Page 15 of The Wrangler
“Find out where he’s been and if you can get some dirt on him that’s current. People like him don’t stop. What he did to Alyss, he’s done to someone else. Get the information I need.” He hangs up with out a goodbye.
If Alex is the predator my uncle thinks he is, then maybe he’s not a good man. But everyone here will hate me and they’re so nice.
But are they? Or are they kinky the way the photographers who took advantage of me were. Sexually deviant. Maybe they’re no different than people on the streets seducing young girls. And these people are building a club for other deviants.
But the rules they discussed the first night I arrived.
And the way they’re so nice to me contradicts everything I believe.
It doesn’t make sense. I can’t figure it out. But I have to. I owe it to my family and to young women everywhere to help stop men like Alex.
But even as I think it, I don’t completely believe it.
Seven
ALEX
“Hey, brother.”
I turn to face Gabe, freezing mid-swipe with my plaster. “S’up?”
“We’re ahead of schedule. I say we knock off early.” He’s probably missing his wife, Katherine.
Unlike me, he doesn’t have a reason to avoid going home. “You go ahead, I’m gonna finish this wall. I’ll catch a ride share.”
“You sure? I can stay.”
“No way. Katherine’ll beat me if she finds out I kept you late on a Friday for no good reason.”
“Don’t pretend you wouldn’t like it.” Gabe nudges my shoulder. “All right. I’m outta here. Don’t stay too late or Larry won’t come for you.”
The one ride share driver in the area who will take me all the way back to Alabaster. “No worries. Like I said, just finishing this wall.”
Except that I keep going. I finish all the tape and texture for the entire room. As I’m cleaning my tools and trying to figure out how to get home or where to sleep onsite, headlights flash in the windows.
Stone comes sauntering in a few minutes later. He glances around the room. “Looks good. Ready to go?”
I dry my trowel and tuck it in my tool bag. With a nod I follow Stone out, locking the doors behind us. I’d ask how he knew I was there, and without a car, but that would be wasted breath. Stone knows shit and he never reveals his sources. I’ll ask Gabe on Monday.
We don’t get back to the Sunflower until after midnight. I’m too tired to eat but I could use a shower. Stone is already headed up the stairs and I drag my ass up behind him. His bedroom door closes as I hit the landing. The hallway looks forever long and I have to go by SJ’s room. I’ve been working every hour there is to stay away from her and all her questions because every minute I’m near her is torture. I have to mentally and physically restrain myself from pursuing her. She’s captivating. And delicate. And a risk to every barrier I’ve put in place to protect myself.
Her door is ajar. Unable to help myself, I peek in. She’s curled in a ball on top of the covers, her phone by her hand. It’s a protective position but she’s exposed, her top having ridden up to her ribs. An elaborate color tattoo covers the small of her back—an elegant butterfly with a heart as its body, wearing a crown and surrounded by tendrils of flowers, vines, and leaves. The vines have captured the butterfly.
Does she realize what this says?
Does it mean the same thing to her?
Or was it just an impulsive moment of ink?
The tattoo had to take hours especially with full color. Nothing about it was impulsive. The urge to go to her, offer comfort is so strong I place my hand on the door.
What am I doing?
Walking into a room with a sleeping woman, uninvited, unsupervised? Hell no. I move my hand down the panel and close the door gently.
In the shower, I can’t shut my mind off as easily as I shut her door. Images of her butterfly framed by my ropes, her flying in the air, her curled in a ball, not in her bed but in my restraints as I rail my cock into her welcoming body. I press my hands to the tile wall, rest my forehead between them, searching for control. My cock is not onboard with that plan. Hard and aching. It throbs with the need to fuck deep into her and never come out.
This intensity makes no sense. I don’t even know her. I don’t trust her. I can’t get her out of my head.
