Felicity was sure she bleated when he rushed inside. Then she pressed her forehead against the bed as he stroked deeper and harder, his grip adjusting, pulling her backward, pushing her forward. She rocked, captured in his rough embrace, glorying in the fact he was losing control, and his movements were quickening.
Then he released her and pulled free. She glanced over her shoulder to see him kneel on the bed, his cock straight and glistening. He held out his hand.
She turned, gripped his hand, and crawled over his lap. With her hands planted on his broad shoulders, she lowered herself onto his shaft. “This feels so good,” she said softly.
He smoothed back her hair. “I like this, too. I can see your eyes.”
“Why does that matter?”
“Your beautiful eyes are my favorite part of you.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Not the part I would have guessed.”
He scooped his lips against hers then cupped the side of her face. “I know everything you’re thinking when I look into them.”
She tossed back her hair and widened her eyes. “And what am I thinking now?”
“That you were never sorry at all.”
She grinned and ground down on him. “Think so? Is there more?”
“That you wish I’d stop talking and just ‘get down to business’ as you like to describe it.”
“He has a superpower!”
Only Hook didn’t smile at her quip. “Baby, you have to stop worrying.”
Confused, her smile faltered. “I’m worried?”
“Yeah, you are. You think this isn’t going to last, but you’re wrong.”
Felicity’s smile faded completely, and she glanced down at his chest. How could he know for sure? Wasn’t it too soon for them to be pledging forever? While she was pretty sure she’d never feel like this about another man, she would hate it if, someday, down the road, he changed his mind.
He tucked his thumb beneath her chin and forced her gaze back to his. “Just so you know, I’m not ever letting you go. Babe, I’m sure about this…about us. I’m all in.”
She stayed silent for a long moment, looking into his eyes. They reflected the same certainty she felt all the way to her toes. In that moment, she believed.
Wrapping both arms around his shoulders, she pressed her body against his, mashing her breasts on his chest, trying to get closer. If she could, she’d crawl right inside him. She rubbed her cheek against his. “I should be thanking Cameron.” She felt him smile. “Without him…”
“Yeah, we can send him a card when he’s in prison.”
Felicity kissed his cheek and sighed. “I’m a little sad.”
His arms enclosed her. “Baby, why?”
“Because I don’t know how I’ll ever feel happier than I do at this moment.”
His exhale feathered across her cheek. “Have a little faith. We’re just beginning.” He gave her another hug then lowered his hand to her bottom. “I’ll show you.”
And he did.
Chapter 9
Two weeks later…
“This is so freaking cool.”
Hook grinned at the uncharacteristic excitement in Fetch’s voice. Although this was a rather ordinary hunt, Fetch had finagled the loan of RIP’s ops van, along with its newest Operations Specialist, Felicity. Fetch had heard about the agency’s well-outfitted vehicle and wanted a chance to evaluate whether it was something he should invest in. To maximize the experience, the team wore Kevlar helmets with cameras in addition to their usual gear.
Currently, Fetch and Felicity were monitoring the situation from inside the van, which was parked on a gravel road where the rest of the team had left their vehicles to traipse through the forest hunting for one Bruce West-ham. Westham had failed to appear in court to face charges for distribution of methamphetamine.
While the hunt was ordinary, the bounty was not. Westham’s bail had been set high because this wasn’t his first rodeo, and the last time he’d faced charges, he’d headed into the mountains, vowing to never to be captured. Why the judge had granted him bail a second time left the team shaking their heads. Even set high, it hadn’t been unattainable, due to his eighty-year-old grandmother’s generosity.
Fetch thought it would be a damn shame to take the woman’s house, so he was determined to bring Westham back.
They moved slowly through the high mountain forest because Westham appeared to be serious about wanting to live off the land. They’d encountered several large metal animal traps, as well as improvised traps with shaved wooden stakes at the bottom of small excavated pits.
Reaper was on point and carried a long wooden stick, which he used to tap the ground ahead of him.
“Hey, guys,” Felicity’s voice came into his earpiece. “He turned on his phone. I have coordinates. Get ready to copy.”
“Here that, guys? She’s got GPS coordinates!”
Hook chuckled at Fetch’s enthusiasm.
“Damn, he got signal?” Carly muttered.
Reaper pulled his handheld GPS device from his pocket. “I’m ready.”
Felicity gave him the digits, and Reaper’s fingers tapped away. When he stopped, he studied the small screen. Suddenly, his eyebrows shot upward, and he lifted his head to stare at the team. “We’re close. In fact, I’m pretty damn sure we’re right on top of him.”
At that moment, a shot rang out.
Everyone ducked for cover. Not only had Westham sworn to live off the land, he’d told his grandma he’d never be taken alive. He’d come to the woods armed to the teeth.
Hook dove beneath a rock outcropping and scanned his surroundings, looking for any sign of the man. “I think the shot came from the top of the ridge,” Hook said, pitching his voice low.
“Think you’re right,” Carly said.
“Aw, come on, Bruce,” Reaper shouted. “We’re bounty hunters. You know why we’re here. We’re not leaving without you.”
Hook kept silent, knowing Reaper was trying to provoke a response so they could get a bead on Westham’s position.
“Though if you were serious about hiding,” Reaper shouted, “why are you only four miles from your granny’s Volvo? You such a sorry hunter you had to make a run for takeout?”
Another shot rang out, this one thudding against a tree trunk near Reaper’s position.
“Think the boy’s a bit pissed at me,” Reaper drawled.
Hook grinned then eased up, his weapon pointing toward the ridge above him.
A bullet pinged off the rock beside his ear. He ducked back down.
“What the hell was that, Hook?” Felicity said in his ear.
Hook grimaced. “He missed me by a mile, sweetheart. Don’t you worry.”
“Of course, I’m gonna worry. We still have to finish packing up my apartment. I’m not doing it alone.”
“Told you we’d come help,” Reaper muttered.
“You’re sweet, Reaper, but we won’t need you until Saturday for the heavy lifting.”
Hook rolled his eyes. “Anyone see the bastard yet?”
“That’s a negative,” Carly said. “We can’t just sit here. If we’re all moving, he’ll have a hard time tracking us. Plus, if we move farther apart, we can triangulate his position when he fires again.”
“Carly, you keep your ass planted,” Reaper growled.
“Reaper, honey, do you want to get any tonight?”
A loud sigh sounded. “I’m going straight up. You two flank me.”
“Roger,” Carly said.
Hook repeated the acknowledgement. He edged along the outcropping, spotted his next cover, and charged toward a fallen trunk.
Two shots whistled through the trees.
“Saw a silhouette,” Carly said. “Dead ahead of you, Reap.”
“Thanks, hon.”
A loud metallic snap sounded.
“Goddammit, Bruce, that one almost took my damn foot!”
Gleeful laughter sounded in the distance. “Next time it might be your dick!
Get the fuck off this mountain!”
“Now, buddy, that was just crude. We’ve got ladies out here.”
“Only saw one.”
“Then you missed the other.”
There was only one on the mountain, but Hook knew Reaper wanted Westham worried.
“Go, go, go!” Carly said.
Hook left his cover and headed toward a thick, standing tree. He hurled himself toward it as shots bit into the dirt at his feet.
“Hook, you okay? I saw you go down!” Felicity’s voice was strained.
“I’m fine, babe.”
“Ahhh,” Carly said. “You two are just too cute.”
Hook blew out a breath and wiped sweat from his brow. That had been closer than he’d like to admit to Felicity.
A buzzing sounded from high above the trees.
“What the hell is that?” Hook asked, peering skyward.
“Felicity’s operating a drone,” Fetch said. “We’ve got eyes on the ridge.”
“And it’s not just outfitted with a camera,” Felicity said, sounding smug. The buzzing descended. “Hunters, keep your heads down.”
A quick burst of gunfire rattled through the forest, and the drone veered away, sounding fainter.
“What the fuck was that?” Westham shouted.
“Told you we had another female out here!” Reaper replied. “You ready to surrender?”
“Was that you, Fel?” Hook asked, grinning.
“Like my toy?”
“We have to get one of those,” Fetch said.
The walk back to the van took longer than the walk to Westham’s encampment on the ridge for two reasons. First, Reaper had to, again, tap the ground to make sure it was safe. He’d threatened to put the asshole on point, but Westham had admitted he’d forgotten where he’d laid half of his traps. Secondly, Westham hadn’t made it any deeper into the woods because he’d managed to spear his own foot through the sole of his boot by stepping into one of his forgotten traps, which meant Westham had to hop back to the road while holding onto Hook’s good arm. Hook sure as hell wasn’t carrying the smelly bastard.
They made it back to the van after nightfall. After securing Westham in Reaper’s vehicle and the helmets inside the van, the group stood in the light spilling from the back of the van, drinking steaming cups of coffee.
Fetch looked up into the vehicle. “I can see so many uses for one of these. Can you imagine if we have a long stakeout? We could set up cameras and watch from the comfort of a temperature-controlled van. Any time we send out multiple hunters to close in on dangerous skips, we’ll have more than voices to figure out who’s doing what. Felicity, they give you any idea how much something like this costs?”
Felicity shook her head. “Honestly, I think they made it themselves. I found schematics in a drawer. It’s not complicated. If you’re serious about wanting one made, I bet Brian and I could handle ordering and installing most of the tech. We’d just need a good body repair shop to custom fit the side panels, benches, and flooring.”
“You could do that?”
“Yeah, but while we’re customizing the interior, I think you should add an external hydraulic lift.”
Fetch frowned for a second, but then his confusion cleared, and he smiled. “Like the one Brian has on the back of his van?”
Felicity nodded. “We would have to alter the plans to make sure his chair fits under the bench and that he can reach the driver’s seat.”
“We could have the alterations made so he can control the gas pedal and the brake with his hands…” Fetch nodded. “What do you guys think? Would he go for it?”
Everyone smiled.
“Hell,” Reaper said, “he’s already bossy enough.” He chuckled. “I think he’d fucking love it.”
“And I want one of those,” Fetch said, pointing at the drone she’d already packed away beneath the bench with the monitors. He stood staring inside for a long moment, and then glanced around. “Folks, we’ve already had a long day. Reaper and Carly, you go on and get Westham into lockup.” He reached for Felicity’s hand and shook it. “Tell Monica thanks for the loan. Anytime she needs something from Montana Bounty Hunters, you tell her we’ll be there.”
Felicity smiled. “I’d better get this rig back to HQ.”
Fetch glanced at Hook. “You want to ride with me or your girl?” he asked, giving him a wink.
Hook cleared his throat. “I better ride along with Felicity.”
“Smart boy.” Fetch gave them both a nod and left.
Hook looked sideways at Felicity, trying to read her mood.
Felicity looked back, her eyes narrowing. Then she reached out and slapped his arm. “He missed by a mile, my ass!”
Hook gave an exaggerated wince. “Point is, he missed.” He reached out, snagged her waist, and pulled her into his body. “Tell the truth. You had fun today.”
Her frown remained for all of a second, and then she gave him a sheepish grin. “It was a blast.”
He hugged her then gripped her hair and tugged it until she lifted her face. “You ready to go home?”
“Beyond ready. You want to drive?”
“You tired?” he asked smiling down at her. She usually fought him for the keys.
“Not especially.”
“Hmmm,” he said, noting the telltale twinkle in her eyes. “I saw a cot under one of the benches.”
She wrinkled her nose. “It’s narrow and hard.”
“The passenger seat is roomy…” he murmured.
She rose on tiptoe and kissed his mouth. “You pick the place. The windows are tinted, so no one’s gonna see inside.”
“Or we could just wait until we get home…”
She rolled her eyes and scampered away to the passenger side door. Once she was inside, he walked to his door and climbed into the van. He punched the ignition then glanced at her. “Are you happy?”
“Happier than I’ve ever been, Dylan.”
He nodded and shifted into drive. When he felt her hand on his upper arm, he sighed. “Me, too.”
Wolf
Montana Bounty Hunters, Book #6
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author
Delilah Devlin
Chapter One
It was noon on day two after guards at the Kalispell Detention Center noted that one of their inmates was missing. While an alphabet soup of law enforcement agencies combed Kalispell and the surrounding area, the bounty hunters of Montana Bounty Hunters were deep in the Koontenai National Forest.
With a hundred-thousand-dollar reward on the line, Wolf Patterson’s boss, Fetch Winter, the owner of the small bounty hunting agency, wasn’t leaving anything to chance. Every hunter in the Kalispell office had been scrambled to bring in Reese Tobin, an arsonist who’d managed to escape days before his trial.
The previous afternoon, a stolen truck left beside the highway was their first big break. The team’s new tracking dog, Taco, alerted, confirming Tobin had been there, and the chase was on.
After setting up camp the previous night, they’d slept wrapped in space blankets to await daybreak then continued to follow the experienced survivalist’s trail. With the aid of the team’s dog, they followed him north through rugged, hilly, and heavily forested terrain. They no longer had any doubts concerning Tobin’s intentions. He was making a run for the border.
Wolf knelt to study a smudge on a stone darker than the surrounding rock and sandy grit littering the trail. He touched the stone to his tongue and noted the faint, coppery taste of blood. Didn’t mean a thing unless he found more. When he rose, he looked for more clues that Tobin might be hurt.
Twenty-five paces farther, he found another smudge. This one larger. Without droplets on leaves or the tips of grass, he guessed Tobin’s feet were badly blistered, due no doubt to the flimsy jailhouse slip-ons he still wore. Shouldering his weapon, Wolf moved faster, catching up with Mace, Taco’s handler, who’d halted at the top of a deep ravine.
“His feet are ble
eding,” Wolf said.
Mace nodded. “Taco’s nose hasn’t lifted once in the past twenty minutes. Scent’s stronger. We’re close.”
Scrapes sounded behind them, and they turned to watch Fetch and the newest hunter, Bennie Jacobs, approach.
Fetch frowned. “We’re stopped.”
Wolf suppressed a smile. Fetch spoke in few syllables, but still managed to convey a wealth of irritation. Not that he needed words. His salt-and-pepper hair, dark eyebrows, and piercing silver gaze, added to the fact he stood six-feet-six in his socks, were arresting in themselves, but his voice, a deep sandpaper rasp, sent shivers down most people’s spines.
“Tobin’s slowing down," Mace said. “Wolf says he’s bleeding, and my dog needs a rest.”
“Well, hell.” Fetch glanced up at the thick, gray clouds visible through the green canopy of cottonwood, aspen, and paper birch trees.
Mace dropped to a knee beside his German Shepherd. He pulled a high-protein snack from a pouch on his web belt, fed it to the dog then filled his canteen cup with water. While Taco drank, Mace checked his paws, one at a time, finishing with a pat against his hindquarters.
The rest of the team chowed down on energy bars as Fetch rechecked the map. “Skinny runt’ll make it to the border if we don’t grab him in the next couple of hours.”
Something Sheriff Hatchett had worried about once he’d completed his search of the jail. Tobin had crawled through a ventilation shaft, and then rifled the guards’ locker room for clothing and keys. His absence hadn’t been noted immediately, which told the sheriff Tobin might have had help from someone on the inside. His first call after notifying state troopers had been to Fetch, because he knew his hunters could go places and do things law enforcement couldn’t.
“We’re burnin’ daylight,” Fetch muttered.
Once again, Mace took the lead. He held a baggie containing Tobin’s discarded socks, found in his jail cell, beneath the dog’s nose to refresh the scent, and then pointed toward the trail. “Such!” he said, giving the German command to search.
Hook (Montana Bounty Hunters Book 5) Page 9
