Bounty (Hunted Love Book 2) (6 page)

The woman and her man went on with life, taking as many precautions as possible, and two days before, they'd been married. They were in Stags Leap for their honeymoon, visiting the husband's ancestral home. The nuptials seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back and sent the gym rat back to physical aggression.

Falon catalogued the information for future reference. The gym rat had mentioned Kellen's motorcycle club, and implied the outlaw was his sibling. He needed to check the file, because he hadn't noticed anything about siblings or other family members. The other implication about Kellen could not be considered at the moment. He would need to analyze that bit of intel privately.

Finally the couple seemed finished talking, and Rita bade them farewell, and turned to Falon with a smile. "Ready to continue that walk?"

The tip of her tongue swept her lower lip, instantly sending Falon back to her apartment to taste that tender mouth again. A growl threatened to erupt and containing it prevented speech, so he had to settle for a very deliberate nod.

Rita took his arm, letting her fingers play delicately along the inside of his bicep and sending waves of desire straight to his cock. She led him back through the tavern, not bothering to hide her intent from anyone who cared to look.

When she stopped to exchange greetings for the fourth time, impatience surged through him. "Say goodnight, Rita, let's go."

She glanced up with a mischievous smile and nod, then took a more direct route toward the kitchen and the rear door.

***             

Rita concentrated on navigating to the back of the kitchen, and not trembling in reaction. She hated any time trouble erupted in the Rattlesnake, but that incident hadn't been one of the normal things that happened when people were drinking and dancing and having a good time. Not a couple of drunks fighting over a woman, or a catfight, or some clumsy drunk spilling a drink on another.

No, that bastard had been a whole other breed of trouble, and his reference to her past and the Hell Raiders could mean only one thing… He was Tom Kellen's brother. The very idea sent ice water trickling down her spine and she failed to hold in the resulting shiver.

Falon noticed and slid his arm around her shoulders. "Cold?"

She let herself lean into the shelter he offered, just for a moment. "Maybe a little." A twinge of guilt settled in her gut. She shouldn't be taking comfort, even just the physical kind, in him. Not when neither of them had intentions beyond a few shared nights.

He drew her closer to his side, into the protective warmth of his body, freely giving that comfort. "I'm a pretty good listener, you know."

"I have no doubt." She laughed a little, part of her extremely uncomfortable at his perceptiveness. "But what makes you think I need someone to listen? I don't even really know you."

The chuckle he gave sounded good, a mixture of humor and understanding and totally absent of the derision most men would mix into the expression. "Rita, everyone can use a good listener, whether they realize it or not. Especially a woman who just gave the order to deliver a serious ass-kicking to a guy who could be really dangerous." He shrugged a little, pulling her even closer for a second. "I'm not prying, okay?"

Something about the tone of his voice drew her gaze up, to search his face. Beard shadow darkened his jaw, giving him a slightly scruffy appearance, despite the almost military haircut and close-trimmed goatee. "Okay. Not like there's anything to pry about anyway."

"Come on, let's finish that walk we sorta started earlier." The pressure of his arm about her shoulders guided her out into the parking lot. "No need to get in a rush about things."

A little band of apprehension loosened, just slightly, from around her spine. He didn't seem in any kind of hurry to get back to where they left off, and she really needed to clear her head before she could do anything about the throbbing ache between her legs. "Good idea." She led him toward the outer edge of the lot, to the smoothed area where she and a couple of the girls sometimes walked for exercise. "Tell me what really brings you to Stags Leap?"

Did his muscles stiffen, just a little? "I really am just passing through. I like the area, thought I might spend a few days before I move on again."

"Why?"

"Why?"

"Why passing through? Surely you're headed somewhere, with some purpose?"

Okay, the stiffening was unmistakable that time. So what was he hiding? "Not really. I… I used to be married, and in the Army, like I said earlier. I came off deployment to find my sweet wife had found comfort in the arms of another man. Got out at the end of my enlistment, and hit the road." He paused for a moment and she thought he wasn't going to say anything more, but then he took a deep breath. "Now, I guess you could say I'm running from some deep, bad shit, all left over from some rough deployments and a bitch of a wife. My headlight makes a pretty good compass. I go whichever way it points, stop when I'm tired, and occasionally hang around a little while if a place appeals to me."

Rita winced in sympathy at the pain in his voice. The man had obviously gone through hell and back. "Some women are just bitches, I guess." There really wasn't anything else to say. His ex had to be an idiot of some kind, in addition to cold and heartless. "So, why Stags Leap? Nobody comes here if they can help it." Whatever his reason, she had to admit, she was glad he'd picked the Rattlesnake to stop and ask about motels in the area.

***

God, he hated answering questions about himself. Telling Rita about Chelsea had put a decided limpness in his mood. Thinking about her never failed to work far better than a cold shower. And now Rita wanted to know again why he'd come to Stags Leap, and she was too smart to settle for the bullshit answers he generally gave to that kind of question. So what the hell was he going to tell her?

She still waited, looking up at him occasionally, a small frown in residence between her elegant brows. A mild breeze stirred the darkness, bringing slight relief to the midsummer humidity, and carrying her scent to him again, reminding him of what they'd been about to do.

"Falon?" The impatience he'd expected still didn't taint her voice. Nothing there but concern. Hmm.

The general habit of honesty he'd always had pressed him to be as truthful as he possibly could, without giving away the things he needed to keep secret. "Sometimes people ask me to find things for them."

That frown deepened a little. "Find things? Or find people?"

"That too."

"So… What? Like tracking down runaways?"

He shrugged again. "Sometimes. Other times, messages need to be delivered, or someone needs to be brought home. I've delivered paperwork a few times. Stuff like that."

"This is what you do for work?" Sincerity shone from those blue eyes, like she genuinely wanted to know.

Another shrug drew her closer. Damn, he needed to break that habit. It could become a giveaway in a vital moment, and reveal a thought or weakness to a rival. In this business, that was something he couldn't afford. "You could look at it that way. But it's really more a diversion, I suppose. A way to stay the fuck out of my own head and think about other people and their situations. It gives me something to think about besides my own shitty stuff, and long periods of being alone, which is also good, since I'm rarely fit company for anyone."

She smiled a little and let her arm loop around his waist. "I guess that makes sense. At least a little."

The little breeze returned long enough to lift a small lock of her hair and bring it to brush against his neck in a faint tickle. The sensation brought images roaring into his head. Images of the two of them amid tangled sheets, with all that black silk wrapped about them in a kind of mystical binding. A strong mental kick in the ass dislodged that image, but did nothing for the renewed throbbing pulse in his cock.

The further they walked, the more the noise and music from the Rattlesnake receded, leaving them alone with the scent of honeysuckle hanging in the warm air, along with undertones of vehicle exhaust and asphalt cooling from the sun's heat. The security lighting around the parking lot focused more in the opposite direction, leaving them with only dim illumination.

"What's over there?" He gestured toward the row of lights, dim with distance, beyond the overgrown field bordering the parking lot.

Her shoulders lifted slightly in her own version of a shrug. "I'm not sure. Those lights aren't always there, and they don't seem to match with any houses or anything. I've never bothered to take the time to find out."

Hmm. Finding out what those lights came from suddenly seemed like a pretty good idea. Especially if someone who knew the area as presumably well as Rita had no idea where they came from. "Interested in checking it out with me?" As soon as the invitation hit the air, Falon realized the mistake, but it was too late.

She came to a standstill and turned to face him, staring up. "Why would you want to do that?"

He forced a slow smile and raised one eyebrow. "Seemed like a good idea. Something wrong?"

She smiled back a little. "No, of course not. People who aren't from here usually don't bother being curious about anything that goes on here. And I'm not all that used to being invited to do much of anything either." One hand raised to allow a delicate fingertip to brush the center of his lower lip. "What all did you have planned, exactly? And when would this adventure happen?"

Heat roared through him at her touch, ready and willing to pick up where they'd left off when the shotgun had boomed. "I was sort of thinking tonight, now, just to ride out there and see. It might be fun." The thought of her behind him on his Harley set a crazy pulse pounding at the base of his throat.

Rita studied him for a long moment, probably figuring out how to refuse and still be nice. "Okay."

"Okay?"

Her smile dazzled for a moment. "Yeah, okay. As in, yes, I'd like to go."

He'd made a fool of himself with that, and didn't even really mind. "Okay, then. Ready?"

She nodded and let him take her hand and lead her toward his bike, only to halt when the destination vehicle became unmistakable. "Wait, you're on a motorcycle?"

Shit. "Yeah. Is that a problem?"

Calculation narrowed her eyes a little, and the dim security lighting created a sort of optical illusion to make them appear closed, reminding him how she looked under his kisses. "No, of course not, just a surprise. I guess I expected a pickup truck or muscle car instead." She started walking again.

While he dug his spare helmet out from where he'd strapped it to the rear fender, Rita separated her masses of hair and braided it in swift movements with a tidy result. The extra lid was clean, thanks to the little cover that protected it, even if it hadn't been worn in a very long while.

Falon swung astride the bike and started it, then waited for her to climb on. She hesitated only the briefest moment, then slid up snug, allowing those gorgeous breasts to flatten themselves against his back. The heat of her thighs around his hips send another blast of wanting through him.

She wrapped her arms around, but let her hands drop to his thighs, right up close and personal.

Uh oh.

Riding with Rita seemed like a very interesting prospect.

***

His scent was the first thing she noticed, that same spicy cologne from earlier in the evening, just not as strong. Combined with soap and laundry detergent from his shirt, the effect was a strange mixture of intoxicating and comforting.

The heat made itself known next, seeping first through his shirt and hers, and then into her skin. Her nipples hardened in pure reflex, reacting to the play of muscles under that t-shirt they pressed against. It wasn't at all difficult to plaster herself against him and hang on to enjoy the ride. In fact, the only hardship lay in restraining her explorations for the time being.

Vibration from the bike's engine worked its way up the base of her spine and sent tendrils to touch every sensitive area of her body, kindling little fires all along the way. Falon's every movement, no matter how small, stoked those flames until a raging inferno threatened to consume her. She only barely managed to hang onto her composure by promising herself she would taste all of him later.

Between her thighs, Falon moved a little as he guided them onto the old County Road out of Stags Leap, headed toward where the row of lights seemed to come from.

Falon leaned them into Diggers Curve, just half a mile from the Rattlesnake, then straightened the bike out and laid on the throttle to carry them screaming through the night, the engine's roar echoing between the sandstone cliffs and the River. The eight-mile straight-stretch ended in the series of narrow curves that led upward and into the hills, out of the river valley.

Rita signaled Falon when they approached the turn onto Carliss Road, which should take them toward the row of lights. He slowed for the turn, and in the decreased engine noise, she warned him of the loose gravel they would be on soon. Road rash was an experience she had no desire to repeat.

Carliss Road, covered with limestone gravel at this point, wound along the slope of a hill, through a heavy forest that contained the bike's engine noise and redirected it into a thrumming pulse that hung between the trees. At the top of the hill, the road became even narrower and left the cover of the forest for a short distance. The silvery glow of the limestone faded and went dark, replaced by sandstone creek gravel, packed into a hard, mostly solid, surface by the weight of log trucks and farm equipment.

Heading downhill, Falon slowed the bike so that they nearly coasted, without a great deal of noise, until they returned to the muffling cover of a forested area. Halfway down, the forest thinned and Falon slowed as they moved onto a small plateau that offered a view of the narrow valley spread below. He cut the motor and studied the scene in silence.

The Rattlesnake was clearly visible, and beyond it, the rest of Stags Leap, and a curve of the River. A barge made its way upstream, the throb of its engines rolling from side to side off the hills, and masking the sound of the freight train running parallel on the River's opposite bank.

Closer, on the near side of a forested strip, a series of a dozen bulbs hung suspended from poles. Several small campfires, each with a few people sitting or rolled into blankets beside them, burned to one side of the lit area. And in the center of the strung lights, a series of long tables were laid out, each with a number of unidentifiable items spread across them, and all with two to three people standing over them.

"Fuck." Falon sucked in a sharp breath. "Ready? We need to get out of here."

Rita shrugged. This certainly hadn't been the romantic night ride she'd expected. "What's wrong?"

He started the engine but stayed off the throttle. "Forget what you saw down there, forget we rode out this way, and if you're religious, pray we get out of here without getting caught."

***