by Em Petrova
Liquid heat pooled low in her belly, and she wiggled closer. Suddenly, he picked her up and spun again, this time, swiping an arm over the mail piled up on the table and scattering it to the four corners of the kitchen as he set her down hard.
Their gazes locked, and she lunged upward for him, arms looped around his neck as he attacked her skirt, hitching it up and somehow getting it around her waist.
“Gawd, you’re sexy as hell.” He bit into her lower lip with a tenderness that was shocking coming from a man as big and lethal as Shaw was. But when he cupped her pussy in one hand as if he owned it, she stopped thinking and let her body take over.
“Take me, Shaw,” she begged, going for his belt. She’d awakened with that buckle digging into her side and a glance in the bathroom mirror showed the red outline of a corner, a sleep dent she didn’t mind one bit.
It felt like a brand.
He closed his lips around her nipple and sucked with long pulls while teasing her clit through the cloth of her panties. She shimmied closer, urging him to really touch her. To finally touch her.
Each stroke over the crotch of her panties had her need amping up higher, growing hotter. She felt like she rode the rim of a volcano and was more than willing to leap into the molten fire as long as Shaw took her there.
When he hooked his finger into her panties and yanked them aside, he swayed back to look at her.
All of her.
“You’re freakin’ soaked.” He pressed her backward onto the table so she had to plant her hands behind her to brace herself, and he ripped her panties off her ankles. As he stared into her eyes, he reached for his belt buckle.
Watching this huge, gorgeous man undress for her had been the stuff of her fantasies, and now it was a reality. Only there was no bed, only a kitchen table, and hell if she cared.
She watched him unbuckle his belt and the gold bar bearing his name flick aside. The top button popped open and he lowered the zipper with an easy grace that belied his size. She suddenly imagined those nimble fingers working over some intricate wires of a bomb or feeding bullets into a weapon.
She slammed the door on those thoughts and focused on Shaw. He reached into his boxers and pulled out a cock so long, thick and impressive that she swallowed a gasp. The shock of seeing how amazing he was right to the mushroomed tip had her panting with lust.
Letting her legs fall apart, she beckoned him to come to her.
His eyelids lowered over his smoldering irises. He stepped up to the side of the table and grasped her by the hips. “I hope to hell you’re on birth control, because this is happening with nothing between us.”
Staring at his thick cock burrowing between her thighs was enough to steal her senses, and he pinched her chin lightly between thumb and forefinger, raising her gaze to his. “Baby doll. Are you safe?”
“Yes.” The lines between caring and not caring blurred.
“Me too,” he ground out as he tugged her across the table to the very edge—to the tip of his cock.
He held her eyes and threaded their fingers before moving another inch. “If this happens, we can’t go back.”
“I don’t care—I want it.” She hooked her hand around his neck and yanked him in.
He filled her in one slick, long, hard, stretching glide.
She cried out, and he slammed his mouth across hers, stealing the sound even as he grunted out one of his own.
God, he was huge, filling her—overfilling her. She looked up at him, noting the strain around his eyes and cutting lines at the corners of his mouth. His eyes were a deeper blue than ever, and her heart—already his—tumbled headlong.
Testing her limits, she rocked her hips upward. He let out a groan and pierced her in his gaze. “Next time I’m eating your pussy until you can’t quit screaming.”
“You’d better live up to your promises, Woody.” His nickname brought a quirk to his lips.
“They don’t call me that for nothin’.”
“Let your hips do the talkin’.” Burning with desire, she pushed up against him, forcing him to move.
As each inch of his cock left her body, she felt a sizzling heat envelop her. Staring into her eyes, he drove back in, stretching her once again.
“Oh God, Shaw. Don’t stop.” She’d never pleaded in her life, but right now, she had no shame. She was mostly naked on his kitchen table while the breakfast she’d cooked cooled in the pans on the stove, and all she wanted was to come around him, squeezing him so hard that it forced him to shake apart in her arms.
With a growl, he captured her mouth, swiping his tongue over hers five times, six, while plunging into her body. His muscles flexed under her hands, and his scents surrounded her. As he sank to her deepest point, she felt the first flutters of her orgasm rushing up.
Her insides clamped down. He bit off a moan and churned his hips faster. The table rocked on its legs, but she wasn’t afraid of it breaking, because if it did she knew Shaw would catch her before she hit the floor and probably continue fucking her at the same time.
He was a superhero, after all.
Her inner walls clenched. Released. Clenched once more. Her small cries grew louder, and soon it was too much. She crested that pinnacle and dove down the other side of the steep slope, her juices squeezing from her pussy as he pumped in and out of her.
“Hell!” He arched his neck, giving her a view of the cords standing out. He tensed in her hold and the first spurt of white-hot cum hit her insides.
The moment turned from desperate to tender in a blink, as Shaw collapsed forward, his forehead pressed to hers and his eyes bright with pleasure as he drained his release into her. His lips found hers, and their tongues tangled in a long, deep kiss that lasted until the final jet left his body and her contractions faded away.
A heartbeat passed. Atalee pushed Shaw back enough to look into his eyes.
“I’m not fucking done with you,” he grated out. Gathering her to his chest, he drew her upright as he dragged his jeans and boxers up enough to walk. Then before she could hop off the table, he yanked her into his arms.
Every step to his bedroom felt like thunder passing through her body. When he nudged open his door and strode into the space, she leaned her head against his chest and listened to his strong heartbeat.
He lay her down on his bed. While he’d slumbered this morning, she’d explored the house and had found this space spare, minimal and masculine. All the things she thought of when she thought of Shaw Woodward.
The only thing she hadn’t seen before was a handgun in its holster laying atop his light wood dresser. It spoke of things she didn’t understand about him but wanted to find out. She hoped in time he would open up to her and let her know why he’d come to the VA hospital seeking help.
After he laid her down, he pushed to a stand again and stripped out of his jeans and boxers, letting them drop to the floor. She reached beneath herself and fought to find the zipper on her skirt, but Shaw’s sure fingers met hers and he got the zipper down and her skirt off as well.
They stared at each other, both naked, both still panting from their shared release just seconds before and the force of wanting more.
His eyes began his lovemaking before he even placed a hand on her. Roaming over her hair to her collarbones and down to her breasts, that pinched in arousal at his gaze. Then he skimmed over the flat of her belly, bearing a little extra weight from stress eating following her marriage breakup. He didn’t seem to mind and gave a hungry growl as he landed on the triangle of dark blonde curls covering her mound.
She hadn’t bothered to lady-scape in ages—who was she supposed to look good down there for? Again, he didn’t mind.
As he grasped her by the knees and parted her thighs, she let out a rasp of need.
“These curls are sopping wet for me.” He dragged a fingertip through the damp curls on her outer lips.
Before she knew his intention, he laid down between her legs, thumbed apart her folds and licked her.
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br /> Licked their combined release without batting an eye.
This man was dirty and hot and all the things she wanted rolled into one. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from Shaw’s long tongue moving up and down her seam and circling her hard clit. The ache in her tripled, and she had no idea where her body ended and his mouth began. She didn’t care, because she was so close to coming again.
He slid one hand under her ass, lifting her to his feasting mouth—and simultaneously drove two fingers into her pussy.
She couldn’t stop her cries this time, each louder than the next. She thrashed under him, bucking to take everything he’d give and demanding more, more, more. His blue eyes burned from between her thighs as he placed a slow lick from bottom to top and then sucked her nubbin. The way he stroked her inner wall with his fingers too…
“Oh my God, Shaw!”
He rumbled against her pussy, almost urging her to peak for him.
It took her five seconds flat. Fisting the sheets, she rocked in rhythmic time to his tongue and fingers, her body humming so loud she couldn’t even hear her own voice calling out his name.
* * * * *
Shaw took his cock in hand, harder than it had been before his release, and fed it inch by inch into Atalee’s tight sheath. She clutched at him with her walls, tightening as he seated himself deep within her.
The flavors of them both were on his tongue, fueling his lust. And the look of pure bliss on her beautiful face made him want to do a victory lap around the house.
He’d given her two orgasms before breakfast and he didn’t know if he could stop at a third. Now that he had her in his bed, he wasn’t letting her out till they both collapsed.
Or he got called out with Ranger Ops. He hoped to hell not, but shit was still brewing with that group, and he felt like it was just the tip of the iceberg.
He withdrew and spent some time teasing his swollen cock head up and down her pussy before angling it and sinking in again. She caught his hand and held it fast, which only bound him to her more. Their link—he’d fucking known it was there from the beginning, goddammit—was strong and alive. He sank in again and lost himself in the sensation of her lips on his, skating over his jaw to his neck and her wet, hot pussy enveloping him.
The time between her long-ago wedding day had now faded in a blink of pleasure as he brought her off again. His own release lay like a coiled snake at the base of his spine, so close. One more plunge would do him in. Then she reached up and pinched his nipples, and his body seized in a bliss that made his jaw clench tight on a roar.
Pumping his hot cum into her body a second time was too much. He had to say it.
“I never stopped wanting you.”
She wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding him tight as he folded on top of her. He lasted a minute there before she grunted at his weight. With a chuckle, he rolled off, drawing her with him into a curled position he suspected was like the one they’d slept in.
When she walked her fingers over his chest, he caught her hand, holding it tight. “You really are good at therapy, baby doll.”
She giggled, burying her face against his shoulder. “At least I have something to show for a hundred grand in student loans.”
They shared a laugh, and the sound of his stomach rumbling with hunger was heard over it. Atalee tipped her head to look up at him. “I’ll heat up that breakfast again.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Two orgasms and a big breakfast. Must be my lucky day.”
Chapter Six
The minute Atalee’s mother set eyes on her, she gave Atalee that look that told her she knew something was going on. It could be mother’s instinct, but Atalee figured it was the fact she couldn’t stop smiling.
“You seem to be in a chipper mood,” her momma commented.
“I am.” She immediately dug into the task of sorting out old handbags. She held up one that was surely from 1983. “Didn’t you ever throw anything away?”
“You know how styles come back in.”
“Not this.” She tossed the teal purse into the donation box and had rummaged through four or five more, when her mother spoke again.
“Did you have some of that fun I told you to have yesterday?”
How to answer this? Her mother didn’t really want to hear details, only that Atalee was happy.
She nodded and left it at that. Together, they sat cross-legged on the floor sorting through box after box of handbags, scarves and shoes. When the final box was pushed aside, her mother flopped back on the floor in her usual melodramatic fashion.
“You are a slave driver, Atalee. I thought I raised you to be much lazier.”
“That was only my teen years.”
Her mother tossed an old slipper that had seen better days at her, and Atalee scooped that up and dumped it into the trash box too.
She stood back to survey the room while her mom rolled over to get up and stand beside her. The bookcases were now empty, awaiting books and baskets. The closet was in order, with clothing hanging in the color order of the rainbow.
“Looking good in here. So was it Shaw?”
Atalee stared at her. “You ask those two unrelated questions as if they’re part of the same conversation. Really, they’re not even in the same zip code.”
Her momma grinned. “Well?”
Atalee had no reason to lie. “Yes, it was Shaw.”
“I knew it by the spark in your eyes that you’d been with that man.”
“How could you possibly know by a look that it was Shaw?” Her tone took on one of teasing, but Atalee was interested to know if she wore her happiness on the outside. The morning with Shaw had been incredible, and her body felt the effects of his strong fingers, lips… and cock.
“You have the same expression this morning as you did when you mentioned him to me before. Now, should we take a break till tomorrow?”
Atalee laughed. “You’re not getting off the hook so easily. We’re close to finishing this whole room, Mom!”
She gave Atalee a flat look. “Are we even standing in the same room, honey? We have another week ahead of us just to put things away.
“All the more reason to start on it now.”
“Honey, you need to get a dog or something to fill your time. This organization fever in you isn’t healthy. I’m going to get us some sweet tea.” Without another word, her momma strode from the room, leaving Atalee shaking her head. If she didn’t know her mother as she did, she’d wonder if their roles had reversed and she’d become the parent.
She grabbed one of the new baskets they’d purchased with small compartments to separate makeup and set it on a stack of boxes. Then she began stashing mascara, lipstick and blusher into their own areas. When her momma returned with sweet tea in hand, Atalee held up the basket.
“See how nice?”
“Yes, it’s lovely. Here’s your tea.” They stood sipping for a moment.
“So are you seeing Shaw this evening too?”
She nearly choked on the swallow of tea she was taking. “You’re relentless, Momma.”
“I know somebody just like that.” She gave her a pointed look.
“All right, I admit to that much, but I refuse to own up to an unhealthy organization fever. No, I’m not seeing Shaw tonight. He had something to do.”
Her mom made a sound in her throat.
“What’s that for?” Atalee asked, fiddling with a strand of hair that wouldn’t stay out of her eyes.
“It means I approve of taking things slowly,” she said.
Atalee set aside her tea and folded her arms over her chest. “You approve of going slowly when you’re the one who pushed me to go have fun. I don’t know how to interpret any of this, Mom.”
“Honey, you just got out of a nasty marriage and a divorce. I want you to have fun, but just go slow and find your footing. There’s no rushing required here.”
Atalee nodded at once. Her momma was right—except she didn’t know the entire story abou
t how she’d spent a lot of time thinking about Shaw and being with him overnight had solidified the idea in her mind that he really was as awesome as her imagination had guessed at.
Her momma didn’t have a clue how deep Atalee felt after being in Shaw’s arms, with his cock moving inside her and his beard burn on her inner thighs.
Grabbing her tea again, she hid her expression by sipping.
“Uh-oh.” Her momma gave her that look.
The one that told Atalee she was found out, and nothing she could do or say would conceal how she felt from the woman who’d birthed her.
“I’m not ready to talk about it, please.”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
She stared at her mother hard. “If you think you can pick at me till I tell you something, you’re wrong. I’m a woman now, not a five-year-old.”
“All right, honey.” She patted her arm and moved to one of the boxes to get to work.
Suddenly, Atalee realized where she’d gotten her ability to read people and get them to open up and talk to her about their problems. She’d received that gene from her mother, and damn if she didn’t want to have her own therapy session right now.
No, she had some sorting of her own to do first—in her mind and heart. Momma’s right—take things slow.
* * * * *
“Can I get another beer?” Nash said to the waitress. He looked to Shaw. “You?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
The waitress smiled at both of them before moving away from their table. Neither watched her leave.
“Okay, what the hell’s up with you, man?” Nash cocked his brow.
Shaw looked at him in surprise. “Whattaya mean?”
“I mean”—he spread his hands on the tabletop, showing no less than two cuts and a bite mark resulting from their last mission— “you don’t want a second beer and you’re not eyeing up pretty waitresses after they’ve practically jumped into your lap.”
Shaw shook his head. “Not interested in the beer or the woman.”
“And that’s because…?”