Bounty (Colorado Mountain #7) Page 28

  Her, “You’re right, honey,” came instantly.

  But now her voice sounded choked and Deke cut a glance her way to see she was fighting back laughter.

  “I say something funny?” he asked the road when he aimed his eyes to it again.

  “I’ve actually never heard the adjective ‘Darwinian’ used that way.”

  “Right,” he clipped. With her humor back, deciding to put a line under that bullshit, he asked, “Now we goin’ to get you a TV, some beer, hittin’ the trailer to get our shit, hittin’ your house, settin’ up that mother, ordering pizza and kicking back with a movie?”

  “Yes, Deke, that’s what we’re doing.”

  “You’re right, that’s what we’re doin’,” he muttered irritably.

  “I’m out of Baby Ruth bars,” she shared.

  “We’ll get some of those too.”

  “What’s your favorite candy bar?” she asked, now sounding just curious.

  “That question is moot ’cause candy is candy and by definition it’s all awesome. Unless it has coconut in it. Then it sucks.”

  “Right, no Mounds or Almond Joy, but I’ve got a taste for those new Butterfinger Cups. They’re like Reese’s Cups, just Butterfinger. And they’re so good, I think they’ve redefined awesome. So much so, I’m thinking of starting a letter-writing campaign for all candy bars to be made into cups. Baby Ruth Cups. 100 Grand Cups. Snickers Cups. KitKat Cups.”

  “Gypsy, I already talked about little dogs and their sweaters with you today. I got a cap on how much ridiculous shit I can discuss in a week and that blew right past that cap. You want Butterfinger Cups, Baby Ruths, whatever, I’ll get ’em for you. Until the time that cap’s back on, we won’t talk about them and that means we can continue a candy bar to cup discussion sometime next weekend.”

  “Okay, Deke.”

  She was now just out and out laughing.

  He had them back where they always were, he did what he did with Jussy.

  Took advantage.

  “We’re gettin’ you an eighty inch TV,” he declared.

  Her hand jerked in his when she snapped. “We are not.”

  “Eighty inches, HD, movies will seem like we’re watchin’ them in a theater.”

  “We won’t be in a theater, Deke. We’ll be in my bedroom.”

  They fucking would.

  And after that night, them being there would have a different meaning.

  “You’re loaded, Jussy. You get anything less than an eighty inch, they’ll take away your membership in the Rich As Shit Club.”

  “I gave up that membership a long time ago. Most rich people are assholes,” she muttered, and he knew she was again looking out the side window.

  He also felt his ribs constrict.

  Most rich people are assholes.

  Christ, yeah.

  Like she was made for him.

  “Eighty inches, babe.”

  “Fifty, Deke.”

  He was screwing with her about the eighty.

  But fifty?

  Was she insane?

  “No fuckin’ way,” he shot back. “Eighty.”

  “Okay,” she gave in on a sigh then shared she wasn’t giving in. “Sixty.”

  “Eighty.”

  “Deke!”

  “Justice.”

  She shut up.

  Two minutes later, they turned into the freestanding electronics store outside the mall.

  In the end, they got her seventy inches.

  Deke thought it was a good compromise.

  Justice made it clear that for him, she was just giving in.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Made for Me

  Justice

  The bed moved as Deke got out of it.

  I didn’t move.

  This was because this was the fourth time this had happened.

  The first time freaked me out, and when he got back, it took him a while to calm me down by explaining that he was just checking things out and it was all good.

  The second time freaked me out too, but when he got back, it didn’t take him as long to calm me down.

  The third time, I woke, but fell asleep against him practically before he’d pulled the covers back over himself.

  This time, enough was enough.

  Shit, he was more freaked than I was about what might happen that night.

  And if I didn’t already have enough evidence to prove that things had changed (in a big way) between Deke and me, that would have done it.

  In fact, after all the drama died down and he settled me back into the new version of life that he was giving me—work on my place, home to his trailer, togetherness every second of the day (except the rare times he let me out of his sight, but only when I was with men he trusted)—it became clear to me.

  No friend showed at a police station and lost his mind, bellowing a woman’s name, flipped out something had happened to her, and the instant he saw her, she was in his arms and held tight, versions of that closeness not ceasing for days that turned into a week.

  This included sleeping with her every night. No couch for Deke unless I was in it with him, cuddled up and watching TV.

  Nope.

  No friend did all that.

  Deke Hightower liked me.

  He so totally liked me.

  But I got why he didn’t go there with me. It wasn’t the time. All that had happened, my worry about Bianca, Mr. T in town, Cal around doing his thing, the threat of the bad guy’s return, I didn’t need more on my mind.

  But still.

  Deke definitely liked me and even if he hadn’t said it straight out, unless I was letting hope cloud my judgment in reading the signs (and that was a possibility, though with the abundance of signs, it was unlikely) he still communicated it to me.

  This would have made me smile if I wasn’t so upset he was so edgy he couldn’t sleep.

  I should have known when he took a big gun out of the small bag where he’d packed his stuff to spend the night and set it on the nightstand before we settled into sleep (or me to sleep, Deke to not sleep).

  But now after four times where he was so restless he had to get up and do a walkthrough of the house, I knew.

  Deke was unsettled and he wasn’t going to get himself settled.

  I needed to settle him.

  What he’d said that afternoon in his truck was true. I hadn’t thought of it logically but the guy who did what he did to me had no intention of killing me. If he did, he would have done it.

  It was a message. He didn’t order me not to contact the police. He’d ordered me to tell Bianca he’d be back. Even if I wasn’t Justice Lonesome, once reported, the cops would be all over protecting a citizen who’d had the same threat delivered like it was and he wouldn’t get the opportunity to come back.

  And it was clear that guy knew Bianca well enough to know that threat would work.

  No one knew if he’d gotten paid.

  But I knew that Bianca would never hear that message and not do what she could to get me out of the line of fire.

  I knew it.

  I just didn’t let that penetrate until Deke had laid it out for me.

  So the guy wasn’t going to show. I felt that in my gut.

  But even if he did, I had cops, Deke and Deke’s gun.

  So it was all good.

  Deke, however, was not feeling this same peace.

  I had to get him there.

  I heard him come back and I stayed quiet and still until he was in bed and had the covers back over him.

  Then I shifted into him, pressing close and drifting a hand up his chest to his neck where I wrapped my fingers around the side.

  “You need to relax, honey,” I whispered.

  “I’m good,” he totally lied. “Go back to sleep.”

  I pushed closer and tensed my fingers into the tight muscle of his neck.

  “You’re not good. You’re on edge. You’ve been up four times, did four checks, came back four times because it wa
s all fine because it’s all fine. So you need to relax.”

  “I’m relaxed, Jussy. Now you relax and get back to sleep.”

  I dug the pads of my fingers deeper into the taut muscle of his neck, following it down to where it met his shoulder.

  “You’re wound tight, Deke. I can feel it. That is not relaxed.”

  “Right. Then I’ll relax when this night is over,” he finally admitted.

  God, he freaking liked me.

  I did let that give me a small smile, pushing closer, tipping my head back and gliding my hand back up his neck, sifting my fingers into his hair.

  He had it tied up, like he always did. I’d never seen it down. Not in sleep, after sleep, even after a shower it was wet, twisted up and tied.

  I wanted to see it down.

  I put pressure on his head and tipped mine back. I knew unless he allowed it I couldn’t force his down.

  But he allowed it.

  Because he was Deke. He’d give me anything.

  So.

  Totally.

  Liked me.

  “It’s gonna be okay,” I whispered. “You know that. You were the one who laid that out.”

  “I do know it. And in the morning when I’m proved right, I’ll be good.”

  I stared at his shadowed face, something that was relatively easy to do in the moonlight filtering through the trees outside and my wall of windows.

  I should just close my eyes and go to sleep. If he was on edge, nothing I could do would probably change that.

  Except maybe one thing.

  Taking his mind off it.

  Something I was going to attempt to do in my bed with his big body, now in faded dark-blue fleece cut-off shorts and nothing else, pressed close to mine, (I couldn’t know for sure about that “nothing else” but there was no indication, and I’d looked, that he also had on underwear).

  I should wait, at least until tomorrow, when we were past this part of my situation and it was definitely time to talk about what had changed between us.

  Smelling him, feeling his heat, knowing he was uneasy because of me, I didn’t want to wait.

  So I didn’t.

  I lifted up and, holding my breath, a knot that was part nerves, part something else in my belly, for the first time ever, I touched lips with Deke.

  At that mere contact, I felt an electric charge tingle against my lips the likes I’d never felt in my life.

  His body went completely still.

  I didn’t know what that reaction meant; it could be rejection or the opposite.

  But in my head I heard that faraway roar of Where’s Justice Lonesome? followed closely with the rumbled murmurings of Christ almighty. Christ almighty, baby.

  He liked me.

  And when two consenting adults liked each other, shit happened.

  I went back in.

  A lip brush then a whispered, “Relax, Deke.”

  His hand resting on my hip slid up to my waist and squeezed.

  It did not push me away. It just squeezed.

  “Jussy,” he muttered. “Now’s not—”

  I went in for another lip brush, another whisper of, “Relax, honey,” and then I went for it and slid my tongue out, gliding the tip along the crease of his lips.

  God, he tasted yummy.

  I had just enough time to have that thought before I drew in a soft breath when I suddenly found myself on my back, Deke’s weight on me, all of his lower half pressing me into the bed.

  “Jussy, don’t,” he growled, his words contradicting our new position. “Now’s not the time.”

  Now was totally the time. If I didn’t feel that “now was the time” gathering between my legs (which I did), I could feel that indication hardening on my thigh.

  I moved both my hands to his neck, its back, fingers up in his hair and I used those hands and his stiffness to pull me up and I put my mouth back to his.

  “Now’s a great time,” I said softly. “You’ve been taking care of me. It’s my turn to take care of you.”

  “Jus—”

  “Shush,” I whispered.

  “Jussy—”

  I cut off whatever he was going to say by sliding my tongue in his mouth and touching it to his.

  His head jerked back.

  My body went solid.

  He didn’t move.

  I held on to his neck and stared at him staring down at me.

  Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have pushed it. Maybe now wasn’t the time.

  Hell, maybe I was even wrong about the whole thing. Maybe Deke was that guy who went the extra mile to look out for his friends. And maybe the evidence that was growing hard against my thigh wasn’t evidence of what I thought it was, but just that I was a girl, he was a guy, we were in bed in the dead of night and that was the natural order of things.

  I started to feel weird, scared, embarrassment creeping in, and I was about to let him go when it happened.

  Thunder rolled in my bedroom, feeling like it was emanating from his stomach, through his chest, his lips, swelling in the room, over my skin, straight between my legs.

  Then he shifted one of his hands that were in the bed at my sides, his weight up on his forearms, so it was wrapped around the back of my neck and his mouth slammed down on mine.

  I opened my lips and his tongue thrust inside.

  Oh God, yes, fuck yes.

  He tasted yummy.

  Another fierce growl released from Deke, sinking down my throat as he slanted his head and took the kiss deeper.

  Okay.

  Yes.

  Okay.

  Damn.

  The man could kiss.

  I slid one arm around his shoulders, the other hand went up and into his hair. I yanked out the holder and it tumbled down, through my fingers, thick and sleek.

  With the feel of that, the depth of his kiss, the taste of him, I whimpered into his mouth as my pussy quivered in a dangerous way that communicated I hadn’t gotten myself any in a long time, I was being kissed by Deke, Deke, so things needed to progress fast and they needed to do that immediately.

  I bucked my hips, and Deke, so Deke, rolled us to give me what I wanted.

  Me being on top.

  I broke the kiss, lifted up astride him and whipped my camisole off, tossing it aside.

  I barely felt the material leave my fingers before he knifed up, his hand winding in my hair.

  He pulled it back roughly, arching my spine, and I had a moment out of the moment as I remembered the last time someone pulled my hair.

  I was instantly back in the moment when I felt Deke cup my left breast from the bottom, lift it, then latch on with his mouth and pull.

  “Oh my God,” I breathed, the electricity shooting from nipple to clit not a tingle. It was a full-on charge and it was not stopping.

  I twined my fingers through his hair, holding him to me, feeling his beard graze the sensitive skin of my breast, all of that making me squirm against the hard cock I felt pressing through his shorts, my pajama shorts, right at the heat of me.

  “Deke,” I whispered.

  He released my nipple but grunted, “Give me the other one, gypsy.”

  I moved faster than I’d ever done, taking one hand from his hair to cup my own breast, lift it.

  He wrapped his lips around it and sucked deep.

  “Yes,” I exhaled.

  He gave a soft yank at my hair and I arched further for him, shoving my nipple deeper into his mouth. Deke rewarded me by rolling his tongue around my nipple, then sending a reflexive buck through my whole body as he bit lightly, then he again pulled it in deep.

  “Honey…” It was a plea but I didn’t use more words.

  I told him what I wanted by rubbing hard against his cock underneath me.

  I was ready.

  I needed him inside me.

  He released my breast, cupped the back of my head and lifted his up, his mouth coming to mine where he again kissed me, hard and wet, deep and long, before he abruptly surged
up, taking me with him.

  He dropped me on my back perpendicular on the mattress and a slither of panic hit me when he backed off the bed, taking his feet at the side.

  What was happening?

  Was he going to do another walkthrough?

  Now?

  He bent over, gripping me behind my knee. I cried out softly as he dragged me so my ass was to the edge of the bed.

  No walkthrough.

  Thank God.

  He shifted both hands to my shorts, and I gasped, feeling my pussy spasm as he tore them with my underwear down my legs.

  Then I watched play out the sexiest five seconds of my life.

  This being Deke dropping to his knees at the side of the bed, tossing one of my legs over one of his broad shoulders, clasping me behind my other knee and pushing it wide and high, and bending to me.

  After that I saw nothing because his mouth was working me and my eyes closed, my head dug back into the bed, and I pushed with my heel into his back to lift my hips deeper into his mouth.

  I should have known with the way he kissed he’d know how to do this.

  And fucking hell, he knew how to do this.

  I was panting, undulating my hips against his mouth, close and getting closer, when his hand behind my knee slid down the inside of my thigh, his other hand curled over my belly honing in from above. And then I felt him shove a finger inside me at the same time he worked my clit with his thumb and finally, I felt his tongue thrust into me.

  He finger and tongue fucked me at the same time and I didn’t even know you could do that.

  But that was only a vague thought that flitted away almost before I had it.

  No.

  I had no thoughts.

  I was nothing but cunt and clit and what Deke was doing to them.

  “Honey,” I panted.

  God, I was going to get there. Deke taking me speeding there with terminal velocity.

  I reached between my legs, skimming my fingers against his bearded cheek. “Deke.”

  I didn’t know if it was a plea or a warning.

  Deke took it as a warning because suddenly his mouth nor fingers were between my legs.

  I opened my eyes, righted my head, was about to protest but looked up and saw him standing colossal like a mountain man god by the side of the bed.