Rough, Raw, and Ready (Rough Riders #5)(17)

Finally he dredged up a semblance of sanity. “I love her, Ed. I’m not with her because she was my second choice.”


“I know. Why do you think it hurts me so bad, meu amore?”


My love. That single, familiar endearment could prove to be his undoing. Another pause lingered before Trevor said, “I can’t do this. I swear to f*cking God I cannot do this again.”


“We’ll figure something out this time.”


“No.”


“Look at me.”


Trevor shook his head.

“Goddammit. Look. At. Me.”


Heart thumping crazily, Trevor pulled back and caught the golden gaze that’d haunted his dreams since the day they’d gone from friends to something more.

Edgard curled one hand around Trevor’s face, keeping the other fisted in his shirt.

“Tell me how to fix this.”


“We can’t and talkin’ about it ain’t gonna change nothin’.”


“We were always better at f*cking away our problems rather than talking them out, eh?”


No hint of a smile graced either of their faces.

“Neither one of those is an option now.” Trevor angled his head and impulsively kissed Edgard’s rough palm before stepping back. But he’d forgotten Edgard’s sheer strength as the man halted his retreat.

“You don’t remember how good we were together? Our pricks rubbing together as we rolled on the bed until we exploded? You don’t remember how wet and eager my mouth felt sucking every drop of spunk from your cock? You don’t think about how deep I reamed that tight * of yours as you bucked and begged me for more?”


Flashes of their past encounters made it impossible for Trevor to move away.

“The bondage games, your ass, cock, and balls spread for my taking. Jacking each other off in the silence of the horse trailer because we couldn’t wait another second to be together. That burning need for a f*ck or a suck or a handjob from a man who knows exactly how you like it—is any of that ringing a bell? Or is it making you hard as a fencepost, Trev? Because I remember how hot you burned when I talked dirty as I was f*cking you.”


“Stop.”


“You don’t want me to stop, you stupid, stubborn bastard.” Edgard snarled and devoured Trevor’s mouth in another possessive, bruising kiss.

Before Trevor could break free from the temptation, a distressed gasp somewhere to the left speeded up the process. Trevor shoved Edgard away. He spun so fast he lost his balance. But the damage had been done.

Chassie stood in the shadows in absolute shock.

Chapter Seven


Not happening. Not happening. Not happening.

Her body, her will, her consciousness appeared to be floating in another dimension, as this one shifted and twisted into the surreal. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

Not happening. Not happening. Not happening.

She had not witnessed her husband in the arms of another man. She had not seen him kissing another man like he was everything in his world. She had not heard the details of how they’d been together, what they’d been together. She had not imagined how badly they wanted to be together now.

Not happening. Not happening. Not happening.

The mantra she’d used during her childhood to vanquish nightmares wasn’t working this time.

It was happening and she’d been a party to it all. From the corner of the chute where she’d been an unwilling voyeur in the details of her husband’s past life. She’d watched Edgard approach and accuse. She’d heard the angry longing and denial in Trevor’s words and posture. She’d observed the mating ritual—the banter, the fight, the manifestation of desire resulting in pure physical passion.

Chassie couldn’t process it. Not even when Trevor said, “Chassie, baby, let me explain.”


She couldn’t speak. Not even when she wanted to scream.

But when Trevor started toward her, she found the will to move. And so she did. She turned and ran.

“No! Chassie, wait! Don’t go.”


Tears blurred her vision. Instead of running into the barn, she raced for the open field beyond the fence. Before she’d reached the gate and her freedom, two strong arms banded her upper body, lifting her off the ground.

Her flight instinct fled and her fight instinct was in full gear. She kicked and thrashed and when she had enough air in her lungs, she began to holler. “Don’t you touch me!”


Trevor flinched.

“I mean it. Let me go! Let go of me right now, you cheating goddamn bastard!”


“Chass. Calm down.”


“Calm down? Fuck that and f*ck you.” Chassie jerked her body sideways.

“I don’t want to hurt you, so stop fightin’ me.”


“Stop touching me when I said to get your goddamn hands off me.”


“You really don’t want that, sweetheart.”


A frustrated scream tore from her throat. “Yes I do. Let me go right f*cking now.”


“No.”


“You’re a lying son of a bitch and I want you to let…me…go!” she shrieked, hating the way he’d immobilized her. Chassie drummed her bootheels into his shins, trying to bruise his body as badly as he’d bruised her heart. She’d twisted so violently against his iron hold that her hair had come loose from her ponytail and swirled around her head. A few strands stuck to her tear-stained face.