Tall, Dark and Dangerous Vol 1: Tall, Dark and FearlessTall, Dark and Devastating

by Suzanne Brockmann

“Is she all right?” she asked as he came in a few moments later. He closed the door behind him. And locked it.

  He stood there, a dark shape at the far end of the room. “She’s much cooler now,” he said.

  Mia crossed to the window and adjusted the blinds slightly, allowing them both privacy and some light. The dim light from the landing streamed up in a striped pattern across the ceiling, giving the ordinary room an exotic glow. She turned back to find Frisco watching her.

  “Do you have protection?” she asked.

  “Yes. It’s been a while,” he admitted, “but…yes.”

  “It’s been a while for me, too,” she said softly.

  “It’s not too late to change your mind.” He moved away from the door, allowing her clear access to make an escape. He looked away, as if he knew that his gaze had the power to imprison her.

  “Why would I want to do that?”

  He gave her another of his sad smiles. “A sudden burst of sanity?” he suggested.

  “I want to make love to you,” she said. “Is that really so insane?”

  He looked up at her. “You could have your choice of anyone. Anyone you want.” There was no self-pity in his voice or on his face. He was merely stating a fact that he believed was true.

  “Good,” she said. “Then I’ll choose you.”

  Frisco heard her soft words, but it wasn’t until she smiled and moved toward him that they fully sank in.

  Mia wanted him. She wanted him.

  The light from the outside walkway gleamed on her bare skin. Her body was even more beautiful than he’d imagined. Her breasts were full and round—not too big, but not too small, either. He ached to touch her with his hands, with his mouth, and he smiled, knowing he was going to do just that, and soon.

  But she stopped just out of his reach.

  Holding his gaze, she unfastened her shorts and let them glide down her legs.

  He’d seen her in her bathing suit just that afternoon—he was well aware that her trim, athletic body was the closest thing to his idea of perfection he’d ever seen. She wasn’t voluptuous by any definition of the word—in fact, some men might’ve found her too skinny. Her hips were slender, curving in to the softness of her waist. She was willowy and gracefully shaped, a wonderful combination of smooth muscles and soft, flowing lines.

  Frisco sat down on the edge of the bed and she turned toward him. He reached for her and she went willingly into his arms, once again straddling his lap.

  “I think this is where we were,” she murmured and kissed him.

  Frisco spun, caught in a vortex of pleasure so intense, he couldn’t keep from groaning aloud. Her skin was so smooth, so soft beneath his hands, and her kisses were near spiritual experiences, each one deeper and longer than the last, infusing him with her joyful vitality and sweet, limitless passion.

  She tugged at his T-shirt, and he broke free from their embrace to yank it up and over his head. And then she was kissing him again, and the sensation of her bare skin against his took his breath away.

  He tumbled her back with him onto the bed, pulling her down on top of him, slipping his hand between them to touch the sweet fullness of her breasts. Her nipples were taut and erect with desire and he pulled her to his mouth, laving her with his tongue, suckling first gently then harder as she gasped her pleasure, as she arched her back.

  “I like that,” she breathed. “That feels so good….”

  Her whispered words sent a searing flame of need through him and he pulled her even closer.

  His movement pressed her intimately, perfectly against his arousal and she held him there tightly for a moment. He could feel her heat, even through her panties and his shorts. He wanted to touch her, to taste her, to fill her completely. He wanted her all. He wanted her now. He wanted her forever, for all time.

  Her hair surrounded them like a sensuous, sheer, black curtain as he kissed her again, as she began to move on top of him, slowly sliding against the hard length of him. Oh, man, if she kept this up, he was going to lose it before he even got inside of her.

  “Mia—” he groaned, his hands on her hips, stilling her movement.

  She pulled back to look down at him, her eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure and desire, a heart-stoppingly sexy smile curving her lips. Flipping her long hair back over one shoulder, she reached for the button at the waistband of his shorts. She undid it quickly, deftly, then slid back, kneeling over his thighs to unfasten the zipper.

  His arousal pressed up, released from his shorts, and she covered him with her delicate hands, gazing down into his eyes, touching him through his briefs.

  She looked like some kind of extremely erotic fantasy kneeling above him, wearing those barely-there panties, the white silk contrasting perfectly with the gleaming golden color of her smooth skin. Her long, thick hair fell around her shoulders, several strands curving around her beautiful breasts.

  Frisco reached for her, wanting to touch all of her, running his hands down her arms, caressing her breasts.

  She pulled his shorts and his briefs down, watching his eyes and smiling at the pleasure on his face as her hands finally closed around him, closing her eyes in her own ecstasy as his hand tightened on her breast.

  She leaned forward and met his lips in a hard, wild kiss, then pulled away, leaving a trail of kisses from his mouth, down his neck, to his chest, as with one hand she still held him possessively.

  Her hair swept across him in the lightest of caresses and Frisco bit back a cry as her mouth moved even lower, as he nearly suffocated in a wave of exquisite, mind-numbing pleasure.

  This was incredible. This was beyond incredible, but it wasn’t what he wanted. He reached for her, roughly pulling her up and into his arms.

  “Didn’t you like that?” She was laughing—she knew damn well that he’d liked it. She knew damn well that she’d come much too close to pushing him over the edge.

  He tried to speak, but his voice came out as only a growl. She laughed again, her voice musical, her amusement contagious. He covered her mouth in the fiercest of kisses, and he could feel laughter and sheer joy bubbling up from inside of her and seeping into him, flowing through his veins, filling him with happiness.

  Happiness. Dear God, when was the last time he’d felt happy? It was odd, it was weird, it was beyond weird, because even remembering back to when he had been happy, before his injury, he had never associated that particular emotion with making love. He’d felt desire, he’d felt sexual satisfaction, he’d felt interested, amused, in control or even out of control. He’d felt confident, self-assured and powerful.

  But he’d never felt so unconditionally, so inarguably happy. He had never felt anything remotely like this.

  He’d also never made love to a woman who was, without a doubt, his perfect sexual match.

  Mia was openly, unabashedly sexy and unembarrassed by her powerful sensuality. She was unafraid to take the lead in their lovemaking. She was confident and daringly fearless and bold.

  If it hadn’t been for that glimpse she’d given him in the hospital lobby of her sensual side, he never would have expected it. She was so sweet natured, so gentle and kind. She was nice. She was the kind of woman a man would marry, content to spend the rest of his life surrounded by her quiet warmth.

  But Mia didn’t carry her quietness with her into the bedroom. And she wasn’t warm—she was incredibly, scaldingly, moltenly hot.

  His hands swept down the smooth expanse of her stomach, down underneath the slip of silk that covered her. She was hot and sleek and ready for him, just as he’d known she would be. She arched up against his fingers, pushing him deeply inside of her, pulling his head toward her and guiding his mouth to her breast.

  “I want to get on top of you,” she gasped. “Please—”

  It was an incredible turn-on—knowing this fiercely passionate woman wanted him so completely.

  He released her, rolling onto his side to reach into the top drawer of his bedside table. He rifled thro
ugh the clutter, and miraculously his hand closed on a small foil packet. He tore it open and covered himself as Mia pushed down her panties and kicked her legs free. And then she was on top of him.

  She came down, and he thrust up, and in one smooth, perfect, white-hot movement, he was inside of her.

  The look on her face was one he knew he’d remember and carry with him to his grave. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted, her head thrown back in sheer, beautiful rapture.

  He was making her feel this way.

  She opened her eyes and gazed down at him, searching his face for God knew what. Whatever she was looking for, she seemed to have found it, because she smiled at him so sweetly. Frisco felt as if his heart were suddenly too large to fit inside of his chest.

  She began to move on top of him, slowly at first. Her smile faded, but still she looked into his eyes, holding his gaze.

  “Alan…?”

  He wasn’t sure he could speak, but he moistened his lips and gave it a try. “Yeah…?”

  “This is really good.”

  “Oh, yeah.” He had to laugh. It came bubbling up from somewhere inside of him, and he recognized his laughter as belonging to her.

  She was moving faster now and he tried to slow her down. He wanted this to last forever, but at the rate they were going… But she didn’t want to slow down, and he could refuse her nothing.

  He pulled her down on top of him and kissed her frantically, fighting for his tenuous control. But he was clinging to the side of a cliff, and his fingerhold was slipping fast.

  “Alan…” She gasped his name as she clutched him tightly, and he felt the first waves of her tumultuous release.

  Frisco went over the edge. But instead of falling, he sailed upward, soaring impossibly high, higher than he’d ever gone before. Pleasure rocketed through him, burning him, scorching him, leaving him weak and stunned, shattered and depleted—yet still filled, completely and thoroughly, with happiness.

  Mia’s long, soft hair was in his face and he closed his eyes, just breathing in the sweet scent of her shampoo as he slowly floated back to earth.

  After a moment, she sighed and smiled—he could feel her lips move against his neck. He wondered if she could feel his own smile.

  Mia lifted her head, pulling her hair from his face. “Are you still alive?”

  He felt his smile get broader as he met her eyes. Hazel was his new favorite color. “Definitely.”

  “I think we can safely add ‘making love’ to the list of things that you can still do,” she said with a smile.

  His knee. Man, he hadn’t thought about his knee since he’d locked his door behind them. He still didn’t want to think about it, and he fought to hold on to the peacefulness of this moment.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe we should make sure that it wasn’t some kind of fluke. Maybe we better try it again.”

  Mia’s smile turned dangerous. “I’m ready when you are.”

  Frisco felt a surge of desire course through him, hot and sweet. “Give me a few minutes….”

  He kissed her, a slow, deep kiss that promised her unlimited pleasure.

  Mia sighed, pulling back to look at him again. “I’d love to stay, but…”

  “But…?”

  She smiled, running her fingers through his hair. “It’s after six in the morning, Alan. I don’t think it’s smart for me to be here when Natasha wakes up. She’s had enough turbulence recently in her life, without her having to worry about whether she’s got to compete with me for your time and affection.”

  Frisco nodded. Mia was probably right. He was disappointed to see her leave so soon, but he had to consider the kid.

  Mia slipped out of his arms and out of his bed. He turned onto his side to watch her gather her clothes from his floor.

  “You called me Alan again,” he said.

  She looked up at him in surprise as she slipped on her shorts. “Did I? I’m sorry.”

  “You think of me as Alan, don’t you?” he asked. “Not Frisco.”

  She zipped up her sweatshirt and then came and sat down next to him on the bed. “I like your name,” she admitted. “I’m sorry if it keeps slipping out.”

  He propped himself up on one elbow. “It slipped out a lot while we were making love.”

  “God, I hope that didn’t ruin it for you.” She was half-serious.

  Frisco laughed. “If you had called me Bob, that might’ve ruined it, but…” He touched the side of her face. “That was the first time in a long time that I’ve actually enjoyed being called Alan. And I did enjoy it.”

  She closed her eyes briefly, pressing her cheek against the palm of his hand. “Well, I certainly enjoyed calling you Alan, that’s for sure.”

  “Who knows,” he murmured, tracing her lips with his thumb. “If we keep this up, I might even get used to it.”

  Mia opened her eyes and gazed at him. “Do you…want to keep this up?” she asked. All teasing was gone from her voice, and for the first time all night, she sounded less than certain.

  Frisco couldn’t respond. It wasn’t her question that shocked him—it was his own immediate and very certain answer. Yes. God, yes.

  This was dangerous. This was extremely dangerous. He didn’t want to feel anything but pleasure and satisfaction when he thought about this woman. He didn’t want anything more than neighborly, casual, no-strings sex.

  Yet there was no way he could let her walk out of here thinking that one night had been enough. Because it hadn’t. Because the thought of her leaving simply to go home was hard enough to tolerate. He didn’t want to think about how he would feel if she ever left for good. He couldn’t think about that.

  “Yes,” he finally answered, “but I have to be honest, I’m not in any kind of place right now where I can—”

  She silenced him with a kiss. “I want to, too,” she told him. “That’s all we both need to know right now. It doesn’t have to be any more complicated than that.” But it was more complicated than that. Frisco knew just from looking at her. She cared for him. He could see it in her eyes. He felt a hot flash of elation that instantly turned to cold despair. He didn’t want her to care for him. He didn’t want her to be hurt, and if she cared too much, she would be.

  “I just want to make sure you don’t go turning this into some kind of fairy tale,” he said quietly, unable to resist touching the soft silk of her hair, praying that his words weren’t going to sting too badly. Still, a small sting now was better than a mortal wound in the long run. “I know what we’ve got going here looks an awful lot like Beauty and the Beast, but I need more than a pretty girl to turn me back into a prince—to make me whole again. I need a whole hell of a lot more to do that. And I’ve got to be honest with you, I…”

  He couldn’t say it. His throat closed on the words, but he had to make sure she understood.

  “I’m scared that the doctors are right,” he admitted. “I’m scared that my knee is as good as it’s going to get.”

  Mia’s beautiful eyes were filled with compassion and brimming with emotion. “Maybe it would be a good thing if you could admit that—if you could accept your limitations.”

  “A good thing…?” He shook his head, exhaling his disbelief. “If I give up trying, I’m condemning myself to a lifetime of this limbo. I’m not dead, but I’m not really alive, either.”

  Mia looked away from him, and he knew what she was thinking. He’d certainly seemed full of life when they’d made love, just a short time ago. But this wasn’t about sex. This wasn’t about her. “I need to know who I am again,” he tried to explain.

  Her head came up and she nearly burned him with the intensity of her gaze. “You’re Lieutenant Francisco, from San Felipe, California. You’re a man who walks with a cane and a hell of a lot of pain because of that. You’re a Navy SEAL—you’ll always be a SEAL. You were when you were eleven years old. You will be when you die.”

  She cupped his face with her hands and kissed him—a sweet
, hot kiss that made him almost believe her.

  “I haven’t really known you that long,” she continued, “but I think I know you well enough to be certain that you’re going to win. You’re not going to settle for any kind of limbo. I know you’re going to do whatever it takes to feel whole again. I know you’ll make the right choices. You are going to live happily ever after. Just don’t give up.” She kissed him again and stood up. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

  “Mia—”

  But she was already closing his door quietly behind her.

  Frisco lay back in his bed and gazed up at the ceiling. She had such faith in him. Just don’t give up. She seemed convinced he would do whatever it took to get back into active duty.

  He used to have that kind of faith, but it was worn mighty thin from time and countless failure, and now all of his doubts were showing through. And over the past several days, those doubts had grown pretty damn strong. It was becoming as clear as the daylight that was streaming in through his blinds that his recovery was not something that was in his control. He could bully himself, push himself to the edge, work himself until he dropped, but if his knee couldn’t support his weight, if the joint was unable to move in certain ways, he would be doing little more than slamming his head against a stone wall.

  But now he had Mia believing in him, believing he had what it would take to overcome his injury, to win, to be an active-duty SEAL again.

  She cared more about him than she was letting on. Frisco knew without a doubt that she wouldn’t have made love to him without feeling something for him. Was she falling in love with him? It was entirely likely—she was softhearted and kind. He wouldn’t be the first down-on-his-luck stray she took into her heart.

  Somehow he’d fooled her into thinking he was worth her time and emotion. Somehow he’d tricked her into believing his pipe dream. Somehow she’d bought into his talk of happily ever after.

  He closed his eyes. He wanted that happily ever after. He wanted to stand up from this bed and walk into the bathroom without having to use his cane. He wanted to lace up his running shoes and clock himself five miles before breakfast. He wanted to head over to the naval base and join the team for some of their endless training. He wanted to be back in the game, to be ready for anything and everything, ready to be sent out at a moment’s notice should the Alpha Squad be needed.