Guarded by the Cowboy (WEST Protection Book 2) Page 12

  “Well, you want me too.” Her voice echoed with the stubbornness she’d never give up, and he was damn thankful for it too. He loved sparring with her too much.

  She sent a pointed look to his fly, which bulged with the evidence that he’d lost his freakin’ mind somewhere between “I do” and knowing Lauralee could have walked into a trap that had gotten her killed.

  She turned to face him and cupped his jaw. “It’s okay. You don’t have to save the world, you know. Only Black’s wife. I can take care of myself.”

  “Like hell. You’re my—” He stopped short of finishing the sentence with wife.

  But she seemed to understand.

  “Favorite way to blow up a house and help a woman escape?” Her question caught him off guard, and he huffed a ragged laugh.

  “I’ll have to think on that. I can’t really focus with you lying beside me in that little number.”

  She giggled. “This old thing?”

  “Yes,” he growled, burying his face against her throat and simultaneously latching on to the zipper on her spine. “This…old…thing…” He slid the zipper all the way to her lower back. “That makes you look sexy as hell.”

  “Your idea of hot must be a grandma in a housedress.”

  “Hey, no dissin’ on Grammy Wynton.”

  She burst into giggles, which he instantly cut off by rolling her beneath him, settling his bulging cock between her thighs and claiming her lips in a deep, all-consuming kiss.

  He needed to be in the driver’s seat, to show her he could keep her safe and shower her with attention and make her scream.

  As he delved his tongue between her lips and tangled it with hers, he realized they hadn’t discussed the matter of their relationship. They bickered, bantered, made out. And each time drew him closer to her.

  Did she feel the same way?

  Her soft moans of pleasure as he stripped her dress off one arm and exposed her breast ignited a deep primal instinct to protect, savor and lay claim.

  After this was all over, who knew? For now, he had to touch her.

  Taste her.

  Tearing his mouth from the kiss, he stared at her through hooded eyes. “I’m going to strip this dress off you and suck your nipples until you’re begging me.”

  Her breaths sped up, and she dug her fingers into his hair. “Begging for what?”

  “My tongue. Right here.” He reached under her dress and cupped her pussy.

  She sucked in sharply, arching into his touch.

  Watching her face, he stroked his thumb across the swollen bump of her clit through her damp panties. “Licking you nice and slow.”

  Her eyes darkened.

  “Up and down.” He followed the path he vowed his tongue would travel in the next sixty seconds.

  “Slipping in here.” He pressed on her opening, leaving a tiny divot in her panties.

  “Less talk and more action, Wynton.”

  A grin sliced across his face. How, in the midst of all that was going on here, did this woman manage to actually make him happy?

  Slowly stripping her dress off her body, he caressed the curves that drove him to the brink before he removed her bra and panties, leaving her bare and spread out for him like a treat on a naughty buffet.

  “Not fair. You still have your clothes on.”

  Pinning her arms over her head, he hovered over her, aching, hard and dying to get inside her.

  “That’s because I’m in the driver’s seat today.” To prove his point, he took her lips in a searing kiss. Her cries grew more insistent until he abruptly broke free and moved to her earlobes, nibbling each. He sucked and then pulled off to flick his tongue down her throat, on a quest for those perfect nipples that had started it all.

  Spending long minutes driving her crazy took a supreme amount of self-control. Listening to her little gasps threatened to tear it all away. His pulse pounded.

  “Please, Boone!”

  He popped his mouth off her nipple. “Been waitin’ for that.” He shot her a grin as he flipped onto his back and dragged her up and over him, straddling his face.

  Her curvy thighs and the wet treasure between lowered to his lips. At first, he pressed a soft kiss to her pussy. Then he yanked her down and slipped his tongue into her folds.

  * * * * *

  Lauralee’s insides were melting with each crazed pass of Boone’s tongue. She shamelessly rocked up and down, taking in all the sensation and anchoring herself in the warm glow he created.

  Everything she knew about Boone proved that he was good. A good bodyguard, brother, son, friend.

  Lover.

  Husband.

  She didn’t even want a husband, but if she did, it would be one like Boone. He made her laugh to take her mind off her cares. He’d whip out a weapon and fight anyone who threatened her.

  And he gave the best oral sex she could ever imagine.

  Heat zipped along the nerves of her thighs and centered in her core. Her insides pulsated to the beat of an internal drum that grew wilder and wilder. She clutched the headboard, riding his tongue into the oblivion of lust.

  Her release rushed through her veins, unstoppable, and she threw her head back on a muffled cry that went on and on.

  After dizzying seconds, he gently lifted her off him, tossed her down on the mattress and climbed off the bed.

  Through eyes still blurred from lust, she peered at him. A tendril of hair dripped into her eye.

  His stare drilled into her. Her insides knotted up tight again, even after the pounding orgasm he’d just given her. Seeing him slowly glide his tongue over his lower lip and gather what was left of her juices sent a shiver clear to her toes.

  Without looking away, he stripped off his clothes. All those dips and swells…God, could the man be any sexier? Butt naked with his hand gripping his hard length at the base, angling it toward her splayed thighs, he was the hottest man alive.

  As skin touched skin, she clamped her thighs around him, locking him against her. He dropped his forehead to rest against hers. Up close, his amber eyes glimmered, and tiny creases formed at each corner.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he rasped.

  “I was just thinking that about you.”

  His eyes creased more. “At least I didn’t accuse you of liking old grandpas.”

  She nipped at his lower lip.

  A growl vibrated through his chest, and she pushed against his cock to urge him to join them at long last. If she panted any faster, she’d hyperventilate.

  With a slow, slick glide, he filled her in one smooth motion. The feel of his hard length stretching her all the way to her core, coupled with the feelings this moment roused, shot a thrill to her heart.

  No way. She couldn’t be…falling for Boone, could she? Who fell for a fake husband?

  She simply liked him.

  A lot.

  Especially the side of him that wasn’t telling her off for doing her job, even though her job was really much different from this.

  He swung his hips back and filled her again. The sensation of floating and coming apart mowed down her thoughts like blades of grass in a field.

  She locked her arms around Boone’s neck and let go of everything she knew about him besides this very moment. The stroke of his cock through her tightening walls…his expression and the passionate swirl of his tongue against hers all proved too much for her, and tears burned in her eyes.

  Her peak dangled within reach like a brass—or platinum?—ring to catch hold of and win for herself. With a rasping cry, she tipped into oblivion. Waves pummeled her. Juices soaked his shaft.

  A guttural grunt emitted from his throat at the second a spurt of hot cum hit her insides.

  This time she’d gone much deeper, let herself fall even more.

  She’d never been the frivolous girly type who fell for a man within days…but she’d known him a little longer than that, right?

  Granted, she’d disliked him then.

  Or had she just be
en too stubborn and determined that Boone wasn’t close to the type of man she preferred? He strode into the office, a tall drink of water with his hat tipped too low over his eyes and she pegged him for a cocky jerk.

  His teasing had only hardened the cement barrier in her mind.

  Now, looking at him through an after-sex haze and the blur of post-amazing-sex tears, she saw a beautiful and remarkable, smart, witty man who was willing to put his life on the line every damn day.

  He was willing to take a bullet for each person he guarded, including her.

  Her throat thickened as she stared at him in awe.

  “Oh honey. C’mere.” He flexed his arms tight around her and rolled them so she lay stretched out half atop him, her head pillowed on his hard shoulder and her thigh anchored over his hip.

  He caressed her spine in sweeping strokes. She imagined if she ever saw him pet his horse, it would look this way.

  “Boone?”

  “Uh-huh?”

  “Whatever happens after this, I’m glad I had this time with you.”

  Rather than relax that she wasn’t going to make demands of him when this was all over, he tensed.

  He stilled his hand on her spine. “What do you think’s going to happen?”

  She gave an awkward shrug, which only managed to glue her sticky, damp skin to his and peel it up with a painful rip. She wrinkled her nose at the sensation but answered, “I don’t really know. We never get around to discussing what this is, let alone what we’ll do with our feelings afterward.”

  He cracked his eye open to look at her. “Do you have feelings?”

  “I…can’t say yet exactly. Don’t say you know either because I know it will be a lie. Let’s just…be for now. Besides, we have more pressing concerns, such as how to cut that camera, get inside Isadora’s room and break her out.”

  He gently rubbed a circle over her spine once more. “One thing’s for sure—you won’t be around when any of that happens.”

  She levered herself onto her elbow to stare at him. “What?”

  “I meant it when I said that it’s too dangerous for you, Lauralee. I’m going to find a way to get you out of here, and I don’t want you taking trays to her room anymore.”

  The crinkle between his brows accentuated the dark gleam in his eyes. She had to admit the protector act was sexy and brought a depth to him she hadn’t understood in their first month in each other’s presence.

  But looking hot as sin when he delivered those lines didn’t mean she would obey him.

  “I have to do it again, Boone. Don’t you see? I did it once, and now they’ll trust me with the chore.”

  “You’re not trained to handle yourself. If the woman rushes the door to escape, what would you do?”

  “Let her pass and try to find a way to let her escape unnoticed.”

  He winced. “Exactly. And the minute Black realizes it was you who opened the lion’s cage, so to speak, then you’re the missing person the cook spoke of.” He shook his head. “No damn way.”

  “I can do the same things you can, Boone.”

  “If you were trained, sure. But you’re not, honey. You can blast apart a firewall with a click of a button, but you can’t defend yourself physically.”

  She fell silent, digesting this and not liking it one bit.

  Though she was physically fit, she didn’t know martial arts or carry a weapon tucked inside her maid’s uniform. She would have to leave those things up to Boone, even if it didn’t sit well with her.

  Suddenly, he pinched her bottom. She let out a squeal. “What was that for?”

  “Let’s go ridin’. I want to get some distance from this place so I can think better. Is it just me or do you feel a heavy cloud over the ranch?”

  She nodded, rubbing her chin against his muscled pec. “I was thinking that today while I vacuumed about three hundred miles of carpeting.”

  He grunted. “C’mon. Let’s saddle a couple horses and maybe take a loop around the house and peek in windows.”

  When they left the house and went into the stables, they didn’t cross paths with anyone, though they spotted some ranch hands completing evening chores. They took the same path they had last time, and Lauralee’s stomach heated at the thought of their last encounter in the pines.

  As soon as they were a fair distance away, in a place where they wouldn’t be overheard, Boone drew his mare up next to hers.

  “How would you go about taking down the camera in Isadora’s room?” he asked.

  She cocked her head, looking at more pines and the dirt track ahead of her but seeing computer pathways and unseen connections. “It’s on a different circuit than the rest of the house, and I don’t believe Black would be dumb enough to have actual recordings of his wife in captivity.”

  “So live footage only.”

  She nodded.

  “Is there a way to break the reception? Some interruption?”

  “Well, webcam hacking is real. People hack into people’s cams and take pictures without their knowledge. So yes, there’s a way. You can use jamming, for one.”

  “I’ve heard of that, but refresh my memory.”

  “Orchestrate a bunch of wireless signals at once to basically overpower the frequency.”

  “And you know how to do this?” He shooed away a mosquito.

  She smacked at one too as they entered a particularly thick swarm. “I can do it. But I need access to a system. It can’t be done from my burn phone.”

  “I’ll see what I can do about getting you access. And if I can’t, I’ll get Silas on the job.”

  She swayed with the horse’s every step, but she was far from lulled into calm. “What will happen if we can’t get her out of here?” She asked the one question that had been weighing on her mind from the moment she first set eyes on the woman.

  “If we can’t, we’ll pass the job off to someone who can. There are groups who have no problem kidnapping a person.”

  Her brows shot up. “And you associate with such people?”

  “Not personally, no. But we can make contact if necessary.”

  They rode on in silence for several more minutes. Her allergies were flaring up and her eyes started to water.

  She sniffled.

  Boone threw out an arm and caught her reins. She sent him a questioning look, and he peered at her closer.

  “You’re not crying, are you?”

  “No. My allergies.” She dipped her head. “I was so worried this morning about how to get my dress zipped that I forgot to take my pills. I probably look awful, with puffy, red eyes.”

  He tugged her reins, drawing her mount to a stop alongside his. His gaze traveled over her. “You actually look beautiful.”

  She issued a short laugh. “It must be getting too dark for you to see.”

  “I can see fine,” he grated in a roughened whisper as he leaned over, hooked an arm around her waist and plucked her out of her saddle.

  She squeaked with surprise when she landed in his hard lap. With one palm pressed against his chiseled chest, she tilted her head to stare into his eyes.

  He slid his callused fingertip down the curve of her cheek and brushed the corner of her lips. She sucked in sharply in awareness of how hard he was growing beneath her and from the way he swept his gaze over her face, as if seeing the sun for the first time.

  “You really are striking, Lauralee. Your pale skin and freckles.” He skimmed his finger across her cheekbone. “Most of all your eyes. I noticed those the first day we met.”

  Her breaths came faster. “You…did?”

  He glanced over her hair, which must look a mess after being pinned into a bun all day while she slaved and then their romp back in the room had it spilling all over the place in a wild mess.

  Tensing at the raw electricity zapping between them, she stopped breathing just as Boone lowered his mouth and claimed hers in an all-consuming kiss.

  He cupped her head in one palm, angling it back to plunge his tong
ue inside. His flavor filled her head with longing, and she wiggled closer, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders and anchoring herself to his body.

  The kiss went carnal, with sexy moans escaping from each of them and a fire burning hotter and more out of control by the heartbeat.

  When he finally lifted his mouth free, he gazed down at her. She felt hot and sticky and even more disheveled, but he continued to look at her in a way that made her feel beautiful.

  “I don’t want anything to happen to you, Lauralee,” he grated. “Not on my watch.”

  Some of her good sense returned after being shaken up like fizzy soda from his kisses. “You’re not responsible, Boone.”

  He captured her hand and pressed his fingers into her rings. “I damn well am.”

  The walls of her heart trembled. Had he really just spoken those words?

  Shaken to the core, she could only stare at him.

  They weren’t yet able to voice whatever was going on between them, but maybe it was due to them both being logical thinkers. They lived by what they knew, and there wasn’t a book written to tell them how to deal with a fake marriage.

  When he kissed her again, something had changed between them—shifted. He worried about her. He cared.

  He’d acknowledged he was her husband.

  Chapter Nine

  “Hey, Marks. How’s it goin’?” Butch Flaherty, the ranch foreman, looked up as Boone entered the garage, where he and a couple of ranch hands were working on a tractor.

  In a glance, Boone assessed what they were doing. How many times had he and one of his brothers torn apart a transmission in the old girl on the Wynton Ranch?

  “I’d say my day’s a sight better than yours.” He settled his hand on the cool metal of the tractor and ducked his head to eye the progress.

  Flaherty chuckled. “You’re probably right about that. Ever fixed a tractor?”

  “A couple times. Or twenty. Growing up, we didn’t have the best equipment.”

  “Black should just buy a new one so we can quit ripping this one apart,” one of the hands working on the mechanical beast grumbled.

  Flaherty shot Boone a look and then tipped his head toward the door, indicating they should step outside.