Chapter Three
Wes raised a hand and rapped his knuckles on the door of the small house needing major repairs. Hanging out in a dump like this wasn’t Van Atkin’s style. The fugitive was originally wanted on charges of a petty theft for shoplifting DVDs. Since jumping bail, he’d made stealing a part-time job. And evading Wes a full-time one.
A scuff of a step behind the door had him tensing, on red alert. Van Atkins had fled from him several times—gotten away every damn time too. He was starting to piss Wes off.
The door opened a crack and he peered at the face framed here. A woman, looking wary of life itself and not just Wes’s presence.
“Who’re you?” she asked in a drawl that was too Southern to be a Wyoming woman.
“Old friend of Van’s. He home?”
She gripped the door harder. “What makes you think he lives here?”
“Heard from a buddy o’ his by the name of Wilder that he’s here.” Wes shrugged, conjuring his inner actor. He’d learned acting like a buddy with the person’s best interests in mind got him further than marching in, threatening them with the full weight of the law. He acted like their friend, like he was doing them a favor by helping them get before the judge. And he told those harboring the criminals that he wanted the best for them.
Of course, he did. He wasn’t ruthless, but he was far from soft.
“You talked to Jack?” the woman asked.
“Yeah, though he said his foot’s been paining him. Guess he broke it a few months back?”
She nodded absently, eyes cutting to the side.
Wes could shove the door open and probably see his bounty standing there, instructing her about what to do or say.
He refrained.
“Can I come in, ma’am?” He tugged on his Stetson.
Her eyes narrowed. Yeah, she was definitely concealing Atkins from him.
“No, you can’t. Van’s not here. So I’d ask you kindly to leave.”
“Doesn’t sound so kindly to me,” Wes responded.
She moved to shut the door, and he planted a hand on it to keep that from happening. He pushed. She pushed back.
“Ma’am, this isn’t about you. I have a deal with Van that if he goes before the judge for his hearing that he won’t end up in jail for that particular crime.”
A smashing sound came from within, and Wes shoved the door inward in time to see his fugitive racing out a back door.
Wes whirled and ran. Leaping off the dumpy porch steps and hitting the ground at top speed. A big guy like him wasn’t a track star, but he was fast. He gained on his quarry. “Van! Stop right there!”
The guy ran willy-nilly, as Aunt Winter liked to call it, zigzagging through his neighbor’s yards, trying to throw off Wes.
A car screeched up on the street, the door flung open. Van dived into the open door and they peeled away, the woman at the wheel.
“Dammit.” Wes ripped off his hat and shoved his fingers through his hair. His heart was pumping hard but not from the run. He was pissed at himself for losing the guy again. His boss wasn’t going to like hearing it any better than Wes would like saying it.
He walked back to his truck parked some distance down the street and made the call. Got his ass chewed. His boss asked why the best bounty hunter this side of the Mississippi wasn’t able to bring in a simple shoplifter. But Wes had no excuses and didn’t offer any.
Finally, he started the engine and drove toward the town where Judd lived and worked as sheriff. As he navigated the country roads, he should be thinking up ways to finally nab his bounty, but his mind was back with the Bighorns… and Stormy.
The memory of the gorgeous woman clinging to him wasn’t something he’d soon forget, if ever. Her perfume seemed to linger on in his nose and it had been over a week since they’d been together.
By the time Wes walked into the sheriff’s office, his agitation came out in the form of a growl.
“Birdie. Where’s Judd.”
The woman sat behind the front desk, eyes glued to the computer screen. But at Wes’s less-than-friendly tone, she peered over the top of the unit with her best look reserved for the Roshannon boys.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “Do you know where Judd is?”
“Of course I do. It’s my job to know where the sheriff and deputies are at all times.” Her well-duh tone didn’t help Wes feel any better.
“Okay, so will you tell me where he is?” When she didn’t blink once at him, he added, “Please?” Damn, Judd’s office worker was a ball-buster.
At last, he got a smile from the woman. “Why, he’s down the road at the diner grabbing some takeout. I told him to sit there and have a meal, but he’s ornery as a coon in a garbage can. Once his mind’s fixed on something, there’s no changing it.”
Wes chuckled. “About sums up Judd. I’ll head down and catch him.”
Two minutes later, he spotted the familiar battered Stetson across the diner and angled for him. Judd stood as tall as he did, but Wes had spent years bulking up. In his line of work, you could never be too big. Stopping criminals wasn’t easy work—almost nobody came quietly.
Judd glimpsed him as he approached, and a smile spread over his face. “Cuz. What brings you to this neck of the woods? Hunting a new bounty? That dumbass Erikson is stupid enough to jump bail.”
He shook his head, meeting eyes the same hue of his own. “Nah, never seen anyone named Erikson come through the dispatch. I was looking into the matter I put on your desk last time I was in town.”
Judd pressed his lips together and gave a nod. At that moment, the waitress who didn’t look old enough to be out of high school passed a brown bag across the counter to Judd.
“Shouldn’t she be in school?” he asked Judd.
“Tell me about it. They’re looking young and younger.”
“Or we’re older.”
“Speak for yourself,” his cousin joked.
Wes snorted. “Do you want to sit and eat?”
“Hell, no. I can’t even find my desk. I’ll probably have to hold this container on my lap while I eat and work at the same time. Do you want anything?”
“Nah, grabbed a burger on the way.”
“Good. C’mon.”
In the parking lot, Judd waved for Wes to join him in his truck, but Wes stopped short of getting in. “Look, I just need to know the results of the DNA I gave ya. I have to get back to work.”
Judd cocked a brow at him. “Atkins again?”
“Yeah. Motherfucker ran from me before I came up here.”
“Either you need to get a sidekick or find a new way to corner him.” Judd shook his head.
“Yeah, I’ve never had so much trouble before. Not even from guys with much darker, more violent pasts.” Hell, he’d run terrorist groups to the ground easier in his days working for the government.
“Okay, but are you sure you wanna hear it in the parking lot?” Judd glanced around at the beat-up trucks and late-model SUVs with four-wheel-drive the people needed to traverse the mountain roads of Wyoming.
Wes dipped his head in a harsh nod. “I can handle whatever you have to tell me.”
Judd opened the door of his SUV and placed the food bag on his seat. Then he closed the door and leaned against the vehicle.
Fuck, this couldn’t be good news.
“Out with it.”
“That DNA doesn’t match yours, Wes.”
A sigh trickled out of him, but it didn’t take him more than a few heartbeats to recover. “That’s what I thought.”
“What the hell are you doin’, anyway? Lookin’ for a brother?”
“Sorta.”
“You can’t just drop shit like this in my lap without an explanation.”
“It’s not a match. Nothing more to say. Thanks for running the labs, Judd. ‘Preciate it.” With that, he started back toward his truck.
“Hold up. You coming to Eagle Crest anytime soon?”
“Hope to meet there next weekend, but it depends on what gets done between now and then.”
“Same here. My workload’s insane and I’ve been ignoring my wife. See ya when I see ya. Stay safe, Wes.”
He tipped his hat to his cousin and got behind the wheel. He waited a long minute for his heart to slow before pulling out, just breathing.
Sundance was not his father. He’d known it. But on many fronts, the information wasn’t a bit of comfort. Because now it meant there was only one other path to take.
And he wasn’t prepared for the outcome. Not yet.
He drove all the way back to his office and gave his report about Atkins. A few more fines were dropped on the man’s head and Wes was given new leads as to where he could find the guy.
He stared at the sheaf of wanted photos his boss handed him. Wes flipped through the papers. “I’ll take care of these the next few days and then I’m taking a week off. I have some business to see to.”
Such as driving back up that mountain to the biker club. Since leaving, every cell in him had been burning to see Stormy again.
His boss clapped him on the back. “Do what you do. I know you’ll get it done.”
Oh yeah, if he found Stormy within a mile of that club, he’d get it done, all right. Hard and thoroughly too.
He smiled genuinely for the first time that day.
* * * * *
Stormy lay on a sofa, one bare leg dangling off. Her shorts too short for her daddy’s tastes and her top riding up. But he wasn’t here. Nobody was except a few club girls.
The TV was on, volume low, but she wasn’t watching it. She was daydreaming about a big blue sky and taking the curves with her arms around a beautiful, muscled man.
She’d spent all of half an hour with Dirty and she hadn’t stopped thinking of him in more than a week. She’d heard DeeDee talk about Sam and wondered how she felt such emotions for him. She used words like love at first sight and love of a lifetime. Stormy hadn’t understood at all.
Until she’d met Dirty.
Maybe she was acting like a smitten schoolgirl, but there was an unspoken connection between them. And in those minutes alone with him on his bike, she’d experienced more living than she had in all her twenty-four years.
Suddenly, DeeDee walked in and stopped.
Stormy focused on her though all she saw in her mind’s eye was the big biker with steely-gray eyes. “What is it, DeeDee? Do you need help with something?”
The thin woman came into the space to lean against the arm of the sofa where Stormy lay.
She pushed onto her elbows. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know if I should be doing this or not,” DeeDee said.
Stormy sat up, tugging her top down over her midriff. “Spit it out, DeeDee.”
“Someone’s here.”
She was on her feet in a blink. She walked out into the main room. Across the sea of tables and chairs, she met Dirty’s warm, heavy gaze.
The corner of his lips tipped upward, all for her.
“Hey, you.” He took a step.
She did too.
“I shouldn’t be here with all the Bighorns gone, but I couldn’t go away without seeing you.”
She wove through the tables to stand before him. “Don’t go.”
His throat worked on a hard swallow and he nodded. “Okay, so do we need a chaperone of some kind? That woman who let me in?”
“That’s DeeDee, but no. I don’t need a chaperone.” She caught him by the hand and towed him back outside. The club door slammed shut behind them.
She paused to look up at him, head tilted back and her hair ticklish against her waist where her top had ridden up again. “I’m so glad to see you.”
He squeezed her fingers, his warm and callused, probably from that ranch work he’d mentioned.
He gave a small shake of his head that made her look closer at him. “What is it?” she asked.
“I have no idea how you’re more beautiful than I remembered because I thought my imagination was pretty damn wild.”
A pleasured sigh left her. “You’re different, Dirty.”
“I’m a man like any other.”
“But nobody else makes my heart beat this fast.” She took his hand and boldly placed it over her breast where her heart pounded.
He curled his fingers against her and closed his eyes for a brief second. When he opened them, the steel gray depths burned with a need that echoed through her own body. Crazy or not, she wanted him.
“Dirty…”
He moved his hand from her chest to cup her face. His long fingers extending to her temple and the heel of his hand cradling her jaw. She felt the power within him but knew he’d never harm her.
“Tell your dad I’m sorry,” he grated out.
“For what?”
“For this.” He swooped in and captured her mouth. His lips hard and demanding, his masculine scent of grasses and musk with a hint of leather making her head spin.
A moan left her as she went on tiptoe and kissed him back. Right in front of the door of the club in full view of any Bighorn who drove in.
She didn’t give a damn. What she’d known her entire life and what she wanted for herself were at war, and the part of her seeking something of her own won.
She braced her hands on Dirty’s broad chest and went on tiptoe to kiss him back. He traced his tongue back and forth over her lips until she parted for him. Then he snaked his tongue against hers with a primal growl.
“Fuck,” he groaned between deep passes of his tongue. He planted a hand on her spine and pulled her against him, and her body knew exactly how to mold to fit him. She was made for it.
“I can’t stop,” he gritted out.
“Then don’t. No one’s inside and my room has a lock.”
He withdrew, staring down at her, chest heaving. “I can’t, baby. Fuck, I want to.”
She wasn’t taking any of his chivalrous restraint bullshit. She grabbed his hand and reached for the door. Tugging the big man through the silent club had her adrenaline rushing. For a second, she wondered if the thrill of being a bad girl and going against her father’s wishes wasn’t part of her wanting Dirty.
But when they reached her room and he lifted her into his arms with a low, animalistic sound, she knew that wasn’t the case.
She wanted him. Now.
* * * * *
He’d spent weeks thinking of little else but the woman. Hell, he’d even dreamed of her, waking to find his cock stiff and throbbing with the echoes of her soft body lingering in his mind.
Now she was kissing the hell out of him, and damn was she good at it. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, drawing a rough moan from her lips. He fed a growl back to her.
“I fucking want you. But if you don’t feel the same, say so now.”
She pulled back to blink at him. Her eyes… fuck, they carried a mysterious light like a candle luring a man through a dark night to a safe haven.
“Why wouldn’t I feel the same? Lay me down on that bed and have your way with me, Dirty. Right now.”
He kicked the door shut and twisted the lock. Then he grinned at her demand. Hell, the tables were turned here. In the past, he’d always been the one giving commands, but he didn’t want any of his old tricks with this woman. She seemed too fresh, brand-new, for him to don that old hat.
He moved to the bed and set her down. Before she could even bounce on the mattress, he covered her with his body, weighting her thighs under his, her hands pinned overhead by his own.
Staring down at her shouldn’t give him that odd fluttering sensation in his chest, but it did. Un-de-fucking-niably.
“You’re fucking beautiful. I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you.”
Her lips popped open on his rough words, giving him a glimpse of her wet, pink tongue. Fuck, what he wanted to do to that tongue. The places he wanted to put it.
“Really?” she whispered.
He nodded. “These curves.” He slid his hands over her side, from the round of her breast to the indentation of her waist and down to her flaring hip. “But really it’s your eyes that draw me in.”
Now he’d gone and said something sappy and corny. She was a woman who lived among bikers—she’d think him ridiculous.
But she didn’t laugh. Her gaze burned up at him. “I want you too, Dirty.” Her touch on his jaw was brief and then she ran her hand down his neck to his shoulder. When she eased off his leather cut, he watched emotions play over her face.
Lust, longing. Excitement. And something he couldn’t put his finger on, even after years of training himself to read faces.
He kissed her again, claiming her mouth in a way that had them both gasping and half-naked by the time the kiss ended. Passion spread through his limbs as he hovered over her, touching her exposed skin for the first time.
Collarbones and the swell of her breasts. He dipped his tongue into her cleavage, tasting a sweetness that dizzied him. When he lifted his head, her eyes were glowing with need.
“Take me. Don’t make me wait anymore.”
He tore off her clothes, tossing aside her top that refused to stay in place, cutoff denim shorts and tiny panties. When she was completely naked and he was able to get a good long look at her, he dragged in a harsh breath.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Why would you hurt me?”
“I’m big.”
She offered a quirk of her lips. “I’m not going to break, Dirty.” She skimmed her hands over his bulge, following the lines of his cock from base to tip, arcing in his jeans. “Mmm, you are big. Let me see.”
He stood at the side of the bed to unfasten his jeans and kick off his boots. When he reached into the V of his fly and pulled his cock free, she wet her lips.
She ran her tongue right over that plump lower lip in a way he’d carry with him all the way to his grave. She was fucking perfection.
She skimmed her hands over her breasts. “I want to taste you.”
He gave a rough shake of his head. “Not now. Because I’m going to taste you.”
Starting at her lips, he nibbled his way down her body, giving special attention to her nipples and the flat of her stomach before reaching the soft tuft of curls between her legs. Her rich scents had his cock at full mast and aching like never before. The tip leaked pre-come in a steady stream. All he wanted was to bury himself between her lush thighs and find ecstasy.
When he sank his tongue between her ripe pussy folds, he issued a groan and she answered with a throaty cry. Need spread through him as he explored her, but it didn’t take him long to find what she liked.
Her clit hard on his tongue, he alternated between drawing circles around it and pressing it into her body. She fisted his hair, dragging him where she wanted as her ass lifted off the bed and she ground against his mouth.
“Oh God… Your mouth’s so good. I’m so close. Make me come, Dirty. Make me…” She broke off on a rasp as shudders vibrated his tongue and juices squeezed from her folds.
He shot upward, his balls ready to burst. He couldn’t take more time or it would all be over. As he searched his jeans for a condom and finally located one, he squeezed his fist around the head of his cock, staving off his impending release.
Stormy lay on the bed, beautifully disheveled and pink from her orgasm. Her knees modestly together and her eyes full of hazy desire. “Hurry.” Her whisper sent him reeling.
In one swift jerk of his hand, the condom was in place. He nudged her thighs apart and poised at the quick of her.
She used her heels against his ass to drag him into her. The minute his cock was buried deep in her hot, tight pussy, he lost his freakin’ mind. Couldn’t stop the movement. He pulled out, slammed back in.
She clung to him, her lips roaming over his as he claimed her well and fully.
The tight clutch of her pussy around his cock was the stuff dreams were made of, and he gave himself up to sensation. Her soft body under his hands, her scents on his face and her flavors on his tongue as he thrust into her again and again.
Easing his hands under her ass, he drew her up to receive his plunges. She threw her head back, trembling. On the verge, he realized.
Hold out. Hold the fuck out, Roshannon. His command barely did the trick.
The instant her pussy squeezed him so tight with her release, he was pouring his load into her, hips pumping, an oath muttered.
“Fuck yeah. Fuck, baby. Fucking coming.”
What he should have said was, I’m a fucking goner.
* * * * *
When the Bighorns returned, Stormy was clothed and seated at a respectful distance from Dirty with DeeDee not far off. But when the guys filed into the room and spotted Dirty, she felt their disapproving stares on her, making her neck hot.
Or maybe Dirty’s rough five o’clock shadow had burned her skin when he’d kissed every inch of her neck, down her spine to her buttocks.
Her body clenched at the memory of their encounter. If it never happened again, she would hold it close to her heart as one of the best moments of her life.
He stood as the guys entered the room, between cutting glares his way and worried looks hers. DeeDee got up to embrace her man. He said something in her ear and she nodded. Then she slid her gaze to Stormy.
She held her breath as the last guy entered the room and took note of the man who was not a member of the Bighorns and his only daughter sitting in the same room.
“That’s it. Outside.” Her dad twitched his head to the door for Dirty to follow.
“No. Dad, what are you doing?” She got up and rushed to him, praying she didn’t smell as much like Dirty and sex as she thought she did.
Dirty came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Stormy.”
“Get your hand off her.”
The three of them made it outside and DeeDee and Sam followed. Stormy was grateful they had her back. She had no idea how to make her father see she wasn’t a kid and his behavior was uncalled for. Dirty was a good man, as good as any Bighorn who came to this club.
But that was the problem—her dad would never let her have any relationship with anyone in or out of the Bighorns. He’d taken his protective act through her teen years right into adulthood. He didn’t see her for what she was, and right now she was a woman half in love. Who wanted to hop on the back of Dirty’s bike and have him show her a bigger world than what she had right here.
Her father squared up against the man who’d just thoroughly and very satisfyingly loved her. She attempted to move between them but her father gently set her aside.
“Stormy, stay out of this.”
“How can I when it’s about me? You don’t want Dirty around me because you know I like him.”
Dirty jerked his gaze to her. Her heart throbbed at what she saw there and prayed her father didn’t see it too. Dirty wanted her as much as she wanted him, and anybody with eyes could tell. DeeDee had known it from day one and there was no stopping the momentum now that they’d touched each other.
Her body still hummed from the pleasure he’d given her and she could taste his body on her lips.
“Fuck. I knew I couldn’t trust you. Should have killed you after you took my daughter on a ride without my permission.”
“Sir, I’d like to get on your good side in this matter.” Dirty glanced to the side where two Bighorns had just pulled in with a truck. They got out and carried a duffle bag past the group in front of the door.
Stormy could guess what was in that bag—weed they liked to party with and probably the supply of Oxy and other things they enjoyed. She stayed out of that crap and as far as she knew, her father did too. Alexander had always been a concern to her, but she couldn’t control him any more than her father could control her.
Her father waited till the pair disappeared inside the club before speaking to Dirty. His brow low, eyes narrowed. “You want to see my daughter.”
“I do.” Dirty didn’t cower in the face of her father’s glares.
“You aren’t a Bighorn. Not even a new recruit.”
“What does that matter, Dad? I can be with someone else. A rancher even.”
Dirty met her gaze.
“Is that all he is? A harmless shit shoveler?” Her father grunted.
“I’m asking your permission to see more of Stormy, sir.” Wes reached for her hand, and she entwined their fingers, clinging tight. She was on the verge of happiness or hell. But if her father sent Dirty away without his blessing, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t find a way to see him again.
And again.
He was in her system now.
Her father gave a hard nod. “I’ll think on it. In the meantime…” He pointed at the road.
Dirty squeezed her fingers one more time and looked into her eyes. Then he released her and walked over to his bike, got on and rode away. She wanted to yell for him to take her too. The club didn’t feel as free as it once had.