Wicked Need (The Wicked Horse Series Book 3) Read Online Free

was
going to. Made the U.S. Ski Team, but about a year prior to the start
of the Games, I took a bad fall at an event in San Sicario. Injured
my right knee pretty badly. Tore three of the four major ligaments in
my knee.”
    “They couldn’t
repair it before the Olympics started?” I ask, feeling terrible
he lost such an amazing opportunity.
    Rand shakes his head
and stands from the table. I get a flash of the golden skin covered
in coarse hair on his thigh with rippling muscle, and for the first
time, I notice scars on his right knee.
    “Wasn’t
the first time I injured that knee. I competed in the 2006 Games when
I was nineteen. Took a bad spill on my first run on the Super G.
Knocked me out completely. So I had surgery to repair the damage and
built myself up for the 2010 Games. Luckily, my knee held strong and
I picked up a few medals along the way.”
    I stand up from the
table as well, taking my plate and following Rand to the kitchen
sink. Before he can start to rinse his own, I take it from his hands
and say, “I’ll
clean up. You go get ready for work.”
    Our fingers touch as
he gives up the plate and I swear I can feel the touch down to my
toes. So innocent yet so powerful. When Rand turns toward his
bedroom, I can’t
help but ask, “You don’t seem all that bitter about
losing out on those opportunities.”
    He turns to me with
a wide grin. “Yeah,
well, I guess I choose to focus on the successes I had while I was
competing. And I always knew it was a fleeting career that could be
cut short at any time. It’s too dangerous and was bound to
happen anyway.”
    “Do you still
ski?” I ask, even more curious about this man.
    He nods. “Sure
I do… for pleasure only. And I don’t get crazy or
anything. You stick around when the snow starts falling and I’ll
take you out. You ski?”
    I shake my head.
“Never
been.”
    “Then we’ll
have to do it,” he says, and it almost makes me believe he
means that. As if he expects me to be sticking around long enough to
see the snow. Granted, the weather is getting colder and there have
even been some scattered flurries, so it won’t be long, but I
have no clue where I’ll be come wintertime.
    In fact, I know
absolutely nothing and it scares the shit out of me.
    “I don’t
even know your last name,” I murmur, pathetically aware that I
know Rand is an Olympic medalist, but I don’t know something as
intimate as his complete name. I’ve let this man fuck me and
I’ve sucked his cock, but I have no clue what his last name is.
That makes me feel small and filthy.
    “Bishop,”
he says softly, his head tilted to the side. “Rand Bishop. It’s
a pleasure to formally meet you, Cat Vaughn.”
    Shaking my head, I
correct him. “Lyons.”
    “Lyons?”
    “My maiden
name. It’s Lyons. I’d prefer not to have Samuel’s
last name attached to me anymore.”
    He nods with an
understanding smile. “Cat
Lyons. There’s a redundant name for you, right?”
    The small laugh that
pops out of my mouth is unbidden and feels strange. It makes me
realize I haven’t
had a genuine laugh in quite some time.
    Without another
word, Rand turns toward his bedroom and shuts the door behind him.
I’ve
seen him naked many times, but it doesn’t feel weird for him to
seek privacy to get dressed either. I use the opportunity to riffle
through my bags where I find a pair of clean underwear, a bra, and a
pair of jeans, as well as a lightweight cashmere sweater. Standing up
with the items in my hand, I take two steps toward the bathroom, and
then change my mind. If I’m going to see the attorney who has
this supposed will that kicked me out of my home, I need to look more
like the wife of a dead billionaire.
    I go back through my
clothes, choosing a black wool pantsuit with flared legs and
double-notched collar on the jacket. Grabbing a pale blue silk blouse
to wear underneath, I leave my black Louboutins in the duffle bag.
I’ll
grab those before leaving.
    In the bathroom,