Page 20 of Bad Rio

When the door slammed, leaving a gust of frigid air to swirl into the cabin, Becca felt alone. Her body wished she’d had a bout of good, clean, mindless sex.

And her vulva still throbbed.

Chapter Eight

On the long trek upwardto a lookout where he could see for miles around, Rio dug his boots into the mountainside. Carefully he kept tight to the tree line, out of sight of anyone possibly watching. His binoculars swung on his neck and the cold tried to creep through his clothing.

He was glad of the low temperature because it helped douse the raging desire he’d felt for Becca. Getting cooped up for two days in that shack with the young, sexy spitfire had tested his restraint. This morning, when she’d shimmied her ass against his dick and began to slide her fingers down her pants to pleasure herself, he’d nearly lost it.

He didn’t think he’d ever been as hard as he’d been at that moment. All he could think about was plunging deep inside her, bringing her to the orgasm of her life, and then doing it again. And again. He wanted to suck on those luscious breasts, lick his way down her neck, her belly, to her sweet nether regions. He’d make her come like a landslide crashing down the mountain.

But she’d said no.

At last he reached the stand of concealing boulders and crept through them to lie on his stomach. He lifted the field glasses. From his perch on high, he was careful not to silhouette himself against the sky. Miles to the south, he saw only the normal vistas of hillsides and small ranchitas. Plumes of smoke rose from several chimneys, warming the small and modest homes.

To the east he saw no unusual activity. The roads were quiet and not well traveled. To the west were only more mountains. The cartel had moved on.

For a moment Rio considered not telling Becca. He felt certain that if they stayed one more night, he could work his wiles and convince her that sex with him would be wonderful. He’d never had any trouble bedding women. The two of them could enjoy a long day and night of lovemaking under the quilts. He couldn’t imagine a more exhilarating interlude. Those hours would be plenty of time to slake his thirst for her and then deliver her to Harrison’s men. After that, he could be on his way.

She wouldn’t go unrewarded. He’d give her all the orgasms she wanted and more. For several moments he allowed the notion of giving her those memories to hover pleasantly in his thoughts.

Rio rubbed his neck and came back to reality. The men hunting her were no longer in the area and that meant it was time to leave. He disliked making the decision, but he was paid to do a job.

He’d do it.

Taking out his cell phone, high on the mountainside, he was able to get one bar of connectivity and called Harrison. Quickly he made arrangements to rendezvous with a Black Eagle team Harrison would send some forty miles to the north. He and Becca would leave at nightfall, quit the area under the cover of darkness.

Halfway down the mountain, Rio stopped beside a stand of trees, opened his pants and took himself in hand. Thinking of Becca’s rounded ass rubbing against him, he jerked off into the snow. If he was going to survive more hours with her in that cabin, it was necessary. He’d told her he didn’t force women, and he didn’t. However, a man had his limits. Jerking off was the only way to get through spending more time alone with the alluring Rebecca De Monte.

Returning to the shack, he yanked open the door and stepped inside. Before he could slam the door, his breath strangled in his throat.

She was nude from the waist up.

Becca sat on the bed washing her face and arms with a piece of towel dampened from a water bottle. Her back was to him, but startled by his entry, she turned and gasped. Her breasts bounced.

“I thought you’d be gone longer,” she said, breathless.

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