One Night With a Hero

by Laura Kaye

“Really? I thought that one was new. Here.” She rose and grabbed the can, then shook it next to her ear. “That’s weird.” She pressed her finger against the white nozzle twice, but nothing happened. “I’ll get a new one.” She pressed it again.

  Built-up whipped cream shot out in a long, fluffy stream and sprayed across her cheek, neck, and hair. She yelped.

  Time froze for a long instant as Brady memorized the image of Joss covered in whipped cream, her eyes and mouth wide. Then, miraculously, he burst out laughing. Deep belly laughs racked him until he had to push his chair back from the table and grasp his stomach. Her face went bright red. She narrowed her eyes and scowled at him, but even that was funny because of the whipped cream hanging off the corner of her eyelashes.

  “Sorry. I’m sorry,” he choked. He handed her a napkin. “Here.” She ripped it from his hand, setting him off again.

  Something cool hit him in the forehead.

  His laughter died in his chest and he gaped up at her as whipped cream sagged across his eye.

  And then he was in motion.

  Brady dove for her and she screamed and bolted into the kitchen.

  He grabbed her around the waist and hiked her against him. “Gimme that,” he growled, reaching around for the can.

  “No,” she squealed through her laughter. A stream of whipped cream covered his arm.

  “You little…” He made another grab and ended up with a handful of soft, warm breast. His cock came alive against her squirming body.

  She gasped and attempted to twist away, sending off another stream of whipped cream that landed in both of their hair. They were laughing and panting so hard their words were more gibberish than not.

  Funny as it was, there was no denying that his body was also reading something else into their horseplay. Something that involved cleaning her off with his tongue.

  He swiped his thumb across her breast and groaned at the feeling of her rigid nipple pushing against the cotton that separated them. “Joss,” he groaned, pushing his hips into her lower back.

  She moaned and ground back.

  He’d so not intended this. But, damn.

  His mouth found a line of cream on her neck and sucked. Delicious. Her natural taste and scent of peaches mixed with the sugar to create an absolutely irresistible treat. “Even sweeter now.” Her head sagged back against his shoulder and the feeling of her melting into him made his jeans painfully tight. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered before dragging his tongue through the cream on her jaw.

  “I can’t.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to.”

  Brady growled against her skin, her words taunting him to give in.

  He traced his fingers down her belly and Joss moved her arms to let him. When he removed the Reddi-wip from her grip and sat it on the counter, she grinned over her shoulder at him. He devoured her in a kiss, loving the sweet enthusiasm of her mouth, the slip and slide of the little metal piercing, as he undid the button and zipper on her shorts.

  Yeah, he was going there all right. And, suddenly, her tongue wasn’t the only thing he needed to taste.

  He settled his hands on the waistband of her cut-offs. “Okay?”

  She nodded her face against his.

  Her jeans and panties fell to the floor. Together, they kicked them away.

  “Turn around.” When she did, he tugged at the hem of her tank. “Take this off for me, too?”

  She only broke eye contact when the shirt passed over her head. Damn if he didn’t feel her gaze right down into the tension filling his balls.

  She dropped her bra from her shoulders, then stood nude before him. Long, tan legs, chocolate brown triangle of hair at the hidden apex. Flared hips perfect for gripping. A softly rounded belly curving up to full breasts just begging to be sucked. Her wild mane of hair was dampened here and there with whipped cream and just covered the swallow above her heart, but he could still tell that the colors of the tat were striking against her skin.

  The room spun. “Jesus, Joss. You’re stunning.” He tossed his shirt to the floor, closed the space between them, and slanted his mouth over hers.

  Her hands curled around his neck and pulled him in harder, tighter. Satisfaction roared through him. Sonofabitch. What was happening here? At least he wasn’t the only one who felt this intense need, this unrelenting desire. What he didn’t understand was why it all felt so natural between them. He’d never felt anything like it. Never allowed himself to get close enough, to stay long enough, to let himself do so.

  Refusing to get caught up any deeper in his head, Brady pushed her back one step, then another, and lifted her to sit on the single stretch of counter without an overhead cabinet. Joss gasped and her nails dug into his skin, setting off a yearning to feel the pinch of her grip over every inch of his body.

  He pulled back and met her gaze, loving the haze of lust that left her green eyes just short of focused, her lips wet and swollen, her chest heaving. “Lean back.” He pressed a hand against the pale skin of her stomach. “I want you on my tongue.”

  Brady wrapped his arms under her thighs and lifted her so she sat nearer to the edge, then he dropped to his knees and placed a series of soft, sucking kisses on the insides of her thighs.

  When her legs were shaking where they lay over his shoulders, he met her heavy-lidded gaze and licked straight up through the center of her. Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open on a whimper that had him straining against the fly of his jeans. And damn it all to hell but she was salty-sweet on his tongue. He’d thought of tormenting her with unending slow licks of whipped cream from her pussy, but in truth he thought the addition would detract from the intoxicating smell and taste of her. All warm and rich and female musk.

  Supporting her lower back with one hand, he used his other to open her folds to his tongue’s exploration. He alternated long licks with quick, firm strokes, and penetrating sweeps of tongue with deep sucking draws on the swollen nerves of her clit. His brain was cataloging those things that made her cry out or her hips jerk or her hand press down harder on his head. And even though he knew down deep he didn’t need that information if this wasn’t going to happen again—and it shouldn’t, it really fucking shouldn’t if he knew what was right by her and smart by him—he couldn’t stop himself from memorizing every inch of her so he could please her again and again.

  “Oh, God,” she rasped. “I need you.”

  “Come on my tongue, sweetness, and you can have me any way you want.”

  She moaned as he concentrated fast, flat, hard licks against her clit. He looked up her body and found her beautiful face. Eyes closed, mouth open, expression frozen between pleasure and pain. Her breath caught, hips jerked, thighs went rigid.

  Her eyes flew open as her head wrenched back, a long, low moan rolling out of her as she came. He lapped up her pleasure and drank it down, masculine pride surging through him and tightening his balls. Brady was on his feet and kicking off his jeans as fast as his painful erection would let him.

  And whaddya know, the counter was the perfect height. God bless America.

  He grasped himself and dragged the head of his cock through her folds, then froze. “Oh shit. Condom.”

  “Oh. Um. I don’t have any. I haven’t needed—” A blush spread over the flush still pinking her cheeks from the orgasm.

  He shouldn’t have been so happy to hear her recent sex life hadn’t required a stash of Trojans. Especially since it meant they were high and dry at the moment. Unless he got dressed and limped next door. Urgent arousal kicked him in the lower back and had him curling his hips into hers.

  “I’m on the pill though, so I’m safe. And, well, I’m clean. I’ve only had two partners, and both were long-term relationships.”

  Brady leaned in and kissed her. This shit was never easy to talk about, and he respected that she didn’t hem and haw about it. He leaned his forehead against hers, which nestled his cock against her wet heat. An odd feeling of need that had nothing to do with his l
ibido had him whispering against the soft skin of her face. “Shit, Joss. I’ve never done this without a condom.” He cleared his throat. “And I just had a physical and got a clean bill of health when I returned stateside in June.”

  “We don’t have to, it’s okay.”

  Dammit. It wasn’t even a question of trusting her. It was him he didn’t trust. It was him he could never trust. He was his father’s son, after all—the anger problems that had earned him a one-way trip off the front lines proved that—and there was no way he was ever burdening a child with that kind of legacy the way Alyssa had been. So he’d never before given going bareback a second thought.

  She pressed a soft kiss to his lips and gasped. Cupping his cheek, she stroked her tongue over his lips. “I taste good on you,” she whispered.

  Holy mother of— He rocked his hips, once, twice, sliding his rigid length against the velvet heat of her pussy. Glancing down, he watched himself and couldn’t deny that what he really wanted to see was his cock disappearing into her, filling her, claiming her as his.

  His? Where the hell was this possessive streak coming from? He never got all “you are mine” over his lays because he never, ever felt that way—his job didn’t allow him the time and his nature didn’t allow him the inclination. But, Jesus, it was there and then some with her.

  Desire drowned out the confusion roiling in his gut. “I want to, Joss.” He met her gaze, open and affectionate.

  “I want you to, too. And I trust you.”

  He frowned, even as he took himself in hand. “You shouldn’t,” he whispered.

  She pushed his fingers out of the way and guided the head of his cock inside her slit. “Saying stuff like that just proves I can.” She leaned back against the wall and opened her legs to him, allowing his hips to come in hard and tight.

  Cupping one of her knees under each of his arms, Brady groaned as he bottomed out, balls caressing the rounded cheeks of her ass. Skin-on-skin, the feeling was so much more intense, more raw, more real that he had to pause and breathe away the urge to plow into her, rush through it, chase what he knew would be an incredible orgasm so fast that it would be over before he’d memorized every moment of it.

  “Does it feel different?”

  “Hell yeah. It’s insane, Joss. You feel so fucking good I’m afraid to move.”

  The corner of her mouth lifted in a small, sexy smile that had something in his chest stirring, too. “Move, Brady. I need you to.”

  As soon as he did, his brain went off-line and he was all sensation. The tight, white-hot glide of his cock in her slick channel. The soft quiver of her thighs in his arms. The soundtrack of her panting and moans mingling with his groans and rough exhalations.

  If they’d have been anywhere but the kitchen, he’d have taken her to the floor, laid her out, and sprawled himself atop her. He wanted to feel the rub and press of their bodies moving and her arms and legs wrapped around him. He wanted his face buried in all that luscious hair. And he sure as hell wanted her nails marking his back.

  Next time, his mind whispered insidiously.

  There won’t be any damn “next time.” He shook his head, willing the combatants in his brain away. Just this one time. Let me have this.

  Whatever else happened, Brady didn’t want this to end without feeling Joss come around his cock. Propping one of her legs straight against his chest freed a hand to pleasure her, and he reveled in the gasping moan she released when he circled his fingers over his clit.

  “Never come twice.” She shook her head. “Never…”

  “You sure? Because I love a challenge.”

  She half moaned/half laughed, then bit her lip. “Try it harder,” she whispered.

  “What, sweetness? Fucking or rubbing?”

  “Both.”

  He nodded. “Gimme your hand.” He placed her fingers on top of her clit. “Rub yourself for me. Show me what you like.”

  She peered up at him from under her eyelashes, and something told him she’d never touched herself in front of a man before.

  His gaze dropped to where they were joined as he held up his end of the bargain and hammered into her, his grip tight on her thighs to absorb most of the impact, his dog tags bouncing against his chest. “So hot, seeing my dick in your pussy while you touch yourself. Just thinking about you getting off again is making my blood pound.”

  She rubbed fast little circles over her swollen nub. Her eyes clenched in tight concentration.

  And then the tension exploded behind his balls and he was coming, pulsing, pouring himself into a woman for the first time in his life. Into Joss.

  “Don’t stop,” she moaned, her fingers flying.

  “Jesus,” he ground out at the incredibly erotic sight, at the fact that he was going light-headed at the sheer force of his orgasm.

  And then her pussy clamped down on him over and over and Joss unleashed a high-pitched moan that started low in her throat. Brady collapsed against her and swallowed her cry in a hot, wet, worshipful kiss. When her body finally calmed, his thighs were shaking.

  “Holy shit,” he breathed against her lips.

  Running on pure instinct now, Brady stepped back and helped her down. Her knees went soft when she hit the floor, so he scooped her into his arms and made his way through the house and upstairs to where her bathroom should be. She was warm and pliant in his arms and the sensation of her nuzzling into the crook of his neck shouldn’t have felt as good as it did.

  The monster of his ancient anger stalked back and forth at the gates of his mind. But he was ignoring that motherfucker for all he was worth.

  Because, since he never allowed himself this—any of this, really—he had no idea how fucking good it could all feel, right down to her arms holding him.

  He settled her on her feet against the wall next to the shower and reached in to adjust the water.

  “Get in,” he said when it was warm enough, his voice like gravel. “I’ll wash you.”

  With a shy smile he found ridiculously endearing given their history so far, she stepped into the tub. A tattoo of a dozen tiny black birds took flight across her back, as if a flock was suddenly startled and rose into the air one by one, from the middle of her spine and disappearing under the length of her hair.

  He stepped in behind her and traced the line of birds, pushing her hair over her shoulder so he could follow them to the nape of her neck, where they turned into a spray of colorful stars that ended just behind her ear. “This is beautiful.” Something about the appearance of those rising, dark birds ascending to the stars tugged at his gut and felt inexplicably familiar.

  Warm, foreign pressure filled his chest. Goddammit. How could a feeling both ease his soul and trigger his fight-or-flight response?

  “Thank you.”

  He turned her so the shower could wet her hair. “Tilt your head back,” he said. And then he washed her, first her hair, then her body. And against all the lives he’d saved and terrorists he’d helped take out, somehow this moment, this connection, felt just as significant. The realization of what belonging felt like—of what others had but he never could—squeezed his heart in his chest until it was hard to take a deep breath.

  So as he rinsed the suds off her tired, supple body, he allowed himself to be in this moment with her, to be owned by it, to allow himself this one exception to the cardinal rule. Because it could never happen again.

  And, neighbors or not, from now on, he had to stay away from Joss Daniels.

  Chapter Six

  When she was dressed again, Joss went downstairs to join Brady, who had gone down a few minutes before to retrieve his clothes from where they’d left them in the kitchen.

  She was nearly high on endorphins and damn happy about it. Geez. Her joints were loose, her muscles were exhausted, and her belly was full. She could probably nap the rest of the day and be entirely content.

  She entered the kitchen and found him fully dressed and stacking dishes in the sink. “You didn’t have to c
lean up.” Stopping behind him, she wrapped her arms around his stomach. “But thank you.”

  “The least I could do,” he said in a low voice. He twisted in her arms and stared at her a long moment, his features tight.

  Her gut gave a weird little squeeze, but then he leaned down and kissed her, softly, in a way that made her feel adored, and the niggling sensation disappeared.

  “Thanks for everything,” he said.

  She grinned. “Any time.” And boy did she mean it. Any day that started with fantastic waffles and hot sex ranked right up there in her book. And the fact that it was with Brady, this kind, intense, and passionate man, well, that made it all the better.

  He stroked his knuckles over her cheek and brushed his thumb along her bottom lip. His gaze made her think of reluctant good-byes. He dropped his hand and stepped away, clearly intent on leaving.

  You’re overreacting. She walked him to the door and forced cheerfulness into her voice. “So,” she said, “if you need any neighborhood recommendations or help getting your place set up, just let me know.”

  “Yeah.” He reached for the handle and looked over his shoulder at her as he opened the door. “Bye, Joss.” His emotionless gaze scanned her face and he nodded.

  “See ya,” she said, her stomach doing that weird squeezy thing again. She gave a last wave as he stepped off her stoop and closed the door behind him.

  Alarm bells rang in her head. After the incredible morning they’d spent together, followed by the amazing time the night before, she knew she was probably acting ridiculous. Still… Maybe she shouldn’t have hugged him at the sink. She just felt so comfortable with him. It didn’t make any sense, really, but there it was.

  She had no idea what they were—or if they were anything at all. But even if all they ever became was friendly neighbors who had occasional crazy hot sex, it would be awesome. So. Everything was fine. Don’t go neurotic, Joss. Right. Good plan.

  Intent on some normalcy, she picked up her cell phone and dialed Christina. No matter what, the past twenty-four hours called for some serious best friend time.