Tamara’s eyes began to fill as she looked at the very full bag of clothes—many of which looked like they’d never even been worn. “This is too much.”
“Stop!” Carly said. “Reaper’s been on my back to thin out my side of the closet forever. I just needed a really good excuse to get my butt in gear.”
“Thank you,” Tamara whispered.
Jamie cleared her throat then handed over her bag. “Since no one wants someone else’s panties, I stopped at the store. Just plain cotton, but a variety of pretty colors. I’m sure they’ll fit. Also, I added sweaters and a coat for when it gets colder. As well, Quincy checked out your shoe size. We weren’t a match, so I bought you a pair of runners and a pair of short boots.”
Tamara shook her head. “I’ll pay you back.”
“No, you won’t,” Jamie said. “But you can accept my offer.” When Tamara frowned, Jamie grinned. “My office manager could use some extra help with filing and cold calls. Would you consider working for us?”
“But I’m a beautician…”
“And I’m sure Lacey could use some expert help with her blogging and videos…”
Lacey nodded, grinning. “And trims,” she said, fluffing her pretty blonde locks.
“I don’t know what to say.”
Carly pushed her glass into her hand. “Say, yes!”
The women raised their glasses then looked expectantly at Tamara. How could she say no when they’d given her hundreds of dollars’ worth of clothing and toiletries and appeared to care so much? They’d let her inside their little circle. “Yes!”
Chapter 9
One week later, Quincy found himself in a very strange situation. He was on stakeout duty, watching the house of one Lloyd Presser who’d failed to show up for his trial for distribution of drugs. Lloyd was an ex-security guard who’d made side money selling meth and grass to high schoolers during sports events. A small-time crook. The bounty wasn’t big, but after spending four days away on a bigger hunt, he was glad to have something that should be a quick slam-dunk, watching the mother’s house, which was a tip Tamara had gotten straight from Lloyd’s mother’s mouth.
Apparently, Tamara had proven to be a natural at charming information from the friends and relatives of skips. As a reward, and since Brian “felt bad” about how much time Quincy had spent away from home this week, he’d given Tamara the day off so she could “rest up” before the stakeout.
Quincy didn’t care whether Brian was giving him a gift of her company or simply training up a new resource. With his pants open and Tamara’s head bent over his lap, he had enough to worry about, what with watching Lloyd’s house for any sign of him arriving for dinner with Mom and keeping an eye on his surroundings in case another hunter thought it would be funny to sneak up on them while they were taking advantage of their time together. Not that this had been his idea.
No, he’d been set on teaching Tamara how to use the binoculars, and the many “rules of engagement”—the main point she needed to remember was that she should never to engage with a skip like she had with Tommy Walton. If shit went down, he would handle it.
She’d nodded and smiled, acting as though every word he uttered was the purest gold, all the while fondling his balls. She hadn’t been the least shy unbuckling his belt while she’d described her week working in the office with Brian. And her chatter never stopped as she’d unzipped his jeans while catching him up on what was happening with her insurance payout—which was still awaiting approval because the arson investigator and the cops had yet to close their case against Pug McPherson.
When she’d licked her palm and calmly began stroking his dick, she’d been talking about the paint she’d chosen for the kitchen. She’d decided the house décor should be “industrial farmhouse”, whatever the fuck that was, and that she’d chosen the perfect pale gray for the beadboard. Something that “popped” against the white she’d already used on the upper half of the walls and ceiling of the kitchen.
Quincy regretted he couldn’t give her appreciative noises for her efforts regarding everything she’d done to spruce up his old house. He was too busy groaning over the movement of her mouth and tongue along the sides of his cock. At the moment, she was drawing hard on his cock, making his toes curl inside his boots, while she gently massaged his balls.
Nope, he’d never been on a stakeout quite like this one, but he fervently hoped he’d have a hundred more of them.
At least, her mouth was occupied now, because he was afraid there would be a written test when she was through, and he was pretty sure his mind had blanked out during most of her monologue.
Again, she dove down his cock, letting it hit the back her throat. On the upward pull as she drew, she also managed to somehow flutter her tongue against his shaft. When only the head was still in her mouth, she chewed on it, her teeth lovingly scraping over him.
“Baby,” he said, pulling on her hair. “I’m gonna blow.”
She murmured and quickly sank again, giving his balls another tug, this one a little harder while she sucked hard around him.
His toes pressed against his boots, and his thighs tensed. When she let go of his balls, he gave a little yelp and exploded, his come splashing against the back of her throat—which she swallowed, the motion giving him a sexy caress.
When she sat up, she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and grinned. “You owe me.”
“Anything you want. You got it.” Then he pulled her toward him and kissed her, tasting himself on her tongue and lips. When he ended the kiss, he pressed his forehead against hers. “That was incredible.”
“Just making sure you remember I’ve got mad skills, baby.”
Lights flashed as a car pulled into the driveway of Lloyd’s mother’s house.
“Showtime,” he said and raised his phone to call Hook, who’d staked out Lloyd’s favorite hangout. “Hey, he just got here.”
“Be there in five,” Hook said.
“Now what?” Tamara asked.
“You stay here,” he said as he opened his door and quietly closed it behind him. He moved to the back of his vehicle and began to gear up.
Footsteps crunched on gravel, and he gave Tamara a glare as she moved beside him.
“You have to wear all that?”
He patted his vest. “Kevlar, in case someone decides to take a potshot.”
“Lloyd, you mean?”
“I’ve had overprotective grannies come at me.”
He clipped on his web belt, which held his flashlight, ammo pouches, and his badge. Then he strapped on his holster and shoved his Sig Sauer into it.
“When are you taking me to the firing range?”
“Soon,” he said. “You’ll need to know how to protect yourself once you open your new shop.”
“What if I don’t want to open a new shop? Jamie said she’d train me to be a hunter. Said I had great soft skills.”
Quincy reminded himself to have another talk with Jamie. He didn’t like the idea of his woman putting herself out there where she might be hurt. Now, if she wanted to stick to the phones, he’d be fine with that, but doing what he was about to do? No way in hell. A hundred things could go wrong. He’d have a heart attack before he hit forty worrying about her.
Next, he tucked an earpiece in his ear. When she stared at the box of earpieces, he handed her an extra one, turned it over to show her the tiny ON switch, then held back her hair and placed it in her ear. “Can you hear me?” he whispered.
“Wow,” she said. “You don’t mind me listening in?”
“Just don’t talk, because you’ll distract us.”
The sound of footsteps moving quickly came from the front of the vehicle. Quincy quickly closed the back door and strode around to greet Hook, who pointed at his ear. “Comms are good.” Then he smiled at Tamara. “What he said.”
Quincy grinned. “Let’s go.”
Tamara sat on the hood of the Expedition, listening as the guys whispered back and forth,
calling out their positions as they circled the house to check the doors and windows.
“He’s in the dining room with his mother,” Quincy said softly. “They just sat down to eat.”
“I’ll stay at the back door,” Hook said.
“I’m heading to the front,” Quincy said.
She could hear their footsteps, their breaths. A cat yowled, and Hook cussed under his breath. “Did not mean to step on him.”
Tamara realized she was biting her fingernails and drew her fingers away from her face. She’d ruined the manicure she’d given herself with the pretty pink gel polish Lacey had given her.
She couldn’t stand the waiting. She had to get closer.
Slipping off the hood, she moved stealthily toward the house, ducking behind a tree in the yard so she’d have a good view of the front door.
“You ready?” Quincy asked.
“Ready,” said Hook.
“Three, two, one!” He raised his fist, pounded on the front door, and shouted, “Fugitive Recovery Agents! Lloyd Presser, open the door!”
She winced at his volume but ducked down as she waited. Her position gave her a view of the side of the house, and she saw a window slide upwards, and then a man launched himself headfirst out of the house to land cursing on the ground. Then he was up and moved quickly into the trees beside the house.
“He went out the window to the left. Your left, Quincy,” Tamara whispered. “He’s in the trees.”
“Get your ass back to the vehicle.”
She watched as he ran to the side of the house and disappeared into the trees. She listened as Hook crashed into the underbrush. “Right behind you.”
Since she couldn’t see what was happening anyway, she figured she could head to the vehicle. He’d thank her later for her sharp eyes.
Back at the vehicle, she climbed back into the passenger seat, again biting her fingernails. Hell, she didn’t care. She’d cut them short and buff them. The polish didn’t taste very good anyway.
Suddenly, the driver’s side door flew open. The man she recognized from the photo in his file as Lloyd Presser leaned in and shouted, “Get the fuck out.”
She heard more cussing in her ear, more than one voice.
Anger shot through her. “Like hell. This is my boyfriend’s truck!”
“Goddammit, babe. Run!”
Lloyd slid inside and reached for the ignition, but she laughed. “He’s got his key fob in his pocket, asshole.”
He glanced toward the back of the vehicle, and she remembered the stash of weapons Quincy kept there. No way in hell could she let him get one. She couldn’t run now.
When he exited the SUV and darted toward the back of the vehicle, she scrambled over the console, slammed the door, and hit the locks. That should do it.
However, Lloyd only seemed to get angrier. She watched in horror as he hurried toward the brush beside the road, felt around with his hands, then returned with a large rock. Lifting it, he pounded it against the back windshield, which had only just been replaced two days earlier. Quincy was going to have a conniption.
But there wasn’t anything she could do. He pounded and pounded, shattering the safety glass until it bent inwards, then finally gave. Dropping the rock, he used both hands to push against the glass, breaking through it, and then reached inside toward the weapons Quincy had stored.
Tamara knew he’d use one against the guys, and she was the only person standing between Lloyd and his goal. She flew between the seats and reached back, slapping his hands and head.
Lloyd roared and leaned in to backhand her, clipping her shoulder, but she stood on the back seat and reached for his hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling with all her might.
“Fucking bitch, get off me!” he shouted.
Then he jerked backwards, leaving her with wads of his hair in her hands.
Quincy and Hook were there, giving him body punches until he went to his knees and they cuffed him. Then Quincy strode around the side of the vehicle and flung open the door. He reached inside and dragged her out by the waist. “What fucking part of ‘run’ did you not understand,” he shouted in her face.
Tamara blinked, and then cursed inwardly as tears filled her eyes.
He gave her a little shake then let her go, backing up a step and dragging in deep breaths.
“I’ll put him in my truck,” Hook said.
“Good,” Quincy said, his voice taut, anger making his body shake.
She watched his hands fist at his sides then slowly uncurl. “I’m sorry. He was going for your weapons. I couldn’t let him get one to use against you.”
“You scared the fuck out of me.”
“I know. But I also knew you were on the way—that so long as he didn’t get a gun, you’d handle it.”
“He could have hurt you,” he whispered fiercely.
She thought better of mentioning he’d hit her shoulder. She’d save that little detail for later. Instead, she walked toward him, ignoring the fact he stiffened as she encircled his waist with her arms. When she leaned against his chest, his head fell back, and he drew a deep breath.
Then his mouth slammed down on hers.
The kiss was punishing, but she knew he held back his violence. His body quivered with it, so she smoothed her hands on his neck, hair, and cheeks. When he gripped her ass and jerked her upwards, she wrapped her legs around his hips, web belt and all, while he turned and slammed her against his SUV.
He cock was hardening, grinding against her.
She made a mewing sound, and his lips softened. When he drew back from the kiss, he framed her face in his hands. “Dammit, Tamara, don’t do that again. I can’t stand the thought of losing you. I love you.”
Joy washed over her, and again, tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “I love you, too. It’s why I couldn’t—”
He kissed her again. This time not quite as hard, but maybe that was because something else was definitely harder.
“I’ve got him loaded,” Hook said. “Sounds like you’re gonna be busy for a while. I’ll get him to the detention center.”
Quincy broke the kiss long enough to say, “Thanks, man,” then kissed her again.
They didn’t make it home before they had to give into the fire racing through their bodies. As before, Quincy parked the SUV, this time on a logging road just off the highway, and now Tamara straddled him, completely nude, because he’d wanted to touch her everywhere to ensure she was okay. The wince she’d tried to hide when he’d roamed his hands over her shoulder had had him muttering curses, but Tamara had poo-pooed his concern, distracting him with a quick succession of bounces that made her tits jiggle.
Yeah, he was shallow. His gaze snagged on her tits, and he moved his hands just below them, not wanting to interfere with the show. “That your secret weapon?” he asked, when he could get his tongue unglued from the roof of his mouth.
She bounced faster, and her boobs jiggled so hard he worried she’d hurt herself, so he moved his hands upward to cup them, giving them a squeeze and rolling them around and around, his fingers palpitating her soft skin then plucking at the tips.
When he gave her a hard twist, her pussy clenched, and he closed his eyes.
“That’s my secret weapon,” she whispered.
When he glanced up at her face, she was smirking. “My tits are just the honey to lure you to my trap,” she said, swirling her hips around and around.
Her walls dragged his shaft around, and her pussy lips were flush around the base. “Think we should add mirrors to the bedroom,” he said. “Lots of them. I want to see you from every angle when we fuck.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Then you’ll see all my sex faces and watch my ass jiggle.”
“Damn, baby, don’t you know I love that? It’s what my eyes are glued on every time we do it doggie style.”
“Won’t be so cute when I get old and fat.”
“Beg to differ. You’re not a man. You have no idea how much we like a soft, jiggly
ass.”
She laughed and shook her head. “I’ll think about mirrors. I’m going to love watching your ass while you fuck me, but it won’t be jiggles getting me excited.”
“Might be, if I get fat with you.”
They both grinned, and Quincy decided it was time to end this. He wanted her home, in their bed. He was very inspired to fuck her every which way he could think of. “Glad you got a nap today.”
“Am I gonna need it?” she asked, raising a brow.
“Damn right, you will.” Then he moved his feet closer to his seat and raised his hips and her. Then holding her hips to that height, he lowered his and began pounding upward, giving her quick, shallow pops that got her juicy and hot.
She reached over her head to press against the ceiling, the arch in her back pushing out her chest. While he fucked her from below, her boobs jiggled hard again, and he was lost, gritting his teeth as he hammered into her, trying to hold on just long enough—
Tamara screamed and stiffened, her pussy clasping and releasing as the waves of her orgasm swept through her inner walls. Quincy grunted as his own release exploded. Come shot in thick streams, leaving his cock and her walls bathed in liquid content.
They both froze. Her eyes widened. His gaze locked on her face as he gave her one deliberately long stroke, making sure she knew that he’d known all along…
Chapter 10
Everything changed after the night Lloyd was taken down. Tamara couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something in her budding relationship with Quincy felt…different. While she’d always been hyperaware of him whenever he was around, now she felt breathlessly expectant—not that she was waiting for a ring, or anything—but because she was living in the moment, storing up every one of his touches and words and holding them close like they were precious.
He seemed more aware of her as well. When he wasn’t right there to tape a cornice or roll paint on a wall, his gaze followed her everywhere. When they were in bed, after they’d made love, he continued to hold her, watching his hand smooth over her skin, plumping a breast, or combing his fingers through her hair. Always touching. Like he, too, felt like their time together was something to be treasured, that perhaps, she was becoming the center of his world.
Quincy: A Montana Bounty Hunters Story Page 7