No Fox to Give Page 8

  “But I’m going to tell you anyway, because I’m tired of hiding and being isolated from everyone I know. My brother is going to lose his shit when he finds out, but he should be used to it.”

  Her startled blue gaze darted to his face again. “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “No. I’m tired of hiding the truth from everyone I’ve met here. I’m here under witness protection because my ass got tangled up with some bad people, and now I need to stay here for a time. Could be months. Could be longer. I just don’t know. But this guy after me has had it in for me for a long time, and I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”

  “Then why are you?”

  “I guess I feel like I can trust you.”

  She blinked a few times, blue eyes trained on his face. Her cheeks went pink. “You trust me? You don’t even know me.”

  “Ellie seems like a good judge of character, and she loves you.”

  “You don’t know Ellie either.”

  “I know a great mother when I see one. That’s all I need to know about her.” Maybe he was partial to single mothers on account of his own and all she’d done to shelter him from his father over the years.

  “Okay.”

  “Just give me a second to clean this up and get some fresh drinks. I need more than beer to tell this story.”

  Madeleine nodded. “Take your time.”

  He gathered their empty paper plates and gestured for her to follow him. After dumping those in the trash and washing his hands, he mixed cherry vodka sours, because Ellie had said they were Madeleine’s favorite cocktail.

  Together, they sat at the kitchen nook’s tiny table for two.

  “Like I said, this dude and I have history together. I dealt drugs for him as a kid.” Pete was going to kill him. If he could help it though, Pete would never have to know that he’d blown his cover.

  Maddie sucked air between her teeth. “Did you do them too?”

  “Me? Nah. I mean, I smoked a joint once or twice, but I never touched the hard shit. I mostly sold it out of my dad’s automotive shop for him and his boys. Never touched anything myself aside from the occasional blunt, you know, but then I had other opportunities. I got a chance to get away from this area and I cut that shit out. Went away and joined the Army for a couple years. Got away from Texas altogether.”

  “And then came back?”

  “After eight years. I would have stayed in longer but I took a bullet, and that was the end of that.”

  Her fair brows raised. “One bullet took you out of the military?”

  “Oh yeah.” He chuckled. “My kinda luck, you know. They had to fly a hotshot doctor in to remove the round since it almost paralyzed me.”

  Her expression softened, immediately flooding with regret and sympathy. “I’m sorry. That must have been rough.”

  “It was, and it wasn’t. I took the shot because I knew I could survive it. The human they were aiming for wouldn’t have. It just seemed like a fair trade, you know? My career for his life.”

  “Would you do it again?”

  “Fuck yeah. Frank sent me a photo of his baby girl about a year after I was shipped home.” He picked his phone up from where he’d placed it face down on the table, swept his finger on the screen, and pulled up a photograph of a pink-faced newborn. “They named her Deanna. Said if not for me, she wouldn’t be here.”

  12

  Maddie’s heart melted. She loved babies, though her only experience was with Emma and a host of second cousins. “She’s beautiful.”

  “Isn’t she? She’s about to turn six,” Dean carried on, swiping to the next photo.

  A rosy-cheeked girl with dark pigtails sat on a swing set, beaming at the photographer.

  “That kiddo has a father ’cause of you.”

  “Yeah…Looking at her pictures makes it all worth it, you know? I couldn’t take it back for anything. Sure, life isn’t exactly what I wanted it to be, but I’m happy. I make a decent living. Got a nice place back home, too. My life was going good, Maddie, honest. I had never been happier.”

  “What placed you on this guy’s radar again?”

  “My own stupidity. A few weeks ago, an ex-girlfriend I used to date in high school texted me a booty call.”

  “How’d she even get your number?”

  “It hasn’t changed in years. I knew she continued to run in the wrong circles after I left, but I went to her place anyway because I was stupid. So, I go to her place and before things can even get started, this guy I once worked for is beating on her door, screaming for her to let him inside. I was so far removed from my old life that I didn’t realize they were a thing. She made me hide in the closet and begged me to stay there.”

  “Oh no.”

  “The confrontation began downstairs and moved through the house because someone told this asshole I was there. He probably had goons watching her place. I didn’t know it at the time, but I know now that he owned the place where she lived. It was one of his drug houses, and he’d put her up there so he could come by and fuck her whenever he wanted.“

  “God.”

  “I know. Crazy, right? He tore the house apart looking for me, room by room. I could have left at any time through a window, but I had to stay and make sure he didn’t hurt her.”

  “So he found you?”

  “No,” Dean said grimly. “Some nights when I’m lying in bed, I fucking wish he did. Before he yanked open the closet door in her bedroom, I shifted and hid beneath a pile of clothes. She swears up and down someone told him lies. The whole time he screamed that her pussy belonged to him now, I was under a pile of blouses, debating whether to bust out in human form and fuck him up or mind my own business, because if I did come out, he would know she was fucking around. And maybe when I’m not there to protect her, he’d really fuck her up.”

  “Right. Doesn’t do any good to intervene if she isn’t ready to leave her abuser. You did the right thing.”

  Dean sagged deeper into the dinette chair. He’d heard the same thing a dozen times since it happened, but finally, he believed it. “Everyone says that. I figured I could wait for him to leave before I tried convincing her to go somewhere else.”

  “It was a good plan,” Maddie said gently, touching his knee. He needed that touch. He needed her warmth and her confidence in him, reassuring him that he wasn’t a bad man or a coward. That he hadn’t made the wrong choice in Sarabeth’s moment of need.

  “He calmed down. I relaxed, and I thought, ‘Thank fuck. I don’t have to hand him his ass after all.’ Then he pulled out a gun and shot her.”

  The pale hand on his knee tightened, but Madeleine said nothing. She didn’t recoil in disgust. He saw no judgment in her eyes. Only sympathy and understanding.

  “I’d seen death before, I’ve killed before for this country, but it never stops scaring you. I was stunned speechless, and that’s the only thing that saved me. He left her dead body there and walked out because he had no idea I was even there.”

  “But now he knows?”

  “I reported the crime to my brother. He’s FBI now, and they’ve been trying to shut this guy down for a while. Problem is, somewhere along the chain of law enforcement, news got to Sarabeth’s murderer that I turned him in. He’s a powerful man. He has connections in Texas and people are so afraid of him they won’t take the stand. But I said I would.”

  “So now you’re in protection.”

  He nodded.

  “It’s brave of you. You couldn’t save your ex, but you’ll get justice for her.”

  “I hope so.”

  Gentle fingers grazed the back of his hand, caressing his knuckles. “Thank you for trusting me with your story. Dean isn’t your real name, is it?”

  “Actually, it is. It’s my middle name, and it’s the name my family and closest friends use.”

  “Good. I like it.” Her smile banished what remained of his guilt.

  Maddie reached past him and took his glass. With grace that didn’t belong in
his kitchen, she moved to the counter and remade their drinks, sliding one in front of him.

  He sipped it and spoke the first words to come to his mind. “Stay for a movie?”

  Her blue eyes sparkled. “I hoped you’d ask.”

  * * *

  Four hours, one eight-by-ten-inch pan of peach cobbler, an unknown number of cocktails, and two movies later, Madeleine was pleasantly tipsy and wondering why the hell she’d ever wanted to keep Dean at a distance.

  At some point during the second flick, she’d dropped her cheek on his shoulder and never raised it again. If she tilted her head just right, her lips would caress his throat. He smelled so good, the spicy scent of aftershave on his neck and jawline a perpetual temptation she fought to resist as much as she fought the urge to kiss him.

  Wait, why was she resisting?

  For absolutely no reason, especially when she’d left the house in only a maxi dress without undergarments.

  “I could watch this movie over and over,” he drawled, chuckling at Benedict Cumberbatch’s portrayal of Doctor Strange. “Which Marvel movie is your favorite?”

  “Aquaman.”

  “That’s DC, not Marvel.”

  Maddie raised her head just a bit. “Yeah, but…” She walked her fingertips down his chest, tracing the definition of sculpted pectoral muscles that challenged even Jason Momoa’s hot body. “He’s still my favorite. But if I have to choose a Marvel film, I guess Wonder Woman is it.”

  “Now you’re fucking with me.”

  “I am.”

  “Does this mean you’re a DC girl?”

  “I am. Sorry to disappoint.”

  “Nah. I’m not disappointed. Honestly, babe, you’d be freakishly perfect if you didn’t have some drawbacks. I’d still call you a ten out of ten.”

  “Hey! I thought Suicide Squad was a great movie.”

  “Nine out of ten. Next you’ll be saying Batman vs. Superman wasn’t a waste of screen time.”

  “It wasn’t! Maybe the plot was a little…unusual, but it was worth it to watch Gal Gadot on screen.”

  “I’ll agree with that.” Dean’s smile crinkled his brown eyes. They were familiar eyes, eyes she’d seen somewhere else, and it plucked at the edges of her memory. With alcohol coursing through her system and the company of a good man, she felt lighter.

  “Can I walk you home?”

  “I dunno,” she quipped. “Can you walk, lightweight?”

  “I’m not remotely drunk.”

  He held her during the credits. And then the events after that didn’t matter much at all. At one point, she was walking to the door, and he was muttering something about the chirping crickets; and in the next, he was nudging her up against the wall.

  Dean’s mouth slanted over her lips, his tongue seeking and gliding, finding hers and stroking expertly. She could have kissed him for hours. It was the kind of kiss she never wanted to end, coiling warmth and heat in the pit of her stomach and making her squirm in anticipation. Her nipples tightened beneath the thin maxi dress, pebbling harder than glass.

  “You aren’t wearing panties.”

  “You could tell?” Her pulse picked up speed, like a bass cry of finally, finally, finally pounding over and over again in her chest.

  “You know what I am, don’t you?” His voice caressed her senses as his lips slipped down to her collarbone. Then he breathed her in and his nose skimmed her throat in the bestial way she associated with shapeshifters of the furred variety.

  Werewolf, she thought. No. Not a wolf.

  Something else. Something leaner, but just as gorgeous and cunning.

  Then she thought of those coppery, golden glints in his hair, threatening to emerge if he didn’t dye it again soon. “You’re the fox I met in the yard.”

  He chuckled, breath warm against her throat. He nipped her playfully, sucking her skin, and her pussy clenched with need. “How’d you guess?”

  “I haven’t seen him again and…you’re a natural redhead, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe.”

  Only one way to find out.

  Feeling increasingly bold, Maddie ran her fingers along his belt until she reached the buckle. He didn’t stop her when she unfastened it. His cock sprang from the opening of his briefs, the hard and sinewy length silken beneath her fingertips. She caressed him from root to tip and delighted in the feral growl that rumbled in his throat.

  “Fuck yes, baby. Just like that,” he mumbled against her mouth. He nipped her lower lip, then thrust in her hand. “Don’t stop.”

  Kisses that began at her lips traveled to her jaw. Dean nibbled her ear playfully, and then he was kissing across her shoulders and making his way down her chest. Only thin cotton separated him from her breasts.

  One dress was all that stood between her naked body and his hands. He stroked her over it, squeezing her breasts and thumbing over her tight nipples until she squirmed.

  “That okay?” he asked, cupping her through the dress, stroking over her pussy.

  It was better than okay. So much better that she hiked the dress up with one hand and guided his hand between her thighs with the other. His bare skin touched her, traced her slick crease and teased before two fingers entered to the second knuckle, his thumb brushing against her clit. She almost came from the contact, so sensitive and needy for anything—anything—more than a battery-operated boyfriend in her nightstand drawer. His lazy strokes kept her on the edge.

  Maddie squirmed, riding his fingers. “You made a promise to me, you know.”

  “Mm. I did?”

  “Uh huh. With your mouth in Glazed and Confused. Or did your tongue write a check your mouth can’t cash?”

  He chuckled, laughter tickling her throat. Then she had nothing at all to laugh about as he began kissing his way down her body, a sexy descent that made her core practically pulse with need.

  “I guess I can give you a little sample.”

  He slipped one of her legs over his shoulder, tilted his face up, and kissed her slit, a hot open-mouthed kiss that ended with his tongue gliding between her folds. In and out he stroked, taking his sweet time, neglecting her aching clit until she grasped handfuls of his hair.

  “I’m so close already.”

  “Mm. Are you? Why should I finish?”

  “Because I want it.”

  To her lust-drunk mind, that sounded as good a reason as any.

  It must have made sense to Dean, too, because his lips closed around her clit. Breath hitching, she shuddered against the wall. So close, so close she could feel the tingling, her core tightening as the tension—

  Dean turned his head away and kissed the inside of her thigh, leaving her panting and close to squealing in dismay. Impatient, she tugged his hair, equally desperate to have his mouth again.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Trust me.”

  By the time he returned his mouth, she was starting to come down again from it, but he ramped her excitement right back up, only to halt again just as she was on the brink.

  Moaning in frustration, she slapped one hand against the wall. “Stop teasing me and fuck me alre—”

  He did. Fucking her with his fingers then sucking her clit, he didn’t just nudge her over the edge, he sent her careening wildly out of control, climaxing with a startled cry that made her thighs tremble. She tugged on his hair and rolled her hips as he worked her over with attention to detail that made her toes curl.

  The only thing holding her upright was his body, and she was still clenching when he lowered her leg to the floor and rose between her thighs.

  A condom wrapper tore. Through eyes half-slit with pleasure, she watched him roll the latex down over his length. In the next move, he was inside her, buried deep. Her ass slapped against the trailer door, long legs framing his hips. He thrust again, and she saw stars.

  * * *

  Platinum blonde hair tickled Dean’s cheek as a beam of morning light slanted across his face. Waking up had never felt as good as it did
when he opened his eyes to the sight of Madeleine sprawled on her stomach, her sleeping face peacefully resting on his chest.

  He stroked a wisp of hair from her cheek then glanced at the time. At a quarter after nine in the morning, he had nowhere in the world to be.

  This must have been what heaven felt like.

  With skill rivaling a ninja, Dean slid out from beneath her and hit the restroom for a brisk shower and all other morning matters, even pausing by the bathroom sink to set out an extra toothbrush for Maddie.

  The whole time, his girl lay dead to the world. He left her the fuck alone. Being raised by a single mother and growing up with two younger sisters, he’d learned the hard way never to wake a woman in the morning without a plate of pancakes and bacon in his hand.

  So, he crept from the bedroom and into the kitchen to put together a breakfast feast fit for a swan queen. He had buttermilk for pancakes, fresh butter from the farmer’s market, thick bacon from the butcher in town, and smoked salmon, just in case she preferred a classier breakfast.

  He hadn’t anticipated getting her into bed, but the Boy Scouts taught him to always be prepared.

  Thankfully, waking her proved unnecessary. The shower roared noisily from the adjacent room while he cracked eggs, and his swan stumbled out just as he was plating scrambled eggs. She wore one of his shirts, and on a smaller woman, it would have reached midthigh. On his Amazon, it barely touched the bottom of her bare ass.

  The sight of her in it wrecked his good intentions to be a good, non-lecherous morning host. His cock tented up in a prompt salute.

  Her gaze darted down to his crotch, and she beamed. “Good morning to you, too!”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Can you blame me when I have this view?”

  Her smile widened. “Who said I blame you at all? That smells amazing by the way. I can’t believe you make breakfast and dinner.”

  “Hang around long enough and you’ll see I make a mean lunch, too,” he teased.

  “Maybe I’ll hold you to that.”

  This girl? His. He hadn’t come to Crisis to find a woman, but he knew without a doubt that he finally had what he wanted.