Rough and Ready (More Than A Cowboy #2) - Vanessa Vale Page 0,17
and tossed her over my shoulder. I didn’t slow as I went up the stairs, even when she pummeled my back. I only set her down when we were in my apartment, door locked behind us.
I sat down in my overstuffed armchair, took her hand and pulled her to stand before me. The apartment was sparsely furnished. I didn’t need much. There were no knick-knacks from trips, no family photos. Yeah, my dad never let me stop the car for a selfie together after he robbed a convenience store. No framed prints on the walls. I didn’t bring women here, so there was no one to impress.
After a long day of training, I liked to sit in my chair in front of the TV, zone out or even ice something that needed it. While it wasn’t my bed, it was a close second. And having Harper stand before me… hell. Just having her in the apartment changed the feel of the place.
I didn’t release her hand but tugged her close, my knees parted, so she was right there. If I leaned forward, I could put my mouth on her breast.
She was pissed. Really pissed. Perhaps she knew she couldn’t win against a fighter. Perhaps she was just being patient and waiting for a moment to strike—or slip away. It was a smart move for an uneven fight, and I figured this was more her plan. But I wasn’t going to let that happen. She wasn’t going anywhere until I had this figured out. Until I had her figured out.
“I’ll get you off,” I promised. “Come closer.”
Giving her a tug, she gasped as she fell forward, her hand landing on my shoulder for balance. Her one knee settled on the outside of my thigh. Her skirt was narrow, so she hovered above me somewhat awkwardly.
“Reed,” she practically growled, trying to retreat.
My hands cupped her thighs just above her knees and slid the material of her skirt up until she could settle herself, straddling my legs. I was used to a willing woman on my lap. Harper resisted and cried out my name again, and it wasn’t in pleasure.
I studied her closely. I’d let her go if she was really freaked. Right now, she was just mad. I could handle that. I needed to know what was going on in that gorgeous head of hers. She was probably one of the smartest people I knew, yet she’d been ready to fuck Larry. It made no sense.
“I don’t want to have sex,” she told me, making it clear she was saying no. I saw the crease that formed in her brow, heard her angry tone. I still didn’t let her up.
“Oh? You wanted it downstairs. Is it me? I just don’t do it for you?” The sarcastic lilt to my voice didn’t go unnoticed.
A sigh escaped as she glared at me. “Just leave me alone.”
“No can do, princess.”
Her palm pushed against my chest, as if that would help her. The feel of her small hand made my dick hard, but I willed it down. Now wasn’t the time to play.
“Stop calling me that.”
I flicked my gaze to meet hers. “Compared to me, you’re a princess.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’m just going to go to my apartment.”
With one hand on her thigh, I kept her in place. “If you don’t give a shit about Larry, why were you going to let him fuck you?”
“Do you give a shit about every woman you’re with?” she countered, the words fired like bullets. I wasn’t going to answer that. It was a double standard with what men got away with, but this wasn’t about her sex life. It was about her safety. I had size and weight on my side, plus my ability to fight. I could protect myself. Harper was easy prey for an asshole who wanted more than she was willing to give, especially if she were the one doing the offering.
“I saw the way the girl at the pizza place was with you,” she continued. “Don’t tell me you didn’t fuck a groupie after some match and never see her again.”
“I won’t.” I wouldn’t lie to her. I’d fucked women and forgotten their names directly after. A few I hadn’t even known their names. “But you’re not me. A quickie isn’t your style.”
“Are you sure? You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough. You wouldn’t do this unless—”
I stopped the rest of the sentence because it all made sense. All at once, I knew,