Tin

CHAPTER FOUR

RIKER

I close my eyes to the sun. I’m not ready for daylight. I’m not ready to go back to my life. For some reason, even the uninterrupted sounds of the isolated early morning beach aren’t enough to quiet my mind right now.

Well, if nothing else, Sid’ll be pleased her condom run didn’t go to waste. I thought she’d been nuts when she showed up here two days ago with an armload of condoms and toothbrushes, making her grand speech about how I was still alive and how it was about damn time I acted like it. I wasn’t really sure how that translated into safe sex and oral hygiene, but she assured me it did. And maybe it does.

Three condoms and five orgasms for her later, and I’m feeling more alive than I have in a long time. I’m sure it would shock her to know I got more out of the two I gave her than the three we shared. It’s been so fucking long since I’ve put anyone else’s needs above my own, doing something that was completely about someone else for a change was becoming a foreign concept. It gets tiring being a selfish son of a bitch all the damn time, but what else am I supposed to be when I live in a hole, isolated from the rest of the world with no other living, breathing being around? Except on the rare occasion that Sid still comes by. And it’s my own damn fault she doesn’t show up more often than she does. I wouldn’t want to be around me either.

But Quinn did. And even though she’s gone for now, I have a feeling she’ll be back. Of course, I’m giving Quinn something I’m not about to give Sid. She’s getting something out of being here with me. Sid gets shit. Because I love her. And she loves me. And that’s what you do when you’re a selfish son of a bitch. You give those you love the worst of what you have. And Sid’s the only one left, so she gets the worst of it all.

QUINN

Still feeling the waves of embarrassment after having woken up in Cowboy’s bed after specifically making a point of promising a “wham, bam, thank you ma’am” kind of experience, I’m doing my best to sneak back into Kirsten’s house.

The sun’s already coming up and I’m still dressed in my running gear. I can easily make an argument for having just returned from an early morning run if I get caught, but I’ve never been all that good a liar. It would take Kirsten all of three seconds to deduce I was out all night with some scumbag who would only get me into trouble. And then I’d grin like an idiot remembering the night I’ve had, and it would be all she’d need to seal the deal on her conclusions.

Thankfully, I make it back into my downstairs living quarters without a hitch, and Harley and I climb into my bed to spend what’s left of the night sleeping there. I know the less gross thing would be to shower first. But I’m exhausted. And strangely, not nearly as disgusted with myself as I ought to be.

It’s nearly eleven by the time I come crawling out of my cave and greet the rest of the family. It’s Sunday, so Nate is actually home for a change.

“There’s trouble,” he says. “I heard you tried to steal a horse yesterday.”

Only his eyes are visible over the Sunday paper, but I can tell he’s laughing at me.

“Seriously, Kirsten? I head for the fridge and pour myself the biggest glass of OJ I think I’ve ever had. I’m parched. Three guesses why. “You’re so freaking dramatic about everything.”

“Oh, I’m the dramatic one now? You’re the one who pouted all night because of our little talk in the car. You even missed dinner.” My sister frowns. “I made chicken pot pie. From scratch. ”

I’m sure this means something significant to her. I hate chicken pot pie, so it means squat to me.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ditch you. I just went for a run...and by the time I got back, I was exhausted and went straight to bed.” It’s totally true. Minus one major detail. Cowboy. “Which reminds me, do you know there’s a house like twice the size of this place less than a mile down the beach?”

Kirsten’s mouth twists into a grimace that reminds me of the face she used to make when we were kids and dared each other to eat lemons. “It’s not twice the size. It’s just laid out differently so it looks bigger.” She places a bowl of oatmeal in front of Sophie, who’s quietly coloring in her coloring book at the breakfast bar.

Nate clears his throat. “Well, the layout isn’t the only reason. The Shepherdson place has like a thousand square feet on this house.”

I don’t know why I care. I shouldn’t care. “Shepherdson? Is that who owns it?”

Kirsten puts a bowl of oatmeal down in front of me as well, and I smile politely. I know she means well. She even musters a smile of her own, in spite of the conversation I’ve started. “The Shepherdson family practically owns this whole town. Apparently, they settled out here a gazillion years ago and claimed every kernel of sand before anyone else got here.”

Nate chuckles. “That’s not entirely accurate, hon. Earl Shepherdson came out with his family back when there was nothing but open country out here. They settled inland. Made their living from raising cattle. Later, his son William took over. He’s the one who took the land they owned and turned it into a fortune. By the time his son and grandson came along, the family business was booming. And yeah, now they own damn near every vacation rental between here and the moon. Including the place you’re talking about. ”

I experience one of those light bulb sensations. “Hey, was that Earl Shepherdson’s ranch we were at yesterday for Sophie’s party?” I’d seen the sign. Just hadn’t really registered it. Until now. If it was the Shepherdson ranch, it would make sense.

“It was.” Nate puts down his paper, giving up on it for good. “His son Willie—William—lived there his whole life. Right up until he died about four years ago. Supposedly the ranch went to family. His grandson’d be my guess, but as far as I know, no one’s doing much with it these days. Other than just keeping it running.”

I slurp some oatmeal from my spoon. Sophie giggles. Kirsten shoots a dagger from her eyeballs straight for my face. I slurp some more. “So who’s this stupid grandson of his letting the place go to waste?”

Nate’s trying hard not to smile. Not because he thinks slurping oatmeal is funny, but because his daughter does, and her little laugh is nothing if not infectious. But then, so is my sister’s scowl. “James Shepherdson. And I don’t know that I would call him stupid.”

I cock my brow. “Really? If you ask me, anyone who has access to a place like that and then just sits on it sounds pretty damn stupid to me.” My whole life I fantasized about owning a ranch like that one someday. I spent hours upon hours just dreaming up all the things I would do with it. Horse-related services I would offer. Training facilities I would set up. The list went on and on.

But Nate doesn’t get it. Why would he? He’s a suit and tie guy who probably hasn’t ever stood close enough to a horse to even know what one smells like.

“You know, for someone who has a pretty interesting story of her own, you’re pretty quick to jump to conclusions on someone else’s, Quinn. The Shepherdson family went through hell these last few years. James Senior and his daughter were killed in a car crash almost five years ago. Old Willie had a stroke the night it happened because he couldn’t cope, and then died less than six months later. The whole family empire landed square in his grandson’s lap, and there’s a whole hell of lot more to it than just enjoying the fortunes it comes with.” Nate lowers his head, shaking it slowly, and I wonder how much more he knows that he’s not telling. I get the feeling he knows this James guy personally. Like maybe they were friends in the past. “I’m guessing that’s why his wife took off. Took all three kids with her. After that, James Shepherdson just kind of dropped off the face of the earth. Business is still running, though. Ranch is still standing. So he’s a far cry from stupid if you ask me. Unmotivated, maybe. But not stupid.”

“Fair enough.” I suddenly feel like I need to play a one-upping game of personal tragedies with this guy. It’s stupid. I don’t even know him. And, in all fairness, he’d probably win. I’m pretty sure I’d have to disqualify myself anyway, since tragedies typically aren’t self-inflicted. Besides, really, I just feel like an ass for being so judgmental and then being called out for it, by Nate of all people.

“Why are you asking about the Shepherdson place anyway?” Kirsten’s otherwise perfect face is still showing a distinct line of disapproval straight across her forehead.

“Wasn’t really asking. Merely pointing out that there’s a castle bigger than your majesty’s sitting smack in the middle of your kingdom.”

This time Nate’s not as successful at hiding his amusement, and Kirsten swats him with a dishtowel. “God! You two are ridiculous. Why would I care if there’s another house bigger than mine? Ours.” Her little slip is reason enough to drop the topic altogether and move onto something else. “Meanwhile, C.J. invited all of us over to their place today. Rick is cooking out on the grill and she’s invited over a few other families as well. The girls can all play in the pool. It’ll be fun.” She’s nodding at me with an extra dose of enthusiasm, probably hoping some of it will spill over and land in my oatmeal or something .

I push away my bowl. Just in case. “Sounds like you guys are going to have a great time.”

“And?” The only thing raised higher than her brows right now are her expectations of me.

“And I’ll be there suffering in silence.” Only, even as I say it, I realize I’m not actually bothered by the prospect of spending the day with Kirsten’s friends. I wait a moment to see if the panic attack is merely delayed today, but nothing happens. I feel...nothing. Not happy. But I’m not visualizing myself crawling up the walls using my teeth and fingernails either, so that’s bound to mean something.

Apparently, Kirsten’s noticed as well. “What’s going on?”

I do my best to look innocent, but I feel a smirk spreading on my face, so I reach for my glass of juice to try and hide it. “Whaddayamean?”

“You. There’s something different. You didn’t even try to get out of coming with us. What happened between yesterday evening and this morning to take you from the terrified of happy people recluse to this casual ‘sure why not, parties are no big deal for me’ person sitting in front of me?”

Cowboy and his five orgasms happened. But I can’t tell her that. She’ll freak. Provided she even believes me. Actually, she probably won’t. I set my glass down and look her straight in the eyes. “I got laid.”

Without saying anything to either of us, Nate gets up from his seat and scoops Sophie up in his arms. “Come on, sweetie. We’re going to let the big girls sort this one out without us.”

Kirsten waits for her husband and daughter to turn the corner and disappear down the hall. “You going to tell me what’s really going on now, or what?”

I want to. I really do. I want nothing more in this world than to tell my sister everything. But I’ve tried. So many times. We never agree. Neither of us ever understands the other. In the end, I’m never able to live up to her standards. I understand why she sets them so high. I really do. But I can’t stand letting her down anymore. I don’t want to see her disappointment, or the disapproval she’s bound to express if I tell her what really happened. Who really changed me. So I don’t. I lie.

“Honestly? I went for a run just like I said I was going to. I just went for a longer run than I’ve ever gone before. After our talk in the car...and being out with the horses again...I felt like everything was closing in on me and I just needed to...blow off some steam.” I shrug. “So I did. And I didn’t come home until all of that pent-up anxiety and anger and fear mellowed out a bit. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still all broody and cranky just like before.” I grin to ease the tension. “But going out last night definitely took the edge off.”

Kirsten scans me with her mommy vision, and I’m really hoping it won’t work on me since I’m her sister. “Well, if running is really all it takes, may I suggest you start upping your mileage? Maybe even start going twice a day?” She breaks into a small smile as well. “Because this is nice. Seeing you less tense. It’s almost like some old part of you is clawing its way back to the surface.”

I do my best to smile back. “Yeah. Maybe.” I don’t have the heart to tell her that’s not possible.

As per Kirsten’s suggestions, I do start running twice a day. However, it’s not really having the same effect since I’m purposely running my old route. The one that takes me away from Cowboy and not to him.

I mean, I got the feeling I was welcome back when I left, but it wasn’t exactly discussed. Nothing was really discussed. That was a big part of what I liked about our encounter. The absence of talking. The lack of questions. The just being. No past. And sure as hell no future. And with that in mind, I keep running. As far away from his place as possible .

Until now. It’s five a.m. and I’m on the sand. Alone. Running for my life. Running toward his house. I had a dream. The dream. Only this time I couldn’t wake up in time. When I finally broke free from the iron grip of my own sleep, I was drenched in sweat and screaming. Thank God for the extra soundproofing they did when they turned the downstairs into the gaming slash movie room, or Kirsten would have been standing over me with a kitchen knife in hand and the cops on their way, ready to fight off whatever was coming for me. Only it’s too late for that. She can’t stop something that already happened. Neither can I. But with Cowboy’s help, I can forget.

It’s not until I’m standing in front of his door in the dark about to knock that I realize how insane this is. He doesn’t know me. I don’t know him. One random hookup does not give me permission to stand on his doorstep in the early morning hours expecting another one. On the other hand, I’ve never met a guy who turned down sex.

I need to have sex. With him. Right now.

I’m still pacing back and forth in front of his door, trying to decide what to do, when it opens and his broad frame fills the entire doorway.

Looking half-asleep, he rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. “Is it working?”

I stop dead in my tracks and stare back at him. “Is what working?”

He loosely points in my direction. “Whatever that was you were doing out here before I interrupted you.”

I bite my lip. Offering sex to a perfect stranger is only sexy when you don’t look like a jackass while offering. “I didn’t know you were up. ”

Much to my frustration, the left corner of his mouth creeps up into the hottest-looking half grin I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m having flashes of what it felt like to have his lips pressed to mine, and my calves tighten as my body instinctively preps to pounce on him. Then he speaks.

“So is this like a frequent thing you do now? Pace back and forth outside my apartment at night while I sleep? Call me crazy, but that seems like a misuse of your time and energy considering what we could be doing with it if you brought it inside. Not to mention, the wrong guy might find it to be a little on the psycho-stalker side.”

I want to be pissed. Offended. Turn around and stomp off with a haughty huff. But instead I practically tackle him, flinging my arms over his neck and jumping up to wrap both legs around his waist while he catches me like this is neatly timed choreography we’ve practiced many times over.

My lips move with an almost frantic need, seeking out his mouth and waiting for his kiss to take me in. Somewhere in the distance the door slam shut, and I know we’re inside. Safe. He’s got me securely in his arms, moving across the small apartment until we’re in the bathroom.

“What are we doing in here?” I ask, catching my own reflection in the mirror as he sets me down. I flinch. This isn’t going to work. I can’t escape myself while I’m watching the whole thing.

“Multitasking. I’ve got to be at work in less than an hour.” He reaches past me and into the shower. Half a second later the water come on.

“Oh.” Shower. Steam. The mirror will be fogged up in no time. “Um, thanks for squeezing me in.”

His hand slides down to my ass and pinches it hard. “No problem. Tomorrow don’t waste so much time strolling around on my front porch before you come inside.”

Tomorrow. “I won’t.” I barely get the words out before his lips seal themselves to mine again. God, this man can kiss . And speaking of multitasking, my clothes are already lying on the floor somewhere, mixed in with the sweats he was wearing when he answered the door.

Using one arm to open the shower curtain, he keeps the other snaked tight around my waist as he backs both of us into the hot stream of water. Giving me the prime spot, he briefly breaks away, taking a step back to watch as the water runs over my naked body. It’s weird because I despise being watched. Maybe because I’ve spent years attempting to be invisible. My survival was kind of dependent on it. But now, with him, it’s different. He’s not studying me in search of flaws. He’s not seeking out my weaknesses. He’s simply enjoying the sight of me. And I’m enjoying being seen.

A mischievous smirk trails his lips as he reaches for a bar of soap and begins to lather it up under the water. Next, he turns me around and begins to move the suds over my shoulders, slowly working his way down. It’s the most sensual thing I’ve ever experienced. Combined with the bubbles and water, his otherwise callous hands are softly moving over my now silky-smooth skin.

His hands continue to move around to my front, gently caressing my chest and stomach. One arm wraps over my breasts, holding me to him, while the other reaches down, still moving in soft circles over my skin and washing my hip and top of my thigh. Dropping my head back to his chest, I close my eyes and let myself get swept away in the moment as his hand slides between my legs.

Behind me, I can feel him. He’s hard and ready, pressing against me, and I curl my arm around my back, then wrap my hand around his large shaft.

He moans into the curve of my neck, and the sound mixed in with the sensation of his hot breath against my skin turn me on even more. I tilt my head back to kiss him just as his mouth is coming for mine. I turn around to face him, then, moving together, our hands mimic the rhythm of our bodies. It doesn’t take long before my back is arched against the cold wet tiles of his shower and I’m gasping for his kiss, and air, and a functioning brain cell, because all that’s left of me is turning to putty in his hands as the sensation climbs until it spreads into every last inch of my being.

“Oh my God, Cowboy,” I whisper as he brings me to him, letting the now cold water run over both of us.

“That’s not my name,” he rumbles into my ear as he begins to wash my hair.

“I don’t care.” I move my hands over his chest, rinsing what’s left of the suds from his skin.

He stops what he’s doing and lifts my chin toward him. “You don’t know my name, do you?”

I want to turn my head away from the intensity of his gaze, but his thumb and finger have a firm hold of my jaw and I’d have to force it to move. I’m not doing that. The last thing I want to do is make a big issue out of this. It’s not.

“I don’t need to know your name.”

He lets go of my face and shakes his head. “What? Afraid things will get too serious if you actually know who I am? Trust me. They won’t. They can’t. This? It can’t be more than what it is right now. Ever.”

I laugh. Maybe because this conversation is making me uncomfortable. Maybe because it’s annoying me that he’s trying to turn the tables on me, like I’m the one who’s trying to turn this into something deeper than two strangers fucking for the sheer fun of it. “Oh, believe me. I know that. There’s no way I’m falling for another asshole who doesn’t have his shit together.”

Fully expecting him to have his little male ego bruised by my comment, I spin around and turn the knob, bringing our shower to an instant ending .

This conversation is a total buzzkill, and it’s ruining the phenomenal orgasm I had less than five minutes ago, which truth be told is pissing me off, considering it’s what I hauled my ass over here for this morning.

“Quinn,” he says my name. Calmly. I don’t know if he’s making a point about knowing it, or just wants me to stop huffing and puffing around his bathroom like an angry five-year-old. Either way, it works, and I stop moving long enough to let him wrap a large towel around my soaking wet body.

“You know, just because we’re not going to have an emotional relationship, doesn’t mean our physical one wouldn’t benefit from a certain degree of communication,” he says quietly as he rubs the excess moisture from my hair with a smaller towel he pulled from the hook by the sink. I can’t help but notice how good he is at this. This nurturing thing. And how easy it is for me to let him. And then I quickly try to forget.

“I’m not good at that.” Not with people anyway. It’s one of the main reasons I’ve always been drawn to animals. They’re less complicated. And for some reason, they make me less complicated. And then I realize that’s why I like being around Cowboy. He makes me feel the same way.

He unravels the towel from my body and uses it on himself before he tosses it into the hamper next to the door. “We’ll stick to the basics. For starters, when you talk to me, you call me Riker. Because that’s my name. And I hate goddamn nicknames.” He leans in and kisses the top of my head. “And when you want to come over, you knock on the door and let yourself in. You don’t pace back and forth outside and make me guess if you’re coming or going.”

I suck in my bottom lip. I’d rather chew it off right now than let him see me smile. “I can probably manage that.”

He gives me a sideways glance.

So I add, “Riker. ”

He nods, satisfied.

Releasing my lip from my teeth, I turn around and bend over to retrieve my clothes from the floor.

“Whoa. What do you think you’re doing?” His arm slides under my chest, bringing me back into an upright position.

“Getting my clothes so I can get out of here.”

He turns me toward him, a telltale smirk on his face. “What makes you think it’s time to go already?”

Confused, I search the bathroom for anything that functions as a clock. “I thought you said you had to get ready to go to work, so I figured I better get out of here and let you do what you’ve gotta do.”

Riker grins like I said something funny, and I recognize the look in his eyes. It’s the one he gets right before he kisses me. “You’re not getting out of here until after I get inside of you.”

I suck in a ragged breath just as his lips come crashing down on mine again. Next thing I know, his hands are reaching down to the back of my thighs and he’s lifting me up and setting me down on his bathroom counter. He can’t possibly be ready again. Although, truth be told, I am. Holy shit, I’m not just ready, I’m already desperate.

The intensity of his embrace ebbs as he pulls back, and through half-closed lids I watch him watch me in the aftermath of his kiss. His thumb gently brushes over my lips, and I flick my tongue out to catch it. He slides it into my mouth, and I softly suck the tip of it, imagining what it would be like to give him a blowjob and wondering why in the hell I haven’t done it yet.

He clears his throat like he’s trying to gain control of himself, and I open my eyes again. He cups my face in both of his hands, then rests his forehead against mine as he groans. “Jesus Christ, Quinn.” After a moment, he stands up tall again and flips open the door to the medicine cabinet. He wasn’t kidding the other day. It really is overflowing with condoms and toothbrushes. Not that I’m surprised. A guy doesn’t get this good at what he’s doing without practice.

He grabs a condom from the only open box, slides it between his teeth, and flips the door shut again. Then he grips my ass in both his hands and carries me into the bedroom where he drops me, rather unceremoniously, onto his mattress.

“Hey!” I try to sound indignant, but I’m giggling.

“What? I figured a hard-ass like you could handle it.” He’s doing the annoyingly sexy half-grin thing that makes me want to launch myself across the room and attach myself to his mouth. But I don’t. I just watch as he pulls up his jeans, covering up the nicest ass I’ve ever seen on a man. Rummaging through the pile of clothes on his recliner, he finally finds what he’s looking for and throws it my direction.

I catch it. It’s a t-shirt. “What’s this for?”

“Easy access.” He wiggles his eyebrows, dropping his gaze below my belly button.

“Pervert,” I mumble, but I’m putting the shirt on, so I clearly don’t have a problem with it.

Meanwhile, he’s still shirtless as he makes his way into the small kitchen. I follow him and find him bent over with his head inside his nearly empty fridge.

“Water?” He offers me a bottle and I take it. It’s ice cold and delicious.

“So what’s for breakfast?” Judging by the takeout boxes in front of him, it’s a choice between cold pizza and cold egg rolls.

But he closes the fridge without taking out either one. “You are.”

“Excuse me? ”

He just nods, slowly backing me into his kitchen table where he lays me out flat before he spreads my legs and does that thing he does where he just takes in the view. Like I’m some sort of a natural phenomenon he can’t quite believe he’s witnessing with his own eyes.

Riker takes the water bottle I now have in an iron grip from the anticipation of what’s about to happen and moves my hands to the top of my head at the edge of the table.

“Don’t move those,” he warns softly. Then he takes a long sip of the ice-cold water before he lowers himself between my thighs.

The second his tongue touches me I want to jump out of my own body from the sensation. The chill of the water and the heat of his breath are coming together on the most sensitive part of me, and I can’t help but writhe under his touch. Then the palm of his hand comes to rest heavily on my stomach, holding me in place while he continues to inflict the most euphoric torture on me I’ve ever endured.

“Riker. Oh, God. Riker!” I want to say his name over and over again, because I want him to keep doing what he’s doing, over and over again. But his idea of pleasuring me is a lot like watching the waves on the sand. They come closer and closer and then, just as you think you’re about to get soaking wet, they retract and return to the sea. And I love it. But I hate it too. Because I want to feel it all. And I want to feel it now. And mostly, I’m terrified of how much control he has over me in these moments. How he can manipulate my body into doing and feeling exactly what he wants. But I let him because it feels too damn good not to.

I’m clawing the edge of the table and I swear I’m on the brink of coming when I feel him moving away and force myself to open my eyes again just in time to see him slide the condom over his perfectly erect penis.

Grabbing my hips, he tugs me to him, and I sit up to watch him move inside me. It fascinates me. And it turns me on beyond reason .

Riker moves his palm up under my shirt and gently presses down on my chest, making me lie back down. “I thought I told you not to move,” his deep voice growls quietly.

As soon as I’m spread out on his table again, he begins to thrust inside me, pulling nearly all the way out before sliding back in until he fills me completely. He does this several times before gripping me harder with both hands and building the intensity of his motions until I’m screaming his name from the waves of pleasure washing over me, this time taking me from head to toe and pulling me under to the place I’ve been yearning to go ever since I ran out of my sister’s house this morning.