Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
Hazel
“I said placate. As in what I planned to do before you burned half of them,” I grumble, but I still can’t help the sigh when he gently kisses and sucks on the sensitive part of my neck where it meets my shoulder. I arch into him, my ass brushing over his cock, and I can feel him going hard. His hand wraps around the side of my throat, and his mouth continues to tease me for a moment before he speaks again.
“There’s another half I could burn. Might still be worth the effort,” he threatens, and the defiance floods my chest again.
“Might…” I pull away from him, grabbing his black cowboy hat off the table. I momentarily contemplate tossing it into the fire and watching it burn the way he did my invitations. He pulled it out of his storage closet shortly after he got here and seeing him in it brings back too many memories. But even as I think it, I know I can’t do it. So I put it on my head instead and take a step back toward him. I smile as I pr ess my palms to his chest and run them up toward his shoulders.
“Or…” I whisper softly, leaning up on my tiptoes to bring my lips closer to his ear. “You could kiss my ass, cowboy.” I shove him hard then, and it knocks him off-balance. He falls back into the chair he was sitting in, and I take off running through the house.
I’m out through the den, down a hall, across the kitchen, and through the back hallway again, racing for the back door. I can hear him on the other side of the house yelling my name in a thundering tone, but I grab the door handle, and my feet hit the deck before I can make out the rest of what he says.
My feet pound against the wood and down the stairs. My heart’s racing in my chest, and a nervous giggle pops out as I scan the back to make sure I don’t see Elliot or Kellan out at the stables. It’s late enough that the sun’s setting, and they should be tucked away at home, but I’d rather them not see me running half naked through the yard. This lingerie wasn’t exactly made like a sports bra either.
My next regret is when I hit the gravel part of the drive without shoes on. I yelp, and it slows me down, but when I hear the screen door slam behind me, it sends me cutting across the short side and racing across all the tiny stones in record time.
“Haze!” Ramsey bellows from the back deck. “Be fucking reasonable and come back here.”
I just flip him the bird over my shoulder, though, grabbing his hat to keep it on my head as I take off in a full-on sprint when I hit the grass. I can move quicker here now that my feet don’t feel like they’re being impaled by tiny spikes. I’ll need it because I can hear his boots on the gravel already.
I take a quick dodge to the right, heading for the outcropping of cottonwood around the stream that runs through this side of the ranch and hope I can lose him in the cover of the turning leaves. By the time I get there, though, he’s already gained a lot of ground on me. He’s only a few steps behind as I weave through the trees.
I look up, and in the distance, I can see the fence to one of the pastures. If I can hop it fast, it might be enough to slow him down. I can get back to the barn on the other side and shut the door before he can reach me and, hopefully, lose him that way.
“Haze. If I catch you…” Ramsey’s on the ridge overlooking the stream as I step into it with something dangling from his hand that I can’t quite make out. I glance down at the water and the banks, hoping I’m not surprising any animals here for a late evening drink.
“You can try!” I call back to him as I wade through the water, the mud seeping between my toes and the water splashing my legs as I hurry through the ankle-high section of the current. I lift my robe, careful not to let it get wet, and then I hurry to climb the bank on the other side. I’m half praying he falls into the water. I need the extra time, but the short set of splashes at my heels tells me he’s crossed it faster than me.
I’m out across the field, racing like my life depends on it, and it might. The last time I did this to him, he’d been furious with me, yelling about all the ways I could have hurt myself. Between this and the invitations…
I reach the fence, and I don’t hesitate. I just pull myself up on the first rung and go to throw my other leg over the wooden rail. But that’s when I hear it. The sharp rip and my motion’s stopped in an instant. I look down, and my robe is caught on one of the nails, restricting my movement. I try to slip it off my shoulder, but it’s twisted, pinning me in place and making it nearly impossible to escape.
I can hear his footsteps, the swish of the grass as it parts for him, and then his heavy breathing as he closes in on me. I yank one last time for good measure, trying to tear myself free where I’m unable to do anything else. But it fails, and the momentum whips me back, making me tumble off the fence and onto the ground at his feet. I scramble to try to get to my knees and push myself back up, but his knee is at my back, driving me back down.
“No. You’re fucking done.” He grinds out the words through heavy breaths, pinning me into place. He’s able to pull my robe off and untangle me from the nail with ease, making me look like an incapable fawn in comparison. He grabs both of my hands and pins them together with one of his—relentless and thorough in the way he manages me. I can’t even think quickly enough to get out of his grip, and I’m realizing at this moment how much power he’s let me have up until now. How many times he could have just picked me up one-handed and tossed me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing. How easily he could have put me in my place, but he held back. I forgot about this, what it feels like to be with him and let him have control.
I quickly discover what was dangling from his hand at the ridge line. Rope. I feel it, tight and scratchy on my skin as he winds it around my wrists, binding them together.
“Ramsey,” I plead, trying to think of something I can say to mollify him.
“Don’t talk. I don’t want to fucking hear a single word.”
“I’m so—” His hand goes over my mouth, and his lips press to my ear as he pulls the rope tight around my wrists until I hiss out a protest through his fingers.
“Don’t even try to say that word. We both know you’re not.” He nips the shell of my ear, and then he stands, pulling me to my knees by holding onto the rope around my wrists. He takes in my appearance, his eyes grazing over every inch of me. I glance down, seeing that I’ve ripped the lingerie in my struggle with the fence, and one of my breasts is now spilling out over the cup. All of me is covered in dirt and bits of grass, and there are scrapes across my thighs from where I slipped off the fence, little beads of blood pooling where it sliced through my flesh.
He squats down to take a closer look and wipes over it with his thumb. It smears over my skin, and he shakes his head. His green eyes lift to meet mine, ire in them. I can hear his thoughts. The way he’s telling me he told me I’d get hurt doing this, how silly I am, along with more patronizing terms of endearment.
“Was it worth it?”
“To see the look on your face falling back into that chair? Yeah. Yeah, it was.” I laugh just thinking about the surprised little grunt he made as I fled, and he’s anything but amused by it.
He grabs my chin and holds my gaze; the next words sound more like a threat than anything else. “I’m glad you had fun.”
I dart my tongue out over my lower lip, and I can feel the answering flutter of excitement in my stomach and then the warmth of it pooling lower. I’ve been dying for more of this side of him.