33. Vixen

THIRTY-THREE

Vixen

It was after ten that night when there was a knock on Rus’s door.

He checked the peephole, saw Lucinda with another knot in her hair, wearing something the color of porcelain, a camelhair coat over it, and he opened the door.

“Hey,” he greeted.

Then he was going backward while kissing her because she threw herself at him.

He heard the door snick shut as his thighs hit the arm of the couch, and she leaned all her weight into him.

He went down.

She came down on top of him.

He flipped their positions and lifted his head.

His voice was gruff when he noted, “That’s a lot to avoid telling me how you own a mountain. Understand, though, that is not me registering a complaint.”

She smiled slyly at him, and seeing it, he was done talking for a while.

He had her body under his. He had her smell. He had her mouth. And he had her hands all over him.

He managed to tug off her coat.

She managed to get her hand down his jeans at his ass.

He pulled her skirt up and went for hers, but she caught his hand and took it in a different direction.

He broke the kiss.

“Baby,” he murmured questioningly.

“Please, Rus.”

She needed it. He heard it, he saw it, and when she guided his hand into her panties at the front, his hard cock beaded, because he felt it.

It didn’t take long, he kissed her between watching her while touching her, listening to her excitement escalate, then with a soft rasp, her face flushed, her eyelids drifted closed, and she came for him.

Rus cupped her for a few moments before he slid his hand out and wrapped his arm around her. He shifted them so he had his back to the couch, her held close to his front, and what he expected would happen next…happened.

The orgasm knocked loose her hold on keeping it all together and being strong for everyone.

She shoved her face in his throat and started silently weeping.

He held her and stroked her and stayed silent, giving her the time she needed.

She didn’t need much.

He listened as she got it together but didn’t take her face out of his throat.

“Okay, I just used you and it wasn’t cool.”

“If I didn’t want a part in that, I would have let you know. So put it out of your mind.”

She pulled her face out of his skin and looked up at him, eyes still teary, a little smear of mascara, but otherwise her usual gorgeous.

“It’s been romantic. The tall, dark, handsome agent from the FBI rides into town in the pursuit of justice. He meets the local vixen with the heart of gold…that’s me.”

He smiled gently at her. “I followed that.”

Her return smile was much smaller than his.

“They connect,” she continued. “And their attraction grows during his dogged attempts to get his man. Along the way, he gives her daughter a strong man to lean on in a sad time, and her parents and brother peace of mind. I think when it happened, it was supposed to be rose petals and candlelight and soft touches and simultaneous orgasms. Not…that.”

“Alternative story,” he returned. “The FBI guys shows in pursuit of justice and meets the beautiful, interesting, classy businesswoman with a heart of gold. He still carries bruises from a long-term relationship that she helps him realize wasn’t healthy for much longer than he thought. She also helps him understand he’s carrying a weight of blame it wasn’t his to carry, and I can guarantee you, unloading that was a serious fucking relief. But this class-act woman was so together, she was giving him a complex. So, when she attacks him one night in his hotel room, he’s fucking thrilled he has something to offer. Even if it’s an orgasm and holding her while she lets go, it’s an honor he gladly accepts, because he figures she doesn’t do that very often.”

“I’m not sure your version will make it into a romance novel,” she critiqued.

“Don’t give a shit, since I’m living it, and damned if I’m not trying to find two motherfuckers who killed a sweet, loving woman, and still, I’m happier than I’ve been in maybe two decades.”

Her face scrunched like she was going to cry again, so she hid it back in his throat.

She got it together without crying that time, but said into his skin, “She’d come over just because. Because she loved Maddy, and she loved me. She’d grab my grocery list and take Madden to town. She’d get my dry cleaning. She’d bring me an Aromacobana in my office just because she swung by there on the way to work. She and Keyleigh would have Madden over for slumber parties, especially around the time Jaeger and I were ending things, and he was getting ready to move. Also, when Gram died. We were functional and we were loving, and we loved her, and she never had that, but it wasn’t the only reason she came around. It was because that was Brittanie. Madden was closer to her than me, but she was nearly a daily part of our lives, and I miss her.”

“I got that, baby,” he murmured, stroking her back.

“I worry sometimes I keep such a tight rein on everything because I have so much responsibility, I’m teaching Madden the wrong things. I don’t know, maybe it’s not good to control your emotions the way I do.”

“Sweetheart, you have no choice, life is going to kick you in the teeth. You’ll never see it coming. Jenn for some reason wants me to make Sabrina a little girl until…I don’t know when. But there’s danger out there in the dark. Men are going to break her heart. Bosses are gonna suck. I don’t want a daughter who’ll fall apart at a slight breeze when the hurricane gales are what’s coming next. She’s gonna be her, girlie and womanly and feminine and soft, all her life. That’s who she is. But I don’t want that softness to be weakness. I just want it to be soft.”

Again angling her head back to look at him, she waited.

He gave it to her.

“I think Jenn is weak. I think she expected the world to be as she wanted it, and when it wasn’t, and she couldn’t deal, that soft became hard.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

He shook his head and pulled them up to sitting. “Enough about me. I don’t own a mountain.”

She chuckled quietly.

“I’ll get you wine, you get comfortable,” he offered.

“Can I use your bathroom?”

He nodded.

She took off.

He rinsed her from his fingers in the sink at the bar and poured her wine.

When she returned, she had the knot out of her hair so it had tumbled down in waves around her face and shoulders, and the mascara smears were gone.

They met at the couch.

“It’s not that exciting,” she said to start.

“I don’t have a mountain named after my family. Let me be the judge of that.”

Her eyes glittered and she cozied into him in front of the fire, head on his shoulder, wineglass in hand.

“Well, you know my family has been here for a while. And many-greats Granny didn’t put up with a lot of shit.”

“Yes, I know that.”

“She was also a savvy businesswoman. As money came in, she decided to differentiate herself from the other saloons and whorehouses in town, built the Bonner bordello where the club is now. We’ve rebuilt it since, but back then, it was clean. You could get a delicious meal there. The beds were soft. The girls were dressed nice, and they were pretty.”

“Sounds familiar,” he quipped.

She gave him an elbow, took a sip of wine and went on.

“Because the bordello was there, and then the house was built there, it became known locally as Bonner Mountain.”

“That’s pretty cool.”

“It’s also why whoever takes over the club goes by the name of Bonner. That’s just a tradition, not an edict. Legally, I’m Lucinda Margaret Bonner Sexton. But I drop Sexton for pretty much everything but my taxes, bills and driver’s license.”

“And why Madden is Madden Emery Bonner Rhett.”

Her head moved on his shoulder with her nod. “Though I have a cousin. She’s younger than me. You may have met her. Esmae. She manages the downstairs club.”

“Yeah, I think I talked to her.”

“She’ll probably take over from me. As much as Madden wants to be something new every other week when she grows up, fashion designer and CEO are not where she lands for the most part. She’s good at languages, but she’s a STEM kid. She wants to go to a big geek camp next summer. I honestly think she’ll be a doctor, but she’s good at tech, so she could be an engineer.”

“Right. So…CEO?”

He asked because he was surprised at her title.

“Of Bonner Enterprises.”

“The club?”

She lifted her head, and when she caught his eyes, he saw she had a funny look on her face.

“No. My many-greats Granny was a savvy businessperson,” she repeated.

“Okay,” he said slowly to indicate he wasn’t getting it.

“Rus.” Her voice was quiet, cautious, maybe even unnerved. “My family’s company owns about a quarter of the buildings on main street. We rent them to the businesses who occupy them. We have a stake in a half a dozen other concerns as well. And I’m in the presidential suite not because I have a successful restaurant, bar and club, and I can afford it. I couldn’t if that was all the income we had. I’m here because Bonner Enterprises owns this hotel.”

“You’re shitting me,” he whispered.

“No. I thought someone told you.”

She seemed mildly tweaked.

But Rus couldn’t process that, because he was busy resting his head on the back of the couch and busting a gut laughing.

“No wonder you have such great fucking shoes,” he pushed out, still laughing.

She’d got up high on her knee in the couch, hand on his chest, and was looking down at him, lips quirking, when she remarked, “This doesn’t seem to turn you off.”

“Why would it turn me off? If we work, you might buy me a Jaguar for Christmas.”

That was when she started laughing.

“Though, I’m fonder of Porsches,” he was sure to add.

“Shut up,” she replied.

He lifted his head to kiss her and then, still amused, but being serious, “It doesn’t turn me off at all, baby.”

“Good.”

He kissed her again, then asked, “How long do I have you?”

“Hillary works from five to midnight, so awhile.” She tipped her head to the side and her eyes started heating. “I have a favor to return and the time to do it right.”

That was seriously tempting.

However.

“We’ll wait until tomorrow when we have all night,” he murmured. “Though, you might be wiped from driving to Seattle and back to get Madden to the airport.”

Her brows drew together, cleared, and she mumbled, “I should have been sharing more.”

“I should have asked more questions,” he corrected.

“Stalemate,” she blew it off, then informed him. “My father is a pilot. He flew for the Air Force. He then flew for Alaska Airlines for about ten years. He was sick of the commute runs to Seattle from Misted Pines, so he bought a couple of planes and opened a commuter airline outside MP and also does some wilderness drops. He has two pilots. Porter is one of them. Jaeger used to be one of them. Dad or Porter fly Madden to Jaeger every other weekend. Jaeger flies her back. That’s how I met Jaeger. When he started working for Dad.”

“Right, of course. I don’t know why that wasn’t the first thing to spring to mind,” he teased.

“I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

“Female wilderness mogul in tight skirts and high heels driving her personal golf cart from her exclusive club and burlesque show to her Victorian mansion built on a mountainside?” he asked. “No fucking way. You’re who Beth Dutton wishes she could be.”

Big score, because this time, it was Lucinda who burst out laughing.

Lamentably, his phone rang while she was doing it.

He looked at it, and he felt his heart kick up a gear when he saw it was Moran.

Her laughter died and he knew she saw it too.

“Gotta take this.”

“I know.”

He took it. “Hey, Harry.”

“Rus, remember that rental we checked out a few days ago?”

“Yes.”

“Could you make your way up there without someone leading?”

“No.”

“Right, go to the station. As soon as you can. I’ll have a deputy guide you up here.”

“What’s happening?”

Moran blew out a huge breath.

Then he said, “We have another body.”