Captured: Hunted Love #3 (8 page)

Rita figured the lane Falon turned them down would probably jiggle her teeth out. The course limestone, not finely crushed rock that would pack like concrete, looked newly spread and maybe six inches deep. The roughly two-inch diameter stones couldn't be easy on a motorcycle.

And she was right. The narrow tires seemed to sink into the surface and make the bike very difficult to maneuver, leaving her feeling very insecure on her seat. However, if Falon noticed any such effect, he gave no indication. So she gritted her teeth to keep them in place and held on a little tighter.

Falon better have taken the right turn, because she sure as hell didn't want to turn around and ride right back out that road. She might just cry if that prospect faced her any time soon.

Finally, it got a little better, after the lane split and Falon took the turn toward a house not too far distant. Damn she couldn't
wait
to get off that bike for more than a few minutes. The constant vibration had quickly gone from novelty to normal, and thankfully Falon's shoulders shielded her from the worst of the wind in her face. Eighty miles an hour for hour after hour after hour made for some serious windburn.

A dusty pickup sat by the house, and Falon stopped beside it. Rita managed to wait until he shut the engine off, but barely. Eager to get her feet on the ground again, she swung off and stretched while Falon locked the ignition and pocketed the key, then followed suit.

"Maybe we should go the barn instead. I didn't think of it, but if Jakob and the lady haven't been found, there's probably no one around the house." He peered intently toward the barn, as if dreading the possible need to get back on the bike that long. Before he had to make the decision, though, the house door opened and a slim cowboy came out.

A hat shaded his face, but even with the distance, the guy's gray hair stood out clearly. He approached, definite caution in every step. "You Falon Harris?"

"I am." Falon head toward the cowboy. "Glad to know I found the right place." He held a hand out.

"I'm Ray, Miss Kate's foreman." The old man accepted Falon's hand and grinned. "Bet that lane's quite a ride on a steel horse."

"Sure is." Falon took a careful look around. "Any word yet on Miss Holt and Jakob?"

"Yeah, they're safe. A couple of the boys I sent out to search for them came across them late yesterday, and they came back in this afternoon. They're inside now. Miss Kate said for you to come on in." He nodded toward the porch door he'd closed carefully. "I'm headed out to the barn, but they can fill you in on everything." Another nod, this time in Rita's direction. "Pardon me, ma'am." He turned for the dusty old truck.

Falon caught her hand and drew her close to his side. "Let's head on inside and find out what's going on."

Rita nodded, swallowing the slight nervousness that had crept up in the last few moments. The thought of meeting someone from Falon's past intimidated her just a little. Instinct made her lean in a little closer, seeking his protection. The realization hit hard and rattled her. She
trusted
him. Had that ever happened before? Had she ever felt safe enough with a man to believe he would shelter her from more than water in the shower? Not that she could remember. She pushed the thought away, impatient. Wrong time, wrong place. It would have to wait for consideration.

Falon opened the wood-framed screen door and stepped up onto the porch while Rita stayed close on his heels. A big female dog shook pups loose and rose to nudge her broad muzzle into his hand. He paused to rub her ears for a moment, then continued on toward the door.

And the whole time, he kept Rita close, his arm over her shoulders. Again, that sense of safety struck her. Any woman lucky enough to become the territory of a man like him would never have to worry about feeling vulnerable. Her initial nervousness had faded into nothing.

Falon glanced down at her, as if aware of her thoughts, and winked. "All good?"

The smile refused to stay invisible. "Yeah, all good."

He planted a little kiss on her forehead, then tapped at the door. A voice responded for them to come in, so he led the way, still keeping Rita close.

They paused just inside a huge kitchen with industrial appliances and a table capable of seating twenty. A small table with four chairs sat off to the side near a window. A man with a bandage on his head sat leaning back in one of the chairs. His gaze clung to a pretty young woman with dark blonde hair and a pronounced limp as she crossed to the big refrigerator.

The girl gave them a bright smile. "Have a seat. Lemonade okay? I'm a bad hostess but thankfully my friend surprised me by dropping off groceries." She worked quickly, adding glasses of ice to the tray with the brimful cut-glass pitcher. "I'm Kate Holt, by the way."

The man at the table smiled. "'Sup, Falon? Figures when trouble comes you'd be right there." He gave Rita a nod. "Ma'am."

Falon introduced himself and Rita, then held a chair for her when they were invited to sit. Seeing him interact with someone he knew well gave her better insight into Falon's character. His usual guardedness had faded, replaced by easy laughter and a joking nature. The real him? Or another way of protecting himself?

Reminding herself they weren't on a social call, she paid careful attention to the discussion as the men exchanged what they knew of the situation facing them.

Falon held her hand in his lap and toyed with her fingers. "What I don't get is why the guy calling the shots sent all the way to Kentucky for hired muscle. Surely there's plenty of guys out here willing to get their hands dirty?"

Jakob Barger nodded. "He went for someone with a grudge against me. I had a little run-in with this guy, Kellen, when I was an MP. We were investigating a drug ring moving pure heroin in military shipments, and it came back to him. Only he had a different name then. It turned out he'd traded places with a soldier on leave for a Permanent Change of Station, and no one knew the difference until Kellen got greedy. Long story short, we got him. He was found guilty and given a long sentence."

He paused and took a long swallow of his lemonade. "But during his transfer to a federal facility, he escaped. There weren't any real details available, since the two officers transporting him were killed in the process. After his trial, he swore to get even with me. I guess someone figured all that out."

Falon cleared his throat. "Yeah, it seems his little brother has some connection to whoever is behind this. And ten-to-one, a Motorcycle Club had something to do with his escape. Kellen's a rough guy. Right now, he's National President of the Brothers of Sin MC. They have control of the lion's share of crime in the Appalachians and they're growing. No one knows for sure how many smaller outlaw MCs are part of the Brothers, but they're everywhere."

"So what do we know about Kellen and the men with him?" Jakob reluctantly released Kate when she rose to answer the phone.

Falon filled him in on the rest of the information he had, then glanced to Rita. "And Rita knows him."

Jakob turned to her, openly assessing. "What can we expect from him?"

Rita shook her head. "I'm not sure. I don't know this side of him. He lives in the same town I do, he and his men are in my tavern regularly. Some of them cause minor trouble, but everyone in Stags Leap just sort of looks the other way. They keep major trouble from coming along, so they can't be too bad, according to the old men who sit at the Liar's Table at the SpeedyServ. So the whole town sort of watches out for them."

"So he plays within most of the rules to keep things friendly at home? And he gets a whole town to watch his back?" Jakob nodded a little. "Really smart."

Kate leaned forward. "I don't know about all of you, but I'm starving, and I don't profile criminals well on an empty stomach. I'm going to go see what I can get together for dinner." She leaned in to give Jakob a quick kiss, but as she withdrew, he slipped one hand behind her neck and drew her back to him. The kiss Jakob and Kate exchanged placed their raw emotion on full display.

Uncomfortable with the intimate display, Rita looked away, but her gaze refused to go anywhere except Falon's face. He seemed to have the same issue. He watched her mouth intently, and his own lips parted. Suddenly, the need to taste him became overwhelming. Mesmerized, she leaned in and Falon met her more than half way.

His breath warmed her lips seconds before the silky touch of his mouth sent heat flashing through her. And then the world fell away and nothing mattered except his kisses. She gave a little moan of protest when he drew away and their surroundings came rushing back.

Kate seemed to have regained some of her composure. "Uh, yeah, dinner." She headed for the refrigerator.

"Let me help." The last thing Rita needed was to sit there next to Falon and struggle against the mindless temptation to touch him. "What can I do?"

Kate glanced back and smiled. "Help me find something easy and quick. I'm a little challenged in the kitchen and I still need to hire a new housekeeper. Until then, unless someone else cooks it, there's cold cuts."

Finally. "Don't worry, cooking is one thing I do very well. I was starting to worry I would just be dead weight in all this."

Kate let her shoulders drop a little. "Thank heavens." She stepped back a little and indicated the stove and refrigerator with a grand gesture and a contagious smile. "All yours."

A sudden wave of nerves struck. What if the others didn't like the kinds of things she cooked? She'd learned how to do all the fancy stuff in her culinary arts classes, but she was out of practice. All she needed at the Rattlesnake was good home cooking and plenty of it.

Kate must have sensed the anxiety. "Don't worry, sweetie. I'm sure those two would eat anything that doesn't eat them first. And as long as it's not raw fish, I'm good. No need to get fancy or anything."

She was right of course. "Thanks, Kate. I haven't cooked for anyone but customers in a while. I got a little worried for a second."

Kate grinned. "Sweetie, if you have people paying to eat your cooking, you have nothing at all to worry about."

Reassured, Rita took a quick accounting of the fridge and cupboards. "Meatloaf sound okay?"

"Meatloaf? Absolutely. I love meatloaf. What can I do to help?"

"If you'll chop the celery and onions, I'll get the rest of it going." Plan in place, Rita quickly familiarized herself with the kitchen and got started. With Kate's help, she had the meatloaf ready for the oven in just a few moments and moved on to the side dishes.

Kate kept up a steady stream of small talk, asking questions and sharing things about herself and the ranch. Rita happily shared about the pony she'd had as a child and that mutual love of horses formed a bond between the two women. By the time the meal was over, Rita had decided she really liked Kate.

She cleared the last of the leftovers from the table just as Kate yawned. "From the sounds of it, you've had a long few days. I'll clean up and you two can go ahead and turn in."

With very little argument, Kate agreed and showed Rita through the house quickly, then she and Jakob disappeared. Falon insisted on drying the dishes while Rita washed them and turned it into a game. He dried a plate and put it away before she had the next one ready. To occupy himself, he tormented her by nibbling at her earlobe or along her neck. Finally, in spite of the distractions, the dishes were finished and the kitchen back in order. Rita pressed her knuckles into the small of her back and stretched, trying to ease the painful tightness.

Falon noticed and drew her close to run his hands down her back spreading magical warmth through tired muscles. "Let's get a shower and get to bed?"

He didn't have to ask twice. Rita led the way to the bathroom. He had them undressed and standing under the hot spray in record time and bent to kiss her. Between the incredible feel of his body and the relaxing spray on her skin, she gave herself over to the heat threatening to take over.

Falon cupped his hands under her ass and lifted, allowing her to bring her legs up and around his waist. She hovered just a second, relishing the pressure of his hard-on against her opening, the lowered herself on him.

Kellen had to hand it to him. Blackwell knew how to be a host. Just after their talk, he went back to the house in his damn golf cart—Kellen couldn't get over that shit—and almost immediately a man returned in it, with the back half full of food. Prime steaks, vegetables, casseroles, and several cases of beer. A second golf cart appeared with a huge gas grill loaded in the back. In a matter of minutes, the mother of all cookouts was underway.

And none of it helped Kellen's mood the least little bit. If not for the damn money Blackwell offered, he'd be on his bike on the way back home. But the Hell Raider's bank accounts could use the hundred K he'd offered for satisfactory completion of the job. So, come hell or high water, Kellen would do the thing, and do it right. No matter how distasteful he found the idea.

The worst part was losing the opportunity for revenge against Barger. Even though he'd never acted on the need, it had always been there, burning in the back of his mind. Losing even the possibility set off an explosive anger that threatened to consume him and anyone in his path.

He needed to get his mind on something else before he killed the first person who spoke to him. A call from Vicky seemed the only thing capable of distracting him. Except in a slightly uncharacteristic thing, he'd rather wait for darkness and privacy. What the hell was that about? He'd never cared before who saw him engage in any sexual act. But talking with Vicky…that was different.

He grabbed a beer and wandered through the Raider camp, stopping to talk to one of the men occasionally. Overall, they seemed satisfied with the deal he'd made. A couple weren't any more thrilled than he was about the target being a woman. He might be a lot of things, but he left women and kids out of his shit.

Trip passed, headed toward the beer coolers. "Hey boss. 'Sup?"

"Not much, man. Just thinking about this job."

"Oh yeah? Not liking it so much, huh?" Trip probably knew him better than any of the other men in the club. They'd been friends since something like Kindergarten.

"Nah, not so much." Kellen flipped the butt of his cigarette in the general direction of the fire. "Tempted to walk away, but the club could use the money." He could trust Trip's counsel, and had many times before.

"Yeah we could. And we came a long way to get it. I'd say if you'd rather bow out, let whichever boys are okay to just go ahead with it." Trip gave his big trademark grin. "Now, 'scuse me, but there's a beer and a big T-bone over there with my name on it." He headed off toward the beer and food.

Kellen shook his head. That answer should have been obvious, but trust him to miss the thing right in front of his face when anger got in the way. Trip always cut straight to the heart of it, though. The bastard should have been voted VP instead of Hack, but he'd refused the nomination, preferring to remain just a voting member.

Maybe he could read until things settled down enough to call Vicky. He grabbed his bedroll and found a likely looking spot and settle down. The psychology text was dry reading, but he persisted. Knowing how the human mind worked gave him a big edge in dealing with others, and in his game, he needed every advantage he could get. After a while though, he found himself re-reading the same paragraph over and over.

"Hey, Kellen!" Hack's voice cut through all the camp noise with no problem. He stood at the other side of the camp, speaking with Blackwell.

When had that fucker come down from the house? Kellen was slipping for someone to walk right into their camp and him not even realize it. Annoyed, he got to his feet and headed over there. What could the idiot possibly want now? Probably wanted to try and party with the outlaws, like a few memorized lines from
Sons of Anarchy
would give him cred or something. Dumb bastard.

Kellen reached where Blackwell stood, still in his wannabe gangster garb, but looking incredibly uncomfortable this time. "You need something?"

"Uh, yeah. Well, I have news you probably need to hear."

The man's stammer annoyed the fuck out of Kellen. "Well, spit it out. What you waiting for?"

Blackwell shuffled a little, adjusted his fake cut, then cleared his throat. "Well, it seems my information was incorrect."

Okay, now he had Kellen's interest. "What information?" Was he going to have to pry it out of the bastard one word at a time? Sure seemed that way.

"About Barger. My man has confirmed it. Barger is still alive and at Miss Holt's house."

Well okay then. "How'd that happen? I thought you shot him dead? That's what you said anyway." Men bragged about achievements and that was okay, but outright lying about something like killing a man? No fucking way he could let that pass.

Blackwell stared at the ground for a minute, shuffled his feet some more and edged a little further away from Kellen. "I guess I stretched the truth a little there. I sent one of my men to watch and take the first opportunity at putting him down. The man went out before I sent for you, so he had no way of knowing there was a hold on killing Barger. He found the chance and took it. Apparently, Kellen was hit in the head, but it was only a graze. Miss Holt got him back to the ranch somehow and he's going to be okay."

Kellen saw red. His fist snapped out before he even realized and connected with Blackwell's chin. The fucker dropped like a sack of bricks, out cold.

Kellen turned to find Hack standing by. "Wake that stupid fucker up and send him packing. Tell him if he ever lies to me again, I'll kill him." He stomped away, then returned. "And tell him the price just doubled. No negotiation. The job
will
be done now, whether he wants it to or not."

He walked, not paying attention to where he went. Nothing mattered except getting as far from that bastard as possible before he killed him. They wouldn't get paid if the man writing the check was dead.

His mind raced, concocting and discarding plans with every step. If Barger was at the woman's ranch, they had to get him out in the open, and her too. Laying siege to a civilian house wasn't something the community would tolerate, and sooner or later, someone would find out.

How could he guarantee Barger and the woman left the relative safety of the ranch? What was important enough to either of them to risk it? Especially now that Blackwell had alerted them that someone wanted at least Barger dead. Another blast of anger shot through him. Fucking idiot made the job ten times more complicated that it needed to be.

He walked more and thought more, examining his options. The only thing likely important enough to the woman was her prize horses. She'd shelled out nicely for a hunter to protect them, plus putting herself at risk.

Finally, a plan began to take shape. He knew what to do and they could start in the morning.

Satisfied, he turned and headed back for camp. Damn, he'd walked most of a mile, up along the tree line. Rather than waste the time, he dug his phone out and slowed his step. He'd need to be careful in the fading light anyway. Not like he could torture Barger with a broken leg.

He clicked Vicky's name in his contacts list, and waited for her to pick up.

"What took you so long, Baby? I thought you might have found another pussy to take care of you."

His dick woke up immediately and forced him to adjust his jeans. "No, little girl, just business shit I had to handle. And right now, I'm not too interested in any other pussy." Fuck, why'd he have to tell her the truth?

"That's good. I'd hate to have to hurt some bitch for touching what's mine." She laughed a little. "What are you doing?"

He couldn't hold back the grin. She considered him her property, at least for the time being. Instead of pissing him off like any sign of possessiveness from another bitch would, it kind of made him feel good. "I'm taking a walk. Had to get away from the boys before I killed someone."

"Things that bad?" Her voice wrapped around him in a wave of comfort.

"Not really. I'm just pissed at the guy giving the orders and the whole situation. The sooner this job is done and we're headed for home, the better." What the hell was wrong with him? He never talked business with a woman. Ever. Bitches were good for one thing, and one thing only, and most of them weren't great at that either, all fake porn flick shit. Vicky wouldn't be that way. No, she'd be all into it. His dick gave another surge at the thought. "Enough of that shit. What are you wearing?"

She gave that low laugh of hers that sent sparks along his whole nervous system. "I'm not wearing anything now. I got rid of my dress when I saw your number come up."

"Good. Where are you?" Fuck, he wanted that hot luscious body laid out for him.

"I'm in my room, on my bed, ready for you." She moaned a little. "My pussy is all wet, waiting."

"Fuck!" He dropped to the ground right where he stood and yanked his jeans open. "You got my cock all hard just thinking about it. I want you to touch yourself, tell me everything you do, everything you feel. Bring yourself off for me." He slid his hand up his shaft, anxious for her words.

She made a little noise, more like a kitten than a woman. "I'm playing with my nipple. It's so hard, waiting for your mouth. I want you to suck and bite me."

His turn to groan. "You're killing me, little girl. Tell me more." He lay back on the ground as his hips arched into a massive thrust.

She talked, describing in detail everything she did and everything she wanted him to do. That voice of hers was enough to drive any man crazy, and saying things like that, well, it didn't take him long to reach the point of no return.

Best of all, those little sounds she made when her fingers sank into her wet heat. She drew them both to the very edge and kept them there until he thought his head would explode.

Finally she gave a harsh cry and said the magic words. He came, hard, growling her name as his semen hit his belly.

Afterward, he lay there, catching his breath and listening to her do the same. What the hell was wrong with him, beating off like a teenager while a girl talked dirty on the phone? Hell, he didn't think he'd even done that as a kid. Yet again, Nickelback's
Animals
ran through his head.

"When will you be home?" Her voice was softer, lazy sounding.

"In a few days. I want this done and over with fast. Why?"

"Because I want to know how long I'm going to have to wait for you to fuck me for real."

Lord help him, those words made him want to get on his bike and head straight for home that very instant. "It'll be as soon as I can get there. I'll call you when I'm on the way. I want you waiting for me, wearing something sexy so I can unwrap the package. And when I get there, I'll make sure you forget everything else." He went on to describe his plans while she brought herself to a second orgasm.

Full dark had fallen by the time he ended the call and climbed to his feet. He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply as he started back for camp. He would cut the beer off and explain the plan and tell the boys to turn in. They would have to get an early start, and with any luck, in twenty-four hours, he would be on his way back to Vicky.

When he got there, he'd take a week off, just to fuck her and get her out of his system. He couldn't afford that kind of distraction, so he'd have to make good and sure to get all of her he could stand. Then life could go back to normal.