Unleashed: Volume 1 (Unleashed #1) (3 page)

I realized I was pacing
the floor of my office. I’d worked out that morning for over an
hour, pouring with sweat, but my fists still clenched with pent-up
energy. Kara Brooks. In my office in a matter of minutes.

Back in the day, she
hadn’t belonged to me. She’d been the perfect cheerleader dating
the mayor’s son, the quarterback of the high school football team.
You’ve seen that movie. It was playing right now all across small
towns in America. Who knew, by now Kara was probably married and
pregnant with her third. She might walk right into my office with two
toddlers hanging off her legs. I’d probably still find her hot.

Those tank tops she
used to wear, one thin strap carelessly sliding down her creamy
shoulder, the top of her breast rising out of her exposed bra. Such a
deadly mix of innocence and need, inexperienced but her body had
wanted me to teach it. I could see it in her widened eyes when I’d
catch her looking at me, her quickened breath, her taut nipples.

Around Kara, I got real
good at exercising restraint. I could turn my back on the most
tempting sights. I’d throw myself into physical labor so demanding
I almost forgot about the skirt she had on, so short you prayed she’d
drop something so you could watch her bend on over, ripe ass spread
and offered up.

“Mr. Hunt? Your 11
o’clock is here.” My assistant’s voice blared from the speaker
on my phone.

“In a minute.” I
moved to pour myself another glass of water. Cold water. Like
spritzing a mister onto an inferno.

I was Declan Fucking
Hunt. I sat down behind my large, imposing desk, pulling myself
together. I didn’t get all worked up. I commanded and controlled.
“Send her in,” I ordered.

I didn’t know why
Kara Brooks was coming back into my life, but I wasn’t going to
make it easy for her. She’d never made it easy for me. No, whatever
it was, I was going to make her work for it.

Kara walked through the
door. I was glad I was sitting down. My cock swelled even more, rigid
and thick at the sight of her.

Slightly out of breath,
she entered my office, those long legs wrapped in soft, faded jeans
that molded to her curves. She wore a white t-shirt, thin cotton. On
anyone else it might look casual and forgettable. On Kara, she filled
it out like a swimsuit model, just enough coverage to make you think
hard about what was underneath. I could see the outline of her bra, a
hint of lace along the edge of those generous curves. And she wore
cowboy boots. Fuck if I couldn’t instantly see her in nothing but
those boots, spread across my desk, my mouth buried in her pussy,
making her come screaming my name.

“Declan.” She
breathed it out like it was difficult for her to say it, flushed and
nervous standing before me.

“Kara.” I assessed
her coolly. I wasn’t giving her anything. I wanted to make her play
her hand first.

She squirmed a bit,
shifting her weight on those boots of hers. She bit her lip and
tucked a stray strand of long, blonde hair behind her ear. I’d bite
that lip of hers for her.

“Thanks for meeting
with me.” Her voice sounded quiet, shy.

I nodded and said
nothing. I knew I was being a cold bastard, but I loved seeing her
there before me, unsure and agitated. Fuck, I loved it.

She didn’t look much
different than when I’d last seen her. Curves more lush, if that
were possible. Cheeks still flushed with the pink bloom of youth. She
was 24 now to my 27.

“Um… how are you?”
she asked.

“I’m good.” I
leaned back in my big leather chair, clasping my hands together
behind my head. I’d worn a suit that day, even though when I was in
Montana I rarely did. Dark jeans and a collared shirt worked fine
most days in these parts. The suit and tie came out with the New
Yorkers. But today had felt like a day for a suit. Now I knew why.

I watched her take me
in, my strong chest stretched out as I leaned back. She’d never
seen me as anything but a young, dusty ranch hand. I wanted her to
see how much I’d changed. I wanted her to know without a doubt that
she was now dealing with a wealthy, powerful man.

“How are you?” I
asked.

“Fine. It’s good to
see you.” She blushed as she met my gaze, heavy on her. She licked
her lips, quick and nervous with her pink tongue.

I clenched my jaw, my
breath coming out a quiet hiss. “Sit down.”

Breathless, she
complied. So good at taking orders.

“What brings you
here, Kara?” I took control of the meeting. She didn’t seem to
have the composure to do so herself.

Sitting on a smaller,
less comfortable chair than my own, I could see Kara try to pull
herself together. She drew her shoulders back, unconsciously offering
me a more generous view of her gorgeous breasts, a slice of cleavage
peeking through at the base of the modest V-neck. She lifted up her
chin and began.

“We’re bankrupt.”
Now she looked straight at me, meeting my steely eyes. “We’re in
debt, bad. I’m going to lose the ranch. Unless…” Here she found
herself unable to form the words and actually name it out loud.

So she needed my help.
That was it. I should have guessed it was my money that drew her back
to me.

“Why don’t you
apply for a loan?” I asked, coolly.

She gave a short laugh
with no humor. “I’ve applied for loans. I didn’t get any of
them.” In a quick flash of frustration, she gestured to my desk.
“Believe me, I’ve sat through a lot of meetings with a guy behind
a desk telling me no.” She swallowed, hard.

“Where’s Harlan?”
I asked, getting frustrated myself. Why was he sending his daughter
out to do all the dirty work?

“He died. Cancer.”
She fought it, but tears welled up in her eyes.

“Sorry to hear that.”
I meant it. I might have some mixed feelings about the man, but those
few words spoke a world of hurt. She nodded in response, gripping the
arm of her chair.

“When?”

“Six months ago. He
fought it for about a year, but…” She shrugged.

I could see it now, the
shadow of pain in her eyes. The tension in her jaw. I hadn’t caught
it at first. “I didn’t know. How are you getting by?” No ring
on her finger, no toddler on her leg, I guessed somehow she was still
single.

“Bill’s been
staying on, helping me run the place. Do you remember him? Our
foreman?”

“I remember.” Our
gazes locked. The words were simple, but the memories were not. I
knew we were both recalling much more than old Bill, back in the day.

She looked away first,
seeming to need the separation to re-focus. “So, Bill. He’s been
helping out, but I can’t ask that of him much longer. I need
money.” She looked back at me, desperation now creeping into her
voice. “Declan,” she choked out. “I’m hoping you can help me.
I need a loan. I’ll pay you back, I swear.”

She sat before me,
plump lips parted, hands now on her knees as she leaned toward me.
Needing me. The girl I’d had to watch for months on end prancing
around in next-to-nothing, tantalizing, teasing, making me crazy.

And now she’d come to
me asking for money.

“It’s been a while,
Kara,” I observed, drily.

“Six years.” She
gave a nervous laugh and looked down at the floor.

“I’m sorry to hear
about Harlan. But tell me, why should I be interested in bailing out
a failed ranch?” I knew I was being an asshole. A good guy would
pull out the checkbook right then and there, no questions asked. But
I wasn’t a good guy, now was I? I was a cold, ruthless bastard and
I wanted to hear her out, see where it might lead.

Kara looked up, those
clear blue eyes now flashing with anger. “My father was a good
man.” She stood up, shaking, one hand still on the arm of the
chair. “He cared about people. He wasn’t always the best
businessman. He didn’t always make the best choices. But he did
take a chance on you, Declan, back when not a lot of people would
have. You were young and looking for work and he helped you out.”

“I worked hard for
that man. I don’t owe you anything.”

She exhaled sharp and
angry between her teeth. “Sure, fine. I don’t know what I was
thinking.” She put her hand on her hip and looked down at the
floor, then dropped her hand down again. “Don’t worry about it.
I’ll figure something out.”

“Like what?”

She looked at the
corner of my desk, not meeting my eyes. Then she steeled her resolve
and took one last shot. “Listen, I hear you invest in real estate
now.” She gestured around my office, as if it demonstrated her
point. “You run luxury ranches, or ranches for tourists. I don’t
know everything about it, but I figure you probably need some help. I
know a lot about running ranches. If you have a job for me at one of
your places, I’ll do it. I’ll work to pay off my debt.”

“You want a job?”

“Yes, Declan, I want
a job. I need a loan and I need some way to pay you back. Picking up
more shifts at the Chat ‘n’ Chew isn’t going to cut it.”

Intriguing. Unexpected.
I rested my chin on my fist and watched her fidget, animated and
flushed.

“I’m organized. I’m
a hard worker.” She ticked off her selling points. “I know
everything that needs to be done on a ranch. And I’ve just had a
crash course in bookkeeping.” She gave that dry laugh again. I
wanted to hear her real laugh, the one that bubbled out of her like a
spring brook.

“Or maybe you could
see our place as an investment?” she continued. “Turn it into one
of your destination resorts? I know my dad wasn’t too excited about
that, but,” she shrugged, “I think maybe he was wrong.”

I had tried to talk to
Harlan back in the day. He’d shut the idea down fast.

“Declan, I swear, if
you give me a loan I’ll pay you back every penny with interest. And
I’ll work hard to do it. You name the terms.”

Our eyes locked, hers
heated and passionate, mine still cool and controlled. “I name the
terms.” My voice came out low, commanding.

She swallowed, nervous.
My gaze caressed her, down her throat, resting on her gorgeous
breasts straining against that white t-shirt. I wanted to bring my
hands to them, fingers teasing, lightly pinching her nipples to make
her gasp. As if responding to my fantasy, her breath drew into a soft
pant. Fuck if her nipples didn’t tighten, hardening for me into two
pebbles stretched against the thin fabric. She’d always been so
responsive, so suggestive of how nasty she might get right beneath
that light surface of perfect.

Through the speaker on
my phone, my assistant’s crisp, professional voice announced, “Sir,
your next appointment is here.”

I’d like to hear Kara
call me “sir.” She flushed. I wondered if she could read my mind.

“Two minutes,” I
responded. This meeting was over. But I wasn’t done with Kara, not
yet.

Leaning forward in my
chair, the stealth of a panther stalking its prey, I told Kara, “I’ll
consider it.” She waited for more, trapped and nervous. “Tonight,
seven o’clock,” I continued. “Meet me for dinner at the
restaurant in the Stanyon Hotel. Do you know it?”

She shook her head no.

“Fig and Fennel, a
couple of blocks from here.” I stood up and slowly approached her.
I loved her temper. I couldn’t resist stoking it, playing with it.
I liked seeing a flash of anger in her eyes a hell of a lot more than
the sadness I’d seen creeping around the edges. Raising an index
finger to her, I issued a challenge. “You want a loan? Give me your
best pitch.”

She arched an eyebrow,
disbelieving and a little pissed off. “My best pitch?”

“I’m not easy to
persuade,” I continued, moving closer. When you stood over six feet
tall, you could use your height to your advantage, take your time and
then draw yourself up to own all of the space around you.

I looked down at her.
She was 5’6” and all curves. My voice low and slightly teasing, I
told her, “You need to sell me. You’d better bring it.”

Now with a hot blaze of
anger in her eyes, Kara glared at me with defiance. “Seven o’clock.
I’ll be there.”

I towered over her,
holding her gaze and I could see her breathing grow shallow. Clearly
needing to create some distance, she took a step back. And another. I
kept my focus on her and gave a nod of dismissal. She turned around
and practically ran out of my office.

I watched her hustle
away. If she had any sense at all she would keep on moving, skip
dinner in favor of a long drive back to her ranch. She’d realize
that she had far safer options than what I offered.

Kara Brooks. The one
I’d wanted most. The one I’d never gotten to have. Not really,
not the way I wanted her, for days on end, pounding and relentless as
she moaned and screamed for more.

Back when I’d known
her, I’d still had nothing. I’d been the kid pressing my nose up
against the window of the candy shop, licking my lips and salivating
over a sweet hopelessly out of reach.

Kara was the candy. And
now I wasn’t just being offered up a platter of treats. I was being
handed the keys to the whole fucking store.

Kara

Then

It was the first hot
afternoon of the spring, early April and already into the 80s. And it
was Friday to boot. My friends and I had a bonfire planned that night
down by the lake. I was stopping home for a second to grab a few
things and pull on my new bikini, pink gingham with a ruffle up top.
My best friend Mandy said it was super cute and she had great taste,
but I still felt self-conscious about it.

I’d developed a lot
over the years, heading on down the alphabet from Bs to Cs and I
seemed to be getting even closer to D-cups every day. Sometimes it
was fun, I liked how I filled things out, but sometimes it felt like
too much. I could still remember racing around in nothing but a
t-shirt, no worries, but I guessed that was a good four or even five
years ago. Time was a funny thing. Now at 18 when I cheered with the
squad I had to wear not one jog bra but two to tame the girls. The
twins, as my boyfriend Bruce liked to call them. Ha ha.