Chapter 1
As Rox Forrester stared down at the guy who was lying on his unmade bed, he had one foot resting on a chair, his upper body leaning forward, and his arm resting on his thigh, waiting for him to wake up. With a resentful, cutting gaze, he noticed that the dude’s clothes were of the latest style, expensive, and they looked good on him. His hair was dark and a little disheveled from being knocked cold, dragged, and hoisted up on the bed. His jaw was shadowed with a light beard that gave him the look of a richly clad vampire. His lips were full and appealing, slightly colored, and shiny, as if he was wearing lip gloss. His body seemed strong, agile, and well fed. His eyes were a mystery since they were closed, but he guessed them to be as black as midnight—like his soul.
He knew when Rich Boy woke up, he wasn’t going to be too happy, but, hell, what did he care? He was about to go and tell Daddy everything, and then they would’ve brought the police out here and scooted him off the land. He was lucky he didn’t whip out his Magnum revolver and shoot the hell out of him. Instead, he almost knocked his damned head off with a beer bottle. He was sorry he’d done it, but not for the usual reasons. He was just sorry that it was a damned waste of a full bottle of good Budweiser.
Just then Rich Boy opened his eyes, and after grimacing at the pain, he asked with a groggy voice, “What the hell happened?”
“You tried to fool with the wrong guy, that’s all,” Rox said, sounding tough.
“You hit me! Why the hell did you do that?”
“Why?” Rox said, roughly throwing the chair aside. “You have to ask why? You were going back to tell your lies to dear old Daddy and the police. What the hell did you expect me to do?”
Just then Rich Boy suddenly lunged at him, and as quick as lightning, Rox lunged back. With a single hand, he pushed him on his chest, and Rich Boy fell backward, still weak from the blow.
“Don’t make me hit you again, rich boy,” Rox said with a clenched fist. “The next time you might not come out of it.”
* * * *
Dezi looked up at him. Suddenly the trailer trash looked big. Too big to handle. With his strong, shapely legs spread wide in a no-nonsense stance, he looked tough and sexy. “Why, you trailer trash, I ought to skin the hide right off your bones.”
“Trailer trash, am I?” Rox said. “I’d watch my words if I were you, rich boy.”
“My name is Dezi Falconi, not ‘rich boy’!”
“And mine is Rox Forrester, not ‘trailer trash’!”
“Well, Rox, I’d start packing my bags if I were you. You’re goin’ to jail.”
“Am I?” Rox said as he straightened himself up to his full height. “By you and what army?”
Dezi’s eyes couldn’t help but rake along his body, stopping at his crotch that bulged with the promise of a hot and unforgettable f**k. And Dezi was so hungry he could feel his c**k getting bigger and bigger at the sizzling thought of a night with this trailer trash. Dezi’s gaze reluctantly left his crotch and looked up into his face. He had a head full of hair that was tousled from the wind, making him look tough and virile. It was light, long, and bleached blond by the sun, and he had an athletic build. A deep tan told him he spent a lot of time outside, his chiseled jaw had a five o’clock shadow, and his eyes were an amazing sea-green. His lips were full, but they were unsmiling.
If only I could get him to smile. What a picture he would be.
When the trailer trash spoke, his voice was throaty and sultry, but when he was upset, it was thunderous. What would the trailer trash do if he told his dad? He’d go, all right, but all of a sudden Dezi didn’t like that idea too much because if he did, Dezi would never see him again. So why did he have to leave? He didn’t have to tell his dad that Rox was here. If he played his cards right, Rox could be his little secret—his dirty little secret.
“Say,” Dezi said, “on second thought, maybe I’ve been too hasty.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s no skin off my nose if you stay here. My father’s, either. You haven’t done any damage to the property. The trailer is kind of an eyesore, but you could fix it up.”
Rox stared at him. “What are you saying, rich boy?”
“I’d even help you fix it up. In fact, if things work out the way I want them to, I could even pay you.”
“Pay me? For what?”
Dezi stared at him for a moment, his eyes taking on a lazy, sultry gaze as he slid them down his body, and then up again, stopping at his flesh-colored lips that he was dying to taste.
Rox had seen that look before, and hesitated for a moment “Why, you bastard. Are you propositioning me?”
“Why not?” Dezi said, looking at him as if he were dirt. “It’s not as if you couldn’t use the money. You’re trailer trash, aren’t you?”