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Authors: Sarah McCarty

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BOOK: Tracker’s Sin
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hair almost compulsively.

Holding his gaze, she licked her lips, smiled and put her hands behind her head, pushing her breasts out, inviting a caress. She wasn’t

running.

“Shit.” Pleasure fol owed the curse as his fingers closed over her nipples, pul ing, tugging, twisting, drawing her into the storm, layering

another texture on top of the ones already painted.

“That’s good, baby. Oh, that’s good.”

The words flowed over her in dark encouragement. Her breasts throbbed with each tug, each twist. She wanted more. Needed more.

“More, sweets. Damn, you’ve got to take more.”

She tried, but it was too much. He was too much. But so good. She gagged and held on, shifting her grip to his strong thighs. Her jaw

ached. Her tongue burned; her pussy flowered and wept with need. As the passion built, she dug her nails into the back of his thighs and pul ed herself

farther onto his cock with each thrust. He hit the back of her throat again. She was better prepared this time. She didn’t gag as much. He pul ed back. His

thrusts picked up speed but never force. Despite what he’d threatened, he was careful, going only so far, never too far.

It wasn’t far enough. She wanted to take it al , wanted to swal ow him whole, but he was just too big, so she took as much she could,

pumping in tandem with her hands in counterpoint with his thrusts, fol owing the rhythm he set—faster, harder, deeper. She wanted more. Oh, God, she

wanted it al . Who could’ve known that something that had been so degrading before could be so pleasurable with Tracker?

“I’m going to come.”

He tried to pul away. She did not let him. She’d known many men this way against her wil . But it was different with Tracker. With Tracker it

was good. She shook her head, opened her mouth wider and relaxed her throat, giving him just that much more of herself. She could feel the desire

cresting within him as the pleasure built to the bursting point. She wanted it. For him. For herself.

She held on to his cock when he would have withdrawn. Her throat muscles worked as he pressed against them.

“Son of a bitch.” It was a curse, a blessing, a compliment. His hips bucked in her hands. He stopped pushing her away and started

dragging her closer. He came hard and sweet, chal enging her to take him al . She tried, but he was too much. It was good, though. Pleasing Tracker was

good. She swal owed one last time before dragging in a hard breath. She didn’t need to ask if she’d pleased him. The answer was in the breath he

couldn’t finish, the fine tremor that ran through him.

He didn’t immediately withdraw. She was glad. He was hers. This time was hers. Suckling his cock, she gentled him even as he gentled

his hands on her nipples. They were so sensitive. Almost bruised after the hours of lovemaking. They needed soothing. She wanted the touch of his

tongue, the softness of his kiss. She wanted soothing. She wanted to be loved.

As if understanding, Tracker brought his hand to her cheek, tracing her lips around his cock as if he, too, needed proof of the connection.

A shudder went through him. He cupped her chin as she circled her tongue around the head of his cock one last time. “Are you al right?”

She was more than al right. For the first time in a long time she felt whole.

14

T
hey were stil hungry. Stealing across the yard like thieves in the night, they sneaked into the kitchen. Tracker, dressed only in a pair of leather pants,

held the door open. As Ari stepped through, he pinched her butt.

She squealed. He held his finger to his lips. “Shh. You don’t want to wake the house.”

She giggled. Actual y giggled.

He lit the lamp on the table. A soft, yel ow light il uminated the room.

“Or do you?”

He wanted to know if she wanted to see Desi and Miguel. “Not yet.” She wasn’t ready for that yet. Desi, because she was so angry, and

Miguel, because she was just beginning to feel clean. To feel worthy. She smiled at Tracker over her shoulder as she went to explore what was in the

cupboards. “I need to eat.”

“Can’t say that I want to see your strength fail.”

Unbelievably, she blushed.

A china clock sat on the cabinet. She picked it up and tilted it to the light. Ten o’clock. Dinner was probably stil good.

Trucker walked over to the stove. She watched the muscles in his back flex under his skin, fol owed his spine down to his tight buttocks.

There wasn’t an ounce of fat on the man. He was al lean flesh and warm skin. The narrowness of his hips drew her eye. He took a step and muscle flexed

beneath the supple leather of his pants. She curled her fingers at the memory of how al that maleness felt surging against her palms.

“Looks like stew and biscuits. Wil that do?”

She blinked at the mundane question, then smiled. His mouth took on the softness that told her he was thinking about kissing her.

Weakness assaulted her knees. Good heavens, the man was potent.

“I could eat cooked rat right now.”

He faked a shudder. “Speak for yourself. I don’t think I could ever be that hungry.”

She knew that wasn’t true. In the quiet moments after making love, he’d given her a brief rundown of how the men of Hel ’s Eight had

managed after their parents had been kil ed. It was by what he didn’t say that she knew how bad it had been. They’d almost starved to death.

She didn’t contradict him, though. Tonight was not the time for that kind of memory. Tonight was about letting go of the past and greeting

the future. For both of them. And she wanted to begin this right.

Tracker lifted the lid of a smal blue crock on the stove. “How would you feel about honey for your biscuits?”

“Oh, yes!”

He gave her another one of those hot looks that she usual y missed because he was hiding behind his hat brim. He hid a lot behind that

hat brim. “Damn, I think I’m jealous of the biscuits.”

She found the silverware in a drawer. Closing it, she shook her head. He made her feel young and sil y and very desired. “Wel , if you’re

good, maybe later I’l see what else I like honey on.”

Hooking his hand behind her neck as she passed, he pul ed her to him. She loved it when he did that. There was such possession in the

gesture. It said more clearly than anything else “this woman is mine.” And if she was quick enough to look into his eyes before their mouths connected,

she’d see the anticipation he felt.

He tugged and she went, leading with her heart, because with him, she’d never had a chance. His kiss was hot and hard. Her response

was just as hot, just as hard. He let her go, a smile on his lips. “Stop distracting me, woman. I’m hungry.”


You
kissed
me.

“Hmm, and what did you expect, when you’re flaunting those pretty breasts at me?”

Looking down, she gasped. Her impromptu wrapper gaped open. She quickly clutched it closed.

“Don’t bother on my account.”

She rol ed her eyes. “What if someone saw?”

“There’s no one around to see.”

“What if someone comes in?”

“I’d hear them first.” He took the plates over to the table. Pul ing out a chair, he stood behind it and waited. For her, she realized. It was a

display of manners men reserved for ladies. And he was doing it for her. A smile lit her from the inside out and the niggle of doubt that he only wanted her

for sex died.

She sat. As he walked around the table to take his own seat, he said, “You’ve got to have more faith, Ari. You’re married to one of Hel ’s

Eight. We have the hearing of wolves.”

“Another trait is the inflated impression of their abilities.”

Ari would recognize that voice anywhere. It was an exact duplicate of her own. She turned and glared at Tracker. “You didn’t hear
that.

Or had he? He didn’t look surprised at al . As a matter of fact, he looked a bit satisfied.

“Damn you. When did you plan this?” she demanded.

“Ari…”

She ignored Desi. Tracker didn’t flinch from the accusation. “When you were asleep.”

“Why?”

“She’s family.”

And family was everything to him. “It was none of your business.”

“Maybe not.”

There was no maybe about it.

“I asked him to do it.” Desi stood in the doorway, a white silk wrapper tied around her slender body. Her expression was strained, her

eyes anxious.

“So I shouldn’t be mad at him, because he betrayed me, too?”

“No one betrayed you.”

“I trusted you.”

He took a forkful of food. “And you stil do. You’re just mad because I forced your hand.”

She wanted to throw her plate at him.

“Don’t.” The warning was so low that only she heard it. “Give her a chance, Ari.”

“Please,” Desi whispered. “Talk to me.”

Tracker nodded. “Talk to her.”

“Fine.” Ari glared harder at Tracker and said to Desi, “That’s a nice robe.”

Desi tightened the belt of her wrap. Another sign that she was nervous. Ari looked around the rough-hewn kitchen. The wrapper was

certainly more expensive than her surroundings would suggest Caine could afford.

Desi fiddled with the ties and looked away, a flush touching her cheeks. “Caine has it in his head that I have to have nice things.”

“He knows what you gave up,” Tracker said. “He doesn’t want you to regret it.”

“It was an easy trade. When it comes to a choice between love or money, the only choice is love. When are you going to understand that?


“Maybe when love starts putting food on the table.”

Desi rol ed her eyes. “Fine. I’l check back with you then.”

“Deal. In the meantime, you just go and let Caine spoil you as much as he sees fit.”

“I do,” Desi said. “I just worry that the ranch wil suffer.”

Tracker shook his head. “There’s no way. No matter how much Caine wants to spoil you, he won’t put the ranch at risk. It’s your livelihood,

his dream, your future. He knows that.”

Desi nodded and continued to stand in the doorway like an intruder in her own home. Ari waffled between pity and anger. It took her a

moment to realize why. She was jealous. Of her sister.

She pushed the food around her plate. Darn it. Life was simpler when it was a lie.

Tracker touched her foot under the table. She glanced up. Both he and Desi were staring at her. Waiting for her to say something. She

didn’t know what to say.

She settled for, “It’s good that he loves you.”

Desi’s smile was a mere stretch of her lips.

Tracker looked disappointed. “You haven’t seen your sister in over a year. Is that the best you can do?”

“You didn’t ask my permission to start this. You don’t get to complain when it doesn’t go the way you want.”

“Ari!”

This time she glared at her twin, the feeling of being trapped growing. “Stay out of it, Desi.”

“He just wanted you to be happy.”

“He can’t control everything.”

Tracker’s chair scraped across the floor as he stood. “I’m sorry, Desi. This was the wrong place.”

“Not to mention the wrong time,” Ari muttered, feeling smal after the surge of anger faded. She’d wanted to talk to her sister in her own

time, in her own way, when the rage had subsided. When she could do it without breaking down.

Tracker grabbed his plate and silverware. “You two have things to talk about. I’m going to leave you to it.”

If he thought he was leaving her with this mess, he had another think coming. Grabbing her own plate, she caught up to him in four strides.

“Where are we going?”

“On a picnic, I guess.”

“It’s night.”

“I’m stil hungry.”

Her appetite had long since fled.

“The picnic basket is beside the door,” Desi offered. Ari admired her for the self-control that al owed her to make the suggestion. Ari was

afraid if she tried to speak, she’d burst either into tears or screams.

Tracker picked up the basket with his free hand and nodded to Desi. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need you to apologize for me,” Ari told him.

“Apparently, you do.”

The censure hurt. “She’s my sister.”

“And my friend. You got a point in there somewhere?”

She did, but one look at Desi’s face kil ed the impulse. She was suffering.

Desi ran her hand through her hair. “Don’t let what you think I did come between you two. I’m not worth it.”

I’m not worth it.

How many times had Ari felt just that way? How many times had she had those same thoughts? How many times had she let that feeling

of being so low she wasn’t worth noticing make her decisions for her? Most recently, when they’d taken Miguel away. She hadn’t fetched him back

because she’d thought he deserved better. She was his mother and she loved him, but part of her couldn’t shake the belief that by keeping him with her

she was dooming him to a life of hel . She wanted him to have a better life, so she’d been prepared to sacrifice herself.

Looking into Desi’s eyes now, she saw the same sacrifice. She and her sister had come so far, but parts of them were stil out on the

plains, lost and looking for a way home. She wanted to hug Desi. She wanted to run. She didn’t do either. She just stood there, her thoughts turning in her

head.

Tracker opened the back door. Humid night air entered the room. Final y, she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to be like this.”

“I understand.”

The hel of it was, she probably did. Ari asked, “Is Miguel al right?”

“He misses you.”

“I miss him, too.”

“I’l bring him over tomorrow.”

She had to start moving forward sometime. Tomorrow was as good a day as any. “Thank you.”

Ari’s hand was cramping from holding the plate. She didn’t want the food, didn’t want the confrontation. She didn’t want to be this way

BOOK: Tracker’s Sin
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