Stripped Bounty (7 page)

R
osie wrapped
her arms tighter around Badger’s waist as he exited the freeway off-ramp and made a hard right turn onto the main road. She was fucking freezing, the T-shirt he’d brought her doing very little to keep her limbs warm. The fact that she was on the back of his Harley, pressed up against his hard body, her bare legs spread around his lean hips, had her other parts—the ones she should so
not
be paying attention to—overheated.

Rosie had no idea where they were going. The man of many words hadn’t told her. Just tossed the shirt at her, started his bike and ordered her onto the back of it. She’d complied, though it wasn’t like she’d had much of a choice. Running out of the club without grabbing her things—like her car keys and some clothes—hadn’t been one of her brightest moments.

But she’d panicked.

Swear to Christ, Alvaro, the fucking drug dealer who’d murdered her husband, had found her. She couldn’t believe it. The last Rosie knew, he was in jail awaiting trial. Without bail. He’d either been let out, or escaped, or—she really had no idea. Rosie swallowed down the wave of fear that rose in her throat. All she knew was the crazy bastard was standing in the far corner of the bar, watching her. And by the look on his face, he hadn’t come to pay his condolences or express his regret.

Badger turned off the main road into what appeared to be an older but well-kept neighborhood. Forcing the anxiety back, she focused on the houses. Older brick, stone, or wood-sided ranch-style homes lined the well-lit streets and Rosie glanced at each one, taking in their immaculately kept exteriors as they passed by each, making a series of lefts and rights, until finally he pulled the bike into a long, wide driveway.

He dropped the kickstand and leaned the bike to its side. “Hop off.”

She did as he said, careful not to catch her too-tall heels on the pegs or fall when she got her feet on the ground. Badger dismounted his cycle and punched a code into a small keypad by the two-car garage door. The panel raised as he mounted the bike again and then rode it inside.

After shutting down the engine, he got off and removed the folded bandana he’d tied around his forehead, then his clear shades. He glanced over at her. “You coming or gonna stand out there in the cold?”

Without answering, Rosie blew out a breath and moved toward him. Christ, it didn’t matter if he was being Mr. Quiet-Aloof guy or a dickhead barking orders at her, he was still hot. She hated that. A lot. At least he served as a decent distraction at that moment.

He was just so fucking…alpha. There really wasn’t a better word for it.

But what she hated more was the fact that she kinda liked it, too. A lot.

As the garage closed down behind her, Rosie followed him through a door, which opened into a far too neat laundry room and beyond, into a kitchen. He flipped on a light and Rosie glanced around, grateful for yet another distraction. Three walls were lined with dark pine cabinets—old but in pristine condition. All the appliances were modern, stainless steel and a decent-sized, oval table, with four chairs around it, sat in the center, just past the cabinets.

Terracotta tile spread along the floor and beyond into what appeared to be an open family room. From where she stood she saw a red leather couch, facing a huge stone fireplace with a rough cut dark wooden mantle. Mounted above it was an extremely large flat screen TV.

“You want a beer?”

Pulled from her appraisal of his home, Rosie turned to find Badger with his head stuck in the refrigerator. “This is your house?”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Beer?”

She sighed. “You have anything stronger?”

He nodded and closed the fridge door. Reached above it, opened the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels. “Strong enough?”

“Perfect.” She glanced away and chewed her thumbnail. Good old Jack would get the job done and definitely take the sharp edges off the nerves poking around her insides; would get the residual shaking still wracking her body to stop, too. Jesus, what the hell was she going to do?

Badger set two stout glasses down on the counter. “Ice?”

“No. Straight, please.” She tugged on the hem of her T-shirt. “So, you have some sweats I can maybe borrow or something?”

He shifted his eyes to hers, down her body to her legs before looking back to the glasses as he poured. “Not that’ll fit. But I’ll get you something else.”

After handing Rosie her drink, he walked out of the kitchen and through the attached den. She stared at his back until he disappeared down a hall to the far left of the room. He’d looked at her legs, in almost a clinical way. And as though he really didn’t like what he saw. When he looked at her in that way, she felt more self-conscious than a teenager heading into puberty.

Shaking off the thought, with glass in hand, she wandered into the living room. Rosie ran her palm over the soft leather of the back of the sofa. Before she had a chance to take more than one sip of her drink or do any further exploration of the room, Badger was back with a pair of boxer briefs and thick socks.

“Here.” He placed the items on the back of the couch. “Bathroom’s first door on the right.”

“Thanks.” She watched him as he brushed past her to a sliding glass door she hadn’t noticed yet. After opening it, he stepped outside. “Okay then.”

Rosie turned on the toe of her shoe and found the bathroom. There was nothing special about it, really. Except that it was clean. More so than she’d have expected. Basic toilet. Older vanity made of the same wood the kitchen cabinets were. Formica counter top. Bathtub/shower combo. Clean towels hanging on the towel bar. Maybe this was the guest bath…she closed the door and made quick work taking off her shoes and G-string and pulling on the briefs and socks.

Rosie took a moment and stared at herself in the mirror. Her face was still caked with her stage makeup. She looked like a damn circus freak. Turning, she found a narrow linen closet and opened it in search of—bingo, a washcloth. After wetting it down, she grabbed the bar of soap by the sink, and lathered the cloth. And set to scrubbing her face clean. Somehow being makeup free in front of him, in his home, felt a whole lot better than all glamoured up like some sort of…well, like some sort of stripper.

She still couldn’t quite figure out why he’d brought her there to begin with. It was clear to her, from the very start, where she stood with him. Which was to say: nowhere. After all, the man barely talked to her, even now in his home, he barely answered her questions and when he did speak to her, he kept it short. As usual. She was sure he had his reasons, but as far as Rosie knew, she’d never done anything to cross him. At least not anything she was aware of. The man made no sense.

Satisfied that she’d cleared away the evidence of her employment, she rinsed out the washcloth and draped it over the side of the bathtub to dry. She picked up her glass of Jack and downed the double shot in one swallow.

She was going to need it to get through the next…well, however long it was she was going to be stuck there.

A
fter shooting
a quick text to Deuce letting him know he’d taken off, Badger stood in the darkness of his backyard. With a cigarette dangling from his lips, he stared up at the stars. He was jumpy. His skin itchy. She was in his house, and about to be wearing a pair of his goddamn underwear and socks.

What the fuck was he thinking bringing her there? He hadn’t been thinking, and that was the problem.

Every damn time he got near the woman, his fucking brain short-circuited. All rational thought vanished and he got stupid. Putting her fine ass on the back of his Dyna was just that. Stupid. Worse, the feel of her arms around his waist and the fact that she fit against his back so perfect, struck something deep inside him, making him want to just keep riding. At least riding, he didn’t have to talk, he just got to feel.

“Can I get you more Jack?”

Badger exhaled the smoke he’d just drawn into his lungs, dropped his head and peered over his shoulder at her. She held the bottle of Jack in one hand and her empty glass in the other. She’d removed all of her heavy face paint and was completely makeup free. Perfect was the only word he could think of to describe her. He had to take another drag off his cancer stick before he could answer, and then another, because in addition to her naturally beautiful complexion, she looked so fucking sexy in that T-shirt paired with his boxers, his socks bunched at her ankles, he worried the instant hard-on he’d acquired might bust through his zipper. His dick was ready to shout out a salute of praise.

In an attempt to play it cool, he walked over to the small outdoor table and stubbed out his smoke and then downed what remained of his booze. “Sure.”

She moved to him, refilled his glass and her own. After setting the bottle down she raised her glass to her sweet lips and took a sip. Badger watched. He wasn’t a man of many words, but fuck him if he didn’t trust himself not to say something insane like “So, I got something you can wrap those fine lips around.” Because, yeah, that’d go over about as well as a bride getting caught fucking the best man in the backroom of the church.
Jesus. There’s a visual!

She took a few steps away from the table. “It’s really peaceful out here. What city are we in?”

“Phoenix.”

“Oh. It seemed like we’d—”

“City limits stretch pretty far.” He swallowed a mouthful of alcohol and then lit another cigarette.

She glanced back at him. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

Right. Perfect timing, and an opportunity to get his mind off of…her. “Yeah. About that.” He leaned his ass against the table. “You wanna share what the fuck happened?”

She faced him and tilted the glass to her lips, her pretty brown eyes locked on his, and Badger ground his molars together. She was stalling by way of distraction and it was fucking working. But goddammit, he knew in his gut she was in a heap of trouble. Something or someone had spooked her onstage and Badger intended to find out what was behind it.

Clearing his throat, he took a swig of the booze. After another drag of his cigarette, he blew out a long stream of gray smoke into the sky and then prompted her again. “Rosie, one way or another, you’re going to tell me what happened.”

“What happens if I don’t?” She moved back to the bottle and topped off her glass.

“You will.” Rather than turning to face her, Badger picked a spot he couldn’t see on the brick wall bordering his property to focus on and let out a grunt.

“I’m cold. Can we go back inside?”

“Suit yourself. I’ll be in as soon as I finish my smoke.” With his focus still trained on the back wall, he listened as the sliding glass door opened and closed. He’d give her a minute before he headed inside. Though being inside with her felt so much more risky than being out back. Inside, he’d be subjected to a clearer view of her perfect face and the scent of her sweet perfume. Badger ran his hand over the back of his neck and stared down at his boots.

At some point, this woman had turned into an Achilles heel for him. She was a weakness, and Badger didn’t tolerate weakness in anyone. Including himself. Ever.

He downed the remains of his drink, and the warmth of the whiskey settled nicely in his stomach. It’d take the edge off, help him regain a bit of control. After one last drag, he smashed his smoke out in the ashtray and moved back into the house. He looked around the den and found it empty. As he passed by the coffee table, he set his glass down and moved down the hall toward the bathroom. “Rosie? You down here?”

The bathroom door was open, light off, and he continued farther down the hall to the bedrooms. Lights were all off down there, too, but he checked each room before he made his way back to the main part of the house. “Rosie?” Where the hell was she? Badger moved through the den and as he entered the front formal living and dining room, he saw the front door closing. “What the
fuck
!”

Badger threw the door open and burst out to the front yard. She’d made it to the end of his driveway when he caught up to her. He grabbed her arm, halting her movement. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

She yanked her arm from his grip. “I’m leaving.”

“Like hell you are.”

“Badg— Aghh!”

In one motion, he grabbed her wrist, bent forward and tossed her over his shoulder. At that moment, there wasn’t anything that needed to come out of her mouth he was interested in hearing. She was coming back into his house whether she liked it or not.

“Badger, put me down!”

“Woman, I’m not gonna tell you again. You better close those sweet lips of yours before I give you something to occupy them with. You push me on this and I swear to Christ I’ll tan your ass while quieting your mouth. We clear?”

She went stock still as she let out a gasp, and the sound of it made Badger’s dick go instantly rod-hard again. This was not good. So not fucking good. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuuuuck
! Not. Good.

R
osie didn’t know
if she was filled with shock and disgust at being manhandled by him and being threatened with having her mouth occupied—she could only assume he’d meant with his dick—as well as having her ass tanned, or completely and utterly turned on at the sexually depraved promise of it.

Badger had just taken alpha male to a whole new level. How about badass-biker hot extra-strength-alpha male? Yep, that was the level he was at, and it was a level Rosie had never spent time on before.

She bit down on her palm in order to keep herself quiet…the urge to push him and see if he’d deliver on his threat raced through her like lightning and she figured the better option was to just shut the hell up. Which was insane. No one, not any-fucking-one, talked to her that way. Rosie didn’t take orders.
She
did the ordering.
She
made the decisions. And she did what ever the hell she wanted, when she wanted.

However—it appeared that would not be the case with Badger. Rosie was so clearly not in control of the situation, and that little realization, along with the Jack she’d consumed, had her head spinning.

Badger marched them straight back into his house and kicked the door closed behind them once they’d cleared the threshold. Faster than she could track, he bent forward and Rosie’s feet hit the floor. And then he was in front of her, backing her against the wall with his big, hard body.

The space around her disappeared and all she could see was him.

Rosie drew in a deep breath and every one of her senses came alive as his masculine scent flowed through her. With his eyes locked on hers, he placed one hand on her side, his thumb and fingers framing her waist. He rested his other palm on the wall, along side but above her head. Rosie raised her hands and placed them on his chest as a bolt of pure, undiluted lust spiked through her system and her damn knees went weak.
Shit.
“Badger…”

“Shhh.” He slid his palm up her side to just below her breast and Rosie bit her bottom lip in order to keep herself from moaning. His hardened gaze dropped to her mouth and then back to her eyes. “Goddamn. Can’t figure you out. Been trying since you walked in the bar that first day. So fucking different. Something behind your eyes, too. Hurt. Pain. Anger. Whatever it is, it’s baggage…” His voice was low, almost a whisper, but with a gravely tone to it that vibrated through her entire body, settling between her thighs.

He’d been trying to figure her out? How? When? That statement made no sense to her. The man barely looked at her. Rosie frowned trying to sort out the confusion racking her brain. But her mind flew in a whole other direction when Badger moved his other hand from the wall and ran a fingertip along her jaw and down the side of her neck.

Rosie lost her breath at the intimate touch, but then he clasped his hand around her throat. She gasped and automatically arched against him. He wasn’t hurting her or constricting her breathing, but definitely holding her tight enough for there to be no mistaking his presence. In reaction, Rosie’s nipples went instantly hard, and she knew he had to be able to feel them against his chest even through their layers of clothing because he let out a low growl. Which arrowed straight to her clit.

As Rosie tilted her head back slightly, his hand still firmly locked on her throat, his eyes dropped to her lips again. Was he going to kiss her? Holy fucking shit… God help her, she wanted him to kiss her. She was half out of her mind with the anticipation of it. Rosie had never been so desperate for a kiss in her life.

“Badger,” she breathed and slid her hands down his sides to his waist and gripped his shirt.

“Fuck me… I shouldn’t… But I have to.” Badger slammed his lips down on hers and Rosie moaned into his mouth as his tongue dominated hers. Tangling, stroking, and taking what he wanted from her.

He tasted of JD, cigarettes, and something wild. He tasted like sweet sin. And Rosie wanted more.

From the bottom of her feet to the top of her head, her entire body lit on fire. She ran her hands up his wide back and pressed her body tighter to his. Since Halloween this man had consumed her thoughts. For months she’d existed in a constant state of self-consciousness, and because of how he’d treated her, did her best to stay out of his way—completely convinced he hated her. But based on the fact he now had his tongue down her throat and his hard cock pressed against her pelvis, there was no way he hated her. Apparently he liked her. A whole hell of a lot.

Badger released her neck and moved his hand, fisting it in her hair as he tugged her head back farther. As if he’d been holding himself back forever, his kiss felt fueled by desperate need. And lust…lots of fucking lust.

It was the hottest goddamn kiss she’d ever had in her life.

Wanting more of him, Rosie rubbed her body against his and slid her hands under his T-shirt, over the bare skin of his muscled back. He yanked from her lips and she gasped for breath as he moved his mouth to her throat. “Need to fuck you,” he growled as he made his way down the side of her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin. “Need to fuck you so bad, I’m out of my goddamn mind with it.”

Shivers zipped down her spine and radiated outward, making every inch of her skin tingle. Holy shit…out of his mind with it? Was this really happening? The situation was totally out of her control—not in a way where she couldn’t stop it if she wanted to. She could. He’d stop if she told him to.

But she didn’t want him to stop. Rosie wanted to be fucked, but more so, she wanted to be fucked by Badger.

B
adger fisted
her hair tighter and pulled on the soft strands. She let out a little kitten moan and his dick got harder, aching behind his zipper. Fucking hell, she was sweet. All responsive and giving. Like he feared she would be. Tasted better than ambrosia on his tongue and he wanted to devour every heavenly inch of her. There was no going back now.

Her perfect nipples were next. Man, he’d wanted to suck on those fucking hard berries from the very first time he saw them. Small breasts with areolas the size of a quarter tipped with nipples made for biting. Far too many nights he’d stroked his cock, fantasizing about her tits.

Badger released her hair and pulled his mouth away from her neck. She was breathing heavy, her gaze heady and filled with lust. He took both of her wrists and raised her arms above her head. “Keep them up.” When she didn’t respond to his order, he gripped her chin and bent his head so he was almost nose to nose with her. If she didn’t get it, she’d learn. He was all too willing to teach her. “When I give you a direction, you say, ‘yes, sir.’ When I ask you a yes or no question, your answer is ‘yes sir’ or ‘no sir.’ We clear?”

She sucked in a breath, her eyes wide. He grunted and shifted his hips forward, grinding his erection against her. “We clear, Rosie?”

She nodded and then whispered, “Umm… Yes.”

“Yes what?”

She blinked. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, nipping her bottom lip as he pulled away. Badger let go of her arms, and surprisingly, she left them where he’d told her. Taking hold of the bottom of her T-shirt, he pulled it off of her, and tossed it aside. “Fuck me, your tits…” Badger smoothed his palms over her breasts, reveling in the feel of those hard points on his palms. “Perfect fucking tits.”

He squeezed the petite mounds and she let out a moan that had him almost coming in his jeans. Shifting his hands so he had them both cupped in his palms, he bent his head and sucked one perfect, tight areola into his mouth. She let out another moan, this one more high-pitched, and her body jerked against him.

Something primal let loose inside of Badger, and he knew, in that moment, with her hot body tight to his and her sweet nipple on his tongue, that he was well and truly…fucked.

“Oh God…”

He pulled away from her nipple, biting the tip and tugging. Then he let the hard peak go, and dragged his tongue over it. With his other hand, he pinched its mate, rolling it between his finger and thumb. She whimpered, writhing against him, hot as hell and making his cock ache to get inside her. He yanked his mouth away. “You like that, don’t you.” Badger pinched both nipples and tugged on them. “A little bit of pain?”

She was panting, moaning, and rubbing her hips against his dick. “Yes.”

Her answer came out on a moan and his balls drew up tight, the head of his cock throbbing at the sound.

“Yes?” He tugged a little harder, stretching the points away from her body and she arched against him.

“
Oh, fuck!
Yes!
Oh God!
Yes, sir!”

“Mmm…such a good girl. Knew you’d be a good girl. Knew you’d like it rough, too.” He gazed down at the taut points, reddened from his handling, and lust spilled through him like gas on a fire. “I could play with your perfect tits all goddamn night, Rosie. But tell me, how wet is your pussy right now, hmm?” He kissed her before she could answer and dragged one palm down her soft skin to the boxer briefs he’d given her to wear.

Badger slipped his hand inside the waistband and found her bare lips. Sliding two fingers over her clit to the drenched mouth of her cunt, he growled and tore away from her kiss. “Fuck yeah, baby. You’ve soaked my boxers. Best get these off you.” She nodded and bit her bottom lip. Badger quirked one brow. “Like that lip. I’ll bite them for you. Drop your arms and slide the boxers off.” She did as he asked, damn near immediately.

Oh yeah, she needed this. Needed to be told, ordered, dominated. Someone else to take control. He’d give her that…and more.

“Press your palms against the wall at your sides and spread your legs wider.” He watched as she complied, and Badger took one small step back to look at the beauty before him. Then he went to his knees and gazed up at her. “You ready?”

She nodded and he tilted his head to the side. “What was that?”

“Mmm.” Her whimpered moan vibrated down his shaft to his balls. “Yes, sir.”

Badger stroked two fingers through her wet folds again. “First, I’m going to eat this fine pussy ’til you come on my tongue. And if you’re a good girl, I’m going to fuck your mouth.” She sucked in a breath and he licked his lips. “Then, I’ll fuck your cunt. You want that?”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“How do you want it, baby? You want it rough?”

“Never had it rough before.”

Badger moved his thumb to her clit and rubbed little circles over the tight nub. “I want to take you hard and rough. I want to fuck you ’til you scream my name so loud the neighbors hear you.” She rocked her hips. “Yeah, like that, baby. Like seeing you want my touch. You want me to fuck you hard and rough?”

“Oh God…” She panted. “Badger, I’m going to come.”

Badger pulled his thumb away. “Not yet. Not until you tell me how you want it. Your call, baby. You make it.” He leaned back and unbuttoned his jeans and slid the zipper down. Her gaze dropped and she watched as he reached down his boxers and adjusted his cock. He took a moment and stroked himself a couple of times. “Want this, baby?”

“Mm hmm. Please?”

“Rough and hard?”

She drew in a deep breath, her eyes locked on his crotch. “What if…what if I can’t take it so rough?”

“You want a safe word, you can have one. You won’t need it, because you’re gonna want everything I give you. But if it makes you feel better, pick one.”

She let out what he assumed was a nervous laugh. “Fuck, I don’t know.”

Badger pulled his hand free of his boxers and went back to toying with her clit. “All right, word is berry.”

“Berry?”

“Yeah. For those berry-size perfect nipples.”

“Okay.” She let out a giggle and, again, Badger felt it straight in his balls. “That works.”

“Yeah it does.” He slipped two fingers inside her cunt again. “Nice and tight. Sloppy wet. Fucking perfect.” Badger leaned forward and licked over her clit. A high-pitched sound came out of her as she sucked in a breath. He urged one of her legs over his shoulder, pulled his fingers free of her channel and slid his tongue through her warm, wet folds.

Her taste hit him like a pile driver to the gut. His cock jerked in his boxers and wetness from his pre-cum dripped down the head of his dick…and Badger’s mind went into a haze of animalistic desire. Her arousal coated his tongue and he swallowed her down before he covered her clit with his lips and sucked, lapping at her opening with his tongue every couple of seconds.

Jesus fuck, she tasted like the sweetest goddamn honey he’d ever had. He’d known she was different, but he had
no
idea exactly
how
different. All of it was coming together now. The months of angst whenever he had to deal with her in the club, or whenever he had to watch her incredible body on the stage. How whenever she spoke to him and his skin got tight. Fucking hell, damn near five months of making a deliberate effort to avoid her like the damn Black Plague…

With his mouth between her fine thighs, with her delectable scent infusing itself in his lungs, he was starting to wonder if this woman was just the kind of different he’d been missing.