Oak, Sophie - Siren in Waiting [Texas Sirens 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (9 page)

He hadn’t tried to move out of her hold. He simply stared at her, the moonlight illuminating his gorgeous face. “No, Beth, but that’s not your problem.”

But Clarissa hadn’t been his problem. “I want to help you if I can.”

Now he did take a step back, and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t wearing a hat. His hair tumbled over his forehead. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Beth. I think I should drive you home, and then I should probably stay away from you.”

He closed the door to the truck and walked around to the driver’s side. He hopped in, but he didn’t say anything, merely turned the engine over and started out of the lot, gravel crunching beneath the tires.

He asked for directions to her house in a controlled, quiet voice, but Mouse knew that easy intimacy they had found in the parking lot was gone. He was just doing her a favor. He was cleaning up the small mess she’d made by trying to go somewhere she shouldn’t.

Mouse stared out of the window. The moon was huge and full, hanging low in the sky. She was right back where she had started. She would spend the night alone, like she spent all her nights.

But at least now she knew once and forever that Bo wasn’t going to be hers. It was long past time to let that dream go. He was a nice man who had been a good friend to her, but she couldn’t compete with the Clarissas of this world. She didn’t have a lick of experience with anything but taking care of sick people, running her boss’s errands, and accounting. She had a wonderful, sexy degree in accounting from an online college. Yep, she was going to attract a man like Bo with her innate ability to add.

The drive was over all too soon, though Mouse knew it was for the best. Trev McNamara wasn’t for her, either.

He pulled the truck to a stop.

“Isn’t this the old Bellows’s place?” He put the truck in park and killed the engine. “I heard my sister’s husband say something about you buying it.”

She undid the seat belt. Now that she was home, she just wanted to get inside. She could put the idiocy of the night behind her. Trev had already said he didn’t intend to see her again. She would just go back to her life, a little wiser than before. She would concentrate on her new house.

“I bought it in an auction.” She’d used the all of the insurance money she’d inherited and still had to take out a loan to cover the mortgage. She would be forever grateful to Bonnie, who hadn’t taken her half of the money their parents had left them. If she had, Mouse wouldn’t have been able to afford the house. Her sister had hugged her and told her she deserved the money. Even as it was, she needed another loan to make the improvements. “It was a last-minute kind of thing. I was lucky. Not a whole bunch of people showed up to the auction. I think most folks around here think this place is haunted. If Bryce had shown up, I doubt I could have afforded the place.”

She opened the passenger side door, but Trev put a hand on her arm.

“Did you leave the front door open?”

She looked out the window. He was right. Sure enough, the front door was wide open. She scrambled to get out. Her boots hit the ground, and she started to sprint toward the house. Was someone in there? Was someone stealing the antiques? She didn’t have much in the house of her own, but she’d bought the place, and it was all she had.

A big arm clotheslined her midsection. Trev caught her and tightened his hold.

“Let me go. I need to get in there,” she pleaded.

“Not happening.” Trev set her on her feet, but kept his hands on her. “I’m not about to let you go into that house. You stay here. If you hear anything funny, call 9-1-1. Do you understand me?”

Mouse nodded as he shoved his phone in her hand. He was right. If there was someone inside, exactly how did she intend to deal with them? A politely worded request for them to leave probably wouldn’t do it.

She opened her mouth to call him back, but he was already on the steps by the time she thought of it. He turned, his big body shadowed.

“And, Beth, if you come in here after me, you will not like what I do to your backside. Is that understood?”

She nodded, not trusting her voice. He turned and disappeared inside.

Had he just threatened to spank her?

The phone in her hand trilled. She looked down at it. Someone named Marty was calling. She slid her finger across the phone to answer. “Hello?”

“Thank god. I’ve been trying all week. Who is this? I need to talk to Trevor.” The man had a slick-sounding accent, like he was from back East. He spoke in the quick cadence of a man used to having his needs met.

Trevor might be fighting for his life. Mouse’s stomach turned. “He’s unavailable right now.”

There was a humorless huff on the other end of the line. “That’s not surprising. Tell me something, is it just booze, or is he back on the coke?”

“No, I think he’s just drinking coffee. And at dinner he had a Dr Pepper.”

There was a long pause. Mouse gave serious thought to disobeying Trev. He wouldn’t really spank her. That was just a threat. What if he needed her help?

She started to walk toward the house as the voice on the other end of the phone kept talking.

“Are you serious? Listen, when he comes to, tell him to call me. I have a team in LA desperate for a veteran QB. I’m hopping a flight from JFK to DFW in the morning. He needs to be ready to head out to LAX by afternoon. Got that, doll? And I’ll bring him a little pick-me-up. He needs to look good for these guys.”

The connection was cut without a good-bye, and Mouse grasped the phone. She might need it. She was on the first step, trying to move quietly, when she heard a voice.

“You are not where I left you, Beth.”

Mouse shrieked. He’d caught her unawares. Her heart felt like it would pound out of her chest. Trev stood in the doorway glaring at her.

“It’s my house. You can’t expect me to just stand in the yard while someone murders you.”

“I expect my direct orders to be obeyed.” His sculpted arms crossed over his chest.

“Should I call the cops?” She tried to avoid the whole discussion about direct orders. Something about the way he was looking at her made her a little breathless.

His head shook. “No one’s in there. Are you sure you locked it?”

She bit her bottom lip and tried to remember. “I think so. But maybe not.”

His face hardened. “You live alone in this big house, and you didn’t bother to lock up?”

“Well, nothing much works in this place. And the door isn’t very sturdy. Even if I did lock it, it wouldn’t take much to get in. It’s on my list of things to replace. I don’t even think the back door has a lock.” She laughed a little. Now that the threat had passed, it seemed a little silly. She’d watched too many movies. “Well, I thank you for the ride.”

She started to move past him, but he stood there in the doorway, an immovable hunk of granite.

“We’re not done here, darlin’. You can’t expect me to walk away. Anyone could walk in here while you’re sleeping. You could be raped.”

She laughed outright at that. “Didn’t you hear what Clarissa said? I think I’m safe. No one is going to touch old Mouse Hobbes.”

“I warned you.”

Mouse gasped as Trev pulled her wrist into his hand and started to haul her into the house.

* * * *

Trev felt his blood pressure threaten to hit the roof. It was all too fucking much. First, the altercation with Bo O’Malley, then he’d had to listen to his poor sister fight her husband over having Trev in the house. Then there were the calls from Marty. That had really threatened to send him over the edge. Marty had left about thirty messages promising him money, women, and all the coke he could snort if Trev would just meet with the general manager of the LA team.

Too much.

He’d found himself sitting outside The Rusty Spur before he really knew what was happening. He had just sat there for at least an hour, staring at the building. It had been a goddamn relief when he’d realized Beth was standing at the door. He hadn’t seen her approach, but he’d heard that bitch Clarissa try to drag her down. He hadn’t thought twice. He’d just inserted himself into the situation.

“Trev, what are you doing?”

Beth’s voice came out as a little squeak. He could feel the trepidation coming off her in waves. He knew he should slow down, but they needed to make a few things clear.

“I’m giving you the lay of the land, darlin’.” He found the old sofa in the living room. He’d nearly tripped on it earlier because apparently the overhead lights didn’t work in here. He pulled her over his lap. Bethany Hobbes’s round ass was right over his knee.

Yes. This was just what he needed to get his mind off everything. When he was balls deep in Beth’s ass, he wouldn’t be thinking about a drink. He would just be thinking about how long he could last and how many times he could take her.

“I think the land is laid out enough. Now let me up, please.” Even across a man’s knee, she was polite.

Damn, but she needed a keeper.

“Call me Sir.” He wanted to hear it again. She said it to be polite. She couldn’t possibly know what it did to his dick.

“Trev, if you’re trying to show me all the bad things that could happen to me, then I get your point. You’re bigger and stronger than I am. You don’t have to make a fool out of me.”

He heard the slight hitch in her voice. He had been trained to read women. Beth wasn’t even close to being aroused. She was sad. Her body was slumped over as though she was just waiting for whatever happened to her.

The discipline would have to wait.

He helped her to her feet.

“Thank you. I think you should go now. I promise I won’t get into trouble again.” She smoothed down the skirt of that fluffy, yellow sundress.

“I told you I can’t go. I can’t leave you alone here.”

“This is my home.”

“What’s your dad’s number?”

“My father passed away.”

Trev’s heart clenched. She was alone. She really didn’t have anyone to watch out for her. What the hell was he thinking going after a woman like Beth? She was soft and sweet and deserved way more than he would be able to give her.

And yet, it was so obvious there wasn’t a decent prospect for her on the horizon.

He liked her. He should treat her the way she should expect to be treated, and that meant getting her out of a house that was obviously dangerous. His only other option was to stay here and watch over her. But if he stayed with her, he wasn’t sure he would be able to control his baser instinct. His cock was already aching.

“I’m sorry to hear about your father.” He forced the Neanderthal inside him to take a break. He reached over and flicked on the lamp, praying it worked. It didn’t offer much by the way of illumination, but it was better than nothing. And then he caught sight of the monstrosity over his head. “What the hell is that?”

Beth looked up and a little smile curled her lips. He was happy to see it since her face had paled when she’d mentioned her father. “It’s Maudine Bellows’s version of high art, I’m afraid.”

It was a chandelier of sorts, only where there should be crystal dripping down, someone had made the whole damn thing out of deer antlers. They pointed up, down, and every which way, as though the “artist” hadn’t been able to decide on a direction and simply shoved a mass of sharp antlers into a bundle, parked some lights here and there, and hung it from the ceiling.

It sort of creeped Trev out. “I think that’s a whole herd.”

Beth simply shrugged. “She didn’t have the best taste, I’m afraid. And the actual lights don’t work. I’m going to replace it with something more modern and less, well, dead.”