“Not taking a date on a hike in a safe place?” he asked, squinting.
That intense look made her stomach tighten. “Yeah.”
“I haven’t been out here in years,” he said, looking away. “My folks used to bring me and my brother to the park. We’d pack a tent and set up at one of the campsites. We’d hike the trails or head down to the lake to fish...”
She didn’t want to ask, but she’d noted the way his voice changed, getting a little rougher, when he mentioned his parents. “Are your parents gone?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah,” he said, still facing away. “When I was twenty. Left me a little money. Left me my brother to take care of.”
“A lot of responsibility for a young man,” she murmured.
“Well, I failed.” He shrugged. “I joined the Marines. An aunt took in my brother, and I sent him money and things. I didn’t visit often enough. He got in with a rough crowd.” His throat worked around a big swallow. “Wound up doing time.”
Her hand moved several inches toward his face before she pulled it back. “I’m sorry.”
“Not as sorry as I am. I don’t know how to bring him back.”
She took a bite of her apple and sat back as she chewed, letting the silence fill in the space. “That garage another rough crowd?”
His mouth thinned as he met her glance. “Just rumors. But I don’t think the only service they provide is car and bike repairs.”
Sensing from the way his fingers drummed his knees that he was getting restless with the subject, she said, “My parents never wanted me to join the Army. They wanted me to go to college and follow my sister’s footsteps. Bev’s a lawyer.” Carly screwed up her face like that was the worst fate that could befall her.
Reaper chuckled. “Yeah, I can’t see you as a lawyer, but I’m surprised you didn’t want to go to college. You’re plenty smart.”
“The thought of four or more years of school nearly killed me. I joined the Army—and didn’t tell my family until I had to ship out.”
His eyebrows rose. “Seriously?”
She shrugged, feeling a little guilty. “Yeah. Saved my eardrums.”
He gave her an assessing glance. “So…Army. No college. You seem to do all right. They’re not happy about that?”
Shaking her head, she wrinkled her nose. “I’m not rich like my sister.”
“Starving artist?”
“I do better than that, but nothing that will impress Dr. Dad.”
“Ah,” he said, nodding.
“Uh-huh, and what’s worse, in their eyes, is that I’m not writing some bestseller. I’m just happy to do what I do. Find a story to tell...” She looked away, because her reason sounded a little foolish.
“I don’t think you’re foolish, Carly.” His hand reached for hers, and he stood then pulled her upright. His gaze went to the sky. “We better head back, or we’ll be using flashlights. Wouldn’t want to meet a bear in the dark.”
They headed down the trail. “I liked today.” She flashed him a smile.
“Me, too. Being here’s kind of restful up here.”
She gave him a flirty, sideways glance from under her eyelashes. “How long to get back to your place?”
He tugged her hand. “Not long if you don’t mind jogging a bit.”
She laughed as he took off at a run, his hand moving to her wrist to make sure she kept up.
Later, he built a fire in the fireplace in his living room.
The orange-yellow flames danced along the top log. “Isn’t it a little too hot for that?”
“Not if we’re naked,” he drawled.
Inside a minute, they stretched with their feet pointing toward the fire as they lay on the nubby, eggplant-colored rug. “You really ought to invest in a couple of fur throws,” she said, wriggling her back on the carpet. “Something with cushion.”
“Your ass still sore?”
“What do you think?” Just the mention of that tender body part made it sting.
“Turn over, and I’ll give it a rub.”
She smiled at the ceiling. “Then my nipples’ll get itchy.”
“That a bad thing?”
“Guess not,” she said breathlessly, as he rolled her then knelt over her thighs, his large, rough palms rubbing her cheeks. The friction warmed her skin.
“I left some marks.”
“You don’t sound sorry.”
“I’m not.” His fingers spread. “I can tell where I’ve been.”
“I have another spot that aches,” she said, then bit her lip because his hands massaged her ass, and the sensation felt blissful, despite the twinges.
He nudged apart her legs and settled between them. A finger traced her slit. “This the spot?”
“No,” she whispered, her pulse racing.
“Lift up, so I can see better,” he said in a growly voice.
She groaned but got her knees beneath her to raise her bottom. “You sure do know what to say to a girl to make her feel comfortable.”
“Am I supposed to be making you comfortable?”
When his fingers tugged her labia, she giggled and hid her face in her cupped hands.
“This the spot?” he asked, his voice deepening as he trailed a fingertip through her dampening folds and touched her clit.
“That’s one of them,” she blurted.
Fingers dipped inside her and swirled. “Am I closer?”
“Yes!”
“Thought so.” Then his warm breath gusted against her, and his tongue tickled her clit while his fingers thrust deeper and twisted.
She settled her elbows on the carpet and sagged her middle to let the nubby texture abrade her nipples, while he stroked and teased until she was breathing hard and frustrated.
His fingers withdrew, and he planted a kiss against her sex. “We can’t fuck here.”
“Why not?” Her words came out a bit sharp, because she didn’t want him stopping now.
“Rug burn. I don’t want to add any new marks.”
She pushed up, knelt, then glanced around the room. “The couch, then?”
“Don’t want to head to bed?”
“Too far.”
He chuckled and rose, reaching down to help her to her feet. She didn’t wait for him to guide her into place. Instead, she walked to the sofa and bent over an arm.
“Not where I thought this was going, but hell yeah.” His hands gripped her ass and parted her. His cock nudged her folds.
Carly quickly realized she wasn’t quite tall enough to manage this position. She went to her tiptoes, straining higher as he pushed inside, then groaned when the angle still wasn’t right.
“Stop,” he said. “I’ll go lower.”
From the side of her eye, she watched as he shuffled his stance several inches wider. Then he reached past her to plant a hand in the cushion beside her head and pumped. His body jerked against hers.
“You’re laughing at me.”
He continued stroking inside. “You seriously couldn’t wait until we got upstairs?”
“You built a fucking fire. Why waste it?” she gritted out, wishing she could widen her own stance and fit a hand beneath her body to rub her clit.
“And you couldn’t just lie lengthwise on the sofa?”
Her body moved with the thrust, but her arousal didn’t spike. “I was worried you’d roll off. You’re a big guy.”
“How big, baby?” he rasped sexily.
“You know damn well you’re hung like a donkey.”
His laughter filled the room.
Carly couldn’t help grinning. His somber mood on the mountain was gone—she’d done that. So, he was laughing at her expense, but she didn’t mind so much. She just wished she could get off this way...
“Not getting it?” he drawled.
“I feel like I’m upside down. The blood’s rushing to my head.”
He pulled free, walked around her then patted the sofa cushion. “Sit here.”
“Not a dog,” sh
e grumbled, but she pushed back her hair and straightened. She stepped beside him, taking in his scent. Because he didn’t move back, she had to crawl onto the cushion and shifted to lie sideways on the couch.
“Uh-huh. Face me.”
She turned and sat, lifting a leg to clear his big frame. His cock was at eye level. Moisture filled her mouth as she stared. Hard not to. She’d never seen anything quite so...majestic.
“Not what I was after—I swear,” he said, his voice grinding, “but you won’t hear any complaints...”
When she glanced up, she found him watching her, the icy blue of his eyes nearly consumed by black pupils. The skin cloaking his cheekbones stretched taut. Whoever said the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach was an idiot. At that moment, she didn’t regret never learning to cook anything other than grilled cheese sandwiches.
Her gaze dropped again to the long, thick cock pulsing every now and then in front of her face. Blinking, she realized that pleasuring Reaper presented a daunting task.
“I don’t expect you to deep-throat me or anything,” he said quietly. “Don’t know if I could explain to the authorities how you choked to death.”
Not believing he’d just cracked a joke, her jaw sagged just a little. Then she couldn’t help it, she giggled like a teenager, her nose wrinkling, her eyes squinting. Not a pretty sight, she was sure. His lopsided grin made her feel better.
“Whatever you want to do. It’ll be great.”
If she could get her lips to purse, she might give it a go, but she couldn’t stop laughing.
His head fell back, and his hands fisted on his hips.
“Sorry.” She giggled again, this time falling sideways on the cushion.
His laughter joined hers—and he grinned so wide she noticed for the first time what perfectly straight white teeth he had. “You have a nice smile.”
“Apparently, I also have a formidable dick.”
“Yeah, about that.” She pushed herself upright and drew a deep breath. Time to prove herself equal to the challenge.
In her experience, which wasn’t vast, guys were grateful for any attention paid their manly parts. Although some did get a little impatient when she didn’t do it right and had to demonstrate how they liked to be touched. “Tell me if I do this wrong...” Maybe she’d made him wait too long.
He reached down, cupped her hands inside his, and brought them to his shaft. “Wrap them tight, baby. I won’t break.”
As she tightened her fingers around him, his hands fell away. But she didn’t move hers, because she didn’t want to irritate the satiny skin that surrounded the hot steel shaft. He needed moisture. And would probably like it from her mouth. Right, she’d start there.
Leaning toward him, she stuck out her tongue and stroked him from the base of his cock up the long side, her tongue drying out before she got to the tip. Baby steps? She bent lower and palmed his balls. She liked their weighty feel and the velvety texture of his sac. “You shave.”
“I’m polite.”
She shot him a frown. “Afraid your girlfriends will have to floss?”
His head canted, and his eyes widened, glaring.
Leaning closer to his balls, she licked the soft velvet surrounding the stones. Not only did she like the texture, she liked the taste and his scent. Musky, but clean. Manly. Her own sex clenched as she sucked a ball into her mouth and licked it all over, moving her lips to tug gently around the sphere.
“Jesus, fuck.” His feet shuffled farther apart.
Which forced her lower, but his response gave her encouragement. She sucked the other inside and stroked them both with her tongue. When she drew back, she gripped his cock with renewed determination and dragged it down to point at her mouth.
His hands left his hips and tangled in her hair, but he didn’t tug her close. He simply waited as she opened her mouth wide and sucked the tip inside. Her tongue swabbed around and around the head, dipped into the eyelet slit, and then around and around again. When his fingers dug into her scalp, she judged she’d done something right.
Emboldened, she bobbed forward, taking him deeper, loving the way his girth stretched her mouth, how his soft blunt head caressed her tongue as it traveled back.
When the tip touched the back of her throat, she glanced down his shaft, her eyes crossing.
His chuckle sounded ragged. “Far as you can go, right?”
She swallowed, which had him digging his nails harder into his scalp.
“Damn,” he whispered.
So she did it again, and then pulled back, slicked her hands with spit, then gripped him at the base with both hands and took him in her mouth again, this time bobbing forward to meet her fingers, covering every inch of his cock in slick heat. The air around them warmed, and she couldn’t tell if the source was the crackling fire or their sexy connection.
Carly wasn’t sure how long she moved forward and back, but soon he stroked toward her. She let him, holding still as he fucked her mouth, careful never to push hard against the back of her throat, but seeming to find real pleasure in the way she twisted her hands around his base and sucked with her mouth.
Abruptly, he shoved her backward and bent toward her. He pulled her arm, forcing her to her feet, then pressed his shoulder against her belly. She fell over his shoulder and let out an “eep,” as he straightened and headed toward the stairs. “Don’t you dare drop me!”
“Won’t. Shut up.”
Bemused by his brusque tone, she watched the tops of his buttocks flex as he moved and reached downward to cup them.
“What are you doing?”
“Touching what I’m lookin’ at. Got a problem?”
A smack landed on her bottom.
“What was that for?”
“Making sure you’re as hot and bothered as I am, sweetheart. This is gonna be quick.”
True to his word, a second after he tossed her onto the mattress, he was on top, his very red and swollen cock thrusting through her channel.
As he filled her, she gulped air and raked his back with her nails.
He hooked her knees to raise them and pushed them toward her chest, bending her like a contortionist as he fucked. The verb. A powerful, harsh verb which best described the motions as he stroked and stroked, his face getting redder, his gaze more heated.
She cupped his cheeks and lifted her head, the angle of her body making it impossible to breathe, but air was overrated.
His lips were moist, his tongue savage as it thrust inside.
Suddenly, he halted. “Fucking hell,” he eased backward.
“No!” She grabbed his shoulders.
“Baby, I forgot. I don’t have a condom.”
Tingles ran along her skin, and she didn’t want to stop the sensation. “It’s okay. I’m safe. I’m on the pill.”
He gave a savage shake of his head. “I can’t promise I am. Gimme a second.”
Her breath shuddered out as she considered what he said. She lowered her legs and lay panting on the bed while he rustled inside the drawer of his nightstand. He found what he needed, ripped it open with his teeth, and then hissed as he rolled it down his cock.
“That hurt?”
“No, trying not to blow.”
When he lowered himself over her again, he glanced into her face. “Are you okay with this? I can stop. I know I fucked up the moment.”
Carly reached up and curved her fingers around the back of his head and pulled his thick hair—hard. “Just finish it.”
In the middle of the night, she made him a stack of grilled cheese sandwiches and two more for herself, watching bemused as he consumed them in large, efficient bites. She wore one of his navy T-shirts with the gold Montana Bounty Hunters logo. The shirt fell nearly to her knees. He wore a pair of faded jeans, the top button undone. All that broad, manly chest was bare for her to ogle, which she did, completely unashamed.
When he finished the last one, he met her stare, frowning. “I’ll hit the clinic on Monday. Get ch
ecked.”
She met his frown with one of her own. “Do that.”
“You pissed?”
Sighing, she shook her head. “I didn’t think you were a choir boy, but hearing the words was...jolting.” She dropped her glance to her coffee cup and circled the rim with a finger. “I know you’ve probably had hundreds of women.”
A scoff sounded. “Not hundreds.”
“Dozens,” she bit out.
He grimaced then shrugged.
She arched a brow. This conversation was going from bad to worse. “You don’t know?”
Brows furrowed, he reached out and placed his hand over hers. “Like you said. I’m not a choir boy.”
So, she was just another notch on his bedpost. Her shoulders slumped, and she toyed with the leftover crust of her sandwich.
He cleared his throat. “I’ve never wanted to be monogamous. Didn’t think I could do it.”
The way he said it, or maybe the way he stared, with his cool, unblinking gaze, caught her attention. “Is that something...that might change?”
“Let’s see...”
Don’t push, he meant. But a flicker of hope ignited inside her, and she relaxed. No, she didn’t expect this would last forever, but she did hope it would last longer than the term of her ride-along.
He pointed at his empty plate. “Those were good.”
With a one-sided smile, she said, “I have a confession.”
His eyelids dipped as he stared at her mouth. “You spit in my sandwiches?”
Jerking back her head, she wrinkled her nose. “Who’d have the guts to do that to you? No, you’ve tasted the only thing I can cook. Can’t even boil eggs—the shells split and the centers turn green.”
He chuckled. “I can cook. We won’t starve.”
“Yeah?” She lifted her coffee cup and peered over the rim. “Who taught you?” Her own mother had a live-in housekeeper who took care of nasty things like cooking and cleaning.
“Learned from an Italian who lived in my barracks when I was in the Marines. Most meals, we had to eat in the mess hall. But on weekends, when we were free, we’d gather money from anyone who wanted a home-cooked meal and buy supplies. He showed me how to make a lot of things.”
Reaper (Montana Bounty Hunters Book 1) Page 7