Page 19 of Stalked By the Rancher

Mine! Mine! Mine!

“Sawyer!” She’s screaming my name in no time, and when I feel her little pussy fluttering around me, it’s all I need to make me come harder than I’ve ever come in my entire life.

We lay there in the grass, my girl cradled against my chest, both of us still shaking in the aftermath of our orgasms.

“No one’s ever going to take you away from me,” I vow.

She snuggles closer to my chest, and I stroke her hair. “Good,” she says.

My Nora.

EPILOGUE

One year later

Sawyer

The barn door slams open, nearly coming off its hinges, and there stands Edward Davenport. His face? Red like the devil's backside after a trip down a steep slide. He marches straight up to me, that vein in his forehead looking like it's about to pop.

"End it with Nora!" he barks, spitting fire with each word. "You've taken enough from her innocence, Blackwood."

I'm on my feet in a heartbeat, every muscle tensed, ready for whatever this storm's gonna throw at me. "Listen, Ed," I start, my voice low and steady, "I ain't taking advantage of nobody. Nora? She's something special, and I care about her. More than you know."

"Care?" Edward snorts, throwing the word out like it's a curse. "Is that what you call leaving hickeys on her neck? That girl is barely out of high school, and you're—what?—some big-shot rancher who thinks he can have whatever he wants?"

"Damn right I'm a rancher," I shoot back, stepping closer, feeling the heat from his anger and the chill from mine collide. "And I want Nora. But not like some prize, not like you're thinking. I want her heart, not just her body, though, hell, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want that too."

"Her heart?" he scoffs, shaking his head like I'm selling him swamp land in the desert. "You think love is marked by bruises on her skin?"

"Love is a lot of things," I say, my jaw so clenched it might crack. "It's messy, it's raw, and yeah, sometimes it leaves a mark. But it's real, Ed. What Nora and I have? It's as real as the dirt under our boots."

"Real or not, you'll end it, or I swear to God?—"

"Or what?" I cut him off, my eyes blazing now. "You'll take her away? Tell her she can't make her own choices? She's eighteen, Ed. And she chose me."

"Because you've blinded her with your... your..."

"Come on, Ed,” I interrupt him, “let's not pretend this isn't killing you because she's your little girl. I get it. But don't make her pay for your fears."

"Pay for—you think you're some kind of gift to her?"

"Hell, I’m no gift," I concede, my tone softening just a notch. "But I'm someone who'll fight for her, stand by her, and give her all of me. Can you honestly tell her she shouldn't have that?"

His fists clench and unclench at his sides, and I know I've hit a nerve. Maybe because deep down, he knows it too. Love ain't clean-cut and pretty like in those romance novels. It's gritty, it's hard, and yeah, sometimes it leaves you breathless and wanting more.

The barn door bangs open, and Nora bursts in, her breath coming fast. Her eyes are wide—like she's just seen a ghost in broad daylight. I can tell from the way she's looking at me, at her dad, that she's swimming in shock, trying to grasp what’s unfolding in front of her.

"Da-Dad?" Her voice shakes as much as her hands. She's caught between the fury in her old man's eyes and the stubborn set of my jaw, a deer trapped in the headlights of a slow-motion collision.

"Sweetheart," Edward's tone flips like a switch, all soft and pleading now, all that anger he had aimed at me turning into something like fear, "you gotta end this with Sawyer. For your own good."

He steps closer to her, reaching out but not quite touching—as if he's afraid she'll flinch away or break down. And damn, it slices through me to see her so lost, her father so desperate.

"Please, baby girl." His eyes are pools of worry, dark with the thought of her getting hurt. "I've seen things, been around long enough to know how the world works. He's older, experienced, and you...you're just starting out."

"Edward..." I bite back the urge to argue, to defend myself against his words, because this ain't about him and me right now—it's about Nora. It's always been about her.

"Look at me, Nora." Edward's got that edge of urgency creeping into his voice, like he's hanging onto reason by a thread. "You think you love him, but it's a big world out there. You don't need to get tied down to the first man who shows you attention."

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