by Warren, Rie
Jessica rolled to her feet in one of the sexy teacher outfits I didn’t have time to properly appreciate. “As you can see we’re in the very capable hands of the police who come to the rescue at a moment’s notice,” she said to her small students as she strode to her desk. “Now, who can guess how Stellaluna ends?” She held up a book with the baby bat on the cover.
Hands shot into the air followed by squeals all to the sound of me, me, ME, Miss BARNES!
My voice came out strained. “You seem to have everything in hand, Miss Barnes. Officer Kingston and I have to complete the rounds.” Find the perp, make sure the school was cleared top to bottom.
Ashe exited, waiting tensely in the hall.
Jessica approached me at the door. “Be careful,” she whispered.
Briefly tugging her to me amid the hoots-and-giggles from the kids, I murmured, “Lock the door behind me. Do not let anyone in until you get the all clear. I’ll be back when it’s over.”
Jack watched with curious intelligence. I’d probably just screwed the pooch on keeping this whole JB and me thing secret.
Ashe and I carried on throughout the school, clearing out the pods and calling in to the chief. A few minutes later, a scuffle sounded over the airwaves.
Suspect spotted outside! Twelve o’clock, scaling the fence at the back of the playground.
“How the hell did he get out?” Ashe’s feet hit the hallway.
I fell into a run beside her, grim-faced. “Probably the same way he got in.”
Vicente was one shady fuck, and I didn’t think it would be a good idea for the MPPD crew to get involved with him, especially since I was the one he had the beef with.
The back entrance had been buzzed open for police pursuit, and I raced out the doors with Ashe sprinting right beside me. I told her to stay back, but she ignored me with a blank stare and fierce determination on her face.
She kept pace, and we saw the flash of a forest green hoodie drop down the opposite side of the fence at the far side of the playground.
“Kingston and Sexton, in pursuit of suspect!” Ashe called in.
We overtook the less than fit officer struggling to swing his stout frame over the top of the fence. The pair of us parkoured it easily, but the suspect blazed across the football fields at the neighboring rec department, headed toward the surrounding woods.
A flash of a long black braid stole across the field in the distance.
“Fucking Walker.” The sneaky fucker raced like the wind was at his back and his feet had wings.
“Who’s he to you?” Ashe puffed through deep-chugging breaths as we hurried to cut them off at the pass.
“The only person who knows everything about me. And therefore, dangerous.”
We skidded to a halt, practically stumbling over the two men who grappled on the ground. Walker threw a hard-knuckled fist at the suspect’s face, and I couldn’t tell if it was Vicente or not.
“Police brutality!” The perp struggled to push him off, but Walker was stronger, faster, and really fucking mean when he wanted to be.
“I’m not a cop, fuckwad. Keep shouting and I’ll punch you until your eardrums burst.” Walker took another brain-matter-shattering swing at the man.
I pulled Walker away by his collar, ready to leap on the suspect if he turned out to be Vicente. Relief washed over me, followed by renewed worry when I saw a harmless Hispanic dude lying on the cold grass, blood dripping from his swelling nose.
That meant Vicente was still out there.
“Let’s make him sing before MPPD’s finest get here.” Walker drew his S&W Special, a sadistic grin flitting across his lips.
I looked behind me. The SWAT van and an ambulance cut across the field toward us, and six police officers hoofed it on foot.
“What do you know about Vicente Valderas?” I dragged the sniveling shit to his feet.
“Don’t know no Valderas.”
“Connected with Tampa Bay Outlaws? Miami Muerte?” I asked while Walker strolled around the delinquent, taking lazy aim at various kill-spots on the kid’s body.
He shook his head with a whimper.
Next to me, Ashe looked white around the lips. Probably introducing her to Walker’s and my less than savory interrogation tactics wasn’t a good idea on her third week back on the job. But this was mere child’s play compared to what we’d done in the past to gain information.
I shoved my face against the perp’s and grabbed a hank of his hair, whipping his head up to mine. “Why were you in the school, you fucking perv? Is that it? Getting dirty over little boys and girls?”
The rippling power of my addiction surged over me—holding another person’s life in my hands. I thought I’d detoxed from that shit. Clearly not.
With a pathetic whine, the kid tried to shrink away from me. “No, no, jefe.”
“He’s a dead end.” Walker swiveled around and pressed the barrel of his gun against the guy’s temple. “We should just snuff him now.”
Ashe’s eyes widened. “That’s not how we do it here.”
Walker’s lips thinned in a sardonic line, he tapped the Smith & Wesson against the perp’s head. “Maybe it’s time for a life lesson.”
With a gun pointed at his forehead, the dude looked up at me, quickly losing his weak and whiny veneer, replacing it with a sneaky smile. “Vicente just wanted to get your attencione, Cazador.”
Then the cops were upon us, covering the sly little asshole in a wall of dark blue.
“What? What did you just fucking say?” I tried to push through the barricade of officers. Cazador. That had been my alias when I was with the Outlaws.
“The other one, the Indian, he hit me.” I heard the high-pitched whine from Vicente’s weasel.
I wasn’t worried about Walker getting out of this one. He could disappear into thin air if he wanted to. But the message from Vicente . . . if he wanted to fuck with my head, it was working. My nerves unraveled at a steady pace.
I couldn’t get near the Hispanic fuck again. The police patted him down, reading him his Miranda Rights.
“Fuck!” I pounded my fist against my thigh, needing to hit something.
“Just what the hell is going on, Hunter?” Ashe laid a hand on my arm.
I jerked away from her. “None of your business and you’re better off not knowing.”
She turned to Walker with a menacing look.
He backed off. “Don’t look at me, lady. I’m just Ghost’s oldest friend, official-unofficial-like.”
With the suspect cuffed and escorted to the nearest police cruiser, I sprinted across the field.
Ashe yelled after me, “We’re not done with this, Hunter.”
I was done. Too bad Walker was my new shadow, and he remained plastered to my side as I reentered the school. The classrooms had been reopened and small streams of students walked along the corridors, talking animatedly.
I stopped outside Jessica’s room and stuck a hand up to halt Walker. “Walker.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to go inside and talk to my son and my girlfriend for a few minutes. Get the fuck out of my sight.”
He ambled away, complaining, “You know you should watch your language. You’re in a school and all that.”
Entering in less of a rush than before, I took in the sight of Jessica standing at the whiteboard, going through the days of the week with the kids.
A different kind of nervousness settled in the pit of my stomach, and I wiped my palms on my jeans.
“Mr. Angelo.” Jessica turned to me with a smile.
“Just wanted to make sure everything was fine, Miss Barnes.”
“Very fine,” she all but purred.
That she was. I dragged my eyes away, finding Jack. He wrinkled his nose at me and crooked his finger.
“Mind if I?” I looked at Jessica, sweeping a hand toward Jack.
“’Course not.”
I kneeled beside Jack’s desk, and he hugged me in a tight chokehold around the neck. “Dad
dy, do you like Miss Barnes?” he whispered excitedly.
Well, hell.
Drawing back, I tapped his nose. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Do you have to go, Daddy?”
“Perhaps Mr. Angelo would care to stay?” Jessica looked at me, her fine eyebrows arched.
“Like nothing more, but I gotta do my duty.” I chucked Jack on the chin when he huffed. “But I’ll let your mom know I’ll pick you up after school, okay?”
After kissing his forehead, I stood. “Outside for a moment, Miss Barnes?”
I had to bite back a moan as she walked toward me, the yes ma’am skirt sliding along her thighs. I bracketed her against the wall outside, straining in my flesh. I hungered for her mouth, the taste of her lips. Now was not the time or the place. Desperation clawed at me. After the events of the day I had to be close to her as soon as possible.
“I need you. Tonight.” My voice came out low and rough.
I wanted to devour her on the spot.
Her eyes flickered to mine. “My house?”
“Yes.”
* * *
Hours later, after getting the perp’s name from Chief Tilden and running it through every LE database, Interpol, and the channels Walker and I had access to, we figured Enrique Duarte was probably an alias. We were making no headway in locating Vicente.
I picked up Jack from school and made sure he and Mel were safe and sound. When I finally made it to Jessica’s it was well after dark. I slipped inside after checking the perimeter.
Old habits died hard and had kept me alive on more than one occasion.
I’d texted her to say I was on the way. She’d replied she was already in bed, waiting for me. I knew the whereabouts of her spare key, and I’d use it tonight, but that under the plant pot on her front porch trick was never gonna happen again.
I walked softly up the stairs, pocketing the key.
Ghost.
Cazador.
Hunter.
Now the hunted . . .
In Jessica’s bedroom, only one lamp was on. She was curled on her side in the big bed beneath a mound of quilts. She watched me steadily, her eyes becoming deeper, blacker, pools of dark heat as I undressed.
I pulled the covers back to see her. The curves, her breasts, her neck that arched when I dragged my tongue down it and my teeth back up.
“God, I want you.”
“Hunter?”
Raw desire pounded through me. “Just take it. Take me.” I sucked a nipple into my mouth, biting it between the flash of my teeth. “I’m gonna be rough.”
“Yes. Oh, yes!” Fingernails dragged down my back, landing on my ass. She raised her hips off the bed, twisting impatiently while I sheathed myself with a condom.
I held her thighs wide and made entry with one long deep lunge. My fingers curled in her hair, tugging hard. Pumping my hips, I embedded my cock as deeply as I could. Hitting the mouth of her womb. Grabbing her nipples in my mouth. Grunting as thought fled and pure animal instinct took over.
Claim.
Own.
Fuck.
The pounding of flesh. The sting of teeth. The grip of her wet cunt squeezing me in a vise of heat. No sound except our skin slapping, our voices shouting, the raw blood roar in my ears.
Gripping her ass, I drove even deeper, and she screamed my name. A hot flood of liquid dripped onto my balls, down my thighs. I rubbed her tits raw with my stubble, my teeth, my chest hair and still it wasn’t enough.
Latching onto her mouth, I yelled silently inside. She stabbed her heels into my ass, rising off the bed to meet my every ramming thrust.
Fight.
Hate.
Love.
Rolling onto my back, I urged her up and down my cock. “Take me. You take me now.”
Jessica rode me fast, hard, dirty. She pinched my nipples and grazed my skin with sharp fingernails, leaving her own marks scored on my skin. She pulled the hair on my chest until it was painful, but the pain was chased away by an all-over body rush of fuck yes.
I sat up suddenly, cupping her breasts, her ass, her face. “Make love to me.”
Her movements slowed, and inside, she became tighter, wetter, hotter.
She kissed my neck, my shoulders, my lips. “Oh, Hunter. Yes.”
I curled around her, my cheek pressed to hers, my mouth at her ear. My skin was on fire, my balls nearly bursting, my shaft so hard it drilled deeply into her.
We came, locked together, wound around each other.
Holding her face between my hands, I murmured against her lips, “My God, Jessica.”
She slept fell asleep shortly after, her legs entangled with mine, her hands stilled on my chest.
I swept the hair from her temples, kissing each small pulse point.
Untouched.
Unharmed.
Unmarked.
Beautiful.
“I think I’ve fallen in love with you,” I whispered to her in her sleep.
Eleven
EVERYTHING WAS SHIT-SIDE UP in my life, but I couldn’t stop whistling. Sure, a psycho Cuban cunt was after me. Walker had virtually moved in with me, putting a damper on my man cave existence. I had too much crap in my past to ever figure out, and against my better judgment, I’d gone and fallen in love.
But, well, I just couldn’t bring myself to give a fuck. I’d never been in love before. Not like this. So I whistled. It helped that my cheerful attitude made Walker leave any room in the house where I took up a happy tune.
No matter how hard the two of us beat the motherfucking bushes with Frankie’s aid as my favorite flip informant, we got no break on Vicente. But he was here. He was near. I felt it in my bones. It was only a matter of time before he held a knife to my throat or went the more civilized route and tried to make contact.
Since I was in a whistling sort of mood—never before heard of—I decided to volunteer at the pre-Turkey Day party in Jack’s class the following week. I even bought a double-order of themed cupcakes. As I headed out the door, Walker looked at me as if I’d grown an extra head . . . or a conscience. He snatched a gobble-gobble treat from the tray, and I drew my gun on him.
“Touch another one and die.” I meant that shit literally.
“They’re good,” he said through a full mouth, eyeing the platter of baked goods. “Although as an Injun myself I don’t really go in for this Thanksgiving crap.”
“And I’m serious about the being dead thing.”
If nothing else, heading to Cooper Hall Elementary gave me a break from our Odd Couple existence. Of course, I had an ulterior motive, too. I could keep a much better eye on Jack and Jessica if I was actually in the classroom. Hell, I might even become teacher’s pet. The final Friday before Thanksgiving, I was waved through the school office with an appreciative glance from the receptionist who recognized me from Raid Day. She slid a sticker with my face on it below the partition before I could even get out my wallet. In return, I offered her a cupcake.
As I navigated the hallways, I nodded at students and teachers alike. They giggled and gossiped in quiet voices in reply. Maybe I wasn’t as scary as I should be. I’d have to rectify that.
Jessica’s door was open, laughter erupting from inside. I liked to tell myself she’d coerced me into doing this good deed the last time she’d fucked me—a hurried against-the-door screw a few nights ago—but that’d be a bald-faced lie. I jonesed for a look at her every second of the day. In her biker babe gear or her hot-for-teacher skirts . . . I simply wanted her. Double win? Jack was here, too.
As soon as I entered, he bowled against my legs with his head down like a hyperactive little billy goat. I placed the cupcakes on a table and scooped him into my arms. He’s smelled like youth—a little dirty, a little soapy, and fresh with the remnants of pencil shavings.
Setting him on his feet, I asked, “Ready for the Monster Mash, monster?”
“That’s Halloween, Daddy.” Jack towed me by my hand into a melee of other parents.
They looked so PTA-socialite-superior compared to my old faded jeans, the well worn leather jacket, and the aviator shades hooked on the collar of my shirt, I almost did an about-face, but Jessica suddenly appeared by my side.
Momentarily slipping her hand into mine, she introduced me to the Pinckneys, Calhouns, and Ravenels, Mt. Pleasant’s very own answer to the Rothschilds, Gettys, and Carnegies. I stopped paying attention to everyone else, hearing only Jessica’s low voice. Didn’t hurt she wore mega-high heels, black hose, and then there were the freckles. Not that I had a fetish or anything . . . she was my fetish.
“You bought cupcakes?” She leaned up to me once the handshaking and sizing up with the other parents was over and the kids got busy with the first game.
I dragged my hands through my too-long black hair. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No!” She turned to inspect the tray with a small frown. “They’re perfect.”
“Why do you look like I fucked up then?” I peered over her shoulder.
She pivoted enough her soft hair hit my chin, her smile wide. “I thought you’d bring mini-bottles or something.”
I stepped back with a snort. “Me? I’m Mister Mom, sweetheart.”
“Let’s see if you survive the next hour first, huh?”
There she went with the challenge again. I took it up. “Ye of little faith.”
There was no way I could blend in with the moms in floral dresses and highlighted hair or the dads in chinos and loafers, but that didn’t matter. I was here for Jessica and her students, and my crafts table rocked it out. Probably because I didn’t give a shit if the kids glued feathers to their own hair instead of the Native American headdresses they were supposed to be making.
Watching Jessica in action as she handled passive aggressive complaints from parents and demands from her students, I stared at her until my eyes were glued to her. She gently smoothed ruffled feathers while never giving in, always sticking to her guns.
Yep, I was in love. And I didn’t give a shit. I’d say it again. Next time she’d be awake. Yeah, I had big cojones.
In the middle of fucking up all Jessica’s well-laid party plans I got a call from Frankie followed fast by one from Walker. I took both calls in the hall outside the room, closing the door behind me. Frankie told he finally had visual confirmation. Vicente was in fact in town. Walker’s info was more concerning, but nothing I didn’t expect. Vicente wanted a solo meet-up with me tonight.
