Justice for Miranda

by Reina Torres

  While she’d never been an empath in any way shape or form, she had spent a lot of her time studying Trace Carson.

  When Trace didn’t argue, Conor sat down and reached for Miranda’s knee to give her a squeeze but stopped when Trace moved to counter him.

  Sitting back on the coffee table he looked at both of them.

  “I spoke to the boss while you were on the way over here, Trace. He looked it up and you have… a ton of vacation saved. So much so, that even if you took a month off you wouldn’t have to worry about running out of it for the next few years.”

  “What did you tell him, Conor?”

  The other game warden shook his head. “All I said was that Miranda might be in trouble and he replied asking me, ‘How much time does Trace need?’” Lifting up his hands in a helpless gesture, he continued. “I think you’re the only one of the wardens we know that thinks there’s an ‘if’ about the two of you. The rest of us, think it just feels ‘right.’”

  Standing up, Conor clapped a hand down on Trace’s shoulder. “We’ve got your back, Trace, just like we’ve got yours,” he smiled at Miranda. “So, you two figure out what you want to do. We’ll take the rest from there.”

  She got up to her feet and instead of Trace letting her hand go, he got up with her and they followed Conor to the door.

  When he stepped down to the walk at the bottom of the steps he turned around and looked at them together. “Erin and I want to have you two over or go out and have some fun at the lake as soon as this is all settled, so just keep that in mind. All right?”

  Miranda felt Trace’s arm wrap around her waist and she leaned against him. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

  Conor laughed. “Truer words, Miranda. Truer words…”

  Trace gathered her closer and closed the door behind his partner, quickly setting the locks.

  Miranda turned in his embrace and lifted her hands to touch the sides of his face. “I’m so glad that you’re here with me.”

  He nodded and pulled her closer with a hard tug. “We need to talk.”

  Chapter 6

  He didn’t know where to go. It seemed like every place they could sit down in her house was just the wrong place.

  The couch, well, they’d just stepped away from the couch and those deep cushions were a bit too comfortable for what he had in mind.

  The counter had chairs, but he didn’t want to worry about her trying to make him dinner. He wanted her full attention for what had to be said.

  Out back had a few tables but even more distractions.

  Trace felt her fingers slide along his temple and he leaned into her touch.

  “If you’re not careful,” she murmured to him, “you’re going to faint.”

  He pulled away and gave her a dubious stare. “Faint? I doubt that! Men in my family don’t faint.”

  “Okay,” he could hear the soft tone of laughter in her voice, “then what’s going to happen in a few minutes when whatever problem you have stewing in your head breaks loose like those merry-go-rounds they have on playgrounds and you go spinning off?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing like that is going to happen. I just need to figure out where we’re going to talk. I want to make sure I have your attention.”

  “Oh,” she looked him over, “I like the sound of that.”

  “You do?” He was fairly sure that he couldn’t trust her at her words. She was entirely too dangerous to him.

  “Well, I’ve got an idea if you want my attention.” He didn’t even have to nod before she continued on. She certainly liked having the upper hand and he was out of ideas so he decided to listen. “You can take a bath.”

  “I’m fine,” he explained, wondering when she’d gotten so confused, “I don’t need to take a bath. I need to talk to you.”

  “Well, I get that,” she rolled her eyes at him, “but if you take a shower it’s going to be hard to listen to you over the noise. And all of that water moving over your skin is going to make me want to touch you and then you’ll never finish what it is you have to say.”

  He dropped his chin to his chest on a groan. “This is serious, Miranda.”

  She moved closer and tugged the tails of his uniform shirt out of his waistband. “Don’t you think I know that?” Her hands dropped to his belt buckle. “We’ve got to get the belt off first. Don’t want to drop your gun on the floor.”

  He heard the distinctive click as his belt loosened from around his middle.

  “Hey now.” His hands grabbed at hers and managed to tug his belt free and lay it on the counter. “Talk first.”

  Her hands stilled on the front of his shirt and the look that she gave him made him feel ten-feet tall. “First? I like the sound of that.”

  A tug on his shirt turned his gaze down as she flicked a button with the tip of her finger.

  Before he could grumble or complain, she moved her hands away from his chest.

  He should have been happy but Trace only felt the absence of her touch and came damn closer to grabbing her hands and putting them back on his chest. “We need to talk, ‘Randa.”

  “Then talk!”

  She laughed and his hands grabbed her, latching onto her waist, and pulling her closer.

  He realized his mistake as soon as she wiggled her hips closer against his.

  If he left her to her devices for much longer, he was going to end up bypassing the talk and making use of the first flat surface he could lay her on.

  And he knew that’s not how he wanted it to be.

  “How you want what to be?”

  His eyes looked down into hers and he saw her wide-eyed curiosity staring back at him, and the way her lips parted on an exhale that sounded almost like a moan.

  “You’ve got me twisted up inside, woman.”

  She would have spoken then if he’d given her the chance, but he was done giving her the reins.

  “You’ve led me along on a fine chase, Miranda Jimenez, but it stops now.”

  Trace expected her to argue with him or put up some kind of fuss, but she didn’t, and the shine in her eyes made his pulse thunder under his skin.

  “You don’t work with me anymore, but that doesn’t mean that you’re not going to listen to me.” He dragged his gaze over her face and saw the flush of her skin. “But right now, you’re not a game warden anymore. All of the skills you learned… they’re still a part of you, but you’re going to have to let others have a hand in taking care of you.

  “You’re going to have to listen to others and obey the rules. All of your old willful behavior is going to stop. You’re going to let me take care of you and that’s all there is to it.

  “When this is over and I know you’re safe,” something squeezed tight in his chest, but he kept going, knowing that if he let her get a word in edgewise, she’d never let him get it all out, “then if you want to be in control, I’m good with that, but not while I think you’re in danger.” He drew in one last deep breath and let it out. “And the thought of you in danger… it’s killing me. Just killing me.”

  Before he could remind himself why it would be a bad idea, Trace grabbed her hand and set it over his heart knowing that they could both feel the pounding rhythm through their connection.

  A silence settled between them and he began to doubt his earlier prediction.

  Miranda had made no secret of the fact that she’d wanted to be with him, wanted to have sex.

  Those had been her words.

  Not his.

  No. He wanted her, but he wanted their first time to be about something more substantial than a quick fuck or a rush to get each other’s clothes off and fall into bed, sweaty and replete.

  And now that he’d all but told her he wanted to be in control and that’s exactly how it was going to be, she’d been quiet.

  No teasing words.

  No straight refusal and a lecture about the twenty-first century.

  Nothing.

  Now she stood there, her hand sandwich
ed between them.

  She was strong enough and skilled enough to put him on his ass.

  This woman was going to put him in an early grave if he wasn’t careful.

  When the last few grains of his patience fell into dust he looked straight into her eyes. “Well?”

  “Well, what?” And damn, if she didn’t sound happy to be confused.

  “Are you going to say something? Do something? I all but told you I’m going to run your life for the foreseeable future and you didn’t slap me silly.”

  “Oh,” she smiled and he felt that again, she was trying to drive him insane, “is that all?”

  “Miranda, don’t try to play a game here.”

  “I’m not,” her words were as sure as the deep warm brown of her eyes. “I thought we were waiting for you to tell me.”

  “Tell you what?”

  She leaned a scant inch closer and he felt her free hand slip into his. “Tell me how you’re going to make love to me, Trace. I’m dying for you, too. Dying to feel you inside of me.

  “Dying to be under you.

  “And feel your mouth on my skin. You just need to tell me-”

  He moved then. Keeping a tight hold on her hand that she’d placed in his, he walked her to the stairs and started upstairs.

  The staircase was original to the house, he could tell that at a glance. It was just as much a piece of Texas history as the family she came from… and the love they were about to consummate.

  He didn’t stop to talk to her. Trace only managed to call over his shoulder to her as they reached the middle of the stairs at the landing. “When I marry you,” he ground out the words as if he was carving them into stone, “I’m going to have to walk up these stairs sideways so I can carry you in my arms.”

  He heard her gasp but he kept going.

  “You’re… you’re only supposed to carry the bride over the threshold of the house, Trace. That’s the front door.”

  “Doesn’t matter to me, love. I’m going to carry you into our bedroom because that’s where I plan to spend a lot of time with you.”

  They’d just reached the top of the staircase and he didn’t want to stop, not for anything. If they did, he was afraid he’d just lift up her skirt and take her against the wall.

  He wanted more of their first time, wanted to give it to her, with a soft bed at her back.

  And there they were, in the doorway of her bedroom.

  Their bedroom, he corrected himself. Sure, she hadn’t said as much, but he knew it was true deep inside him.

  He pulled her into his arms as if they were dancing, embracing her with all the strength and tenderness that flowed through his body.

  He’d been up there before.

  He’d been in her bed.

  But this was different.

  A quick look down at her feet made him smile. “You’re wearing shoes.”

  Her eyes rolled as she struggled against him. “Sandals,” she corrected, “and that’s what you’re going with?”

  “I was looking at your feet.”

  “I got that.”

  “And I just realized that you’re wearing a dress.”

  “So?”

  He couldn’t miss the way her lower lip trembled ever so slightly.

  “I like the way you used to look in your uniform, but I love the way you look in dresses.”

  She wasn’t talking now.

  She wasn’t even moving.

  He took her by her shoulders and turned her around until her back was to the bed.

  Before she could think of stepping backward, he let her go for a moment. Grasping the comforter, she’d laid over the bed, he pushed it hard enough that the whole thing slid off the end and onto the floor.

  When he stood back up, he could see a smile tickling the corners of her mouth.

  Who knew that a woman as strong as she was liked a little bit of a caveman?

  Stepping closer, he reached out for the fabric tie at her waist, taking one in each hand as he met her curios gaze. “You need to know that if you ever tell me to stop, I will. That’s a line I won’t cross.”

  She licked her lips while she kept her gaze on his. “But?”

  “But, tonight,” he told her, “I need the control. I need you to let me love you. So, if I hurt you, or even come close-”

  “If I don’t like something, I’ll tell you, Trace, but-”

  He heard the same challenge in her voice. “But?”

  “I’m sure that I’m going to love anything you do to me.”

  “All right.” He felt as if the air in his lungs was setting him on fire. That the very warmth of her skin was already seeping into his. This wasn’t just about sex. It wasn’t just about anything.

  It was about Miranda.

  And now he knew that she meant… everything to him.

  “Don’t move.”

  She stood still before him, her eyes on his face.

  He almost wished that he could keep looking at her, but he got down on one knee before her and wrapped a hand around her ankle.

  With a little tug he felt her shift her weight onto one foot so he could lift her foot from the woven rug and slip the sandal off of her foot.

  He could hear her breathing, louder than he was used to, but when he heard her breath tremble as he smoothed the pad of his thumb against her instep, he felt heat roll through his chest.

  “I could do that,” her voice was barely a whisper.

  “I know,” he replied, “but I wanted to do it.”

  Trace repeated the same gesture and set her sandals aside.

  He got back up on both feet and reached for the ties at her waist again, but instead of holding them, he tugged on the ties and pulled the bow apart.

  The dress didn’t immediately fall open and he took a long look at it before reaching for the place where the bow had been and pulled on it.

  “Want a clue?”

  Before she could say anything else, he covered her lips with his.

  He could tell that he’d shocked her, widening eyes and the gasp of breath that he drew into his own lungs made it hard to pull away.

  But he wanted more.

  And that’s what he did.

  Reaching into the gap between the two parts of her dress, he felt a flat hook and released it.

  Trace took hold of each side of her dress and pulled it open and off her shoulders. He was close enough to see how she shivered when her dress slid down to the rug at her feet.

  He cupped her breasts in his hands, enjoying the feeling of the soft cotton fabric of her bra against his skin and the hard points of her nipples skimming the tender flesh at the center of his palms.

  Miranda’s breathing changed, becoming deeper, slower and yet she kept her arms at her sides, her body as still as he could possibly expect.

  “I’ve dreamt of touching you like this,” he wasn’t sure she even heard his words, but he gave them to her, nonetheless. “Dreamt of taking every piece of clothing off of your body and making you mine.”

  Her breathing deepened again and every breath moved her nipples against his palms.

  “You fit so perfectly in my hands,” he told her and slowly caressed her through the buttery soft fabric. “So much better than I imagined.”

  When his hands shifted and his thumbs swept across her nipples, she whimpered and pressed her thighs together.

  “Do you want more?”

  He felt like it was a decadent question to ask, but he wanted to know… no, he needed to know how much she needed him.

  He was barely holding on as it was. What was it like for her?

  She said… she said something.

  But she had no idea what words she managed to come out with, or even if she’d managed more than a few unintelligible syllables because when he’d pulled the straps of her bra off her shoulders and bared her breasts to him, she felt like she was lost.

  The silvery-grey eyes that had always fascinated her looked at her with awe.

  It was almost to
o crazy to believe, but Trace Carson had reached out a hand and trailed his fingertip around her tightening nipple.

  When he repeated the touch with his other hand, touching her breast with a kind of reverence that she’d never experienced, she felt a rush of heat between her legs.

  “Trace,” she was begging him with her voice and the slight tremble of her knees.

  “Let me take my time, Miranda. I feel like I’ve been waiting for you… forever.”

  His thumb swept over her nipple and she cried out.

  “Me too,” she fisted her hands at her sides, “Please, I’m not going to last.”

  He laughed, but it wasn’t mean, or hurtful. It touched her to see the light in his face. He was so dark all the time. “Are you telling me what to do?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll beg, I don’t mind. I just need you.”

  And his smile faded, but the glimmer in his eyes didn’t. “You shouldn’t have to beg, Miranda. Not ever.”

  He reached around behind her and unclasped her bra. “Sit down on the bed.”

  She followed his instructions and sighed as the warm evening air touched her bare breasts as he pulled her bra free of her arms. Seated on her bed, she didn’t feel like the seductress she’d wanted to be, but the sight of his erection pushing on the front of his pants still made her feel powerful.

  “Lean back on your elbows.”

  That was easy enough.

  “Lift up your hips, darlin’.”

  Arching her back, she watched as he reached for her, her bra still held in his hands. It stretched across her belly as he tucked his fingers into the straps that circled around her hips. It made her draw in a breath as the straps of her bra tickled the tender flesh just under her bellybutton.

  But that wasn’t the end of his tender ministrations or her torment.

  When he drew her panties down to the middle of her thighs, he paused for a moment and rubbed his cheek against the inside of her thigh, bringing his lips a scant inch from her silken curls.

  Just the sight of it made her cry out and collapse back against the bed.

  He drew her underwear off completely, skimming the fabric over her knees, calves, and finally her feet.