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His eyes fill with rage. “I'm going to go kill him,” he says. “I'm going to go find that bastard. And I'm going to—”

“It's too late,” I tell him, shaking my head. “I killed him before I left. I shot him. He's dead. It was my only chance to get away. Marjorie died in her sleep or something. And he was distraught,” I explain. “I knew it was my only chance to catch him off guard. I knocked the gun out of his hand and I pulled the trigger.”

I squeeze my eyes shut tight. My shoulders start to shake. Rye sits on the couch next to me. He wraps his big arms around me.

“It's okay. It's okay, Prairie. You can cry all you need. Just let it all out.” He runs a hand over my back, soothing me. Growling under his breath. “Goddamn it. That monster… what those people did to you… It's so fucked up. It's so wrong.

My God, Prairie, what you've been through.”

I steady myself, willing my hands to stop shaking, and I look into his eyes.

“Rye, I am not a victim. I am strong. I told myself every day that I would get out, eventually, and I would be okay. I wasn't going to let what happened to me for those years define me. I know I have problems and PTSD and things I'm gonna have to work through—but I'm not weak.”

“I never said you were weak,”Rye says. “Hell. You ran through those woods into that clearing on a mission. You knew what you needed.”

I lick my lips, leaning close enough to kiss Rye Rough. “Yes, I knew what I needed. I needed you. I know it sounds crazy. I know you probably think I'm delusional or concussed. But I’ve had a vision of you all these years. I had this idea of a man who was big and strong and would take care of me, a man just like you. And then there you were. When I needed you most. You were here for me.”

“Prairie,” Rye says with a look in his eyes, a look of concern, of intensity, “you need to see a doctor.”

“I know,” I tell him. “I know I do. But first, please, let me kiss you.” I’m pleading, really. I lean in and he doesn't pull back.

My lips press against his and I give myself the gift I've been dreaming about for so long.

Soft lips. Strong man. Arms wrapping around me and holding me tight. I sink into that kiss, crawling into Rye’s lap. He doesn't let me go. It's like he knows what I need.

I need him.

He cradles me in his arms, making me feel safe and secure. Like I'm protected, and that's what I've needed all these years. Someone to protect me.

The kiss lasts for ages. My tongue finds his and the kiss deepens and becomes something desperate, electric.

I'm on my back on that couch and he's kissing me harder. I feel the swell of his cock against my belly. And I wrap my legs around his torso. Needing him, needing more, needing everything.

I'm panting against his mouth. My nipples hard, my pussy wet. I'm aching for him. Him. His hands against my core. I want his body against mine.

I want this feeling to last. It's been so long since I felt good.

But Rye pulls away. “I can't,” he groans. “We can't.” He looks at me, tortured. His eyes are bloodshot and he rakes a hand through his hair. “Prairie,” he says, scooping me up in his arms. He's holding me, but he's not kissing me.

He's pressing a hand to his cock, as if willing his hard-on to fade. “I want you,” he says. “I want you bad. But we can't do this. We need to get you down this mountain. I need to take you home.”

5

RYE

As much asI want to sit here in this cabin, kissing—among other things—Prairie all the damn day, I know that I can't. I need to get her down this mountain and get her into urgent care.

And I need to call my brother Graham on the way down so he can get police officers up to the cabin where she was held captive.

“Prairie,” I say. “I know you want to stay here, and that the cabin is finally warming up and I'm guessing you aren't up for a long day of travel. But darlin’, I can't keep you here. You need to go to the police.”

She presses her lips together. Taking in my words. “I'm glad you're the voice of reason,” she says softly. “I feel all mixed up. And I can imagine myself getting in a warm bath and falling asleep and not waking up for a week. And oh, if there is a big warm bed here? I can imagine lying in it with you for days, weeks on end.”

I close my eyes for a moment. Just imagining that this beautiful woman, with the body of an angel, with the eyes of my soulmate, was in bed with me.

I open them though, needing to ground myself in reality.

“Prairie, as much as I want to get swept away in that fantasy, we can't do that right now. We got to go. We have to be responsible.”


Tags: Frankie Love Romance