Breaking the Bad Boy (21 page)

Joss had the weird sensation that she was not really present, but instead watching from far away. She supposed she was going to be the next to die, and she tried to turn to face her executioner. The rapist was pulled off of her, and there he stood, the man who was going to be the death of her.

“I’ve got you, my Duchess, it’s okay,” he said and it was too much all of a sudden and she simply let go of her consciousness.

Looking at her, Buck cursed and wiped her face with the sheet from the bed and carefully took the tape off her mouth. He then reached down and lifted her gently over his shoulder. Buck was in a right pickle now. He didn’t quite know where to take her, and she was a mess, but he knew he couldn’t leave her, she was only gone an hour and they were already raping her. He should dump her at the hospital, but what was to keep them from snatching her again and using her as a weapon against her father? Keep her safe, that’s what his brain was screaming at him, so he would, it was that simple. She was safest with him; he’d make sure of it. The FBI could go fuck itself.

***

It was dark when Joss woke up; in fact, it was so dark she couldn’t see a thing. Her head was still killing her, her shoulders and back ached, and she was afraid to move, not knowing if she had only imagined Buck saving her yet again. “It’s okay, you’re safe.” She immediately knew his voice. He was lying millimeters away from her. Her arms were no longer bound, so she put her hands out to feel where he was and she hit him, hard, in the solar plexus. While he struggled for breath she felt around for a lamp on her side of the bed, but there was nothing.

“You bastard,” she said to him. “Who do you work for? Cassidy?” He couldn’t answer her. She started to get out of the bed but he grabbed her and pulled her to him. “Let me go, you fucking Sadist!” She said struggling like a wild animal.

“No,” he wheezed. “Hear me out.” He sounded pretty bad and it made her feel triumphant and terrible at the same time.

“My back,” she gasped and he released her immediately and she hit him again, but this time she missed the soft part and hit his hip, stunning her fist, he gasped in shocked pain anyway, and she dived off the bed. He had her by the ankle and he slid off the bed on to the floor with her and grabbed her hands which were pummeling ineffectively at his chest.

“Dammit, Joss,” he wheezed. There was something so plaintiff in his voice she stopped struggling and his big body covered her in one easy movement. “I need you.” He cradled her face in his hands and he kissed her, and she kissed him back with a fever no one in his vast experience ever matched. He rolled bringing her around on top of him so that she wasn’t on her tender back and she felt his erection under her and she wanted him. She was right, it was the best kiss of her life, and he was a bastard and she loved him. His tongue plunged into her mouth, and she took it and welcomed it and reached out to claim it.

While their tongues parried Buck ran his hands down her body and she trembled at his touch. Her hands were full of his soft black hair, her nails digging into his scalp, driving him wild. He pulled her down closer to him and she made a small sound of surrender and the kiss went deeper. An all-encompassing madness had her in its grip, he was such a beautiful kisser, and it took everything she had to stop what they had started.

She pulled away, breathing hard and sitting back, Buck groaned. She was going to kill him, he was pretty sure. “Joss.”

“I need the truth, Buck. You’ve lied to me from the get go,” she said sounding fragile for the first time since he’d clapped eyes on her.

“Yes.” He said.

“You don’t deny it?” She said.

“Please don’t hit me anymore,” he took her hands gently in his. “I lied to you. I lied to your dad, and I lied to your mother. That’s what I do, what I’m paid to.”

“Who the fuck pays you to lie?”

“The FBI.” This was the last thing she expected to hear and it took much of the fury out of her. He felt it leave her body.

“The FBI? What does the FBI have to do with
us
?”

“Your mother is in pretty deep,” Joss could tell that he had leaned back on the floor by the way his voice changed. She was still straddling him, and she could still feel his need hard against her. “She’s been in league with a couple of crooks, at various different times in the past fifteen years. Francis Lanier was her first, he’s the reason she left
Montana
, left Brent, and you. And she had several other small time crooks while Lanier was in jail, but eight months ago Lanier was released. He’s up to his old tricks, and today we can add kidnapping to his sheet.”

She had to admit, as excuses went for sleeping with her mother, this one was looking pretty good. She climbed off of him and sat cross-legged on the floor.

He stood up and turned on the light in the bathroom and sat on the bed. “Come here, Duchess, let me hold you.” He said putting a hand down to her. She took it and sat on the edge of the bed next to him and looked at him in the light for the first time.

“Oh Buck, your face, what happened?” She touched his face lightly and he grimaced, but found it hurt too much so he just made his face go blank. Funny, his face didn’t hurt at all when he was kissing her, and her feather light touch felt very nice. He briefly closed his eyes and enjoyed it.

“Lanier doesn’t like me much, and Cassidy likes me too much. When your father asked me to leave, and he was remarkably kind about it, Lanier figured I was of no more use to him, and had his goons work me over a little, in case I had information he wanted. It hurt more when you hit me though; you’ve got an arm on you.”

“I’m sorry, but I had probable cause,” she said and he laughed.

“Yes, you did.”

“No more lies, Buck.”

“No more lies, Joss.”

“Do you love Cassidy?” He cringed.

“No, I don’t even like her,” he said. “Some things are expected in the line of duty…” he began but her face contorted with pain and he stopped. “I’m so sorry.”

“Was I…? Would you have fucked me ‘in the line of duty’?” She asked. His head pulled back as if she slapped him.

“No Joss… not you. I am drawn to you like nothing else. I couldn’t keep away from you. I have been working under cover for eight months, and I nearly blew the whole thing because once you showed up I couldn’t keep away from you. Christ, I knew Brent would beat me bloody and kick me out and ruin eight months of field work, but I couldn’t help it, Joss.”

“That’s why you kept trying to make me hate you. You were pushing me away, but I kept coming back.” He nodded.

“You’ve done something witchy to me, Duchess, I’m a complete mess.” He looked so pained. “I can’t do my job, all I can think about is you. I haven’t been like this since I first saw Gwyneth Paltrow when I was fifteen.” She could have said he did the same thing to her, made her crazy with desire, made her feel something she hadn’t felt in so long, but she didn’t.

“So you have a thing for blondes?”

“No. I just have a thing for you.”

“Why did they let you go, Buck?” She asked.

“They didn’t.”

“Oh. Did you kill Cassidy?” She braced herself and then realized she’d be okay with it if he had to in order to live.

“No, Bolton showed up and told them they had you so Cassidy and Lanier left, and I was afraid for you,” he shrugged like it was no big deal, but it was a big deal, and she could forgive him anything for saving her again. For saving her from that.

“Those men, are they dead?” She whispered.

“Yes. Are you okay?” He asked taking her hand.

“I feel like someone backed over my head, my back is on fire, and I think I broke my hand the second time I hit you. Aside from that…”

“Then I wasn’t too late? They didn’t rape you?” He asked and she shook her head.

“No,” she said in an expulsion of air. “If you were thirty seconds later he would have,” Buck tried not to cheer out loud. He had lain next to her for twenty minutes in the dark wondering how to help her through that and came up with nothing. “But once again, you saved me, Buck. I didn’t know I was so high maintenance.” He chuckled.

“I knew it from the moment I saw you walking up the road in that dress,” he said.

“Why am I sticky?” She looked at herself and remembered the rapist’s skull exploding and got a little dizzy. “Oh, God.” She ran to the bathroom and turned the shower on and stepped in before it was even warm. Her negligee was still on and she took it off and left it on the floor of the shower. She had been covered in the gray matter of a rapist, and she would have thrown up if there was anything in her belly. She scrubbed for ten solid minutes and finally stepped out when the soap was nothing but a dime sized piece and found a towel.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly when she came back to the bed.

“I don’t know,” she held out her hand and looked for a tremor, but there was nothing. She didn’t think she was in shock. “I’m hungry; does that make me a bad person?”

“No, just human,” he smiled sadly.

“Why did they take me?”

“The Frenchman’s gold,” he said watching her face very carefully.

“The Frenchman’s gold?” She asked unpleasantly. She thought as much, but she couldn’t really believe it.

“Yes,” he said cautiously.

“I thought so. But that’s a myth, it’s just some story my brother and I heard when we were kids, and elaborated as much as we could. But there’s no Frenchman’s gold.”

“They know you know, Joss. Your brother told them that you and he would never tell where it was. Right before they killed him,” he said picking up her limp hand and putting it to his lips. “I’m sorry, Joss.”

Her face went white and she unexpectedly lost the internal gyroscope, and she pitched sideways. Buck caught her and held her as she waited for the loud whooshing noise inside her head to stop. “Brand.” She whispered. “They killed my little brother.” Her tears came.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

“How long have you known?” She said into his shoulder.

“I found out tonight, or rather this morning, it may have been morning then. I don’t think I was supposed to walk out of there alive, they spoke pretty freely around me.”

“You got away from the bad guys and saved me from being raped, after having been beat… beaten,” the trembling started again and he held her to him.

“I wish I could have come clean about everything, Joss. I’m so sorry I’ve hurt you.”

“Is your name really Buck?” She asked after a long while of just being held in his strong arms.

“My name is John Buckingham; my friends call me Duke. I like the name Buck on your lips, though. Why?”

“I want to be sure I’m screaming out the proper name all night, and not some stupid alias,” she said and she released her towel.

Chapter Eight

Buck hesitated, but only for a fleeting second. He stepped back to let the towel fall away from her and see her in the low light of the room. There she stood, and he was as stunned as one of Brent’s cattle on the way to the slaughter house. Joss Erickson was the loveliest woman he’d ever seen.

“You are beautiful,” he murmured and he took her hand and pulled her to the bed with him. He bent to her mouth and began again. As they kissed Joss unbuttoned his soft denim shirt and splayed her hands across his smooth shoulders while he grew better acquainted with the breast he hadn’t held all night. It, too, was perfect in his eyes. He laid her back on the pillows and put his mouth to it and sucked and pulled and lightly nibbled and she quivered under him. Joss made a small desperate sound and he stopped and looked into her half closed eyes.

“Am I hurting your back?” He asked hoarsely.

“What back?” She said pulling his head back to her breast. He grinned and moved down her silken body, taking it all in. Memorizing every curve and crevice of her, he made his way lower, and pushed her knees up and apart and tasted her. They both groaned together at the thrill, and he lifted his head and stared her in the eye, watching her lose focus while he licked her like a cat. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep from climaxing, and he was still mostly dressed.

Joss was still reeling from the kiss he gave her, the man was a marvel. The feel of his lips and teeth on her neck was intense, and when he kissed her breasts a pulse went straight between her legs like an electric current. When he put his mouth there she was lost. There was nothing on the planet but Buck.

He worked his fingers into her silken folds as he stroked her with his tongue and felt her climax once, then again, he was right about the kitten noises he realized abstractedly, they were driving him wild, and he ripped off his pants and he stared into her eyes as he slowly entered her, taking his sweet time, having spent his entire life preparing for this moment. Her scent, her skin, her breasts, they were all overwhelming him and he realized he had wanted her since he saw her dossier on his desk nearly a year ago, she was the reason he took the job.

When he went as far as she could take him, and then a little more, they both gasped at the intensity of the connection. She had been waiting eight years for this man, and it was evident. Buck rocked into her slowly and steadily at first, until he was sure she would accommodate him, finding just the right angle that made her inhale sharply, whispering his name.

“Is it okay, Joss?” He asked, his voice gravelly.

“Yes, Buck, yes,” she panted and he finally quickened, unable to wait a second longer.

He was there on the inside for her final crushing orgasm, where she squeezed her muscles around him so tightly he didn’t have a prayer of hanging on long enough to give her another; it was all he could do to remember to breathe, and even that was ragged. He couldn’t let her go; he clung to her regaining his breath and other senses and wiping her tears from her beautiful face. He couldn’t get enough of her beautiful face.

“Don’t cry, Joss, it’s both of us, now,” he whispered to her as he wiped away the last tear. Joss simply nodded at him unable to speak for a minute as she was too overcome. They stayed that way staring at each other for some time knowing something important had happened.

On his elbows, looking straight down at her he grew hard again inside her and began once more to move within her. “I think we need do that again, my Duchess.”

“And again. That was just the first iced tea,” she said reaching up to lightly touch his beaten face. He laughed and shook his head in amazement.

“I had no idea, Joss, no idea.” This was new for him, he never felt like he wanted to stick around before, and now he didn’t even want to let go of her. He decided to worry about it tomorrow, holding her was simply too sweet.

Joss had her own personal hero, and she loved him. The fact that he was a generous lover only made it that much better. Not a bastard after all.

He rolled onto his back bringing her around on top of him so she wasn’t on her tender wounds and he rocked up into her again and again, cupping her breasts and running his hands down her smooth skin. “Kiss me,” he said and she leaned down to him and put her lips to his neck and ear and finally his mouth as he pulled her tightly to him by her ass. He tasted her mouth as she moved her hips in a circular motion which drove him absolutely wild. He knew he was close again and he carefully placed his thumb on her clitoris and made his own circular motions and Joss cried out his name as she arched back driving him deeper, and he too cried out and sat up, clutching her to him both of them trembling with exquisite release.

At dawn, spent yet still tingling, she slipped into unconsciousness. Buck watched her sleep. He was amazed at the events of the past few hours, how he was so affected by her. He had had sex with beautiful women before, he couldn’t think of a single one who wasn’t beautiful in one way or another, but Joss was somehow completely different, and he didn’t know why. He didn’t really want to think about why, he just needed to be with her and touch her, and hold her, and most of all keep her safe. He’d probably get fired, and surprisingly he was fine with the idea. Joss was his priority now.

He had to sleep, but the need for her was overwhelming. She was sprawled on top of him, her tender back bared, her hair tangling his senses. When it was long it was slightly wavy, but shortened it had become curlier, and he couldn’t decide which he liked better. It still smelled powerfully of her, though, and the scent of it, the scent of Joss made him feel helpless in her thrall.

They had unprotected sex. Several times. He had never had sex without a condom before, and it was heady stuff. He didn’t presume Joss was on the pill, she didn’t have a boyfriend, and he wondered if subconsciously he’d wanted to be bound to her through a child. He thought of his dream, the one of Joss holding his baby to her breast. Their baby. He breathed in deeply and with the rising of his chest she stirred minutely and made a small sound of contentment that went straight to his sex. He curled her hair around his finger.

When he was a child there was someone his Navajo grandmother spoke of whom she believed had been bewitched. She called it being in “
A Frenzy Way
,” and Buck wondered if that was what Joss had done to him. Joss was influencing his emotions somehow. He had long since stopped believing in black magic, but Joss Erickson had him scratching his head. She had certainly woven a delicate spell over him. He didn’t much want to break it, either.

***

Joss didn’t think her body could ache anymore than it did the morning after the fire in the barn, but it could. Her ache was a pleasure, though. A reminder of the things they’d done, the quantity and intensity of her orgasms, and it stunned her, and she was weak just from thinking about him. He alone knew what he whispered to her in some language she hadn’t recognized. She was powerfully affected by his sweet nothings right before she slept, safe in his warm embrace.

She opened her eyes slowly and saw the daylight that was peeking through the ugliest curtains she’d ever seen. “Buck,” she said and her voice sounded dry and deep. He was not in the small room, nor was he in the bathroom.

She leaned back into the pillows. He had better be out foraging for food; she was going on twenty four hours without it, and they had worked up an appetite, bruises and all. The man was simply incredible; he even put Billy Tomlinson to shame. She smiled at a memory and got up to shower.

When she got back into bed she saw streaks of blood on the sheets and she thought she probably popped a few more stitches, since she wasn’t exactly keeping them supple with the ointment. When she pulled the sheet away she realized it was more blood than what would have come from her stitches. It was Buck, he must be bleeding, and she hadn’t even notice, she had been too focused on having the most unbelievable sex of her existence at the hands of a man who was practically bleeding out underneath her, and on top of her and beside her and behind her. Inside her. Her stomach clenched from the butterflies.

Buck came back to the room with coffee and food. When he saw she was awake he smiled.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi yourself,” she countered. “Is this your blood on the sheets? Because it isn’t mine.”

“It’s just a scratch, Duchess.” He sat on the bed next to her and lifted her hand to his mouth. “I brought some food, you must be starved.” He played with an old scar on her palm. “I think I need to recuperate today, and we’ll head out tomorrow. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” he grinned at her.

“What makes you think you’ll get any tonight?” She asked returning his grin. They sat companionably on the bed eating the Danish and drinking the coffee he brought. He leaned against the head board and she leaned against him. His lips found her neck and his teeth nibbled at her earlobe.

“The first time you did that I almost took you there on the table in the kitchen,” she said and he laughed.

“We got here eventually, Duchess, just like you said we would.”

“I need to call Brent,” she said.

“I’m trying to get hold of my partner, when I do I’ll have him tell Brent you’re okay. Is that good enough?”

“No, not really. He’ll worry.”

“I need you to be safe, Joss, and Brent worrying a little bit is a fair price to pay. He probably thinks you’re just off having sex with me.” Joss smiled.

“Let’s not disappoint him,” she said and turned in his embrace.

“What have you done to me?” He asked her later.

“Um, I think we were both pretty involved,” she said.

“You’ve done something witchy to me, Joss,” he kissed her.

“Good, you feel it, too.”

They slept; the coffee growing cold on the credenza.

The next morning she woke again to an empty room and reluctantly washed Buck off of her. They managed some sleep, not a tremendous amount, though. They talked well into the night about books, music and movies, and found they had a lot in common. They laughed and touched and tasted and slept and woke and started again. This was their honeymoon, for lack of a better word; she knew they’d never get another chance.

Joss didn’t know what Buck’s plan was, but she wasn’t going anywhere in this towel, she though as she tossed it on the bed and climbed beneath the sheets.

A car screeched to a stop outside the motel room and she stood up and wrapped the towel around her and went to the window. As she pulled the ugly curtain away the door burst open, falling straight down into the room, completely off its hinges. She instinctively stepped behind the curtain in the darkened room and hoped for the best.

“Police!” One of them yelled into the room. Didn’t police knock anymore? She wondered, and almost stepped out from behind the curtain, when the other one spoke.

“No one’s here. Lanier’s gonna be pissed,” he said.

“There’s blood on the sheets, you think she was a virgin?” The first one said and she could hear the sneer in his voice.

“No, I think I winged him when he left the house,” the second one said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Wait a second, what if they’re coming back? Maybe we should just wait for them,” the first one said.