Rough and Ready (More Than A Cowboy Book 2) Page 5

  After a long day of training, I liked to sit in my chair in front of the TV, zone out or even ice something that needed it. While it wasn’t my bed, it was a close second. And having Harper stand before me… hell. Just having her in the apartment changed the feel of the place.

  I didn’t release her hand but tugged her close, my knees parted, so she was right there. If I leaned forward, I could put my mouth on her breast.

  She was pissed. Really pissed. Perhaps she knew she couldn’t win against a fighter. Perhaps she was just being patient and waiting for a moment to strike—or slip away. It was a smart move for an uneven fight, and I figured this was more her plan. But I wasn’t going to let that happen. She wasn’t going anywhere until I had this figured out. Until I had her figured out.

  “I’ll get you off,” I promised. “Come closer.”

  Giving her a tug, she gasped as she fell forward, her hand landing on my shoulder for balance. Her one knee settled on the outside of my thigh. Her skirt was narrow, so she hovered above me somewhat awkwardly.

  “Reed,” she practically growled, trying to retreat.

  My hands cupped her thighs just above her knees and slid the material of her skirt up until she could settle herself, straddling my legs. I was used to a willing woman on my lap. Harper resisted and cried out my name again, and it wasn’t in pleasure.

  I studied her closely. I’d let her go if she was really freaked. Right now, she was just mad. I could handle that. I needed to know what was going on in that gorgeous head of hers. She was probably one of the smartest people I knew, yet she’d been ready to fuck Larry. It made no sense.

  “I don’t want to have sex,” she told me, making it clear she was saying no. I saw the crease that formed in her brow, heard her angry tone. I still didn’t let her up.

  “Oh? You wanted it downstairs. Is it me? I just don’t do it for you?” The sarcastic lilt to my voice didn’t go unnoticed.

  A sigh escaped as she glared at me. “Just leave me alone.”

  “No can do, princess.”

  Her palm pushed against my chest, as if that would help her. The feel of her small hand made my dick hard, but I willed it down. Now wasn’t the time to play.

  “Stop calling me that.”

  I flicked my gaze to meet hers. “Compared to me, you’re a princess.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’m just going to go to my apartment.”

  With one hand on her thigh, I kept her in place. “If you don’t give a shit about Larry, why were you going to let him fuck you?”

  “Do you give a shit about every woman you’re with?” she countered, the words fired like bullets. I wasn’t going to answer that. It was a double standard with what men got away with, but this wasn’t about her sex life. It was about her safety. I had size and weight on my side, plus my ability to fight. I could protect myself. Harper was easy prey for an asshole who wanted more than she was willing to give, especially if she were the one doing the offering.

  “I saw the way the girl at the pizza place was with you,” she continued. “Don’t tell me you didn’t fuck a groupie after some match and never see her again.”

  “I won’t.” I wouldn’t lie to her. I’d fucked women and forgotten their names directly after. A few I hadn’t even known their names. “But you’re not me. A quickie isn’t your style.”

  “Are you sure? You don’t even know me.”

  “I know enough. You wouldn’t do this unless—”

  I stopped the rest of the sentence because it all made sense. All at once, I knew, and I saw her in a completely different way. It wasn’t about the sex.

  “It’s about the release,” I said, my voice calm. Quiet. “You want to come, to feel good, even just for a moment. To forget, don’t you?”

  She looked over my shoulder, color brightening her cheeks. Her shoulders went up. Yeah, I’d hit a nerve, and that meant I was getting close to the truth.

  “Had a rough day? Tell me about it.” I gave her thighs a little squeeze, ignored how soft her skin felt. How supple the toned flesh was.

  “Why?”

  I cocked my head, studied her. “Because I like you, and I want to know.”

  “No.” I felt her body stiffen, watched as her shoulders went back. She shook her head, her hair falling in front of her face again. She ruthlessly tucked it behind her ears. “I don’t want to talk. I want to fuck, but I don’t do relationships.”

  “So, Larry then. As for relationships? Good. Neither do I.”

  I wanted to be honest with her. I’d kill for a relationship with someone like her, but no. I wasn’t that much of an asshole. I wasn’t going to bring her down into my world. She deserved so much more. She already was so much more.

  When she wiggled her hips, I let go of my hold. She slithered back and lowered to her knees, looked up at me through her lashes. Shit. Harper on the floor between my legs was fucking hot, and my dick throbbed. The idea of those pouty lips stretched wide around it had me stifling a groan. When her hands slid up my thighs, I knew once she succeeded in her task of getting my dick out, I wouldn’t have any more control.

  “No.” The word came out sharper than I wanted, but hell, she was about to touch my dick. “You won’t use a BJ to keep from talking.”

  Using my fighter strength, I tugged her back up onto my lap, her skirt riding up to her hips. My hands went back to her thighs.

  “No?” she asked, her brow crinkled in a frown. “You don’t want my mouth?”

  “If I wanted to be serviced, I’d go to a whore. That’s not you, Harper.”

  Angry fire filled her eyes, her cheeks flushing. “How dare—”

  “No,” I said again. “You want my attention? You crave being with someone? That’s fine. I’ll even get you off. But not like this.”

  “Fine, we’ll fuck,” she snapped.

  My thumbs slid back and forth over her inner thighs. Slowly, I moved them closer and closer to her pussy which was covered in a thin scrap of pale pink silk and lace. Good thing my dick was still in my pants. It was the only way to keep from busting a nut. The fabric clung to her folds, which were clearly outlined by the damp silk. I wanted to touch what was beneath, to feel her heat, her wetness, learn how soft she’d be. But not today.

  “No fucking,” I countered.

  All I did was brush my thumbs over the delicate edges of her panties, back and forth.

  “Reed,” she murmured, letting her eyes fall closed.

  Fuck. I could come from just that sound, the feel of her, the sight of her panties, the scent of her.

  “You want to come?” I whispered.

  She didn’t open her eyes, just nodded her head. Bit her lip.

  Moving my right thumb an inch, I moved it over her clit. I didn’t press down, just brushed over it through her panties. I wanted answers, and I was going to get them. A pliant and mindless Harper was the only way she was going to open up.

  “Why Larry?”

  I waited, let her sink more into her clit being stroked. Asked again.

  “He… he offered the other day. He’s easy.”

  That was true. He was a total man whore.

  “Why didn’t you come to me?”

  When she didn’t answer, I stroked over her panties a little faster. I watched her face, learned what made her hot.

  “I… I don’t know you.”

  Bad answer. “You don’t know Larry. Why, princess?”

  She whimpered when I stilled my thumb.

  “Why?”

  She licked her lips. “Because you’re not easy. Because I would want more.”

  I wasn’t sure if I should be thrilled or disappointed, but I rewarded her with a slip of my thumb.

  “Yes,” she hissed.

  “You’re a good girl, princess. You deserve more than a fuck in a stairwell.”

  She shook her head, her eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t want it.”

  “Yes, you do. You crave being with someone. You deserve more than a mindless releas
e. You deserve an even exchange.” And her on her knees before me, sucking my dick wasn’t an even exchange. “A connection.”

  Her head moved back and forth, continuing to deny my words. I loved the way her hair fell over her shoulders, the way her skin flushed. “No. No! It’s too painful. I won’t get close.”

  The left side of her clit seemed to be more sensitive, so I focused my attentions there. Slowed my thumb to brush over just that small point. I ached for her, to hear the truth of her feelings, to know she felt she had to debase herself to the point of fucking a guy like Larry just to feel good.

  “Who hurt you?”

  A tear slid down her cheek. Shit. I’d found the problem, but it wasn’t something I could fix. She didn’t get a flat tire or a reprimand from her boss. She was upset about the past, something bigger than a bad day.

  “Tell me who hurt you, and I’ll let you come.”

  She shifted her hips, starting to take what she wanted, to move into the pleasure, and all I did was touch her through her panties. “My… my family.”

  I wanted to stop, to hear what they’d done, but I couldn’t deny her the release she craved. I worked her with my thumb until her nails dug into my shoulders, until her head fell back, her long hair dangled down her back, her neck vulnerable and exposed.

  Fuck, she was gorgeous, and I wanted to watch her come more than anything else in my life. “Come, princess.”

  She did, and I felt her thighs quiver as they pressed into mine, watched her breasts rise and fall beneath her blouse as she cried out her release, felt her panties become wet from a flood of her desire. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and that unsettled me. I’d never been affected like this before, and I’d only touched her over her panties, and my dick was tucked away—painfully—in my jeans. How had something so… so high school seemed like something new?

  She was as broken as me. Money and privilege, opportunity even, didn’t keep someone from bad shit. The night before she’d mentioned having a shitty family, and whatever happened between them cut her deep. Some people drank, some did drugs. Some did reckless shit like skydiving to ease the pain. It seemed Harper lost herself in meaningless sex.

  She was done with that. Larry was the last loser she pulled into a stairwell to make herself feel better.

  I continued to stroke her until the last bits of her pleasure ebbed. Her eyes opened, met mine. Instead of a sated smile, her eyes widened as if she just realized what she’d done, and then she crumbled. She started to cry. Her hands covered her face as she straddled me and sobbed. For a moment, I was frozen, completely surprised by the swift change, but I should have known.

  She’d wanted a release, to come and feel better. Larry would have given it to her, but I doubted she’d have felt safe enough to let go completely. What she probably hadn’t even realized was that she’d needed to cry, and Larry wouldn’t have been able to give her that. I had. Because she trusted me, felt protected enough to let down every one of those damn walls. I felt humbled and in trouble. This woman was going to make me think things I could never have.

  7

  HARPER

  This hadn’t gone as I’d expected. I was sitting in Reed’s lap crying, my skirt all but bunched about my waist.

  I didn’t cry. There hadn’t been any tears left from two years ago. I’d thought they were all gone, but no. Somehow Reed—god, the one man I never expected—turned me into a damn faucet. All because he’d refused to fuck me.

  I had no idea how long I cried. Minutes? Hours? The entire time, he just sat there and rubbed my back, my cheek pressed into his chest. He was warm, his big hands comforting, and I’d felt… protected. He’d allowed me to let my guard down, and he’d seen me at my worst. I could only imagine what he thought of me.

  I sat up quickly, almost bumping his chin doing so. With my fingers, I wiped the tears from my cheeks. I was sure my mascara stained them. God, I probably looked a mess. “I’m sorry. I… I don’t usually do that.”

  “No, I didn’t think you did,” he replied quietly.

  I dared a peek at him, and I was surprised. He wasn’t revolted or even bored. He looked concerned. It wasn’t an expression I expected to see on a tough fighter. Those pale eyes had none of the cold fury he’d aimed at Larry. Only concern. Patience. Curiosity.

  I sniffed, tried to push through my embarrassment. “I should go.”

  His hands were on my thighs again, this time the touch wasn’t sexual but gentle. I could feel rough callouses, reminding me they were weapons against others. But not me. For me, his touch was gentle and comforting.

  “Not yet. I can’t let you leave like this.” His voice was missing that sharp bite from before.

  “I’m fine,” I countered, taking a deep breath. I was calmer now, if only I could extricate myself from his lap, from his apartment and die of embarrassment alone. I’d gotten on my knees with the intention of sucking him off. My neighbor! I could never live that down, never look him in the eye again.

  “You will be. Just give yourself a minute.”

  He was too damn patient. How did a brawler like him end up being so sweet? I didn’t dare ask. I knew he’d been aroused. I’d felt his hard length press against me, and if I glanced down, I’d see the thick outline through his jeans. But he wasn’t doing anything about it. Why?

  “Don’t you want me to…” I couldn’t say the rest, just tilted my head down.

  “Not tonight.”

  Not tonight? I frowned. “But this was just a one-time thing.”

  His pale eyes held mine as he reached up and stroked my hair back from my face where it clung to my damp cheeks. “No way.”

  “But you don’t want more.”

  “I’m not looking for a relationship, no. But I won’t have you getting your needs met by some random guy. He could be an asshole or worse. It’s too dangerous. Like I said before, you come to me if you need to get off.”

  “Or cry,” I said, shame faced.

  “Or cry,” he repeated. “A release is a release, princess. Feel better?”

  I did. Yeah, what he’d done with his thumb had been just short of miraculous, and he’d barely touched me. I could only imagine what it would be like if we took our clothes off, were skin to skin. To say there was chemistry between us was an understatement.

  It had just been his concern, his quiet presence that settled me. He knew now that I had some serious issues with my family, but who didn’t? Fortunately, I hadn’t told him about Cam or my mother. He hadn’t known about my need for connection that my therapist called self-destructive. Well, he did now. And still, he wasn’t judging, wasn’t using me for himself. He’d declined a blow job. He could ask for me to get him off—it was his turn—but he didn’t. He probably had the worst case of blue balls and didn’t seem to care.

  “I’m to just knock on your door, and we’ll what… fuck?”

  He arched a dark brow but didn’t rise to my bait. I was trying to rile him, to see how far I could push him with this. It wasn’t working. “One of these days, princess, I’ll get inside you. When it’s time.”

  His words made me shiver. I hadn’t lied when I’d told him I’d want more if I were with him. And not just sex. He was dangerous to my carefully built walls. He’d already gotten past most of it; I didn’t cry for anyone. Ever. If I let him, he’d knock it all down, and then I’d be vulnerable. I couldn’t be hurt again. Couldn’t be made worthless by those who should have cared.

  I cocked my head to the side, studied him. “How do you fight in the ring when you’re so damn chill?” I asked.

  That got a smile from him. Just that tilt of his mouth, and his entire look changed. Gone was the hard ass, the ruthless competitor. He was rugged and so fucking handsome. My eyes dropped to those lips, wondered what a kiss would be like.

  “I figured you to be a cowboy like Gray.”

  He shook his head. “I’m more than a cowboy, princess. I’m a fighter. That’s my job. But you’re not my opponent,” he t
old me. “We’ll do this together. I don’t want a quick fuck with you. I want more. You’re more, Harper, even if you don’t believe it.”

  Something flipped inside my chest then, and it was in the vicinity of my heart. It had been walled off for so long that the sensation startled me. Scared me to feel it.

  This time, when I tried to stand, he let me. I brushed down my skirt, thinking about how I’d been so lewdly displayed in his lap—even though I’d originally been there to fuck.

  “I’m going to go.” I glanced down at him, even as I ran my hands over my thighs to smooth the fabric. “Um, well, thank you.”

  He only nodded his head slightly as he stood and followed me to the door, opening it for me. I stepped out into the hallway, turned to face him.

  “See you around.” What did one say to a guy who’d turned you down for sex, got you off with his thumb and let you cry on him? When the corner of his mouth tipped up and made him seem less dangerous and wickedly handsome at the same time, I knew it was the right thing.

  He waited until I had my door unlocked before he closed his. Reed, although he’d probably deny it, was a gentleman. A fighter, bad boy, gentleman.

  After closing my door behind me, I flipped on the light, took in my unpacked apartment and felt a wave of loneliness. It was because I’d opened myself up and been vulnerable for Reed that I felt gutted. I wanted to crawl back on his lap and stay there. It would go away, this need for someone else. To be held, comforted. It had to. But how? The man who seemed to be seeing every one of my cracks lived ten feet away. He was getting too close and not just physically. I needed space, time to regroup, and I couldn’t do it if I might run into him.

  There was only one way to do it. Leave. My therapist would say avoidance wasn’t the way to go, but she’d never met Reed, never come like I had with just his thumb over my panties. I grabbed my cell to pull up my plane reservation but almost dropped it when I saw the screen. I’d missed a call, and I recognized the number. My father’s office. It hadn’t changed in all the years he’d worked as partner in the law firm in Denver. My number, though, had changed. Several times in the past two years. There was only one way he’d gotten it.