Wildcard (15 page)

Where the hell is Santiago?
Jess thought. His partner was supposed to have kept close by, and the GPS in Jess’s phone should have led the man straight here.

“Is everything ready?” Newman asked Forrester as she tucked Jess’s gun into her back pocket.

The man gave a quick nod. “And tied with a friggin’ bow.”

“He’s that former deputy my sister mentioned,” Trace said, recognition dawning in her expression. “The one who was rustling Dee’s, Catie’s and Kev’s cattle to pay off his gambling debts.”

Jess nodded. “I’ve been after you for quite a while,” he said to Forrester. “I knew you’d gotten in deep with the Mexican drug cartel to pay off your bookies. The rustling scheme was just a way for you to keep the focus off what’s really going on…big time hauls. I bet the biggest of the big is about to go down and this time
we’re
the distraction.”

“And Dee’s the scapegoat,” Trace added.

“You’re both just fucking brilliant.” Newman waved her gun toward the cave entrance. “Start walking. Hands up where we can see them, yadda yadda yadda.”

“Too bad we won’t get to finish what we started in the barn,” Trace said with an odd note in her voice. Jess cut his gaze to her and she gave him a look that said,
listen to what I’m
not
saying.
“You know, what I was doing—what
we
were doing—before Harold interrupted us.”

“Shut the hell up,” Newman said. “We’re not interested in your fuck-a-pades.”

Jess wanted to tell Trace
no,
don’t try it, but she had that look in her eyes that said she’d made up her mind. Without smiling, Jess winked at Trace, so that only she could see, telling her he got her message. At this point, since backup hadn’t arrived, this might be their only chance.

He raised his arms, palms forward and started toward Forrester. “What I haven’t quite figured out,” Jess said as he passed Newman, “is why you’re working for Big Tits here.”

Forrester snickered and Newman scowled. “I
was
going to let Ry kill you, but I might just keep that pleasure all for myself. Maybe I’ll line you up and kill you both with the same bullet. I could, you know. I’m damn good with a gun.”

“Forensics,” Forrester muttered.

Newman glared at him. “Shut your hole.”

Heart pounding like a herd of wild horses galloping across the desert, Trace followed behind Jess, keeping enough distance between them that she’d reach Kathy about the same time he got close to the deputy.

Trace clasped her two hands together. “I love you, Jess,” she shouted at the same time she swung her fists up and under Kathy’s gun arm.

Kathy screamed and the weapon fired as Trace forced the woman’s hand up toward the cave’s ceiling. Rock shards rained down on them, landing on their heads and faces, getting in Trace’s eyes. Her eyes stung as she followed her first swing with another one, this time slicing her fists against Kathy’s wrists and knocking the gun from the woman’s hand.

Another shot fired. Trace didn’t know if it was from Kathy’s gun, and she didn’t stop to think about it—or the scuffling and cursing coming from the cave’s entrance.

“You fucking bitch!” With a shriek, Kathy raked her nails along Trace’s cheek, but Trace didn’t flinch.

Years of kickboxing training and Trace went on autopilot. She landed a punch to Kathy’s jaw, snapping the woman’s head back. In a flash of movement, Trace positioned herself for a side kick and slammed one Nike-clad foot down on Kathy’s thigh, just above her knee.

Kathy Newman screamed again and fell back against the cave wall. Her face was a sickening shade of purple her eyes glittering with fury. Her brown hair stuck up like horns, making her look like the demon she was. “You’re
so
gonna die now, slut,” Kathy spat as her hand shot to her back pocket where Jess’s gun was.

With a powerful right jab, Trace buried her fist in Kathy’s belly, her hand sinking deep into the soft flesh.

Air rushed from Kathy’s lungs in a loud
whoosh
, doubling the woman over until she dropped to her knees. Trace snatched Jess’s gun from Kathy’s back pocket. She backed up a few steps, and just like she’d learned at the firing range, she cocked the weapon and aimed it at the bitch’s head.

The way Kathy was rolling around the floor and screaming in obvious pain, though, it wasn’t likely she was going to be making any moves toward Trace.

Sparing a glance toward the front of the cave, Trace saw Jess casually standing with Forrester’s gun in his hand, the sites pointed at Kathy Newman, and Trace relaxed. Forrester was face-down on the cave floor, apparently out cold, his hands cuffed behind his back with Jess’s belt.

Trace’s gaze met Jess’s and he smiled. “I love you, too, sugar.”

Chapter Fifteen

The next few days passed by in a virtual blur for Trace. She’d hardly had a chance to see Jess with all that he’d had to do to wrap up his investigation, and they hadn’t had a second alone. Her body ached to feel him again, to be wrapped up tight in his arms and to feel his cock inside her core.

The moment she got him to herself, she was gonna jump him. After she beat him to death for not telling her he was a DEA agent.

With a sigh, she perched on the small stool at the vanity table in her bedroom and ran a brush through her strawberry blonde waves. But she didn’t even see her own reflection. Instead she couldn’t help but relive the incredible sex she’d had with Jess in the cave…and then the terrifying moments that had begun when she’d still been recovering from her orgasm.

Thank God they had made it out alive.

When Jess had reached behind him for his gun, he had managed to press a button on his cell phone. It had opened a line to some kind of special set-up that notified his partner, Santiago, and gave him Jess’s coordinates, along with letting him in on the conversation in the cave. Santiago had called for backup, but had gotten sidetracked when he’d run into a group of Kathy Newman’s men and the illegal immigrants they’d been using as mules to smuggle cocaine into the United States from Mexico.

After Jess had secured Kathy’s hands behind her back and bound her ankles with strips of material he’d torn from his denim shirt, and had done the same to Forrester, he had whipped out his cell phone and reached Santiago.

Thirty minutes later it was all over. The Sheriff’s department, the DEA, Customs, Border Patrol—heck, it had seemed like everyone had arrived. Trace had been vaguely embarrassed by the thoughts of the whole world snuffling around the cave where she’d just had wild sex—and gotten interrupted, of course, by that psychopathic bitch and her henchman.

What was it, anyway, with people catching her having sex? Payback for all those times she’d watched Dee and Jake?

Trace sighed at the thought, feeling a twinge between her legs. Here it was, Christmas Eve, and she had no idea when she would get to see Jess, or where he even was right now.

Or even what she was going to do about the future.

Yesterday she’d contacted Human Resources at Wildgames and arranged to take the next six weeks off. She had rarely taken any time off over the past four years, and upper management had no problem with her taking a little sabbatical.

If things did work out for her and her cowboy…she shook her head and smiled. A
cowboy
for cripes sake, and a lawman to boot. Anyway, if she and Jess were going to make a go at their relationship, she would see about telecommuting instead of returning to England. She could fly into London for the quarterly meetings and arrange what personnel meetings she needed to conduct during those trips. The owners of Wildgames were progressive and dynamic, and she hoped they would consider her request. If not, then she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

After all that had happened over the past couple of weeks, Trace felt as though she had come full circle. That she could finally leave behind the old insecurities and embrace the confident woman she’d become. She didn’t need to prove anything with her job or position.

She just needed to be herself…and being herself was all right.

Trace sighed again as she set the brush down, grabbed her makeup compact and popped open the lid. She patted a little more foundation along the four long scratches marring her cheek, souvenirs of her encounter with Kathy Newman.

A smile of satisfaction crept across Trace’s face. She’d kicked some serious butt in that cave, and it had sure felt good to let that bitch have it. No doubt, with all the evidence the various branches of law enforcement had gathered, Kathy was going to spend a very long time in prison.

After Trace finished putting on her makeup and had fastened earrings in all of her piercings, she slipped into an elegant strapless dress that she’d bought in Paris. It was a deep shade of emerald green, reached two inches above her knee, and hugged her slender figure. She felt sophisticated, sexy, and actually beautiful in it.

Too bad Jess wasn’t going to see her in the dress—unless he made it to the party at the Gadsden Hotel tonight. She hadn’t really felt like going without him, but she’d promised Dee.

Trace struggled for a moment with the zipper, but finally managed to get it up. The shoes she chose were a matching green, but a decent height. Not like those death-on-sticks heels Nicole had talked her into wearing at that Christmas party where Trace had met Jess.

Speaking of Christmas parties, Catie and Jarrod should be arriving soon,
Trace thought as she shifted uncomfortably. The stupid thong she was wearing was too tight, sliding up her crack and into her folds.
The hell with it.

Trace hiked her dress, peeled off the thong and tossed it aside before pulling the dress’s skirt down again. Just the feel of the outfit’s silky material brushing against her bare ass and pussy was enough to make her wet. And thinking about what Jess would do to her the next time they managed to get alone…

A knock sounded at the front door—probably Catie and Jarrod here to take her to Gadsden. Dee and Jake had left earlier, needing to take care of a few things before they attended the party.

Trace grabbed her handbag and headed out of her bedroom, down the hall to the living room. Her heels clicked against the tile, and she wondered why the house was so dark. She could swear she’d left the lights on in the kitchen. Only the colorful, twinkling bulbs on the Christmas tree illuminated the living room, giving it a soft holiday glow.

Trace fixed a smile on her face and yanked open the front door—

To see Jess standing there with his sexy grin and that adorable dimple. “Merry Christmas, sugar,” he said in his deep, vibrant tone.

“Jess.” Trace’s voice was only a hoarse whisper as she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her body to his.

Their mouths met, frantic, urgent, and demanding. He yanked up her skirt and groaned with obvious satisfaction when his palms rested on her naked ass. The next thing she knew, he’d picked her up and she’d wrapped her legs around his hips. Her head spun as he swung her around and backed her against the wall, never breaking contact with their kiss.

He felt so good, smelled so good, tasted so good.

Somehow he unbuckled his belt and she felt the coarse brush of denim against her mound as he unfastened his jeans. Their hands and their mouths didn’t stop moving. And when he freed his cock, he drove it immediately into her core.

Oh, God
. It felt so good with Jess fucking her pussy as his tongue plunged in and out of her mouth. Hard and fast he thrust into her, hurtling her so fast toward the peak that she could barely breathe.

Trace purred her pleasure and her climax blasted through her in a flurry of incredible sensation. Jess swallowed her cries as his hips jerked against hers and his hot fluid filled her core.

Lights blazed on, sudden and blinding.

At the exact same moment several voices shouted, “Surprise!”

And then the room went completely silent.

Trace tore her mouth from Jess’s and buried her face against his shirt. “Oh. My God.”

“Shit,” he muttered.

“Um…oops,” Dee’s voice came from behind them. “Ah, guys, let’s head back into the kitchen. We’ll break out the food while these two, uh, say hello.”

Giggles, laughter, snorts, and scattered conversation faded as the crowd moved out of the living room and into the kitchen.

“Sorry,” Dee said, and then the living room went dark again, leaving only the twinkling Christmas lights.

When the room was quiet, Trace tilted her head to look up at Jess. “Think we’ll ever be able to have sex without someone walking in on us?”

“Maybe.” Jess grinned and pressed his forehead to hers. “At least until we have kids.”

As far as Jess was concerned, they didn’t need to join any damn party—but that was purely for selfish reasons. He’d wanted to keep Trace all to himself. But despite her embarrassment, she’d told him that they might as well get it over with.

Somehow that sounded familiar.

While Trace had “freshened” up in her bathroom, Jess took her overnight bag out to his truck where he’d left a bag packed with a few of his own things. Once they escaped from this mandatory shindig, Jess was going to steal her away for some serious time alone.

Turned out that everything had been a set-up—other than them being caught fucking. Catie Savage had asked Jess to pick up Trace exactly at seven, to take her to the party at the Gadsden. “Something came up at the last minute,” Catie had said.

Hell, something had come up all right.

When Trace was as ready as she’d ever be, she and Jess joined the party that was now in full swing.

“Nice of you to make it,” Jake said with a grin as they reached the living room.

“I’m really sorry.” Dee shook her head, a blush creeping up her neck as she reached for her heart pendant. “We had planned the surprise party out so well…it just never occurred to me…”

“I can assure you that we were definitely surprised,” Jess said with a straight face and Jake snorted with laughter.

“What is this all about?” Trace asked, sweeping her arm to encompass the room and all the guests.

“I planned this ages ago.” Dee shrugged. “It’s a welcome home party. I really missed you, brat.”

Trace smiled up at her older sister. “Thanks. It means a lot to me…string bean.”

For the next couple of hours, Trace and Jess mingled at the party. The whole time he kept her close to his side, his arm around her waist in a protective embrace. She was grateful for his support as they talked with one person after another…all of whom had seen her with her dress hiked up to her waist and her legs around Jess’s hips.

“Nice ass,” Nicole said with a snicker after she and Trace hugged.

Trace gave her a mock frown. “I keep telling you to stop eyeing my ass.”

With a wink, Nicole replied, “Well then, keep it covered, sweetie.”

It seemed like most of their friends had made it. Of course Catie and Jarrod Savage, Steve Wilds and his girlfriend Natalie Garcia, Kev Grand, Diego Santiago, Ann O’Malley, Renee Duarte and Shannon Hanes…

And even Harold Rockmore St. John.

“Good show,” Harold said with a wink at Trace and kissed her flaming hot cheek.

Great.
Her ex-almost-fiancé had seen them too.

“Thanks.” She reached up and brushed her lips over his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Harold.”

Harold’s smile turned into a frown as he focused his deep brown gaze settled on Jess. “If you hurt Tracilynn in the slightest, I shall be forced to don my old sparring gloves, and…how do you Americans say it?” Harold pursed his lips and then continued, “Oh, yes. I shall beat the shit out of you.”

Trace snorted and then burst out laughing. Harold, saying
shit
? Maybe his wild side
could
be unearthed.

Jess raised an eyebrow and grinned. “You can rest easy, partner.”

“Harold was called “the Rock” back in his boxing days,” Trace told Jess. “During his career he won all but one of his matches.”

“Is that so?” Jess looked surprised, and suitably impressed.

“Yes, well.” Harold shrugged and studied his wine glass. “A long time ago.”

“Rock.” Ann O’Malley, a vivacious brunette, joined them, a full bottle of beer in her hand. “It suits you. Much better than Harold.”

Harold’s gaze lifted from his wine glass, fixed on Ann, and his nostrils flared. His expression was one that Trace had seen only a handful of times, when he was ruthlessly pursuing a future client for Wildgames.

Looked like maybe he’d just found himself a new American experiment.

Ann broke eye contact with Harold and turned to Trace and Jess. “Have a merry Christmas, you two.” She gave an impish look and added, “Just try to keep your clothes on in public, okay?”

Trace groaned and rolled her eyes. “We’ll never live this down.”

Jess grinned and pinched Trace’s ass, causing her to yelp in surprise. “Maybe we need to give them something else to talk about,” he murmured close to her ear.

“My apologies,” Harold said to Ann, his expression intent as he studied her and extended his hand. “I didn’t catch your name.”

She offered her hand in return, and when Harold clasped it, her blue eyes widened. The electric currents between them were so tangible that Trace could feel them.

“Ann O’Malley.” Her gaze moved from Harold’s face and slid down his lean but well muscled body. When her eyes met his again, she casually reached out and took the wine glass from his hand and replaced it with the bottle of beer she’d been holding. “Nice to meet you…Rock.”

And then she turned and walked away.

Harold raised one brow, his eyes focused on the gentle sway of Ann’s retreating backside. “Excuse me.” He spared a quick glance for Jess and Trace. “I do believe it’s time for me to move on.”

Trace smiled and nodded in the direction Ann had just gone. “Hurry up. I think it’s about time you found your wild side.”

“Indeed,” he muttered as he strode into the crowd.

“I think he’s got the right idea.” Jess scooped Trace up in his arms so fast her head spun.