Page 20 of Saddled in Secrets (Cloverleaf Meadows #2)

She shrugs. “Not really. I actually woke up really early. The mattress is softer than I’m used to.

My lower back locked up. Did some yoga to loosen the strain.

That helped, but a few specific exercises from physical therapy really eased the ache.

After that, I texted Paisley and gave her the address.

Listened to a chapter of my audiobook. Worked on the ear muffs for Luna.

Then I called my dad. He wasn’t at all surprised to hear you snatched me against my will. ”

I’m nodding along, but one part of her rambled recollection strikes deeper. “That’s unacceptable.”

“Which part?”

“The shitty bed.”

She waves that off as I grab my phone. “It’s okay. I’ve had much worse in very fancy hotels.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that here.”

“I’ll get used to it.”

Like hell she will. My bratty princess doesn’t suffer for a second if I can help it. She’ll be in better shape tonight, but that doesn’t fix the immediate problem.

“What can I do for you?” Or to her, if she’ll allow it.

The smile she gives me is soft. “I’m really okay.”

“Can I give you a massage?”

“Is that a serious question?” Bianca is already turning around, giving me access to her crooked spine.

My palms loom for a moment, deciding where to land. I choose to focus on the lower section. When my fingers dig in, she trembles and rewards me with a loud whine.

“Yessss, right there.” Her body goes lax, slouching against the chair for support.

My hands wander lower, rubbing into the tough spots at the base of her spine. The noise she expels lets me know I’ve hit the spot. Bianca is limper than a cooked noodle, allowing me to have my way with her.

“Don’t stop,” she groans.

“Never,” I murmur under my breath.

“Seriously,” her voice is hoarse. “How are you an expert at everything?”

“I’m very determined.” Which I prove by changing tactics, kneading into her muscles.

“Harder,” she demands.

My fingers are quick to comply. It would be better with oil against bare skin, but this is progress regardless. She’s letting me care for her. Willingly. That’s a privilege I’ll gladly accept.

Bianca shudders in my grip, prompting me to keep going.

Arousal flushes my skin the longer I work her over.

There’s no hiding what her sounds are doing to my dick.

And then she wiggles her ass as if that’s going to offer relief.

When she releases an especially sultry wheeze, I rip my hands off her shoulders as if she burned me.

It’s not far from the truth. Her throaty moans are trying to incinerate my willpower.

“Don’t you dare.” She shoves backward, nudging my cock in the process.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” I rasp.

As if proving a point, she grinds into me again. “I’m just trying to get at the kinks.”

“More like expose mine.”

Bianca glances at me over her shoulder. “Give it to me, big guy.”

“You’re not ready.” But I resume massaging her pain away.

She watches me as I focus on her needs. “You’re doing most of the right things, but it needs to be my choice.”

“I’m a patient man.” My palms drift lazily along her back. “I’ll wait for you to choose me. No matter how long it takes.”

Bianca opens her mouth to reply, but a loud bark interrupts her.

I’m moving before I even realize it. My long stride carries me to the hallway hutch where I stashed a Glock.

I didn’t get an alert about a perimeter breach from the high-tech security system I installed in this place.

That doesn’t mean shit when dealing with my father’s minions, though.

They can easily avoid the invisible shield.

Bianca gasps when I load a fresh magazine into the gun. The chamber is empty as I stalk toward the front door, but that can change quickly. A glance out the small window reveals no immediate threats.

“What are you doing?” She whisper-shouts from several feet behind me.

I thrust my arm out behind me. “Stay put.”

“You’re not going out there.”

“Don’t follow me.” And then I’m stepping onto the porch.

Muscle memory takes control. I’m on guard, prepared to shoot any intruders.

The familiar role slips over me like a comfortable shirt.

With the Glock pointed in front of me, I scan the area.

No fresh tracks mark the dirt. There aren’t any glints from scopes.

It’s quiet and still, but I can’t be too cautious. Not when Bianca’s safety is at risk.

I’m not sure why my father would go to such trouble to hunt me down, but I wouldn’t put it past him. A dying man is known to be careless is his final days. If they found us, there’s no telling how this might play out.

That’s when a bush rustles. I whip the barrel of the gun at the twitching leaves. My heart thunders as I click off the safety, bringing my finger to the trigger. A dog leaps from the shrub and runs straight at me.

It’s a scraggly thing—more bones than meat. I lower my weapon, but keep it ready. The pup takes that as a sign to join me on the stoop. A startled cry turns my blood to ice. But when I spin toward the sound, Bianca is staring at the mutt next to my feet.

I gulp when she hesitates to cross the threshold. My gut clenches as I wait for her to look at me. If there’s fear in her eyes—aimed at me—I’m not sure what I’ll do. But when those green depths crash into me, only concern is glimmering on the surface. For me? That can’t be right.

“Is it safe to come out?”

My gaze does another visual sweep of the property, finding no signs for concern. I nod in confirmation. “False alarm.”

She slinks forward, still unsure. “Did you think it was him?”

“Won’t take any chances.” Which reminds me. “I told you to stay put.”

Bianca swats my ass as if I’m a naughty submissive. “Since when do I listen?”

My body goes rigid. The spanking does something to me on an elemental level.

A quake rolls through me, hardening my dick into solid steel before I can register a sting.

It’s an odd sensation that immediately sprouts a hunger for more.

What the actual fuck? But now isn’t the time to evaluate the simpering response.

I rip myself from the fantasy about to take shape and glare at the woman responsible.

“It could be dangerous,” I growl.

“He looks harmless,” she coos at the scruffy dog. “Or are you a lady?”

The ball of brown fur and dirt thumps its tail on the wood.

That invites Bianca to lower into a crouch, extending her hand for the mutt to sniff.

With zero hesitation, the stray licks her fingers.

She giggles and begins petting its matted fur in exchange.

I’m tempted to taste her skin to get a similar reaction, but I wouldn’t get the giddy response this lucky pup is receiving.

“Are you lost?” Bianca smooths her palms along the dog’s skinny frame, confirming the gender with a peek under its belly. “Did the big man scare you with his gun, pretty boy?”

I scowl when she glares at me. “It’s for protection.”

Not to mention the countless others stored around the house and barn.

“We’ll talk about that later,” she croons in a voice meant to soothe babies. “First, we need to name you.”

A jolt electrocutes my body. “We?”

“Well, yeah. He’s ours until proven otherwise.”

Warmth stabs at me and spreads, expanding my chest until I’m about to burst. “You decide.”

“It should be a team effort.”

“Um, okay.” I search my memory, thinking of something she would choose. “Spud.”

“Spud?”

“Like a potato, which deserves its own food group,” I recite.

“Oh, my.” She blinks up at me with watery eyes. “That’s perfect.”

I avert my own stare before exposing more weakness. “He needs a bath.”

“Did you hear that? Daddy is very thoughtful. We’re gonna get you all cleaned up.”

And that just about does me in. We’re talking about a dog, but damn. That parental role effortlessly bestowed upon me solidifies our bond. She’s taking ownership with me, practically agreeing to be a family unit.

I let my smirk finally appear. The occasion calls for it. Bianca Benson is mine, whether she realizes it yet or not.