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"It's not in a good way if he stole drugs. That could even mean death."
Chapter20
He probably could have eased into the death comment, but he wanted to see her face to see if she still had feelings for Waylon. It irritated the shit out of him that she was even with him in the first place and the more he'd gotten to know her, he realized she was nothing like Waylon. Thank fuck for that.
"Do you mean death as in Waylon or me or both?"
He stood before her, caging her in on the counter with his arms on either side of her and leaned in closer. He could smell her fresh scent again, and his cock came to life thinking about her body pressed against him just moments before. It was time to see just where they were with each other. This playing with a kiss here and there was beginning to drive him mad. If she wasn't interested in taking things further with him, he'd leave here tonight and go find Bobby Ray to put distance between them so his head—and his cock—could get a damn rest.
"I don't know the answer to that. If they think you're lying to them or holding information from them, they could just as easily kill you as him. I don't say that to scare you, but for you to know who you’re dealing with. From the intel I have, Marcus works for the El Pablo Cartel. Does that name ring a bell with you? Ever hear Waylon mention it?"
"No." Her lip twisted as she bit at the inside once again.
He could see her heartbeat in her neck, and it was racing right now.
"They're bad news. Mexican. Vicious. And anyone in their way seems to end up missing or dead. You're fortunate they still think you're valuable."
"Oh my God." Her hand flew to cover her full soft lips, her eyes round. "I have to get out of here." She started scooting off the counter, but he held her in place by holding her legs in his hands.
"There's nowhere safer than here, Megan; that's why I brought you here. It's also why I had the cops stop Marcus out of town, so he couldn't follow us."
"But, he can find us. Real estate records are searchable."
"This house and all my land, Emmy's house, and Dawson's house are all owned by LLC's. Our attorney is our registered agent, and our names are nowhere on any documents that trace our companies back to us."
"You all act like you've been through this before," she said softly.
"Honey, my job brings me in contact with bad people. So does Emmy's. For twenty something years, we've had all of our properties protected, and Dawson's just for good measure. We've been careful and deliberate about everything. Sadly, it didn't protect my parents, but they were killed not because of their connection to either Emmy or me but because Dad caught Bobby Ray snooping around their property in the back garage and kicked him out. Bobby Ray didn't take kindly to that and came back that night and torched their house while they were sleeping.”
"Oh. My. God." Her hand flew once again to her lips, and the instant tears that sprang to her eyes touched him more than anything else. She felt bad for his parents, and that meant she felt. It was more than he ever got from Tamra.
His heart felt full and heavy at the same time. The thudding of it made him feel more alive than he had in a very long time.
Her delicate, smooth hands then framed his face, her thumbs caressing his cheeks, his eyebrows, the lines he knew were at the corners of his eyes. He swallowed the emotion that lodged in his throat as she continued looking into his eyes. Hers spoke volumes. Need. Emotion. Want. Connection. The green of them the most beautiful color he'd ever seen and which was now his favorite color. He'd paint the den this color if he could match it up, so he could sit down there and feel like she was surrounding him when she was gone.
"Why haven't you divorced?" She said it softly, almost as if she were talking to herself.
Her lips touched his, gentle first, searching, testing. Soon their lips were devouring each other, both of them letting go, tasting, exploring, and enjoying the other. She tasted like freshly brushed teeth—minty and unspoiled. Her recently showered body still held the aroma of the soap in the bathroom and a fresh spring breeze. When her hands dug into his hair and fisted gently, his cock roared to life. His arms pulled her to the edge of the counter, and from this height, the apex of her thighs was right in front of his cock, which strained to break free of its denim prison. Her legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer still, and he was lost. He scooped her from the counter, his lips still tasting hers, sliding along the soft wetness of her lips as they molded to his. Had he ever known a kiss could feel like this? Doubtful. This was dizzying.
She moved from his lips and began kissing her way down his jaw, his neck and back up, and he had the presence of mind to tell her what they were about to do to give her a slim chance of saying no.
"I'm taking you to bed, Megan."
"Yes." She hummed it along his neck as she continued to nip and nibble. As they entered his bedroom, he stood alongside his bed and claimed her mouth once more, his hands roaming down to cup her bottom. Her firm globes fit his hands perfectly, and he squeezed, which caused her to bite the tender skin where his neck met his shoulder. The feeling sent blood raging to his cock which grew so impossibly hard he thought it would explode.
Removing one hand from her delicious bottom, he balanced himself with his knee and hand as he moved them to the middle of his bed, pleasure flooding through him when she clung to him with her arms and legs so she didn't fall. Once in the middle, he set her gently down on her back and allowed some of his weight to pin her there while his hands were now free to explore her delicious curves and valleys.
He leaned up just enough to pull his shirt over his head, and her intake of breath was satisfying in itself. She stared at his chest, her fingers roving the hair and warm skin there, enjoying the planes and valleys of his muscles. When her fingers grazed his tightened nipples, she toyed with them, running the pads of her thumbs over each tightened disk then pinching them just hard enough to make his breath huff out.
He reached under her T-shirt and ran his hands over her warm, soft flesh. He could tell his hands were rough as they skated along her ribs, her stomach, scooting up under her bra and pushing it up to free her breasts. Glancing down, he saw her nipples pucker tighter, and he couldn't resist running his roughened thumb over the tight peaks which caused her to buck.
A slow smile spread across his face; little Miss Megan liked it. Mighty fine, indeed. Pinching the nipple a bit harder, her back arched and her legs wrapped around his as she bucked up into him.
"Oh darlin', we’re going to have a good time," he husked out.
His mouth encircled her breast and sucked in hard as the rest of his body enjoyed her bucking and writhing under him. Her legs loosened and tightened around his, and her pussy rubbed against his thickened cock, seeking more.
Moving his head across her chest to her other breast, he continued enjoying her flesh, her movements, her moans. Her hands dug into his hair and pulled him closer to her. He pulled back and lifted her T-shirt over her head; she eagerly helped him, her bra next. Then her hands reached down between them and unbuttoned his jeans. As soon as the button was free, one of her hands dove in and wrapped around his hardness and pumped as much as she could within the confines of his clothing.
