by Jodi Linton
“Not at liberty to discuss such matters, since said prick enjoys stringing me along for the heck of it.”
The grin widened. “At least you’re on the fence. That means I still have a fighting chance.”
Moments later, I found myself eyeballing a corkboard tacked with police reports and mug shots. The stark black-and-white images glared back at me, demanding my undivided attention. On the left showcased Luke Wagner’s life better than his own family album: his mother’s obituary, his high school graduation, his arrest two summers ago for Bosley Conrad’s death. And then my eyes smacked into the first recent photograph of Danny Redbud in ages. Tall, lean, blue-eyed blond. Threatening. Not to mention, it was really damn uncanny how much Redbud and Luke resembled each other in appearance. I pulled the beer bottle to my lips and proceeded to close in on the map outlining the past two weeks of my life. There were several pictures taken of Luke and me standing outside the Filler-Up. Him with me at Willie King’s car lot, arm slung tightly around my neck. Bile swam up my throat. Thumbtacked in the middle of the board was a blurry image of me leaning across the bench seat of Luke’s truck and planting a kiss on his cheek outside my house.
Sucking down the beer, I whirled at the sound of paper crunching behind me. Gunner was lounged in a chair with both black boots kicked up on an old desk. A wickedly smooth grin slashed his stone-hard face. I had no reaction. I really had nothing to say. It might’ve been the first time in my life I could wave the white flag, shouting, “Speechless.”
He gestured at the pictures. “By now I would’ve thought you’d have ripped me a new one.”
“You’ve been pretty damn busy, Gunner.” The only cowboy who had ever managed to wrangle my heart playfully wet his lips. Since he was so adamant about opening a can of worms, I decided to play along. “I hope you have a good explanation for stalking me this past week.”
Gunner pulled on the beer as he uncrossed both ankles, straightened to a stand, and swaggered around the desk to take a seat on the edge. “Where should we start”—he gestured from the corkboard to my face—“the impending case or the corkboard?”
“How about you start by explaining those damn pictures of me?”
“That’s reasonable enough.”
I slammed the beer down on the desk next to his thigh. “Let’s get this interrogation started.”
“I’ve been working undercover as Cash Sterling, the son of the billionaire CEO of Sycore Crops. It got me an in to the swinger parties.” He paused, which I knew was to take in the way my bottom lip had face-planted on the ground. “Sycore is the company Redbud is interested in buying out, Laney.”
“So all this time you led me to believe Cash Sterling was the prime suspect behind your parents’ murders, but you’ve been using the name as an undercover alias. Is this the reason for all those late nights? Why you’ve been crawling into bed during the wee hours of the morning?”
He shrugged. “Pretty much. That’s why I could never really tell you much about it. Since September I’ve been chasing down leads on Danny Redbud, and then the rangers got some inside intel on his swinger parties, so I decided to go undercover at that point. Mainly due to the fact that Redbud and I have never crossed paths, but he’s been a pain in my ass dating all the way back to my days in Houston.”
I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it, unable to even put together a coherent thought. As I looked at Gunner, I knew he’d clued in to what I was thinking.
“You’re curious about Wyatt?”
I nodded unconsciously.
“Word got around that your cousin was in deep with Willie King and Danny Redbud on the illegal gun smuggling in the area.”
I placed both hands on my thighs and leaned forward. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me Redbud was behind the whole shit storm with Wyatt?”
He smiled a self-satisfied smile. “Yep.”
“So this whole damn case from Wyatt to Willie King’s arrest has all been about getting Redbud?”
“More or less.” He focused back on my face. “Aren’t you the least bit curious about the couples I spent time with at the swinger parties?”
“Well, them, too.” Man, I was pissing mad. Here all this time I thought he was working a case in El Paso, and instead he was bumping uglies at the swinger parties. “So, Wilson, did you have fun getting down and dirty with the couples?”
“You really believe I’d fuck them?”
“Well, I hope to hell you didn’t screw the guy. That could make this whole damn thing we have going on a lot more complicated.”
“Yep, that could make things really damn interesting, sweetheart.” He swung a leg down as he sat up and moved closer to the edge of the desk. Arching a brow, he asked, “What do you take me for, Laney, a desperate man?”
Granted, I should’ve known Gunner Wilson was trouble when he strutted back into Pistol Rock over two years ago, but I had a sign taped to my back saying, Put your dick here for a good time.
“Going to tell me who your date was to the swinger parties?”
Gunner roughly slung back another drink. The harsh swallow settled in the pit of his thick, muscular neck like a baseball. “Sydney Adams. She’s from the Houston federal office and is running the Houston operation on Redbud.” He tried to use his pretty boy smiles on me. “I promise it was purely professional.”
I shot him the look of death. “Professional, my ass!”
His mouth formed a hard line. “I only have eyes for one lady law officer, and she seems to be more interested in hanging me out to dry by my nut sack than kissing me.”
My arms flew out at my sides as I felt the pain of his betrayal hit me full force. He’d gone behind my back all in an attempt to make a name for himself in the Odessa office, and in return he’d dragged my family through the mud. “That’s because you lied to me. And to think I trusted you to take my heart around the block again.”
He shot up, leveling me with a scowl. “We’ve both made mistakes, Laney Briggs. You and I can’t seem to dig ourselves out of the shit piling down on us fast enough to catch a breath before more shit starts raining from the skies.”
“And you think arresting my cousin Wyatt and lying about Luke Wagner was a good way of putting your best foot forward?”
He scratched his head. “No. But I don’t see where hashing out past mistakes is going to get us anywhere.” He stopped pacing and pressed the back of his head against the wall, taking a moment to think. “Will you just hear me out?”
I shrugged.
“I fucked up, okay.” His brows furrowed. “Look, sweetheart. We need to get a couple things straight here. Luke Wagner has gotten himself in the crosshairs of a rich prick who wouldn’t blink an eye before slitting his throat. And at the moment I am the only person, other than our rancher friend, who can get up close and personal with Redbud.”
“Damn you, Gunner Wilson!”
“Hey!” He lifted both hands in an act of self-defense. “I never asked you to go on a warpath when it came to tracking down Wyatt. He and I both knew what I was asking him to do, and he didn’t blink an eye before agreeing to the terms. When Wyatt first signed up to help me—I mean, the rangers—take down Willie King, he’d been informed that Willie was smuggling guns for some bigwig named Danny Redbud. Then the little rat had to go AWOL, toked out of his mind, and get Ruth involved.” He kicked off the wall and strolled toward me.
“You’re still leaving me in the dark, handsome,” I said, all the heartache slowly starting to pour out of me. When he began to interrupt, I raised a finger. “I know all about Willie, Wyatt, and your underhanded deals with the two of them.” He frowned. Ignoring the displeased look, I plunged on. “Okay, Wyatt helped smuggle guns for Willie King. And Wyatt caused a shit storm when he decided to bail on y’all’s so-called agreement.” I took note of Gunner’s strained expression. “Now, my question is, how long have you known about the swinger parties? And when did you and Luke become so close?” My hands involuntarily flew out from my
sides at the first sign of his lips moving. I narrowed my gaze at him. There was still a loaded gun waiting to fire, and he needed to hear the blast.
“Now I can explain…” he began. Gunner swallowed hard, but hell, he’d caused this strain in our relationship. And I was dead set on not being the first to cave. He shifted uncomfortably against the wall, grumbling under his breath. “I was working a case on Redbud back in Houston, and, Laney”—Gunner looked up, staring back at me—“he’s lethal. We have him pinned to at least twenty murders and ten illegal gun runs, as well as drug trafficking and human slavery, but the rangers’ office was never able to nail down a lead on Redbud until Wyatt got caught up in the crosshairs.”
“And you thought it was a good idea to drag Wyatt into this whole fucking mess, right?”
“Well, you dragged Colt into it,” Gunner shot back. It stung me to the core. When he saw the shocked look on my face, he shook his head in disgust, muttering, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Then he added, “My boss found out Willie King was getting his illegal guns from a source out in Odessa, and then when it came back to be Redbud, he dug a little deeper. We started to connect the dots that Wyatt had been in bed with Willie for the past three months, so my boss asked me to use my connections and get in good with Wyatt. It wasn’t supposed to go down like this.” Gunner shook his head while raking a hand through his hair. “And I never expected Luke to be involved, or Mitch having a piece of the Redbud pie. And now I have the blood of a dirty cop on my hands, one fed recovering at the hospital, and my sweetheart doubting my love.”
“You’re the badass gun-pothead-arresting Texas Ranger. I think you can handle a few not-so-good city boys.” I leaned forward on the windowsill. “What do you suggest we do in order to snuff Danny Redbud out and get him to confess to murder?”
He wet his lips and sauntered toward me. When he crossed in front of me, we locked eyes for a heartbeat. And then I gulped, feeling the sting of the hard, bitter swallow resting heavily in the back of my throat.
Abruptly his rough, callused hand caught my face, cupped my chin, and tipped it upward into the zone of that oral-pleasing mouth. For a long, mind-numbing second we just stared into each other’s eyes. Then Gunner pulled me closer, putting only a hairline fracture between our mouths. My throat immediately went dry. He leaned in, his mouth so close I could practically drink the beer off his lips. “Well, if it was up to me, I’d corner Redbud at one of his parties and make him uneasy. Then I’d stake him out until he messed up and led me to the evidence.” His thumb tapped my chin. “But my boss considers that shoddy police work, so he put me under strict orders to follow the plan. Like no more punching out suspects.”
I shrugged, not the least bit surprised by his statement. “Well, hell, Wilson, that seems simple enough.”
“Maybe simple for you,” Gunner said, captivating me with a single look. “But your dick radar has been slightly skewed since you grew boobs. Somebody’s got to keep all those shitheads’ paws off ya.”
“What about you?” My gaze drifted toward the huge bulge surging against his zipper. “Can I jot you down as a potential pawer?”
He barked a laugh. “More like your one and only dick whisperer.”
Letting my head fall back on my shoulders, I sighed at his infuriating comeback. “Tell me the plan with Luke, and then I’ll let you know how good your dick radar actually is.”
He danced a hand up my inner thigh. “Friday I plan on attending one of Redbud’s swinger parties and talking business as the wealthy tycoon brat Cash Sterling. If I can get Redbud to agree to a meeting in his office, I might be able to gather some evidence on the man.”
“You can’t be seriously planning on a partner swap.” Not entirely sure if I was more concerned about Gunner and a sexy female cop strolling hand in hand into a swinger party or the fact that on many levels I still didn’t trust him. “Would Sydney what’s-her-name being going with you?”
“Nope.” He kissed my forehead. “Ms. Adams hopped a plane back to Houston last weekend due to an old case needing her attention.”
“Your plan stinks.” I looked him in the eyes and knew instantly I was a goner. “Walking into a couples’ sex party as a single dude is just plain stupid.”
“What do you say, Laney?” He stroked a thumb down the nerve thumping along my pulse, then stepped between my legs. “Wanna be my date tomorrow?”
I squirmed, locked in his hold. “Shit, I knew hanging out with you was a bad idea.”
He moved in closer and let go of my wrists, placing his hands on either side of my face as he towered over me, pinning my back against the desk. “I fucking love you. So damn much.” He pressed his lips softly against my forehead. “Tell me you still love me.” Teeth skimmed my chin as his mouth tickled my overly sensitive neck. “Please say what you said to me on Christmas Eve. I need to hear it again, Laney.”
Pressing my forehead into his, I sighed, saying, “Yes, I still love you.” Running my mouth along his square jaw, I nipped at his chin and admitted my final truth. “I’ll always love you, Gunner Wilson. I’m yours until death do us part.”
It was as if all the air rushed out and the only thing that stood between us was a few garments of clothing. He gathered me in his arms and pulled my neck to his lips, then feathered a soft, possessive touch against my mouth. “You’re it for me, sweetheart. I’m so sick and tired of thinking about losing you again.” He roughly pressed a kiss into my neck. “And I can’t take another damn second denying us another chance at happiness.” He nuzzled my shoulder as his gaze wandered the length of my body, settling in on the spot where my tank top was clinging to my breasts. Gunner kissed a sweaty patch along the swell of my breast. “How about we try something new?” And then he sank his teeth into my shoulder as he nudged a knee between my limp thighs. “Are you game, sweetheart?”
The need to feel him inside me intensified.
“I’m always up for a thrill.” I went slack against the desk, giving him the reins to show me what he did best—wind me up like a spinning top.
Gunner crawled on top of me and straddled my waist, and then his mouth was on my neck and his hands were all over my breasts.
I lifted my head, needing to feel his mouth on mine. Most of the time, I enjoyed a little recklessness, but as I lay pinned beneath my smoking-hot ranger, I knew I’d never be able to outrun my past, and hell, I ached to give him control. I nipped at his bottom lip, drawing the chapped flesh between my teeth. His breath grew ragged and sent my heart racing, so I sucked harder, determined to bring my cowboy to his knees. Dropping my gaze to his expanding zipper fly, I rolled my tongue along the edge of his mouth.
“Make me believe again, Gunner Wilson.” I drank in his chiseled, hard expression, anticipating the moment he threw caution to the wind.
He hissed, then suddenly grabbed the sides of my face and pushed me back. Dancing a hand up my thigh, he began to toy with my panties. And then when his thumb flicked the scrap of damp fabric out of the way and found a cozy spot right on my humming clit, I was ready to shout, “Hallelujah, screw me, cowboy.”
Instead, a sigh broke from my lips, and the back of my head butted the desk as those rough fingers pinched the tender nub. I moaned. And again he squeezed my clit, chuckling. “You need me, don’t you?”
I shifted beneath him, rustling the black cotton T-shirt against my bare midriff. “God, yes, Gunner.”
A raw, manly laugh filled the room as he reached behind the desk, shuffled about a drawer, and then produced his cuffs. He kissed the inside of my wrist. “Let’s see if we can fix that.” The cuff latched, pinching at flesh. “Ready to take me for a ride?” He smiled as the cuff found a secure home around my other wrist.
He had no idea.
When my hips rocked upward, I felt the hard planes of chiseled abs flatten against my belly. Warm lips sucked along my collarbone. And my inner thighs trembled at the forceful nudge of his erection pressing into my sweaty flesh. “It seems you have the upper hand here,�
�� I said.
A low, deep chuckle vibrated along my neck. “Like I’d risk having my sweetheart run off on me again.” He laughed. With a firm, strong grip on my waist, Gunner anchored himself within licking distance of my damp entrance. “Now try not to squirm,” he ordered in a rough and commanding voice, his hand pressed into my stomach as his nose nuzzled just below my belly button. “I’d hate to have to punish you.” Brown eyes dancing with a daring promise lifted upward and fitted in tune with mine. “Unless…” He wet his lips, smiled, and rubbed his thumb at my clit. Shit. The pleasurable sigh escaped my mouth, and before I had time to think, he pinched the tender nub slowly into a hard firm clasp. “Have you been a bad girl, Laney Briggs?”
“That depends on the punishment.”
Hand cupping me, one corner of his mouth turned up. “This…is for finding you half dressed at a strip club.” Then his finger parted my damp folds, and his thumb pinched my clit again. My back lifted off the desk when the pressure grew, wow, only to go slack against the desk when I remembered both my hands were cuffed together and any attempt to shuck those enticingly hypnotic Wranglers wasn’t in my cards, well, just yet. Gunner squeezed again. And hard. I sighed. “Feel that?” he asked, thumb rolling over my swollen nub.
My whole damn body vibrated.
Gunner’s playful, boyish grin appeared, the one that on most days could make me cook a five-course dinner. He wedged both muscled legs on either side of me as he angled his body above mine. My thighs clenched, awaiting the onslaught of that mouth, and then he bent his head and took the dive, running his tongue along my inner thigh. He licked and nibbled, drawing me to the brink of pleasure only to ease the quickening by circling his finger deeper. Harder. My hips wiggled against him, needing to feel his wet, hungry mouth devouring me. Yet instead of hot lips a shot of cool air breezed across my wound-up flesh as he delved another digit inside, rotating and scissoring his forefinger and thumb in a slow, mind-numbing seduction that, well, was making me mad with lust. Trying to gain an upper hand, I raked my feet down his muscular calves and thighs, loving the way he cursed on a growl when my heels dug beneath the waistband of his Wranglers.