Protected Pt. 04

WILLOW

I slowly extracted myself from the enveloping folds of sleep, warm and comfortable with Mafic curled up in his normal place next to my stomach. It took me a moment to realize I was at home, in my own bed, and that the warm body tucked in close to my back was Colt. I sighed. I'd been vulnerable last night, needing desperately to feel the touch of another person, and had turned to the only person available, the only person who could truly understand how I was feeling. Had he tried, I'm certain I'd have given myself to him, but he hadn't. He'd held me, just as I asked, his almost loving embrace making me feel safe, and his closeness keeping the nightmares away.

With him holding me, knowing the emotional turmoil he was enduring, the pain I'd inflected on four families, had been too much to bear and I'd cried myself to sleep in his arms. Sometime in the middle of the night, I'd rolled onto my right side, my customary sleeping position, and he'd snuggled into my back.

I sighed again. I was still wrapped in his arms, and his big, strong hands were gently cupping my breasts. As I slowly became more awake, I realized he was also sporting a massive erection, his hardness pressing against my ass as his warm breath tickled my neck and shoulders. With a small smile, I slowly opened my eyes. The windows were dark, and my phone, propped in its charging stand, flicked to 4:02 as I watched. We had to meet with Dad in four hours. As I slept, an idea had taken root. Larke Oil was going to make this right, or as right as we could, by paying for these men's funerals, Goose and Big Dick's medical bills, it was paying for their kids to attend college, and it was going to make a lump sum payment to their families to help them in the short term. Further, Dad wasn't going to question the competence or sacrifice of these men, at least not in front of me.

I was more grateful to Packard, Juice, Fish, and Grace, and Goose and Big Dick, than I could never express. I was prepared to go to the mat for the BDMC, and if it came to it, Dad was going to have to choose between doing the right thing or losing me as his daughter. I couldn't bring back the men who'd given everything so I could live, but I could perhaps ease their widow's and children's burden.

I willed away my tears before they could fall. Then there was Colt. Despite everything, he'd stood with me. He could have, and maybe should have, cut me loose after Packard was killed, but he hadn't. None of the men had. Even after the death of Grace and Fish, his two best friends, he still didn't blame me... or he said he didn't, though I wondered if he was telling the truth. The BDMC had been placed in an impossible situation with me at the center, a situation that had caused the death of four of his friends, and the injury of two more, and yet here he was, still potentially risking his life to protect mine.

I didn't know men like the BDMC existed anymore. Good men, men who'd after they'd given their word would do what they said they'd do, no matter the cost. I'd seen the anguish in Colt's eyes and face after Packard's death, again in the hospital, and then again when I'd gone begging to him last night. How could he stand it? Why had he pushed aside his own grief just to comfort me? And how? Compared to Colt, I barely knew these men, and yet, he'd comforted me. I should be the one comforting him.

I glanced at my phone again. 4:04. I wanted him. I didn't think it was pity or gratitude, but even if it was one of those things, it didn't matter because I still wanted him. I desperately wanted him. I wanted to feel his touch, to feel something other than sorrow, to feel joy if only for a moment.

I flooded instantly with the thought of him being inside me. I'd been in the field for more than two months, and it'd been weeks before that since I'd felt the touch of a man. Even then, it was some guy who's name I couldn't remember who'd left me alone after our tumble and a brief cuddle. The guy had scratched an itch, but he couldn't be bothered to stay the night... and yet, here was Colt, holding me warm and close, giving me everything and asking for nothing in return despite the pain and loss I'd caused him.

I moaned to myself as I imaged the feel of his hardness inside me. I was still wearing my sleep shirt, and he was still in his underwear, but my need was rampaging inside me like an uncontrollable beast. I squirmed enough to work my shirt over my hips, then I reached behind me and grasped his hardness before shoving his underwear down enough to expose his cock. He began to stir as my wriggling pulled him from sleep, but I wouldn't be denied, and I hoped he'd been telling the me the truth that he didn't have a girlfriend. I rocked my hips forward, then back as I held his manhood, moaning loudly as he slid into my wetness.

He gasped as this shaft parted the petals of my flower, his embrace becoming desperately tight as he buried his face into my neck. I moaned again as he began lunging his hips into me with slow, hard, deep thrusts. He gasped again into my neck as his embrace tightened even more. I reached behind me to wrap his head in my arm and pulled his lips tighter into my neck.

We'd only just started, but my orgasm was bearing down on me like an approaching, all destroying avalanche. As my rapture surrounded me, I moaned and quivered with bliss. He whimpered into my neck as he speared himself deep and held himself there, his embrace crushingly tight, but I wanted to be held tighter still. His hips rocked back, nearly pulling his cock from me before he lunged deep again, and again he whimpered as he ground his face into my neck and shoulders. Another hard lunge, another painful sounding whimper as he held himself inside me.

I gasped as my orgasm washed out of me. He rammed himself deep again, his cry of grief, or pleasure, or perhaps both tearing at me. Another hard and deep plunge, and I felt wetness on my shoulder as he held me in a rib straining embrace. I wrapped my arms around his and held him tight as he plunged into me again, then again. Finally, I felt his essence gush inside me as he forced his manhood deep into me as he shuddered.

He continued to hold me, his face buried in my neck as his gasps and pants intermixed with his whimpers of anguish. I wanted to cry, his sounds of sorrow ripping at my heart as he clung to me like I was a lifeline. I said nothing. No words I could say would ease his pain.

Finally, after a long moment of his near silent suffering, his embrace slowly relaxed, but he still held me tight, as if afraid to let me go. After another long moment, I felt him move, then the caress of his lips on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have done that."

"What?" I whispered in reply.

"This."

"I wanted it. I needed it."

He was quiet for another long moment, but I gave him time. "So did I."

"Are you sorry?"

Another long pause. "No."

"Neither am I."

He nodded against my back before he kissed my shoulder again as his embrace relaxed even more. I tried to turn toward him, but he tightened his embrace briefly to stop my turn. I didn't resist and allowed him to hold me.

"I'm sorry about your brothers," I said softly.

He nodded slowly. "So am I."

We were quiet for another long moment as I watched my phone slowly click over numbers. 4:16... 4:19... 4:21... His cock finally softened enough to fall from inside me. 4:28... 4:32... He relaxed behind me, his breathing becoming slow and deep, his embrace loosening but never falling away. 4:34... then the darkness of sleep took me.

-oOo-

The alarm on my phone was bleating, pulling me out of the depths of sleep. Out of long habit, I grabbed the phone and the room fell silent before I placed it on my nightstand. Colt was still tucked in warm behind me with his arms surrounding me. It'd felt like only moments ago that we'd given ourselves to each other, but lightly less than ninety minutes had passed.

He stirred behind me, and I twisted to face him. "Good morning," he murmured as he rolled to his back. I tucked myself into his side and he once again surrounded me with his arms.

"Good morning," I mumbled as I kissed him gently on the lips.

It was the first time I'd kissed him, and while he accepted the kiss, he made no offer to extend it.

"How are you this morning?" he whispered, his gaze holding mine.

In way of answer, I kissed him again and allowed it to linger. This time he responded and began kissing me in return. Satisfied he wasn't pushing me away, I slowly pulled back from the kiss to watch his eyes.

"Better than last night. How about you?"

He held my gaze for a long moment. "Okay," he whispered.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded slowly. "Tough night. I didn't sleep much."

I smiled to myself, glad I'd been able to help him forget his troubles and sleep, if only for an hour or so. "Are we okay?" I asked. He seemed distant, and while I understood he was still grieving the loss of his friends, I wanted to make sure his reluctance was that and nothing else.

He continued to watch my eyes. "Yes... if you are."

I relaxed slightly. "Yes. No regrets?"

"No," he responded immediately.

"I'm so sorry for everything that's happened."

"No. Stop. It isn't your fault."

"I can still be sympathetic for your loss."

He continued to watch my face. "So long as you understand this isn't on you, and that you have nothing to feel guilty about."

This time I nodded slowly. "I know," I murmured. "I know I didn't do anything to cause this, but it's still so... hard. I feel so guilty over--"

He touched my lips. "Enough," he whispered. He held my gaze, and I sensed he had more to say, but instead he pulled my lips gently to his. He kissed me slowly, deeply, lovingly even before allowing me to pull back from the kiss. "I underestimated the threat. That has nothing to do with you. What happened, happened, but you're safe now."

"You couldn't have known," I murmured. "I heard your conversations. None of the BDMC knew what to expect."

He nodded slowly. "I know."

"Do you?"

He held me gaze. "Yes." I again sensed he had more to say. "I just have to... come to grips I guess... with what's happened. I made a mistake, and it cost us four lives. It's going to take me a while to make peace with that."

"Taking the job?" I asked quietly. "If you hadn't, I'd be dead now."

He nodded slowly. "I know. But after Packard..."

"What else could you have done?" I asked when he didn't continue. "They had machine guns! Did you expect something like that? Did anyone? Was there anything that would lead you to believe that... whoever was trying to kill me... would come after me with a fucking machine gun?"

I knew the answer, and so did he, but I was going to make him say it. "No," he finally said.

"No," I repeated, my voice firm. "Yet, despite that, you saved Big Dick, Goose, and me."

"Yeah," he said, but I could hear the sadness in his voice.

I knew what he was thinking. He'd saved three, but three more had died. "Thank you," I murmured.

"For what?"

"For saving me."

"It wasn't just me."

"I know... but nobody else is here to thank." I lay my head on his shoulder. We were quite for a long moment. "I don't want to have to meet with Dad."

"We have to."

I sighed. "I know, but that doesn't mean I want to."

He pulled my lips to his for another long, luxurious kiss. "We're going to be late if we don't get up."

"I don't care."

He sighed. "Maybe, but we're going to have to face the music sooner or later, and I just as soon not piss your father off by being late."

He pulled my lips to his one more time, but he kept the kiss short this time. He slid out from under me, and as he stood, he pulled his underwear up to cover his hard cock. He'd gone to sleep without pulling them up after our earlier sexual congress, and I couldn't help but notice how the stretchy fabric outline his manhood in a most appealing way.

"You shower, I'll fix us breakfast."

With a groan of frustration, and dread, I tumbled out of the bed.

.

.

.

COLT

"Ready?" I asked as I trotted down the steps.

"Yes."

She opened the door into the garage, but I continued past her to scan the street from the family room's single large window. There were no cars parked anywhere in sight and nobody standing around. With a nod to myself, I turned. When I joined her, she reached for the door opener, slapped it, and then hurried to the passenger side and threw herself inside. I smiled to myself as I dropped into the drivers' seat. She was thinking. I backed the car out but left it running in the drive as I exited the car and pressed the button on the garage's exterior keypad to start the door down. As the door was closing, I quickly glanced around before returning to the car.

I drove to the gate that led into her gated community. Unlike coming in, where I had to stop and enter a code, the gate sensed the car's approach and started opening automatically.

"You're going to have to help me," I said as I passed the gate.

"Right."

I was still feeling wooly from the lack of sleep last night. I didn't know what time I dropped off, but it'd felt like I'd just gone to sleep when she woke me. "Go right, or right, you'll help me?"

"Go right."

I followed her directions until we were on the interstate leading into Houston. The traffic was an abomination, and even though her phone had woken us at six, it was clear we were going to be late. She hadn't allowed enough time for both of us to shower and still be there at eight. As I crept along in the ghastly Houston rush hour traffic, she called her father and told him we were on our way but running late.

As she assured him there was no trouble, other than traffic, I couldn't keep my eyes off her. I wanted her. I'd been physically attracted to her since the moment I met her, but this was more. Over the past couple of weeks, when I'd been her constant companion, I'd gotten to know her better. I'd never doubted her intelligence, but during my time with her, I'd learned of her strength, compassion, and humor. Now the attraction was much more than the fact she was a stunningly beautiful woman.

When she'd taken me this morning, I'd completely lost it. I couldn't explain why, but her touch had shattered my control and all the guilt, fear, and loss I'd bottled up inside had come pouring out. It'd taken everything I had to prevent myself from weeping as I'd held her tight, clinging to what control I'd maintained only by drawing comfort from her touch.

She'd tried to turn to face me, but I hadn't wanted her to see my tears, and she'd allowed me to maintain my dignity. After my climax, I'd tumbled into a deep sleep, our... love making... lancing and releasing some of the sorrow, and then her scent and warmth soothing me like a balm. I still mourned for my brothers, but I no longer felt so... brittle... as if any little additional thing would cause me to explode.

In the beginning, I'd shoved the feelings of attraction down deep, but this morning I could no longer think of her as just someone to protect, as just a job. I was deeply invested in keeping her safe. This morning forced me to admit I was beginning to care for her... and because there was no way in hell I was allowing my brothers to die for no reason.

She caught me staring at her as I waited for the line of traffic to move. I forced myself to look away, but not before I saw her smile. She took my hand and I squeezed it gently, and having her hand in mine took away another tiny bit of pain.

We finally arrived at the Larke Oil building, twenty minutes late. Rather than going in through the front lobby, as I had every time I'd been there, she directed me to another parking lot. She handed me a badge that I swiped to open the steel gate, and I parked in the spot neatly lettered Willow Larke. Another swipe of the badge opened a door from the parking lot, and a third swipe gained us access to an elevator. When the door opened after the ride up, I followed Willow down a hall. She led me into an office that was similar to, but larger than, Ms. Larke's.

"Morning, Willow. He's expecting you," the efficient looking woman behind the desk said.

Willow barely slowed as she opened the large door. Her father was sitting behind his desk, staring at something on a computer. He glanced up with the opening of the door, tossed a pair of glasses on the desk, and then rose.

"Dad," Willow said, rushing to her father and falling into his arms as he stepped around the desk.

"I'm so glad you're home safe," Harris said, holding his daughter tight.

Movement to my left caught my attention and I spun toward it, reaching for my weapon as adrenaline flooded my system. I blew out a long breath when I realized it was Pam rising from a conversation group like the one in her office.

"Ms. Larke," I said as Pam came forward and extended her hand.

My own hand was quivering as I took hers. She smiled at me, obviously realizing how jumpy I was, but made no comment about the fact I nearly drew a gun on her.

"Thank you for keeping her safe. I'm sorry for your loss. If there is anything Larke Oil can do..."

"There is," Willow said, pulling out of her dad's embrace. "Dale Packard, the first man who was killed, has a son. I think Larke Oil should set up a trust for him to attend school." She looked at me. "Did Fish, Juice, or Grace have kids?"

"Grace has, had, three little girls. Juice, a boy and a girl, and Fish a little girl."

Willow looked at her father. "For all the kids. I think it's the least we can do considering they gave their lives for mine. I also want us to pay for their funeral expenses, for all of them, and any medical expenses for Reed Dickson and Ken Gosling. And a final thing... I want us to give each family lump sum to help tied them over until they can get on their feet again."

When Willow was quiet for a moment, Harris and Pam glanced at each other. "We can talk about this later."

"Nothing to talk about," Willow said, her voice firm. "We're doing this."

"I said we'd talk about this later," Harris repeated, his voice becoming harder. "Right now I need to find out what is going on with you. Why is someone trying to kill you?" He looked at me. "I'll be forever in your debt, Mr. Arne. Any ideas on why someone is targeting my daughter?"

"I'm not forgetting about this," Willow said before I could answer. "I owe these men my life." Harris glared at his daughter. I suspected when she was growing up, there were some sparks between those two.

"I know, Willow," Pam said softly. "We'll do the right thing." That seemed to satisfy Willow, and Pam turned her attention to me. "Won't you please sit down, Mr. Arne. Can we get you anything? Coffee? Tea?"

"Thank you, no. Willow and I had breakfast before we left."

We settled, with Harris directly across from me. "Now, as I was asking, do you have any idea why someone is trying to kill Willow?"

"No, sir. This latest attempt looks like a cartel hit, but I'm in the dark as to why. If it's as Ms. Larke thinks, that you're closing off a route their mules use, I think the attacks would be more general, but they appear to be targeting Willow specifically. That doesn't make any sense to me."

Pam nodded. "I think I agree with you now. Especially since you appear to be correct that what we thought was vandalism is actually theft. We checked with the nearest scrapyard, and they've seen an uptick in the amount of steel coming into the yard."

I glanced between the other three people in the room. "Any grudges? Anyone who might want to get to you, either of you, or Willow, for some reason?"