Chapter 36
Several days have passed since we were told Jenson has gone on the run, and I think I’m going to go mad.
There is no way — absolutely no way — I am staying holed up here until he gets caught.
That could take months, years even. Deputy Wright has stopped by on a few occasions, checking in or giving updates on the search, but so far, nothing has changed.
He has not been seen or heard from since the night he attacked me at the bar.
It’s been so long since then that even the bruise on my jaw has faded to nothing more than a shadow.
Roman hovers, constantly checking we are safe, distracted by all of this and neglecting his own duties and the ranch.
He has calves being born daily, paperwork that is piling up in his office.
I don’t work shifts at the bar, even though they need me.
I have a great workforce, but it’s such a busy season that they need all the hands they can get.
At some point we need to say enough is enough and come to terms with the fact that he isn’t here, and we can’t remain in limbo.
Fluffing the pillow, I release a breath. “I’m going to work tomorrow.”
Roman halts at his drawers, a towel wrapped around his hips. “It’s too dangerous.”
“No.” Collapsing down onto the mattress, I hold his eyes. “It’s not. We can’t just stay like this, Roman.”
“It won’t be much longer.” He dismisses me, but I can see how tense his shoulders are.
“How long?” I press. “A day? A week? A month?”
“I don’t know.”
“How long, Roman?” I put on the pressure.
“I don’t know!”
“Exactly. I have a bar to run.”
“You’ve got staff.”
“Roman,” I snap, my frustration growing, “I get it, I do. You want to keep us all safe, but at what expense?”
“I don’t want to argue, Niamh.” He sighs, so much weight in the sound, I soften a little.
“We’re not arguing, Roman.” My voice is lower now, gentler. “But this is not sustainable.”
“Just a few more days.” He comes toward me, abandoning the drawers and whatever he was looking for.
“No.” I don’t back down. “I’m going to work. You’re going to work.”
“I am working.”
I scoff, “No, you’re hovering.”
His brows scrunch adorably. “I am not.”
“What’d you get done today, cowboy?” I chuckle, crossing my arms as I wait for him to answer.
“Well, I —” He cuts himself off before starting again. “There was —”
“My point exactly,” I shuffle closer and get onto my knees, wrapping my arms around his neck and lean in, whispering my mouth on his, “I understand your need to protect everyone you love but let’s not forget the life we are trying to build.”
He tilts his head forward and rests his brow against mine. “You’re right.”
“I know I am,” I grin.
He moves quickly, pinning me beneath him as he rests his weight on his forearms. “Just promise me you’ll be smart. Anything happens, and you get out of there.”
“I’m a big girl, cowboy. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can, sweetheart,” He kisses the corner of my mouth. “Is it so bad that I want to do it?”
“No,” I breathe, “And I promise.”
“Thank you.” He slants his mouth over mine, stealing my breath. His tongue slides between my lips, and his chest meets mine as he closes the small gap between us, my thighs widening to allow him closer.
“You come home to me,” He rasps before his mouth finds my neck and his teeth graze.
“Always,” I vow, skin pebbling and body reacting to the way he works me up. It’s so simple, and yet he’s the only one who has ever made me react this way. I am but a puppet on strings attached to his fingers.
I feel the hard length of his cock press up between my legs, grinding through the thin material of my shorts, and my nipples pebble as a moan slips from me.
“Tell me.” He pushes to his knees as his hands go to the hem of my shirt, and he slides it up.
“I love you.” Whiskey eyes clash with mine, lids hooded. Lifting my arms, I allow him to strip the t-shirt from me before he goes to my shorts.
Pushing my hips up, he makes quick work to remove them, leaving me completely bare to him, my legs parted with him between them.
He runs a finger over his bottom lip as he devours me with his eyes.
It never gets old, the way he looks at me, like it’s the first time and he’s trying to memorize every inch of me.
Reaching for the knot on his towel, he throws it off the side of the bed and palms his heavy cock with one hand, while the other scissors through me, my hips jerking, searching for more.
“I fucking love how you respond to me, Niamh,” He growls, “So fucking needy.”
Two fingers slide into me, and I can’t help but throw my head back, the pleasure zapping through me as my muscles clench.
He chuckles darkly, his thumb finding my clit as he works me slowly, watching everything he does.
The hand around his cock moves at the same speed at which he fucks me with the other, from base to tip, his hand jerks himself, thumb swiping over the bead of salty pre-cum from the crown.
“Such a pretty pussy, sweetheart,” I shiver as he slowly brings me up to the peak, curling his fingers just right to hit the spot inside of me, “Made for me.”
“Roman,” I gasp his name, my climax right there.
“More baby?” He whispers.
“Please.”
The tip of his cock slides inside while his fingers are still there, stretching me impossibly wider, my body trembling the further he goes.
“You can take it,” He assures me, his hand moving, dick sinking deeper.
“Oh fuck,” I cry.
“That’s it.” He pulls out a touch before thrusting back inside. “You going to fall apart for me?”
“I’m close.” My eyes are squeezed closed as he sends my body through a hundred different sensations.
“I know you are, I can feel it.”
His thumb moves a little harder as he thrusts all the way into me, and I can’t help it.
He groans as I orgasm around him, pussy clenching wildly, and he pushes me through it, thrusting, working my clit until I physically can’t take anymore. His hands move to my hips, sinking in as he pulls me onto him, my ass off the bed while he thrusts into me, keeping me steady, finding his pace.
“So fucking perfect,” He groans, mouth going slack as he finds his own pleasure, emptying into me before he lowers me back to the bed and pulls out, collapsing down by my side.
We both breathe a little easier, and while I know tomorrow will have him nervous, it needs to happen so we can just keep going.
When I wake in the morning, Roman has already started for the day, his side of the bed cold.
The sun streaks in through a crack in the curtains and I can hear his voice down below as he shouts orders to his workers, and when I peek through the window, I see him on top of his horse, his hat low to shield his eyes.
The sun kisses his skin, and his body moves with such ease, a commanding force that demands attention.
Dragging my eyes away, I grab a shower and get ready for the day, slipping a bar tee on before I skip downstairs and out into the sun.
The warmth immediately graces my skin, a promise of a long, hot summer to come.
Roman trots over on the back of Pippin, tension pulling his mouth down, a line between his brows.
“I’ll be fine,” I promise him, knowing exactly that’s what he needs.
He wets his lips and swallows. “Take my truck.”
“You sure?”
“I’ll use one of the ranch vehicles or Silas’s if I need it.” He lets out a heavy breath. “Call me if anything happens. Anything.”
“I will,” I assure him, accepting the keys he slides out of his pocket. His hand lingers, holding mine when I reach to take them from him. One of his workers lets out a whistle that steals his attention away, and I pull my hand back.
“Get back to work, cowboy,” I grin at him. “I’ll see you later.”
“I love you.” His eyes linger on the dimples on my cheeks.
“I love you, too.”
Ashley throws a piece of ice at me. “I’ve missed you!”
“It’s been a lot,” I sigh, “I’m sorry.”
“I bet,” She leans her hip on the counter, “I can’t imagine how scary it must all be. I mean, his dad!?”
I shake my head. “It’s insane.”
“Well,” Ashley throws a towel over her shoulder as she steps out of the bar, heading toward the door to open for the day, “All the right things are happening, as soon as he’s caught, you can all move on.”
“They all deserve nothing less.”
Ashley gets the doors unlocked and welcomes in the first few patrons, a couple of families ready for lunch and of course the regulars who take up their seats on the stools at the bar. We may not be in the clear, but this is the right path — just a steady pace and everything will fall into place.
Things get busier around three, with every table in the place filling and a queue making its way out the door. It’s the weekend of the Spring Festival, and while things don’t truly kick off until tomorrow with the parades and the stalls, the town is rammed, ready for the festivities.
“Crap, we’re out of limes,” I grumble. “I’ll be right back.
” I call out to whoever is listening and pick up the container to head back to the kitchen.
The kitchen staff are working overtime to get the orders fulfilled as quickly as possible; the air in here almost stifling even with the air conditioning cranked up to max.
“You guys good in here?” I yell.
“We’re good, boss,” My head chef calls back without turning to look at me, they’re all too busy but I can see they’re running low on a few items from out back so once I cut the limes, I take a second to run down to the back room, bundling as many of the things into a box I can carry.
I’m just reaching onto the top shelf for the seasonings when the hair on the nape of my neck stands up. I spin around, eyes widening when I see who is standing in the doorway, blocking my only escape.
“You.” My eyes widen, but I don’t get a chance to make a sound when something hard slams into the side of my head and all the lights go out.