Page 54 of Tempt Me

Tack chuckles at the thought of his seduction routine. I kiss both of his cheeks and ignore how his phone vibrates. Tack loses his smile as the world crowds us again.

“If there’s time, let’s take a quick shower together,” I suggest, gently lifting my hips and releasing his cock from my body. “I need you to make sure the taser burns are healing well.”

Tack’s fingers instantly search my back. I shiver at the feel of him on my bare skin.

“Are you going to check your phone?” I ask when it vibrates again.

Exhaling deeply, Tack stares at me like a sullen child. “I want to be alone with you.”

“Once I’ve dealt with the federal agents, we can focus on us while we wait for Carys to have her baby.”

Tack instantly smiles in reaction to my words. For years, he’s stifled his possessive nature by playing stalker rather than claiming me. I suspect we’ll both need a while to adjust to this new reality.

After Tack checks his phone, he explains how the federal agents will be at the farm in less than two hours. We hurry to the shower, where we soap each other up and wash away our afternoon lovemaking.

Back in Tack’s room, I go through my suitcases. I’m overly concerned about making the right impression with the federal agents. I guess I worry they’ll blame me if I seem slutty.

I nearly put on a shirt and pants completely inappropriate for a relaxing day at the farm. Stopping myself, I face where my fears are coming from and why they’re invalid. After the attack on Austen and me, her father hinted the rapes were a misunderstanding. I’d always sensed he believed Austen egged on the men. Or maybe he blamed me. Either way, I’d felt judged.

Back home with Suzanne, I saw things clearly and worked through those feelings with my psychiatrist. Now, I’m facing my guilt over yesterday’s deaths. Did I inadvertently instigate what’s happened the last week?

As I walk with Tack outside to find a late afternoon mugginess, I give myself a little talking-to about how the only person to blame is the one who hired the mercenaries.

I glance at Tack. He’s a powerful man capable of extreme violence. When I told him no, he likely wanted to force me to submit. Instead, Tack waited.

Yeah, he followed me around or had me tailed. However, that behavior was more about keeping me safe. He didn’t force himself into my space. When I asked him to leave my condo last week, he did so, even if it hurt him.

Tack loves me, yet he respects my boundaries. I should feel no responsibility for the asshole hunting me. His selfish needs ended lives. I’m not the bad guy. I don’t need to feel guilty.

Despite my mental pep talk, I’m nervous when Noble walks over to Tack and me in the open grassy area between the two main farmhouses.

The Backcountry Kings’ VP holds himself with a casual tension. I know Noble better than Zoot because he spends more time at the clubhouse. I’ve even played a few games of pool with him. He’s a friendly man who hides his true self. I’m beginning to see how much Tack does the same. Though they both act easygoing, they only reveal their true selves to very few people.

Right now, Noble seems calm. Yet, I’m unsure what he’s really feeling as he hands me three stapled sheets of paper.

“How are you feeling?” he asks me, but I suspect he’s also checking on Tack.

“Tired and nervous.”

“Don’t worry about anything,” Noble says, and I’m now certain he’s mostly talking to Tack. “With so many pigs running around town, Banta City is quiet. Plus, Zoot is pissed and hounding our every snitch. Mostly, he’s trying to find out about the dead mugger.”

Running his hands through his thick blond hair, Tack offers a grumpy shrug. “I did what anyone would do.”

Noble gives him a little smile before focusing on me. “We figure the mugger was someone in the main asshole’s circle. These others were hired guns. So, Zoot’s using his warm personality to scare people into giving up any details on the mugger. However, we plan to use the feds’ resources to track down different leads.”

Tapping the papers in my hands, Noble continues, “I was looking over your list of stalkers. It’s got a helluva lot of names.”

Feeling guilty again, I mumble, “Because I look like a slutty Molly Ringwald.”

Noble cups my jaw and smiles. “No, Hunter, you look like your mom.”

Though I grin at Noble’s words, Tack pushes his VP’s hand away from me. “No.”

Noble’s body language shifts, and I worry the men will fight. Then, Noble’s expression changes, and he sighs dramatically. “Good Lord, not this shit.”

“Why are you crowding her?” Tack says, standing between us now. “What’s this about?”

“Kid, I remember acting just like this. Of course, when I did the possessive-jackass thing, I was a young buck, and my behavior was adorable. You’re too old to act this way.”

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