Page 87

Escape is just a fantasy.
Life as Brock Morris’s good little rancher’s wife is the best I get to hope for. Ask anyone in this valley and they’ll tell you it’s more than I deserve.
When all I can do is stare back at him, half-sitting on my stool, Went drops his arms on a sigh before making his way to my side of the kitchen island. Stopping in front of me, he reaches up to close his hands over my biceps, lifting me back onto my stool. “I’d like you to look at me, please.” When my gaze stays nailed to the broad wall of his chest, Went sighs. “Sunshine…”
Tilting my head, I feel my heart stutter in my chest when our eyes connect.
“That might be who they tried to make you into, but that’s not who you are.” His hands move, rough palms sliding over the rounded slope of my shoulders to cup my face. “You’re not your father’s whipping post.” He skims him thumbs across my cheekbones. “You’re not your sister’s doormat. You’re not that fucker’s dutiful little wife—not here. Not when you’re with me.” Leaning over me, Went lowers his head to brush his mouth against mine in a kiss that makes me lightheaded. “When you’re with me, you get to be whoever the fuck you want to be. With me, all you have to do is ask.”
Anything.
“In that case, you can make your own fucking breakfast.” As soon as it comes out of my mouth, I hold my breath. Wait for the sky to fall. The seas to boil.
All Went does is grin at me.
“You sure do like the word fuck, don’t you?”
When he says it, I feel the corners of my mouth lift. “The only thing more fun than saying it, is doing it.
This time, Went laughs.
“There she is.” Leaning forward again, he presses a hard, quick kiss against my mouth.
Still smiling, I feel my heart trip over itself, skipping a few beats. “There’s who?”
“The girl who isn’t afraid to dick punch me if I get out of line.” He grins at me, both relieved and amused. “I know how to cook exactly three things, Sunshine—lucky for the both of us, scrambled eggs just happens to be one of them.” Dropping his hands away from my face, Went makes his way back to the other side of the kitchen. Within minutes, he’s whipping eggs and melting butter in a skillet. Browning toast and pouring orange juice. As soon as it’s plated, he slides it across the kitchen island and offers me a fork.
“Where’s yours?” I ask while I take the offered utensil.
“I’ll eat after my run,” he tells me, waiting for me to dig into the eggs before he moves again. Stacking scrambled eggs on buttery toast, I watch him pull a quart-sized Ziploc out of one of the kitchen drawers along with a clean dish towel. Carrying both to the refrigerator, he opens the freezer and fills the bag with ice. Zipping it closed, he sets it on top of the dishtowel before pulling a tall drinking glass from one of the upper cabinets and filling it with cold water from the tap. After retrieving a bottle of ibuprofen from the windowsill above the sink, he carries the lot of it across the kitchen to my side of the island.
Chewing, I watch him set all of it on the counter, next to my laptop. Swallowing, I shake my head. “What’s all this?”
“All this is for you.” Picking up the bottle of meds, he pops the top off of it and shakes two round, reddish-brown tablets into his palm. “For the soreness,” he says, holding them out to me. When I open my mouth to tell him I’m not sore, Went cocks a dark brow at me. “The only thing you’re not allowed to be with me is a stubborn liar.” He gives the pills in his hand a jiggle, making it clear he’s prepared to stand here all day if that’s what it takes.
“Fine.” Holding out my hand on a sigh, he gives me one of those infuriatingly sexy smirks while he drops them into my palm. Tossing them in my mouth, I reach for my coffee but Went pushes it out of reach before I can get to it while simultaneously pushing the glass of water into my hand.
“No more coffee today.”
Scowling at him, I lift the water, taking a small sip to wash down the pills, slowly dissolving on my tongue. Swallowing them on a grimace, I shake my head. “I don’t like water.”
“That’s too bad, Sunshine because you’re going to drink that whole glass.” Turned away from me, Went spreads out the dishtowel before setting the plastic bag full of ice in its center. “And then you’re going to drink seven more, just like it.”
Watching him fold the dishtowel around the bag of ice, I wait for him to pick it up and turn toward me before I speak. “Why?”
Stepping into me, icepack in hand, Went heavy, black gaze falls to my mouth while he slides his empty hand over the top of one of my bare thighs to give it a squeeze, signaling me to open them. When I do, he pushes the icepack between my legs. “Because Sunshine…” Pressing the icepack into the juncture of my thighs, he lowers his mouth to mine, running the tip of his tongue along the line of my lower lip before giving it a stinging nip with his teeth. “I need this pretty pink pussy as hydrated as possible if I’m gonna fuck it later.” The corner of his mouth twitches when my breath hitches in my chest. “You do want me to fuck your pussy later, don’t you?”
Finding that Kait again, I nod, hips rocking forward in my seat when he begins to work the icepack deeper between my thighs. “The later is debatable.”
Giving the icepack a final press, Went pulls his hand from between my legs on a low groan. “The later, is non-negotiable.” His eyebrows pull together in a frown. “You’ll be here when I get back.”
Even though it sounds like an order, I know it’s not.
Went isn’t ordering.
He’s asking.
He’s afraid I’ll sneak off while he’s gone. That maybe he won’t see me again.