The Forgotten Child by Lorhainne Eckhart (best e ink reader for manga txt) đź“•
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Emily snapped and tried to break free. But he wouldn’t let her go. “You can’t make me that promise. You can no more control what she does, than control the direction the wind’s blowing.”
He watched her in a way that, she’d swear, she could see the wheels spinning in his head.
“I’ll make sure you’re looked after and protected from any more unprovoked attacks. I’m asking you to trust me on this.” He didn’t let her answer, he pulled her closer and took what, he figured, was his. It was so like him to think the sun, the moon and the stars revolved around him. Emily wanted to hit him, to hurt him; but his deep, possessive kiss melted away the bitter hurt wreaking havoc on her sound reasoning. She sank into his kiss. It was a kiss that whispered silent promises of a future, and the fact that she was his...and then the damn kettle shrilled. She pulled away and jumped off his lap. She needed to stop plugging it in, or maybe she should thank it, as she’d used those few seconds of freedom to regain her sound mind. Maybe he knew that’s what she was doing, because he was right behind her, his heat, his hand covering hers when she yanked the plug from the outlet. Her blood pulsed harder, faster, through her. Her heart pounding harder, like the natives beating their sacred drums. His hand pressed flat against her back, smoothing its way down, over her shapely bottom fitted into her favorite pair of blue jeans, the ones that sat low on her hips. His hand moved over her, gently, and then changed to possessive and thorough touch. She faced the sink; he pressed into her and slid his arm around her waist. She could feel how much he wanted her. She moved her bottom against him just as he grabbed a handful of her thick hair hanging in gentle waves down her back. He lifted it and touched his lips to the back of her neck, her shoulders, edging his way down.
His hand slid under her shirt over her stomach, her chest, outlining her curves, a little rough then tender, but he was thorough. He covered her breast, and held her against him like a man did a simple possession. Emily leaned her head back onto his shoulder, finding it difficult to breathe. She moaned as he unclasped her bra and gave her the attention she deserved. His hands moved faster as he found each tender spot, her pants loosened. She felt outrageously erotic as she pressed against him, and then stepped out of her pants sliding past her knees, pooling around her ankles. Her strength wavered when she felt him spread her thighs with his hand. Emily’s breath hitched when she heard the jingle of his belt buckle, the zipper on his pants. “Brace yourself against the counter.” He slipped into her, tilting her hips and holding her as if they’d mated a hundred times. Her high pitch gasp escaped. It was shockingly indecent, staring out an open window, as her man covered her hand with his, laced his fingers with hers and moved inside of her as she shuddered against him, as he discovered a new spot to please her. Nothing gentle about it; pleasure met pleasure as she tightened around him. Her eyelids fluttered and she rolled her head against him; she moaned but he held on, kept going. Then he buried his face against her neck; he shouted primally, and let himself go.
Her legs trembled. She’d need a minute, maybe an hour, before she could move again. He was still inside of her, and she was momentarily shocked at how he’d taken her. If his arm wasn’t wrapped around her waist, Emily would slide to the floor.
He nuzzled her neck, her hair. “I love the way your hair smells.” He emitted a low growl in the back of his throat, and turned her around.
She didn’t mind really, the smug way his lips curved, when he curled a lock of hair around his finger, before sinking down into a kiss she supposed was to be quick and light. But he sank into it.
When he pulled back an inch, and then two, his eyes were a fine slit showing the whiskey colored twinkle behind long, dark lashes no man had a right to have. God, how she loved this man. The words jammed somewhere between her heart and head. She must have stiffened, as he traced his finger across her cheek.
“Stop thinking so much, Em.”
He scooped her up; her arms around his neck.
“What about your priorities, the things you need to take care of?”
“I’m tending to them now.” He didn’t stop; he kept going and laid her on the bed. Her mind was going fuzzy. She wrapped her arms back around his neck, and said, “What about the ranch, the animals?”
“You’re first, them later.”
And it was much later indeed. Brad drove Emily to the sitter’s to pick up Katy. He didn’t dump them and run. He stayed, he played with Katy, teased Emily, and, before leaving, he kissed her thoroughly and properly, the way a woman should be.
Let the games begin. Except, this time, Brad had the rulebook. The sun had set when Brad parked in front of his house. He didn’t move, but jingled the keys in his hand and stared at his house, his family’s house, picturing the viper waiting behind the door. He understood Emily’s ache, her pain. She never asked for any of this to happen. He almost lost her; he still could.
He slid out of his truck, shut the door and stopped on the bottom step. A man with a purpose, he headed toward the barn instead, where Cliff hunkered over some tack needing repairs.
“Hey, boss. Crystal was out here looking for you.”
Brad put everything into each step. Maybe it was the fury on his face that had Cliff swallowing hard and backing away.
Brad bunched his fists as the fury stole over him. He wanted nothing more than to knock this man around. Instead, he looked away, stole a breath, and then another. “Just what the hell did you think you were doing, telling Jake to fire Emily?”
Cliff paled. He shifted from one foot to the other. “I didn’t want to do it, boss, but Crystal told me you wanted her fired. She said you asked me to stop in and give him the message. I felt bad ’cause I like Emily, but she said it was better to be done in person and you expected me to handle it for you.”
“Are you kidding me? For fuck sakes, Cliff, that’s the dumbest thing I think I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth. Try again. Because I somehow can’t believe you’d think I’d relay a message like that through Crystal. And why didn’t you have the fucking balls to come to me to find out what the hell was going on.” Brad knew Cliff was smarter than that. His vibes poked the back of his neck. These were half-truths and he hated that bullshit.
“Before I toss your sorry ass off this ranch, I want to know something. Have you been telling Crystal what’s been going on here at the ranch?” Cliff’s cheeks suddenly took on a nice rosy hue. Guilty! Brad let loose a solid right jab that connected with Cliff’s lip, his jaw, knocking him down.
Cliff swiped away the blood trickling from his mouth, and then touched the newly loosened tooth.
Brad reached down and grabbed Cliff’s coat front, yanked him off the ground and dragged him out of the barn, giving him a hard push toward the staff house in back. “You’ve got twenty-four hours to pack up and get off my property or, I swear to God, I’ll kill you with my bare hands and make damn sure your body’s never found.”
Brad forced himself to stay where he was as Cliff stumbled to the small white-frame house he shared with Mac.
Brad fed the stock. This was Cliff’s job; he’d redistribute the workload as soon as he found someone to replace Cliff.
The clouds were thick tonight; not even a sliver of moonlight seeped through. Years ago, his eyes had adjusted to the dark. He checked doors and gates, and made sure everything was fastened and secured. The front porch light illuminated two figures on the porch. As he got closer, he could see Cliff, engaged in some heated discussion with Crystal. She stopped and backed away when she saw Brad. Cliff stepped toward her, an angry man who threw up his arms in defeat and stormed away, past Brad, jumping into his beat up, brown Chevy truck, spewing gravel as he drove away.
Brad really dug into each step. He slowed and then stopped on the bottom step when Crystal stumbled against the door. He took another step up. A faint flush tinted her cheeks and forehead before the icy glare appeared. “There’s good old Crystal; for a moment I thought you’d grown a conscience.”
She yanked on the screen door and strode back into the house.
Brad followed the woman with not even a flicker of interest in the way she sashayed to the
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