But coming up with the idea of gifting them a trip is one thing. Getting them to accept my gift is a whole other beast. It’ll take some serious effort. My best friends will be suspicious. It’s not every day that people go that far for their bestie and her man. To make it more palatable, I decide to do the opposite. I go back online and purchase two return bus tickets to the Lake of the Ozarks via Kansas City, put in a ten-day booking request for a tiny one-bedroom cabin, then I rent the boat. A shorter, budget vacation is something I can pull off. It’ll show Trish that I mean well, scraping together what I can to give them a memorable experience, especially as they never had a honeymoon after they got hitched. They felt it was more responsible to put their remaining savings toward buying a house.
But packaged up this way, something smaller and more in line with what they know about me, they won’t be able to turn it down. It’s too meaningful a gesture to say no to.
With these trips planned, a bit of my anxiety subsides, but not enough to make a difference to the ball of panic sitting inside my chest.
Changing into an oversized t-shirt, I crawl into bed and pull the covers over me. My fingertips pass over my earring again, hoping for some comfort. I say their names in a whisper.
Rita and Douglas.
I have an album of family photos, but carrying my parents’ names with me has helped me keep their memory alive. It reminds me that although they might’ve been ripped from my life way too soon, they’ll always be close. Photos can age and fall apart, they can be left behind and forgotten, they can be blown up or set on fire, they can be erased. But written in this engraving, no one can ever take them from me.
As I start to relax, the image of Thorne charging toward me floods my senses and my heart jumps. I pull the sheets tighter around me and snap my eyes shut, letting the events replay. I can’t fight them, so I may as well channel all that energy and put that hit of adrenaline to good use. It’ll prepare me for what I have to do next.
But that’s the problem. It’s wasn’t just that I was in danger. Thorne had his body pressed up against me. His hard edges and my soft curves. His thick, corded erection grinding on me, his hand in my hair, his mouth on my skin. The heated spark of an arousal my body has never known.
Fuck. I loved it and I hate myself for it.
I hate him for making this so fucking complicated.
I shove the covers to the side and jump out of bed, starting to pace.
What my mind needs is to focus on the fact that he’s been spying on me for a fucking week or more, sending intel to God knows who, most likely preparing to end us. I need to forget his cock and remember the gun he had jammed into my ribs, ready to kill me. This man is dangerous.
He’s my enemy.
Not a lover.
His being here is a threat to every aspect of the life Grams and I have built since my parents’ murders. In fact, his presence is confirmation that everything we’ve done so far has been for nothing. Our life here is ruined. It’s all over. We have to start over somewhere else.
And that’s the dose of reality that I need. For my blood to boil, for my hatred to grow, for all that pain and anger to spread.
I need to put him down, not fall for him.
I learned a long time ago that love is weak. But pain, rage and hate? They’re the fuels that drive me. And that’s how I’ll survive.
I swallow hard and return to bed, drifting off with the harsh reality pulsing through my being.
The smell of Grams’ pancake breakfast wafting in through my bedroom door wakes me out of an uneasy sleep. I feel groggy opening my eyes in my room this morning. The curtains are pulled wide and bright light is flooding in through all the windows, making the room’s pale eggshell walls and light cream furniture seem to dazzle. But with blinding light or not, I need to use this time while Grams is busy to pack her suitcase. She’ll be surprised that I went to such lengths, but I’m counting on her buying the whole dog and pony show that I’ll put on until she has boarded the plane out east and is finally safe from The Hunter.
Getting out of bed, I throw on my robe and hop to it. It’s only when I’m halfway through packing that the fog in my groggy brain lifts, the prickle of goosebumps on my skin alerting me to a sobering truth.
My bedroom.
The curtains.
The light flooding in.
All my curtains were drawn tight when I went to bed last night.
Or were they?
I’m so fucking off my game because of this man.
But I know for sure that Grams never enters my room on mornings. Not while I’m asleep. She knows how light a sleeper I am, and constantly lectures me about trying to get more beauty rest.
So, if I didn’t open them, and Grams didn’t…
Thorne.
That arrogant prick.
He was in my room!
Dropping the housecoats in my hand, I run back to my room. I look around the space with a discerning eye, trying to determine if anything looks out of place. But nothing does. I walk over to my desk and look out one window toward the abandoned house. Thorne can probably tell my heart is racing from his spot at that window. As panic threatens to steal all the air from my lungs, I raise both hands to shoulder height and flash him my middle fingers. If he’s looking, he’ll get the message. He’s too far away for me to see any response, but as he can see me through his high-tech camera lenses, that’s what matters.
As I stand there, I catch a glimpse of the morning sun reflecting off a piece of glass or metal on the distant second floor. It sends a sparkle of dancing light that moves in a vertical pattern. My eyes track the light for a moment, and something about it causes me to look down my body. Then I freeze.
That son of a bitch has just pointed his red laser sights right at my heart.
God, I hate this man.
I swear, if The Hunter doesn’t kill me right goddamn now, I’ll fucking end him.
Nice and slow.
The curtains, the laser sight on my body… he’s doing this to scare me. To make me feel off balance and vulnerable. To keep putting me in my place. But he doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. As soon as Grams, Luke and Trish are at a safe distance, he’ll find out the truth.
He’s about to meet his match. But sadly, he won’t live long enough to appreciate it.
I raise my straightened index finger at one side of my neck and slowly drag it across my throat, mimicking how I’ll slash his throat, which I promise is exactly what I’ll do next time I see him. No one will ever threaten me and mine again. Not without severe consequences.
Just as I planned, within a couple of days of coming face to face with Thorne Pierce, I’m ready. Grams is thirty thousand feet in the air, her flight more than halfway to her brother’s. Trish and Luke are on a Greyhound bus to the Lake of the Ozarks.
The people closest to me are safe now.
It’s time.
9
Thorne
Rose doesn’t know who she’s dealing with.
She thinks she can taunt the wolf.
But she’s about to find out that most of the time, the wolf bites back.
I come home to find that she has tagged my stakeout spots with booby traps. Simple pressure-mounted little trip wires she probably made from scratch. Some are hooked up to cans of rusty nails. Others are half filled with gasoline. As I disarm them, I have to smile. She’s a scrapper, that’s for sure. She promised she wasn’t going down without a fight, and she wasn’t kidding. The thing is, I’m not here to hurt her. My employer only wants me to watch her. My orders haven’t changed.
I step between two traps and as my foot lands on a creaky floor board that was solid the last time I was in this spot, I freeze. Fuck, I missed this one. I hardly move a muscle, but from above me, a metal tin tilts downward and a rain of ashy gray powder cascades down into my face.
I have no idea what this compound is, but I’m not afraid to die. If I’m about to take my last breath, I’ll only regret that I didn’
t take my chance to sink my cock into Rose before she ended me.
Five minutes later, I’m still standing. The ashy gray powder is probably just that, something she whipped together as a fear tactic.
Nicely done.
The second I safely dispose of the rest of the booby traps Rose left for me, I know exactly where my next stop will be. Her bedroom. I don’t expect to see her there. She’s supposed to be at work soon. But no matter where I find her, she’ll pay for toying with me like this. I’ll make damn sure of it.
Tucking my Glock into the back of my waistband, I leave the house and climb onto my ride wearing the same pair of blue jeans and dark gray vest, with only a black button-down shirt covering my weapon. I’m covered in dust, but I don’t give two fucks right now. There’s no car in Rose’s driveway when I get there, so I turn around and head for the Speak-Easy. When she’s not at home, she’s working, except for Saturday mornings when she does her grocery shopping, or Wednesday afternoons for her visit to the hair and nail salon. Her routine is that predictable.
A smile rises on my face when I make it to the parking lot where she works. I don’t even have to look. She’s here. I can feel it in my bones. I’ve been watching this girl for less than two weeks and I’m already synced to her. Glancing around the packed parking lot, my eyes land on her car and I see her taking a pair of black stilettos out of the trunk. She’s wearing a midnight blue version of that skimpy scrap of material they call a uniform, but she still has her canvas loafers on her feet. That means she’s only been here for a little while. I’m sure now that she stuck around at her house to find out what happened to me before coming to work.
Good. Now she knows. In addition to the satisfaction it gives me that she now knows her little gift didn’t do two fucks to me as she’d hoped, I’m glad that I don’t have to walk into the strip club and stand out like a sore thumb. If they’d let me in at all looking like this. As soon as I lower my motorcycle stand and dismount my ride, I see her scrambling for her keys. It’s no use. I’m between her and the club entrance. If she tries to return to her car, even better. Either way, she has to go through me.
She gives me a scathing look. “You’d better leave before I scream.”
“Really? That’s what you’re going for? The damsel in distress?” I can’t push down the grin on my face.
“Whatever works to make you go the hell back to wherever you came from.”
“That’s not happening, little girl,” I tell her. “Get used to it.”
She makes it too easy, turning to head back to her car. I’m behind her in no time. She’s boxed in. Mine now to do with as I please. And what’s worse is there’s a Jeep on one side of her car and a Dodge Silverado on the other. They provide more than enough cover between us, the club, and the driveway entrance.
“I’m armed,” she warns me, stumbling back, but corners herself even further by pressing her back against her driver side door. “And I’m not afraid to use it.”
“Can’t you see that I’m quaking in my boots with terror?” I joke, and step closer. “But seriously, you really need to stop. I’m not going anywhere.”
“If you’re going to kill me, just get it over with already,” she speaks up, her voice tight and fearless.
“We’ve already talked about that. I’m not here for that. Not yet, anyway.” I lift my hand to her face and trace a finger down her cheek, then take her chin between my thumb and index finger. “Are you going to keep showing up, giving me more and more reasons to take it out on your ass? Or will you let me do my job?”
She brushes my hand away from her face and cranes her neck up, piercing my eyes with her angry stare. “If you’d tell me why the hell you keep watching me and following me around, maybe I wouldn’t need to. Go back and tell your boss that your goddamn cover is blown. Then get the hell out of my life. Or kill me now, because the next time I come for you, I’m coming for blood.”
“Yeah, yeah. You said that already. What else you got for me?”
She doesn’t answer me, she just stands there, waiting. I look down between us, taking in every visible curve of hers in that dress. My eyes paused at the creamy skin at her cleavage, and my cock twitches. Fuck, she’s gorgeous. Every time I look at her she’s more beautiful than the last time.
“Stop doing that,” she mutters, but doesn’t move an inch.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask, closing in.
“Stop whatever it is that you’re doing,” she almost whispers. She lets her stilettos drop from her hand and tries to put her hands between our bodies to push me away, but it’s useless. “Stop that thing you did to me. You’re doing it again… seducing me, sexually assaulting me with your eyes, trying to break me with that molten stare. Jesus, I don’t know, just stop.”
I couldn’t stop if I tried. Pushing closer, I run one hand into her hair and the other down her arm, finding the small of her waist. “I can’t stop,” I growl. “Just like you can’t fight it.”
Her breath hitches and I lean into her. She’s so little in front of me. I almost wish I’d caught her while she was wearing those heels. The slight movement makes her tilt her head to one side, exposing her neck. I graze my lips against the tender flesh at her ear and touch the cool metal of her earring. The faint light above us reveals some type of script on her earring, but it’s too dark to make out what the tiny words say. I park that discovery at the back of my mind and flatten my tongue on her ear near the spot. When she moans out from pleasure, I know. We’re both lost to whatever this is. The attraction between us is stronger than anything I’ve ever known.
Tightening my grip on her hair, I tilt her head back. Her eyes open and she meets my stare as my other hand drifts down her hip and stops at the hem of her skirt. “I warned you this would happen, Little Red.”
“Don’t,” she mumbles, her voice weak and without any force, like she’s going through the motions, saying what she thinks she should say at a time like this. But her body doesn’t agree.
“I told you I’d punish you.” I slide her dress up her thighs, grabbing a handful of her thick ass.
“Hunter,” she moans.
“It’s Thorne,” I say, and tug her thong panties to one side. “Call me by my real name, not my moniker.”
I don’t expect her to say it, but she does, and that sound coming from her mouth does something to me. I slip two fingers along her drenched folds, and when she calls my name again, I bury them inside her.
She gasps from my roughness but takes my fingers inside, working her hips to get them deeper as I pump back and forth. She’s wet, yet so fucking tight, I doubt my cock will make its way inside. Not here, out in the open like this.
She grabs my upper arms, holding on to me as her knees loosen and her legs part a little to give me access. I finger fuck her so hard, curving my fingers deep into her tight pussy to find her G-spot. I brush my thumb over her swollen clit, and that one move sends her the rest of the way. I kiss her neck as her body starts to buck while she comes.
“Yes, babe,” I growl. “Come for me.”
As her body calms, I pull out of her pussy and can’t stop myself from sucking her sweet juices off my fingertips. I’ve wanted to taste her since I first saw her. Promising myself to finish the job after her shift, I straighten her dress and kiss that spot on her ear again.
“You should get to work.” I say. “I’ll be right here when your shift finishes. And, bring the red dress home with you. The heels too.”
“What?” she asks as she comes to her senses.
“This was just a taste, Little Red. I told you I’d fuck the fight right out of you.”
She starts to struggle in my arms again, but I know the reaction means nothing now. I’ll have her again, all of her, and she’s going to love every second of it.
I head home to clean up and assess what other surprises she might’ve left for me at my stakeout spot. Finding none, I head back to the Speak-Easy, getting there a few minutes before Rose’s sh
ift ends.
That Rose.
I see her as she tries to ditch me by leaving her car at work and taking a ride from her boss. He parks his car in a private spot at the delivery entrance on the other side of the club. Did she really think she could simply use a different entrance to the club to lose a tail so easily, especially when that tail is me?
A new challenge throws me off my guard, though.
While I’m following at a safe distance, I find out that I’m not the only one keeping tabs on Little Red.
10
Rose
I feel so dirty right now, and it’s not because of what Thorne and I did in the parking lot.
God, no.
What he did to my body was out of this world.
I don’t even feel too bad about crying out his name when he made me come, or that life is so fucked up that the man someone sent to track my movements is the person who drives me to my first real orgasm.
The reason I feel this way is here I am, in the passenger seat of my boss Jeff’s car, listening to him talk business projections as he drives me home, and all I can think about is how long it’ll take for Thorne to catch up to me.
Because deep down, now that he’s touched me, I want him to catch me.
I want him to finish the job.
“Are you all right?” Jeff asks, putting his work chatter on hold to get my attention.
“Sorry, what? Yes, I’m fine. A bit tired,” I lie.
My words are a lie because I’m the opposite of tired. I’m energized. My body is, anyway. My phone buzzes in my purse with an incoming text alert, but I ignore it. It’s after three in the morning. Whoever it is that wants to contact me can wait.
“I don’t mind if you answer that,” Jeff tells me.
Wolf (Tall, Dark and Dangerous Book 2) Page 6
