Bounty Hunter Ch. 05

He sighed reluctantly. "Fine. You're the boss. But I want—need—to drive my truck," he said gruffly. She could tell his submissive veneer was wearing thin.

"It'll be fine parked there overnight. And they don't ticket on the weekends." She smiled sweetly at him as she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street.

"Wait! Meredith, seriously, I've got things in there I need."

"Things you need?" Meredith asked nonchalantly as she drove away, leaving the parking lot and Will's truck disappearing behind them. "What kind of things? You mean like your phone, wallet, money, ID, clothing, toiletries? Those kinds of things?"

Will laughed wryly and shook his head. "Okay. I get it. You aren't going to let me off easy, are you?"

"Did you ever even doubt it?" Meredith asked, as she headed towards her favorite strip of take-out eateries. "I am, however, going to feed you regular meals, so you're already getting one upgrade from what I got. What would you prefer, Indian or Thai?"

Driving home with the food, Meredith could still sense Will's frustration at being robbed of his vehicle and personal effects.

"You're pouting," she commented.

"What? I am not."

"Yes you are. You're pouting because I wouldn't take you to your truck. You don't make a very good slave, Will."

"Are you kidding me? I've done everything you asked me to! I sweated over a vat of hot acid that singed off all my nose hairs, then sieved about one thousand of your soil samples, and didn't complain once."

"It was more like twenty-five samples, but yes, you did a very good job. But that was just work. I didn't say you weren't a good worker, I said you weren't a good slave. You can't deal with any kind of loss of control, can you?"

He snorted derisively. "I can handle whatever you dish out, baby. And I'm not pouting."

"We'll see. Here we are."

*********

Meredith's home was a modest cottage that looked to be built around the 1930's or so. Will noticed it was mostly tidy, with clutter relegated to a few pockets here and there. It looked like she didn't spend much time at home.

He looked for signs of roommates or pets but found none.

The kitchen was homey and comfortable. It reminded Will of his grandmother's house. Meredith sat the sack of food on the small table in the kitchen and opened her fridge. "Beer?" she asked him.

"Yeah, sure."

"Good, because I don't think I have anything else to drink besides expired milk and tap water." She opened a couple of bottles, handed him one, and then began to unpack the pad thai and spring rolls.

"Not much for cooking at home, are you?"

"When I have time, I do. I've just been working so much lately..."

"See, if I had my truck here, I could go to the grocery store for you, or run whatever errands you need done but don't have time for. " Once out of his mouth, the offer sounded oddly intimate, so he added, "You, know. As part of my debt."

"True. But robbing you of some freedom is entertaining me right as much or more than just making you work."

Will shook his head and tucked into the pad thai. He was hungrier than he thought. "Mmm...this is good," he acknowledged, washing it down with a big swig of beer. "And the beer."

"It's one of our local microbrews," Meredith explained. "So...uh, did you get into any kind of trouble from the whole...mistaken identity thing?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Trouble?"

"You know, with the Montrose police or anything. They asked me about twenty times if I wanted to press charges."

"Well, you must have said, 'no' twenty times."

"Yes, but I didn't know if they would do something to you anyway. I mean, aren't there lots of rules and regulations and overseers for bounty hunters?"

He laughed. "That's funny. No, there are surprisingly few rules, and law enforcement has pretty mixed feelings on the matter. On the one hand, they perceive us as vigilantes, but on the other hand, we clean up a lot of petty messes saving them time to devote to more important matters. So basically, we're hated but tolerated, and given way too much leeway on these kinds of matters, if you ask me."

"So, you're saying I should have pressed charges against you?"



"Yeah," he said, studying his noodles intently. When he finally looked up she was staring at him with a look on her face he couldn't read.

"Yes," he reiterated, "I was negligent from the moment I began pursuing someone without a photograph to verify their I.D. And...it goes downhill from there."


They ate in silence for a few minutes, and Will studied her kitchen more closely. The counters were an old-fashioned laminate with metal edging, the appliances were so old they looked "retro", and he was pretty sure the floor was linoleum rather than vinyl. It really felt like the home of a much older person. As cosy as it was, it didn't quite fit Meredith's personality, he thought.

"Nice house," he commented, fishing for more information. "You been here long?"

"Thanks, about three years. Actually I've been here ever since I moved to Boulder. The house was my aunt's. I lived with her for over a year and helped her take care of it in exchange for cheap rent. Then she had to go into a nursing home, and she passed away last year."

"Oh, I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you. I was her only family, so she left me the house. I've been meaning to do some renovations. I still sort of feel like it's her house, you know?"

"Understandable," Will commented. "You should paint a room."

"Pardon?"

"Paint one room," he repeated. "Don't hire someone; do it yourself. And not white. Some color you like."

She laughed. "You're an interior decorator?"

"Nope, just an armchair psychologist. If you put some work into changing the house in some way, even a small way, it will be more yours. And motivate you to do more. Painting is pretty easy."

"Huh." She stared at him. "Maybe you're right. But right now, I need my baseboards scrubbed."

*********

Will finished cleaning the last section of baseboards in the small kitchen and looked up to find Meredith had dozed off while still sitting on the countertop, her head resting lightly against one of the cabinets.

Temporarily unencumbered by etiquette, he drank in the sight of her, his eyes roaming over her firey curls, smooth skin, the light sprinking of freckles on her face, her soft full lips. His mind leapt back to the last time he'd watched her sleep. His hands and body remembered well the curves her bulky sweater currently hid; thinking of her perky breasts caused his cock to twitch to life uncomfortably.

In her upright position, she would soon fall over, or even slip off the counter. Looking down at his watch, he saw it was after ten.

"Meredith," He prompted, but she didn't respond. He closed the space between them in a few steps and touched her shoulder. "Meredith."

She awoke startled, and in her effort to stay upright, grabbed his arm.

"Sorry," he said, "I was afraid you would fall over..."

Their eyes locked, and in that half second of letting his guard down, he let himself get sucked into a vortex of lust for her once again. The touch of her hand burned him through his shirt sleeve, and before he was even aware of moving closer to her, his lips were just barely grazing hers.

Time slowed for a few seconds as he held her in the almost-kiss. As he battled with himself to pull away, he became hyperaware of the heat of her breath, softness of her lips, the honey scent of her that smelled like heaven, blended with the lingering trace of tamarind from the Thai food.

He felt her hand leave his arm and slide across his chest to grab the front of his shirt. She tugged lightly, closing the microscopic gap between their lips.

*********

Meredith felt the blood pounding all over her body as she found herself up close and personal with the man who had haunted her dreams for the past two weeks. All of her senses went into overdrive as his lips barely brushed hers. She breathed in his scent, and every cell in her body remembered and reached for it as though starved.

Her hand, still clamped around his arm, felt hard muscle and sinew flex beneath his sleeve. She could sense the muscular tension in his body poised to move quickly, but there was a hesitancy in it, as though he were deciding whether to flee or jump her bones right there on her kitchen counter.

The ambiguity she sensed from him made her feel simultaneously like both predator and prey: urgently desperate he not get away while at the same time overwhelmed by his physical presence.

Finally, she could stand the expectancy no longer. She pulled him to her as she reached to press her lips firmly to his.

His response was as though a floodgate opened. He devoured her mouth as his arms circled her body, pressing her hard against him, one hand sliding down to caress her bottom. Heat and pleasure boiled up from her center, racing to her fingertips and toes, consuming her.

She wanted to touch him: his chest, shoulders, the nape of his neck. Her arms were trapped below his, and she wrestled to free them so her hands could explore him at will. At first her struggles only made him squeeze her harder, but as she became more desperate towards her goal, he loosened his grip enough to free her.

Finally free, she abandoned her original thoughts of caressing him softly, instead pulling impatiently at his shirt buttons and the waistband of his pants. The layers of denim between them frustrated her; she wanted him now, right here on the kitchen counter. Damn, but she had gone from zero to 60 in what seemed like a fraction of a second!

"Will, please..." she moaned against his lips, pushing her mound against his groin, and tugging again at his shirt tails.

As abruptly as it began, he pulled away from her, shifting to rest his head against the cabinet beside hers. "No! God, this is all kinds of wrong." His voice sounded tortured.

Still drugged by his kiss, Meredith protested. "No, no, no it's not. It's not wrong." She reached out to touch him again and just barely grazed her fingertips across his abdomen. She felt his muscles quiver at her touch.

"You want me, too. Tell me you don't." The aching desire she felt for him had intensified to the point of physical pain.

"Yes—no—Fuck! Meredith, I did not come here to force myself into your bed. Again."

"It was a mistake..."

He pushed her arms off of him and took another step back. "The mistaken identity was a mistake. Forcing myself on you as you repeatedly said no was way past being a mistake." He shook his head and raked his hair back, then looked around the kitchen. "Do you have another job for me tonight?" His tone was tight, his expression grim.

Meredith was still reeling from their intense encounter and his rejection. "What? Oh. Uh, no, I don't think so."

"Then I should probably call it a day. Where am I sleeping?"

Meredith had a sudden image of him asleep in her bed, naked and tangled in sheets, and felt fire rising in her cheeks again. Damn him!

"The couch?" he prompted when she didn't answer him. It pulled her out of her reverie.

"No, uh, guest room. I'll show you." Meredith slid off the counter and led him down the hallway to her spare room. Thankfully, it was reasonably clean; she had left a stack of clean towels on the bed but otherwise it was ready to be used.

She sat the towels on a dresser, then stupidly pointed at them and said, "Towels. I mean, umm, there's some towels if you need them. The bathroom is across the hall."

"Okay."

Her physical frustration was beginning to morph into anger. He was really going to push her away, when he had to be as wound up as she was!

Another moment of awkward silence confirmed this, so she moved towards the door. "Sleep well, Will," she bit out at him angrily as she pulled the door closed behind her.

As soon as the door clicked shut, she felt tears well up and was glad to escape to her own room. She fell backwards onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. What did she expect? It was like the man had been specially created just to drive her crazy.

Or maybe he'd just needed the tiniest bit more persuasion from her. Maybe she had backed down too readily, like the timid mouse that she was. Maybe she should have led him to her room, pushed him down on the bed, and ignored his no's. Surely she could have easily worn down his resistance? Damn! Now she was angry at herself as well—angry, aroused, and frustrated to the verge of tears.

If she stayed in her room, it would be another very long night, and she'd had too many of those lately. In a split second, she felt something inside her give way.

She wiggled out of her jeans and sodden panties, and slipped on a short cotton jersey robe that tied at the waist. Digging into the back of her lingerie drawer, she pulled out a box of condoms and slipped one into the robe's pocket; she was not going through the several days of miserable worry again as she had done last time until she finally got her period. No, she lucked out once and was not eager to test her luck again. She padded back out into the hallway to the guest room door and placed her hand on it, wavering yet again. Knock or barge right in?

Knocking seemed laughable, given her intentions.

*********

Will stripped down to a t-shirt and boxers and looked around the room. It was furnished with an oversized, overstuffed chair next to some built-in bookshelves filled with books. Knowing there was no way in hell he was going to sleep anytime soon, he plopped down in the chair and was flipping mindlessly through a randomly chosen book from a shelf, willing his cock to go down, when he heard the knock on his door.

Shit! He looked down at his tented boxers and then hurriedly placed the book over his lap.

"Yeah?"

She entered, closed the door quietly behind her, then turned to him. His eyes went immediately to her nude legs, then made their way back slowly to her face. Her impassioned, predatory expression and flushed cheeks made spoken words redundant, and he felt his breath hitch. Oh yeah, he was in deep trouble.

She walked over to him and climbed onto the chair, straddling his legs.

"Lord Tennyson," she stated, staring at his crotch.

"Huh?"

"That was Aunt Margaret's favorite poet. Just some light reading before bed?" She pulled the book away from him and tossed it aside.

He hadn't even read the title. "Still surprised I'm not an illiterate hick, I see."

Ignoring the barb, she ran her hands up his chest, trailing them to the nape of his neck, then burying her fingertips in his hair. "Did you come here for penitence, Will?"

"Yes."

She leaned down and kissed him deeply, and he felt his cock throb again.

"The week of slave labor is only penitence for kidnapping me and disrupting my work." She kissed him again. He attempted to circle her waist with his hands, but she grabbed them and forced them back on the arms of the chair.

"There still remains the debt you incurred from fucking me handcuffed to a bed. We haven't yet negotiated that, have we?" The edge of aggression in her voice was new to him; surprisingly it was turning him on. Her lips and tongue trailed down to his earlobe, which she caught sharply between her teeth.

The bite ran straight to his loins like an electric current, and he his breath hitched again as he again tried to pull her into his arms, but she pushed them down again. Though he could have easily stopped her, he allowed her to guide his arms back to the chair again.

"And what would you consider justice for that?" he asked her breathily.

"Eye for an eye sounds really good to me right now," she whispered in his ear before returning to plunder his mouth again.

"Too bad my handcuffs are in my truck," he said when she finally let him up for air. "You should have let me drive it here."

She stroked his cock through the thin fabric of his boxers and he hissed sharply. "We don't need them. You came here willingly to pay for your sins, didn't you Will?" She stroked him again.

"Jesus, woman, what do you want?" he asked hoarsely. Her ministrations were starting to wear down his patience with whatever game she was playing.

"I want you keep you hands right here. Deal?"

"God, Meredith, I don't think I can promise—"

She untied the sash of her robe and let it fall apart, exposing her breasts. "Say it's a deal."

His eyes drifted down to her naked sex hovering over him. He could feel the heat emanating from her center. "Deal," he growled reluctantly. He feared her plan would be to tease him to the brink of insanity, but instead she pulled his boxers down to his knees in one swift tug, fumbled briefly to get a condom on him, then quickly impaled herself on him.

Instinctively, he thrust up into her, allowing her to grind her mound against him. She began fucking him fast and furious as she recaptured his lips. Her kiss was aggressive and awkward, a rough and tumble tangle of lips and tongue, her teeth occasionally clacking against his own as she nipped at his lips.

It took ever ounce of effort he had not to grab her hips and ass, but he kept his word, instead digging his fingers into the upholstery as she continued to ride him vigorously. As her arousal increased, she broke off the kiss and grabbed the back of the chair with one hand. Despite the added leverage, her thrusts became increasingly erratic, and Will felt increasingly frustrated by his voluntary incapacitation.

Her breasts, jiggling with each hard thrust, further enticed his arms to reach for them of their own volition, but she once again pushed his wrists down. Just when Will was sure he could not last another second, she cried out and convulsed hard, burying her face against his nape, then soundly biting the tender spot where his neck and shoulder met.

The pain sent him over the edge, and as he climaxed intensely, he thrust upward hard enough to lift his buttocks off the chair.

The both collapsed limply for several minutes afterwards. His heart felt as though it would pound out of his chest, and his body was racked several times with electric aftershocks of pleasure.

Assuming the game was complete, he let his arms wrap around her and caress the small of her back softly. But a final time, she pushed him away as she lifted herself off of him and the chair. "Consider that particular debt paid, Will," she said, in a tone he couldn't read. She tossed him a towel, and then the book she had discarded earlier. "Here, clean yourself up. And enjoy Tennyson."

She exited the room as quietly as she had entered, leaving him dazed and confused as to what the hell had just happened.