Hard Ride (5 page)

He held her against his chest, and turned. With easy movements, she faced him, and he leaned her against the corner.
“I’m putting you in the tub. Need to take advantage of the hot water.” Holding against his long, lean form, he helped her shuffle to the tub. He walked in, turned and lifted her into the water. She floated in the water, the heat soothing to her muscles.

He grabbed the shampoo,
a loufa, her soap, and washed her from head to toe.

Katie
remained still, not sure what to make of the attention. Part of her wanted to tell him to stop. But that primitive part, the side she held prisoner, told her to shut up. For the first time, she listened.

Houston washed himself, Katie watching every movement of his hands, as they slid over the muscular frame, all six foot
three of it, the soap covering every inch of tawny skin. When he stretched his body backwards to rinse off, it took all Katie had not to attack. The man was downright beautiful, and worthy of a sculpture.

She moved forward in the tub, straddled his lap, “You missed a spot.” She grabbed his washcloth, and started on his neck, making a small growling sound at her bite mark. It was infinitely satisfying. Lathering her hands, she dropped the cloth and let her hands wander his chest, noting the scars, some thin and barely noticeable, others thick and ropy. Pulling on his shoulders, she slid against his slick skin, her nipples brushing against his chest as she reached around his broad back. Nipping his bottom lip, she drug her nails across his shoulders, and moved her hips on his lap. His hands grabbed her hips almost painfully.

“Damn it.” He lifted her onto his throbbing erection, leaning back and pulling her down as he lifted up.

She straightened, her arms crossing over her head, eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of being filled to the brim. Swiveling her hips a little, she heard him gasp. Taking a peek at him, her body reached a frenzied peak at his head kicked back, the sweat on his brow, the look of pleasure and pain on his handsome features. When he held her down, and moved his hips, the head of his cock pressing against the opening of her womb, she exploded, her orgasm roaring through every nerve, making her body spasm on top of him, her nails biting into his shoulders. He growled, his body going taut, hands squeezing her hips. The sensation of his orgasm deep inside kicked off a second orgasm. She wasn’t sure it would end. Or if she wanted it to.

When it finally stopped, she slumped against him.

“I adore the way you bathe.” It was the only thing she could think of to say.

He chuckled, “I do like getting dirty again.”

Toweled off,
naked, and in bed on top of the duvet, he left on a lamp, running soft fingers over every bruise, every laceration. She had the feeling he was cataloguing the injuries to hold against Jimbo. For the first time in two years, Katie understood. Houston was one of those rare men: Alpha in every sense, but secure enough to let a woman be the boss.

How far did she want this to go? If her instincts were correct, he wanted more than sex and a temp friends with benefits arrangement.

Damn.

Chapter Twelve

Houston lay in the quiet and dark, moonlight filtering through an opening in the drapes play
ing across Katie’s sleeping form. All the instincts he’d used as a Naval officer were taking over. She was
his
. His to protect, to cherish, to hold, to make sure she got whatever she needed or wanted. The urge to kill was strong, and keeping him awake.

Slipping out of bed, he grabbed his duffel and pulled out the laptop.
On silent feet, he went into the sitting room, settling into one of the high-backed chairs. Cracking open the laptop, he mentally cursed, realizing he didn’t have the password for Katie’s WiFi. He tried several combinations, but smiled when it hit him what she’d use. He typed
69JudgeGoat84
. Instantly, the indicator for a strong signal lit up in the lower corner of the screen.

He logged into the encrypted website, opening the emails.
One new message. Once read, he put it into a folder. He shut the laptop down, and sat back in the plush chair. He wasn’t sure what to tell Katie without revealing
how
he’d gotten the information, or that he’d been nosing around in her business affairs. If he knew his Hellcat, she’d be furious. It didn’t escape him she’d ignored the “my woman” that’d slipped before the shower.

Damn, he hadn’t meant to say that. But seeing the extent of her injuries, red washed out his vision, and his mouth got ahead of his brain. Pinching the bridge of his nose,
he mentally prepared to do damage control.

And what was he supposed to tell her about the scope of the whole debacle? Most she wouldn’t believe. It was hard for him, and he was looking at the secured files. The other issue, what her father’s company actually did, made it hard to believe she wasn’t involved. The only clincher for her innocence was that she’d shut the company down, despite huge profits.

She had no idea the domino effect of her actions.

Putting the laptop in the duffel, he crawled into the huge bed, putting an arm under her pillow and dragging her into his body. The feel of her, warm and soft, next to his hard strength, was heaven.

He woke to Katie nuzzling his chest, one small hand digging nails into his back. He’d thrown one thigh over her hip, and curled around her like a protective shield. Leaning back, he noted she was asleep. Despite his reaction, he did nothing. It went against the grain to try and take advantage of what she offered if she wasn’t awake to give full consent.

Gritting his teeth, he let her explore, light touches, nuzzling, her skin against his. Eyes closed, he grabbed onto every ounce of willpower available.
It didn’t stop the rampaging erection tapping her lower belly.

“Ow,” her voice, husky with sleep, whispered. She moved away, and despite the need to keep her close, he let go. “I hurt like hell this morning.” She rolled away, sliding out of bed.

Houston noted it was early morning, as he watched her limp unashamed to the bathroom. When the door closed, he grabbed her pillow, burying his face in the fabric. Past the shampoo, conditioner, and the Pomegranate Mango soap, was her scent, wood and sweet hay mixed. A reminder of days on the ranch as a teenager.

He noticed a towel on the floor, and grabbed it. Nose buried in the pillow, towel over his hips, gripping the dick that refused to ever go down around her, he remembered the bath. He rubbed up and down, aggressively, moaning into the pillow. It didn’t take long before the muscles in his lower back tightened and he bowed off the bed, coming into the towel.

Putting the pillow back, cleaning the mess, he noticed Katie standing in the doorway of the bathroom, avidly watching him. She met him wide eyed, her face flushed, her chest rising and falling in rapid succession. He puffed his chest out, liking how turned on she was, and noting it for future use.

H
e got out of the bed, stretching. Scrubbing his face, he set about getting dressed. It was Monday, and he still had to work, even if he was sleeping with the boss.

Packing the duffel and prepar
ing to leave, he heard her move into the closet. She rummaged around, and took the moment to finish his morning rituals.

Driving to work, he remained silent, trying to think of the best way to tell Katie what he’d discovered.

“Houston, after work, we need to talk, okay?” she put a hand on his arm.

“We can’t do it now?” he met her gaze.

“We need to look a little further into the whole embezzling thing. That will keep me busy all day, and I think we need more than a few moments.” She looked out the window.

Son of a bitch.
“Okay.”

The garage appeared at the end of the block, and he turned. He parked the car, and got out, whistling low at the sight of the Judge. It was inside the fence, and a mess. The chassis was bent, the trunk
lid twisted open, passenger door twisted at an odd angle, the roof dented in, all glass gone, and the driver side door flipped open and resting next to the front wheel. He glanced from the Judge to Katie and back.

He turned on his heel, opening his car door and preparing to get in. He had every intention of killing the man still hospitalized. Only the hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“No.”

He turned to look at her, preparing to shrug off her hand. The expression on her face froze him to the spot. It was a mix of pleading, fear, and puzzlement. “Why?”

“I can’t afford the bail. I still owe you from Friday night.” She gave a tight smile.

Different scenarios
rushed through his brain, and he discarded all of them. Lying to her was an option, but he didn’t want that between them. He already had a fight on his hands to get her to see them as more than just a casual affair. “For now, as you wish.” He stepped back, slamming the door shut.

He waited for her to walk in front of him, watching for any signs of other occupants. They were early, a little past six in the morning, but with the way things were going, he didn’t want to take chances. Letting her think she had it all under control just made it easier for him.

The garage was quiet, the Mustang sitting in the same spot, a gleaming blue with the sunrise reflecting across the top as he walked past. Glancing at the engine, he ran into the engine wench.

“Katie, you mig
ht want to see this,” he stared.

She joined him at the quarter panel, “Mother fucking son of a bitch!” She slammed the hood.

Houston didn’t move, knowing her rage wasn’t directed at him. The engine had been vandalized, half of it missing. The engine was worth three grand, and whomever took it apart knew what to take. He watched her run into the office, and followed. For the first time, he noticed the office door was wide open.

He tried to catch her before she rushed into the office. He was too late.

A young male, about twenty three, jumped from behind the desk, tackling Katie to the floor, flipping her over, slamming her head into the concrete.

He obviously didn’t see Houston.

Houston surged forward, grabbing the man by the neck and shoving his back into the edge of the desk. He punched him in the nose, grunting in satisfaction at the sound of the fragile bone breaking. The kid resisted, trying to land hits of his own, but Houston was past the point of feeling. He kept punching until his opponent’s face was a bleeding mass without definition. Houston stepped back, letting the limp body slide to the floor and went to Katie.

She was br
eathing, but it was shallow. He grabbed the cell phone, dialing 9-1-1.

Chapter Thirteen

Her head throbbed, eyesight fuzzy, body stiff. Her last memory was of an unknown form jumping from behind the office desk. After that, nothing.

Various machines beeped, and sensation returned. She could feel the IV in her arm, the catheter, and the EEG lines to her chest.

A big, warm hand engulfed hers, and she looked. Houston sat in a chair, his head resting near her hip, asleep. She could see his face, exhaustion etched across the chiseled features. She smiled at the tiny line of drool.

Squeezing his hand, “Hey.”

He popped up, looking around the tiny room,
and zeroed in on her face. Standing, he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thank goodness. I’ll get the nurse.”

She forced her hand open, wanting to call him back as he left the room. It felt safer with him nearby.

Waiting, she put a hand on the injury, wincing. Having been a little klutzy, and in a lot of fist fights, her whole life, bruises and cuts were common. Yet the past several days were beyond ridiculous. Thank the gods she wasn’t vain.

The door opened, and Houston zipped inside, followed closely by the nurse. He stood in the corner, holding her gaze as they checked her vitals, and asked questions. She was helpless to look anywhere else.

She remembered the look in his eyes when he’d seen the Judge for the first time. It’d taken some doing, but she’d managed to have it taken to the shop. Some of it was salvageable, although the chassis was going to be a problem. She’d seen a way to fix it. If his expression meant anything, that isn’t what Houston had seen. For the first time, she’d been scared of what he could do. His going to prison for her wasn’t on the To Do List.

He stood in the corner, one hand heavily bandaged, staring, holding her hostage in a prison without bars.
She wasn’t in danger, but anyone else who got too close, or threatened her, were putting their lives on the line. Katie had no doubts he’d kill.

A small shiver
spread, the caveman in the corner making her feel … safe. Wanted. Frustrated. She remembered his resume, where it simply said Naval Intelligence, and his refusal to explain. The background check said it was an honorable discharge as a Major. She’d let it go. Now she wondered if she should have dug a little deeper.

The medical personnel left, leaving the two of them staring at each other.

“Did you kill him?” her voice, a whisper, echoed.

“No,” his voice was tight, deep, laced with anger, giving it a harsh note.

She nodded, one hand fiddling with the blanket. “How long have you been here, Houston?”

“Since they brought you in three days ago. I have security at the garage twenty-four, seven, and the kid isn’t going to talk for a
while. His fingerprints say he’s a small time crook, but no connection has been found to the issues in your company.”

Katie bit her bottom lip. “Are you okay?” she met his eyes, seeing his expression soften the tiniest bit.

“Yes, Hellcat, I’m okay.” He held up the bandaged hand, “Just a few cuts and bruises, nothing that won’t heal quickly.” He moved to stand next to the bed, hands on the rails, leaning into his shoulders. “I was beginning to wonder if you were going to wake up.”

When he met her gaze, she gasped. She put her hand over his, “We’ll be okay. I need to find out what is happening. All these incidents are linked, but I have no idea how.”

Lifting her hand, he rubbed it against his three day old beard, eyes closed. “You’re going to be mad, but I think I know.”

“Why would I be angry?” she frowned.

Putting her hand on the blanket, he walked to the end of the bed, head bowed, hands in his jacket pockets. “I, um, called a few contacts.”

Her eyebrows rose, “Really?”

“Yeah. Do you remember Hastings Green?” He looked everywhere but her.

“Yes.”

“Did you know he was Jimbo’s cousin?”

Her heart slammed, and she felt the instant adrenaline rush. “No. Go on, Houston, tell me the rest of what you know.”

He rubbed the back of his head, “Seems your former CEO has been placing his family in your businesses. I don’t have definitive proof, or anything we can give law enforcement yet, Katie. But it’s beginning to look ..”

“Like the bastard has been targeting me for putting an end to his free ride when I stomped out Dad’s company.”
Taking a deep breath, “What else?”

“Carter Jones?”

“What about him?” she narrowed her gaze.

“Well, that isn’t his real name, but everything of his past is locked pretty tight. It took some doing. You might remember him as a CFO during your father’s reign. Did you not recognize him?” he spoke low, in soothing tones.

“I didn’t have much to do with Dad’s company. I wasn’t allowed in the offices until I turned seventeen, and there were too many people. Mostly I was there because Dad wanted to auction me off to the highest bidder. Wanted someone to marry me and take over on his death.” She picked at the thin, cotton blanket, refusing to meet his eyes. It was the most she’d ever admitted to anyone, and didn’t like the vulnerability. The show of weakness. “I was a woman, and he didn’t believe women could run a business.”

She closed her eyes, carefully measuring each breath.
Just when she thought it was over, when her life was finally her own, something bitch slapped her back to reality.