Ruled (Outlaws #3)

“We’re getting our woman back,” Sloan snarled against Rylan’s lips.

“Damn right we are.” He bit at Sloan’s mouth, scraped his tongue and teeth along Sloan’s chin until the man was arching into his merciless grasp.

“Or die trying.”

Release came. Rylan shouted as Sloan bit into his shoulder. Their bodies shook and trembled as their climaxes filled their clenched fists. Then they both groaned and rolled onto their backs, chests heaving with each labored pant.

Rylan sucked in another breath. He wanted to say something, but the stinging in his eyes and the lump at the base of his throat held him back. He swallowed and tried again. This time when Sloan reached for his shoulder, it was a gesture of comfort. And he leaned into it.

He was in love with Reese.

He’d told himself he just wanted a good fuck with an amazing woman, but he’d been fooling only himself. He’d been half in love with Reese since the first moment he’d met her. If all he’d wanted was a good time, there were any number of beds he could’ve visited. But he’d stayed at Foxworth, leaving his friends behind, because Reese was the brightest star in the entire universe, and he was transfixed.

He rubbed a hand across the hollow space in his chest. “If I’d stayed away from her, I wouldn’t feel this way,” he admitted.

“Once you met her, you were sunk,” Sloan said quietly.

“So were you.”

“Yeah.” Sloan rose to his feet, then wiped his hand and abdomen off with his shirt and fumbled around in the pocket of his cargo pants. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

Settling back by Rylan’s side, Sloan took a drag and then passed over the cigarette.

Rylan inhaled for a puff and watched the smoke stream from between his teeth to mix with Sloan’s exhalations.

“I think I was just existing before I met Reese,” Sloan whispered. “Each foot I put in front of the other was leading me closer to her.” He traced a finger over Rylan’s collarbone.

“Destiny then?”

Sloan shrugged and plucked the smoke from Rylan’s lax fingers. “I don’t know what it is. I only know that I never felt complete until I met her. And even though she picked Jake”—he paused and slid a wry look toward Rylan—“and you, being the gun in her holster, the steel at her back, was all I needed.”

“That’s because you hadn’t tasted her, felt her.”

“Yeah . . .”

“And now?”

“You know the answer to that. It’s not enough. I want more.”

Rylan jerked. That was Reese’s word, and damned if he didn’t want the same thing. “Me too. Which is crazy, because I’ve always felt this more shit was pointless. I didn’t want anything deep. Definitely not a commitment. I didn’t look at Con and Hudson and think, I really want what they have. I just was happy joining in every now and then.” He grimaced. “And now I can’t stop my heart from banging double time and I can practically taste the terror on my tongue. I hate feeling this way. I fucking hate feeling.”

He didn’t want to be his dad. Or his mom, for that matter. He didn’t want to feel the kind of emotions that could twist him up inside, that could lead him to make decisions that would destroy everyone around him.

Sloan read his apprehensions easily. “Not all love is sick. Connor’s not gonna abuse Hudson. And Len would throw himself off a cliff before he’d hurt Jamie. And you are not your father’s son.”

“How do you know?” He stared at the beams in the ceiling. How could anyone know what kind of partner they’d be until they tried?

“Because I’m here to punch you in the face if I feel like you’re going off the deep end.”

The corners of Rylan’s mouth twitched. “That’s generous of you, brother.”

Sloan smiled. “I know.”

But this man’s presence was exactly what he needed. With Sloan there, Rylan could be himself without fear. He’d be able to love without worrying that it would turn rancid and hurt the people he was supposed to care about the most.

He’d be able to have Reese.

And Sloan.

And everything that he’d always believed was out of his reach.





26


Sitting in a cell gave a woman plenty of time to think about her life. The fact that she was facing execution only sped up that process, because Reese literally didn’t have much life left.

As Ferris had promised, there were no trays of food or bottles of water brought to her. She’d been abandoned, dismissed from their minds, not to be remembered until it was time to face the firing squad. Reese had started her imprisonment sitting in the chair, but after hours had passed, she’d finally admitted defeat and curled up on the small cot.