Page 12 of Trig
“Trig!” I said, trying to pop back up. His arm around my waist held me in place.
“This is us gettin’ to know each other,” he murmured.
I squirmed, but felt his hard length against my hip and then stilled. God, he was huge! That… fits in a woman? It was like an anaconda!
“My family’s heard all about you,” he said. “They want to meet you.”
I stilled. “Your… your family? Meet me?” It was hard not to squeak as panic filled me.
“I’ve got seven brothers and a sister. My parents live in the main house here on the family land, but we all have our own places on the ranch or in town. I mentioned you in a group text that you’re here and word spread.”
Oh my God. “Eightsiblings?”
He laughed. “It was love at first sight for my parents. You got any brothers and sisters?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Only child.”
He had ten family members who might know who I was, or worse, who my father was. Who Conrad Trout was. “Wait. You told them about me? Why would you do that?”
Trig huffed. “I did. Because you’re special and because you’re mine and I wanted them to know.”
There was that word again.Mine.
I was supposed to be Mr. Trout’s possession. Hisfuck toyas he’d called me.Broodmarealso came up.
Except with Trig, I didn’t want to hurl at the thought of being with him. I actuallylikedthe way he said it so possessively. I liked sitting in his lap. I liked feeling how attracted he was to me.
There was a little flame of desire that really, really wanted Trig to claim me. Make me his. Keep me. Protect me.
“Are they, um, coming over?” I asked. Was I really safe? What if the group text went further than the Wilder family? If word got back to Father, could he get here in the storm to get me? Not right away. Right? But he would come, no question. Drag me back.
“Not right now. They know I want you to myself for a bit.”
Glancing out the window, I saw the falling snow. I sagged against him. I really was safe, for now. As long as he and his family didn’t know who I really was, I’d be okay.
As long as I left as soon as the weather lifted, they’d be safe.
Trig reached out, grabbed my plate and slid it in front of us. Handed me my fork. “Eat.”
I stared at him. This close, I saw chocolate flecks in his dark eyes. The way they dropped to my lips.
I really was hungry. I couldn’t leave. If Trig wanted to harm me, he’d have done it by now. Hell, he’d have left me for dead in a snowbank.
I gave one last wriggle to get off his lap, then gave up. With a huff, I took the fork and took a big bite.
“Good girl.”
Good girl.
I’d never once had anyone say that to me before. Not the few memories I had with Father when I was a kid. Definitely not my mom.
I stilled and felt the warmth of the praise seep into me. And make my cheeks heat.
“You like that? Being my good girl?” he murmured, noticing.
Did I? Yes, I sure as hell did. I pleased him, even with something so trivial.
Why should I want to do that? I tried for years and years to please Father and it had never worked. I’d used his plane ticket and come to Devil’s Ditch hoping for his praise and affection.
