I Knew You Were Trouble: A Texas Kings Novel (14 page)

“You’re naughty,” he muttered in her ear. “So, so naughty.”

“You’re the one”—she let out a sharp breath, a hiss of air, as his thrusts became harder, all gentleness long gone—“doing bad things to me.”

He paused, his body still, muscles slick with sweat. “Want me to stop?”

She gripped him tighter, dug her fingernails into his shoulders, and forced him down closer, their bodies pressed tight.
“Never.”

Nate knew how much she wanted him; it would be impossible for him not to given how tight she was holding on to him, matching his every movement. But what was turning her on the most was how obviously he wanted her, how much he was enjoying it, too.

Just as she started to feel like her body was getting closer to the edge, just as she thought that she could hardly bear the intense pleasure inside of her any longer, Nate pulled out, kissing her mouth, eyes open as he looked down at her.

“Don’t stop,” she begged.
“Don’t
.
Stop
.”

He laughed. “Not stopping. Just trying to figure out how to make this even better for you.”

Her mouth was dry, her eyes roving over every inch of him. He was built like a gladiator, his body a well-honed machine, every part of him muscled and exquisite. His skin was golden, the only smattering of hair an arrow that extended from his belly button to his … She looked up, caught his naughty smile.

“How do you like it?” he asked.

She didn’t even know what to say, wasn’t used to a lover being so direct about her needs or body parts. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do,” he insisted, bending to kiss her, to tease her lips, his erection hard against her belly. “Just tell me.” His words were husky, low. “Whisper in my ear.”

“I want…,” she started, clearing her throat, annoyed with herself that he’d had to push her just to say how she wanted him, what her fantasies were. “I want you to hold me up. I want my legs around your waist and my back to the wall.”

He arched an eyebrow. “You want me standing and you up in the air, in my arms?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

He was on his feet in moments, scooping her up like she was weightless. Which she wasn’t. He was just damn strong.

Nate kept her in his arms, positioned her so she was facing him, her legs around his torso, as he backed her against the wall. Her back hit the cool wallpaper and he pushed her higher, angling her so he could fit inside her. He thrust hard, up, her arms looped around his neck.

“Like this?” he asked, his mouth to her neck.

She moved so he was kissing her lips instead, wanting to taste him, to kiss him, while he fucked her. “Yes,” she exhaled the word.
“Yes.”

Nate was relentless, didn’t stop or slow down until she started moaning his name, until he knew she was close. She’d never had a lover like him, and it had been worth the wait. Nate fricking King was worthy of his reputation and then some.

His lips were hot, wet; his body was slick with sweat; and the feel of him inside of her was exactly how she’d imagined it would be. She could let him pleasure her all night … and then again, and again. Sex had never felt this good, not in her lifetime, anyway.

Chapter 9

NATE stretched out, smiling when he realized he wasn’t alone in bed. The night before came flooding back, the memories almost as good as the real thing. He rolled a little so he was facing Faith, her long dark hair splayed out on the pillow, lips full and slightly parted. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, wanting to wake her, desperate for her to stir so he could rouse her from sleep and make her beautiful body hum again, but he didn’t. She was living with him for Christ’s sake, which meant unless she changed her mind about what she wanted, she’d be in his bed again before long.

He stroked a strand of her hair, a mental picture of her sitting astride him while he fisted handfuls of inky black silk around his wrists flashing through his mind. After years of imagining what it would be like to have Faith between the sheets, his curiosity had only just been piqued.

Nate rose, glancing back at Faith and wishing he could just crawl back under the covers and spend the entire day in bed with her. But he couldn’t. There was something he should have done the day after she arrived and he still hadn’t. He quietly opened his closet, retrieved a clean pair of jeans and a shirt, and headed for the bathroom with them. He showered quickly, pulled on his clothes, and grabbed an apple as he passed through the kitchen, his stomach growling in response. He collected his keys and headed straight out the door. Food could come later.

He pulled out of the garage slowly, checking his reversing camera the entire time, paranoid that a dog or his little niece might surprise him, then turned and drove down their long, seemingly endless driveway. Nate passed Chase as he was coming out of his house, coffee in hand still, work boots on.

“You’re heading out early!” Chase called out.

“Got a job to do,” Nate replied, window down and his hand hanging out the side as he smiled to his brother.

“Ranching never stops,” Chase said with a laugh, winking as he walked off. “I’ll see you around later on. If that little niece of ours doesn’t have me tied up attending a tea party or something in between Harrison tying me to a tree playing cowboy. For some reason I’m always the bad guy in that game.”

Nate drove off, chuckling at his brother as he glanced in the rearview mirror. Who would have thought that big, bad Chase would be shacked up and playing the role of doting father
and
uncle. He grinned again.
He
was just as doting, so he shouldn’t be laughing—the little girl had them all wrapped around her little finger. The only difference was that he was still a bachelor and he had no intentions of settling down. Ryder and Chase could produce plenty of kids between them for the ranch and business to be passed down to; his role was to make sure there was one hell of an empire to leave them as a legacy. Nate stopped a few yards down the road, got out, and surveyed the land to his left. It wouldn’t be long before the trucks and specialists would be rolling in, accessing part of the ranch from this exact part of road. He couldn’t wait for the moment they found oil there, knew in his bones it was going to be incredible. He just hoped his granddad was around to see it.

He got back in the car and settled in for the drive, glancing at his phone to make sure he had the address right. His memory rarely let him down, but he still wanted to double-check what the investigator had given him. What he was about to do now wasn’t something he wanted to do to the wrong person.

Nate slowed as he approached the street, making the turn, then scanning the numbers. Once he was close he dialed Sam through his voice command, listening to it ring, wishing his friend would just answer the damn phone. He ended up getting his voice mail.

“Sam, it’s me. I know you’re pissed with me right now, and I get it. I shouldn’t have let her…” Nate sighed, deciding that telling Sam that his sister had been the one to kiss him probably wasn’t such a great idea. “Look, I just want you to know that I deserved the black eye. For the record, it’s a goddamn shiner. Anyway, I’m dealing with that other business now. By the time I’m finished with her asshole ex he’ll never even think about laying his hand on another woman again.”

He hung up and parked the car, jumping out and rolling up his shirtsleeves to his elbows, folding the fabric first so they were the same length and wouldn’t fall down. He debated grabbing the baseball bat out of the back but decided against it. He didn’t need a weapon—his grandfather had taught them all that. Weapons like guns were for cowards and criminals. A man could settle his issues with words and his fists, and Nate had chosen the latter. His granddad hadn’t been opposed to violence, just the kind that didn’t involve a man having to roll his sleeves up first.

He locked the truck, shoved his keys in his back pocket, and crossed the road. The houses were okay, fairly modest but tidy, and he didn’t want to cause a disturbance to anyone enjoying a lazy Saturday morning. In fact, he wished he wasn’t doing this at all, but then again there would be an element of satisfaction in beating the shit out of the guy who’d hurt Faith.

Nate knocked on the door, being careful not to pound too hard. He stood back, arms at his sides, not wanting to alert the guy to anything and stop him from answering the door. Nate knocked again, a little louder this time.

“Who is it?” a male voice sounded out.

“Nate King!” he called back.

The door opened a crack. “What the fuck do you want?”

Nate smiled, shoving his boot in the opening before it could be slammed on him. “You know a young woman named Faith Mendes?”

The guy’s eyes widened, recognition dawning.

“And I take it you’re Cooper,” Nate said, forcing the door open.

“Get the fuck out of here; this is my house and you can’t just—”

“What?” Nate asked, storming inside and slamming the door shut behind him, forcing Cooper to stagger backward. “You gonna say I just can’t come in here uninvited?” He laughed, his fist flying as grinned, slamming it into the side of the guy’s face. “That was for touching Faith,” Nate muttered, “and for being an asshole.”

Cooper fell back against the wall opposite them when Nate punched him a second time.

“You’re insane!” Cooper yelled. “What the fuck are you on about?”

Nate wasn’t even breathing heavy yet, adrenaline surging through every vein in his body, but he kept himself in check, wouldn’t let himself lose even a shred of self-control. “You have anyone here? A woman?”

The change in Cooper’s face told him the answer.

“Get dressed and get out of here!” Nate yelled out. “This is between me and this douche bag, and if you saw the bruises he left on his last girlfriend, you’d be running.”

Nate waited, eyes never leaving Cooper. He folded his arms across his chest, listening to footsteps, then stepping back as a woman wearing not a lot rushed straight past them and out the front door. He waited until the door shut, then smiled again at Cooper.

“There’s two things I’m here for today,” he said.

Cooper wasn’t moving, had stayed still slumped against the wall, but he was starting to move now, looked like he was about to swing a punch or something.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Nate said.

Cooper jumped up and charged, but Nate was ready. He was doing this for Faith, could still perfectly recall the silky feel of her otherwise blemish-free skin, which meant he could still remember the ugly purple bruise across her belly.

Nate dodged the punch coming his way, grabbing Cooper and throwing him back, slamming his fist into Cooper’s face.

“You bastard!” Cooper swore, cradling his face. “You broke my fucking nose.”

Nate ignored him. He wasn’t sadistic, didn’t take pleasure from causing other beings pain, but he did believe in an eye for an eye or, in this case, ten punches for one. Man against woman wasn’t a fair fight, which meant he had some catching up to do on Faith’s behalf.

“I’ll break every bone in your body if you ever come near Faith again,” he told Cooper, staying calm, breathing heavier than usual as he fought to keep his head. “And if I ever hear you’ve ever touched any woman, ever again, with your fists?” Nate shook his head, lips curling up into what he was certain was an evil smile. “I’ll hurt you so bad you’ll end up ten feet under.”

Cooper’s nose was bleeding, the blood dripping down his face and onto his T-shirt as he looked at Nate.

“She fucking deserved it.”

Nate stopped dead, his pulse racing.
“What did you say?”

“You heard me,” he said, spitting blood at Nate. “The bitch deserved it.”

Nate made a noise that sounded more animal like than human, only just keeping a lid on his rage. He launched at Cooper and pummeled him, punching his face, kicking him, unleashing hell on the asshole. Nate was careful not to go too far, didn’t want to kill the guy, and when he was done he walked away, changing his mind about getting any of Faith’s things together. Whatever she needed he could buy her new.

Nate checked Cooper was still breathing, propped him up, and headed back to his vehicle. The deed was done. He left his sleeves rolled up, cursed when he noticed he had a smear of blood on his shirt, and drove the hell out of Dodge.

No one touched Faith and got away with it.
No one.

*   *   *

When Nate arrived home, the house was silent. He dropped his keys and the brown paper bags he was carrying on the hallstand and kicked off his boots, calling out and receiving no response.
Damn it,
he should have left a note. She probably woke up to him gone and thought he’d just left. He wasn’t used to having to think things like that through, because he never usually hung around. Or came back.

“Faith?” he called again, running up the stairs two at a time and stopping in the open doorway to his room. The sheets were rumpled, the covers discarded at the end of the bed, but she wasn’t there, and he could see she wasn’t in the bathroom, either.

He glanced at himself in the mirror and grimaced at the blood on his shirt, stripping it off and throwing it in the laundry basket. He got a T-shirt instead and pulled it on, then headed back down, collecting the bags again.

“Faith!” he called, louder this time, her name dying on his lips as he spotted her sitting outside. Her dark hair was pulled back up into a ponytail, straight almost-black silk hanging from high on her head, and as he got closer he could see that her legs were tucked up beneath her and she was nursing a cup of coffee as she stared out into the distance. He glanced out himself, never tired of looking at the land he’d grown up on.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked.

She glanced up, her eyes taking a moment to focus like she’d been a million miles away.

“No,” she said simply.

Nate moved closer and dropped to the sofa beside her. He smiled as she looked at him, holding up the bags. “I dropped into that French bakery, the new one that’s just opened up. I got a whole heap of sweet pastries, something with chocolate in it.…” He raised an eyebrow and looked up, saw the frown on her face.