Page 50 of Burn the Wild

I have to get Reese out of here.That lone thought takes over my brain.

I don’t think twice. I grab Reese around the waist and pull her off the bar. Toss her over my shoulder.

She shoves at my back, making huffy little sounds of protests. “What are you doing?”

“Protecting you, princess.” I hate the way she feels against me. Soft, warm skin. The curve of her hip on my shoulder. Her sharp nails digging into my arm. It’s sensory overload on my libido.

Reese squirms. “Put me down.” Then she screams. “Oh my god! Watch out!”

When I see a leather jacket-clad biker incoming, I greet him with an arm bar. He lands flat on his back, groaning. Reese yelps, jerking in my arms as I whip around. I slide my hand over her ass to keep her steady as I maneuver us through the crowd.

“You want me to put you down or get you out of here in one piece?” I grin because she can’t see me. Feisty little thing. “What do you want me to do?”

“Go,” she yells. “Go!”

I take a trained breath and muscle my way through the chaos. By the time we make it outside, she’s quiet. Or passed out. I can’t tell.

Dick aching, I slide her down my body until her heels touch the pavement. My hands stay on her hips. I hate to let her go. Hate to have her anywhere except my arms.

For one long second, we stare at each other, our faces inches apart. Too close, not close enough. The air is so taut, so electric, I can feel it buzzing from her to me. A live wire of want.

Normally, I’d chase this girl. But I’m not a prince and I don’t have a white horse. I’m a cowboy with baggage. I’m born to run. There’s no sunset in this future.

With a sharp gasp, Reese pushes away from me. She teeters on her heels, and then her eyes roll back as her legs buckle.

I catch her around the waist. “Whoa. Easy, easy.”

Face pressed against my chest, she moans and grips my shirt, trying to pull herself up. “I drank too much.”

I choke down a quiet laugh. “Honey, you drank a saloon.”

I lift her in my arms and carry her through the parking lot. When we reach the truck, I gently settle her in the passenger seat. After buckling her seatbelt, I climb in beside her and lower the windows. She sits there, emotionless, blonde hair like a halo around her head.

I dig under the seat and find a bottle of Gatorade. I hold it out. “Drink this.”

She sniffs.

Fuck. If she cries…

When her focus returns to me, silver lines her eyes. “You didn’t have to come and get me,” she whispers, accepting the Gatorade. “I would have found my way back.”

I turn out of the parking lot, leaving the bright neon of Nowhere in my rearview mirror. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Do you ever think about what someone could do to you when you drink?”

Reese chugs the Gatorade and wipes her lips with an exaggerated gusto that makes me smile. She leans her head back against the seat. “I just wanted to dance. No one likes me here. Especially after today.”

“Nothing wrong with dancing. What’s wrong is those guys with their hands all over you.” I shake my head, back to irritated. “You threw a glass of water in my face for calling youhoney, but you let Lionel Wolfington put his fucking paws all over you.”

Her lower lip trembles. “It doesn’t matter what they do to me. Everyone’s already done their worst.”

A chill goes through me. The way this girl talks.

“You shouldn’t let people touch you without your permission.” I still want to kill that creep who licked her leg. Disinfect it the second I get her back to the ranch.

I think of the way she acted tonight. The way she accepted their hands all over her body. Something tells me it’s part of her job. And it bothers me. A fucking lot.

“You did.” She sits up, turning to laser me with a look of devastation. “You lassoed me.”

I flex my fingers on the steering wheel. “You’re right. I did.”

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