by Em Petrova
She did, taking control of the position and grinding down over his cock as she swirled her tongue against his. His mind bent to the breaking point as her pussy clamped around his cock. With a grunt, he pushed up, in, higher—Christ, he lost all sense of anything going on in the world but him fucking Sloane.
And this is why I can’t touch my ward.
Her cry shook him. He gripped her hard, levered his hips and let go of his control. Pumps of cum flooded her bare walls.
“Ffffuck!” When had he last filled a woman with his cum? Never. He’d never done that.
Her breasts bounced as she rode out her bliss, her head dropping forward against his. Up close, he saw those damn freckles.
How could some tiny brown dots steal his damn mind?
* * * * *
“Sloane. Get up. We need to move quick.”
The rough male voice penetrated her sleeping mind, and she bolted upright to see North standing at the bedside.
“What?”
“Come on, sweetheart. I know you’re not even awake, but I need to see how fast you can move now.” He handed her a clean set of clothes he’d obviously pulled from her duffel bag.
Her adrenaline kicked in, and she leaped off the bed. As she yanked on bra, panties, leggings and a long top, she fought to find the right questions to ask. He already had her bag over his shoulder and a formidable expression locked on his face, the one that reminded her this was no love affair but a real danger loomed over her.
Finished dressing, she shoved her feet into the boots he had sitting there on the floor ready for her. She zipped the ankles and jerked to a stand. “Ready.”
He led her out of the bedroom and to the front of the house, head swinging left and right, his back an impenetrable wall blocking her from seeing whatever he did. She felt the urge to grip his shirt but curled her fingers into her palm instead.
“Bodhi?” Her voice quavered too much for her liking. She needed to dig deep and locate that power she managed to tap into each time she saved a girl.
“The media’s going wild with this new environmental news. Protests are going on up and down the coast. People lining up for hundreds of miles to block the coast and protest big business destroying oceans. Other groups are pissed about working conditions that has a lot more people than oil riggers walking off the coast.”
“H—” she broke off before trying again. “How did this happen? It was a movie!”
He sliced her a look over his shoulder. “I know. And you’re the Joan of Arc, raising leagues of people.”
“I didn’t do that!”
They reached the front door of the house, and he turned to her. “Listen to me. The media is hunting you down right now, and I have word they’re close. We need to get to the car as fast as possible. The world is hot right now, and I’m taking you someplace away from it all.”
She searched his eyes, remembering too easily how he’d looked at her the previous night while in the throes of passion. “Where?”
“South again.” He reached for the door handle.
She threw out a hand to stop him. “South? Flint will find me. I know right now he’s looking for me. I stirred up a hornet’s nest. Don’t you see it, Bodhi? Nowhere is safe!” She raised her hands to frame the sides of her face.
Suddenly, he reached out and cupped her cheek. The soft touch gave her an immediate sense of calm.
“There’s more of the South than the places that asshole Flint lives, Sloane. Trust me. I’ll keep you safe. Okay?”
She dropped her stare to his broad chest. That body part had done more than shield her—it had pillowed her head and curled around her as the final shocks of her orgasm ripped through her.
She lifted her gaze and nodded. “I’m ready.”
He responded with a no-nonsense nod. “Good girl.”
After he cracked the door, he peeked out before opening it wide enough for them both to slip out. “Pull it shut behind you. It will lock automatically.”
With a shaking hand, she did as he ordered. He rushed her across the yard to the vehicle so fast she had no recollection of walking, only of a blur of world around her. He whipped open the car door and helped her inside.
“Keep your head down.”
Heartrate climbing, she folded in half and rested her head on her knees. North jumped behind the wheel, and several tense minutes later, his voice reached her. “Just another minute.”
“What’s going on? I want to see.”
“Don’t sit up. There’s a car on our tail.”
Panic struck. “What? Who is it?” She twisted her head to see him with his cell to his ear.
“I’m about to find out. Just stay down, baby.”
The endearment washed over her, granting a measure of calm while she listened to him talk on the phone.
“Sister. You got me on screen?”
On screen? Sister?
A pause stretched on. Then he said, “Track that vehicle.”
Oh God, this world had never seemed so frightening as it did now. Not even the moment Sloane learned her own father had sold her sister into marriage, and she was most likely next, had turned her blood to ice this way.
Her mind wandered further down the line. After she learned her sister would never return, she ran to Atlanta and walked into a modeling agency with the hope everyone was right that she should be a model. It paid off. Modeling led to acting, which led to the current viper pit she’d been tossed into with only Bodhi as a shield.
“Thanks, Sister.” He ended the call and cast Sloane a look. “The car following us is a reporter. He got wind that we stopped for gas down the road. When my photo flashed on the news, the gas station attendant recognized me and made the call, hoping for a payout.”
“What do we do?”
The sudden grin stretching over his face shocked her into partially sitting up. “By the time you count to five, their rental vehicle’s security system will turn on the check engine light.” North watched in the rearview mirror, and from her angle, she stole a peek in the side mirror at the car behind them slowing and then moving off to the side of the road.
North’s white teeth flashed as he shot another grin. The sick man was actually enjoying himself. “Nobody knows her work better than Sister.”
“You have a sister?”
“Madeline isn’t my sister, not in the familial sense. She works for The Guard.”
She processed this, along with the fact he worked for an agency that could switch on a car’s check engine light remotely.
“Can I sit up now?”
“You can sit up.”
From her folded position, she didn’t realize how fast they were going until she sat up. Clenching on to the sides of the seat, she tried to reconcile what was taking place. Running her tongue over her teeth, she remembered she didn’t even get a chance to brush them before Bodhi swept her out the door, obviously with mere minutes to spare. She glanced in the side mirror again, but she saw no car as they outstripped the reporter.
“Do you work for the government?” She reached for her handbag between her legs and dug out a hair band as well as a breath mint.
“I used to. Many of us did. It’s what gives us so many connections. Enough on that.” He looked her over as if checking for injuries. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” She tucked the mint into her cheek and drew her hair into a messy bun. One look at him revealed that he sported a similar hairstyle. “You’re prettier than I am this morning.”
There it was again—the tilt of North’s lips that flooded her ovaries with dreams of little babies wearing messy topknots just like his.
She shoved away the stupid thought born from their night together and tried to focus on the fact they were fleeing—and headed right into Flint’s neck of the woods.
“I don’t enjoy the idea of being on this road,” she said.
“We’ll make a detour soon. I’m not about to drive to the town we took Lauren from.”
She nodded.
<
br /> “I need to ask you about your sister, Sloane.”
She drew in a shaky breath. He meant to help her. After all this time operating on her own, it was a relief to lean on someone else, someone with government ties and women he called Sister on his side.
“Is there a place your sister might be hiding?” he asked.
“I don’t think so. I considered it and can’t think of anyone she’d trust after what our dad did.”
“Maybe a special place she enjoyed visiting?”
She shook her head.
“A friend’s house?”
“No, not that I know of.”
“Tell me everything from the top. In the days leading up to the time your father sold your sister, did you notice anybody coming to the house? Overhear any odd phone calls?”
She responded with what she could recall. After racking her brain over and over for the same information, she hardly remembered what was real or imagined anymore. Instead, she stuck to the facts.
Bodhi drove on, silent now, his jaw set. As she studied him, flashes of images and sensations washed through her from their night together. Being in his strong arms had calmed and comforted her. She also didn’t expect to feel anything for the man come dawn.
The warmth in her chest and the flutter low in her belly told her otherwise.
Her attraction for Bodhi rocketed off the charts, and it didn’t stop there. A look into his eyes told her the man’s intelligence surpassed many she’d ever met, and she’d worked with some genius creative types in the film industry.
While he hadn’t spoken of a family, she imagined he led a somewhat normal life outside of his work. Thanksgiving dinners with parents and siblings. A comfy bachelor’s pad and a dog greeting him at the door with a sloppy kiss.
She nearly smiled at the imaginings. Sometimes her imagination ran away from her, and the scenarios always involved other people doing the things she missed out on. Her life may seem glamorous, but nobody knew she stepped into modeling to escape a terrible home life and her own arranged marriage.
She’d been lucky. Some people never reached her status no matter how hard they worked. She looked at the opportunity as a gift. Not only could she help those girls, but her own life had been saved.
Now to save Scarlett.
North could help her. Did she want that? If he lost his life fighting for her cause, then Sloane would never forgive herself.
She had to speak up.
“North.”
He swung his head around and pierced her in his stare.
“I can’t allow you to step into this fight with me. All I ask is that you protect me from the current situation with the oil riggers, and I’ll do the rest alone.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re asking me to step back and let you fight this Flint guy alone? You know even if you managed to put Flint in prison, there will be another man prepared to step into the same trade.”
She nodded, fingers twisting in her lap. “I’m prepared to fight him as well.”
When she grew aware that his attention no longer centered on the road but solely on her, she waved at him. “Watch what you’re doing.”
“I am. I’m watching a woman with more determination than most soldiers I’ve seen going to war.”
Her jaw dropped.
“You don’t always have to be so strong, Sloane. Not when there are people like me to hold you up.”
Her heart gave a wild flip.
“You may not need me, but I’m here to tell you that I’m going to be here for you. Every damn step of the way.” He looked at the road again. “So get used to me.”
* * * * *
North pulled into a grass-covered driveway and stopped in front of a small cabin with grayed wood bleached from standing years in the South Carolina sunshine. Trees and shrubs had grown up considerably around the place since he’d last visited.
“What is this place?” Sloane’s voice came out soft.
He could tell her the cabin was just another stop off. He chose the truth. “It’s my family’s cabin. We’d come here a week or two every summer.” From the woodsy front, a person couldn’t tell a path led right down to a secluded beach, where Bodhi and his younger sister would pick up seashells to add to their stash and stay outdoors until their hair bleached white from the sun.
Reaching out, he rested a hand on Sloane’s arm. “No one will find us here. We’ll stay until this mess blows over for you.” Or until he risked even more danger of losing his heart to the strong woman.
He resisted rubbing a hand over his face and instead climbed from the car. He led her inside and closed and locked the door out of habit, even though nobody would ever locate them here. Not only were they off the beaten track, they were far from the public eye.
Sloane moved around the small living space, examining the framed photos of the family on the wall and underneath that, a collection of shells on a long shelf.
“This is you?” She turned from the photo of him at about fifteen, his hair wild and tangled from the sand and surf, and he was smiling and tanned and happy.
He nodded.
“You look the same.”
He offered her a smile. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?” Knowing there wouldn’t be provisions here like at the houses provided by The Guard, he’d stopped at a drive-thru and purchased some fried chicken and fixin’s to get them through the night.
“I want a shower first,” Sloane said.
He showed her around the house, and the minute he heard the shower switch on, he dropped to the slightly saggy denim sofa and leaned forward with elbows on knees.
Fuck, what had he been thinking to bring her here? He couldn’t blame his instincts—he could have driven her inland to any number of safehouses. Instead, he chose to bring her even deeper into his personal life, when the woman already dug in too deep.
“Shit.” He pushed back and slumped against the sofa. Looking around, he saw little things his mom had done to update the cabin since the good ole days. One of her new oil paintings hung on a wall, this one of the cove with a boat in the distance. The sofa, though old, sported new striped pillows.
He picked one up and threw it at a wall.
Dammit, he had to get a grip on his life. He brought Sloane here to hide her, not introduce her to the family. Then why did it feel that way?
On the ride through the Georgia country, Sloane had talked. Told him things he wouldn’t soon forget and now burned like an ember in his gut. She related the story of her sister’s disappearance and how she knew she was next on her daddy’s list. How she got into modeling and then acting…then returned to search for her sister. Which led to tale after tale of close calls and near-misses of being caught by Flint and the husbands Sloane stole their underage wives from.
Jesus Christ. Something must be done.
He stood and walked to the back of the cabin to stare out at the lush greenery concealing the cabin on all sides from the beach and anyone who might stumble this direction.
If anyone did, they’d meet with Mr. SIG Sauer.
He combed his fingers through his hair and turned from the window. He might be on his old stomping ground, but this was no play time. He had a job to do, a ward to protect and information to gather.
Tipping his head, he listened for the running water. Hearing it, he took out his phone and called Madeline. She answered immediately.
“You made it to your destination. Nice beach.” Her voice held a note of amusement.
“Forgot my swim trunks.”
She chuckled. “I’m putting you on speaker. Oz is here.”
“Okay. Hello, Father.” The nickname for the leader of The Guard had come about early on, and North was one of many who teased Oz by using it. “Tell me what you know.”
“The lines of people on the coast are now stretching another ten miles. The press is eating it up, with helicopters circling the beaches,” Madeline informed him.
“What do you know about them linking their cause to Sloane?”
>
“They’re holding life-size posters of her in her movie role as picket signs.”
“Hell,” he ground out, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“You made an odd choice in stops, North,” Oz said. “With all the protests taking place on the coast.”
“They’ll never reach this place. Too remote.” He was a hundred-ten percent convinced he made the right decision.
“Are you sure about that, North? There’s a safehouse twenty miles away from—”
He cut across Madeline. “Trust my judgment, Madeline, please.”
“She only questions us because she cares and has our best interests at heart, North,” Oz broke in.
“I know.” He’d witnessed Madeline’s harsh questioning of other guards and realized nobody took their job as seriously as she did. While everyone watched each other’s backs, Madeline actually took responsibility for them all returning safe.
He dropped his hand from his face and looked at the surroundings that were all too familiar. “I’m sorry. Go on. What news of this drilling company owner?”
“Lars and Roman paid him a visit.”
He heard the amusement in Oz’s tone. “I’m assuming he’s in custody.”
“Affirmative. Don’t let your guard down just yet, though.”
The mere thought of allowing danger to come close to Sloane returned the tension to his shoulders. He rubbed the back of his neck, except it didn’t ease one bit. The only thing that would? Having Sloane in his arms right now.
Stop.
“We believe we’ll have the situation neutralized in a week, maybe two. Then you can release your ward to her former bodyguards and that should be enough security,” Madeline said.
“No way in hell.”
Silence beat on the other end of the line. Obviously he’d stunned both his colleagues and left them floundering for something to say.
“You don’t know the whole story.” He listened for the shower. It went on and on, which only caused his imagination to kick up again with thoughts of Sloane wet, slippery and naked.
He leaned against the counter and took the brunt of his weight off his leg. The injury required stretching and possibly a walk after being folded in the car for several hours.
“What’s going on, North?” Oz’s tone held a bite to it.
