Page 54 of Dark Horse

“Think real carefully about what you say next and the fact that you’ve been trying my patience all day with your boy out there.” He holds my gaze steady, and his icy-blue eyes look brilliant in this light. His thumb sweeps back and forth across my lips. “Now. We’re gonna walk back to the house, and you’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you?”

I narrow my eyes, but I don’t disagree with him. I have no idea what he’s up to, but I do know that arguing with him is futile at this point. I can’t get out of this rope without his help, and I have very little energy to keep arguing. But it doesn’t stop me from one last burst of defiance.

“I have zero intention of being anything for you. You don’t own me just because you’re helping me.”

Before I know what’s happening, I’m being manhandled. The rope’s being wound around me twice more, and then I’m being hauled up off my feet and onto the back of the horse. He throws me across the saddle like I’m a bag of potatoes.

“Asshole! I can’t believe you—” I start to shout but lower my volume when I remember I don’t actually want anyone running out here to find me like this. It would be way too much to explain, and he’d be happy to make the story much more colorful for them.

His hand comes down swift on my ass. Not enough to truly hurt, but enough that it leaves a stinging reminder in its wake.

“Call me another name, Hellfire. See what happens when we get back to the house.”

“Nothing’s happening when we get back to the house other than me marching right back out here to find Hayden and telling him I’m going to Cincinnati with him. You think you control everything, but you don’t.” I feel ridiculous arguing with him from this position as the horse starts to slowly walk us back to the house.

“I don’t think I control everything, but I definitely control you at the moment. And right now, you’re being an ungrateful little brat. So I’m going to treat you like one until you give me a reason to stop.”

“This is uncomfortable. At least let me sit right in the saddle,” I grumble.

He sees reason in that, pausing to help me get situated but refusing to loosen any of the binds as we ride back to the house.

“Someone is going to see me like this and think you’ve lost your mind,” I complain as we get closer.

“Someone is going to see you like this and congratulate me for doing the thing they wish they could, darlin’.” He looks up at me, smirking and shaking his head before his focus is back on the path ahead of us.

I press my lips together and glare at the back of his hat. This man is going to make me commit murder. One moment, I can’t get enough of him, and the next, I want to choke him out in the dirt. I thought maybe, maybe after a few moments of intimacy between us, he’d finally treat me with some respect, but apparently, that’s too much to ask. Daddy Grant can’t let go of the reins, literally or figuratively.

I glance around as we get onto the path to the barn, hoping like hell no one is around to see me like this. I can only imagine what they’ll whisper about, and it’s not like he gives a single solitary damn that he’s embarrassing me.

He makes quick work of getting me down and his horse back into his stall. He ties the rope to one of the cross ties in the aisle of the barn so I can’t run off, and I glare at him wordlessly. I’m done speaking to him. He can have silence for the rest of the damn day. Maybe the week. In fact, every picture I send him will probably just be my middle finger with my blurred body behind it. If I send him any pictures at all.

He looks at me, his eyes drifting over my body and my face before his lips draw up on one side.

“Plotting my murder?” he asks casually.

I press my lips tighter and look away. I hate his mind-reading abilities more than almost anything else about him.

“Ah. The silent treatment. That ain’t punishment though. Iget to look at you all tied up like this and not have it spoiled with you calling me names.”

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly as he closes the distance between us. I’m trying to remember the exercise my therapist taught me for moments like this. I’m too distracted by him though. Backlit from the open barn door, with his cowboy hat and a wry grin, he’s so different from the man that runs the casino—closer to the younger version I crushed on so hard. He leans in, tilting his head and putting his cheek against mine.

“I could fuck you like this you know. All pretty and tied up in knots. I bet I could make you talk for me.”

My defiance falters as I imagine finally having his hands all over me the way I wish he would. Him using me the way he sees fit. Even through my frustration and anger, it still holds appeal. I look over at him, catching his eyes from the corner of mine.

“You like the idea of that, don’t you? I thought so.” He unhooks the rope from the cross tie, occasionally looking up to make eye contact again as he does it. “I’m gonna take these ropes off you so Kit doesn’t chase me down with a skillet, but you’re gonna listen to me if you ever want any of those things I’ve told you I could do for you.”

He winds the rope around his arm, a thing that’s remarkably sexy as I watch his forearm flex with the movement. He hangs it up and turns back to me. I stretch my limbs, noting the way it’s marked my shirt. It was one of my favorites.

“How will I explain that?” I blurt the question before I can remember I’m not speaking. Fighting him was always a losing battle.

“Don’t worry about it.” He shakes his head. “We’re gonna take you inside and get you a change of clothes anyway.”

“What are we doing here?” I frown up at the ranch house. Ican’t imagine his plan is anything too nefarious, but I’m still wary.

“You’ll see.” He nods in front of us. “Lead the way.”

I take a tentative step, briefly wondering if I could outrun him all the way back out to the woods. But like he can read my mind, his hand darts out, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me tight against his chest.

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