Corralled (Blacktop Cowboys 1)

You dated Kyle.

Kyle was different. He’d never pulled macho cowboy bullshit with her. She’d expected him to look down his nose at the CRA bull riders, as the rivalry between the CRA and EBS was legendary. But he’d fit right into the CRA circuit. She wondered how Kyle was doing. Lainie hadn’t spoken to Hank since she’d left Wyoming five long days ago.

“Excuse me. If you’re done starin’ at Jake’s ass, he could use some medical help.”

Guffaws broke out.

Lainie’s gaze whipped to Ace Newharth. Even though he was dead wrong about the direction of her unfocused gaze, trying to stop her blush was pointless. “What do you need?”

“What’re you offerin’ me, sweetness?” Ace said with a lewd wink.

A punch in the mouth. “Do you require medical assistance?”

“Yes. I’ve got this pain in my groin. You wanna get down on your knees and have a closer look at it?”

More braying laughter.

Lainie bit back her response—I don’t have a cure for small cocks—and said, “If you don’t have a real injury, leave so we can assist those that do.”

A male chorus of ooohs rang out.

Ace’s mouth flattened. “You ain’t pretty enough to get away with talkin’ to me like that.”

Direct hit.

Lainie turned her back on him. But he grabbed her arm and jerked her close enough to gift her with garlic breath. “Let me go.”

“Ask me nice. Real nice.”

What the hell were her male colleagues doing while this ass**le was manhandling her?

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Bobby and Dr. Horrible engaged in conversation. They weren’t paying attention to their own patients, let alone her. Swallowing her anger, she softened her tone. “Please. Let go of my arm, Mr. Newharth.”

“You know my name.”

“Everyone knows your name.” Everyone thinks you’re an ass**le went unsaid.

He released her. Smiled nastily. “Lucky for you. Now see to my buddy; he thinks he sprained his riding thumb.”

“I’m afraid I’m not qualified to help him with that.” She pointed. “That doctor is.”

All three bull riders harrumphed and ambled away. But Lainie felt Ace’s eyes on her the entire time. It creeped her out. Not only was he married, but he proudly proclaimed himself a Christian cowboy. His crude behavior really rankled her.

Tanna had texted her that she’d pick her up out front at the main entrance to the arena. Three-quarters of the way through the event, Lainie started hauling stuff to the sponsor’s van—with no help from Bobby or the bad doctor. Dusty always lent a hand. Did he do that at all events? Or just the ones she worked? Because she was a woman? Or because she was Jason Capshaw’s daughter?

Didn’t matter. She wouldn’t say boo to Dusty about his non-helpful workers. Wouldn’t be her concern much longer anyway. She’d be working nine to five in the office, and hauling boxes would be someone else’s responsibility.

She stopped to watch the last rider, hoping the guy didn’t get injured, as she’d already packed up the medical supplies. He rode eight seconds without incident.

The door to the medical room was closed on her return but the Lariat Sports Medicine team sign remained up. Neither Bobby nor Dr. Horrible was in the room, but they’d left their marks: empty Styrofoam coffee cups, soda cans, food wrappers, blank pages of paper.

Dammit. She was not a maid. Grumbling to herself, she set the room to rights. She’d almost finished when she heard the shuffle of boots behind her. She whirled around and found herself face-to-face with Ace Newharth.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Her heart rate spiked. What was he doing here?

Stay calm. There could be a perfectly valid explanation for why he’s shown up.

She couldn’t muster a smile, but she managed to keep her tone even. “Mr. Newharth. The medical room is all packed up.”

“And you’re all alone.” The sound of the door clicking shut was as loud as a gunshot.

“What do you want?”

“A little taste of your feisty side.”

“I’m not interested. It’d be best if you left. Right now. Before Bobby and the doctor get back.”

“They’re gone. It’s just you. And me.”

“Get out.”

Ace laughed and advanced on her. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Neither are you. ’Cause you gotta get past me to get out that door. And there’s a reason my nickname is ‘Tank,’ so go ahead and try. I don’t mind getting rough.”

Lainie screamed. Twice. As loud as she could.

He was on her in an instant, shoving her into the cement wall. One hand clamped over her mouth; the other circled her throat. His lower body trapped hers. “Do that again and I’ll wrap my hands around your neck until you pass out. Then I will f**k you while you’re unconscious any f**kin’ way I want to if I hear another sound come out of your stupid mouth. Understand?”

She nodded.

He rubbed his fingers over her lips. The garlic scent of his breath in her face made her gag. “Bet you can suck real good.”

A sick feeling ran through her. How long before things started to go fuzzy from lack of oxygen to her brain?

“Shoulda been nicer to me.” His hand pushed into her larynx hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. His lower body pinned hers to the wall.

Stay alert! Kick him in the balls. Do something. Don’t just stand there! Fight back.