This was something he was getting the hang of. He still missed the ease of jerking off with his right hand. Using his left, he had to concentrate on the motions, remember how it had felt in his right, and mimic the movements. That extra bit of thought dragged out the process. By the time the water was steaming up the room, his hips thrust against his grasp, sliding his cock through his tight fingers.
When he came, his head fell back, and he swayed, pleasure replacing the dissatisfaction with his fate that had plagued him since he’d realized his prosthetic had shattered, reminding him again that he wasn’t whole. That he’d never be again.
He watched his come spurt against the shower wall, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His little swimmers were doing just fine.
Chapter 2
Two mornings later, Hook met Raydeen on the high school track. He carried his damaged prosthetic tucked under his arm as he strode toward her.
Raydeen glanced down and shook her head, which sent her naturally tight curls shivering around her head. “Damn, Dylan. That one’s only three months old. What the hell did you do?”
He handed her the device and shrugged. “It’s not what I did.”
She turned it, examining the crack and trying to pull the cable. Then she pursed her full lips and shot him a glare. “You get into a bar fight?”
He widened his eyes in mock-innocence. “Now, why would you assume that?”
She shrugged. “You haven’t been in the best of moods lately.”
“And you think me being in a bad mood equals a bar fight?” He tsked. “This was a lawful fight, Ray. It was work-related.”
“Sure.” She narrowed her eyes. “He broke your arm, but how’s he lookin’?”
Hook smirked. “His jaw is a pretty purple, I’m sure.”
“That’s my boy,” she murmured as she set the arm on the first riser of the bleachers and pointed toward the track. “I’m setting the pace today. I still ache from the sprint you made me run the last time.”
Her pace was only a little less speedy than his own. The woman had legs for miles and was built like a racehorse—not some dainty Arabian, no, a sturdy Thoroughbred. She was well-muscled and padded in all the right places. “I’m down with that. Slow and easy.”
She huffed a breath, raised the hand holding the stopwatch, and clicked it. Then they were off.
They settled into a steady pace, one meant for distance and not so fast they couldn’t talk, which he supposed was the reason she’d insisted on a more leisurely gate for this morning’s run.
“So, you enjoying the job?” she asked.
“I am. Wasn’t sure bounty hunting was for me, but every day’s a new challenge. Finding the clues where these boneheads hide, organizing a capture… It’s a new kind of high. I was afraid I’d never feel that way again.”
“You adrenaline junkies…” She shook her head. “You hoping for more of what you got last night?”
“Hey, I didn’t start the fight, but I didn’t mind mixing it up. Hey, I got my cardio in, that’s for sure. He tried to run and kept throwing shit in our paths. Two of our best hunters went down, but I stayed on his ass. Felt good to be the last one standing.”
She grunted.
“What’s that sound mean?”
“What you say feels good are things that end with broken prostheses or you in the hospital. There are better ways to get your heart pumping.” She shot him a glance. “You ever think about what I suggested?”
“You mean, find a girlfriend?”
“Not necessarily. You can ease in. Doesn’t even have to be someone you want a relationship with. Just blow off some steam. You know that’s why you’re so damn testy, right?”
Another woman telling him to get laid… “What’s up, Raydeen? Is this you dropping hints? You tired of circling a track with me? Want some recreational sex to speed up the old heart?”
“My heart’s not old, you shithead. ’Sides, I’ve got my eye on someone—maybe more stubborn than you. I’m just bidin’ my time until he’s ready to get over bein’ shy.”
He glanced sideways, curious now about the man Raydeen Pickering wanted. Raydeen wasn’t a beauty, but there was a lot to attract a man. She was strong, assertive, maybe a little scary to a man who wasn’t so sure of his own masculinity. Biracial, with creamy, coffee-colored skin, and bronze-toned freckles across her cheeks and nose, with a little makeup, she’d likely be stunning. Add large breasts and a firm, rounded ass, and—
Damn, he needed to think about something else. “So, who’s the lucky guy?”
She rolled her eyes. “You know him. And at the rate he’s going, the boy’s never gonna get lucky.”
He frowned and tried to think of any of the guys at Soldiers’ Sanctuary that he could claim to “know”. That would be the only way he’d know the guy since he didn’t mingle with Ray outside the charity or her office. He hadn’t made any friends there. He’d been to a few meetings, been introduced to Raydeen. By Brian—who’d taken him to a social gathering at the meeting hall. Wait… “Brian?”
She scowled and ran faster.
Hook caught up. “You do know Brian’s all about the job, right? It’s why he doesn’t get to many of the gatherings.”
“He doesn’t come, because he’s afraid I’ll talk to him. The dummy thinks being a great office manager is all he’s got to offer,” she said, her voice going husky. “He thinks…because he lost his legs…”
Hook reached for her arm and tugged her to a halt. They stood facing each other, breathing hard. Her expression was free of her usual confidence. Instead, her eyes blinked, and her mouth trembled. Lord, she was appealing when she wasn’t trying to be a hardass. “Ray, Jamie told me he had a hard time digging himself out of depression after he was injured, but he’s making great progress.”
“I get that. And he’s on a good path. He has his work, his friends at the agency…” She shook her head then blew out a deep breath. “I made the mistake of asking him once why he hasn’t tried prosthetics…”
Hook drew back. Not a great move. He understood why she had; a prosthetic had improved his life immeasurably, but he’d met guys like Brian at Walter Reed, who’d resisted using them. Some needed time to adjust to their new bodies and different expectations about what their lives could be. “That’s rough. Now, he probably thinks you want to fix him.”
“Well, I don’t,” she said, frowning. “I like him just the way he is, but I think he could be happier…”
He arched an eyebrow.
“Well, I know his quality of life could improve.”
“Speaks the therapist…” Hook reached for her hands and held them. “If you want Brian, you have to give him space, let him figure out what he wants from his life. If he wants legs, he’ll ask when he’s ready.”
She let loose a deep sigh. “I know. And he doesn’t have to have legs—real or plastic. Not for me. I do understand.”
“Do you love him?”
This time, she drew back, and her chin lifted. “I barely know the guy. But I would like a chance to see whether there’s something there.” Again, her mouth pursed then flattened. Her shoulders slumped. “And I know it’s crossing lines. I’m a therapist. I work with soldiers. I can’t date a guy I might treat. I’d find someone else for him. I would. But it hurts my heart to see him…and not give it a try.”
He gave her a hug then stepped back. “Brian, huh? That mean I never stood a chance?”
She slapped his chest. “Just ’cause you’re horny, doesn’t mean I’m adding anything special to your treatment plan.”
He smiled, glad to see her being sassy again.
Brian. The thought of Brian and Raydeen, together, made him feel…wistful. If a woman like Raydeen wanted a man who’d lost both of his legs, then maybe there really was someone out there for him.
“Hey, we still have laps,” she said, raising the stopwatch.
“Race you,” he said, and then he took off like the wind.
Fe
licity Gronkowski frowned as she strode out of the detention center in Kalispell. Sunlight was so bright she had to shield her eyes as she glanced around. She still had no clue why they’d let her go even after she’d signed the paperwork to be released. Someone had definitely coughed up the cash.
The judge had been clear about her bail.
“Miss, I consider you a flight risk. You don’t have family here in Montana, and from what I can tell, you have no friends. Worse, since you haven’t returned what you stole, you have the means to escape. I set your bail at $300,000.”
When he’d banged his gavel, she’d winced. Where was the innocent until proven guilty?
She hadn’t had the money in the bank or a house to sign away; she’d assumed she’d be sitting in a cell until her trial. And yet, here she was—free. For now, anyway, and all thanks to a secret benefactor.
“Felicity!”
Oh, hell, they’d figured out they’d made a mistake. She turned slowly, expecting men in uniforms to be laughing behind her and shouting, “Psych!” Instead, she saw Fetch Winter striding toward her. Now, it all made sense. “Fetch? Did you pay my bail?”
“I did.” He squinted at her, his gaze raking over her.
She knew she looked like hell. Since her arrest, she’d barely eaten. Hell, she hadn’t combed her hair. She reached up and dragged her fingers through hair. “Why?” They barely knew each other. She’d met him at a VFW event a few months ago, and he’d been a talkative guy, or rather a “question-y” kind of guy, because he’d managed to get her life story and all her dreams and hopes for her future out of her by the time they’d finished their beers. At first, she’d wondered if he was hitting on her, not that she would have minded. Fetch might be pushing forty with salt-and-pepper hair, but he was still handsome, and his tall powerful frame was definitely drool worthy.
He sighed and gripped her elbow. “Let’s get out of here. Then we’ll talk.”
Since she was happy to get as far away from there as she could, she let him lead her to his car.
He drove to a café and bought her lunch. He barely touched his burger and fries while she gobbled up every bite of hers. When she finished, he pushed his plate across the table. “You can have the rest of mine.”
She waved the plate away. “No, I’ve barely eaten since last Friday. I should stop.”
Fetch sighed and settled back in the vinyl-covered seat. “Felicity, what the hell?”
She hated the fact that tears instantly burned the backs of her eyes. “I was framed.” She raised a hand. “I know, that’s what every crook says, but, this time, it’s true. I didn’t commit those burglaries. I swear.”
He sat silent then leaned forward to rest his crossed arms on the table. “Tell me.”
She’d always liked his voice—deep and even. He wasn’t an overly friendly guy, but you she’d gotten the sense he was a decent man with a solid moral code. He ran a bounty hunting agency and employed ex-military types, for the most part. His way of paying it forward he’d told her the first time they’d met.
He’d even offered to find her work inside Montana Bounty Hunters, and now, she wished she’d accepted.
“I don’t know where to begin…” She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I told you I worked installing home security systems. I was okay with that. I hoped I’d work my way up into their IT department. Anyway, last Friday, cops showed up at my apartment to arrest me. They said there’d been a series of burglaries, and the only common denominator was me.”
“And your company…” he said, arching a brow.
“Yes, but they’re a solid company. They’ve been in operation for years. Cops were sure it was an inside job. Then they went through everything they had, and it all pointed to me. My login was used every time to disable the alarms at the homes, and these weren’t just any homes. We’re talking high-flyers—billionaire CEOs and Hollywood types. Lots of cash and jewels.” She rubbed her arms because she felt cold. “If I were someone else, and they showed me what they had, I’d come to the same conclusion.”
“So, someone else used your login…”
She almost cried when he said it like that. Did he believe her? She nodded. “Yes. Someone used my login. But I don’t know how to prove it. Big Sky Security Services won’t help me. They’re convinced it’s me. End of story.”
He sat silent for a while, his gaze narrowed on her.
She tried not to fidget, she didn’t want to seem nervous…or guilty.
At last, he nodded. “I know a lawyer. A good one. And she’ll tap outside investigators.”
Her breath caught. “Seriously? Why would you do that for me? I don’t know when I could pay you back.”
Fetch smiled. “I have a job for you. The one I wanted you for when we last spoke. You can work it off. However, there will be stipulations. I can’t afford to lose the three-hundred-thousand I’ve promised if you don’t show up for trial, so you’ll have babysitters.”
She nodded quickly. “Anything. I promise I won’t let you down.”
Then he described the job, something that actually sounded tailor-made for her. She’d be installing new computer servers, as well as communications and security equipment in his two offices, there in Kalispell and in Bear Lodge. “You up for it?”
“As long as I have support from the vendors, I should be fine. When do I start?”
“Today sound too soon?”
She grinned and shook her head. She’d be happy to have something to do to take her mind off her looming trial.
“I’ll have Monica Bradford meet with you at my offices. She’s the attorney I mentioned. I talked to her last night. Told her she’d need to assemble a team.”
Her jaw sagged just a little. “Before you even talked to me?”
Fetch reached out a hand and covered one of hers. “I know you, Felicity. Soon as I heard, I knew there was no way in hell you were good for those robberies.”
She glanced out the plate-glass window beside their table and blinked away tears. Ever since she’d left the Army, she’d been on her own, without family to fall back on while she began a new life. When she glanced back at him, she smiled. “Thank you.”
He gave her a solemn nod. “One warning, though.”
“Sure. Anything.”
He gave a short shake of his head. “Not until you hear what I want.”
She sat a little straighter. His tone was deadly serious.
“Let Monica and her crew handle this. Keep your nose out.”
She drew a short, swift breath. Lord, she hated lying to him. Swallowing hard and making sure she kept her unblinking gaze locked with his, she said, “Okay.”
Chapter 3
Hook followed Dagger into the office in Bear Lodge, happy to be home after a week tracking a guy who liked to kite checks and buy things with cloned credit cards all the way to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Willie Ford had been sitting pretty in a bar, using a cloned card to pay for a little spending spree, which had included new cowboy boots, an ATV, which sat behind a rented Ford F150, and enough T-shirts, coffee mugs, and Wyoming refrigerator magnets to please every member of his large family.
The second they’d settled onto stools on either side of him, Willie had known they were there for him. His shoulders had slumped, and he’d cussed under his breath. “Can I finish my whisky?”
“Sure,” Dagger said, and leaned over the bar to shoot Hook a glance. “What’s your poison?”
“A Budweiser for me.”
He and Dagger drank their beers, aware of every breath Willie took. When the man eased his arms over his head, pretending to stretch, Hook’s mouth began to curve.
Sure enough, Willie hopped backwards off his stool and raced toward the door.
He never made it there. Hook grabbed the back of his shirt and swung him into Dagger who closed his beefy arms around him.
“Now, that wasn’t polite,” Hook said, grinning. “We didn’t get to finish our beers.”
“Dang,” Willie whis
pered hoarsely, his face turning red. “You can let go of me now.”
Willie had cried the entire way home.
They’d packed his ill-gotten gains in Dagger’s SUV and towed his ATV—more evidence for prosecutors, although Dagger and Hook had a good-natured debate over whether Montana or Wyoming would prosecute. Of course, Wyoming would, but they enjoyed listening to the groans coming from the backseat too much to stop.
When they entered the office, Lacey rushed across the room to fling her arms around Dagger’s neck. “Hey, baby,” she said, and gave him a huge smacking kiss.
Dagger laughed and patted her bottom. “Miss me?”
“Not a bit,” she said grinning.
He shook his head. “Then I guess you don’t want the present I brought you from Jackson Hole.”
“A present? For me?”
Hook chuckled. She sounded like a little girl, her voice going high-pitched and breathless.
Dagger dangled a paper bag beside her face, and she quickly released him and tore it open. “A snow globe!” she shrieked, and then promptly shook it to send the “snow” filtering over mountaintops with tiny ski lifts. “I love it!”
When Dagger had bought it, Hook had been sure it wasn’t blingy or expensive enough to please Lacey, but Dagger had arched a brow. “I know my girl.”
When Hook glanced at Dagger, his buddy gave him a slow wink.
Hook passed the couple who were moving in for another, longer kiss and headed toward the back of the bullpen area. Brian sat in his wheelchair at his desk, grinning. “Glad you’re back.”
“Me, too. Ford was tricky. Always one step ahead of us.”
“You getting the credit card information from that gas station in Helena was key. Had to work with the company to keep the card open so he could keep spending. They were only too happy to let us know every time he ran that card.”
“He said he thought he’d gotten far enough away from Montana he could take a break. The boy was not happy when we flanked him inside that bar you tracked him to.” Hook yawned. “I’m ready for some downtime.”
Hook (Montana Bounty Hunters Book 5) Page 2
