CHAPTER / IMANI

Desperately, I threw myself up the porch stairs, tripping, righting myself, slamming against the door. I pounded on it frantically.

“Help!” I swallowed hard. “Let me in. Mutant Bigfoot wolf is going to eat me!”

Heavy footsteps approached the door, and I heard locks and bolts being opened on the other side. A moment later, someone yanked the door open. I stumbled forward before a pair of hands gripped my forearms and righted me.

With lungs burning, I tilted my head back to look into the man’s eyes.

He wasn’t handsome, but he had a face that was hard to look away from. With short
black hair, he possessed rough, masculine features. Inky black brows slashed
over piercing, sky-blue eyes.

He continued to stare down at me as though he were memorizing every line and
contour of my face.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the only thing that came out was a high-pitched squeak.

He sniffed. His eyes narrowed.

Oh God. He thinks I stink.

Embarrassed, I pulled away from him and launched myself onto the closest thing inside—a brown saddle-leather couch.

Inside, the space was so warm it made my chilled skin sting. I panned my eyes around the bright area. The far side of this room had a full, large kitchen. On the
north side was a larger dining room area, where a long table, overhung by an
antler chandelier, seated a group of men the size of linebackers, who were now
staring at me as if they’d discovered a new species and didn’t know if I was
dangerous.

A heavy silence descended on the room, and the only thing missing was the loud
chirp of crickets.

My heart battered against the wall of my chest. Shit. And they’re massive, like they could lift a damn truck.

They were all scowling, and each strong-featured man wore a long-sleeved button-up work shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots, tanned as if they spent lots of time
outdoors rounding up cattle.

I swallowed hard. Sweat coated my clammy hands and prickled under my arms. Oh God. Did I jump out of the frying pan into the fire?

My breath quickened, going into panic mode.

Are they a cult of crazy cowboys?

I’d watched enough horror movies to know that a lone female surrounded by big,
strange, angry men never had a happy ending. And given their heavily muscled
bodies, they could subdue me easily—well, not that easily because I’d give them
one hell of a fight and crush some nuts while I was at it. They could kill me and bury me in the backyard or violate me in several unmentionable ways, and
then…

Someone cleared his throat loudly. It was the guy who had opened the door for me. His lips were in a line—neither a smile nor a scowl. Our eyes locked, and my
exhaustion and fear faded into the background.

Shit, he’s big, scary, and oddly sexy.

He seemed bigger than the others around the table. He was a wall of muscle in a
dark blue button-up work shirt rolled to his elbows, heavily broken-in jeans,
and cowboy boots. His entire body was one sheet of pure, rippling muscle, and
he had to be at least six seven.

There was an oddly uncharacteristic butterfly feeling in the pit of my stomach as I considered him from head to toe and back again, which took me a while. He wasn’t my type, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him. An image of me on all fours with him fucking me from behind flashed through my head and made my pussy pulse with need.

Where the hell did that come from?

Mr. Big’s nose twitched. He tilted his head to the side as if he were examining a
scientific experiment gone horribly wrong. My stomach plummeted. Or maybe he
was trying to figure out how many black garbage bags he’d need when he and his
cult of cowboys got ready to kill me by chopping up my body.

Shit! Way to go, Imani.

Why couldn’t I just be happy with my abysmal life in New York?

If I’d never left, I sure as hell wouldn’t have gotten chased down by Bigfoot wolf or
be minutes away from being killed in some random man’s house by a cult of cowboys.

I inhaled a slow, deep breath and struggled not to make it obvious that I hovered on the brink of hyperventilating.

“Calm down, female,” Mr. Big demanded. “You’re safe.”

I pointed at Mr. Big. “Don’t call me female. My name is Imani. And please close
the door. There’s a mutant Bigfoot wolf out there the size of an elephant!”

“Mutant Bigfoot wolf?” Mr. Big asked.

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