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Blackstone Ranger Guardian: Blackstone Rangers Book 5 Page 12


  The answer, of course, was there, but she couldn’t verbalize it. Couldn’t even think of it.

  Straightening his shoulders, he finished the last of his beer. “Just stopped by to see you were okay. I should go—”

  “No!” That came out more forceful that she meant it to. “I mean … you don’t have to.”

  His gaze slowly dropped to her hand. She did a double take, as she didn’t even realize her arm had shot out and grabbed his forearm. Quickly, she withdrew it. “Will you stay?” Hesitation was evident on his face. “Please?”

  “If you want me to.”

  “I want you to.” She couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth from quirking up. “You should at least enjoy the food and drinks. Have you had a chance to meet some of my friends?”

  He shook his head. “J.D. and Anna Victoria did most of the work calling them up.”

  “Then you should come and meet them,” she said. “C’mon.”

  They made the rounds of guests with Dutchy introducing him to everyone he didn’t know. He was polite, though he only said one or two words at the most.

  Kate and Amelia, of course, looked about ready to burst the entire time, but didn’t say anything while Krieger was around. As soon as he excused himself to get her a drink, they practically cornered her.

  Kate grabbed her by her good arm. “Is he—”

  “Yes,” she blurted out. “But you guys already knew that,” she added wryly.

  “Duh.” The she-wolf rolled her eyes.

  “I’m so happy for you,” Amelia said. “I mean, I don’t know the guy, and he looks a little scary, but if he’s your mate, then I know he’ll treat you right.”

  “He’s hot too,” Kate added in a low voice. “Sorry, you know my mate.” She smiled and waved at Petros, who was carrying their daughter Sophia as he was chatting with Jason Lennox and Amelia’s mate, Mason. “I swear, when I mention any guy is attractive, it’s like a dog whistle only he can hear.”

  “Krieger is hot, though,” Amelia added with a grin. “But not the type I thought you’d end up with.”

  “Who did you think she’d end up with? A certain silver dragon?” Kate waggled her eyebrows.

  “Oh brother.” Dutchy slapped herself on the forehead. “That again? The thing with Ian is ancient history. It’s not like we’re even friends now or anything.”

  “And nothing happened during the wedding reception at the palace?” Kate teased.

  “Nothing.” Her lips twisted. “Not that he didn’t try.”

  Kate and Amelia cackled, and Dutchy found herself laughing with them. “Stop! I swear, you have one coffee date with a dragon and everyone thinks—oh, he’s coming back.” She cleared her throat. “Don’t mention Ian, please? Or kilts.”

  “Kilts?” Kate asked. “What’s wrong with kilts?”

  “Hey, Krieger,” Amelia greeted.

  “Ladies,” he grunted as he handed Dutchy a glass of white wine.

  “Thanks, John,” she said gratefully as she accepted the glass. “Oh! Luke and Georgina just arrived. I didn’t realize you’d invited them too. Let’s go say hello.”

  “We’ll see you around,” Kate said.

  “Yes. More often now, I hope?” Amelia glanced meaningfully at Krieger.

  Despite her initial hesitation, Dutchy enjoyed herself. She’d missed times like this—just hanging out with good friends, chatting and catching up. It was like things were normal again. Like she hadn’t spent the last months pushing her friends and family away. No one seemed to hold a grudge against her, nor did they bring up anything about missed dinners, parties, or ignored calls and messages.

  It was … nice. And for once, that heaviness, that cloud that seemed to follow her around just disappeared.

  As she mingled and caught up with her friends, she didn’t notice that Krieger wasn’t at her side. Not until Anna Victoria came up to her.

  “This was a really great party,” Anna Victoria said. “But Damon and I have to get going.”

  “So soon?” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve only been here two hours. Is it the baby? Are you tired?”

  “Yes, and well, you know Damon,” she said. “I’m surprised Krieger made it this long too.”

  “E-excuse me?”

  Anna Victoria’s brows furrowed. “You know. About …” She nodded toward the exit, where Damon stood. The chief looked normal, but upon closer scrutiny, Dutchy did notice a few things. His rigid shoulders. The way he clenched and unclenched his jaw. The slight jitter of his right leg. And the thousand-yard stare that left his eyes vacant.

  “You don’t know,” Anna Victoria concluded. “About them. The Special Forces. And Kargan.”

  “Kargan? What’s a Kargan?”

  Anna Victoria glanced around. “I’m sorry. It’s not my place to tell you. And I don’t know the details.”

  “Tell me what? Please,” she implored. “I need to understand.”

  Anna Victoria paused, her eyes darting around. “Krieger and Damon were in the Special Forces together. Damon was his commander.” She let out a breath. “There was an incident with an explosion in Kargan … and then … it’s crowds for Damon, mostly. He doesn’t like them because he was nearly trampled to death. Krieger, too, to some extent. He doesn’t like being around others. Actually, I think this is the biggest crowd I’ve ever seen him in, except for the anniversary ball, and even then, he had to leave after thirty minutes when people started arriving.”

  What the heck was Anna Victoria saying? And why hadn’t Krieger told her any of this?

  “That’s why he has to live all the way up there by Contessa Peak.”

  As if she wasn’t reeling enough from processing this brand new information, the world halted under her feet at that last revelation. “Krieger … lives there? In that cabin?”

  “Yes. Damon visits him regularly. It’s only recently he’s been leaving on his own.” Anna Victoria frowned. “Are you all right, Dutchy?”

  She swallowed, trying to moisten her dry throat. All this time, she thought that cabin was just a temporary shelter. It had been his home. He had to live away from others. I’ve been so blind. So blind and focused on herself, she didn’t see that Krieger had PTSD.

  I’ve been working on it. Trying … trying to be better. For you.

  The realization crashed over her like a wave.

  He lived alone, on top of a mountain because of some trauma that made it hard for him to be around others. He said he needed to stay up there. That’s where he belonged.

  But somehow, he was here. He made his way down from the mountain, fought with his demons and won.

  Well, kinda.

  Looking back on tonight, she realized how he got tenser with each interaction, his jaw hardening as the room filled up with more people, his stare becoming more vacant as the minutes ticked by. But he didn’t say anything to her nor give any indication he wasn’t having a good time. Hell, he even arranged this whole thing. He was probably going crazy now with all these people here.

  “I need to go find him.” Panic surged in her when a cursory glance around the room told her he wasn’t there. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know,” Anna Victoria said. “Maybe he went to get some fresh air. That usually works with Damon.”

  “I’ll try that. Thanks!” She made a mad dash for the exit, but didn’t quite make it out as she bumped into someone also heading out.

  “Dutchy!” Angela exclaimed as she grabbed her shoulders to stop them from falling over. “Dutchy, where are you going in such a rush?”

  “I—sorry, Aunt Angela,” she said apologetically. “I need to check on … something outside. Are you all right?”

  “Yes, darling, I’m fine,” Angela assured her. “We’re out of drinks, I’m afraid. I was wondering if Krieger knows where to get more? Should I talk to the bartender or manager?”

  “Uh, ask for Tim at the bar, he should know.” She gently pried Angela’s fingers from her arms. “Sorry, but I really need to go n
ow.”

  Crossing the crowded room, she made her way out the door. Please be here, she said to herself. Please let me not be too late.

  The rush of air cooled her rapidly-heating cheeks. The lot was packed with cars, but devoid of any people. Oh no. Had the bar been too much for him? Was he gone? Did he have an episode?

  “Dutchy? What are you doin’ out here?”

  Her skin prickled at the sound of the rough, low voice. Turning on her heel, she found Krieger leaning against the wall. His shoulders were hunched over, hands shoved into his pockets, moonlight illuminating his handsome face. However, looking past what was on the surface, she looked at him—really looked at him. The deep rise and fall of his chest as he struggled to breathe. The veins popping on his neck as he clenched his jaw. The racing of his heart that her shifter senses could pick up. It had cost him a lot to come here. But he did it anyway.

  She took a step toward him. And another. Her fox hissed, as if to say, don’t you dare!

  Oh, shut up!

  And she pushed it way down deep. Stay there.

  “Dutch—” He flinched when her hands landed on his wrists. “Dutchy—your fox, it—”

  “Doesn’t matter.” She searched his eyes. There was no spark now, and they remained a dull gray, but she still wanted answers. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you what?”

  “That … that place. The cabin. It was your home. You live up there, away from everyone. Why?”

  A myriad of emotions passed across his face until it settled into a hard mask. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “What happened, John?” Her hands slid up his arms and he flinched again. “Please. Tell me. What happened in the army?”

  His jaw set. “I told you, it doesn’t matter.”

  Freezing, she squeezed his bicep. “It’s all right,” she soothed. “You’re not ready.” Not now, anyway. He needed time to tell her.

  Relaxing visibly, he said, “This isn’t about me.”

  Everything I’ve done … the last couple of months … they’ve been for you.

  These changes he’d been making … coming down here. For her. To be with her.

  “Dutchy? Are you—”

  Something inside her propelled her forward, and she reached up to touch the sides of his face to pull him down and she pressed her mouth to his. He tensed, but only for a moment, then began to respond. His strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her up off the ground.

  Oh. Her blood sang in her veins. His warm, firm lips caressed hers tentatively at first, but when she opened her mouth to urge him to deepen the kiss, he didn’t need any more encouragement.

  Suddenly, she found herself flipped around and pressed up against the wall, her knees lifted so she could wrap her legs around his waist. As his mouth descended down onto hers again, she melted against him, relishing the feeling of the muscles of his hard chest and being surrounded by his warmth and scent. He tasted like sunshine and earth and musk and everything she never knew she wanted until this moment. That’s why she whimpered when he abruptly stopped.

  “Are you hurt? Fuck, I wasn’t thinking.” He gently set her on her feet, then lifted her left hand up. “Your arm—”

  “It’s fine,” she said. “I swear.” Damn cast! Still, it was sweet that he thought of her comfort. “I’m fine.”

  He sighed with relief, then backed her up against the wall—carefully, this time—and cupped her jaw as he bent down to kiss her again.

  She sighed at the soft exploration of his mouth. It was nice, but he seemed determined to handle her like some glass object. “Can I ask you for something,” she said as she pulled away.

  He leaned his forehead against hers. “Anything.”

  “Take me back.”

  His eyes flew open. “Back?”

  “Up there. To the—your cabin.”

  “It’s far,” he said. “Nearly two hours to drive up.”

  “I don’t care.” She slipped her hands under his leather jacket, over his rock-hard abs and circled around his waist. Laying her head on his chest, she sighed. “Please.”

  The pleased rumble made her shiver. “All right.” He pressed her tight against him, then kissed her forehead. “Truck’s this way.”

  Krieger hadn’t been kidding. It was a long drive up, which made her wonder to herself, how did my fox make it all the way here? She must have been really distracted to let her animal wander this far.

  The vixen yapped at her, even as it was seemingly backed into a corner, ears flattened.

  I said, shut it!

  It whined and lowered its head.

  Good. Her vixen was going to have to deal with being around Krieger, because this was happening.

  Oh God, this was happening.

  But then again, this was inevitable, wasn’t it?

  The truck slowed down as it rounded a corner, then drove off the path. They rumbled along, making several turns along the dirt road until a light appeared in the distance. As they got nearer, she recognized the cabin—his cabin, she corrected. Wiping the sweat from her palms on her jeans, she cleared her throat. “We’re here.”

  He pulled up to the front of the cabin and cut the engine. “Yeah. Wait,” he said when she reached for door handle. “The outside’s slippery and not paved. Let me help you.” He slipped out and rounded to her side, then opened the door. “Careful.”

  She smiled at him as he took her hand, then yelped in surprise as his other arm slipped around her waist to hoist her to his chest. “John, I can walk,” she said with a half-protest, half-giggle.

  “I know.” He walked them over to the porch and set her down. “I just wanted to do it.”

  Heat spread up from her core at how their bodies touched. “Can we go inside now?”

  Without delay, he opened the cabin then motioned for her to go in. “After you.”

  As she stepped inside, she took a deep breath. It smelled exactly as it did from her memories. Pine needles. Smoky wood. And Krieger. However, she did notice a few subtle changes. The dining table had two chairs now. There was also a well-worn leather chair in the corner next to a well-stocked bookshelf. She smiled to herself, wondering what kind of books he’d been reading.

  “I—” Air rushed out of her lungs as he swooped her up and then deposited her on the bed in one motion. Ah, there was another change she noticed. “New mattress?” She bounced up and down to test it.

  “Yeah,” he said. “You said the old one was lumpy.”

  Had she? She didn’t quite remember vocalizing it.

  He slipped off his leather jacket and place it over the headboard. When he reached for the bottom of his shirt, he stopped. “Are you … is this …”

  “Yes.” She reached for the hem and inched it up, revealing his rock-hard abs and the mat of dark hair trailing down tantalizingly. His skin was hot where she touched him, her fingers moving up as she lifted the shirt higher. His pecs jumped when she pressed down on them, and the thumping of his heart against her palms brought a shiver of anticipation up her spine.

  He yanked his shirt completely off and tossed it aside, then knelt on the bed next to her and fused their mouths together. Their lips barely left each other, not even when he slipped his shoes and socks off and pushed her to the center of the bed.

  “Krieger …” God, why was she nervous? It wasn’t their first time. She knew his body well, and he knew hers. Yet, there was fluttering in her stomach she couldn’t explain.

  But there was no more time to be anxious as he grabbed the bottom of her sweater and pulled it off her, careful as he eased her left arm from the sleeve.

  Oh, if only she knew how she would end up tonight, she would have dressed in something sexier than her white cotton bra and panties. However, from the desire etched on his face, it was obvious he didn’t mind at all. He lowered his head, brushed her hair aside, and nuzzled at her neck.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured, licking and sucking at her skin. A sizzle of desire went straight to her clit, makin
g it throb as her arousal intensified. His nostrils flared as he probably scented her wetness, and it only seemed to fuel his desire.

  His hands were suddenly everywhere—cupping her breasts, unbuttoning her jeans and shucking them off, caressing her hip, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her buttocks. Soon, she found herself on her back, knees spread.

  “John!” She dug her fingers into his thick hair, pulling the scalp as his mouth devoured her through her cotton panties. Oh God … it had been too long, yet she could never forget this. His lips and masterful tongue lapping, sucking at her with such enthusiasm that it should have been scandalous. He had pushed the fabric aside so he could lave her naked lips. It didn’t take long before her hips were lifting off the mattress, and she came with the force of a gale wind.

  “Dutchy,” he growled low as he pulled her panties off. “I wanna be inside you so bad … but I …” A glance at her arm told her what he was worried about.

  “Don’t be worried,” she cooed. Slowly, she sat up, then pushed him back down on the mattress. “Let’s do it this way … and we can take it from there.”

  His eyes devoured her, even as she could see the struggle in his expression. “You’ll tell me … if I’m hurting you.”

  “Of course,” she assured him. Her fingers trembled when she reached for the fly of his jeans, but with minimal help from him, she managed to open them, exposing the dark furring of hair at his pubic mound. He lifted his hips to help her take off his jeans, and she couldn’t take her eyes off the substantial tent of his briefs. Reaching inside, she took him out, gasping at the warmth and strength of his cock.

  “Dutch—” He groaned and rolled his eyes back as she stroked him. He was like velvet and steel, and she reveled in the power she had over him, seeing how it drove him mad when she touched his cock. Leaning down, she pressed her mouth to the tip, and his hips rocketed off the mattress.

  “Mmmm …” She pushed his hips down, then enveloped the head of his cock with her mouth.

  “Dutchy,” he groaned as she took him in deeper, tongue licking and tasting him. The scent of him was overpowering, fueling her own arousal. She teased and sucked at him, letting him squirm and push his fingers through her hair to subtly direct her strokes. “God—Can’t—”