Page 15 of Silver Spoon Falls, Vol. I

TWELVE

ADALYNN

It’s official. I have to move to Bolivia. The sheriff and one of the most popular rockstars ever, who also happens to be my boss, basically just saw my boobs. And they heard Razor threaten to spank me.

I press my hands to my overheated cheeks, groaning to myself as his threat replays in my mind. The thought of his hand on my ass is far too appealing. Which is proof that it’s way too early in the morning. Or maybe not early enough. I don’t know!

All I know is that he’s wearing those gray sweatpants and that ridiculous shirt again, and I’m beginning to think maybe he should keep wearing them indefinitely. Especially first thing in the morning.

I need coffee. And more sleep. I barely got any of that last night.

Not after I heard Razor on the other side of the wall, groaning my name.

I may be a virgin, but I’m not an idiot.

I know what that means. As soon as I heard that gritty sound of pleasure through the wall, my entire body erupted in flames.

I didn’t mean to touch myself, but I did it anyway. I pretended it was his hand between my thighs, sliding through my folds. He was the one circling my clit. He wasn’t on the other side of the wall, but in my bed with me, making me come.

I stifled my moans with the pillow as the orgasm took me. But not even the release took away the ache. I tossed and turned all night, unable to get comfortable. I should have been thinking about my stalker. That’s what any rational woman would be thinking about.

But all I could think about was Razor.

His caveman ways are turning my brain to mush.

“Get it together,” I coach myself, stomping toward the antique chair set up in the corner to grab my bag on the way to the en-suite bathroom.

I groan again when I catch sight of myself in the mirror.

My cheeks are flushed with color, my eyes wide and dilated.

I look like I spent the night in his bed.

Oh my gosh. The sheriff and Bender probably think I’m sleeping with him.

And what if they do? I hear Leia’s voice in my head. It’s not their business. You’re a grown woman.

Crap. Leia . My sisters are going to flip out when they find out I have a stalker.

So is Garrett. It’ll be a miracle if he doesn’t force me to move in with him as soon as he finds out.

Thank God he's out of town right now at a football camp.

If he were here, he and Razor would probably be fighting over which of them I was staying with.

I'm pretty sure Garrett would lose it simply because I want to be right here with Razor.

I quickly brush my teeth, throw my hair up into a high pony, and then slip on a maroon midi-dress I bought yesterday. Roger may think I have terrible fashion sense, but I think I look good in it. Not like an old lady at all.

Taking a final glance in the mirror, I head back out into the living room of Razor’s suite to see what the sheriff found out. The three of them are grouped up in the middle of the room, their backs to me.

Razor is tense, his fists clenched. It might be my imagination, but I think he’s growling.

“I suggest she stays with you until we catch whoever is behind this,” the sheriff says.

“Did he pay you to say that?” I blurt before I can stop myself.

They all turn to look at me.

“Jesus,” Razor rumbles, his hot gaze raking down my body.

He stomps across the room toward me, far too sexy to be real.

And yet, when he pulls me into his arms, I know this is all too real.

Razor Freaking Montgomery, as Gemma says, is nuzzling his face into my throat right now.

“That dress is missing about nine inches, pretty baby.”

“What? No, it isn’t.”

“Trust me,” he growls, nipping my ear. “It’s missing nine inches.”

He presses his hips into me, and I feel his… Oh. Oh!

“Razor,” I whisper. At least, that’s what I mean to do, except his name escapes in a breathy moan. I press closer, eager to feel more of him against me. He’s so hot and hard everywhere, like he was forged from tempered steel.

The sheriff clears his throat.

“Stop dry-humping your girl, fucker,” Bender says, amusement in his voice. “We’ve got important shit to discuss.”

My cheeks flame with embarrassment. I try to step away from Razor, but he growls and tightens his hold on me, refusing to let me go.

“Fuck off,” he mutters to Bender with casual familiarity.

Bender doesn’t take offense. He just laughs.

“He’s right. We do have important shit to discuss,” the sheriff says.

Razor huffs a curse and then presses his lips to my temple before reluctantly prying himself off me.

He turns me to face Bender and the sheriff, keeping me positioned in front of him.

“Adalynn, this is my brother-in-law, Dillon Armstrong,” he says, nodding at the sheriff. “And you already know this fucker.”

“Hi,” I mumble, lifting my hand in an awkward wave.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bender says. “You doing okay?”

“Yes. No.” I shrug helplessly. “Someone is following me, and they left a dead rose at my apartment. I’m creeped out.”

The three of them exchange a tense glance.

“What?” I ask.

Sheriff Armstrong glances at Razor, who grits his teeth like he doesn’t want to tell me what’s going on. But this is my life and my safety. I have a right to know what’s happening.

“Tell me,” I demand. “Whatever it is, I should know.”

“Fuck,” Razor growls, shoving a hand through his hair. “The fucker left a note.”

“Oh.” I swallow. “Um, what did it say?”

“Nothing you need to know about.”

“Razor.”

He growls wordlessly.

“I have a right to know,” I argue. “I’m the one he’s following around. I’m the one whose privacy he’s invading. If he left a note, I want to know what it said.”

“She should know,” Sheriff Armstrong agrees.

Razor scowls at him.

“I’d tell Jules,” he says simply.

“Fuck.” Razor tips his head down to me. “The note said that you belong to him and no one else.” His hand drifts along the side of my face, murder in his eyes.

“He was at the bar last night, Adalynn. He saw us together and is trying to scare you into isolating yourself, but that isn’t fucking happening.

You’re mine, and I protect what belongs to me. ”

“Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath. It’s not as bad as I expected, honestly. I thought he was threatening to unalive me or something. I mean, don’t get me wrong, none of this is good. It’s terrifying and invasive as hell. But I can deal with this.

I grew up bouncing from foster home to foster home.

My sisters and I were often separated out of necessity.

Not many people were willing to take on five little girls at once.

We didn't have stability. For months at a time, we didn't even have each other. But I survived that without falling apart. I’ll survive this, too. No creep is going to run me out of town or change the trajectory of my life because he feels entitled to something I’m not willing to give him.

This is my life, and I decide what happens to me.

I don’t belong to him. I never will. He doesn’t get to threaten me or try to scare me into a relationship with him. No way. Even if Razor weren’t here, hell would freeze over before I meekly accepted that.

“Okay?” Razor’s gaze scans across my face, trying to get a read on my expression.

The worried lights in his eyes fill me with warmth.

He’s the exact opposite of this creep in every single way.

He may be a caveman, but he’s shown me nothing but respect and regard in the last twenty-four hours. That matters to me. It matters a lot.

“Okay,” I confirm. “I’m scared, but I’m not going to fall apart. I can handle this.” It’s not like I have a choice, anyway. This isn’t going away if I bury my head in the sand. It’s ironic. I left Dallas to get away from the craziness of city life, not to be thrust right back into the middle of it.

“I think you should stay with Razor for a while,” Sheriff Armstrong suggests, the same thing he was telling Razor when I exited the bedroom. “You’ll be safer here than you will be at home. It’ll give us time to try to track him down.”

“All of my stuff is at home,” I protest. “I have classes.”

“You’re in school, pretty baby?” Razor asks.

I bob my head in a nod. “I take classes online during the day. I’m trying to finish my graduate degree.”

His expression softens. “We’ll go by your apartment and get everything you need. He won’t interrupt your life any more than necessary or for a moment longer than necessary.”

I chew on my bottom lip, hesitating. If I stay here, there will be no staying out of Razor’s bed for me. I’ll fall into it willingly, eagerly. Already, he’s slipping beneath my defenses and working his way into my heart. I could fall for him so easily.

“I need to know you’re safe, Adalynn,” he murmurs. “I won’t fucking sleep unless I know you’re safe.”

My resolve wavers, collapsing in on itself.

“Okay,” I agree. “But only until we catch him.”

“Right,” Razor says.

I don’t think he means it. Neither does Bender, judging by the smile on his face.

“Well, that’s settled then,” Sheriff Armstrong mutters, shaking his head. “I’ll get everything dusted for fingerprints to see if we can’t come up with something.” His eyes drift to me. “In the meantime, if you think of anyone that could be behind this, I want you to give me a call.”

“I barely know anyone here,” I mutter. “I just moved here two months ago. I work at the bar. I explore around town. That’s it.”

“Check out her boss,” Razor growls.

I blink wide eyes at him, a laugh burbling from my lips. “Roger? Roger hates me. He isn’t trying to date me.”

Sheriff Armstrong’s brows pull down. “What do you mean he hates you?”

“Maybe that’s the wrong word. I just mean I’m not his favorite person,” I mutter, my cheeks heating. “Um, he prefers his bartenders to look a certain way, and I don’t fit the bill.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Razor demands.

“It means I’m not the right size in his opinion.” I scowl at him. “But thank you for making me say that out loud.”

“What the fuck?” Razor and Bender growl at the same time.

I throw my hands up. “He thinks men drink more when the bartenders are attractive. And the more they drink, the better the bar does.” I squirm in humiliation.

“Can we please be done with this conversation now?” I’ve never been insecure about my weight, but that doesn’t mean I want to repeat Roger’s opinions about it to three men who look like they spend plenty of time in a gym, either.

My boss is an asshole, but I highly doubt he’s the one stalking me.

“Deal with him,” Razor says, turning a deadly look on Bender. “Or I will. And you’ll be bailing my ass out of jail when I do.”

“Consider him handled,” Bender says, as grim-faced and tense as Razor.

“If either of you ends up in jail, I’m leaving you there,” Sheriff Armstrong mutters without heat. I think he agrees with them about Roger, though. He doesn’t look very thrilled with my boss either.

Razor grunts in response before turning those blue eyes back on me. “Your boss is a fucking idiot,” he growls. “Every goddamn man in that bar couldn’t keep their eyes off of you last night, Adalynn. You’re not just beautiful. You’re the kind of perfect that men kill to keep.”

I… Oh, my.

The sincerity in his voice sears me. The same is stamped across his face. He means every word he said.

“Thank you,” I whisper, staring up at him as my heart flutters.

I’m in serious, serious trouble with this one.

My sisters are going to lose their minds.