Naughty Stranger

by Stacey Kennedy

  “Fuck.” Boone shook his head. Had he not come back in time after getting coffee, tonight could have ended far differently. He didn’t even want to think about it. They’d taken every precaution to keep Peyton and Kinsley safe. The guy had just been smart. But not smart enough. “We need to find out who this guy is and what the hell he wanted with Peyton.”

  Rhett frowned. “You think this doesn’t stop here?”

  “That’s the thing.” Boone shrugged. “I don’t know.” And that’s the part that Boone didn’t like. He didn’t feel settled, and the fact that he was looking at the lifeless body of the man who tried to kill her and was still feeling uneasy told him something more was going on. “There needs to be a connection from him to Peyton, however small it may be, and we need to find out what this is before we can put this case to bed.”

  “It could be as simple as a guy infatuated with her,” Rhett offered.

  “Could be,” Boone agreed. “But I doubt it. The man came here, into a public place, to ensure he killed her. This isn’t some random guy finishing his sick killing spree. This was personal. He said to me, ‘She had to go, and you got in the way.’ What does that tell you?”

  “That more is going on here,” Rhett agreed.

  Asher watched Boone carefully, then gave a firm nod. “All right, Rhett and I will check him out and see what we find.” He showed him a keycard from a hotel in Whitby Falls. “We’ll see what’s there and if it leads anywhere.”

  Sirens began cutting through the quiet forest, lights coming from the right, all red and blue. Boone looked back at the man who’d uprooted Peyton’s life and drew in a long, deep breath, inhaling the natural pine scents around him. Maybe he knew what she’d been through in Seattle. Maybe he didn’t. But in the end, Peyton was safer with him gone now. “Call if you find out anything.”

  Rhett nodded, then turned to the rookie, Jamie, as she ran toward them. “You’ll need to drive Knight back to the station and begin an internal investigation.”

  Her gaze slid to Boone as he flicked the safety on his gun and handed it to her. She accepted his weapon with wide eyes. “Sir?”

  “It’s protocol, Sanchez,” Boone told her firmly. “My weapon will be part of the investigation.”

  She nodded and then her gaze fell to the lifeless body on the ground before she strode in front of Boone, heading back toward the hospital. Boone followed, remembering being that young rookie. That felt like a lifetime ago. Damn, he was only thirty-three years old and he felt like he’d already lived a few lives.

  He was tired. Damn tired of how he’d been living. That man lying dead on the forest floor had tried hard to erase a very important someone in his life, but he hadn’t. Another chance. That’s what he’d been given.

  And this time, this fucking time, Boone wasn’t going to waste it. No more mistakes. No more fuck-ups.

  When he approached the edge of the forest, he found a sea of lights flashing blue and red. He caught sight of Peyton standing with his father and Kinsley, her eyes trained on the trees around him. When he stepped clear of the forest, she charged forward and threw herself into his arms. He caught her, holding tight.

  “Thank God,” she gasped, her arms squeezing his neck. She finally stepped back and glanced him over, stopping at his face. “You’re bleeding.” She reached up to inspect his wound.

  “I’m fine.” His hands braced her face. “Are you okay?”

  “Me?” she exclaimed. “I’m not thinking about me. I’m only thinking about you. He hurt you.”

  “It’s done,” was his reply.

  Her breath caught, eyes widened. “He’s dead?”

  Boone gave a slow nod, watching her carefully.

  Her voice squeaked out, then the floodgates opened, and her emotion overflowed, turning into tears. “You were in so much danger.” She grabbed on to his shirt, almost as if she were afraid he’d vanish. “You killed a man. For me.”

  Boone pulled her into the warmth of his arms, sensing them both trembling. “No, not for you,” he countered gently, not wanting her to feel any sort of guilt. “I killed a man who intended to cause harm. That’s what happened. That’s my job.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, blinking and sending tears spilling over. “I’m sorry that you had to do that. I’m just sorry for all of this.”

  “Peyton.” He brought his mouth close to hers, feeling eyes on them, hearing the sirens, and blinded by the lights. “I will never be sorry for protecting you. Never. Do you understand me?”

  She nodded, tears flooding her face.

  Needing her, he dropped his mouth to hers, and fell into the good place, the warm place, and the happy place that she brought him.

  Chapter 17

  With Boone off to the station, minutes had felt like hours, but when Peyton and Kinsley were finally discharged, Boone had asked Hank to bring them to his place, and minutes had turned into actual hours. Hank had made them tea, fed them sandwiches, and Kinsley eventually fell asleep on the couch. Peyton stared out the window at the streetlight while Hank watched the reruns of a baseball game on Boone’s widescreen television.

  “He’s all right, you know.”

  Peyton glanced next to her and found Hank’s gentle eyes on her. “I know,” she said, even though she was lying. Boone had killed a man. She felt his slight tremble when she hugged him. And maybe that made her heart reach for him. He was good, protected those around him, even at a cost for a small piece of his soul.

  She wanted to protect him right back.

  Hank watched her closely and then sighed, glancing back at the television. “Probably not the life you were looking for when you left Seattle, huh?”

  The obvious answer was hell no, but she realized she couldn’t say that. “Parts of it are certainly not what I wanted or expected, but other parts…”

  “Aren’t so bad?” Hank offered.

  She smiled, which she assumed didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, not so bad.”

  “Isn’t that life, really?” Hank said, obviously speaking from experience. “Gotta take the good when you can and fight through the shit when it’s bad.”

  Hank hadn’t asked a question, and she didn’t have a reply anyway. Life was such a funny thing. When Adam passed away, she thought that was the worst thing that would happen to her. Nothing could top that. And she couldn’t handle anything if it had—her strength would be stretched too thin. And yet, and yet, she kept surviving.

  Not only surviving, in fact, but she was thriving within this hell. Sure, there was the bad. So much fucking bad. But the good…dear God, the good was so damn sweet. And she supposed Hank was right—there would always be bad times she might think she couldn’t possibly survive; but she could always find the good, as long as she looked hard enough.

  The roar of a motorcycle broke into her thoughts. Her heart tripped, fingers twined together, and she hurried to the door before Boone could even open it. He lifted his head as she took a step outside, any hint of emotion he’d felt earlier gone now, only strength residing in his smoky eyes. She threw herself at him, forgetting any pain she felt, and he caught her, one arm around her waist, the other around her butt while she gripped his waist with her legs.

  She kissed him. Hard. Not caring that maybe Hank watched them. She kissed him like she meant it, putting every bit of worry for his safety and every bit of love that he was safe into the glide of her mouth against his.

  When she finally broke the kiss, he chuckled. “Can you always greet me like that?”

  “Yes! Always!” She laughed softly, her eyes teary. “I’ve been so worried. Is everything okay?”

  He nodded, and she slid down his body as he said, “I’m sorry that took so long. Paperwork is a bitch.”

  “God, don’t apologize,” she said, taking his hand as he led her inside the house. “I’m just glad you’re back now.”

  He smiled down at her, then glanced at his father as he stepped inside his house.

  Hank flicked off the television, then
rose and took Boone into a rough hug, patting him on the back. “All go well?”

  Boone nodded. “The case has been sent to Internal Investigations, but with my report, they said they’d likely not be in touch again.”

  “Not surprising. We’ve got enough victims to make this case simple,” Hank said, then he gave him a soft smile. “I heard from the hospital a bit ago that all our officers pulled through after surgery and are recovering.”

  “Damn good news,” Boone said with a long sigh, slinging his arm around Peyton.

  Hank nodded, then moved to Kinsley on the couch and nudged her legs. “Come on, kiddo, let’s go home.” She didn’t move an inch, so he took the blanket off her shoulders and rested it on the couch.

  Kinsley barely opened her eyes, but rose enough to give Peyton a wave, kiss Boone on the cheek, and then walk out the front door. Hank gave them both a smile and shut the door behind him.

  Boone drew in a long, deep breath and faced Peyton again. She watched him a moment and saw that beneath his tough exterior he looked tired. Maybe even emotional too. And all she wanted to do was make him feel better. This man who, regardless that he thought it was his job, took a life today all to protect her.

  Before she could say as much, he brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “Rhett and Asher are searching the bastard’s hotel room now.”

  She felt the slight tremble in her arms, the emotion rising to her throat. “For why he came after me?”

  He nodded. “There are still some holes that don’t make sense. I can’t put this to bed without having a reason why he targeted you.” Her heart skipped a beat, the room spinning a little at the idea that this might not be over yet, when he gathered her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. “We’ll find out anything there is to find out.”

  She kept staring at him. “Are you okay, though?”

  He leveled her with his intense eyes. “Tonight, it was me or him walking away from that forest. That man sealed his own fate. He made a choice to attack you and then me. He made a choice to not to drop his weapon. He gave me no other choice than to pull the trigger.” Boone tightened his arms around her, bringing her in closer, resting his chin on her head. “He tried to kill you, Peyton. There’s no forgiveness in that, but I didn’t take the shot because I wanted to kill him for coming after you, I took that shot because I wanted to live to come back to you.”

  Tears welled and spilled out beneath her closed eyes. “I wanted you to come back to me too.” She placed her cheek against his chest, embracing his warmth, now understanding that he compartmentalized like she did as a nurse. This wasn’t personal. Boone wouldn’t have taken that man’s life out of revenge or because he tried to hurt her. He fired that trigger only because it was his job to do so. Which, admittedly, made her guilt about how he must feel taking a life lessen some.

  Boone pressed his lips against her forehead. “You were all I thought about tonight,” he murmured.

  She leaned away and glanced at him. “You’re all I’m thinking about now.” He dipped his chin, his emotion-packed gaze on her. “You have stitches.” She reached up, touching near the spot.

  “I’m fine.” He leaned in, bringing his mouth closer to her. “It’s you that I’m worried about.”

  She knew what he saw. Her bruises. Hell, even she felt the rawness of her body, including the angry marks that had been left by her attacker on her neck. “Well, I’m worried about you, so that makes us even.”

  Boone’s haunted eyes filled her vision as he gently stroked the bruise along her neck. She rose up on her tiptoes, driven by something so intense she couldn’t understand it. A pull that she no longer planned to fight. Because Boone had been there, patient, calmly letting her trust him, and she knew one thing for certain now. He deserved to be loved, and loved hard. And she planned on making sure he knew that. She pressed her lips to his and said against them, “Kiss me, Boone, and don’t stop until we both feel better.”

  Emotion flashed hot in his eyes for only a moment before he returned the kiss, dosing her with his usual heat. And soon the kiss turned desperate, needy in ways that she allowed to overwhelm her.

  When he finally broke away, he gathered her in his arms, carrying her to the bedroom. There, he watched her closely, carefully, while he gently took off her clothing until he had her bare. Then, in the same way, he removed his clothing, never taking his eyes off her, and she felt bared to him fully and completely, wanting him to see all of her.

  She let her gaze follow every curve and dip of his gorgeous muscular body, moving lower until she found him hard and ready, and she felt the desperation slide through her too. This was more than heat; this was the effects of fear, and the realization of truths that maybe would never have been realized without the events that unfolded tonight.

  Some things you wanted. Some things you needed. Boone definitely fell into the latter category. And now that Peyton fully opened that door, there was no going back anymore.

  “Come here,” he murmured, sliding his hands onto her hips and moving her in front of him. She shivered as he slid her hair over her shoulder. He studied her intently, stopping at every bruise, every mark, like he intended to see each one and remember them.

  Once he’d done a full sweep, he pressed his mouth against the bruise on her cheek. “I don’t like these marks.” Goose bumps prickled her skin as he continued down her body, his lips brushing against every mark, until he had kissed every single one of the bruises. “Your body should never have these marks.” Again, he kissed them all, until the heat he brought replaced the slight ache they held. “You understand what I’m saying, Peyton?”

  She slowly opened her eyes and found his heated gaze staring back at her. “You’re going to make sure no one ever hurts me again.”

  “That’s right,” he said fiercely. “Never again.”

  Her heart opened and rejoiced at the boundary they crossed when she cupped his face. He sealed his mouth across hers, kissing her deeply, perfectly, in all the ways she needed. Each swipe of his tongue brought her deeper into his hold. Every move he made connected them soul deep. And when she pressed herself against him, needing more, he groaned against her mouth.

  Only then did he break away and lay her out on the mattress. Instead of sliding on top of her, he settled his shoulders between her thighs. Then came his tongue, and she gripped the bedsheets beneath her, lifting her pelvis into the pleasure. He reached for her hips then, pinning her to the mattress, and everything faded away with each slow lick and twirl of his tongue. Coiled, and overwhelmed, she broke apart against his mouth, until he began kissing his way back up her body to reach her lips.

  He smelled of her, him, and something even better, them, as his tongue swirled with hers, slowly bringing heat back into all the places he’d satisfied. When he had her moaning again, he grabbed a condom from his bedside dresser and sheathed himself. He gently widened her thighs with his legs as he closed his chest to hers. “I’ve never been as terrified as I was tonight,” he said against her mouth.

  She cupped his face. “Me too.”

  “I thought I was going to lose you.” He brushed his lips over hers, the tip of his cock teasing her clit.

  She moaned, arching up into him. “But we didn’t lose each other.”

  “You’re right.” He slid his hips back, finding her entrance with the tip of him. “And we won’t. Not ever.” His fingers tightened around her shoulder, and she was breathless when he sank in deep.

  Heady emotion rushed into his expression when he settled all the way to the hilt, and she felt the intensity too as he filled and stretched her. His mouth met hers again in a soft kiss. Sweet, even. A kiss like no other, and so different than any other before it. And within that kiss she heard promises that would have scared her before.

  Nothing about Boone scared her now.

  He rocked into her, letting her feel every hard inch of him. His purely masculine scent infused the air, and she slid her hands over his muscular back, settling onto his
bottom, holding him tighter, needing him deeper.

  His mouth was right by her ear, his moans brushing against her. She lifted her legs higher on his hips, wanting him as close as he could be. He began moving harder, faster, no space between them now. She held on tight, squeezing his flexing buttocks, lifting her hips, meeting him thrust for thrust, needing him to get them both there. Together.

  She sensed the tremble in his body, felt the hardening of his cock deep inside her, and her pleasure rose with his. She lost herself in all of him. In his trust. In his strength. In his hold. Her eyes pinched shut and toes pointed as she climbed higher and higher. Boone began bucking and jerking, his rough grunts all she heard, his hardened length pumping into her, his hips pressing against her clit, driving her wild.

  Until he thrust forward hard, emptying himself inside her, sending her crashing into wave after wave of pleasure alongside him, writhing beneath him, until there was nothing left. No fear. No sadness. Hell, maybe even no bones in her body.

  When she could move her fingers again, she opened her eyes, finding a breathless Boone intently watching her. His expression showed so much, it was impossible to identify all that he felt. She cupped his troubled face. “What is it?” she asked.

  His brow furrowed, eyes intensifying. “Peyton, I—”

  His cell phone rang.

  “Fuck,” he grumbled, sliding out of her to grab his cell from his jeans. He hit the speaker. “Knight,” he bit off.

  Rhett’s voice filled the room, “You’re going to need to come into the station. Is Peyton with you?”

  Boone’s tight eyes came to Peyton. “Yeah, why?”

  A beat. Then, “Bring her with you. She needs to see this too.”

  Chapter 18

  Two days later, Peyton held the file folder tight against her chest as she followed Boone through the police station in Seattle. They’d flown in last night, and she slept maybe two hours, tossing and turning in Boone’s arms awaiting the meeting this morning. This station looked a million dollars richer than the station back in Stoney Creek, but lacked the charm found within that close-knit station.