Chapter Five

A ll night long, Livia nursed the small throb of pain in her chest that Wolfe put there with his words.

It's for your own good.

He might have spoken them, but they didn't have the same meaning as when her father said them.

"Why can't I come to the bar with you? I'll be good. I won't give you or the bartenders any trouble."

"It's for your own good."

That was one exchange between them that she kind of understood. A bar was no place for a young girl. But the next had an undercurrent of meaning behind it that was much, much harder to understand.

"Why can't I go out with my friends?"

"It's for your own good."

It was never for her own good—it was for his . So he could go on working and drinking himself into a nightly stupor. So he could take those women into the back room and have his way with them—the reason her mother had finally given up.

Wolfe couldn't know any of this when he poked her with the sharp edges of that phrase.

She took a deep breath and then closed out the payroll spreadsheet she'd been trying to work on for hours to no avail. She couldn't concentrate.

Her mind was overloaded from that attack on her friend, the man she'd shot, the break-in at her bar and all the destroyed property that would affect her bottom line for the month.

Not to mention things that needed done in Badlands and the distillery too.

Great—that brought Wolfe to mind again. What he told her about her rum…was probably right. Not that she'd tell him that. Let him run a distillery and see for himself that getting the product out into the world was the fastest path to money in the bank.

Still, his rudeness rankled her.

She pushed away from the desk and walked out into the bar.

The noise level was at a high, bordering on the tipping point where they'd start receiving noise complaints.

Her waitresses were bustling through the crowd, serving drinks. Two bartenders poured them as fast as they could manage.

And Wolfe stood at the front of the room, his back to the wall…and his heavy stare fixed on her.

A thrill she didn't want to experience tore through her. Lifting her jaw, she started toward him. His eyes registered the challenge she sent him.

She strode right past him. To the door.

Rule number one—no leaving without him.

Watch me, big guy.

Without so much as a backward glance, she whipped open the door and walked out into the night.

The cool mountain air cut through some of the fog in her brain.

She hadn't taken a single step before Wolfe blocked her.

"Maybe you didn't hear me, Livia. Or you didn't understand me when I told you not to leave without me."

The big overhead lights in the parking lot carved shadows over his chiseled features, making them even more rugged than they already were.

She squared her shoulders. "What are you gonna do? You gonna spank me, Commando?"

"For the first and last time…I am a SEAL. And actually, the spanking is a great idea."

Her jaw dropped. When he yanked her off her feet, a scream tore from her lips. She struggled against his hard body.

Oh god, it was sooo hard.

"Let me go! What the hell are you doing?"

In long, purposeful strides, he carried her around the side of the building to the alley and planted her on her feet.

She took off—but he grabbed her by the shoulders, whipped her around to face the wall of Badlands and trapped her.

She twisted and turned in his grasp, fighting to escape. His hot breath washed over her neck, and his muscled torso anchored her against the wall.

"I'm going to scream!"

"Go ahead. It won't stop me from doing this." He brought his hand down on her ass cheek. Hard. The sting tore through her. Shock tore through her.

Desire tore through her.

Her chest heaved.

When he took her by the shoulders and turned her around to face him, his features were stony, giving her no indication of what he thought of his behavior toward her.

As she struggled for air, her chest heaved again, dragging her hardened nipples an inch up his granite chest…and down again when she released it.

God, the want building inside her. The feel of his hand on her ass…was so forbidden. So…

Exciting.

She planted a hand on his chest and twisted his shirt. "Game on."

She went on tiptoe and kissed him.

* * * * *

Fuck. Carver's dick stiffened at the crush of Livia's body against his. He was already half hard when he laid his hand across her ass…but the feel of her lips sent his body into hyperdrive.

He shouldn't be surprised that testing Livia brought out a reaction like this in her.

Next time he'd spank her bare ass.

He applied pressure to her plump lips. She pushed closer for more.

With a primal groan, he swiped his tongue across her closed lips. When she gasped, he went deeper, plunging his tongue inside her sweet mouth. Christ, she tasted like hops and woman—a striking and unexpected combination.

The tip of her tongue passed over his. They shared a moan.

He tore from the kiss long enough to say, "Game fucking on."

Bracing a hand on the wall, he latched on to her hip, yanking her in. Each pass of their tongues drove him higher. Hell, he could easily lose himself in her.

He couldn't let that happen. He had a job to do, and that was to protect her. Whether she believed it or not, she put herself in danger the instant she pulled that trigger.

As her palms landed on his spine, he felt the light stab of her fingernails. Fuck yeah. He had no doubt she'd be a little hellion between the sheets. Much more of this kiss and he'd find out.

Tearing from the kiss, he skimmed his mouth down her delicate jaw to her throat. Was it terrible of him to want to mark her with the scrape of his rough beard stubble while pounding his cock into her tight pussy?

Skating his hand up her side, he curled his fingers around her breast. Her quiet moan filtered into his psyche and plucked at the threads of his control.

When he closed his fingers around the tiny bud of her nipple, she rocked her hips into him. Digging her fingers into his scalp, she brought his head up. Their gazes locked and held.

He saw the instant she realized what they were doing. The lights in her sapphire eyes flickered out.

She dropped her hands. "I need to get back in there."

He closed his eyes for a moment, battling to get a grip. Was this how it had been for Colton and Hunter when they found their match in women? He didn't know Meadow and Ivy well at all, but could guess that the women who snagged the hearts of his men had cores of steel.

So did this petite redhead who'd just kissed him first.

Kissed him like it was her last day on earth.

He didn't push away from her but stared down at the storm clouds banking in her eyes as she threw up her walls again.

Walls he could rip down again and again if he had a mind to.

He didn't earn his nickname by being soft. He hunted. He prowled. He got what he wanted.

Right this second, he wanted Livia.

"What do you need to do inside? You were so eager to come out, defying my rules."

Her dimple popped out whenever she was angry. It appeared and then smoothed away as she searched his eyes.

She lowered her stare to his chest. "I…need to finish out the night."

"I'll walk you." Still, he hovered over her, unwilling to move away when her lips were so close, so ripe for the taking.

When he took a step back, she didn't move, but she spread her hands on the building as if she needed to steady herself.

Was she as fucking dazed by that kiss as he was? His eyes hooded as he trailed his gaze over her stunned expression, down to her lips that were swollen from his kisses.

He hadn't gone easy on her, and he wouldn't. That wasn't his way. If he had to guess, Livia didn't want a gentle lover either. She wanted someone she could fight and bite and fuck and orgasm with until dawn broke the sky.

In silence, he walked her back to the door of Badlands. She slipped inside and walked away from him without a backward glance…but he did note how her demeanor had changed since he laid the flat of his palm on her rounded ass.

She returned to her post behind the bar and started slinging drinks immediately. Carver took up his position at the entrance and fought the impulse to grab her and carry her outside for round two.

The rest of the night went off without a hitch. No fights broke out. He didn't need to toss anyone out or ban them from ever stepping foot in Badlands again.

Livia closed down the bar and said goodbye to one waitress. When the other server, Emory, hung back, Livia looked up from removing the cash from the till.

Emory stepped up to her. Carver couldn't make out the words she spoke, but her bowed head and slumped shoulders gave away that something was wrong.

He shut out the low strain of music still playing in the jukebox in the back of the bar in an attempt to hear what they were saying.

Livia stepped up to Emory and drew her into her arms. Emory's thin frame seemed to shake. They only held on for a second before they broke apart.

Then Livia reached into the front pocket of her own apron and pulled out a wad of cash—her own tips from the night of hard work she put in as much as the rest of her staff did. Without bothering to count it, she stuffed the money into Emory's apron.

Whatever she said to the server, he couldn't hear, but she nodded. Then she turned away from Livia to leave. As she passed Carver, he gave her a nod.

She shot him a polite smile before leaving Badlands.

Just to ensure that she made it to her car safe, he watched her cross the parking lot. At least she had the good sense to park under a light.

"Did she make it okay?"

He turned to face Livia. "Yes. What the hell was that, Livia?"

"It was nothing." She swung away from him, but he caught her arm and drew her close.

"What do you say we start being open with each other and you tell me what that was all about?"

"Sure. You go first." She tipped her chin in that cute little show of defiance that made him want to kiss her until she was soaking wet for him.

Hell. He hadn't thought about his words before blurting them out.

"That's not how this works. You first."

"Oh, is this another rule of yours?"

"Liv-i-a." Her name rolled off his tongue as a warning, but he heard the gravel of need in his voice.

"Wo-l-fe." She dragged his last name out with an attitude.

"Cute."

She narrowed her eyes. "Mean."

"If I'm going to protect you, I need to know everything that goes on."

"Fine," she bit off. "Emory is between places to stay right now."

He straightened. "She's homeless?"

"I guess you could call it that. Sometimes I let her sleep on the couch in my office. But since the break-in, I didn't feel comfortable with that. So I gave her my tip money for a motel."

Jesus. This woman would go to great lengths to help anyone. Anyone but herself.

As soon as he could talk to Colton and Hunter, he'd see what they could do about getting the server a safe place of her own. He had no issue with withdrawing money from his savings, and if the guys couldn't pitch in, then he could still swing it until Emory got on her feet.

"For the record, mean women don't go around giving their employees money for places to stay."

Livia issued a small noise that sounded like a huff and circled past him. A minute later, she returned carrying her purse.

During the car ride to her place, she was super quiet.

Had he pushed her too far? Sure, she kissed him first, but he'd taken it two steps farther. He also pushed her to recognize her own strengths and weaknesses—something he suspected she wasn't comfortable with. Though she was a smart, savvy businesswoman, Livia hid behind her walls.

He'd guess that few people—if any—knew the true Livia. She'd spent her entire life being strong, taking care of others.

When they reached her house, he anticipated that she wouldn't wait for him to scope out her house, so he walked to her door and reached out a hand for her.

To his deep pleasure, she slipped it into his.

Inside, she remained silent while he searched every corner of the house where somebody could hide. Last time, he never saw the cat. Now he was on the lookout for the white ball of fluff that so irritatingly shared her fur with him.

When he woke up on the couch with a cat on his chest, he hadn't been in the best of moods. Add in all that fur clinging to his chest, neck and arms and he was ready to send Livia's pet on a nice little trip to the closest alley. Only the certainty of Livia's displeasure kept him from opening the door and shooing Angel out into the night.

Livia's routine was the same as before. She kicked off her boots and went straight to the shower.

That left Carver pacing the cramped living room with a bad case of blue balls.

After the water switched off, he waited for her to emerge from her room, but the door remained shut. He fixed his makeshift bed on the couch, shucked off his boots and shirt and stretched out the best he could on the short sofa.

He lay there with his arms propped beneath his head, listening to the sounds of the house. An hour ticked by. Still, his body couldn't let go of those kisses they shared…or the feel of Livia's curves under his hands.

Then he caught another noise. The click of Livia's bedroom door opening.

Soft footsteps moving to the kitchen brought a smile to his face.

So they were going to play this game?

When he trailed into the kitchen after her, she was bent over, looking in the fridge. Wearing the shortest nightie he'd ever seen…

And his handprint on her ass.