GI Cowboy

by Delores Fossen

  Zach nodded. “There’s another basketball camp today, and his dad is taking us.” He glanced at both of them and then at the car waiting for him in the driveway. “You’ll, like, be okay, right?”

  “Absolutely,” Bailey said at the exact moment Parker answered, “Of course.”

  Parker put his hand on Zach’s arm. “We’ll catch this guy, and you’ll be able to come home soon. I promise.”

  Zach stared at his dad as if he had something else to say, but he finally shook his head and looped the strap of his gym bag over his shoulder. He walked out. Parker and she stood there and watched until Deputy Bracken’s car, and Zach, were out of sight.

  Mercy. Zach wasn’t even her son, and it hurt to see him leave. She couldn’t imagine what Parker was feeling.

  Parker closed the door, locked it and reengaged the security system by using the keypad mounted on the wall. He hitched his thumb toward the hall. “I need to shower and then I have to make a few calls, but I don’t want you out of my sight for that long.”

  Okay. Bailey thought through her options. Was he asking her to shower with him? Her expression must have given away what she was thinking because Parker sighed and shook his head.

  “I also can’t have that kind of distraction,” he added with regret in his voice. He brushed a kiss on her forehead but immediately moved away from her and started for the bathroom. “I’ll leave the door open,” Parker stated as she followed him to his bedroom.

  He stripped off his T-shirt and sent it sailing into a laundry basket just inside the adjoining bathroom, threw back the shower curtain and turned on the water full blast. “Stay close so I can hear and see you.”

  Bailey managed a nod. Didn’t even attempt speech, not after getting a look at him shirtless. Oh, mercy. She’d been right about his body. It was perfect.

  Well, except for the scars.

  There were three of them—one on his left biceps, another on his right shoulder and a final one at the top of his left hip. She got a good look at that one when he unzipped his jeans and started to lower them.

  With his thumbs hooked on the waist of his jeans, Parker snagged her gaze. “If you’re waiting for me to get modest, it’s not going to happen, so you can close your eyes if you like.”

  Bailey tried to do that. She really tried, but she couldn’t make them close. It was like watching a Chippendale perform. Parker wasn’t dancing or moving suggestively. He was just stripping down to his navy blue boxers which fit him like a glove.

  The heat from the shower and her body washed over her, and Bailey finally closed her eyes just a split second before Parker removed his boxers.

  She stood there, waiting, and imagining all sorts of things. She’d never been in the shower with a man, but the idea of being in there with Parker was very tempting.

  What was wrong with her?

  She wasn’t the type to go head over heels like this. Yes, she enjoyed a man’s company, but there had been a pitiful few that she’d trusted enough to take to her bed. But with Parker, those reservations didn’t seem to exist.

  Ironic, since the stakes with him were sky-high.

  He was her bodyguard and as he’d said, he didn’t need to be distracted. There was also Zach to consider. Starting an affair with a single dad who still had feelings for his late wife could be a nightmare. And when the relationship ended badly, and it would—all her relationships ended badly—then it wasn’t just her who might get hurt. Zach might, as well.

  Bailey had forgotten she was holding her phone until it rang. She nearly jumped out of her skin, and the sound caused Parker to pull back the shower curtain far enough for him to see her.

  And for her to see him.

  Bailey got a good look at his washboard abs with that peek. She would have seen more if the slick shower curtain hadn’t slipped forward.

  “It’s my sister, Chloe,” Bailey commented. “Chloe,” she repeated when she got it through her steam-induced thoughts that her sister rarely called her. And Bailey quickly put her on speakerphone. “Is something wrong?”

  The alarmed question sent Parker scrambling out of the shower. No peek that time. Bailey got a full frontal view, and if it hadn’t been for the possible importance of this call, she would have melted into a puddle.

  “Yes, something’s wrong,” Chloe declared. “I have this fascist following me around.”

  Parker wound a towel around his waist and walked closer. “Have you called the sheriff?” Parker asked.

  “Uh, no. Who is this?” Chloe demanded in a way that only Bailey’s tattooed, extremely liberal kid sister could have demanded.

  “Parker McKenna,” Bailey provided. “He works for Corps Security and Investigations, and he’s my bodyguard.”

  Chloe made a sound of exaggerated outrage. “Well, that explains that. Sis, did you think maybe you should tell me before you hired a CSI fascist to follow me around.”

  “I didn’t.” But Bailey certainly wished she had.

  “I did,” Parker volunteered. “The fascist is Harlan McClain, and he’s one of the best. If your sister’s stalker decides to turn his attention to other members of her family, Harlan will stop him.”

  Bailey drew in a breath of relief. Her sister wasn’t in danger, and Parker had taken steps to make sure things stayed that way. Bailey only wished she had thought of it.

  “And I don’t have a say in this?” Chloe howled.

  “No!” Parker and Bailey said in unison.

  “Parker did you, and me, a favor by sending Harlan McClain out to protect you,” Bailey continued. “Chloe, things got ugly last night. Some idiot fired shots into Parker’s house.”

  Chloe got quiet for a moment. “I heard, but I thought it was a rumor. You okay, sis?”

  “I’m fine. But I don’t want you taking any chances. Either go to the ranch with mom—”

  “No way,” Chloe interrupted. “I’d have to listen to her rant about my purple hair. And the new tat. Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Mom and I aren’t on the same page when it comes to self-expression.”

  Translation: Chloe and their mother argued, and since both of them were bullheaded, they argued nonstop. “Then your only other option is to let Harlan McClain do his job. Understand?” Bailey asked.

  “Yes.” Chloe huffed. “I understand I’m stuck with a smart-mouth fascist who thinks my rebel personality is a pain in the butt.”

  “At times, like now, it is a pain,” Bailey reminded her. “But you won’t ditch him, and you’ll do as he says. Promise me, Chloe.”

  More silence. “I promise,” Chloe finally snarled. “So, is your bodyguard as much of a challenge as mine?”

  Bailey looked at Parker. At the water sliding down his chest. At his wet hair. At his perfect naked body—clothed only in a towel.

  “Oh, he’s a challenge, all right,” Bailey mumbled. But not in the way her sister meant. “Bye, Chloe.”

  Bailey clicked End Call and tried to clear her head. No chance of that with Parker so close. “Thank you for sending someone out to protect her.”

  He lifted his shoulder. “It’s just a precaution. This stalker is focused only on you. For now.”

  Yes, and while that was indeed sinister, her body wasn’t feeling fear at the moment. It was desire, pure and simple.

  Bailey suddenly didn’t know what to do with her hands. Or her phone.

  Or the rest of her.

  She should probably turn and walk away because if she stayed, Bailey knew exactly what would happen.

  Parker and she would have sex.

  As much as she wanted that, and she really wanted that, she knew this would end badly.

  “You worked things out in your head yet?” Parker asked, his voice all husky and low.

  “Yes.” But she wasn’t sure exactly what she’d worked out. And Bailey didn’t budge.

  Parker did though.

  He let go of the towel he wore, and it dropped to the floor. “Good,” he drawled. “Because if we’re going to screw
this up, we might as well make it fast.”

  Parker slid his hand around the back of her neck and hauled her to him.

  Chapter Ten

  Parker knew exactly what he was doing. He also knew what he was doing was probably stupid. He should be distancing himself from Bailey. Emotionally, anyway.

  But this was the opposite of distancing.

  He kissed Bailey. Too hard. Too rough. And he pulled her ponytail holder and worked his fingers into her soft fragrant hair so that he controlled the movement of her head. Parker angled her so he could deepen the kiss.

  That taste.

  It was already familiar to him, but it felt just as new and powerful as the first time he’d kissed her. A dangerous mix of sex and heat. He was already a goner, and he’d barely touched her.

  The fire of the kiss was making him crazy. So were her hands that she was sliding over his back. She was exploring, and judging from the sounds she was making, Bailey wanted him as much as he wanted her. Good. This couldn’t be one-sided. If they were going to screw things up, then they might as well do it together.

  “You’re built,” she mumbled, and she wiggled back just a fraction so she could put her hands between them and run them over his chest. “Really built,” she added, her voice soundless, all breath.

  Parker was glad his body pleased her, because Bailey’s had the same effect on him. Well, what he could see of her body anyway.

  “You have on too many clothes.” And he stripped off the stretchy pink top. Her bra was pink, too. Lace. Barely there. He could practically see her nipples through it, but practically wasn’t enough.

  Parker kissed her neck and snapped open the front-close bra. Her breasts spilled into his hands. She was small, firm and perfect. And he kissed each of her breasts to let her know that. He lingered, to please himself, and circled her left nipple with his tongue.

  She moaned. Arched her back, offering him a better position to take more. And just in case he hadn’t picked up on that little nonverbal signal, Bailey caught his hair and yanked him closer.

  Oh, this was going to be a battle. Parker laughed. He didn’t care if this was one battle he lost.

  He continued to kiss her breasts and neck, but he slid his hands to her bottom to lift her up so other parts of them could have some contact. Parker felt the fabric of her skirt and cursed.

  “Still too many clothes,” he mumbled.

  He shoved the skirt down her hips and to the floor, and he kicked it aside.

  Her panties were pink lace, too.

  “I like girlie underwear,” she mumbled when she saw him looking at her panties. She seemed almost embarrassed about that confession.

  “So do I,” he joked.

  But the truth was, he would have been just as satisfied if she’d been wearing burlap. It wasn’t the wrapping that got him hot. It was the woman beneath.

  Parker shifted a little, so that he could bring her closer to him, but Bailey beat him to it. She hooked her long athletic right leg around the backs of his thighs and thrust him against her.

  Her sex met his with perfect military precision. A frontal assault. The sensation was so overwhelming that it blurred his vision.

  “Hell,” he growled. Those panties were coming off now.

  Without breaking the kiss or the sex contact, Parker lifted Bailey and carried her the few steps into the bedroom, and he dropped her onto the feather mattress. It swelled around her, partly cocooning her.

  He managed to maneuver those lace barrier panties off her and himself nestled right between her legs.

  Finally!

  Bailey was naked, hot and kissing him as if…as if…

  Parker quit trying to fill in the blanks. But he couldn’t push aside that this felt different. Not just sex. Maybe something more.

  And it couldn’t be more.

  Not as long as he was Bailey’s bodyguard. He’d already broken enough rules without letting his heart have any say in this.

  “Please tell me you have a condom,” she whispered.

  Did he?

  Parker had a moment of near panic, but then he remembered during the move that he’d found a box and had put them in the nightstand drawer. He hadn’t thought he’d ever use them, but he was thankful he was prepared. He nearly ripped off the drawer trying to get to one.

  “I’ll be too heavy for you,” he murmured and tried to move her to another position.

  “No way.” Bailey held her ground, tightened the grip with her legs and put his sex right against hers. “I’ve been fantasizing about your body on mine, and it’s going to happen now.”

  All right. He was too huge and too hard to argue with that. If she’d wanted sex on the kitchen table, Parker would have made it happen.

  She lifted her hips at the same moment that Parker levered his down. Talk about a sweet collision. His vision blurred. His breath went who knows where. He didn’t care. The only thing he could feel was being inside Bailey.

  Hell. There was no way this would last very long. She was too tight, too wet and moving too fast as if she were already close to the edge.

  Parker got her closer.

  He thrust deep inside her. Again. Again. And again. Faster. And faster.

  The sweat misted their bodies, making them slick.

  Bailey dug her heels into the mattress, arching her entire body and making the union as complete as it could get. She made that sweet feminine sound, half moan, half plea.

  “Finish me,” she insisted.

  That was exactly what he had in mind. He could make this unbearable heat burst. Could make the pleasure go off the scale.

  So that’s what Parker did.

  He pushed into her one last time, and he felt her close around him. That was all he needed.

  Just Bailey.

  Parker surrendered.

  His body went slack. So did his brain. And he had no idea how long it took him to find level ground again. Maybe ten minutes or more. All the primal, primitive urges inside him kept saying satisfied, finished. He’d taken the woman he wanted and had left his taste and scent on her.

  But the truth was, Bailey had put her mark on him, as well.

  He glanced down at her and realized he had to be crushing her. Even though Bailey had said she wanted him on top of her, he outweighed her by a good seventy pounds, and right now he was dead weight.

  Hating that the intimate contact had to end, he rolled to the side and went into the bathroom. He wasn’t gone long, less than a minute, but when he came back into the bedroom he was disappointed to see that Bailey had coiled the comforter around her. Maybe she was cold. The AC was blowing cold air from the overhead duct.

  But she also looked a little uneasy.

  Parker smiled, dropped down beside her and tried to defuse some of that uneasiness. “I finally got you in my bed.”

  “Yes.”

  He heard the hesitation in her voice and lifted his head slightly so he could look at her. She was staring at the scar on his shoulder.

  Oh, that.

  “Old wounds,” he mumbled.

  “There are three of them.” Bailey touched her fingers to the one on his hip and sent a nice ripple of heat through that part of his body.

  “All places where the bulletproof gear didn’t cover me,” he explained.

  She bent down and brushed her mouth over it. More heat. Hell. He’d just had her. He couldn’t want Bailey this much this soon.

  “You got the wounds when you were protecting people?” she asked.

  He heard the question, but then she switched positions, propping her elbow on his chest. The comforter shifted, and it gave him a really good view of her breasts.

  “Yeah,” he answered. And Parker leaned in and kissed her left nipple just as she’d done his scar.

  She pulled in her breath and didn’t release it for several seconds. The slight hitching sound she made was pure pleasure and revved him up all over again.

  Yeah. He wanted her bad. And Parker would have sampled her other n
ipple if Bailey hadn’t caught onto his face with her hands.

  “If things turn ugly…” she whispered. Her voice was no longer hitching or filled with breath. “I don’t want you to take a bullet for me.”

  He froze. “What?”

  “I want you to think of Zach. You have to stay safe for him.”

  He didn’t want to have this conversation. “I’m going to make sure both of you are safe. This isn’t an either-or situation, Bailey.”

  She kissed him, hard and fast. “Just don’t be a superhero for me. Save that for your son.”

  Oh, he would have argued with that, and Parker would have won, too. If the blasted doorbell hadn’t rung. Since it could be the sheriff with an update, Parker jumped from the bed and began to locate his clothes. Bailey scrambled to do the same.

  The doorbell rang again. This time it was followed by a heavy-handed knock.

  “I’ll be right there,” Parker called out.

  But the person rang the bell again. Parker pulled on a pair of clean jeans and a black T-shirt.

  Bailey hurriedly put on her underwear and had her top halfway over her head when someone called out.

  “Bailey? If you’re in there, open up now,” the man shouted.

  “Oh, God.” Bailey groaned. “It’s Tim.”

  Parker cursed. This couldn’t be good. He grabbed his gun off the dresser and headed for the door.

  Chapter Eleven

  Bailey pulled on her skirt and hurried after Parker. “Tim,” she mumbled. Why the heck was he here?

  She prayed nothing had happened to her mother.

  Ahead of her, Parker disengaged the security system, and he unlocked and opened the door.

  Tim was indeed there on the porch, his fist lifted, ready to knock again. But he wasn’t alone. Her mother was by his side.

  “What’s wrong?” Bailey asked, rushing toward them.

  “I was about to ask you the same thing,” Lila countered. She combed her gaze over Bailey. Then over Parker.

  Bailey silently groaned. There was no mirror around for her to check her appearance, but if she looked as rumpled as Parker did, then her mother had already guessed that Parker and she had just climbed out of bed.