Run Wild (29 page)

“Fuck me,” she demanded.

“I am, darling. And I have every intention of continuing. Now look at me.”

When she stared up at him her eyes were more golden than he’d ever seen them before. Not yellow or unrealistic, but a shade so light, so clear, he swore he saw into the depths of her soul. For a moment he saw a tender woman, struggling to hold on just as he was. A small smile played at her lips. Her mask was gone again. Natasha looked up at him with sexual desire matching his own. Her body trembled just as his did. Her pussy clamped around his dick with an urgency as hot as his. But the look in her eyes matched what he felt in his heart. Whatever this was growing between them, they were experiencing it together.

His heart exploded. His entire chest swelled but it was good pain. He had a sudden need to repair all damages that had ever been inflicted on her. Trent wanted her mask of indifference toward him to disappear. He wanted her trust, but also for her to share these growing emotions with him.

“I’m looking.” She offered an almost timid-looking smile. “Now fuck me.” She made a face at him.

As she spoke, she closed off to him again. Trent had seen what he needed to see. Not to mention what she showed him now. Natasha was breathtakingly pretty. Inside and out. Intelligent and aggressive. If he pushed her too hard to submit and open up to him, she would balk and leave him without looking back.

“Say please,” he growled, curling the corner of his mouth into a grin.

“Please,” she purred, and ran her feet up his sides. “Please make me come. Please shove that incredibly large cock of yours deep inside me. Hit that spot that needs it the most.”

It was the least he could do. “Your wish is my command.” And he made love to her.

Their eyes remained locked on each other’s. His world disappeared, and it was just the two of them, bonding, branding each other, igniting in a way neither of them would ever be able to reverse. As the pressure built and his balls tightened painfully, Trent had no doubt this was what he’d been searching for his entire life. No one would ever have made him believe that one night of lovemaking with a woman he’d met a week ago would convince him she was the one for him. But he hadn’t needed that belief before now.

As their worlds crashed together, both of them peaking and coming hard, filling and soaking each other with physical release, Trent accepted that belief as fact. Two people didn’t have sex as they had just now and walk away unscathed. He’d found his woman.

Natasha was his for life.

Chapter Thirteen

Natasha stretched and opened her eyes. She squinted against sunlight as she rolled to her side and stared at her surroundings. Her clothes were on the corner of the coffee table. There was a quilt over her and she was snuggled underneath it, naked, sated, and incredibly comfortable.

She’d slept amazingly well. Could it be because she’d had the best sex in her life last night?

Smiling at the memory, she brought her arms out from under the heavy blanket and stretched again, fisting her hands over her head. Then sitting up, she began combing out numerous tangles in her hair with her fingers.

Crap. She probably looked like hell. Her purse was on the floor at the end of the coffee table, and her luggage was next to it. Had Trent gone through her purse for her keys to bring her suitcase inside for her?

She wasn’t sure what to think of that, since the obvious answer to her question was “yes.” She hadn’t brought it inside. Natasha pulled the quilt up with her, wrapping it around her under her arms, then traipsed across the cold floor and peeked into the kitchen. There was no sign of Trent, but there was over half a pot of coffee in the coffeemaker.

Helping herself to a cup, she then turned, taking in the fairly large kitchen and all its contents. It was a used kitchen. And by that she meant a kitchen where someone actually prepared food and didn’t just pop leftovers from a carryout box or frozen food from the freezer section at the store into the microwave. Trent cooked.

She confirmed this by looking in his refrigerator, which she felt she had a right to do since he’d made her come at least a couple times last night. Hell, who was she fooling? He’d rocked her world and probably damn well knew it. Natasha took in the Tupperware containers of leftovers and spotted several packages of wrapped meat in his freezer. He had an ample supply of spices in a cabinet next to his sink. There was a lot of canned goods and cereal. She also found flour, sugar, and brown sugar. Did he also bake?

It would be awkward seeing him today and knowing he knew how well he’d fucked her. Damn, even there she was avoiding the truth. What they’d done the night before surpassed fucking. She’d drowned in his eyes and witnessed firsthand the levels of passion he had to offer. It should scare the crap out of her how happy she was with that knowledge. Worse yet, how much she wanted to experience it again. No, they hadn’t just fucked last night. They had made incredibly, mad passionate love to each other. And yes, Trent would gloat. There would be comments dropped here and there about how well she’d surrendered to him.

He’d done some surrendering of his own, too.

Natasha decided she might like taking him on as she took her hot coffee and went to get dressed. She didn’t hear Trent in the house and would guess he wasn’t one to sleep in. Interesting that he hadn’t hauled her to his bed last night. She respected that about him. In spite of her not remembering when she’d fallen asleep, obviously it had been on the couch and he’d covered her up and let her stay where she was. She appreciated him not assuming incredible sex meant they could now sleep together. Natasha had never stayed all night with a man in his bed. It was a nonverbal contract to do so and one she’d never ventured close to.

Natasha took her time in a hot shower, discovering some kinks and sore muscles she let work themselves out with the powerful spray. Trent’s bathroom smelled of him. The slightly damp towel she’d found when she first went in there told her he’d already showered, and recently. She’d found his linen closet, made herself at home, and enjoyed not running out of hot water as she soaked and scrubbed every inch of her body.

Her hair was still wrapped in a towel after she’d slid into new jeans and a sweater she’d picked up when she’d gone shopping for warmer clothes. Natasha applied just enough makeup to look sharp. There wasn’t any reason to grab Trent’s attention if she went overboard. Not to mention, something told her he’d be the kind of man who wouldn’t care for a painted face, as he’d probably call it.

She smiled at herself in the mirror when she realized where her line of thinking was going. All she’d thought about since waking up was Trent. Something other than sex had happened between them last night. Whatever it was, it had a strong hold on her this morning. She hadn’t thought about her father once yet today. Worse yet, the more she ordered herself to quit dwelling on Trent, the more she thought about him.

Maybe if she found him and they started bickering, it would be enough to slap her out of this cloud of sexual after-glow this morning. No man was that good.

Her hair was still damp when she decided to check outside for Trent. His Suburban was parked next to her truck, but she’d searched the house, even walked around his bedroom for a few, and he wasn’t inside. Natasha stepped out his back door and shivered.

“Damn,” she complained, immediately turning around, finding her coat and scarf, then refilled her coffee.

Her second jaunt outside wasn’t much better, but there was a fresh set of footprints in snow, and patches of muddy grass leading from the back door, across his yard to a barn not too far away. She followed them, stepping in them where she could. Trent had a competent, almost cocky walk to him, but he also had long legs. She couldn’t reach every footprint.

There wasn’t anyone in the barn, at least no people. Natasha jumped after entering through the partially opened large doors and hearing a horse whinny at her. She stared at the magnificent creature standing in his stall.

“Hi there,” she whispered, moving closer to the horse, who watched her with a mixture of wariness and indifference as she approached. “I don’t suppose you could tell me where Trent is.”

The horse raised his head, whinnied again, and stomped his hooves on the ground.

“Okay,” she responded. “I don’t know where he is, either.”

She could see her breath as she spoke and wondered how anyone could endure winters in this part of the world, especially if it got colder than it did now. Which she knew it did. This part of the state would get quite a bit of snow before the year was even out.

The sound of a gate closing grabbed her attention, and she walked across the barn to the other end, where it opened up into a fenced-in area outside. She saw an indented path around the edge of the fence where she guessed Trent rode his horses on a regular basis or possibly they simply ran of their own accord.

It was a good-sized area. At the other end of the fence, Trent closed the gate. He mounted his horse and headed away from her. She opened her mouth to yell to him but was distracted by man and creature appearing almost as one as they broke into a run.

“Huh,” she grunted, turning and staring at the barn.

What Trent might not have realized was that she had a fair bit of riding experience. When she and her cousins had been teenagers, Aunt Haley had taken her to one of her clubs, where they’d had lessons. Natasha enjoyed horseback riding, feeling the power underneath her and knowing she only had partial control. Horses were incredibly intelligent creatures.

By the time she’d convinced the horse she’d first seen when she’d entered the barn that they should be friends, found another saddle, and got it on the horse, she was sure Trent would be back any moment. She fought the urge to hurry, knowing she and her new friend weren’t best buds yet.

“Don’t get skittish on me,” she warned, but kept her tone friendly.

If it weren’t for how cold it was, Natasha would have sworn she was in heaven when she took the horse out, walked with him around the yard a few times, and let the two of them became friends before she went in search of Trent. Her face was soon frozen and her fingers numb. But she was invigorated.

“Time to go find your master,” she instructed, leaning forward and patting the horse on the side of his neck.

He snorted in response and she laughed. “I agree. And we won’t ever call him that where he can hear us. His ego is bad enough as it is.”

She could only imagine Trent’s response, but Natasha had no problem grabbing her cell phone and using her navigating application to make sure she didn’t get lost. While sitting on the horse just outside the gate, she tapped her screen with her numb fingers until she pulled up the application. Natasha watched as it loaded and smiled when it fixed in on her location.

“Good enough. Now, let’s go find ourselves a sheriff.” She nudged the horse with her boots and slid her phone inside her coat pocket. Something dark passed over her as the horse broke into a steady trot. Maybe she should have brought her gun along, too. After all, there was a murderer somewhere in the area.

She wasn’t sure how she knew, but something told her whoever killed Carl Williams hadn’t left Weaverville or, if so, was hiding out nearby. His murder was so brutal, done with unadulterated, raw rage. That person would hang around to ensure their reasons for killing him were fulfilled.

Natasha glanced around at the rugged countryside, moving easily with the powerful horse underneath her. How many old, abandoned cabins were forgotten in these mountains? They would probably make awesome hiding places.

*   *   *

As the sun rose higher into the sky, Natasha anxiously awaited its warmth. Dark, heavy clouds began closing in, threatening to take what little sunlight she finally felt. Her horse slowed of his own accord when they came into sight of the Trinity Alps across a large, rugged meadow. She pulled out her phone and was surprised they’d been riding over an hour. Although her cheeks were burning, her surroundings were so incredibly breathtaking she didn’t mind the cold any longer, at least not as much. She inhaled fresh air and took in the view. Natasha smiled at the smell of pine mixed with the pungent smell of her horse and spiked with a lingering perfume aroma. There were wildflowers still in bloom at this time of year.

Wouldn’t her cousins bust a gut to see her now, horseback riding in the mountains, grinning from ear to ear? Amazing how an hour-long horseback ride cleared her head and gave her ammunition to sort her thoughts and analyze all the clues she knew about so far.

Since leaving Trent’s, she’d mulled over what would make a person kill another person the way someone had Carl Williams. She accepted it took rage. He’d been stretched out, his body taking the shape of an X, decapitated, and hung in the front of the Burrows home. From what she understood out of the police report, not only had his head been impaled on a post by the entrance to the ranch, but his body was tied to posts in view of the highway also. So their murderer not only had a flare for dramatics but also wanted to make sure his dead body was seen by as many people as possible.

Was it to humiliate the Burrowses? Just Mr. Burrows or Mrs. Burrows? Or had the killer other thoughts on their mind with their choice of locations?

Natasha wasn’t an expert at analyzing a criminal’s mind, but neither were her uncle and cousins and she’d sat with them many times as they brainstormed the nature of the beast they were tracking. What sucked was she didn’t have any solid proof pointing to anyone having committed the crime. But there was motive.