Something About a Bounty Hunter Read online

  Her knees weakened, and she ached to turn into his arms and look up into those gray eyes.

  Just to be slaughtered all over again?

  He’d hurt her and was hurting her now by pretending she meant something more than a wet pussy around his cock.

  She jerked her arm back, ramming her elbow into his rock-hard midsection. A puff of air left him, and her arm tingled from the blow. She threw herself into her room and slammed the door in his face.

  She didn’t have time to lock it before he blasted in. The wood sounding as if it splintered on the hinges.

  “What the hell’s going on?” He slammed the door and locked it. Then legs braced wide, he stared at her.

  Backing up a step, she threw out, “I thought you were gone.”

  “I’m back.” He took a step closer.

  She inched away. The room was small and soon she’d bump into the bed or dresser. In the space, Dirty looked like one toss of his hair out of his eyes would cave in a wall. His power, his steel-eyed look…

  Oh God. Don’t give in, Stormy.

  She swallowed hard and braced herself for battle.

  The backs of her thighs hit the soft mattress. Crap, the only way out was up through the small window or the door behind Dirty. Neither seemed like a good option.

  “Baby, why are you looking at me that way?”

  “Why don’t you ask Kylie?” She hated the way her lower lip threatened to tremble on the words. She’d never been in love before, and she was not going to even consider the L word with a dickhead like Dirty.

  His rugged features smoothed and he stared at her with understanding clear on his face. “Stormy. Baby, calm down. Nothing happened.”

  Sure. “Except you took a sweet butt into your bed!” Her voice escalated louder with each word. She was losing her shit. And why? Over a man. She was a Bighorn, dammit, not shaken apart by something so stupid and fragile as love.

  Nope, not love. No L word within the same hemisphere as this biker.

  He reached for her. Big hands closed over her upper arms and he drew her onto tiptoe, his mouth hovering inches from hers. Dammit, she’d taken a deep breath and now her head was swimming with his scent. All that spice and leather. God, how was she going to get to the window and open it before he caught her and she drowned in his scents again?

  Head whirling, she looked away.

  He pinched the point of her chin lightly and brought her gaze back. He had to have the fullest lips in the universe, didn’t he? She closed her eyes.

  “Stormy, look at me.”

  She’d spent too many nights in his bed taking his commands to not obey.

  She opened her eyes, and the sight of his stare sucker-punched her.

  He palmed her cheek, his hand extending from temple to jaw. She resisted the urge to lean into his touch.

  “Baby, I didn’t sleep with Kylie. Didn’t even touch her.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I’m supposed to believe that? I—”

  His mouth crashed over hers in a bruising, consuming kiss. She parted her lips on a gasp and he thrust his tongue into her mouth. Hot, claiming. She pushed closer to him, her hands betraying her by grabbing his face to pull him down for more.

  A moan echoed through the room, part hers, part his as they tumbled down on her bed. The springs protested his bulk, but she pawed at his shirt while he unbuttoned her jeans with a flick of his fingers.

  She barely had time to think as he eased down her zipper and he pushed through denim and cotton to find her needy folds, wet and ready since the moment she set eyes on him.

  Damn him to hell.

  She bit into his lower lip and he growled. Grabbing her by the wrists and pinning her to the bed, he braced himself over her and glared. “I didn’t fuck Kylie.”

  “How’d she end up in your bed then?”

  “I don’t have a fucking clue. I woke up and she was there, but I wasn’t drunk, baby. I know I didn’t lay a hand on her.”

  Her mind worked over this. Was it possible the woman had just taken it upon herself to slip into Dirty’s bed? Or—

  “You really didn’t invite her in or fuck her?”

  He shook his head. “She woke up ready to puke and I kicked her out into the hall before she could. That’s it. Now are you done giving me the evil eye, Stormy, because I’m burning up.”

  “My dad.” Her whisper came out on a puff of furious air.

  Braced on his elbows, he leaned back to stare down into her eyes. “You think he set this up to make you mad at me?”

  “I know he did. Revenge for siccing those two women on him and getting him away from the tequila.”

  “Damn, he’s a twisted fucker.”

  “He isn’t out to hurt me, Dirty. He just doesn’t want me with you.”

  “And that doesn’t hurt you? Never mind,” he said before she could respond.

  She gazed into his eyes. Her breaths came faster. She strained against his hands, wanting to touch him. “Swear it to me, Dirty. Swear you didn’t have anything to do with Kylie.”

  His eyelids fluttered. “I swear, baby. On my mother’s grave.”

  She made a sound of surrender, and he rocked his hips against hers.

  Chapter Six

  Having Stormy beneath him again, even biting and scratching, was the closest thing to heaven that Wes could imagine. Better than Eagle Crest on a warm summer’s day, better than his aunt’s biscuits after hard work.

  Her warm, silky skin stole his control and Jesus Christ, was she wet for him. He moaned against her lips, and she answered by rocking upward.

  He couldn’t strip her fast enough. They ripped at each other’s clothes. Her bra strap broke, sending them both giggling like teenagers. Then he had her spread before him.

  “I’m going to fucking feast on this beautiful body,” he grated out.

  Her hips swelled outward, perfect for filling his big hands. Her waist narrowed and then flared up to full breasts he couldn’t get enough of.

  Bending over her, he took her nipple in his mouth. She sucked in a gasp and locked a hand over his nape to pull him down harder.

  He flicked his tongue over the tip of her breast. A spasm hitting his groin as her nipple hardened for him.

  “So fucking responsive. Tell me how it feels.” He grazed her nipple with his teeth, raising a shudder from her.

  She twisted her fingers in his hair as he sucked at her nipple with strong pulls of his lips. “Feels so fucking good. Don’t stop.”

  “Like this?” He locked his gaze on hers while drawing on her taut bud. When he finished with a tongue swirl that made her eyes roll up in her head, he moved to the other with a satisfied smirk.

  His balls throbbed and he couldn’t wait to bury himself deep in her wet heat. He wasn’t letting her leave this bed before he’d had his fill.

  Starting with her nipples and ending with his face between her round thighs.

  She watched him torment her other nipple, speaking in incoherent coos and moaned words. He moved to kissing the flat of her belly, and she arched off the bed. He grinned against her golden skin, working his way down to the treasure nestled between her thighs.

  When his tongue met her sweetness, his cock hardened to full mast. Throbbing against the mattress, he fought down his own urges as he set to work.

  Nibbling the creases of her inner thighs until she wriggled. Brushing kisses over her outer pussy lips until she writhed. All the time avoiding the place she most wanted him.

  As impatient as ever, she grabbed him by the hair and pushed him toward her clit.

  “Lick my pussy, Dirty. You’re not doing your job.”

  “Oh, I think I’m doing a fucking great job.” He resisted teasing that bundle of nerves, watching desire play over her features.

  “Dirty.” His name came out as a warning and a moan.

  He let his breath wash over her neediest spot. “You want me to taste you here?” He lowered his head until he barely grazed her clit.

  “Oh G
od!” She bucked upward, pressing her pussy into his mouth.

  He took control, gripping her ass and feasting on her with tongue, lips and even applying pressure against her opening with his jaw.

  “God, I love when you face-fuck me.”

  “Less talk,” she mewled, inner thigh muscles twitching around his ears.

  He slipped one finger into her soaking pussy. She cried out as he sank it deep, curling his fingertip up toward her inner wall and stroking her G-spot.

  She vibrated with every stroke, and he felt her coming apart long before the rhythmic clench and release of her pussy began.

  “Dirty… please. Faster! Yes!”

  He pounded her and flattened his tongue over her straining nubbin, reveling in her flavors as she stiffened and started to pulsate.

  Three hard contractions… four. She quivered under his mouth, but he didn’t let up his assault until he’d ripped three more contractions from her.

  He lifted his head and pinned her with a wolfish grin.

  “Get that condom on, Dirty. I can’t wait for you long.”

  He pushed to his knees and gripped his cock at the base. Fisted it once, nice and slow, as she watched.

  When she licked her thumb and ran the pad over his slit, he issued a guttural groan. Who the fuck was he kidding? He couldn’t resist her any more than she could him.

  He grabbed that condom and rolled it into place in seconds. As he spread her legs wide and angled her body up to accept him, he looked into her eyes.

  “Tell me you want me,” he rasped.

  Her eyes, big, chocolate brown and burning with life, met his. “You know I do. Why do you think I got so mad about Kylie?”

  “I haven’t touched anyone but you.” He dropped his forehead to hers. “I never pretend when I’m alone with you.” He took his cock in hand and rubbed the swollen head over her slick folds. His balls clenched tight to his body, aching with the need to feel her wrapped around his every inch.

  Using her heel on his ass, she jerked him into her at the same moment she bucked up to meet him.

  He sank balls-deep. Eyes closing on a prayer for control he couldn’t seem to find when he was with her.

  She cupped his face and kissed his brow, his nose, his cheeks and finally his mouth. “Take me.”

  There was something in those words that touched his heart, a warm lick against a cold, lonely chunk of granite.

  He ground his hips, cock head rubbing her deepest point.

  “Oh my God… please do that again.”

  He did, watching her face contort with bliss.

  Then he grabbed her hair in one fist and tilted her head back to suck the pulse hammering in her neck while pounding into her body. She clung to him, her pussy grabbing at his every stroke, and he was losing his goddamn mind.

  In seconds, he was driving faster, harder, uncaring who heard his grunts or her screams as that familiar warm heat coiled at the base of his spine, telling him he was about to blow.

  Reaching between their bodies, he pressed his thumb over her clit, helping her along.

  In two more strokes, she was shaking in his hold with her release, and he spurted into her tight heat. Mind-numbing pleasure stole over him for God knew how long, and he came up for air to find her staring at him.

  She brushed his heavy hair off his brow in that tender way she always did after coupling, but this time he saw something more in her gaze.

  She was going to hate him, like all the other Bighorns, when he found the man he hunted and revealed who he truly was.

  * * * * *

  The big garage was packed with guys working on their bikes, tuning them up to ride. Looking around at the brothers, he felt part of it all.

  His bike was parked toward the back, and the steel and chrome called to him. He’d never completely go back to pickups and horses now—he loved the speed and freedom of riding motorcycle.

  And he loved the Bighorns. Which was why it was going to be so hard to capture Bonner.

  The guys issued a rowdy guffaw of laughter, and he grinned at their antics. Ribbing the new club members was part of the feeling of family—something he missed with his cousins. Yeah, he needed to head to Eagle Crest and soon.

  After what he planned to do to the Bighorns, he’d be banned anyway. It grated on him, but when he thought of Stormy, it sliced him deep. He had no idea how to keep her and do this job.

  Sundance waved him over, and Wes angled through the bikes, scattered toolboxes and jugs of oil to reach the prez’s side.

  “Mother Nature’s a fickle bitch in these mountains. Think the weather’ll hold out for the ride?” Wes leaned against the nearby wall and folded his arms.

  Sundance gave a nod. “Better hold out or we’ll need more booze and women to occupy them all.”

  Sundance stared at him.

  “Somethin’s on your mind. Speak it,” Wes drawled out.

  “You left mighty quickly yesterday and returned just as quick.”

  Wes lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “Thought I needed to escape the confines of the club, but I realized I wasn’t wrong.”

  Sundance eyed him. “Can’t help but wonder what a man like you’s searchin’ for.”

  Wes kept up his lazy pose, but his heart picked up the pace. Last thing he needed was a group of bikers pissed off that he’d snowed them over more than the Wyoming winter.

  Sundance continued to work, picking up various tools and tweaking his bike engine as he talked. “You came here searching for your mother’s story.”

  “That’s true. And I see why she felt this club was home.”

  “The brothers of this club all have stories too. Some worse than others, but we’ve all seen battle of some sort. I just wonder what you’ve seen.” Sundance’s blue eyes settled on Wes.

  He pushed off the wall and crouched next to the bike where Sundance was working. “Seen some things, but like you said, not more than any other Bighorn.” What was he fishing for?

  Sundance nodded again. “You’ve got other questions, though, which is why you leave. You’re searching for something.”

  Yeah, fugitives.

  He controlled his expression and counted his breaths to keep from giving himself away. These bikers may be his friends now, but as soon as they discovered he was using them, he wouldn’t last long.

  And Stormy would hate him.

  Wes gave a low chuckle. “Searching for the meaning of life, you mean? Shit like that?”

  Sundance’s mouth twisted in his idea of a smile. “Was thinking more about searching for your pa.”

  Wes’s spine snapped straighter. “My father?”

  “Yeah, you’ve never been told who he is, right?”

  Now his mouth was dry and his heart thundering. He tried for some semblance of nonchalance. “That’s right. You know him?”

  Sundance dropped his wrench into the toolbox. “Nah. He wasn’t anybody I knew. Your momma was knocked up when she came to us. On the run, like someone was chasing her, but I always suspected it was her personal demons and not a true threat.”

  “So my father was outside the club.”

  “Yep.” He nodded again. Always nodding, like his neck was on a spring. “She had some demons, your momma, but far as I know, she never confided in anybody. She’d be proud of you, Dirty. We like havin’ ya around too.” He grinned at Wes, and a huge wave of relief splashed over his system.

  He handed Sundance the wrench he was digging around for. “Thanks, I like bein’ a Bighorn.”

  “Doesn’t hurt having a pretty little brunette in your bed either, does it?”

  “You’d better be talkin’ out your ass, Dirty.” The voice belonged to Druid, who was suddenly standing near them.

  The skin on Wes’s neck prickled and he stood to his full height. Here we go.

  Several people nearby stopped talking and joking to look on. Sundance stood.

  “Seems like you take a peculiar interest in who comes to my bed, Druid. Why don’t you tell me why.�
�� Wes stared down the other biker.

  “You keep away from my daughter,” the man bit off.

  “Did you think sending that woman to my bed would make me give up Stormy? Because all it did was pull us together more.”

  Druid’s already red eyes grew more bloodshot.

  “You motherfucker.”

  Wes had always known Druid was a bottle of C-4 with a short fuse, and he was ready when the man launched himself at him.

  Fists hit him in the chest with bruising strength that knocked Wes back a few steps, but he came back at his opponent with double the rage. When he caught Druid around the middle, a scream sounded.

  No scream like that came from a biker. Wes had heard that voice enough to know it was Stormy.

  “Take it outside! Watch the bikes!” Sundance bellowed.

  Druid twisted Wes’s shirt front and shoved him against the wall hard enough to crumple a lesser man. But Wes just gave him a grin and came at him harder.

  “Asshole, if you fuck up my bike—” One guy’s threats were cut off as Wes and Druid danced through the gap. Wes’s boot caught the side of a toolbox and the clatter of metal on concrete echoed through the big building.

  “Get the fuck outta here, guys!” another biker yelled.

  Druid took a swing at Wes, and he ducked the blow.

  “Stop! What is wrong with you?” Stormy appeared next to them, hair long and loose and her face flushed pink with anger.

  Wes could only see the pink in her cheeks as arousal, though, and he fought all the harder. His right jab rocked Druid’s head back.

  “Get out!” Two guys bodily removed them from the building. Wes’s grin widened. Out here, he could do some real damage to the man who’d been getting under his skin for too long.

  With a roar, Wes laid into Druid. They hit the ground, hitting hard enough to send pain shooting through Wes’s shoulder. He rolled to his knees and cocked his fist.

  Stormy wrapped both her hands around his biceps, her restraint like a fly to a bull. But he stopped dead, too afraid to hurt her.