Hoss: A Rough Romance

by Delta James

  Hoss snorted.

  “You just said upstairs you planned to stake your claim on her,” inserted Murphy.

  “I did and I am. We just need to figure this thing out.”

  “I hate to be the fly in the ointment, but what if she did it?” asked Adam softly.

  Hoss growled.

  Adam quickly continued, “Look, I don’t want to believe it, but more and more evidence is stacking up against her.”

  “I’d like to remind you that you’re the one that dragged me into this mess...”

  “That didn’t take a lot of work on my part. You should know, though, that in spite of the small doubt that keeps rearing its ugly head, I have continued to advocate for not pressing charges for her leaving the area in the middle of an investigation. But I need to be able to tell the D.A. that if we need to pick her up, we can.”

  Hoss was silent for a moment. He thought he heard a creak on the stairs, but when he strained to hear anything else was reassured that it was nothing.

  “I lost her once,” he said. “It took me more than twenty years to get her back. I’ll be damned if I’ll lose her again.”

  His statement hung silently between the four old friends.

  * * *

  Remi had forced herself to disobey him and get up. She needed to prove to him, his friends, and herself that she would not be cowed, not be used as his personal fuck toy. She could take care of herself. Running back to Texas, the place she thought of as home and the place she had always felt safest, and straight into Morgan Bishop’s arms, had been a colossal mistake. Hadn’t her father taught her that if you made a mistake, it wasn’t the end of the world; you merely made a course correction and moved on? That’s what she was doing.

  Quietly, she found her clothing; thank God her jeans, bra, and boots had made it. Her sweater had been lost somewhere along the way. She’d use his in the alternative. Checking the back pocket of her jeans, she was happy to locate her driver’s license as well as her debit card—she had ID and could get money.

  Getting dressed, Remi was reminded of the rigors her body had been subjected to over the past few days—driving straight through from Philadelphia, Hoss’s intense, almost violent lovemaking, riding horseback, the associated fear and repeated spankings had taken their toll. Her body protested any kind of movement and the fact that her brain kept reminding her that he had warned her to stay put and not doing so would have consequences. The fact that the warning also served as a trigger for her arousal was most disconcerting.

  Nevertheless, Remi was dressed and creeping down the stairs, when she overheard Adam raising the possibility that she was guilty and Hoss not immediately coming to her defense. She thought at least these men, and most especially Hoss, believed in her innocence. The part of the conversation that she heard reinforced her decision to go. Perhaps Hoss’ actions had deterred whoever was trying to kill her and pin poor Becca’s murder on her. At the very least, she knew she needed to make her escape, but to where? Without any discernable noise, Remi slipped out of the safe house.

  She found two SUVs behind one of the outbuildings and removed the starter relay from the one that had the least amount of gas. She grinned as she recalled learning how to disable a vehicle on a wild weekend after a cooking competition in Paris.

  Once the sabotage of one SUV was complete, Remi got into the other still-functional SUV, started it, put it in gear, and stomped on the gas pedal. She sped out from behind the building and down the driveway, looking in the rearview mirror only long enough to see the three men running out of the house. She allowed herself a brief grin as she pictured them trying to give chase in a vehicle that wouldn’t start.

  * * *

  The conversation, in its own way, was unsettling to say the least. Adam continued going over the mounting evidence against her. The most damning seemed to be that she was found alone with the body in a room that was locked from the inside.

  “Adam, there has to be a way. Were both rooms searched thoroughly?”

  “Absolutely. Top to bottom, including both closets. They took the lock assembly apart. It was functioning correctly, and no fingerprints were found that couldn’t be accounted for. There was no way for someone to have gotten out of that room while still leaving it locked with the night latch on.”

  He had to respect his men’s opinions, but refused to believe that Remi had killed anyone. He also knew that if by some wild chance she had done it, he was certain she would have had a good reason to do so. But, he decided, he needed to hear the truth from her, then they could make their plans. They ended the conversation with Adam; Yancy and Murphy set about enabling the security measures for the safe house.

  Hoss headed to the stairs with a smile on his face. The last two times he’d wanted the absolute truth out of Remi, he made her sit in his lap with his cock lodged deeply in her pussy. His cock started to stiffen at the prospect. He was becoming inordinately fond of feeling her sheath being snugged around his staff, especially when she climaxed and the spasms raced all up and down his length.

  He had just taken the first step when he thought he heard the faint sound of a motor. Yancy and Murphy raced out into the foyer and the three of them rushed the front door, flinging it open to spill out in front of the house just in time to see one of the SUVs flying down the drive. Hoss swore when from the roof of the SUV, a single fist with a defiant one-fingered salute appeared.

  “Offhand, I’d say your girl has yet to grasp both the severity of the situation and of royally pissing you off when she disobeys you,” said Murphy.

  Yancy ran back to the house and grabbed the other set of keys before rejoining them.

  “The next time I get my hands on her, I’ll make damn sure she understands completely,” snarled Hoss as they ran toward the remaining vehicle. “Yancy, you stay behind and finish getting us set up. Murph and I will see if we can’t cut her off or catch up with her before she manages to get herself in real trouble.”

  “Will do,” said Yancy as he headed back to the house.

  Murph and Hoss got in the SUV and Hoss tried to start it. Nothing happened. Not even the sound of the engine starting to crank.

  “What the fuck?” Hoss swore as Murphy hopped out of the SUV.

  Hoss flipped the hood lever and watched as Murphy raised the hood. Murphy leaned around the hood, laughter lighting up your eyes.

  “Your girl has some interesting life skills, Hoss. She took the starter relay.”

  “I swear she won’t sit or walk comfortably for the next week...”

  “Not to worry. We always keep spares in the glove box. Grab it and toss it to me.”

  Hoss did and called Adam on his cell phone.

  “Detective Mitchell.”

  “Adam, it’s Hoss. Can you put out some kind of alert on the gray SUV?”

  “Why? What happened to it?”

  “Remi stole the damn thing and then disabled the blue one. Murph will have ours fixed in a minute or two but she was flying down the driveway the last time we saw her. She slept all the way here, so we have that on our side, but she’s more than capable of figuring out where she is.”

  “Problem is, the only way I can do it outside of my own jurisdiction is to make it official. I’ll need a reason, which I can come up with, but they’ll haul her ass back to Philly and I’m not sure that’s the best place for her. Oh, wait... I have a friend in the state police. Let me see if I can work back channels with him.”

  “Thanks, Adam, I appreciate it.”

  Within ten minutes, Murphy had installed the new starter relay, and Hoss was able to start the SUV and head after her. He turned back to Murphy.

  “Is this your SUV or Yancy’s?”

  “Mine. Why do you ask?”

  “You keep a butt plug in a baggie in your glove box?” said Hoss with a laugh. “Do I even want to know?”

  “As you pointed out, my Ginie can be a handful. She is especially prone to being naughty when she’s bored. Usually, all I have to do is remind he
r it’s there and she settles down. If that doesn’t do the trick, I pull off, spank her pretty bottom, and let her wear that until she remembers why she wants to behave.”

  “And the baggie?”

  “I’m not a philistine. It always gets washed and sterilized before it goes back into a new baggie and gets returned to the glove box. You’ll learn that often times just the threat or reminder that she needs to mind is enough to keep her in line and get her motor running.”

  Hoss’ cell phone rang. “Bishop,” he answered.

  “It’s Yancy. We’ve got a line on her. She must have figured out where she is. She got a flight out of Atlanta, headed back to Baltimore. There’s a smaller private airstrip about ten miles from you guys. I can have a plane waiting so you can get there before she does.”

  “Thanks, Yancy. I’ll have Murph drop me off. He can come back for you. Why don’t you two join Adam in Philly? I’ll go get Remi and meet you out at the cottage. I’m going to need to know if she has a security and system and the code at her place. We should be secure at the cottage.”

  “Sure. I’ll text you when I have the code. We’ll see you when you get there. Keep in touch.”

  “Will do,” Hoss said as he disconnected. Turning to Murphy, he said, “You okay with that?”

  “Your girl, your plan.”

  They rendezvoused with the plane and Hoss was quickly on his way to Remi’s historic row home in Fells Point. The flight was without incident and Hoss was impressed as he pulled up to the elegant façade. He turned his back to the townhouse and was greeted by a glorious view of Baltimore’s Inner Harbor.

  He opened the ornate iron gate and walked up the brick walk to her front door.

  “May I help you?” came an elderly, patrician voice. “I don’t believe Remington is in town.”

  Hoss turned his most dazzling grin on his face and removed his Stetson.

  “No, ma’am,” he said, exaggerating his drawl. “Remi was up in Philly doing that show...”

  “The one where she found the body?”

  “That’s the one. They said she could come home. I thought I’d surprise her. You know, get the house opened up?”

  The woman looked him up and down. “That doesn’t answer my original question, young man. Who are you and what do you want with Remington?”

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, approaching her with his hand out. “I’m Morgan Bishop... Remington’s fiancé.”

  “I didn’t know she was engaged.”

  “We weren’t supposed to tell anybody until after the show. I live down in Texas, raise imported beef cattle... that’s how we met. We’re both in the fine food industry.”

  The older woman shook his hand and seemed to relax. He’d always found that people would more easily accept a big lie if it was supported by truths and half-truths. He glanced at his watch and felt his phone vibrate.

  “I hate to seem rude, ma’am, but I need to get inside and get things ready for her.”

  “I suspect it’s been pretty awful for her.”

  “Yes, ma’am, she’s been distraught. I came up so I could be with her.”

  “That’s very sweet; you tell Remington we’re thinking of her and let us know if we can help.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  Hoss turned away and glanced at his cell:

  Door lock is numeric. Code is 1-1-9-9

  Security keypad is in the hall closet on your left and code is 9-9-1-1

  We’ll need to fix that

  Hoss let himself in and punched in the security code. Once it recognized that he had disarmed it correctly, he set it again so that Remi wouldn’t realize he was now in her home.

  He walked all around all three floors. Her home was beautiful. It had a casual, bohemian elegance that he thought would look good anywhere they ended up. Hoss hoped they could clear her name and end up at the Rocking B. If not, they’d be happy together... he meant to see to that.

  Chapter Eleven

  Remi had parked the SUV in long-term parking at the Atlanta airport. She left it unlocked with the keys under the driver’s side front floor mat. If she was lucky, someone would steal the vehicle and Hoss and his goons would chase them.

  While still stiff and sore, Remi was feeling accomplished. She had been able to escape from the safe house and evade their pursuit and recapture. She treated herself to a first-class ticket on a flight that was leaving in less than thirty minutes from her arrival at the airport. It would be tight, but her semi-celebrity status had caused the airline to give her VIP status through security and immediate boarding.

  She settled into her window seat as the plane taxied down the runway. She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until she expelled it as the wheels lifted off and they became airborne. The businesswoman sitting next to her was a frustrated amateur chef and quizzed Remi both about becoming a professional and as well as being on the show. Remi kept her answers short and polite but was glad when the flight was over.

  As she had no baggage, at least none other than emotional, she was able to make her way quickly through the airport and hail a cab. She gave the driver her address and settled back for the drive home. The sight of her home in Fells Point never failed to make her smile. Paying the cab driver, she let herself in and shut the door. Leaning back against it, she closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.

  Remi thought briefly about making something to eat as she couldn’t remember the last time she had done so. But exhaustion—physical, mental, and emotional—was almost overwhelming. She went upstairs to her master suite and allowed herself the luxury of simply falling onto her bed and closing her eyes.

  She heard the door softly close. She could sense his presence, hear his rhythmic breathing. She knew without opening her eyes that her escape had been an illusion. Hoss was here.

  “Did you have a nice flight, Remington?” he asked in a voice that betrayed nothing.

  She sat up slowly and opened her eyes to meet his. “Not bad. The woman sitting next to me wants to leave Corporate America and become a chef, but isn’t sure she wants to give up her comfortable life.”

  “What did you tell her?” he asked conversationally.

  “That if her calling was to be a chef, she should work toward that goal.”

  “Was that what you always wanted to be?”

  She shook her head slowly. “No, there was a time I wanted nothing more than to stay in Texas and be with you.”

  Remi could see her words had shocked him. His face showed surprise and he’d taken a step back as though she had physically shoved him.

  “Then why did you leave?”

  “I wasn’t given much choice in the matter. By the time I could get to a phone and place a transatlantic call, you had joined the rangers and been deployed.”

  “You could have written... could have tried to contact me,” he said quietly.

  “Your father wasn’t inclined to help me and neither was anyone else in town. It seemed to me that I had been nothing more than a brief fling and that you had moved on.”

  Hoss snorted. “Not much of a fling if I didn’t even get to feel you up.” He smiled, a feral smile full of animosity and something more she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “I’ve been making up for that ever since you showed up on my doorstep. I was headed up the stairs to give you a hard ride before sitting you on my cock so we could have a little talk. But seeing as you took off, disabled the other car and flipped me off before stupidly running home to Baltimore, I guess I’ll need to take you to task for that first.”

  Taking off his cowboy hat and hanging it off the top of one of the posts at the end of the bed, he said, “Interesting bed you have here. Lots of possibilities.”

  Remi noted the large bulge in the front of his jeans as she watched his strong hands caressing the tall barley twist end posts. There was a sort of detachment in her observations, as if she wasn’t really a part of the scene. She knew she should be worried about what he was going to do to her in retali
ation for her escape, but she wasn’t. She was fascinated and oddly aroused. She could feel her nipples bead up, but not with a sudden rush. It felt as if each individual textured bit pebbled of its own accord. The swirl of desire she thought she had managed to snuff out sprang to life as if to assure her that the fire she felt for him had only been banked and not extinguished.

  He reached out his hand and beckoned her with his fingers. With quiet resolve not to allow him to see her fear or her arousal, she silently took his hand and allowed him to draw her to him. Hoss grasped both of her wrists in one hand. Oddly, she noted that as he held both of them within his massive grasp, her bone structure seemed downright delicate.

  “Hold onto the bed, Remi.”

  “Look, Morgan, I’m tired and I’m still not fully recovered from our earlier encounters. You may have had what passes for the law sewn up in and around your ranch, but here in Baltimore, if I call 9-1-1, they’ll haul your sorry ass off to jail.”

  Morgan hesitated, took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. He smiled a soft sad smile that Remi remembered from their childhood.

  “You have every right to do just that. I need to know you’re safe and that you’ll let someone protect you. I can accept if you don’t want that someone to be me, but these guys are professionals and they aren’t just going to fade away. If you want me out of your life, tell me that and I’ll get you to the FBI or whoever Adam thinks is in the best position to keep you safe.”

  “Morgan, I don’t know that I trust anyone as much as I do you to keep me safe. I think that’s why I came home,” she said softly, caressing his cheek.

  He looked at her, dropping his guard and allowing her to see the depth of his feelings for her.

  “If you choose,” he said, emphasizing the last word, “to stay with me, then you belong to me and part of that means accepting my punishment for running away.”

  She hesitated. She understood the choice was now hers. If she acknowledged and accepted being in Morgan’s life, it meant submitting to him. A part of her wanted to comply, wordlessly agreeing; the other wanted to defy him in no uncertain terms. The thought of losing him again tore at her heart and the decision was made.