Carrie hadn’t had her sister to turn to the first time around. She hadn’t had anyone at all. And although, right now, she was scared down to her toes, it was different this time. She was different—older, smarter, and hell, meaner, too.
And she wasn’t alone.
She wasn’t alone, and she wasn’t going to hide. She was, by God, going to do something to bring this chapter of her life to a close.
No more hiding in the past, and no more hiding the truth from herself.
Carrie considered Adam for a moment. “You asked me about my driver’s license. I take it that means he somehow got his hands on the records at the DMV? Found out where I had been living through them?”
“That’s what the police think, yes. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“Maybe you should tell us everything that’s happened—and everything you know about George Lockwood.” She paused and met first Chase’s gaze, and then Brian’s. “And then, I think we need to figure out what kind of a trap we’re going to set for this bastard.”
“Damn it, Carrie.” Chase looked ready to punch something. “If you think for one minute we’re going to let you offer yourself up like some kind of a red flag to an ornery bull, you’ve got another think coming.”
“I’m not offering anything.” She didn’t know where this resolve was coming from, but God, it felt so much better than the fear. “I’m trusting you, and the sheriff—hell, I’m trusting this whole damn town—to keep me safe. But if that bastard found me once through the DMV, he’ll find me again. Not if, Chase, but when. So let’s all put our heads together and see what we can do to catch this son of a bitch.” Because Chase still had her hand, she used it to bring his hand to her lips and kissed it. Then she brushed her cheek against Brian’s hand that rested on her shoulder.
“I want to get on with my life. Please help me do this thing.”
Chapter 16
When he looked into the mirror, George didn’t recognize himself anymore. This was a good thing. If he didn’t recognize himself, sure as hell the cops wouldn’t recognize him, either. The hair dye he’d picked up before he left Dallas had done a good job turning his blond hair brown. The mustache he’d grown felt foreign to him, and the glasses, though clear, felt strange. But all in all, they worked.
The car he’d stolen in order to leave Dallas had gotten him as far as the rural area outside of Tyler before he’d ditched it in the dead of night.
He’d set fire to it, and watched as it burned, and felt confident that there’d be nothing left to tie the stolen vehicle to him.
George’s confidence was at an all-time high, because he continued to receive proof from God that his was a righteous quest. After burning the car, he’d set out walking but then the idea had come to him suddenly that he should thumb a ride into Tyler and see what he could do about putting his hands on a another car. He’d heard in prison how, if a dude just had the dinero he could buy damn near anything he wanted, under the radar. He certainly had lots of money, thanks to Pastor Jack.
George had no sooner stuck his thumb out, when a pickup truck had driven up, and then stopped. The man who’d given him a ride had been a rancher, one who had nothing good to say about the government. He was especially rabid in his views on regulations and licenses and what he called the interference of the godless bureaucrats in Austin and Washington in the everyday lives of God-fearing, hardworking patriots. George had quickly crafted a tale of how he’d lost his license because of a parking fine, and now he couldn’t even buy a car, even though he’d saved up money to do just that.
The rancher had dropped him off in town at the home of a “friend” who’d hooked him up with a nice, nondescript Ford Taurus. For an extra five hundred, the guy had also produced a fake driver’s license for him, photo and all.
Now he understood why he’d grown that mustache, and bought those glasses and that hair dye and applied it when such a thing had never occurred to him before. The hand of God was in everything that had happened to him since he’d left Dallas, and he believed more strongly than ever before that it was only a matter of time before he found his woman.
He looked in the mirror one more time. Now he was George Smith of Tyler, Texas—according to his new driver’s license. Everything was coming together for him.
Might not be a bad idea to get myself a gun, too. He’d damn near busted his hand when he’d beaten the shit out of that little asshole he’d found in Carolyn’s apartment. He looked down at his knuckles. He’d split one, but it was healing. He’d iced his hands before he’d left that apartment, and then again as soon as he got himself this room in Tyler. He really didn’t mind the pain. A sense of satisfaction and pride filled him when he remembered what it felt like beating that little prick.
George had learned how to fight dirty in prison, and he’d learned it at the end of some fucker’s fists. He nodded once, jerkily. He’d had the punishment coming, then. He’d been stupid, before, going off on that little bitch so that he’d gotten his ass hauled off to jail in the first place.
He’d learned his lesson. He wouldn’t be stupid again.
He thought back on that kid who’d been at Carolyn’s place. Timmy. What kind of a real man called himself Timmy? He’d come to believe the weasel’s pathetic cries, just before he’d passed out for the last time. Timmy-boy said he had no idea who Carolyn was. George thought he’d have been able to get results faster if he’d had a good old nine millimeter pointed in that little bastard’s face. His hands wouldn’t be so fucking sore, either. George grinned. Maybe he needed the pain. He’d needed it to bring him to the next step. Yes! The pain was good, because he’d taken action, he’d battled, and he’d won. Soon, very soon now, he’d win it all.
It had been a few weeks since he’d left Huntsville, but George had been very careful with his money. He had enough to last him a good long time—at least until he found Carolyn, and got them settled somewhere. All he needed was his woman, and everything would work out. They’d get themselves a piece of land, grow crops and kids. No one would look for her—she was just a woman, after all. A woman who had no folks to take care of her. That was why God had given her to him. His sweet little innocent Carolyn needed him. He would take care of her. He would protect her and provide for her and in return she would honor him and obey him. She would be a dutiful wife.
But he had to find her, first.
Shame on her for moving and not filing a change of address notice with the DMV. Though of course, the problem could more likely be laid at the state’s doorstep. Maybe she did file it and they were just being lazy asses getting everything processed. Yeah, now that he thought about it, it likely was the fault of some lazy file clerk.
Now that he had this room at a motel that offered free Wi-Fi, and a part-time job working under the table, sweeping up and cleaning at the bar across the street, he could hunker down and find his woman.
George sat on the bed with the computer on his lap and started working. He’d learned a lot from the course he’d taken in prison. And he’d learned a lot from talking to another inmate, and making contact with a friend of his online.
He wondered if Bubba had figured out yet that he’d lied when he’d promised to help him get out early in return for all the help that con had given him?
Bubba had told him that where there were records and agencies, there could be manipulation, and that good ol’ boy had come up with a fine plan to work that particular kind of magic to his own advantage. Unfortunately for Bubba, since he’d been in prison for doing some of those very same things using a computer and the Internet, the authorities weren’t letting him anywhere near modern technology.
A soft “ding” sounded and George quickly brought up his e-mail account. His heart started to pound when he realized that one of the little alerts he’d set up had just paid off. He hacked into the state’s DMV database. A smile bloomed on his face as he read the file update just posted.
Scrambling for his pen and the miserly pad of
paper supplied by the motel, he copied down the information.
Despite being excited to finally have a lead, he took the time to wipe out any trace of his incursion.
Once he was out of that system, he pulled up Everywhere Earth and began to search. He found the location straight off, though from what he could see from the satellite imagery, it didn’t look like much of a town—barely a blip on the map.
He closed that and began a search trying to learn all he could about his woman’s new location. There wasn’t much online, just a few mentions here and there. The town had a website but again, he didn’t learn a whole lot.
Of course what he needed to know he wouldn’t find in any database or on any website. “Tell me, Carolyn, what the hell are you doing in a place called Lusty, Texas?”
George figured he’d have all of his questions answered soon. She probably hadn’t been there for very long. He recalled how shy and withdrawn she was. He also knew how folks in small towns were. They doubtless looked at her as some sort of interloper. She likely had no friends, and sure as hell no one would care two bits about her. That, really, was perfect. She had been perfect. Perfect for him.
No one would give a shit for her, and while they wouldn’t be very welcoming to him—another newcomer—they wouldn’t give a rat’s ass that he was in their midst. He’d shop at their general store, if they had one, eat at their restaurant, buy gas at their gas station, and that would likely be enough to get them to leave him be.
Small town, or large city, didn’t matter. People were all for themselves anymore, and didn’t care one damn about anyone else.
George nodded. All he had to do was map the location and do a little more research. Now that he knew where she was, he had a little time. George Lockwood, after all, no longer existed. He was George Smith, a man free and clear. George smiled. It would just be another few weeks, time enough to do some shopping, and some planning, and get it all set in his mind. No more going off on a tangent. Doing that had landed his ass in jail. He’d learned his lesson. He’d be a little patient, and then he would get his ass to Lusty, and put his hands on his woman.
* * * *
She felt the tension in her men all during the drive from the restaurant to home. Sitting between them on the bench seat of Chase’s pickup felt like sitting between two slabs of granite. Carrie smiled. Well, two slabs of granite that radiated heat and a combined aroma that made her mouth water and her juices flow.
“Julián is heading over to Peter’s for the afternoon and evening.”
Chase’s words might have sounded like a non sequitur to anyone else. But to Carrie they sounded like a warning and a promise all rolled into one.
“Is that a fact?” She slid Chase a sly glance and licked her suddenly dry lips.
“That is a fact, darlin’.” Brian nodded. Then he turned his head and looked at her.
She met his gaze and her nipples hardened into tight little points. He nodded again, looked down at her chest, and then met her gaze once more.
“We didn’t want you to feel like you needed to muffle your cries,” Chase said. “The first time we fuck your ass.”
“And we didn’t want to feel restricted in where we took you, either. Not today.” Brian let his gaze roam her body. “We’re gonna nail you as soon as we you get inside that house. Guaran-damn-tee it.”
Carrie understood these two cowboys. The need to nurture and protect was in their blood. Faced with a situation they couldn’t handle all on their own, that need had become a fever in them both, demanding immediate relief.
Oh yes, she understood them completely and loved them absolutely. Their care of her was what had melted her heart in the first place. How could she not return it full measure? They took such joy in giving her everything she needed.
High time, she thought, that she returned that favor. “Why wait?” Carrie figured she should get them as fired up as they’d just gotten her. She’d never been so hot, so horny. Their words always inflamed her, but this time they positively ignited her arousal. If they’d sucked her and fingered her for a half hour, she wouldn’t have been this high or this ready to combust.
“Was that a dare, sugar?” Chase’s tone sounded conversational, but she knew better. He put the truck’s turn signal on, and then drove the vehicle into the ranch’s driveway. He navigated the gravel lane carefully, as if he had all the time in the world.
“Maybe.” She leaned back and stretched, pushing her chest out. Then she gave her hips a seductive little roll. “Then again, maybe not.” She shrugged and splayed her hand on her bare knee, then trailed it up her thigh, raising her skirt as she did so.
She’d never deliberately teased a man before and wanted to crow that she seemed to be doing such a damn fine job now, so coquettishly teasing the two of them.
Yep, she was doing a good job if the way Chase just hissed out a breath through his teeth was any indication. Inside her, all her randy hormones were doing a rousing dance in celebration.
Chase brought the truck to a gentle stop not far from the steps that led up to the porch. Carrie’s female bits quivered in anticipation as she sat, silently, waiting to see what would happen next. She felt Chase and Brian turn to look at each other, doing their twin-psy communication thing, and kept her gaze on her hands, folded demurely in her lap.
Both cab doors opened at the same moment, and both men stepped out of the truck together.
“Come here, darlin’.” Brian’s usually deep voice had dipped even lower and Carrie took one second to close her eyes and savor that shiver that tickled along her spine. Then she inched across the seat toward the passenger door, turned so that she faced him with her feet hanging out the cab, and slid gently to the ground, ending up more or less trapped between her lover and the truck.
He met her gaze, the tiny smile that teased the corner of his mouth full of male smugness. God, I love that look. She dared not let female society at large know, but when her cowboys got to acting all alpha male, it just made her melt into a puddle of gooey need.
“Turn around, and put your hands flat on the seat.”
Carrie did as bid and bit back a moan when Brian’s hands caressed her bottom through her prim and proper work skirt. She expected him to go ahead and unfasten the black A-line garment, but he surprised her. Instead, he slipped her T-shirt out of the waistband of her skirt and raised it to just above her breasts.
Then he did the same thing with her skirt, raising it until it was bunched around her waist. Beneath her clothes, her simple cotton bra and panties were all that stood between his gaze and her bare flesh. The weather being too hot by far for panty hose or stockings, Carrie tended to keep her attire at work simple, just wearing the two layers.
She felt and heard movement behind her. Brian released the clasp that held her bra closed, and her breasts fell free, the warm summer air kissing her nipples, making them even harder than they had been.
She heard a metal clicking kind of sound. Brian said, “We’ll buy you new ones, darlin’.”
Before Carrie could even wonder what he meant, she felt something thin and cold slide between her hip and her bikini panties on her left side.
One sharp tug was followed by another on her right side, and her sliced, cotton panties were in Brian’s hands.
Carrie gasped, but he moved quickly, using his pocket knife to slice the straps of her bra.
“Hold still.” He reached in front of her and pulled her T-shirt all the way up. But instead of taking it off her completely he just pulled the neck of it over her head. Her arms were still in the short sleeves of the shirt, but her breasts stood exposed to the world.
She felt him step back, and then he caressed her naked ass. “Mmm, look at that. Now that is fucking beautiful. I love your ass, and I’m going to have it very, very soon. But I need your cunt, first. Spread those sexy legs for me a little, Carrie.”
Shaking with lust, Carrie wasted no time doing as she was told. She heard the sound of his zipper, and the tearing of
a foil packet.
“Lean over the seat more, oh, yes, just like that. Just let me feel you…oh, Carrie, your pussy is so damn wet for me.”
The sensation of his fingers stroking her slit, dipping into her pussy, and spreading her juices on her pussy lips made her arousal sizzle. She couldn’t stop herself from flexing her inner muscles, as if she could make her climax come just from that exercise alone.
Brian leaned over her. “I feel you working those sexy muscles of yours, darlin’. Feels like your cunt wants to gobble my cock whole. Are you hungry for it, Carrie? Is your cunt hungry for my cock?”
Carrie knew that anyone driving down the lane right now would get quite the show. Somehow, knowing there was a possibility that could happen just added more thrill into the mix.
Brian moved in closer and rubbed his condom-covered cock over her slit, back and forth, and Carrie moaned.
“Yes, Brian, my cunt is hungry for your cock. Please, babe. Fuck me.”
“How do you want me to fuck you, Carrie? Nice and slow and polite-like? Soft, like a gentle rain?”
Carrie knew what he wanted from her, and she gave it to him. “I want you to shove that monster cock of yours into my cunt and fuck me hard and fast and deep. I need you to grab my hair and my hip and pound into me over and over again. I want you to make me scream when I come.”
“Fuck, yeah. That’s what I wanted to hear.” Brian growled and then grunted when he grabbed her hair and her hip and thrust his cock into her in one solid stroke.
“Oh, yes!” Carrie loved all the sensations of being fucked. She loved the heat and the friction and the fullness. She loved the way Brian took her from behind, angling just right so that his cock brushed against her G-spot. She loved the sound of his flesh slapping against her flesh and the scent of sex, a scent that was a combination of their sweat and their juices.
She never knew she could be this woman, a woman who could revel in making love. But she was, and she did.
Covington, Cara - Love Under Two Cowboys [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 18
