by Lora Leigh
Her hands braced against the wall and the shower door. She couldn’t touch him. If she touched him, she would beg, plead for him.
“Reno . . .” Her thin wail filled the shower stall as his tongue swiped through the slit, circled her clit, then disappeared.
Her eyes drifted open as she stared down at him, her legs weakening at the erotic sight of him kneeling before her, his tongue moving in again, circling her clit as he stared up at her.
Not fair. Oh God. She couldn’t stand it.
Her hands moved involuntarily, her fingers digging into his scalp as she parted her legs further, pressing him closer.
“More . . . ,” she panted. “Lick me more.”
He hummed in approval, his tongue dancing in the slick cream that began to coat her as her hips tilted further.
“Oh yes,” she moaned. “Like that, Reno. Lick me all over.”
She was trembling, watching him, feeling his tongue circle her clit, lick along the narrow valley, circling the sensitive opening of her vagina, teasing her with the threat of a sensual thrust into the suddenly hungry depths. His hands were at her buttocks, spreading them open, sending chills racing up her back at the flare of heat that invaded the tiny entrance there. The sensations were building, pulling at her, ripping away the veil of distance she tried to maintain as he teased her with his tongue.
“Reno, do it,” she whispered desperately as his fingers slid lower, parting the folds of her pussy as his tongue teased and tempted. “Please. Please do it.”
“What, baby?” he whispered wickedly. “Tell me. Whatever you want, I’ll give you.”
Her eyes fluttered; her knees weakened. His tongue stroked, taunted, yet never gave her what she knew would throw her over the edge. She wanted it inside her. She wanted to feel his tongue shoving hard inside the snug depths of her pussy as she watched him. Watched him eating her like he loved it, lived for it.
“Do it,” she cried out fiercely. “Dammit, Reno, stop teasing me. Please.”
He flickered over the opening, licking at the juices falling from her as she shuddered at the pleasure. So much pleasure.
“Fuck me with it.” She thrust her hips closer, her hands pressing against his head, her gasping moans turning to a shattered scream when he did as she begged. His tongue plunged deep, filling her, pumping inside her as her orgasm took her by surprise, hurtling her into a rapture she could only give herself to.
“Son of a bitch!” He was on his feet, lifting her, bracing her against the wall a second before he wrapped her legs around his hips and plunged deep inside her.
Shocking. Burning. He filled her to overflowing and then made her take more. Delicate tissue parted, clenched, hugging him heatedly as he began to move, sending her flying again, ripping away, layer by layer, the shields around her soul.
“Ah God, Raven baby . . . so tight . . . so hot . . . hold me, baby. Hold me and mean it.”
She couldn’t do anything less. She held on to him as though her life, her very heart depended on it. And in a way, she knew it did. He was filling her soul, the one thing she had sworn she would never allow to happen, was happening.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, tightening, her arms around his neck locking in place, her lips searching blindly for his as she convulsed again, jerking in his grip, trying to drive him deeper, harder, as the world rocked around her in a release that seemed never ending.
Reno pumped inside her, hard and fast before his groan filled her senses and the heat of his release filled the hungry depths of her pussy. She milked him, moaning in exhaustion as the tremors of release shuddered through her again, leaving her limp, ragged in his hold as his arms tightened around her.
Moments later, she was only distantly aware of him pulling free of her, cleaning her again, then himself, before he shut the water off and dried them with quick, economical movements.
A smile curved her lips though, as he picked her up in his arms and carried her to her bed. Curling against his chest, his hands buried in her hair as his arms surrounded her, sleep overtook her. Warm, sheltered, free of the teasingly erotic dreams that used to haunt her, she slept in her warrior’s arms.
Reno stared into the darkness of the bedroom, Raven’s warmth tucked close to his heart as he sheltered her against his chest. She slept naturally, easily. Not that he expected the battle to be over by any means.
A sleepy smile quirked his lips. He’d better rest tonight, because he had a feeling that come morning, she would be just as prickly as ever. Not that he intended to let it do her any good. He was a part of her, whether she wanted to admit it or not. Just as she was a part of him.
And being a part of Raven was like being reborn. Never had he known anything as sweet, as hot, as soul-fulfilling as being her lover.
He had warned her, the night Morganna had interrupted them, that her days were numbered. He wasn’t waiting any longer to claim what he had known for years was his.
She shifted against his side, a murmur of pleasure leaving her throat as his hands rubbed lightly down her back, and she settled against him once again.
“I love you, Raven.” He whispered the words he knew she didn’t want to hear. Gave them to her while she slept, knowing that, for now, it was the only way she would accept it.
“Reno . . .” His name as it left her lips filled him with pleasure. Even sleeping, she knew where she belonged.
Chapter Four
She had slept with Reno Chavez.
She hadn’t just slept with him, she had been taken by him. Held by him. Fucked senseless, to be honest, she snapped silently.
Raven leaned on the kitchen counter the next morning, her head cradled in her arms as she waited for the coffee to finish, for the rich fragrance teasing her senses to become an elixir that would hopefully clear her head. Bring her sanity back. It would be really nice if it could turn back time.
She moaned pitifully.
She couldn’t even claim she’d been drunk; she hadn’t so much as touched a beer while at Morganna’s. She had been stone-cold sober until Reno kissed her. Until his hands stroked her body, bringing her nerve endings to life and a ravenous hunger clawing at her womb.
She pressed her thighs together at the memory, hating the feel of her loose shorts rasping against her flesh. She wanted Reno’s hands. Even the loose shirt was uncomfortable on her sensitive body. She could strip it off. She could undress, go to him. . . . She gritted her teeth in mental refusal.
She was not going to think about it. She was not going to relive each and every slow slide of his cock inside her vagina, stroking the pulsing nerves there, stretching her, filling her, making her burn. . . .
Her fists clenched as she rolled her forehead against her arm.
She couldn’t have made a bigger mistake if she had actually put effort into coming up with one. Sleeping with Reno was tantamount to jumping from a plane without a parachute. It wasn’t just risky; it was suicide to her emotional well-being.
He had been hard-headed as a boy, bossy as a young man, and now he was so firmly dominant, it was enough to make her teeth clench. What happened to the nice young man who put Band-Aids on her knees and bought her ice pops from the corner store? Why did he have to become the big tough SEAL who insisted on a career that risked his life every time he went to work?
“Dumb. Dumb. Dumb,” she muttered as she lifted her head, staring at the slow stream of black liquid that ran into the carafe.
“When are you going to break down and buy a real coffee-maker?”
She stiffened at Reno’s amused voice, refusing to turn and face him, to stare at that incredibly sexy body. The same one that had risen over her last night, pushing between her thighs as he filled her with the hard, broad flesh of his cock. She shivered at the memory.
“This one works,” she mumbled. And it had been her mother’s before she died five years before.
There was no way she was going to consider facing the day without coffee. She needed it. It was essential. Otherwise, sh
e was going to melt into a puddle of aroused goo before she ever managed to push Reno out the door.
He grunted noncommittally behind her.
“We’ll get a coffee grinder later and some fresh beans. I’ll make you some real coffee.”
Turning her head slowly from the shelter of her arms, she stared back at him. Over six feet of lean, smooth, hard muscle. Damn him. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. His chest, with its smattering of hair, was displayed in all its dark glory, muscles shifting, tempting, encouraging. . . .
“Don’t you have a bed to buy or something?” She straightened quickly, jerked a cup from the hook on the wall and prayed the dark brew would hurry. She had to clear her head, or she was never going to make it through the day.
“Are you trying to run me off, Raven?” She could hear the grin in his voice, see it when she glanced back at him.
“Yes,” she snapped desperately. “I am. I can’t deal with you this morning. Go torture Morganna.”
Like she thought for a minute that he was going to do that. She should have known better, she told herself frantically. He had warned her that last time, when he woke her with a kiss, looming over her like a tide of passion, that her days were numbered. She had tried to convince herself he wasn’t serious. She should have known better.
“I don’t think so, baby. Do you think I’m going to let you run me off this soon?”
Uh-oh.
She blinked back at him as his expression hardened, his gray eyes turning stormy. She knew that look, and it did not bode well for getting rid of him.
“How soon, then?” She slammed the cup to the counter and jerked the pot from under the small stream inching into it to rapidly fill the cup.
She brought the cup to her lips and sipped too quickly. The hot liquid burned her tongue, but it did nothing to erase the remembered feel of his touch.
“Damn, Clint was right, you’re a grouch in the morning,” he stated as he moved to the pot himself, causing her to back away quickly. If he touched her, she was a goner.
“I’m always a grouch.” She frowned as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “And that’s my coffee.”
He lifted his brow mockingly. “I know a cure for your grouchiness.”
The wicked smile playing about his mouth had her womb convulsing in arousal. Damn him. Damn him. She could feel her body preparing for him, aching for him. Even more frightening was the fact that it felt right. His presence in her kitchen wasn’t as upsetting as it should have been. It felt comfortable, impossibly natural. She hated having people around her first thing in the morning, but Reno was different. Which meant he had to go.
“As soon as I finish my coffee, I’m throwing you out.” There was just no other answer.
She moved to the table, cradling the cup lovingly as she inhaled the scent. Sanity resided there surely.
“You’ll have to grow quite a bit first, darlin’.” He wasn’t amused; he wasn’t smiling. He was staring at her from determined, intense eyes.
“And don’t call me darlin’.”
He leaned against the counter, his bare ankles crossing as she glanced at his feet. Dammit, even his toes looked sexy.
She sipped the coffee, remaining silent. There had to be a way to get him out of her apartment, short of calling the police. And what was she supposed to tell the police? Excuse me, Officer, but I let him fuck me last night, so of course he thinks he has rights now.
She rolled her eyes at the thought. Of course he thought he did. She knew Reno. There wasn’t a chance in hell he had even considered a one-night stand. He was her brother’s best friend. Her best friend’s brother. He was playing in earnest.
Panic flared at the thought of that. Oh hell. She looked up at him wildly, taking in the small grin quirking his lips and the way he watched her. As if she were his.
“It was just sex.”
He laughed. Asshole. He sipped his coffee and grimaced.
“I’m definitely going to have to show you the fine art of preparing coffee,” he drawled. “This stuff isn’t going to help your attitude at all, Raven.”
“My attitude is not the problem. You are,” she informed him through gritted teeth.
“I invited you over to sleep. Not come in and take over,” she said, feeling desperate as she got up from the table. “You weren’t supposed to . . . to—” Her face flamed. “—do what you did.”
“What did I do?” His eyes widened, almost innocently. She could see the knowledge glowing there, even as the sweatpants he wore began to tent in the front from his erection.
She swallowed tightly at the sight of it. Her mouth was watering. Oh God, why was her mouth watering? Why were images of going to her knees and pulling the waistband clear of that thick flesh suddenly torturing her? And her mouth was watering. Weak, Raven, she accused herself firmly. You are so weak.
“That,” she said, her hand waving toward the erection. “That’s what you did last night. You seduced me.”
“Seduced you?” He was clearly laughing now as he glanced down at the tented material. “With my cock? That was seduction? Baby, all I did was kiss you. You kissed back.”
“Well that was enough,” she sniffed. “Now it’s time for you to get dressed and leave.”
He set his cup down on the counter, his eyes narrowing, and trepidation skated down her spine. She knew Reno. Knew his looks, his moods, and his stubbornness. She knew when he was about to do something he knew was going to piss her off. And he had that look now.
“Come here.” His voice was deep and rich like black velvet.
“What?” she said, staring at him warily.
“I said, come here,” he growled. Raven shivered in reaction. Her pussy was gushing at the sound of his voice. She was so easy.
“No.” She crossed her arms over her breasts, hoping to hide the telltale rise of her nipples. Damn they ached for his touch, his mouth, his tongue flickering over them.
His brow arched.
“You know,” he said conversationally. “I’m dying to watch the bare flesh of that pretty little ass turn red. Get over here, Raven, or I’m going to see just how fast my hand can make it blush.”
Reno watched as Raven’s eyes flared, the blue darkening, filling with arousal and heat as she stared at him with wild-eyed panic. He wanted to chuckle, but he had a feeling it would push her further into retreat. As though he was going to allow that.
He mentally shook his head, watching her trying to rebuild her defenses to keep him out.
Poor Raven. It didn’t matter.
Nothing was going to diminish the heat and the hunger between them.
“You did not just threaten to spank me,” she suddenly snapped, blinking in amazement as she watched him.
“Yes, I did,” he said refuting her statement blandly. “Now come here.” He pointed his finger directly in front of his feet.
Anger sizzled in the air. Pure feminine fury heated the room as her arms dropped slowly to her sides and her cheeks flushed with emotion.
“How dare you order me around!” She was seconds from stamping her foot. Damn, she made him hot when she flamed like that. “This is my house, Reno,” she said, pointing at her chest, her own eyes narrowing. “My kitchen, my house, and you’re leaving.”
Reno studied her before quickly coming to a decision. She was trembling with anger . . . and panic. He didn’t want to push so hard and fast that he lost her. So he’d leave, but he wouldn’t be gone for long. He’d give her a bit of time to miss him, but he would be back. Besides there wasn’t a chance he could stay away long, not after having had her, feeling the heat of her pussy gripping his cock, the sweet tight muscles rippling around him as she came, holding her satisfied body next to his afterward.
He straightened, watching her closely. She stiffened, her foot moving back as though to retreat before she quickly checked the motion.
“Raven, come here,” he said more gently.
If possible, her eyes widened even more in panic at his softer tone.<
br />
He was very well aware of the risk he was taking. Convincing Raven to open her heart was fraught with danger. Not the physical kind, but the emotional kind. She had seen the result of her mother’s life with her Navy SEAL father. The long absences, the fights when he returned home, her mother’s inability to accept the danger her father faced and her father’s refusal to deal with the situation in any a way except to take more missions, to stay away longer, until finally he hadn’t returned. He had been killed while on a mission, leaving her mother to deal with her guilt, and Raven to face the world without a father.
Her lips tightened defiantly before she stalked over to him.
“Now what?” she snarled up at him.
“This.”
He lowered his head. He didn’t touch her except with his lips. He gripped the counter behind him with both hands, itching to grip her instead. No force, no demand, nothing but the arousal whipping between them, making him crazy, making her hot enough to sear.
Her lips opened on a strangled gasp, her hands reaching for his waist, her fingers curling against his flesh as his tongue surged deep inside. Slanting his head, he pressed closer, groaning when his erection cushioned against her stomach as she rubbed against him, a whimper of lust escaping her throat as he nipped at her lips, stroked them with his tongue, then delved inside for the sweet nectar of her passion.
When she was soft, pliant, molded to his body as her tongue tangled with his, he slowly drew back.
“Reno . . .”
Her soft gasp of protest had him gritting his teeth as he fought every instinct inside him screaming to take her to the floor, to convince her, to force her to admit what she was so obviously denying.
Instead, he drew in a hard breath and stepped away from the temptation of her sweet body. God, she had no idea how hard it was to step away from her, to leave her as aching as he ached for her. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t risk losing her. If he carried through now, took her to her bed as he wanted to so desperately, then it would weaken not just his resolve, but the inroads he had made into making her realize what they could be to each other.