Bullet Series Box Set Books 1-8

by Jade C. Jamison

  Oh, God, I loved when Brad looked at me like that. He reached for a towel but kept his eyes trained on mine. “Just so you know, I closed the door to Gracie’s room and both the kids are asleep…”

  I bit my lower lip. Yeah…a little sex might take the edge off. But what I knew… “Did you lock the door?”

  “What door? The front one?”

  “No. The door between our rooms.”

  “No…what if the kids need Gracie?”

  No way was I going to tell him my suspicions yet. Gracie could be eavesdropping, for all I knew, and I had no evidence. Brad would think I’d lost my mind if I told him what I was thinking, and then no one would believe it at all. I’d have a hell of a time convincing them, and then who knew what she could do. I’d seen too many movies in the past where the victim was thought to be crazy and nearly died because no one believed her. No way. I was going to wait to tell him my thoughts. But I wanted that damn door locked right now. If it wasn’t, there’d be no way I’d be able to loosen up enough to enjoy myself. “What if Gracie walked in on us?”

  He paused. Fortunately, his desires turned off a good portion of the rational part of his brain, so what I’d said sounded completely logical…and it almost was. “Good point.” Without another word, he handed me the towel he’d grabbed off the rack and then walked out of the bathroom. I used that time to dry off, patting myself down from head to toe. Only tiny tendrils of hair that hadn’t gone up in the loose bun on my head were damp, so I didn’t need another towel around my head. I grabbed the bottle of lotion I’d set on the counter and began slathering some on my legs when Brad returned and pulled the door closed behind him. “All locked up.” He pushed a little button on the door handle and said, “This one too.” I was glad he did that as well, because we’d had Chris catch us once or twice in the past, and now he was getting old enough that he’d remember what he saw. If he needed us, I knew he’d come looking and knock on the door, but I didn’t want him barging in and catching Brad and me mid-coitus. Who knew what that would do to his delicate mind, seeing his mother in the middle of potentially raunchy sex? His mind wouldn’t register that there was love behind any of it—he’d just remember catching his mother in a compromising situation and divulge it to his therapist over and over as an adult until he could move on with his life.

  Brad moved close to me, pulling his t-shirt over his head as he did. My God, the man was a dream. Even when I’d believed Ethan was my lifelong mate, I couldn’t deny how good looking Brad was. His black hair was the perfect frame for his strong face, and I loved his dark eyes that seemed to know everything, his rock star body. Just looking at my husband got me primed for his touch, and I think he knew that, because he was grinning as he closed the gap and took my face in his hands to kiss me.

  I let the towel drop, pulling him into me. I loved the feel of his warm, dry skin against my own that was still cool and damp. I knew he’d take me from warm to hot in no time at all. I wrapped my arms around him and my fingers danced on the sinew of his back. I could massage that muscle all day long and not grow tired of it.

  His kiss was hot and passionate, reminding me of the fire between us, and my hands tensed and paused as my mouth relished the feel of his tongue inside me, foreshadowing what would happen in mere minutes. Then I slid my hands lower, drifting over the back of his jeans, and cupped his ass in my hands, grinding him into me.

  His erection made me impatient.

  “In a hurry, are we?” he said, teasing, but I knew he felt as desperate as I did. I could make love to Brad the rest of my life and still not feel like I’d had him enough. I nodded and then sucked on his lower lip, letting him know that yes, I wanted him inside me now. But, just as I began moving my hands around to the front of his waistband, he lowered his head, taking one of my breasts into his mouth, flicking the nipple with his tongue, forcing air out of my lungs. It took everything in me to force the moan to stay inside my throat, when all it really wanted to do was sing aloud to him. Only my mother instincts trumped that nearly unstoppable instinct.

  He dropped to his knees and kissed my belly, around in circles in aching slowness, and I wound my fingers into his hair, almost like the reins on a horse…but I knew I had no control over this man—not in the bedroom, at any rate. He was going to please us both when he was damn good and ready and not before.

  As he began kissing back up my belly and rising to his feet, he slid a finger between my legs, stroking my clit until he got the response he was looking for—a loss of control on my part, where all I could do was focus on the sensations he was creating, not just on my body but in my brain. But as his lips connected with mine, I forced myself to think past the pleasure, and my fingers wrapped around the button of his jeans. In seconds, I had my hand inside and wrapped around his cock, enough that I could tell I was breaking his concentration as well.

  Having been a couple for a few years had done something for us—it had given us the ability to read each other well, and we both knew we didn’t want to prolong it anymore. He lifted me up, his firm hands around my waist, and set me on the edge of the bathroom counter, sliding himself inside me in seconds. I clenched against him, relishing the feel of him in me—hot and hard, the friction bringing me close in no time flat. My voice was quiet, but I couldn’t stop the little mmm that formed in my throat, telling him he was right on track.

  The orgasm washed over me quickly, causing me to shudder, my pussy claiming his cock in its grip. The mother in me kept my moans close to silent as I took his shoulder in my mouth to help me control that part of myself. It wasn’t long before he joined me in ecstasy, his pace slowing until we both held onto each other in silence, enjoying the moment of shared communion, feeling like one spirit.

  In the quiet, as I began to stir, dotting his neck with a kiss, I heard something in the other room, and my hackles rose.

  It was my son calling for me. He sounded afraid. Brad heard it too and we both switched from relaxed euphoria to full-on panic in seconds. I picked up the towel off the floor and wrapped it around my midsection in the time it took Brad to pull up his jeans and zip them up. We both ran to the door and into the main room of the hotel.

  It was dark, with just a small lamp shining in one corner. Chris was sitting up on one of the queen beds next to his sister, crying and continuing to call for me, his arms outstretched when he saw us. We both rushed to the bed, but I already felt relieved that no one was in there trying to kidnap my child. I let out a breath of air as I picked him up into my arms and I looked at Brad. He too had an expression on his face that told me he’d been expecting something bad.

  As my heart rate slowed and I marveled that Hayley was still sound asleep, I frowned, knowing that I wouldn’t rest easy until the stalker culprit was either caught or disappeared for good.

  * * *

  The next day we headed to Brad’s mother’s home in another town. She had a big house and Brad had already called her to make sure she could accommodate one more. She’d been planning on us and the kids and even Gracie, but not a bodyguard. No problem, she told her son. The more, the merrier.

  Yes, well, she might say that now, but once she heard about all the stalker BS that had been going on, she might change her mind.

  She didn’t, though. She loved having us all there and having a huge crew to cook for. Brad’s brother rarely visited her and even we were lucky to make it over the slope once a season, but we made the effort. She came to see us a couple of times a year as well, but she had to work around her job as a nurse.

  The biggest part of the problem was Brad’s touring schedule—and now mine as well. Being on the road for months at a time, all we wanted to do with chunks of time off was to go home and take it easy. But I’d always loved Barbara Payne…and her cooking was phenomenal. It reminded me of my own mother’s, except Barbara tended to do some unusual things that made her food even better. She added a lot of fruits and nuts to dishes I wouldn’t even think of adding them to, but it made those foods even b
etter. Ever eat green chili apple pie or cinnamon chili? Yeah, that’s the kind of strange I’m talking about—but good strange.

  Chris already loved the woman he called Gramma Barb. He’d been looking forward to seeing her since we left Beaver Creek. He was happy to see Brad’s father too, but my son didn’t feel as close to him.

  After our first night where we exchanged presents and had another traditional Christmas meal, the next evening—our last before we headed home—Barbara said that her biggest present to us was a night alone. She wanted us to enjoy a romantic evening at a steak and seafood place downtown. She also wanted to have the grandkids all to herself. If she hadn’t said she wanted to have the kids with her, I would have said no and found an excuse. I didn’t want to leave my kids alone with Gracie anymore.

  Barbara, though? I knew she loved those kids as much as—if not more than—her own sons. And I would have trusted her with my own life. So we told Gracie she had the night off and could do whatever she liked.

  The girl couldn’t decide if she wanted to go out or not, so Barbara convinced her to stay and hang with her and the kids. Brad’s mom tended to take people under her wing, and Gracie had that look of innocence sometimes.

  But now I knew better.

  I put on a pair of slacks but Brad asked me to wear a dress instead. I tried to play stupid, but he knew I’d brought along one dress…just in case. Just in case what, I hadn’t known at the time, but I liked being prepared. And Brad knew that about me, so when I tilted my head and tried to feign ignorance, he grinned and squinted his eyes. “I want to see those sexy legs of yours, babe.”

  I laughed. I didn’t want those legs of mine getting cold, and I knew they would be. It was just as cold here as it had been in Beaver Creek, and I complained about it. Brad countered. “What if I make sure the car is warm before you get in?”

  I closed my eyes, slowly shook my head, and let out a sigh. Then I nodded. It was hard telling my husband no when it was something that obviously meant so much to him.

  As I was doing my hair in the bathroom upstairs, I heard Brad and Chuck talking. A few minutes later, Brad walked in. “Hey, Chuck was going to come with us to keep an eye on you, but I asked him to stay here with mom and the kids.”

  For me, that was a no brainer, and having dinner alone with Brad would be my chance to lay it all out to him. I’d debated telling him the last few evenings in bed before we’d drifted to sleep (except for the night before when the kids were with us), ever since I’d had my suspicions, but if he’d gotten all fired up, he would have made a scene in the middle of the night and who knew what else? Alone, though, just the two of us, he’d be able to get over his vehemence and help me come up with a plan of action to watch Gracie and find some evidence so the cops could arrest her. Right now, all I had was my gut feeling. I needed proof.

  So having Chuck stay with my kids was an easy decision. If Gracie had gone out like she’d debated, I wouldn’t have been as concerned (and, in fact, might have been in need of Chuck’s skills), but if she was staying behind with my kids and I still didn’t know her MO, my kids were in more need of a bodyguard than I.

  Besides, I had my knight in leather armor.

  He also happened to be the man of my dreams, and we were going to enjoy a wonderful evening alone together. I could hardly wait.

  Chapter Ten

  IT WAS BEFORE seven when we arrived at the restaurant, but because it was winter, it was dark out. The sky was lighter than usual, though, and I knew that was signaling more snow. It made me wonder if we’d be able to head home the next day according to schedule or if the weather would delay our trip.

  My legs weren’t as cold as I’d thought they would have been, but that was because Brad had kept his promise. I only felt the cool air on them for a few minutes passing from building to car and car to building. We walked inside the toasty restaurant and it didn’t take me long to see that this was probably the most popular place in the whole town. It was packed, and there were even a few people waiting for a table in front of us.

  We stood patiently as the hostess helped the folks before us. Brad squeezed my hand and whispered in my ear. “Thanks for wearing the skirt.”

  I grinned. “You better make it worth my while later.”

  “Oh, I will.” The kids had slept in the same bed with us the night before. I’d made a big deal of us sleeping on Barb’s hideaway couch in the living room next to the Christmas tree. We kept the tree lights on all night and the kids loved watching them while Brad and I took turns telling stories.

  Tonight, though, the kids were going to sleep with Gramma. I hoped we weren’t spoiling them too much on this vacation. I’d find out for certain if they were demanding hellions when we got home. I smiled, thinking about how much those babies meant to me. I was a lucky woman, and I squeezed Brad’s hand back.

  I was going to have to tell him my Gracie theory once we sat down.

  The hostess was ready for us, and we approached her. Brad told her we needed a table for two and she looked down at her chart. I started looking around again, and I could feel the cool breeze coming from the door as more people walked in. I glanced back that way and saw eight or nine people behind us. I hoped that meant that the restaurant served food quickly.

  As I began turning back to the hostess, I thought my gaze passed a pair of eyes I recognized. But before I could register who it was, I realized Brad was asking me a question and I looked at him. “What?”

  “Do you want to wait in the bar or over here?”

  I took a deep breath. “Um, how long will the wait be?”

  “About ten minutes.”

  Longer than that and I might have contemplated another restaurant, but ten minutes was no big deal. I shrugged and then said, “How about the bar?” I didn’t want my teeth chattering thanks to the cool air constantly rushing through the door.

  “Right this way.”

  We started following her, but first I glanced back. I wanted to see the face again. I knew my eyes had spied a friend…or at least someone who reminded me of a friend, and I wanted to put a name to the face.

  Too late, though. The guy was gone—either he went back outside or was a figment of my imagination to begin with.

  Brad and I sat at the bar where the hostess left us, along with a black box that would buzz us when our table was ready. Brad ordered two glasses of red wine and I took a sip before I broached the subject I really needed to address with him. I cleared my throat and leaned in closer. It wasn’t quiet in there and someone would have had to try hard to overhear me, but I still didn’t want to broadcast my conversation. “Honey, have you ever considered that we might actually know the stalker?

  “What do you mean?”

  “Exactly what I said. What if it’s someone we already know…and trust?”

  “Yeah, I got that. But do you realize what you’re saying?”

  “I do.” I took a sip of wine. “Unfortunately, that idea didn’t just occur to me out of the blue.” He raised his eyebrows but said nothing. I took another deep breath and then just blurted it out. “I’m pretty sure Gracie’s my stalker.”

  Brad had a look of shock for a few seconds, and then he started laughing. “You think Gracie is your stalker?”

  “I didn’t say it made sense, and I don’t know why, Brad, but yes. All the signs point to her.” He stifled his guffaws, because he knew I was serious. I only called him by his first name instead of a term of endearment when I wanted him to pay attention or when I was getting irritated, and so he knew I was serious. Once his smile faded, I started first by telling him about the day in Beaver Creek when I’d taken a walk with Chuck and how Gracie had called just when I happened to get a supposed text from my stalker. I explained to Brad that that was what made me suspicious but then, after that, all the pieces just fell into place—and they fit.

  When I was done explaining my case, Brad said, “I dunno, honey. It’s circumstantial. It’d never hold up in court.”

  “No,
not yet. I know. We need hard evidence. And that’s why I’m telling you. I need you to help me find it.” He frowned, still not feeling convinced. Our black box buzzed and a red LED light on it blinked, alerting us to the fact that our table was ready. I took the last sip of my wine and slid off the stool, grabbing my coat and purse. Brad took my hand and we walked back toward the hostess area.

  She smiled, recognizing us. “Let me show you to your table.”

  “Actually, could you point out the ladies’ room to me?” I looked at Brad. “I’ll be there in just a sec.”

  The hostess nodded and pointed me toward the left-hand side of the cavernous restaurant, way past the bar area, and I saw the sign above the doorway. The hostess gave me a general idea of where she’d be seating Brad but also mentioned that she’d be happy to show me there when I returned from the restroom. I handed my coat to Brad and headed over to the restrooms.

  After using the facilities, I washed my hands and then walked into the hallway from the ladies’ room. I looked to the left and saw that it led to other rooms in the restaurant—likely supply rooms, or even an office, and another entrance to the kitchen, so, reoriented, I turned to the right so I could walk back into the restaurant.

  As I took a step, though, I noticed a large body in front of me suddenly in my way. I looked up and saw those eyes again—those steely blue eyes of a friend. My mind registered who he was and I got ready to say something—a surprised greeting—when he slapped his hand over my mouth and shoved me through a door.

  It all happened way too fast. Before I could even figure out what was going on, my brain focused on the pain I felt in my arm. His thick fingers were twisting into the delicate flesh next to my underarm, and I knew it was going to bruise. I wanted to shout, but his other hand was still clamped over my mouth. I wasn’t struggling—yet. I was still too disoriented.