Oh God. He really did want more from me. But…

“No, I can’t. It’s too much, too soon.”

His eyes focused on me with determination. “The fuck you can’t.”

As usual, Cowboy didn’t like to be told no. He pounded into me harder, groaning and panting, as he clearly struggled for control. He caught my mouth, letting his tongue roll against mine in time with his thrusts before giving me a sharp nip on my bottom lip. “Tell me who you belong to,” he said, rocking into me once again.

“You,” I whispered.

“Still don’t sound too sure. Maybe you need more convincing.” He gripped my buttocks to rock into me with more force than before.

The exquisite angle had him hitting a toe-curling sweet spot, and I whimpered into his neck. “I’m yours,” I gasped, reveling in the sensations he created. He was so far inside me, I’d almost swear his knees were hitting the wall beneath me.

“Say it again,” he demanded.

My teeth chattered at the sheer power of his body stroking into mine as I surrendered to the emotions swirling inside me. “I’m yours, damn it! All yours,” I cried out, digging my fingernails into his back as I blinked back unshed tears.

And just like that, the shuddering orgasm ripped through me. Trembling and convulsing, my inner muscles clamped down on him. He groaned in pleasure as he neared completion. Finally, he let himself go.

After a moment, he withdrew slowly and slid me down him until my feet touched the floor. My legs were limp, barely capable of holding my weight. Apparently, he was a little shaky himself because he planted one hand firmly against the wall next to my head to hold himself up. We stood like that for several minutes, breathing heavily and staring into each other’s eyes.

It was only then I understood what he’d been doing. Cowboy had claimed me. Mind, body, and soul. His.

Chapter Seventeen

After work, I went straight home.

All day, I’d floated on cloud nine, reminiscing about how Cowboy had exquisitely tortured my body and left me deliciously sore from last night’s marathon-inspired sexcapade. I had even worn a huge, stupid grin on my face, one I couldn’t seem to wipe away.

But walking back into my home and seeing the wall Cowboy had taken me against earlier that morning ruined my good mood, and my euphoric state dissipated. Battling my emotions, I had to consider the previous night had been nothing more than one giant mistake on my part.

I’d yielded to my own feelings, allowing myself to fall even more for him, yet he didn’t know I was leaving town. Or that by being with me, he was consequently putting a target on his back. But telling him that meant telling him everything, and I didn’t know if I was prepared to do so.

As I tossed my keys onto the counter, I noticed the stack of forgotten mail I’d placed there earlier in the day. Glancing at the clock, I sighed. Cowboy had said he’d stop by, but wouldn’t be off work for another hour. Plenty of time to sort out the junk mail and take a shower before he arrived.

But as I sifted through the mail, I stumbled upon an official-looking envelope addressed from the Gib Lewis Unit Prison & Correctional Facility in Woodsville, Texas. My stomach churned, twisting with dread, as my shaky hands tore open the envelope and extracted the crisp letter inside. My fingers trembled as I unfolded it.

Dear Ms. Weber,

I have been notified by the Texas Department of Criminal Justice that the Victim Services Program has been unable to reach you using the Vine phone notification system. Therefore, I am sending this notice to your last known address, in hopes it will reach you at a forwarded address. This information is in reference to Stuart Nelson, prisoner no. 1018040.

The parole board originally determined the prisoner’s earliest possible release would be August 22nd of this year, but due to overpopulation, the prisoner’s lack of previous criminal record, and the model behavior he has displayed while incarcerated, the parole board has since moved his release day to March 1st.

Should you have any questions or concerns regarding this matter, please let me know or contact your local law enforcement agency.

Sincerely,

John P. Ellington

Warden, Gib Lewis Unit

Jesus. He was released early? I glanced at the desktop calendar, noting Stuart Nelson had been released from prison…two weeks ago? Oh God!

Instantly I recalled what Cowboy’s friend, Junior, had said about the man I’d seen standing on the edge of my property. Had to be someone else.

Then I remembered the stack of threatening notes I’d received. That whole time, I’d thought the Barlow boys sent them. But what if…?

Lightheaded, I swayed on my feet. Fear and adrenaline shot through my veins, and my heart flopped around inside my chest like a dying fish. I reached over and twisted the deadbolt to lock the door. “I’m safe,” I reminded myself out loud. “He couldn’t have found me that fast. It’s not possible.”

But who was I kidding? It only took him a week to find me before, which also happened to be the last time I ever saw my moth—

The letter fell from my hands, landing on the counter. It was him. He’d been watching me, not the Barlows, not Junior. It was just like last time.

Panicking, I sprinted to my bedroom and yanked my large suitcase out of the closet, tossing it open on the bed. Returning to the closet, I ripped my clothes from their hangers until I had an armful, then raced back to the bed to stuff them inside the luggage.

I ran to the living room, extracting things from drawers, grabbing my research files, and sifting through personal items. Only grabbing what I absolutely had to have, I carried them all to the suitcase and placed them inside.

Next I went for the drawers, pulling them out of the dresser completely and holding them upside down to dump the contents of each into my suitcase. My undergarments spilled out, only half of them actually landing in the suitcase. The rest had fallen every which way and some even ended up on the floor. But I didn’t have time to stop and pick them up. I closed the lid and zipped it up.

Reaching under the bed, I slid out a small black tote and threw the strap over my shoulder. The new identity inside would get me out of the country and the cash I’d stockpiled would keep me on the move until I found a good place to hide. I lifted the suitcase from the bed and headed to the kitchen, where my keys still sat on the counter. Just as I reached for them, a knock sounded at the door. My heart stopped and my stomach dropped. Setting my bags down quietly, I tiptoed to the door and peered out through the peephole.

Oh, no.

Cowboy stood on the other side of the door with a smile on his face. My body surged with guilt and remorse. I hadn’t planned to tell anyone—including him—I was leaving. Not even when my six months were up, and certainly not now when my time had run out early.

After a few moments, his smiled disappeared and he knocked again. Harder this time. I couldn’t pretend like I wasn’t home. Surely, he had noticed my car in the driveway. But I couldn’t bring myself to open the door, either, even when he banged on it a third time.

“Anna, I know you’re in there. I can hear you breathing.”

Figures.

I lowered my head, thunking it against the door as I let out a slow calming breath. All the running around I’d done had put my respirations in overdrive, and even though I was only softly panting, apparently it was audible. But I needed to get it under control if I were to face Cowboy without alarming him. I held my head up high, pushed a loose strand of my hair out of my eyes, and opened the door a few inches.