His Runaway Mountain Bride by Madison Faye

It was hours before we collapsed onto that bed again—this time utterly spent. My entire body ached, my balls were sore from coming over and over. But goddamn, it was like I couldn’t stop with her. And Lucy was the same way. The first few times, it was just me staying hard and just going right back to taking her when we’d both come. But by the fifth time, it was like I’d awoken some sort of sex demon inside of her. I swear that girl could have killed me that night with the way she refused to let me rest—teasing, stroking, sucking, and fucking my cock back to life every single time until I was practically near death.

But fuck me, what a way to have gone.

Eventually though, we were both just done, lying in each other’s arms on the bed in that tiny cabin barely coherent. Lucy panted, her sweat-slicked skin glistening and glowing. Fuck, she was a mess—this beautiful, sexy, fucking goddess of a mess. Her hair was wild, her skin was marked with my fingerprints, her ass red from the spanks that’d sent her over the edge more than once over the past few hours. My cum dripped from her pink pussy and covered her thighs and tummy—another few ropes across her perky, gorgeous tits, and more in her stomach from the time she’d pinned me to the bed and swallowed my cock until I’d erupted across her tongue.

“I think we need a bath.”

She giggled, rolling into me and nuzzling my chest. “You maybe, me for sure. Jesus, Rowan,” she groaned. “I feel like one of those porn stars that screws a whole football team or something. Except there was just one of you.”

I chuckled deeply, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head.

“My God did I need that though,” she whispered. “Why are you so annoying good at that?”

I laughed again. “Baby, you just bring it out in me.” And she really did. I’d been with girls before Lucy—I mean I was five years older than her. But being with Lucy had been like going from a tricycle with training wheels to a souped-up Harley. Sex with that girl was unlike anything I’d ever even conceived of before. I honestly couldn’t have remembered a single detail of any experience before her if I tried. All I knew was, when I was with her, I craved her. I fucking lusted after her like a drug addict fiends for a hit.

“I just bring it out in you, huh?” she grinned.

“Damn right you do.”

I kissed her softly, but I felt her stiffen a little, and I pulled back. She chewed at her bottom lip.

“Anyone else?”

I frowned. “What?”

“I mean has anyone else brought it out in you?”

“Lucy, no. Not even the same game.”

“No, Rowan,” she said quietly. “I mean since. You know, since I ran.”

I scowled. “What, other girls? Seriously”

Lucy looked away. “Rowan, it’s been two years. I mean—”

“No,” I growled without hesitation. “Not a one, angel. Not even close.”

She bit her lip as she looked up into my eyes. “You haven’t had sex since we were together?”

“Of course not.”

She blushed bright red, a smile teasing her lips. “Wow.”

I snorted. “C’mon, what do you mean ‘wow’?”

“I mean you were insatiable!” she giggled. “Rowan, we were like twice a day people.”

“And then you left.”

“Exactly. So…”

“So, I guess I went cold turkey.”

She grinned at me curiously, shaking her head.

“You haven’t come in two years?”

I laughed deeply. “Yeah, I never said that.” I grinned at her hungrily. “I’ve got plenty of videos and pictures that the two of us made.”

Lucy blushed fiercely, and my eyes suddenly peered into hers.

“And you?” I growled quietly.

“What?”

“You know what.” I mean, if there had been, I’d have been pissed, for sure. But then, I knew there wasn’t a man on earth who could handle this woman like I could. And I knew if there had been another guy, that poor bastard had shoes to fill with her where the bedroom was concerned that he couldn’t have filled in a million fucking years.

“What, any other guys?”

I shrugged. “Just curious.”

“Oh, hundreds.” I saw that smirk on her face, but I still saw red for a half second before she grinned impishly. “I’m kidding, obviously.”

“Brat.”

She giggled. “It’s more like zero.”

“Like zero.”

“It’s actually zero,” she whispered. “I—no. I never wanted anyone else. You ruined me,” she said quietly.

We slid together, kissing slowly as I groaned into her lips.

“So, you haven’t come in two years, huh?”

She snorted a laugh. “Oh, fuck that,” she giggled. “You’re not the only one who saved dirty pictures and videos.”

I grinned as I swept her into my arms, and goddamn if my cock didn’t begin to swell all over again. Lucy whimpered when she felt me.

“Okay, yes, but first, I really seriously do need to bathe.” She glanced across the small cabin at the big copper tub. “How does that thing even work?”

“I’ve got it,” I grunted, kissing her before I slid from the warmth of her arms and the bed. “Keep the fire roaring, and I’ll go outside and get some snow to melt.”

“Might want to put some pants on,” she giggled, arching a brow as she looked right at my half-hard cock swaying between my legs. “Wouldn’t want that to get frostbite.”

“I think I know a way to warm him up,” I growled.

“Oh, I know I know a way to do that,” Lucy said throatily. She grinned at me. “Okay, you go get our frozen bath water, I’ll work on the fire.”

****

Outside, in clothes, obviously, I pulled my phone out of my jacket pocket. I screwed on the antenna attachment to be able to get service thought a dedicated Bureau satellite link. My superior, Dante, knew I was out in the field poking around at something to do with Anthony Marcello, but I still needed to check in now and then.

I glanced back at the cabin and dialed in the secure line, giving my check-in code before they transferred me to Dante’s office.

“Good, I was hoping you’d check in today.”

Dante Moreno was a good guy, and a pretty decent boss. He’d been the one to reach out to me when I’d filled out an interest application to the FBI when I was still just a cop in Lockton. We’d met up, and I guess he saw potential in me. A lot of potential, actually, because through Dante, I skipped probably years of basic bullshit and went right into field officer training.

Dante was a good enough boss that I was even almost considering discussing my recent reservations about the nature of my job with him. Maybe, at least. I still wasn’t sure if my “doubts” would be seen as “liability.”

“Hey boss, just wanted to connect and let you know I’ve got some notes I need to type into reports. You’ll get them in the next week or two.”

Dante cleared his throat. “You’re still on the Marcello thing, right?”

“Yeah, and I think I might have—”

“I need you to drop it with them.”

I frowned. “What?”

“Anthony, the family, all of it. I need you to stand down from any and all operations involving them—surveillance or otherwise.”

My jaw clenched tight. “Dante, what the fuck are you talking about.”

He sighed heavily. “Rowan, Anthony Marcello is turning Federal informant.”

“On his own family?”

“Nope,” Dante muttered. “He apparently might have some leads into guns being funneled to ISIS.”

My vision went red.

“Dante, that’s fucking bullshit, and you know it!”

“Well, it is what it is,” he muttered.

“Chief, it’s a lie to buy time and get out from under surveillance. The mob guys in New York and Jersey were pulling the same shit after nine-eleven. You claim you know some shit about terrorists, and you get to walk for the shit you’ve done. It’s the move now when they know we’re closing in.”

Dante sighed again. “Like I don’t know that? Rowan, trust me, I’m fucking pissed too, but those are the orders.”

“Well, they’re shit orders.”

“Might be, but that’s how chain of command works.”

“Anthony is going to walk now, you know that, right?”

“Rowan, you don’t have to like it, but you do have to do what I’m ordering you to do. Keep away from Anthony Marcello and the rest of his organization.”

“Goddamnit, Dante—”

“That’s an order, Agent Turner,” Dante snapped. “Look, I know you and I have a looser relationship than some department chiefs and their agents. But right now, I’m not your fucking friend. I’m your ranking superior, and I’m ordering you to stand down. Understand?”

“Chief, I don’t think I can do—”

“You can, and you damn well will, or so help me God, Rowan, your ass will be out of the Bureau. We can be friendly, but this comes from high up, and this is a direct fucking order. Do not test me on this one, and do not under any condition touch Anthony Marcello or his people.”

Whoops.

I thought about the four shitheads of Anthony’s I’d dropped the night before, which I hadn’t reported in yet.

“We’ll speak soon, Rowan.”

Dante hung up, and I glared at the phone as I took it away from my ear. I unscrewed the satellite link and shoved it and the phone into my jacket pocket before I turned to glare out over the frozen beauty of the mountain.

My job was to stop the bad guys. That was it. That was the entire reason I’d chosen this life. To stop the bad guys and protect the innocent. But now I was supposed to just let them walk. And they didn’t get much “badder” than Anthony Marcello and his crew—drug running, pimping young girls, preying on the weak. The mob in general was pretty bad, but Anthony’s brand of gangland shit was on another level of cruel and sadistic. And I was being ordered to let him get away with all of that because he’d sold the government some bullshit fiction about having terrorist intel.

…But I couldn’t do that. I knew in my heart I couldn’t. Not when it could mean Lucy got hurt, or any other innocents for that matter. In a fair world, a monster like Anthony Marcello would be killed like a rabid animal, and the world would rejoice. Except thanks to bureaucratic red tape, he was going to walk away from any and all responsibility for the crimes he’d committed.

Rage burned hot inside of me as I yanked my badge out of belt and glared at it. The badge was a shield, and a shield was supposed to protect those who depended on it for protection. I took a breath and swore into the beautiful silence of the snow around me, shoving the badge back away and reaching for the buckets I’d hauled outside. I packed them with snow and headed back for then cabin.

As pissed as I was, I had every confidence in the world that a warm, tight-quarters bath with my wife was going to very much take my mind off of things…