Raining kisses along her collarbone, then up the side of her neck, he moved his finger deeper to stroke her inside. “Is this where you want me, Callie?”
“Y-yes.”
“Do you want me there now?”
“Hunter…please—”
“Just a little bit more, darlin’,” he said as his relentless fingers continued to stroke her inner core.
“I can’t…stand anymore.”
When he moved his hand away, he immediately nudged her thighs farther apart with his knee and eased himself into position. He covered her lips with his, and Callie closed her eyes at the exquisite feel of his blunt tip against her a moment before she felt him slowly, surely slip inside.
“Look at me, Callie.”
When she opened her eyes, his heated gaze held hers as he set an easy pace, and all too soon she felt her body straining for sweet liberation from the tension he’d created within her. He must have noticed her tightening around him because he steadily increased his thrusts until the coil of need within her snapped and she was cast into the realm of intense pleasure. She heard him call her name at the same time his big body stiffened, then quivered inside of her as he found his own release.
Wrapping her arms around Hunter’s broad back, she held him close as her body pulsed with sweet satisfaction. When their bodies began to cool, she bit her lower lip to keep from crying. She’d done the unthinkable. She’d fought against it from the moment they’d met, but there was no sense denying it any longer.
She’d fallen in love with Hunter O’Banyon.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, when Hunter and Callie walked into the dispatch room, Mary Lou pointed to a slip of paper on her desk. “Hunter, you have a message from someone by the last name of Barringer.” She shook her head disapprovingly. “He wouldn’t tell me what the nature of his business was. But he said it was important that you call him as soon as possible.” She pointed to a huge box over in the corner. “And the new flight suits you ordered were delivered yesterday afternoon.”
“Good,” Callie said, walking over to gaze into the box. “I can barely zip the one I have now.”
Recognizing the name of the private investigator he’d hired, Hunter nodded. “While I return his phone call, why don’t you and Callie sort through the new flight suits and match them against the list of everyone’s sizes.” He walked over to kiss Callie’s cheek. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to help.”
Her cheeks colored a deep rose and he didn’t think he’d ever seen her look prettier. “Mary Lou and I can handle this. Go make your phone call.”
“I can sure tell the two of you are newlyweds,” Mary Lou said, laughing. “If you can’t be away from her long enough to make a phone call, you’ve got it bad.”
Hunter had no idea why, but he couldn’t seem to stop smiling as he picked up the slip of paper with Barringer’s number on it and walked down the hall toward his office. Maybe it was because the investigator was reporting back so quickly. But he had a feeling that it had more to do with the fact that he’d just spent the most incredible night of his life with his amazing wife.
Callie was the most responsive, sensual woman he’d ever met, and he couldn’t wait for the end of the day when their shift ended and they could get back to her place. Unless they were called out for a standby run, they had four days to resume their honeymoon and he had every intention of making the most of their time off. His body tightened at the thought and he cursed the fact that they had eight hours before they were off duty.
When he closed the office door behind him, he took several deep breaths to calm his runaway libido, then walked over to the desk and dialed Barringer’s number. He’d no sooner given his name to the man’s secretary than Joe Barringer came on the line.
“I’ve discovered several things about Culbertson that I think you’ll find very interesting,” he said without preamble.
“You’ve got my attention,” Hunter said, sinking into the desk chair.
“Craig Culbertson is broke. He’s gambled away the trust fund his grandfather left him and it appears that he’s started siphoning money out of the one set aside for his son.”
“But aren’t his parents in control of that money?” Hunter asked. He could’ve sworn that Callie told him the Culbertsons had adopted Craig’s son and raised the boy as their own.
“They were,” Barringer said. “But there was a stipulation in his grandfather’s will that when Craig reached the age of thirty, he gained control of that fund, as well.”
“Anything else?” Hunter asked, wondering how he could use the information to help Callie. So far, he hadn’t heard anything worthwhile.
“Yes. It appears that provisions have been made for future children.”
Hunter sat up straight in his chair. He had a feeling he was about to learn the motive behind Culbertson’s visit to Devil’s Fork. “What kind of provisions?”
“Just a second.” It sounded as if Barringer was shuffling papers a moment before he added, “Any future offspring of Craig Culbertson will have a million-dollar trust fund set up and—”
“Let me guess,” Hunter said. “Culbertson is the administrator.”
“You got it.” The disgust in Joe Barringer’s voice was evident. “His grandfather must have expected Culbertson to sow more wild oats. Instead of leaving him the lion’s share of his estate, the old man stipulated that the majority of his money would be held in trust for future heirs.” He paused as if consulting his notes. “And Culbertson has to have custody of each child before a trust will be set up in his or her name.”
“That explains a lot,” Hunter said, thinking aloud.
“Something else you might find interesting—Culbertson has some pretty shady characters breathing down his neck for past gambling debts. I’m not sure he can wait for Ms. Marshall to give birth. He needs the money now,” Barringer finished.
“What about his parents? Can’t he go to them for the money?” To Hunter, that would be the obvious choice if the man was in that kind of trouble.
“Harry and Alice Culbertson have pretty much washed their hands of their son,” Barringer said. “They’ve bailed him out several times, and from what I can gather, they put their foot down the last time and told him that was it. They wouldn’t pay off any more gambling debts.”