by Lori Foster
“Stack,” she moaned.
He felt ready to come just from hearing her, tasting her.
More urgently, she cried, “Stack!”
He held her closer, concentrating on suckling in just the right spot, at the same time using his tongue to rasp—and she broke, her body lifting on a high cry, her legs tightening, her tender inner thighs closing on his jaws.
Damn, he loved it.
He loved having her like this.
He loved her response, and the way she made him feel.
Refusing to let his brain travel beyond that, he kept pace with her, wringing as much pleasure from her as he could. When her body sank back to the mattress, when her fingers tunneled into his hair and she whimpered, he eased away, kissed a hot path back up her body until he took her mouth.
She remained limp, not really participating but not rejecting him either. He smiled against her mouth. “Stay with me, darlin’.”
“I’m here,” she said drowsily, her voice rough.
“Like this, okay?” He hooked each of her legs into the crook of his elbows, then raised them high.
That got her eyes open. “Oh, um...”
Not giving her time to think about it, he sank in.
Creamy wet, hot and wide-open to him, he entered easily.
Heaven.
The way she gripped him made him want to explode. He paused, his chest billowing, eyes squeezed tight, concentration flagging. He needed it to last more than a minute.
He wouldn’t mind if it lasted forever.
Idly, Vanity’s hand touched his chest, then flattened over his galloping heart. “You are so deep,” she whispered. She inhaled, her inner muscles gripping him, and she softly moaned his name.
He lost it. Taking her mouth in a tongue-twining kiss, he pounded into her, loving how she reacted and tightened over each strong thrust.
Her arms curled around his neck. Clutching at him, she freed her mouth on a wild cry, releasing once more.
Opening his mouth on her neck to muffle his own shout, Stack let himself go. The draining pleasure seemed to go on and on until Vanity started stroking his back and making shushing noises in his ear.
Still struggling for breath, Stack released her legs carefully, waited for her to adjust, then eased on to her. He loved how her full breasts cushioned his chest, the way her face tucked against his neck, how she curled one leg over his, giving him a full body hug. She continued petting him, every so often kissing his shoulder.
Hell, he’d spent more time thinking on all the things he loved about her than about the mind-blowing sex they had.
She whispered, “You are such a stud,” making him grin tiredly. He’d never had a woman offer so many compliments, sometimes on the oddest things—like his ass—while disregarding the compliments he gave her.
He smoothed a hand down her side to her hip. And yeah, he loved that, too, the warmth of her silky skin, how she luxuriated like a cat every time he stroked her. Everything.
Damn it, he loved everything about her. Drawing her closer, he asked, “You’re okay?”
“Mmm. Still pulsing all over, sticky from you and me—” she lightly bit his throat “—and pretty much blown away.”
“Sounds good to me.” He turned to his back but brought her along so she rested atop him. Using both hands to hold her bottom, he kept her close so that they stayed connected. “I like this.”
She pressed in her hips, emphasizing that he was still inside her. “You and me, together?”
“Yeah.” He drifted his thumbs over those sweet dimples at the top of her behind. Maybe it was the satisfaction glowing from her beautiful blue eyes, or maybe it was the satisfaction inside him, leaving him utterly sated in a way he hadn’t felt before. But whatever the cause, it seemed the right time to ask. He kissed her shoulder, her cheek, her temple. “What do you think of that?”
Quizzical, she shook her head. “What?”
“You and me, exclusive. Not for convenience, not just for sex, but because I want you, only you. And I think you want me?”
Eyes widening, she nodded quick confirmation.
Nice that she didn’t make him wait and wonder. Vanity was always so honest; he loved that about her. “Then it’s official.” You with me and only me, now and into the near future. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.”
A breathtaking smile brightened her flushed, damp face. Putting her pointy elbows on his chest, she pushed back her hair. “You’re sure?”
She looked far from disturbed by the idea. “Very sure.” Her hair was wild, everywhere, and he helped her in smoothing it. Making sure she understood, he cupped her face. “I don’t want to share you with anyone. I get that you’re friends with the guys. I’m okay with that as long as they know you’re off-limits.” After losing her family, those friendships were especially important to her. To him, it was just as important that she have backup if or when she ever needed it. He wouldn’t always be available. Fighters traveled, sometimes out of the country.
By staking a claim, he also ensured she had a new family, one well equipped to ensure her safety, to offer support when she needed it, whenever he wasn’t around.
Her lips trembled, alarming him before she managed to turn the show of emotion into a shaky smile. “Okay.” She nodded hard. “As long as everyone understands that you’re off-limits as well, then, yes, I’d like that.”
He wanted her to love it, but for now he’d take what he could get.
Again he rolled, putting her on her back, then reluctantly leaving her. “Let me check on the dogs, then what do you think about a soak in the tub?”
Her gaze went immediately to his arm. “It’s hurting?”
Like a mother. “Just a dull ache.” He couldn’t think of a better way to ease it than relaxing in a hot tub with Vanity naked, wet, soapy, leaning back on him. His. “What do you say?”
Interest darkened her eyes yet again. “Go check the dogs,” she told him with a slow smile. “I’ll get the tub ready.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SOME DISTANT NOISE roused Stack, and as he went to stretch awake, his bruised arm protested. Disgusted with himself for getting caught, he opened his eyes and winced at the bright light sneaking through a part in the curtain.
He turned his head, found the other side of the bed empty, and rose to an elbow.
Eight-thirty.
What the hell? He hadn’t slept past five in forever. His routine included rising early, often starting his day with a jog. Sure, he and Vanity had extended the night with sex, but he was pretty sure they’d both passed out by midnight.
He threw back the covers, put his legs over the side of the bed, and listened to yet another unfamiliar sound. Barking, as if the dogs were outside playing, but in the front instead of the back.
The silence of the house made him more than curious, maybe even a little worried. He made a quick trip to the john, then pulled on jeans and his flannel shirt. Coffee awaited him in the kitchen. Through the window over the sink he saw a sea of white in the backyard.
Snow. Not just a sprinkling, either. The backyard glistened, unmarred by footprints, each tree branch layered in ice, tinkling with the breeze.
Carrying a mug of coffee, he went to the front room, lifted aside a curtain, and looked out.
Son of a bitch.
Bundled up like a sexy snow bunny, Vanity stood in the yard, her boots nearly covered. She wore a white puffy jacket, white fuzzy hat and white mittens. She held a shovel and the dogs bounded this way and that around her.
The walkway was shoveled clear and half the driveway...because Leese, with his own shovel, his back to the house and Vanity, was working on it.
A salt truck drove by—the odd sound that had awakened Stack. The winter storm had come early and unexpecte
dly. Not that Vanity seemed to mind.
Grinning, she set aside her shovel, then packed a snowball in her mittens. Drawing back, she sent it zinging toward Leese.
It hit him dead center between his shoulder blades, and he whipped around, incredulous, before dropping the shovel and bending to scoop up his own snow. Vanity squealed, lifting her shovel to use like a shield. When she peeked out, Leese lobbed the snowball at her face.
As she ducked, her laughter carried across the yard.
Stack opened the door and immediately drew their attention. He said nothing. Hell, he wasn’t sure what to say.
Elated, Vanity came clumping through the snow toward him. Both dogs, woofing happily, followed her.
“It snowed!”
“So I see.” He sipped the coffee and ignored the freezing air on his naked toes. “Having fun?”
“Yes. I love the snow. Isn’t it beautiful?”
She’d tugged the hat down to her brows, and her long blond hair tangled around her shoulders. A red nose and cheeks made her blue eyes appear brighter. “Very.”
“Usually I only saw it when we traveled, and then only to ski, not to play in. It’s amazing—oof.” She bumped into Stack, then whipped around. “Hey!”
Leese had thrown another snowball, and this one got her right in the butt.
Laughing, she dusted off her backside. “You’re fired!”
“Fine by me.” Carrying the shovel, Leese started toward them. He glanced at Stack and smirked. “I know you said he needed to rest, but now that Stack’s dragged his sorry ass out of the bed, he can take over.”
“His arm is hurt,” Vanity protested. “I’ll finish up.”
Before Stack could get the protest said, Leese slanted him a look—one that both quelled his objections and said there was more to the situation than he realized. “She did the walkway.” Leese shrugged while maintaining eye contact. “Says she enjoys it.”
“I do.” Vanity patted Leese’s shoulder. “You two go on in, and I’ll be there as soon as I finish up. You’ve almost finished it already anyway.”
Expecting them both to obey, to just leave her outside in frigid temps and a half foot of snow, Vanity headed to the driveway. Both dogs leaped happily after her.
“Get that evil glint out of your eyes,” Leese said low while stomping his feet to shake off the snow. “I came to talk to you.”
“Right. You wanted to see me, so instead you played in the snow with Vanity.”
“I brought along a snow shovel and a canister of salt as an excuse to stop by since you haven’t yet told her you got jumped.” He propped the second shovel on the porch. “Then I was going to head back to my place to clean the walkway. The kids play outside, but the landlord is slow to do anything.”
Ignoring most of that, Stack asked, “What makes you think I haven’t?”
Leese grinned. “She asked me about it.”
“Yeah?” Standing back, Stack held the door for Leese to enter. “What’d you tell her?”
“To ask you.”
The perfect answer. “She did.”
Leese paused. “So you gave her all the details?”
“No.” Hell no. Stack looked at Vanity. “Not all.”
Leese glanced back, too, then shook his head as Vanity dumped a heavy shovelful of snow to the side. “She’s a workhorse. I gave her that shovel, and she acted like it was Christmas morning and I’d given the best gift.”
Stack watched her work a moment, saw she wasn’t overtaxed, and closed the door. “She’s unusual.”
“Unique,” Leese corrected as he tugged off his boots. The second he finished, he headed to the kitchen and got a mug from the cabinet.
The way he made himself at home continued to irk Stack, but he kept it to himself. He and Vanity had a new, more concrete relationship, and he’d trust in it.
He’d trust in her.
“Why’d you want to see me?”
Instead of answering, Leese sipped his coffee while noting Stack’s “just out of bed” rumpled appearance. “So, you two are an item now?”
Holding back his ire became more difficult. “She told you that, too?”
Leese shrugged. “Pretty much.”
“Then you already have your answer.”
Quietly, Leese contemplated him before he set his coffee mug aside and folded his arms. “I’ve never had reason to do the whole big-brother routine, but I feel compelled to give it a shot now.”
“Going to threaten my kneecaps?”
“Something like that.” He tipped his chin. “You know she doesn’t deserve to be hurt.”
“Agreed.” Hurting Vanity was the last thing he wanted. “I care about her.” How much, he couldn’t yet say. Though he’d known her for months now, they’d only just gotten intimate. He knew he wanted more. A lot more.
But it was far too soon to say he wanted forever.
“You’re making a go of it?”
Stack gave him a direct stare. “She’s mine.”
Appearing satisfied by that, Leese nodded. “Okay then.” He strode to the chair opposite Stack and sat down. Arms crossed on the table, he said, “The guys who attacked you were hired by a small-time dealer.”
Stack frowned. He had a dozen questions but started with, “Why? What’s his beef with me?”
“Don’t know that yet. But the fact you have people asking around about it means more people are talking. I heard it from a lady friend who claims to know the dope peddler.”
“You keep friends in low places.”
With a short laugh, Leese sat back. “Maybe I overstated things. We hooked up one night. I haven’t seen her since.”
“Ah. That type of lady friend.”
“She knew I’m a fighter—probably the reason she approached me in the first place.”
Stack well understood pushy groupies. Many fighters dealt with them, him included.
“Right after...well, after, she asked if I knew you. Said she’d heard you were a wanted man.” Leese gave a small shake of his head. “I already shared all this with the others, but I figured you’d want to hear it directly from me.”
“I do, thanks.” It all seemed more than curious to Stack. Why would the chick hit on Leese and then ask about another man? Bad form, for sure. “What’s her name?”
“I’m not sure.” Leese tugged on his ear. “Honestly, we didn’t do much talking. She came on strong, took me to her hotel room, wrung me out, and just as I was leaving a few hours later, she asked about you.”
“What’d you tell her?”
“Not a damn thing.”
Smart. “Appreciate that.”
“Course.” Leese sat forward again. “She asked if I knew you. I asked why she was asking.” His brows angled down. “She said she was just curious because you’d pissed off some people, specifically this dealer, and that he was looking for you. When I tried to ask her more, she clammed up.”
“Hotel room, huh?”
“Yeah, sorry. I went back to that room later, but she’d already checked out.”
In too many ways, it all felt like a setup. “Can you describe her?”
“Medium height, big boobs, nice legs. She wore a shit-ton of makeup and had her hair in some tight little bun thing on top of her head.” Leese shrugged. “I’d have paid closer attention if I’d known she was going to grill me on you. Gotta say, she took me by surprise with it, then practically shoved me out the door.”
“Did you meet her at Rowdy’s?” The once shady bar was now a favorite hangout since Rowdy had bought and renovated it. He kept the place clean but laid-back, offered decent food, drinks, dancing and billiards. All in all, a comfortable ambiance.
“Sorry, no. I hit up this place nearer to my apartment. I’d only been there a few
minutes when she hit on me, so we weren’t there long.”
“Would the bartender know her?”
Leese shook his head. “Already asked around and no one did.” Uncomfortable, he shifted. “It’s not really the kind of place where you can grill people without causing some suspicion. I’d only been there a few times.”
Curious, Stack asked, “Why’d you go there last night?”
Leese pinched the bridge of his nose, then sent a hand through his hair. “Personal shit, okay? Nothing important.”
Stack understood that. Leese was newer to the group. He’d been a mediocre fighter when Denver invited him to the rec center. But since then, he’d shown real potential. He had a lot of natural talent that only needed to be challenged and refined. Soon, Stack thought, Leese could be a real contender.
The front door opened and closed, and the sound of dogs thundering toward the kitchen made Stack smile. He turned, saw Maggie hit the kitchen floor and slide on wet paws, and then Norwood did the same. Their snow-covered feet sent them skating across the tile. Stack jumped up, as did Leese, and they’d just about contained the dogs when Vanity stepped in. She’d removed her boots, so she didn’t slip, and to Stack’s surprise, she seemed unconcerned with the wet tracks the dogs left everywhere.
“I hope you guys left me some coffee.” On her way to the pot she chafed her hands. “I think it’s getting colder instead of warmer, and it started snowing again.” She poured a mug of coffee with one hand and reached for paper towels with the other. Whipping off several, she handed them to Stack.
He shared a bemused look with Leese, then cleaned the dogs’ paws before soaking up the melted snow mess. Somehow the more Vanity did, the more energy she had.
Leese cleared his throat. “Another thing before I go.”
From his kneeling position on the floor, Stack asked, “Yeah?”
“Some reporter called the rec center looking for you.” He glanced at Vanity. “He wants to interview you both about a car fire you helped with.”
Stack barely restrained his groan. He had no interest in an interview, but until he knew Vanity’s feeling on it, he kept his opinion to himself.