Dying for Love

by Angel Nicholas

  He had to…he needed to… Shit. He was behaving like a caveman again. Five seconds away from taking her against the door and, for the life of him, he couldn’t release her breasts. Matt dropped his head back and sucked in air like a dying man, kneading soft handfuls of heaven. Not helping.

  Grace deserved better. Rose petals and flickering candles. Silk sheets, soft music, and a slow seduction. His damn heart clutched at the thought of how beautiful she would look in candlelight. Like forever. But at this point, if he could manage to drag them both to a soft surface, he’d call it a win. He would do the other stuff later. After he’d been inside her for about a week. She squirmed against him.

  Make that a month.

  “Grace, the bed.”

  Pushing off the door, forcing him back, she turned and made for the bedroom. Making excellent use of the otherwise wasted time, if he did say so himself, he managed to unbutton his shirt one-handed. Grace tossed her shirt and bra across the bedroom. Her skirt followed, leaving her in red heels and a scrap of black lace held in place by several thin straps across her hips.

  He reached for her, intent on removing the last vestige of barrier between him and the promise land. Her playful slap on his hand stopped him short.

  “Patience,” she murmured.

  She reached up to slide his shirt off his shoulders and her hardened nipples brushed against his bare chest. They both moaned. His shirt fell and she repeated the motion then shifted side to side, erotic torment at its finest. Grace’s eyes slid closed. Flushed with pleasure, lost in sensation, she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. He fisted his hands at his sides to keep from throwing her to the bed.

  A low growl rumbled in his throat without his permission, but he’d been pushed as far as he could go. He would be ashamed of his animalistic behavior tomorrow.

  Backing off a little with another of those smiles he was coming to love, she reached for his belt. He covered her hand with his. “Sweetheart?”

  Warm green eyes met his. “Hmm?”

  “Let me finish this. Go lie on the bed. Please.”

  The corners of her lips tipped up farther. “Still bossy, but you’re learning.”

  She turned and walked to the big bed.

  Tickling the crevice between the beautiful pale globes of her bottom, little sparkling balls at the end of a black satin bow bounced with each step. He swallowed his tongue. He should find out where she purchased her lingerie and buy stock.

  He almost hit the floor when he forgot he was still wearing his shoes. Swallowing a curse, he yanked them off and his pants followed. Matt paused at the mattress to admire the view Grace presented draped across the cream comforter. So beautiful. So much more than all of his fantasies. Still wearing those panties.

  Twitching with the urge to smooth his hands over her silky skin, he forced himself to hold still. Turnabout was fair play. He was only peripherally aware of her gaze skimming down his body, fixated as he was on the rapid rise and fall of her breasts. His erection surged in response. She fisted the comforter and her tongue flicked out to moisten her lower lip.

  Her hands went on a leisurely journey over the top of her thighs, across her smooth stomach, to cup her breasts like a pagan offering. Glittering emerald eyes met his.

  “Grace,” he groaned.

  “Come here.”

  Stopping just short of lunging, he nudged her legs apart to make a home for himself between them. The valley between tempted him to pause and linger, but he resisted, not stopping until they were eye to eye.

  “I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for this. For you. This moment.”

  “So stop waiting already,” she whispered.

  Brushing his lips back and forth across hers, he found he could breathe freely again. As if with her permission to devour, he’d regained control. With unending patience, he applied himself to the task of driving her out of her mind. Starting at the top and working his way down, he nibbled, licked, and kissed every inch of her lithe body. He lingered over her breasts, loving the breathy moans he elicited each time he drew her nipples deep into his mouth. Kissed along the valley to her belly button, nibbled along her hips. Discovered sensitive spots at the inside of her thighs and her ankles. Then made his way back up to settle between her thighs.

  “Matt.”

  She wriggled beneath him. He anchored her with a forearm over her belly and spread her knees wide with his other hand. The damp, sheer barrier of her panties offered little protection. The sight and scent of her arousal nearly drove him beyond the ability to form words.

  “Let me.”

  She stilled.

  Her thigh muscles quivered, as if she was fighting against the desire to close her legs. That desire to please him, to strain her comfort zone for him, touched him and wrapped tentacles around his heart. He wanted to give her the world, but for right now, he’d settle for giving her an orgasm.

  Running his tongue along the damp bit of silk, he tasted her. Addictive. Not nearly satisfied, he nudged aside the little triangle of cloth. He explored and tasted every hidden secret until she writhed and her cries filled the room. He nudged his tongue inside her then licked his way further north. She strained against him, muscles tightening. He pushed a finger inside and sucked her clit into his mouth.

  Grace cried out and clamped her legs around his head. Her body arched and her fingers tangled in his hair, pushing him away and pulling him closer at the same time. He pinched her clitoris and sent her flying again.

  Waiting, aching and throbbing with desire, until every muscle in her body had gone limp, Matt pushed his thumb inside her. She contracted around him and made a little hum of pleasure. Resting his forehead against her pelvis, pulse thundering in his head, he massaged and teased her back up. When she moved with him, meeting each thrust of his finger, he rose.

  Crawling up her body, very much enjoying the view of her flushed and panting beneath him, he rummaged around for the condom packet he’d tossed on the bed earlier. She’d twisted the comforter and dislodged pillows.

  He’d done that to her. Smugness battled desperation. Where was the damn condom?

  “Matt,” she moaned, pulling on him.

  Fumbling, shaking, he searched harder. Slender hands caressed his chest, moved lower and wrapped around his erection. He froze. Grace guided the head between her legs, tugging until he rested against the hot, wet opening he so desperately wanted to sink into. Against his will, his hips surged forward and the head slipped inside. That little hum of pleasure came again and she grasped his butt, nails digging into him, trying to pull him deeper.

  “Matt…”

  “The condom.” He groaned, arms shaking. “It must have fallen off the bed.”

  “I don’t care.” She whimpered, wriggling.

  He shook harder. If she’d just hold still for two seconds, he’d find the strength to move, pull out and find the freakin’ condom. Obviously not in a cooperative mood, she moved again. Nibbled on his chest while curling her hips up and taking him deeper. On a muffled groan, he lost what little control he’d been hanging on to and buried himself to the hilt inside her pulsating, wet heat.

  Another little wriggle and he slid deeper. Grace wrapped her legs and arms around him, holding him to her. He cradled her to him, awed by how precious she felt.

  “Grace, I’m not wearing any protection. I want to take care of you.”

  Pulling away a little, she blinked, so beautiful it physically hurt to look at her. Made him ache in places that had nothing to do with his dick and everything to do with his heart.

  She played with his earlobe. “Are you safe?”

  “Safe?” He tried not to think about his dick, buried in all that perfect wet heat. Safe… Oh. Duh. “Yeah. I haven’t been with anyone in a while, and I’ve been tested since then.”

  An adorable grimace came and went. “Well, I definitely am. I haven’t had a boyfriend since high school.” That would explain the incredibly tight muscles making his head explode. “
I’m not a one-night-stand kind of girl. Plus,” the sex kitten look she cast him made him twitch inside of her, “I’m on the pill. So we’re fine. If…you’re fine.”

  Sex kitten turned uncertain, shy librarian. Both mind-numbingly erotic.

  Oh, he was more than fine. He pulled back, almost all the way out. Resignation flashed across her face, then he thrust back in. Resignation became bliss. Sliding a hand down, he grasped the round globe of her bottom and tilted her hips. Thrust again. Her beautiful green eyes went hazy and unfocused. The pretty porcelain-doll skin of her cheeks turned pink.

  So beautiful. The tempo built with a will of its own, sweeping him away in a symphony of desire tangled inexorably with love. Reality crashed into him, the ripple effect moving outward and blinding him to everything but the woman moaning beneath him. Harder and faster, he pounded into her, the four-poster bed groaning in protest.

  In the back of his mind, he recognized he was out of control and tried to rein it in, but it was too late. Climax gathered at the base of his spine. Grace tightened around him. Her arms wound around his neck, pulling his head down. He breathed in the scent of aroused woman. Long legs hooked around his hips, insisting he move faster and he obeyed. Tight inner muscles fisted him, demanding he give her release.

  Cradling her head in his hand, he sucked on the sweet skin beneath her ear. His other palm tilted her hips higher, allowing him to surge deeper. Once, twice, climax drew undeniably closer. He slammed home and she shattered in his arms. Her thin scream raised goosebumps, and he caught the sound of her pleasure in his mouth.

  Matt pumped into her, her climax milking him. Orgasm swept up his spine. Buried as far as he could go, he was afraid that more than his seed spilled into her lush body. His heart followed.

  Still holding him tight, the aftermath of her orgasm rippling over him, the selflessness with which she accepted him shook him to the core. He ripped his mouth free of hers and pressed his forehead to her neck.

  Brain function returned in small increments. He needed to get off her. Dragging himself free of her wet heat brought a groan. She was still so damn tight. Taking her with him, he rolled over. Limbs boneless in spent pleasure, she lay across his chest.

  Oh yeah, he could get used to this.

  “Matt?”

  “Yeah?”

  “That was incredible.”

  Matt’s chest swelled, along with other parts of his anatomy. “I was a virgin until just now.”

  Grace burst into laughter, rolling off him onto her back in helpless giggles. He lifted onto an elbow and enjoyed the way her breasts jiggled. Unable to resist, he leaned down and caught a nipple in his mouth.

  She gasped his name, arched upward, and the giggles stopped.

  “As I recall, I made some promises this morning.” Enjoying the way her body curled into him, he moved to the other breast.

  “I don’t think I can.”

  He sucked harder and her head fell back on a moan thick with ripening desire.

  “Then again…”

  Since she could still talk, he clearly needed to up his game.

  *****

  Sheriff John Sanford glared from the crinkled map spread across his hood to the stretch of road disappearing into a jagged canyon. How the hell had he gotten this far off track? He slammed a fist down, denting his SUV. Not a second to lose and he’d gotten lost. How his wife would have laughed.

  Fresh grief slammed into him. Thirty-five years together, and only a month since she’d been gone. The first stroke had taken her entire left side. The next…damn. He pinched the bridge of his nose. The way her eyes had pleaded with him still shook him. As if begging him to put her out of her misery. Like she was trapped inside her body and desperate for a way out.

  In some ways, the final stroke had come as a relief. Even if he sometimes thought the pain of living without her would kill him. He couldn’t bring himself to care if he lived or died. His cell phone rang and he fumbled for it, welcoming the distraction.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, Son. Are you finished with this foolishness yet?”

  Deep breath in; deep breath out. He would not yell at his mother. “No, I’m not. I feel responsible.” His voice rose on the last decibel. He paused and took another deep breath. “I’ve explained this already.”

  “It doesn’t make sense, John. Why did you go to so much trouble to hide this girl? From what?”

  His molars ground at the whine in her too-high voice. “I ignored all the signs. Hell, her momma came into the station with a black eye and begged me for help. You know what I did? I called her husband and told him what she’d said. I grew up with Deke. Played ball with him in high school, protected his ass when he became quarterback. Maybe that’s the whole problem. I got in the habit of covering for him and it extended into my job.”

  “Don’t use that kind of language with me, young man. I still don’t see why you hid her, or why you’re so determined to find her now.”

  “Because I’m the sheriff and have been for years. It’s my job to protect people. I failed miserably with her momma and she’s dead. All these years I’ve watched her daughter, making sure she was safe and happy. And then you…”

  He bit his tongue so hard he tasted the sharp metallic tang of blood. He’d always been respectful of his mother. Then his wife had died and he’d seen another side of her. A side he hadn’t liked. Not only that, she’d seriously endangered one of the few people left he genuinely cared about.

  A cloud of dust appeared on the horizon, headed his way. Thank you, God. The information that had sent him on this particular wild-goose chase was obviously false. No way the man he knew would hide this far from civilization. The guy liked his creature comforts.

  “Mom, I’ve gotta go. Take care of Roxy, okay?”

  “As if I’d let your dog starve, John.”

  “I know. Bye.”

  A battered old pickup bounced down the rough road, jerked to and fro by the deep ruts. The hair on the back of his neck rose, and he straightened. Squinted against the sun.

  The truck passed out of the trees and the sun shone through the open driver’s window. Of all the dumb luck. Sanford unholstered his service revolver and stepped into the road, pointing through the windshield.

  “Stop!” he bellowed.

  Deke grinned. It was all the warning he got before Deke stepped on the gas and the truck roared toward him. His eyes flew wide and he made a desperate leap for the tall grass bordering the road. The hot grill of the truck slammed into the lower portion of his airborne body, throwing him to the hard dirt with such force the breath was knocked clean out of him.

  He stared at the sky overhead, so clear and blue he had to shut his eyes against the unbroken brilliance. The grind of brakes came, then the rumble of the old motor died and a door slammed. Well, shit. To come all this way and die in the dirt of the Idaho foothills seemed wrong. He thought of his sweet wife, swallowed thickly, and let his head loll to the side. Heavy footsteps vibrated the ground. Sanford held his breath and prayed harder than he had in years.

  “Well, well, well. Long way from home, Sheriff.”

  A foot nudged him, but he stayed lax and unresponsive. A knee thudded into the dirt next to his ribcage. The sunlight darkened, blotted out by Deke’s big form kneeling beside him. Please, God, don’t let him be smart enough to feel for a pulse.

  “Hell, Sanford. Who’d have thought it would end this way?”

  A heavy hand came down to rest on the middle of his chest, making him very thankful he was holding his breath. Deke had never been the brightest bulb in the pack. He had to be turning blue, which would make it look more convincing.

  “Just to be sure,” Deke muttered.

  Fireworks exploded behind Sanford’s closed eyelids and velvety darkness rose to envelope him.

  Sanford groaned and opened his eyes. Wide-open skies sprinkled liberally with stars greeted him. A huge moon hung heavy in the sky, dipping toward the mountains lining the horizon. Strugg
ling into a sitting position, he leaned to the side and heaved up everything he’d eaten in the last two weeks. When his stomach quit trying to turn wrong side out, he gingerly felt along his scalp.

  A lump the size of a lemon met his exploring fingers, and his vision tunneled, sparks lighting off in his peripheral.

  “Damn.”

  Deke never had been fond of firearms, thank God. Staggering to his feet, he looked around. Squat pine trees, sagebrush and thigh-high grass. Not another soul in sight.

  Cursing a blue streak, he walked to where he’d left his Cherokee on the side of the road and stared at the empty plot of grass. Twin rows of bent grass in the bright moonlight led him deeper into the sagebrush. Fifteen minutes later, he found his Jeep behind a small group of tangled pine trees. The keys dangled in the ignition. Deke had probably hoped some kids would take off with it.

  He gingerly slid behind the wheel, then waited until the horizon resettled. Odds were he had a concussion and shouldn’t be driving, but sticking around meant risking discovery by the wrong person. Based on the size of the bump on his head and his empty holster, Deke was now armed—if he hadn’t been before.

  Rubbing his sore ribs, he started the SUV. Thankfully, the truck had only gotten a glancing blow when it struck him. Not enough to do any real damage, but it’d probably be a good idea to get checked out at a hospital. He was no spring chick.

  Hours later, Sheriff Sanford walked out the emergency room exit and eased into his Cherokee. Sunrise tinted the sky various shades of pink. The road was deserted.

  From a hidden spot beneath the passenger seat, he removed a file folder. “GRACE DEBRY” was written on the tab. The few pages did little to improve his mood. Hospital staff had tried to talk him into checking in, wanting to watch him for twenty-four hours. He’d squashed that idea quicker than a roach skittering across the kitchen floor. Time was of the essence. Somewhere in this city, Deke roamed free and Grace lived on borrowed time.

  With the help of the Indiana police department, he’d found information about Grace in old local papers. A black and white from the sports section showed her frozen forever in time crossing the finish line in a track event she’d won her senior year of high school. Another black and white, this time of Grace as the class valedictorian at her graduation. There was a notation at the bottom saying she would attend Purdue University. That still made him grin. The tiny girl he’d cradled in his arms twenty-five years ago in Kentucky, grown up and attending a big university like that.