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“About an hour.”
“An hour?” he repeated.
“Yes, why?”
“That should be enough time,” he murmured, stepping back and taking her hand. “We can’t go to the motel and back, but I have another idea.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Very,” he replied, raising one wicked eyebrow.
* * *
Sitting behind his desk in his home office surrounded by two long-haired German Shepherds and a Schnauzer, Carl Elwood, leaned back in his chair and puffed on an expensive cigar. He’d just ended a call with his son, one of the smartest young men he knew. Whenever he made the claim, he always added he didn’t feel that way just because he was Duke’s father.
When there had been discrepancies in the parts department, Ken Atwood, the private detective on retainer, had been unable to find the culprit. But Duke tracked down the guilty party. If there was a problem with an important client, Duke’s easy-going manner could smooth their ruffled feathers. And he could sell the time of day to a man wearing a watch.
But Duke wasn’t just as sharp as a tack and as charming as a fairytale prince. He had a big heart like Marge, his mother, and was a devoted, considerate son. He would always let them know them if he was held up or might be unreachable.
When he called and explained where he was going and why, Carl felt nothing but pride. But when they’d finished speaking, anger began to boil up inside him.
Marge owned a horse. His name was Gabe. She’d rescued him from a bad home, and over time she had won his trust. She was at the barn every day, riding and taking care of him. Whenever Carl jokingly accused her of loving the handsome gelding more than she loved her husband, she’d laugh out loud and say he was right.
Carl couldn’t begin to imagine how devastated Marge would be if she ever lost Gabe to horse thieves. Anyone who would do such a thing belonged behind bars, but Big Bad John Foreman was walking away scot-free.
“That’s not right,” Carl muttered under his breath. “Nope, not right, no way, no how.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The moment Rick and Bailey entered the motorhome, Rick closed the curtains and ordered her to take off her clothes, go to his bed and lie on her stomach. In spite of his urgency, she softly kissed him, then ambled away, slowly stripping off to tease him, fueling his hot desire.
After pulling off his T-shirt, kicking off his boots and removing his jeans, he opened an overhead cabinet, lifted out a tube and followed her. Gazing down at her naked beauty, he straddled the small of her back and squeezed a dollop of gel into his hands. “
“Take a deep breath and let it out,” he said softly as he began massaging her shoulders.
“Oh, Rick, that’s absolutely amazing…”
“Damn, girl, you’re wound up like a bronc.”
“Your fingers are so strong,” she moaned. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”
“They need to be or I wouldn’t be on a bull for more than a second or two,” he said softly. “No more talkin’. Just sink into the bed and relax.”
For long minutes he kneaded away the cramped muscles across her back, eliciting deep moans and grateful sighs, but when he moved his attention to her thighs, she whimpered his name.
He knew what she wanted.
Rolling her on her back and stretching out beside her, he pressed his lips on hers and moved his fingers into her pussy. As he felt her slick wetness, energy flowed through his cock and his kiss became more fervent. Guided by her soft cries, he rubbed her clit, increasing the pressure as he sensed her drawing closer to her climax. Normally he would pause to tease her, and make her wait until she was begging for her orgasm, but this wasn’t the time.
“I need to come…” she gasped. “Please don’t stop...”
“I won’t,’ he promised, and lowering his mouth to her nipples, he hungrily drew them in, sucking urgently until the powerful spasms flowed through her body and she fell limp beside him.
* * *
Stirring from the post-orgasmic haze, Bailey let out a contented sigh and savored Rick’s muscled arms around her. For the first time since that dreadful morning all those weeks before, she was calm.
“How can I ever thank you,” she murmured, shifting in his arms and gazing up at him. “You’re my Superhero.”
