

I wasn’t sure what to do with her at first. So I did the only thing I could think of. I took care of her. I stripped her of her wet clothes, doing the best I could to not look at her, no matter how much I wanted to. I couldn’t just let her lie in them, and I couldn’t figure how to get the damn dress off. But one good tug and the thing ripped right down the middle. I pulled it from her and tossed it to the floor before covering her with the blanket I keep at the end of my bed.

She didn’t feel like she had a fever when I checked her, and the cut on her head wasn’t deep enough to need stitches, not that we could go anywhere if she needed medical attention. Not with the storm raging like it was. Besides, she didn’t need to go anywhere. I liked her right where she was.

As I look down at her, I don’t know what to do next besides stand here. She looks like a porcelain doll in the middle of my giant bed. I never thought my bed was big until she was in the center of it, hardly taking up any space. God knows how long I’ve been standing here already. My wet clothes are already starting to dry.

She lets out a little sigh, her full lips parting a fraction before her pink tongue darts out, wetting them.

“Fuck,” I mumble, closing my eyes and turning my back to her.

The things I’m thinking about while she lies passed out on my bed would send an angel running. If that’s what she is. I haven’t even seen her eyes yet, and I can’t stop thinking about what color they might be.

Knowing I need some space before I find myself crawling into bed with her, I walk over to my dresser and start digging around for some sleep bottoms, or whatever they’re called. I know someone got me some for Christmas last year. I think. Normally I sleep naked, not having to worry about anyone else being around. I’m always alone here unless my sister Dolly pops in to drop something off.

I’m not like the rest of my brothers, who let Dolly in and allow her to wreak havoc on their homes. Okay, maybe
allow
is a little strong, but Dolly has taken on the role of our mother with full force since we lost ours years back. If I allowed Dolly, she’d be here most nights dropping off dinner and asking me a million questions about a million different things.

Lucky for me, the storm won’t be letting anyone get close. Everyone thought I kept putting off laying new gravel on the road that leads to my house because I didn’t have time. Truth be told, I like it to be a pain in the ass to get to my house. Maybe then people won’t come around so much.

It isn’t that I don’t love my two brothers, Ty and Blake, and even my nosy little sister, Dolly. But I like to be alone, or out on the land. It works for me. I’m not a man of many words. I say what needs to be said and that’s it. If I want to visit, I go visit.

But ever since Ty went and got married and started down this marriage road, it’s like everyone is pushing in for the rest of us to do it, too. Marriage isn’t something I’ve ever given much thought to. I have enough to worry about most of the time. I’m not sure I’m fit to be a husband, so I’ve never tried. Never had a desire to.

But now the sound of an empty house doesn’t hold any appeal. In fact, I’m trying to come up with ways to make sure my little baby doll doesn’t try to slip out on me. I have no idea what she’s going to say when she wakes up, or how fast she’ll try to be out of here.

Finally finding the pants, I go to the bathroom. I peel off my wet jeans and T-shirt before tossing them into the hamper and pulling on the dry sleep bottoms. I hear a moan from the other room and I bolt from the bathroom to find my little doll thrashing on the bed.

I rush over to her and try to wake her up. When I bring my hand to her face to calm her, she stops thrashing, and she tilts her cheek into my hand as if seeking my comfort. Her body relaxes into the bed, but when I pull my hand away from her, she starts to stir again until I return it.

“Shit,” I mutter, knowing what I’m going to have to do. This is going to be the sweetest torture I’ve ever felt. Pulling the blankets back, I slide into the bed next to her, pulling her to me. She rolls over, burying her face in my neck, and throws one of her legs over my hip, as if trying to get as close to me as possible. I lie there, willing my erection to go down as the scent of rose petals fills my lungs. I wonder if the fragrance is from her time in the field, or if she naturally smells this sweet.

When her lips touch my neck, I reach down and grab my cock, pinching it at the base as painfully as I can stand it. I’m fighting against my balls as they draw up. Holy shit, I’m going to cum.

“Don’t leave me,” she whispers against my neck.

“Never,” I tell her, knowing those words will always be true.

But what she doesn’t know is, she’s never leaving me either.