Run Wild (19 page)

Trent moved so fast Natasha didn’t have time to react. At least, that was what she told herself. She stared into those compelling eyes of his, wanting everything he suggested more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life. Even if it was just one night. Even if she knew in her heart and soul she’d never see him again, Natasha wanted him. She wanted his naked body pressed against hers. She wanted to feel how hard his dick could get. And God, she wanted him buried so deep inside her it hurt.

Damn him for knowing all of that. God damn him for taking away her numbness and replacing it with desire too strong to fight.

When his mouth met hers, he scorched her with a heat so volatile she no longer had room to think of what might be, or wouldn’t be. His tongue slid into her mouth, hot, needy, demanding.

Natasha didn’t remember turning in the driver’s seat. Somehow she’d moved her legs so he stood between them. And when he leaned into her she grabbed his hair, relishing its thick, soft texture as she dragged her fingers through it and held on.

He deepened the kiss, groaning into her mouth. Trent gripped both sides of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair, pinching her scalp, and heightening senses until all numbness was gone. When he tilted her head, positioning her where he wanted her, he impaled her mouth. Fireworks exploded in her brain.

Colors so warm, burgundy, maroon, deep shades of midnight blue and tranquil lavenders exploded in her brain. Each was a warm sensation, so volatile, and spiking her awareness of him. Natasha had never known a kiss so hot, so incredibly earth-shattering, and implying so many things, none of which were “good-bye.”

Would she ever see him again?

Natasha wouldn’t allow thoughts like that in her head right now. Nothing would diminish the intensity of this kiss. Her entire world was in the right now. No plans. No regrets. Just drowning in a sea of unleashed lust too powerful to restrain.

These were the emotions that had been building up since she’d first met Trent. Every desire she’d suppressed since first laying eyes on the sheriff rushed through her as her dam of resistance fell apart.

Trent had to have sensed her unraveling inside. He crushed her body against his, causing their hearts to thud against each other like rapid gunfire. She couldn’t rein any of it back in. And, damn it, she didn’t want to. Natasha wanted everything he had to offer.

Before she could question it, turn it over in her mind, and analyze it, the pressure building inside her exploded and she groaned. Pure bliss and pleasure unlike anything she’d ever experienced before shook her from head to toe. Natasha came with a vengeance, from need she’d ignored, denied being present, and until this moment had refused to believe was real.

Yet it was. She’d known Trent for four days. He’d crawled under her skin, wrapped around her soul, and claimed every inch of her body. When he ended the kiss, once again moving so his head was a mere breath away from hers, his warm hands continued holding her head.

“This isn’t good-bye,” he whispered, then backed up, stood, and closed her truck door.

*   *   *

Natasha’s eyes were no longer dry and void of tears. They welled in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. She gripped the steering wheel, white-knuckled it until the ridges in the hard plastic hurt her hands. She needed something to distract her from the thoughts plaguing her mind.

“There is no going back,” she reminded herself. “You always move forward.” Every mantra she’d ever used in life didn’t seem to be working at the moment.

Natasha glanced at the digital clock on the dash, annoyed at how slowly time was passing. If she could just get home already, resume her daily activities, put her father and all of the sordid mess in her head on some back shelf, file it as junk, anything!

“Crap,” she hissed when her phone started ringing.

She glared at her phone, which was glowing at the top of her purse in the seat next to her. If it was Trent she would send it to voice mail. No matter that her lips still felt swollen from that kiss. She could still taste him and decided she’d pull over at the next town and buy something to eat, anything to rid her of repeatedly being reminded how incredible he had tasted.

She hadn’t asked for that kiss. Trent had been selfish forcing himself on her. In spite of trying to get herself pissed at him, she knew lying to herself wouldn’t work. He hadn’t forced anything. She didn’t dare close her eyes while doing seventy-five down the highway in her uncle’s truck. But if she had, she would be back in Weaverville with Trent’s hands gripping both sides of her head.

Her phone rang a third time and she yanked it out of her purse, so she could see the screen. It was Uncle Greg.

Her heart swelled into her throat, damn near gagging her. What the hell was she supposed to tell her uncle about her father?

“Hello?” she answered, her hands damp as she reached in her purse for her Bluetooth.

“Natasha, where are you?” Her uncle’s deep baritone had always soothed her. He was a strong, never-budging wall of confidence and domination. Right now trepidation tightened in her gut, making her sick.

Natasha hadn’t been raised to submit to any man, not by her aunt Haley, who had Greg wrapped around her little finger. Nonetheless, with Natasha’s nerves as frazzled as they were, she fed off his calm manner and managed the same tone when she answered.

“Coming home?” He sounded surprised. “What about your father?” he growled.

She sensed disapproval and her stomach twisted even more. How would she tell Uncle Greg about her father, his brother, being wanted on such a horrendous murder charge? It would break him. She loved her uncle, as much as her father if not more.

When she pulled out a small black device from the bottom of her purse, and not her Bluetooth, she frowned, fingering it and glancing at it while holding the phone between her ear and shoulder and managing to keep her eyes on the road.

If she was going to give her uncle all the details, she needed time and no distractions. “Hold on, Uncle Greg. There’s a rest stop less than a quarter mile ahead.” She slowed and flipped on her turn signal. “Let me pull off so I can talk to you.”

“I haven’t heard anything about any new evidence pointing to anyone else in this murder investigation going on up that way,” Uncle Greg continued. Apparently, he was okay with talking while she took the rest stop exit, then searched for a good parking spot. “We’ve been doing our best to keep up with what’s going on up there. Sounds like that town has one hell of a sick motherfucker among them. I hope you know, Natasha, it’s not your father. Us King men have been known to have tempers, but we’re not killers. I don’t need a mound of evidence, or a jury, to tell me George didn’t commit that murder.”

Natasha’s throat swelled and she was glad she’d pulled into a stall and put the truck in park, because she was crying so hard she couldn’t see a damn thing. She knew her uncle wouldn’t know about the fingerprints on the body. That wasn’t public knowledge.

“Uncle Greg,” she started, and the words got stuck in the lump in her throat. She fisted her hand, then remembered she still had that black thing she’d pulled out of her purse. Dumping it in the ashtray, where the family kept change, she pushed the button on her phone to send it to speaker, then held her hands up against the steering wheel, staring at her phone as she tried continuing. “Everyone up there is so sure he did it.”

“They’ve got an overwhelming amount of circumstantial evidence piled up against an innocent man.” Her uncle’s voice was soothing yet firm. “George is in a world of trouble. Now I know he hasn’t always been there for you, sweetheart, but you can still be there for him.”

She nodded at the phone and swatted her eyes, sniffing and desperately trying to organize her thoughts. Apparently, she took a moment too long to say anything, because suddenly Aunt Haley’s voice came through her phone.

“Natasha, sweetheart, are you okay?”

“Lord,” she moaned, rolling her eyes and letting her phone drop to her lap, still in her hands, when she leaned her head back against the seat. “Actually, no. I’m not all right. I’m so far from alright its pathetic.”

Aunt Haley’s soft laughter had always comforted Natasha in the past. She straightened, wiped her eyes again, then glanced around for a tissue. Undoing her seat belt, she leaned over to open the glove box.

“I’ve got you on speaker, hon,” Aunt Haley was saying, her voice crackling for a moment, then coming in clearer. “It’s just me and your uncle in here. But we want to know everything that has happened to you since you went up there.”

“I’ve never hurt so much like this before,” she blurted. It wasn’t what she meant to say but the words fell out of her. “Trent is going to find and arrest Dad and I can’t be there for that.” The moment her thoughts drifted toward Trent, she fought to shove him out of the way. She needed to not mourn something that never could have happened anyway.

Her aunt’s reassuring tone was clearer this time. “You’re going to be fine, sweetheart. Your uncle and I brought you up to always take time to see the whole picture.”

Natasha stared at the roadside stop as travelers entered and left the building where bathrooms and vending machines were. The numbness she’d relished last night didn’t sit as well when it filled her this time. “What was that? Why are you so calm?”

“You’re shrewd, dear. You don’t miss a thing.”

Which meant something had happened. The fog lifted from her brain and she focused. “What happened?” she demanded to know.

“I just got off the phone with your dad,” Uncle Greg said, his voice distant but his words clear.

Natasha froze. Her hands were suddenly so damp she almost dropped the small package of tissues she’d pulled out of the glove box. Straightening slowly, she looked at her phone in her other hand, barely able to put her next question into words, possibly because so many questions bombarded her at once.

“What … what did he say?”

“That he’s innocent,” her uncle said matter-of-factly. “Not that we all didn’t know that already.”

The numbness was making her sick. She wasn’t sure what the hell was wrong with her. This was good news. The best there was. If her dad had done something wrong, he’d come clean to his brother. Uncle Greg would be the only person on the planet who could help him. Her father knew that. He had his pride, but it hadn’t ever stopped him from turning to his brother in the past. A rush of giddiness attacked her and she grinned.

“Yes, we knew that,” she said, her voice cracking and making her wince.

“Which then begs the question, why are you heading home?” This time her uncle did sound upset.

“A lot of reasons!” she suddenly snapped. The last thing she needed right now was a lecture from Uncle Greg. And it was coming. She could feel it in the air as if he were in the truck with her. Uncle Greg worked hard, always made sure he had all details in order when working a case, and expected nothing less from her and her cousins. “I’ll start at the beginning,” she suggested.

“Start at the beginning,” her aunt said at the same time.

Natasha sucked in a deep breath. “Great minds,” she murmured.

Her aunt laughed.

“Don’t leave anything out!” Natasha’s uncle barked, sounding again as if he were in the background.

Natasha pictured Aunt Haley swatting him in the gut, one of her favorite moves any time she thought he was getting too rough with Natasha, Marc, or Jake. Natasha smiled, dabbed at her eyes with her tissue, then wadded it in her hand as she stared out of the truck. There was a nicely landscaped park around her. She fished out her wallet, turned the truck off, deciding some fresh air and a cold drink would help get everything she needed to tell her aunt and uncle out easier.

“I’ve tried to call you and left messages,” Natasha began as she pushed the truck door shut, then pushed the button on her keys to lock it. Glancing down at the front tire, she knew one bit of information she might not share. Not that her uncle should be upset. She was the one out seventeen hundred dollars and he had new tires out of the deal.

“You have us now. Tell us everything,” her uncle said. He wasn’t going to let the subject sway by offering why they hadn’t returned her calls. So typical of her uncle.

“When I arrived in Weaverville four days ago, I checked into a bed-and-breakfast called Pearl’s. The entire town is like a picture postcard snapped out of somewhere in the past. Weaverville is a small town, and a lot of folks there seem to know each other.” She remembered Matilda chatting with the mailman when she first arrived. That seemed so long ago now. “They’d just had one of the most gruesome murders happen in a town where the crime rate is so low one sheriff patrols the town. Then I show up, the daughter of the man wanted for this murder.”

“Sounds like you were popular.” Aunt Haley had laughter in her voice.

Natasha smiled. “I didn’t interact with a lot of town folk. Honestly, I didn’t feel any hostility from anyone, at least not at first.” Natasha didn’t want to tell her aunt and uncle the order of events out of sequence and told them as much. She shared the conversation she’d had with the waitress her first night there. “But when I go out to do a drive-by and check out this Trinity Ranch, I damn near wipe out the truck from a big buck lying dead in the road.”

“But the truck is fine?” This time her uncle’s voice came through the phone loud and clear. And so did the following grunt when Aunt Haley probably popped him in the tummy again.