Lacey.
It probably wasn’t even her real name.
What did he actually know about her?
Not a damn thing.
He halted just outside the tent. Maybe it wouldn’t rain.
The first big drops peppered his back. Well, that doomed that hope. Shit. It was definitely going to rain.
A scowl darkened his face as he tore at the flaps.
“Coming in,” he announced and entered the tent.
Clenching his fists in frustration, Danger froze the instant he straightened and saw Lacey. She stood across from him holding a towel in front of her. It didn’t take long to realize she was naked behind that minute barrier. Her eyes were big gold pools of light. Her breasts rose and fell behind the terry cloth.
Danger swallowed hard. His gaze zeroed in on the rounded fullness he knew lay there. “Dammit, Lacey. I said I was coming in.”
“I know.”
Then she dropped the towel. It floated to the nylon floor and landed near her bare feet. His gaze followed its descent and for some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes off her toes. Those intriguing, bright pink toenails held his attention. Oh, shit. Now he knew he’d lost his mind. He’d never had a fetish for toes, painted or otherwise.
Slowly, he slid his gaze up past her slender ankles, her knees, up her thighs where a row of healing stitches followed the line of her inner thigh. He settled his gaze on the intriguing nest of honey-blonde curls. Danger swallowed hard before moving on to the concave of her belly, the tiny turned in navel, past the little mole just beneath her right breast he’d discovered when he’d stripped her before and finally to her up tilted breasts where her pink-as-strawberries nipples tempted and invited.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispered.
Lacey stood there, head bowed, her skin flushed bright pink.
“Sweetheart, look at me.”
She raised her head, her eyes questioning.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about. You’re beautiful.”
Danger reached for the top button on his jeans.
“Let me,” she whispered, her cheeks pink and a hint of shyness in her voice.
She moved to stand in front of him, a little hesitant. “I want to undress you. I want to touch you all over, kiss you all over.”
His breath caught somewhere between his lungs and his throat and no words formed on his tongue. He nodded certain he’d never be able to speak again. Her fingers trembled against his belly. She fumbled with the button on his jeans, looked up, and licked her lips. “It’s already unbuttoned.”
He nodded, his lungs aching for air.
She moved to the next button working it through its slot. The backs of her fingers brushed his erection. Jesus, if she took much longer he was going to die. He gripped her shoulders.
“Lacey.” He growled her name.
“What?” Her eyes widened. “What?” she whispered again.
He lowered his head and anchored his mouth against hers. She shuddered. Her fingers curled into his biceps and she leaned into the kiss, accepted the penetration of his tongue, a hot, wet mating with hers.
“Mmm.” Lacey’s eyes fluttered shut as she savored the warm sensations flowing through her. He nibbled at her mouth with a leisurely thoroughness that intoxicated. There was no hurry. No need to rush. He simply relished the delicious taste of her mouth.
He tightened his hands on her waist and tugged her closer. There was no space now between their bodies. Hardness pressed against softness. Male against female. Invitation given and accepted.
Danger moved restlessly. He stroked the pads of his thumbs across her nipples, skimmed his fingers down her back and cupped the curves of her buttocks. He loved the feel of her skin, so soft and smooth beneath his fingertips.
“Touch me, Princess,” he whispered against her mouth. He worked off his jeans and groaned. “I’m dying for your touch. I need to feel your hands on me.”
He captured her hand and brought it to the hard, swollen ridge pressed tautly against her belly. He looked down at her slender fingers wrapped around his aching cock. The broad head of his penis filled her hand. He heard her stunned gasp at his size. He was thick, too thick for her fingers to reach completely around.
“I don’t think we’ll fit,” she said. She licked her lips and eyed his jutting cock with doubt. “You—you’re so—”
“We’ll fit,” he whispered against her ear and closed his hand over hers, guiding her in a smooth stroke of his cock. “I’ll go easy, we’ll fit.’’
“You kissed me,” she said and cupped the spongy sac at the base of his burgeoning cock. “After the little incident with the rattlesnake, you kissed me. I haven’t been the same since.”
He laughed softly. “Yeah? Mmm, don’t stop, sweetheart. That feels good.”
“Twice!” she accused, sounding a little breathless. “You kissed me twice, maybe even three times. I lost count.” She gently squeezed the nuggets, halted the stroking that was driving him insane and walked a fingertip up the endless length of his shaft.
“Yeah,” he breathed huskily. “So I did, Princess, but those weren’t kisses. Not real kisses and certainly not the kind I want to give you. Think of them as appetizers.” He moaned as she explored the tip of his shaft smoothing a finger over the head and catching the pearly drop of fluid there. “And my appetite has barely been whetted.”
She caught her bottom lip with her teeth in that sexy way that drove him nuts.
He gasped as she explored his cock with hesitant fingers. His eyes darkened with warning. “Harder,” he instructed. “I won’t break. And if you expect gentle, little cat, you’ve chosen the wrong man.” He took a deep, ragged breath. “I’m not gentle, Lacey. I don’t know how to be. Tenderness is something I’ve lacked in my life for more years than I care to remember.” He moaned, moved against her hand like a rising swell. “I’m as savage as I look. I like my sex hot. Hard. And deep.”
Lacey swallowed at the masculine hardness that suddenly burgeoned against her palm. A hint of red tinged his high cheek bones, but he made no move to stop her as she worked his penis faster in a steady rhythm.
“Be very sure you want this, little cat, because if I touch you, make you mine, there’s no going back. I won’t go back.”
“I don’t want to go back. I want you; so much I can barely stand it. Make me yours, Danger.”
His breath chugged out in a long, slow hiss. “Jesus, Lacey, I’m giving you the chance to say no. Take it now, while I can still stop.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m not asking you to stop.”
“Good. Because I won’t, I told you, I won’t. If we start this, we finish it. I’ve waited forever for you to come into my life. I’m not going back to just existing and marking time on the calendar.”
“Shut up and kiss me,” she breathed.
He closed his fingers around her wrist, halted her stroking. “No more or it will all be over.”
A spasm gripped Lacey’s womb as his hardness throbbed urgently against her belly. God, she didn’t know she could ache like this. Need like this. She searched the charcoal depths of his eyes. He breathed quickly, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
Whatever he thought or felt, he was on the edge of breaking.
He slowly slid his hands up her shoulders, and very carefully, as though he thought she was too fragile to handle, drew her closer. “You shatter my control, Lacey. I have to taste you,” he whispered. “You’re a fever in my blood.”
He dipped his head and claimed her mouth. There was only this moment, this man, his mouth on hers, the whisper stroke of his tongue, and the passion that rocked her to her toes. White-hot fire clawed a path down her spine, curled its flames inside her belly and settled into a hot, bubbly simmer of desire. It lingered there for mere seconds before the avalanche of smoldering need spread. She squirmed when the moist heat pooled between her thighs.
He seduced. She surrendered.
And they
gave in to the heat that consumed them.
Her knees trembled.
Lacey anchored her hands against his waist but the sensation of losing control and free-falling didn’t go away. She plummeted. Down. Down. Slowly, he released her mouth and the magic let go of its hold over her. She opened her eyes, blinked and drew in the breath her lungs so desperately needed.
She didn’t know how or when he’d accomplished it, but they were on their knees facing each other. She barely had time to catch her breath before he skimmed a trail of butterfly kisses down her neck to her breasts. He closed his mouth around a pebble-hard nipple and drew deeply. Her womb clenched. She wanted to be closer. She ached to be closer.
Lacey explored the sculpted planes of his hard chest, thrilled to the tactile sensation of his heated flesh beneath her fingertips. She drew her nails across his nipples, a teasing scrape that caused the flat buds to tighten. He shuddered and reclaimed her mouth. Hot. Hungry. Thorough.
She loved his kisses. Like the man, they were a little untamed, a little desperate, packed with a lot of heat in the sexy, one-two punch he delivered. Oh yeah, the man’s mouth was dynamite and he knew how to use his teeth and tongue. In truth, he could melt the polar icecaps with his kisses. She’d never met anyone more ruggedly appealing.
Now, as he lifted a hand, he gently captured hers and held it against his hardness. She thought she’d die from the aching need that slammed into her body. He glided his fingertips done her spine, teased the crevice of her buttocks, moved to part the feminine folds and dip inside. A second finger and he stroked, teased the tiny nub. He removed his fingers and turned her away from him. Gently, he pushed her head forward and lowered her hands to the bedroll so she could brace for his penetration from behind her.
He covered her, his body so much larger than hers. The feel of his big cock nudging her nether lips apart caused her to tense. She stiffened and held her breath.
“Relax,” he whispered. “I’ll go slowly.”
He parted her, working two fingers between the slick folds, opening her, then he guided the broad head into her hungry channel, slowly, inch by inch. She moaned. Jesus, he was big. Big and thick and he was barely in and she felt stretched to the limit.
“Easy,” he said. “Don’t move, sweetheart. I’m not in, yet.”
He pushed deeper,
“Oh, my God,” she groaned. “Wait a minute. Give me a minute.”
She panted as he stilled his penis no more than half-way inside her.
“I don’t think I can take anymore.”
“You can,” he said quietly. He moved, sliding in a little more. “I’m almost in.”
With one more thrust, he pushed past the tight inner muscles.
Lacey cried out. She’d never felt so invaded or so full before.
“Jesus, you’re so damned tight I’m going to explode.” Danger groaned in the back of his throat and moved his hips. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m in. Are you all right?”
“Now I know how a stuffed turkey feels.”
He laughed softly. “You are stuffed. Christ, I didn’t think you were going to take all of me.” He kissed the nape of her neck, slid his hands in front of her and cupped a breast. “Lady, you nearly drove me mad with wanting you, but the wait was worth it.”
He tweaked her nipples, rubbing and teasing them. She bucked against him, grinding her hips against his cock as he moved in a long slow rhythm.
Danger set the pace, at first slow and easy, allowing her body to adjust to his thickness. Then gradually, he increased the rhythm, pumping hard, fast and deep. Lacey shuddered, on the verge of climaxing when he pulled out of her, rolled her to her back and thrust deep inside her.
She bit her lip, meeting each powerful thrust. Lacey dug her nails in his shoulders and shuddered as the powerful climax slammed into her. Her womb clenched. Her inner muscles clamped around his penis. Danger threw back his head and shuddered, his body trembling with his release.
“Oh, shit,” she groaned, clawing his shoulders. “Stop. I’m not on the pill. You can’t come inside me.”
Their gazes locked, both aware there was nothing between them, just skin to skin, heat to heat, and friction to friction and jetting warmth that spread inside her.
“No use pulling out of you now,” he said. “It’s too late.”
He didn’t sound smug or pleased. He simply stated the fact as it was. He’d emptied his seed in her. He moved, still hard inside her. He made no move to pull out of her, but set a slow, intense rhythm. They stared at each, both knowing he had no intention of pulling out of her this time either.
He closed his mouth around a jutting nipple.
Lacey cried out and bucked beneath him.
He was right. He wasn’t a gentle lover. He demanded her all, using teeth, tongue and his body to gain the responses from her he wanted. She touched, stroked and tasted every inch of his body within reach. She lost count of the number of times she climaxed beneath his skillful tongue. She lost track of how many times he came in her.
When he finally pulled out of her, it was nearly dawn. She was exhausted. Sated, but utterly worn out. She moaned as he drew her close in his arms.
“Sore?” he asked, brushing a kiss against her ear.
“Mmm, but I feel good. Well loved.”
He pulled her closer, kissed her mouth and sighed.
Danger listened to Lacey’s soft breathing as she fell asleep.
Well loved.
He doubted that. Well fucked, maybe, but he doubted love entered his little belle’s heart, at least where he was concerned.
His throat constricted with emotion. He gave a low groan and closed his eyes. “Please,” he whispered, “don't be sorry.”
In The Arms Of Danger
Chapter Twenty-One
Everything worthwhile, everything of any value, has its price. Everything anyone has ever wanted has come neatly wrapped up in its penalties.
Loretta Young
Montana Backcountry Mon. 6:00 a.m.
The first fingers of dawn played across the cloudy sky as Lacey eased from the tent. She paused and glanced back over her shoulder at Danger. He slept soundly on his right side, the sleeping bag pulled up to his waist. His dark hair fell long and silky across his shoulder.
She wrinkled her nose at the musky scent of sex that lingered in the tent as she closed the flaps behind her.
God. What had she done? She paused to stretch. Her body felt sore and tender and well used. A satisfied smile teased her lips. What had she done? What hadn’t she done? And what hadn’t he done to her? She’d spent the most incredible night, having the most incredible sex with the most incredible man she could have ever imagined, a man who’d taken his time and loved her well. She could still feel him buried deep inside her body, his seed wetting her womb each time he came.
Why had she allowed him to make love to her without protection? When this was all over, she had a career to return to. A home. The last thing she needed was a baby. She’d never been one to be irresponsible, never left anything to chance when it came to sex. Not that she’d had many lovers, but even her first time, she’d made sure her college sweetheart wore a condom.
Of course, with Danger, things had happened pretty fast. She hadn’t thought to warn him in time she wasn’t protected, but that didn’t excuse their reckless— caught-in-the-moment actions the following four times he made love to her.
She should have insisted he not come inside her. She hadn’t. She hadn’t said a word in protest and he hadn’t stopped or pulled out of her any of those times.
Lacey counted in her mind and bit her lip. Why, of all times of the month, did this have to be when she was ovulating? It would be just her luck; she’d be a Fertile Myrtle.
She yawned and stirred the bed of coals to life, added water in the coffee pot and set it on to heat. Danger’s saddlebags lay on the ground near the log he’d rested against last night. She rummaged inside, fished out the baggie that held fresh coffee grounds and eased ba
ck the plastic zipper. She turned to head back to the fire when it dawned on her just what she’d seen deep in the corner of the saddlebag.
She paused, turned back and flipped up the leather top—sure enough, there they were, staring back at her, plain as day. She grabbed the box and stared at it as if she’d just found a scorpion in her bed.
The sorry bastard.
Not only had he planned her seduction, but he’d brought condoms, not that he’d bothered to use them.
In The Arms Of Danger Page 27