Hot Pursuit (21 page)

Wolf ran his hands down her legs then up her inner thighs. He spread her legs apart until she felt the strain of her inner-thigh muscles. Angel didn’t know when she’d closed her eyes. She blinked them open, focusing on him. Wolf slipped his hands under her rear, cupping her ass, then dipped his tongue inside her pussy.

“Oh God, yes,” she rejoiced unable to restrain her excitement.

The burning pressure would soon be appeased. All that sweet torturous pain he’d ignited inside her would soon reach its boiling point. All he had to do was keep doing what he was doing. Angel knew how her body worked. She was equally excited that he’d figured out her body without instruction.

When he flicked her already oversensitized nub with his tongue, her entire body jerked in reaction and her head flung up to look at him.

“Christ!” she gasped.

“Relax,” he instructed.

“Do that and I won’t.”

“I told you I’m going to make you come. Fight me and we’ll do it my way.”

So he did have a way he liked it. It was on her tongue to press and find out what that was when meaning seeped into his words. Fight him? But she hadn’t fought him. He’d hit a spot too sensitive, and she’d responded, letting him know with a look to ease off in certain places. That wasn’t fighting him.

“I have no intention of fighting you,” she murmured, relaxing and stretching her arms over her head like a cat as she enjoyed the sheer pleasure he offered. “Possibly not ever,” she added with a chuckle.

When he laughed and his lips moved over her entrance, she wiggled her rear end to show her appreciation. Wolf’s tongue dipped deep inside her, twisting and performing what had to be some kind of magical act. Angel always had thought herself sensitive to all sensations inside her. She prided herself on that making her a good lover. She could feel when a man tightened, jerked, or swelled while having sex, which enabled her to speed up or slow down their lovemaking depending on how close both of them were to coming. Wolf wanted to make her come. Angel never planned on having sex where both she and her partner didn’t experience orgasms.

“Many women think they’re coming. They experience pleasure, but they’re holding back,” Wolf whispered just over her clit. “A strong woman often prefers controlling her release, which makes it harder to really experience a true orgasm.”

Her brain was a cloud of lust, but she wouldn’t let him know that. “And a smart woman might think you’re issuing a challenge.” She noticed when he’d quit impaling her with his tongue and moved his lips over her clit.

“Simply an observation.” Wolf’s lips latched down on that sensitive piece of flesh again. This time when she lashed out, her arms flying off the bed and her body jerking as if electricity had just raced through her, Wolf grabbed her.

Angel didn’t have the strength. Not when Wolf managed to grab both her wrists with one fluid movement and pin them against her belly. He held both her hands with one hand, spread her legs farther apart with his other, and performed more of that magic with his mouth. Sparks zapped over her flesh. Her swollen pussy seemed to explode. Waves and waves of fiery hot pleasure swarmed from inside her as a pool of excitement, of raw unleashed pleasure, released again and again.

“Oh my God! Wolf!” she cried out, grateful that no one would hear them, unless possibly they stood outside on the sidewalk and strained. If they did, let them hear. She honestly didn’t care. “Crap, crap,” she gasped. “It’s too much. No, it’s enough,” she amended instantly.

The moment the peak of her orgasm passed, Wolf let go of her wrists and moved over her. He crawled up the bed on his knees, lifting her limp legs and opening them so he could press the full, round tip of his dick against her throbbing entrance.

“Look at me, Angel.”

She did her best to focus. Her brain didn’t clear as quickly as her vision. Before she could say anything, Wolf thrust deep inside her. At that moment, she was glad she was watching.

Wolf tilted his head back to her ceiling, his lips pressing together and his expression tightening as he filled her completely. Hard bulges in his chest tapered to lean ripples in his abdomen. Dark curls were tight just above his cock, which repeatedly plunged deep inside her. His thighs were taut with muscle that stretched long and lean from hip to knee.

Power emanated from this man. Angel couldn’t remember a life that knew no boundaries. Wolf went after what was right. He didn’t hesitate with her, with Cortez’s men, or with whatever direction he might be heading. In a matter of twenty-four hours Wolf had shown her that his world would always consist of unchartered territory, which he clearly embraced. Her world was full of restrictions and barriers reluctantly accepted.

Angel was strong and intelligent. She was attractive enough that she could grab the attention of someone like Wolf. But she had known repression, penalties when she tried to reach too far, and punishment when she tried claiming too much. Wolf was giving her a glimpse of how freedom might work. Angel wouldn’t accept freedom through the actions of another. She would have to figure out how to make it work for herself.

But was it real? Maybe what Wolf showed her was simply an illusion brought on by a man with capabilities so far beyond her own. Wolf was real. What was happening between them right now, this incredible sex that she didn’t doubt would leave her sated for quite a while was very real. His ability to handle incredible situations that Angel wouldn’t have fathomed how to manage was real.

Wolf plunged again, and again, into her soaked heat. Angel let go of her thoughts, giving in to the physical pleasure this man offered. She hadn’t decided yet if she’d let him know that he had indeed given her an orgasm unlike any she had ever had. As her climax built once again and she soared, more than ready and willing to let go and know that perfect moment when she truly peaked, Angel knew at least one revelation.

First and foremost, if at all possible she would want to fuck Wolf again. But another thought took form, and she immediately grabbed it, unwilling to let go. Angel would learn how to take on Cortez and his deadly henchmen and keep her store. Even if she had to kill them herself. Angel had been so busy showing him that she was a strong, competent woman that she hadn’t noticed, until now, how weak and battle-weary she’d become prior to Wolf walking into her life. That would all change now.

Chapter Ten

Wolf whistled as he walked around the corner toward the bed-and-breakfast. Sea air had never been one of his favorite smells. But something about the smell in the air in Zounds, in spite of how persecuted some of the community was, invigorated him and made the morning even better.

Granted, the large to-go cup of cappuccino Angel had sent him out the door with, not to mention that glorious flush in her cheeks that hadn’t been there the day before, was enough to make the morning perfect. It had been well over a year since he’d woken with a lady cuddled into him, warm and sleeping peacefully. It had been at least as long since he’d actually felt good about having her there.

Angel had made it clear that this was a “no-strings” relationship. She knew he was here to collect a bounty. She hadn’t pried into his personal or professional life. When she’d climbed out of bed shortly after he had, she’d been cheerful, offered him a shower, and had cappuccinos going once he’d joined her downstairs.

Wolf saw immediately that part of Angel’s appeal was that her life was as full as his. She didn’t need to pry into his business, because she focused on her own. They’d had damn good sex. He definitely wanted more of that. As long as everything remained casual, which he already sensed would be easy to do with Angel—she wanted it that way as much as he did—then this might be the best relationship he’d ever had. Leave it to the Mulligan Stew assassin to help round out Wolf’s life and show him exactly what type of relationship worked best for him. Wolf wouldn’t tell the assassin, once he caught him, that he’d done something good in his life. The assassin didn’t deserve that.

The smell of strong-brewed coffee replaced the smell of the ocean the minute Wolf entered the bed-and-breakfast. He tactfully tossed his almost empty Styrofoam cup into the small trash can by the door. The small tables in the large, airy room were clean, each dressed with a checkered tablecloth. Fresh-cut flowers scented the air in vases on either side of the room. Wolf glanced at his clock. Betsy would be done serving breakfast. He guessed she would be either cleaning the rooms or in the kitchen preparing some delicacy for later that day.

Betsy wasn’t in the kitchen. It was as spotless and well scrubbed as the dining area. The large coffeepot bubbled and burped. He walked over to the glass pot on the warmer and reached for a clean mug resting in her dish drainer. That’s when he noticed the luggage by the door.

“Mr. Marley,” Betsy said behind him. “Good morning. I see you didn’t stay here last night.”

Wolf recognized his suitcases and his leather jacket neatly folded over the top of them. His other pair of shoes was in front of his luggage. There was a duffel bag that wasn’t his on the floor, leaning against the wall, next to his belongings.

He blew on his coffee and gestured to the luggage, grinning over his cup. “You didn’t have to empty my room. No offense, Betsy. I’ll be sure and be here at a respectful hour this evening.”

Betsy focused on the luggage and ran her hands up and down the simple gray dress she wore. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Marley. And I will definitely refund last night, as well as the remaining week, back to your card,” she said.

Wolf frowned. He didn’t know the old lady, but since he’d arrived here she’d been all smiles. Not that she wasn’t being pleasant now, but she definitely looked worried. He remembered Ben and Zoey telling him that Cortez’s men had been at the bed-and-breakfast the night before.

“What happened?” he demanded. “Are you okay?”

Wolf put his mug on the counter behind him and walked up to Betsy. She remained in the doorway but fluttered her hands in front of him, indicating she didn’t need or maybe want Wolf entering her space. He remained at a respectful distance, dropping his hands to his sides, and lowered his voice.

Trying to sound as calm and collected as possible, he pressed, “Did anyone try to hurt you last night?”

“Oh my,” she gasped, then walked to the large, round table in her kitchen and rested one of her plump hands on the back of a chair. “No. No, no one would hurt me. It’s never like that.…” Her voice trailed off.

“If anyone has threatened or bullied you, or your business,” he said, his anger rising at the thought of Julius and Brutus messing with the old woman, “you just tell me. I will take care of it.”

“No!” Betsy snapped, her watery light brown eyes alert when she focused on Wolf. “I’ve taken the liberty of gathering your things, and your friend’s possessions, Ben Mercy’s. I can’t let you stay here any longer. You are welcome to search your room to make sure nothing has been left behind.”

“You won’t let us stay here.” Wolf let the implication of what she wasn’t saying sink in.

Betsy lifted her gaze to his and set her jaw stubbornly. “Absolutely not,” she said sternly. “Please confirm all of your belongings are intact. If you don’t vacate the premises…”

Wolf held his hands out in surrender, and Betsy let her threat hang in the air between them. He imagined she had been a mother and possibly grandmother to be reckoned with. The old lady was always cheerful, gracious, the perfect hostess. Wolf saw now she would hold her own defending her business. Very much in the same way Angel did, except he’d ensured her safety. Had there been anyone here last night to protect Betsy when those two thugs had entered the bed-and-breakfast?

“It’s fine,” he told her, staying calm. “I’ll check both rooms and take the luggage out to my car.”

“I appreciate it,” Betsy Watson said, tight-lipped.

Wolf let his anger surface once he sat in his Escalade. The engine purred, and warm air cleared the frost from his windshield. He wasn’t mad at Betsy Watson. Whether she was scared, had been fed a line of crap, and now believed Wolf and Ben were no-good lowlives, criminals on the run, or whatever else deceitful story Brutus and Julius might have fed her, the old woman’s resolve was clear. Honestly, Wolf didn’t blame her. Betsy was no match for Cortez and his thugs. She would do what they said, however they said to do it, so she could continue to run her bed-and-breakfast as she pleased.

His rage grew as he became more familiar with a monster he had yet to meet. Cortez had turned the small oceanside community of Zounds into a repressed hell for those who lived here. And like many, the citizens of this town probably didn’t have enough money to relocate or maybe loved their town and put up with his crap so he’d go away and they could live in peaceful denial.

Wolf stared out the driver’s side window at the back of the restored old home that he already knew Betsy had raised her children and enjoyed a long, happy marriage in. That old lady didn’t deserve the bullshit Cortez inflicted, and all because he hadn’t managed to keep a leash on his daughter after beating her.

And all of which, overall, was none of Wolf’s business or anything he needed to distract him. A slow smile crossed his face as an idea surfaced. More like a notion, but it was a devious one. What if the Mulligan Stew assassin chose Zounds because Cortez was here? Anyone coming into the town would pop up on the crime lord’s radar. Inevitably, Cortez would have to be dealt with.

“What a fucking perfect distraction,” Wolf mused out loud, then spotted Betsy moving the blinds in her kitchen and peering out at him.

Wolf put his SUV in gear and slowly pulled out of the parking lot. He needed to call Ben and let him know they were officially without lodging. Wolf had Ben’s duffel, although when he’d lifted it into the back of his Escalade it had felt suspiciously light. Something told Wolf that Ben had taken anything incriminating or that he might need with him the night before when he’d run with Zoey.

Ben might think he was working an angle with Zoey, trying to get to Cortez. Ben possibly thought this was an avenue toward the assassin. Wolf was confident Cortez didn’t know about the Mulligan Stew assassin. The assassin had spent years remaining off all law enforcement’s radar while killing scumbags just like Cortez. Cortez wouldn’t want the assassin in his town. Not only because it would be highly unlikely, considering the assassin’s MO, that he and Cortez would have any kind of alliance, but also because Cortez wouldn’t want the law or any outside investigators, such as Wolf, coming into his town. If Cortez knew the Mulligan Stew assassin was anywhere near Zounds, he would have used every resource at his disposal to make him go away.