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Authors: Running Scared

Billi Jean (29 page)

BOOK: Billi Jean
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“Ah, that’s it, that’s it.” He pinned her head down with a fist in her hair and mounted her, driving into her ass like he owned it. He did. It was his—clean, pure and all his. She screamed in pain. He rammed his cock in all the way to the root, then began a punishing fuck that had him coming in seconds.

The job could wait. He was on his own, and no one told him when to satisfy his lusts. No one. He took her three more times before he pulled the truck out of the bush he’d hidden it in. By then, she was so exhausted she nestled her head on his lap, her hand limp on his crotch where he’d placed it, telling her she had an hour before he needed her again. Missions made his naturally high needs higher.

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

 

 

Lacey had the feeling that Major Russ Ryland was not here for woodcutting. They hadn’t got around to any of the fallen trees on her property before the roundup, and in the days after, the blissful days of sex and more sex, they’d not done much more than learn every inch of each other’s body.

Oh, and in his bed, too. For over a week. It’d been fun. His nephew and uncle were out of town, so they’d had the place pretty much to themselves. Well, other than some hired hands that Russell didn’t even like in the same room with her, but other than that? They’d got along like they’d known each other for years, not weeks.

He’d even backed off asking her questions. And, for Russell, that was a big deal, and she knew it. He liked answers, and he was used to getting them. It made her smile to remember how easily she could distract him from his mini-interrogations. Sometimes all it took was her biting her lip, giving him a stare like she wanted to lick him from top to bottom, and he’d get a glazed look on his face. Immediately, the third degree would end. Actually,
conversation
would end. For hours.

Now they were back at her place, because she had a meeting in town tomorrow and he was going with her. She smiled, remembering that conversation. Or lack of conversation, since he’d grunted something male and all husky in her ear and talked dirty to her about getting a room in town for the night. And what he’d do to her when they got the room. Yep, her man was all about making her scream.

Her man
. She had to wonder if that wasn’t exactly what Russell Ryland wanted. She could have told him he had his target caught, tagged and claimed, but everything between them was so new, and, heck, it was a lot of fun just sitting next to him. Forget Lay’s potato chips—Russell put a whole new spin on that phrase ‘you can’t stop at just one’. It would have frightened her how often she wanted to have sex with him, if he hadn’t wanted her just as often.

But right now, this man cutting wood for her was all about something altogether different than the sexy, demanding lover who could take her places she’d never known existed. No, Russell was giving all the signs of a man trying to insert himself into her life.

It was amazing. And exciting. And slightly scary. He was a full-grown warrior. And now he was hers.

He was used to command. That had been apparent the first day she’d met him. And now, watching him with the chainsaw, she had to wonder what he thought he was going to control when it came to her.

He was intense. He knew exactly where she was almost every minute they were together. He didn’t smother her with attention; instead he did his own thing. But she was certain she could blindfold Russell and he would not only be able to find her and scoop her up like a feather, but he’d also be able to carry her straight to bed without running into anything.

He was also intimidating. The day had turned warm, the late Indian summer a welcome treat after a few days of chilly mornings and even chillier nights. Russell had taken off his big Carhartt jacket, so naturally she soaked up the sight of his broad shoulders and tight biceps under his black T-shirt. He was lean and mean, so big compared to her. She knew if he wanted her to do something and she didn’t, he could very easily
make
her. But he never would. Russell would never force her to do anything—well, except take him with her when she went to Spokane, but that wasn’t really forcing, since she wanted him to go. But still, Russell was something she couldn’t get enough of, and that scared her. What if he was setting up a place in her life for him, but only for some temporary fun? What if this was him killing time?

A cloud passed over the sun, and the warmth of the day dissipated a little. Russell wiped a forearm over his brow. He had to be hot, even in a T-shirt. The way he was cutting up the wood he had to be working up a sweat. He took her in carefully, glancing over her as if to assess whether she was still sitting where he’d said to without moving.

She stood to get him to turn the chainsaw off. They needed a break—her from sitting, and him from all the wood cutting, she thought. He’d cut the engine on the saw almost before her boots hit the ground. She dragged the huge ear mufflers he’d made her wear off. Her little ear buds hadn’t been enough. He’d given her that cute little disapproving grimace she was beginning to enjoy causing, and had taken the ear buds out and handed her these. They were kinda bulky, but she couldn’t have heard a rocket if it had blasted off next to her. The chainsaw didn’t stand a chance.

Yeah, Russell was a bit overprotective. She looked down at her boots to hide her silly smile because Russell did have issues, and with more than just her safety. If she was insecure, well, there were reasons for that. Russell hadn’t said a word about what he was feeling, or if he was feeling anything at all. And he was too dominating and bossy. But at least he’d backed down from questioning her so much about why she was here or, worse, what he felt she was afraid of.

Glancing back up, she felt colour heat her cheeks at the reasons why he’d not kept up his questioning. He’d been too busy with other things. ‘Other things’ meaning sex to die for, which she encouraged every chance she got.

She watched him saunter over, trying her best to keep from getting breathless from simply watching him walk. Russell, he didn’t just walk. He reminded her of some big, sleek wild cat. Sexy.

“I’m going to start stacking all this wood,” she told him clearly, not missing him tensing those big shoulders or the way his face tightened. His beautiful jaw clenched, a muscle in his cheek ticked, then he smoothed it out. His grey eyes darkened, but he nodded.

Good boy
, she wanted to say. Instead, she smiled up at him. “And make some lunch, don’t you think…?” She trailed off when they heard his cell phone ringing.

“Fuck.”

“Russell…”

Bending down, he scooped her up, kissed her hard and fast, and set her back down with a grin. “Gotta get this. How about that lunch?”

She rolled her eyes at him, watching his grin grow. He seemed to enjoy riling her. With another brief kiss, he draped a big arm around her shoulder and answered his phone. “Yeah, Wolf Man, what’s up?”

She really needed to get him some friends that weren’t SEALs. No doubt this guy was one of them. They’d all used those call signs and still went by them now, even after they were out of the military. Russell let her go to open the door and nodded for her to go in while he stayed outside. He looked worried. The frown he’d always worn when they’d first met was back.

A shiver of fear raced along her arms. She hadn’t felt fear since Russell had come over that first night. Not really. How could she? He was with her every second of the day and night. Suddenly realising exactly how much time they’d been spending together, she peeked back outside, watching him. Weeks of non-stop time. Almost every second. What if he had to leave?

The chill deepened.

Russell grimaced and ran a hand over his short hair. He didn’t look happy. Not even close to happy. He gestured and said something else as their eyes caught. His handsome face tightened before he turned his back to her and gestured some more. Rubbing his jaw he clipped his phone shut and turned back to her.

Another chill raced over her at his cold expression. She looked down, only then realising her hands were clutching the kitchen counter so tight her knuckles were white. He was leaving. She knew it before he walked in through the back door.

“Baby, don’t. Don’t look so upset.” He pulled her back into his arms, enveloping her in his warm scent. Bending his head, he rested it on her shoulder, turning to brush kisses along her jaw.

“You have to go.”

“Yeah, I have to go help a buddy. He’s in a bind, needs some help.”

She turned in his arms, saw his worried expression, and her heart tightened. His grey eyes, eyes she’d grown used to seeing lighten with laughter or darken with desire, were clouded with worry. Over leaving? Or over her reaction? Did he think she’d demand he not go?

Confusion made her chill feel like it was covering her in ice. “Yep, I understand.” He might not be in the SEALs any longer, but he was still part of a team. “You’ll be careful?”

He watched her closely for a heartbeat before bending down to rest his forehead on hers, gazing deeply into her eyes. Her heart skipped a beat, almost in slow motion, then thudded back to a slow pace.

 “Yeah, I’ll be careful.” He leant forward and kissed her softly, a warm, wonderful kiss that warmed some of the chill from her heart. Slowly pulling away, he met her eyes again and said, “I want you to stay at the ranch.”

The sneaky rat!
Indignant, she glared up at him and pushed against his chest. He didn’t budge and he didn’t smile, either.

“Susan, I want you safe. I don’t want you scared. Mitchell will be home today, you can stay—”

“Russell, I am not staying at your ranch with your uncle. I’ve never met him and that would just be too embarrassing. I’m not a child.”

“I didn’t say you were. It wouldn’t be embarrassing—”

“It would. I’m staying here. I have to go to Spokane, and you know it. I’m going there, having my meeting, driving home, and staying here.”

If a man could growl, Russell would have. She felt him tense—all those muscles she admired, loved to trace with her fingers and her mouth, bulged. And not in a sexy, ‘come on, let’s have fun’ way, but in a threatening way—at least, for a brief second, then she struggled with him until he let her go. It felt odd. He’d never let her go before, and for one twisted moment she wanted him to drag her right back into his arms, but he didn’t.

She pushed the budding panic down. She wasn’t losing him; he was simply going away for a few days.

“How long?”

He sighed heavily but didn’t touch her. She felt it, the lack of it, like something had slid up and divided them.

“A few weeks. Six at the most.”

Six weeks?
Oh, my God.
Six weeks without Russell? All of a sudden the panic was unbearable. Opening the refrigerator, she started pulling out sandwich fixings—lunch meat they’d bought, the mustard Russell loved, lettuce, tomato, the Provolone cheese he’d got for her, and with a sucked in breath she shut the door and faced him. He was watching her, his big body leaning against the counter. He looked relaxed, but his jaw flexed twice while she simply stared back at him.

“When do you have to leave?”

“Now. He has a plane for me in a couple hours. Two.”

Two hours? It was more than an hour to Spokane. It was…

“Susan, I want you to wait for me.”

Her eyes jerked to his at that. Wait for him? What did that mean?

He took a drink of Coke and set it down, too carefully in her opinion. He was avoiding her eyes, she thought with a stab of fear. Was he leaving her for good?

Finally meeting her eyes, he said, “If you want to, I mean. I might be gone longer, might be shorter. I can’t call, though. I won’t be able to.”

Wait for him? “What do you mean?”

He took the sandwich things out of her hands and turned her to face him. Hands on her shoulders, he stared down at her for a long, painful minute before suddenly hauling her into his arms and kissing her. His firm, warm lips were demanding, frantic almost. His delicious taste filled her, slightly sweet from his Coke, spicy from him, and so hot, so very hot. She clung to him. She knew she was holding on too tight, but couldn’t stop the desperate panic drowning her. She fought the tears, tightening her throat and refusing to let them fall from her closed eyes. She was not going to have him remember her with tears in her eyes. She was going to give him this, a hot, sexy goodbye if she could.

Before she knew it, he’d swept her up into his arms and stomped down to her bedroom. The door hit the wall again, reminding her of that first day he’d barely been able to reach her bedroom. Seconds later, he was stripping off her shirt and unbuttoning her jeans, dragging them down so fast they left burn marks. With a low sound he fisted his T-shirt behind his neck and pulled it off. Her hands trembled with urgency to touch him. She needed him, wanted to taste him once more. She unzipped him and dragged his erection out, not even bothering with anything more. Dropping to her knees, she shoved him back on the bed and he went, groaning with need. His cock was swollen, the beautiful head split and beaded with a drop of pre-cum.

“Damn, baby, suck me. Show me again.”

She didn’t wait for more. Rising up on her knees, she cupped his erection, slid down the thick length with one hand and sucked the rounded head into her mouth, laving it with her tongue as his flavour filled her mouth. He groaned so loudly it made her wet and achy.

She devoured him, sucking and stroking his flesh until he was panting, subtly thrusting his hips, his big hands fisted in her hair. She opened up, trying to swallow him whole, ignoring her gag reflex to give him this last memory of her. He cursed and tensed his muscles so tight his erection jerked in her mouth. She loved the flavour of him, the scent of his musky maleness and the way he reacted to everything she did to him. When she swallowed, he groaned raggedly. When she moved her mouth back to swirl her lips over the thick head, he cursed and tugged her hair.

“Holy hell. Ah, fuck. Baby. Let me, baby?”

She wasn’t sure what he wanted, but she met his eyes and slid him out. Resting her hand on his thigh, she nodded.

BOOK: Billi Jean
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