Page 14 of Tethered

“No. But they will be. Dawn—the woman—is pretty beat up. Hannah took a slap to the face, which is healing faster, thankfully, but still shouldn’t have fucking happened.”

He hisses. “I fucking hate my species sometimes.”

“How’d you know it was a man who did it?”

“Because it’s always a fucking man.” He sighs. And he’s not wrong. I know women can be abusive pieces of shit too, don’t get me wrong, but it’s at the hands of men I’ve suffered the most, and I think that’s the same story for most women.

“Think they’ll mind me and the girls invading?”

“I think it might be nice for Hannah to have someone to play with, to be honest. Though I’ll need to order some things for them to play with. I have no clue what toys girls that age are into.”

“I’ll bring some stuff the girls don’t play with anymore.”

“Thanks, David.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You’re about to have three young girls under your roof. Might want to invest in some earplugs,” he warns me before hanging up.

I laugh. The guy’s been spending too much time with Jen. I toss my cell phone on my desk before running my fingers through my hair. Today had been a long fucking day, and there are going to be many more like them.

“Keep an eye on them,” I tell the house softly. There’s a gentle, almost finger-like stroke across my face in acknowledgment.

I smile as I look around the room, loving what Riggs created here. The wooden desk I’m sitting at is a huge worktop that dominates most of the space. It’s adjustable, so I can sit while I’m working, or stand and raise the desk according to my needs. The rest of the room is made up of cupboards filled with empty stock, like bottles and baskets waiting to be filled, and shelves that line the wall with items ready to be sent out.

I still keep the soil and pots in the barn, only bringing in what I need, so the room doesn’t get too cluttered to work in. It’s peaceful, light, and airy, and exactly what I needed in a workspace.

I am lucky to have a man like Riggs in my life who seems to be a natural at everything he puts his mind to.

I pull the leather-bound book out of the safe, running my hand over the worn cover, before returning to the chair. I set it on the worktop and flip it open. I slowly turn the pages, absorbing the words, thoughts, and incantations from another time. There are doodles and notes that seem out of place, like random thoughts added at the last minute. The handwriting changes often as I turn the pages where I find recipes and?—

No. Not recipes. Spells.

I trail my fingers down the page, drinking in the information with a voracious thirst. I get a quarter of the way in and noticesome pages have been torn out, leaving behind just enough to show me they’re missing, but not enough to tell me why. I place a dried flower between the pages to act as a bookmark before closing it and taking a deep breath. A calm has washed over the house, and as I close my eyes, a sense of peace emanates from it.

“It’s the book, isn’t it?”

I don’t get a response, but then I wasn’t expecting one. I thought what I read might give me some answers, and in some ways it has, but mostly it’s left me with a dozen more questions.

I put the book back in the safe and stretch. My back cracks as if I’ve been hunched over for hours. A glance at my watch tells me that’s not far from the truth. I’ve been in here for three hours reading. I was so absorbed in the book that I lost all sense of time. Though I can’t say that’s not a regular occurrence. Books tend to detach me from reality. The house could burn down around me, and I’d be oblivious.

Not wanting to be unproductive, I mix up a few things while I’m here. I can’t afford to fall behind with my orders. I slip the special ones into the safe before adding labels to the others and slide them onto the shelves that run the length of the room. I clean up and head upstairs to take a quick shower.

By the time I’m done, I’m dead on my feet. I run a comb through my hair and braid it to keep it out of my face. I rub some lightly scented lotion made with roses I grew myself and call it good. I walk naked into the bedroom to grab something to sleep in and freeze when I find a naked Riggs standing next to the bed with his hand wrapped around his cock.

It dawns on me belatedly that I forgot to lock the door. But let’s be honest, even if I’d remembered, I’d have hesitated. The last time we were intimate, Shepard was with us, and I think that’s what made me take a step back from it all. But now I shouldn’t give a fuck about Shepard. I doubt very much that he’s at home lying in bed thinking of me.

Riggs is here. Riggs, this sexy Adonis of a cowboy who wants me so much he seeks me out in his sleep.

I walk toward him, ignoring the hollow pit in my stomach that wishes Shepard were here too, and lightly touch Riggs’s arm with the tips of my fingers. “Riggs?”

He stops stroking himself, and for a moment it’s as if we’re both frozen in time. The only sound in the room is coming from his ragged breathing and my racing heart. Then he moves, far faster than I would have thought possible while asleep. One moment I’m standing beside him, the next I’m on my back in the middle of the bed. I suck in a shaky breath as he crawls over me, his large body easily covering mine. Time seems to suspend itself once more as he stares at me with unseeing eyes.

I break the silence with a whisper. “Riggs?”

He buries his face against the crook of my neck for a moment, breathing me in. His tongue flicks out to taste me, making me shiver. I feel the hard press of his cock against my stomach, and heat pools between my legs. His mouth moves lower, across my collarbone at first, before he trails his lips down between my breasts to my stomach. I lick my lips in anticipation. He moves lower, and his hands slide to my inner thighs, where he spreads me wide and dives in. I cry out because he doesn’t start slow and gentle like I thought he would. He’s eating me out like he’s been starved for months, and I’m hopeless to stop him. My body ceding control to him makes me a little nervous.

When he slides one of his thick fingers inside me, my back arches off the bed, which of course makes him slide in deeper. He sucks my clit as he strokes his finger in and out before adding another, scissoring them. My breathing is coming out short and choppy as I grip handfuls of his hair, because if I don’t hold on to something, I’m going to float off the fucking bed.

I’m on the edge of coming when he pulls back. He gets on his knees between my spread legs and, using his wet fingers, hestrokes himself. I watch him hungrily until he leans over and presses a hand to the bed next to my waist. I suck in a sharp breath when I feel the head of his cock gliding across my slick pussy, coating itself in my arousal before he presses into me. I freeze, my hands gripping the sheets half in panic, half in anticipation as I wait for the pain to tear into me. Only there is no pain. There’s pressure, sure, and he has to thrust lightly to work himself inside me. But by the time he’s fully seated, I’m panting with need instead of fear. I feel so fucking full, but it’s not uncomfortable. I like it. And when he pulls out to the tip and pushes all the way back in, I decide I like that even more.