Nash: A Rough Romance by Piper Stone (book series for 12 year olds txt) 📕

from the pressure he used. A few seconds later, he tossed the plastic into the fire, snorting as the sizzling sound erupted over the cracking of the wood. “I’m no hero. Make certain you understand that.”

I remained quiet, completely thrown by his statement. “Do you mind if I ask your real name?”

He eyed me as if trying to figure out why I’d ask him the question in the first place. “Nash. Nash Carter.”

“You’re really from Montana?”

“We’re making small talk now?”

He asked the question with such vehemence I shrank back even further. “I just wanted to get to know you.”

“To make sure I’m not a killer? Well, I am, just likely not in the same way you’re talking about.”

I leaned forward, longing to actually take his hand into mine. Why? He was nobody to me, but I sensed he was in a very bad place. “Soldiers are sometimes required to perform actions that they wouldn’t ordinarily consider when they’re faced with enemies. You did what you were tasked to do and I’m sure you did it admirably.”

“As if you would know.”

“I may be just an intruder to you, but I might know a few things.”

“Oh, yeah?” he challenged. “How? From some glossy bullshit movie you’ve seen? All crap if you ask me.”

“My brother was in the army. Okay? He died in the line of duty, so maybe I do know a thing or two.”

His eyes opened wide and he sucked in his breath, finally exhaling a good ten seconds later. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I was very young when it happened. I didn’t completely understand until years later. However, my mother told me stories, making certain I knew just how heroic my brother’s actions were. You are a hero whether you want to accept the role or not.”

“Ask the innocent people in Afghanistan. Ask my buddies. Hell, ask certain members of the press. They’re likely to tell you something different.”

“I don’t believe that.” My words surprised even me.

He locked eyes with mine, his full of the kind of cold darkness that I’d seen in Giordani, but the two men were entirely different. One laced with evil, the other with guilt. What in the hell had happened to the man?

“Why the long beard?”

My question seemed to break the ice. A different shimmer occurred in his eyes as he rubbed his fingers through his beard. “For years I followed every rule, including a strict dress code. When I left a few months ago, I no longer had to follow anyone’s regulations.”

“You’ve been here for months?”

He shot me a look that said I was pushing. “I traveled in Europe for a few weeks before coming here. If you gotta know, I’ve been here for a couple weeks.”

“All alone. No friends? No family?”

“Jesus, Mitch. Do you need my life’s story or are you just trying to get out of talking to me?”

“Is it a crime to want to know?”

“No, I guess not. Montana is where I grew up. I came back here to figure out what the hell I’m going to do with my life. I have some family, a few buddies who already returned, but I have no desire to see them at this point.” he said, every word calculated and noncommittal. “And why the fuck am I bothering to tell you anything?”

Another wave of sadness washed over him. I was shocked how much my heart ached for the man. I didn’t even know Reaper was telling the truth, and I seriously doubted he was going to allow me to learn much else even if it was. “I like the beard.”

He chuckled, his eyes flashing as he looked at me. No, as he looked through me. “Now that you know I’m not a serial killer, start talking.”

Another wave of discomfort forced my heart to pitter-patter. Just admitting what had gone on was disturbing. Trust. You can trust him.

“I just… I can’t. Okay?” It was obvious I wasn’t ready to trust anyone.

When he stood slowly, I was drawn immediately to the fact he’d placed his hands on his belt buckle.

Swallowing hard, a blanket of warmth shot up from my neck to my cheeks, my entire body trembling all over again. “What are you doing?”

“Removing my belt just in case it becomes necessary to remind you who’s in charge.”

I realized I’d opened and closed my mouth at least twice, resisting challenging him on his actions. I couldn’t take my eyes off the way he tugged the thick piece of leather through his belt loops. The bastard was taking his sweet time in doing so. Fuck him. He wasn’t my daddy. The word brought another wave of anguish cutting into my stomach.

“And when I cage you, you’re going to call me Daddy.”

I’d never forget the words the monster had issued outside the courtroom.

I looked away yet out of the corner of my eye, I couldn’t help but notice the way Reaper placed the belt onto the coffee table, just within reach. He sat back down, giving me a hard look.

“You’re horrible and I wasn’t trying to kill you earlier,” I muttered.

“Then who exactly were you trying to kill?”

Huffing, I looked away. “Nobody.”

“If you’re not a criminal, then that means someone is after you. What’s the reason you ran so far away from home?”

“I have my reasons. Can we leave it at that?”

“Not good enough.”

“Why are you so damn interested? I’m not going to steal anything from you.”

“Because if you’re in danger, I deserve to know what I’m dealing with.” He cocked his head, waiting for my answer.

A moment of tension shifted between us, the sound of the wood sizzling in the fireplace almost surreal.

“That’s it. Time to jog your memory.” He was on his feet, snapping his hand around my wrist before I could yelp.

“No. No!” When he sat down, pulling me over his lap at the same time, I wiggled just as I’d done before, instantly rewarded with his hard cock pressing against my stomach.

He yanked at the shirt, dragging it up to my waist then