by Freya Barker
“I couldn’t remember if I told you that or not,” I jump right in.
“You mentioned something and I’ve been in touch with my contact at the Durango Police Department, who filled me in. Caleb and Katie will cover Max, and I’ve got Mal and Neil taking turns covering Beth. We just finalized two cases so the docket is clear. We’ll get it sorted, Clint.”
“I don’t care what the cost. I’ve got money, and what I don’t have I can make.”
“Beth’s family. Not gonna need your money.” Gus clips.
“Beth’s my woman. She got hurt when she was with me. I fucking know little or nothing about security, but I’ll be damned if I let others take care of what’s my responsibility.” I get loud. I hear Gus, but he’s got to understand this is for me to carry. One fucking way or another.
“Gotcha,” is all he says before hanging up, but I hear the respect in that single word. He heard me. Looking at all the eyes turned my way, so has everyone else. So I do what I do best—hammer some nails. I head outside to my shed, grabbing my quilted work shirt from the hook by the door. For the next hour, I work on framing the walls for my design. I’m hellbent on having it up before the first snowstorm.
-
“You okay?” Beth’s voice sounds from the doorway to my workshop, where she lets her eyes scan the interior. Not much to see, just some stacks of lumber, new and old tools, a floor full of wood shavings, and a few wagon wheels I aim to use at some point. Not sure for what yet. She takes it all in with a little smile on her battered face.
“Where is everyone?” I ignore her question because I don’t want to let her know how not okay I am.
“I sent them away. Told them I wanted to rest, but I really just wanted to find you. Mal’s here, though. He’s sitting in his truck out front, refusing to come in. Says he can keep a better eye out from his truck.” She shrugs her shoulders looking a bit lost.
“Come here,” I tell her, putting down my tools, wiping my hands on a rag, and holding them out to her. Without questioning me, she moves right into my arms, a deep shuddering breath leaving her lips. Resting my cheek on top of her head I ask, “What can I do for you, my beautiful Bean?” I don’t miss the sharp intake of breath or the little snort that follows and hold her a little tighter.
“Only you would call me that,” she says, a smile in her voice.
“I’d better be the only one calling you that to your face,” I grumble, to which Beth chuckles.
“Tell me what you’re working on?” She moves from my arms and starts shuffling the drawings on my workbench.
“What is this?”
“I’ll show you.” I grab her hand and pull her out the door to the old catalpa tree in the yard.
“What am I looking at?” she asks when I turn her to face it, slipping my arms around her waist from behind and resting my chin on her head.
“Tree house.” I feel the hitch in her breath before she turns in my arms and plants her face in my chest. “Boy needs a tree house.” When she doesn’t say anything, I go on to explain. “I’ve got time. Now that the doc’s cleared me for half days at work, I can tinker around with it in the afternoons.”
Lifting her face back, she looks at me with wet eyes but a smile on her face. “You’re too much, you know that?”
“Far from it, but I sure hope I can be just enough.”
Without another word, Beth leads me by the hand into the house and straight to the bedroom. With a little shove, she has me sitting on the side of the bed, inserting herself between my legs. Bending over, she kisses my head, before working her hands into my shirt and pushes it off my shoulders.
“Babe...maybe—“
“Hush,” she stops me. “My choice. I need you.”
Not about to argue with that, I allow her to divest me of my work shirt and the white T-shirt underneath, but when she drops down on her knees in front of me and goes for my belt, I grab her wrists.
“Not gonna happen. Not today.” I let her know in no uncertain terms. I stand, pulling her up with me and start stripping her of the T-shirt she changed into after we got home. The other having been covered in her blood. Her heavy breasts hang beautifully in the lace cups of what undoubtedly is another one of her Victoria Secret bras, but since they’re even more beautiful freed, I quickly undo her bra and strip it off her. There is so much vulnerability in the way she holds herself, I try to show her with my hands and my mouth how much I worship her body. I lave attention on her face, albeit very carefully, from her neck and shoulders to the soft swells with their dark pink nipples taut in my mouth. Finally nipping and licking my way down her slightly rounded belly that forms a perfect cushion when I’m laying between her legs.
Beth’s eyes go wide when I slip down to my knees in front of her and slowly pull her pants and undies down to her ankles. Tapping one and then the other, I let her step out before I toss them aside, slipping my hands around to dig my hands into that fine ass, while I bury my face in her front.
“You smell so fucking good,” I manage as my lips and tongue find their way to her pussy, already wet with her arousal. Fuck me. I could die a happy man right this moment. Demanding as I like to be in the bedroom normally, this soft loving worship is what I need today. “Lay down for me, baby.”
She settles on the edge of the bed before laying back, letting her legs hang open over the side, allowing me a clear view of her wet swollen pussy. “Beautiful,” I murmur, sliding my fingers through her wetness. Listening to her breathing to tell me how to touch her.
“I could feast on you,” I tell her before settling my mouth over her core.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep, but I am starving.
Dusk is settling in outside the window and the house is quiet. Pulling on a discarded T-shirt from a pile of clothes on the side of the bed, I go in search of Clint, who apparently left the bed at some point, after bringing me to orgasm not once but twice. First with his incredibly talented mouth, and the second time when he fucked me sweetly before tucking me to his side. I must’ve dozed off in my postcoital daze, because I can’t remember a damn thing after that.
The living room and kitchen are cast in shadows and there’s no sign of him anywhere. Where the hell is he? A quick peek out the front door shows me the rental car is still there, and I know Jed still has Clint’s truck.
A quick trip back to the bedroom to put on some proper clothes, and I’m out the door, toward the shed, figuring he’s probably in there. Odd. It’s dark in his workshop too. A little niggle of fear is starting to twist in my gut, and the hair on my neck is standing up. Now fully aware of the last of the light fading fast, I hurry back to the house, sneaking peeks over my shoulder. Whether it’s just paranoia or someone is really watching me, fear chases me into the house, and I rush to slam the door shut. I need the phone. Rushing into the kitchen, I snatch the portable off the counter and immediately dial Gus’s number, the first person I think of.
“Yeah?”
“Gus, it’s Beth. I fell asleep and when I woke up Clint was gone. I mean I can’t find him anywhere and the car’s still here.”
“Sit tight. I’m gonna call Mal. I’ll call right back.”
Before I even have a chance to respond he hangs up. I’m not liking this—not liking this at all. Suddenly, I need to know Max is all right, but I’m afraid to use the phone in case Gus calls back. So the next few minutes I simply stand there, panic sneaking through my body. I jump when the phone rings in my hand, almost dropping it.
“Gus?”
“I’m coming over now. Don’t answer the door to anyone.”
Suddenly feeling like eyes are on me, I slide down on the tile kitchen floor, my back wedged against the cupboards. I force myself to take deep breaths to try and slow down the loud pounding of my heart, when I pick up on a slight scraping noise. I still completely, not breathing until I hear it again. It’s coming from the back door, sounds like someone’s trying to get in. I frantically look arou
nd for a place to hide, but the only thing close enough is the laundry room, and that’s on the other side of the fridge. On hands and knees, trying to stay in the shadow of the cabinets, I slowly move in that direction until a loud shout from outside freezes me in my tracks. What sounds like a scuffle ensues, complete with slaps of skin against skin and banging against the sliding door. It’s so loud, I almost miss the knock at the front door, but when I hear Gus yelling my name, I get up. With a quick glance behind me that only shows a struggling mass of limbs, I run to the front door, which slams open when I’m just a few feet away.
“Fucking hell, woman. What—“ Looking over my shoulder, Gus spots the fight outside my door and runs right past me to the back. He flips the lock on the slider and yanks it open, causing the wrestling mass to tumble into the dining room. I recognize Mal but have no clue who the other person is, it’s hard to see with the balaclava on his head that only leaves his eyes and mouth clear. I was half expecting the guy from the parking lot, but he was tall and this one is clearly smaller than Mal but fighting fiercely. The click of the safety coming off a gun stands out sharply and stops all movement, even before Gus speaks.
“Been a while, but I figure I still remember how to pull a trigger.”
Mal uses the distraction to grab the other man’s arm and twists it behind his back, snapping handcuffs on his wrist, before grabbing the other arm and securing that one too. Then he rips off the ski mask revealing a young man with blond hair and vaguely familiar features. He frisks the guy, coming up with a small gun, concealed in the pocket of his parka.
“Who the fuck are you?” Mal grinds out between his teeth, grabbing the kid by his collar and tossing the gun on the table. Gus tucks away his own gun, now that they have the guy handcuffed and under control.
“Lookin’ for my sister,” was his quick answer, eyes flicking back and forth between Gus and Mal, before turning to me. Suddenly I placed him.
“You’re Tammy’s brother. You’re Brian.” I’d seen him once or twice since the wedding, but always in passing. He looked like Tammy, though. Same narrow nose and wide set blue eyes. Even the color of his hair was the same. I remember thinking they could’ve been twins the first time I met him. Gus looks at him through narrowed eyes.
“What the hell are you doing here, breaking in?”
Brian’s eyes turn back to Gus and he shrugs his shoulders. “Figured I’d talk to her,” he says, tilting his head in my direction. “Maybe she’d heard something.”
“With a gun? Normally people would use a phone or knock on the door. Not try to break in.” Mal points out.
“How did you find her? Beth doesn’t live here.” Gus wants to know, and frankly, so do I.
Again a shrug of his shoulders and it appears Brian’s had his fill of talking, slamming his mouth shut as his gaze lands on the floor.
“Where’s Clint?” I ask, my mind swirling with confusion as I take in this bizarre stand off in Clint’s house. Brian’s head snaps up looking at me blankly.
“I don’t even know who that is,” he says belligerently, just as there’s a sound behind me.
“The fuck?” Clint is standing in the doorway, looking at his front door, which is hanging from one hinge. Then he swings his head up and takes in the scene before him. Without thinking, I take a few running steps and throw myself in his arms. “What the hell, Beth?”
-
-
I swear, I’ve been gone for less than twenty minutes to find my front door busted in, and some random guy in handcuffs in my house, Gus and Mal hovering over him. Then Beth, who greets me like I’ve fucking returned from the dead.
Beth was still sleeping deeply when I woke up from a satisfied nap. She didn’t even wake up when I went to clean up in the bathroom, so I figured I’d quickly call Jed and get our trucks sorted. I left a note for Beth on the nightstand and called Mal, who said he had eyes on the house. From where I had no fucking clue, ‘cause I couldn’t see his truck or him, but if he says he’s there, then he’s there. Jed picked me up in my truck and after switching out some tools over to his truck in the motel parking lot, I drove mine home again. Twenty fucking minutes tops.
-
“Anyone wanna tell me what the fuck is going on?” I bark, as I fold my arms around a sniffling Beth.
“I can,” Mal volunteers. Thank fuck. “Just after you left, I see this guy sneaking around the side of the house to the back. I follow and catch him trying to unlatch the lock on the backslider. Beth apparently woke up to find you gone and called Gus, who in turn couldn’t get a hold of me since I had the phone on vibrate and wasn’t gonna alert this punk here by answering. He came through the front door... in a hurry.”
“I left you a note,” I tell Beth, whose fingers are clutched so tight in my back, I’m positive I’ll have marks. Her head snaps up at my words.
“There’s no note,” she says, shaking her head.
“There is, sugar. On the nightstand.” Without a word she releases her death grip and takes off down the hall to the master, coming back only minutes later with the familiar scrap of paper clutched in her hand and an embarrassed look on her face.
“It must’ve blown off when I threw back the covers.”
“Come ‘ere. You were worried about me?” I try to tease the embarrassment from her eyes, wrapping her back in my arms.
“Just worried something had happened before I could get proper return on my investment,” she deadpans.
“Smartass. You know you’ll pay for that.” I smile into her hair.
“Right. Hold that thought. Gotta call the sheriff in on this, maybe he can get a straight story out of this guy, because breaking into a house just to talk to someone is not processing well. Besides, I’d still like to know how he knew where you were.” Gus grabs the third guy’s arm and starts marching him to the door. “I’m gonna secure him in the truck. Mal, you call and fill in Carmel, would you?”
The next ten minutes, until the brand spanking new sheriff gets here, is spent getting me up to speed as to who the kid is, what he claimed to be doing here, and on how come former Deputy Drew Carmel was suddenly sheriff. You miss a lot when you’re out for a month. Apparently Drew was installed in office by the board, shortly after Joe permanently resigned to work with Gus at GFI Investigations. By the time there’s a knock on the door we’ve haphazardly closed for now, to keep out the cold, I think I’m pretty much caught up. Not that I’m any less confused, which seems to be the general feeling.
Beth’s still plastered to my side, which by the way I’m not complaining about in the least, when Mal lets Drew and a new deputy in through the wrecked front door. Almost immediately, the deputy leaves with Gus to switch the guy from his backseat to the patrol car and take him in to Cortez. Drew turns to Mal first for his recollection of events before turning to Beth.
“And how come Gus showed up, kicking the door down?” Beth, who’s been very unnaturally quiet and subdued, goes stiff under my arm. “Beth?” Drew prompts when she’s not exactly jumping to answer.
“That would be my fault.”
Drew turns to me, a surprised look on his face. “I thought you weren’t even here until after all this happened?”
“Technically, but I left Beth sleeping. She woke up not knowing where I was and called Gus, which was exactly the right thing to do.” It’s true, it had been the correct thing to do under the circumstances, and in hindsight, maybe lucky that he happened to walk in when Mal was struggling with the guy, cause from what I can figure, the dude did have a gun on him.
“Tell me your side, Beth, from the moment you woke up.”
“I looked for Clint. He wasn’t in the house and I couldn’t find him in his workshop either. I was freaked out and called Gus.”
“His workshop?”
“Out back, in that big shed. I figured for sure I’d find him there, but it was dark.”
“And you didn’t hear or see anything out there?” Drew pushes.
“I was uncomfortable.
I remember the hairs on the back of my neck standing up, but no; I didn’t see anything,” Beth confirms, getting a little pissy at the prying questions. .
“Look, Beth, I’m just getting the logistics because it would seem you may well have been very damn lucky you didn’t bump into him.”
Apparently Beth hadn’t yet considered that judging from the sharp intake of breath. “But he’s Tammy’s brother,” she protests weakly.
“May well be, babe, but his story stinks,” I point out. “You know it and I know it. He claims to only want to talk to you, but won’t tell anyone how he found you, or why he’s breaking into my house to do it. I’m not even gonna get started on that gun Mal took off him.”
“Fine. I’m not a complete idiot, you know.” Beth’s cute when she pouts. Doesn’t do it often, but it’s a little bit of vulnerability that makes her somehow more approachable.
I tighten my arm around her shoulder and turn her body into mine, ignoring her resistance. Bending down, I whisper in her ear, “Watch that smart mouth. I have plans for it.” Just like that her body settles against mine. I love how she responds. My cock loves it too.
-
Drew, his deputy, and Mal are off to Cortez with the hapless Brian, leaving Gus behind. He is talking on his cell just outside the front door. The moment he’s done, I’m going to get his help rehanging the door he kicked down. Seems only fair. Beth was on the phone earlier, talking to Katie to check on Max. Katie and Caleb decided to keep him with them for security reasons. Beth was not on board with that at first, but when Gus reminded her that both Katie and Caleb are trained operatives, she had to admit Max would be better off with them for the time being. At least until this mess is sorted. What he didn’t say was that Max was as much a potential target. I think she clued in fast though, because now she is puttering around in the kitchen, determined to ‘feed’ us. Guess she needs the activity. I had another one in mind, but it appears that’s going to have to wait.
