Tucking my clutch under my arm, I pull my hair off my sweaty skin with one hand and fan my neck with the other. The bar I’m at is in downtown Tulsa, right next to the part of the city that has been under revitalization the past ten years. In one direction are more people and more lights and buildings, and less than a block in the other direction is an intersection that has empty lots on the other side.
They started bulldozing some of the older buildings in this area last year so they can build new, state-of-the-art condos, which draw in some of the yuppie business types from other states. I’ve never been much of a fan of the ranch life my family is part of, but I’m also not drawn to the beta men I see moving in.
Maybe I’m just a hypocrite, but I was raised around oversized gentlemen who have been sorely overprotective of me my whole life. They would put their lives on the line to make sure I’m safe.
It’s almost like a superpower to have such big, burly men at my beck and call, but with that much power comes a shit-ton of responsibility. I would never intentionally do anything to put my brothers in danger.
That’s probably why I’m still single. They just don’t make men like my brothers and father anymore. Ranches and hard work are becoming a thing of the past, the kinds of men who work them are disappearing, too. I would never tell my brothers this, but I’m always comparing men to them.
I was only eight when my mom died, but I remember seeing my dad holding her close as they danced in the kitchen. Or when he would open the truck door and pull her out into his arms and kiss her before setting her down. She was always laughing when she was around my dad. I guess any man I meet has big shoes to fill.
Or I’m just going to be single for the rest of my life. I won’t settle. Obviously. This birthday is my thirty-second, and I’ve never been in a serious relationship. The longest relationship I’ve had lasted maybe two months. I don’t even remember why I didn’t like him.
Slowly walking down the sidewalk, the southern cross-breeze is getting stronger the closer I get to the intersection away from the buildings, and it feels good. I let my head fall back and close my eyes as I get to the corner of one of the older buildings they salvaged and refurbished.
I hear a commotion down the sidewalk to my right and open my eyes. About ten yards away from me, two men are holding another man against the wall. Just as I realize what I’m seeing, one of the two men shoves a knife into the side of the man against the wall.
Holy fuck!
I gasp, and I hear my clutch hit the ground as I slap my hands over my mouth. The guy who was stabbed is sliding down the wall, and the other two men swing their heads in my direction.
Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, no!
The man with the bloody knife in his hand smiles as I take a step back. They move in my direction, and my brain istelling me to run, but my feet are frozen.
Oh, God. Did they just kill that man?
I take another shaky step back, almost around the corner, when I hear a deep voice behind me. “Damn it! Come here!”
A powerful arm snakes around my waist, and I’m being pulled back around the corner into a small alcove that leads to the door of a business. It’s small, but dark. The same brown eyes I saw in the bar earlier are looking down at me, anger wrinkling his forehead, but he grabs my wrists and holds them over my head with one hand and pushes me into the corner with his body. His knee goes between my legs.
The shock of the whole thing has my brain moving in slow motion and just as my anger is about to push him away and ask him what the fuck he thinks he’s doing, his large hand is hot on my hip, and his lips crash into mine. His giant frame is shielding me from any eyes behind him, but his tongue slices between my lips, pushing into me like he owns me.
At first I buck against him, trying to push him away, my hips pushing against his, but God, he knows how to kiss. His hand slides to the small of my back to hold me still against him. If he keeps this up, I’m going to be a puddle at his feet. Everything I just saw melts from my brain.
Once, a guy asked to kiss me because his friends dared him to, so I did. For fun. I wonder if this is another one of those situations.
He’s commanding, but gentle. His hand around my wrists holds me in a soft vice, and his hand on my back is splayed across my skin, the tips of his fingers just touching the round edge of my ass. His leg is pressing against my sex, and I feel myself get slick with each thrust and swirl of his tongue.
When I melt into him and start kissing him back, he breaks the kiss and slides his nose across my jaw, his whiskers scratch against my skin when he puts his lips next to my ear and whispers, “Be still and be quiet unless you want them to see you.”
CHAPTER TWO
RHYS
FUCK!
I’VEbeen following these guys for months. What they just did was the perfect opportunity for me to grab them and haul them into headquarters.
If not for the beautiful blond pressed against me right now.
She just ruined my break in this case, not to mention my shirt that cost way more than twenty bucks. But I have a feeling she knew that when she tossed the slight at me inside the bar, insinuating twenty bucks could replace it. At the time, I thought she was cute, but she just turned into a fucking pain in my ass.
As I look down at her, I hear the retreating footsteps of the men that I should be cuffing and putting in my car right now, running down the sidewalk looking for her.She blinks a couple of times, and I see the exact moment her wits come back and her eyebrows pull together.
She tries to push me away again, but I hold firm. “Get off me!” she hisses like a kitten about to smack me with her tiny claws.
Claws that I’m still holding over her head.
