Woman on the Run (new version)

by Lisa Marie Rice

  Cooper drove on to her street and parked two blocks down, though by now all of Simpson, all of Dead Horse and most of Rupert were probably aware of the fact that they were lovers.

  He looked over at Sally. She was being unusually quiet for an unusually long time and now he saw why. She was leaning against the window, fast asleep.

  “Sally,” he said softly. When she didn’t move, he reached out with a forefinger to stroke her cheek. Every time he touched her, he was amazed at how soft her skin was. “Wake up, honey.”

  There was movement behind her lids, she was coming up out of it. For the first time, Cooper realized how exhausted she must be. He wasn’t letting her sleep at night and she worked all day.

  Maybe he should be a gentleman. Maybe he should escort her to her door and leave her with a kiss and a promise to see her in a week’s time.

  Sally’s eyelids fluttered and opened, the color so vivid even in the darkness, it was like a little piece of summer sky in the shadowy cab. She looked bewildered for a moment, then recognized him. “Cooper,” she breathed. And smiled.

  His chest clenched.

  Driving away was not an option.

  Cooper cupped her neck and kissed her. As always, her mouth opened immediately, soft and warm and welcoming. Her first reaction always electrified him, plunging him straight into a panicky lust, as if she’d dissipate like smoke if he didn’t nail her with his cock.

  This time his reaction was just as intense, but different. Her warm, sleepy skin, the faint rose scent that clung to her, the soft small hand caressing his cheek lulled him with a hazy drugged pleasure, like falling into a sea of warm rose petals.

  They turned towards each other, at the same time. Sally threw her arms around his neck. His hand opened her coat and slipped up under her sweater, nudging aside her bra.

  God, he loved her breasts. So soft and round. When his finger circled her nipple, she moaned into his mouth. He felt her nipple rise against his palm, firm and hard. Exactly the same thing was happening with his cock.

  Cooper was determined to make this time different. He pulled away from her. It always took Sally a moment to recover from his kisses. Her eyelids slowly fluttered open and her eyes met his in question.

  “I want to do this right.” The words came out stark and harsh. “I need to do this right.”

  Sally’s eyes searched his. It was as if she could walk around inside his head and read everything he was feeling. He was sure she understood what he was feeling better than he did himself. Her face softened.

  “Oh, Cooper.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. It wasn’t a kiss, it was a reassurance. “You are doing it right. You always do it right.”

  They needed to be in the house, in the bed, naked. Right. Now. Cooper couldn’t wait. It was as if there was a direct electric line between his heart and his cock and someone had just thrown the switch bringing them both to full roaring life.

  In a minute, he’d collected her purchases—shopping bags full of material in colors he’d never heard of but Harlan Schwab sure had—helped her down and rushed her down the street.

  Inside her door, Cooper let all the packages drop to the floor and picked Sally up.

  It wasn’t a romantic gesture, it was simply the quickest way to get her to the bedroom. He stopped next to the bed and let her slide down him. She had to feel his erection. It was pulsing so hard he was sure the entire town of Simpson could feel his hard-on. He was probably interrupting radio reception with it.

  Holding the back of her head while he kissed her, Cooper undressed her with his other hand, trying very, very hard not to rip anything. Coat, blouse, bra. Ahhh, there she was, in his hand once again. So soft.

  Cooper left her breast reluctantly and only because getting the bottom half of her naked was necessary. When she was naked, she stepped fully into his arms and he could swear he could feel her bare skin through his jacket, shirt and pants. He cupped her ass with his hands, lifting her up into his hard-on and tortured himself with the feel of her.

  He lifted his mouth from hers. “Undress me,” he gasped. Someone had to do it and his hands were full of her.

  “Okay.” She smiled up at him and unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it and his suit jacket off his shoulders so that they drifted to the floor, kissing his chest all the way down, through the undershirt. “Lift your arms.” She wasn’t tall enough to lift the undershirt away, so he held his arms out straight while she slipped it up over his head and off. She flung it over her shoulder and moved into his embrace, skin to skin. Her mouth opened under his, tongue tangling with his. He moved to take them to the bed when she said, “Wait.”

  Cooper stopped, trying not to quiver with impatience.

  Smiling up at him, Sally unbuttoned his dress pants and slowly unzipped him, fingers brushing against his hard-on. She pushed down his trousers and briefs, slowly. Kneeling, Sally slipped his shoes and his socks off and he lifted his feet obediently as she got him naked. Sally looked up and smiled when she saw his cock, rigidly erect just for her. She grasped it loosely, fingers light, touch delicate.

  It wasn’t enough pressure. The only pressure that could possibly be enough would be to part the tight tissues of her little cunt.

  “Bed,” he growled, lifting her up then pushing her gently on to her back on the bed. He eased his weight on to her, closing his eyes briefly at the sheer mind-blowing pleasure of having her under him once again. Knowing even more mind-blowing pleasure was coming.

  God, just the smell of her was enough to make him come. Cooper pressed his face against her neck and inhaled deeply, hoping he wasn’t behaving like Fred when he met a new human.

  The skin of Sally’s neck was incredibly smooth and soft, smelling faintly of roses and her. His sense of smell was keen. He was so attuned to her smell he could find her in the dark by scent alone. Her pulse was beating wildly against his lips and he licked her there, where her blood was beating just beneath the skin. Sally shuddered and arched against him. Her arms tightened around his back.

  She was so responsive, her warm, soft, fragrant little body writhing against his. Cooper bit her earlobe lightly and licked the rim. Her neck arched back, her hips rose.

  Cooper opened her thighs and touched her. She was, as always, soft and welcoming there. He slid a forefinger around her, being careful of the soft, tender flesh. He had thick, rough calluses on his fingers and he had just enough presence of mind to keep his touch light.

  He settled fully on her, running his hands down the backs of Sally’s thighs. He gently pushed her legs up and out, groaning at the feel of her opening for him.

  One day he was going to take a tour of her body with his lips and his hands. Not now, though. Now he needed to be in her like he needed to breathe.

  Cooper slid into her, feeling Sally open to him. Her entire body told him how much she desired him, arms holding him tightly, slender legs hugging his hips, cunt wet and welcoming. Every cell of his body felt welcome, encased in warm softness.

  He pressed into her, into the slippery heat of her, feeling as if he’d come home after a long, long time away in a cold foreign land.

  Cooper pressed his cock deep, holding himself still, savoring the tightness. He rotated his hips, settling himself more deeply inside her and wham! Sally came. Hard strong little tugs of her cunt, writhing underneath him, moaning and gasping. It blew his mind.

  Cooper felt a prickle rush down his spine, felt his balls contract, and he too came, his whole body shuddering as he poured himself into her in a sudden electric rush of excitement.

  Sally turned her head slightly and kissed his ear.

  His grip on her legs tightened and all thoughts of taking it slow and easy vanished from his mind like smoke as he started pounding into her. She was soft and slick with his come, the warmest softest thing in the world, made just for him.

  As always, he lost track of time, of himself, when he was in her. He stopped for a moment, panting and turned his head to wipe the sweat off hi
s face on the sheet. He could have used his hand but that would mean letting go of Sally.

  Cooper’s eyes lit on Sally’s alarm clock. The phosphorescent hands glowed in an impossible configuration. Two-fifteen, the hands read. How could that be? Stunned, Cooper checked his wristwatch. Two-fifteen.

  Oh, fuck.

  He had to leave from the Double C by 3 a.m. at the very latest, and he still had to pack and get his documents together. Actually, he always went into Boise the day before so he could easily make the 6 a.m. flight. He’d decided to leave early in the morning instead of last night, so he could gouge a little more time with Sally out of his tight schedule.

  Cooper had to leave now. He couldn’t miss that flight. If he did, there was no way he could make it to Lexington by evening, where he was going to be presented with the “Breeder of the Year” award. He simply had to be there.

  Cooper loosened his hard grip on Sally and pulled out of her. She was holding on to him tightly with her arms and legs. Even her cunt was holding on tightly to his cock, giving him up with difficulty as he slid out.

  If he’d known how to, Cooper would have wept at the feeling of coldness that assailed his wet cock. There was distance between his chest and her breasts now, for the first time in probably four hours. He’d become so used to feeling her breasts against him that it felt strange, unnatural for a moment, to feel the chill night air on his sweat-covered chest instead of Sally’s soft, fragrant skin. Sally’s hands still clung to his shoulders. Her grip tightened.

  “Cooper?”

  With regret, Cooper lifted his hand and gently loosened her grasp. Sally’s hands fell and he missed their warmth.

  Cooper bent and kissed her cheek, her mouth. “Gotta go, honey. Sorry. I have to make it to—”

  “Tomorrow’s Sunday,” she interrupted quickly, her voice lost and small. “Can’t you stay? At least tonight?”

  Stay.

  That magic word had started it all. For a split second, Cooper was violently tempted to do just that—stay. Fuck the annual meeting. Fuck the award. It was just a lousy plaque, after all. Twenty dollars’ worth of brass and wood. There was nothing in Lexington that could even remotely compete with remaining in Sally’s arms, with being inside her warmth and softness.

  Hell, why not just sell the Double C and move in with Sally? Fix her house up all day and fuck her all night. If he sold the spread, he could live very comfortably the rest of his life on the income. Actually, he already had a good income from his investments that he was plowing back into the spread. So Coop didn’t have to work. He could retire tomorrow. Why not?

  Because he had a responsibility, that was why not. Forty men and their families depended on the Double C. The Double C’s business was what kept Simpson alive and was vitally important to a lot of the businesses in Rupert and Dead Horse.

  He’d loved the navy, but when his dad died, he knew he had to go back. America was full of brave young men with good eyesight, a steady aim, a strong back and guts. There was only one Cooper who could take over the Cooper spread and keep it alive.

  Duty and desire warred powerfully in him for an instant. But Cooper was hardwired for duty.

  “Can’t stay, honey.” Could she hear the rough regret in his voice? Why the hell hadn’t he told her before he had to leave? Because his entire brain had been blasted by lust, that was why. “Gotta go. Out of town, actually. To Kentucky. Should be back Friday.”

  She sat up quickly, the sheets rustling. “You’re leaving town?” Her eyes were wide as she looked up at him. He could see the dismay even in the dark room, lit only by the dirty streetlamp on the street corner. “Do you—do you have to?”

  He shrugged on his jacket. Damn, but the time was tight. He had to leave now. “Yeah. I have to. Business, you know?”

  Sally nodded slowly, wide-eyed. He could hear her swallow. “Yes…um…business. Okay.”

  Shitshitshit! Cooper hated to leave her like this. He bent and gave her a swift kiss. He had to say the next part. “I won’t be able to call, honey. It’ll be a real…intense week.”

  She was looking more and more lost. “Intense,” she said weakly. “Okay.”

  Cooper stood. Christ, he hated this. He should be able to stay with her, make love to her some more, then finally stay the night, holding her tightly. He should be able to spend Sunday with her, in bed, maybe going for a walk in the afternoon.

  But this was the week that could make or break the Double C. He was bringing it back to life after years of neglect. Each year the bloodlines were better. Everything depended on the foals he chose on this yearly trip to Kentucky and on the contacts he made.

  Duty called.

  Cooper answered.

  Two thirty-five.

  “Gotta go now, honey.” He backed away reluctantly.

  “I’ll—I’ll miss you Cooper,” Sally said softly.

  There were no words for how he felt.

  “Yeah,” he said, and left.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The purloined file had had three names in it, all with a three digit code. Two of the witnesses had been relocated to Idaho. Chances were Julia Devaux had been, as well. The professional checked Google Maps .

  There were a little over 2000 people in the Witness Security Program. Logically, that meant about forty people per state. They would be as widely scattered as possible, so you wouldn’t have people on the run tripping over each other. But it made sense that the files would be kept geographically, so that there could be a case officer running cases in the same geographical area. Abt had been in Rockville, Davidson in Ellis. The professional consulted the survey map and ran a finger over the counties. Empty country. The professional said the old-fashioned names aloud, tracking them with a finger on the map—Jefferson, Clearwater, Butte. Somewhere in there was Julia Devaux and six million dollars.

  The professional logged on to Expedia and booked a one-way business class ticket to Boise, Idaho.

  Blood and brains, a shattered head. A small pale body crumpled on the greasy tarmac. The smell of cordite. The big man with the ferociously cruel face lifted the gun. His head turned slowly, mechanically, like a robot’s, towards her.

  Something stirred at the edge of her vision—a tall, black shape promising safety and shelter. Cooper! She tried to stand, to go to him, but there was blood all around her, thick and ropy. Her feet scrabbled uselessly for purchase.

  Cooper stared at her for several heartbeats, eyes black and unreadable, then he moved in slow motion, wide shoulders turning. He was leaving! She could see his broad back, the long legs taking him away from her in giant strides, moving so quickly she barely had time to scream at him. Cooper! Come back! Help me!

  She screamed until her lungs ached, but no sound came. Cooper kept on walking and in the time it took to stretch out her hand to him, he was gone. She stared at the cold empty space where he had been.

  A low cruel chuckle sounded from behind her and she whipped around, dread pooling in her stomach. Santana’s smile had stretched unnaturally, his entire mouth blood-red as he raised the large black gun. Red and black. The world had turned the colors of blood and death. He raised the gun and she braced. “Die, bitch,” he growled and pulled the trigger.

  Julia bolted up in bed, trembling and sweaty. The dream was different this time. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there had been a different feel to it, an urgency, as if something were closing in on her.

  Lightning crackled and thunder roared across the sky. It sounded as if it were an inch above the roof and Julia realized that it was the crack of thunder that had roused her and not a bullet to the brain. Something wet touched her hand and she screamed, one hand at her throat, the other frantically reaching for something she could use as a weapon. Something about the quality of the wetness had her snapping on the lamp on the bedside table.

  Fred sat on his haunches, big brown eyes warily watching her. He whined softly without opening his muzzle and Julia remembered that he had been mistreated. She had
been thrashing about on the bed in the throes of the nightmare and had frightened him.

  Well, she’d frightened herself. Julia patted the bed and Fred immediately jumped to her side, curling into a warm hairy ball, his weight causing the already sagging mattress to dip even further. At least he didn’t smell anymore.

  Julia leaned her head back wearily against the cheap imitation brass bedstead and tried to fight the waves of despair. But even despair was better than what was lurking behind it—fear.

  Someone—probably several someones—was gunning for her and every day she spent here was a day he—or they—could crawl closer to her hiding place.

  Davis wasn’t any great help in reassuring her, either. He had sounded impatient the last few times she had called. The calls depressed her so much, she’d started calling less frequently. They always had the same conversation, anyway.

  Any news?

  No.

  Do you know what’s going to happen?

  No.

  How long will this go on?

  I don’t know.

  There were very few variations and Davis tended to turn testy when she tried to prolong the conversation. Julia didn’t even like Davis that much, but he was all that was standing between herself and the abyss. Or Santana, which was the same thing.

  Fred laid his muzzle on her knee and she patted his head with a trembling hand. She found that spot behind his ear that made his eyes slit with contentment, and wondered how it was that easy for dogs. No amount of scratching behind her ears would make the fear and loneliness flooding her soul go away.

  Julia pulled up the blanket tenting her knees. Like most other things in the house, it was cheap and threadbare, the colors faded from many washings. A far cry from the down-filled pure raw silk comforter in gemstone colors her mother had sent her from Paris for her twenty-fourth birthday.