Never Let You Down: The Connaghers, Book 4 Read online

  She twisted around and propped her cast on his chest. “Oh, Jeb, that’s wonderful!”

  The smile on her face tore the ground out from beneath his feet and slung him out into the middle of the ocean. She’s actually proud. Of me.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “It’s kind of a Western steampunk romp. Lots of crazy fun with big guns, Wild West drama and, at the end, huge robot dinosaurs. I just went crazy with the worldbuilding.”

  But that wasn’t why the book resonated with people. The worldbuilding had been fun, sure, but what made the book so important to him were the characters. He tried to think of how he’d tell her.

  You see, I based Victorious on you, Ginny. Her sheriff is Ty and her bank robber is me. She loves them both and they love her, to the point where they’d risk anything to keep her safe, and in the end…

  They all live happily ever after. Like you and I and Ty could never do.

  “And the male character is submissive?”

  Her voice drew his gaze up to her face. She set the glass aside and settled on his lap, facing him, her fingers already unbuttoning his shirt. “Yes.”

  “So he likes his heroine to take control.”

  “Always.” Jeb dared push a little more, trying to see if he could find her sadist side. “He likes anything she likes.”

  “Bondage?”

  He shuddered, imagining being completely bound and helpless for her. “Absolutely.”

  “Lean forward.” He did so, helping her pull his shirt loose from his pants. But she didn’t just want his chest bared. She pulled the material over his head, bringing the shirt around to the front so she could bind his arms. It took a minute with her injured arm, but she managed to tangle him up pretty well, though he could free himself in a heartbeat if she started to fall. “Are you okay with this?”

  “Absolutely,” he repeated, putting all his intent and will into that word alone. Use me any way you want, Ginny. Let me take the pain so you don’t have to.

  But evidently pain wasn’t on her mind. Or it was, but she refused to show it to him.

  She’d been wearing skirts each night she stayed with him. Miss Belle might have been tickled pink to finally see her daughter wearing girlie clothes, but Jeb knew she was only wearing things with easy access. Jeans would have been too hard for her to get off with only one arm, and she’d never liked asking for help. It’d be more likely to snow a foot every day in Dallas for a month than for Virginia to ask for assistance with something as mundane as pulling her jeans down. Even though he’d like nothing better than to go to his knees and help her slide the denim down with nothing but his teeth. She stood up just long enough to reach up under her skirts and yank her underwear down. Then she climbed back onto his lap and ground against his erection still trapped in his jeans.

  The denim had to be rough on her tender skin. It made him quiver with frustration, desperately yearning to satisfy her every want and need. He didn’t want her hurting herself. He wanted to bear that pain for her. Gladly.

  He tried another tactic, lifting his arms back over his head to make his body as open and available as possible. Being a submissive had its advantages, because he sure didn’t mind begging. “Please, Ginny.”

  She rose up on her knees and nibbled on his lips. “What do you need?”

  “Hurt me.”

  Her eyes were heavy and dark, her need rising like a hidden demon she refused to show for fear it’d escape. She reached down and worked his jeans free with her good hand, a slow, lazy fumbling that had him panting and sweating before his dick finally sprang free. “Why should I hurt you?”

  “I need it,” he gasped, arching his chest forward, trying to touch her without dropping his arms into the way. “I need you.”

  She rubbed her open mouth against his, using her words as a caress. “You don’t need that, trust me. You don’t want to stir that beast up.”

  “I do. No matter what it is.”

  She laughed but it was a hard, self-deprecating sound that made him wince, even though she rose up and began taking him into her body. “Let me keep you safe from that as long as possible.”

  He wanted to tell her he already saw it. He already loved that beast she was so afraid of. That he’d been dying to embrace her—and all her darkness—for years. Ever since that night Tyrell Connagher had come to his door, showed him the marks on his back, and then beaten the crap out of him for the right to keep all her furious pain to himself. But his brain couldn’t make his mouth respond, not when her tongue was in his mouth and her body engulfed him hungrily.

  Fully seated against him, she pulled back enough to see his eyes. “Look at me.”

  He forced his eyes open and put all his emotion into the look he gave her. Joy, that he’d finally found her. Need, crushing and overwhelming. And yes, desperation, fear, the agonizing worry that he wasn’t enough for her. That she’d never let him in fully.

  “Your eyes, Jeb. God, it’s like looking into the midnight sky out in the middle of nowhere, night as bright as day because there are so many stars burning in the sky. Don’t ask me to hurt you again.”

  She couldn’t bear the light shining in his eyes. So open, vulnerable, good and sweet and gentle. How could she risk hurting him and making that light die? If he ever looked at her with fear…

  I should have buried that fucking crop with Ty so I wouldn’t have to bear the temptation.

  It wouldn’t have done any good though. Rocking against him, she had to fight herself not to suck his bottom lip into her mouth and dig her teeth in that tender flesh until he whimpered. The Scotch had taken the edge off her violence, but the beast still rumbled a dull roar inside her. Her good hand gripped his shoulder, her nails pressing into his skin, but that was better than fisting in his hair and jerking his head back flat against the couch. God help him when she had both hands back to full use.

  She ground herself against him, forcing the head of his cock up against her cervix as hard as she could. Most women couldn’t stand such pain, and yeah, it hurt. It hurt like a bitch. Exactly what she needed the most.

  He was too big and thick for her to last long under that kind of delicious torment.

  “Don’t hold back,” she panted against his lips. “I want you to come with me.”

  She made sure to always tell him, because he had the disturbing habit of trying to hold back as long as possible, still not quite trusting in his older body’s ability to keep her sated. She gritted her teeth, fighting to remain in control. No flailing. No maiming. No biting, hitting, squeezing, tearing… She collapsed against his chest, relieved to feel him jerking inside her. Though that tearing sound had been his shirt, because his big palms cupped her buttocks, lifting her up as if he was afraid he was going to damage something inside her.

  “Doesn’t it hurt when you take me that deep?”

  “That’s the point.” She pressed her face up into his neck, breathing in his scent. Smoky woods and oranges, yes, but underneath a sweetness that made her stomach twist with yearning. It was almost like picking up a baby blanket and smelling its sweet soap and lotion, only there wasn’t anything baby-like with Jeb. It was just her urge to protect and hold him, to return some of his care after all the many times he’d raced to her aid or put up with her stupid antics, or worse, suffered because of her selfish choices. “You feel damned good, Jebadiah Garrett.”

  “Not that I’m complaining…” She pulled back and quirked a brow at him. He flushed but continued. “But I am good for more than sex, you know, even fantastic sex.”

  “Are my ears lying, or do I hear a man complaining that he’s being used too much for sex?”

  He flushed darker, his hands gripping her harder, like he was afraid she might decide to leave before he was done. “I said I wasn’t complaining. I never knew it could be so good, or that I’d still be able to do even half the things you’re coa
xing out of me.”

  “But…?”

  “I love you, Ginny.”

  Killer shot straight to the heart. In fact, her heart stuttered a moment, as if it’d forgotten how to beat.

  “I want to be a part of your life. Not someone you occasionally spend the night with.”

  “I know,” she whispered, clearing her throat so she didn’t sound so wounded. “That’s what you think? That I don’t care about you at all except for what you’ve got in your pants?”

  He slid his arms up her back, gathering her close, gently, as if she were made of fine china that might explode if he touched her too hard. “Not at all. I just want to be sure we’re clear how much you mean to me. I’m yours, as long as you’ll have me.”

  “I don’t want you to go anywhere.” In fact, she was almost done clearing out her house of all of Ty’s old things. The Salvation Army was coming by this weekend to haul off the last of the donation items. In many ways, her accident had been a blessing in disguise. Since all the kids were in town, it was the perfect opportunity for them to all go through their daddy’s things and pick out the special items they wanted to keep. All she kept was his hat with that precious hand-rolled cigarette and his favorite roping saddle. He’d once joked that he was at home in that saddle more than any place on earth. Until they’d settled on their ranch together.

  Her heart suddenly dropped like a stone into a bottomless pit. Was Jeb homesick for California? Maybe he was thinking about going back for good. He’d never been back to Texas except for Ty’s funeral. “You’re not thinking about moving back to California, are you?”

  “My home’s where you are, as long as you’ll have me. But I do need to go back to L.A. for a few days.”

  Well, that was certainly a relief, though she’d give California a try if that’s what he really wanted. She’d spent a few summers in Ireland with Miss Belle’s family and traveled with her all over the world for various movies, but she’d never lived anywhere but Texas. “When?”

  He made sure her sling was secure, keeping her injured arm against her body, and then he surged up, giving her a little jolt as he shifted her in his grasp. “Tomorrow. I know it’s late notice, but you’re welcome to go with me. I didn’t want to presume too much and ask you to go away with me so soon. Especially with your family in town.”

  Honestly, for such a grown man, he could be incredibly silly. “I’m presuming you pretty openly as far as my family’s concerned. When will you get back?”

  “I’ll fly back in on Sunday.”

  That’d give her through the weekend to have everything ready, the house spruced and cleaned, and hopefully Miss Belle gone back to Missouri. “Maybe next time. Conn’ll be taking Miss Belle home in a day or two and I think a few days of peace and quiet after all the excitement is in order.”

  Without a word of protest or disappointment, Jeb set her on the edge of his bed for what had become a nightly ritual, slowly undressing her with a kiss on every inch of skin he revealed. Burying her fingers in his hair, she smiled.

  It’ll be the perfect time to ask him to move in with me.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Lady Always Gets Her Man by Chris Waters

  In a cold camp just thirty minutes’ fast trot out of Halltown, Ransom pulled a blanket tighter around his shoulders, but he didn’t lie down. He wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not until he knew if she’d come or not.

  If a man of questionable character said he was going north, most self-respecting lawmen would assume the outlaw was headed south instead, especially given the close proximity of Mexico. The system he and Victorious had set up long ago was much more complicated. He’d deliberately named two locations. San Antonio was due south. On the clock, that was thirty minutes. New Orleans was just to complicate matters, possibly throw off the sheriff if he tried to over think things. Jambalaya, though, was the most crucial keyword. Food, any food, meant north. Any drink meant south. Clothes meant head east. Anything metal, go west.

  As hour after hour rolled by and no one came, his heart started to go as cold as the stony ground on which he sat.

  I’ve lost her for good.

  After not being able to track her down for so long, he’d already figured she was long gone. Cruel fate had decided to taunt him one last time with the one thing he could never have by letting him see her again.

  She’d looked good. She was clean, fed, warm and relatively well off. She had a respected lawman to protect her. Hopefully he loved her. Really loved her. Even if someone started asking if Miss Victorious Raynes might have ever played the role of Mistress in a flophouse in Omaha. As far as they both knew, there were still warrants out for their arrest in Missouri. Not to mention the bank heist in Denver for which they were both wanted for questioning. She’d been innocent of that one, though her sweet little general store had reaped that crime’s benefits.

  The sun was just threatening to break free and start its climb into the sky when he finally heard a horse carefully picking its way down the trail. He’d deliberately picked a hidden niche off the main road, preferring to be out of sight rather than up high at a vantage point. He could hear most anything coming down either side of the trail, even four-legged critters looking for a meal. The loose stone would betray the most surefooted coyote. Let alone a horse and rider.

  Still, he waited, letting the cottonwoods hide both him and his horse. The signal. Only if the signal…

  Finally he heard the low, husky vibrato of her voice singing “Amazing Grace”. The song her mama had taught her to sing anytime her drunk father staggered through the door. Not that it had ever helped protect her.

  He stood up slowly, making sure his legs would hold him after sitting so long. That trembling had nothing to do with sheer relief. “Here.”

  The hoof beats drew nearer, quickening to a trot, a canter, and then the horse broke through the trees and Victorious threw herself off her mare directly into his arms.

  “Ranse.” She kissed him hard and frantic, her hands fisted in the long fall of his hair.

  “You’re late.” He carried her to the warm nest of blankets and sat down with her on his lap facing him. “I nearly gave up hope.”

  “I couldn’t get away.” She kissed him again, cupping her palms around each side of his face. “I missed you.”

  “Did you? Seems like you’ve got a pretty good setup, now.”

  Her face fell, her glorious eyes clouding with doubt and worry. “Yeah.”

  “You’re not coming with me.”

  He didn’t mean it as a question, but she shook her head anyway as she slid down and tucked her head up beneath his chin. He just held her, waiting for her to find the words in her own time.

  “I came to Halltown for the same reason you did,” she finally said.

  “Follow the gold,” he whispered against her hair. She smelled like fresh strawberries. He could remember so many times when he’d held her like this, shivering through the rain, the snow, hungry, tired, bloody and on the run. At least she was safe this time.

  She nodded. “There’s only one way a town without its own mine and no industry to speak of could have so much gold flowing through it.”

  “So you’re after the Specter too?”

  Nobody knew exactly who was running drugs, guns and worse out of Mexico. New illegal technology kept pouring across the border. Like that blaster that had struck Ransom. Only the Federal Marshals were issued that kind of gun and it sure wasn’t a Marshal that had chased him out of the mayor’s mansion that night. The smaller towns down south even whispered of massive mechanical monsters rumbling across the border in the middle of the night. Where those machines were headed, no one seemed to know, but it couldn’t be good if someone was amassing some kind of man-made army.

  Every time the Marshals or Rangers got close, the kingpin just vanished, easily moving to a new secure location as if he knew
the law was coming before they did. Hence the name Specter. Texas, Arizona, New Mexico, it didn’t matter, the Specter controlled the flow back and forth across the border and there was gold aplenty. It was bad enough that the Marshals had even recruited the more nefarious sources to help them track down the ghostly criminal.

  Hence Ransom Savage’s involvement. The Federal Marshals had promised he’d keep whatever spoils he managed to acquire as compensation for his assistance in bringing down the Specter and his record would be completely cleared. Evidently someone had promised the same to her.

  “Yeah. I was. But things changed.”

  “The sheriff.”

  She nodded, even though she buried deeper into Ransom’s embrace. “I like it here. I mean, I really like it. I’ve built a good life. It was all supposed to be just a cover until I could figure out who was dealing with the Specter and follow the trail, but one thing led to another and here I am.” She swallowed hard, her hands clutching him closer. “Sheriff Brazen asked me to marry him a few weeks ago.”

  His heart weighed like a ton of gold, but he tried to keep his voice even. “And you agreed.”

  She jerked away from him, practically throwing herself up to her feet so she could pace in the small clearing among the trees. “Yes, I did. I like him too. He’s a good man.”

  There was something in her voice that made his ears perk up. A tiny hint of doubt, the barest kernel of hope he wasn’t too late after all. “Is he?”

  She didn’t answer but merely paced harder.

  He wanted to ask if the sheriff minded the more dominant side of her disposition. She might be able to keep her darker needs hidden for a while, but after what they’d shared in Denver, he couldn’t imagine her settling down with a man for the rest of her life if he didn’t like to be tied up and abused any damn way the lady cared to hurt him.

  “You took the gold out of the mayor’s safe, right?”

  “Yeah. Cleared it out completely, every document and scrap I could find, just in case there were any clues. I haven’t found anything yet.” He narrowed his eyes, searching her face, but in the darkness, she kept her secrets. “Why’d you wait so long? Why didn’t you hit the safe first if you knew it was there?”