Fox Hunt Page 11

  I closed my eyes against the sting of tears, swallowing hard to regain control over my emotions before I made my last confession. “If I go home now, without doing what I set out to do, it’s one more time that I messed up. I can’t do it, Theo. I just can’t.” I turned and buried my head in the crook of his neck. I didn’t care that our relationship—or whatever it might be called—wasn’t at the cuddling stage yet.

  Buddy wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer. He rubbed his cheek against the top of my head. “Damn it.”

  “What?” I asked into his shoulder. The events of the day had exhausted me, and I couldn’t think of a better place to be at the moment. And since Buddy didn’t seem to be pushing me away….

  “I knew it. My objectivity is shot to hell.”

  “Huh?”

  “We’ll find somewhere to stay tonight, and head to New York tomorrow. That’s the next stop on the trip, yeah?”

  I jerked up. I needed eye contact to make sure he wasn’t fucking with me.

  “There are conditions.”

  “Figured. Such as?”

  “We’re going to take precautions. If we assume—unlikely though it may seem—that any or all of the events over the last few days are actually threats to you specifically and not random, then how do we explain that?”

  “But—”

  He raised a very effective eyebrow at me. I snapped my mouth shut.

  He said if. “Okay. If. If we assume I am a target, that means that they—whoever they might be—are somehow tracking us. They could be following us. They might have intercepted the itinerary information I sent to my family. Maybe electronic surveillance. GPS tracking on my phone. Satellite imaging.”

  He nodded along with each of my suggestions as though it were totally reasonable for someone to be following us with satellites. “I’m kidding, Buddy. Most of those options are entirely ridiculous.”

  “Which ones aren’t entirely ridiculous?”

  “Someone could be following us, but I still think we’d have noticed. Especially since you’ve been so vigilant.”

  “Okay. We’ll be extra vigilant from here on out. What else?”

  “Well, the Moreau Initiative, who I think I’ll start calling the Moron Coalition just for kicks—”

  “David,” he said on an exasperated sigh.

  “—clearly have some advanced technical skills. The speed they backtracked my hack is proof of that. So it’s possible they could have hacked my emails to Aiden and Darren.”

  “Okay. We deviate from the itinerary as much as we can. Cancel your hotel reservations and choose hotels at random. Maybe at places that are thirty miles from the schools on the days of your interviews. The interviews are the tough part. If they know when and where they are, they’ll know exactly where to find you.”

  “And sure, with the right tech, they could probably track my phone. And there’s enough tolls around here that theoretically they could totally be tracking my car if their skills are good enough. Which they probably are.”

  Buddy shook his head. “What you’re saying is, your ridiculous options are, in fact, completely feasible.”

  “Not the satellites,” I offered. “I’m pretty sure.”

  “I shouldn’t agree to this. Not at all.”

  “Why did you? What changed your mind?”

  He looked at me with such tenderness, my throat tightened. Jesus, that expression. It did things to me.

  “You didn’t try to bluff your way out of it,” he said. “Didn’t spin it. You acknowledged the potential for risk, so I know you’re not rushing in blindly. I think we can take some reasonable precautions. But, David?” He narrowed his eyes at me.

  “Yeah?”

  “One more event or situation, no matter how unlikely it may seem, and we’re out. I will hogtie you and send you back to your mom. If something happens to you because I’m not strong enough to say no to you… I don’t think I’d be able to come back from that.”

  Chapter Twelve

  WE were most of the way through Ohio, on our way to the Pennsylvania border, before I finally convinced Buddy to stop. It was three in the morning and no matter how “fine” he claimed to be, we’d been awake for almost twenty-four hours. About three hours into the trip, after a quick stop near Indianapolis to get gas, Buddy had given up all pretense of relaxation. The soft and gentle Buddy, the one who’d held me earlier, had disappeared, and in his place was a stone-faced bodyguard. He’d pulled the same thing after the altercation along the freeway—had it only been thirty-six hours ago?—and I hated it. Knowing Buddy a little better, I could tell the bodyguard persona fit him badly, like a too-small suit.

  Buddy had found a small motel in a no-name town near the Cuyahoga Valley National Park. The bleary-eyed clerk didn’t even blink when we paid in cash. A younger guy, he spent more time watching the television show he had streaming on a tablet on the desk rather than interacting with us. He didn’t even ask for ID or check the registration before handing us the key. We could have registered as Yogi Bear and Boo-Boo and he wouldn’t have noticed. My tired brain giggled hysterically at the thought. Buddy was a bear who did yoga… making him… a yogi bear…. Yogi Bear?

  Our room lacked the personality of the one in South Dakota, but this place was from the same era. When we opened the door, we were both too exhausted to comment on the single queen-size bed in the middle of the room. We dropped our bags and, without even stopping to brush our teeth or change into pajamas, crashed on top of the bedspread.

  I WOKE up to sunlight streaming across my face and something heavy pressing me into the mattress. I cracked open my eyelids and peered down, my heart nearly exploding with warmth. Buddy Brady was a cuddler. At some point while we slept, he wrapped both arms around my torso, flung one meaty leg over my thigh, and used my chest as a pillow. Given how much taller he was than me, he had to curl himself into almost a fetal position to accomplish the full-body bear hug I was getting. It reminded me of the way I used to snuggle my teddy bear as a kid. I felt cherished and protected, and very, very needed.

  And hot. Christ it was hot. The air-conditioning hadn’t been turned on, and combined with the summer temperature and sunlight streaming in, the room was roasting. Adding on a couple hundred pounds of bear blanket made the heat almost unbearable.

  But if I moved, it would wake Buddy. So I stayed still, watching him sleep.

  His hair tickled my chin, and I couldn’t help but nuzzle in. Sweat amplified his granite-and-pine scent, and I wanted to roll in it, to surround myself with it. I closed my eyes to savor the nuances of it and something pulled tight between my heart and groin. Crap. I needed to get up before he noticed my body perking up. I could probably play off the erection as morning wood if I had to, but that wouldn’t explain the racing heartbeat or the musk of arousal. And damn it, I needed to stop—thinking about it seemed to be making the reactions stronger.

  I had to get up before I did something stupid. Like grind into him or something equally embarrassing and inappropriate.

  I scooted a little to the right.

  Buddy sighed and snuggled closer.

  I pried at the arm he had draped around me.

  He squeezed me tighter.

  I gave up on subtlety and tried to pull out from under him.

  He grunted.

  It was only then that I noticed that his breathing had changed. He no longer had the deep, slow cadence of sleep with the quiet snores that I found ridiculously adorable.

  “Damn it, Buddy, I need to pee.”

  “You sure?”

  His knee inched up, coming dangerously close to my boner.

  I choked. Sputtering, I asked, “What are you doing?”

  He rumbled, nuzzling his face into my chest. “Something I’ve wanted to do for a while now. Something I shouldn’t be doing.”

  He rolled until his body fully covered me. Even through the thick fabric of his shorts and the denim of my jeans, the heat from his erection seared me. I flashed to an image
of him naked the day before, and the knowledge that his very proportional anatomy strained for me scrambled my brains. He levered over me, his thighs pressing between mine, forcing me to spread my legs wider to accommodate him.

  He rested his forehead against mine. “I want to kiss you. Can I?”

  I thought briefly of morning breath and toothbrushes, but the intensity in his gaze chased such mundane worries away. I reached up to thread my fingers through his hair, grabbing tight and dragging his head down to mine. “Yes. Always yes. Please.”

  Our last kiss had been about comfort and appreciation. Attraction and desire were there, of course, but it hadn’t been this incendiary. The minute his lips touched mine, the quiet haze of drowsy cuddling exploded into passion and yearning. There was nothing sweet or tentative about his kiss. He demanded entry, thrusting his tongue past my teeth. It was hungry and wet and frantic. It was everything I didn’t know I’d needed.

  He pulled back with a growl. “I fucking love kissing you.”

  “Same. So much the same. Don’t stop. Never stop.” I arched up into him, licking at his lips, his chin, anything I could get in my quest for more. More contact. More pressure. More pleasure.

  I tugged at the hem of one of his seemingly unending supply of Buddy’s Café T-shirts. “Skin. Can I?” I gasped between kisses.

  “Yes. Whatever you need.” He trailed his mouth down my throat. The scrape of his teeth along my Adam’s apple caused my toes to curl.

  I slid my hands under the soft cotton to touch the even softer skin along his sides. I glided my fingers along his ribs, making him squirm. His mouth latched on to my neck. I tilted my head to give him better access, digging my nails into his skin in reaction. “Can’t take off your shirt if you don’t stop.”

  He reared back and tore the T-shirt over his head.

  The silky trail of hair across his chest and down his abdomen was too much temptation. Like I’d wanted to do in the forest yesterday, I pressed my face into his chest, nosing through the hair and licking here and there to get the full effect. I’d never known how sexy a hairy chest could be. Now I wanted to spend hours exploring the changing textures, tracing the line where chest hair met smooth skin, and following the arrow of hair south toward the thicker patch of dark hair surrounding his cock.

  “You too,” Buddy said, bunching the fabric of my shirt in his fists.

  It was awkward, what with the way Buddy straddled my hips making it hard to sit up. But I eventually pulled free of my shirt, tossing it to the foot of the bed.

  His eyes glazed as he looked down at me. “You are by far the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

  What caught me in that moment was that he didn’t take his eyes off my face. He wasn’t talking about my body, though I hoped he was pleased by that as well. He cupped my cheek, glancing his thumb under my eyes as though trying to wipe away an eyelash or a tear. I turned my head and kissed his palm in reply.

  It was a tender moment, but that wasn’t what I needed right then. I didn’t think it was what Buddy was after either. “Theo, I want to be with you. Can we…?” I searched for the right word.

  He growled, repeating my words from a moment before. “Yes. Always yes. Please.”

  The tension ratcheted up a couple notches. He shifted to all fours so he could lean over me. He captured my mouth again, just as fiercely as our last kiss but with new intent. This was possession with purpose. By the time he lifted his head, I was a panting, squirming mess.

  He inched backward, nibbling down my neck, then detouring to suck up a mark at my collarbone. He continued his path south, circling one of my nipples with his tongue while teasing the other with his thumb. I arched into the touch.

  I wasn’t normally a passive lover. I gave as good as I got. But I was so overwhelmed by the sensations Buddy created in me that it was all I could do to keep from babbling nonsensically. I told myself I was going to take care of him as well as he took care of me, but then he did something with his teeth on my nipple, and I groaned, logical thought disappearing. A few minutes later, when his mouth continued its southward explorations and nibbled at my belly button—closing in on my painfully hard dick—I knew I had to take drastic measures or I’d end up coming too soon.

  “Enough,” I gasped.

  Buddy paused in his attentions to meet my eyes. There was a question there amid the lust. A reassurance that no matter how far gone he was, he’d stop if I asked him. Sexy, considerate bastard. How could he be that damn perfect?

  “I need a minute to catch my breath, and you need to catch up.”

  He raised his brows at me, and I tried to not get distracted by his slightly swollen lips, a testament to what he’d been doing to my body.

  “Swap places with me.” I pushed at his shoulders. He did as I asked, and I immediately missed the weight of him on me.

  When we’d rotated so that he lay on his back and I straddled his lap, he grinned up at me. “You look like an angel.”

  I snorted out a laugh. “Really?”

  “A debauched angel, perhaps. But the sun is hitting just right that your hair glows. It looks like a flaming halo.”

  “A debauched angel. I like it. But if you can come up with big words like debauched, then I need to get my act together.”

  His chuckle cut off abruptly when I reached down and gripped his dick through his shorts, even as I mashed our mouths together.

  I maybe should have worked my way to grabbing his cock. I hesitated, wondering if I should have taken a different approach, but I had some serious ground to make up. Before I could overthink it, he groaned and pressed harder into my hand. I got the point, so I began to stroke his length.

  “Damn it, David.” His eyes rolled, and he squeezed his lids shut. His lips moved, and I realized he was counting under his breath.

  I chuckled. “Seriously? You’re practicing your breathing technique right now?” I altered my motion a bit, adding a little extra friction at his tip. He sputtered, and it looked like he lost count.

  “Trying not to blow,” he admitted. “Wanted this for so long. It’s too good.”

  And if that didn’t just swell me up with pride. He wanted me badly enough that he had to resort to yoga to keep control?

  My grin might have been a little bit evil. “We can’t have that.” I shimmied down the bed, snagging the waistband of his shorts along the way. I looked up at him, waiting for his okay.

  He nodded quickly before holding his breath.

  I pried the button free from its hole, and carefully drew the zipper down. The fabric parted, displaying Buddy’s red boxers stretched tight over his cock. Red. My new favorite color. I tugged both the shorts and the boxers down his thighs. Seeing him naked before his shift was nothing to seeing him excited now. He was breathtaking.

  His chest rose and fell in an increasing rhythm. I peeked up at him through my lashes, one more attempt to make sure we were on the same page.

  His face flushed raspberry red and his eyes were glazed as he watched me. Oh yeah, he was into this.

  I wrapped my lips around the flared head, not breaking eye contact. His whole body seized, and he grabbed my hair. Not quite pushing me farther onto him but enough that I knew he didn’t want me to stop.

  His taste exploded on my tongue. He tasted like he smelled—the complex granite-and-pine scent translated for my taste buds. I hollowed my cheeks, taking more of him into the heat of my mouth.

  “Holy shit.” His fingers clenched, and the slight sting in my scalp urged me on. I bobbed and sucked, savoring his flavor, his scent, and the little sounds he made. He tugged at my hair, urging me to look up at him. “Not yet. Can’t come yet.”

  I blinked at him, his words taking a minute to process.

  He rolled us again, maneuvering me onto my side before dragging me toward the middle of the bed. He divested me of my jeans and briefs in less time than it would have taken me to do it myself. When he scooted around so that his head faced the foot of the bed, I caught on. Fuck
yeah. He swallowed me down even as I took him back in my mouth. The combination—the heat and pressure on my dick, and the taste and feel of Buddy’s cock on my tongue—took me to the edge of orgasm in short order. His talented mouth drove me to the brink, and I almost forgot what I was doing as pleasure washed over me.

  I cupped his balls in one hand and circled the base of his cock with my other, even as I renewed my attentions to his dick. He grabbed the globes of my ass and squeezed. My hips jerked, and I groaned. His hands were huge, so when he held me like that, his fingers naturally grazed my crease. The shallow, shadowy contact had me pressing back, eager for more. I wanted him inside me, and if he couldn’t actually fuck me, then I’d take what I could get.

  Buddy read my reaction correctly, thank goodness. He removed one of his hands, took his mouth off me to suck on his first two fingers. When they were wet enough, he reached back down, and very deliberately traced over my hole, teasing and massaging it. Nerves zinged and adrenaline pulsed, and I shook. I rocked back into the touch, searching for a deeper touch, a deeper penetration.

  He slid the tip of one finger inside me, and I gasped around his cock. “Theo, please,” I moaned around him. “More.” I couldn’t stop myself from pushing back, seeking the pressure I craved. Not only did I want more, I wanted him to be as gone with pleasure as I was. I sucked him in rhythm with my rocking body.

  He growled deep in his throat. After that it was pressure and friction and heat. It was hands and mouths and cocks. My brain flickered off as my body wound tighter and tighter. Every second I got closer and closer to detonation. Buddy was right there with me. He held me a little nearer, and his moans got more desperate. He swelled in my mouth, his flavor intensifying before his climax hit.

  “David!” His rough shout was enough to bring me to the brink. Seconds later, brain, body, and soul exploded.

  “Oh God, Theo!” I’d never experienced an orgasm like it, and the sheer magnitude sent my already reeling brain into orbit.