Treat Her Right (2018 Reissue)

by Lori Foster

  When Wynn didn’t answer, he leaned closer to try to see her face, now afraid that he’d hurt her.

  She spoke barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know it was you.”

  Zack grunted. So she’d thought she was defending herself? He was far from appeased. If she hadn’t fallen asleep outside, it wouldn’t have been an issue.

  “Do you realize,” she continued, “that I’m letting you do this?”

  Disbelieving her gall, Zack reared back. “Letting me?”

  Her head moved in a slight nod. “I could have bitten your face just seconds ago. Even your jugular.”

  “Of all the—”

  “Even now,” she taunted, “if I wasn’t afraid of hurting you, I could toss you.”

  In that instant Zack became aware of her long lean body beneath him, the cushion of her plump breasts, the giving dip of her wide pelvis, the strong, sleek thighs… He had hold of her wrists—not delicate wrists, but large-boned for a woman—and he lifted them above her head, keeping her in a submissive position.

  So he could control her.

  Oh yeah, his body liked that a lot. Too damn much. He had no doubt she’d already noticed his hard-on, being as it was pressed rigidly into her soft abdomen. Well too bad. Zack leaned closer again so he could see her face. He looked at her lush mouth, open now as she struggled for breath, and then to her incredible hazel eyes. Damn she had sexy eyes. In nothing more than scant moonlight, they were the eyes of a wolf, and they stirred him. “Try it,” he offered, and waited with his own breath held.

  “Oh, no.” She stared at his mouth, and he felt her attention like a hot lick. “I don’t want to hurt you—now that I know it’s you.”

  Without meaning to, Zack pressed into her. Only the thin cotton of her nightshirt and his slacks separated them from entry. He closed his eyes, tipped his head back and moved against her rhythmically.

  The alignment of their bodies was perfect, chest to breasts, groin to groin. He could kiss her and ride her at the same time, and never miss a single deep stroke. That realization made his muscles ripple.

  Her nipples had puckered and he felt them rasping against his bare chest. She shifted her thighs, maybe trying to accommodate him, but he refused to take any chances. Her arms hung limp in his grip, in no way fighting his hold. Still he secured her, stretching her out a bit more, aware of her strength, and her yielding.

  He felt on fire. “Wynn…”

  She lifted her head, as brazen as ever, and that was all it took. Zack had never been a man controlled by lust, never been a man to experience all that much lust.

  But this…what else could it be called? Mere lust didn’t seem adequate for the bombardment of sensations on his senses. He felt her everywhere, on his body, in his lungs, in his head and his heart.

  She licked his mouth, making a sound of excitement and acceptance and hunger. He caught her tongue and drew it deep, then gave her his own. Their heavy breathing broke the quiet of the night, mingling with the faint sounds of crickets and rustling leaves. He switched both her wrists into one of his and brought his hand down to wedge between their bodies, cuddling her breast.

  In reaction to his touch, her hips lifted so strongly she supported his weight off the ground for a suspended moment of time. It took one rough thrust for Zack to crush her down again.

  He kissed his way to her throat and heard her ragged whisper. “Zack… Let me go.”

  “No.” He thumbed her nipple, stroking, teasing.

  A raw groan and a burst of movement later, Wynn had him on his back again. The woman was forever taking him by surprise. Zack almost wanted to laugh.

  Until her thighs straddled his and she became the aggressor. Her hands opened wide over his bare chest, she stroked him and moaned with the pleasure of it. She nuzzled at his throat, then bit before licking and sucking and making him crazed.

  The open vee of her thighs cradled his erection, and made him strain for more. He caught her behind in his hands, relishing the resilient feel of her, her softness in contrast with her feminine strength. He explored her, sliding his fingers over the silken material of her panties, pressing inward to touch her from behind. He found her panties damp, her body incredibly hot.

  Cradling her hips, Zack urged her into a rough, slow roll that simulated sex and brought him dangerously close to the edge.

  He was ready to take her, more than ready to get the ridiculous man’s shirt off her body and touch her everywhere, kiss her everywhere.

  Only he didn’t have protection with him. And…

  Reality dropped on his head like a ton of bricks. He actually groaned aloud with his disappointment, with the awareness of his responsibilities.

  They were acquaintances of only a day, and not even a full day at that.

  They were outdoors, in the open, and if he’d seen her through his bedroom window, his daughter could see them both if she should wake up and look out. Granted, that wasn’t likely to happen, not the way Dani slept, but he didn’t take chances with his daughter, not ever.

  They were on the wet ground, mindlessly entwined and it was so unlike him, so unlike what he wanted for himself as a responsible father and server of the community, he felt appalled and embarrassed and rightfully angry.

  At Wynn.

  He caught her wrists again and held her hands still to enable him to gain control of himself. “Wynn.”

  His tone of voice had no effect on her. She wiggled free and attacked his mouth, kissing him so thoroughly he almost forgot his resolve. He turned his head aside. “No.”

  “Yes,” she insisted. She grabbed his ears and held him still. Then, “God, you’re incredible. So hard and sexy and sweet.”

  Sweet? Zack rolled to the side, literally dumping her off him, but the second she was flat, he stood. His chest worked like a bellows and his brain cramped at the effort it took to resist her. When he turned to look at her, his damn knees almost gave out. Her shirt had hiked up and he could see her panties, could even see her navel.

  He stared—until she held out her arms to him and the sight of her offering herself, wanting him, looked so good, so right, he couldn’t stand it.

  Jerking around, Zack said, “Get up.”

  He didn’t watch to see if she did as he asked. He couldn’t. Finally he heard a slight creak and turned to see her perched sideways on the hammock, her feet on the ground, her hands beside her hips, her gaze direct and waiting and unapologetic.

  Zack drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

  After a heavy beat of silence, she said, “Yeah, me too.” She smirked and shook her head.

  That drew him up. “Sorry for what?”

  Wynn pushed to her feet and faced him eye to eye. “At the moment, I’m pretty sorry for everything.” She turned away. “Good night, Zack.”

  He was so stunned by the dim sight of her wet back, the cotton shirt clinging to her behind and upper thighs, that he almost let her get away. He shook himself. “Wait a minute!”

  “No point in waiting. Believe me, I understand.”

  Zack caught her arm and whirled her around. In the next instant she was on tiptoes and huffing in his face.

  “Don’t think for a single second that you bested me, buddy!” She poked him in the chest, making him stagger back a step. “The second I realized it was you, I went half-go. Besides that, you caught me asleep and sluggish. Now I’m wide awake and you’re done kissing and you’re acting all nasty and hateful again, so do not try manhandling me.”

  Zack had at least a dozen questions for her, but what came out of his mouth was, “You actually think you could best me in strength?” He was so incredulous he barely knew what he said.

  Wynn snorted. “I’ve trained all my life. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

  And she thought…what? That he was a marshmallow? She’d called him sweet. What the hell had she meant by that? Through his teeth, Zack heard himself say, “No way, lady. Not on your best day.” Then he wanted to smack his own head for challenging a
woman! What was he thinking?

  With a look of utter disdain, she said, “You keep living that dream if it makes you happy, big boy.” And again she turned to walk away.

  “Wynn.” Even to his own ears, her name sounded like a warning. But then it had been strained through his clenched teeth.

  Arms spread, she whipped around to face him and demanded, “What?”

  He was a reasonable sort, Zack reminded himself. He was logical and calm and a pacifist. He absolutely, under no circumstances, wrestled with women, not even big bold pushy ones.

  One slow deep breath helped a little. The second breath pushed the red haze out of his vision so he could see her clearly, or as clearly as the night-dark sky allowed. “Why,” he asked, sounding more like a sane man, “were you sleeping on the hammock?”

  She looked at the hammock as if to verify which one he meant. Then she shrugged. “I’d worked all day, I was hot and sweaty and after my shower I just wanted to rest my tired bones and get some fresh air. Only I nodded off. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  Zack clasped his hands behind his back to keep from reaching for her. Brows raised in inquiry, he said, “Do you, by any chance, know how risky that can be for a woman?”

  “You mean with crazy neighbors lurking about ready to throw me on the ground and kiss me silly and paw me until I’m all excited and ready and then stop with no warning?” She gave him a smug, distinctly mean smile. “Yeah, I do now.”

  “I meant,” he said, inching toward her, but watching her closely at the same time, “because of strangers who would do things to you without a second’s hesitation. Men who would rape or murder or…”

  “Rape and murder about covers it. No reason to go overboard.”

  “This is not a joke, damn it!”

  She crossed her arms under her breasts and cocked one hip. It shouldn’t have been a seductive pose, but damn, it made him sweat.

  “Did I just say it was an accident, that I didn’t mean to fall asleep? I thought I did, but given your attitude, I can’t be sure.”

  Tension mounting, Zack flexed his shoulders and rolled his head on his neck. “It was irresponsible.”

  “Well, thank you, Mother, for your concern.”

  “Wynn, I know you’re excited about your new house—”

  “And my new neighbor? My new neighbor who likes to tease and lead women on, then pull away and act as if his finer sensibilities have been lacerated by my coarse and carnal behavior?”

  Zack was again caught between wanting to shout with anger, and the urge to laugh. From the moment he’d met her, Wynn Lane had been too outspoken and honest for her, or his, own good. He rubbed his neck and concentrated on not smiling. “I didn’t mean to tease.”

  “Oh? You call what you did—given the fact you pulled up short—fulfillment?” She shook her head. “You poor, poor man. You’re missing the best part.”

  “Look, Wynn, it was a mistake for us to do—” He gestured at the ground. “—this. I don’t know about you, but I’m not in the habit of indulging in one-night flings.”

  She didn’t confirm or deny what her habits were, which only made him edgier. Little by little his neck and shoulder muscles tightened into a painful cramp. He’d strained something at work the night before, and arguing with Wynn only exasperated things.

  Her eyes narrowed and she strode toward him. “What’s the matter with you? Did I hurt you?”

  His hand fell away from his neck. “Of course not.”

  “Ha! You’re in pain, I can tell.”

  He started to say she was the pain, but held it in. It was past time he listened to himself. They were neighbors, no refuting that fact. They needed to get along in some civil but distant and detached way.

  With that decision made, he waited until she stopped directly in front of him, then explained, “I dealt with two pretty nasty emergencies last night. The first was a case of domestic violence.” His tone sounded raw even to his own ears, but the emotional devastation of the night still lingered. “I took a woman in with two broken ribs and multiple contusions. The bastard who’d worked her over had gone to a bar. Luckily the cops caught up to him there.”

  Zack had to be grateful that the man had been gone when he got there. He wasn’t at all certain he could have contained himself otherwise.

  Wynn, evidently sensing his turbulent emotions, reached out and smoothed her hand over his arm. It was a soothing touch, and it helped him to recall himself.

  He shook off his lingering anger and reminded himself that the woman had pressed charges. That wasn’t always the case, but luckily this particular woman had had enough. He’d left her in the hands of the social services.

  “Then there was a car wreck. We had to cut the door away to get to the woman inside. She was in shock, covered in blood from a head wound, and getting her out wasn’t easy, especially since she wasn’t exactly a small woman.”

  “She was big like me?”

  Zack’s temper jumped a notch. “I could handle you easily without straining a thing.”

  She smirked.

  “No, this woman was obese.” Wynn remained quiet and waiting so he continued. “The reach was awkward, and I strained something in my neck and shoulders when I lifted her out.”

  “Hmmm. Sounds like you strained a trap. That happens a lot in clumsy lifts. Turn around.”

  He stalled. “What?”

  “Trapezius muscle,” she explained.

  And Zack said, “I know what it is. I just didn’t…”

  Grabbing his upper arm, she forcibly turned him—something he allowed—and then began pressing her fingers into his neck, his shoulders, his spine. Zack groaned. Her touch had an electrifying effect that both soothed and excited.

  “Right there?” she asked, her thumbs now working some hidden muscle that reacted by going limp.

  “Yeah.” And then, “You’re good at this.”

  “I’m good at a lot of things.”

  His eyes shot open.

  “Have you been using any moist heat?”

  God, everything she said sounded sexual to his beleaguered brain. Moist. Heat. He was such a goner. “No,” he croaked. “I haven’t had a chance.”

  “Bull. You’re a paramedic, you know better than to ignore injuries. If need be, you make time. Maybe instead of hanging out with your friends you should have soaked in your hot tub.”

  His brain took a leap from her suggestion, to a vivid fantasy of them both in the hot tub, steam rising and flesh wet… “I will later.”

  “When is later?”

  Her persistence annoyed him. “Maybe after work tomorrow.”

  Her hands continued to massage and work his aching muscles. He felt like butter—like aroused butter.

  “What hours do you work?”

  That, at least, was a safe enough topic. “We’re all on a rotating schedule. Ten hour days, four days a week. My hours are usually eight to six. The three days off vary and are almost never grouped together, but at least that way everyone gets a weekend now and then. And there’s always overtime, so my hours end up fifty or over more often than not.”

  Leaning around to see his face, Wynn asked, “Who watches Dani while you work?”

  “There’s a lady two blocks down, Eloise. She’s a real sweetheart, in her early seventies, on a fixed income. Dani adores her, and vice versa. Dani thinks of it as her second home.”

  “Any friends her own age?”

  He shrugged. “She goes to preschool two days a week, but Dani tells me most of the kids there are ‘babies.’”

  Wynn chuckled. “Yeah, I can see her thinking that. She’s used to adult company, isn’t she?”

  “Too much so. I thought the preschool would help, and she does enjoy it. One of her classmates lives in the neighborhood and she’s had Dani over for birthday parties and special outings and things like that.”

  “Mmm. Sounds like fun for her.” Hands splayed wide, Wynn worked her way down Zack’s back, over his lats, then his obli
ques. It was all he could do to remain standing.

  Zack didn’t mean to, but he felt so relaxed, so boneless from her massage, he heard himself confiding before he could censor himself. “She has a hard time fitting in with other girls.”

  “Oh?”

  Zack closed his eyes, but now he had no choice except to explain. “She’s…not into the same things as other little girls her age. The whole idea of playing dress-up revolts her, and she’s outraged by the idea of frilly dresses and tights.” He grinned, remembering the last time Dani had worn a dress. It had been for Mick and Del’s wedding, and she’d only agreed because Del had helped her pick it out, and Del wasn’t into lace and frills, either.

  “I was the same when I was a little girl,” Wynn said.

  Zack teased, “You mean you were little once?”

  Her thumbs pressed deep enough to make him jerk in pain. “Hey, ouch! All right, I was just teasing.”

  “I wasn’t born an oaf, you know.”

  For the briefest moment Zack wondered if he’d hurt her feelings, then decided the massage must have softened his brain as well as his muscles. Wynn wasn’t the type of woman who indulged fragile feelings.

  On the tail of that realization came another, more startling one. Good God, was there a chance his daughter would grow up to be like Wynn? Wrestling in her yard, argumentative and loud and far too bold? The very idea made him shudder. He had to find a wife, a nice delicate feminine wife who adored Dani and could, with patience and a calm quiet demeanor, guide her into being a young lady.

  “If you work fifty hours,” Wynn said, breaking into his thoughts, “I imagine some of those nights it’s pretty late when you get home.”

  “True.”

  “Do you bring Dani home?”

  “Of course.” He started to look at her, but she stilled him by working a particularly achy knot in his right deltoid. Damn, but she had wonderful fingers. “I was blessed with a real slughead for a daughter,” he told her around a heartfelt groan. “It takes a lot to wake her before she’s ready to wake. I just bundle her up and bring her home and tuck her into her own bed.”