Wanted: An Outlaw Anthology

by Lane Hart

  Rising emotions battered at the thin barrier of my control. I shoved them away, forcing them back down where they belonged—out of sight, and out of mind.

  “Why wouldn’t I have a family, Kira?” My jaw was tight, and my words felt forced, but I kept my shit together. “Because I’m a murderer?”

  “No.” Her eyes finally snapped to mine. “Because you’re so fucking full of yourself, I figured you were an only child.”

  She was lightening the mood, making a joke, but I didn’t feel like laughing. Still, I couldn’t help the twitch of my lips that slowly turned into a smile.

  Kira smiled back. Not a wild grin or sarcastic sneer, but a pretty tilt of her lips. It was soft and alluring, maybe even forgiving, and it set my blood on fire.

  “Definitely not an only child,” I replied with a chuckle, but the sound caught in my throat when I tried to shrug out of my jacket.

  An agonizing burn engulfed my shoulder, cramping my arm and erasing my smile. With a pained grunt, I let the most expensive piece of clothing I’d ever owned fall in a ruined heap to the floor.

  “Oh, fuck.” Kira’s smile was lost as well, replaced by a concerned frown.

  A dark stain of blood marked my white sleeve. “No big deal,” I assured her. “I think it’s stopped bleeding. It’ll be fine once I clean it up.”

  “That’s going to be a bitch to peel off. It looks like it’s stuck on good.”

  Her assessment was spot on. It would hurt. But it wouldn’t be the first time. “Guess it’s a good thing I know where she keeps the liquor.”

  “God, yes,” Kira groaned, and despite the excruciating ache of my arm, the rest of my body rejoiced at the sound. “A drink sounds like a fabulous idea. Point me in the right direction.”

  “Cabinet over the fridge,” I grunted. “Don’t know where the glasses are, I never bother with one, but you’re resourceful, I’m sure you can figure it out. I’ll be in the bathroom, down the hall. Bring the bottle,” I instructed, leaving her to fend for herself.

  I needed to get away from her. Far away from her messy hair, tight body, and irresistible voice. I needed to rip this wound back open, so I could distract myself with the pain.

  But the shirt came off easier than predicted, with barely a trickle of blood.

  “I couldn’t find glasses, just coffee mugs.” Kira rounded the corner, a bottle of Jack in her hands. She stopped short, staring at the fresh drip of red on my shoulder, with her mouth hanging open.

  Examining her fazed expression through the mirror, I prompted, “All I need’s the alcohol.”

  She didn’t respond. Her feet were glued in the doorway, hands clutching hard at the booze.

  “It’s not bad,” I reassured.

  But she was still frozen, eyes wide, and breath short.

  “Come on, kitten,” I teased. “Don’t tell me that an ass-kicker like you is afraid of a little blood?”

  “I’m not afraid. I’m… It bothers me.”

  “Then you might want to turn around while I tape it back up.” I pulled a first-aid kit from under the sink. One of the many pros of my sister being a nurse; she kept supplies in practically every room.

  “No.” She cracked the seal on the bottle. “I just need a shot of this and I’ll be good.”

  Her eyes closed as she swallowed far more than a single shot, or even two. She sucked the whisky back like it was water, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand when she was done.

  “Besides,” she continued, unaffected. “You’re going to need help.”

  “I got this, you don’t have to.”

  “Yes, I do.” She held out the bottle, her face a serious mask. “You took that bullet saving me.”

  The whisky burned as I gulped it down, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the sting of her words. “I wasn’t there for you that night, Kira. Saving you wasn’t intentional, it was luck.”

  “I know,” she sighed, pushing up beside me so she could rummage through the medical supplies. “But you still did it. Tonight, too.”

  “Tonight? Hell, tonight I wanted to save my own ass. You were just along for the ride.”

  She didn’t answer, she simply shook her bowed head as she placed items from the kit on the counter. With a deep, sharp breath, she turned to inspect my arm.

  After cleaning up the excess blood, the damage wasn’t as bad as I’d first thought, and the whisky had already helped dull the pain.

  Kira cut strips of the tape, holding them out as I patched myself up. We worked in tandem, in silence.

  The weight of those unspoken words seemed to hang heavily in the air between us. We were morose. Our banter dead. And I couldn’t help feeling like I’d been the one who’d killed it.

  “Listen, Kira…”

  “I’m sorry,” she blurted. “Not for being harsh about what you do, because honestly, I still don’t know if I can wrap my head around it.” She paused, sliding the last piece of tape over my arm herself. For the first time, her touch was gentle. “There’s a reason I don’t trust you, Bodhi, but ultimately, that reason’s got nothing to do with you. So, I’m sorry.”

  Her hand trailed down my arm, dropping away, but I caught it before she could turn. Her breath hitched as I pulled her closer. Taking her hand in both my own, I raised it up to my chest, resting it over my heart.

  “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. When I said you don’t know me… well, that’s simply a fact. But that also means you’ve got no reason to trust me. So, I get it.”

  Her eyes moved up to mine, searching.

  I stared back silently, allowing her assessment, hoping she could see me. All of me. Maybe she could find something more in me than I’d been able to see in myself.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Kira,” I promised. “I only want to help. No strings attached. I want to earn your trust.”

  “Why?” she breathed, her fingers tensing on my chest, clutching.

  “Because you’re strong and beautiful. Plus, you can totally kick my ass.” I smirked. “And because I want to prove you wrong.”

  “Why does that not surprise me? You really are cocky.” She smiled, swaying closer as she moved her free hand up to join her other.

  Her palms pressed flat against my flesh. My heart pounded a strong and steady beat beneath them. I stroked my thumbs down her wrists, where I could feel her wild pulse join with mine.

  For a moment, it felt like we were connected. Like she was holding my heart in her hands.

  “I’m not like him,” I insisted, softly. “I’m not like any of them.”

  “I believe you.”

  “That’s a lie. But it’s okay, you don’t have to believe it.” My fingers slid up her arms to her elbows, holding her lightly. “Not yet. But we’ll get there, Kira, I promise you. We’ll do this together, okay? We’re going to find your sister.”

  “Why would you want to do anything for me? I’m the reason you’re in this mess, and I’ve treated you like shit.” Her gaze fell to her hands, still pressed tight to my skin.

  “Kira…” With a finger under her chin, I guided her eyes back to mine. “The Russians are the reason we’re both in this mess. You’ve been protecting yourself, that’s just smart. You’ve outsmarted me, anyway.”

  “You? You’ve been smooth through this whole thing.” The crease across her forehead melted as she relaxed. “Well, other than when you tackled me. That shit was pretty fucking stupid.”

  She smiled again, and it lit her whole face. I wondered if she could feel the way it made my heart race.

  “Yeah, not my finest moment,” I admitted. “But I was reacting to the situation. I’m a tactical thinker, and you’re all impulse… you threw me off my game.”

  “Well, normally, you’ve got good game.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “A compliment?”

  “Don’t get used to it. I’m not going to be a pushover just because I bandaged your boo-boo.”

  Now I couldn’t help but laugh. “Good. I like you when you’re
feisty.”

  “Do you now?” she purred. Her voice was seductive, beckoning me to give in. To let go.

  My body listened. Desire coursed through me. The willpower that I’d barely pieced back together burst apart.

  “You’re stunning when you’re ferocious and wild. Deadly,” I murmured.

  “I’m not feeling too deadly right now, Bodhi. I don’t know if I’ve got what it takes.”

  My arms laced around her, pulling her even closer, holding her in a secure embrace. “That’s okay. I know what you’re hiding under this soft composure. You’re a fighter, Kira. Even now, when you’re doubting. And you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Her head fell forward to my chest. “Bodhi?”

  “Yes?” My pulse beat frantic.

  “I hate to admit it, but you were right.”

  “About what, kitten?” I hummed.

  She raised her head again, her searing golden gaze finding mine. “About the sex. Back when we were in Bowen’s office, I was thinking about it.” Her hands roved over me, sliding over my shoulders and clasping the back of my neck. “I’m thinking about it now, too.”

  “See?” I grunted, trying hard to keep my cool. “I told you you’d change your mind. I’m already keeping promises.”

  “Don’t gloat, it’s really unattractive.”

  Her fingers dug into the back of my head, spurring me on.

  “Can I kiss you now, Kira?”

  “You’d fucking better.”

  Kira

  I was buzzed from the whisky. It coursed a warm and eager trail through my system, loosening my limbs and my inhibitions, but it was the thought of kissing Bodhi again that had my body humming in anticipation.

  Bodhi’s head bent low, his mouth closing in just as slow as the first time. His face was serious. His hold was hard. But when his lips finally graced mine, they were a whisper.

  We lingered softly for a moment, our mouths barely brushing, our breath a warm tangle. And despite being sweet, it was electrifying. Seductive. Sensational.

  This man—a man who killed for a living—had called me wild and deadly. That seemed absurd when I was so desperate, but God, when he kissed me, I felt it. From the soles of my feet to the ends of my hair, I felt it.

  Wild.

  Deadly.

  It scared the fuck out of me.

  Because I liked that feeling—the mayhem and the madness. I craved it. Fuck, I’d become it. It didn’t feel like I was fighting hard enough without it.

  I pulled out of the kiss, his lips ghosting over my jaw as I turned away, my hands falling back to his chest.

  “What’s wrong?” His breath was a warm thrill against my ear.

  Clinging to his broad shoulders, I swallowed back the fear. “You’re right, I’m impulsive. I always have been. I act first and then deal with the consequences after. But this…”

  “You’re worried you’re going to regret it? Regret me.”

  “No, Bodhi, I’m worried that I won’t.”

  A low growl vibrated up from his chest as his teeth grazed my ear, and his hand wound into my hair, tangling as he gently pulled. It was an erotic sensation that sent shivers racing down my spine and soaked my panties.

  My need intensified as his lips trailed over the side of my neck and under my jaw. I squirmed, my breath shallow and hot when he bent his head even lower and dragged his tongue over one side of my collar bone, up my neck, all the way back to my ear.

  “What’s it going to be, kitten? A professional agreement or fighting and fucking?”

  My pulse spiked as I ran my hands over his tanned skin, savoring each hard line and defined groove. “Should you really make a professional agreement with an amateur?”

  “Fighting and fucking it is, then.”

  His mouth crashed to mine with conviction. Hard and compelling. His lips devoured. His tongue ravaged. The hand in my hair pulled hard as he took possession of our kiss.

  His injured arm wrapped firm around my waist. With a grunt, he lifted me. Sliding my dress-covered ass over the granite, he disrupted our kiss and sent the medical supplies tumbling into the sink and onto the floor. The whiskey bottle was sent rolling as well.

  “Shit!” I caught it before it could hit the floor.

  A lust-tinted smirk graced his lips. “Those reflexes aren’t amateur,” he murmured sliding his hands up my exposed legs.

  Leaning over, I set the bottle out of reach, aware of how my dressed pulled, revealing even more skin, and the hilt of my knife.

  Bodhi’s hand moved toward it, stopping to run a finger, just below. “Did you want to keep hold of this?” His hooded eyes studied mine. “Since you don’t like guns?”

  My hand trembled with anxious need as I unbuckled the leather strap.

  This weapon was important to me. It was true, I hated guns, but that wasn’t why I chose the knife. It was much more than a simple line of defense. This knife had saved my grandmother’s life the night her husband was murdered. It was the same one she’d taught me to use after my father died and grown men had started taking interest in me. Those lessons had kept me alive the night my sister went missing. This knife was irreplaceable.

  I laid it in Bodhi’s hands, trusting him with my most prized possession. “Save it for when we get back to the fighting.”

  Reaching behind me, he placed my heirloom on a shelf, out of harm’s way and away from doing harm.

  “Guess that just leaves the fucking.”

  He produced a condom, I had no idea from where, and in the moment, I didn’t care. I watched with greedy hunger as he unfastened and lowered his pants, his impossibly hard cock springing free.

  God, he looked divine. Even with bruising across his ribs, grey in his hair, and a taped-up wound on his shoulder, he looked impressive. Imposing.

  With the condom rolled over his hard length, he gripped my waist tightly, drawing me closer with a sharp jerk.

  My body slid forward on a gasp. “And I guess that means you’re still in charge,” I panted.

  “Only because you put me there.” His voice was a low growl of need. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it disgustingly regrettable.”

  “God, yes.”

  All my wild and deadly clamored to let loose, but I was under his command, and wherever he led, I’d follow.

  His need was as palatable as my own, but he was restrained. Disciplined. Controlled.

  Until now, I hadn’t recognized how badly I wanted that. His strict rule. His need for order. His mastery of all things—including me. I wanted to feel his domination. To have him fuck the wild right out of me.

  With a couple rough tugs on my clothing, he was pushing into me on a loud groan. “Fuck, Kira.”

  He clutched hard at my ass, pulling me farther onto him as I hugged his waist tight between my knees, my heels hitting the counter. My legs opened with the push of his hips, giving into his silent demand. Grinding hard against my spread thighs, he sank deep, taking his time, finding the spot that would set me off.

  “Lean back,” he urged, his mouth capturing mine in a sharp, searing kiss as he laid me out over the counter.

  My back and shoulders hit the wall and I watched as he kissed his way down, between my breasts. His cock was still deep, pressing hard, as he guided my hips in a steady rocking rhythm.

  God, it was good.

  His mouth drifted to my breast, sucking on my nipple, still covered by the dress. When he pulled that tight bud between his teeth, electric shock waves rippled through me—from my chest straight to my pussy.

  I cried out, lost in pleasure.

  Bodhi’s hips moved faster, his hands gripped harder. The feeling mounted, building me to a heightened peak.

  I couldn’t contain myself, the rush of ecstasy was too much, too soon. “Fuck,” I shouted, writhing uncontrolled over his dick.

  “Yes,” he panted. “Give it to me.”

  I didn’t know what he wanted. My orgasm, my wild-side, my soul. It didn’t matter. He had me
—whatever he wanted, it was his. “Bodhi, please,” I wailed. “Take it. Take me.”

  There was no more restraint. He pounded hard into me, crushing my ass against the edge of the counter, and knocking my head into the wall.

  Now we were both wild. Both free. Out of fucking control.

  And, God, it was perfect.

  I burst apart, my back arching dramatically as the orgasm took over. My core squeezed tight and Bodhi followed right behind, silently straining as his cock jerked inside of me.

  I collapsed in a ragged heap, not caring in the least that my neck was at an uncomfortable angle or that my ass was hanging off the counter. Along with the endorphins, Bodhi was still running the show, and for the moment, I didn’t give a fuck about anything else.

  Bodhi

  Kira was sleeping peacefully beside me. She was rolled away, on her side, with her fist tucked under her chin and her long legs curled up to her chest. It was an innocent pose, but even in her sleep, she looked like a panther ready to pounce.

  I was tired and sore, but still couldn’t sleep. I’d tried focusing on the ticking of the old-fashioned clock on the wall, hoping the white noise would drown out my thoughts, but the sound only acted as a reminder that time was running out. We couldn’t stay in this cozy suburban sanctuary forever.

  This time with Kira couldn’t last.

  She’d let her guard down for a moment before sex. She’d shown me her softness hidden under the wild. It was just a glimpse, but enough to show me she wasn’t all drop kicks and throat punches, and her emotional outbursts were more than angry possession. Kira’s hard looks, cruel words, and rough touches were a shield. Her armor. Yes, she was a tough woman—deadly, even—but she was also hiding something. Something more than fears and wounds because of a missing sister.

  I wanted to know more, to dig deeper, but she’d withdrawn from me again. From the time I’d pulled out of her to the time she’d crawled into this bed, she’d only spoken four words.

  I need a shower.

  It wasn’t the reaction I’d hoped for or even expected, but hell, I’d been too exhausted to argue. She’d wanted her space. So, I gave it.