Live for Me (Hallow Ranch)

Chapter Nineteen

Beau

“Pop, what are you doing here?” I asked, shutting the front door of the cabin behind me. I’d only been asleep for a few minutes before I heard a horse outside. I shot up from the bed, shoved my legs into my jeans, my feet into my boots, grabbed my pistol, and went downstairs.

My father’s eyes were wide in the pale moonlight as he stood in front of the porch steps. When he didn’t answer, I moved to him, my body on alert. “Pop,” I called out gently. “What’s going on?”

He was still in the same clothes from yesterday, looking frazzled as his hat hung by his side. “Son,” he pushed out, his voice shaking. “We have to talk.”

“Who’s hurt?” I demanded, my brows snapping together. “Did something happen? What’s going on?”

He shook his head. “About Abbie, Son. It’s about Abbie.”

My spine straightened, my bares shoulders tensing. “What about her?”

In the distance, a twig snapped, and both of our heads whipped in that direction. My gun was raised instantly, keeping my eyes on the darkness within the trees.

“That better not be the fucking bear y’all have been dealing with,” Pop muttered. “I don’t have time for that right now.”

“Maybe next time, tell the bear to be more considerate and work around your schedule,” I clipped, narrowing my eyes as something moved about twenty feet in front of me. Another twig snapped. “Get in the house, Pop.”

My old man put his hat on and pulled out his gun. “Not a chance in hell, boy.”

We stood there for what felt like hours, guns pointed at something we couldn’t see. Then, Mags emerged from the trees dressed in hunter’s gear with his face painted, a gun on his shoulder. The tension in my shoulders dissipated. Instead of his usual cowboy hat, he was wearing a black beanie. “He’s gone,” he declared gruffly.

“How often do you take midnight strolls in hunter’s gear, Mags?” I asked slowly, lowering my gun.

He stepped further into the moonlight. “Denver wanted me to track the bear.”

“I thought the Wildlife Warden was handling that,” Pop said.

“He was supposed to show up today, and he didn’t,” I explained. “According to his team, he was out of the office dealing with a personal matter.”

“Christ,” my father swore before looking at Mags. “If you kill it, you’ll have to take it somewhere off the ranch.”

“Not going to kill a bear, Jigs,” Mags returned calmly. “I’m just tracking it.”

“And you’re certain it’s a male?” I pressed.

He nodded once before his eyes shifted back to my father. “You tell him yet?”

“I was just about to,” Pop admitted.

“What the fuck is going on?” I quipped, looking back and forth between both of them. Why in the hell did Mags know something about Abbie I didn’t?

“This afternoon, I went to speak with her, Beau,” Pop began, raising his hands. “I just wanted to see if I could get some answers.”

My jaw tightened to the point of pain. “Why in the hell would you do that?”

“Because that woman is still in love with you.” This came from Mags.

My eyes sliced over to him, but I said nothing, grinding my teeth.

“Beau, look at me,” Pop ordered softly. He didn’t start speaking again until I did. “Abbie didn’t leave you because of you. She didn’t leave you because of her, either.”

A chill crawled up my back, my chest twinging painfully. “What did she tell you?”

“It’s not what she said. It’s how she acted.”

I looked to the cabin, tipping my head back to focus on her bedroom window. An owl hooted in the distance, and I was silent for some time, my mind racing. When I finally looked back to Mags and Pop, my voice was thick as I asked, “What are you saying?”

Pop’s eyes lifted to her bedroom window as he twisted his hands in front of him, trying to find the right words. “Why did Abbie leave me, Pop?”

His eyes met mine just before he shattered my world.

“Someone forced her to leave you, Son. Someone threatened her.”

I stared down at my wildflower, covered in moonlight and curled up in her sleep. Her dark lashes were resting on her cheeks, her lips parted, her breathing steady. The sound calmed me as I watched her body rise and fall with each breath. She was asleep on her side, facing the window, her knees bent, the quilt pulled over her shoulder. Her brown hair was tied in a bun at the top of her head.

Mags and my father left an hour ago, and as the weight of my father’s theory settled on top of my soul, it started to crush all the things I thought I knew.

I thought I hadn’t been good enough for her. I thought that, somewhere along the way, she’d fallen out of love with me. Hell, I’d even thought that maybe it was her own self-loathing that drove her away from me in the end.

Her being threatened never crossed my mind. Here I was, six years later, mentally kicking myself in the gut for not thinking of it sooner. The idea of her still loving me felt like a dream, one I was eager to make a reality but nothing about my father’s theory made sense. He told me about the conversation he had with her on the porch earlier, before I brought her to the cabin. He told me about her behavior, the emotions in her eyes, her confession.

“She didn’t mean to say that, Beau. I pushed her too hard, and she let it slip,” Pop said earnestly. “I’m telling you, on my own soul, Son, something isn’t right. Her hand was forced six years ago. That’s why she left you.”

When they left, I stood outside in the moonlight for a few minutes, the cool night air stretching across my bare chest and abs as I tried to get a grip on my emotions. Part of me wanted to barge into her bedroom and demand answers, but the other part of me just wanted to lay eyes on her, to watch her sleep because it was the only time she was ever truly at peace, even when we were together. Abbie wanted to take on the world, wielding only her pen, always fighting and challenging the evil of this life. She used to tell me how she dreamed of exposing the truth in her news articles.

Would she ever expose the truth to me?

After watching her for a few more moments, I reached out, brushing my finger across her temple, moving the stray hair out of her face. She shifted then, a soft moan coming from her as she laid on her back, stretching her legs out.

“You leave me to protect me, baby?” I asked, leaning over her, studying her face. “Or did you leave to protect yourself?” Of course, I didn’t get an answer. Abbie was a deep sleeper, always had been since she moved out of her mother’s trailer.

Unable to help myself, my hand cupped her face, and she nuzzled into it. “You still love me, don’t you, gorgeous?” I murmured, brushing my thumb across her softness.

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, but they were still heavy with sleep. “Beau?”

I pressed my free hand into the mattress by her shoulder. “Hey, Wildflower,” I whispered, my face over hers.

Her hand slowly wrapped around my wrist, her touch electrifying. Her next words were barely above a whisper, spoken like a secret. “I love it when you call me that.”

My eyes dropped to her lips. “Know that,” I returned, just as soft. I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be in here. I should be out there, searching for answers. Instead, I was hovering over her, wanting nothing more than to kiss her. To taste her. To make up for lost time. Slowly, I lifted my eyes back up to hers. “Know everything about you, baby. Inside and out.”

She nodded, her eyes shining as her bun shifted on the pillow. “You’re the only person who does,” she admitted, her voice cracking. I said nothing as she reached up to touch my face, her fingers trailing the line of my jaw. “Even in my dreams, you feel real.”

Stiffening, I pushed out, “You think this is a dream?”

Her hand on my face shifted then, and she hooked her arm around the back of my neck, pulling herself up. “I only get to kiss you in my dreams, Beau.” Her lips brushed against mine, and I jerked back.

This was wrong.

She thought she was still sleeping.

My wildflower whimpered against me. “Kiss me, Beau. Kiss me like you do every night. Make me forget.”

With a low growl in my throat, my arm banded around her back, pressing her upper body against mine. I could feel her soft tits underneath her thin shirt against my chest, and it nearly pushed me over the edge. “Abbie, baby, look at me,” I ordered roughly.

She pulled back, her eyes filled with confusion, her brows creasing together. “You don’t want me?”

Her question was the last straw, breaking the final cord of my restraint. “Oh, I want you, and this isn’t a goddamn dream,” I growled just before I crashed my lips to hers. She whimpered against me, kissing me back without question.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Goddamn fuck.

A low sound thundered in my chest as I pulled off her blankets and climbed on top of her, falling between her spread legs. She gasped as I flexed my hips, pressing the hard bulge in the front of my jeans against her warm, panty-covered core. My tongue traced her bottom lip, greedy and eager for more of her. Both of her hands shot into my hair, pulling it, the pain shooting straight to my dick.

“Beau,” she gasped again as I moved my hips. I didn’t have control anymore. I was ready to fuck her right here and now. We could worry about the other bullshit later.

“You know how long it’s been?” I rasped against her mouth, scraping my teeth along her bottom lip. “Haven’t been with anyone either, Abbie. That little piece of heaven between your legs is the only cunt I’ll ever want.”

Another moan left her before I kissed her again, my tongue diving into her mouth, rediscovering her taste all over again.

Those long legs wrapped around me then, and I pulled back to look at her, both my hands planted on either side of my head. Her brown eyes were wild now, her lips swollen from my kiss, her core wet and warm against me. She bit her bottom lip as her hands slid down the back of my neck, over my shoulders, down my chest before trailing over my abs, making them constrict. I ground my hips against her again, watching her eyelids flutter.

“You feel so good on top of me,” she rasped, arching her back. “God, I missed it, your weight pinning me down.”

In a flash, I had both of her wrists clamped together in a single hand, pinning them above her face, both of us falling into the roles that provided us hours of endless fucking pleasure.

I leaned down, trailing my lips over her cheek, down to her jaw, kissing the soft curve of it before brushing them against the shell of her ear. “Your hand not good enough for you, Wildflower? Need a cowboy holding you down to come, hmm?” I moved against her, my hips remembering the tempo to drive her mad.

“Yes,” she moaned, humping me back.

That was the thing about my girl. She was as wild as they came, fierce and strong, but in the bedroom, she wanted to be used— dominated.

My cock was pressed against my zipper, begging to be unleashed, to be buried in the only cunt he’d ever known. I grunted and growled into her ear as our bodies moved in a heated frenzy, both of us chasing pleasure long forgotten. I rose up over her, hips still moving, and gripped her jaw with my free hand, forcing her to hold my eyes. “This feel like a fuckin’ dream, baby?”

Her eyes rolled back, her thighs shaking at my hips, and a cruel smile spread across my face. I clicked my tongue, satisfaction humming in my veins. “Dreams don’t feel this good, do they?” I taunted, pulling my hand from her jaw and shoving it between us.

Christ , her panties were soaked.

I pulled my hips back, looking down to find a dark spot in the front of my jeans in the moonlight.

“T-touch me,” she begged, straining against my hold. “Please, God, touch me.”

“Name’s not God, baby,” I murmured gruffly, watching my fingers pull the thin piece of wet silk to the side, finding nothing but beauty underneath. Her pussy was glistening in the moonlight, pink and swollen, ready for me and only me. I’d never forgotten the beauty of it, but fuck, if this didn’t feel like our first time all over again.

My mouth watered, my gaze locking on her little clit, and I wanted nothing more than to latch onto it. I wanted to eat her until she was screaming, begging for mercy, until the only thing she would be able to remember was the feel of my tongue.

None of that could happen until she gave in to me.

“You know what to say to get what you want, Abbie.”

She was quiet, and when I looked back up to her, her chest was heaving. “Beau—”

“You want to come?” I clipped. “You want me to make you feel good?”

When she didn’t answer, a rough, dark chuckle left me, and I slowly rose over again, holding her eyes. My fingers brushed against her clit, the slight movement causing her back to arch, and she broke our gaze, whimpering. My head ticked to the side, jaw tight. “You want to come, you fucking beg for it. You know the rules.”

Memories of pleasure surrounded us now, lust and love filling our lungs, re-igniting the addiction to each other we’d prayed time would heal. Time didn’t heal shit. It only made me love her more, want her more, desire her more. I leaned down, brushing my lips against hers, my fingers flicking that little bundle of nerves one more time, just to tease her. “What are you in the bedroom, Abbie?”

A sound of desperation left her, and she lifted her hips, searching and seeking my touch. I shook my head once, tightening my grip around her wrists. “What. Are. You?” I growled. Her eyes were glittering with a mix of defiance and submission.

She licked her lips, inhaling a shaky breath.

I waited.

Fuck , I waited. I needed her submission. I needed this to be fucking real. If she submitted here and now, I would have the truth. If she submitted to me, she still loved me, and the last six years had been a fucking lie.

Her next words were soft and filled with need. “I’m your little fuck toy, Beau.”

My fingers were back on her clit, rubbing in quick circles as my jaw went slack, the sight of her mouth opening on a silent scream nearly making me come in my Wranglers.

She was too beautiful for her own fucking good. She was put on this Earth to drive a cowboy like me insane.

I grunted, adjusting my hand between her legs, bringing my thumb to her clit while I slowly pushed two fingers into her slick heat. I bit down, my jaw popping at the feel of her squeezing and soaking my fingers. Jesus, she felt like heaven— my heaven . “Fuck,” I barked, pulling them out slowly before shoving them back in, my thumb still working her clit.

She bucked and bowed underneath me, her hips chasing the pleasure my hand was giving her while her back arched, pulling at the hold I had on her hands. A cry erupted from her lips, her eyes fluttering closed, her thighs shaking again. I read her body like an open fucking book, a book written for me and me alone. No other man could ever have this—no other man would have this.

Abbie Spears was mine. Forever.

“You gonna come for your cowboy like a good little fuck toy? Hm?” I taunted, my voice low as she turned her head to the side, gasping for air.

I dipped my head, my lips finding her neck, and as I fucked her roughly with my hand, I placed gentle kisses on the sensitive skin of her neck, the contrast sure to send her over the edge.

“Yes, yes, yes! Beau! Yes!” she chanted, breathless.

My lips found her ear, giving her permission. “Make a mess on me, Wildflower,” I whispered sweetly.

A low moan spilled from her lips as her walls clenched around my fingers, but that didn’t stop me from curling them, touching her G-spot with just the right amount of pressure. Warmth flooded my hand and wrist causing me to let out a low growl as the wet sounds from her filled the room. I kept at her, dragging out her pleasure, causing her to squirt again.

“That’s it. That’s my good little fuck toy,” I praised roughly, her cum covering me, the sheets my jeans. “Soak me, Abbie. Fucking mark me.”

Her head twisted from side to side, and she tried to get out of my hold. “Beau! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she chanted.

A few moments later, when her body stopped jerking from the aftershocks, I gently pulled my fingers from her heat. She watched with heated eyes as I brought them to my mouth. Her sweet tasted exploded on my tongue and I muttered a curse, my eyes dropping to stare at the mess I caused. Gently, I removed her panties and tucked them into my pocket.

“B-Beau?”

“What is it, Wildflower?” I asked, slowly looking back up to her face. Her skin was flushed, tinted pink and glowing. She had always been beautiful, her beauty only amplified after an orgasm.

She was an artist, but she would always be the most beautiful piece of art I’d ever seen.

“What happens now?” Her question was soft as if she was almost too afraid to ask it.

“We take it one day at time,” I answered, shifting off the bed, rising to my full height. She stared up at me, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. Without another word, I bent and lifted her out the bed, cradling her against my chest, her long legs hanging over the crook of my arm. Instantly, her arms locked around my neck, and she looked down to the bed, then to me.

“What are you doing?” she breathed out.

“Taking it one day at a time.”

There was nothing I else I could tell her, not right now.

I just added another thing to my to-do list: finding the people who made her leave me. Silently, I carried her into my bedroom. “Get settled,” I murmured, setting her on the right side of the bed and pulling the covers over her. “I’ll be back.”

After I checked the perimeter, checked the doors, and shut down the cabin for the rest of the night, I went back into my bedroom to find her asleep, curled up on her side. I stripped and crawled in behind her, locked my arm around her waist, pulling her back against me, and for the first time in a long time, things felt right.

I could live easier again.

My Abbie was home.