31. Rosie
Rows of foundation in varying shades of creamy tan and pale white are lined up in front of me. I chew the corner of my bottom lip as I reach for one to test on my inner forearm. Holden is pacing at the end of the aisle, his flip phone pressed up against his ear. I can hear his deep baritone voice, but I can only make out his words when he’s facing me.
“She’s fine. She just needs some rest,” he says, inspecting me carefully before turning to pace in the other direction, tipping his cowboy hat at a passing older woman.
I look back at the tube of foundation in my hand, taking a small dab and tapping it on my skin over one of the bruises on my wrist. The marbled combination of green, yellow, and purple is impossible to disguise with one color. I finally make a selection and turn over to the rows of setting powder.
“Where did they search?” he says as he shifts closer to me, serving a hard stare to a passing middle-aged man who pauses a second too long with his eyes in my direction.
The man hurries past. I think he must be on the phone with Cash. Duke is waiting in the truck for us, but Holden won’t let me out of his sight. I can’t decide if it’s romantic or unhinged.
Who’s going to kidnap me in a whole other state? How would they find me here?
Still, his presence excites and unnerves me. He seems to think whoever was behind taking me has the resources to track us. He’s not taking any chances, and I feel completely protected and safe with him. At least safe from being taken again.
Emotionally? Not so much.
I select the setting powder in my shade, debating on getting a lip color and eye shadow. I decide a tinted lip balm is bare minimum, choosing a muted rose pink I know won’t clash with my hair color.
The last thing I feel like I can’t live without for another day is a bra that fits. I’m sure Walmart’s selection won’t have my size because I usually have to special order them online. Either way, a sports bra would be better than nothing. I drop the makeup into the basket he’s carrying before making my way toward women’s intimates. Holden trails a few steps behind me.
“There is a guy I could reach out to. He knew him, did some contract work. I might be able to get a call with him, but it’ll be recorded.”
My fingers reach out to trace over a pair of cheeky black underwear made of lace.
Walmart has stepped up their intimates game.
Just to see his reaction, I select a pair in my size and toss them into the basket. His eyes follow the movement before flicking back up to meet mine.
Onyx is my new favorite color.
His eyes darken to the shade I now know indicates that he’s picturing me in a compromising position. I’ve seen that same look on his face so many times now, and I always thought it was a hate glare.
I’ve realized now that it’s an eye-fucking.
The veins in his hand pop out as he grips the basket harder, following me deeper into the aisle. To my shock and delight, there’s a size 32F in a plain black bra with a tiny strip of lace trim around the top of the cups. I reach for it, holding it up to my chest. It’ll be a snug fit, but it’ll do. I toss it into the basket.
“Warner should know how to handle it,” he growls, snapping the phone shut.
I purse my lips together, trying not to smile. I brush past him, intentionally letting my shoulder touch his as I pass.
He loops his arm around my waist, hauling my body toward him and pressing his lips up to my ear. “Don’t you need to try it on?”
I scrunch my toes, letting the tingles run over the surface of my skin as I curl my hand around his forearm. “Hmm, I guess I should.”
He lets go, reaching down to grip my wrist and guide me toward the dressing room nearby. No one seems to be monitoring it, but one of the doors is cracked open. He pushes it all the way open, inspecting the tiny space clearly meant for just one person. I walk through, expecting him to hand me the clothes and wait.
He doesn’t. Instead, he comes inside with me and locks the door behind him. I turn around in the cramped space, which is less than four by four feet.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to come inside with me. This is the ladies’.”
“Do you want me to leave?” He reaches inside the basket, handing me the bra and panties.
I don’t answer him, grabbing the items and lifting my chin with faux defiance as my cheeks heat. “Turn around.”
He runs his tongue over his teeth under his lips as he sets the basket down on the ground and pivots, turning his broad back to me. He’s a full foot taller than my five-foot-three frame, and it makes me feel even tinier in the cramped space. I quickly pull off the white tank top and too-small bra. My nipples pucker in the chilled air, his nearness heating my core.
If he turned around right now, he’d see me topless.
I shiver before unhooking the latch on the bra, wrapping it around my waist and fastening it around myself. I pull it up over my chest. My breasts spill out of the top a bit more than I’m comfortable with, but it’ll do.
I look hot.
I never try panties on in the store, but since I plan to purchase these and I want Holden to see them on me, I do it anyway. I kick off my shoes and pull my leggings down before sliding the silky lace up over my hips. My body tilts away from him so I can survey my reflection in the mirror.
I try to imagine myself from his eyes, how he’ll see me. The dip in my waist and the spill of my cleavage are sexy, but the bruise on my side is distracting. He might be even more wary of touching me after he sees it. It might bring back the rage in his eyes that I saw when he killed Jed.
I shift my feet nervously, clasping my hands in front of myself. “Okay.”
His shoulders shift, the brim of his cowboy hat tilting with the movement. He exhales, eyes meeting mine before leisurely drifting over my body. I’m raw and exposed, nearly naked while he’s still fully dressed.
It jerks me back to the night in the barn years ago, when he was in a compromising state, but even then, I felt like the prey.
I suck in life-giving oxygen. He starts with his eyes in the mirror, observing my front before moving to the back of me that I can’t see. His jaw clenches as he steps closer, bending down and dropping to one knee so he can study the bruise on my side.
Not this man, getting on his knees for me …
Every bone in my body is liquefied. I try to remain upright in a standing position while watching this ruthless, powerful man tenderly reach out a callous hand to touch the sensitive skin over my ribs. Goose bumps prick the surface of my legs and arms.
“They’ll suffer for this. All of them,” he promises.
I struggle to breathe, staring at the infuriated expression on his handsome features.
He’s angry, for me. He’s vengeful, for me. He’s protective, of me.
His focus shifts up to meet my stare in the mirror before he delicately presses his hands over each of my hips and rotates my body to face him. I’m motionless, watching him remove his cowboy hat and set it down on the bench. I gasp as he brings my hips forward, pressing his nose against my pubic bone and inhaling deeply.
Oh, fuck me …
My legs start trembling as he pulls down my panties, tugging them slowly. My sex is exposed, the wetness already dripping from me and growing cold with the exposure to the air. The fabric pools around my legs. He lifts up my right foot, guiding them off of me before his hand cups the back of my leg and lifts it up over his shoulder. He holds it there with his right arm. My hands are at my sides because I don’t know where they should go. My upper back leans up against the plastic divider wall of the dressing room.
What the fuck. What the fuck. What. The. Fuck.
His ravenous gaze collides with mine as he leans forward, leisurely swiping over the front seam of my dampened sex with his tongue.
“Ah!” I cry out, letting my head fall back against the dressing room wall. I can’t help it.
He clamps his free hand over my mouth. I hold on to it, terrified I’ll do it again if he pulls it away. After a few agonizing seconds, he leans in again and licks me from the labia up to my clit, like he just wanted to taste me. I’m trembling, the knee of my stationary leg nearly quivering from the effort to remain standing upright.
The sensations spreading from my pussy are foreign, something I’ve never experienced. The texture of his tongue, the wetness of his mouth, combined with my arousal, mixes deliciously. After less than a minute, I feel the urge to scream from the pleasure. My breathy gasps sound like someone is getting fucked in public, but I can’t contain myself.
Holden grips my leg harder as my muscles tighten. The lips of my vagina are spread apart with his tongue as he feasts on me. My eyes roll back in my head. My hands move up to grip the roots of his hair, to somehow brace myself against the waves of pleasure coursing through me.
A ripple of need tears through my center, drawing a scream from the back of my throat. It’s muffled by his hand, but there’s no way in hell someone didn’t hear it. The orgasm consumes me as he laps me up in all the right places, his mouth suctioned to my raw pink flesh. After several earth-tilting moments, I’m panting. The death grip my fingers have on his hair loosens.
Finally, he pulls back, cool air rushing in on me.
“Oh, angel, I should’ve guessed you’d be a screamer.” He gently peppers the insides of my thighs with kisses.
I shudder, suddenly coming to my senses at the purr of his voice.
What the fuck am I doing?
Holden Redford’s face is between my thighs … in a fucking Walmart dressing room, no less.
I stand upright, leaning to the side and reaching for my clothes. My limbs feel unsteady. No one has ever ravaged me like that. No man has ever touched the skin of my vagina. My breath hitches as his dark gaze meets my eyes. He doesn’t wipe my glistening wetness from his mouth as he rises to a standing position.
Instead, he uses the tip of his forefinger to wipe it away before sticking it in his mouth and licking it, relishing one last taste. The smacking sound of his lips fills the room.
I blink, attempting to mentally and emotionally return to normal as my mouth dries at the sight. Holden grabs his cowboy hat, placing it on his head as he squares his shoulders. He patiently waits for me to get dressed, watching me in the mirror instead of turning around. Once my shoes are back on, I slowly place the bra and panties back in the basket.
He seems to be waiting for my signal to open the door. After a few moments of silence, I offer him a curt nod. He unlatches the door, and we walk out. We make our way to the checkout. He scans each of my items and pays with cash while I observe in hazy half awareness.
With the bags in one of his hands and his eyes carefully scanning the parking lot, we walk toward where Duke parked. His other hand protectively hovers above my lower back.
The sky is dark and cloudy even though it’s mid-afternoon. A realization hits me when the truck comes into view. I halt in my tracks.
“Did you get the ransom message?” I blurt out.
His eyes narrow on me. “What message?”
“Jed made me record a ransom call on his phone.”
I don’t know how I forgot until now. My hands begin to tremble as Duke pulls closer to us.
Surely, it has to be important, some kind of clue. Who did they send the message to if not my family?
After he opens the door for me and we both climb into the truck, Holden turns back to face me. “What did the message say?”
I twist my hands in my lap. “Just my name, that they were holding me, and to get me back, they wanted twenty million dollars.”
Holden faces his brother as the truck turns onto the highway. “When did that happen? What day?”
I rack my brain, my eyes traveling out the window at the passing desert terrain. “The second one, I think.”
“Well, who do you know that has twenty mil sitting around?” Duke quips, shaking his head and looking over at Holden.
He rubs his hand across the back of his neck, and my stomach drops. I know exactly what he’s thinking.
My father.
“The other thing I’ve been wondering about is, who was sending the texts from Rosie to Dolly and her aunt? Was it Jed?” Duke asks.
My hands start shaking, so I slide them between my body and the seat to keep them still.
“Whoever took me must have grabbed my phone.”
“They must have had it near the cabin because that’s where the location was pinging, even though it was days old. That’s how I found you,” Holden says.
Who could have done this to me? Why?