Masked Cowboy (Men of the White Sandy) (10 page)

BOOK: Masked Cowboy (Men of the White Sandy)
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Mary Beth urged Jezebel on faster, trying to dodge the hail that was now up to nickels. She didn’t know where they were going. They were nowhere near the ranch, and she hadn’t seen another sign of life in the last hour and a half. There couldn’t be anything else out here for miles.

Jacob rode through a narrow creek that was already dangerously rising as the trees bent to the will of the wind. But as they crested another hill, Mary Beth was shocked to see a small dark house tucked in a stand of pines appear out of nowhere.

“Quick!” he howled against the wind, throwing himself off Mick and racing the horse to a small lean-to against the house. Mary Beth did the same, but there wasn’t enough room or protection from the hail for all of them.

“Can we go in?” she screamed as the hail battered the tin roof.

Jacob actually paled as he seemed to debate it. But as lightning struck a nearby tree, he flipped a switch on a generator she hadn’t noticed, grabbed her hand and raced the twenty feet to the front door.

It was unlocked and he pulled her inside and slammed it against the furious elements. The wind buffeted the door, threatening to push it open again, but it held fast.

Mary Beth groped around for a second before she found the light switch. As the florescent light flickered and then hummed to life, she saw they were in a one-room cabin with one small bed against the near wall and a larger one in back. A short counter with a sink and a narrow oven encompassed the kitchen, and a sturdy farm table sat in the center of the room.

Everything was clean and neat, if covered in dust. It didn’t look like anyone had been in here for a long time.

Then she noticed the deep-brown stains covering the floor. Three distinct stains glared at her against the light pine floor. The one between the table and the small bed was huge. Between the table and the door was another large stain, and just off to her right was a smaller blot, the edges marking an irregular pool.

“Blood?” she gasped, realizing there could be nothing else that left that kind of mark. When Jacob didn’t answer her, she spun around and said it again. “Blood?”

Jacob’s terrified appearance confirmed her suspicions. He was wheezing, his one eye wild with fear as sweat beaded on his brow. The extreme panic he was caught up in led to only one possible explanation.

Jacob knew whose blood stained the floor.

“Jacob,” she said quietly as his head swung around to hers, his eye still wild in terror. She knew that look. She’d seen that look in Uncle Hank when he got to thinking about Vietnam too much. Jacob was having a flashback. “Jacob,” she said again, keeping her voice low and steady, “tell me what you see.”

“The blood—blood everywhere,” he gurgled, shaking violently.

“Tell me what happened, Jacob. Let it go,” she soothed like he was a panicked, wounded animal.

“I tried to stop it, but it slit her throat. Jesus, there was so much blood,” he cried, the pain twisting his body towards hers.

She caught him as he tried to burrow into her. “Whose blood, Jacob? Yours?”

“Susan’s. Susan died here, and I couldn’t save her. I was too late for Fred, but I thought I could save her.” He wept into her hair. “And it killed her. It laughed as it killed her, and then it came for me. Oh, God,” he sobbed as she held him up.

It came for him
? Jesus Christ, is this where he lost his face? Trying not to panic, she did her best to keep her voice calm. “I’m here, Jacob. What killed her?”

Suddenly his back went stiff and his eye furious. “You aren’t supposed to be here. No one is supposed to know about this,” he choked out as the grief transformed into rage before her eyes.

Okay, this is normal
, she tried to reassure herself as his body went steel hard against hers. Displacement. No problem. Uncle Hank used to do this too. Just a flashback.

The wind blew the door open, throwing her into his inflexible arms. He slammed her back into it, shutting the door with her body as he returned from his own personal hell. His breath was hard and fast as he stared her down, mere inches between them.

Good
, she thought.
He’s coming out of it.

But then his eye began to dart back to the bloodstain next to them.

“No, don’t go back there, Jacob,” she demanded, taking his face in her hands. “Stay with me. Just stay here with me.” She skimmed her hand over the worn leather of his mask, and the growl that sprang from deep in his chest flattened her even harder against the door.

If she could keep his attention, he wouldn’t slip back into the flashback—and her hands on his mask
definitely
had his attention. “I want to see what a man with a mask looks like underneath,” she said in a breathy whisper, relieved to have something he could focus on with exquisite, if enraged, clarity.

At least he’s not panicking
, she thought as Jacob knocked his mouth against hers so hard that her head bounced back against the door. The stiff leather nose of the mask dug into her cheek before he tilted his head a bit and shoved his tongue into her mouth. The surprising ferocity sent a thrill through her.

Okay
, she thought as she opened her mouth farther, drawing his tongue in,
if it’s distraction sex you want, it’s distraction sex you’ll get.
As she looped her leg around his, pulling him into her, she tried to touch the mask again. “I want to see,” she whispered when he pulled back, his chest heaving in an erotic rage.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he growled, grabbing both her hands and smashing them over her head. “These things are not for you to know.” With each word, he banged her hands against the door with an extra bit of force. “These things are not for you to see.”

Mary Beth supposed she should have been scared. All the times she’d been with men, she’d chosen timid, cautious guys too shy to do much but come at the third thrust. Guys she could control. Guys she could dominate. Guys she could take or leave.

But now here she was being savagely kissed by an-honest-to-God cowboy—an Indian with a mask, to boot—as if she were the enemy and sex were the weapon. He had control, at least of her body, but she still had him right where she wanted him. The combination of power and powerlessness was intoxicating. As he raked his tongue through her mouth again, Mary Beth decided she was far too excited to be scared.

“What things do you want to see, Jacob?” she growled in his ear, testing to see how firmly he held her hands as she arched her back, pushing her breasts into his chest. “What things do you want to know?”

He snarled at her as he quickly put both of her wrists in his left hand. Then the mother-of-pearl buttons on her cowgirl shirt were popping apart as he ripped through them, leaving her covered with nothing but her red silk Victoria’s Secret bra.

“You ride horses in that?” he barked, momentarily distracted by the flash of overt femininity.

“I didn’t wear it for the horses.” She wiggled one hand free and ran it through his mop of hair until she hit the patch strap. Before she could even begin to trace its path back up to his face, he growled again, grabbing her hand and completely flattening her against the door with the force of his kiss. Despite the soaked clothes, the heat rolling off him had her melting in all the best places.

“That’s right,” she panted, beginning to feel like she was losing control of the situation—of herself. “You wanted to know. You wanted to see.” He savagely grabbed one breast, expertly kneading the nipple through the silk.

Mary Beth was definitely losing control of herself as her head began to spin. No man had ever touched her like this, with this naked, aggressive need. Already, she was more turned on than she could ever remember being with any of the others. The way he pawed at her made the tingles on the top of the bluff look like child’s play. This—this was for grown-ups only.

“Yes,” she hissed as he bent his head and bit down on the silk. “Feel me. Taste me. Know me.”

“Shut up, just shut up,” he growled as he released her hands to yank her belt free and strip her pants down to her knees.

As he traced around the edge of the matching red silk panties, Mary Beth caught his face with her hands and pulled him back up to her lips. But instead of trying to get under his mask again, she slid her hands down to his belt and slid it free as she quickly undid those promising buttons.

He really
wasn’t
wearing any underwear. He was rock hard under her hands, his eye briefly rolling back into his head as she traced the length of everything he had to offer. But then that erotic rage snapped his head forward and he spun her around, pressing her into the door.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he panted as he fumbled out of his pants. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Shut up,” she demanded, spreading her legs as far as she could with her pants around her knees. “Shut up right now or I’ll rip that mask—”

She didn’t get any farther. The panties were no match for him. He burst into her, sliding all the way in, all the way up, filling her as no one and nothing ever had before. The power of the unexpected orgasm shook her like leaves on aspen, and that was just from the first thrust.


Oh
!” she moaned as she shivered from the safety of his arms.

He froze. “What?
What
? I didn’t—I thought—”

“Jesus Christ, Jacob,” she begged, “don’t stop! Oh God, please don’t stop!”

With a hungry, guttural moan, he slid in and out of her. He grabbed her hands and moved them back up the door until they were over her head again. But instead of holding them there, he traced back down the length of her arms until he came to her breasts again. He slipped his right hand under the silk cup of her left breast, kneading it with the same savage intensity he had just seconds before.

With his other hand, he followed the curve of her waist down to her hips, then over to the thick, glossy hair that covered her sex. With a flick of his thumb, he found her spot and began to rub the nub in small circles.

If he hadn’t been holding her up, she would have lost her footing as the second orgasm shook her violently. “
Oh
!” she screamed this time, unable to control herself under his maddening touches.

He growled with satisfaction behind her, pushing harder and deeper with each thrust. His hips knocked into hers so hard that her forehead was again bouncing off the door, but she didn’t care as she arched her back, driving her breast more into his hand and raising her bottom up to meet his every demand.

Then, with one final deep thrust, he froze in silence, his fingers pinching the tip of her nipple, his thumb pressing against her clit, finally surrendering to the promise of freedom she’d offered him. While he came quietly, she couldn’t help but buck in ecstasy one final time with another “
Oh
!” Suddenly, he was gone from her, leaving her barely able to stand.

“Jesus Christ, Jacob,” she gasped as she rested her slightly sore forehead against her forearm. “Jesus Christ.”

He staggered against the door beside her, his eye closed. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I just wanted you to stop talking,” he said in a rush. She looked over to him and could see that while the sex had definitely distracted him from the horror house they were in, he was still worried.

He was worried about her.

She smiled, wrapping her hand around his waist and pulling him closer so she could kiss his forehead. “Cowboy, anytime you want me to stop talking, you just let me know.”

“Didn’t anyone tell you I was the Indian?” He smirked as he turned away from her and began to button up his pants.

Mary Beth pulled what was left of her red silk panties out from between her legs and shoved them into her pocket before she pulled up her own pants. As she started to snap the buttons on her shirt, she realized he was watching her, so she turned to him and slowed down, letting her fingers linger over her curves.

“Are you sure you’re a doctor?” he asked, sounding a little pissed. The erotic part of the erotic rage had faded, leaving a mildly unpleasant post-coital grump. “They teach you that stuff at doctor school?”

The wind rushed up again, pushing the door open and knocking her back a step, but he caught her before she stepped on the bloodstain. He shot a sorrowful look at the remains of death, but he didn’t slip back into the panic. Thank God, she thought.

The door now open, they could see the storm was blowing out. It wasn’t raining anymore, and blue sky was showing behind the angry clouds rushing on to their next unfortunate destination.

 

Jacob stepped out into the rain-cleaned air, away from the horrible past he couldn’t forget and the sex he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He stood with his eye closed, letting the wind ruffle his hair. The breeze was lifting the pain from his soul, but in its place was overwhelming confusion.

God, he wished Susan were here. Susan would be able to tell him what to do about this new mess he’d just screwed his way into.

The first mess he’d screwed his way into in over eight years.

He heard Mary Beth clucking to Jezebel. “Oh, sweetie, you’re soaked,” she soothed, and Jacob couldn’t help but smile.

Even after
that
, she was still concerned with the animals.

He suspected he knew what Susan would say. Susan would arch that eyebrow of hers up and say, “If you like her, you should go after her,” just like she’d said in ninth grade right before he’d mustered up the courage to ask her to the dance.

BOOK: Masked Cowboy (Men of the White Sandy)
4.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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