Wrecked: A Bad Boy Outlaw Romance (with bonus novel!) Read online

  She pulls the blanket tight around her shoulders. “No hospitals. I’ll be fine.”

  “If it’s a matter of insurance…”

  “I’ll be fine,” she continues.

  The doctor, halfway to the grave himself, stuffs his hands into his pockets of his coat. “You’re going to need constant observation over the next forty-eight hours.” He looks to me. “I’m sorry. What relation are you?”

  Relation. Ha. We couldn’t be more different this girl and I. “No relation. I was simply in the right place at the right time.”

  Lux looks over her shoulder at me, eyes so blue and deep I could lose myself in them for all eternity. Maybe you should. Maybe it’s time.

  No, not yet.

  The doctor leans against the edge of his desk. “It’s Deacon, isn’t it? Deacon Hunt.”

  Finke has a population of precisely ninety-nine people. Everyone knows everyone. We’re regular visitors to the Doc, the reef providing a constant stream of injuries. “It is.”

  “Are you able to watch her, Deacon? She needs care and observation.”

  I look over her, the soft skin of her back. Observation—sounds like a dream come true.

  You can’t.

  I was planning a quiet weekend sinking beers and doing very little. Not babysitting Taylor Swift, though the thought of seeing more of her isn’t completely unappealing. “What do I need to do?”

  “Watch for any signs of breathing difficulty, confusion, slurred speech… anything out of the ordinary, really. If her condition starts to deteriorate, call Royal Hobart Hospital immediately. They can send a chopper out. Don’t wait.”

  I salute. “Yes, sir.”

  “This is not a laughing matter, Mr. Hunt.”

  Everyone is this town’s got it in for us, not that we haven’t given them reason. I nod.

  He’s not done. “You do understand the seriousness of the situation, don’t you?”

  That’s an understatement. “Hey, I saved her, didn’t I?”

  Got you. “You did, and you should be commended, but please, watch her carefully.” He passes his card across. “Call me if you need anything.”

  I snatch the card away and take Lux’s arm, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Come on. Where are you staying?”

  She’s trying to put on a brave face, but it’s clear she’s still a little fucked up, shaking like a leaf and weak.

  She looks up to me with those ocean-blue eyes. “The motel down the road.”

  I lead her to the door. “Not anymore.”

  *

  I place her bag down by the door while she surveys the lounge. “Wow, this place is impressive. How do you guys afford to live here?”

  I’d hardly call this run-down four-bedder impressive, but it’s been home for a year now. Home enough anyway.

  Razor pops his head up from the sofa, X-Box controller in hand. I’m glad it’s not something else. “What, we don’t look like we’re rich?”

  Lux backpedals. “No, I wasn’t saying—”

  Bo comes in from the kitchen with beer in hand, slaps Razor in the side of the head on his way through. “Don’t worry about this pin-dick. He hasn’t worked a day in his life. He wouldn’t even know what to do behind a desk.”

  I place my hand on the small of her back and let it sit there longer than it should. She smells incredible, like the ocean, but also fresh and floral. “Come on. I’ll show you to your room.”

  Razor lifts an eyebrow at that, Bo stopping to take a pull of his beer.

  I point at them. “I’ll fill you assholes in later.”

  I lead Lux to the guest bedroom down at the rear of the house overlooking the backyard and pool.

  She stands by the window. “You have a pool?”

  I lift her bag up onto the bed. “Only one in town. In summer the local kids jump the fence and use it every damn day. It’s too cold now, though.”

  She turns to face me, brushing a strand of glossy hair behind her ear. “Look, I want to thank you for what happened out there.” Her voice is weak, strained.

  I can’t help the asshole that takes over. He rises up and nothing I can do will quash him back down. “You shouldn’t have been out there, simple as that.”

  She nods, eyes downcast, hand rubbing her arm. I want so desperately to pull her into my arms, breathe in her hair, taste her lips, but no. It has to be like this.

  I knock the wall. “My room’s on the other side. Call out if you need anything. The bathroom’s down the hall, but we’re not exactly used to female company, so watch out. There’s food and drink in the fridge. Take whatever you want.”

  “Thank you,” she says, eyes finding me, the way she’s backlit by the window is fucking angelic. She looks just like… Forget it.

  “Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll check on you every half-hour, but you’re not dying on me, not after that.”

  She smiles. “Wasn’t planning on it. I’ve still got a wave to ride.”

  I lean against the doorframe and laugh. “You’ve got a death wish, but if you really want to ride Shipstern, maybe I can help. God knows why. But first, rest. Got it?”

  She salutes. “Got it.”

  I close the door quietly and press myself up against the back of it.

  Just admit it. You’re fucked.

  *

  She’s fast asleep when I return an hour later. She has the covers pulled up around her neck, her hair a golden mess fanned out on the pillow. Her lips are parted, her breathing shallow. I don’t know why, but I reach down and brush my thumb across her cheek. She’s so soft, so fragile. It’s been a while since I’ve seen beauty like this. Stunners don’t exactly arrive in Finke often. Ninety percent of the population is over sixty-five. Any teenagers wise up real fast. There’s fuck-all to do in these parts and they’re quick to head to Hobart. I don’t care. I like it this way. No women. No complications.

  I watch her sleep, the way air passes in and out of her lungs. I could slide under the covers, pull her to me. It’s been so long since I’ve had a warm body against mine, someone to hold. Maybe she’s what you need, my head repeats, cock twitching in agreement.

  Yeah, like a stick of TNT.

  But I know hooking up with Lux could only ever head in one direction. What am I going to tell her when she wants more? The truth?

  It wouldn’t work. It can’t.

  Pity.

  I lean over and kiss her on the forehead, don’t even know why the fuck I’m doing it. I used to do it to Bo and Razor when they were younger, play the parent. I’d cop a hard left if I tried it now. I mean, I love the pricks, but it hasn’t been easy.

  I speak to her prone form. “Sweet dreams, baby. Sweet dreams.”

  After that, I check on her every hour. I’m not big on sleeping anyhow.

  She barely moves. At times I have to kneel down and bring my ear to her lips to tell if she’s still breathing.

  Come sunrise I head out into the kitchen and start cooking. If it’s one thing that gets the boys out of bed, it’s eggs and bacon fried well beyond what any reasonable cook would allow.

  Razor’s the first out, scratching his nuts as he seats himself at the table, yawning. “How’s the guest?”

  I flip over an egg. “Sleeping like a baby.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t pull those covers back, take a complimentary peek.”

  I take the pan off the heat, flip the egg into the air with the spatula. Razor leans out with his plate, catching it before it hits the floor. “Fuck, man. What was that all about?”

  “No one’s taking a ‘complimentary peek’.”

  Razor picks up his knife and fork. “Fuck, protective much?”

  “It’s only been twenty-four hours. She’s not out of the woods yet.”

  He shoves a forkful of egg into his mouth. The guy eats like a fucking animal. “I know it’s hard given what happened with…”

  I point the spatula at him. “Shut your mouth. Right now.”

  He shr
ugs his shoulders. “Fine, fine. Hey, Bo and I were thinking about heading to the cove, see if we can catch something for dinner.”

  “The only things you dimwits are going to catch is a cold.”

  “And who made you the master fisherman, Captain Ahab?”

  He’s got a point. We’ve got a boat, we’ve got all the gear, but in the year since we’ve been here you could count the fish we’ve actually caught on one hand. There’s an old bastard down the road who I swear doesn’t even need a rod. Probably reaches into the ocean and pulls them out with his bare hand. “You two enjoy. I have to stay here with Goldilocks.”

  Razor winks. “Don’t let her see the big bad wolf you’re hiding in your pants. Wouldn’t want to scare her away now, would we?”

  I toss another egg in his direction. He’s not ready for this one. It hits him right in the face before dropping down to his plate, yolk sloppy. “Just eat your fucking egg.”

  *

  The boys head out. The place always seems so quiet when I’m alone. We managed to get it for something of a bargain, paid cash. The agent was pleased, didn’t press too hard on the background check, which worked in our favor.

  It’s far from the Taj Mahal. The roof’s got water damage in some of the rooms, the whole place needs painting, but it’s cozy enough—for now.

  I stand by the window and watch the ocean in the distance, can tell from here the swell is on the moderate side, the sets spaced out more than usual. It’s an art being able to read the water like this, a skill you can’t learn from a book or on the internet. Perhaps that’s what appeals to me most about surfing. You have to get out there to learn, get wet and physical. There are no shortcuts.

  I check on Lux twice during the morning, but she’s silently asleep. The second time the quilt’s been pushed down around her knees, her panties—Hello Kitty, of all things—soft against the peachy round of her ass.

  God, it’s been too long since I’ve seen this, seen an actual hot female. Pickings are slim around these parts. It’s not exactly ground zero for Miss World. I mean, hell, you go deeper into the bush and you can practically hear the banjos being plucked. This is remote Australia. In many ways it reminds me a lot of the deep south back home, the kind of place that attracts a certain darker element trying to get away from the greater world with its laws and morals and watchful eyes.

  Isn’t that why you are here?

  Maybe. I’ve done my best to make sure we’re as sheltered from the larger world as possible. We’ve got no internet connection, no cable. None of us have mobile phones, computers. There’s no need for any of that out here.

  I’m making a sandwich come early afternoon when I hear movement down the hall.

  “Lux?” I call out.

  No response.

  Shit.

  “Lux!”

  I run down to her room, burst in.

  She’s standing there trying to get her wetsuit on, arms behind herself tugging unsuccessfully at the zipper.

  I wedge my arm up into the corner of the doorway. “What the hell are you doing?”

  She turns around, her bare back exposed and the top of her buttocks on show. “Can you zip me up?”

  I come forward, try my very hardest to suppress the monster erection growing by the second. “I’m not helping you put that thing on. You’re supposed to rest. Doctor’s orders.”

  She turns, eyes lit by the sun streaming down from the skylight above us. “I’m going with or without you.”

  “You almost drowned and you want to go back out. Are you fucking nuts?”

  “Maybe I am.”

  I cross my arms. “If you want to surf Shipstern Bluff, and I mean really surf it, you’re going to need my help.”

  She turns around, arms folded like my own. “And?”

  “My services don’t come free.”

  She takes a step backwards. “What exactly are you implying here?”

  Fucking idiot. I put a hand up. “No, not that, Jesus, but if you want to learn, you’re going to follow my rules.”

  She shrugs. “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  That was easier than I thought. “Edict one, you are to take off that rubber right now.”

  “I want to get back in the water as soon as possible.”

  Fucking stubborn. I walk into the room, loom over her. “You still full of water? Listen to me. You practically died yesterday. Do you even comprehend that? You should be at the hospital right now.”

  She pushes her chest out, stands to her full height—still a good six inches below me. “What, are you going to stop me? Restrain me?”

  The thought of restraining her only makes my cock harder. “If I have to.”

  She rolls her eyes and walks forward. “Bullshit. Let me through.”

  I stand in the doorway. She bumps into my chest, shoves me. “Are you serious?”

  “You said you’d follow my rules.”

  She wags her finger in my face. “You’re an asshole.”

  “So you keep saying.”

  She walks back to the bed and sits down. “Okay, Mr. Alpha ‘I Do What I Want’ Standover Man, what are we going to do then, because I sure as shit don’t want to be sitting around here for days watching wallpaper peel.”

  I reach down and pick up her panties. They’re still warm in my hand. I can almost smell her on them, the peachy, vanilla scent of her sex. I toss them to her. “Put your clothes on. You’re going to get your fresh air, but it won’t be in the water.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  LUX

  We stand on the cliff line looking down at Shipstern Bluff, Deacon’s two brothers are out in the water carving it up. The swell has eased, but it’s still big out there.

  The arms of Deacon’s leather jacket flap in the wind, my hair swept up into a messy funnel behind me. I wrap my arms tighter around myself, tuck my chin into the top of the sweater I borrowed from him. It smells like him—musky and masculine, leather and salt. It smells like trouble.

  He points down to the break. “Notice how the end of the set closes out over the shallowest part of the reef. You don’t want to get caught in that.” He points to the left. “See there? There’s a pretty constant rip that runs out from the beach to the break. It’s handy, but don’t hang around in it too long unless you do want a free ride back to the States.”

  I peer down. “It looks so small from up here.”

  “Doesn’t everything from a position of stability?”

  Whoa there, Socrates. “I’m not buying your tough-guy act, by the way.”

  He turns to me, side-lit emerald eyes luminescent, jaw sharp and angular. “What makes you think it’s an act?”

  “I’ve met a lot of criminals in my time. You are not one of them.”

  He shakes his head, stuffing his hands deep into in his jacket pockets. “Let me see. You’ve known me all of a day, I fucking saved your life, and you’re still giving me shit?”

  “It was a compliment.”

  He huffs. “Some fucking compliment.”

  “So, you are a criminal? Not exactly a hot spot for criminal enterprise here, I’d say.”

  He looks back to me. “You’d be surprised what kind of scum and shit a hidden hole like this attracts.

  “You guys hiding from something.”

  “Of course we are.”

  I should press him on it, find out who I’m bunking up with here, but I’m already short on cash as it is. I don’t know what I expected—come here, surf the wave, go home. My head’s been such a mess since Dad died. I know one thing for sure, though. He would not approve.

  I mean, Deacon’s attractive. All three brothers are, in that so-bad-they’re-good kind of way with their ink and bulk, but they’re not the kind of guys I date—quiet, intelligent types.

  Admit it. You wouldn’t mind being taken by this guy, ‘fucked’ as they so ineloquently put it.

  I have no doubt he’d know what to do. He looks like the kind of man who’d pin you to the wall and pound you i
nto orgasm through sheer brute force.

  You could do with a good fucking like that, a sexual palate cleanser.

  Ah, no.

  I tell my head to shut up and watch the next set come through, Razor brutally heaved over the falls only to emerge a minute later bobbing cork-like well past the reef.

  I grow tense thinking of myself under all that water. While I’m putting on a tough-girl act myself, I don’t know if I can actually bring myself to go out there again.

  Deacon stands beside me, his scent stronger. I swear I can feel the heat of his body. He points into the distance. “Look, a whale and her calf.”

  I see a large, blue-grey body roll up out of the water, spray ejected high into the air, a small spray to the side from the baby.

  It is spectacular. “Wow. There’s something you don’t see every day.”

  Deacon looks to me. “Hang around here long enough, Hollywood, and you’ll see a great deal more than that.”

  *

  It’s frozen pizza and beer for dinner, the kind of meal only three bachelors would appreciate. We sit around a fire pit outside, the sky shifting from pastel to silky blue, pinpricks of stars fanning out in the darkness.

  “How do you feel?”

  Deacon’s shifted his chair closer to mine, beer between his hands, his five o-clock shadow obvious even in the dim light. “Good. Tired, but okay.”

  “You should rest, get your energy back.” For a moment I see genuine concern there, the façade dropping, the Wizard of Oz exposed.

  I stand up and brush myself off. “Best idea you’ve had all day.”

  I wave to the others. “See you guys in the morning.”

  They grunt a response, too hypnotized by the fire… or drunk. It’s hard to tell.

  Night falls in full and I retire to my room. Outside, a sudden shower has started, the humidity growing even more intense. I’m sweaty, hot and unable to pull myself away from the feeling of helplessness I felt under the weight of the water, visions of Deacon’s hand reaching down, the strength with which he pulled me towards the surface. I owe him my life.