Skye Cree Boxed Set Books 1 - 3

by Vickie McKeehan

  That was the agreement he’d made. He always had to share what he’d snared. But sometimes a guy had to do what he had to do.

  As Brandon drove past Sea-Tac Airport in the misty fog of early morning, as a jumbo jet rumbled overhead about to land from some unknown destination, he worked on his story. He didn’t doubt for a minute that the group would want an accounting of how he’d spent his time tonight. He’d failed them already by not bringing them the redhead. Because of that, he’d had to suffer their wrath. Not only that, he’d lost his cut of the take. Ten grand would’ve kept him from having to get a job. Now, he might have to go to his brother-in-law and beg for a spot on his third-shift roster loading smelly fish onto trucks. Having to get a job would definitely cut into the time he spent roaming, hunting down his next quarry.

  But even if the group gave him a rough time, there was no way he could go back and undo what he’d done. He’d taken matters into his own hands—again. His constituents couldn’t find out about Jenna. If they did, he’d suffer their retaliation and have to go on the run. He liked Seattle. This was his home. He was familiar with the streets, knew where to find what he needed. Why should he leave it just because his boss had issues with the way he did things?

  Just because the guy called all the shots didn’t mean he owned Brandon Randle Hiller. No sir, no one owned him. He’d had enough of that in prison.

  But he’d better come up with a good story, one that would keep them from knowing he’d taken the twelve-year-old on his own, done with her what he wanted without so much as thinking of sharing her with the others. Because if they found out he had done anything to bring the cops sniffing around, he already knew the consequences. He’d been warned by the head guy not four months earlier and by some of the others along the way not to get greedy.

  If they found out, they’d get rid of him—for good.

  Remembering the threat and how exactly it had been delivered by the boss man himself, Brandon started working on his alibi, going over several scenarios in his head that offered the best account of how he’d spent his night.

  When nothing came to mind right away, he decided he’d have to think on it some more while he was digging Jenna’s grave.

  Once he reached Edgewood he took a back road into Tacoma and headed toward Commencement Bay. He left traffic and streetlights behind as he turned down a darkened, gravel road.

  As the blue van rumbled along the unlit path, he hoped he was doing the right thing. Some people might think it was stupid on his part to bury the girl here right under the boss’s nose. But sometimes the obvious was the best solution. Whitfield would never think to look in his own backyard, not in a million years. No one would.

  It didn’t make sense to Brandon that the guy acted like he hated his own woods. If the place had been Brandon’s he’d have made the most of living out here, secluded and remote. A person could do what they wanted living so far away from busybodies. In Brandon’s mind, some people just didn’t appreciate how lucky they had it.

  Because this wasn’t Brandon’s first time to the Tacoma property, once he got his bearings in the dark, he made a left turn next to a rundown mobile home. He came to a stop, making sure there were no lights on in the trailer. When he figured it was safe and he’d waited long enough to see if anyone looked out the window at the sound of an engine, he kept going, past the tree line until he left the gravel altogether and hit a dirt road.

  When he reached the gate, he knew for certain it wasn’t locked, but it was closed. Damn it, he’d have to get out and trudge in the mud to get the damn thing opened. He didn’t want to get stuck out here in the muck and bog in the dark. With the headlights to help him see, he pulled the gate back wide enough so the van could move through.

  After getting his shoes filthy, he crawled back into the van, and knew he still had a good half mile to go before he reached the place where he’d been part of digging a couple of graves before. Brandon had been here on two different occasions with other members of the group when they had needed a place to dispose of bodies, specifically girls who had up and died on them. Because of his familiarity with the area, he knew where the best place to dig was and he intended on making this quick.

  At least the girl was small for her age and wouldn’t require the hole to be that deep. Good thing she wouldn’t take up much space.

  The van had to go through a shallow stream and past a thicket of naked hickory and maple that looked like the trees had forgotten to bud several seasons ago. As soon as his headlights landed on the clearing, an area of recently turned earth came into view. He cut the engine, got out and went to the back. Before opening the doors, he glanced around, checking for any hint that someone might have spotted him. When he saw nothing out of the ordinary, he got to work, getting out the shovel he’d brought.

  He had to admit the area was more than a little spooky this time of night. When he’d done this kind of thing before, it had been in broad daylight with the sun shining bright on his shoulders and he’d been in the company of others. Now, alone, he considered every noise—the hoot of an owl, each snap of a twig, each chirp of a cricket—a possible sign his activity had been discovered.

  Brandon shook off the cold along with the chill crawling up his back. He had to remind himself there was nothing out here but the bones of others, certainly nothing that could hurt him.

  He let his adrenaline spike when he started digging through the wet earth, the mire and the muck until he had to stop to clean off the mud that stuck to his shovel. While he flicked spade after spade of topsoil into another pile, he considered how he should get major points for already taking the initiative and coming up with a substitute to please the boss. He might’ve already lost the redhead, but hadn’t he given the group a replacement in record time? Knowing he might still have amends to make, Brandon realized that keeping the boss happy had to be priority one.

  Because of that he began to dig faster. Maybe if he hurried he’d get to reap the rewards of his creativity.

  Chapter 14 Book 1

  Josh woke to the sound of rain batting the glass. Gray light filtered through the stingy slice of open curtain covering the floor-to-ceiling windows. Because he’d taken his watch off he couldn’t tell what time it was. Late morning, he decided, after doing his best to twist around to see the time on the alarm clock only to realize that if he moved too much he’d wake up Skye.

  Since his shoulder still bothered him some but felt better than it had in two days, and because he had a beautiful woman nestled up against him, Josh decided work on this Monday morning would have to wait. Out of habit though, he began mentally going over his schedule for the day.

  But just as he was getting into his mental to-do list, a sleepy, sexy voice mumbled in his ear and interrupted his train of thought. “Do we have to get up? It’s so nice right here.”

  He’d take this distraction any day of the week and twice on Sundays. Skye looked tousled and rumpled. He couldn’t quite bank his lust. But he did his best to throttle back. “Not at all. You can stay and sleep as long as you like. I should probably get up though, take a shower, check my emails, contact the office, let them know I haven’t died since Friday night.”

  She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes with the heel of her free hand, the one that wasn’t tucked into Josh’s rump. She blinked at her surroundings and did her best to ignore the bare chest she found herself snuggled up against. “What time is it?”

  He rolled to his back, taking her with him to glance at the time on the clock. “Almost nine. We got less than five hours sleep. Why don’t you…?” He made the mistake of gazing down at that face, those eyes. Even with tangled hair and a mussed-up look, the woman bordered on stunning. There ought to be a law against anyone having eyes that mesmerizing who didn’t get her eight hours of beauty sleep. He had an overwhelming urge to run his hands in all that hair.

  Lying half atop his chest, Skye found that free hand drifting down to the distinctive hard lump under the cover. Like a magnet it se
emed to draw her there.

  “Don’t play with fire,” Josh cautioned, stilling her hand. “I’m only human, Skye.” This time he did run his fingers through her hair, smoothing out some of the knots as he went. “God, you take my breath away though.”

  She cleared her throat. “Josh, there’s something you should know. This is exactly the kind of thing I’ve avoided—” She took a long, deep breath.

  “What kind of thing?” he asked, trying to put a casual tone in his voice, hoping that maybe if she opened up about it…

  Skye chewed her lip. How could a grown woman be so nervous and so reluctant to admit she hadn’t been with a man before other than the sleaze ball who’d taken her virginity? Clearly uneasy, she cleared her throat again. “I tried to date a couple of times in high school. It didn’t…go well. A couple of years later I tried again after meeting this guy in the coffee shop on Pike. I guess I was about twenty. That time we tried kissing…then…when…things…when he wanted to take it to the next level—” She shook her head. “I liked him just fine. It wasn’t that at all, I just couldn’t…bring myself…to…go there.”

  “We’ll take it slow. It doesn’t have to be right this minute.”

  She let out a huge puff of air. That meant he got it, there was no need to draw him a better picture, Skye decided. “That’s just it. I don’t want to take it slow. I’m twenty-five, Josh, which means I’m practically dead in the water, sexually. It isn’t fair. I want to stop letting that bastard win this part of my life, too. I’ve let him win far too much as it is. I want to move past this—for good. It’s time, don’t you think?”

  “Now’s not a good time to expect objectivity on my part.”

  In a whisper, she added, “But…you could help me with this? Please.”

  Josh saw her lick her lips, not in a suggestive way, but more like a nervous habit. And it was that little gesture that had him swallowing hard right before he raked his hands through her hair again. He drew her up until their eyes met. “If you’re sure it’s what you want.”

  When she nodded, he murmured in her ear, “Then don’t think of anyone else but me, Skye. No other time or place, just right now, right here with me. Put everything out of your head and think of me, hold on to me.”

  “You’ll show me what to do? I mean…I don’t—”

  “Shh. Beautiful Skye,” he murmured and ran a finger across her cheek, noted her eyes were as big as saucers. That look told him she needed seduction with a taste of the reward yet to come. Because she didn’t have a clue of the possibilities and because he wanted to be the one to show her, he covered her mouth, gently, trying for easy and tender.

  As she clung to him, the kiss spun out like molten flares streaking brightly across a warm summer sky in June. For the first time in her life Skye understood desire, its power, its energy, its flavor. She felt like Josie Geller in Never Been Kissed, standing on that pitcher’s mound on a warm spring day as Sam Coulson planted the big one on her lips.

  Josh knew it was up to him to set the pace. He tugged on all that hair again, moved his mouth to her ear. He lingered, brushing and grazing before skimming along her cinnamon skin to her shoulder. But when he came back to her mouth—fiery need had him sinking in—and drowning.

  He banked that, and chewed lightly on tender flesh, another shoulder, an upper arm. Her short intake of breath urged him on. His hands skated along her back, unhooked the no-nonsense bra she’d worn to bed. Firm, small breasts stood at attention, nipples erect. Leaving a slick wet trail downward, Josh licked the tender tip to a rock hard bead before taking it into his mouth. Sampling, tasting, he feasted.

  She’d never felt anything so glorious. Pleasure rippled through her wave by lapping wave. Greed—pure and simple—had her wanting his mouth—everywhere. “Don’t stop,” she cried out. To make sure he understood she cupped both sides of his head and latched on.

  When she burst in climax, no one was more surprised than Josh. He’d barely gotten started, hadn’t even touched her yet, not really. But he reveled in his success and ran with it. His hands glided along her body until he reached the equally plain white panties. Breaching the cotton, it felt as if he’d stirred the embers in a roaring blaze.

  Fingers teased and got him a series of oh Gods along with a chain of ripples and quakes. Twice more, she came. To hell with slow, Josh thought and guided her hands to his shorts.

  Taking the hint, Skye slid them along his skin until he simply kicked out of them. Rolling her to her back, in one thrust, he dived in, the joining taut and tight. As incredibly overpowering as it was for him, he wanted her first time to be exceptional. He urged her legs to lock around his waist. A feral hunger rose up between them. Rhythm built. Pace quickened. Fierce need won out as they each came in a rush of shimmering light.

  And with it, the face of Skye’s past was erasing. A chunk of fear fell away.

  They lay there, wrapped, still bundled.

  He looked down into violet eyes. She looked up into his gray.

  “That was—” she puffed out a breath. “Is it always like that?”

  What was he supposed to say? He’d never been with a woman who’d ever popped before he’d even gotten to—the main event. “No. You’re very orgasmic.”

  “I am?”

  He chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You are.”

  “Was I okay?”

  “Skye, if you’d been any better, I’m pretty sure I’d be dead.”

  A giggle snuck out of her throat. “That was—amazing. You were…” She searched for a word, just the right compliment. She might have been a novice at making love but she’d read as much as she could about it online and in books. According to articles she’d skimmed on the Internet, men needed a certain bump to the ego afterward. Josh Ander had certainly earned a few accolades. “Do you design games like you make love?” Without waiting for an answer she whooshed out, “That was fairly brilliant, wonderful!”

  At the praise, he shook his head and finally rolled off. “If you’re trying to dish out kudos, I’ll take as many as I can get.” He tugged her up to a sitting position, took a long look at the view, eyeing her firm breasts. “What do you say we get wet?”

  Her lips bowed up into a wide grin, revealing a pair of delicious dimples, something he hadn’t noticed before maybe because since he’d met her she hadn’t done a whole lot of smiling. If it were possible, the toothy grin added even more beauty to her face.

  “Is that where we do it again, in the shower?”

  “Morning sex. Shower sex.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Two for two makes for the perfect start to a rainy day. Come on.” Grabbing her hand, he tugged her into the bathroom.

  She wasn’t prepared for the arched entryway or the lavish size of the room. This was definitely not the same place where she’d retrieved the first aid kit. “Ohmygod. This is like something out of a rainforest,” Skye uttered, clearly taken aback by the size of the shower stall.

  “It’s an energy efficient body shower with rain jets,” Josh explained, reaching around her to turn on the spray and push several buttons on a control panel.

  “It’s like that famous waterfall in Hawaii or maybe someplace just as tropical.” Gray tiled slate, in various shades, formed the three-sided enclosure. Four lighted showerheads rained down from the seven-foot ceiling while three more generously angled from the side. There was no annoying shower curtain to deal with or door to slide off its track. She’d never seen a shower with its own floor-to-ceiling window wide enough to let in all manner of light or one with music piped in. If she wasn’t mistaken Tchaikovsky’s Seventh Symphony poured from the speakers. There was even a place to park your butt while the water spilled over your tired muscles and worked out the kinks.

  Once under the steam, Josh lifted up her chin and said, “Your mouth is still gaped open. If you don’t close it, you’re gonna drown.” As if Josh read the expression on her face, he squeezed out peachy-smelling gel, rubbed it between his hands and began wor
king it over her shoulders and back. “And if you drown,” he continued, “we might not be able to do this.”

  Spreading his hands over silky skin and smoothing the foamy bubbles up and down her torso, he drew her against him, brushed her wet hair out of the way so he could nibble her neck. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? I got a little carried away.”

  “You did?” She shook her head and turned into his chest, elated at the idea of it. “I thought it would be uncomfortable but—I wanted you so much, I didn’t even think about how it might hurt.”

  “How about now? You’ll be sore.”

  “Really? I don’t feel sore. I feel energized, like there’s a new me. It was way past time, Josh. There’s no need to baby me.”

  Oh but he thought there was. He just had to find his control. “Mmm,” he muttered against her ear. “I don’t want you hurt, ever again.”

  She felt his hardness against her belly and went with instinct. No spectator this time while he did all the work, she touched. She explored. “Hmm, I promise I won’t be such a dud and let you do everything this time.” To prove it her mouth found his. It was a wondrous thing just to be able to run her hands over the strength in his shoulders, the defined chest, over lean hips and belly. But she didn’t stop there. She used her fingers to travel downward to stroke and caress.

  Two steps and Josh had her backed to the wall. Mist and heat carried him into the blistering kiss. Teeth gnawed at tongues. But hunger for her drove him to stake a claim and take. Need had him bringing her legs up and locking around him—to plunge deeper.

  Having him inside her was like wet silk. Skye wasn’t sure she could ever get enough. She let her head fall back and rode him full out, fast and hard until they both shuddered in fiery release.

  Back in the bedroom she pulled on her pair of jeans, and looked over at Josh, who stood butt-naked, his back to her while he dug through his dresser drawer for underwear and socks. “How come I don’t feel self-conscious or awkward? I thought I would. It seems so—natural now, watching you stand there in the buff.”