lori king rough ride romeo (23 page)

BOOK: lori king rough ride romeo
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cart was laden with various foods, but since she hadn’t selected anything it was a

surprise to find several of her favorites included.

She looked up at him and found him smiling at her. “You’ve been talking to

Marilyn.”

“Guilty as charged. Come on, eat up and then you can spill your deep

thoughts if you want. I might not be a deep thinker, but I’m a pretty good

listener.”

Leaning across the table, she kissed him gently and murmured, “I’d rather

do something other than think.”

To her surprise he pulled back instead of readily agreeing to her invitation.

“Maybe later, but right now, I’m starving.”

They ate peacefully, but she couldn’t get it out of her mind. Was he already

deciding he’d taken on too much with her? Her brain and heart were in disarray

and she struggled to follow the television show he’d turned on.

When the TV ficked off, her head jerked up, startled. Roman sat across

from her watching her intently. “Tell me.”

She shook her head.

“If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I can’t fix it.”

His words irritated her for some reason. “Can you bring my sister back to

life?”

He let out a big sigh and leaned forward steepling his fingers in front of him

but staying quiet. His silence only bugged her more.

“Can you turn back the clock a few months for me? Maybe tell me how

much of a clusterfuck my life was going to turn into? No, of course not. No one

can fix what’s wrong.”

“I can’t turn back time, or bring her back and you know it, but if I could,

I’m not sure I would.”

She finched like he’d slapped her and jumped to her feet, rage rushing

through her.

“What?”

Roman stayed frozen in place, hands resting in front of him as though

nothing could faze him, and said, “The only reason I met you is because Vivi was

kidnapped. As much as I hate the fact that something bad brought you to me, I

wouldn’t change it for the world.”

The wind rushed out of her like an empty sail and she stumbled trying to

resume her seat. If that wasn’t a declaration of love she didn’t know what was.

Roman continued to speak, and she tried to focus on what he was saying.

“I’ve spent the last year running away from the mistake I made, and before that, I

hid behind bad decisions so that I didn’t have to admit that I came from an

abusive home. I avoided commitment like the plague out of fear that I would

somehow turn into my father, and the man who was actually a good father to me,

I let down! So I know what guilt feels like.”

Franki’s lungs felt tight, and her heart was racing in her chest. Maybe he

really did know what she was going through.

“But baby, somehow, some way, you came all the way from Minnesota to

North Dakota and we stumbled into each other.”

“You wrecked Hal,” she whispered.

“Fine, I stumbled into you. Either way, who would have ever guessed that we

would end up together after that?”

“Not me!” she said firmly shaking her head.

“Me either. I wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you, but I figured

you wouldn’t give me the time of day after that. When you asked for my help, I

would have ripped my own heart out for you in that moment just to ease your

pain, and when we found out about Vivi...”—he paused, swal owing hard—“...it

felt like that’s actually what happened. I saw it all through new eyes. The guilt,

and the grief. All I want is to be there for you.”

She met his eyes and couldn’t let go of his gaze. His emotions were so strong

that his hazel eyes were a melted gold color. He reached for her hand, and kissed

her knuckles.

“I need to know that you’re not going anywhere,” he said softly, stealing her

breath.

It was exactly what she’d wanted to hear, but never expected. He wanted to

keep her.

“You want me?”

“With all my heart.”

“Even though I can be a bitch sometimes, and I don’t really like crowds

much, and I’m scared to death of horses, so I have no idea how I’m going to live

on a ranch, and I get lost in my computer sometimes and forget to eat, or sleep,

and I squeeze the toothpaste from the middle, and sometimes—”

“No matter what,” he said, interrupting her spinning brain. “I can be an ass

sometimes, and I’m okay with staying at home when you don’t want to go out. I’l

teach you all about horses so that you’re not scared of them, and if necessary

we’l take one of the guest houses on the far end of the ranch so that you don’t

need to be near them. When you get lost in your computer I’ll bring you a

sandwich, and coax you to bed with me. I don’t care about the toothpaste as long

as you hang the toilet paper roll the right direction.” She giggled, and shook her

head at his silly response. “Francesca Scott I want you. From now until forever.

No matter how rough the ride is, I want you there with me.”

“I love you, Roman Freemont.”

They came together in a spiraling torrent of desire and love. Later Franki

could have sworn that they’d brought the hotel crashing to the ground with their

violently passionate lovemaking. But the world kept spinning, and life kept

moving around them. And in the hotel room, guilt, grief, and forgiveness all

turned into love.

The End

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Weekend Surrender

By: Lori King

Chapter One

Rachel slammed the closet door behind her as she emerged dressed in her

sexiest, country cutie clothes. Her stonewashed blue denim miniskirt barely

covered the bottom curves of her ass cheeks. It was paired with a man’s red and

blue plaid dress shirt, and the shirttails were tied just under her perky B-cup

breasts. She left the buttons open so her tits were clearly visible rising out of the

top of her blood-red satin pushup bra.

Her tanned midsection was completely bare except for the crystal belly ring

that dangled in her belly button. From the back she knew the view would be of

the half dollar size daisy tattoo she had gotten when she turned eighteen, just

above the top of her black belt. The hand-tooled leather was clasped between

her hips bones, with a large belt buckle in the shape of a star. On her feet were a

pair of black cowboy boots with silver embellishments, and her long, slim legs

were bare.

She was dressed to kill with every intention of causing a few heart attacks

tonight. Her chestnut brown hair hung down to the middle of her back in large

wavy curls, and she ran her fingers through it carelessly as she walked.

Her makeup was applied with precision so her oversized chocolate brown

eyes were nearly as prominent as her blood-red lips. She had always hated the

fullness of her lips, but men seemed to love them. Mitch always called them dick

sucking lips.

She hated Mitch now.

Mitch deserved Connie Sanders. The bleach blonde tramp had been trying

to sink her claws into Mitchell Edwards for more than six months, and she had

finally gotten her way.
Well screw them both
. If plastic boobs, and a spray-on tan

was what Mitch got off on, then he deserved Connie.

Rachel was going to go out and find a man to fuck her heartbreak away.

She wanted raw, dirty, raunchy sex. Not the soft, gentle missionary sex Mitch

seemed to favor. She wanted to be shoved against a wall, or held down by her

wrists as a large muscular man devoured her completely. That’s why she created

this plan.

It was a Friday night, and that meant a packed house at Robin’s, the local

bar that Rachel had waited tables at through college. She had met Mitch there,

and he would no doubt be there tonight playing darts with his cronies, while

Connie giggled and preened over a watered down margarita. So in order to

prove to the world that Rachel Lia Morgan was completely and utterly over her

ex-boyfriend, she was going on the prowl on his turf.

There were usually dozens of hot men at Robin’s on the weekends. All of

the local ranchers and ranch hands from the outskirts of Stone River usual y hit

the bar on Friday night looking for some action. Never before had Rachel

considered indulging in a one-night stand, but tonight was her night.

She spritzed a little bit of her favorite perfume on her throat, and then

grabbed her small purse. On her way out the door she noticed her cell phone

was blinking with a missed message. She climbed into her silver Ford F150 as she

hit the play message button.

“Rach, I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I want to apologize. I didn’t

mean for you to find out about Connie like that…Rach? Please call me so we can

talk this out. You can’t just throw two years out the window. I made a mistake,

damn it—”

The voice clicked off as she hit the delete button, and dropped her phone

back into her purse. Mitch could beg and plead all he wanted, but she had

already made her peace with their breakup. She wasn’t interested in his excuses

anymore. She turned the volume up on her truck radio, so Miranda Lambert’s

tune “Mama’s Broken Heart” blared out the windows into the night, and headed

toward her freedom.

The bar’s parking lot was packed with work trucks. With exception of only

a handful of cars that probably belonged to the female patrons of the bar.

Rachel backed her truck into a small parking stall at the back edge of the lot,

right next to a black Dodge Ram Quad Cab that looked like it had rolled off the

lot and onto the ranch just a few hours ago. Realizing she had parked rather

close to the truck, she carefully opened her door, and slipped out into the small

space.

A large masculine hand covered hers, where it rested on the top edge of her

truck door, and she gasped.

“Sunshine, if you nick my new truck with your door, I’m going to have to

spank that cute little ass raw.” The voice in her ear sent a shiver over her skin,

and she fushed at his words.

She turned her head to see who was behind her that would have any right to

speak to her like that, and she nearly groaned out loud when her brown eyes met

those of Parker Brooks. Parker Brooks was one of the four Brooks brothers who

owned Brooks Pastures-a local cattle ranch. The four brothers shared two things

in common, their love of ranching, and their smoking hot good looks. Dark hair,

dark eyes, long lean muscular cowboy bodies, al tucked up under a cowboy hat.

It made Rachel’s blood sing just thinking about the four of them.

Holding her breath she dropped her gaze from his dark eyes down to his

sexy mouth, and she felt her own tongue dart out to wet her lips unconsciously.

His raised eyebrow told her that he noticed, and she shook her head slightly to

clear her lust fogged brain.

“I’m sorry, Parker. I did park a little close there, but no worries, I was

careful,” she said with a smile she hoped would distract him from the increase in

her breathing, and the rise and fall of her breasts.

It clearly didn’t work, because his eyes shifted from her lips directly down the

front of her shirt, and then they dragged lower. His gaze drifted from her golden

colored abs, down to her booted feet, and then he reached out and tugged her

hand free of the truck door. Surprised, she followed his lead when he turned her

around so her back was to him again. A long, low whistle had goose bumps

forming on her arms, but the finger stroking over her tattoo in the small of her

back was what had her creaming her panties.

“Holy shit, sunshine. Who let you out of the house dressed like that?” he

asked in a gravelly rough voice that nearly knocked Rachel’s knees out from

underneath her.

The meaning of his question sunk in, and her irritation overcame her libido.

“Last I looked in the mirror I was a grown woman, cowboy. I don’t need

anyone’s permission or approval of my wardrobe.”

Parker let her go when she tugged her hand out of his. She slammed her

truck door and started to move out from between the two vehicles. “You might

be grown up, but wearing a skirt like that is asking for trouble.”

She paused and looked back over her shoulder. “Maybe that’s exactly what I

wanted,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

His slow, sexy smile made her mouth go dry, and she swallowed hard. “If

you want trouble, little girl, all you need to do is ask.”

Trying to cover up her nerves at his deliberately seductive invitation, she

snorted out a laugh, “If I decide I want your kind of trouble, I won’t need to

ask.” Tossing her hair back over her shoulder, she headed for the door of the bar.

Before she could pull it open, a large hand reached around her for the door

handle, and another equally large hand settled on her hip. Whipping her head

violently, ready to give Parker Brooks a piece of her mind, she froze in place when

it was his brother, Hudson’s face only inches from hers.

“Hey, honey,” he said with a quick smile, and a wink, “Let me get the door

for you.”

“Thanks, Hudson,” she responded, sighing with relief that that was all he

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