Then I see her. She’s in little black running shorts and a green fitted tank top that hugs her figure. Her ponytail whips back and forth, almost matching the pace of her feet pounding into the gravel with each step. Rossco runs ahead of her, and for a second, I think she’s too distracted to hear my truck barreling down the road, but then she looks over her shoulder and increases speed.
She’s in a full-out sprint now.
I slam on the gas and tug the wheel to the right, whipping the truck past Taryn. One tire rolls off the side onto the grass, so I can safely get around her, but I also want to scare the shit out of her. Once I’m past her and Rossco, I jerk back onto the road and slam on the brakes when I’m a safe enough distance in front, throwing it into park. I can see where the plot of trees abruptly stops in front of the truck—the bend in the road a little farther on the cliffside.
I glance in the rearview mirror, clutching the wheel with my fists, and she stops. She places her hands on her hips, attempting to catch her breath. I throw the driver’s side door open and stalk toward her with pure irritation.
She walks backward in a pathetic attempt to avoid me. “Colten,” my name emerges breathlessly. “What are you doing?” She swallows, placing a hand on her chest. “How did you find me?”
I slant my head. “Running, Little Ghost?”
Her eyes dart between mine, her body tensing when I stand directly in front of her.
A bead of sweat cascades down her temple. “Yes,” she answers, and I arch a brow. Taryn shakes her head. “I mean, yes, but no. I am running, but I’m notrunning,” she huffs.
I point to her and then Rossco, who’s plopped down in the shade under one of the apple trees, panting away. “You just wanted to go on a run?” I question disbelievingly. “Had a little energy you needed to run off?”
She crosses one arm over the other. “As a matter of fact, yes. And you’re to blame.” She gestures to me.
“Why am I to blame?” I counter.
She rolls her eyes and licks her bottom lip. “You know why. You aren’t a saint, Colten. You intentionally left those drapes wide open!”
“And you stood there watching as I spreadherwide open, Little Ghost.”
Taryn’s jaw pops. “I saw you wrap your belt around her neck. I was watching to make sure you didn’t choke the poor girl to death! After all, you have a very questionable track record with women.” Her fingernail taps against one of my pecs, my heart thrashing at her touch. “For all I know, you keep your curtains closed so I can’t see all the corpses from your visitors every night scattered around the floor.”
I smirk.Nice try, but I know you stand there observing to catch when they leave.My mysterious activities have piqued her interest.
My arms fold across my chest, her gaze falling from my eyes to my biceps, where the decaying leaves transform into crow feathers on my forearm. Her fingertips drum into her thigh as if she’s trying not to touch me.
“So, you’re telling me you don’t stand at that window and watch them leave after I’m finished with them every night?”
She takes a step toward me. “Doesn’t mean you don’t have some stuffed in your closet to use later,” she banters.
The sunlight glistens off the sheen of moisture coating her skin, my eyes locking on a drop gliding down the valley of her breasts in that tight tank top. I bet they taste as good as they look.
“I prefer my women very much alive and begging to be fucked,” I reply honestly.
Her lips part just as the breeze blows a strand of her brown hair across them. I’m unsure if the breeze or my words cause her to shudder, but I hope it’s the latter.
I take another step toward her, forcing her breasts to clash against my chest. I lower my tone, brushing my fingers across her jawline. Did you like watching? “Did seeing me fuck her make you wet?” Her erratic breathing hitches, making my cocktwitch. “Did you crawl under those covers and finish what you started with your fingers?”
She slaps my hand away with hers. “Yep,” she pops the P. A corner of her mouth lifts mischievously. “And the entire time, I thought about your twin brothers,” she says dryly.
That one response from her fucking mouth is like a missile straight to the wall I built. Red-hot fury flows through my veins, detonating any ounce of self-control I have. The memory of her smart mouth in my office and what I said I’d do if she talked to me like that again has me swiftly throwing her five-foot-something frame over my shoulder.
She keeps belting my name and squirming in my hold, but my rough hand smacking her ass shuts her up.
She weighs the same as a sack of apples. But I’d bet my soul to the devil that Little Ghost probably tastes sweeter.
TWENTY | TARYN
Iwent on a run.
A run.
I wasn’t running away.
