Bounty (Hunted Love Book 2) (9 page)

The weight of the knife was impressive, telling him whoever designed it intended it for serious use. Even closed it fit his palm perfectly with the butt of the handle protruding from the outer side of his fist. A flick of his thumb produced the blade with silent precision. A close inspection impressed him enough to ask about price, and work out a deal with the woman. And during the process, he learned a bit more about the Hell Raiders.

***

Rita stretched, feeling suspiciously like she thought a cat might after a good meal and a nap in a sunny window. Turning to her side, she opened her eyes, and remembered she hadn't slept alone. Enjoying all the delicious little aches he'd left as reminders, she pushed herself to sit. The rumpled bed told quite a story, and her clothing strewn across the floor told an earlier chapter.

Her checks flushed with the memories before she could push the sheet away and stand, and the quick shower held even more reminders for her. As she dressed, she couldn't help wondering where he'd gone, and wishing he'd stayed put in her bed. No help for it, though, as much as she'd prefer to spend the day in bed with Falon Harris, she
did
have a business to run.

The note Falon left on the pillow brought a new flush to her cheeks as she considered his promises for later. A glance at the clock sent her rushing out the door and down the outside stairs. She'd already missed the lunch rush, the one time of day she tried to always be in the Rattlesnake. With luck she'd get the end of the midday crowd. Of course, it wasn't really necessary, she just felt better, more connected, if she touched base with her main groups of customers each day—lunch, early dinner and honkytonk.

Through the back door and into the kitchen, only the new guy on the fryer noticed her arrival and offered a half-grin. So, the staff had been talking about why she might be late. Or rather, who. A faint trace of anger rolled over her, and she just as quickly put it away. If she'd wanted to keep her time with Falon secret, she should have made certain no one saw them together. With her own half-smile, she passed through the kitchen and on into the bar.

As usual for midday, the bar was quiet, with only beer passing over it until evening. Out on the floor, everything looked as it should. Satisfied, she finished her tour of the Rattlesnake, spot-checking for cleanliness as she went. Her staff knew her obsessive tendencies about keeping everything as clean as possible, and they worked hard to meet her expectations. From the time she took over, the Rattlesnake had only one sanitation point cited in regular inspections.

Back in the kitchen, she marked items off her daily checklist one at a time and finished her twice weekly produce order. Most of the paperwork finished, she took a break to go find Georgie. Time to examine the security footage from the ruckus the night before. She needed to know everything she could about that jerk.

Tracking Georgie down took the better part of an hour, but finally Rita found her up on the catwalk tinkering with the mirrors she used to observe the entire floor.

She glanced over her shoulder when Rita approached. "Hey, woman. Found me a little blind spot. You know I'm a nosy bitch. Gotta see ever'thing anybody does."

An involuntary laugh erupted. "Yes, that you do."

"You going to tell me about your new playmate?" Georgie's forthright nature came as no surprise. If she wanted to know something, no matter how private it might be, she asked.

Oddly enough, Rita found herself reluctant to say anything about her time with Falon. He seemed… different. Not for giggling over with the girls. Damn, she must be getting soft or something. But she needed to say something to Georgie. She settled for a half-assed shrug. "Later. First, I need to go over the footage from last night. I want to know everything there is to know about that jerk."

Georgie nodded and made a final adjustment to one of her mirrors. "Okay, let's go. I figured you'd want it, so I already have it pulled up, just have to press Play." She led the way back along the concealed 'catwalk' that had been built into a questionable decorative feature of the upper wall, supposedly intended to give the impression of a barn. Only minimal work turned the offset into a great security feature that often came in handy during the evening when the alcohol flowed.

Down the narrow ladder concealed behind a shelf in the supply closet, Rita held her breath. The claustrophobic space always got to her and she avoided it whenever she could. By longstanding agreement, she left the supply closet first, since she had a limited amount of time before she dissolved into a heap of nerves. The exposed entrance to the closet remained the only drawback she'd found to the catwalks.

Her escape made unnoticed, Rita made her way to the little office alcove off the kitchen and waited for Georgie. Good time to take care of some of the never-ending paperwork. By the time she finished a payroll tax withholding form, Georgie arrived with her usual eerie silence and started the playback from one of the security cameras.

Rita tried to follow Georgie's explanation of the events unwinding on the screen, but from the time Falon stepped into the camera's frame, the rest of the screen faded. His watchful expression did nothing to hide the sexy tilt of his mouth. What the hell was wrong with her? She hadn't mooned over a man like that since high school and Jeremy. The conclusion to that ordeal should be enough to make her kick Falon Harris out of the Rattlesnake and out of her life. But the memories of his kisses and the way he looked at her and the way he moved inside her combined and totally overruled that idea. She'd better be fucking careful.

Finally she managed to force her brain to focus on Georgie's words. "I done a little checking. That fucker is Kellen's college boy baby brother. Got some pretty heavy connections out west somewhere."

"So why the hell is he here?" Made no sense whatsoever. Someone like that? No need to be in a place like Stags Leap, even with his brother there. And the stalking thing? Too big a coincidence.

Georgie's expression turned thoughtful with a frown. "Well, I figger the only-est thing that would bring me here if I had that kind of life somewheres else is business I couldn't trust anybody else with. Family shit."

"Makes sense. So he has some kind of business with Kellen. But what? And why the trouble last night?" She needed to talk to Falon. This wild-hair idea might turn out to be the final piece of the puzzle for him.

Mind busy with the possibilities, she started through the security tapes again. There had to be something else. Occupied with the scene unfolding on the screen, Rita almost missed the faint prickle along her spine, just a touch of awareness, easily ignored. Almost.

Instead, she whirled in time to intercept Falon as he bent toward her neck. She managed to catch his mouth with her own. He adjusted quickly to deliver a smiling nip to her lower lip followed by the velvety rasp of his tongue across the sensitive skin. Oblivious to the lack of real privacy, he dropped his hands to cup her ass and drag her close and lift her to the hard ridge of his erection. His rough growl sent a thrill straight to her lower belly and suddenly she didn't give a damn who might see.

Falon finally drew back from a kiss that left them both breathless. "Let's go somewhere quiet?"

"Where?" The warmth of his breath across her face took away any thought of refusal.

"We'll see when we get there." He delivered another quick, hard kiss and released her but kept hold of her hand.

Rita took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay."

****

To Falon's surprise, Rita managed to leave Georgie in charge and get the hell out of the Rattlesnake in record time, all without having to answer any uncomfortable questions. Georgie only took one pointed look at where Falon's hand rested, grinned, and agreed. In what he figured was a monumental act of will, Rita ignored Georgie's grin, and walked out right through the front door with his hand plastered to the upper curve of her ass.

Outside, he drew her a little closer to his side and delivered a stinging smack of satisfaction to the same cheek his fingers had just been splayed across. "Good girl."

Her little jump in reaction only brought her closer. "What was that for?"

A gentle touch to take some of the sting away, and to start a game he fully intended to enjoy to the fullest. He grinned. "You followed directions."

Rita leaned back to look at him, trying to gauge the comment, elegant brow raised in question. A wink from him relaxed her a little, as she surmised he was only playing. "Really? And I take it you like women who follow directions?"

The more serious question in her eyes hit him like a punch to the gut, made him take a quick breath. "Oh, yeah." He had to lean down for another taste of that vulnerable mouth. "Yeah, I like when you follow my directions." Fuck, at this rate, he'd never even make it out of the parking lot.

The force required to start them walking again shocked him a little. Just standing there, close to her, just touching her, would get him there way too fast. A deep breath, intended to calm his racing pulse, did nothing but draw her scent into his brain, creating images that would forever associate the smell of strawberry shampoo with the black silk of her hair sliding over his skin. Instant hard-on. Thank fuck they'd reached his bike. He needed the distance.

Except watching her coil all that hair into a thick braid did nothing to help his situation. In fact, it presented possibilities and images that threatened his sanity at the moment. He dragged his reluctant mind from that subject to a mental list of the contents of his saddle bags. And right into the minefield of images of her naked and ready on his bedroll. Fuck! He needed to get her out of his system.

Helmets safely in place, he swung onto the seat and waited for her to slip behind him. Somehow, he managed to get the bike started and get them out of the parking lot, entirely unsure how far he'd be able to drive.

She sat differently this time, her thighs snug around him, her heat right up against him, her hands high up between his thighs so her thumbs brushed against his balls with every stroke of the engine. Did she have the faintest clue what she was doing to him?

Lost in the sensations she created, he nearly missed the turn he'd been directed to take. He caught it at the last possible second, skidding a little, which made Rita's hands tighten. Yeah, he wasn't going to make it much longer. He leaned on the throttle and took them rocketing along the dangerously rough and narrow road. Adrenaline blended with need in a haze more intoxicating than any alcohol.

Finally… Finally, the old barn he'd been told to watch for appeared on the left. He slowed and eased them into the dirt lane that led through a small copse of trees and into a small meadow. The lane ended, forcing him to stop the bike to avoid choking it with weeds. Not like he could wait any longer anyway.

Rita obeyed his pat and squeeze to her thigh, and slipped out from behind him. He didn't take time to turn the bike, just stood it where it stopped. Immediately, he bent to unpack the saddlebags. Otherwise, one glance at Rita, and his plans would go to hell. He would have to have her right then and there. Fuck, his hands shook so badly he needed two tries to open the buckles. What the hell was wrong with him? And what was it about this woman?

With everything finally unpacked, he stood and turned to face her. His lungs refused to work. She'd removed her helmet and taken her hair down to spread the silken cloud around her shoulders and breasts. A shy little gesture of her hand broke the spell and his chest heaved again.

Unable to speak, he reached for her hand and led her through the high grass toward a sprawling oak tree in the middle of the meadow. The plant growth around the tree was more reasonable, having been denied full sun. Falon pressed down an area and spread his bedroll over the springy cushion the weeds provided.

Rita knelt on the blankets, looking small and apprehensive. Falon lowered the soft-sided cooler he'd brought along, and dropped to sit.
Slow and easy.
He desperately held to the reminder. It was important. Especially since he just needed to come fast and hard inside her. Deep breathe. He could do slow and easy. Hell, he could do any damn thing.

"This is like…a cocoon, or something." Rita stared around at tall grasses shielding them from the outside world. A daisy blossom had already become victim to her nervousness, as she shredded its petals methodically.

Careful to avoid eye contact and pushing her anxiety higher, Falon concentrated on opening the cooler. "Yeah, it is. A good place for a quiet, lazy afternoon." Back to the food. "I'm not sure what all we have here." Mysterious jumble of containers and packages.

She laughed a little. "Where'd you get it?"

"That little grocery around the corner. I asked the lady at the deli to put together a picnic lunch." He grinned at the memory. "First thing she asked was if I needed the picnic to get laid."

"Oh, my God, really?" She laughed again. "Well, I think you've met Miss Bea, then. She's something." Some of the tension drained away. "So what'd you tell her?"

"I told her I needed it for energy because I had a long afternoon planned." He stopped unpacking to watch her response.

Her eyes flared brighter for an instant. "Do you, now?" The first hint of the bold woman from the night before finally showed.

Had his own desperation influenced her, made her nervous? Probably. And there wasn't much he could do about it except press on. "I do." He pushed the cooler aside and leaned toward her. "Come here Rita."

Her lips parted on a quick breath, but she complied, scooting closer. Lowered lashes concealed whatever might have shown in her eyes.

Falon reached for her, let his fingers brush along her jawbone on their way to cup the back of her head and draw her to his kiss. She opened for him with no sign of resistance, sighing gently as he licked along the inside of her lower lip. Her little sounds sent heat flashing along his nerve endings.

She moved in a little closer and raised one hand to slip along his shoulder. Her fingers brushed over the short stubble at the back of his habitual military haircut, raising chills all along his neck and shoulders. Her other arm rounded his shoulders to draw him slightly over her while her mouth clung to his in soft submission.

Unable to do anything else, Falon took the advantage she gave and pressed her down to the blanket, stretching half atop her. In a strange mix of reluctance and eagerness, he left her sweet mouth and kissed along her jaw, down her neck, savoring the salty-sweet taste of her skin.

Now that the time had come, he kept tight control of himself. This had to be perfect. Her little moans pushed him to the edge, aroused every predatory instinct he possessed. The urge to take her hard and fast, mark her as his alone, struck like a torpedo and took his breath away. He lowered a shaking hand to the hem of her shirt, and she quickly moved to assist, wriggling out of it.

Falon drew back a little to look at her. Dappled sunlight created patterns on the pale canvas of her skin, making him need to touch, to taste.

Then the dark blue lace of her bra caught his attention. "You are fucking incredible." The delicate fabric offered her breasts up like precious treasure, and left him powerless to resist even if he'd wanted to. He lowered his head to taste and she arched up to meet him with a ragged moan to urge him on. One hand slid behind her to part the clasp and pull the fabric away. She moaned again, pulling him toward her, wanting as badly as he did.

With nothing more than the burning drive to taste all she had to offer, he fell on her breasts, all finesse gone, nothing but the need to possess driving him. Somewhere along the way, she clutched at his shirt and dragged it off him, giving her the freedom to explore his shoulders.

He could never have enough of her sweet breasts, but instinct drove him to more. He pulled back to watch her, eyes heavy with desire, chest heaving. "Rita, this is… you are…" He trailed off. Fuck, he didn't have the words for it. Instead, he brought shaking hands to her waist and opened her jeans. She helped, gasping for breath, and he had them both naked in a matter of seconds.

She lay there, waiting for him, watching him, legs parted slightly in invitation. His cock jerked, eager to accept, but he wasn't ready yet. Instead, he lowered his shoulders between her knees and spread her thighs. She was already swollen, half parted, glistening with want. With gentle fingers, he spread her wide to reveal all her secrets. Her hips lifted in desperate plea, and he obeyed with a quick flick of his tongue across her clit.

"Falon…" The strangled cry spurred him on to more exquisite torture. He kissed her entrance, deep and probing, lapping up her essence. Her hips rolled, reaching for more, while her nails raked his scalp in sudden demand.

He smiled against her and settled to teasing her clit with feather-soft licks. One finger slid inside her, first deep, then backing out to stroke that last sensitive inch. She writhed, inner muscles clutching while her fluids flowed over his fingers. Relentless, he continued until her mewling cries combined with the state of her body to tell him she was right at the edge.

Good thing, because his own body refused to wait longer. He rose over her and stopped with the head of his cock just at her throbbing entrance. She lifted her hips, reaching, crying out for him.

Muscles quaking with the force of his restraint, he sank into her, determined to make it last forever. But Rita had other plans. She curled her legs around his hips and dug her heels in to push him deeper, her body clenching in all the right places.

The cry she made, high and demanding, broke the last of his control. He drove into her, hard and fast, needing more, and more. She clung, nails scoring his back. The pain only enhanced the tension of the nuclear blast building at the base of his spine.

Her body suddenly went tight, her inner muscles convulsing. Falon let go and the resulting explosion disintegrated everything, every fiber of him. And when he came back together, something was changed. Something small, but definite.