Make Me Yours (Bridgewater County 5)

I heard his heavy footsteps across the wood floor and out the front door. Colt had gone out earlier to work on the framing of the new house. The footprint for it was large, and although I’d never seen a blueprint, I knew it would be two stories with the bulk of the windows facing the mountains that were close enough to reach out and touch.

“They said they wanted forever with you,” Ann Marie said.

I tried to swallow, but there was a huge clog in my throat. It hurt, ached and tears burned my eyes, then fell.

“Yeah, they did.” I stood, wiped my cheeks with unsteady fingers. “Look, I have to go.”

“You’ll wait for Matt?”

“Of course. It’s not like I can go anywhere unless I steal Colt’s truck.”

“Okay. Call me back. And soon. I love you, sis.”

I didn’t respond, only ended the call and tried to pull up the worst tabloid web site on the small screen. It was hard to see and I wiped my eyes again, and again.

There it was. On the top of the main page. It was of me and Micah in the lake. His face had been obscured with a blurring tool. My butt was blurred, too, to meet FCC guidelines, but not my face. No, that’s what people wanted to see. It was salacious enough. There was no question I was naked and that we were fucking. My legs were wrapped around Micah’s waist and you could see the curve of his ass.

I scrolled down. The next picture was just as Ann Marie had warned. It had been taken yesterday afternoon. After Micah had carried me into Colt’s cabin and had their way with me, Colt had walked me around the construction site. When he’d finished, he’d said he couldn’t wait any longer to have me again and bent me over a big rock. I’d been in Colt’s shirt—they liked it when I wore them and nothing else—and my sandals and so it had been easy for him to open his pants and fuck me.

God, I’d been so naïve. So dumb to think they wanted me.

I heard a car engine, the crunch of tires. Matt. I’d never met the ranch owner, but I was glad he was here.

I stormed out of the bathroom and found my bag, pulled out a pair of jeans.

All at once I realized I had a stupid butt plug in my ass. I dashed back into the bathroom and carefully—with a whole lot of wincing—tugged it free and dropped it in the trash can. I clenched down, my body sore. Now a reminder of how stupid I’d been. How dirty I felt at the games they’d played with me. They’d said they’d claimed me. Claimed, my ass!

I had to laugh at that as I tossed on a pair of jeans. Dropping to the floor, I grabbed my sandals that had fallen beneath the side of the bed. Tugged them on. Grabbing my bag, I went outside, squinted into the bright sun.

Matt was dark like Colt, but that was where the similarities ended. He was an inch or two taller than Micah, but wide shouldered, lean hipped. He saw me before the others did, tipped his hat.

“Ma’am.” He walked over to me. “I’m Matt from Hawk’s Landing. I’m sorry we haven’t met before now, and I’m sorry we aren’t doing so under better circumstances.”

“Matt told us what’s going on,” Colt said. My heart lurched. He was covered in sawdust, his short hair slicked with sweat. He looked completely edible, all male and gorgeous. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t a two-timing, conniving asshole.

I told him that. His eyes widened.

“And you,” I pointed at Micah. “I believed you. Every word.”

“Sugar, what are you talking about?”

“The pictures. You took them. Sold them.”

Both men looked instantly stunned, then angry.

“You don’t think—” Micah began, but I stopped him by stomping over, holding my phone out.

“I do think. How else would there be pictures of us? Fucking.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Matt stiffen, but I ignored him and the embarrassment that went along with him learning what should have been private. It didn’t matter. My sex life was in full color for the entire world to see. Matt was only one person out of millions.

Micah took the phone, turned so the screen was shielded by the sun. “Fuck!” he shouted.

Colt came over, took it from him, scrolled down.

“We didn’t do this,” he said, his voice deadly.

“So there just happened to be photographers lurking in the trees at the cabin? How did they know there would be a storm, that we’d veer to it? That we’d even fuck?