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  “Slick owes me money. Won’t pay up,” Liv answered. Several of Slick’s friends had gathered at his back and as quickly as that, she’d thrown up the flag to indicate the beginning of the brawling phase of the night. He needed to get her out of here now.

  “Let’s go,” he murmured in her ear, backing them both away from the pool table and forcing his way through the crowd gathering.

  “No,” she said, attempting to break his iron-tight grip on her. “He owes me money.”

  “I’ll give you the goddamn fifty dollars,” Rem growled. “Now move!”

  Angry words began flying across the table and Rem wasn’t sure who threw the beer bottle but within seconds, every man in the room jumped and he was reminded of a pack of wild dogs he’d once seen attack an unprotected calf. Chaos ensued.

  He was shoved roughly from behind, losing his grip on Liv, who’d been waiting for a chance at freedom. She made her way over to Butch, grabbing the man and punching his jaw with the force of a trained boxer. Rem tried not to be impressed, but she was fierce and powerful and by God, she was going to be his. He couldn’t wait to release that fiery spirit in the bedroom.

  Rem knocked over three men, punching two others as he attempted to retrieve Liv before Butch could retaliate. His blood turned cold as he watched Butch reach down, grab a pool cue and swing it at Liv. She ducked the blow at the last minute, slamming forward into the man’s gut with her head. Butch fell backward, crashing into a table before hitting the floor.

  “You fucking bitch,” he screamed as he attempted to get to his feet, slipping on spilled beer.

  The hustlers made their way over to Liv, ready to attack, and Rem blocked a punch from one man while delivering a roundhouse kick to Slick, who’d attempted to sneak up behind him. He watched Liv dispatch the third man by smashing a beer bottle over his head. Rem moved forward, shoving Liv toward the back door as sirens broke through the air. The rioting mass of men scattered like ants at the sound of the police approaching. He managed to get Liv out of the building and around to his truck in time to watch four police cars pull into the parking lot.

  She started to walk toward her own vehicle as Rem dug his keys out of his pocket.

  “Not so fast, spitfire,” he said, intercepting her and lifting her up with a strong arm around her waist. “You’re riding home with me.”

  “My truck’s right there,” she said.

  “You’ve been drinking. I can smell it on your breath.”

  “I had one beer,” she said. She kicked up a fuss but Rem was in no mood.

  He pulled the passenger door open and placed her none too gently in the seat. “Goddammit, Olivia. Sit still!” His words were harsh, loud, and she stopped fighting him as he hooked her seat belt.

  “You are seriously pissing me off, Rem Bradley,” she seethed.

  He chuckled mirthlessly. “Oh darlin’, you can’t compete with me on pissed off right now.”

  He slammed her door shut and crossed to the driver’s side. As he started the truck and pulled onto the road, he forced himself to calm down, forced himself to take several deep breaths.

  “I hope to God you don’t think you can start ordering me around now that you’re home,” she said.

  Rem’s vision went red with fury and he pulled the truck off the road, squealing the tires as he hit the brakes.

  “Jesus Christ!” she yelled, bracing herself with both hands on the dashboard. “What are trying to do? Kill us?”

  The memory of her initiating the massive fight at Stan’s drifted through his mind and his temper snapped. She’d done nothing but test his patience since she’d turned seventeen. He’d shied away from staking his claim out of respect for his father and her youth, but that time had passed. Liv Carter had just spent her last night as a free woman.

  Unhooking her seat belt, he grabbed her and pulled her across the seat. He didn’t give her a chance to respond as he took her lips in a kiss that showed her exactly what she was about to become.

  His woman.

  He forced her lips apart, moving into her mouth with his tongue, tasting and touching every part of her he could reach. Dragging his hands along her neck, he dug his fingers into her thick, silky mass of light brown hair, using his grip to hold her head in place while he feasted on her plump lips.

  He wasn’t surprised by her initial astonishment. She remained motionless for several seconds before he felt her small hands pushing against his chest in a halfhearted attempt to fight him. He deepened the kiss and she responded for several glorious moments before he practically heard the wheels begin to spin in her lovely brain.

  He pulled his face away from hers when she increased the pressure on his chest, trying to shove him away.

  “Don’t fight me, Liv.”

  “Don’t kiss me,” she whispered, her gaze averted.

  He grinned, forcing her to look at him with a slight tug on her hair. “I’m gonna do a hell of lot more than just kiss you,” he warned. “You might want to go ahead and accept that fact.”

  Her brown eyes narrowed but he was finished listening to her hostile words and bullshit. He reclaimed her lips and this time, she didn’t shove him away as he pushed her onto her back, moving on top of her and caging her with his body. He ground his rock-hard erection into her stomach, backing up his threat with a promise. His body wouldn’t be denied.

  His fingers drifted down to her shirt, grasping her breasts through the thin material, fondling her.

  “God, Rem,” she murmured. The heat of her breath on his face and the need lacing her words stirred him on as he bent down to suck her covered nipple into his mouth, drawing on the tight bud.

  Her hands gripped his shoulders and he gave the other nipple the same treatment before moving up to kiss her again. He started to unbutton her shirt, ready to stake his claim and ride her like the wildest stallion on his ranch. By God, he’d already waited far too long for her.

  “Stop,” she whispered, turning her face away from his kisses.

  Her words and the sound of a car passing on the road gave him pause. What the fuck was he doing? His cock was threatening to split the denim of his jeans and he was ready to throw Liv’s legs over his shoulders and pound into her in the middle of town. Shit, if the brawl in the bar hadn’t broken out, he’d have thrown her over the pool table and taken her there. She heated his blood to boiling and he lost all sense of control in her presence.

  “You’ve wanted this as long as I have, Liv. Don’t try to deny it.”

  “Yeah, well, a lot has happened in the last ten years, cowboy. And don’t forget, it was you who left me.”

  Chapter Two

  Liv fought against the impulse that told her she should shut the hell up, spread her legs and welcome Rem between them. The fact that she’d lusted for the man for nearly half her life would hardly come as a surprise to anyone. Her teenaged crush had started the year she’d turned seventeen and since then, her schoolgirl dreams had evolved into hard-core lust-fests that woke her up night after night, sweaty and aching.

  Her comment seemed to douse the growing flames between them and she fought back a whimper when Rem rose and pulled her upright next to him on the seat. “You were seventeen, Liv. I was twenty-one. Last time I checked that’s pretty much illegal in most states.”

  “And the last time I checked, that stopped being a problem on my very next birthday. It’s been ten years, Rem. Ten fucking years. Ten birthdays.”

  He scowled at her and she returned the look. She knew Rem Bradley was used to getting his own way merely by flashing that dark, menacing look, but she’d never been easily cowed. If he thought he could bully her into following suit, he had another think coming.

  “I’m not fond of this penchant you have for four-letter words,” he said, and she laughed.

  “Tough shit.”

  She watched as he gritted his teeth and she fought back a grin at his anger. It felt good to get a bit of revenge against the man who’d left her hot and hurting for years.
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  He sucked in a deep breath before starting the truck again. As he pulled onto the road, she wondered if he’d ever break the silence and offer her an explanation regarding his hasty disappearance from her life. Sure, he’d come home occasionally on leave, but he’d always maintained an uncomfortably large distance between them.

  She’d tried more than a few times to rekindle the undeniable connection, the attraction she’d felt when he’d first returned home from the rodeo, but he’d continually rebuffed her attempts.

  Her feelings for him had changed the summer before her senior year in high school. She’d never taken a serious interest in any of the local boys. The ranch and the horses had been her only loves, her life…until Rem came home. Three years on the circuit had changed her tall, lanky young friend in not-so-subtle ways, molding him into a muscular, carved-from-granite, sex-on-legs man.

  She’d cornered him every opportunity she got, wearing short shorts and too-tight tank tops as often as she could get away with it, which wasn’t often thanks to Joe Bradley’s eagle eye. As hard as she worked to get Rem alone, Rem’s father worked harder to keep them apart. She had no doubt Joe thought her infatuation with Rem was nothing more than a harmless teenage crush—until he’d caught her kissing Rem in the barn one afternoon.

  Her memories of that day and that one kiss—her first kiss—had haunted her for years. “What did Joe say to make you leave?” she asked.

  She watched Rem’s grip on the steering wheel tighten and she knew she’d surprised him with the question.

  He shrugged. “That was a long time ago. Does it matter?”

  The familiar pangs of guilt that accompanied the memory of Rem’s face when Joe had caught them tightened her chest. She’d sensed his agony at what he considered a betrayal. She’d never mentioned that day to Rem or Joe, but the pain of driving a wedge between father and son never lessened, never went away.

  “It does to me,” she whispered.

  Rem glanced at her. Something in her face must have convinced him of her sincerity. “He said what he should have said.” Rem’s voice was gruff. “He told me to get the hell out.”

  Liv flinched. She’d always suspected, always feared that fact, but to have it confirmed cut her like a knife. She’d driven him away from his home. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly, aware that her words were meaningless, useless.

  “Sorry?” he asked. “Liv, that wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I was an adult and I should have known better.”

  “I was relentless,” she said, her fears, her pain spilling out. “I threw myself at you, time and time again. I was the one who kissed you. Not the other way around, Rem.”

  He sighed. “Christ, is that what you’ve been thinking all these years? I wasn’t exactly fighting you off that afternoon. I may have put up a token bit of resistance, but how long do you think it would have been before I started initiating those kisses? Drinking from those sweet lips of yours? My father was right to send me away. You were too young for all the things I wanted to do to you.”

  He pulled onto the dirt road that led to the Bradley ranch and Liv tried to process his words. He’d fought her every step of the way that summer, telling her she was too young, telling her to go out with boys her own age. He’d pushed her away repeatedly but she’d been too stubborn to listen.

  “You’re wrong,” she said as they pulled up to the house. “It was my fault your father sent you away. My fault the two of you fought and you can try to deny it, but I know I’m the reason you’ve stayed away so long.”

  She got out of the car and started toward the front porch, surprised when his arms wrapped around her from behind. “You aren’t going into the house yet,” he said, twisting her around and pushing her in the direction of the barn.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “We have some unfinished business to take care of.”

  She followed him, a sense of unease growing in the pit of her stomach. Unfinished business? The last time they’d been alone together in this barn, she’d kissed him and his father had sent him away.

  As they entered, he walked back to the tack room, the site of their forbidden first kiss.

  “Rem,” she said, dragging her feet as he reached for her hand and continued to pull her along.

  “Don’t bother fighting this, spitfire. I’d say it’s way past overdue.”

  She followed him into the tack room and watched as he closed and latched the door. The room was lit by a single bulb that provided only a dim amount of light.

  Turning, he pushed her against the door. “You’re right. You are the reason I stayed away.”

  Her heart broke with his confession, while her mind tried to reconcile his words with the heat scorching her skin due to his close proximity and lazy, sensual looks.

  “I don’t understand,” she whispered.

  “What I want from you, Liv, what I need…it isn’t tame and easy. I’m going to claim you, take you—make you mine in every sense of the word.”

  She gasped at Rem’s terrifyingly sexy threat as he bent down to kiss her. His lips grazed hers lightly, a sharp contrast to his words and the heated, hungry kisses he’d given her in the truck.

  “I want to finish the kiss my father interrupted all those years ago.” He dragged his lips gently along hers and she was struck by the sensation that he was offering her a real first kiss. Had he known she’d never been kissed by a boy that day she’d cornered him? His lips continued to dance against hers with an innocence, a sweetness that took her breath away, destroying her ability to resist him. She’d wanted him forever and she was disappointed when he pulled back.

  “I owed you a decent first kiss,” he said, grinning down at her.

  She fought back a groan as he stepped away from her, pulling a crate to the center of the room and sitting down.

  “You know I wouldn’t mind a second and third kiss,” she said, returning his smile.

  After years of being ignored and pushed aside by him, she should be telling him to take his kisses and shove them where the sun don’t shine, but she’d wanted him far too long. Besides, what if he took her words at face value and she had to wait another decade or so for him to make another move? She may be a bit miffed, but she wasn’t stupid.

  He beckoned her by crooking his finger and she went willingly. He grasped her hips when she stopped a few feet away and pulled her closer. His face was eye-level with her pussy and she fought to catch her breath at the intimacy of their positions. She closed her eyes and silently prayed that no matter what happened tonight, he wouldn’t stop. She’d gladly pay the piper tomorrow for one night with Rem.

  “Pull down your pants,” he demanded. His voice was deep with a military arrogance that insisted he was going to have his way. The tone sent a delicious shiver up her spine.

  She reached for the button of her jeans, unclasping it before dragging down the zipper. Her heart was racing and her thoughts were a jumbled mess but she was too needy, too hot to stop this show.

  She started to shimmy the tight denim over her hips but Rem stopped her with firm hands against her wrists. “Panties too,” he added, when he realized she was leaving the scrap of lace in place.

  The idea of being completely bare to him from the waist down started the butterflies fluttering in her stomach and she wondered if she should at least try to slow things down. Explain to him exactly how much hadn’t changed in the last decade.

  His hands went up to the waistband of her panties, bringing them down to meet her jeans. “Take them both off,” he repeated, replacing her hands on the material.

  She sucked in a breath, hoping it would calm her, before following his command, pushing the material down. She toed off her boots before kicking off both articles of clothing.

  Before she could consider his next move, he reached up and gripped her wrists, pulling her facedown over his lap.

  “What the hell?” she cried, trying to get up.

  His hand landed on her ass in a series of sh
arp, fast slaps that stung more than hurt.

  “That’s for your foul language. You can be sure every time you throw another one of those four-letter words at me this is exactly where you’ll end up. No woman of mine curses like a sailor.”

  Liv continued to struggle, furious at herself for getting trapped in this position. She wasn’t his woman. He’d rejected her year after year. “You can kiss my ass if you think I’ll let you—” she began, but her words were cut off by more smacks.

  “I can see we may be here awhile, and I haven’t even started to punish you for that barroom brawl.” His next blows were harder and Liv bit back a cry. “No comeback, Olivia? No more threats?”

  Her breathing was harsher now and speech seemed suddenly difficult. The spanking had crossed an odd line as she found herself subconsciously moving into his blows. His hand stopped after a particularly hard smack to caress her burning skin.

  “Promise me you won’t go into Stan’s Bar alone ever again,” he demanded.

  She started to refuse but before she could utter a word, his hand dipped between her legs, his fingers caressing the entrance to her pussy.

  She gasped at the delicate touch and fought back the urge to beg for more. She had her pride, after all. She refused to give in to him despite the fact her body seemed to be doing that very thing. She felt a gush of moisture gathering at her entrance and she knew the moment Rem felt it.

  “Mmm,” he hummed. “Wet and hot. I wonder if you’re tight too.” Rather than wait for an answer, he pushed one finger inside her as she moaned at the overwhelming impulses his single touch triggered in her body.

  “Jesus, so tight,” he murmured reverently and she could only assume he liked what he’d found.

  “Rem, I—” she began, her voice hoarse, weak.

  “No,” he said, cutting her off again. “Dammit, Liv. I’ve waited too long for you, wanted you too badly. I’m only human. If you’re still angry, if you don’t want me, say so. Otherwise I’m about two seconds away from putting you on your back on this floor and taking you—long and hard.”