Woman on the Run (new version) Read online

  “On the bed,” he whispered against her mouth.

  “Okay.” Her lips curved in a smile against his. She recognized that tone, he could tell. The one where he was inches from losing control.

  Cooper eased her down onto the bed with his free arm, then eased himself down next to her hip. His finger was still inside her, moving gently. He shifted his palm and she obediently opened her legs. She had lovely legs, long and sleek. His hand brushed the inside of her thighs and it felt like warm velvet.

  Cooper watched her for a moment. It was dark in her bedroom but her body glowed palely in the light of the streetlamp outside like a woman-shaped pearl. Though he was itching to be inside her, he took a moment to savor every detail of her. The delicate collarbones, the small, upright breasts with their pale pink nipples, the smooth soft belly, the soft thatch of fiery hair between her thighs. Everything about her was elegant and perfect.

  Her legs moved restlessly on the blanket while he let his finger imitate his cock. Only his cock had never been this gentle, he’d always pumped hard and fast in her. Maybe he always would. Maybe the only slow fucking she’d ever get from him would be from his hand.

  There was complete silence except for his breathing and the wet sounds as his finger moved in and out of her.

  He watched his hand moving between her legs. His finger was slick now with her juices. When his thumb caressed her clitoris again, her little cunt pulled at him. Her belly muscles rippled and her thighs trembled.

  “Do you like this?” he asked quietly, finally raising his eyes to her face. She’d been watching him watching her.

  Sally’s hand caressed his arm. “I like everything you do to me, Cooper,” she said simply.

  His eyes closed, as if in pain. Impossibly, his cock surged, lengthening and hardening even more, rapping against the stiff denim of his jeans as if against a door.

  He started unbuttoning his shirt, then stopped, astonished.

  His hand was trembling.

  His hand never trembled. He was an excellent shot and—as he’d told her—was even better with a knife. You don’t shoot true and hit your mark a hundred times out of a hundred with a knife if you were the kind of man whose hand shook under pressure.

  The only other time in his life in which his hand trembled had been the first time with her.

  He finished unbuttoning his shirt one-handedly. To take it all the way off, his right hand had to leave the warmth and softness of Sally’s body and for a moment, he was tempted to just leave his shirt on.

  But he loved the feel of her skin against his. When they made love, she rubbed herself against him like a little cat and he savored every inch of skin contact.

  Reluctantly, Cooper pulled his hand out of her to slip off his shirt and tee shirt. He unlaced his work boots, toed them off and took his socks off. All he had on was his jeans and briefs.

  He lay down next to her, running his hand down her torso. He leaned down and kissed her jawline, her neck, then nipped her earlobe. She shuddered and clung to him. “Missed you,” he growled in her ear.

  “Oh, Cooper, I missed you, too.” One hand ran through his hair and she turned her head to kiss his neck. “So much. You have no idea.”

  Fuck yes, he had an idea.

  “Thought about you every night.” He licked her neck and kissed his way down to her breast. His hand settled over her mound. She lifted a leg and curled it around his thigh, opening herself to him.

  “Aren’t you going to take those jeans off?”

  “Not just yet,” he growled. “The second I do, I’ll be in you.”

  He could feel her smile against his neck. “Sort of like a denim chastity belt, huh?”

  “Yeah.” Two fingers were fitting into her now. Good thing, because he was starting to lose control. He worked his fingers in and out of her, gradually spreading them, while he licked her nipples. Her fingernails were digging into his back and she was making those throaty little sounds he loved. The ones she made just before coming.

  He bit a nipple lightly while thrusting deeply and she stiffened, breath held. He shook as her cunt tightened around his fingers and she surged into climax.

  Nownownow!

  Cooper kissed her deeply, shaking as he unzipped his jeans and pushed them and his briefs down. He wanted complete freedom of movement, so he didn’t just pull them down his thighs enough to free himself. He wanted them all the way off. In a second, he was naked and rolling on top of her.

  Sally was still coming, panting lightly. He pulled her legs further apart and thrust inside, feeling the sharp little tugs as he entered her. It was mind-blowing. Sally came with her whole body. Arms and legs clutching him, hips grinding upwards to take as much of him as she could, mouth open against his. Every cell of her body welcomed him.

  His cock was super-sensitized, as if a layer of skin had been removed. He’d been in a state of arousal eight nights in a row and jerking off in his hotel room hadn’t helped at all. He was primed and when his cock parted those soft tissues tightly milking him, he lost it.

  Cooper groaned against her mouth, held her hips hard and pumped in short, hard strokes, moving upwards into her. He was beginning to know her so well. The fast upward strokes moved him against her clitoris and kept her climax going. He made a humming sound of contentment deep in his chest as he felt her move seamlessly into another climax, the pulses harder and stronger this time.

  The warm, hard contractions finished him off. He groaned and came in hot spurts of seed, shaking and sweating and pumping. His senses—usually so keen—disappeared, wiped out by the intensity of his climax. He didn’t hear the bed creaking, or Sally’s cries of pleasure, couldn’t see anything but the square inch of Sally’s skin right in front of his slitted eyes. Everything in him spiraled inward, ferociously concentrated on his cock bursting with joy inside her.

  With an enormous shudder, Cooper settled his full weight on Sally, face turned towards hers on the pillow, panting and trembling with aftershocks.

  He was still hard. He’d barely taken the roughest edge of desire off. As soon as he caught his breath, he’d start again and it would be even better. She’d be softer and wetter, now that they’d come. Some nights he came four or five times inside her and, towards the end, she was so slick with her juices and his, he moved inside her like a dream.

  But right now that orgasm had been more intense than usual. He had no desire to start up right away. They had all night. Right now all he wanted to do was savor the pulsing pleasure as sensation returned to his body. It had been so intense his head rang.

  As he slowly came back to himself, Cooper realized it wasn’t his head ringing, it was the phone.

  Fuck it. Whoever was calling could go take a flying jump.

  “Don’t answer that,” Cooper murmured. His nose was right up against the soft rose-scented skin under her ear. He kissed it.

  “Answer what?” Sally said dreamily.

  “The phone.”

  “Oh.” She sighed. “I thought it was my head ringing.”

  He smiled in the darkness and nuzzled the skin of her neck. The damned thing kept ringing, but Cooper tuned it out.

  Sally suddenly stiffened. “The phone. The phone. Oh, God, the phone.” Her voice was sharp now, as if she’d suddenly woken up. She pushed his shoulder. “I have to answer it.”

  Cooper lifted his head in surprise.

  “Please, Cooper, let me up. I really have to answer that.”

  Cooper frowned as he looked down at her. She was shaking. Her usually pale skin now looked bloodless.

  “Cooper, please.” She pushed at his shoulder again. He was about ninety or a hundred pounds heavier than her. No way could she get him off her if he didn’t want to. And he didn’t want to. He was fine right where he was, with his cock deeply buried inside her, her body under his, thighs hugging his hips. “Cooper, please. Please,” she whispered. The phone continued ringing.

  Her voice trembled.

  Scowling, Cooper pulled out of
her and rolled off. She scrambled out from under him, a pale shadow in the dark room as she hurried into the living room.

  Cooper was overheated and sweating from the lovemaking and climax, but he felt a deep chill run through his system as he thought about the expression on her face.

  It was one he’d seen all too many times on his men under fire.

  Fear.

  Something had frightened her, badly. Fuck this. Nothing and no one was going to frighten his woman. Grim-faced, Cooper got to his feet and followed her.

  Julia was shaking as she slid out from under Cooper. She checked her watch and winced. 10 p.m. It could only be one person.

  Herbert Davis. And if he was calling at this late hour, it wasn’t good news.

  She stood for just a second by the bed until she was certain her legs would hold. She’d just finished climaxing and her system was still in overdrive. When she stood, she could feel wetness trickling down her thighs. She dried herself with a quick swipe from the sheet and grabbed a dressing gown from the chair as she went into the living room, the cotton whipping through the air as she struggled into it while lunging for the phone.

  “Hello?” Her voice was still husky from sex and she cleared her throat. “Hello?”

  “Julia? Julia Devaux?” Julia’s heart gave a great thump as she heard her real name spoken for the first time in six weeks.

  “Mr. Davis,” she breathed. Clearly, the old rules were out. He was using her real name and he didn’t complain that she was using his. Something was very, very wrong.

  “Yeah, that’s right. Herbert Davis. Now, I want you to listen carefully, Julia. We think your identity has been compromised. We’re not absolutely certain, but we’re going to play it safe. From this moment on, I don’t want you to leave your house. I don’t want you to talk to anyone; I don’t want you to contact anyone. No one at all, do you understand me? You can’t trust anyone. You might be in danger and we’re coming to get you. Now this is what I want you to do—”

  The phone clattered heavily on the table, falling from Julia’s nerveless fingers. She could hear Herbert Davis’ voice squawking from the receiver, a tinny remote sound. “Julia? Julia! Answer me! What the hell is going on? Julia?”

  “Who was that?” a deep, raspy voice asked.

  Julia gasped and swiveled. Cooper stood in the doorway, one powerful arm braced against the frame. I don’t want you to talk to anyone. I don’t want you to trust anyone, Davis had said.

  Well, though Cooper didn’t talk much, having sex with him was probably included in Herbert Davis’ list of things not to do.

  “No one,” she said breathlessly. She reached down blindly and slammed the still-squawking phone back on the hook. It bounced and the receiver lay askew over the keys. “No one at all. It was…just a wrong number.” Her dressing gown was gaping open. It was crazy, she and Cooper had just made love, but she pulled the gown around her tightly. Cooper moved forward and Julia took an instinctive step backwards.

  “Sally?” Cooper frowned. “What’s wrong?” He walked toward her as she backed away, until she hit the wall. Julia clutched the wall at her back, as if it could protect her. As if anything could protect her against Cooper.

  He was so powerful it frightened her. She hadn’t often seen him naked in full light. He was fearsome. His shoulders and arms were heavily roped with muscle, massively powerful. It would be useless struggling against him if he chose to attack her. If he wanted to, Cooper could overpower her in one second, snap her neck the next and never break the rhythm of his breathing.

  Julia could remember reading somewhere that the soldiers of Sparta had fought naked, to terrify the enemy.

  Well, it worked. She was terrified.

  Cooper stopped in front of her, arms braced on either side of her head. She was trapped.

  She stared straight ahead at the black chest hairs, at the indentation where his pectorals met, then slowly brought her gaze up. His face was tight, expressionless. A stranger’s face. Her lover’s face.

  Trust no one.

  She brought a trembling hand to cup his cheek. She could feel his jaw muscles working under her fingers. He hadn’t shaved recently. His skin was warm, and his heavy beard rasped against her fingertips.

  Trust no one.

  “Cooper,” she whispered. A tear welled over and slipped down her face. She shook her head slowly, her eyes on his. “God help me, if I can’t trust you…I don’t want to live.”

  Cooper didn’t answer. He just opened his arms. Julia leaned forward and clung to him.

  After holding her for several long minutes, Cooper carried her to the sofa and sat them down.

  Julia wound her arms around his neck and cried. It was totally unstoppable. She cried out her rage and despair and fear, holding on to him tightly. He didn’t say anything. He just sat and held her until she calmed down.

  It occurred to Julia that this might be the last time she ever saw Cooper. She had such strong feelings for him, stronger than she’d ever had for any man, and now she’d lose him just when she’d found him.

  In an hour, maybe two, U.S. Marshals would be coming for her and she would be relocated. Whisked away in the heart of the night.

  It was clear to her that she had to cut off all ties to her previous life. Lives, at this point. So she’d leave Simpson forever and end up in North Dakota or Florida or New Mexico, with a new name and a new identity. Santana’s trial would probably be in the spring, Davis had been saying. Maybe later. And it could last for months. Afterwards, she had to stay in the program until all appeals ran out. It might be at least a year, probably two, before she was free to go where she wanted.

  Would what she had found with Cooper last through maybe a couple of years’ absence? It was all so fresh, so new. They’d only been lovers for two weeks and he’d been gone for a week of that. They hadn’t really even talked that much. Most of their time alone was taken up with the sex. Maybe that’s all it was, sex.

  Still, she’d be forever grateful to Cooper for the time they’d had together. He had kept her sane, especially during the nights. She had a sudden flash of herself in her new life. In some small, anonymous town somewhere, completely alone—and realized in a rush of warmth what Cooper meant to her.

  She was sitting on his lap. He was still naked. She could feel his erection under her thighs, but he wasn’t pushing at her with it. Her face was buried against his neck and his chin rested on top of her head. She kissed his neck. It was strong and warm, wet with her tears.

  “I have some things to tell you,” she said quietly, drying her eyes on his shoulder.

  “Yeah.” She could feel Cooper’s nod. “I’m listening.”

  “I’m not—I’m not who you think I am.” Julia sat up a little straighter, but kept her head on his shoulder. His broad, strong shoulder. She wouldn’t be able to lean on it for very much longer. She’d tell Cooper the truth, then she’d have to start packing. In a few hours’ time, she’d disappear from his life. Maybe forever. Julia closed her eyes for a moment.

  Her heart was thudding. This was so hard.

  Right now, right this instant, was the last second in her life in which she was Sally Andersen. Sam Cooper’s woman. Friend to Alice Pedersen, and Maisie and Beth and all the others. Mother to Fred. Maybe Cooper would keep Fred for her.

  Maybe not.

  Maybe Cooper would be so disgusted that she’d been living a lie, telling him lies, that he would just tip her out of his lap, out of his life, and walk out the door.

  “My name—” Her voice wavered. She bit her lip and waited until she was sure her voice was steady. “My name isn’t Sally Andersen, Cooper. I’m not from Bend. I’m not a grade school teacher.” He didn’t move in any way, except to tighten his arms around her. “My real name is Julia Devaux and I live—used to live in Boston. I’m an editor. Or rather, I was. Now I don’t know what I am anymore. Except scared.”

  Julia tilted her head on his shoulder so she could see his face. He was expressionless
, as usual. His black eyes watched her steadily, patiently.

  “I—I saw something terrible,” she said finally. “In September. I was taking a photography course and was wandering around the docks in Boston on a photo shoot, looking for gritty realism. I came across this abandoned warehouse. The gate had been removed, so I walked in. I had one of those automatic cameras like fashion photographers have, and I just walked around, shooting picture after picture. Finally, I walked into this inner courtyard and—” She bit her lip and tried to control the deep tremors in her body as she remembered. She could see it all again—the gray industrial landscape, the small terrified man, the black gun to his head, the massively built killer with the cruel face, the death shot.

  “I witnessed a murder, and it’s all on film,” she said simply and heard Cooper suck in a deep breath. All his muscles tightened. She stared at the place where his neck muscles met his shoulder. Even that part of his body was beautiful. “It was some gangland slaying. I—I was able to identify the murderer, a man named Dominic Santana, in a lineup. Apparently he’s some big mafia boss the FBI has been trying to get for years. I’m supposed to testify at the trial and I’m told he has put out a-a contract on me. A big one, apparently. Five million dollars. In the meantime, pending the trial, I’ve been put into the Witness Security Program. Something’s gone wrong with the security—”

  “Those fucking bastards!”

  Cooper lifted her off his lap and surged to his feet. Julia stared up in astonishment at his face, suddenly not impassive and not impenetrable. Cooper was enraged, every line of his big body tense with anger. Julia felt a little flutter of something beneath her breastbone. Not fear, of course. She wasn’t afraid of him…not exactly.

  But something was going to happen and it was out of her hands now. In some remote corner of her being she’d wanted to dump her problems into Cooper’s lap and now she had. Quite literally. But mixed with the relief was trepidation because Cooper suddenly seemed charged. A huge, terrifying figure of a man. An uncontrollable force of nature.