Claiming His Bounty Ch. 01

"So, what exactly does a bounty hunter do?" She played with her hoop earring, running her finger around the inner rim. Her other hand held her cocktail which she sipped every few minutes. Her lusting eyes never strayed from him.

"Well, some of us prefer to be called bail enforcement agents, but it's alright if you call me a bounty hunter. I arrest criminals who jump bail. I get the reward for turning them in."

"Sounds dangerous." Her fingers lightly guided her straw to her pink lips for another sip.

"It is. But I always make it out alive. My trusty firearm has saved me many times," Felix said as he casually opened his jacket to give her a peek at the gun in its holster. He couldn't admit that the most action he had with his gun was cleaning it regularly.

She leaned over her drink toward him. "Do you carry handcuffs too?" she whispered in his ear.

He smirked and raised his eyebrow. "Why? Have you been a naughty girl?"

"Maybe," she said and rocked back in her bar stool.

"I might have to arrest you then." He tried not to look too eager. His night was getting better. Finally, a chance to have Shawna in his bed. She sipped the rest of her drink. His eyes traveled from her pretty face to the tits spilling out of her top.

"Why don't we talk more about what you do at your place? Maybe you can show me exactly how you take a criminal in. I'll pretend to be the bad girl." Her eyes looked him up and down too. His dark hair and dark eyes made him appear dangerous. It was what she was looking for. She centered her focus on his jean's zipper and bit her lip.

"Not tonight, sweetheart." A middle aged ill-dressed man carrying a couple folders pushed his way in between them.

"Really, Marv?" Felix complained.

Marv turned to the woman. "You don't want anything to do with this creep. Plus, the doctor still don't know what's wrong with his dick." Felix threw his hands up. Shawna, with an obvious look of disgust on her face, nodded grimly at the two men and left.

"Shawna, wait! There's nothing wrong with my dick!" he announced to the nearly empty bar and turned his glare onto Marv. "You fucker! You know how long I've been trying for her."

"Yeah, whatever. You don't want that slut. Trust me." Felix shook his head and gulped down his beer. "Got something for ya." Marv slid the folder to him.

He opened the file. "What? C'mon! Again? He almost killed me last time. He threatened to sit on me!"

"I guarantee this will be the last time. He's in a big, fucking mess."

Felix sighed and finished his glass. "You fuckin owe me. My hands could have been on her titties by now."

Just before 2 AM, Felix fell onto his bed in his small apartment. The job wasn't as bad as he had anticipated. With a hand firmly on his holster, he barged into the fugitive's house. But the huge man succumbed to tears rather than violence, begging "don't make me go back there!" Easy job, easy money. He passed out with his clothes still on, wishing in his final moments of consciousness that sometime soon he would go to sleep and wake up with a beautiful woman next to him from then to the end of his life.

~

He tossed the coffee cup into the trashcan in front of "Marv's Bail Bonds" and went through the door. No one was in the lobby, so he went behind the desk and down the hall. Marv waved him in as he knocked on his open door.

"Got one." Marv handed him another file that was thin and almost empty. "You're gonna love this one."

Felix flipped it open. His eyes immediately rested on the mug shot. She was skinny with a fair boob size, blonde bangs and crimped hair, with a scared look on her face. She seemed to be asking the camera, "What am I doing here?" And she was a beauty, downright sexy.

"Let me guess...meth?"

"Tax evasion."

Felix laughed. "Tax evasion?" He shook his head and read her information.

Carry Wilder. Age 27.

He studied the photo again. It was a shame she had to go to jail. He wanted a night with her underneath him, moaning and crying out his name. "This should be easy. I'll have her in by tonight."

"Don't forget your gun."

Felix pointed to the folder. "Seriously?"

"Maybe she's got a boyfriend living with her." He nodded. The risk was too high. He decided to do a stakeout first before charging in.

He parked six houses down from the blue, white trimmed house with a front yard almost overgrown with weeds. It wasn't neat, but it wasn't screaming slums either. Only one car occupied the driveway. Hers. No other cars were parked on the curb or anywhere near the house.

After an hour of boring observation, he closed his eyes and succumbed to his drowsiness. A few hours later, he woke up pissed that he wasn't paying attention. But the scene hadn't changed. Her car was still there. He cracked his neck and stepped outside. The cool breeze energized him and helped him regain his focus.

His gun was in its holster. His handcuffs were hanging from the back of his jeans. His paper for the girl was folded in his pocket. He was set. His eyes swept the area surrounding the house. He noticed the enormous tree in the backyard. It was perfect for his lie. He ascended the few steps to the porch. He knocked and turned his body to where only an outline of him can be seen through the peephole.

"Who are you?" the woman called from the other side of the closed door. The fear in her voice gave her away. She was alone.

"It's your neighbor, from down the street. Um, my cat is in your tree." As soon as the door opened, he pushed his way in, forcing her back. "Hello," he greeted her as he threw her back in and closed the door behind him.

Carry quickly backed away from him and farther into the living room. Her hand was firmly planted on the back of her hip. The other hand shook as she reached out in a defensive pose. Her eyes were wide with terror and anger. "Who the hell are you?"

He noticed the packed bags neatly set at the door next to him. "Whatcha doin skipping town, sweetheart?" She cocked her head, not understanding his comment. "You're in a lot of trouble." He took the handcuffs and swung them around his hand. Her eyes followed each circle they made. "C'mon, sugar. Don't make this hard on yourself." Her fear turned to desperation. He could see it in her eyes. She was determined to escape. Her hand awkwardly clung to her back. He advanced as she stepped backward. "C'mon, doll. Let me take you in. You have nowhere to go, except with me."

She flinched as she bumped into a small stand behind her. "My boyfriend is going to be home any minute," she said with hesitation. Felix shrugged. "He'll kill you if he sees you." He smirked and kept walking toward her, still swinging the handcuffs. She looked around him at the living room window.

"That doesn't scare-"

"He's home!"

Instinctively, he quickly turned and took a few steps to the window, heart pounding, but he couldn't see anyone or any new car parked nearby. He turned back and stared at the gun pointed at him. He surrendered his hands, cuffs hung from his fingers.

"You don't want to do that..." He used his best patronizing tone to mask his fear.

"You don't know what I want," she retorted, shaking the gun at him.

Appearing as calm as possible, he raised an eyebrow and tried to reason with her. "You shoot me, and you'll be in a lot of trouble."

He underestimated her intelligence and her hatred for him. "You're not a cop," she taunted. "No one gives a shit about a bounty hunter."

"Bail enforcement agen-"

"Shut up."

"Ok." He did, hands still up, backing away from her. She stayed back, gun still pointed at him, trying to find the words that could help her win. Her aim was at his crotch, and the shakiness and grip she had on the gun told him that she never shot one before. "You do realize that if I don't have you in cuffs and out the door in five minutes, my backup will come in."

"You don't have any backup," she sneered. Her shaking was more pronounced. Her face could no longer hide the physical pain she endured keeping the gun on him.

"Wanna bet? Look out the back door. He's probably there waiting." She slightly shook her head. He couldn't play the same trick on her. "Ok, keep the gun pointed at me, and we'll walk there together." She started taking paces to the side. When she turned her head back, he pounced. He latched onto her arm and pried the gun away before she had a chance.

"Ow!" she cried out as he yanked it away.

He took two steps back and smiled in victory. "Ha ha!" He pointed the gun straight at her.

Instead of ducking or running, she rolled her eyes. Her tiny frame was no match for him, yet he held his gun like his life depended on it. "Really?"

"You pulled a gun on me!" He waved the firearm at her. "Turn around. Hands on your head."

Defeated, she brought her hand from her back and turned. A large patch of fresh blood stained her white tank top just above her left hip. Her bloody left hand trembled behind her head.

"Holy shit, what happened?" The gash was at least a couple inches, an obvious slash from a knife. "Who did this to you?"

Her head hung and her body shuddered. "My boyfriend." She sniffled. "He left just before you came in. He won't be back until tomorrow." She sniffled louder. "To make sure I'm gone by then." He heard the tears forming.

"Aw dammit!" It meant a trip to the hospital first. His promise to have her in by night wasn't going to be possible. "Fuck," he said, running his hand through his hair. "Put your hands behind you. I'll be careful."

She dropped her arms slowly from her head to her hips. "You're gonna take me to jail? Like this?"

"We'll go to the hospital first."

Her breathing became shallow and rapid. "Wait! Here me out."

"Make it quick."

She faced him. "It's my boyfriend. This whole mess is his doing. Please, my life is in danger. I can't be seen at the hospital. I have supplies to clean up this cut."

"You'll need stitches-"

"I know how to stitch myself up. Just please, let me take care of this here. Then, I'll go with you."

The terror in her voice was real. He knew she wasn't telling him a fairy tale. Her lips quivered as her pleading eyes stared at him. The damsel in distress act was working on him. He lowered the gun. "You better keep your word. Nothing funny, got it?" She nodded with a small, grateful smile. "Show me where."

"Bathroom," she said and pointed at the hallway. He followed her. He could see how her boyfriend mistreated her based on what he observed. Everything feminine was taken over by beer bottles, his clothes, and his expensive toys. The walls showed disturbing evidence of his rage. Punched holes and tiny specks of blood were everywhere. He bit his tongue to keep from asking how bad his abuse was. More than ever, Felix wanted to make sure she went to prison just for her safety against her boyfriend's wrath.

"You coming?" Carry asked in the doorway of the bathroom. He tore his gaze away from a stain of old blood with a smell of bleach coming it, as if the bastard half-assed an attempt to clean it up. Felix entered, shivering. She crouched at the sink and brought out boxes from the cabinet below. "You wouldn't be grossed out stitching me up, would you?"

He shrugged. "I guess I can handle it. Do you have something to deal with the pain?"

"Thankfully." She held up the needles. "Just enough to get through this job."

"You know how?"

"I was a nurse for a couple years." She organized the supplies neatly on the sink and took off her shirt. "Clean it first. Use that." She pointed to a couple of packets. She sat on the tub while he knelt on the floor next to her. He gently wiped the blood away.

"So, you WERE a nurse?"

"Is that a question?" She sighed. "Before I got fired three years ago."

"Is there a story about that?" He threw away one packet and tore open the next.

"Of course. My jackass boyfriend got me in trouble. He used me to swipe meds for him and his friends to deal. Then, I was fired and unemployed. I had to work so many stupid, odd jobs. Then the bastard took my money. When I finally got enough to survive and didn't tell him, he got pissed and punished me. He told me to give all of my shit to him and that prevented me from filing taxes. I knew that was bad, but I didn't know that meant jail time. He didn't give a fuck. He said I deserved it."

She flinched as he cleaned closer to the wound. "And why are you still with him?"

"I have no choice."

"Because he's abusive."

She shook her head. "That's a small reason." She rubbed her forehead and face. "It's his friends, his workers, his bitches. He's the ringleader of a bad group of people. Burglary, dealing, smuggling, murder. Like the fucking mafia. I have to stay. I know too much. They'll kill me if I run. And they won't kill me nicely either." She showed him where to poke her. She sucked in her breath at the sting. "Give it some time."

He set down the needles. "What do you mean, they won't kill you nicely?"

Her arms crossed as if consoling herself. "I think my boyfriend gets off on torture. I've heard him pick a guy's eyeballs out with a screwdriver. The screaming stays with you. And he threatened me."

"Why is he letting you leave now?"

She paused, searching for words. "Um..." His question caught her off guard. "It's a cat and mouse game." She hesitated again. "He's giving me a head start so he can track me down and kill me. Or he's waiting to see if I stay loyal. But I was gonna run. I had to try. And I don't want to go to jail either. I want my freedom back. I want my life back."

Felix believed her and felt more sympathetic each passing second. "So, when you get out of jail, you'll be in danger again?"

"I'll probably won't make it out of jail alive. He has eyes and connections everywhere. Everyone will do his bidding to avoid his anger. Hand me those and pay attention." She showed him what he needed to do to close the wound. "So, you see why I have to take a chance."

He winced as the needle laced through her flesh. "How many times has he cut you?"

"This is the first. I'm usually a good girl. I sometimes get it but not as bad as anyone who had crossed him," she said as though the frequent hitting was a natural part of their relationship.

"Whose blood is on the walls?" Sewing her wound up and thinking about how many deaths occurred in the hallway made him nauseated.

"His enemies' blood. It's hell cleaning it up."

He gently finished shutting the gash without vomiting. "Ok, I'm done," he said softly. She stood and carefully trashed the supplies and neatly put everything back in place. Her words haunted his mind. It seemed that all of her roads led to an ugly, premature death.

She stood straight and faced him. "How can I repay you?"

Very slowly, her eyes traveled from his and made their way down his body, pausing and centering in on his crouch. He shook his head and jolted when he realized his eyes were concentrated on her lacy white bra. He blinked and looked elsewhere.

"Trading you in for my promised monetary reward is fine enough." He studied the broken tile of the shower. His mind was focused on what her tits looked like.

She stepped up to him. "I'm serious-"

"I am too." She plotted her next step. The struggle within him was obvious. If he didn't want her, he would have had her in handcuffs by then.

She folded her hands in front of her and looked down at them. "I just want to thank you for taking care of me and listening."

He looked to her then. Her eyes flicked up at him, but they were no longer innocent. His instinct told him that she was trouble. His cock reminded him that she was damn gorgeous.

Hands on his hips, he stared at her and fought the devil on his shoulder. Her bottom lip protruded in a mature pout. Her chin tilted up to him. He started to lose the fight when she started silently begging.

There were too many reasons not to pass up the opportunity to give her a good fucking. He found excuses for his lack of restraint.

She was willing. She was irresistibly sexy. He was overdue coming inside a moist, tight pussy.

She placed her hand just above his abs and slowly moved it up to his chest. A chill went down his spine.

The battered sweetheart in front of him needed a real man in her bed for once. And it would be a onetime deal. She would be in jail, and he would never see her again. No emotional attachment whatsoever.

She brought her hand to his face and lightly stroked it with her fingernails.

It would only take a half an hour. Then, he could get his money.

Only half an hour, he promised himself.

His eyes traveled back to her breasts then back up at her face. The corner of her mouth turned up a little. "Gotcha," she silently said to him.

He grabbed her arms and smashed her body against his. His mouth latched onto hers. There was no time to get to know each other with shy, playful kisses. She released his bottom lip and pulled away. "Come catch me," her teasing eyes said. He gripped her tightly and invaded her mouth with a violent kiss. She nipped him and backed up. The tugging game lasted until she pulled him into the bedroom. He followed her in, hands locked onto her breasts.

He took them away to pull his shirt off. She trailed kisses up and down his muscular chest. He wrapped his arms around her and released her bra within moments. She gasped, impressed by his talent, as he flung her bra aside. He sucked and kissed her neck as he unbuttoned her shorts. With a firm tug, they dropped to her ankles. He stuck his hand in her panties and moaned as his fingers traced the landing strip of hair going down to her saturated cunt. Her fingers dug into his biceps as he attacked her clit.

As soon as he pulled his hand out, they both went to undo his belt. He forced her away to unbuckle it himself. He threw his loose jeans and boxers down and for a second remembered the empty holster attached. A reminder to search for his gun before he left flashed in his mind and was quickly replaced by a glorified image of her exposed pussy. She kicked the panties away. They closed in on each other, touching, exploring. She squeezed his rigid dick and stepped back.

He winced as he bent over and searched the pockets in his jeans, hoping a condom would appear. She rolled her eyes and retrieved one from the nightstand. He took it cautiously. "Will he know one is missing?"

She shrugged. "Doubt it."

"Good." After he had the rubber on, he laid the wrapper on his jeans to take with him. The beaten wall behind her bed was a warning not to forget to take the evidence with him.

Felix advanced on her, kissing her, forcing her back to the bed. She put her hand in front of his face. "I have to be on top." She pointed to her back. "Stitches, remember? And that way I can control the speed. Don't want them popping out and why the hell did you flinch when I said 'control?'"

"I'm used to being the one with power," he said as he looked down on her.

She hesitated at his patronizing tone and had to control the sudden rush of blood to her cheeks. She took a deep breath, smiled, and stroked his face. "For once, let a lady take care of you." With one long sensual kiss, he reluctantly submitted and fell back to the bed. She straddled him and carefully rocked herself onto his dick. Once the friction eased into a smooth glide, she tilted her head back and smiled. She put her hands next to his head and lifted herself slowly. She fell back down, taking as much time as she could. He grimaced as she kept the slow, barely enjoyable rhythm. He bucked his hips up and down. She pushed him to the bed. "Don't!"

"Then stop teasing me," he said, threatening her with his eyes.

"I can do whatever I want," she snapped and continued the slow stroking.

He grabbed her wrists and gave them a firm shake. "Listen, sweetheart, if you don't stop that, I will throw you off and find another way to make you make me come." She struggled and broke free. With a glare, she went slower. He reached his hands up again, but in a sudden moment of strength, she pinned them over his head.