Garnet (Gems of Wolfe Island) - Page 55

Lucifer Ashton alias Luke Johnson. He’ll know what to do.

As much as I hate it, I punch in his number.

“Yeah?” he says into the phone.

“It’s Buck. Buck Moreno.”

“Yeah, I know who it is.”

“You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?”

“I have no desire to make anything hard on you, Buck. What can I do for you?”

“Remember how you said you’d help me if I ever needed it?”

“I do.”

“I need it. I need you to help me find Aspen.”

“Talk. What the hell happened?”

“She’s gone. Disappeared from the damned hotel room. Her purse and phone are here, and I know she wouldn’t have gone anywhere without them.”

“Where were you?”

“Asleep. In… In the adjoining room.”

God, I can’t tell him that she was taken right under my nose.

“Did you get in touch with the Wolfe family?”

“I’m hoping I won’t have to. If you help me.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Thank you,” I say begrudgingly. “And Raven?”

“Luke. I’m Luke now. I won’t answer to Raven.”

“Right. Luke. Please don’t tell Katelyn. I don’t want to worry her.”

No response.

“Luke?”

“I don’t keep anything from Katelyn. I’m sorry.”

Fuck. “Fine. Whatever. I—”

I drop the phone as Aspen walks in.

I grip her, pull her to me, and crush my mouth to hers.

42

ASPEN

It’s an angry kiss—full of rage and fire.

And I love it.

But…why?

I pull away, my lips stinging.

“Where the fuck were you?” Buck growls.

“I couldn’t sleep. I went on a run.”

“This early in the fucking morning? Without your phone? This is LA! What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I’m a prize athlete and can take care of myself.”

“Damn it all to hell, Aspen. If something ever happened to you—” He rakes his fingers through his bed head.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me, Buck. I’m pre-disastered at this point.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“All the shit that’s gone on in my life? All the shit that’s like a one in a million chance? No way does lightning strikes twice in the same spot.”

“That’s crap. I’ve seen lightning strike twice in the same spot more than I care to say. More than I care to remember.”

“You mean during your tours?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through. But we’re not in Afghanistan. We’re not in Iraq.”

“There’s plenty of fucking crime in LA, Aspen.”

“Yes, I realize that. But I can take care of myself. I’m bigger than most men.”

“I don’t give a shit how fucking strong you are. You can’t fight a loaded gun.”

He’s right, of course. I shouldn’t have gone out alone, and I shouldn’t have gone without my phone.

It’s just that—

“I had a nightmare. I couldn’t sleep. I tried snuggling up to you. I tried everything.”

“Except waking me up.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you. This has all been hard on you.”

“Not as hard as it’s been on you, baby. You wake me up at any time for any reason. You got that?” He pulls me to him once more, smashes his mouth to mine.

I open instantly for a primal kiss. He’s naked except for his boxer briefs.

He’s right. I shouldn’t have gone out alone.

But God, I need my life back. I refuse to go around being scared.

I lean into his kiss, grab one of his hands, and shove it under the waistband of my joggers.

He slides his finger inside me.

He breaks away. “Damn, baby. How can you be so wet already?”

I have no response for him. It’s amazing that I can get wet at all after what I’ve been through, but even before, I was never this turned on by anyone. Not Brandon or anyone else.

He drags me toward the bed, throws me down face first. Yanks my joggers over my hips, and then he’s inside me.

Fucking me hard and fast.

I don’t care about an orgasm. I don’t care about anything in this world right now except for his cock inside me.

He grunts, slapping against me, groaning and growling. “Never again, baby. You never fucking leave me again.”

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

Then a low groan as he releases, and so in tune am I with him that I feel each contraction of his cock as he empties himself inside me.

I close my eyes, slide into the comfort of rumpled bed linens.

He stays on top of me for a while, and I relish the weight of him, his protection, his warmth.

We stay there for a few moments. He keeps me from moving, but I don’t feel violated. I don’t feel frightened. I feel…enveloped in warmth and soul-nourishing comfort.

His hot breath against my neck… His vibrating groans in my ear…

It’s all so comforting, all so—

Bam!

Someone pounds at the door.

Buck jerks off me, pulls up his boxer briefs. “What the fuck?” He races to the door. “Who the hell is out there?”

“Buck? It’s me. Luke.”

“Oh, fuck. Hold on.”

Buck stumbles into his jeans as I secure my joggers around my waist. He opens the door.

Tags: Helen Hardt Paranormal
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