Stealing the Cowboy's Hat: Chosen Book 18

by J. D. Light

  Copyright © 2018 J.D. Light

  Chapter One

  I hadn't seen his face yet, because I was still pretending to be asleep, but there were only a few people who would have the ability to sneak into my hotel room without making enough noise to wake me, and even though I'd woken up when slim, sure fingers had wrapped around my bare ankle, he'd managed to somehow get both of my wrists tied before I had any idea there was a person in my room.

  Sneaky little human.

  When he finished with my second ankle, there was a slight pause before a quick jerk and then I was being forcefully starfished. I let my eyes open then, and I stared up at the entirely black figure leaning over my bed, night goggles in place.

  It didn't matter. There were still only a few beings I knew that had the ability to do what he had done, and since I knew Hollyster just happened to be in town, taking over my cabin, it was a pretty easy conclusion to draw.

  "What are you doing?" I asked dryly, giving the knots at my wrists an experimental little tug.

  He'd actually done pretty well.

  "You're even bigger in person," he said, tilting his head to the side. The familiarity of his voice washed over me, and I prayed everything down south stayed under control. It wasn't like it was my first time fighting an erection while listening to his tenor. "We're going to talk some things out."

  "I could get out of this," I grumbled, wondering just how true that was.

  Anyone else in the world and I'd probably be out of it already. I didn't leave myself vulnerable very often. But this was Hollyster. The very definition of my kryptonite. And smarter and more resourceful than any other being I'd ever been in contact with.

  I'd never officially met the man. I'd seen him a few times from a distance in conferences, and our buildings were actually on the same grounds. They were just over a half mile apart. I'd been tempted to hunt him down more times than I cared to admit and annoy the shit out of him on purpose, since I'd started arguing with him a few months before when I'd been assigned a partner from his department.

  The people he'd sent me really were pretty competent, but they were also people and therefore annoying as hell. The last guy had been particularly irritating in the fact that he had maybe said some things about wanting to screw his boss. Who just so happened to be Hollyster.

  Throwing my favorite motorcycle at him hadn't been a conscious decision on my part. I mean, it was my favorite and I'd just gotten it out of the shop a few weeks before, but when his mouth started running, I'd reacted and the next thing I knew, my bike was flying through the air.

  He was a shifter. He'd been out of the hospital that night. With a concussion.

  But honestly, he was lucky that was all he had.

  "And yet you haven't budged," Hollyster commented, referring to the lack of effort I'd put into getting free. "Is it because you like it?"

  It was because he'd used the nylon wrapped rope that was thick as shit and took a little longer to claw through. It was also hard as hell to tie, so I was pretty impressed.

  I smirked, sniffing the air. No scent. I didn't know if I was relieved or irritated by that.

  I'd been dying to catch his scent since the first argument we'd had over the phone, when I'd made his agent cry and he'd informed me that I was a stubborn bastard and threatened my balls if I ever made another of his people cry. I hadn't, because I kinda believed him and I'd since then found out that he was very adept at everything he did.

  I'd also been more than a little afraid. I was far more attracted and drawn to him than I thought was normal and I wasn't sure I wanted to know what that meant.

  "Delphinium?" I growled, letting my head fall back to the pillow.

  I almost had the rope at my wrist cut. If he'd tied me like I thought he had, getting one undone should get them all undone.

  "Duh." He pulled the mask off over his head, leaving the goggles in place, a pleased smirk on his face. "I'm a human in a shifter world. Of course, I'm going to block my scent."

  I couldn't fault him for that, even if it did irritate me for some reason. His department was all about stealth and sneaking. He was one of about four total humans. The fact that he led the department above even the shifters, some of whom had been there for years, spoke pretty highly of his abilities. But he'd definitely have to keep his scent blocked to not be detected while out on a mission.

  "I thought you were going to meet me at my cabin," I grumbled, irritated that my plans for the early morning had been ruined. "Tomorrow."

  I'd wanted to sneak over to the cabin when it was still dark and do basically the same thing he'd done to me, already knowing it was going to take a lot more work to get Hollyster Roman to tuck tail and run. He wasn't where he was in his career because he was ball-less.

  "You didn't take as long in Purdy as I thought you would." No longer looking at me, he moved around the bed, opening the drawers I hadn't bothered to fill on the dresser and then wandering over to my bag. He wasn't looking at me, so I shamelessly tracked him the entire time, watching the way his body moved, never happier to have shifter vision. "You got in town yesterday," he said, shrugging before dropping to open my bag. "I got sick of waiting for you to quit pussy-footing around."

  I smirked. He'd been bored. "So you decided to sneak into my hotel room?"

  He glanced at me over his shoulder, a smirk on those sexy lips. I wished I could see his eyes, but those damn goggles were in the way.

  After a few more moments of digging, he must not have found what it was he was looking for, because he closed my bag back up, putting it in very much the same position he'd found it, and again, I was impressed by this human who seemed to be exceptionally good at what he did. It was almost like it was second nature for him to not leave a trace of himself behind.

  Standing, he once again glanced over his shoulder, raking my body with those goggles before walking toward the bathroom. "I know you were awake for at least the last ankle," he said, stopping at the little sliding door on the closet and opening it just enough to peek in and see that I hadn't put anything in there either, before moving on. "Why didn't you stop me?"

  He moved like a fucking cat. Grace and stealth. I had no idea how a human moved like that, barely even disturbing the air around him. He also had the most amazing ass in those tight black pants which made it nearly impossible not to watch how it moved when he walked.

  There was no way I was going to be able to keep my body under control at this rate. Not with him slinking around the room like that.

  "I was awake as soon as the rope touched my first wrist," I growled, glancing down at my dick, glad I'd at least worn boxers to bed instead of sleeping completely in the nude like I usually did. I was happy to see the sheet bunched at my hips.

  "Ah," he said, poking his head out of the door to the bathroom. "I guess I was thrown off by the fake snoring."

  I didn't fucking snore.

  I glared, but he'd already disappeared back around the corner. "So," I said through clenched teeth, pissed that the stupid fucking rope I'd been sawing on, had apparently not been attached to what I'd thought it had been attached to, and I was having to feel around for the one that he'd tucked behind part of the headboard, meaning I had to fish it out with my fat fucking hands. "What is it you want to talk about?"

  "Your dick is going to rot off if you keep using this shit to flog the log with," he said, coming out of the bathroom and holding my lube bottle with a disgusted look on his face. He walked right over to the trash can and threw the mostly full container away before turning to look at me. "What did the boys in Purdy want?"

  I blinked at the trash can for a moment before narrowing my eyes on him. I couldn't say
that I liked that shit any more than, apparently, he did, but it was all they'd had at the airport and I knew I'd be spending my days in this hotel room thinking about him being in my cabin.

  I returned my focus to his face, noticing how, though I couldn't see his eyes, I was pretty sure he'd been running those goggles over my body again.

  "How did you know I was in Purdy?"

  "I've got a tracker on your purse," he said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder to where my satchel sat along with my hat and boots before dropping into a crouch and reaching between the mattress and the box-spring.

  "I don't have a purse," I growled, glaring over at the top of his head. "And how did you know about my man bag?"

  His head snapped up and a slow smile rolled across his lips. "Man bag?" He chuckled and if I wasn't so busy being irritated with him and trying to get the fucking rope cut now that I had the right fucking one, I might have thought it was the sexiest fucking sound I'd ever heard. "It's always right up there in your purse cubby in the background during our lovely video chats."

  I felt the mattress being jostled around as he moved his arm up and down in there. "How did you get to it? Does anyone else know about it?" When he slid his arm up, jolting me a little more, I growled. "Cut that shit out. What if there was some kind of needle being hidden under there by one of the past tenants. You could end up with some kind of disease or something."

  "Like you haven't already checked every single surface in this room once. I'm just making sure you were thorough." He slid his arms back out and stood, once again moving that gorgeous body the few feet over to my stuff, grabbing the bag and plopping it on the bed next to my hip. "It's my own personal little tracker. And I snuck in here when you were in that meeting with the grease guy. I'm sure I'll have to change the batteries before too long, but it's been working pretty damn good for a few days."

  He twisted slightly on the large snap on the front and I growled when the thing came off, and he turned it, so I could see the device along with three watch batteries stacked on top of each other.

  "Grease guy?"

  "Mm hmm," he said, putting the clip back in place. "The one with the slicked back hair?" He curled his lip, clearly not a fan.

  "Sam."

  "Sure."

  "You don't like Sam?" Not that I really blamed him. The man was more than a little slimy, and I hated the way he talked about some of the women we worked with.

  I was as averse to people as they got, but it had nothing to do with anyone being or not being women, and everything to do with them being people with mouths in the first place.

  He shrugged, once again watching me. "I don't really care about Sam, except that he seems like a sleaze-ball."

  I didn't know what it was about his tone of voice, but I could tell there was more to why he didn't like the man. I just wasn't sure what that was.

  "He is," I said, my eyes narrowed on his face.

  I wished he wasn't wearing those fucking goggles. I wanted to be able to see his eyes. To see the expression on his face.

  "Purdy?" He asked, picking up my bag and walking over to drop it next to my boots, bending to pick up my hat.

  "Hmm?" I asked, momentarily distracted by his gorgeous ass. Thankfully, the rope finally gave way as he dropped the hat into place on his head. "Oh, they want me to see if I can figure out who all is tied to Heath Dalton." I moved silently, glad the bed didn't have squeaky springs. "They have men going in for stakeout rotations, but they haven't gotten anything so far that would even indicate he has friends. Which means he probably does all his talking inside his building where they can't get to. That's where we come in."

  I waited until I was done talking to move up behind him, standing with my chest inches from his back. Somehow, I knew he knew I was there, though he didn't show any sign that he'd known I’d moved at all.

  "We?" He used one hand to wiggle the hat by grabbing the brim, testing how loose it was, and I leaned in, reaching up and gripping the front of his throat in my hand.

  I felt his skin against mine for the first time. It was soft and warm and the thought of sliding my hand lower to see if the rest of him felt the same way had me growling.

  I knocked the hat to the floor, trying not to notice the way his head lifted so pretty for me, so I could have access to his throat.

  "Of course, partner," I said into his ear, pressing my chest lightly against his back. "I could shift and slit your throat in a few seconds."

  I felt something cold slide up the inside of my thigh, coming to a stop at the crease between my balls and leg and I had to force myself not to flinch away as I recognized the slight bite of a blade. "You could, but you'd lose something really important to you. You know, nobody has ever told me whether or not they would grow back."

  "They won't," I growled, releasing him and stepping back, glancing down to see that the blade had cut my underwear slightly and that I was pointing north in a bad way.

  Bending awkwardly to retrieve my hat off the floor, I snorted before spinning and making my way to the bed. How could one human be so incredibly terrifying and deliciously arousing at the same time?

  I was pretty confident he hadn't seen my problem, so I flopped onto the bed, placing the hat in my lap and lounging back against the headboard, watching as he lifted his shirt slightly in the front, placing his knife back in a sheath he was wearing around his waist and then, dropped the shirt back in place before turning to face me.

  I tried to play it cool while he ran his goggled gaze over me again, but I couldn't help but feel a little exposed, especially given I'd accidentally posed myself as some kind of fucking cowboy pin-up on a rumpled bed.

  Clearing his throat, he made his way over to the other side of the bed, reaching toward the lamp and grabbing the side of his goggles. "Light," he warned before pulling the goggles off and switching on the lamp.

  I'd always loved his pretty, light brown eyes. On every video chat we'd had over the last few weeks, I'd caught myself going almost moony while looking into the fiery orbs of anger. Well, they were usually angry when they were focused on me. But seeing them in person was absolutely unbelievable.

  I somehow managed to hold back the gasp, but just barely as the melted butterscotch of his gaze adjusted and then focused on me.

  He was fucking gorgeous.

  "You know digging into Heath Dalton is dangerous, right?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and flopping on his side on the bed, facing me. "And you telling me about this makes me think you don't believe I'm one of the guys who has his back which is interesting, because I kind of assumed you'd automatically be distrustful of me given our history."

  "If I've learned anything about you, it's that you are deadly with a knife––" When he smirked and looked down at where my ruined boxers were covered by my hat, I snorted. "And though you’re mouthy and annoying as fuck, you do seem to have integrity."

  "Sweet talker."

  "Plus," I said, shrugging against the headboard. "Lethal with knives or not, I can still kill you."

  He batted his eyes sweetly, taking on that falsely innocent look he always gave me when he was pointing out what a pain in the ass I was being. "You can try."

  Chapter Two

  I don't deserve this. I'm a good person. I'd been repeating those words to myself every thirty minutes since I'd slipped into that hotel room in the middle of the night to find a half-naked Adonis of temptation and temper-tantrums sprawled like my most delicious fantasies across that king-size bed.

  Who the fuck was that fucking gorgeous? That wasn't normal or acceptable when you took into account that he was also the most hard-headed, grouchy asshole I'd ever met.

  And if I hadn't already been pretty much obsessed with that stupid fucking cowboy hat, him sitting there against that headboard with that motherfucker lying on his lap like he was in some kind of photospread for a dirty cowboy themed magazine or calendar or something, I definitely was now.

  And he growled. About everything. Everything. I had no idea
why that turned me on, but it did. I was half chub twenty-four-seven because it was like his grumpy, growly-ass voice just reached out and grabbed me in the dick every single time he spoke to me.

  I'm at half-chub right now just fucking thinking about it and he isn't even in the room.

  "What are you doing?" he… growled from the doorway and my cock jumped and I very nearly dropped the bar I was pressing directly on my face.

  "Masturbating," I grunted, not bothering to look at him, getting two more before racking it and letting my arms fall to the floor, stretching my chest muscles.

  "That would explain why you are working with so little," he said, his voice still barely above a rumbling mumble.

  Slowly, I lifted my head, raising an eyebrow at him as I took in the smirk on his face. Had he just joked at me?

  Glancing down at my crotch pointedly, I smirked back before letting my head fall back to the bench. "I think you can see that's not the case."

  There was a grunt that I think he might have thought was some kind of response and then a pause. Sighing, I sat up, not sure what to think of the look in his eyes when I met his nearly chartreuse gaze.

  "How long are you planning on staying here?" He asked, scowling.

  Bless his hide. They made medication for the type of mood swings this man was having.

  "Well," I said sweetly, batting my eyelashes at him. "I didn't realize we'd be best friends so fast. Don't know why I thought it would take longer for us to become so close. You're so pleasant." When all he did was continue to scowl, not showing any signs of moving from his sexy leaning on the doorway, I sighed, rolling my eyes. "I let the hotel room go for a week."

  He scowled harder. "You're still living in a hotel room? You've been here for six months."

  I shrugged, standing and moving to remove the clamp on one side of the bar while he moved to do the same on the other. "I've been busy doing loads upon loads of paperwork," I said, putting the clamp aside and and pulling weights. "It's weird, every single time you place someone in a position like, I don't know, with a partner in a different department, you have to do all this paperwork. And then you have to do paperwork when they leave a position."