Rough and Ready (More Than A Cowboy Book 2) Page 7

  God, that sounded really, really appealing, yet it scared the shit out of me. While I’d allowed men like Giles to touch me, to fuck me, they hadn’t seen me. I didn’t bare my body or my soul to any of them. They knew nothing about me, saw nothing past their own arousal and desires. To get off. And I wanted it that way. I didn’t want anyone to see my flaws, everything dirty in my past. In my life.

  With Reed, when I’d been on his lap, I’d been completely covered, he’d touched me over my panties, and I’d never been so exposed. Vulnerable. He hadn’t gotten off. He hadn’t even gotten a kiss.

  Still, he saw me. Saw into me, into the deep places I kept hidden, that I traveled five thousand miles to escape. In his texts, he’d asked me if I was running from him, and I’d answered him honestly. Distance helped with telling the truth. I was running from everything, and it had been the first time I’d admitted it, even to myself.

  I was running from my life, and just like on the treadmill at the gym, I wasn’t going anywhere. I was stuck. Trapped. Not just by Cam but by my own doing.

  I did the math. Bit my lip. Two-thirty here, seven-thirty in Colorado. Reed had left the conversation open, asking me out, which meant he wanted to know more about me. I wanted that, I did, but then he might see the cracks in my facade. He might see the truth, and then he’d be gone. Who would want to stay with someone like me?

  I got up, got a drink of water from the sink in the bathroom. Stared at myself in the old mirror over the narrow sink. Was I going to live like this? Meet Giles after the morning presentation for a quick fuck just so I felt better? Would I feel better? It used to work, but I didn’t think it would now. Thinking of dropping to my knees before Giles made me nauseated. Ashamed.

  What was wrong with me? I closed my eyes, sighed. God, I had been letting a stranger stick his dick in me for some twisted validation.

  No. Reed was right. No more. I looked down at my cell, resting on the lip of the sink. I just had to push his name on my screen.

  Engage. Connect. Then I wouldn’t be alone.

  I picked up the phone, pressed the little phone icon next to his name.

  “Harper.”

  Just his voice had my heart beating frantically.

  “Reed,” I said. My voice was breathless. “I, um… sorry, did I catch you at the gym?”

  “It’s the middle of the night there. Are you okay?”

  I exhaled, relaxed, at least a little bit. “Jet lag.”

  “I didn’t know you were going away.” No, I hadn’t told him although we hadn’t done much talking. “Work?”

  I turned off the light in the bathroom and climbed onto the bed, stacking the pillows against the mahogany headboard with my free hand, so I could sit up.

  “I’m a guest lecturer at the university here, which has me doing joint research, leading seminars. This trip, there’s a group presentation on the latest dig at the cathedral ruins at—” I sighed, realizing I sounded like an idiot. “Never mind. It’s about a pile of really old rocks.”

  I heard him huff out a little laugh. “I don’t need to know the complicated details. I just like hearing the excitement in your voice.”

  For a second, I had no idea how to respond.

  “You like what you do,” he continued.

  “Yes,” I replied, tucking my bare legs under the thick blankets. I was only in an old t-shirt and panties, and it was chilly, the space heated by an old radiator beneath the window. The cozy bedding and flannel sheets made up the difference.

  “I can hear it when you talk about it. I thought you had finals here.”

  “I did, but they finished the other day. My TA closed out the grades.”

  “Aren’t classes done for the holiday there, too?”

  “Their term finished today.”

  “You’ll be coming back to spend Christmas with your family?”

  “Soon.”

  I wasn’t going to offer him more, that I would spend the holiday alone. Telling him about why I would be by myself wasn’t something I wanted to do, and I didn’t want his pity. Byzantine art and a dysfunctional family were not topics any woman should share with a guy unless she wanted to drive him away.

  He was quiet for a minute, but I didn’t mind. “So, you did run away.”

  I leaned back, slid lower into the pillows. “Yes.”

  “From me?” he asked, and I remembered his text earlier.

  “You? No.” I bit my lip. Took a chance. “From what you made me feel? Definitely.”

  “You don’t like coming so hard you cry out?”

  I felt my cheeks heat, and I groaned with embarrassment.

  “Reed,” I said, pleading with him to stop with just his name.

  “That’s not how you said it the other night.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re terrible.”

  I heard him laugh, too. “I figured you’d say I was really, really good.”

  “You’re really sure of yourself.”

  “I bet I could make you do it again.”

  I slid further down in bed, rubbed my thighs together. My pussy ached because he was right. Because I remembered how good it felt when he’d touched me. I had no doubt he could do it again. “Too bad I’m so far away,” I replied.

  “Princess, you doubt my skill?” I remained quiet. “Are you in bed?”

  “Yes.”

  I heard his groan through the phone. “What are you wearing?”

  “Reed,” I said again, slightly stunned but mostly aroused. How could just his voice from thousands of miles away make me feel needy? “I’m not telling you that.”

  “You sleep naked, don’t you?”

  I huffed out a small laugh. “I am not answering that.”

  “That means yes. Christ, I’m hard just thinking about it.”

  And that made me wet. Knowing I turned him on made me feel good. Good in a way I hadn’t in a long time. But I wasn’t ready for this, for him. He’d overwhelmed me the other night. He was overwhelming me now with just his… niceness. “I’m not having phone sex with you.”

  “Okay.” His one word was even, calm.

  I stilled, realizing he wasn’t pushing, wasn’t making me do something I didn’t want to do. Well, I did want to do it. I wanted to do it really, really badly, but it was just as clinical as it would have been fucking Larry.

  Still, he took my no as just that. No.

  “But princess, remember what I said before. If you need to come, I’ll give it to you. Even from far away. Don’t go seeing the Englishman you have over there.”

  I stiffened, my fingers gripping the phone. “I don’t know what you’re—”

  “Harper. I don’t give a shit what you’ve done in the past, hell, who you’ve done in the past. Do I wish no one’s had their hands on you before? Of course. But I won’t be an asshole when I’ve got a past, too. I don’t let that matter, and I won’t let what you’ve done matter either. But I’ll give you what you need now and keep you safe doing it.”

  He could see too much. He couldn’t really know about Giles—he hadn’t even known I was out of the country—but he’d seen me with Larry. Knew what I was going to do with him, how it hadn’t meant anything, just a chance for me to forget for a few minutes. Reed had seen it in the stairwell, knew I’d probably have someone here in the UK, too. I didn’t want to tell him he was right. I wasn’t ready for it, even though I’d broken down on his lap. Gave me a release, in a way almost better than an orgasm.

  I didn’t know how to respond without revealing any more of me, so I ended the call without saying anything at all.

  11

  REED

  After tossing the cell onto the passenger seat, I closed my eyes, wrapped my fingers around the steering wheel. I was parked across the street from where I grew up in the shitty part of town. The house was gutted. The windows had been shattered on the second floor, the lower ones covered in warped wood with graffiti sprayed on it. The brick facade was chipped and starting to collapse. It was t
oo dark to see the smoke damage, but I knew it was there. The houses on either side were vacant and abandoned, too. Hell, almost every one on the street gutted.

  All was quiet, but that was deceiving. Steam rose from the manhole covers, proving it was too cold to be outside, even for the rats that usually darted out to find food. Not that anyone smart would be walking the streets in this part of town after the sun went down. It wasn’t a safe place. No, it was rough like me. One had to be ready for anything here. Rough and ready, that was me. Old cars lined both sides of the road, the street lamp was blown out in the center of the block, and I had to wonder if it was a new development or if the city crew refused to come here to replace it.

  This block was my past. My fucked-up childhood. Rough streets, rougher home life. In my mind, I saw my father’s angry face, heard his vicious words, felt the hot sear of his belt. There was no forgetting my mother’s drunk gaze as she let it all happen. The gym was an hour from here, but it could have been a world away. It was my life now, yet this shithole still close enough where it could easily come back to haunt me. I didn’t want to be back, but I couldn’t shake the two men who’d camped out in the gym’s lot. They’d done nothing, just sat there and watched us then eventually left. One minute they were there, the next time I turned around, gone.

  It couldn’t be just a one-time thing. Not a chance in fucking hell.

  Gray had shit with his dad. Old shit. I’d never met the man, but I knew he called Gray out of nowhere just to fuck with him. The asshole had him watched. Followed. He bet against his fights. And that was all since Gray returned from his army deployments. What happened when he was a kid… he didn’t speak about it any more than I shared my own past, but it had been fucked up.

  But after last summer’s deal with Emory and the drug dealer who’d gone after her, the man had left Gray alone. Supposedly, Quake Baker had something on the dad, enough to make the bastard afraid. Afraid enough to leave his son alone. It helped that the older man was president of the No Holds Barred MC. I couldn’t see Gray’s dad stirring shit up now out of the blue. That left me. The men in the car had to have been there for me. But why?

  My dad was dead. I’d seen to that. My mother had died a few years ago, her liver finally giving out on her in some women’s shelter. The crowd I’d run with back in the day weren’t part of a gang, at least they hadn’t been years ago. The men in the car? Not gang members.

  This place was tainted. I was tainted, and I’d taken Harper’s call from here, staring out and seeing my past. When her name lit up my cell, I felt… happiness. Happiness in this hell hole. It only made me see all of the differences between us. Privilege and poverty. Brains and brawn.

  I wanted Harper. Fuck, any man alive would see her long legs and wish they were wrapped around his waist. It was more than that. I wanted to hear her voice, see her smile. Make her fucking happy.

  I’d told her I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I hadn’t been, never considered myself more than an easy lay for a woman who wanted a good time. Now, that held no appeal. No woman interested me but Harper. Somehow having her far away, unattainable, made me change my thinking. I may not have been looking for one, but a relationship had found me. I wasn’t walking away from Harper or her shit ton of problems. I’d take them from her, make them mine. They couldn’t be worse than anything I’d seen or lived through. I could handle it. Did that make me whipped? Fuck, yes. I had no idea how it happened or why I’d changed my thinking so damn quickly, but I wanted more from Harper.

  A car passed, a cigarette flung out the window, the red glow of the tip the only color on the street. Harper deserved more than this. She deserved a guy from the country club who wore golf shirts and played squash on the weekends. A lawyer or some other high paying, career-driven man who could give her the lifestyle she was accustomed to.

  This? Me? A fighter from the other side of the tracks who had a record and earned his salary with his fists? As I glanced one last time out the window before driving off, I had to wonder, would I ruin her?

  12

  HARPER

  Cam: Where are you?

  My brother’s text ruined my morning. His three words had me distracted, and I offered nothing to the meeting I was in. When my colleagues had turned to me for a response, I’d offered a fake smile and blamed my lack of focus on jet lag. I had slept after I’d talked with Reed, surprisingly, but morning had come too quickly. The three cups of coffee I’d had did nothing to make me alert. But one text from Cam had my mind spinning, my heart pounding. Even if I put my head down on the table, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep.

  I refused to respond. There was no need. Cam didn’t know where I was, couldn’t touch me.

  Cam: Your apartment is dark.

  I clenched my phone when the second text came through a few hours later. We’d just returned from lunch at the nearby pub. I stood in the hallway, staring down at the words. My heart pounded so hard, it hurt. My lunch was debating whether to come back up. Cam was still in jail. I would’ve heard if he’d been released early. My mother would have called, cajoled once again in coming to her stupid party.

  No, he was still in jail. Until tomorrow.

  Then how did he know about my apartment? If he wasn’t watching it, then someone else was. Had he hired someone on the outside to spy on me? Was someone else looking for me and pestering my brother? I wouldn’t put it past the men he owed money to, and I wouldn’t put it past my brother to offer me up again. But why had I been safe before now? It had been almost two years. I shivered, cold even in my cashmere turtleneck.

  “I’m surprised you’re here after term.”

  I startled at the voice. I turned on my heel and looked up at Giles. Yes, he was handsome, his dark hair falling rakishly over his forehead, and the slight twist of his lips when he smiled was appealing. He wore a tweed coat with the patches on the elbows along with hunter green wool pants. I wasn’t sure if he fit the stereotype of an overly intelligent Englishman or a senior lecturer of arts. I thought back to when I’d gone to pick up pizza with Reed. He’d mentioned the elbow patches then and had been pretty accurate with his image of an art history professor.

  I shrugged and tried to shake off Cam’s text, but it was really hard. He had someone watching for me, and the thought that my apartment was no longer safe completely freaked me out.

  I realized Giles was waiting for me to say something. I pasted on a brittle smile. “This presentation is important to the department. I might only be a guest lecturer, but I like to help.”

  His lips turned, but his gaze drifted down my body before looking me in the eye.

  “You could be more than just a guest. You could take the job I know you’ve been offered.”

  I could and based on Cam’s latest text, the idea held more and more appeal.

  “Everyone’s going home after the presentation for the long holiday. Are you headed to the airport—” He stepped close, close enough that anyone passing would think we were more than just colleagues. “—or are you staying for a few days?”

  A few days meant time in his bed. Not just the storage closet down the hall. God, it would be so easy to take what he offered, giving myself to someone, to forget Cam and my fucked-up life. Giles was harmless. He wouldn’t hurt me. Sleeping with him would give me just what I ached for. Arms to hold me as I struggled. A sated man to know I had something to offer. The attraction between us had been enough where I’d been wet when we fucked, but not enough to come. That hadn’t been his fault. No one made me come. And no one took me to his bed.

  I thought of Reed. His bad boy looks that didn’t match the way he touched me. The way he hadn’t taken anything from me. The way he’d made me come. He was the only one to have done so.

  Giles’ fingers squeezed my shoulder, bringing me out of my thoughts. His touch was gentle but didn’t awaken me as he probably wanted. As he once had. I breathed in his crisp cologne and missed Reed’s clean scent: soap, sweat and man.

  “I’m�
�� I’m not sure yet.”

  I lied. I was staying. My return ticket was for Christmas day, but I didn’t know if I wanted to spend any of the time before then with him. I craved the thought of him touching me, of the connection I’d feel when he was inside me. I hurt, and I knew I’d be soothed, even if temporarily. I craved the thought. Not him.

  “Or.” He drew the word out, so I had to meet his gaze. Only then did he lean in, whisper, “Or we could go to one of the study rooms down the hall. They’re empty since the term is over.”

  My gaze flicked to the side corridor where there were a row of small rooms used as quiet work spaces. The building was Victorian with wood paneling and stone floors and laid out with the mindset of an 1800’s architect. The only people in the building were the lecturers and guests involved in the meeting. There were a number of places where we could go for a quickie without being seen or heard. Before I could respond, someone waved to us from down the hall, prompting our return to work. Giles sighed at the opportunity lost. Not that I was going to agree, but I had before.

  I entered the meeting room, Giles having opened the door for me. I didn’t miss the look he gave me. We weren’t done talking. I took my seat, and the discussion about the proposed foundation work picked up, but I looked down at the phone in my lap, at Cam’s latest text. I felt the anger, the frustration build again.

  This was the moment Reed was talking about. The moment when I wanted to grab Giles and drag him into a study room and fuck. I wouldn’t get off, I would only see the smile of satisfaction on his face as he tied off the used condom and tossed it in the trash. I’d feel good knowing I made him feel good, but that was it. There was nothing in it for me. No satisfaction. I’d have to wait until I was back in my hotel room to touch myself, to make myself come. Then, it would be an empty release. But I’d forget about Cam, about how he was going to be free tomorrow. If he could mess with me from jail, I could only imagine what he was going to do when he got out. Then there were my parents. He’d already pitted them against me.