Used (Unlovable, #1) (Unlovable Series) (24 page)

“Not for your lack of trying,” he murmurs and tries to turn away from me.

I grasp his arm and spin him back to me. He glances at my hand like it’s a bug he wants to squish. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Bracing a hand on the wall beside me, he leans in and says with deadly calm, “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me what you’re up to? From what I’ve seen, you’re pretty smart for a whore.”

I gasp at the talons slicing at my heart. He’s trying to hurt me just like everyone else. And it does hurt because I never saw it coming. I thought I moved beyond this these last few weeks. I can’t speak for a minute. Part of me wants to deny it. To set him straight. His opinion of me shouldn’t matter, but for some reason, it does. It matters a lot. The other part wants to resort to her old ways and claim it. I’m torn, so I stand gaping at him.

“You can’t even deny it. Can you?” He straightens and lifts his chin, looking down on me with complete disdain.

And that does it. I lean in and capture his eyes with mine, hoping to instill conviction with my look. I shake my head before I confess, “No, I won’t deny it. You’re only half-right, though.” I pause for dramatic effect. Oh, this comes so very easy. “My mother’s the whore in the family. I’m just your average, everyday slut,” I finish with the smile I’ve perfected over the years. The one that says I’m proud of who I am regardless of whether or not I should be. The one that sends jealous bitches on their scampering, ill-intentioned ways.

He just nods at me like he knew all along I’d never deny it. Like he knows me somehow when, in actuality, he doesn’t know shit. Then he mutters, “Such a waste,” and walks away backward before giving me a regretful look and turning away.

Salt in an open wound. I never had anyone feel sorry for me when I told them off. Never. People usually reacted with shock or indifference. Never pity. He pitied me, and that killed me.

Chapter Nineteen

Ransom

“
C
OME ON,
R
ANSOM,”
Maggie begs. “We need an even number. You have to ride.”

I look at those bright green eyes and bouncing red curls and look to my buddy, whose look smirks,
go ahead and try to deny her
, and I know I’m getting no help from him.

“Fine, I’ll ride,” I grit out. I want to tell her to make sure I don’t draw Denver, but figure that will actually ensure that I do draw her.

Since we have the day off between competing, we decided not to go out and party but instead spend time with the horses. We’ve done all different kinds of fun exercises with them. They needed a good workout, but also needed to be reminded that it wasn’t all work and no play, so we took a short trail ride. I stayed as far away from Denver as I could.

The last competition we’ll hold, before heading back to the hotel, is cowgirl pickup. The girls tie up their horses and head to the other end of the arena, waiting their turn to climb the barrel. The boys line up their horses outside the arena and wait for our numbers to be called.

Pete’s number one. At the other end, surprise surprise, Maggie hops onto the barrel. He dashes in, and once he gets close enough to the barrel, he reaches out and Maggie grabs his hand while swinging herself onto his horse behind him. Pete rounds the barrel and sprints back out with the time of 11.2.

Everyone cheers and talks shit simultaneously. Austin draws Stephanie. He does much the same as Pete, but Stephanie hesitates and costs them a second. When they clock a 12.2, we boo and talk even more shit. Suddenly, I hear Stephanie smacking Austin and letting loose on him. “Austin, we’re done riding. You can take your hand off my ass now,” she complains.

“Oh, my bad,” he says innocently. “Just protecting my precious cargo.”

“Yeah, right,” she says with a laugh, as she slides down from his horse.

When my number’s called, I approach the arena cautiously. Of course, I watch in silent horror as Denver’s back goes ramrod straight as she’s told she’s drawn me. I’d bow out gracefully, but everyone would wonder why, and that would lead to an uncomfortable line of questions. She must think the same thing because, after a few seconds of hesitation, she turns and makes her way to the barrel. She doesn’t look at me until she’s standing tall on top of it with her long blonde hair blowing. Then her demure moment is gone, and her look is one of pride. My dick stirs. He doesn’t seem to mind that she is a slut. Her bright yellow eyes dare me to back down.
No such luck, sweetheart.
I find I’m actually looking forward to making her squirm on the back of my horse.

I dart off toward her, barely slowing when I approach the barrel. I throw my arm out, and she grabs it without hesitation as she swings her ass behind me, throws her arms around me tight, and whispers a, “Go,” in my ear.

We both lean in as we sprint for the finish line. I hear our small crowd explode with an “11.0” chorus. That would be difficult to beat. I gallop Knight in a circle outside the arena while I savor the feeling of Denver’s breasts pushed against my back. Up and down. Up and down. The motion nearly pushes me over the edge as I imagine her riding me, up and down, up and down.

Her whispered words are what do it instead. “Let me the fuck off this horse,” she fumes.

Wrong edge.
I don’t think so. First, I don’t like to be told what to do. Second, I’m quite enjoying having her on the back of my horse, even though I’m not supposed to.

Rather than slow down, I call to Pete that we’re heading to the barn as we rush past him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she shrieks into my ear.

Now instead of going to the barn, I’m nudging Knight toward one of the trails. Her hands tighten in my shirt when she sees where we are headed. “I swear to God, Ransom,” she bites out.

I surprise myself by rolling with laughter, and it hurts like hell, but I don’t care. I haven’t really laughed in forever. I swear I can feel her temperature rising by degrees behind me, which makes me cackle like a mad fool. I don’t really know what I’m doing here. The one thing I do know is that I want her to pay for the way she made me feel before she outed herself to me and ruined everything. I know it’s childish. She was never mine. No promises were ever made. But that didn’t stop me from convincing myself of the promise of her before it was snatched away. I felt deceived. Then lonely. Lonely led to pissed. And now here we are—me being a childish asshole, and her surely about to take my head off. And hell if my dick didn’t stir again with that thought.

When I hit the open area, I slow down to a trot. As soon as I do, her hands slip away from me, and she slides from the back of the horse with a curse. I twist around in my saddle and watch as she drops and lands—hard—on all fours.

“What the hell, Denver? I wasn’t going slow enough. You could’ve hurt yourself.” I swing down and go after her. Before she has the chance to fully stand up, I grab her elbow and spin her toward me. Her blonde hair covers her face like a veil. I run my hands over her face and separate it to reveal an angry expression staring back at me.

“What do you care whether or not I get hurt? You’ve been nothing but a cold jackass to me for weeks before yesterday’s delightful fucking Q & A where you basically called me a slut in front in the entire country.” She puts her hands on my chest with the intent of pushing me away. I grab her arms harder and crush them between us instead.

“I do care about you, dammit. I think that’s why I’m so pissed off.”

“Oh, wow. Way to deal with your feelings in a mature way,” she mocks.

Fuck, I don’t need her to tell me that. “I don’t understand this,” I confess.

“It’s not complicated. The attraction to the unattainable—it goes back to the beginning of time. You want me. I’m a slut who can’t be ‘had’ by any one person. A guy like you? It pisses you off.”

“What do you mean ‘a guy like me’?” I ask, afraid to really hear the answer.

“A manwhore, a hypocrite, a guy with double standards. I piss you off because you wanted me, just for the night, as usual, but when you realized I was the female version of you and would feel the same way about hooking up and wouldn’t want more from you, the tables were turned. Then, lo and behold, here’s someone whose panties you can’t get into and leave her worshiping you, and it chafes your ass,” she finishes, gasping for breath.

Her chest rises and falls against mine. I can’t help my eyes as they fall from hers to her breasts. I swallow hard and lick my lips as I see the tops of what I can imagine are the most perfect breasts known to man. When I glance back up, I catch her running her tongue over her bottom lip. I want to suck on it and bite it simultaneously. I want to fist her hair in my hands and have my way with her. I want it like I’ve never wanted anything else in my whole life, which gives me the strength to do what I know I need to do.

I tighten my grip on her arms and pull her even closer to me, if possible. Her eyes widen as I do. Then I conjure the strength to do the impossible and push her away with everything I’ve got. She stumbles back a few steps before catching herself, a knowing smile on her face. I want to wipe that smile from existence, but I won’t because the way I want to do it will have her writhing underneath me, moaning and taking me. My dick begs again.
Shut the fuck up!
I refocus my anger. “Don’t pretend to know anything about me, Denver.”

“I know what I see, unlike you, believing what you hear. And what I see is a guy who uses girls for his own pleasure. I know what Becky”—she sneers the name like it leaves an ugly taste in her mouth—“told me. You don’t have the same girl twice. That’s pretty fucked-up. And it’s enough to make me keep my distance.”

A noise distracts me from what I was going to say, which was to tell her to mind her own fucking business. When I look toward the noise, I see Greer.

Shit. I don’t need this shit. What the fuck was I thinking? Oh yeah, I wasn’t.

His eyes find Denver. “What the hell’s going on here? Denver, are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

He looks back to me, and he doesn’t mince words. “I don’t know what you’re playing at here, Ransom, but stay the fuck away from her. She doesn’t want anything to do with the likes of you. You’re a user, and she’s better than that, better than you. Do you understand?”

I don’t like his assumptions about me either. Neither of them know anything about me, dammit. Instead of denying anything, my irrational, dumb ass decides to egg him on. “I think Denver should be the one to decide who she associates with, don’t you? She doesn’t seem to be the kind of girl who likes to be told what to do. I don’t exactly see her protesting my attention either.”

He ignores my taunting. “You know nothing about the kind of girl she is. All you need to know is to stay away from her. She is
mine
. And I’m not gonna let some asshole like you get in between us.” He turns back to Denver. “Get on my horse,” he demands. My eyes flash to Denver to see how she handles that order. She doesn’t disappoint. Her arms are crossed over her breasts, her legs braced like she’s ready to fight.

“
She
is sick of being talked about in the third person.
She
can speak for herself.
She
is not yours.” She points at Greer. “And
she
is definitely not yours.” She points at me. “And
she
thinks you’re
both
assholes.”

She stalks toward the trail, away from the two of us. “
She’ll
find her own way back to the barn,” she grinds out over her shoulder.

“Come on, Denver, don’t be so damn stubborn. I came to help you out.”

Her head snaps back. “I don’t need your help, Greer. I don’t need to be rescued. I don’t need a knight in shining armor. I can take care of myself. Just leave me the hell alone,” she asserts before stomping off down the trail.

My laughter gets his attention. “Looks like you need to tame your pussy.”

Greer’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his head. “We’re not finished,” he seethes.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means you don’t get to run off with my girl, upset her, and cause problems with us without answering for that.”

I decide to piss him off some more. “Lapse in judgment. Won’t happen again. She’s definitely
not
worth fighting over,” I say casually before mounting my horse.

“Maybe not today or tomorrow, but I will be beating the shit out of you,” Greer sneers at me before taking off after Denver.

Denver

I
CAN’T BELIEVE
them, talking about me like I’m some object. How ridiculous. I feel like shit for talking to Greer like that, though. Ransom already had me so pissed off and got me so worked up, that when Greer started bossing me around, I just lost it. I hang my tack up in front of Liberty’s stall and turn to go find Greer. I don’t have to go far.

I throw myself around him before he can utter a word. His arms engulf me, and I know this is where I belong. I’m safe with him. “I’m so sorry, Greer. I was furious with Ransom for acting like that, and I took it out on you. I hate myself for talking to you like that.” I lean back and run my hands over his jaw. “Do you forgive me?”