Boone’s Bounty

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  Her lips were incredibly sweet. He could be content with this…. But no sooner had the thought come than he knew it was a lie. His fingers were still damp from his intimate caress. As he stroked her cheek, he breathed in the aroma of her passion. The maddeningly erotic scent worked on him until tenderness became urgency and urgency became frenzy. He backed her toward the bed.

  If she hadn’t matched him in eagerness, he might have regained control, but she fumbled with his shirt buttons and tore at his belt buckle. She had his jeans open before she tumbled backward onto the mattress. Frantic now, he finished the job, nearly groaning in relief as he stepped out of the jeans and briefs and his erection sprang free. By the time he’d grabbed a condom, ripped open the package and rolled it on, she’d torn off her panties and lay waiting for him.

  His hungry gaze roamed over the intoxicating sight of her, all flushed and panting and ready. So ready. The bed was short and narrow, but it would have to do. He put a knee between her thighs, his eyes fixed on hers. Despite the forces raging in him, he paused. Now was the time to be careful. Now was the moment they would remember forever, and he wanted it to be right.

  “Hurry,” she whispered, “I want you so much I feel like I might faint.”

  “Me, too. But I’m not going to hurry.”

  “Boone.”

  “Bend your knees,” he murmured.

  She drew her knees up.

  Bracing a hand on either side of her, he leaned forward and lowered his head to brush her mouth with his. His heart beat like a crazed drummer, yet he had to maintain control. “Don’t let me hurt you,” he said. “Stop me if I’m hurting you.” He slid one hand between her thighs and stroked her damp curls. “Promise me.”

  “I promise.” She gasped as he pressed two fingers deep inside.

  “Too much?”

  “Not enough,” she said, taunting him.

  But he knew she was small, knew he would stretch her to her limits. Sitting back on his heels, he cradled a smooth thigh in each hand and guided her knees back and apart. His breath caught. There was the rosy entrance to heaven, glistening and waiting for him.

  He leaned forward again, watching her eyes. Always watching her eyes as he slipped his throbbing penis just inside. There. That was the emotion he wanted to see in those blue eyes. He had no right to claim her, but it was all he wanted to do. She was the mate he’d waited a lifetime to find. He trembled as he restrained the overwhelming urge to ram deep.

  “Good,” she whispered.

  Concentrating on the glow in her eyes, he pushed further in. Perfection. His heart ached for what they could have, if only…

  A fraction more. He’d had no idea of the ecstasy of being tightly enclosed in her hot sheath. The friction was incredible, and in no time he was balanced on the edge of an orgasm. Or maybe it was more than the friction that had created this powerful need for release. He longed to empty himself in her, in Shelby. To create a child. Dizzy with pleasure, he dared more.

  Her eyes widened.

  He started to ease back, but she clamped onto his bottom with both hands.

  “Keep going,” she begged. “Oh, Boone, please keep going.”

  “Shelby, I’m afraid I’ll—” Lose control. Love you too much to ever let go.

  “Keep going,” she begged, her breath coming in quick gasps. “Oh, please.”

  As he sank further, her body opened to him in a way that he’d never known, hadn’t even imagined was possible. She was inviting him into her soul.

  Then he felt her first contractions. With a groan of complete surrender he slid deep as they both came wildly undone. He captured her cries against his mouth as they held on tight and rode the whirlwind, locked completely and irretrievably…together.

  15

  AS THE WAVES of Shelby’s powerful climax receded, the tears came. She couldn’t have held them back if she’d wanted to.

  Instantly Boone tensed. “I hurt you.”

  “No,” she choked out, still sobbing. “Just hold me. I need you to hold me.”

  He cradled her gently, absorbing the torrent without protest or judgment. While he remained solidly within her, as if anchoring her to his strength, she wept in his arms.

  She cried for the ugliness she’d endured and she cried for the beauty he’d given her. Months of silent suffering poured out, feelings for which she had no words, sorrows she’d buried deep. He’d uncovered it all.

  At last she hiccupped to a stop, exhausted, but feeling a hundred pounds lighter, free of grief she’d bottled up for a long time. Her nose was stuffed up and no doubt her eyes were red.

  She gazed up into his beloved face and knew from his tender expression that no apology was necessary. They didn’t need to talk it out, or analyze why she’d cried. He knew. She didn’t even feel embarrassed about the way she must look, because she knew he didn’t care.

  Because he loved her. She knew it as surely as she knew the sun would rise. He didn’t need to say it. The truth was in his soft green eyes.

  “Lie still,” he murmured easing away from her. “I’ll get some tissues so you can blow your nose.”

  She missed him the instant he withdrew and levered his warm body out of the bed. As if he knew that, too, he pulled the comforter over her before he left the room. But a comforter would never substitute for his strong arms. And without him deep inside her, she felt hollow. She wanted him back with her, surrounding her, entering her, being one with her.

  No doubt about it, he was immense. She might be a little sore tomorrow, as if that mattered. Given time, her body would adjust to his size. Time—that might be the one thing she would never be given.

  He came back into the room—six feet, five inches of the most breathtaking body she’d ever seen. There was much to admire about this man, yet her attention went unerringly to his groin. Even at rest, his male equipment was impressive.

  But as he stepped into the light and held out the box of tissues, she noticed the big angry bruise on his shoulder. “You are hurt.”

  He smiled. “Can’t feel a thing.”

  She sat up and the comforter fell away from her breasts. “You should do something for that.” She took a tissue and blew her nose. “Ice or something.”

  “It’s probably too late for ice.” His gaze lingered on her breasts.

  “Then first-aid cream.” She noticed the direction of his gaze. She also noticed the twitch of his penis. Her body answered with a quickening of its own, but she was concerned about his shoulder. The bruise was a rainbow of colors. It looked nasty. “There must be something to take the pain away.”

  “There is.” His eyes grew hot as he reached for the comforter.

  MUCH LATER, Shelby fell asleep in Boone’s arms. The daybed was a tight fit for the two of them, which was exactly how Shelby liked it. Boone seemed quite happy with the arrangement, too, as he turned off the light and wrapped himself protectively around her.

  When he cupped her breast and pressed his groin against her bottom, she remembered his embarrassment waking up in the New Mexico motel room in exactly this position. This time, she thought as she drifted to sleep, he wouldn’t need to be embarrassed when he woke up with an erection. In fact, she quite looked forward to it.

  She awoke to darkness and movement as Boone eased out of bed. Turning over, she saw him pulling on his jeans. She whispered his name.

  He leaned down and kissed her. “I heard something. Probably Josh getting up to go potty. I’ll go check on him, make sure he didn’t pee in the closet. Keep the bed warm.”

  It probably was Josh, she told herself. Yet something didn’t feel right to her. And maybe Josh would need her. As Boone started toward the door, she leaned down and picked up her panties and shirt. She’d slip them on, just in case Boone needed her help with Josh.

  Not that Boone needed her help, she thought as she pulled on the underwear and pushed her arms into the shirtsleeves. Josh idolized Boone and would do anything the man asked of him.

  Boone stepped
into the hallway. “Josh?” he called softly. “What’s going on, buddy?”

  She had three buttons fastened when she heard Boone fall, hitting the floor in the hallway with enough force to shake the floorboards.

  “Boone?” Oh, God, he’d tripped over something. Josh must have left a toy truck in the hall, although she thought they’d picked up everyth—

  “Shebby! Shebby, help!”

  Her blood ran cold. Something was very wrong. “Josh! I’m coming!”

  She barreled into the hall and saw Boone lying motionless, his huge body nearly filling the narrow hall. She fought nausea.

  “Shebby! Help me!”

  “Shut up, you little monster! I’m your father, and you’re coming with me!”

  Mason. The blood roared in her ears.

  “No! You hurt Boone!” Josh screamed. “You hurt my Boone! Shebby!”

  She didn’t stop to check on Boone. Mason had Josh. But why weren’t the dogs tearing him apart? As Elizabeth started wailing, Shelby jumped over Boone and ran into the darkened bedroom.

  Inside she faced her worst nightmare. Mason had an arm around Josh’s middle while the little boy flailed and kicked at him.

  “You hurt Boone!” he screamed. “You hurt my Boone!”

  The dogs stood looking from the hysterical baby in the crib to the man and boy struggling next to the bed. They seemed bewildered and sluggish. The facts hit Shelby like bullets. Mason had found a way to drug the dogs. He’d knocked Boone unconscious or… No. Her mind couldn’t go there.

  But for now, she was the only one left to stop him.

  A sense of calm resolution came over her. If Mason planned to take that boy out of this house, he would have to kill her first. “Put him down, Mason.”

  “Not in this lifetime,” Mason said with a sneer. “I’m taking him and walking out of this house.” He took a step toward her. “Get outta my way, bitch.”

  As her eyes adjusted to the dim light she could see that he wore camouflage gear and his eyes glittered with an unholy fire. She looked for his weapon and saw some sort of billy club hanging from his belt. No gun. He was probably smart enough to know taking Josh at gunpoint wouldn’t look good to the courts. And he was arrogant enough about his physical abilities that he thought he wouldn’t need a gun for this job. He probably saw himself as on the kind of mission he imagined when he’d tried so hard to become a SEAL.

  She reached behind her for the door handle and flung the door shut. Then she backed against it and turned the lock. “I’m not moving. Put him down.”

  “You’re a joke. I could squash you like a fly.”

  “Don’t hurt my Shebby!” Josh screamed, and he began to cry.

  “Shut up, I said! Or I’ll give you something to cry about!”

  Shelby stepped forward, her rage solidifying into cold hate. “You so much as leave a mark on Josh and you’ll never get custody, Mason.”

  He glared at her. “I can sure as hell leave a mark on you. Most judges would understand if I went a little crazy trying to get my precious son back from the crazy woman who snatched him. So stand back and let me pass.”

  “No.” She flexed her knees and tried to remember what she’d learned in her self-defense course. She seemed pitifully inadequate for the job.

  Josh, however, was not. He grabbed Mason’s hand and bit him.

  Mason yelled in surprise and dropped Josh to the floor. “Son of a bitch!” He drew back his foot as if to kick the little boy.

  With a cry of fury Shelby launched herself at him, and to her surprise she knocked him backward onto the bed. The image of his foot drawn back ready to kick Josh brought out primitive instincts she’d never felt before. Lessons in self-defense disappeared in a red haze as she kicked, scratched and clawed. She wanted to kill him.

  But she was losing the fight. He grabbed her wrists and shoved her backwards, following her down to the floor with a snarl. Straddling her, he released one of her wrists long enough to backhand her across the face. She saw stars. Then his thumbs closed over her windpipe.

  “Stop, stop, stop!” screeched Josh, flailing at Mason.

  Shelby caught a glimpse of gold in Josh’s hand. He’d picked up his precious stone and was trying to hit his father with it, which might enrage Mason even more. While she struggled to pull Mason’s hands away, she tried to tell Josh to stay back, but Mason was choking off her wind.

  Josh’s aim was bad and his strength puny, but he managed to connect with Mason’s ear.

  With a yelp of pain, Mason loosened his grip on Shelby’s throat, clutched his bleeding ear and twisted toward Josh. “I’ll kill you for that, you little runt!”

  Desperately Shelby lunged for his face to bring his attention back to her. She succeeded.

  “Right after I take care of you, bitch,” he said, breathing hard.

  “If you kill either of us,” she rasped, “you’ll never get that money.”

  “Shut up.” He smacked her across the mouth and she tasted blood. “And you’re wrong. I have a new plan. I’m gonna burn this place down, all of you in it. So sad. Shouldn’t leave live ashes in the fireplace, you know. And guess what? I’m the kid’s only surviving parent.” His fingers closed around her throat. “Don’t worry. I’ll get the money. Why do you think I rigged up that little boating accident?”

  He’d killed her parents and sister. Filled with horror, she fought him as best she could, but her strength was going. The sounds of Josh yelling and Elizabeth crying faded as Mason choked off her air supply. A giant vise seemed to be squeezing her chest. A loud crash sounded somewhere in the distance, but she couldn’t make sense of it.

  Then came a roar, as if from some enraged beast, and Mason was lifted high in the air. As she struggled to draw breath into her burning lungs she heard furniture splinter. Summoning all her will, she rolled to one side and looked for Josh. She finally saw him. He’d climbed in the crib with Elizabeth and wrapped his arms around her, but she was still crying. Both dogs were cowering under the crib.

  Shelby crawled to the crib, put an arm through the slats and wrapped it around Josh. His small body quivered with terror.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered automatically. She didn’t know if it was okay or not. The two men fought like animals only a few feet away. She couldn’t tell who was winning.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered back, his voice shaking. “Boone gots him.”

  Sure enough, Boone had the upper hand at last. He held Mason down and his free arm worked like a piston as he pummeled the other man unmercifully.

  Shelby remembered how she’d felt when Mason had threatened Josh, and she knew if she didn’t do something, Boone wouldn’t stop until Mason was dead. She gave Josh a squeeze. “Stay here.”

  “You, too!”

  “No. I have to go. I’ll be okay.” She crawled closer to the men and tried to make her vocal chords work. “Boone!” she cried, but only a squawk came out. She moved even closer, cringing at the crunch of bone against bone as Boone hit Mason again and again.

  “Boone!” she squawked again. “Boone, stop! Boone, please stop!”

  No response. He seemed oblivious to everything but the task of eliminating Mason Fowler from the face of the earth.

  She swallowed and tried again. “If you love me, stop!”

  His head came up. His eyes held the wild spark of a predator as he gazed at her, and there was no recognition, as if he couldn’t remember who she was. Mason lay unconscious beneath him, his face bloody. But he was still breathing.

  “Boone, I love you,” she rasped. “Don’t kill him. You’ll go to jail. We can’t be together if you go to jail.”

  Slowly the killing rage faded from his eyes. He glanced down at Mason.

  “He’s not going anywhere,” Shelby said.

  “Josh?” Boone murmured.

  “He’s okay.” She turned toward the crib. “He’s taking care of Elizabeth.”

  Boone looked over at the crib. Then his gaze came back to rest on Shelby’s
face. He looked disoriented as he reached out a hand and lightly touched her cheek.

  Even that gentle touch hurt, but she forced herself not to wince. “I’m fine.”

  Slowly she stood and held out her hand. “Come on,” she said, her voice still hoarse. “Let’s get the kids and go call the police.”

  He put his hand in hers and got to his feet. They walked hand in hand over to the crib. She lifted Elizabeth out and he picked up Josh. But he didn’t move. Instead he stood there, as if in shock, while he held tight to Josh and gazed at Shelby and Elizabeth.

  Josh looked up into Boone’s stricken face and stroked his cheek. “Let’s cuddle,” he murmured.

  With a broken sob Boone reached out and gathered Shelby and Elizabeth into his embrace.

  TWO HOURS LATER, the police and the paramedics had come and gone. Fowler was in custody. Boone had given a brief statement telling the officers what he’d heard before he’d broken down the bedroom door. Good thing Fowler had admitted he’d arranged the accident that had killed Shelby’s parents, and Boone had regained consciousness in time to hear it. Fowler’s chances of getting custody of Josh were finished.

  Boone had gathered his charges in the living room by a roaring fire, unable to think of putting Josh or Elizabeth back into the bedroom after what had just happened there. Josh had insisted they all deserved gold stars, so Shelby had dutifully pasted one on each of them. She’d put Elizabeth’s on the back of her sleeper so she wouldn’t be able to pull it off and eat it.

  Josh dozed on the sofa clutching his blankie, and Elizabeth lay asleep in her playpen nearby, her monkey Bruce clutched in one tiny fist. Boone sat on the braided rug with Shelby tucked between his outstretched legs, her back propped against his chest. He knew she wasn’t asleep.

  Boone supposed the night wasn’t really cold enough for a fire, but he was. Every time he thought of Fowler’s hands on Shelby’s throat he turned to ice inside. He would have killed the bastard if she hadn’t stopped him.

  As he cradled her in front of the fire he thought of the words she’d used to penetrate his murderous rage. I love you.