Because her thoughts were elsewhere, it took a second for his command to sink in. She shook her head. They needed to talk before they got naked.
Marshall whipped off his hat and tossed it aside. His hair was damp, his eyes stormy. “You need to get warm, Tabby cat.”
The nickname almost made her smile. Only he would dare call her that. Heat suffused her at the memories that assailed her. He usually used the nickname when they were making love and her nails were digging into his shoulders or butt as she clung to him and called his name.
“I’m okay.” She eased the straps of her knapsack off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor in a wet heap.
He shook his head and started toward her, determination in every line of his body. “You’re not okay. You’re wet and chilled and you’ll get sick if you don’t get dry and warm. Now strip.”
Patience seemingly at an end, Marshall grabbed the hem of her shirt and tugged. Seeing no choice but to fight him or help him, she raised her arms and let him pull the soggy material away. Since she hadn’t taken the time to put her bra back on before they’d made their mad dash across the countryside, she was naked from the waist up.
Goose bumps trailed up her arms as he stared at her breasts. Her nipples tightened into hard peaks under his hot gaze. She crossed her arms over her chest in reflex and he raised one eyebrow. “A little late for that, isn’t it?” She ignored him and moved closer to the fire, absorbing the heat into her cold skin.
She heard him sigh and felt him hovering behind her. “Boots next.”
Knowing he wouldn’t relent, she glanced over her shoulder. “Why don’t you get me a towel or a blanket?”
He raked his fingers through his hair. His shirt was clinging to his torso and arms, outlining the hard, firm muscles. She swallowed hard, longing to touch them again. For a few minutes back at her campsite, she’d forgotten the past eight months, the pain, the disappointment, the loneliness that never seemed to leave her.
They had to talk first. He had to know she hadn’t left him, hadn’t stayed away willingly.
He turned on a heel, stalked across the room and ripped the blanket off the top of the bed. Because the shack was basically one big room with an attached bathroom, the bed was in plain view. Talia admired the view from behind. His wet jeans clung to his firm ass and muscled thighs. No doubt about it, he might have been sick and injured, but even now his body made her hormones sit up and take notice. She was still standing there watching him like some lovesick fool when he brought the blanket to her.
“Need help?” She could hear the underlying challenge.
“No.” She bent down and tugged at her boot laces. “I can manage.”
It was more difficult than she anticipated. Her fingers were cold and shaking slightly. She who had crept in and out of drug lord strongholds all over the world, who’d shot and killed the enemy without hesitation, when necessary, was now shaking. And all because of this man.
She peeled her socks off and tossed them next to her boots. As she straightened, she noticed that Marshall had stripped off his shirt and was watching her. He’d removed his boots and socks as well and wore only his jeans. Was there a sexier look for a man? Talia didn’t think so. Especially when he was built like Marshall.
She’d seen him in camouflage gear and a formal tuxedo and every outfit in between when they’d been working, but somehow he looked right wearing jeans and nothing else at all. Her gaze strayed to the long, puckered scar on his chest. She shivered again. This time it was all fear. He could have died. He’d almost died.
Her feet moved without her permission, bringing her closer to Marshall. She rested her hand over the scar. She could feel his heart beating against her fingertips. It had been so close.
He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger and raised it. “It’s done. No need to dwell on it.”
No need to dwell. That was such a macho thing to say and totally impossible to do. She shook her head. It had consumed her life since the moment it had happened.
His features tightened and she could feel him distancing himself from her. Marshall didn’t want pity. Would reject any gesture he perceived as sympathy. She didn’t want to lose the closeness between them, the intimacy of the moment.
Her thoughts tangled as she came up with and discarded various plans of action. It was what she did. And she was damn good at tactics. She was also excellent at reading her prey and tracking them. Those skills, along with her cat-like features, had garnered her the nickname Tiger. And right now she was on the hunt of her life. Marshall was standing right in front of her, but he might as well be ten miles away. She had to close the distance between them.
There was one sure way to do it. Sex.
It wasn’t manipulating him. Not really. She loved him and would use whatever was at her disposal to get him to believe that. Going up on her toes, she brushed a kiss over his jaw. It was lightly stubbled and rubbed her cheek.
Marshall held himself still as a stone as she brushed her fingers across the hard planes of his chest and circled one flat brown nipple with her thumb. His breathing hitched and his muscles flexed. “Be sure,” he warned.
She could have told him she wasn’t afraid of him, had spent months wanting him. It had been torture to lie in bed at night and remember all the times he’d touched her. The feel of his rough hands on her skin, the slid of his hard cock, the flex of his hips as he took her.
She showed him instead. Stepping back, she opened the button on her jeans and pulled down the zipper. The metallic sound was loud in the small room. The fire crackled and popped and she could hear his breath getting harsher as she shoved the wet fabric down her hips.
The time for modesty had passed. She kicked away the jeans and reached for her panties, whisking away the plain white cotton bikini underwear. He didn’t move, but she could see the flex and play in his biceps as he fisted his hands by his sides.
She wasn’t cold now. Not with Marshall staring at her as if he’d like to eat her whole. Her inner muscles clenched and she almost moaned when she felt the slick slide of cream from her core.
Talia reached for the opening of his jeans. He didn’t help her, but he didn’t stop her either. His cock fell into her waiting hand. He wasn’t wearing any underwear. She wrapped her fingers around him, savoring the feel of his hot shaft. Like satin over steel. He pulsed with life beneath her palm and she squeezed.
Marshall threw back his head and groaned. The long cords of his neck stood out in relief as he shoved his cock deeper into her hand. “Harder.”
Talia slipped to her knees in front of him. The fire crackled off to her right, heating the space around them, driving off any lingering cold and damp. Not that she felt chilled any longer.
She felt hot. Alive. Totally female and sexy.
The bulbous head of his cock was a deep red and wet. As she watched, a bead of pre-cum seeped from the slit. She licked her lips in anticipation.
Marshall gripped her head and guided her closer. “Suck me, Tabby.”
She could hear the urgency in his voice, the growing need that matched her own. She licked at the tip, tasting the salty essence. His cock seemed to swell in her hand. Curling her tongue around the plum-shaped head, she savored him like the treat he was.
His jeans were in her way, so she released him long enough to shove them down to his ankles. Marshall stepped out of them and kicked them aside. The scar on his thigh was a stark reminder of what she’d almost lost. She wanted to kiss it, lave it with her tongue. She wanted to cry over it and bathe it with her tears.
But that would only drive him away.
Instead, she cupped his balls, rotating them gently with her fingers.
“Fuck, yes.” His voice was hoarse with passion.
His cock jerked toward her and she opened her mouth and took the tip into her mouth. She circled it with her tongue as she wrapped her free hand around the base of his shaft, pumping lightly.
“Harder.”
She
hollowed her cheeks, sucking him as deep as she could take him. His pleasure aroused her. Her nipples ached so she leaned against his thighs, rubbing the tender buds against the coarse hair and hard muscles. It wasn’t near enough.
She could taste him on her tongue, salt and spicy, smell him, a strangely erotic combination of musk, leather and male. His groans made her pussy clutch with growing need.
He was close. She could feel it in the tightening of his balls, the frantic pace of his thrusts as he rocked his pelvis against her hand and mouth.
Suddenly, he pulled away, leaving her bereft. His nostrils flared, his chest heaved as he reached down and yanked her to her feet. His eyes were wild as he kicked aside a chair and bent her over the wooden table. Her breasts flattened against the cool, hard surface, making her gasp.
He kicked her legs apart and moved in between her spread thighs. His cock pressed against the opening of her pussy and she almost whimpered. This was what she wanted. Hard and fast with no holds barred.
“Tabby?” She heard the question in his voice. Knew one word from her would stop him.
“Fuck me, Marshall.”
His hands gripped her hips as he filled her with one hard thrust.
Marshall saw spots and took a deep breath, then another. Nothing had ever felt as good as having his cock buried inside Talia. It was like coming home. He shoved that thought aside and concentrated on the physical. Her cunt gripped him like a wet leather glove. It was almost painful, but it was so fucking good he never wanted it to end.
When she’d stripped off her clothes and gone to her knees in front of him, he’d almost lost his mind. He’d woken many nights from dreams of having her sweet mouth on him. But this was better than any dream. She’d sucked his dick and teased his balls, all the while squeezing his shaft tight.
He’d almost come in her mouth, but hadn’t wanted to do it that way. Not the first time. He wanted to have his dick as far inside her as he could get when he finally came.
There’d been no time for finesse. There was only a pulsing, driving need to claim Tabby, to mark her as his. He pulled his hips back, his hard length being squeezed by her pussy as he pulled almost all the way out.
He admired the supple curve of her spine, her heart-shaped ass, the flare of her hips. Then he slammed his cock back into her.
She cried out. Not in pain, but in pleasure. Her inner muscles gripped and clutched his shaft with increasing pressure. He reached around her and slid his fingers through her damp pubic hair and found the nub of pleasure it shielded. He rubbed her clit, loving the way she moaned and rocked her hips against his finger.
“You’re so hot and ready for me.” The way she responded to him had always turned him on. “Your cunt is wrapped around my cock so tight.” As if in response, her heated channel rippled around his shaft. “Yeah,” he rocked back and forth, short, hard thrusts. “You like that, don’t you, Tabby? You love it when I fuck you.”
He realized he needed the words, needed her to surrender to him.
“Yesss,” she hissed, working her hips back and forth. “Harder. More.”
For the first time in months, he felt whole and in control. He used his fingers to part the folds of her labia and teased her clit with his thumb. Talia whimpered.
He wanted to go deeper. Take her harder.
Easing his arm around her waist, he pulled her upright. The angle made it difficult to move, but shoved his cock as far into her sweet cunt as it could go. He kept one hand between her thighs and used the free one to cup one firm breast, tugging on the hard nub of her nipple.
Her head fell back against his shoulder. She was panting hard now, her inner muscles rippling around him. He bent his legs slightly and pushed up, moving his cock slightly. His balls pulled up tight when he did it again.
Talia slapped her hands on the table and used it to support herself as he worked in and out, small thrusts that rocked his world. He could hear the thunder outside the shack and knew it was nothing compared to the storm inside.
“Come for me, Tabby.” He stroked her clit and pushed hard and deep. She cried out, her entire body jerking as she came. He felt the hot flood bathing his cock and then he was coming too. His orgasm came all the way from his balls and shot up his shaft like a rocket taking off. He swayed and stumbled, cursing his leg as he supported himself against the table.
Talia was sprawled facedown on the table again with him leaning over her. Both of them were breathing heavily. As much as he wanted to stay in this postition, he knew his bad leg wouldn’t hold up much longer. It was already screaming in protest.
They both groaned when he pulled out of her. Taking a second, he caught his breath and got his balance before half lifting, half dragging her away from the table and across the room. He tumbled them down onto the bed and dragged a sheet over them.
The rain pattered against the roof but the storm was moving off, the sound of thunder getting fainter. Talia didn’t want to move. For the first time in months, she wanted to smile. She curled her toes against Marshall’s hair-roughened legs, soaking in his nearness and his heat.
He rubbed his chin against the crown of her head. His hand rested on her stomach, absently rubbing circles over her skin.
Slowly, she turned until she was facing him. His eyes were still shrouded from her. Yes, she could see the heat, the satiated lover, but he was still holding back. She cupped his rough-hewn face in her hands and placed a gentle kiss on his chin, his cheeks, his nose and finally his mouth.
They both sighed as lips parted and tongues tangled. There was no urgency now. This was the time to savor, to linger. Marshall ran his hands up and down the length of her spine, soothing, cupping her ass and squeezing gently.
Her nipples were erect, begging for attention, so she rubbed them against his chest. His erection, which had gone down slightly, was on the rise again. His cock head brushed against her stomach, the tip wet from their lovemaking.
Talia slid her hands down his broad shoulders, loving the play of muscle beneath her palms. His biceps rippled when she stroked them. She leisurely explored his chest, reacquainting herself with all the textures of her lover.
He lifted his lips from her and brushed a lock of hair away from her face. “Talia,” he began. But she wasn’t ready yet. Not now. Not with him looking at her with such tenderness. The first time had been about slaking a need. This time would be about making love.
She shook her head and kissed him again. He could have easily evaded her. She was strong and a trained fighter, but so was he and he outweighed her by quite a bit. His tongue tangled with her as he pushed into her mouth and took control of the kiss.
She pushed at his shoulder until he rolled onto his back. Not hesitating, she rolled right on top of him. Every hard line of his body pressed against her. Her thighs rested on his. His cock throbbed against her belly. She squirmed until her mound was pushed solidly against his shaft. Her breasts were pillowed on his chest and her lips were joined with his.
It was perfect.
His hands continued to shape the dips and curves of her torso before absently kneading her butt. She felt contented but aroused. Long minutes passed as they petted one another, drawing moans of pleasure. She reached behind her and found his balls, massaging them and then dragging her nails gently over his sac.
His cock jerked, pushing harder against the folds of her labia. She shifted slightly, rubbing her clit against his shaft. Her breathing got sharper, faster as her arousal grew. Marshall grabbed her hips and lifted, sliding his cock into her slick channel. Her inner muscles were swollen from her last orgasm, but she was so wet, so ready for him, she had no problem taking him.
Talia put her hands on his chest and lifted herself. It pushed his cock deeper and drew a moan from her. His face was flushed, his lips damp from her kisses. Love swelled in her heart as she peppered his face with kisses.
She rocked her hips slowly. Gently. Savoring the connection, the slide of his hot cock in and out. His hair was dry now a
nd lay like silk against the plain white pillowcase. She sifted her fingers through several locks, loving the soft glide of it.
He was letting her set the pace this time. She didn’t rush, knowing that after this they would have to talk. She drew it out as long as she could, raising and lowering herself slowly over him.
Marshall found her clit with his fingers and teased the bud until her movements were no longer smooth, but jerky and needy. Her fingers curled and her nails dug into his chest as she rode him faster and harder.
He pumped his hips, pushing his cock deep with each thrust. She gazed into his eyes, wanting to memorize this moment. Explosions of heat went off inside her and her muscles contracted. She cried out his name, watched his blue eyes glaze over and felt the rush of wetness inside her as he came. His shaft jerked, sending her off into another round of spasms.
She fell against his chest and he caught her, wrapping his arms protectively around her. A lone tear leaked from her eye. She blinked hard, driving back the rest. This wasn’t the end, but the beginning. She wouldn’t let it be any other way. In the back of her mind, she knew it wasn’t that simple. Even if Marshall understood what had happened, he might not want her long-term. She had to be ready for that.
Talia allowed herself one more moment of feeling connected to him before she slowly disengaged their bodies and rolled off the bed. “I’ll be back.” She padded to the bathroom and shut the door. Grabbing a cloth from a peg on the wall, she jammed it beneath the tap and turned on the hot water.
A quick glance in the tiny mirror hanging over the sink showed her she looked totally debauched. Her hair was mussed, her face flushed and rubbed in several spots from the stubble on Marshall’s chin. But her eyes looked positively haunted. She swallowed hard and looked away. Taking the warm cloth, she cleaned herself up and used the bathroom. When she was done, she opened the door, ready to face Marshall.
Tracking Talia Page 3