by Lora Leigh
Samantha stood and looked down at him. He’d make a great Playgirl centerfold, she thought. She felt his eyes on her as she carefully stepped over the rocks to where the water was a bit deeper to rinse away the dry, salty sweat from her skin. When she turned to walk back, she saw Hunter standing on the bank, leaning against a wide oak with his legs crossed, still watching her. The way he looked at her took her breath away. He made her feel incredibly desirable and wanted.
Samantha’s lips curved into a smile as she stepped onto the bank and walked toward him. Naked and unashamed, he stood unmoving, his cock fully erect, his eyes filled with erotic promise.
“You ready to go back?” he asked as he rubbed her arms, soothing away the goose bumps the cool breeze had caused.
Taking his face in her hands, she touched her lips to his, lingering for a moment. “Not yet,” she murmured. She craved his pleasure as much as her own, and she wanted to make him feel that the way he made her feel it. His brow furrowed as he searched her face, and she kissed his lips once more before she began trailing kisses down his body.
He held his breath and uncrossed his legs. “Sam.” He groaned as her tongue circled his navel and moved lower. She knelt in front of him and grasped his thick erection with both hands. She gazed up at him as she took the broad tip between her lips and tasted the pearl of pre-cum that had welled up there. Her lips opened, allowing the bulging head to glide into her mouth. She ran her tongue along his frenulum and sucked gently, as her fingers moved lightly over his shaft. He grasped her head, his fingers weaving through her hair. “Oh God.” His voice cracked just a little.
Her lips drew him in, sucking him deeper inside her mouth as her tongue stroked the pulsing underside. She loved the heat, the way he throbbed against her tongue, the salty sweet taste of him.
The sound of his labored breathing, his fingers flexing in her hair urged her to suck him harder. Her own body responded, warm and slick, gathering in the sensitive folds of her pussy as she brought him closer to the edge. One hand closed over the base of his cock, the other cupped his balls, and she gently massaged the delicate flesh.
She withdrew and sucked him in again. He groaned, pulling her closer, sinking deeper into her mouth. She felt the hot throbbing head of his cock against the back of her throat and swallowed, taking him as deeply as she could.
“Ah fuck,” he growled. “My Sam.”
She felt his balls tighten, his body go rigid, as he thrust into her mouth. Her tongue stroked, her mouth pulled on him longer and harder. He threw his head back with a strangled cry as his seed shot into her mouth in long, hot bursts. She swallowed him, taking all he had to give. She watched his cock jerk and licked the last drop from the darkened tip. A satisfied smile curved her lips as looked up at him.
He pulled her off her knees and into his arms. “You’re so damn good, Sam,” he murmured, his breathing still labored. His mouth covered hers, melting her bones, curling her toes. Sighing, he buried his face in her hair and nuzzled her neck.
She held him tight, never wanting to leave that spot, but they had to. Night had fallen and she needed to focus on the job ahead of them now and not on Hunter’s hands, or his mouth or his cock. Dammit. Carefully, they made their way back to the cave in the dark. If she was going to keep her mind on her work, she was going to have to keep him at arm’s length.
They decided to watch the rest stop in shifts. Samantha took the first watch while Hunter slept close by. He woke around three and took over while she slept. She slept pretty well, considering. She grinned, thinking it was probably the workout that helped. She woke around eight and yawned.
“Hey, see anything?” she asked, stretching.
Hunter looked over at her and winked. “Mornin’, gorgeous. No, not yet. Got a call from Gabriel, though.”
“I didn’t hear the phone,” she said, pulling on a clean pair of socks and hiking boots.
Hunter lifted the binoculars and turned his attention back to the rest stop. “It’s on vibrate.”
“Ah,” she said. “So?”
“So, he said they expected activity today. Possibly this afternoon.” His expression turned serious.
“Good. Do you think I have time to walk back down to the creek?” she asked. “Girl stuff,” she added when he gave her a questioning glance.
Hunter thought a minute. “Okay, but don’t take long, and take your gun.”
“All right.” She strapped her pistol to her hip and headed out.
The rough path that led around the foot of a mountain to the stream looked a bit different in the light of day, Samantha thought. When the path widened and the cover of trees thinned out, she veered off to the side of the path, careful to stay in the shadows.
She had just reached the clearing when the rumble of a chopper overhead alerted her and had her ducking for cover. She glanced up to see it pass over and hover just as an arm grabbed her around the waist and yanked her farther into the undergrowth, under a thick bush.
“Stay down, Sam.” Hunter’s voice was a hiss in her ear.
“I’m down,” she groused back. “Why did you follow me?”
“I didn’t follow you. I heard the chopper.”
“How?”
“I was Special Forces, Sam.” There was an edge to his voice. “I also did two tours.”
No further explanation was necessary.
She recalled the conversation she’d had with Clara Abernathy. She figured that if he wanted to tell her about Kelly and his time in the military, he would. She wouldn’t ask him. Now definitely wasn’t the time to bring it up anyway.
“Well, I guess you’re a man of many talents,” she said flatly.
He lifted a brow. “You would know.”
She narrowed her eyes and chose to focus on the situation at hand.
“It was heading that way.” She stood, pointing toward the mountain peak as she brushed the twigs and pine needles from her knees. “Probably landed somewhere up on the mountain, don’t you think?”
He nodded, listening intently and watching her. “Let’s go.”
chapter twenty-two
There were few things in the world as beautiful to Hunter as the California Mountains, especially those in Butte County, “Land of Natural Wealth and Beauty.” Lush valleys, clear rushing creeks, and steep rugged cliffs had always fascinated him. The sense of history and continuity kept him grounded, reminded him daily why he had joined the army, why he had fought in the Middle East, why he had taken the post as sheriff in the small town.
Because some things were just worth fighting for. His uncle’s murder had shaken his world, had left him questioning values and beliefs that had sustained him all his life. He questioned them because he knew the killer or killers were close to home. Men he had been raised with, had fished with and socialized with. Not exactly friends or men he would trust in a bind, but people he knew.
Deerhaven was a small, intimate community. He knew about Miss Eunice, the elderly spinster who ordered her adult toys on a regular basis, and her widower neighbor, Charlie Beckett, who watched through the window on scheduled nights of usage. He knew about Tommy Austin and how he thought it’d be a good idea to whip his wife for sassing him one night on a drinking binge. He’d ended up with a goose egg and a mild concussion before he could follow through. She had been her baseball team’s heavy hitter three years in a row. Tommy never drank again.
And there were the parties out by the lake, and the regulars he could count on to keep things calm and safe there. The ones he was confident were likely to cause trouble. He knew everyone in the small town, had grown up with them in some form or another, and realizing that several of them were capable of hurting children, capable of treason, of murdering their neighbors in cold blood, it had hit him hard. He had always had a decided innocence where his little county was concerned.
Realizing that one of them could commit murder and still function normally had been a bitter pill to swallow, but that was just the tip of the iceberg.
/> Naïve … He admitted in some ways he had been. His training should have done away with that naiveté long ago. He knew the things men would do for money, for war, just for the hell of it. But seeing it so close to home had ripped away any sense of innocence he may have held on to.
Realizing how corrupt Henderson was had perhaps been the first step. The man was rabid, like a coyote stalking, slinking around in the dark, just waiting to rip out the throat of anyone opposing him. And that included Hunter and Sam.
“Henderson has an old hunting cabin up here somewhere,” Hunter said quietly as they pushed farther up the mountain. “I gave Gabriel the general location as I remembered it, but from the sound of the helicopter, I could have been a few miles off.”
He frowned, trying to place the exact location. It had been years since he had been through this particular area. He had been little more than a teenager, and he and his friends had been more interested in fishing the remote ponds than they were in Old Man Henderson’s pricey little shack.
“You think he’s hiding them there then?” Sam asked as she moved close behind him.
“Seems reasonable, but I’m thinking it’s probably more like a place to conduct business safely. Kinda like Jacob’s place, only a lot less secure.” He grunted, angry with himself for his inability to remember the exact location. “The helicopter landed on the other side of this hill, which is about five miles from the location I gave Gabriel.”
The sat phone he carried helped keep everyone abreast of their location. It would also be some help if things went bad. The problem was that often things went bad entirely too fast. In this situation, he knew that the dangers they faced could be more than either of them anticipated. He trusted Sam, though. She was smart and strong. Staying put wasn’t an option, anyway. It was their job to check this out.
The terrorist element had him most concerned. It was a very real threat, one that was more prevalent in the US than people realized. His contacts within the armed forces and friends who had served in the Middle East since September 11 reported the growing danger in America, Mexico, and Canada. The investigation into the possible terrorist cells traveling through Deerhaven and other counties was coming to a head. The situation was volatile.
“Hunter, you didn’t answer me,” Sam hissed, as they wound their way up the mountain, growing steadily closer to the area he believed the helicopter had landed.
“I know he’s got something going on up there.” Hunter sighed, bitterly aware of the fact that he had dropped the ball on this one. He should have checked the cabin months ago. “If he’s hiding someone, it’s members of the terrorist cells.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “It’s all connected, but the people he’s helping move for the flesh peddlers are merchandise. They would be run through the cave system. Henderson wouldn’t have any regard for them as human.”
“Good point.” Rage vibrated in those two words.
Henderson wasn’t away from town much; he’d never seemed to be a nature lover, so it had never occurred to Hunter to stake out the cabin, or to have Jacob do it. The location of activity so far had been confined away from the cabin, so he hadn’t suspected it. Which wasn’t a good enough excuse, as far as he was concerned. He’d missed it. Failing wasn’t an option. A sheriff had too many lives in his hands and one slip up could cost dearly. That was exactly what plagued him from the moment he was appointed to the post.
“The cabin is a perfect location,” he continued, as they rounded a stand of shoulder-high boulders that looked like sentinels standing watch over the forested valley below. “There’s a rough track that leads right into there about a mile from the rest area. It’s secluded and not well known. As far as anyone knows, Henderson sold the damned place years ago. The reason I know different is because I happened on it while doing a search of property taxes on Uncle Zachariah’s place after his death.”
He stopped on the other side of the boulders, leaning against one as he watched Sam lower herself onto a long, flat boulder nearer the ground. Her breasts were heaving beneath the soft material of her tank top, perspiration glistening on her upper chest and neck.
Tendrils of golden brown had fallen from her ponytail and lay along her graceful neck, tempting him to reach out to smooth them back. He wasn’t about to touch her. The woman was more enticing than was reasonably safe in the best of circumstances.
“So what next?” She frowned up at him, watching him cautiously.
Hunter sighed. “We’re gonna check it out. If nothing else, we’ll have verified proof that someone is there, which will give our federal friends a little more leeway in their investigation.”
“What about the kid?” she asked him softly.
Worry darkened her eyes and lent a regretful sadness to her expression.
“Sam, the kid is safer than you at the moment.” The child weighed on her mind, he knew. “There’s a unit working on that right now.”
She lowered her head, nodding in acceptance of the answer. That kid had worried her since the day of the accident. Hunter understood why, and he prayed they’d find him. If they didn’t find that kid, he wasn’t sure Sam would get over it.
“Come on, let’s get moving. I want to get off this mountain by nightfall and let Gabriel know what the hell is going on.”
chapter twenty-three
“We’re fucked,” Hunter breathed out silently, as they watched the cabin from behind a smaller stand of boulders than what he liked.
Lying flat on their stomachs, he and Sam had crawled as close as they dared to observe the activity going on around the large hunting shack. There had to be a dozen men, armed militants, milling around, unloading the helicopter that had brought in either more inhabitants or more supplies.
There was Henderson, by God, in the thick of it, shouting out orders. Rodgers and Decker were there as well, surveying the activity going on around them. Hunter narrowed his eyes, paying attention to the armed men rather than those he already knew. He felt fear strike his heart as he recognized several of them.
The terrorists’ faces were flashed across every police bulletin going through the nation the year before. Updates were sent through regularly, and he knew priority had been given to capturing several of them.
“Shit.” Evidently, Sam had realized the danger involved here as well. He could hear the thread of worry in her voice and cursed the moment he had decided to venture up the mountain.
He had left Gabriel and Logan a message, so they weren’t without recourse. But dammit, the other men wouldn’t think to check on them until nightfall. Hunter had assured them that he and Sam could handle this scouting mission. Information gathering mostly. They were supposed to be their eyes.
“Time to get the hell out of here,” he muttered, motioning her back. “Stay down, Sam. Keep behind the boulders until we get back over the edge, then we’ll run for it.”
They inched back, heading for the small ledge they had worked their way around earlier to get into position to see the cabin. The area they had come through was heavily sheltered, with numerous stands of boulders and large rocks as well as a thick undergrowth. He prayed it would keep them hidden from the men who were no doubt watching for a nosy hunter, or a dumb sheriff. If they were caught, they would die. It was that simple.
Hunter knew Sam was more than aware of this. The merciless intent of the terrorists had been displayed on many occasions. Many of the men now hiding on this mountain had been linked to the planning and details of recent terrorist attacks.
“Hunter, this is bad,” Sam whispered, as they worked their way slowly back along the hard ground. “There’s too many there. How the hell do they intend to get them out without being seen?”
“Same way they got them in,” he growled. “A few at a time, or in campers or RVs. They’re smart and they’re dangerous. A deadly combination, baby.”
Hunter glanced back, seeing the ledge as it came nearer. They were almost home free. If they could get past that without being sighted, then they had a cha
nce of making it off the small mountain and back to relative safety.
They were inches from success when the first shot was fired. The bullet barely missed Hunter’s head, burying in the trunk of the tree beside him instead.
“Fuck! Run!” Hunter screamed out at Sam, terror thudding hard and fast through his bloodstream as a stream of Arabic began to echo through the mountain.
He heard Sam curse, but as he jumped to his feet and cleared the ledge, he saw she was already running. He knew the bastards back at the cabin were running too. Running with semi-automatic weapons that could easily take Sam and him out with a properly placed bullet.
“Stay close to the trees!” he yelled as he came up on her, covering her from behind. “Keep your head low.”
Goddam it, he cursed silently as he spared a quick look back to see several of the terrorists top the ledge and come over it flying.
“Run, Sam!” He pushed her harder, knowing their chances of outrunning the bastards were slim to none, and their weapons hopelessly inferior. It was damned hard to battle automatic rifles with the standard issue police pistol.
Gunfire began to fill the silence of the mountains. Hunter jerked his revolver from its holster, firing back wildly, hoping, if nothing else, to force them to lose any proper aim they had on them. Bullets buried in the trees, ricocheted off boulders, and kept them zigzagging, dodging the gunfire as they fought to escape to the relative safety of the vehicle at the bottom of the mountains. God, he had to get Sam out of there.
“Run faster, baby!” he screamed out at her as he glanced back. There had to be half a dozen of those bastards coming down the mountain after them and even more behind them.
The air filled with the sound of gunfire, angry voices, and the thunder of his own heart. He pushed Sam harder, screaming at her, urging her to run harder, faster, to get to the safety the caves would afford them. If nothing else, there was communication there, the vehicle. They would have a fighting chance.
