Bride on the Run

by Catherine Mann

  Greedy to have him inside her, she fumbled and fidgeted and almost made a wreck of the task. In the end, he inhaled sharply, held her hand steady, and guided her stroke as she smoothed the thin material up and on.

  He was… generously made.

  She positioned him where she needed him while he skimmed a hand under her leg, parting her thighs to make more room for himself.

  “Valerie.” He bent his head to her left breast, drawing the pink tip into his mouth while he edged his way inside her.

  Slowly. Gently. Letting her get used to him.

  Her fingers twined through his hair, holding him in place, sensations already building to an unbearable tension. She didn’t want to be the only one having orgasms left and right, but self-control eluded her. She wanted this man with a lustful hunger she’d never experienced. And her body responded to his every touch, every taste, every breath on her skin.

  His powerful body was a sexy cage of muscle and heat all around her, holding her down and making her feel beautiful. Sexy. And very, very wet.

  She struggled to hold back. To withhold release until he’d been able to build his own need. But when he reached between them to stroke her, she flew apart again, the hard undulations of pleasure rocking her whole body.

  He lifted her thighs and cupped her ass, moving deep inside her with strokes that coaxed more and more shattering waves from her. She tossed her head from side to side, a wild thing underneath him as he found the rhythm that brought him to his own peak.

  Wrapping her arms and legs around him, she absorbed the spasms that rocked him. She inhaled his musky male scent, her cheek pressed to one muscular pectoral muscle while she listened to the thundering beat of his heart.

  The heavy, erratic thump assured her she wasn’t alone in this wildness. He felt it, too.

  By the time their breathing slowed, she knew he needed to get dressed and head to the private airstrip to meet the team’s flight to Arlington. And maybe that was best so they could both get their heads on straight again and figure out what had just happened.

  Sex, yes. But it was a powerful, passionate coming together. An unforgettable, take-your-breath-away mating she wouldn’t ever forget.

  And considering they were only together because he felt a debt to her for exposing her identity to the criminal underworld, Valerie figured they both needed time to retreat to their corners and figure out what to do next.

  Chapter Eight

  ‡

  “I hope you were serious about knowing how to drive a motorcycle.” Boone walked out of the Texas team’s stadium with Valerie at his side after a loss, more than ready to turn his attention to fun for a change.

  He’d been thinking about her nonstop to the point that he’d nearly made an error in the field during the Saturday afternoon game. But the night they’d shared had been incredible and it was making him crazy wanting her again.

  But he’d used his time this morning to make some plans for a date so that it wasn’t all about their physical connection. He wanted to spend time with her.

  Even more than that, he wanted her to relax and quit thinking about the incident in the stands at yesterday’s game. He hated that she’d been raised in a world where violence was a real and regular threat. And hated even more that she was reexposed to danger yesterday. The more he got to know her, the more he realized what a sweet soul lurked beneath her smarts and beauty.

  They walked out to the parking garage under the watchful eye of the extra security guard he’d hired for when they left the team domain. The guy was a new addition to Jumbo’s team who came highly recommended from the cop Wynn Rafferty. The dude was good at his job, too. Boone wouldn’t even know he was there if he didn’t stop to look for him now and again.

  “If you need proof of my capabilities, I’m pretty sure there’s a YouTube video a wedding guest took of me riding off on my dad’s Harley after the wedding that wasn’t.” She still wore another “Stars” t-shirt, a pink version of the same jersey he wore for road games.

  Paired with gray jeans and cowboy boots that must be her nod to their rodeo date, she looked good enough to eat.

  “Actually, I’m giving you an opportunity to prove it tonight.” He stopped near a parking spot where a brand new Yamaha SR400 waited, helmets on the seat of the retro-styled motorcycle.

  He watched her momentary puzzlement, her fair eyebrows knitting. And then, as she realized what he meant, her lips stretched into a big grin.

  “Get. Out.” She stalked toward the shiny black machine as if drawn by a magnet. “You got us a bike for tonight?”

  “I got you a bike for tonight,” he corrected. “I’m just in for the free ride.” He dropped a helmet on his head and handed her the other. “I sure hope it fits.”

  Clapping her hands together, she made a soft, squealing sound that he’d love to hear her make again. Preferably in his bed.

  “It’s beautiful!” She ran a hand over the leather seat and up the glossy fuel tank to the handlebars. “And so perfect for me.”

  “I hope it’s not too lightweight, but I figured it was better to get something that handled well—”

  “This is going to be easier than the Harley, I can tell you that.” She beamed at him and took the helmet. “Especially since I’m not in a wedding dress and heels.”

  “I kept thinking about what you said about your life being narrowed to within a mile or two of your apartment building over the past year. I wanted to help you make up for lost time.” And he wanted to see her smile.

  Strange to think how important that had become to him, especially when he was still plotting how to wreck her business just a week ago.

  “I thought just going to the rodeo was the treat. But this is awesome.” She strapped the helmet tighter. “The fit is perfect, by the way.”

  “I checked the size of that baseball cap you bought,” he admitted.

  “Clever man.” She rearranged her long ponytail and tucked it into the back of her shirt. “Now hop on and see just how fun it is to let a woman take the wheel. Figuratively speaking.” She gripped the handlebars and straddled the thing.

  Boone had to force his eyes up from the sight of her spread thighs. Maybe this was going to be tougher than he thought. With an effort, he told himself to think about how happy it was going to make her to ride the bike to the stockyards for the rodeo tonight.

  Concentrating on that, he straddled the bike behind her and hugged her hips with his thighs.

  “I could get used to this.” The words growled out from his throat before he could stop them.

  So much for concentrating on her happiness.

  He slid his hands around her slender waist and breathed in the scent of her. Hunger for her roared to life at the same time she flexed her leg and kick-started the engine.

  Checking mirrors and keeping her feet on the ground until she was satisfied with all the controls, Valerie revved the engine and backed up slowly.

  “Hold on tight, Boone,” her voice hit a throaty note he’d never heard before. Or was his brain so deep in his own fantasies that he just imagined it? “You’re going to like this.”

  No. He hadn’t imagined it.

  Valerie was feeling the same roar of attraction as him. His hands clamped her tighter and she gave the machine fuel, propelling them out of the first floor of the garage like a line drive off a power hitter’s bat.

  Adrenaline surged as the wind rushed past him, the city opening up to them as she wove through traffic with ease. The bike was as smooth as the sales person had promised him over the phone, and Valerie handled the thing with the same confidence she used for her call in show. Totally competent.

  Pieces of her ponytail escaped from the back of her shirt as they picked up speed on the highway. The pale strands whispered against his cheek, teasing him with her nearness. Not wanting to distract her, he didn’t allow himself to lean forward and kiss the bare patch on her neck where her ponytail left the skin uncovered. But he did slip one hand beneath her s
hirt so he could feel the curve of her waist just above her hip.

  She felt like silk, enticing as hell. When they finally exited the highway near the Fort Worth Stockyards, he used the opportunity of a red light to skim his hand higher beneath her shirt, palming the soft spot just beneath her left breast.

  “I don’t think distracting the driver is a good idea,” she called back to him.

  “I know you’re right.” Reluctantly, he lowered his hand, fingers playing over her skin in a slow rhythm. “But it’s not easy keeping my hands still.”

  He wanted her again with a fierceness that surprised him. He was used to relationships that were more functional than passionate, a product of being goal-oriented and disciplined about his career.

  And damn, now that he thought about it, hadn’t he come closer to making an error in today’s game than he had in four years? So he wasn’t the only one doing the distracting. If he wasn’t careful, his hunger for Valerie was going to distract him right out of the contract he wanted when he became a free agent at the end of the season.

  He’d worked too hard and sacrificed too much to take his eye off the prize now. With an effort, he loosened his hold on her, shifting his hands outside her clothes. He would keep things light. Relaxed. Maintain his self-control.

  Because even though Valerie tempted him more than any woman he’d ever known, he understood she wouldn’t be sticking around for long. Hell, she’d ditched her last groom and disappeared for a year, adopting a whole new name and identity. She was smart enough to do it again and he might never find her.

  They were temporary, even if the connection had been instant. His career had to be his priority—it was what was going to stick with him over the years. Not Valerie. He just had to remember to have fun for however long it lasted.

  *

  Valerie adjusted her new cowboy hat on her head as she sat in the stands at the Stockyards Championship Rodeo that took place every Saturday night.

  She and Boone had just enough time to weave through a few tourist shops on their way into the rodeo after parking the Yamaha in a primo spot close to the venue. She’d bought some vintage candies from big wooden barrels in a mock general store and had her fortune told by Pappy the mechanical cowboy fortune teller in a glass booth sandwiched between the shops. She’d resisted the spangled purses and studded belts, but she’d been helpless to say no to a western style hat with turquoise studs on the leather band.

  Now, she and Boone shared the last of a small bag of kettle corn while they cheered another rider who’d lasted the full eight seconds on the back of a furious, bucking horse.

  “Can you believe these guys?” Boone whistled while the crowd cheered the ride. “I get sent to the trainer if I break the skin sliding into a base and these dudes are wrenching shoulders out of sockets with regularity.”

  “I had no idea it was such a tough sport.” They’d seen a couple of riders strung upside down along the flank of a bucking horse, held in place by a strap around one boot. The rodeo clowns had to run interference to help the rider get free and Valerie’s heart had been in her throat the whole time. “Do you think they do it for the thrill?”

  She wondered why people chose to live dangerously, whether it was physical danger like the guys on the rodeo circuit, or criminal danger, like most of her relatives.

  No matter what she seemed to do, thoughts of her family’s nefarious activities always surfaced. She knew there was a connection between her and Boone, but deep down she knew that they could never be a normal couple. Her criminal connections would always overshadow and overpower any sense of normalcy.

  “Some of them, yes. And some probably just love the sport. But in any sport, some people end up in it because they have the talent and they see a way to make a living.” He leaned back in his seat, his eyes still on the ring where the next contender was being announced.

  “Is that why you wound up in baseball?” She wondered about his career more now that she’d seen him play and understood that he was an elite player in an extremely elite sport to start with. Talking to the other players’ wives and girlfriends had made her realize how special Boone’s place on the team was. “Because you had the talent and knew you could make a living from it?”

  They watched as the next rider broke from the gate, his bike helmet glinting under the lights. Valerie liked the helmets that seemed so much safer than cowboy hats considering how often the guys were thrown.

  “Baseball was a way out of a poor life. My mom worked multiple jobs, but it was barely enough to keep us going. When I was a kid, baseball was a place where there were moments of glory, you know? Everyone cheered and acted like you were all kinds of special if you could hit the ball with the bat.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “As I got older, the game provided structure. Discipline. And some sense of extra family since my mother worked all the time.”

  “My dad was the same.” She remembered the long hours of being home alone, studying. “His work ethic was fierce because he knew if he showed any sign that he couldn’t pay the bills, they’d magically be paid for him and he’d end up in debt to my grandfather.”

  When she was little, she had a hard time understanding why she couldn’t keep extravagant gifts from Grandpa, sobbing for days when the beautiful dolls and dollhouses would disappear hours after they arrived. For that matter, hadn’t she still been attracted to a shinier, prettier life when she’d agreed to marry Erik? She hadn’t seen the dark background behind it, getting sucked in by his beautiful home and new car, his thriving business that could support the family she wanted so badly.

  Had her father tried to warn her and she’d been too stubborn to hear? She didn’t know, but she wasn’t falling for the trappings of wealth and luxury again. It wasn’t worth it if you didn’t earn it yourself. No Cinderella story for her.

  “It seems like you inherited the work ethic.” Boone applauded with the rest of the crowd as the night’s champions were presented in the ring, the show coming to a close.

  “I’m not the only one.” She gave him a meaningful once-over. “I don’t know how you train year round and do all the travelling. It’s more than full-time job. It’s your whole life.”

  A light show sent red and blue spotlights circling around the arena in a dizzying display as country music blasted from the speakers.

  “Now I have the chance to pay my mother back for all the hours she gave up to provide for me.” Boone picked up her shopping bag with the candy and a few other trinkets from the Stockyards.

  “Not to be Ms. Nosy about your finances, but it’s no secret that baseball players make oodles of dough. You probably paid her back your first season.” She found feet stepping to the rhythm of the fiddle and steel guitar being piped in. She’d had a really fun time tonight.

  “Paying her back isn’t about a dollar for dollar exchange as far as I’m concerned.” Boone guided her out a side exit, away from the crowds. His touch on her hip as he steered her was a secret thrill. “I compensate her in time and devotion to the job. I’m just lucky that my work affords me a bigger bottom line than hers did.”

  “That sounds like a massive understatement.” She eyed the spinning lasso of a cowboy entertainer showing off his rope tricks on the way out. “I’ll bet she’d rather have you spend your time being happy.”

  “She taught me to live up to my potential.” He grinned when he said it, but she heard the perfect seriousness behind the words.

  He really believed his career should be built on the same tireless work ethic his mother had embraced while he was growing up. Interesting. She wasn’t going to argue the point, especially as she’d sensed him pulling away on her tonight.

  Just a little, but something had shifted between them on the ride to the rodeo, a distance that hadn’t been there before. She wasn’t going to push him. If he wanted to keep things light, she could do that. In fact, it was probably wise for them to remember that this relationship wasn’t going to last beyond the next few weeks. She couldn’
t afford to stick around Atlanta’s baseball hero for too long, refusing to endanger him or his career with her connections to the criminal world.

  Besides, it wasn’t easy to trust a man who came from a world of wealth and privilege. That had never worked well for her.

  “I’d like to see you live up to your potential tonight,” Valerie informed him with a whisper in his ear.

  She liked the way his body responded, his muscles flexing beneath the touch of her hand on his waist.

  “You’re going to have a lot of respect for my work ethic then,” he warned her with a rough growl against her ear.

  Her body warmed, a sensual shiver tripping down her spine and radiating heat to her erogenous zones.

  She gripped his hand and stepped up the pace as they walked through the crowds.

  “Just wait until you see how fast I can go from zero to sixty on my new ride.” She sent him a wink over one shoulder.

  He surprised her by pulling her into a clean, empty stall that was part of a walking tour to show off the kinds of facilities used at the Stockyard Exchange in the past. In that private nook, he backed her up against the wall, his hips pinning hers.

  “I don’t think I can wait,” he informed her, his words a sexy threat in her ear as he lowered a kiss to her neck.

  The damp heat of his tongue stroked up the side of her throat while his hands molded her hips to his. She about melted all over him, the slight abrasion of his jaw a rough touch that followed the silky slide of his tongue. She remembered reading about contrasts in the senses heightening pleasure when she’d studied intensively for her Sex Talk calls. She’d even doled out advice involving ice cubes and candle wax, cinnamon-flavored body oil and iced champagne.

  But she hadn’t really appreciated the natural contrasts of sensuality, the devastating sexual pleasure that could come from the simplest of touches.

  She lifted her hands to his chest and dug her nails lightly into the chiseled muscle beneath his soft black tee. No matter where things went between her and Boone, she owed Annamae a debt of gratitude for letting go of this incredible man so Valerie would have a chance to know how hot things could be between a man and woman. She could have studied for years without learning as much as Boone’s hands and lips taught her in a matter of days.