Reaper (Montana Bounty Hunters Book 1)

by Delilah Devlin

  The awed tone dried his throat. He flexed a bicep and watched her flinch. “Open your legs, Carly.”

  Her grip tightened. She closed her eyes and her lips formed an O. Slowly, she inched apart her thighs.

  “Lie back,” he said, softening his voice to coax her along.

  Nodding, she let go of his arms and lowered to her elbows, then lay flat on the mattress.

  “Not dissin’ your tits, because they’re fucking beautiful, but want to eat you out, sweetheart.” He ran both hands over her thighs, savoring her smooth skin. “Have to make sure you’re ready for me. You play with your tits.”

  Her nose wrinkled. “You must think I’m being silly. I’m the one who propositioned you. I asked for this, but now, I’m a little...”

  He held still, wondering if he’d heard hesitancy in her voice. “You scared?”

  “Fuck no!” She opened her eyes.

  Her expression looked a little desperate. Reaper liked that look.

  “I’m...shaking. Too excited.”

  “I can work with that.” He smoothed his hands along her trembling inner thighs. “I like how fast this hit. It’s not like I haven’t seen a chick and had her bent over the seat of my Expedition five minutes later, but... I wouldn’t have cared if she’d decided to back out. Last minute.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You’d care if I did?”

  He nodded. “My balls ache.” He dropped his gaze to her pussy. Lord, she was bare. Her outer lips were a cool, pale pink. Her darker inner labia protruded from between them. His cock jerked. “I want inside that so bad my dick’s ready to burst.”

  “Stop worrying about getting me there, Reaper.” She cupped her breasts, splaying her fingers so the needy tips peeked between her fingers. Then she lifted her legs, toes pointing toward the ceiling, before she let them fall apart.

  Her pretty lips parted, and he dove for them, sucking them into his mouth where he chewed and tugged and licked, until her head thrashed side to side. The taste of her, fresh and salty, exploded on his tongue.

  Then he forked his fingers and pulled up her folds, exposing her reddened clit. With his other hand, he drove a single digit inside her and swirled, relieved to find her inner walls drenched. When he bent to suck her clit, he thrust another finger inside, then pushed in and out while she gasped and hissed, and her pussy clenched around his fingers.

  “Damn, girl,” he whispered and rubbed his stubbled chin around her sex, abrading her delicate flesh. He withdrew and gripped her waist. “Move up the bed.” Only he didn’t give her time to do it on her own. He crawled over her legs and used his thigh against her pussy to push her upward. When they were in the center of the bed, he hooked his arms beneath her knees to raise them and looked down between their bodies. “Put me inside you,” he rasped.

  Her hands shook, but she gripped him and rubbed the tip of his cock up and down her folds, wetting it thoroughly, before placing it at her opening. Then she raised her gaze to meet his.

  Releasing her knees, he braced his hands on the mattress and eased inside, rocking forward and back, then giving a little side-to-side motion to work his way into her tight channel. He grimaced against the snug fit, worried because she felt so damn good and he wasn’t sure he’d last long enough to please her. Concentrating hard, he gauged her comfort and arousal by her changing expressions.

  Her eyes lost focus. Her mouth stayed open and rounded as her breathing grew more labored. Her breasts were hard, and she kept arching her back to rub the tips against his chest.

  So fucking sexy, he wished he could contort his body to suck on them while he fucked her, but no way was he leaving her slick heat. She was tight and wet, and he could feel little rolling convulsions caressing his dick from inside her. Damn. For sure, he wasn’t gonna last much longer. “Play with your clit, baby. I’m close.”

  She slid her hand between her legs, but reached past her clit to ring him with her fingers.

  Her touch gave him goose bumps. He moved in and out, letting her feel how big he was.

  Her mouth curved. “Think this is gonna work?” she whispered. “That we won’t be...thinking about this...all day tomorrow?”

  “I’ll just have to wear your ass out tonight, girl.”

  “Not a girl,” she said, pouting her mouth but narrowing her gaze. “Any girl ever tell you you’re a chauvinist?”

  “Yeah. Plenty.” He gave her an unrepentant grin.

  “Bet they did. Bet they didn’t care so long as you fucked them like this.”

  “You like it?” He watched her face as he changed the angle of his strokes.

  Her eyes rolled back. “God, yeah.”

  He lowered his body then slipped his hands under her ass and cradled their bodies closer, changing his strokes again, his thrusts shorter, sharper. “Your clit, baby,” he ground out.

  “Don’t need it,” she said, her voice thin.

  To make sure she got what she needed, he ground against her with every upward stroke.

  Her hands clawed at his back and dug into his ass. “Harder,” she said, grunting now every time he hammered.

  Suddenly, she went rigid, her head digging into the mattress, her lips baring her teeth. She cried out, her eyes widening as her orgasm shuddered through her body.

  His signal he could concentrate now on his own pleasure. He clutched her ass and hammered faster, getting breathless and growling. When his balls clenched, he shouted and rocked, the ebb and flow slowing as his balls emptied.

  How long he rested against her, he hadn’t a clue. He became aware of her fingertips stroking along his spine, of her legs relaxing, releasing their fierce grip around his hips. When he raised his head, he stared down into her pink face. Realizing he’d broken fucking protocol, he grimaced. “Sorry.”

  Slowly, she raised her eyebrows. “For what?”

  “For the fact I never kissed you.”

  Her lips twitched then stretched into a slow, sexy smile. “You’ve also never sucked my tits.”

  His body shook against hers. Then he opened his mouth to speak.

  She placed a finger over his lips. “Shush,” she said. “You weren’t dissing my tits. I know. And my mouth is still right here.”

  “You’re all right,” he said, wishing he had a glibber tongue. She deserved someone who could shower her with pretty compliments.

  “I’m better than all right,” she said, cinching tight her inner muscles to give his cock a squeeze.

  Groaning, he locked his gaze with hers. “You’ll stay with me this week...”

  “I like the way you don’t even ask,” she said, stroking his sides. “Not a rise in inflection or even a second of doubt in your tone.”

  “Glad one of us can speak.”

  She angled upward and kissed his cheek. “I’ve got plenty of words for both of us,” she whispered in his ear. “An entire vocabulary of nasty ones.”

  He grinned and came up on his elbows, then looked down between their bodies. “My dick doesn’t want to leave.”

  “I don’t want to wake up staring at this ugly ceiling. I’d rather wake up staring down at you.”

  Reaper didn’t need another nudge. He pulled free and rolled off the bed. “Get packed, woman. You’re comin’ home with me.”

  Chapter 4

  The next morning, Reaper worked in the office with Carly seated beside him as he followed leads for his next hunt.

  Brian gave them quizzical looks.

  Likely the office manager was curious about Reaper’s behavior, because he never hit the “soft” part of the job with so much enthusiasm. However, Reaper liked having Carly next to him and didn’t mind her many questions. He even let her handle a couple of the calls being made to his target’s former friends. So, maybe the fact they’d shared off-the-charts sex put him in a good mood. He wasn’t proud.

  Today, he was working on a more profitable case, having decided Carly wasn’t a total liability to an investigation. Plus, Fetch had called, pretty much demanding he take
the case. Dwayne Cummings, their target, was a three-time loser, whose bail had been set at a hefty $300,000. The timeline was running up on ninety days since Cummings had failed to show for his court date, which meant a friend of Fetch’s in a bail bonds business in Great Falls, would be liable for the entire amount of the bond if they didn’t find the bail-jumper soon.

  Which translated into plenty of incentive to run him down. If he and Carly brought him in, the agency earned ten percent. Of course, flattery had also gone a long way.

  “You’re the best I’ve got, Reaper,” Fetch said in his raspy, cajoling fashion. “And I know you’re without your right hand for the next few days, so I’ll send down Dag to help out. I want Cummings before A+ Bounty gets him. Jerry Owens bet me he’d get to him first. I don’t want that bastard winning—or snagging that thirty grand.”

  Reaper had raised an eyebrow. Fetch wasn’t a greedy man, so Reaper assumed Jerry had gotten under Fetch’s skin. Maybe Fetch’s agents in Kalispell had been beaten to the punch one too many times by A+’s agents. Reaper knew the feeling well.

  So, Cummings it was. The dirtbag was facing trial for aggravated manslaughter for hitting a pedestrian while being chased by the cops for a speeding ticket. If convicted, Cummings wouldn’t likely ever walk free again.

  He glanced at Carly, who busily jotted notes. “You do know if we get close to this guy, you can’t pull that same shit like yesterday.”

  Carly’s mouth twitched. “Since it’s unlikely he’ll have a bride bent on beating you with her bouquet, I think I’ll be okay hanging back.” Staring at the computer screen at Cummings’ mug shot, she wrinkled her nose. “Besides, this guy’s scary.”

  Brian hung up his phone and tore off the page with his notes. “I have an address for his girlfriend. Cummings’ mom gave her up. She’s pretty pissed he skipped. Her house and a family hunting cabin were listed as security on the bond.”

  “Thank God,” Reaper said, happy for an excuse to get away from the desk. He wasn’t great at squeezing for information over the phone. Flexing a little muscle in person was more his style. “Let’s ride.”

  Carly stuffed her notepad into her knapsack.

  “Good luck.” Brian held out the paper.

  Reaper swiped it as he walked past. “Thanks, bro. You get anything else, text it.”

  “Dag should be pulling into the parking lot any minute. Sure you don’t want to wait for him?”

  Reaper shook his head. “We’ll watch the girlfriend. See if she’s alone before we knock on the front door. Any sign of our guy, I’ll call in.”

  “Remember, Jamie said if she was needed, we can call. She’ll bring Sky.”

  “Good to know. If Cummings is there, and looks like he’s entrenched, I’ll call. Otherwise, I’d just as soon leave Jamie and Sky to their wedding shit.” He shuddered. “If I hear one more word about red velvet versus lemon cake, or she changes her mind again about the color of my damn cummerbund...”

  Brian laughed. “She finally talk you into being one of her bridesmaids?”

  Straightening, Reaper grunted. “I’m a bride’s guy.”

  “Guess that sounds better than a bro-maid.”

  Carly’s mouth stretched into a smile.

  But he would not be swayed. Reaper shook his head, and then said mournfully, “What woman doesn’t have a slew of girlfriends busting a gut to be a bridesmaid?”

  “Well, I’m happy to stand up with her,” Brian said, his gaze narrowing.

  “She could have eloped.” And save me all this fuss and drama.

  “Sky put down his foot on that one.”

  “But why involve me? I already witnessed the proposal.” Although he’d given his word, he’d just as soon sit in the audience

  Brian shook his head. “Get out of here. Find the girlfriend. I’ll send Dag along as soon as he shows up. Might also give Jamie a heads-up.”

  Reaper held open the door for Carly.

  She arched a brow. “Yesterday, you were ready to let it slap me in the face.”

  The door shut, and Reaper halted, facing her. “Yesterday, I wasn’t playing nice.”

  She moved closer and looked up into his face. “But, today, you are?”

  He gave her a mock scowl. “Only if you don’t get in my way and don’t get yourself hurt again.”

  A smile playing across her lips, she walked her fingers up the middle of his chest. “And if I do get in your way?”

  Reaper caught her fingers and gave them a squeeze. “Then I might still play nice, but only because I want more.”

  “Think if you let me get away with shit, I’ll be...nicer?”

  Shrugging, he grunted. “Well...yeah. That’s how it works with most women.” Reaper would never admit to a living soul how much he enjoyed this banter. Or her reactions when he said something that pissed her off—like now.

  She gave him a mean glare.

  “Did I offend you?” he drawled.

  “I think you offended all womankind.” She rolled her eyes.

  One corner of his mouth kicked up for a second, but then he wiped his expression of all humor. “Baby, I’m serious. We come up against Cummings, you stay in the car. He’s on his third strike. If caught, he’ll do hard time. From talking to his ex-wife, I learned he’s got a hair-trigger temper, and he will draw on me.”

  Her gaze turned solemn. “All right. I promise to be useless.”

  Later that morning, Carly watched as a black Dodge Challenger pulled up behind them. They were parked just down the street from Amanda Berthold’s house in Whitefish, in front of a vacant house with a FOR SALE sign. So Carly knew they weren’t about to be chewed out for sitting in front of anyone’s property. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she watched as a tall, broad-shouldered man exited the Challenger and sauntered their way. “We’ve got company.”

  “I know.” Reaper watched his side mirror.

  The tall, well-built man pulled open the back passenger door and slid across the seat. His gaze went first to Carly, narrowing then roaming her face and upper chest, then moved to Reaper who was scowling. “Guess we’re partners for this takedown,” the stranger said, reaching over the front seat to hold out his hand.

  Reaper shook it. “Looks like Fetch had to drag the bottom of the goddamn barrel.”

  Carly couldn’t tell by his tone whether he was joking or this was some kind of male-bonding activity—or just two guys pissing on top of each other. “I’m Carly,” she blurted. “Not his partner...obviously.”

  “Fetch said you’d be riding with Reap for the week—if he didn’t scare you off sooner. Said you served in his unit in the desert.”

  “Ex-Army MP,” she said, nodding.

  His hand extended toward her, and she shook it, despite the deep frown Reaper gave her.

  “He didn’t say you’d be pretty.”

  Reaper huffed a breath. “We’ve had eyes on Berthold’s house for over an hour.” He jerked his thumb toward Amanda’s house. “No movement. Her car’s in the garage.”

  The newcomer smiled. “So, we have plenty of time to get to know each other. Name’s Dagger, but all my friends call me Dag.” His gaze slid back to Carly.

  A sparkle lit his eyes when his gaze met hers. Had he noted Reaper’s disapproval? Did he think the big Swede was feeling a little possessive? Carly wasn’t sure why Reaper didn’t look happy. Might have had something to do with the fact Dag was one handsome man—like movie-star-handsome, with a chiseled jaw, dark brown hair, and green eyes—and a body like Dwayne Johnson’s. “So, is anyone else wondering why Fetch only hires pretty men?”

  While Dag sat back and laughed, Reaper rolled his eyes. “You don’t call a guy ‘pretty’ unless he’s wearing more makeup than you are,” Reaper muttered.

  Well, she wasn’t wearing much—only enough to hide the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep, the bruise on her cheek, and the beard burn around her lips. The little bit of eye shadow and lipstick was just to keep her from looking completely dead tod
ay. Not her fault someone wouldn’t leave her alone long enough to get her beauty rest.

  “He’s just pissed because I used to work for A+.” Dag smiled, answering her unspoken question. “I scooped his bounties a couple of times.”

  “You honeyed up to Brown’s wife to get his whereabouts,” Reaper said, disgust in his tone. “And you gave Spearitt’s mama chocolates.”

  “You use what you have, bro.” Dag flashed his white smile.

  Carly grinned. “I like this—and I can use it. A rivalry between two bounty hunters. Maybe a woman in the mix. A love triangle.”

  “You write porn?” Dag said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

  She chuckled, thinking it was a good thing she was immune to his charm, but enjoying it nonetheless. “Of course not.”

  “Damn shame. I could help you with the research.”

  Reaper let out a deep breath. “You two quit sexually harassing each other. We got movement.”

  Carly glanced out the front window to see a woman exit the house, carrying a handbag. She assumed the woman was Amanda, since the mother told Brian the girlfriend was a bleach blonde, and this woman had used at least two bottles of peroxide to obtain that particular shade of straw.

  Dag clapped the top of the seat. “I can keep an eye on the house for Cummings, if you two want to follow her.”

  “You do that,” Reaper said, not looking back as Dag opened his door.

  Dag gave her a wink then slammed the door and strolled back to his Challenger.

  As soon as Amanda backed out of her driveway, Reaper tapped his ignition and pulled onto the street.

  “Dag seems nice,” she said, watching him from the corner of her eye.

  He made a grumbly noise, then said, “I suppose he’s nice enough.”

  “I noted a little tension between the two of you.”

  “Like he said. He used to play with the opposition.”

  “You don’t seem like the kind of guy to hold a grudge.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then...”

  Reaper’s glance cut her way. “I didn’t want him sweet-talking you.”

  Pretty much what she’d thought all along. And the knowledge thrilled her. “You’re not used to it, are you?” she murmured.