Hard Ride (9 page)

Chapter Twenty Two

Was she okay? Was he fucking serious?
She was in a hospital, and he’d just giving her an earth shattering orgasm, not asking her to return the favor. He’d put her needs above his. He’d seen what she’d been thinking about, a damned mind reader.

Was she fucking okay?
Her mind screamed, telling her to run, and run fast. He knew her, didn’t give a shit about her new scars, and
still asked if she was okay.

Her body trying to recover, she wasn’t sure she had bones. She could feel his finger, moving gently inside of her, giving her small ripples of pleasure.

“Katie?” he removed his hand, worry filling his handsome features.

“Yeah,” she stared into those blue eyes, not sure what to say. Emotions stretched her skin, making it tight, and uncomfortable. She wasn’t going to name them, to do so would be an admission of fragile thoughts.

He kissed her gently, and things low in her body clenched. She wanted to ask for more, but that Parker pride reared its ugly head. She smiled instead.

“I’ll be right back, Hellcat.” He adjusted his roaring erection, making her mouth water, and walked with a slight limp into the bathroom.
She was jealous of his hands, wanted to be the one to bring him to orgasm, watch his face, swallow
his
cries of release.

As reality slowly sunk in, she noted she lay in a rather large wet spot, with no way of calling the nurse and explaining what happened. She sucked in her lips and bit down, trying desperately to hold in a laugh. She could see how that would go over, and finally gave in to a fit of giggles.

Moments later, Houston returned, walking normally, the tension gone. He winked when he caught her gaze.

“One day, Katie, we’re going to talk. Not right now, maybe not for a few days, but we have to have a conversation.” He stood next to her bed, towering, hands on hips, feet shoulder width apart, eyes telling her there was no arguing.

“I think you might be right.” She gave him a nod.

He sat down, picked up the Clancy novel, and resumed reading.

*

She woke to the sounds of rubber soles against the tiled floor, finding Houston asleep in the recliner, the sun streaming through the curtains, and a nurse going over the paperwork. She looked up, and smiled.

“Ready to go home? We’re doing the paperwork now. Is Houston taking you home?” she spoke in a whisper, throwing a gentle smile at the sleeping hulk of a man in the recliner.

“Yes, we just have to pack all this crap up.” Katie looked around the room, noting Houston had everything in neat little piles, and two boxes ready to go.

“You’re lucky. A man like that is hard to find.” The nurse put the paperwork down, patted her leg and left.

The sensation was weird, after weeks of a cast. She wore a boot on her right leg, but
her left was still in a fiberglass cast. She had crutches, but tried to use the cane most of the time. Her bruises were gone, leaving only scars. She’d avoided mirrors, knowing it was vanity. But Houston didn’t seem to mind them, and if last night was any indication, it had no effect whatsoever on his attraction to her. The thought brought comfort.

“Houston. Come on,
hon, we need to get ready to go,” she spoke in a low tone, not wanting to startle him.

His eyes opened, fluttering a few times, before popping open and he looked around, as if trying to get his bearings.

“The nurse was just in here, said they’re doing the paperwork. I need to get dressed,” she pushed to a sitting position.

He stood, stretched, and she barely held in the gasp as his t-shirt lifted to give a glimpse of his six pack abs, and that little “V” leading into the worn jeans. Her tongue tingled in desperation to run over the entire area, taste him. She swallowed, blinking to return to reality. They had a lot to do, her fantasies would have to wait.

He pushed a little button, flipping down the guard, and leaned in to give her a quick kiss on the forehead.

“Give me a few, I’ll get everything together, and get you cleaned up.” He grabbed the shaving kit from the little bedside table and went into the bathroom.

Katie wanted a shower. A nice long hot one. But it would be another sponge bath and dry shampoo. At most, she’d get to take a bath at home. She maneuvered until her legs dangled off the bed, feeling the weakness in her muscles. She definitely needed the help. The internal battle started, between asking for help, and doing it even if it meant hurting herself.

Sighing, she stayed in place, waiting for Houston. Common sense didn’t always win, and she’d fallen several times over the past few weeks. Rubbing her forehead, it’d been pure stubbornness. She wasn’t up for lectures, or more injuries that might cause her to have a longer stay.

Houston returned, frowning at her, even narrowing his eyes for a split second, before glancing around the room, and nodding once. “Carry or walk?”

“I need to walk, you heard the doc. Helps healing.”

“You got it.” He slid arms around her, bending at the knees and letting her fall against him. Inch by inch, she landed on her feet, trying to straighten, but her legs couldn’t take her full weight yet. Held tight against him, straightening in slow inches, until she had both arms wrapped around his chest, his hand under her armpit. She shuffled to the bathroom, hanging on for all she was worth. Not because she needed the help, a cane would have been sufficient. But because the feel of his body, his strength and his heat more than she could resist.

Chapter Twenty Three

It was a long, hard, heated argument. It involved screaming, silences, and hurling accusations. But in the end, he won. He’d given her a choice: his place, or he moved in to hers while she healed. His refusal to budge had pissed her off, no less than he expected.

The massive house remained intimidating, but Katie had been right all those weeks ago. It wasn’t her, only the house she lived in. She wasn’t empty, soulless. The polished oak flooring, two story ceilings in the foyer, or the spotless walls did not reflect her colorful personality, her beautiful imperfections.

He carried her upstairs, relishing the feel of her arms around his neck, head resting against his shoulder.
The trust he wouldn’t drop her. By the time they’d gotten everything unloaded and unpacked, she was asleep, curled into a fetal position on the bed, hands under her head, face relaxed. His heart beat heavily, and he wanted to stand over her sleeping form, so small on the massive bed, to watch for any danger.

He blew out a breath, knowing she’d only get a little angrier at him. Such independence. Such fire. He loved it, thinking of the Judge. Beautiful on the outside, with all the right curves, and if a person wasn’t familiar with it, the power under the hood
a deadly surprise. It required special handling, the ability to adjust, and knowing that changing it would mean losing what made it beautiful in the first place.

He’d taken apart the Judge while he was at the shop, replacing parts and pieces of the body. It was almost back to normal, and currently in the shop
waiting for painting. He’d even managed to get them to mix the original Orbit Orange as a surprise for Katie.

Quietly gathering his laptop and the flash drive, he went into the sitting room, turned on the standing lamp and got to work. He was close to f
inding the culprit in the mess. He’d weeded out most of the accounting staff, leaving three people: Michael Collins, the shy accountant who worked out of Hard Ride, Bethany Harrows, an outgoing and friendly woman working out of the main Parker Enterprises office, and Clint Brown, a massive man with a gentle disposition and a desk next to Bethany. Carter Jones was dead, they’d been unable to save him, but the man never had access into the right server to do the embezzlement.

Houston strongly suspected Mike. He was the only one who set off his radar. He looked at the picture on the opposite wall, the soft light from the lamp giving the Picasso a different perspective. The muted colors made the woman in the picture less out of whack and more realistic. He could see sadness, hiding the pride. Picasso, though not a favorite, had managed to capture a dual nature in the small painting. It was his Hellcat.

The little voice in his head asked if he suspected Mike due to jealousy. Katie always treated the man with gentleness, giving him a lot of leeway, never letting him see her temper. Whereas she’d let loose with both barrels on him, unafraid.

His mind stopped, and he gaped at the painting. She was herself around him,
allowing the good and bad to have time, as if she knew he’d stay, was worthy of seeing everything. Faults as well as the parts she kept under wraps: the need to protect her people, to ensure they always had what they needed, never wanted. He remembered each time she’d allowed him to see her vulnerable spots.

Smiling at the discovery, he went back to looking over the spreadsheets, comparing them to the account ledger, and in turn, comparing them to the bank statements. He grabbed the one thing he hated, the dreaded reading glasses. His eyes were straining, and slipping them on, he peeked at the bed, seeing Katie hadn’t moved. Pulling a folder from the laptop briefcase, he grabbed some invoices and returned to the comparative analysis.

Someone had reached into the cookie jar, and by god, he was going to find out who.

*

He heard sheets rustling, and jumped. Stretching stiff neck muscles, he yawned and put everything to the side. Regret at falling asleep in the chair gripped him. But it was worth it. He’d made some major steps to solving the mystery.

“Houston? Are you awake? Are you in here?” her voice
was throaty and slightly slurred.

“Yeah, honey, I’m here. Was working on something. Need some help?” He threw the covers off her, enjoying the view. Despite the scar from the accident on her shoulder, and the additional scars leaving a trail down the side of her face, or maybe because of them, he found her one of the most beautiful women he’d ever laid eyes on.

“I’m so stiff,” she grumped, “and need the restroom. Where’s my cane?”

“I can carry you, sweetheart.”

“No, I have to walk. You heard the doc’s orders.” One green eye glared at him, the other lid closed.

He smiled, giving her an arm to hold for support. Once upright, he handed her the cane and forced himself to stand back. He put both hands in the sweat pants pockets,
to contain the need to help her. She struggled to stand, and he barely stopped from reaching forward to lift her to her feet.

She made it, her smile triumphant. “Ha! Take that!” With slow, awkward steps, she headed for the bathroom.

He stayed five steps behind. Even when she closed the door in his face, he remained close, just in case.

“Quit hovering, damn it!” she yelled, voice carrying easily through the thick door.

He chuckled. “Make me!”

He laughed at her growl. Several minutes later, she opened the door, glared, and broke into a big smile.

“I’m not going to win that argument, am I?” she patted his chest.

“Not a snowball’s chance,” keeping clo
se.

He watched her dress, enjoying the small things she did to get prepare for a day. Not that she could go far, but it’d been made very clear she would eat downstairs, and wasn’t going to stay in bed.

Lifting her into his arms, they made their way to the dining room. He settled her, and sat down. The breakfast served was enough to feed a small army.

“I eat a lot, Hellcat, but isn’t this a bit much?” he gave her a questioning look.

“Give it a minute,” she smiled.

The entire staff joined them, all five. The breakfast was filled with chatter, schedules, things to be done, gossip, laughter, and a few questions. Houston watched, fascinated. He’d known people with help before, none ever allowing them at the table for breakfast, lunch
, or dinner. His Hellcat joined in the conversation, asking after their families by name, knowing their problems, answering questions, proving her commitment to anyone she deemed part of her pack.

Knowing how much they meant to her,
he kept thinking,
why would one want to harm her
?

Chapter Twenty Four

Katie was well aware of Houston’s fascination with the way she treated
her people. She also knew he’d stayed up all night going over invoices, the bank account, and spreadsheets.

Yet all she could wonder was why he hadn’t joined her in bed. Glancing at her legs, she wondered if that was why. Was he afraid of hurting her? Or did she need to invite him?
Did her legs repulse him?

I have to stop whining and just ask.

Breakfast completed, she grabbed her cane, and shuffled into the entertainment room. Specifically decorated for the best acoustics, sporting a high definition projector, and comfortable leather recliners, it was one of the best rooms in the house. Everyone made use of the theatre-like feel, the BluRay collection huge and diverse, and she asked Heather to pull out the Transformer movies. Snacks and drinks were set next to her preferred recliner, and she pushed it back, feet elevated. Her legs were throbbing, and it was time to get them up.

“You okay?” Houston sat in the next recliner, flipping out the foot rest and releasing an “
ahhh” as he settled into the chair. “Man, these are pure heaven.”

She giggled, “I know, right? I’ve been in love with them since they were installed three years ago. This used to be my father’s office. His ego demanded the biggest room in the house.”

Why did I tell him that?
Shaking it off, she handed him a bottled water, and a pair of 3-D glasses.

“Hot dog, 3-D? Love this movie in 3-D,” he grinned, staring at the screen as the opening credits started.

Katie felt a strange contentment, sitting next to Houston, throwing popcorn at the screen, making noises at the bad guys, laughing, and talking during the movies. For six hours, with only a few bathroom breaks, they forgot the world existed.

As the ending credits for the third movie started,
Katie pushed her butt against the recliner, sitting up. “That was fun. But I need to walk around a little.” She tried to push the footrest into place, stubbornly refusing to believe she needed help. Although it’d been the case the last three times she’d needed to get up.

Houston shook his head, flipped his footrest into place and easily did the same for her. He offered his arm, but retracted it. He took two steps back, and did the bodyguard stance.

She managed one circuit from the entertainment room, into the foyer, through the formal living room, into the library and almost made it to the dining room. She stumbled, legs begging for relief. Houston swooped in and picked her up. Dinner went the same as breakfast, everyone talking, going over the events of the day, creating the next day’s schedule, the relay of more gossip, news, and plans. Katie loved mealtimes for those very reasons.

Dinner done, Houston’s strong arms slipped around her, lifting easily. She
buried her nose in his neck.

“Sleep with me tonight, Houston. Don’t do whatever you were doing last night, just … sleep with me.” She
could hear the insecurity in her tones, and winced.

He walked up the many steps to the second floor, his breathing steady until she spoke. She heard the hitch, felt his heartbeat jump through her breasts against his chest.

“I need you next to me,” she admitted, so low she wasn’t sure he heard her.

He stopped on the second floor landing, pulling his head back to stare into her eyes. “As you wish, Hellcat, for as long as you wish.”

She kissed him. She’d meant it as a thank you, but something broke a dam within, and she gave herself over to the sensations rocking her body at the contact. His arms tightened, and he turned to her bedroom, walking fast. Heat spread through her body, breathing labored, heart jumping into a fast beat.

He set her down, waiting until she had balance, and with swift, gentle movements, had her shirt and bra off, tossing them on the floor. She held his shoulders, as he used one finger to circle her nipple, the tip stiffening to a hard point. He cupped her breast, gently lifting, rubbing a thumb back and forth across the sensitive peak.

“The way you react to me, it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen,” he whispered.

She pushed into his hand, letting him know what she wanted. Actions, not words.

He released her breast, and kneeled, pulling down the loose yoga shorts and thong, kissing and licking the thin skin between her thigh and core. She wanted him to go three inches to the left, but he resisted. Digging her nails into his shoulders, she growled.

“Oh no, not this time. Both of us are going to fly high tonight.”

She almost melted.

He lifted her to the bed, pushing against her chest until she lay back, watching. Grabbing the bottom of his t-shirt, he tore it off, throwing it onto the growing pile of clothes.
His gaze never left her, as he ran one hand slowly down the well-defined pecs, tensing the six pack abs, veins popping near the V of his hips, making her mouth water.

She sat up, unable to resist. Slipping her legs off the mattress, she pushed his hands off, grabbing his hips and doing something she’d thought
about for weeks. She bit him hard on the hip, enough to mark but not draw blood. He shoved one hand into her hair, getting a handful and holding it tight.

She looked up, letting him see the intensity she felt. “You’re mine, Houston. And I’m going to mark you so if any other female sees it, she’ll know.” She didn’t recognize her own voice, deep and throaty, certain of her rights.

He smiled and released her hair, “About fucking time.”

She licked the bruise forming around her bite mark, nibbling and kissing across his lower abdomen, digging her nails into his ass through the jeans, smelling his arousal. Part of her wanted to scramble and release his raging erection and taste, but that primitive part, the one she hid, was in control. He was hers. Hers to protect, hers to love, hers to ma
rk, hers to give everything she could possibly offer. Just as she was his.

Scraping her teeth against his other hip, she felt the muscles flex, preparing for her bite. She didn’t dare disappoint. Licking the skin, she sank her teeth, hands going to the small of his back and scraping.

Looking up, she saw his head drop back, mouth open, every muscle in his chest going tight. A low growl flowed out of his chest.

“Don’t stop,” he ordered.

Kissing the mark, she pushed against one hip while pulling the other. Reaching around his waist, she kissed the small of his back, licking the dimples, enjoying the taste of salt and man. Popping the jean’s snap, she unzipped slow and careful, kissing and sucking the skin above his ass. The jeans dropped a little, showing just the top curve of the muscle, nosed the very top of the slit between the twin globes, raking her nails on his abs. He jerked and she bit hard, releasing the muscle and skin, to lick and kiss it. She blew on the spot, smiling at the goosebumps and the deep red mark of her bite.

She repeated the process, leaving marks of nails and teeth. He shuddered, moans growing louder, muscles wound tight. She ripped his jeans to his ankles, and he shucked them off, turning around.

Her eyes widened, seeing the massive erection. She’d almost forgotten how powerful, and beautiful, it was. It bounced lightly with his heartbeat, a massive vein protruding on the underside, pre-cum making the head shiny. It smelled of salt and sex, making her muscles clench in anticipation. A ring of bites encircled his waist, the mixture of his arousal and her marks almost sent her over the edge.

She licked the tip, running it along her cheek, feeling the trail of his arousal, leaving a mark of his own.

“I’m taking over, Hellcat,” his voice went deep, bringing her closer to the ending they craved.

He put an arm under her knees, spinning her on the silk sheets, and a hand pushing her into the pillows. She scooted to the middle of the bed, his gaze, running over her body, hot and leaving scorch marks.

He crawled onto the bed, graceful, powerful, and dominant. She wanted his dominance.

He moved over her,
heavy thighs capturing hers, hands next to her shoulders. “You’re mine. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

One leg slid between hers, rubbing against her core, and she moaned. It wasn’t enough. Opening her thighs, she grabbed her knees, and shamelessly opened herself to him. He nibbled her neck, licking and sucking, raking his teeth against her heated skin.

“Please, Houston,” she whispered.

His mouth found the thick muscle between her neck and shoulder, and bit hard. She screamed, followed by a low moan as her body clenched, the small orgasm not nearly enough. He released the muscle, blowing on it, and nuzzling his way to her chest. Without warning, he put his mouth over one nipple, at the same time a hand grabbed her breast, plumping it. Ruthlessly, he ran his tongue over the peak, teeth gently gripping the plump flesh.

She squirmed under the sensations, almost too much, but not quite enough. Releasing her thighs, she buried her hands in his soft curls, pulling him closer.

He stopped and nuzzled the area between her breasts, a hand dipping between her thighs, pushing two fingers into her throbbing pussy, creating a groan deep in her chest, muscles clenching around the welcome intrusion. As they slowly slid in and out of her slick core, he licked and sucked the other nipple, gently.

“Houston, now, please! Now!” she begged, unable to stop, her legs widening, lifting her chest from the mattress, and yanking on his hair. “
Fuck me!”

He lifted his gaze, the blue eyes sparking with heat and need. “I will when I’m damn good and ready.”