Page 11 of Broken Strings

“I know more than you think,” I say, kissing her forehead. “But there is one question I couldn’t figure out.”

“What is it?”

“You’re a sexy-as-sin celebrity. Why did you need to hire male prostitutes?”

Cash groans and buries her head in her hands. “This is much more embarrassing than knowing most of America has seen my tits getting whipped.”

I pull her hands from her face before cupping her cheeks and looking deep into her eyes. “Never be embarrassed around me. I want to know all of you, including the parts you want to keep hidden.”

I wipe away the lone tear that springs from her eye and offer a gentle smile. Cash nods and takes a deep breath but says nothing. We sit, eyes locked, letting the silence of the morning cocoon us.

I want to demand her emotions and have her confess her hidden secrets without hesitation. But life doesn’t work that way. We don’t get what we want simply by closing our eyes and wishing with all our might. I learned that lesson at a young age before I stepped foot into a school.

So, against my better nature, I hold her and move at her speed.

Cash’s chest distracts me as she takes a deep breath, and her perfect tits rise and fall. “I don’t trust men. Things always get complicated if you take a random guy home after a show. Remember Lucy Maties, the rock star? She left a show with a random groupie, and a bellhop found her in a dumpster the next day, chopped up into pieces.”

I laugh, lacing our fingers and easing into my place with her at my side. “Not sure if I should feel flattered or insulted that you don’t think I’m dangerous enough. I should’ve picked you up on the Harley. Chicks dig the bike.”

She bats her long, dark eyelashes at me before lightly punching my arm. “Murder isn’t funny.”

“Of course not. I’m not laughing at what happened to that poor woman. I find it interesting that you’re here with a man you hardly know but assume that all your male fans are potential murderers.”

Cash abruptly pulls away from me, a coy smile on her full lips. Her hand clasps the door. “Gunner, I reckon you’re absolutely right.”

“What are you doing, Cash?”

“I’ve made a terrible mistake. Being here in the middle of nowhere with a strange man. You can do all kinds of horrible things to me. I’m just a naïve little girl. A powerful man like you can take control of my body so easily. Take what you want and ignore all my cries for help.”

Oh, the little minx. Cash is deflecting conversation by offering me herself on a platter. If I were a stronger man, I could resist and force her to get naked without removing a single piece of clothing. But right now, my brain’s shut down, and I can only contemplate with my dick. So, instead of shutting down her little game, I do what any red-blooded man would do. I play along.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to run when confronted with a wild animal?”

She opens the car door and walks backward in the direction of the lush trees of the forest. “Yes. Back away slowly.”

“When I catch you, Sparrow, I’m going to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to think straight for a week.”

She smiles. “Only a week? Well, that’s disappointing.”

“Hope you like red because that’s all you’ll see when you face the mirror and look at your skin.”

“Gotta catch me first!” she yells before disappearing into the woods.

Chapter 6

Cash

My body is on autopilot. My feet hit the forest floor like I’m running from a madman, and I feel alive. I’ve never fucked in the woods before. It’s always been a no-go with the label and Pete. The risk of someone following me and publicizing it all was too great. It probably still is, but I don’t care. Right now, all I can think about is how fucking fantastic it will be to get fucked like a piece of meat. Guess the location is fitting to be fucked like an animal.

I turn my head, but I don’t see Gunner behind me. Disappointment racks my mind. Perhaps he’s driven off. Guess I shouldn’t be so shocked. During our first genuine conversation, I told him I wanted him to pretend to rape me.

I fill my lungs with fresh air, walking among the pretty trees, when I hit a hard, warm body.

Gunner.

My heart accelerates from the rush of being near Gunner and the anticipation of what he’ll do to me.

Gunner steps up to me, closing the small space between us. He leans his head forward, his hot breath on the delicate part of my ear. He doesn’t say a word. The only sound from his lips is a visceral growl that sends a chill along my spine. I step back, and he moves forward.