Hounded (Going to the Dogs)

by Dawson, Zoe

  Poe turned in the bike. “That’s just another battleground where you can be a warrior.”

  “Okay, I will think about it and see what I can do to have fun on my own. Should I write about it in my diary?”

  “Would that be the one with the Care Bears on it?”

  He nudged her and she nudged him back. “See, too much fun. Right?”

  He bent down and scooped her up in a fireman’s carry.

  “Put me down, you oaf.”

  “That’s Oaf of Fun to you.”

  Poe burst out laughing. “Okay, I take it back, you’re not an oaf.”

  “Just fun?”

  “Yes,” she laughed again. “Tons of fun.”

  He set her down and she shoved his shoulder. “You’re really strong.”

  “You don’t weigh much, Poe.”

  “You’re still strong. And the way you stopped that runaway horse was pretty amazing.”

  “It comes as second nature to me. When they get spooked, they’re like big babies. Just takes time to settle them down.”

  He cupped her face and her breath caught.

  “Thanks for helping with Daisy today. I think she really had fun.” At the sound of her name, she barked, her tail going a mile a minute.

  They both laughed.

  “She’s much happier, so hopefully she’ll participate more in the routine.”

  “I’ve been practicing with her. Let’s see what she can do. Food first, then off to Sit Happens?”

  Poe started to nod, then slapped her head. “Oh my God. I almost forgot. We have that gallery thing tonight.”

  When he looked blank, she prompted, “You know. Callie mentioned it a couple of days ago. Brooke’s fiancé’s sister?”

  “Oh, yes, that’s right. Emma.”

  “Exactly. Do you mind?”

  “No, but we’re going to have to really practice from now until next week. The Fur Ball isn’t far off.”

  “I know. We have all weekend. I’m not on call. Are you busy?”

  “No, I’m all yours.”

  “Oooh, I like the sound of that.”

  He waggled his eyebrows and she laughed.

  “I guess it’s back to my apartment to get dolled up. Do you have a suit with you?”

  “I didn’t bring a suit.”

  “With your apartment a mess, it’s doubtful you’ll be able to get inside. We could probably get away with a nice pair of pants and a shirt.”

  “Then I’m set.”

  “Well, we better get going if we’re going to make it on time. I need a shower.”

  Back at Poe’s apartment, she ducked into the bathroom and Jared followed right behind her.

  “I thought we could conserve water and time,” he said, sending goose bumps all over her.

  “You think if we get into the shower all nakey we’re going to conserve time?”

  “If it’s a quickie.”

  “I don’t think we’re talking about the shower anymore,” she said turning away to flip on the water. She started to strip and his eyes deepened. The room started to fill with a steamy heat that was reflected in his eyes.

  Her arousal was almost instantaneous. They stepped inside under the hot spray. She kissed him hard, and he returned it with equal fervor. He tugged her hands from their grasp in his hair, and pinned them on the tile wall beside her head, then slowly slid them upward, until her body bowed away from the wall, pressing her belly, and the aching, throbbing tips of her nipples against the hard planes of his water-slicked chest.

  He crossed her wrists, and said, “Leave them there.” Then he slid his hands down her arms. His gaze flicked to hers, then down at her elevated breasts and her thoughts scattered instantly at the touch of his warm, wet velvety mouth.

  He sucked, and she felt that tugging, pulling sensation all the way down to her sex. She couldn’t stop the soft, breathless groans that tumbled one after the other.

  She gasped and arched into him, the exquisite sensations spearing through her, rendering her speechless as well as mindless.

  After protection, he slid slowly, fully, and completely into her.

  “Hold on to me,” he commanded, the words more growl than anything.

  She reveled in the feel of him against her…like no man she’d ever met, his skin, his mouth, his chest, it was all about this man.

  Jared.

  Despite being eager for him, she sucked in a startled breath as her inner muscles clamped tight around him. His eyes flared wide in response, giving her a brief glimpse of passion, heat, and something else warring in their hot, moss-green depths. Before she could analyze that last emotion, before she could dwell on the initial pleasure of being thoroughly consumed by him, he began to move, his body undulating and grinding against hers as he increased his rhythmic pace.

  A low, throaty, on-the-edge moan escaped him, and he crushed his mouth to hers, kissing her with a desperate, fierce passion that caught her off-guard. His tongue swept into her mouth, matching the rapid, pistoning stroke of his hips and the slick, penetrating slide of his flesh into hers.

  Tremors radiated through her from the sensitive spot where they were joined so intimately. She felt thoroughly possessed by him, body and soul, in a way that defied the short span of time she’d known him.

  Pushing those thoughts from her mind, she concentrated on the pleasure he gave her, and how alive he made her body feel. Running her hands down the slope of his spine, she locked her legs tighter around his waist to pull him closer, deeper, and abandoned herself to a stunning orgasm.

  This time, he was right there with her when she reached the peak of her climax. Groaning, he broke their kiss and tossed his head back, his hips driving hard, his body tightening, straining against hers.

  “Poe.” Her name whispered between his clenched teeth as his body convulsed with the force of his release.

  When the shudders subsided, Jared lowered her gently and panted as he still supported her under her arms. He braced his forearms on the tile, while she peppered kisses over his face.

  He was shaking as he slid from her body and let her legs drop from around his waist. He rolled them both so his back was against the tile, and he held her tightly against him as they fought for breath. Her knees were woozy, her muscles pliant, on the verge of uselessness.

  It was long moments when it registered the water had grown tepid. It actually felt good on her overheated skin, but she blindly reached down and turned the lever off. Jared made no move to leave, or to let her go. And she made no move either. The steam slowly dissipated as their heartbeats eased to a somewhat steadier rhythm. It was the only thing steady about her at the moment.

  It felt good, she decided, being in his arms. Held so tightly. It wasn’t like her to accept that from anyone, most especially in a moment like this. She’d fought so long and hard for independence, it had carried over to all aspects of her personal life, including intimacy. But he’d shattered all that, and it was hard to pick up those pieces and reset them. And there was that strange unsettled feeling again. It seemed to crawl inside her and give her the jitters.

  He must have been in tune with her, because he tightened his hold slightly, then slid his hand up to tip her chin up.

  “Woman…”

  “You are so articulate.” The look in his eyes, a little stunned, but a lot tender, kept her from teasing him.

  He just shook his head.

  He gathered her closer, settling her between his legs, so she was pressed against the full length of him, chest to chest, hip to hip. The soft places on her easing against all the hard planes of him.

  “So, is there going to be food at this thing?”

  “It’s all about hard-ons for you, either for me or for food.”

  “That’s all I need, darlin’”

  “I’m sure there will be finger foods.”

  He groaned. “I hate damn finger food. It takes a whole damn platter to even make a dent.”

  She finger combed the wet silk of his hair, sm
iling into his twinkling eyes.

  “Cowboys need their grub, especially after roping themselves a little filly.”

  He threw his head back and laughed, the rumble vibrating against her chest. This was sweet bliss.

  “That’s right, a cowpoke can work hisself up to a powerful hunger.”

  She simply had to have his mouth one more time. She slipped one arm around his waist and cupped the back of his neck, pulling his head down to hers, and kissed him with heat and passion that seemed to grow every time she touched him. Her hands then came to rest on his slick, bare chest, and her mouth seduced his until he finally gave her what she wanted—a soft, surrendering sigh.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jared stood just inside the doorway of the Crossings Gallery, looking at all the people who had come for the show, watching the crowd, and trying not to be completely blown away by what had happened in the shower only a little while ago.

  Poe.

  He was getting more and more worried, because he could not figure out how he was going to handle this assignment without losing her. How he could follow his gut—and yeah, his heart—and still stay focused enough to take care of business, protect Poe, and protect Harper’s confidences.

  “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Poe said from just in front of him. The woman wearing the most incredible little black dress. But leave it to Poe to make a statement. The back of it was sheer except for the outline of a skull. Her dark pageboy was a crazy, curly mess, and she’d accented her lips in kissable cherry red that matched the sandals with the delicate chiffon roses.

  Grinning death and tantalizing roses. Only Poe could make that work.

  And the angel wing earrings were whimsical, and skull-studded knuckle ring evening bag—unpredictable, just like her.

  There were about thirty people in the gallery. But as he moved deeper inside, he noticed the towering sculptures fastened to the ceiling and displayed on great hooks around the room. The work was incredible. Imposing. Great ribbons of complex interwoven fabric mixed with yarn and rope swayed from intricately bent iron and steel, cast bronze, and copper pipe, each ten to fifteen feet high.

  “That macramé is pretty amazing.”

  Poe chuckled. “It’s not macramé.”

  “What is it, then?”

  “Fiber art. Harper’s brother did it.”

  He almost…almost blurted out Aiden’s name, but Poe didn’t know he knew Aiden, that the buddy who’d saved his life was Aiden.

  “Are you shitting me?”

  “Nope. It’s Aiden’s. See how they’re all about strength and subtlety, holding tight and release, force and compliance, life and death?”

  He didn’t know jack about any of that. He did see the dichotomy of the soft paired with hard, weak and strong, stiff and flowing, and it was freaking good.

  With some of them, pure sensuality rolled off the piece, like the angles of a woman’s form and some of them were a statement about violence, danger inherent in the composition. And, they evoked what art was meant to elicit—emotion, strong and deep, settling hard on his heart. Because he knew Aiden. He knew what it meant to struggle with what was inside, desperately looking for a way out. He ached that this man, his friend, who had gone to heartbreaking and heroic lengths was suffering in silence.

  He wasn’t going to live through this subterfuge. He could tell. But maybe he could live through the rest of this minute, and then he’d just hope for the best in the next. He really needed to make time to talk to Aiden.

  He’d made the right decision in protecting Poe. He knew that—but being right was getting harder.

  His gaze wandered over the expanse of the enormous piece in front of him. Hugely thick, knotty yarns, as big as his torso and infused with color, hung between a pair of polished copper spikes. According to the descriptive cards, some of the other pieces were draped with the finest woven linens and silks. Some were no more than strings of fiber, all of them constructed with regard to mass and structure, to the weave of the cloth and the properties of the metal. He wasn’t an idiot. He could see what was right in front of him. Aiden was struggling with his own demons.

  Then it dawned on him in that slow way a catastrophe sneaks up, little by dawning little until it rolled over him in one great gigantic wave of oh, shit!

  If Aiden was one of the artists, then it was only logical to assume that during the grand opening of the gallery, he would fucking be here.

  And there he was, headed this way.

  Shit. That’s all he needed as he watched his doom come towards him in sure, purposeful strides, since Aiden not only commanded attention, he commanded the whole room.

  Poe got swallowed up in the crowd as Jared backpedaled. Suddenly a hand clamped onto his arm and he was dragged sideways behind a gorgeous tapestry/screen thing.

  “What are you doing here?!” Harper hissed. “Aiden’s here, for God’s sake.”

  “Callie invited me,” he snapped back. “Why didn’t you tell me Aiden did this amazing crap?”

  “Because you would know that if you had visited him!”

  “I’m sensing some hostility here, Harper. I couldn’t have known he was going to be here.”

  “I’m not mad about that. Well, I am, but it’s a 50/50 mad.”

  “I’m about to lose something very important here. What are you 50/50 mad about?”

  “You slept with Poe. What were you thinking?! This was a simple assignment. Protect her, then get out of her life without her the wiser. How did this happen?”

  “I don’t know! It just happened. The minute I saw her I knew I was in trouble. I tried to tell you the night I almost got caught in your penthouse. If I remember correctly, you were the one who insisted I get inside her apartment.”

  Harper leaned against the wall, looking classic and cool in a pair of black leather shorts, legs long and sleek with a white silky see-through top over an elaborately beaded black bra. Her blonde hair was pulled into a severe ponytail that reached to the middle of her back. She looked rich and untouchable…and he’d never seen the woman look so unhinged.

  “She’ll never forgive me for this. It’s a disaster!”

  “Forgive you? She’s going despise me. I’ll be lucky if she ever talks to me again.” His gut churned with a mix of guilt, alarm and helplessness. He’d felt this before and the thought of losing Poe was just like what it felt like to lose his life, to have failed his comrades, to have slowed down and, maybe, been the reason a courageous man wouldn’t make it. In this moment, all of that weighed heavily on him.

  “Well, for starters, we have to get through this gallery opening. I promised Emma. Let me find Aiden and fill him in. I’ve got a feeling he’s not going to be very happy with me, but he’ll back me…um…us up. He’s my brother after all, and he would never let a Marine buddy down.”

  He closed his eyes, his throat tight, he said, “Maybe I should just go.”

  “No! Poe would wonder why and we have to keep this under wraps. My private investigator is still working on it.” She touched his arm and, regardless of her fear for Poe’s safety, her compassion for him and for Aiden was there. She knew what she was putting him through and, maybe, just maybe, he saw some regret there.

  “We’re zombie food.”

  Harper let out a little hysterical giggle. “She really has affected you. I don’t think even bacon could fix this.” She closed her eyes. “I think I’m losing it. I wouldn’t change a thing about this even though this is hard for you, Jared. I know you’d never let anything happen to her.”

  He was already in too deep to find an easy way out at this point. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t want an easy out. He wanted Poe. “Take a deep breath and hurry up and tell him before he says that he knows me right in front of Poe. She’d put two and two together in a New York minute, and the jig would be totally, irretrievably up.”

  She nodded, grabbing a glass of champagne off a passing tray. She downed it in two seconds, clutched his shoulder when he tri
ed to get away, snatched another glass, and downed that too. “Stay here until I get back.”

  He stood there, concealed, mentally taking apart an M-16 and putting it back together to stay calm.

  Harper came back. She looked more composed. “Okay, I talked to him and he’s on board.”

  “Good.”

  “Well, not exactly. He’s royally pissed that I got you tangled up in this mess.”

  “He is?”

  “Jared, don’t go all bro crush on me right now. I don’t like Aiden when he’s angry. I especially don’t like him angry at me. But it’s Poe who’s important right now. She’s the one in danger.”

  “I need some air.”

  He needed more than air, but when he stepped outside it did help. He took a few steps down the darkened alley next to the entrance and leaned back against the building, letting his head fall back, pressing his body against the bricks.

  Impossibly, for a moment, he missed the military, the discipline, the routine. Then reason reasserted itself. What he missed was the sense of purpose he’d had, the certainty of what he was doing until…

  “Jared?”

  He let out a weary breath and pushed off the building. Fuck. He had to find a way to do this. Find a way to face Aiden.

  “Hey, Aiden.”

  Aiden Sinclair, the only son of the billionaire real estate mogul Harold J. Sinclair. Tired of being a party boy and constantly in the limelight as one of NYC’s beautiful people, Aiden had enlisted in the Marines against his father’s stringent protests. The man, desperate to save his one and only son, had even threatened to disinherit him, but Aiden had continued to defy his father, calling his bluff.

  Ice-blue eyes studied Jared from beneath a shock of golden blond hair. Looking at his six foot two lean form, Jared still marveled over how Aiden had carried him for close to six miles with a wounded hip and leg.

  The man had determination in spades.

  “You don’t have to hide from Poe. I’ve been initiated into the spy clubhouse. I got a neat decoder ring and everything.”

  Jared snorted and looked away.

  “My sister has a way of meddling in her friends’ lives. But she really means well. I’m sorry she drafted you into this goatfuck.”