Blood Bound (Blackhawk Security Book 2)

by Samantha A. Cole

  Once that call was finished, he’d contacted Shannon and then Irv, checking up on things at the office and seeing if anything needed his immediate attention. That was the good thing about having a staff he trusted implicitly—he could work off-site and be assured they could handle anything that came up. Irv had updated him on a couple of cases, and Shannon had made sure he understood there was a pile of paperwork sitting on his desk that he needed to sign first thing in the morning.

  By the time Tuff, Boots, and Meat had shown up with Mickey, Rylie had been up and moving again, trying to appear as if nothing was wrong. At some point she was going to have to explain to her daughter what was going on, but Chase understood her desire to put it off for as long as possible. He didn’t blame her either. It wasn’t a conversation he would want to have with the girl.

  Rylie had made herself busy, making spaghetti and garlic bread for dinner, inviting Dusty and Reaper, who’d relieved the earlier shift, to join them for dinner. Afterward, Chase and his employees had taken over the kitchen and the cleanup duties, while Rylie had helped Mickey with her homework.

  Now, with his men back outside on sentry duty, and Mickey in bed, it was just Chase and Rylie moving around her house. When she returned to the kitchen, carrying a cardboard storage box, Chase quickly moved their after-dinner coffee cups to the side, making room for her to set it down on the table. “What’s this?”

  She took a seat next to him and removed the lid from the box. “Some of Emma’s belongings. I kept a lot of things for Mickey to learn about her and remember her by. There are four other boxes in the closet of the spare bedroom. We take them out sometimes and go through all the stuff. Some of it’s from when we were kids—keepsakes she saved—and some is from college and after we graduated. Then the rest are from after Emma found out she was pregnant.”

  Pulling out a handful of items, including papers and photographs, she placed them on the table. From the pictures on top of the pile, Chase deduced this was the box filled with things from when Mickey was a baby. He picked up a photo of a younger Rylie cradling the newborn in her arms. Even then, the woman had been a knockout. If they’d met all those years ago, Chase would still have been drawn to her. The smile on her face and light in her eyes said she’d fallen in love with the infant from the moment she’d seen her.

  Mickey had been a beautiful baby too—chubby cheeks, bowed lips, and a smattering of pale peach fuzz covering her scalp. She’d been sleeping peacefully when the photo had been taken.

  An ache took up residence in Chase’s heart. She hadn’t even lived a decade yet, and she’d needed to overcome so much—losing her biological mother, fighting cancer, and now the possibility of having her adoptive mother lose custody of her. But, still, Mickey glowed and took life by the horns. He expected big things from her as she grew older. She was the type of kid who would leave an incredible mark on the world around her, of that he had no doubt.

  Rylie smiled. “She was about an hour old there.”

  “She was adorable. Still is.”

  “Yup.” She showed him the first ultrasound Emma had gotten, but, honestly, he could only make out a foot when Rylie pointed it out to him. He could never read those things until the expecting mother was much further along in her pregnancy. “Here are her footprints they took at the hospital when she was born. Her birth certificate.”

  He glanced at it, hoping Emma had listed a biological father, but the spot for that had been left blank. Of course, that’d been too much to hope for.

  They spent the next hour going through the box, and Chase loved listening to Rylie relate the memories of her friend. He wished he’d had an opportunity to meet Emma. It sounded as if she’d been a hoot. Some of the stories Rylie told him, about the two women navigating the uncharted waters of dealing with a newborn and then a toddler together, had been hysterical. Rylie had helped out Emma as much as she could, so it was no wonder the deceased woman had named her best friend as the guardian of her precious little girl.

  “Having Mickey put a crimp in the annual vacations we took together,” she told him, “but we couldn’t wait until she was old enough to enjoy all the places Emma wanted to take her. Of course, they had to be within driving distance or in a cruise’s port of call.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Emma was terrified of flying ever since a really turbulent flight when she was around eleven or twelve. As she got older, she did try a few times to face her phobia, when we planned a couple of trips with some girlfriends, but she could never get past the check-in at the airlines. She would freeze up and then have a major panic attack. She made sure she got travel insurance, so she wouldn’t lose money if her fear got the best of her. After the second failed attempt, we just started taking road trips and cruises out of Tampa.”

  Rylie removed a woman’s black, leather wallet from the bottom of the box and opened it. “Is it silly I saved her driver’s license and stuff? I mean, here’s her credit cards—of course, I canceled them—store loyalty cards, and even her blood donor card.” She absentmindedly pulled each one out and showed him before tucking them back in again.

  Chase settled his hand on top of hers. “No, it’s not silly. I’m sure Mickey will be happy to always have these everyday types of connections to Emma.”

  “I keep saying I should organize everything and put it all into scrapbooks instead of keeping them in boxes.”

  “Sounds like a fun project for you and Mickey to work on together. My sister, Ava, loves scrapbooking—is that even a word?” When she nodded, he continued. “Once or twice a month, she sits at the dining room table with my two nieces, and they have fun with all the different papers and other things they collect. They even have a scrapbook dedicated to me, with photos and stuff.” He laughed. “But don’t be too impressed by that. They have ones dedicated to all the pets they’ve had too—including a hamster and a rescued chinchilla.”

  Rylie snorted. “A chinchilla? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a real one—just on the internet.”

  “Yeah, well, some people keep them as pets. Morty—yes, that was his name—was rescued from a hoarding situation. The woman had cats, dogs, macaws, and Morty. Some of the dogs were pit bulls, so Ava’s rescue was called in to help. When she spotted Morty in a cage, she scooped him up and brought him home. He was pampered for the next four or five years until he passed away. My sister and her kids held a funeral for him in the backyard. After seeing the photos of them all dressed in black, throwing a New Orleans-style funeral, my brother-in-law was grateful he’d been on a flight somewhere and had missed the whole thing.”

  Laughter burst out from Rylie’s chest. “Oh, my Lord! I think I would’ve paid money to see that. A chinchilla’s Mardi-Gras funeral.”

  Chuckling, Chase started putting Emma’s stuff back into the box. “Next time they come to visit, I’ll tell my nieces to bring Morty’s scrapbook. You’ll get a kick out of it, I swear. Although, I’m afraid of what they’ll do when I die—I honestly don’t want my funeral forever detailed in a scrapbook.”

  Rylie continued to giggle as she helped him put everything back. “That’s a depressing thought.” She set the lid atop the box.

  “I’ll put it back,” Chase told her. “The spare bedroom’s closet, right?”

  “Yes, thanks.”

  As she started cleaning up their now-empty coffee mugs, he returned the treasured box to its storage spot. Sure enough, there were four more identical boxes. It was kind of sad that a woman’s vibrant life had been reduced to these scant pieces of memorabilia. But it was nice that Micky would be able to see how much her birth mother had loved her. There’d been a sparkle in Emma’s eyes in every photo she’d shared with her precious daughter. Now, Chase had to make sure that same sparkle remained in Rylie’s eyes.

  Returning to the kitchen, he found her staring out the window at the dark backyard. Her arms were wrapped around her waist. Making a little noise so he wouldn’t startle her, he stepped up behind her and put his arms around h
er, holding her to his chest. “You okay?”

  She slowly spun around until she was facing him. The hurt in her eyes was almost his undoing. Before he could react, Rylie slid her hands up his chest to his shoulders. “Stay with me tonight,” she whispered. “I need you.”

  Chase studied her face. She wasn’t just asking for his simple company tonight. No, it was so much more. She needed him on a visceral level. She wanted to find comfort in his body tangling and joining with hers. “Are you sure?”

  Going up on her tiptoes, she brushed her lips across his. “Very sure.”

  Chase didn’t need any more encouragement than that. Glancing behind her, he made sure the door was locked. He’d already checked the front door. Once he was certain the house was secure, he swooped her up into his arms, eliciting a giggle from her. He quietly carried her down the hall to her room. “I’ll leave before five, so she doesn’t know I stayed.”

  “Okay—thank you.”

  Setting her on her feet, he closed the door with a snick and engaged the lock. The last thing they needed was for Mickey to walk in on them. When he turned back to Rylie, he was surprised to see her cheeks red with heat. He raised his brow at her. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

  Her gaze dropped to the floor, and she toed the carpet. “Um . . . do you have . . . um . . . protection? It’s been so long for me, I don’t have anything handy and I’m not on the pill.”

  He chuckled and stepped toward her. Cupping her chin, he lifted until she was looking at him. “Would you be mad if I said I picked up a new box the other day, hoping I’d need them soon? Honestly, it’s been a while since I’ve been with a woman. Work has been my main priority lately—at least until I met you and Mickey.”

  Rylie lifted her heels, setting her hands on his shoulders as his hands gripped her waist. Her plump, pink lips were scant inches from his when she whispered, “Kiss me, Chase.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chase’s dimples appeared as he chuckled. “How can I turn down such a request from a beautiful woman?”

  He lowered his head and took possession of her mouth, which she opened without hesitation, inviting him in. His heady scent and taste were driving her crazy. Talk about pheromones. The man exuded sexuality. Rylie felt like Jane to his Tarzan. She suddenly didn’t want slow. Not this time. After they’d both released some of the intense sexual energy arcing between them, they could take it slowly for round two. And even during round three if there was one tonight. She hoped so, because after a dry spell that’d lasted several years, Rylie was primed and ready.

  She broke off the kiss, stepped back, and quickly shed her shirt and bra. Chase was still wearing the white, button-down shirt he’d gone to work in that day, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was a very hot, sexy look for him with a smattering of chest hair peeking out from the open collar, dark-gray dress pants, and black socks. He’d kicked off his shoes earlier in the evening but hadn’t yet changed out his business attire as he usually did. The man always had a go-bag packed in his vehicle, with several changes of clothing. Apparently, it was habit from his time in the military and running a security company. He never knew when he’d need to run out of town at a moment’s notice.

  As his hungry gaze raked over her, causing her nipples to pucker, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, exposing every delicious, taut muscle hiding underneath. “Get rid of the shorts and underwear, sweetheart. Let me see all of you.”

  She gulped and did as he’d commanded and watched as he undressed as well. God, the man had solid, sinewy muscles from head to toe. On his left side, over his ribs, there was a large tattoo of a cross, with “Dad” in fancy script and what she assumed were the years of his father’s birth and death. Her mouth watered as he retrieved his wallet from a back pocket, tossed it on her nightstand, then let his pants fall to the floor. While she stood there naked as the day she’d been born, Chase was still wearing boxer briefs, which did little to conceal the massive erection he was sporting.

  When he held out a hand, she placed her smaller one in his and let him draw her closer. Erotic chills raced up and down her spine and sent goose bumps skittering over her exposed flesh. As he licked his lips, Chase cupped Rylie’s jaw with both hands.

  “So fucking beautiful,” he whispered a second before his lips met hers again. As his mouth melded with hers, he backed her up until her legs hit the bed. Not letting up the sensual assault his tongue had forged against her own, he soon had her lying on her back with his body covering hers.

  Every cell in Rylie’s body hummed with need, with electricity as Chase left her mouth and kissed, licked, and sucked his way down to her breasts. Rylie ran her hands over his hair, unable to grasp onto the short strands, while she squirmed and gasped under him. After lingering a few moments, Chase moved further downward, and Rylie bucked her hips. She wanted . . . no, she needed his mouth on her most private parts.

  He slid off the edge of the bed and got on his knees before yanking on her hips, dragging her closer. “Look at me, Rylie.”

  She whimpered when she lifted her head and saw a torrential storm brewing in his eyes. As she watched, he kept his gaze on hers and dipped his chin. When his tongue lapped at her folds, she almost screamed and hit the ceiling from the sensations that single carnal act sent coursing through her body, swirling around before settling in her core. When he did it again, she was better prepared, but her hips still jerked. Setting an arm over her pelvis to hold her in place, Chase feasted on her. She couldn’t recall ever in her life being so close to an orgasm in such a short time of foreplay. Her lungs rapidly drew in precious oxygen as she urged him on. “Please, Chase. More. Don’t . . . don’t stop. Oh, God, please!”

  His tongue thrust inside her, doing unbelievable, sinful things to her, as his five-o’clock shadow abraded the skin of her inner thighs. All Rylie could do was wriggle and gasp as he drove her higher and higher. His thumb rubbed the side of her clit, fueling the fire within her, but it wasn’t enough to send her over the edge. “Oh, please. Chase! I need . . . oh, please, I need . . . more, more!”

  Chase thought Rylie’s scent was the most enticing aphrodisiac he’d ever encountered. And that had been true up until the moment he’d tasted her. Her pussy was a banquet for his taking. He flattened his tongue, laving her clit while he eased a finger inside her. Fuck, she was so damn tight. So hot. So wet. The thought of what she’d feel like around his shaft had him nearly coming like a teenage boy.

  His cock was harder than he could ever remember it being. She did something to him. Something he’d never felt with any other woman he’d been attracted to.

  Adding another finger, he coaxed her to reach for the peak, so he could send her flying. Her gasps, moans, and pleas were music to his ears. He fought the urge to throw his control out the window and ravish her like a wild beast. At least for this first time.

  “Oh, Chase . . . please!”

  He knew why she was keeping her voice low, but he looked forward to a time when he could hear her scream his name as they fucked each other with abandon.

  With his free hand, he exposed her clit further, wooing it from the hood protecting it. His tongue teased one side of the little pearl and then the other, never fully giving her what she was begging him for. He could do this for hours, enjoying every minute, every second of the pleasure he was doling out. Her tight walls quivered around his fingers as they stretched her, causing his cock to twitch, demanding the attention they were receiving.

  Nothing else mattered in that moment. All his focus was on Rylie’s pleasure. When her pleas climbed higher in pitch, becoming almost incoherent, he knew she was close. He sealed his mouth over her clit and sucked hard. That was all it took for the climax to hit her. Her limbs and torso shook, as her inner walls rippled around his fingers. Her back arched, and her fists clutched the comforter as if her life depended on it.

  Slowly, he brought her back down to earth and grinned when her eyelids lifted to half-mast. Getting to his feet and wiping his m
outh of the last of her juices, he gave her a moment to recover as he retrieved a condom from his wallet. He was surprised when she sat up and snatched the small package from him. “Drop ’em, Dixon,” she ordered seductively, gesturing to his boxer briefs.

  Heaven help him. He didn’t know if he had enough control in him to let her sheath him, but when he saw the feisty, mischievous smile on her face, he knew she was challenging him to try. Damn, he really liked this playful, sexy side of her.

  Hooking his thumbs under the waistband, he shoved the underwear down his legs and kicked them off. Rylie crooked her finger at him, daring him to take the few steps separating them. As he moved closer, his cock bobbed against his abdomen as his balls hung heavily below. He watched as she slowly opened the package and removed the condom. When her hand wrapped around him, to hold him steady, he hissed, and his eyes fluttered shut as he tried to stave off the orgasm that threatened to shake him to his core. With her other hand, Rylie rolled the condom down his cock, and Chase thanked his lucky stars she hadn’t put her mouth on him. If that’d happened, he would’ve exploded on the spot. He was hanging on by a thread as it was.

  Grasping her wrists, he pulled her hands away from him before crawling onto the bed, covering her body with his own and settling his hips between her silky thighs. Her wet heat was like a siren’s call to his cock. Reaching down, he hooked one of his hands under her knee and lifted, opening her more.

  “Please, Chase. Don’t go slow. I need you.”

  He kissed her as his cock breached her entrance. Thank God she didn’t want slow because the last of his control snapped as she enveloped him. With brisk, short strokes, he drove further and further inside her tight channel, stretching her and gaining ground until he was buried to the hilt. Going up on his knees, he pushed up and out on the backs of her thighs until she was spread wide for him. Watching his cock slide in and out of her brought him to the brink of ecstasy, and he was torn between fucking her as long as he could or jumping off into the abyss waiting for him.