Zane gave her a sharp smack. “Don’t you stop what you’re doing. You suck that cock, babe.” He sensed her hesitation. “I’m just playing. Nothing but my finger tonight.”
Nate took control, growling at her to be still. He softened the command with long strokes of his hand on her hair, and she went back to work.
Zane found the gorgeous, tight rosette of her ass. It was perfect and would fit him tighter than any glove. He worked the lube in, his dick throbbing. He massaged the puckered hole, dipping in to the first knuckle of his middle finger. A small plug. He’d have to work her up slowly. He gently pushed in to the second knuckle. Callie moaned around Nate’s cock, and her asshole quivered around his finger. He thrust gently in, back and forth, stretching her. After a moment, she pushed back against him. She ground her ass against his hand.
“Fuck, if you want to go together, you better be fast.” Nate was struggling. His face was contorted in a familiar look of agony. Nate pumped into her mouth. “She feels so good. Our woman knows how to suck a cock.”
Zane pulled his finger out, her little rosette clenching all the way. Now it seemed like a damn good thing the place was so small. He moved to the sink and washed up, all the while watching her as she sucked Nate hard.
His partner was right about one thing. He needed to get inside her and quickly. It had been a good thing he’d given her that first orgasm because he wasn’t sure he would last long. He moved back into place and gripped her hips.
He lined his cock up to her pussy and plunged in. She was so tight he had to wiggle and fight his way in. Her pussy was slick, facilitating his penetration. She moaned and ground back against him. Nate was holding her head, fucking her mouth freely now. Zane knew he had one thought and one thought alone. He wanted to come. Zane wanted that, too, but he was the one responsible for Callie now, and he’d have to hold off. Her tight pussy pulsed around him. His eyesight dimmed, and his brain felt fried. God, he was never going to last.
“Finish off and help me, man.” He managed to get the words out as he tunneled further in. Almost there. He was almost all the way in. Callie’s ass tilted up, and he slid home, his heavy balls touching her skin, getting coated in the cream that was pouring off her. He held her hips, forcing her to be still. He wanted a moment to savor the feeling of being buried inside her. He wanted to take her without the stupid, idiotic rubber between them. He would fill her up, and he wouldn’t let her wash it off for a while. They could sleep that way, stuck together, juices mingling.
Fuck, he was going to blow.
“Oh, yeah.” Nate moaned and ruthlessly pounded into her mouth. His hips swung forward, head fell back, and Zane could hear Callie hurrying to drink down the semen. Zane’s hips started moving of their own volition, little thrusts back and forth. An appetizer.
Nate came out of Callie’s mouth with an audible pop. Free from her duties, Callie shoved herself back at Zane. His dick was impaled fully, and there was no stopping now.
“Finger her clit, please.” Zane was begging because his balls had drawn up. He couldn’t go until she did. How did she do this to him? He could fuck for hours, but she had him coming like a schoolboy.
Nate moved quickly. Zane could see his partner was already getting hard again. He moved to the side and slid his hand under to find her clit. Zane was pretty sure Nate was accurate because her pussy clamped down like a fucking vise, and she moaned. He felt her come all around his cock, and his leash was off. He hammered into her with no thought to her comfort, only the blinding need to mark her. She was his, and he didn’t mind that she would be sore in the morning. That was what it meant to be his woman. In exchange, he would follow her around like an awfully big lapdog. He was fine with that. Any dude who wanted to call him pussy whipped hadn’t fucked Callie. And never fucking would.
Zane gritted his teeth against the roar that came as his cock exploded. Semen streamed out of him, pulsing over and over. He ground into her until he didn’t have anything left and then pushed one more time, staving off the moment when he had to leave her.
He slumped forward, his body covering hers, pushing her into the fabric of the couch. When he looked down he could see the smile on her face.
“You okay, babe?” He’d ridden her hard.
“More, please.” Her breathy request made his cock jump again.
Zane could feel Nate on the couch with them. He should roar and shove the other man away, maybe beat the shit out of him. Why didn’t he feel that?
Because Nate loved Callie, too. Because Nate would protect her with his life.
He kissed her and reluctantly pulled out. “I bet I can arrange that, babe.”
Despite the earlier events, he felt lighthearted. He forced himself off the couch. Nate already had a condom in his hand and was rolling it on his dick as Zane was pulling his off. Nate turned Callie over and had her spread eagle and penetrated in a heartbeat.
“Oh, baby, you feel so good.” Nate thrust in and out. Callie wound her legs around his waist.
Zane watched them. Again, no hot need to grab a knife and kill the man fucking his woman. Instead, Zane knelt by Callie’s head and kissed her. She was the one. He had known that for six years. He’d been through the fire, the crucible as Nell had called it. Was Callie the one who could make him whole again? Could make him alive again?
She was sweet and funny. She made him laugh, and somehow, when she was around, he was sure he would be okay. How did petite Callie make his big, dangerous ass feel safe? His tongue tangled with hers, and he knew he wouldn’t question it. He loved Callie Sheppard. He needed Nathan Wright.
God, could they make it work?
It didn’t matter. Not tonight or for the foreseeable future. They were stuck together. Nate was groaning on top of Callie, and she was coming again. Zane saw her face flush, heard the sweet purr that came out of her throat. Zane let his face get buried in that mountain of hair on her head. He loved the scent. This would happen again and again while they were protecting her. Maybe, after a while, it would be something none of them could live without.
Suddenly that didn’t seem like such a bad thing.
Chapter Eight
Nate could smell it. Though he wasn’t sure what “it” was. That scent was bad news though. He knew that much. It filled the air with a sickening acrid scent that clung to everything. It was a little like a barbecue, but there was a coppery tone to it. The smell was making him sick, and he didn’t need it. He needed to be steady. The heat from the August sun had baked the Texas border town to a crisp, and now that it was dark, the ground still held the sizzle. Sweat was dripping off his forehead, getting into his eyes and burning.
Nate held the Glock tightly in his hands and glanced at the men around him. He was their leader in this case, and that meant he had to lead by example and not give in to panic.
Stay calm. Remember your training.
It was so fucking hard. He’d been Nate Rush, outlaw biker, for years. Becoming DEA Special Agent Nathan Wright again was difficult. Nate Rush wanted to walk in, guns blazing, and damn the torpedoes. Nate Wright knew what would happen if he did. Rushing in without a good plan would get Zane killed in the crossfire. He needed to give the MET time to get into position around the warehouse. He’d already risked a lot to get to El Paso and organize the mobile enforcement team. He wasn’t going to screw it up now. The guards who surrounded the warehouse were dead or hog-tied in the back of the MET unit’s van. There were only the core members of the Barbarians to deal with, but they wouldn’t go down easy. He had to think of this in terms of his job—get in, arrest the bad guys, collect the evidence, get out alive.
But that professional thought didn’t do anything to calm the churning in his gut. Zane was in there and had been for hours. When Nate had left, Zane had been tied to a chair while the gang took turns using him as a punching bag. Why wasn’t Zane screaming? At least he’d been spitting bile and vitriol when Nate had managed to slip away hours before. He felt like he hadn’t breathed in hour
s and hours, not since that moment when he realized Zane’s cover was blown.
The leader of the MET made a chopping motion with his hand. It was the go signal. Nate kicked the door in and entered hell. He heard gunfire and finally realized what that smell had been.
Zane.
“Sweetie, you need to wake up now.”
Callie’s voice and the soft touch of her hand pulled him out of the nightmare. He breathed deeply before opening his eyes. Mountain air. Pine. Bliss. He tentatively opened his eyes, and Callie smiled down at him.
“You were having a bad dream,” she explained needlessly.
He shook slightly, trying to rid his head of the images. Zane on that fucking slab, pieces of his body still sizzling from where those assholes branded him. He’d been so still. Nate had thought he was dead.
“Asshole, your pansy-ass bad dream sent my butt to the floor.”
Nate sat up. Sure enough, Zane was sprawled on the floor on the other side of the bed. Callie sat beside Nate, knees pulled to her chest. She was all soft skin and a hint of a smile. Zane, on the other hand, was one hundred percent pissed-off man. And he was alive. Nate could even look at the scars this morning without feeling so guilty he had to turn away.
“Sorry.” Nate managed not to laugh. Zane was tangled in a very feminine quilt. It had come with the cabin. Maybe it was time to think about replacing some of the items that didn’t go with their personalities, like the rose and bunny covered quilt.
Zane stood up, tossing the quilt at Nate’s face. He scratched his belly and stretched. “I’m taking a shower, and then I’ll start breakfast. Then I’m going to find a bigger bed. My legs hang off this one, and Callie elbowed me all night long.”
She grinned. “Well, you two took up all the space. I had to sleep on top of Nate.”
A bigger bed was definitely in order. Zane brushed his lips across Callie’s and walked out toward the bathroom. The single bathroom. This cabin wasn’t big enough for the two of them, much less for three. And pretty much everything was falling apart. Zane would be lucky if his shower wasn’t icy cold because the water heater was wonky. All the appliances looked like they’d come from antique stores.
Damn it. He couldn’t afford more. He couldn’t even afford a separate living room. It was squeezed in with the kitchen and dining room.
At one point in time, he could have offered Callie a mansion.
“What is that look about?” Callie regarded him with a worried expression on her face.
What was he supposed to say? Well, baby, I was thinking about the fact that I can’t support you. I was thinking how sad it was that you slept with a man who can’t buy you a Valentine’s Day present, much less the ring you deserve.
Her hand came out to cup his face. “It’s okay, Nate. I promise I won’t give you hell at work.” There was a sad smile on her lips and a dullness to her eyes that hit Nate straight in the heart.
“What do you mean?”
She pulled her hand back and scooted to the edge of the bed. Her head darted around as though looking for her clothes. “I mean I’m not going to be some clinging vine, Sheriff. I’m a big girl. This was a fun fling.”
Nate pulled her back down, pinning her to the bed. He needed to make a few things clear. He could handle it if she wanted to walk away because he had nothing to offer her, but this wasn’t a fling. Not even close. He covered her with his body, spreading her legs wide with his knees. His cock immediately responded. He was hard as hell and seeking relief. There was no place for Callie to go, and she looked up at him with a sheen of tears in her eyes.
Nate stared down at her. She was so lovely. “How do you think this is supposed to work, baby?”
She tried to shrug, but he held her arms high over her head. His chest lay against her bare breasts. “I have breakfast and go home. I see you at work, and we behave professionally.”
“Not going to happen.” He couldn’t help himself. She was close, and she was wet. God, she was so wet. What had she been dreaming about? Nate let go of her hands. He got on his knees and grabbed a condom, rolling it on with precision. “This isn’t a fling. This is your future. Get used to us.”
He fitted himself to that warm pussy and thrust home. Even after all the sex of the night before, she was still tight around him. He had to strain to get his cock in. He pushed in balls deep and held himself there.
Callie’s brown eyes weren’t dead anymore. They were alive with heat. “Nate, I don’t know about this.”
“I do. Trust me. You aren’t going home. You’re staying with us for the foreseeable future. And I have no intention of behaving professionally.”
He pulled out and flexed back in. Her pussy clung to his cock, sucking at him. Last night had been fast and furious. This morning was different. This morning he wanted to take his time and make it last. He wanted to fuck her for hours. He could spend the morning exactly like this, pumping in and out of her pussy. He sighed at the connection humming through his blood. This was where he wanted to be.
“What did you expect?” Nate asked as he twisted his hips on the downstroke. “That I would pretend we aren’t lovers?”
Her legs wound around his waist. She pressed back against him. He knew she had to be sore, but she accepted him anyway. “I guess I didn’t think we would be. You won’t stay here for too long. You only promised Stef you would work out Rye’s term. That’s up in less than a year. You don’t like it here.”
He wasn’t sure what his feeling about the town had to do with anything. “I like you. That’s what matters. I’m crazy about you.” He twisted his hips slowly, grinding against her pelvis. He loved the way her eyes closed, and she groaned. He could see the pulse in her throat leap. “I am so crazy about you.”
He kissed her and stopped talking. He showed her how he felt, worshipping her body with his. He thrust in and out, in and out. He lost himself in the scent, sight, and feel of her. Callie clutched at his shoulders. Her legs tightened, and she sighed as she came. The sweetest smile lit her face. He’d enjoyed the hot sex of the night before, but he loved this, too. After she came twice, he thrust as deep as he could go and let himself go.
He collapsed on top of her and cuddled against her. Zane could bring them breakfast. He wasn’t leaving the bed. Maybe never again.
There was the sound of glass breaking, and Zane shouted. Nate was on his feet in an instant. His heart was racing, but he had trained long enough that he knew it wouldn’t show on his face. His face would be stone cold, and every movement would be precise.
“What did he break?” Callie asked, wincing at the sound.
It hadn’t been Zane. Nate knew it instinctively. His entire being had gone into protective cop mode. Two windows. Small, but of the proper height for a headshot. He stood clear. Callie was in a good place. The cabin walls were actual logs, built in the thirties. As a barrier to bullets went, they were about as good as it got.
The bedroom door burst open, and Zane plowed through. He had on a pair of jeans, and his hair was wet. “We have to go.”
Zane tossed a T-shirt toward Callie along with her purse and pulled his Sig Sauer out of the nightstand.
Callie’s eyes were wide as Nate found his Glock and quickly checked it for bullets and flicked off the safety. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and reached for Callie’s hand. He was proud of the calm way she was handling the whole thing.
“Barbarians?” Nate asked.
Zane’s entire body was a study in concentration—his breathing steady, his hands curled around the gun. “Probably. Someone tossed a Moltov cocktail in the window. It caught the curtains on fire. I couldn’t get it out. The living room is going slowly, but it’s going.”
Callie was reaching for her cell.
“No, baby. We have to go.” They would have to leave everything behind. The cabin was solidly built, but the carpet was old and the curtains thin. They would catch quickly and burn hard.
She hit a single button. “You have your weapons, and I have m
ine. Hello, Marie. I’m out at Marnie’s old place. Someone’s attacking us. Yeah. Okay.” She let the phone fall into her purse. “Marie’ll take care of it.”
Nate wasn’t sure what the fifty-plus-year-old owner of the Trading Post was going to do against an outlaw biker gang. He’d met Marie and her “life partner” Teeny. While Marie was solidly built, Teeny was a little bird of a woman. Nate peeked behind the curtain, making damn sure Callie was behind him. He couldn’t see anyone waiting, but he knew they were out there. The fire was a way of getting them to flee. They would be walking right into a trap. God, he should have killed Ellis when he had the chance. The leader of the Barbarians was still a thorn in his side from his cushy prison cell.
“I’m going out first. I’m the one they want.” Zane shoved back the curtains, and Nate pulled Callie out of the way.
She tried to get to Zane. “You can’t go out there!”
Zane gave her a sad smile and pushed her hair back. She’d managed to get her glasses on, and he kissed the bridge of her nose. “I have to. They’ll be looking for me. If I can distract them, Nate can get you to the car and get you out of here. Don’t even think about disobeying me right now.”
“I’ll get her to the car and then come back for you.” He had no intention of leaving Zane to the wolves. Callie could drive to the station house, lock herself in, and call for help.
“What the hell?” Zane breathed the question. His eyes widened as he looked out the window.
Nate joined him and shocked jarred through him. There were fifteen small cabins in this part of the valley. Every door was open, and their neighbors were coming out. Each man and a couple of women had a shotgun in their hands. In the distance, Nate could hear a siren wailing. Logan was on his way, somehow. He sighed. Logan was Marie’s…sort of son. Apparently Marie hadn’t made her boy quit after his foray into biker bars.
He heard the sound of shouting and then the unmistakable roar of a bike coming to life and driving away.