“Is your name really Buck?” She asked after a long while of just being held in his strong arms.
“My name is John Buckingham; my friends call me Duke. I like the name Buck on your lips, though. Why?”
“I want to be sure I’m screaming out the proper name all night, and not some stupid alias,” she said and she released her towel.
Chapter Eight
Buck hesitated, but only for a fleeting second. He stepped back to let the towel fall away from her and see her in the low light of the room. There she stood, and he was as stunned as one of Brent’s cattle on the way to the slaughter house. Joss Erickson was the loveliest woman he’d ever seen.
“You are beautiful,” he murmured and he took her hand and pulled her to the bed with him. He bent to her mouth and began again. As they kissed Joss unbuttoned his soft denim shirt and splayed her hands across his smooth shoulders while he grew better acquainted with the breast he hadn’t held all night. It, too, was perfect in his eyes. He laid her back on the pillows and put his mouth to it and sucked and pulled and lightly nibbled and she quivered under him. Joss made a small desperate sound and he stopped and looked into her half closed eyes.
“Am I hurting your back?” He asked hoarsely.
“What back?” She said pulling his head back to her breast. He grinned and moved down her silken body, taking it all in. Memorizing every curve and crevice of her, he made his way lower, and pushed her knees up and apart and tasted her. They both groaned together at the thrill, and he lifted his head and stared her in the eye, watching her lose focus while he licked her like a cat. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep from climaxing, and he was still mostly dressed.
Joss was still reeling from the kiss he gave her, the man was a marvel. The feel of his lips and teeth on her neck was intense, and when he kissed her breasts a pulse went straight between her legs like an electric current. When he put his mouth there she was lost. There was nothing on the planet but Buck.
He worked his fingers into her silken folds as he stroked her with his tongue and felt her climax once, then again, he was right about the kitten noises he realized abstractedly, they were driving him wild, and he ripped off his pants and he stared into her eyes as he slowly entered her, taking his sweet time, having spent his entire life preparing for this moment. Her scent, her skin, her breasts, they were all overwhelming him and he realized he had wanted her since he saw her dossier on his desk nearly a year ago, she was the reason he took the job.
When he went as far as she could take him, and then a little more, they both gasped at the intensity of the connection. She had been waiting eight years for this man, and it was evident. Buck rocked into her slowly and steadily at first, until he was sure she would accommodate him, finding just the right angle that made her inhale sharply, whispering his name.
“Is it okay, Joss?” He asked, his voice gravelly.
“Yes, Buck, yes,” she panted and he finally quickened, unable to wait a second longer.
He was there on the inside for her final crushing orgasm, where she squeezed her muscles around him so tightly he didn’t have a prayer of hanging on long enough to give her another; it was all he could do to remember to breathe, and even that was ragged. He couldn’t let her go; he clung to her regaining his breath and other senses and wiping her tears from her beautiful face. He couldn’t get enough of her beautiful face.
“Don’t cry, Joss, it’s both of us, now,” he whispered to her as he wiped away the last tear. Joss simply nodded at him unable to speak for a minute as she was too overcome. They stayed that way staring at each other for some time knowing something important had happened.
On his elbows, looking straight down at her he grew hard again inside her and began once more to move within her. “I think we need do that again, my Duchess.”
“And again. That was just the first iced tea,” she said reaching up to lightly touch his beaten face. He laughed and shook his head in amazement.
“I had no idea, Joss, no idea.” This was new for him, he never felt like he wanted to stick around before, and now he didn’t even want to let go of her. He decided to worry about it tomorrow, holding her was simply too sweet.
Joss had her own personal hero, and she loved him. The fact that he was a generous lover only made it that much better. Not a bastard after all.
He rolled onto his back bringing her around on top of him so she wasn’t on her tender wounds and he rocked up into her again and again, cupping her breasts and running his hands down her smooth skin. “Kiss me,” he said and she leaned down to him and put her lips to his neck and ear and finally his mouth as he pulled her tightly to him by her ass. He tasted her mouth as she moved her hips in a circular motion which drove him absolutely wild. He knew he was close again and he carefully placed his thumb on her clitoris and made his own circular motions and Joss cried out his name as she arched back driving him deeper, and he too cried out and sat up, clutching her to him both of them trembling with exquisite release.
At dawn, spent yet still tingling, she slipped into unconsciousness. Buck watched her sleep. He was amazed at the events of the past few hours, how he was so affected by her. He had had sex with beautiful women before, he couldn’t think of a single one who wasn’t beautiful in one way or another, but Joss was somehow completely different, and he didn’t know why. He didn’t really want to think about why, he just needed to be with her and touch her, and hold her, and most of all keep her safe. He’d probably get fired, and surprisingly he was fine with the idea. Joss was his priority now.
He had to sleep, but the need for her was overwhelming. She was sprawled on top of him, her tender back bared, her hair tangling his senses. When it was long it was slightly wavy, but shortened it had become curlier, and he couldn’t decide which he liked better. It still smelled powerfully of her, though, and the scent of it, the scent of Joss made him feel helpless in her thrall.
They had unprotected sex. Several times. He had never had sex without a condom before, and it was heady stuff. He didn’t presume Joss was on the pill, she didn’t have a boyfriend, and he wondered if subconsciously he’d wanted to be bound to her through a child. He thought of his dream, the one of Joss holding his baby to her breast. Their baby. He breathed in deeply and with the rising of his chest she stirred minutely and made a small sound of contentment that went straight to his sex. He curled her hair around his finger.
When he was a child there was someone his Navajo grandmother spoke of whom she believed had been bewitched. She called it being in “A Frenzy Way,” and Buck wondered if that was what Joss had done to him. Joss was influencing his emotions somehow. He had long since stopped believing in black magic, but Joss Erickson had him scratching his head. She had certainly woven a delicate spell over him. He didn’t much want to break it, either.
***
Joss didn’t think her body could ache anymore than it did the morning after the fire in the barn, but it could. Her ache was a pleasure, though. A reminder of the things they’d done, the quantity and intensity of her orgasms, and it stunned her, and she was weak just from thinking about him. He alone knew what he whispered to her in some language she hadn’t recognized. She was powerfully affected by his sweet nothings right before she slept, safe in his warm embrace.
She opened her eyes slowly and saw the daylight that was peeking through the ugliest curtains she’d ever seen. “Buck,” she said and her voice sounded dry and deep. He was not in the small room, nor was he in the bathroom.
She leaned back into the pillows. He had better be out foraging for food; she was going on twenty four hours without it, and they had worked up an appetite, bruises and all. The man was simply incredible; he even put Billy Tomlinson to shame. She smiled at a memory and got up to shower.
When she got back into bed she saw streaks of blood on the sheets and she thought she probably popped a few more stitches, since she wasn’t exactly keeping them supple with the ointment. When she pulled the sheet away she realize
d it was more blood than what would have come from her stitches. It was Buck, he must be bleeding, and she hadn’t even notice, she had been too focused on having the most unbelievable sex of her existence at the hands of a man who was practically bleeding out underneath her, and on top of her and beside her and behind her. Inside her. Her stomach clenched from the butterflies.
Buck came back to the room with coffee and food. When he saw she was awake he smiled.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi yourself,” she countered. “Is this your blood on the sheets? Because it isn’t mine.”
“It’s just a scratch, Duchess.” He sat on the bed next to her and lifted her hand to his mouth. “I brought some food, you must be starved.” He played with an old scar on her palm. “I think I need to recuperate today, and we’ll head out tomorrow. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” he grinned at her.
“What makes you think you’ll get any tonight?” She asked returning his grin. They sat companionably on the bed eating the Danish and drinking the coffee he brought. He leaned against the head board and she leaned against him. His lips found her neck and his teeth nibbled at her earlobe.
“The first time you did that I almost took you there on the table in the kitchen,” she said and he laughed.
“We got here eventually, Duchess, just like you said we would.”
“I need to call Brent,” she said.
“I’m trying to get hold of my partner, when I do I’ll have him tell Brent you’re okay. Is that good enough?”
“No, not really. He’ll worry.”
“I need you to be safe, Joss, and Brent worrying a little bit is a fair price to pay. He probably thinks you’re just off having sex with me.” Joss smiled.
“Let’s not disappoint him,” she said and turned in his embrace.
“What have you done to me?” He asked her later.
“Um, I think we were both pretty involved,” she said.
“You’ve done something witchy to me, Joss,” he kissed her.
“Good, you feel it, too.”
They slept; the coffee growing cold on the credenza.
The next morning she woke again to an empty room and reluctantly washed Buck off of her. They managed some sleep, not a tremendous amount, though. They talked well into the night about books, music and movies, and found they had a lot in common. They laughed and touched and tasted and slept and woke and started again. This was their honeymoon, for lack of a better word; she knew they’d never get another chance.
Joss didn’t know what Buck’s plan was, but she wasn’t going anywhere in this towel, she though as she tossed it on the bed and climbed beneath the sheets.
A car screeched to a stop outside the motel room and she stood up and wrapped the towel around her and went to the window. As she pulled the ugly curtain away the door burst open, falling straight down into the room, completely off its hinges. She instinctively stepped behind the curtain in the darkened room and hoped for the best.
“Police!” One of them yelled into the room. Didn’t police knock anymore? She wondered, and almost stepped out from behind the curtain, when the other one spoke.
“No one’s here. Lanier’s gonna be pissed,” he said.
“There’s blood on the sheets, you think she was a virgin?” The first one said and she could hear the sneer in his voice.
“No, I think I winged him when he left the house,” the second one said. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Wait a second, what if they’re coming back? Maybe we should just wait for them,” the first one said.
“The door is on the floor, genius, they’re not going to waltz in here, Buck’s an asshole, but he’s not an idiot. Anyway, there’s nothing here, they’re long gone,” he said, and they walked out of the open door, and got into their car and drove away.
Joss couldn’t move, she stayed there for what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes, barely breathing. Finally the curtain shot back and she inhaled sharply but saw she was looking up into Buck’s anxious face and fell into his arms with a throaty sob of relief. He held her tightly, pulling her close.
“I thought they killed you, it didn’t make sense, but there it is,” he said into her hair. “I saw them come out without you and I thought you were lying in here dead.” He still held her tight. “Christ, how’d it take Brent this long to have a heart attack? You keep stopping my heart every day.” He pulled away from her and she saw his eyes were shiny, and his face badly bruised. She clung to him breathing in his scent and hers. Everything would be fine if she could just hold on to him.
He handed her a bag. “Come on, baby, get dressed, and let’s get out of here.”
“What did you do, raid Daisy Duke’s closet?” She asked when she looked at the clothes. He chuckled.
“I expect you’ll fill those out nicely, and we have a long day ahead of us,” he said and she dropped the towel and closed the bathroom door. Five minutes later she was dressed in very short denim cutoffs, and a leather bustier with a lot of midriff showing. “You look good enough to eat, Duchess.”
“You’ve clearly got a thing for bustiers and thongs.”
“I’ve just got a thing for you, Duchess,” he said lifting her hand to his mouth.
“I look like an unholy cross between Madonna and Easy Rider,” she said. He laughed again.
“Good, that’s exactly the effect I was going for. Right now, you’re a biker chick, and I’m the lucky bastard you hold on to. Come on,” he took her hand and they left the motel room.
They walked a block and a half over where there was a crowd of bikers waiting for them in the parking lot of a vacant building. They greeted him in a language she recognized from his sweet nothings, and she realized they were all Native Americans. They were blending in. Well, she wasn’t, she towered over everyone but Buck, and she was lily white, but Buck was blending in nicely.
One of the men said something to Buck and the other nine of them turned and focused on her, their eyes suspicious. Joss straightened her spine and returned their stares. Buck said something equally terse and the man she decided must be the leader nodded his head and soon the rest of them were nodding, too. Joss locked eyes with the leader and he said something to Buck, making two or three in the back laugh. The leader stopped the laughter with a single look.
Buck pulled her to face him. “Be brave, Duchess,” he whispered and he unzipped her bustier with deft hands. She let him. He pulled it open and drew her to his chest and lifted the bustier from her back to show them the three claw marks emblazoned there. The crowd behind her hummed with interest.
The leader got up off his bike and came right up to her back. Joss felt his fingers run lightly over the claw marks and she hissed through her teeth. The man said something to Buck and much of the tension drained from his body, but not all of it. Joss had been watching Buck’s face, holding handfuls of the back of his shirt in her fists, and once he was no longer rigid she let them go.
A second person had approached them and Joss flinched slightly as more hands touched her back. She felt a cool wetness as the person put some ointment on her claw marks. The effect was immediate, there was instant painlessness, and she almost collapsed with the relief, but Buck was holding tightly to her. Joss hadn’t realized how much pain she had been enduring, too much was going on. The woman, it sounded like a woman, began to hum behind her, and then placed something over the ointment; she thought maybe a bandage of sorts. The humming stopped and the woman walked away. Buck, his face impossible to read, brought her bustier to her back again and began to zip her back up.
“You are the bravest person I know, Duchess,” he said quietly finishing up by positioning her breasts lovingly within. She watched his poor beaten face as he took care of her. She didn’t think this tender care had anything to do with the bikers around them; instead he was apologizing for putting her through that. He was also enjoying himself with his hands on her breasts, which he was now completely familiar with. He brushed
his lips on hers.
“It’s easy to be brave when I’m in your arms,” she smiled weakly at him. “I also have no idea what you were saying.”
“That’s probably for the best.” His mouth pinched slightly and he looked over her shoulder at someone.
“What language is it?”
“Navajo.”
“How do you say thank you?”
“Ahéhee.”
Joss repeated it and Buck’s mouth curled up. “Close enough,” he said.
Joss walked over to the woman who had put the salve on her back and waited to be acknowledged. Somewhere in her somewhat dubious knowledge of the Navajo she knew it was proper etiquette to wait to be noticed, but at the last minute she thought that might only be at dwellings. Oh well, here she was. The woman smiled at Joss and she figured that was good enough.
“Ahéhee,” Joss said and bowed her head slightly. The woman laughed musically, not unkindly, although Joss’s thank you didn’t sound much like what Buck had said.
“No problem, Bear’s Mistress,” she said and went back to packing her belongings away. Joss went back to Buck and he took her hand and led her to a black Harley that was off to the side.
“Bear’s Mistress?” She said and he smiled at her warmly.
“Indeed. You are marked, Duchess, no way around that. This is probably a mistake but I can’t help myself,” he said and pulled her into his embrace and kissed her soundly on the mouth. He couldn’t very well touch her back, so he grasped her ass in both his hands. Joss cupped the back of his head and kissed him back feeling the inevitable desire snake its way through her to her groin. Buck released her with a growl and nodded to the bike. “Ready?” She nodded. Buck sat in front and leaned forward and she climbed on behind him using his broad shoulders to balance.
“Where’d you get the bike?” She asked quietly.
“Storage, this is my bike,” he said turning to her and grinning.
“Nice bike,” she grinned back at him. “What on earth did you tell them?”
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