Big Bad John (Bigger in Texas Series) (12 page)

She frowned. “No one at all? Cousin in prison? Drunk uncle you only acknowledge at Christmas with a postcard?”

He sent her a look that he hoped told her she needed to stop this line of questioning before he spanked her in full view of the town. “No.”

“No? Just no? That’s it?” she pressed. “Were you hatched fully formed? No one is an island John. You must have some family.”

John could feel the tension tightening his shoulders. What was she trying to do? When he spoke it was through gritted teeth. “No family, Trudy. No one that was willing to claim me. I stayed with people, but they weren’t the kind of people anyone would call family. Not like yours.”

She blanched and he could see the apology in her expression. “You were in foster care?”

He crumpled his napkin in his fist. “Nothing that official. I told you. Sometimes I stayed with people, sometimes I didn’t. End of story.”

It was a story John had thought he’d forgotten. The kid who slipped through the cracks until he was too big and tall not to be noticed. Until he was useful.

Catching their waitress’s eye, he nodded and pulled out his wallet.

Trudy reached out to grab his hand. “I’m sorry. I just—I’m just trying to know more about you.”

He met her gaze. “If you don’t by now you never will. There’s no mystery to solve.
This
is who I am.” Who he’d always wanted to be.

“John I—”

A grating, familiar and completely unwelcome voice interrupted Trudy before she could respond.

“Well, that was quick. Back in town less than a week and you’re already looking for trouble?” Tommy stared pointedly at Trudy’s hand on John’s. “Sandy told us you and that hot chick from Hollywood were an item, but I can see you decided to try your luck with our local hero here. The barbecue king…at least he will be once your brother heads west to make a fool out of himself on the TV.”

Trudy was glaring, but she pulled her hand away from John’s as everyone—some subtly and some not—turned in their direction. “I don’t believe you were invited to the table, Tommy, but thanks for stopping by on your way out.”

The jackass laughed and whacked his hat against his hip. “Come on, Trudy, you and I go way back. Just because you’re an Internet sensation now, that’s no cause to be rude. I knew you when, girl. I was your lookout when you wanted to let Bobby Lane get to second base behind the bleachers without getting caught. Good times, remember? Why don’t you ditch this old giant and come out with me tonight? You can let me have another look at that cute flying bunn—”

John saw red. Before he knew what he was doing, his chair had been pushed back and he had Tommy up on his toes as he held him up by his collar.

“Boys.” The Reverend’s voice behind him broke through his rage. “I think everyone should go back to their corners now. People didn’t pay for ringside seats with their dinner.”

“Yeah.” Tommy pulled away, his chin lifting bravely as John lowered his hand.

Reverend Stein sighed. “Thomas Geise, I thought you were old enough for me to stop coming by your property to pray with your father on you finding your way. Sadly, I was mistaken. Go on home and tell him to expect me after dessert.”

When the idiot man-child seemed as if he might argue, John moved an inch closer, silently begging for a reason to beat him into the ground. Tommy scowled and turned to stomp out of the restaurant, and several people at the tables nearest the Reverend clapped in polite approval.

The waitress sent him an understanding grimace as she sped away with his credit card, and John shook Reverend Stein’s hand. “Sorry, sir.”

“Completely understandable.” Stein shook his head. “I can’t tell you how many times I thanked God I didn’t have the strength to do just that. But you might want to take Trudy home now, to save the rest of my flock from further sin.”

John nodded. “That was my plan.”

The waitress handed him his card and—without looking at her or speaking, because, what could he say?—he reached for Trudy’s hand and pulled her behind him and out the door to the parking lot.

“Wait a second.” Trudy yanked against his grip, though he didn’t stop until they were at the truck. “John, damn it, wait.”

John turned and walked toward her until her back was against the passenger door. “What, Trudy?”

She lifted her stubborn chin. “I could have handled Tommy. I work in the restaurant business, and before that I sang in some of the dingiest dives you can imagine. I can take care of myself.”

Did she want him to apologize for stopping Tommy’s insulting, innuendo-laced talk? He wouldn’t do it. No one was allowed to talk to her like that, not in front of him. Not and get away with it.

“Thank you.”

That got his attention. “What did you say?”

Trudy bit her lip, looking up at him with something soft and promising in her eyes. “You were upset with me but you still came to my rescue. And the look on Tommy’s face…well… Thank you.”

His lips quirked upward. “You’re welcome. Now that we’ve ruined dinner, what do you say we catch that show?”

Trudy’s look was skeptical. “There is no movie theater, and I doubt any actors would come to the school stage. Is the drive-in still open?”

He tugged her close to him as he opened the door, lifting her up by her hips until she was in the seat. He pulled the seatbelt over her delicious breasts, the back of his hand brushing her nipple before he spoke. “I said I was taking you to a show. I never said what kind. The drive-in is closed up now, but I can still get in if you’re interested. We can save that for another night.”

“Now I’m curious.”

“Good,” he murmured, leaning closer until he could feel her breath on his cheek. His hand dropped to her knee and slid up beneath her skirt. To touch her. Just to…

He groaned silently. No underwear. Good girl. “Curious is good.”

Begging would be even better.

Trudy had a hell of a time concentrating on where they were going during the half-hour drive. Though her thoughts were split between John’s revealing reactions to her questions and his politically incorrect—but damned arousing—defense of her at the table, her entire body responded eagerly to what his hand was doing between her legs.

He’d told her not to move, but it was harder to obey than she imagined it would be when his fingers were doing such wicked things to her clit, her sex.

When he turned onto the property and took one of the narrower gravel roads along the fence line that led to the old bunkhouse, she wanted to beg him to turn around and take her back to his bed instead. Only one day and it seemed like a lifetime since he’d held her. Taken her. But she didn’t. She was abiding by their agreement and letting him take the lead. Submitting the way she promised she would.

But she couldn’t deny her curiosity.

“Why are we here? I thought you were taking me to see a show.”

John parked and shut off the headlights. “I am. I’m willing to bet you that tonight will be a performance you won’t soon forget.” He patted her knee and opened his door, disappearing from the truck cab.

What on earth?

She unbuckled her seatbelt, and turned around to watch him open the truck box and rifle through it. When he pulled out the smooth, purple coils of nylon rope, she suspected she might be in trouble. She knew that rope, had handled others like it a hundred times. Had been bound with it.

It wasn’t meant for the ranch.

He held it wound around one hand, grabbing something else that was attached to clanking chains before gesturing to her with a bob of his head to join him.

She opened the door, studying him with a new, nervous excitement blooming inside her like a flower opening to the intense heat of the sun. “John?”

His smile was clearly meant to ease her nerves. “Trust me, Trudy. We won’t do anything you don’t want to do. And you know I know what I’m doing.”

She did. How many times had she read his profile with admiration and jealousy struggling for dominance inside her? He had experience—much more than she’d ever imagined. She didn’t want to think about with whom or how many he’d
gotten
that experience, but she did want to benefit from it. Wanted to experience what it would be like to be bound by him. Bound
to
him.

“Follow me.” John turned and walked into the tree line, his strides so long she had to jog to catch up to him. Thank goodness she hadn’t worn heels.

He stopped in a clearing big enough for them both to stand comfortably. The spot was shielded from view by branches, but barely. Trudy could see three windows through the wide gap, though only one was lit. Could see the old wooden log of a hitching post they hadn’t gotten rid of during the renovation outside the windows. Could see a blonde woman opening her curtains.

Glory.

Trudy looked over her shoulder at John and glared. “Did you bring me here to peep through Glory’s window?”

John pressed his cheek out with his tongue, as if considering. “Come over here and put your arms above your head first. Then I’ll tell you everything.”

He was standing next to a large oak tree that currently boasted some serious-looking suspension cuffs, which were connected to chains wrapped around one thick, low curving branch.

“You work fast.”

He shrugged. “I have the right incentive, and it won’t be long before the show starts. We need to get you ready.”

“Glory’s show? Does she know she’s giving one?” Instantly obedient despite her bluster, she walked over to John and put her arms up automatically. From here she could see the cuffs were attached to the tree with chains, and they were at the perfect height for her to reach.

She shivered when he drew her blue peasant blouse over her head, dropping it on the ground beside them before unhooking her bra. “You know you’re supposed to communicate with me, right? Tell me what you’re planning to do? Sane and consensual is right in there with safe. Playing Peeping Tom doesn’t feel consensual. I’m getting it’s got something to do with dangling me naked from this tree where anyone who looked in this direction could see…”

Her bra joined her blouse.

“She knows.” He was behind her, unzipping her skirt while he bent his head to nuzzle her neck. “I’m
planning
on getting these cuffs on you, binding you in a rope harness and doing all sorts of wicked things to your body while you watch Glory perform for her other audience. I can’t promise it won’t be more than just playing. Or that we won’t be delving into your darkest desires. Does that sound good to you?”

Oh God. He knew it did. “What other audience?”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” she sighed softly.

“Good girl.”

He buckled the cuffs onto her wrists, testing their tightness while she wrapped her fingers around the narrow bars attached to the thick leather. “Can you move your fingers?”

She wiggled them for him to see.

He kissed her cheek before bending to pick up the rope he’d set on the ground. “The other audience,” he answered. “The one she knows is there, that she performs for whenever she gets a new package like the one she received special delivery this morning. Manly and Diego.”

Trudy couldn’t help staring up at her wrists, the soft padded leather snug against her skin. It was…distracting. Manly
and
Diego watched her? And she knew? “How do
you
know any of this?”

“I’m the boss.” His tone was low as he unraveled the bundled rope. “It’s my business to know. Hell, I found Diego in the club in Dallas, found out he needed a job and hired him. Not much goes on here that gets past me. Jefferson and I both had a talk with Glory once we found out what was going on, and she is entirely aware of the situation. Enjoys it. None of them seem all that eager to take it beyond this, but they’re grown-ups and as long as they do their jobs, it’s none of my business.”

So Glory wanted them to watch her. Trudy knew some women like that in Los Angeles, women who didn’t want to be touched…only seen. “Are they aware she knows?”

John chuckled softly. “Diego is. I don’t think either one of them wants to destroy the thrill for Manly though. Not when he thinks he’s getting away with something.”

John slid a length of rope over her stomach and she shivered again, goose bumps rising already at the touch of one of her favorite things. Two—the rope and John.

“Look at her,” he ordered quietly. “Keep your eyes on the window.”

She watched Glory, currently dressed only in an obscenely short silk robe, placing something that looked very familiar on her bed. The bed that had been thoughtfully placed close to the window for full viewing potential. “She ordered a
Sybian
?”

It was basically an expensive makeshift saddle with an extremely powerful vibrator and clit stimulator attached. She’d seen images, heard stories from women who used them, but she’d never gotten one for herself.

“I’m not going to ask how you know about that because I’m aware of where you spend your time. I’m also aware of how damn beautiful you are, naked and cuffed and ready for me.”

His words were enhanced by the whisper of warm air on her bare thighs. Her breasts. There was something about being naked outside with John, combined with being bound by him—by
him
—that felt wicked and maybe a little romantic under the dark Texas sky. And what he was making her watch…

She moaned softly when he slipped the rope around her waist with expert efficiency before looping it up and over her shoulders to anchor it. The sensual slip and slide of the rope against her bare skin was making her wet already. When he began to build a body harness, sliding the silky rope between her thighs, her sex clenched with need.

God, what he was doing to her. She was already floating. Already thinking that her feet could leave the ground at any moment.

She was finding it more and more difficult to think, to focus on what he was saying. “But I would like to know if you’ve ever tried one.”

“No,” she gasped, loving the constriction of the rope and the absolute safety in being bound by him as he tested the tightness of the harness, tied off the knots. Damn, he was an artist at this.