Gray Wolf Security: Wyoming

by Glenna Sinclair

  He spread her legs apart with his knee between hers, rising above her as he moved. She watched, unable to hide the anticipation he drove through her like a hot knife through butter. Something fluttered in her chest when he reached between their bodies, guiding himself to her. She felt the back of his fingers brush against her swollen lips, felt the firmness of his cock head searching for her moist opening. He let her hands go as he braced himself on his own hands, his eyes never leaving hers as he thrust his hips, a gentle thrust that felt much more violent than it really was. She'd been married, had a child, but it had been twelve years since she'd lain with a man. Her body wasn't as accommodating in that first moment as it might have once been.

  She moaned, her eyes sliding closed. He lay still, aware of her discomfort, or maybe overwhelmed by the snugness of her entrance. When she opened her eyes again, he was watching her, so many emotions dancing over his handsome face that her fevered mind could only decipher a few. Need was burning there, but surprise and concern came across easily as well. She ran her hands over his ass, moved her hips a little to show him she was okay now, that she was ready for him now.

  Bodhi thrust again, entering her completely, his cock touching places inside of her she suspected had never been touched before. She relaxed her body, lifted her hips a little, welcomed him with only slight hesitation. His movements were slow, calculated, a rotating, sexy thrust that brought to life nerves she didn't know she had, needs she didn't know she wanted, pleasures she didn't know existed. Her eyes slid closed again despite her desire to continue staring into the depths of his, her control slipping away more and more the longer he lay with her, the more familiar his touch became. She slid her hands over his ass, tugged him closer, her own hips dancing beneath him. Those fireworks were just another movement away, she could sense them deep in her belly, all the way down to her toes.

  Bodhi began to cry out just as she lost it, just as her vision brightened. She pulled him into her, held on as tight as she could, his every movement almost excruciating now. And he wrapped himself around her, rolling onto his side and pulled her with him, his arms hard around her waist, her chest, his hands splayed on her bare back.

  They lay there like that a long time, tangled in one another. It was the warmest, safest, she'd felt in a long time. She'd forgotten how good it could be, lying in complete companionship with another human being. It was one thing cuddling with her daughter, sharing her bed on occasion with the child after a scary movie or a particularly violent thunderstorm. It was another lying tangled in the arms of a lover.

  She ran her hands over his skin, her fingernail scraping his nipple. He kissed her, the lingering hints of brandy and her sex still on the tip of his tongue. She pressed her palm to his jaw, drew him closer.

  "Thank you," she whispered.

  "For what?"

  "For allowing me to do this."

  "Hmm," he said softly. "So, it was just a booty call?" He pulled back slightly, forcing a very dramatic pout. "I feel so used!"

  She laughed, her thumb brushing his bottom lip. "Such an over actor. Don't quite your day job."

  He groaned, pressing his hand to his chest as though he were wounded. "That's a low blow."

  "Sorry."

  He pressed her back against the mattress, kissed her again with just as much passion, just as much need, as before. She responded, molding her body against his. She could feel him, feel his arousal coming back to life. She opened to him, welcomed him back inside of her. It was slower this time, his movements less demanding. He kissed her with long, lingering kisses, his hands exploring the few parts of her body he hadn't already explored to near obsession. She explored him, too, her fingers brushing over the thick scar on his back, wondering what had caused such a terrible mark. She wondered, too, about the dark star on his lower back, low on his hip, the tattoo that was clearly covered up in all his movies. What did it mean to him? What was important enough that he'd permanently marked his body with it?

  She knew so little about this man who knew how to make her feel things she'd thought were no longer hers to feel. She knew his movies, knew his Hollywood persona. She knew the useless facts her daughter found so fascinating about this man, her first fantastical crush. She knew what he wanted the world to know about him, but little else.

  What was he doing here, in small town Wyoming? Why buy a ranch here with all the luxurious properties available to a man of his wealth in other parts of the country? Why a ranch at all? Where was his family? Did he have family? Why was there no Mrs. Archer, no beautiful, model-esque girlfriend following him around? Why was he lying here with her, a tired widow, rather than one of the many, many starlets and aspiring actresses who were probably more than willing to take this spot?

  She wanted to know, but then again...part of her was afraid to know. She didn't want to care about this man. She knew where these sorts of relationships had the potential of going and she didn't want that. She wanted easy. She wanted freedom. She wanted an occasional booty call, nothing more.

  It was safer that way. Less likely to lose anything, less likely to be forced to grieve for something she'd had briefly. And Bodhi... who could be safer in that consideration than a Hollywood actor who would eventually lose interest in small town Wyoming and move back to the rush of his professional life?

  Sutherland closed her eyes and tugged him closer to her, her fingers buried in his flesh. She held on to him like he was a lifeline. And, right now with everything that was going on her world, he kind of was.

  Chapter 19

  Becky

  Lance was awake when I woke, awake and gone. I rolled over, reached for him, but he wasn't there. For a moment, it occurred to me that he might have done what I'd planned to do. Maybe he'd taken off, decided he really wasn't ready to give up his family and the life he had here. But then the motel room door opened and he stepped through, a rush of cold air causing the back of my arms to break out in goosepimples.

  "Sorry," he muttered, dropping a heavy bag on the small table beside the bed.

  I turned, watch him move around the room, admiring the grace of his every movement.

  "Where'd you go?"

  "I went in search of a store with some fresh produce. As much as I enjoyed the tacos yesterday, I need a little fruit in my diet."

  I smiled. "Don't tell me you're a health nut."

  "Not an annoying one, I don't think."

  He shed his jacket and pulled a plastic container of sliced melon from the bag. He carried it over to me, popping the top off and handing it to me with a little plastic fork. I sat up and took a bite of watermelon, moaning softly as the sweetness burst over my tongue.

  "Good, huh?"

  I nodded, spearing another piece with my fork.

  He took another container out and settled on a chair he pulled close to the bed. He propped up his feet and dug in, quiet for a long few moments.

  "I called Hank," he suddenly put out there, the weight of it resting heavy on my shoulders.

  I didn't know what to say. I knew I'd agreed to this plan last night, but it still frightened me in ways I couldn't even begin to express. What if something went wrong? What if we didn’t get out of the country before Kennedy found us? What if he found out the truth about Cassidy and tried to take her from me? I couldn't risk that.

  "He promised to get our things together and meet us at Jonnie's."

  "Jonnie?"

  "We figured it would be better than meeting somewhere or at the ranch."

  I put down the fruit and ran my fingers through my tangled hair, the idea of going even that close to MidKnight frightening me even more. I'd stayed safe all this time by never going back to a place I'd been before. This went against every instinct I'd ever had.

  "I know you're afraid, babe," he said, setting his food aside and reaching for my hands, "but you've got me, you've got Hank, you've got everyone who loves you watching your back. We're going to make this work."

  I nodded, wanting to trust him even though there w
ere this whole series of knots in my stomach. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. They had no idea what Kennedy was capable of. I wasn't sure I wanted to walk them into a situation blind, walk them into a situation where they could all get hurt.

  But I was so tired and I just wanted to hold my daughter.

  We dressed, not really taking, both lost in our own thoughts. When we walked outside and I saw that he'd rented a car, something popped inside my head.

  "He can trace it, Lance, he can find us through that rental agreement!"

  "He'll assume we're going south. By the time he figures out we headed north, we'll be gone."

  "But he's smart! You have no idea..."

  "I covered my tracks, Becks. I asked the rental agent for maps of Colorado, of Texas and New Mexico. When he comes looking for you, that's what she'll tell him."

  "But—"

  "We'll leave the car in Midnight, let Hank dispose of it in a few days. By the time he finds it, we'll be on a plane for the Bahamas or wherever you want to go."

  "He has access to the FBI's databases. He could put out a warrant on it, someone will see it—"

  "You have to trust someone, Becks. Trust me. Trust Hank."

  I shook my head as I stared at the non-descript sedan, as I considered all my possibilities. I could run, I could get on a bus and disappear from both Kennedy and Lance. I could refuse to get in that car and insist we find some other transportation back to Midnight. I could simply refuse to go back to Midnight at all and insist we just keep moving south as we'd intended to do yesterday. I could give up my daughter and run. Again.

  But I didn't want to give up my daughter. I didn't want to run anymore. And Lance's plan, this crazy attempt to get out of the country, was my best option at this point.

  And he was right. I had to trust someone sometime.

  "If this goes sour—"

  "It won't." He came over and pulled me into his arms, hugging me close for a long moment. "Besides, I already traded out the license plates with a car parked five miles from here. I wasn't born yesterday."

  I slapped his arm. "You could have told me that."

  "I just did."

  His eyes sparkled with amusement as he led me to the car and helped me into the passenger seat. I sat back, feeling as though I'd just handed control over everything to this man I'd known less than a month. But when he climbed behind the wheel and smiled at me, a boyish smile that made my chest flutter like a teen with a crush, I knew that no matter what happened next, I would never regret these last few hours with him.

  He reached for my hand and pressed it to his lips before putting the car into gear.

  "This is going to be a good day," he said. "I can feel it."

  Chapter 20

  At the Ranch

  Sutherland hadn't meant to fall asleep in his bed, but with everything going on, she was exhausted. She woke, confused why the ceiling looked so different from her own. She sat up, the memory of the night before coming back in a rush. She had no idea what time it was, but the sun was burning hot through the windows. Bodhi was gone, the room deserted save for the boxes and building supplies stacked neatly against the walls. Her clothes were folded and sitting on top of a low dresser against the wall across from the bed. She got up, her body sore in places it hadn't been sore in a long time, reminding her of the shameful acts she'd participated in quite willingly last night.

  There was no time to deal with the emotional fallout, although she knew it would come eventually. She couldn't break her widowhood inducing celibacy without paying an emotional price. But her cellphone was ringing and she couldn't suppress the desperate need building in her chest to get back to her child, to her friend's emotionally broken child.

  She pressed the phone between ear and shoulder as she struggled to pull her jeans over her hips.

  "What's up, Hank?"

  "I got a call from Lance."

  She stopped cold, afraid to ask if the message was good or bad. It was Lance. That could mean almost anything, but the fact that it wasn't Becky suggested that she was either unable or unwilling to check in. That thought was disturbing.

  "They're in Cheyenne. He released Lincoln to distract that FBI agent when he got too close. But they got to Kaycee and stole a car, drove to Cheyenne and stayed overnight in a motel."

  "She's okay?"

  "She's fine. And she's on her way back to Midnight."

  That was the best news Sutherland could have heard this morning. She closed her eyes, relief rushing through her like a soothing balm.

  "He's convinced her that they should take Cassidy and leave the country, but he wants you to talk to her first. He's hoping you can get her to tell you what's really going on and maybe find a way to help her. He says..."

  "What?"

  "He says she was ready to split, to leave Cassidy behind. He says that that FBI agent is Cassidy's father, but he doesn't know and she thinks she'd be safer here with you rather than on the run with her."

  Sutherland knew what a sacrifice it would be for Becky to leave her daughter. She'd watched them for five years, saw how close they were to one another. She knew how much Becky loved Cassidy and she knew... if she'd ever had to abandon Elizabeth, she knew how devastating that would be.

  But there was this little piece of her that was outraged at the thought. The part of Sutherland who was abandoned herself as an infant held on to the belief that if a parent truly loves their child, they could never walk away from them. There was always another way.

  Maybe she could be Becky's other way.

  "Where?"

  "At Jonnie's house in three hours."

  Sutherland dropped the phone and finished dressing, moving quickly despite the fact that her hands were shaking, her thoughts racing miles ahead. She shoved her phone into her back pocket and rushed out of the room, not so distracted that she didn't notice the many, many construction supplies stacked up along the hallway, the construction already underway behind thick sheets of plastic. She hesitated a moment, remembering the family who once lived in this house, the children who grew up in these rooms that were now missing walls and sporting new windows. It felt like an insult to their memory in a weird sort of way.

  She thought she was going to get out the door without seeing anyone, but the moment she stepped out onto the porch, she found herself face to face with Bodhi Archer himself.

  "Trying to sneak away?" He asked, leaning on the broom he'd been using to sweep up the broken glass he'd tossed when she arrived last night.

  "Don't you have people to do those things for you?"

  He shrugged. "Then I'd have to explain how it happened and that's a personal story."

  She was once again awash with the memory of what they'd done the night before, her body responding to the memory even as her head rebelled against it.

  "Sorry about that," she said as she stepped off the porch, headed for her truck.

  He grabbed her arm, pulling her back in front of him.

  "Don't apologize. That belittles it."

  "I don't know what you think last night was about, but this isn't going to be a thing."

  His eyebrows rose. "That's not what your body was saying last night."

  She blushed and that made her angry. She was not a child. She was not someone who acted impulsively. She was not this woman he was trying to make her out to be.

  "Last night was just me needing a release. It wasn't the beginning of anything."

  "If that was all it was, why come to me? Why not warm the bed of one of the many men in your employ?"

  There was something like amusement in his eyes. But there was something darker, too. She stepped back, a sudden touch of fear burning through her.

  "Why not one of the hottest men in Hollywood if he makes himself available to you? I'd be insane to ignore your invitation."

  He stepped back, turned slightly so she couldn't see his face.

  "Then you should go," he said coldly. "Enjoy your day, Mrs. Knight."

  It was a barb, th
at last little bit, the use of her married name. He was reminding her of her shame, reminding her she had no right to be here.

  She walked away, a new heaviness on her shoulders that she couldn't quite name.

  What did it matter? She knew nothing about him. He knew nothing about her. It was just a hook up, like everyone was doing these days. She heard her stable hands talk, heard the gossip around town about who was with who the night before. She knew these things went on behind closed doors. Why should it be different for her?

  But she knew it was as much as she didn't want to admit it. And she knew she'd hurt him, though she couldn't appreciate how because she didn't know him. And he'd hurt her and he had to know that. So, they were even...

  ...as if that mattered.

  Chapter 21

  Becky

  I'd never been to Jonnie's house. We'd gotten to know each other over the past few months, but we weren't inviting each other to our homes kind of friends. Not yet. I'd hoped we would get there when her relationship with Hank wasn't quite so new, but we wouldn't get that chance now.

  Lance pulled the rental car into the driveway, parking behind Hank's Jeep. I was afraid to get out, unable to move even as Lance came around and opened my door.

  "What if he's in there waiting for us? What if she doesn't want to see me? What if—"

  "The only way to know is to go inside."

  He took my hands and kissed my palms, a warm smile on his full lips. I leaned forward and kissed him, wanting one last embrace before everything fell apart. I just... I knew this couldn't end well. I knew whatever waited for me inside that house wasn't the optimism that Lance was clinging to. Good things didn't happen in my life.