Chasing The Wild (Crimson Ridge Book 1)

It’s been almost a week since our near miss in the kitchen, and I’ve been so good.

Until today, that is.

I swear, it’s like Colt knew I was feeling proud of myself for staying well away from him and keeping myself occupied like the good little ranch hand I’m here to be.

The barn has been my safe-space to spend as much time in as possible with the horses, distracting my mind that wants to wander to thoughts of the cowboy sleeping just down the hall. I’ve been posting videos and photos of the horses, who are funny and sweet as all hell and seem to adore having my undivided attention heaped on them. Meanwhile, Sage is doing her best to flood my inbox daily with as many riding related puns as possible.

At night I’ve perfected the art of making dinner then excusing myself to go and read before Colt has even sat down to eat.

If he’s got thoughts about my disappearing acts, he’s keeping them to himself.

Mind you, the man has hardly been around. So I suppose we’re approaching this whole awkward tension between us in much the same way.

But now, we’ve taken the horses to head out to some remote part of the property together and it’s the first real time we’ve spent around each other since that night when I definitely flirted a little too hard with the line in the sand.

Apparently the road will be clear tomorrow, and the weather has been settled all week. The sun has been shining the last few days, which means the snow has steadily melted little by little.

“You don’t say much, do you?” Colt turns in his saddle. His black cowboy hat affixed on his head making him look as dashing as ever against the crisp blue sky overhead.

I give him an arched eyebrow. This man is telling me I don’t talk much? The pot is busy throwing stones at the kettle from inside his glass castle.

My silence becomes an intentionally stubborn thing. Which makes him shake his head and look away, but not before I glimpse, spot the moment a tug threatens at the corners of his lips.

Colt readjusts himself in his saddle, and I have to drag my eyes away from the way his jeans hug his ass to perfection.

He’s your ex-boyfriend’s father—and your boss—I remind myself for the hundredth time.

This man is so far off-limits he might as well be galloping across the surface of the moon.

Except, in my head at night there’s a sordid little fantasy world where he and I are drawn together in the dark. Which is exactly where those thoughts have to remain.

“Here will do.” He slows the horses to a stop and hops off. I follow suit, still a little unsure of what we’re doing out here among the pine trees and banks of snow still thick around the trunks at ground level. We’ve finished up with mending holes in fences and checking on the perimeter at the far reaches of the ranch, and instead of heading back as I expected us to, we’ve ended up here.

I’m even less sure why we needed to bring his rifle for this.

Uncertainty sits like a lead weight in my stomach.

What I want to be doing is hiding in the barn, grooming the horses and listening to them munch their feed. Not be out here in the wild with a wolf I can’t seem to resist no matter how hard I try.

My only line of defense has been to avoid him.

Which I certainly can’t do all the way out here.

“There’s a target over there.” Colt points towards a shape hidden amongst the trees. When I shield my eyes and squint, I can see faded rings of paint on it, and the wooden stand is riddled with holes.

“I don’t think I need to learn this.” I’m stroking Peaches’ neck and trying to find an excuse to head back up to the other end of the property. Far, far away from Colton Wilder.

“Yes. You do.” He grunts. Starting to load the rifle.

My palms are more than a little clammy.

“Get over here.” He’s trudging off toward a mound in the snow.

I don’t want to follow him.

“Layla.”

“I’ll just watch.” It’s not like I need to know how to use a gun anyway.

Colt fixes me with one of his death glares. “Layla.” He repeats my name, and it’s so full of venom, I shiver.

“Fine.” Grumbling under my breath, I make my way to where he’s standing.

The next thing I know is I’m on my belly, lying in the snow, and I’ve got a rifle in my hands while Colt stands over me. I’ve tried three shots, and each time, I’ve missed completely.

I’m hopeless.

My toes are numb.

He’s going to think I’m a failure.

I drop my head and blow out a breath. “I told you. There’s no point teaching me this.”

Colt looks down at me with something that definitely looks like disdain.

Maybe it’s better this way. Having him hate my guts is going to make it a lot easier to keep my feelings tucked away out of sight over the next few weeks until I finish working here.

“You’re not even trying.”

“Well, I don’t need this particular skill in order to do my job, do I?”

Colt drops down onto his haunches and grabs my chin. Yanking me to face him, which makes me yelp. His grip is rough and demanding, and it honestly shocks me a little to feel his touch.

Sparks fly beneath my skin where he’s pinching my face.

“You see that point out there, with the big trees and the rock?”

My eyes flicker to the side, in the direction he’s indicating. I nod when I catch a glimpse of where he’s alluding to. It looks like it would make a gorgeous scenic lookout, with a stunning spot to watch Devil’s Peak from at sundown.

“Round here, that’s known as the Ridge. If one of those assholes tries to tell you he wants to take you out there, you’ll know he only wants one thing.”

I’m struggling to see what this has to do with shooting a gun.

“Do it again.” He pushes my face back towards the target.

“I can’t.”

Behind me, I can hear Colt’s teeth grinding. I’m expecting him to storm back off toward his horse and leave me here to wallow in my feelings of inadequacy. But then the snow crunches beneath his heavy weight and the next moment he’s lying beside me.

Oh, god. I can’t handle having him this close. The scent that is so perfectly him captures me with the swirl of leather and masculinity.

He positions himself with his arms wrapping my body from behind.

I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin.

My body is a traitorous little bitch, who starts to preen and swoon and heat up as his weight shifts at my back.

Colt’s mouth is so close to my ear, I can feel his breath brush the fine hairs around my face. I’m instantly a puddle. All my efforts of the past week have flown straight out the window leaving me right back there in the dark of the kitchen with him staring at my lips.

“If you’re out here on your own, or if something happens to me, I have to know you can look out for yourself, Layla.” His lips graze the shell of my ear, leaving a swarm of butterflies taking flight low in my belly.

He repositions my hold on the rifle, making small adjustments to my stance. Talking me through the small details like breathing, finding my target, and remembering to breathe again.

“Find the sweet spot, and take your aim.”

I line the target up. Painfully aware with every shaky breath that Colt is so close to me. Then I squeeze.

The shot goes off.

I hit the target.

“Good girl.” Colt’s rich voice and warm lips are right at my ear.

This man is going to be the death of me.

“I don’t know what you think I need to protect myself from,” I murmur. Soaking up his closeness and the way he feels lying here with me like this. As if our bodies just know intuitively how to fit together in the most natural way.

He shifts, disappearing from my side, and I wince at the loss of his heat and weight covering me.

“It isn’t what… it’s who.” Colt straightens up and does that sexy thing where he runs his fingers through his hair before putting his hat back on, and then his hazel eyes hold mine.

“If anyone tries to touch you ever again, don’t hesitate to use that gun on them.”

I barely make it through the rest of the afternoon in one piece.

By the time we’ve ridden back to the yard, every jolt and shift of the horse beneath me has stoked a fire in my core that refuses to be ignored.

My clit throbs, and I’m so turned on I hastily throw together a meal. Leaving it simmering on the stove, I scribble a note letting Colt know to help himself when he comes in from wherever he’s disappeared off to on the ranch.

I can’t be around him tonight.

The way he pressed himself against me and got so close was like he purposely wanted to push me just to prove a point.

It was as if he wanted to punish me in some way. Or put me through a test.

Lo and behold, I’m a slut for my ex’s father, and I failed that class. Miserably.

Having a shower and hiding out in my bedroom seems like the only options left for me at this stage. I run the water to let it heat. Huffing and yanking at my jeans, socks and sweater, I strip down in the bathroom as steam begins to swirl.

Grumbling to myself, I kick all the offending clothes to land in a heap in the corner.

My entire body feels like a raw nerve ending.

As I step beneath the sluicing water, I let out a shuddering sigh. The thudding on my skin has my eyes dropping closed and I just stand there letting it wash over me from head to toe. I should probably be doing my usual hair care routine, or exfoliating thanks to the dry-ass winter climate, or making sure to hurry up and not spend too long in here.

But right now, I can’t bring myself to do anything because all I see is his face.

There’s nothing but the lingering scent and heat of him damn near imprinted in my brain. Even though there is no possible way that I could be detecting his presence, it still feels like he’s right here beside me.

Seeping through every crack in my defenses and infiltrating my sanity.

I’m a fucking mess.

My eyes flutter open and I grab a handful of body wash from the pump dispenser. Being more than a little forceful with the way I slam down on the top. Why, of all things, did he have to insist on teaching me to shoot a gun? Why would he demand I learn how to do that and act like he was studying me for weaknesses the whole time?

It feels like he’s just trying to find a reason to kick me off his mountain or something.

To prove that I really am just a waste of space and a girl who needs to be sent packing. Worse still, on top of all that tumultuous emotion, is that he views me as belonging to Kayce.

Trying to prevent my mind from imagining what he’s doing right now is impossible. Is he in his own bedroom, doing the same as I am? Would he dare come and confront me and ask me why I’ve snuck off without talking tonight.

Would Colton Wilder walk into this shower and take advantage of the fact he has a young woman under his roof?

Oh, god. Just the thought of that makes my thighs clench and the pulse in my clit intensifies. All of a sudden, I hear it. I hear the sound of the door click, and the brief draft of cool air hits my skin as someone—him—enters the bathroom.

There’s a moment when I spin around, wide-eyed and ask him what he’s doing in here…

But that tiny, frail protest is eaten up when he advances on me. Closing in with his bulk and his strength, he’s got me trapped between his body and the wall.

One hand shoots out to brace against the tiles in front of me, and the tumbling roll of water from the shower flows over my front. My nipples are hard and sensitive as the shower teases each tight bud.

His hands are on me. At my back, he’s solid, immovable, leaning over me and roaming those rough palms down to seek out that hidden space. Fondling the soft swell between my thighs.

My fingers dip down, as I lean up against the tiles. Screwing my eyes shut, I feel the slippery wetness that has been building all day in his presence.

We both know we shouldn’t be in here like this. He hasn’t said a word, because he knows this is crossing a line. One that we absolutely cannot step over.

That’s when, just as my middle finger presses forward, parting my pussy lips, sliding over my clit, I hear his voice, rumbling in my ear. “No one needs to know.”

The roar of blood fills my awareness, and my nails scratch against the wall.

A whimper falls from my lips as I work my finger to rub firm circles over the bundle of nerves.

“Shhh. That’s it. This is just our little secret.” I hear Colt’s voice and imagine it’s his thick finger playing with my soaking wet pussy.

Heat floods me from head to toe and has absolutely nothing to do with the water pouring down. I’m teetering on the brink as I bite down on my lip. Trying to be the good girl for him that he wants. He’s coaxing me to be quiet for him. Not to let anyone hear that he’s in my shower with me, getting me off.

My breathing grows more and more labored, and my forehead drops against the smooth surface of the tiles. A quiver builds in my thighs as I feel the wave cresting. My finger rubs frantically, circling my clit in just the way I know is going to get me there.

God, the ache is exquisite and unbearable.

I need to get there.

Right. Fucking. Now.

Bright sparks flood behind my eyes and I feel the moment everything clenches, chased by the wave breaking over me. Silent gasps, with my mouth hanging open accompany the slow, circling touch as I continue to work over the swollen bud. Drawing out the rolling pleasure.

All the while, the ghost of the man hovering over me stays there.

But when I open my eyes, it’s just me in this lonely shower.

I’m alone.

And I hate that I can’t do anything about it.