Taken Read online

  She stepped up on the porch and moved to the door before knocking with a quick, decisive rap of her knuckles. And she waited. Holding the keys tight in her hand, one sharp point ready if need be. She jerked a little as he opened the door and stared back at her in surprise.

  “Miss Sair,” he drawled, leaning against the door frame. “What can I do for you?” The amber highlights in his eyes seemed to spark, flare.

  “I wanted to thank you.” She refused to twitch or stutter. “For what you did at the store.”

  His expression tightened as he lifted himself from the door frame and stood back. “Come on in.”

  “But I just wanted…”

  He reached out, gripped her wrist, and pulled her in before closing the door behind her.

  She never once thought to defend herself. She stood in the small foyer, a frown tugging at her brow at the thought. Had she forgotten how dangerous even innocent things could seem? She must have, because she wasn’t frightened of the large, dark man looming over her.

  “I didn’t do anything,” he said, turning away from her. “Come on out back. I was just putting lunch on the grill. You can share it with me.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose.” But she did, she really did want to impose.

  “Get your butt back here.” His voice held a thread of command that had her following him slowly.

  He stopped at the fridge in the kitchen, reached in, and pulled out a thick, raw steak before adding it to the platter on the table. There were vegetable kabobs, steaks, and shrimp kabobs.

  “Are you expecting company?” There was a lot of food there.

  “Nope. Just me.” The ever-present T-shirt shifted over the hard muscles of his chest, shoulders, and biceps. The action made her mouth water, made her sex swell and come into agonizing contact with the little curved bell that pierced the hood of her clit. “Grab yourself a beer and come on out. I have to get the grill heated up before I can put on this stuff.” He paused as he covered the platter and set it back in the fridge. “Or, the whisky is in the cabinet.” He grinned. “Whichever you prefer.”

  She chose the beer, though she would have preferred the whisky, and followed him out to the deck.

  The wide wooden deck matched her own. One half was covered, the other open. Cooper moved to the large grill in the uncovered corner and set the flame to it before lowering the lid and turning back to her.

  She held the beer in both hands, watching him. Watched as he picked up his beer from the wooden table beside him and took a long drink, staring at her, his gaze heavy-lidded, thick black lashes framing his hazel and amber eyes.

  “Are there rules in a small town?” she asked him then, for a lack of anything better to say. “No one wanted to talk to me until you made them.”

  He grimaced at that. “I checked around. The no-touch policy in my bar got kind of mixed up.” He shrugged. “That happens sometimes. People were just a little wary, uncertain of what was going on. In little towns like this, everyone tends to watch newcomers suspiciously for a while, anyway. The twist in the order in the bar making its way around town just snowballed. I’m sorry about that.”

  “You must have a lot of power in town then.” She frowned. She hadn’t realized a small town had a power base. Rather like society. It didn’t matter how much others liked you; if a prominent figure didn’t, you could be ostracized immediately.

  Cooper grimaced again. “I don’t have a lot of power, Sair. I told you, others know what you don’t about me. I’m not a nice guy.”

  “Maggie liked you. And children are incredibly astute. Little Kyle reached up for you several times. And the store owner seemed to like you.”

  “Doesn’t mean anything in a town like this.” He sat down on the bench as she stood watching him. “I’m a hometown boy. And I don’t take much shit. They would act like they liked me even if they didn’t.”

  His stare was direct, honest. Sarah licked her lips and stared back at him, uncertain what to say. Her body was humming, as it always did around him. Vibrating with need. It didn’t make sense. Her nipples were hard and sensitive, her breasts swollen beneath her dress.

  “You’re wet, aren’t you?” His expression suddenly shifted, became sensual, filled with male lust. And if she hadn’t been wet before, she would have been in that instant.

  Sarah cleared her throat, speechless. “I’m sure a lot of women get wet around you, don’t they?”

  She’d surprised him. She watched his lips quirk, his eyes become more intense.

  “You’re messing with trouble, you know that, don’t you, Sair?” His voice deepened, became graveled. Rough. “You’re a nice, sweet little thing. And I’m a very, very bad boy. You sure you want to keep watching me with those hot little eyes and tempting me with that pretty body of yours? You should have a nice guy, Sair, not a man who’s forgotten all the softness in life.”

  Was he willing to be tempted? Sarah shifted slowly and almost moaned at the feel of the little piercing at her clit rubbing against her.

  “Perhaps I want to learn how to be bad,” she answered him softly then. “If you’re that bad, Cooper, then you could show me how to be bad. And I’ll remind you of the softer things in life.”

  Pure, raw lust tore through his system. Cooper stared at her, wondering if he looked as shocked as he felt, looked as damned hungry as he knew he felt.

  She stood there, her cheeks a little flushed, gripping that beer bottle with tight, nervous fingers. Her gaze was direct, though. A hint of heat, embarrassment, and something he didn’t want to look too closely at, filling her eyes.

  As he stared at her, a sudden thought shook him to the core.

  “Shit,” he muttered. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

  Her lips tilted a bit cynically. “Define virginity. Have I ever been with a man? No, I haven’t. But I haven’t had a hymen for years, Ethan.”

  She didn’t call him Cooper. Fuck. She was dangerous. Because calling him Ethan struck a soft spot in him he didn’t know he had. He liked the sound of it on her lips, the way her eyes softened when she said his name.

  He moved toward her then. Slowly, watching her. Her gaze met his, direct, unashamed. A little quiet. A little somber. There were shadows in those pale blue eyes, shadows that made him wonder exactly what lay beneath the surface of this proud little woman.

  And there was pride. Immeasurable pride.

  “Why?” He moved behind her, bent his head, and brushed his nose against the hair by her ear. He wanted to hear her voice, not be distracted by the need filling her eyes. “Why haven’t you been with a man, Sair?”

  Her throat moved as she swallowed tightly. “I was very sheltered for a long time, and after that, I had a hard time adjusting.” Sadness filled her voice. “And I was working. There was no time.” And there was a little lie.

  “Don’t lie to me.” He nipped her ear and felt her jerk. “Never lie to me, Sair. I don’t tolerate it well.”

  She was silent for long moments. “I don’t want a one-night stand. I don’t want a boy who doesn’t know how to touch a woman, or a man who knows only his own pleasure.” She turned her head and stared at him. “I’m not looking for love, Ethan. But I want to be held. I want to be pleasured. And I want to know how to pleasure. And I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you.”

  His cock was going to rip past the zipper on his pants, tear right through his clothes, and go for the glory. Hell.

  He took her beer and set it with his on the deck railing. Here, beneath the covered porch, the lattice surrounding the enclosed area, there were no eyes to see. Not that he really cared if anyone could see. He wondered if she would care?

  Turning her to him, he gripped the back of her neck, watched the pulse hammer in her throat, and stared at the way those pouty lips parted and her tongue stroked over them.

  Hell. He was gonna do this. She had said the magic words, though he didn’t know if he believed them. She said she didn’t want love. She wanted sex. She wanted
bad sex.

  “Nasty sex,” he whispered, lowering his lips until they feathered hers. “Hard sex, Sair. I’m a man. A hard man. And I love sex, baby.”

  There was the slightest little dip to her lashes and he bet she was creaming her panties. He bet when he touched that bare little pussy, he was going to find his fingers covered in her juices.

  “Touch me.” Her whispered entreaty tightened his balls. “However you want to, Cooper. Touch me, before I die for it.”

  “I won’t be easy.” He wrapped an arm around her hips, bent, and jerked her up to him.

  Her eyes widened, innocence sparkled like incandescent lights in her pale blue eyes, and arousal flushed her face. Her lips looked poutier, ready to plunder, to taste, to explore.

  Slender hands slid up his forearms as his cock throbbed behind his jeans, pressing against the soft flesh of her covered pussy. He was going to go down on her. As soon as he kissed her. As soon as he stilled the fire raging inside him for the taste of those pretty lips. He was going to lift her skirt, pull her panties aside, and devour her.

  “I didn’t ask for easy,” she spoke against his lips, a stroke of fire, of need.

  And he wasn’t going to give her easy. There was something in her eyes, in the needy little catch of her voice. The memory of those piercings and the way she drank that whisky. Sweet little Sair didn’t want easy at all. And that was a damned good thing, because Cooper had lost “easy” a long damn time ago.

  chapter 4

  sarah was swamped with sensation. Lost in it. Her fingers curled in ecstasy against strong, broad shoulders, and her lips parted beneath a kiss that was hot, hungry, and oh so good.

  He held her against him effortlessly, her feet dangling above the ground, his heavy erection pressed between her thighs. She lifted her legs as his lips moved over hers, slanted across them, his tongue taking hers. She slid her legs up his—feeling the power beneath them, the bunch of the muscle beneath his jeans—until her knees were gripping his thighs, and one of his hands slid to her ass, cupping it, holding her up.

  Oh, that was so good. She lost herself within the dreamy, seductive sensations flowing through her. Flames licked over her flesh, burned in her pussy. She gripped his powerful flanks, eased higher, and lowered herself, a moan tearing past their kiss at the incredible assault of sensation against the piercing rubbing her clit.

  Why was it different? Why couldn’t she pleasure herself with her own touch? It was the excitement, she decided. The dangerous, pulsing excitement thundering through her bloodstream, swelling in her clit and in her nipples. It was the knowledge that she was in the arms of a very dangerous man. But not a cruel man. She knew the difference. She had lived with the difference for most of her life.

  The inherent dark, seductive force of the man holding her drew her. It powered through her.

  “Fuck, you’re like dynamite,” he growled, tearing his lips from her, his head lifting, the amber in his hazel eyes almost like fire now.

  It set fire to her senses. He was aroused. Really and truly aroused for her. For her.

  “Make me explode then,” she panted. “I’m certain I have a very short fuse.”

  Cooper stared down at her, almost shocked. Her pale blue eyes were lit with hunger, with need. Her face flushed with it. Her knees tightened at his thighs as his hand clenched in the curve of her ass.

  Hell, he bet she could come over and over again. If Cooper thought he knew anything, then he knew a woman’s pleasure. He’d made it his life’s work. He’d put a lot of practice and research into the matter. Didn’t understand their minds. Had no clue how to decipher their emotions. But he knew how to give them pleasure.

  And he was betting his back teeth that he could make this little firecracker come like the fourth of July.

  She was innocent, but hotter than hell. He could see it in her, and suddenly the need to know why she was innocent, why she had picked him, was rising in his head.

  He’d tackle that problem later. Right now, Sarah was sweet and hot in his arms and he wanted her naked. He wanted her twisting, writhing, begging for release.

  “Let’s see just what it takes to make Sair come, then.” He grinned down at her, watched her eyes darken.

  “I want to see what makes Ethan come, too.”

  She’d surprised him again.

  Her hands smoothed over his shoulders. Her inquisitive little face, filled with hot feminine lust, held him transfixed.

  “Want to know what makes me come?” he crooned, lowering his head to touch her lips, watching her eyes flare.

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  “Sometimes, the simplest thing.” He nipped at that pouty lower lip. “I came like hell last week. In my attic. Staring down at your pool and watching you touch yourself.”

  Her eyes widened in shock. “You saw me?” There was the slightest hint of mortification in her voice. Just enough that he knew she was thinking more about her failed attempt to get off than she was about him seeing her.

  “I jacked off watching you.” He turned to the table that sat beneath the sheltered porch and sat her on it.

  “You liked watching me?” There was a hint of shyness, the pleasure building back as he smoothed her dress up her legs.

  “I loved watching you. And I’m going to watch you again.”

  She shook her head. “You touch me.”

  She was breathing so hard her tight little nipples were in danger of bursting through the front of her dress.

  “Oh, I’m going to touch you.” Just a little bit. Just enough to get her hotter, to make her wilder. “Then you’re going to touch me, Sair. Let’s see how hot we can make that pretty little body of yours.”

  He leaned back, jerked off his T-shirt, and had to clench his teeth. Her hands were there, on the thin mat of hair covering his chest and angling down the center of his body.

  Then her lips.

  Jesus. This wasn’t a woman who wanted all the pleasure for herself.

  He lifted his hands to her hair and pulled the clip from all those glorious curls, watching them fall down her back in a swath of silky ringlets. He couldn’t wait to feel those fucking curls over his legs as he fucked those full, luscious lips.

  “I want to touch you.” Her hands moved to his belt and Cooper grimaced at the want, the need in her voice.

  Not yet. Fuck, not yet. He wanted her silky and wild first. He wanted her screaming out in need.

  And he sure as hell wasn’t taking a virgin on a fucking picnic table. He was an asshole, but he hadn’t sunk there yet.

  “Not yet, baby.” He picked her up, ignoring her surprised breath, loving the way her hands clenched his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh.

  He bet she was a wildcat. All claws and silky heat. He couldn’t wait.

  “Where are we going?”

  “My fucking bed, sugar.” His voice was tight; hell, his whole body was tight. “I want room to do this right.”

  Sarah swallowed tightly as he moved into a well-lit bedroom. The bed was huge, dark. Sunlight spilled through the sheer curtains and open blinds on the windows.

  “There we go.”

  He laid her back on the bed, following her, stretching out beside her as he speared his fingers into her hair and held her head still for another of those deep, voracious kisses.

  She loved it. Loved his lips on hers, hungry and deep, his tongue licking and stroking, pushing into her mouth and teasing her tongue until she was tasting him, too.

  There was no hesitancy in him. Only hunger. Hard, male hunger.

  She arched into him as the skirt of her dress slid up her thighs. His hand, big and callused, stroked her leg, sending flares of white-hot sensations racing through her bloodstream.

  When his hand cupped between her thighs, she froze. Stilled. She felt her womb clench, her pussy convulse, and the pleasure. It was terrifying. She had never felt this before. Even in the darkest nights when the need had torn through her, she had never known this sensation.
/>   His lips lifted from hers.

  “Like that?”

  There was knowledge in his eyes. He didn’t move, just held his hand cupped over the curves of her sex.

  Sarah fought to breathe. Her eyes were wide, staring back at him, her body poised at an edge she was desperate to fly over and yet terrified to experience.

  “When I make you come, I’m going to make you scream my name.”

  His eyes were narrowed, more amber now than hazel.

  “Don’t stop.” Her hands gripped his wrist as he pulled back.

  “Easy, baby. We’re not ready to go there yet.”

  “We are. Really.” Sarah was desperate to go there. Her body was begging to go there.

  His chuckle was easy, dark.

  “Let’s get you out of these clothes. I’m not fucking you with that skirt around your hips.”

  She hadn’t anticipated that. “You could pull the shades,” she breathed out roughly.

  His smile was sexy, dark and exciting. “I like the way you look in the sunlight,” he told her. “I want to see it washing over those pretty breasts.”

  His hands went to the buttons of her dress and Sarah froze. She watched his face as he loosened them. There were dozens, from the high bodice to the hem of the dress. Each one that slipped free filled her with more dread, knowing what he would see.

  Would it turn him off? The scars were horrendous. Glaring. She felt her breath still in her lungs as she looked over his shoulder, waiting, fighting back the tears. She’d just wanted to know. She’d thought he’d take her on the deck maybe. Her skirt around her thighs. That she’d at least find release before she had to face this.

  Cooper’s eyes narrowed as Sarah tightened, tensed, with each tiny button that came loose. By the time he reached her stomach and pushed back the edges of the silky material, revealing her swollen, pretty breasts, she was stiff as a board.

  Stiff. Almost frightened.

  And he saw why. His fingers feathered over the six, very faint white lines across the tops of her breasts. As though a razor blade had sliced into the delicate skin just deep enough to scar. They weren’t zagged or puckered. Almost as though someone had drawn the thin lines over the tops of each curve.