Page 11

Chapter Eleven

Shae

Danny glanced at me as soon as the guys had left. “Thanks for that. I think you just made his week. He hates bullies but add animals to the mix, and he’s ready to go postal.”

I wasn’t sure how to reply. To be honest, Danny intimidated me. He was closer to me in age than Drake, but skilled and clever. He always seemed to have the answers to everyone’s questions, and I knew Diesel was very protective of him. I knew Kane’s background and since I’d met him at the gym and he’d been involved in the fight scene, he seemed a lot less scary than his boyfriend.

I glanced down at Maxie. I knew I shouldn’t name him, but I did.

“You gonna keep him?” Danny nodded to the dog in case I was in any doubt about what he meant.

“Sure,” I said flippantly. “I’m day three into a job that may not last, I have nowhere permanent to live, and my body’s fucked. Taking on a pet would be a smart idea.”

Danny grinned and looked up. “You’re kidding me, right? Ringo’s so gone on you.”

A little part of my heart squeezed hopefully at Danny’s words, but I tamped it down. “Drake’s too up in his head about our age difference.”

Danny gazed at me. “Does it bother you?”

“No,” I said quietly. “He’s larger than life, if you get me. I don’t give a shit how old he is.”

“You know he’ll be thinking of you looking after an old man in a wheelchair.”

“I know,” I whispered. “But either one of us could die tomorrow. He makes me feel better about myself. He makes me feel like I could do anything I want.”

Danny nodded. “Well, you convinced me. What can I do to help you snag your man?”

I laughed so loudly I woke the dogs up. We let them out even though I didn’t really want to put Maxie down. The other two dogs were so gentle with him, and I knew he’d had his first shot so I doubted he would be unprotected. We went back inside and gave them all a treat. Then Maxie conked out again on my lap and Sadie and Magic curled up together.

Danny got back on his laptop.

I settled Maxie into a mound of blankets next to the other two and he never stirred, then I went to the fridge and got some chicken sandwiches together because I didn’t know if Danny and Kane had eaten.

“Hmm,” Danny hummed quietly, grabbing a sandwich, and I glanced over just as I heard Drake’s truck pull into the driveway. I met them at the door.

“He’s not there,” Drake said. “Place is a dump and no response from the mom either. We didn’t break in, but that may come later.” I glanced at my phone. It was nearly midnight.

“Well, she’s still listed as living there. Collecting social security,” Danny confirmed. “Although according to her emails, she missed her last two appointments. One with a doctor treating her for arthritis and one with her dentist.”

Danny glanced up. “We can ask for a wellness check tomorrow.”

I sighed, and Drake offered everyone a beer and popped his own can. Danny refused, but Kane took one.

“Did you speak to Rawlings?” Drake asked and glanced at me, so I knew why he was asking. He’d filled me in earlier about Albert.

Danny nodded. “Actually, we were already on our way here when Rawlings called for backup for you two with the dogs. He’s home, so it’s too far for him.”

“You were?” Drake sounded surprised.

Danny chuckled. “So, get this. I’ve been careful because I don’t want the marshals breathing down my neck, but with Albert’s age, the Texas angle, and the fact that a twenty-year-old vanished after testifying against the Texas mafia, I took an educated guess. There’re a couple of other possibilities, but this one is the most likely.”

I glanced at Drake, who looked as stunned as I felt. “The mafia?” I asked.

Danny shrugged. “More drug cartel. We’re not talking any Italian or Sicilian connections,” he said with a quirk of his lips. “But a Raymond Dagger owned a spread just outside of Fort Stockton. He’d owned it since his father, Bill Dagger, died five years before the DEA raid. He had a wife who died of breast cancer that same year and a son, Bert Dagger. No other children. From the trial transcripts, he claims he only agreed to store the drugs because the cartel threatened his wife and son, but he was up to his neck in gambling debts and payments to his account told a very different story. He died in jail over ten years ago. The only thing that’s sending up red flags is that one of the DEA agents was fatally shot in the leg. It caught his femoral, so an unusual kill shot if it was deliberate. They had no witnesses and despite extensive searches, they couldn’t match any of the seized guns with the bullet. Five cartel members all went down, one was already dead at the scene, and none of them could be persuaded to give up the shooter. Three months ago, Carlos Garcia was released even though he was originally given life without parole. They wanted to give him the death penalty, but they couldn’t prove who had killed the DEA agent. They needed the gun, but it’s never been found.”

Danny paused to let us take all that in.

“So, this is some revenge thing?” Drake asked, the incredulity coating his words.

“Not just. If the gun was found and they could prove a case, someone would go down for murder,” Danny said, way too cheerfully.

“I can understand revenge if they were going after Albert,” Kane said, clearly working it out. “But they’re not, they’re coming after Ringo.”

“Yes,” Danny agreed, “which makes the other option of the developer and the hundred acres more interesting.”

“Except they don’t need my place to develop that,” Drake said. “Yeah, if it was just my place and the farm, there’s an argument for needing mine for access, but if they can swing zoning changes for the protected farmland, my place wouldn’t matter.”

Danny shut his laptop. “I want to do some more digging. Thanks for the invite to stay, but I don’t have all my meds with me, so we’ll get going.”

Drake walked them to the door. I’d cleaned up the kitchen by the time he returned and he smiled at Maxie, who was snuggled up in his nest.

“I’m pretty sure tonight was personal, but we need to leave this one to the cops. I’m also ninety-nine percent certain Gary’s mom is dead, and he’s collecting the checks.”

“You’re not telling the cops about the break-in?” I assumed so when he hadn’t called anyone right away.

He shook his head, “I have no idea if anything is missing. What I will involve them in is the wellness check. I don’t like the idea that Gary Bruin has no compunction using poison and his mom is uncontactable.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. The thought of someone doing that was killing me. I’d have given anything to still have my mom.

“You’re tired,” Drake said softly. I was. I hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep the last few nights, for many reasons. “Look.” He scraped a hand over the scruff on his face but stepped up to me. “I know we had big plans for tonight, but how about we just get in my enormous bed? I’d feel a shit-ton better if I could touch you.”

I might have stood there with my mouth open for a long few seconds until I realized and closed it with a snap.

“Grab your dog,” he said and walked away into his bedroom. I was so shocked I didn’t even react to the “your dog” comment.

He was right. The bed was enormous, but I got distracted by Drake taking off his shirt, and I escaped to the bathroom after putting Maxie in his bed as soon as Drake came out of it. Drake pulled back the comforter. “I spent years in cots and bunks. My bed is a luxury I won’t skip now.”

“You were in the Marines, right?” I cringed internally at the stupid question. I knew he was. I just couldn’t get my brain to come up with something vaguely intelligent to say.

“Yeah, Rawlings, Danny, and Gray are all Rangers. We came across each other a few times and when I got out, Rawlings contacted me for his team.” I had a feeling it had been more than that, but who was I to ask?

I watched Drake strip nonchalantly, knowing I wanted nothing more than to climb in bed with him, but I was stuck in my own head not knowing what to do first.

"You gonna sleep in your clothes?" Drake asked, raising an eyebrow.

I hesitated, then slowly stripped down to my boxers, feeling suddenly self-conscious. As I slid under the covers on the other side of the bed, I was hyper-aware of Drake's presence just inches away.

"Relax," he said softly. "I don't bite."

I let out a shaky laugh. "Sorry, I'm just...not used to this."

"To what? Sharing a bed?"

"To any of it," I admitted. "The job, the danger, you..." I swallowed. “What a shit day.”

“Not all of it,” Drake said then fell silent for a moment. Then he rolled onto his side to face me. "I’m sorry about the puppy."

His eyes held mine, and I felt some of the tension leave my body. "I still wanna kill the bastard," I whispered.

“Killing’s too good for him,” Drake said darkly.

We lay there in silence for a time, and after a while I heard Drake’s breathing slow and knew he was falling asleep, but my mind was still too full. I rolled away from Drake because I knew if I didn’t I would spend all night doing something really lame like staying awake and watching him.

But Drake murmured, “Where ya goin?” lazily, like he was mostly asleep, and turned, scooting up behind me and throwing his arm over my waist to pull me into his chest.

My breath caught at the unexpected possessive touch. Drake's hand was warm and calloused, his grip firm but gentle. "Drake, I..." I started, not sure what I wanted to say.

"Shh," he murmured. "We don't need to figure everything out tonight. Just get some rest."

He didn't move his arm away, and after a moment I closed my eyes, the warmth of his touch anchoring me. Despite everything that had happened, despite the uncertainty of what was to come, I felt safe. I knew I felt a whole lot more than that, but at this moment safe was enough.

I blinked my eyes open to see the light shining brightly along the edges of the blind and guessed we’d slept in. My phone was somewhere in the kitchen, I thought, so I couldn’t check the time, but I didn’t especially want to move. Drake’s heavy arm was still draped across my waist, and I wondered if either of us had even moved. His steady breath warmed the back of my neck. I managed to stifle the groan as I felt his cock, hard as fucking nails, pressing against the back of my thighs, and my own got the message. Part of me knew I could move. Thanks to my ability, I could be dressed and in the kitchen making coffee before he even registered I’d left the bed. But another part, a more persuasive one, didn’t want to move at all.

He’d wanted me yesterday, before all the shit here had gone down, but I wasn’t sure if I had the guts to initiate something like I did in the truck. Rejection would be so much worse after yesterday. After spending the night in the same bed. I slid a hand down, helpless not to touch my aching cock.

As if sensing my mood, Drake stirred behind me. His arm tightened around my waist, pulling me even closer, although that was nearly impossible, and I had to stifle another groan as he pressed into me. I felt his nose nuzzle into my hair, heard him inhale deeply.

"Mornin'," he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

My heart pounded. "Morning," I managed to croak out.

There was a moment of stillness, and I wondered if Drake had fallen back asleep. Then I felt him tense, clearly becoming aware of our intimate position and his obvious arousal.

Without thinking, I grabbed his arm, keeping it around me. "Don't," I whispered. "Please."

Drake went still again. I could practically feel him weighing his options, considering the implications. Then, slowly, deliberately, he pressed closer, his lips brushing the nape of my neck.

"Don’t what?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

“Leave,” I whispered and pushed back against him, grinding my ass against his hardness.

Drake groaned, his hand splaying across my stomach. "Fuck, you’re playing with fire.” His hand moved lower, fingers grazing the waistband of the boxers I’d been too chicken to take off last night even though I knew he was naked. "It’s never too late to tell me to stop," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear.

I shivered, pushing back against him again. "I don't want to stop," I said softly. "I want this. I want you."

With a low growl, Drake tugged my boxers down and off, freeing my aching cock. His hand wrapped around me, stroking slowly, and I gasped at the sensation. His cock, aided by precum, slid between my ass cheeks and I groaned.

"God, you feel good," Drake murmured, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my neck and shoulder.

I reached behind me, fumbling. When I finally got my hand on his cock, we both groaned. He was thick and hot in my palm.

"Lube," Drake grunted, releasing me briefly to reach behind him for the nightstand drawer.

I heard the drawer close, then felt his body back against mine. I tensed instinctively, but Drake's other hand stroked soothingly down my side. “I know you guys don’t need condoms, but I can get one.”

I shook my head. Even if I didn’t already know Rawlings got them all tested every few months, I couldn’t catch anything.

"Relax," he murmured. "I've got you." Heart hammering, I forced myself to calm down. This would only be my second time, and the one before hadn’t exactly been porn-worthy.

I forced myself to breathe, to relax, as Drake worked me open slowly and carefully. He kissed my neck, reaching around to my front. By the time he deemed me ready, I was a writhing, panting mess.

Drake's fingers withdrew, and I whimpered at the loss. “Up on your knees, baby,” Drake murmured. I scrambled to obey and gasped when one of his hands came around to my cock. I worried for a moment I would shoot too soon, but then I felt the blunt head of his cock pressing against me. He paused, giving me a chance to object. Instead, I pushed back, silently urging him on.

With a low groan, Drake began to push inside, but he didn’t go very far. The stretch burned, and it grew painful, dragging me out of the fog my brain occupied. It was on the tip of my tongue to say something, to halt, when he drew back slightly to add more lube.

"Fuck," Drake breathed, his voice strained. "You're so tight. So perfect."

But I wasn’t anywhere near perfect. I was starting to see all the ways this could go badly wrong. If I couldn’t do this, if he thought he was hurting me, he would never touch me again.

"You okay?" he murmured, as if sensing I wasn’t.

I nodded, unable to form words. After a moment, I whispered, "I’m okay."

“Yes,” Drake said, “you are.” But I didn’t have time to question what he was doing because, at the same time as he withdrew, his lubed fingers came around again to stroke my cock. I closed my eyes in mortification because I’d softened, but he just whispered me to hush, and his clever fingers soon had me forgetting every worry. He clasped his own cock and stroked himself up and down my crack, reaching my hole and pushing in a little but withdrawing before I worried. In the end, I didn’t seem to know what I wanted more. His hand, his fingers, the tip of his hard cock, or the lips that seemed to find every bit of skin on my back that made me shiver when he kissed it. Everything in me tightened and my cock throbbed. My balls drew up and ached so much they were painful, but in a way I desperately needed.

“Drake,” I begged, not sure whether to press back against his cock, or forward into his hand.

"That's it," Drake growled in my ear, pumping my cock, his own like steel grazing my hole. "Let go. I've got you."

I came with a cry, pushed over an endless edge, falling into pleasure so intense, it seemed to grab my entire body so tightly I never wanted it to let me go.

He gasped, and I felt his rhythm falter as he fell mere seconds after me and followed me down. It took a long few moments for my thoughts to intrude and my throat dried. He’d come, but not inside me. Did that mean he hated it? How had he known it hurt?

Drake tightened his arms and pulled me back against his chest. “This might be your last chance to get out of being stuck with an old man.”

“And it might be your last chance to get out of being stuck with an inexperienced one,” I whispered, my voice catching even though I made an effort to sound okay.

He stilled, then moved, pushing up on one elbow. I tried not to catch his eyes, but he bent and brushed a kiss on my cheek, then lay back and pulled me over and against him so I was lying on his chest. I was sticky and pretty sure Drake was lying on the damp sheet, but he didn’t seem bothered.

“Not sure what you’ve done before or how far you got, but this isn’t about hurting each other. I’m likely to screw up enough, as you already know from yesterday, without doing it in bed as well.”

I didn’t reply. I didn’t know what to say.

“You’re a gift,” he murmured. “Not sure what I did in a previous life to deserve you, but as long as you want to be here, we have all the time in the world to work out what we both like in bed.” He smirked. “Or out of it.”

I slid my head up and met his gaze. “I want to be here.”

His face softened, but then his smile dimmed. “This isn’t conditional. Pleased don’t ever think you having somewhere to live—” But I settled my fingers on his lips to silence him, then followed it up with a kiss that only got interrupted by scrabbling noises and a soft whine.

We pulled apart and grinned. “You go see to your dog,” Drake said.

I rolled out of bed, grabbed my jeans and a tee, and picked Maxie up, heading for the door and outside because babies only had small bladders, and thought about what he’d said.

I’d probably just had the best night of my life, and I wanted more. I wanted every night to be like that.

I opened the door and jerked in shock at the lady who was just raising her clenched hand to knock on the door, her other hand clutching the hand of a little girl with gray-blue eyes and curly brown hair. “Mr. Shae Turner?”

I nodded, words escaping me. “I’m Carol Benson from children’s services in Jacksonville. May I come in?”