Page 49 of Wannabe in Wyoming
“Put me down, dammit! Nathan!” She was laughing so hard and wiggling so much, he was afraid he was going to drop her.
He smacked her ass in return. “Keep it up woman, and you won’t get your prize.” Rubbing his hand over where he’d spanked her, he decided he kinda liked it, so he did it again, imagining her pretty ass bright pink with his handprints. His already hard cock thickened even further at the thought.
She immediately froze. “Prize?”
“Yeah, only good wenches get my prized stud services.”
“Stud services! You’ve got quite the opinion of yourself, don’t you!?” She dug her fingers into his sides, tickling him mercilessly.
“Stop it! Fuck, I—” A loud pounding on the front door interrupted them, just as they reached the entrance to the bedroom. Willow’s hands stilled, and he set her gently onto her feet. Her face was flushed, and her eyes sparkled with laughter. Whoever was at the door better have a damn good reason for being there because, if not, they might just have to die—slowly. “Expecting someone?”
“Nope. I’ve no clue who that could be. Probably Jeremiah ignoring your mandate to stay away for the weekend, so you can have me all to yourself.”
“If it is, I’ll kill him.”
The knocking came again—whoever it was, they weren’t exactly being patient. Shrugging, she hurried past him into the foyer where she flipped on the porch light and opened the door.
“Willow, baby.” A man’s voice Nathan didn’t recognize broke through the last of the lingering joy from their roughhousing.Baby? No one gets to call her that but me,he thought before following her to the door.
Willow’s back straightened, and there was no mistaking the tension that suddenly appeared in her shoulders or the anger in her tone when she said, “What the fuck are you doing here? Did my shotgun not get my point across, asshole?”
Rushing forward the last few steps, Nathan stopped behind her and glared over her shoulder at a stranger standing on the porch.Shotgun?He remembered Willow telling him about confronting her ex, so this must be him—Andrew Phelps.
The asshole had some balls showing up here again. He wasn’t dressed for the weather and seemed unwashed. Thick black circles lined his watery gray eyes. His brown hair hung limp and dirty over his sweat-dotted brow.
“Willow, who’s this?” Nathan asked, even though he’d already figured it out. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he adopted the same expression he wore when dealing with idiot privates at work.
“Who am I? Who the fuck are you? Get your hands off my wife!” His face turned the color of a tomato, and his fists clenched at his sides as he glowered at Nathan.
Raising a brow, Nathan stared down at the smaller man, whose sweaty face and greasy hair shimmered under the yellow glow of the porch light. He knew the shotgun was beside the door but didn’t think he’d need it. Hell, he probably wouldn’t need more than one hand to deal with this arrogant nasty piece of garbage. What the hell had Willow seen in him?
“Wife? Try again, dipshit,” he spat while gently pushing Willow to the side and confronting the asshole head on. “Actually, scratch that, no need. I know who you are—you’re the sorry excuse of an ex-husband who was such a piece of shit that you thought sticking your tiny dick in Willow’s best friend was a good idea.” He stepped forward, forcing the smaller man to retreat to the top of the porch stairs. “I’mStaff Sergeant Nathan Casey, and I have the training, the ability, and trust me, thedesireto kill you with my bare fucking hands. You’re not welcome here, not now, not ever, and I suggest you get your ass gone before I take some frustration out on your face. Got me?” He punctuated his last words with a hard jab to Phelps’s chest.
The other man blanched, going sickly pale as he stumbled backward, tripping down the steps and falling flat on his ass in the snow.
“Willow?” The fight seemed to seep out of Phelps as he mewled pathetically. “Please. I just need help. Th-there’s these guys—I owe them money.”
She stepped out onto the porch next to Nathan, her arms crossed over her chest. She looked pissed and absolutely gorgeous in her anger. Fuck, he wanted nothing more than to get back to what they’d started before this asswipe had showed up. “None of that sounds like it’s my problem. Nothing that has to do with you has been my problem for a very long time, and it’s going to stay that way. I’m not giving you a cent, and nothing you say or do will ever change my mind. Leave. Now. I won’t tell you again.”
Nathan descended the steps and nudged the prone man’s leg with the toe of his boot. “And don’t come back. Lose her number too. Understand?”
Rage stole across Phelps’s face again as if a switch had been flipped, and Nathan wondered if the guy was on something to promote such rapid changes in response. “Fuck you! You have her now, but I had her first.” Scrambling to his feet, he glared at them both, his hate-filled gaze stopping on Willow. “You think you’re so much better than me, you stupid bitch. You have no idea.”
Nathan saw red, and his fist shot out before he realized he’d decided to act. His punch connected with Phelps’s jaw with acrack,dropping him like a stone in a pond as his legs crumpled and he landed in an unconscious heap of tangled limbs.
A heavy sigh resounded from behind Nathan. “Well, guess I’m calling the sheriff, huh?”
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Yeah, I’ll stay here and keep an eye on him. Toss me my coat will ya, baby? It’s cold as hell out here.” He almost laughed about how nonchalant they both were considering what’d just happened.Nothing to see here folks, just some jackass passed out in the snow.
After throwing him the coat, she only left the door open a crack, probably to keep the heat and Ethel inside, and walked deeper into the house. Moments later, he could hear her muffled conversation with Sheriff Grady Minor. Glaring down at her ex, Nathan debated on hauling the asshole by his feet out of the snowbank and up onto the porch but decided against it. Let him freeze.
“This wasnothow I saw this night going, you fucker.” He wanted to plant his boot into the bastard’s side, but he had more honor than that.
Phelps was just coming to, groaning and rolling over, when Sheriff Minor arrived in his department-issued SUV. The lawman must not have been too far away, since he’d gotten there rather quickly.
“Sheriff Minor, evening.” Nathan nodded, keeping his bare hands tucked into his coat pockets, since he’d left his gloves in Willow’s truck when they’d gotten home. “Got some trash for you.”
“I see that.” Glaring at the man struggling to his feet, the sheriff grabbed Phelps’s upper arm to help him stand, with obvious reluctance.
