A door slammed open. “Winston, baby, run!”
Cussing, Reaper lunged for Winston just as he glanced over his shoulder.
Winston’s gaze went to the woman in the white dress, and then swung back a second before Reaper grabbed the collar of his tux and swung him toward the ground.
Straddling the steps to cinch Winston’s thighs to keep from getting kicked, Reaper slapped on the cuffs, glancing up just in time to see a blur of blue speed past him.
The bride tossed her bouquet at Carly’s head then charged her like a linebacker. Both women went down, most of the action masked by voluminous white petticoats.
Winston stopped moving and lifted his head. “Damn, I’m gonna marry that girl.”
His groomsmen swarmed around them, fists clenched.
“Man, this is fucked up.”
“It’s his wedding.”
Winston lifted his head higher. “It’s okay, baby, don’t get yourself hurt.”
The bride pushed up and flipped her veil behind her head. “You ain’t supposed to look at me, jackass. It’s bad luck.”
“I’m already the luckiest man ever lived, Luann.”
Reaper rolled his eyes and shot a glare at the men moving in closer. “Unless you want to join him in a jail cell, keep back. Winston here didn’t make his court date. I have to take him in.”
Carly rolled to her knees, giving the bride a wary glance, and rubbed her jaw. “What do you say, Reaper? Can we let these two say their vows before we bring him in?”
He gave her a baleful glance. Of all the stupid ideas... Then he saw the big red mark marring her pretty cheek. “What the hell, Carly?” he roared. “I told you to stay the hell back!”
“Doesn’t sound like she follows order very well.” Winston snickered. “We both have some strong women.”
“She’s not my woman.” A muscle throbbed in his clenched jaw.
“Then why’re you so pissed?”
Reaper dragged himself up from the steps then reached down to grip Winston’s arm and help him to his feet. “I’m doin’ you both a favor.”
Winston sniffled. “Man, she’s the love of my life. We saved six months for this wedding.”
For fuck’s sake. The man was crying. Reaper shot a glance at Carly, whose mouth twitched. Was she laughing? He gave her a glare, which had her bending over and holding her stomach.
Damn, he knew she was already making mental notes for her damn book. But disheveled, and even with a big rosy bruise on her face, she was damn beautiful. “Fucking hell,” he muttered.
Chapter 3
After repeating the tale of the wedding fiasco twice to Brian, the luster was wearing off. Even the fact Reaper still muttered under his breath couldn’t keep Carly from yawning.
WhenWinston had broken down in tears and his bride knelt in front of him, holding him while he leaned into her sturdy body, Reaper grudgingly agreed to let the wedding proceed.
Which meant Reaper and Carly joined the bridesmaids and groomsmen in the front of the church—Reaper to be ready to remove the cuffs so Winston could slide on the ring, and Carly to prevent Luann from attacking Reaper.
Sure, the tux was dusty and had a rip in one knee. Dark smudges marked the dress, and one of the ruffles on the skirt trailed behind the bride. Still, the wedding was strangely romantic, with the young couple standing close, tears in their eyes while they exchanged their vows.
Following the wedding kiss, Winston waited with his hands behind his back for Reaper to cuff him again, and then didn’t offer a single complaint as he was walked down the aisle.
His friends and guests had stood and cheered.
Brian chuckled again. “Hey, Reap. You must be getting soft in your old age, letting them get hitched.”
Jerking his head, Reaper grunted. “You got your paperwork. How about shutting your yap?”
Brian’s grin widened, and he turned to Carly. “You’ve got a bruise to match Reaper’s,” he said, pointing at her cheek.
“Thanks for reminding me,” she said, rubbing her sore face. “I don’t think there’s enough concealer in the world to hide this shiner.”
Reaper cleared his throat.
She turned toward where Reaper stood and raised a brow in question.
Reaper frowned. “You got a bag of frozen peas to put on that cheek? It helps...uh, with the swelling.”
His words were garbled, like they’d been dragged out into daylight. “No, I have a room at the Motel 6. No freezer. No peas.”
“Uh, I have some at my place,” he said, his gaze sliding away. “We could, um, pick up dinner. I’ll drop you at the hotel after.”
Brian’s eyebrows shot upward, and he quickly turned his chair and began typing on his keyboard.
Carly’s eyes widened, but she let her glance slide away. As reluctant as he appeared, she didn’t want to give him a chance to rescind the invitation. Maybe she could figure out how to get on his good side if they spent a little time alone, without being “on the job.”
Quickly, she bent to retrieve her rucksack. “Thanks. Um, that sounds good.” Great. Now both of them sounded really enthusiastic about the idea of prolonging their time together. However, she realized she really was. Her heart skipped faster as she rose from her chair. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Brian.”
Following Reaper through the office and out the door, she couldn’t help noticing the breadth of his shoulders or how sexy the long ponytail looked against his black leather jacket. Outside in the parking lot, she looked at her car. “I could follow you.”
“No need. Back roads,” he muttered, moving toward his vehicle. “You might get lost comin’ back. Fetch’d have to send out search parties.”
An exaggeration, she was sure, but now she was curious about why he’d made the offer in the first place. It wasn’t like their conversations throughout the day had been leading to this awkward moment.
Keeping silent, she followed him to his SUV and climbed up into the cab. They drove through a fast-food window to get burgers, and then made the twenty-minute drive to his place in silence. Too dark to see her surroundings, she had impressions of dark roads and narrow gravel tracks. The SUV made several turns in the middle of the boonies until, at last, he pulled to a halt in front of a surprisingly spacious cabin. Two stories of log cabin with a wide front porch but without much of a yard. The forest came to the edge of a rough clearing.
When he opened his door, she did the same and followed him inside. A flick of the light switch had her blinking. She’d half-expected the walls to be rough-hewn logs as well, but the interior was a mixture of drywall and rock. The floors were a pretty golden oak. The space didn’t hold an overabundance of furnishings, but what was there looked comfortable.
Reaper waved her toward a dark brown leather sofa.
Gratefully, she sank onto the cushion and continued to look around. The walls were painted a pale sage. A plain, nubby rug in eggplant sat beneath a rugged walnut coffee table. The colors surprised her. The attention to the decor—each piece in perfect synchrony but never matching. Fetch had made no mention of a wife, so Carly wondered if Reaper had a live-in girlfriend. The thought disappointed her. She bit back a sigh.
His footsteps returned. Reaper leaned over the sofa to extend a frozen bag of peas, already loosened.
Taking the cold bag, she held it to her cheek and winced.
“Keep it there for a while. The bruise won’t hurt as bad.”
“This the same bag you used on your cheek?” she asked.
He grunted and turned on his heel, returning with a tray holding plates with their burgers and chips. Condiments and knives sat to the side.
“Oh, thanks,” she said, laying aside the bag to reach for her plate. “Didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
Taking his seat, he mumbled, “Should have packed some food for the stakeout. Didn’t think to run into a shop.”
“Was that almost an apology?” she teased. When she met his gaze, she blinked.
His gaze was narrowe
d but not in anger. His gaze was...assessing. At the intensity, she swallowed. “You always this quiet?”
“I talk.”
“To girls?” she quipped.
He arched a brow. “To my partner. Friends.”
She narrowed her eyes before she pushed her point again, “Not to girls?”
“No need,” he said, taking a bite of his burger.
As she dug into her meal, she could well imagine what a date with Reaper would be like. A drink in a bar. His hand wrapping around his “date’s” as he led the way to his car. No conversation, indeed. And she understood how a woman might fall in with that. The man was a rugged, well-built hunk. His surliness was its own sexy challenge. But that appeal wasn’t why she was here.
“You write books.”
At least he was speaking in three-word sentences. “I do. Romances, as you so cleverly surmised.”
“Why bounty hunters?”
She understood what he was asking in his brusque way. “I’ve written cowboys, Navy SEALs, cops, and firefighters. I wanted something different. Heroes who operate a little outside the law. Men with rougher edges,” she said, then pressed her lips together, because she’d just described him.
He grunted and took another bite of his burger. He chewed the bite twice and swallowed. “You handled yourself...all right...for someone who sits at a desk all day...”
She laughed.
He gave her a scowl. “What’d I say that’s so damn funny?”
“I’ve only been writing full-time for about two years. Before that, I was in the Army.”
He looked at the ceiling and drew a deep breath. “That where you met Fetch?”
Straightening, she gave him a grin and a mock salute. “Sergeant Wyatt, at your service.” She waggled her eyebrows. “So, I do know how to hit what I aim at.”
They finished their meal in silence.
A more relaxed silence. She couldn’t help noticing the glances he darted her way every now and then. She liked that she’d surprised him. Between bites, she looked at him as well. And what she saw made her pulse ratchet up a few notches. Reaper’s manners might be a little rough around the edges, and he didn’t have a clue how to talk to a woman, but she rather liked those qualities. That he was built like a god—tall, broad, with muscles stretching his shirt and jeans—made her cheeks grow a little flushed. She cleared her throat. “I’m thinking Fetch likes to hire ex-military.”
He nodded. “My partner, Jamie, and Brian served in his unit.”
“And you...?”
“I was a marine,” he bit out, his eyebrows lowering.
Sensing that was not a topic for discussion, she gave him a little smile. “I think I’ll save the rest of my questions so we’ll have something to talk about tomorrow.”
“You finished?” he asked, glancing at her empty plate.
“Yeah.” She glanced at her watch and noted the late hour. “I’ll need that ride back to town.”
“Need another bag of peas?”
His gruff voice rasped across her skin, and her face flushed hotter. I need to get out of here. I couldn’t stand him this morning, and now I’m wanting to jump his bones? “No peas,” she said breathlessly. “I just need some rest.”
When she stood and bent to pick up her plate, he waved a hand. “I’ll take care of that. Let’s go.”
Was he in a hurry to get rid of her? Her pride smarting, Carly grabbed her knapsack and followed him to the door. “You have a really nice place.”
“It’s a work in progress. You should see the upstairs...” He frowned and shot her a glance.
His expression was like he just realized the only way that might happen was if he invited her to bed. She couldn’t help it; she laughed. “I promise, if I get a chance to see it, I won’t judge.” Then she pressed her lips together, because his eyes narrowed. Neither of them were thinking that “it” referred to his bedroom.
His lips twitched. “Sweetheart, if you see it, you’ll be impressed.”
Five minutes later, Reaper was still grinning. Carly’s face had gone beet-red when they’d traded innuendos. And from the glances they’d exchanged, he knew she was as interested as he was to follow through on the flirtation. But he was afraid to make the first move in case he said the wrong thing.
She shifted in her seat, angling her body toward his. “Maybe we should just get it over with,” she said, her voice a little high-pitched.
A pang of disappointment had him frowning. “You don’t want to ride with me?”
She let out a loud breath. “I mean...” She drummed her fingers on the door beside her. “Maybe...we should just...do it.”
The words were spoken so quickly, he wasn’t sure he’d heard right. He aimed a glance her way, but he couldn’t see her expression in the dark. His eyebrows shot upward. “Did you just say...?”
She blew out a breath and looked out the side window. “We’ll both be more relaxed.”
“You’re asking me to fuck you?”
“Yeah.” She nodded fast. “Let’s fuck. We’re adults. I’m...attracted. I think you are, too. We have to spend the next week together, and I can’t imagine how the hell I’ll keep my mind on the job when I—”
“Shut up a second, okay?” He shifted his position. The way she talked—so quick and breathless—had his dick stirring. “Hell, lady, you always move this fast?”
She waved a hand. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have blurted that. Forget I said it.”
His blood pounded in his ears. “Not possible. I’m already a walking hard-on.”
“Really?” Both eyebrows shot upward.
He gave her a stern frown. “Want to check?” he gritted out, a little indignant she was so quick to withdraw the offer.
A hand glided over his thigh and right between his legs.
“Motherfucker,” he whispered before he gritted his teeth.
“Not the word I would use.” She chewed her lip and bunched her eyebrows. “Didn’t expect it to be so proportional.” Her hand cupped him through his jeans and ran down his length and back up. “We’ll need condoms. Jumbo-sized.”
“Got ’em back at the house.”
“I’ll need clothes for the morning.”
“I’ll pull up outside your motel door. You got your key handy?”
“Only take a minute.”
Feeling like a teenager getting his first feel of a girl’s southern parts, he wasn’t sure he’d last long enough to make the drive back. “Might have one in my wallet.” He steered into the Motel 6 parking lot, his grip tight on the wheel.
“Room’s around the left side. Second door.”
So he goosed the gas, because he was getting nervous. Before he came to a halt, she’d opened the car door. He hit the button to kill the engine and yanked down his door handle. He was behind her, his hands on her hips before she finished opening her door.
Once he’d stepped all the way inside, he kicked the door shut then set her away from his body. “Get those clothes off.”
“Yeah. Sure,” she said, not turning, but her shirt went flying a second later. So did her bra.
Watching her toeing off her boots reminded him he’d better not leave her waiting. He dragged off his clothes, nearly toppling when he tried to pull feet from his boots at the same time he pushed down his pants.
At last, they were both nude. His gaze roamed her sturdy frame—a narrow waist, lush hips and ass. With his thumb and forefinger, he ringed the base of his cock and closed his eyes, willing his dick to relax a little. Otherwise, he’d shoot his wad the second she turned.
He heard rustling at his feet and peeked downward. Carly was on her knees, turning out his pockets. After she palmed his wallet, she flipped it open and went right to the space behind his ID.
When she pulled out the condom, she glanced up and waved it. “Got it!” Then her glance went to his dick. “Holy fuck,” she said, eyes rounding. A little line appeared between her brows.
“I’ll fit,” he growled. “No changi
n’ your mind now.”
Smiling, she held up a finger. “Just a sec, okay?” She moved closer and shifted onto her knees. Her hot breath gusted against him, and his cock jerked.
“Don’t even think about it,” he warned, his voice rasping. “I’m gonna blow.”
“You keep holding what you’re holding. I’ve never had something that big inside my mouth.”
A laugh caught him by surprise. He liked how blunt she was. How honest—without sounding any less a lady. “Look, we fuck quick. Gather your things and check you out. We can take our time at my place.”
Her gaze tilted upward.
“Swear to God,” he whispered. “With your face that close to my dick...” He’d never seen anything sexier than her slitted eyes peering up at him, her mouth half-open.
“Okay,” she whispered. She held out the condom. “My hands are shaking too hard.”
He made quick work of the condom and lifted his chin toward the queen-size bed. “Sit on the edge and lie back.”
Nibbling her lip, she shook her head. “I’m already wet.”
His pulse ratcheted up. “And I’m still bigger than you’ve ever had. Do it.”
She sat on the edge, her knees together, her breasts quivering with her ragged breasts.
He nearly groaned. Her breasts were on the generous side, round and rose-tipped. The tips were beaded, poking upward like they begged for a mouth to suck them like a straw.
He moved closer and went to his knees, then slid his hands between her thighs and pressed to gently coax them open.
But they remained tightly closed.
He glanced at her face. Her eyes were wide, and her nostrils flared. Her pupils had nearly devoured the pretty whisky-brown irises. “Changing your mind?”
“You told me it was already too late,” she said, her jaw tight.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked slowly, thinking if she said yes, he might cry.
Instead of speaking, she reached out and tentatively placed her hands on his shoulders, then smoothed her palms down his upper arms. She squeezed as she went, and her gaze followed her motions shifting side to side. “You’re in some kind of shape,” she whispered.
Reaper (Montana Bounty Hunters Book 1) Page 3
