Chapter 2
two
. . .
Gray
The first time I saw Beck Monroe's picture, it was like taking a bullet to the chest. The bounty file slid across my desk—standard job, decent payout—but the photo stopped my breath.
Those wide hazel eyes. That soft mouth. The way she looked straight at the camera like she was seeing into me.
Sixteen years hunting the worst scum across state lines, and suddenly I didn't give a shit about the money.
I had to find her first—not to cash in, but to claim.
I glance at her now, curled into herself in my passenger seat, still trembling.
Rain hammers the roof of my truck as we climb higher into the mountains.
She hasn't spoken since I put her there, just keeps her eyes fixed on the dark road ahead, occasionally darting glances my way like a cornered animal.
Good. Let her be afraid. Fear keeps her close. Fear keeps her alive.
"Where are you taking me?" Her voice is small but steady.
"Somewhere safe." My knuckles are still bloody from the prick who tried to cuff her. Should've broken more than his nose. "My cabin. No one knows about it."
No one but me and the deer that sometimes wander through the clearing. It's been my sanctuary for years. Now it'll be her prison. For her own good.
"Are you..." She swallows hard. "Are you a bounty hunter too?"
I laugh, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "Yeah, baby girl. I am."
Her soft gasp at the pet name goes straight to my cock.
Christ, she's so fucking innocent. Been watching her for weeks now—the way she jumps at loud noises in the diner, the way she double-checks locks, the way she walks with her keys between her fingers.
Prey behavior. She has no idea what a real predator looks like.
She's looking at one now.
The truck's headlights cut through the pounding rain as we turn onto the unmarked dirt road that leads to my place. Trees close in on both sides, branches scraping the roof. Her breathing quickens.
"I'm not who they think I am," she whispers. "There's been a mistake."
"I know." I reach across the center console and wrap my hand around her thigh. She stiffens but doesn't pull away. My fingers nearly circle her entire leg. "Beck Marie Monroe robbed three banks in Tennessee. You're Beck Maria Monroe, who's never even had a speeding ticket."
Her head snaps toward me, eyes wide. "You know? Then why—"
"Because others don't." I squeeze her thigh once before releasing it to shift gears. "And they won't stop coming."
The cabin appears through the trees, dark wood and stone against the night sky. Nothing fancy—two bedrooms, one bath, open kitchen and living space. Defensible. Remote. Mine. And now hers, whether she wants it or not.
I kill the engine and turn to look at her properly. Rain has plastered her chestnut hair to her cheeks. Her cardigan clings to curves that have been haunting my dreams for weeks. She's shivering, but not just from cold.
"Inside." Not a request.
She doesn't move. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because you're mine." The words come out before I can stop them, raw truth that should scare her away. Instead, her pupils dilate, her lips parting on a silent exhale.
Interesting.
I climb out, circle to her door, and yank it open. When she still doesn't move, I reach in and lift her out, setting her feet on the muddy ground. She stumbles against me, her soft curves pressing against my chest for one glorious second before she catches herself.
My hand on the small of her back, I guide her up the porch steps and unlock the heavy wooden door. The moment we're inside, I throw the deadbolt, then another, then engage the security system. She watches my movements with wide eyes.
"You're locking me in."
"I'm locking others out." I shrug off my wet jacket and hang it on the hook. The cabin is dark except for the small light I leave on above the stove. "Take off that wet cardigan before you catch cold."
She doesn't move, defiance flashing in her eyes. "I need answers. Now."
I take a step toward her, and she takes one back. Another step, another retreat, until her back hits the wall. I cage her in with my arms, bringing my face close to hers. She smells like rain and diner grease and something sweet underneath that's all her.
"I've been watching you for weeks, baby girl," I growl, my voice dropping an octave.
My cock is rock hard just being this close to her, breathing her air.
"Knew you were mine the second I saw you.
That picture in the file? I burned it. Told everyone I was taking another job.
Then I found you, and I've been keeping you safe ever since. "
"That's—that's stalking," she whispers, but there's no real heat behind the accusation.
"That's protection." I bring one hand up to cup her face, my thumb tracing her lower lip. So fucking soft. "You've been running for months. Looking over your shoulder. Jumping at shadows. But you never saw me, did you? The shadow that was there to keep you safe."
Her breath hitches. "How do I know you're not lying? How do I know you won't turn me in tomorrow for the bounty?"
I press my forehead against hers, breathing her in. "Because I'm not built to share, little girl. And turning you in means giving you up. That's not happening."
Something changes in her eyes—fear giving way to a different kind of tension. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, inadvertently licking my thumb in the process. My control slips another notch.
"You've been so brave," I murmur, my hand sliding from her face to her throat, feeling her pulse race under my palm. "Moving from town to town. Keeping your head down. Such a good girl."
The praise affects her instantly—a flush spreading across her cheeks, her eyes growing hazy. My hand tightens slightly on her throat, and her lips part on a gasp.
"But you don't have to run anymore. You're mine now. I'll kill anyone who tries to take you."
And then I'm kissing her, claiming that soft mouth I've been dreaming about.
She makes a startled sound that melts into a whimper as I lick into her, tasting her, devouring her.
My hands find her waist, lifting her against the wall so our faces are level.
Her legs wrap around me instinctively, and I groan at the feel of her heat pressed against my cock, even through our wet clothes.
"Gray," she gasps when I finally let her breathe, my mouth moving to her neck. "This is crazy. We just met. You can't just—"
"Been watching you for weeks," I remind her, nipping at her earlobe.
"Know how you take your coffee. Know you read paperbacks on your breaks.
Know you sleep with the light on because you're afraid of the dark.
" I roll my hips against her, and her head falls back with a thud against the wall.
"Not strangers, baby girl. I know everything about you. "
"That's not better," she protests weakly, even as her hands fist in my shirt.
I carry her to the couch, lowering her onto the worn leather. She looks up at me, hair spread out like a dark halo, cheeks flushed, eyes uncertain but wanting. I strip off my shirt, watching her eyes widen at the sight of my scarred torso, the tattoos that map my violent history.
"Tell me to stop," I challenge her, knowing she won't. She can't. The chemistry between us is a live wire, has been since I first laid eyes on her photo.
Her hands twist in the fabric of her damp dress. "I should."
"But you won't." I kneel between her legs, pushing her dress up to expose pale thighs. My hands look massive against her skin, dark and rough with calluses. "Because you're tired of running. Tired of being afraid. And right now, you want me just as much as I want you."
A tear slips down her cheek, but she spreads her legs wider. Surrender.
I take my time undressing her, peeling away the wet clothes to reveal soft curves I've only glimpsed through windows and from a distance.
Her breasts fill my hands perfectly, nipples tightening under my rough palms. When I finally ease her panties down her legs, the scent of her arousal makes me growl.
"You never been touched here, baby girl?" I slide one finger through her folds, finding her slick and ready. She shakes her head, biting her lip. "Never had a cock inside this tight pussy?"
"N-no," she whispers, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment.
My control nearly shatters. A virgin. My virgin. "Look at me," I demand, and her eyes fly open. "Gonna take care of you. Gonna make it good."
I work her open slowly with my fingers, watching her face as she experiences these sensations for the first time.
Her little gasps and moans drive me wild, but I force myself to be patient.
When she's writhing on three of my thick fingers, I finally free my cock, guiding the swollen head to her entrance.
"Such a good little girl," I murmur as I begin to press inside, feeling her body resist the intrusion. "Taking Daddy's cock so deep."
Her eyes go wide at the name—Daddy—but the shock melts into something else as I push deeper. Pain, yes, but something darker and needier underneath.
"That's it," I praise as her body yields to mine, inch by agonizing inch. "Gonna fill this tight pussy until you're bred and swollen."
The words slip out, raw and filthy, and her inner walls clench around me in response. I freeze, buried to the hilt inside her, watching her process the dirty promise.
"Bred?" she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders.
I grind my hips against hers, too far gone to lie. "Gonna pump you full of my cum, baby girl. Make you round with my baby."
Instead of disgust, her pupils blow wide, her back arching. "Gray..."
"Daddy," I correct, beginning to thrust properly now. "Say it."
She resists for a moment, then surrenders. "Daddy," she whispers, the word breaking as I hit a spot deep inside her that makes her gasp. "Oh God, Daddy, please."
I lose my mind at the sound of that word on her lips. My hips snap forward, claiming her with brutal precision. She's so tight, so perfect around me. I've never felt anything like this—never wanted to possess someone so completely.
"Mine," I growl against her neck as I feel her start to shudder around me. "Say it, little girl. Tell me who you belong to."
"You," she cries out as her first orgasm hits her, her innocence making it intense and overwhelming. "I'm yours, Daddy, I'm yours!"
I follow her over the edge, emptying myself deep inside her with a roar, my come marking her as mine from the inside out. The first of many loads I'll pump into this sweet body.
As I catch my breath, still buried inside her, I brush damp hair from her flushed face. She looks dazed, transformed. I kiss her forehead, her nose, her lips.
"No more running," I tell her. "You're home now."