by Susan Stoker
“It’s okay, Cain. Don’t be gentle. I need this. Take me there.”
As though she’d eased her grip on the reins, he powered faster, roaring as he pounded inside her. So wet, so tight. Oh fuck, I’m going to lose it now—but he hammered on, holding on by a thread—that snapped the moment she dug her head into the pillow and screamed.
They rocked together, hands gliding in sweat, bodies locked long after his erection waned. He was where he wanted to be, to stay, and she seemed damn happy, as well, judging by how she held his face to tilt this way and that as she kissed his chin, his cheeks, everywhere she wanted. He captured her mouth and kissed her sweet lips, realizing this was their first.
“Sorry,” he whispered, when he pulled back. “I should have started here.”
“That the protocol?” she said, her eyes wrinkling at the corners as she smiled.
He shook his head. “It’s the law. Mouth like that needs the right care.” He placed another kiss on her mouth, then rolled until she lay on top. At last, his cock slid free.
She groaned. “I already miss him inside me.”
“Give me a few seconds to catch my breath. I’ll make sure he gets back where he belongs.”
“A few seconds?” She chuckled and arched an eyebrow. “You Superman?”
“No, just a cowboy. I’ve been a walking hard-on for days. Won’t take much to get him interested again.”
She kissed the side of his neck then raised her head to meet his gaze. “The offer still open?”
“For you to stay? Hell, yeah.”
“But there’ve got to be some ground rules.”
He narrowed his eyes, more than a bit amused she was turning his words back on him. “Shoot.”
“You have to let me contribute. You say I’m getting my money back, well, I want to pay my fair share.”
Cain didn’t want them to have their first argument, but there was something she had to understand. “I don’t want that money, Carina. It was his. Keep it to buy clothes, whatever you want, take out your little revenge against him by frittering it away—or save it in case you do need it someday. For as long as you’re with me, I’ll take care of what you need.”
“I don’t want to be a burden, and I don’t want to be that girl anymore.”
Cain framed her face with his hands. “He may have made you his trophy girl, but I’d never think of you like that. Never expect you to be or look a certain way. Just because I’m making the money right now doesn’t mean I won’t respect you.”
A frown marred her forehead. “I’ve never held a job,” she whispered.
He felt a pang inside his chest. She was so damn young. “I can think of plenty of ways you can earn your way here, baby.” He gave her a hard glare when her frown deepened. “You’ve got a dirty mind. I was talking about you helping me with this place. If you don’t mind painting, learning to lay tile, or cleaning up sawdust, those things would be a big help.”
She chewed her bottom lip. “I could cook. Do your laundry.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “See? Sounds like a full-time job to me.”
She stared for a minute then sighed and rested her cheek on his shoulder. “I can’t get a job, anyway. Someday, he’ll come for me. If I wasn’t thinking with something other than my head, I’d be on a plane to some other country—one with gun laws and where people don’t know who the hell Joey works for.”
“You don’t have to run. I’ve got some ideas to keep you safe.” He filtered his fingers through her hair. “Trust me, darlin’. He’ll make a mistake. When he does, I’ll be there to nail his ass.”
Carina traced a finger around his nipple. Then she scratched the tip with her nail. “Your breathing sounds fine to me.”
So, she wanted to change the subject. Cain lifted her chin with his thumb and searched her face. “I’ll keep you safe, Carina. If you want this, with me, then I’ll do my part.”
Again, her eyes glanced shyly from beneath the dark fringe of her lashes. “I don’t want you because I feel safe, Cain. I kind of like being here. I like you.”
He hoped like hell that one day soon, she’d more than “like” him. Because he was pretty damn sure he was already in love.
Chapter Six
‡
Carina stood back and looked at the stripes of color she’d painted side-by-side on the wall of the spare bedroom. Cain had brought back little cans of paint in each color she’d selected from the paint chip samples from the local hardware store. Her job was to choose the room color—his way of letting her leave her imprint on the house.
She thought it a very sweet gesture. Perhaps the most romantic thing a man had ever done. Not that they’d spoken of the future, but she had the feeling like Cain intended for her to be here a long time.
Maybe they were both crazy. This should never work. He was a small town cop who’d never lived anywhere but Caldera, Texas. She was from Chicago and had never done anything of note—other than being the object of a bad man’s obsession. They shouldn’t work. But somehow, they did.
After the first night they’d made love, she’d thought, maybe, her fascination with the man would wane. That she’d discover he snored—he did, but not so loudly she didn’t think the sound was cute. That she’d find some disagreeable personal habit she couldn’t look beyond, but so far, he was perfect.
Too perfect. Kind, sexy, considerate. Was she looking at him through rose-colored glasses and simply not seeing his flaws?
Carina took a deep breath and looked at the stripes again. The hallway would be the same soft blue color as the living room below. Off-white was nice, but boring. Brown would make the cozy room look even smaller. Buttery cream would be beautiful, but next to it her skin looked green—so that would never do. What would happen if she painted the walls the pale yellow and he saw her against one? He might decide she wasn’t the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, as he told her often. The taupe might work—if she used touches of brown and blue and maybe pops of lime in the bedcovers and pillows.
And there she was imagining her future here, picking out the furnishings for a spare bedroom she might never see used. She glanced at the windows. Still wary of being seen from below, even after all these days, she wished she could take a walk outside so she could think of something besides Cain and the renovations. There. She’d admitted she was dissatisfied with something—mainly that she’d been cooped up far too long. Damn Joey Guiducci.
A door opened below, and she capped the paint cans and set her brush on a tray. Cain must be finished cutting the boards for the new doorframe for the mudroom, since the old frame was beginning to rot.
Relieved she could set aside her worries, she hurried downstairs. When she was with Cain, she didn’t have the ability to think. Happiness tended to sweep away the cobwebs—and his ready smile and swoon-worthy frame definitely made her happy.
He was setting down the boards over the center of the crawlspace opening when she walked in. His hair and chest were covered with bits of sawdust, and he smelled like freshly cut wood. A smell he carried to bed and which she loved.
He shot her a glance. “You pick a color?”
“I’m close.”
His mouth crimped together like he was trying not to smile.
She gave him a deep frown. “It’s not that easy. I want to choose the right one.”
“Did I say a word?”
“No, but you’re laughing at me. How’d you ever choose that blue?”
“I asked Sherry to choose a color. First one she said, I bought.”
“Seriously?” She stared. “If she’d chosen chartreuse, would you have painted it puke green?”
“Sherry has good taste. I knew she wouldn’t tell me something I’d hate.”
Irritation flashed, and she fisted a hand on her hip. “Maybe you should have let her choose the rest of the colors.”
Cain stood and brushed off his chest and arms. Then, before she could back away, he picked her up by the waist and walked her into
the kitchen. He set her on the counter, pushed apart her legs, and stepped between them.
The moment she felt him press against her pussy, she sighed.
“Baby, you’re overthinking. I don’t care what damn color you paint the walls. I want you happy with it.”
“I like the butter cream, but I look green next to it.”
“You would never look green.”
She slipped the sample card from her back pocket and held it up beside her cheek.
His glance fell to the card then flicked to her cheek. “See what you mean.”
Her eyes began to fill.
“You’re not cryin’ over paint, are you?”
She slumped. “No, you don’t think I’m pretty with butter cream.”
His eyebrows pulled together as he stared. “You get your period?”
Her jaw dropped, and she slapped his shoulder. She opened her mouth to rail at him for being indelicate, but then she realized something. “We haven’t been using anything.”
“I know.”
“You knew, and you didn’t think to use something?” She pushed against his shoulders. “I was in a fire. My purse and my pills were burned to a crisp. I get a pass for being stupid. You don’t!”
He shook his head. “I don’t give a shit about your pills or a damn condom, because I’m all in, Carina. Herpes, babies, I don’t give a shit.”
“You can’t have thought that the first time…” His slow nod calmed her upset. Cain wasn’t stupid, and she owed him an apology for saying that, but now she knew he wasn’t just thinking about now or tomorrow, or even next week. Cain had purposely ignored protection—maybe he’d even planned to trap her that way. So, he had a flaw—being just a little sneaky. She could live with that one. She raised her chin. “I like the butter cream. I don’t care if I look like crap against it. I’m not sleeping in that room.”
“You finished?” he asked, his fingers already busy opening the button at the front of her jeans.
“Guess so,” she said, pulling her tee over her head.
“Damn convenient—you with no underwear.” He clutched the waist of her jeans and pushed.
She gripped the edge of the counter and lifted her butt to allow him to shove them down her legs. “You already work so hard, I’d hate to add another chore.”
When she was nude, he parted her thighs, gave her a hot glare, and then knelt.
Oh, she loved this part. Loved his mouth on her sex. Joey hadn’t bothered after their first few dates, but Cain seemed to enjoy the act nearly as much as she did. She widened her thighs and leaned backward, closing her eyes as his tongue traced her slit then fluttered against her clit.
He took his time, giving her long, languorous strokes with the flat of his tongue, then deeper, pointed thrusts inside her. All the while, his thumbs tugged and rasped at her folds and hardening knot. Just when her core tightened and she began the climb, he stood and shoved his jeans past his hips, freeing his cock.
She stared at his thick, hard shaft, and her breaths became short, labored pants. He gripped her buttocks and drew her off the edge of the counter, and she quickly wrapped her legs around his hips as he entered her. With the gentle crush of his hands, he controlled the depth of his thrusts, lowering her slowly, then raising her…then lowering her again.
Carina tossed back her hair and clung to his shoulders, letting loose a low growl because this sexy man was driving her crazy. Tall and strong, his movements were measured. He was rarely in a rush and never left her behind. For once, it was true—she was one lucky girl.
Cain strode to an open wall and leaned her against it. “This could get a little rough,” he said, his voice low and husky.
A shiver ran over her bare skin. “God, I hope so,” she said, tightening her grip around his hips.
“I like the way I feel, all up inside you, baby.”
“Sweet talk me all you want, but actions speak louder, cowboy.” She tightened her intimate muscles and gave him a slow squeeze.
“Damn, baby, do that again, and I can’t promise how long I’ll last.”
She grinned and gave him another, and that was all it took.
His face hardened, and his lips drew away from his teeth as he hammered her against the wall.
His phone chirped on the nightstand, and Cain left Carina dozing on the bed, a sheet twisted around her hips. Once he was padding down the stairs, he answered. “Whitfield, here.”
“Found the car, Cain.”
Josh’s voice sounded in his ear. “Where?”
“A hay barn on Jeremiah’s property. Near the canyon. Ran the plates. The Viper’s definitely his.”
His grip on the phone tightened. “Shit. So he’s still in the area.”
“And he’s likely scored a new set of wheels. Thought you should know. I’m adding another man to patrol. Looks like you’re not going anywhere for a while.”
Cain’s gaze went up the stairway, and he cussed under his breath. “We’d hoped he had given up. She’s getting a little stir-crazy. Guess we both are.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I’ll take a turn around the yard. Who’s on tonight?”
“Tank and Emerson. Me. We’ll all drive by. If you hear so much as a floorboard creak, you call.”
“Will do.” He rang off then sat on the steps. Well, shit. They couldn’t live like this indefinitely. Something had to give. Carina didn’t deserve living like a prisoner. He thought about waking her to tell her, but she was sleeping so soundly, he didn’t have the heart. So, instead, he crept back upstairs, found his jeans and a pair of boots, and quietly dressed in the kitchen. His glance went to the counter where he’d begun making love to her. She’d been so damn sexy, her lips pouting, her eyes scrunched as he’d eaten her out. Every time he went down on her, she got so damn excited, like she’d been given something special. He doubted that fucker she’d lived with had ever taken the time to see to her pleasure.
Maybe Cain couldn’t give her cars and jewelry, but he could love her the way she deserved. But first, he had to keep her safe. He headed to the garage and the toolbox he kept locked where he stored his sidearm and holster. He’d have to start wearing it again. Even if it upset Carina to see how serious the situation had become. Joey Guiducci was one stubborn bastard, but his jealous greed would get him killed. If he so much as showed his face near the house, Cain would make sure he’d never be a problem again.
Carina woke early, the sheets cool and Cain gone. She glanced toward the curtained window. Gray light filtered through a gap. Dawn. He’s up early.
She stretched and groaned. Her body ached, but in a good way. Sex with Cain was better than any gym workout. She was half-tempted to go back to sleep, but if he was up, he needed breakfast, and cooking was her job now. So she rose and dressed in blue jeans and a tee, smiling that having limited options meant she was ready in minutes. Still, she’d have to talk him into at least one shopping excursion. A girl needed makeup. And more than one change of clothing. He had yet to see her all done up. She liked the thought of surprising him. He thought she was beautiful just the way she was. He was cute. But he really had no idea…
After brushing her hair and her teeth she headed downstairs, halting at the kitchen door because he was there, sitting on a barstool, a dirty towel on the counter, the pieces of his pistol laid out as he applied oil to the barrel. All her warm and fuzzy feelings scattered.
As she caught her breath, she noted other things. His bare back was tense. He wore jeans and boots. Grass clippings clung to the soles of his boots. He’d been “walking the perimeter” again—what he called his turns around the yard. He did them every night, but now something was different. He was too stiff. He knew she was there—she hadn’t been quiet coming down the stairs—and yet, he hadn’t turned to give her a lazy smile.
“I’ll make breakfast,” she said softly, knowing he’d tell her what she needed to know when he was good and ready. And she might not like what he had to say. So, she gathered eggs and bacon from the refrige
rator, bread from the pantry, and began preparing their meal.
Coffee was already made, half a pot still in the carafe, so he’d been up quite a while. She poured herself a cup, adding cream to kill the bitterness, and then stepped beside him as he completed putting together his weapon.
Her glance went to the one article of clothing she hadn’t seen him wearing in days. The holster attached to his belt. “Breakfast will be ready in a minute.”
“Thanks,” he said.
His voice sounded a little rusty, and she remembered the cool sheets. “Did you get much sleep?”
He shook his head then slid the Glock into the holster. Without looking her way, he said, “Baby, you remember the rules?”
She nodded, a chill shivering over her skin, lifting goose bumps. “Food’s ready,” she said, turning away. She returned to the stove and loaded his plate before preparing her own, although her appetite was gone. Still, she’d make a show of normalcy to keep him company.
He ate methodically, as though he didn’t want to eat, but knew he needed the sustenance.
She played with hers, mostly swallowing down the coffee. A mistake. Her nerves were already stretched, and when she lifted her fork, her hand shook.
Cain made a noise, took the fork from her hand, and then turned her seat to face him. “I won’t be going back to work anytime soon.”
Carina tried to still her shaking and meet his gaze. “He’s still here, isn’t he?”
He gave a terse nod. “A rancher found the Viper hidden in a barn.”
Dread settled in her already jumpy stomach. “So we don’t even know what he’s driving.”
His gaze trailed away. “Patrols have been stepped up.”
“You can’t go without sleep. We can take turns—”
“We’ll handle this, sweetheart.”
Her bottom lip trembled, and the tears she’d tried to hold back filled her eyes. “Why won’t he let me go?” She sniffed and rubbed a hand over her nose.