Adonis in Texas (Rugged and Risque 2)

“Sorry, I’m closing for the night,” she told them.

“Even better,” the tall one said, sizing her up.

Meanwhile, the redhead set aside his can and inspected her merchandise. He gave her a lascivious look as he said, “I bet you’d look hot in these.” A black-lace thong dangled from the end of one beefy finger. “How about you model for us?”

Both men slurred their words when they spoke, making Ginger even more nervous.

“There’s a dance tonight at the fairgrounds,” she told them, “part of the rodeo. You should head over there. The band ought to be starting any minute now.”

“Why don’t you come with us?” the tall one suggested, his gaze a challenging one, but there was also a hint of something dark and foreboding in his beady brown eyes.

“Sorry, I have plans.” She backed away, hoping to reach the large desk where she wrapped purchases in tissue and completed sales. A phone sat on the corner of the desk, and she had a niggling suspicion it’d be a good idea to call 911.

But both men seemed to know the direction in which her thoughts ran. They split up and stalked toward her from both sides, their expressions suddenly tense and determined.

She lifted a hand in an attempt to warn them off and said, “Seriously. Store’s closed. Please leave.”

The dark-haired man shook his head. “I don’t think so, honey.” His gaze shifted to the cash sitting on the desk behind her. She’d tallied the day’s receipts before retrieving her sidewalk display and the money was set to go into a bank deposit bag.

The redhead said to his cohort, “You lost bad at the races going on this morning.”

Swallowing down the hard lump of fear that swelled in her throat, Ginger squared her shoulders, the way she had with Lydia Bain earlier. It was false bravado this time around, but worth a shot. “You really need to leave. My husband will be here to pick me up at any moment and he’s a mammoth of a man. You don’t want to tangle with him.”

Her lie gave them both pause. But only for a second. The tall one inched closer to her as he continued to eye the cash.

Finally, she said, “If you want the money, fine. Take it and go.”

“Maybe we’ll take you with us too,” he said.

Suddenly terrified, Ginger turned and lunged toward the desk, snatching the receiver of the phone. But the burly redhead moved quicker than anticipated and he tackled her, sending her flying backward until they landed on the settee in the corner, rocking the dainty furniture. She let out a shrill cry for help, but he clamped a large hand over her mouth to silence her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the other man shove fistfuls of bills into his pockets. Her hard-earned money.

Ginger could barely breathe, what with the hand on her mouth and the enormous body covering her much smaller one. Not to mention the fear and anger seizing her soul.

“Your curvy little body feels good beneath me,” the redhead said, his breath laden with alcohol. “You’re making me hard.”

Her eyes widened in terror.

“Bet you’ve got a tight, wet pussy,” he murmured in her ear.

Ginger’s alarm escalated. At the same moment, the door of the boutique flew open. She heard the whoosh it made and the crazed jingle of the bell above. Unable to actually turn her head to see who’d barged in, she hoped like hell it wasn’t a friend of the two men accosting her.

The stranger said, “Well, this is a bad situation to find yourself in, darlin’.”

His words made her stomach plummet. She struggled against the man holding her captive, uncertain as to whether or not the one who’d joined them planned to free her or add to the nightmare she suddenly starred in.

But the dark-haired robber was quick to say, “This is a private party, pal.”

Ginger instantly perked

up. They didn’t know this guy! He must have seen the two rowdies follow her into the shop and when they hadn’t come out, he’d decided to intervene.

And by the hesitation in the thief’s voice, she suspected he thought the intruder was the “husband” Ginger had mentioned. That ought to make both men wary.

The surge of nerve that had spurred her to stand up to Lydia on the street sparked the guts it took to jerk her knee between the redhead’s legs. She nailed him squarely in the balls. He instantly released her and fell off the settee.

“What the fuck?” his friend roared. But he didn’t have a chance to do more than that as the third man rushed him and they slammed to the hardwood floor. Ginger sat bolt upright and then leapt to her feet.

She was about to run out of the shop, but was oddly rooted in place as the blond stranger, with the build of a professional wrestler, swiftly flipped the dark-haired man onto his stomach and twisted his arm behind his back, shoving it upward so his fingers grazed his shoulder blade. The man let out an agonized grunt and his friend scrambled to his feet and hobbled out the door as Ginger stared at the broad back of her savior in astonishment.