Breaking A Bad Boy Read online

  She bit the corner of her mouth, retying her dress strap with a poor excuse for a bow. Why not tell him? Be honest, and if Rory was already okay with the idea of going all the way, then she’d be able to save her dad from those goons…BY HAVING SEX.

  Oh. God. I have lost my mind! She leaned over the sink, her resolve unraveling. No way to go through with this. No matter how she spun her involvement—regardless of the why—she was prostituting herself.

  Rory was wrong. There was nothing about her coming here tonight that was clean. She needed a thousand baths to wash away this type of filth and ugliness. She felt dirty, and this level of dirt went to straight the bone, sinking all the way into her marrow.

  Inside this bathroom, she suddenly felt caged. A car door slam outside and she straightened and looked around. Pinpricks of perspiration sprang up along her hairline, then more and more beads of sweat erupted as her skin felt scorched. She couldn’t breathe. She had to get some air.

  Grabbing the door handle, she twisted the knob and yanked so hard, the door slammed open, hitting the wall. It bounced back from the wall, almost knocking into her as she stormed out of the bathroom and into Rory’s chest.

  “Whoa, where’s the fire?” he asked, holding her by the shoulders as she tried to wrench away. “Careful, darlin’.”

  “Please. I gotta go,” she said in a choking voice.

  “What happened?” He didn’t release her. Instead, his hands gripped her tighter.

  “Nothing. I just don’t feel well,” she said, lifting her head and staring into his blue eyes. Mistake. Big mistake. She scrunched her eyes closed and whispered. “Just let me go.”

  “Not going to happen. Especially if you’re sick,” he said, slightly shaking her. “Open those beautiful eyes and tell me why you want to leave.”

  Slowly, she opened her eyes, encountering his unwavering stare that snapped and locked with hers. A gaze so potent—so palpable, she shuddered as though he’d crawled into her mind and she into his. “I’m not who you think I am,” she whispered. “I don’t come from a family like yours. With your brothers and parents who act normal. Reasonable. I wish I did, but I don’t. Go find a girl who you can trust.”

  “Check that off your laundry list, little girl ‘cause I did. A long time ago.”

  Feeling her heart splinter and burst apart at his words—his touch—their love… she had to leave. She blinked against the rising tide of tears, threatening to overrun and drown her.

  “That girl is long gone,” she said in a broken whisper, and went to move past him. Rory just laughed, holding her in place. The sound rumbled deeper in his chest than usual, and it wasn’t the kind she was accustomed to hearing from him. This was primal.

  “I don’t want you to go. Sommer, you’re so far into me—part of me. I love you. Since the moment I saw you, and it wasn’t in high school. That’s only when I had the sense to tell you. No, I’ve loved you way back since we were little. Too young to know it, but I did. I have loved you for longer than I haven’t. That won’t ever change. Baby, trust me and tell me what’s wrong.” His blue eyes gleamed like molten glass, and the totality of what she’d brought to Rory’s new home, the one she’d almost christened with him, was completely unforgivable.

  “I do trust you,” she said, flashing him a pleading look. “You deserve better.” Oh God. What had she done by agreeing to seduce him and opening the door for Mike… worse, for Carlo? That man was a criminal. He had a gun!

  If Carlo believed for a second there was a connection between her and Rory, he’d draw a line toward him and try something. Exactly as he’d done with her. Carlo would always find another mark who he’d draw into his horrible web of clearing a debt. Someone who he’d threaten with the knowledge that if they didn’t act, then the retribution was on them. From what she could tell, Mike hadn’t divulged his little gambling scheme to his so-called partner. Some form of animosity lay between Mike and Carlo. She’d witnessed it, but didn’t understand the basis. Those two weren’t the brightest crayons in the box—cogs in a gambling wheel scheme. But they were part of a plan—a god-awful plan she had to get free of. But how?

  Rory had earned a lot on teams that were a sure thing. What had he done? Brokered points. Maybe she could do the same thing. By betting against herself…or betting against him. She was part of this equation on so many levels. But how to turn the situation around so it doesn’t work against Rory or me?

  “Don’t leave,” he said, tipping her chin upward. “Pretend I’m wearing the apron and kiss me.”

  She craned her neck, not wanting to hold back from him, but knowing that one kiss was the gateway. One kiss, and she wouldn’t be able to resist him. “I can’t do that.”

  “Sure you can,” he murmured softly and lowered his head, running his jaw against her cheek. “You smell so incredible. Just one taste.”

  “Oh good Lord, you’re not playing fair.” She panted audibly, curling her fingers over his developed forearms. He knew her. Understood her. Could write a book about her…about what turned her on. Their connection was beyond haptic—their emotional link was hardwired into her brain. “Deeper!” A voice seemed to whisper. He runs in my blood.

  She dug her fingers into his arms, desperate to convince him to let her go, but also to make him understand how much he meant to her. “Rory, I love you with all my heart.”

  “I know that,” he growled into her ear and pushed his hips against hers as his lips ghosted over her jaw, coming closer to her mouth. “I’m not going demand anything from you…I just want you to give me what I asked for. One kiss.”

  “And nothing more?” she asked, wanting to believe it was all that simple.

  “Yes.” He replied, his bare chest rising and falling in front of her.

  She rose up on her tippy toes, moving her hands and holding onto Rory’s waist, and pressed her mouth to his. Warm, wet, and so achingly memorable, she crushed her breasts to his chest, longing to bring them heart-to-heart. Their lips fused, opening and insistent. The sweep of his tongue into her mouth, his hands on her body, and his cock nudging her belly—everything he did began to dissolve her resolution.

  “Sommer,” he hissed into her mouth, moving his hands to her hips and drawing her to him. “I love you. Now, let me make love to you, baby.”

  Rory pressed his cock against her mound and she gasped at the erotic burst of pleasure he unleased with one swipe. He pumped his hips, holding her to him, and giving her a sample of what he intended. Suddenly her resolve, shattered. All of it. Hunger unleashed. Hard to resist him—oh hell, it was impossible.

  “Give yourself to me,” he whispered his demand against her lips, as his fingers lifted her dress. “Tonight, let me make love to you. All. The. Way.”

  Her body felt on fire. She rubbed her hands up miles of his ripped muscle, twitching dips and valleys, enticing under her fingertips. He walked them to the wall, pressing himself into her, as he grunted his desire into her mouth. She moaned, sucking his tongue and arching under his hands that he rubbed down from her hips. Lower, he swept his fingers over her mound and downward, as she opened her legs, granting him access to her.

  Rory’s touch tangled her thoughts into a tumbling whirlwind. She grappled, unable to define what was right or wrong, good or bad, when the only thing that mattered was letting go, and getting him inside her. She’d waited—he’d waited—wasn’t it time?

  He tugged on the elastic of her thong, allowing cool air to swim over where she throbbed to feel his fingers…his tongue…his cock. She moaned, arching against him. “Please,” she whimpered and he groaned in response.

  “Open your legs wider, baby. I want you wrapped around me. Tonight, I’m going to sink into you so hard, and for so long.” His finger swiped down her swollen sex and her hips jerked at his touch. Sparks of pleasure shot through her body, hotter and deeper as he rubbed up over her clit. He didn’t pause to tease her. Holy mother. He grazed his finger downward to her opening, and without stopping, Rory thrust his lo
ng finger inside her. All the way.

  Slowly, he withdrew his finger, hoisting her body upward, making her cry out his name. “Please, Rory. I need you.” She lifted her leg higher, hooking her foot around his thigh, so ready to implode from his touch.

  “I’m going to give you what you need.” Definitely on track in feeding her frenzy, Rory skimmed his finger along her skin, proving he wasn’t about to keep her tormented for much longer.

  He plunged his fingers back inside, tantalizing her with not one but two of his strong, long fingers. Stretching her, he bit the side of her neck, nipping her skin and pumping his hand. She molded to him as he rubbed his erection against her, enticing her to give into him completely. Her body was melting into shimmering sensations. He pressed his thumb to her clit expertly, just how she needed him, and she started to splinter.

  His voice wafted outward, a low rasp and he commanded her, “Ride me. Like this, and then on my cock.”

  Without mercy, he pumped his fingers hard into her, adding a twist, and the coiled knot in the pit of her belly began to unravel, spreading outward in tendrils of tingling pleasure. Waves of bliss washed over her, wrecking her, and if she didn’t stop, right now, she’d drown.

  Her dreams would splinter.

  Their love would die.

  “I can’t,” she panted, her body clenching in need. Demanding. Aching to know what the heck she was doing. “Not like this. You were right. We should wait.”

  “Sommer,” he said her name in a low rumble, pressing his forehead against hers as his hard-on prodded her belly.

  She pushed her palms against him, moving her chest away from his—not all the way, but enough to lean back and stare up into his eyes. “Please don’t be angry with me.”

  “Sugar, do you really want me to stop?” he asked, lifting his head and meeting her stare. His pupils were fully dilated and his nostrils flared.

  “No, but right now…yes. I know that doesn’t make sense. I’m not making sense.” Her body screamed yes, while her mind bullied her to stand strong.

  He removed his hand from between her legs. “All you have to say is ‘No’ and that’s enough.” A vein pulsed in his neck. So rapidly, she couldn’t keep track of the vibrations.

  “I need to leave. Need to be alone.” She hated having to do this to him—hurting him without reason or explanation. Her brain buzzed from unspent adrenaline, worse in seeing his blue eyes cloud. If she stayed, she’d lose him; only a blind idiot could deny how their evening would end.

  Her only recourse was to leave and try to figure out a plan. Somehow, she had to come up with the money. Then she’d come clean and tell him. Afterward.

  “Sugar, you’re not the type who aborts a scene without a reason.” Rory said, towering over her. “Tell me what’s going on. Talk to me, Sommer.”

  She raised her palms in front of herself, shaking her head vehemently. “I’m not running away—I’m refusing to give in. I’m confused, and need to think. That’s all. My timing sucks. But that’s it. Please, if you love me. Let. Me. Go.”

  “Let me drive you home at least,” he said in a strained voice. “I won’t say a word. Don’t go alone.”

  “I’m fine to drive.” Her eyes stung and her voice quavered. She glanced away from Rory, blinking. She had to get out of the trailer. If she began to cry, he’d never let her go. That wasn’t his way. She quickly turned and ducked out of his grasp, down the hall. Not easy running in heels. Damn them!

  “Sommer!” Rory called out, his voice a cutting reminder of who and what she’d left behind her.

  She picked up her purse and dug inside for her keys. At the door, she stopped. Rory was so close that his breath caressed her shoulder. Her whole body trembled and she fought the overarching urge to face him, look him in the eyes…not run away.

  Gripping the doorknob, she held back from turning around—afraid one look and she’d not be able to leave. Closing her eyes, she whispered, “I’ll text you when I get home.”

  “Baby, you are home,” he replied. “But I won’t stop you from going. Just come back to me. Promise me.”

  Rory surprised her that he hadn’t reached out to her, and for that she was grateful.

  “I promise,” she said, opening her stinging eyes and the front door. Without waiting another second, she rushed outside into the night air, blinking and choking back a sob.

  “Sommer, let me walk you…” Rory said, following her out of the trailer.

  “Don’t,” she exhaled, so close to stopping and explaining. She had to go. Had to get away. Racing down the front steps, she skirted over the uneven ground toward her car.

  She sucked in a breath then another as the tears began to swell, only to fall down her cheeks. A river that refused to lessen as she climbed into her car, and gunned the engine. Her torrent of emotions rose precariously, near to overflowing as she backed out from his dirt driveway, shielded from view by his truck.

  But the abysmal punch to her gut came, when she turned her car onto the road and saw Rory standing beside his truck. His head bowed slightly and he didn’t move. Just stood there, staring at her, when everything in her screamed to return to him. Not to leave him like this, and it was then that her grief spun out of control.

  The dam burst.

  Sobbing, she shifted her car into first, and floored the gas. Then shifted into second and third, racing past his parents’ home, and the barns, the outbuildings, and finally under the Evermore Ranch sign. Never had leaving a place been this difficult—but she wasn’t just leaving a place. As she drove away, she’d left her heart behind, and prayed that Rory somehow understood what she’d done wasn’t meant to hurt him and that he’d eventually forgive her.

  WATCHING Sommer drive away, Rory swore and turned around. Slamming his hands on the hood of his truck, he took several deep breaths. His heart battered a fierce and furious beat and felt like a beast ready to claw its way out of his chest. The score he had to settle couldn’t wait. He’d be damned if he’d sit around while Mike was fucking over Sommer’s father, and in turn entangling her in this mess.

  He closed his eyes, seeking to locate an iota of strength to calm the hell down, but envisioning Sommer’s sad amber eyes darkening in pain had him clenching his jaw. The image of her face filled his imagination, and was almost too much to bear.

  “Fuck!” he yelled.

  Alone out here, standing under a million glittering stars, and watching her leave felt altogether wrong. He’d made a mistake and shouldn’t have pushed her so hard. That was his MO—being forceful and hardheaded. Aware of how upset Sommer was when she left, he wasn’t about to wait around. He had to go to her, make her understand that he was here for her. Only her. Help her through this jam without making her suffering worse.

  Trudging back inside, he encountered the quilt and their untouched picnic. “Damn. Fucking damn!” he swore, kneeling and scooping up the things Sommer had brought. He stowed the food in the refrigerator and went to his bedroom. Opening his closet, he trained his focus on a pair of jeans on the shelf and a T-shirt hanging on a hook. He grabbed both and changed.

  With his clothes on and his head screwed back in place, he picked up the apron Sommer had discarded, walked outside, and toward his truck; at the same time a pair of headlights blinded him. He held his hand up, before his face, squinting to make out whose truck was now parked behind his.

  The lights cut. “Matt, move,” he yelled, recognizing the truck. “I’m fixing to hit the road.”

  Not one truck door opened but two, and he faced the pair of silhouettes of cowboy-hatted men who walked collectively toward him.

  “Wash the war paint off your face,” Matt said accompanied by Brandon.

  “Don’t you two have lives besides riding my ass?” Rory snarled.

  “Not until this is settled, we don’t,” Brandon replied. “We’re not getting Stephen involved because he has the tendency to act alone. So don’t mention anything to him until we get a handle on this.”

  “So
mmer left,” he said. “Upset, and I need to find her.”

  Brandon countered with, “I saw her leave as Mia and I were coming back from Mom and Dad’s.”

  Did you two fight?” Matt asked, exchanging a look with Brandon.

  “How much do you know?” Rory asked.

  “Enough to be concerned that you’re going to do something you’ll regret, where Mike is concerned. Don’t. He’s wrong. No argument, but he isn’t some shitkicker from nowheresville,” Matt relayed.

  “He’s gonna be sorry he started anything with Sommer,” Rory said in a low voice, knowing if he showed any countermoves that suggested he was out of control, his two older brothers would hogtie him, rather than let him leave and get into trouble. That’s what he should have done to Sommer. His mistake. Next time…fuck him flying! There wouldn’t be a next time ‘cause he wouldn’t let her go.

  “That jackass can talk the legs off a chair. I’ll give him that, but like Brandon explained to me, he’s got a partner. Not the kind from around here. Rory, when I spent four years in New York going to college, I met all sorts of people. There are certain types of people you don’t fuck around with. They don’t go down and disappear easily, since someone comes back to take their place. And what’s happening to Sommer and her family can happen to a whole lot of people here. We can’t take on that type of storm and win without staying cool.”

  “What do you mean? We should just let them do what they want. To Sommer?”

  “Hell no. I’m not talking about just us or Sommer. I’m talking about Annona,” Matt spoke in a deep voice, pushing up the brim on his hat. “We’ll deal with this situation, but we can’t—we won’t shoot from the hip.”

  “Rory, we talked about it with Miller,” Brandon said. “He’s on track and will find out who the hell Mike really is and who he’s involved with. Only after we know that can we make provisions on what to do and who to reach out to. According to Miller, there are a couple of routes to take. We’ll know more tomorrow.”

  “I’m not holing up here while Sommer’s out there,” Rory said, pointing toward the road.