by Cindy Skaggs
Her head fell back, a move that thrust her chest out.
“Freckles here.” He dropped a kiss to her nose. “A dimple here.” Another kiss to her cheek. “Velvet skin.” His tongue trailed along her collarbone before planting a full kiss to the crook of her neck. “The smell of sunshine.”
“Sunshine doesn’t have a smell.” Her body hummed with every word and every touch.
“Trust me. The sun smells like you. It lives in your smile. But this right here.” He nudged her breasts together and nuzzled between them. “This is the money shot. Been wanting to do this, even knowing it was wrong.”
“Nothing that feels this good can be wrong.”
He sucked a nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue around the edges until his warm mouth turned her nipple hard. “Does this feels good? I see the way you move. Tell me. What do you feel?”
“Oh, God,” she nearly stumbled back at his request. “I’m no good at this.”
“This?”
“Bedroom talk.”
“Dirty talk,” he corrected. He lashed his tongue over her other nipple. “I bet you’re wrong. I bet that hearing it, saying it, takes you right to the edge.”
“I’m nearly there now,” she admitted. It had been awhile for her, and Maurice wasn’t much into foreplay, an event at which Dean could earn a gold medal. The attention he lavished on her chest put her nerves on notice. They fired all the way to her core.
“Let me see what we can do about that.” He skimmed his hands down her body and into the back of her flannel pants to find her—
“Commando,” he muttered. One tug and her flannel pants pooled on the floor. “Oh, sugar, we’re going to have fun.”
“How do you do that? Get my clothes off so fast?”
“Does it put your panties in a twist.”
“It would if I had any.”
He laughed before swirling his tongue around his finger. “Let me see if I can guess what talking dirty does to you. When I stripped off your clothes, your stomach dropped.” He ran his wet finger down her stomach.
For a moment, she flinched as he ran the finger down her stomach, the one she obsessed over because no matter what she did, she had that extra weight that made her opt for looser clothes and one-piece swimsuits. But the hunger in his eyes didn’t leave any room for doubt. He wanted her, so no way was she letting body issues get in the way.
Heck, they hadn’t gotten to the really good parts yet, and it was already the best sex of her life. He continued the exploration, his hands touching, kneading, and getting up close and personal with all her inhibitions.
“And when I do this.” He suckled her nipple again, tugging harder this time and pulling away with a light nip. “That travels straight... here.” He cupped her mound. “Right?”
“I’d say that covers it.” The low, throaty answer didn’t sound like her, and the words were only a half-truth. “Your touch makes me crazy. Hot.” She squeezed her legs together, trapping his hand there. “Needy.” She looked down as she said the words and felt the answering blush when the words replayed in her mind. This kind of honesty wasn’t in her repertoire.
“Hold up.” He gripped her chin and forced her gaze to meet his. His mouth drew down in serious lines and the teasing glint left his eyes. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of here. This is hot as fuck and I plan to answer every one of those needs, but not if you have any doubts. Not if it makes you feel cheap.”
“It doesn’t.” It made her feel excited. Wanted. “But I want to know what you feel.”
Rather than answer, he grabbed her hand and placed it over his zipper. A very large part of his anatomy flexed in her hand. A very warm and hard part of his anatomy. She cleared her throat. “This part of you seems to be, uh, in proportion with the rest of you.”
He grinned. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
She let go to run her hands over his broad shoulders. The skin was tight over solid muscle. Heavenly. “You have to know you’re larger than the average bear.”
“I don’t know about bears,” he said, “but there’s nothing average about me.”
Laughter bubbled up her throat. God, who knew sex could be fun and overpowering at the same time? “What I wouldn’t give for your confidence.”
“You damn well should be confident. You’re fucking beautiful. Sexy, smart, and tough enough to raise a kid on your own. That takes more strength than signing up for some twisted government program. Don’t let some small town asshole define you.”
She shook her head and smiled up at him. His features were dead serious, his lips mashed together in lecture mode, and some indefinable emotion in his eyes. In that moment, her heart tripped and for a second, she fought the urge to run, but she wanted to be the woman he saw. The tough one and not the one who had been hiding from life. So she ran her hands over his arms again, enjoying the twitch of his muscles. He was absolutely amazing.
“I won’t.” From now on, she’d define herself by this moment and by the desire she saw in the eyes of this rugged man. No one could take that from her. “So tell me,” she prompted, drawing the conversation back. “Tell me what you feel.”
He slipped his hand into her hair in a soft, possessive move before kissing her, stealing her breath, and endangering her heart. “You make me want to lose control.”
The air in her lungs burned at his hot tone of voice. “What does that look like?” she wondered. He was always so tightly controlled.
“You sure you want to go there?”
Something like fear jumped in her chest, but she nodded. The fear wouldn’t win. She wanted to know.
“Just a few minutes ago, when you bent forward and shoved your ass in my groin—”
“I did that?” She couldn’t remember. Could only feel.
“Hell yeah you did. Teasing me like that made me so goddamn hard I wanted to bend you over right there. Take you fast.” He spun her around so her back was to his front and his denim-covered erection hard against her bare skin. “That made you clench inside, didn’t it, sugar?”
She nodded. His words did the same as her internal muscles begged for him. “I’ve never been more turned on.”
“My timing,” he reminded her.
She groaned. She had agreed from the beginning, but she shook with desire. The need for now and later.
Behind her, a metallic sound of his zipper coming undone followed by a heavy thud as his jeans hit the floor just about brought her to climax. A moment later she heard something rip and turned to see him tear open a condom wrapper and glide it on his hard length. Her heart nearly stopped. He was huge. And he made her want him this very second. How was he doing this to her? “Remind me. Why slow?” Seriously, he was killing her.
From behind, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Whispered in her ear. “Because every moment could be my last. I want the good stuff to last forever.”
At those words, her heart clenched as her core had done moments before. All those times she thought she was alone, she didn’t know the half of it. She didn’t know loneliness like Dean did. He had her beat by a million miles. “Dean, touch me.”
“With pleasure.” He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around to tease his breasts. Not seeing him, not being able to caress him, brought the pleasure to a sharp point. He incited her again, kissing and touching and nipping the tender skin of her neck. Soon, she was writhing and mindless, chasing an orgasm she couldn’t control.
“Tell me you’re wet.”
She nodded.
“Say it.”
One step closer. Her groin actually ached. “You make me wet.”
“That’s it, sugar. You make me so damn hard.” He slipped his hand between her legs to test for himself. He parted the lower lips until he found her clit and swirled moisture to smooth the glide of his fingers through her folds. Her hips jerked in response. From behind, he slid a leg between hers and soon his thigh pressed against her entrance. He body arched, clambering f
or release. His fingers worked her and his rough breath tickled the back of her neck. The soft scrape of leg hair between he legs was insane.
“That’s it. Ride me. Show me what I do to you.”
With a slight increase in pressure, she detonated. Dean whispered sweet nonsense words in her ear until she came down from a high unlike any other, but the part of her rubbing against his thigh wanted more. “Please. I want you inside me.”
He turned her around in his arms and took her mouth in a searing kiss. His erection flexed against her stomach. He wasn’t joking. He was hard as any rock and big. Scary big, but he didn’t give her time to think. Backing her into the mattress he took them both down, never once breaking the kiss. His mouth and his hands brought her up again, impossibly turned on and arching into his large frame.
She whispered his name; she might have screamed it, but he got the message and seated himself at her entrance. “You’re so wet. Gonna feel so good,” he muttered against her neck. “Open for me, sugar, spread your legs.”
She did as he asked and tilted her hips as he rammed home. Her head dropped back to the mattress and her toes dug in. “You feel...”
The words cut off as pleasure radiated from where they connected.
“What?” His ass continued to flex as he moved in and out at an impossible speed, hitting deep inside, pushing the pleasure to new heights.
“Huge,” she gasped, trying to hold off longer. “I’ve never felt so.” She gulped air. “Full. Never.” She made no sense. Words had no meaning. Sensitive from her last orgasm, the way he rubbed her clit as he thrust sent her over the edge into another orgasm, louder, fuller, more than the last.
She went over screaming his name. He followed with a hoarse shout that caused more mini-eruptions inside her. She’d never met a man like Dean. She’d never experienced anything so intense. And it only made her want him more.
Chapter Fourteen
Stills pulled a blanket over his naked body as the chill of the room washed away the heat of the moment. Mandi had been the first to leave. She practically ran out of the room muttering about a shower. Everything about her read that she’d cuddle after sex, but she hadn’t been able to stay because he’d been a complete ass. Way over the line with his best friend’s sister. Fuck. He rubbed the headache pounding behind his left temple.
Sleeping with Mandi wasn’t some random hookup. Didn’t matter what he’d said or what she believed. She meant more than that, but he’d already given up any hope for the future, so what did that leave her?
Walking away from a woman like Mandi was going to hurt. He might not be a keeper, but she definitely was. Soft, sweet, sexy. Hell, the body she hid under her flannels was the kind of thing that sent men into battle. He waited until she crawled out the trapdoor before sitting up. He was screwed. It hadn’t crossed his mind that he’d fall for a teammate’s sister. Rose’s sister Camy was a funny, cheerful little thing that he thought of as a surrogate sister, so this stronger feeling for Gault’s sister twisted him up inside. He didn’t have time. He’d strap on his boots and march away this minute if she didn’t need him.
Strap on boots.
Stills looked at the shoes lining the wall. Hell, he wasn’t thinking straight or he would have noticed that first thing. He stood to investigate, but Mandi called out, her voice strangled with panic.
He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but fear made her voice high-pitched. He rolled through the trapdoor and into the bunkroom as she crested the loft floor with one hand holding a towel around her chest. “Someone’s outside.”
“Who?”
“Don’t know.” Her chest rose and fell in panic. “Two men on foot. I—”
A crash of breaking glass sounded from below. “That’s the bedroom window. Downstairs.”
“Hurry. Back in your hideout.” He dead lifted her from the ladder as the window in the bunkroom also crashed in. Shit, no time to hide Mandi. He shoved her behind him and went after the most immediate threat. The man in the bunkroom came after him without hesitation.
The cheesy mustache was gone, but it was the asshole from the hospital in Tucson. Echo was going to a hell of a lot of trouble to eliminate a family member. Unless they knew what Stills was looking for, what he thought he’d found in the other room. He launched himself at the intruder, landing the first punch and taking Echo to the ground. Echo reversed their position and smacked Stills’ head against the floor. The move rearranged his brain until all Stills knew was a furious need to end Echo.
They grappled with neither gaining the upper hand. Stills used his legs to send Echo flying across the room. He jumped to his feet at the same time Echo regained his. And pulled a knife from a sheath at his belt. In the same move, Echo turned to where Mandi stood near the door. His intention clear.
Furious rage emerged in a subhuman roar as Stills launched at Echo to prevent him from getting anywhere near Mandi. He overshot, sending both of them rolling out of the bunkroom and onto the loft. The narrow wedge wasn’t made for wrestling, but they were rolling with too much force to stop. The railing smacked his head and ended Stills’ spiral. A foot to the right and he’d have flown through the ladder opening. The crash of Echo hitting the other side sounded like thunder, but Stills’ vision blurred so he couldn’t assess the damage.
He climbed to his feet, blinking blood from his eyes. He lifted a hand to feel sticky wet oozing from a head wound.
Shit. He swiped at his eyes to clear his vision. Echo had hit the other side of the railing, but his upper body spilled through the ladder opening.
Stills reacted on instinct, kicking the guy the rest of the way to hell. Echo screamed as he plummeted through the opening and onto the cedar chest with a gooey crunch. Stills peered over the loft railing to see the second man ascending the ladder.
Stills kicked him in the temple, but the man simply grinned. Something sick about smiling at pain. This guy wasn’t familiar, at least not from the Echo kill wall, but he had the same imbalanced gleam to his eyes that marked most of Team Echo as crazy motherfuckers.
“Come on down to play.” He flipped back and landed on his feet below. “Bring your girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Stills turned to see Mandi holding the towel to her chest. Her eyes glazed with shock. “Go.” He gestured to the bunkroom. This was one fight he had to win, because this loser would tear the place apart if he won. “I’ll come get you when it’s finished.”
She shook her head no. “You can’t go down there. You’re naked.”
He looked down to see blood from his head had dripped down his right side. And he was as naked as the day he was born. Fuck, when were the cards going to fall in his favor? “I’ve fought with less.”
“Less than naked with no weapons?”
“I once took out a target with dental floss. I’ll be fine. Now do what I told you. My way, remember.” He started down the ladder. “Go.”
He turned around, gauged the distance, and dove for the second attacker. Flesh smacked flesh and they reeled toward the floor at high velocity. Punches flew, kicks and hits and at least one bite. “Fucker. You fight like a girl.”
The guy renewed his attack and they went rolling around the cold floor. Wind blew in from the bedroom where the broken window let in blowing snow and enough cold to freeze the balls off a brass monkey. Stills couldn’t see beyond the man he was fighting. If Mandi missed some of the intruders and there were more than two, they were screwed. He didn’t have it in him to fight a third man. They rolled over Echo’s body and it wasn’t even a speed bump.
If anything, the fight sped faster like a train racing downhill to the end of the line. The attacker landed a kick and Stills heard a rib crack, but buried the pain deep. Red filled his vision from his bleeding head, and he had already started the day with a mother of all headaches.
He climbed to his feet feeling like an old man, and when the intruder tried to tackle him, Stills sidestepped and gave the guy an extra kick to the backside. B
areknuckle fighting took more energy than he remembered. Fuck, he was too old for this shit. He grabbed the coffee pot sizzling on the potbelly stove. “Time to end this.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
When Stills turned to face the man, he had a death grip on Mandi’s throat. She held a towel to her chest with one hand while the other was clutched to her side in a white-knuckled grip.
“I told you to stay upstairs.”
“I’m fine,” she griped, but the last word pinched off with a yelp when the attacker squeezed her neck.
“You don’t look fine.”
“I’ve fought with less,” she answered. Her eyes snapped with fury.
Damn, he liked her. “I don’t see any dental floss.”
She fisted the hand at her side. “Guess I left that in my other towel. What about you?”
“Fresh out of towels.”
The other man forced her back; she acted as a shield. He wrapped an arm around her throat. “One move. That’s the way we were trained. One quick move and she’s gone.”
Stills growled. He saw red, and it wasn’t the blood dripping down his face. It was rage, something he was all too familiar with. For months, he’d held back letting it loose, but he had nothing to lose. Letting go of the remains of his sanity, he took a step toward Mandi and her attacker.
The guy grinned, showing bloody spit and a missing tooth. “You’re going out of this world as naked as you came into it.” He threw a knife that Stills didn’t see until it was barreling for his chest.
Mandi screamed a warning. Stills twisted and the knife missed, wedging in the log behind where he’d stood. It would have lodged in his throat. Mandi lifted her hands like she was getting leverage to elbow the guy, but in one hand she gripped the hilt of a knife. She stabbed it into the man holding her hostage. “That’s how you fight like a girl, asshole.”
His grip loosened and she pulled away, but before she got far, he kicked her in the back, sending her sprawling. Stills lost the last tether to his humanity. Time stopped or sped up or he blacked out. A strangled cry emerged from his throat and the next thing he knew, he yanked the knife from the guy’s thigh.