* * *
SHELBY AWOKE WITH a scream. She launched into a sitting position, caught in a nightmare where Welton had her by her throat and was choking her.
Instantly, Dakota jerked awake. Fully awake. Without thinking, he sat up, reached out and found her in the darkness. “Shel...it’s okay,” he rasped, dragging her into his arms. “It’s just a nightmare. You’re safe....”
She gave a cry of relief. She didn’t resist him, but instead collapsed in his arms, her head coming to rest against his shoulder.
“Oh...God...” A low moan tore out of her throat, her hand pressed against her neck. “Welton was choking me.”
“Shh, it’s just a bad dream,” he whispered, pulling her next to him. He smoothed her mussed hair, his fingers threading slowly between the dry, silky strands. “He can’t hurt you, Shel. I won’t ever let that happen. You’re okay, you’re safe.”
His moist, heated breath flowed across her cheek and ear. The trembling that had held her captive began to dissolve as his lips lightly grazed her cheek, her brow and hair. “I never have nightmares, Dakota. Not ever.”
“Don’t worry. The nightmares don’t kill you. I have them every night. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have them.”
“You’re sick,” she mumbled, smiling a little as his teasing short-circuited her terror. Shelby burrowed her face into his shoulder. His male scent ate away at the edges of her bad dream. She heard his rolling chuckle. The sound surrounded her and she slipped her arm around his slab-hard belly. Sometime during the night, he’d opened his bag and the material was bunched up around his waist.
“No, just being honest,” he rumbled, smiling a little into the darkness. He savored the feel of her body against his, the curve of her waist as he slid his hand across the swell of her hip. Automatically, as if he were soothing a fractious, frightened horse, he trailed his fingers from her shoulder down the length of her spine to her hips. The camisole was a thin barrier and he fought to ignore the silky motion beneath his fingertips. When she burrowed closer to him, her hips nuzzling against his, he knew she was silently asking him to love her. Dakota grew hard. Wanting her, knowing it wasn’t the right time, he forced himself to keep his ministrations light, not intimate. Perspiration popped out on his brow and across his shoulders as he wrestled control over his own body. At the same time, another part of him screamed its need to make her his.
Shelby ran her hand up across his naked back, feeling a number of long scars beneath her fingertips. Had to be war wounds. How much pain had Dakota endured? Wherever she traced, his flesh tensed. The nightmare had been so violent, so real. Shelby wanted to do something to make it disappear. Without thinking, more out of instinct, she lifted her chin, rose on her elbow, sought and found Dakota’s mouth in the darkness.
When her lips touched his, he was startled. Her mouth was soft and searching, cajoling him to respond. He placed massive control over his body, but he was like a primal animal, wanting to take her hard and fast, stamping his maleness into her. His other side wanted to make her a partner, not something to be used. He gritted his teeth, lifted his hand, found her left shoulder. He eased Shelby onto her back, her body against his.
“Shel, is this what you really want?” His voice was husky with concern. He saw the fear banked in her drowsy eyes. Was she running away from the nightmare or running toward him? When a person thought she was going to die, there was an equal, violent will to prove she was alive. Having sex was one helluva way to confirm life over death.
“Yes, I want you,” she breathed, feeling his hand around her back, drawing her up on her right side. “Now. And to answer your question, yes, I’m protected. No more questions.” She eased out of his sheltering embrace, pulling off the camisole and quickly dispensing with her silk panties and socks.
Dakota pulled open his sleeping bag to allow her next to him. Her hips touched and then pressed against his. She had to know how much he wanted her. And when her hand ranged down to his waist, fingers easing beneath the waistband of his boxers, smoldering heat built rapidly within him. She pulled and tugged the rest of his clothes off his body.
Shelby felt the hard strength of his erection pressing insistently into her soft, rounded belly, her own body flexing, aching for him. Dakota slid his arm beneath her neck, drawing her fully up against him. His hard length sent wild shocks rippling down into her womb. Her core grew hot and moist instantly as the beat of his heart thundered against her breasts. Yes, this was what she’d been wanting. Him. All of him. And it had never seemed so right as it did right now.
“Kiss me,” she breathed against the hardened line of his mouth.
His massive control began to crack as her soft lips waged a sweet campaign against him. She sought and found his mouth. Her fingers tangled in his short hair, trailing around the nape of his neck, pulling him down upon her. There was nothing shy or hesitant about Shelby, and Dakota curved his mouth hotly against hers, feeling the returning pressure of her lips, feeling her womanly smile beneath his. She was warm, responsive and when she pressed her hips against his, a groan broke free from deep inside him.
The moment Dakota lifted his hand, his roughened fingers cupping around the curve of her breast, Shelby lost the real world. Her flesh tingled, shards of electricity racing across her skin as those fingers caressed and explored her tightening flesh. The hunger of his mouth plundering hers, his thumb and index finger teasing the nipple into a hardened, needy peak, broke the nightmare and her whole world burned around her. His hips ground into hers, pushing her onto her back, his weight coming down upon her.
Everywhere she moved her fingers, his flesh tensed his muscles leaped beneath her as she mapped out his body, memorizing it and him. It filled her with satisfaction as a woman knowing her feminine power could physically affect him so powerfully. Her fingers grazed across his powerful chest, touching the dark strip of hair and following it down the center of his body that disappeared into his groin. His entire body tensed. There was an urgency to mate with this scarred warrior, this man who held her carefully, as if she were fragile china that might shatter in his embrace. His arms around her, his lips burned a trail of fire from her jaw, neck and down to her breasts. Her world exploded and she became mindless as his mouth settled upon the first nipple, his tongue lavishing it, suckling her, sending her deeper into a need she’d never felt so intensely before. Her body tightened and nearly convulsed as the shocks flew wildly down to her core.
Hips restless, Shelby moaned as his mouth captured the second nipple, his hand brushing her rib cage and easing toward her waist. His fingers sought and found the apex of her thighs, and a softened cry of pleasure tore out of her throat. His large palm flattened out over the area, his fingers moving downward. Somewhere in her cartwheeling mind, she understood Dakota wanted to please her. This wasn’t a man taking sex from a woman for selfish gratification. No, this was a man wanting to awaken her body fully, then meet as equals. As his fingers tangled in the heat and wetness of her, she moaned his name, pleading for more of him. Heart racing, her breath coming in ragged gasps, she pushed against his hand, wanting more. Wanting him.
Dakota felt her silkiness, her slick warmth, telling him she was ready. In one moment, he pulled her over him as he settled on his back, her curved, damp thighs straddling his narrow hips. He could hear her gasping for breath, trembling violently as he brought her hips forward. A little cry tore from her as he moved against her heat, slowly entering her, giving her time to adjust. Gritting his teeth, he wrapped his large hands around her hips as she flowed down onto him, hot and slick. The last of his control disintegrated as she moved with him, her fingers digging convulsively into his chest as he established a wild rhythm between them. Dakota arched his hips against hers and heard her cry of pleasure tremor through her throat. He captured her hips fully against him, bringing more pressure to bear within her, pleasuring her, driving her to the edge of rapture and into his arms.
His hands were relentless, and he thrust d
eeply into her. He drove Shelby to the edge of mindlessness, her body quivering, spasming as he felt her begin to clench around him. An explosion occurred deep within her body and Shelby gave a hoarse cry, her back arching, head thrown back. The rivulets of fire raced outward like circles on a pond, each one more intense, more pleasurable, than the last within her quivering, taut body. And when he leaned upward, his lips capturing her hardened nipples, more explosions released wildly within her.
Lost in the darkness, the heat and feel of her body dissolved. Dakota eased her off him and moved her onto her back. His weight felt wonderful against her body and he nudged her thighs open to receive him again. Waves of glittering sensations blossomed hotly within her core as he moved powerfully within her. He took her swiftly, thrusting deep, stamping her with his maleness, claiming her in the only way a man can claim a woman. Shelby lifted her hips, knowing it would send him over the edge of pleasure. Dakota suddenly tensed. His hands curved into fists on either side of Shelby’s head, his back flexing, violently trembling. A low animal growl rolled out of his chest, the delicious sound reverberating through every cell of her body. She wrapped her long legs around his narrow hips, her face pressed against his neck, their breathing chaotic, sweat slick between them. He released powerfully into her body. More scalding explosions occurred within Shelby, and all she could do was cry out hoarsely and cling to Dakota, who held her a willing prisoner within his arms and against his body. She tasted the sweat across his temple, her mouth searching and finding his. Their mouths clung together, sharing joy, sharing the fire continuing to erupt between them. The coolness of the below-freezing temperature did nothing but make her keenly aware of the sleekness of their burning bodies moving in primal unison with each other.
Collapsing against him, Shelby sobbed for air. Dakota slowly eased off her and brought her against him. Their bodies glowed against each other, their hips fused, their legs entangled. She nestled her head against his shoulder, her fingers moving against his sandpapery cheek, sliding across his damp, short hair. She kissed his corded neck, feeling his powerful pulse beneath her lips. Shelby smiled weakly, leaning up, drawing Dakota’s head toward her so she could kiss him one more time.
His mouth ravished hers, but then became tender and coaxing. Her body was satiated as never before, Shelby curved her hand against the hard line of his jaw. This time, she moved her lips softly against his. His hands skimmed slowly down the breadth of her body and she could feel him memorizing her, gentling her with his touch alone. Shelby discovered a new level of emotion opening up her thundering heart. Fierce feeling flowed through her, taking her to another level of happiness she’d never experienced before.
Once Dakota eased out of her, Shelby nestled against his chest, he drew the sleeping bag over them. He made sure she was completely covered, his large hand coming to rest, finger splaying outward against her hip. It was a claim of possession. A man taking his woman, protecting her, loving her.
She closed her eyes and whispered, “I never want this to end.” And then she fell asleep, utterly spent and cocooned within Dakota’s arms.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE NEXT MORNING, A quarter mile away from the meadow, they discovered Tony Banyon. He’d curled up, knees to chest, next to a Douglas fir and died of hypothermia. Shelby’s heart broke as she took off her glove and held it to the man’s neck, looking for the pulse she knew she wouldn’t find. His skin was faintly bluish-gray. No pulse.
“He died at least four to five hours ago,” Shelby whispered, straightening. At the height of the storm. There was no possible way to have found him in time. She saw something gripped in his gloved hand and gently eased it out from between his frozen fingers. As she read the scrawled note, her heart broke even more.
“It’s a suicide note,” she whispered, handing it to Dakota. Tears came to her eyes. “We were right. He knew what he was doing all along. He didn’t want to be a burden to his wife any longer.” Her voice broke and she stared down at the man. “This is so sad....”
Dakota read it, his mouth pursing. He handed the note back to her and shrugged out of his rucksack. He pulled out a dark green blanket and gently placed it over the older man’s body. “He didn’t have a chance out here and he knew it,” he muttered darkly. Dakota honored his courage to look into death’s face and surrender to it. Not many men could do that.
“That’s a special kind of bravery,” Shelby agreed, her voice raspy with tears. She pulled out her radio, cleared her throat and called HQ, giving them the information. The head ranger would pass on the contents of the note to the wife. Shelby was glad she didn’t have to give the wife the contents of the note. She wasn’t sure she could remain detached. A helicopter would meet them in an hour in the meadow. She looked over to see the mask on Dakota’s face, his eyes dark with suffering for the man and his wife.
“At least this guy died in a place he loved,” he muttered.
“Yes...” Shelby managed, her voice a bit strangled. Emotionally, she was thinking of the wife, their long marriage and to have it all come to a sad end like this. She stuffed the radio back on her belt. “We need to transport him toward the meadow.”
“I’ll do it. Can you carry my ruck?”
Nodding, she hefted his heavy rucksack strap over her left shoulder. They had a good amount of distance to the meadow with knee-deep snow slowing their pace. It was nearly 7:00 a.m., the sky a light blue with scattered clouds left in the wake of the swift-moving storm from last night. She watched Dakota as he gently brought the man’s body into a fireman’s carry across his broad, capable shoulders.
“Let’s go,” Dakota said, barely turning his head to catch her gaze. There were tears glistening in Shelby’s eyes. He was touched deeply, too, but forced his reaction away, the way he always did. The man was small, weighing only about a hundred and thirty pounds. Dakota could easily carry him through the forest. They arrived at the oval, and the helicopter flew in ten minutes later.
Shelby sat with Dakota in the helicopter, holding his gloved hand. Dakota wished he could take away the anguish he saw in her eyes. Shelby was easily touched by human suffering. And he loved her even more than before. Dakota wasn’t looking forward to driving back to Jackson Hole. They would get dumped into another kind of brutal storm, one that promised either life or death.
* * *
“ANYTHING NEW ON WELTON?” Shelby asked Cade Garner as they arrived at the sheriff’s department. They had returned midday from Yellowstone after filling out a lot of paperwork on Tony’s death at Ranger headquarters. Dakota stood relaxed at her side.
Cade was at his desk, papers strewn around it. “No. Your neighbor, Cat Edwin, who works at the fire department, spotted him.”
Frowning, Shelby sat down in front of his desk. “She didn’t see a strange or unknown car?”
“Nothing.” Cade grimaced. “We’re running their photos on local television with the evening news and we’ll continue to do it every day. We’re going to have to catch a break.”
Dakota took a chair and sat down. “We know Welton is focused on Shelby. And he was caught in front of her home.”
“Which was stupid of him, but lucky for us,” Shelby said almost choking on her growing fear. Being stalked wasn’t something she would ever get used to.
“But it shows he’s that cocksure he isn’t going to be recognized,” Cade warned her.
“That’s what you want,” Dakota said, “because that kind of brazen behavior will eventually get him caught.”
Shelby pushed her damp palms against her jeans. “I’m more worried that Welton and Hartley are going to kidnap another unsuspecting woman, Cade. That’s what has me going. I feel like I can take care of myself where those two are concerned, but what about all the innocent women who live here in Jackson Hole?”
Cade nodded and became somber. “I’m worried about it, too. I don’t have unlimited manpower to devote a couple of deputies to find these two. We talked about strategies yesterday after Welton was spotted
. If I had extra people, we could go to the local banks and grocery stores to look at video to see if we can spot them that way. They have to eat.”
“Let me volunteer for that duty, then,” Dakota said, giving Shelby a glance. “It’s easy enough for me to sit and watch videos to try to spot them.”
“I can deputize you,” Cade said, liking the idea.
“But you’ll have to be interfacing with a lot of people,” Shelby warned, worried about his PTSD symptoms.
Dakota shrugged. “I lived with PTSD symptoms for years out in Afghanistan. I’ll deal with it here.” His eyes locked onto hers. “Your life is on the line. And these two are wolves walking among sheep. Ellie died because they were loose. I don’t ever want another woman caught in her position. Not ever.”
The low growl in his voice convinced her. There was pure hatred in his eyes for the two convicts. She glanced at Cade, who gave him a nod of approval. “If Cade can make it happen, that’s fine with me.” She stood up. “I’m going to get back on the rotation schedule, Cade. I can’t sit up at Dakota’s cabin twiddling my thumbs. I need to be out on the beat.”
“Go get cleaned up and then come back in this afternoon after lunch. I’ll put you back on the duty roster.”
“Welton and Hartley know she works here. Aren’t you worried about that?” Dakota asked.
“Yes, but look, Shelby is a seasoned deputy. She has a cruiser, she knows the lay of the land around here and she’s going to remain alert,” Cade said.
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