Lock 'N' Load (Federal K-9 Series)

by Tee O'Fallon

  “Thank you, Senator.” Foster turned his attention to Governor Hughes. “Governor, does that change your position in the matter?”

  “No, Bob. It doesn’t.” Governor Hughes shook his head. “I am just as committed to supporting our neighbors to the north as I was the first day I hit the campaign trail.”

  “Senator, Governor,” Foster said, nodding to both candidates, “I know you both have extremely busy campaign schedules during the next month. I’d like to thank you for taking the time this evening to be on our show.”

  Matt killed the volume, and when he began tapping his fingers on his thigh, Trista suddenly noticed that he’d fully stretched out on her bed. That, and his dark brows were drawn together, his lips compressed into a thin line.

  “You thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked. Iqaluit.

  Turning onto his side to face her, he began absently stroking her bared thigh, sending fiery tendrils licking their way to her core. Beneath the thick robe, her nipples pebbled, and she shivered.

  “What I’m thinking,” he said, staring over her shoulder as if he didn’t really see her, “is that for a tiny little town in one of the most remote and bitterly cold parts of the world, Iqaluit has become one hell of a burning hot topic. I find myself wondering why the Canadians, the Russians, both U.S. presidential candidates, and the rezidentura in a black net chat room can’t seem to stop talking about it.”

  Trista nodded, urging him to continue, trying not to think about what his fingers were doing to her thigh.

  “According to the chat,” Matt continued, “George found out someone is ‘not who he says he is,’ and George had to be stopped before the public found out. Found out what, is the big question, along with who that other person in the chat room was that had to leave within the hour for Iqaluit. Then, a week after you overheard that conversation, George is murdered, and someone has tried to kill you twice.”

  As dire as their conversation was, Trista had difficulty keeping her head in the game. All she could think about was Matt’s hand on her thigh. “We don’t know what the reporter knew,” she said, “but we do know he was on to a big story, which may or may not be connected to this forty-year-old murder he was researching.”

  “What we just heard about the Arctic could be totally unrelated,” Matt said. “Still, we can’t discount the possibility that this is all connected. But it’s only a theory.”

  “Agreed.” She appreciated how his sharp brain was totally tracking with her own thoughts. “Anything else?”

  His fingers stilled on her thigh. His lips parted, his nostrils flaring right before he swallowed. “Yeah. We’d better get some sleep. We have an early wake-up call.”

  Without another word, he rose and killed the lights, then got into the other bed, still wearing his jeans. Disappointment flooded her. For a moment there, she thought—hoped—he’d kiss her again.

  With a soft sigh, she closed the laptop and headed into the bathroom, stopping along the way to give Sheba a good-night pat on the head. Just before closing the door, she glanced over to see Matt lying on his side, facing the wall away from her bed. She quickly brushed her teeth, then splashed cold water on her face to cool her libido. After patting her face dry with a fluffy white towel, she opened the door and nearly screamed. She would have, but Matt wrapped his arms around her and covered her mouth with his.

  His lips were soft, sliding gently back and forth across hers until she opened her mouth to him. He slipped his tongue inside, holding the back of her head. Warmth spread from where his fingers touched her scalp, all the way down her neck, to her breasts, and lower, until her insides clenched with anticipation. When he lifted his head, both their chests were heaving.

  In the near darkness of the room, he gazed down at her, his dark eyes glowing from the flickering TV’s light. “Trista.” He cupped her face, skimming his thumb over her swollen lips. “You are truly beautiful, and sexy, and you’re driving me up the fucking wall.”

  “N-no, I’m not.” Although he certainly made her feel like she was.

  To her chagrin, he chuckled. “You just spent the entire day with me and didn’t stammer once. Why now?”

  “I’m n-nervous.” In reality, she was, but that wasn’t why she’d begun stammering again. It was because she was coming to like him. Really like him, and that’s what always happened whenever she liked a guy. With Matt, it was like that part of her went into hyperdrive.

  She wanted him as she’d wanted no other man in her entire life.

  “You’ve got nothing to be nervous about. Your body is a perfect, amazing little package waiting for me to unwrap it.” He tugged on the belt holding her robe closed, then pushed it off her shoulders, letting it slide to the floor. His gaze lowered to her silk-covered breasts, his jaw clenching. “This nightie looks great on you. I knew it would.”

  Unable to wait a second longer for his touch, she gripped his wrists, placing his hands on her breasts. A muscle on the side of his face flexed as he held them in his incredibly large hands. Beneath the silky fabric, her nipples tightened, and he rubbed his flat palm over them, until they jutted sharply against the thin material.

  Reaching around her, he slid his hand beneath her nightie to her buttocks, then picked her up, fastening his mouth over one nipple, catching it in his teeth. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist, arching backward, allowing him to bite at her other sensitized peak.

  “I don’t deserve you.” His voice was husky with a definitive hint of self-reproach. “But I need to have you.”

  He carried her to the bed, lowering himself gently on top of her, taking some of his weight on his elbows. She tugged at his arms until he pressed fully on her, loving the feel of his bare chest against her.

  “Honey, I’m going to crush you,” he said with a note of worry in his voice.

  In answer, she pulled his head down, and this time she took control of the kiss until they were both breathless, their chests heaving, his hands beneath her nightie, stroking her until she was writhing beneath him. She wanted more. She wanted him inside her, stroking her in her most private places.

  She shoved her hands beneath the waistband of his jeans and under his tight jockey shorts, grabbing and kneading his taut buttocks, pressing him firmly against that part of her that craved him inside her.

  He pulled her to a sitting position then peeled off her nightie, leaving her clad only in matching panties. In another moment, they were gone, too, pulled slowly down her legs as he stripped her bare. With heavy lids, his gaze roved her nakedness, his throat working. His hands came back to her breasts, stroking and massaging, until he lowered his head and sucked one nipple into his mouth.

  A tight little moan escaped her lips as she held his head tighter to her breast. He shifted to her other nipple, plucking with his teeth, rolling it around with his tongue until she was moaning even louder.

  His hand slid down her rib cage to between her thighs, urging her legs apart. As his finger penetrated her, she practically arched off the bed with a little scream that was swallowed up when he kissed her again. What he was doing to her…the incredible sensations…were like sparks exploding across every inch of her skin. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get close enough to him…

  Slipping her hand between their bodies, she caressed his jean-clad erection, rubbing her hand up and down until he let out a harsh breath.

  “Matt, please,” she whispered against his neck.

  He rose from the bed, and she watched, completely captivated as he stripped off his jeans and jockey shorts. His long, thick erection jutted proudly from between heavily muscled thighs, and for one panicky moment, she worried how he would fit inside her without splitting her in two. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed.

  I want this. It’s time. And he’s the one.

  She watched him grab a thin square packet from his overnight bag, rip it open, and deftly roll on a condom. He lowered on top of her, positioning his erection between her thighs, nudging gently at he
r opening.

  Dragging her heels up and down the backs of his legs, her hands roved the broad expanse of his back, kneading and stroking the coiled muscles. She bit at his chest and was rewarded with a deep groan of pleasure.

  “You are so damned sexy.” He kissed her mouth. “You know just what to do to drive me absolutely crazy.” His lips trailed down her chin to her neck as he palmed one of her full breasts. “Beautiful. I could spend all night feasting on these.”

  His words were like an injection of pure lust to her veins. Never before had she felt truly beautiful, but he made her believe it. Beneath his heated gaze and expert touch, her body responded in ways that both shocked and fascinated her.

  Her skin was on fire. The craving deep inside her womb clenched with an unsatisfied need so powerful she thought she’d scream if he didn’t take her right now.

  She writhed against him, urging him to give her what she so desperately needed.

  “You are so, so wet. I love it.” He nudged his erection at her core, pushing gently, rocking into her until her tight walls began to relax.

  Not enough.

  Wrapping her legs tightly around his waist, she surged her hips upward while at the same time gripping his ass, pulling him fully inside her. She screamed in pain, although the moment was fleeting.

  “What the hell?” He jerked his head up, his eyes burning brightly as his big body shook, and he quickly withdrew. “Trista!” Above her, his breath came in heavy gasps, warm against her face as he stared down at her. In his eyes were shock and regret.

  “I’m sorry.” Unable to meet his pained look a second longer, she covered her eyes. “I should have t-told you.”

  “Yeah, you should have.” He tugged her hands from her eyes, but she squeezed them shut. “Look at me. Look at me.”

  Reluctantly, she did, fearing what he would say.

  I’ve ruined this. What was meant to be a special moment in my life, I’ve turned to shit. Shit, shit, shit.

  “I’m no good at this.” Hot tears pricked at her eyes, humiliation heating her cheeks. She shoved at his chest, but he didn’t budge. “I was a thirty-three-year-old virgin, and I can see by the look on your face you’re disgusted. Let me up.”

  “No, that’s not it.” He shook his head, his eyes filled with disbelief. “Honey, what I don’t get is how? You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever been with. Your passion is so uninhibited it floors me. There is nothing about you that disgusts me. It’s just the opposite. Everything about you turns me on like no one ever has. Do you hear me?”

  She couldn’t believe it, but there was such sincerity in his eyes. He turned onto his side, taking her with him. With gentle fingers, he wiped away her tears, then tipped her chin up with his forefinger. “Why haven’t you ever made love before?”

  Hesitating, she took a deep breath. He’d bared his soul, now it was time for her to reciprocate. “When I was five, my parents began to suspect my aptitude was off the charts. They took me to a facility that confirmed their suspicions. As a five-year-old, none of that meant anything to me until I started grade school.”

  “The other kids were intimidated by you.” Matt’s brows bunched as he scrutinized her intently.

  “Understatement.” Suddenly shy, she tugged the sheet up, intending to cover her breasts, but he stopped her.

  “Too late for that now.” He grinned. “I’ve already seen everything there is to see. Go on.”

  “It only worsened with time. In high school, it seemed like half the kids were mean, calling me a brainiac, a geek, or a computer-head. The other half wanted nothing to do with me. I never had any real friends until I was hired on with the agency.”

  “No boyfriends?”

  “No, not really.” She shook her head, dismally recalling the loneliness of her teenage years. “As soon as I met a boy I liked, I began to sta—” She clamped her mouth shut, pressing her lips together. Admitting to herself how much she liked Matt was one thing, but telling him was an entirely different matter. She wasn’t ready for that.

  “Stammer,” he said, finishing her word for her. “So, you like me?” A boyish grin tipped the corners of his mouth as he began trailing a finger along her jawline.

  She giggled. “Well, m-maybe a little.”

  “Just a little?” His grin widened.

  When she punched his shoulder, his talented fingers instinctively found that ticklish spot on her waist, and she giggled louder, trying unsuccessfully to twist out of his grasp.

  When he began caressing her breast, she leaned into his hand and held back a little moan. She loved how he touched her. How he kissed her and made her feel all tingly.

  Matt pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t stammer once when you were talking to Jake Sorensen, or any of the guys back at the house. Does that mean you don’t like them?”

  “No, of course I like them.” Point of fact, she thought they were terrific. “I just don’t like them in that way.”

  “What way is that?” He pressed his lips to her neck.

  As he began nibbling on her ear, she closed her eyes and shivered. “Like I want to tear off their clothes and jump their bones.” Gasping, she snapped open her eyes. “Oh, shit. Did I really just say that?”

  He laughed openly, something he rarely did and the sight of him enjoying a moment of unreserved happiness made her heart squeeze. She wanted him to experience more of that. Contrary to what he believed, he did deserve it.

  “I love it when you go all truck driver on me. It turns me on.” For a moment, they both laughed, then he stopped. “Why me?” he asked, sobering.

  “Because I—” Because she didn’t just like him. Even she knew the signs. I’m falling in love with him. But she couldn’t say that. “Because I thought it was time, and I wanted you to be the one.” Not an outright lie. Just a shitload of omission.

  Matt brushed the backs of his knuckles down her cheek, then rolled her onto her back. “I’m honored you chose me to be your first.” Then he kissed her deeply, settling between her thighs.

  This time, when he entered her, there was no pain, only the smooth slide of him as he slipped inside her moist walls. Throughout it all, he kissed her, murmuring sexy words that once again had her writhing with pleasure, digging her nails into his back and shoulders, reveling in the flex and play of all those muscles as he rocked into her.

  Pressure built in her womb, intensifying until she could no longer keep her eyes open. She gripped his ass, and with each stroke, pulled him in deeper. He picked up his pace, pumping faster, shoving them higher up on the mattress.

  “Baby,” he breathed against her ear. “Baby, let it go. Jesus, let it go.”

  Electric pulses shot from her belly outward, and she arched upward, crying out as the orgasm spiraled through her body. She clung to Matt as the aftershocks crashed over her, one after another until she was gasping for air.

  With his arms wrapped around her back, he pushed deeper inside her and went rigid. He groaned, then spasmed against her.

  They stayed that way, pressed together with him still inside her as their breathing slowed. Minutes later, he withdrew, then picked her up and carried her into the bathroom. He set her on her feet while he adjusted the shower spray, holding out his hand while she stepped in. Picking up a washcloth, he began gently washing away the thin smears of blood on her upper thighs, his muscles bunching and flexing as he washed her ever so gently. When he was finished, he proceeded to soap up and scrub her entire body clean.

  Trista closed her eyes and held on to his waist for balance as she gave in to the sensation of his hands sliding over her slick skin and the heady emotions cradling her like a warm mist.

  She was thirty-three, ancient for a virgin, and until now, it had been an embarrassment she’d kept to herself. But tonight…in the warmth of the shower and the safety of Matt’s arms…she was glad she’d saved herself for someone special. And he was special. She knew that with every fiber of her being.

  Just as she knew th
at with every moment she spent with him, she was falling more deeply, and more desperately, in love.

  Chapter Twenty

  Matt didn’t know what woke him. The sound of Sheba’s light snores on the floor beside the bed or Trista’s warm, wispy breath against his neck.

  She lay on her belly, snuggled against his side with her head on his shoulder and her arm draped across his chest. Strands of her thick, honey-blond hair tickled his chin, and he couldn’t resist rubbing a few locks between his fingers.

  Smiling to himself, he wanted to laugh. He was all but sandwiched by the two females in his life. Trista on the bed, Sheba beside them on the floor. After making love to Trista again, he’d fallen into such a deep, dreamless sleep, he hadn’t heard Sheba get up to change locations.

  Trista shifted, sliding her hand to his abdomen, making his cock begin to harden beneath the sheet. He wanted her again, but being that this was her first time, she’d be sore. He didn’t want to hurt her.

  Why she’d chosen him was something he couldn’t wrap his brain around. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he didn’t deserve her, and he hadn’t even known she was a virgin then. Finding out had not only shocked the hell out of him, it had humbled him. No other woman had ever made him feel special, but she had. Her virginity was a precious gift, one he would treasure for the rest of his life.

  Making love to her had been mind-blowing. She’d surprised him with how sensual and instinctive she was. After showering, he’d let her explore his body with her hands, lips, teeth, and tongue, loving every moment. For a virgin, her inherent sense of just how to drive his body crazy with need was beyond amazing. Then it hit him. He was thirty-six years old, but he’d never really made love to a woman. Until now.