UNTAMED

33. Rosie

My neck aches as my eyes flutter open. Strong arms lift my body up, and I see the hallway of the ranch house. The voices of Duke and Sterling reach my ears. After all the trauma from this last week, I feel exhausted. My body is craving more sleep to continue recovering and healing my many minor injuries.

The familiar scent of cedar and leather fills my nostrils, and I know Holden is taking me to his bed to sleep.

I guess the whole family knows now. What a lucky way to break the news of me sleeping in his bed. Dolly can’t really be mad about it after I was kidnapped and held for ransom.

I close my eyes again, letting myself drift back into a peaceful sleep.

When I awake again, I’m immediately aware that I’m not in Holden’s bed. The moving vehicle is slowing down. My eyelids flutter open, revealing the leather interior of the truck.

“Where are we?” I start to sit up, turning to face Duke.

I see Holden’s ruggedly handsome face in the driver’s seat. He turns to face me, not smiling. “We’re nearing the border to New Mexico.”

I blink in confusion. “I thought we were already at the ranch?”

Was it a dream?

I glance in the back seat for Duke, but it’s empty. Holden and I are alone. My stomach clenches.

“We stopped by for a bit, but you and I have a flight to catch.”

My heart hammers inside my chest. Something feels off, but I don’t know what.

“A flight to where?” I ask, trying to remain calm.

“Oregon.”

Oregon?!

“What’s in Oregon?”

“A man who can help us figure out who did this to you and why.”

I try sitting up more, but a flash of pain shoots through my side. I gasp, my hand cupping it tightly.

“What’s wrong?” He reaches for me but stops right before touching me.

I blow out a slow breath, moving myself upright much slower. “I’m fine. I just don’t understand what the plan is. Why do we have to fly there together to see this man?”

We pass a sign that says Welcome to New Mexico.

“And why are we going all the way to another state to fly there?”

“We’re assuming that our closest airport is being watched for you.”

“Watched by who?”

“By the authorities. You might not understand everything right now, but I’m going to need you to trust me.” His deep voice is firm as he looks over at me with his depthless eyes and lowered brows.

I stare back at him for a few moments before turning my gaze toward the front windshield. My chest rises and falls slowly as I try to determine what he’s not telling me.

“What about my aunt? Does she know I’m safe now?”

He grips the steering wheel tighter. “Only my family knows right now. We feel confident that your disappearance was intended to look like we were behind it. Until we have proof we didn’t do it, if they know you’ve been found, we will be implicated. I’ll probably be arrested.”

A cold fear spreads over my chest and neck at the thought of Holden behind bars again.

“Why?” My voice is a whisper. “Why would anyone want to do this?”

I’m met with silence. After a few beats, he looks over at me with determination in his gaze.

“We’re going to solve this, Rosie. I’m going to keep you safe, whatever it takes.”

His words wrap around my bones, warming me to my core. Our proximity, his vow to protect me, the reality of our isolation, and the fact that we’re inevitably bound to end up alone in a hotel room start to overwhelm my senses.

My mind flashes back to the dressing room, where he effortlessly drew an orgasm from me with his tongue. My inner thighs grow warmer with each passing mile. The erotic memory is all I can see, all I can feel as the truck seems to get smaller and smaller. My hand grips the door handle until my knuckles grow white.

Is there oxygen in here?

“Can we stop?” I blurt out.

Holden glances over at me.

“To pee. I need to pee,” I explain.

“We’re going to get a hotel room in the next town. It’s less than ten minutes ahead.”

Ten minutes crawls by at the pace of a wounded cricket. My head is swirling with possibilities.

Will he get two rooms? Two beds? Will he come on to me? Will he lap me up again and make my legs weak?

He shifts in his seat. I turn to look at him, noticing him adjusting the crotch of his jeans as the muscle in his jaw tics.

I jerk my gaze out the front window, attempting to gulp down my nerves. A hotel comes into view. This one is nicer than the one we got with Duke. The walls are white stucco with arched black window frames. It’s well lit, and it has a luscious garden with a running fountain out front. Holden pulls around to the back of it and parks.

He reaches a hand toward me, causing me to inhale a sharp breath. He doesn’t touch me, simply grabs the door handle from inside and opens it for me before unlatching the seat belt around my waist. He climbs out of the truck and opens the back door.

I try to get control of myself as I step out of the lifted truck and close my door behind me. He’s carrying our two bags, but waits for me to be beside him before walking to the hotel entrance. A chill in the night air nips at my shoulders.

The front desk woman smiles up at us, eyes dipping over Holden appreciatively. “How can I help you this evening?”

“King-size room with a mountain view and a bottle of merlot,” he says.

I gulp.

She nods, checking us in and handing him the keys and a bottle of merlot after she uses a cork opener to open it. She shoots me a knowing glance, almost as if to say, Damn, girl, you lucky bitch.

The decor is authentic Southwest with large plants, clay pots, and intricate hand-painted tiles. A warm fire burns in the hotel lobby hearth, crackling an invitation to stay awhile. My joints feel rubbery as we step into the elevator.

I lick my lips as the doors close. My panties are already soaked, the anticipation so great that I feel like I might collapse. He waits for me to exit once the doors open. I easily find room number 307. His fingers brush against mine, sparks shooting through me as he hands me the key card.

I refuse to look at his face, knowing the lust is written all over mine in bold black ink. Without a word, I open the door and lock myself in the bathroom before even looking at the bed.

My bright aqua eyes stare back at me in the mirror. “Tonight is the night,” I whisper.

Giving myself up to him feels inevitable as I pull my hair back. He’s too much for me to resist, this past week too traumatic for me to even contemplate saying no to my rescuer even if he is a killer.

Even the bathroom is decorated perfectly with muted green square tiles and a gold-framed mirror. The shower is plenty big enough for two. Holden knocks on the door as soon as I’m naked, nearly stopping my heart.

“Your bag is out here. I’m going to get us some ice,” he says through the door.

Once I hear the room door close, I reach out to grab my bag, thankful for everything but especially the razor.

Every inch of me is silky-smooth, scrubbed clean, and lotioned up twenty minutes later. I dab just a tad bit of concealer to cover the remainder of the bruises on my face and side. I want him to think I’m more healed so he won’t be gentle with me.

After brushing my teeth, I observe myself one more time in the mirror. I remove my hair from the bun, letting it spill around my bare shoulders before I reach for the door, still completely naked.

My limbs shake as I walk out, feigning confidence as best I can. Holden is sprawled out in an armchair in the corner. He’s holding a glass of wine in one hand, the other resting on his thigh. He’s changed into a plain white wife-beater and removed his cowboy hat. His eyes darken a shade, sliding over every inch of my skin at a leisurely pace. My nipples pucker under the inspection, my skin pricking with goose bumps. He takes a slow sip of the red liquid, the bulge between his legs noticeably growing.

For me.

Instead of walking over to him, I move to the dresser and grab the straw Stetson, placing it on my head. My long red tresses are spilling in big waves around my heavy breasts. He exhales, his neck veins bulging out.

The drapes on the window are open, revealing the dark mountain in the distance. The courtyard below is lit with lanterns. My bare feet meet the soft rug spread on the floor of the room as I make my way over to him.

He doesn’t take his eyes off of mine as I finally stand before him, merely inches away. He hands me the glass of wine, reaching for another one beside him on the table. I drain the entire thing in one long gulp, needing every drop of liquid courage in this moment.

Every moment that has led us here has created a staggering amount of tension. He takes the empty glass from me before gripping my fingers and tugging me into his lap. I straddle him, gasping at the instant roughness of the denim on my pussy. His fingers make contact with my nipples, pinching each one softly before increasing the pressure, nearing the realm of pain.

His ebony eyes don’t leave my face as he plays with my body, testing my reactions. He makes a mental note of what I like, what makes me gasp, moan, and clench my thighs together. Once my nipples are raw and my arousal has coated his jeans, he dips his head down and sucks my breast into his mouth.

“Oh fuck.” I gasp and tip my head back, closing my eyes as the pleasure of his tongue marks another part of my body.

One of his hands reaches around to hold my lower back. The other begins to slowly knead my ass with strong fingers. A fire builds inside my core, the pressure between my legs growing without him even touching me there.

He switches to the other nipple right when I think I might cry from the intensity.

“Holden,” I gasp, clawing at his shoulders.

I need more, more friction, more of him. I dip my head down to pepper his neck with kisses and nibbles. He growls, rising up from the chair with me wrapped around him. His mouth pops off of my breast, and his lips crash to mine. His strong arms hold me up, our tongues hungry and devouring each other with a layer of desperation we’re both too exhausted to keep hiding.

He pulls away, his lips swollen and pink as he looks up at me, black-brown eyes shiny and unguarded. My arms are latched around his neck. The pressure from his dick digging into me is nearly enough to make me come with each tiny movement of his steps toward the bed.

“Are you ready for this, angel? I don’t think I can be gentle with you.” His tone has a desperate edge, like he’s silently begging for me to either give in to him or run away screaming.

“I want it. I want you. Please … please fuck me,” I whimper in his arms, begging him with my eyes and my words.

Something snaps in him at my plea. He tosses me back on the bed, my ass meeting the covers as he pulls the shirt off and starts working on his belt. He removes the pistol tucked into his waistband and sets it on the nightstand before tugging off the Wranglers and his boxers in one movement.

I adjust the hat on my head, biting my lower lip as his dick springs out. I’ve never seen one before, only felt it through his jeans. I gulp, staring at it.

It’s way too big to fit inside me—that’s for damn sure.

He grabs my ankle, pulling me toward him. “What’s the matter, Dixon? Never seen a man fully hard before?”

I shake my head, which causes him to pause, but not let go of me. I prop myself up onto my elbows, finally looking away from it and into his eyes.

“How limited … is your experience?” He nearly chokes on the words.

My eyes widen. Did he just ask me for details on how many bases I got to with his brother?

“Um, I’ve never seen one … only one I’ve touched is yours that night at the motel.”

He nods. “Have you ever been fingered?” His voice is strained, almost like he’s afraid of the answer.

I choose my words carefully. “By myself, yes. I’ve touched myself. No one else ever has … down there.”

He blinks at me, breathing slowly as he waits for me to continue.

“Um, but”—I gesture to the chair we just vacated, where he sucked on my breasts—“I’ve done that before, just with my pants still on.” I hesitate before just ripping the Band-Aid off. “With Duke.” I whisper the last word, waiting for it to land on him.

His neck veins are near bursting as he stares down at me, tracing his fingers over the skin of my ankle as he leans his face down toward my foot. He kisses the bottom of my arch on each foot before moving up to repeat it on my ankle. His eyes rise to mine.

“You think I want to hear about how my little brother took your top off and sucked on your nipples in his pickup truck?”

I don’t breathe as his warm exhales follow each kiss. He slowly makes his way up to my knees, then my quivering thighs, leaving a smoldering path in his wake. He looks up at me when he reaches my bikini line and licks his lips, like he’s dying to feast on me.

“You’ll be lucky if I don’t kill my own kin with that fucking talk, Rosie Dixon.”