Hot Pursuit

by Lynn Raye Harris

  “I don’t care about that. I care about you.”

  His beautiful eyes were so serious. “I care about you too.” He ran a knuckle against her cheek. “Now is all I have, Evie. Right now. You’ll understand after I’m gone.”

  Evie disentangled herself and slipped back into her chair, her eyes stinging and throat aching. There were things happening here that she wasn’t quite ready for. “Now’s not the time to talk about this. We need to write our statements.”

  “I’m trying not to be a jerk about this.” He raked a hand through his hair and rested his forehead in his palm, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Fuck, this is why I don’t get involved.” He raised his head. “I’m pretty sure I’m not the kind of guy who can make you happy, Evie. I want to be, but I don’t know that I can.”

  “Isn’t that for me to decide?”

  His throat worked as he swallowed. “You just had a taste of my life. If by some miracle I don’t end up booted out of the Army, do you want more of that? Do you want to wonder about where I am and what I’m doing?”

  She dropped her gaze to the cold table. What would it be like to always worry about him? To not know if he was coming back? To be unable to help him?

  “And if you get kicked out? What then?”

  His mouth tightened. “Right now, right here. This is all I have to give you, Evie. I’m being honest. I can’t think about the future just yet.”

  Her heart felt like glass. And she had to protect it. This time, she had to keep it from shattering. “Then maybe we should say goodbye now. Because I can’t be with you and know it’s going nowhere.”

  He stared at her for a long, tense moment.

  “Très bien, chère, très bien.” He picked up the pen and started to write.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  MATT WORE SUNGLASSES FOR THE wedding. The doctor told him he needed to stay inside and rest, but he was one of Ben’s groomsmen and he had to be there. Christina looked happier than he’d ever seen her. Her hands shook as she took the ring from her maid of honor and slipped it onto Ben’s finger. For a moment, he imagined himself in her place with a woman who smiled, cried, and held up her hand for the ring he would slip—

  Shit no. He shook his head and took a deep breath. No way. He couldn’t. Even if he was done in HOT, he didn’t know what the future held; he couldn’t involve Evie in his life until he did. Was he supposed to ask her to wait for him? How could he do that to her?

  And if by some miracle he went back to the team, then what? He knew what it cost the guys who were married. He’d served with them before, saw the pain and agony in their faces every time the C-130 lifted off. They loved the job too much to quit and their families too much not to.

  Pure fucking hell. Maybe it was best she’d walked away, though he still felt a pinch in his chest where his heart ached. She’d left him, and it was the right thing to do.

  But he was fucking miserable.

  Magnolias and jasmine perfumed the air, wrapping around his senses and making him think of a different kind of perfume, the one he associated with Evie. Citrus and spice, flowers and woman. How would he ever breathe normally again?

  He lifted his gaze, trying to shift focus. Beyond the garden, the water of the bayou sparkled with the red fire of the setting sun. Hard to believe that only a day ago he’d been on the verge of dying out there.

  The senator had been remarkably nonplussed about the wrecking of his yacht. He’d already called in a firm to raise her out of the bayou and transport her to dry dock for repairs. The stump had torn a hole in her bow and she’d gotten waterlogged. Thankfully, the damage was mostly limited to the hull. Matt expected the old man to blow a gasket, but he’d simply clamped Matt’s shoulder and squeezed briefly. Matt still wasn’t sure what that meant, but it didn’t seem to be a hostile gesture. In fact, it was probably the friendliest overture he’d had from his father in years.

  He hadn’t seen Evie since yesterday morning. After she’d had the cut over her eye taped by the EMTs, they’d spent a couple of hours at the police station. He’d thought they would leave together, but he’d fucked that up beyond repair by trying to be truthful with her. She’d written her statement in silence, then left him sitting there alone calling himself six kinds of a jackass and wondering how to get her back, even if only for a moment.

  The vows wrapped up and the wedding guests adjourned to a different part of the garden for the reception. People came up to him, congratulated him, and asked all kinds of questions about his profession and if he usually did this kind of thing for the military. He gave the standard vague answers, his head lightly pulsing with a headache brought on by not one, but two blows to the skull within a few hours’ time. It was a miracle the headache wasn’t worse. Hell, it was a miracle he was upright and had the power of speech.

  He’d gone after West the instant the boat crashed. He’d realized what was happening immediately, braced himself for it, and grabbed the guy as he came hurtling toward him. They ended up on the deck when they were thrown forward and West scrambled outside as Matt tried to catch him. Matt flipped West into the water and followed, hell-bent on squeezing the life out of the motherfucker. He was about to do just that when David was forcibly ripped from his grasp.

  God, she’d scared the shit out of him. Again.

  Evie, thinking to save him—his ridiculous, brave, beautiful chef. His best friend in the world. She’d battled her greatest fear and leapt in after him. He should be ecstatic. He should be loving her silly right about now, stroking into her while they both shuddered and gasped and came.

  Yeah, but he’d fucked that up pretty good, hadn’t he? He’d never get that chance again.

  “Hey there, Richie,” a soft voice said, and he turned to the right, seeing her leaning against a column a few feet away on the wraparound veranda, her body encased from breast to knee in a silky navy dress. He excused himself from one of the senator’s donors who was holding court with a bevy of ladies and gentlemen and made his way to her.

  “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

  She shrugged one gorgeous shoulder. “I had this wedding invitation, you see.” The strapless dress fit her like a glove, sending his imagination into overdrive. How could any woman have so many lush curves packed into one small dress? Her breasts jiggled when she moved and sent an arrow of need straight to his groin.

  “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “I know.”

  Her black hair was pulled back, away from her face, and piled on top of her head in some concoction that had him concentrating on the slim column of her neck. Damn, he wanted to bite her there. And other places too.

  “I didn’t expect you’d come, after everything.”

  She straightened and smoothed the fabric even though it didn’t need it. “I didn’t plan to. But I couldn’t disappoint your sister.”

  “Is that the only reason?”

  She shrugged again.

  “If you’re here now—if you don’t walk away right this minute—you know what’s going to happen, right?” His voice sounded rough. Blood surged into his veins, his cock, drowning him in a current of need and want.

  “I’ve resigned myself to it, yes.”

  He hesitated. “What’s that mean, Evie? Because I don’t want to hurt you. Honest to God, I don’t.”

  She closed the distance between them, slid a finger down the lapel of his tux, and fiddled with his top button. “I guess it means I’ve decided to accept your terms.”

  He couldn’t stop himself from drawing her into his arms. She was warm, vibrant, and alive. A woman he cared about. A woman he wanted more than he could remember ever wanting anyone.

  He dipped his head to place a kiss on the corner of her mouth. She sighed, turning until her mouth connected with his. His cock throbbed as her tongue slipped against his. She tasted like chocolate, happiness, and all the things he’d ever wanted. A bright light flashed, the work of a photographer. He didn’t care.
<
br />   “I want you,” he growled against her throat. “But I’ll let you go if it’s what you want.”

  “It’s not what I want at all.”

  He kissed her again, oblivious to any attention they might draw. Before he lost his mind, he lifted his head and scanned the garden. One or two people looked away quickly, but mostly they were concentrating on Chris and Ben and having a good time.

  “You want to get out of here?” He prayed the answer was yes.

  She smiled up at him. “Oh yeah.”

  He wrapped an arm around her waist and propelled her into the house. He thought about finding a closet, a bathroom, any secluded spot he could, and burying himself inside her until the world went away.

  But he kept going, straight through the house to the front porch, down the steps, and up to a waiting limo. She looked at him quizzically and he shrugged. “I’m in a hurry.”

  He pulled a fifty from his wallet and told the driver it was his if he’d take them to the guesthouse. The man looked at him strangely, then nodded and climbed in the front to start the car. Two minutes later, Matt fumbled with the key to the front door. He wanted her so frigging bad he couldn’t perform a simple task like opening a door. She placed her hand on his and guided the key into the lock. The door slipped open. He turned to her and had the oddest sensation in his chest.

  God, he loved her. He’d always loved her, but he’d been too stupid to see it. She made him feel alive, whole, and he needed her so much. But he couldn’t tell her those things because it wasn’t fair to her. He couldn’t drag her into his life until he knew what it was going to be.

  He swept her into his arms and across the threshold. When he kicked the door closed and set her down, her fingers tore at his bow tie.

  She started on the shirt studs, but he grasped the edges and yanked so the studs went flying.

  Her hands splayed over his chest; then she was yanking his T-shirt up and out of his trousers, pressing her hot mouth to his abdomen. He threw his head back, groaning.

  “Evie—”

  Her quick fingers slid his zipper down. Somehow, he found the side zipper of her dress and tugged it until her breasts sprang free. Her nipples pebbled. He was dying to suck them, dying to make her squirm beneath him. Before he could act on those thoughts, she shoved his shirt and jacket off his shoulders, trapping him with one hand twisted into the fabric. He could get free, of course, but it was damn exciting to watch her take control. To be at her mercy.

  “I have to be in you.” His voice sounded strange to his own ears.

  “All in good time.” She let go of the jacket as she dropped to her knees in front of him, all gorgeous, tempting woman. Her moist lips parted. “Don’t you want this?”

  Matt closed his eyes as his head fell back. Want it, hell. He’d die if he didn’t get it.

  She freed his cock from his pants and stroked it until electricity zinged from his scalp to his toes. When her lips parted and she took him inside that gorgeous, lush mouth, he thought he’d come undone in half a second.

  It was lust, but it was more than that. So much more. He felt this woman in his blood, his bones. He felt incredible when she was with him. Couldn’t imagine another woman doing this to him.

  Her tongue swirled around him, flattened against the underside of his aching cock, and tickled the tip until he was gripping her head and gasping. He couldn’t let her finish it, couldn’t let it be over so damn fast, and yet he wanted nothing more than to thrust between her lips and give himself up to the nirvana.

  She made the decision for him. She grabbed his ass with both hands, held him hard against her while she sucked him. He couldn’t have stopped the crisis if he tried. His hands threaded into her hair, held her gently yet firmly. If she wanted to stop, she could.

  But she didn’t.

  Her mouth and tongue were magic, lashing him forward until he was like a speeding train incapable of stopping. He’d wanted to come inside her, and yet he thrust into her willing mouth one last time—and lost his ever-loving mind.

  When she’d drained him, he shuddered and groaned and felt like he was falling into a bottomless crevasse the pleasure was so intense. His knees gave way until he was on the floor at eye-level with her.

  “Holy shit.” Those were the only words he could manage.

  *

  What was she doing here? For a second, as Evie stared into Matt’s glazed eyes, panic twisted her stomach into a knot. She’d spent the last day and night with Mama and Sarah, getting them all settled at Aunt Betsy’s. There’d been calls to the insurance company, another visit from the police, a steady parade of friends and neighbors bearing food and small gifts.

  She hadn’t planned to see him again. It was simply easier to let him walk away before the vise around her heart squeezed tighter.

  But she couldn’t do it. She’d realized as she sat there listening politely while yet another person dropped off a casserole and talked about dead bodies and kidnapping that she wanted these next few hours with Matt, no matter what happened at the end of them.

  She planned to enjoy every last minute of them, too. She ran her fingers along his jaw and shivered when he repeated the motion. They were kneeling on the floor, facing each other, touching with nothing but fingertips to faces. It was heartbreaking and beautiful, and tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.

  He caught one as it escaped, rubbed it between his fingers, and then gathered her to him. He pressed her back on the oriental carpet, stretched out beside her, and kissed her so tenderly it made her heart ache.

  “I want to make love to you, but I think I’m about to fall asleep. You slayed me just now.”

  Evie laughed. It’d been an exhausting couple of days for them both. “Why don’t we just lay here for a while then?”

  She watched the rise and fall of his chest as he settled beside her, then turned and curled herself into him. It felt so right, just lying here with him like this. They were still half-dressed when they fell into a doze in the middle of the living room floor.

  When she woke sometime later, night had fallen and the house was dark. Matt was still beside her, his hot skin sizzling into her where they touched. She moved gingerly, trying not to wake him, but he lifted onto an elbow beside her. His fingers ghosted along her collarbone.

  “You awake?”

  “Yes.”

  “Me too.” His hips flexed. He was hard and ready, and brightness flared inside her as his lips found hers and stole her breath away. She knew this time he was taking control. He was no longer pliable, no longer content to allow her to take the lead.

  He stroked her skin with tender fingers until she thought she’d die if he didn’t touch her where she most wanted to be touched. She gripped his muscular shoulders and clung to him as he kissed her. Her body throbbed with need. All she wanted was for him to strip her dress away and join his body to hers.

  He pushed away from her, his breathing as unsteady as her own. “We’re going to need a bed for all the things I have in mind tonight.”

  He got up and helped her to her feet. They hurried down the hall to the master bedroom; then he was deftly removing her dress the rest of the way and sliding her undergarments from her sensitized skin.

  He pushed her back onto the bed, her butt on the edge, and dropped between her legs. There was no mistaking what came next. She was already so hot for him that he seemed to know better than to waste any time. He lowered his head and touched his tongue to her clit, then sucked it between his lips while he inserted two fingers inside her.

  Oh God, she was going to die. Her body clenched around his fingers. She wanted more. More than just his fingers and tongue. She wanted him inside her, stroking hard, driving her over the edge.

  But he wouldn’t give it to her. He was going to torture her with this, same as she’d done to him earlier. The pressure of his fingers increased, the tempo growing faster, while he manipulated her with his hot tongue. She came hard, gasping his name.

  Before the trem
ors ceased, he’d pushed her higher on the bed and settled between her legs. He was inside her with one long stroke, right where she wanted him to be.

  “It’s amazing with you.” He withdrew and slid into her again, shuddering so hard she felt the movement in her core. “It always has been.”

  She laughed brokenly. “This is only our third time together. Like this, I mean. You inside me.”

  “I know. And I stand by the statement.”

  She felt a tear slip down her cheek. “Matt—”

  She wanted to let the words out, wanted to tell him how she felt, but she couldn’t place that burden on him. Not when he only wanted now.

  “I know.”

  “You have no idea what I was going to say.”

  He kissed her. “No, but I know it anyway.”

  Whatever she might have answered was lost when he rocked into her harder and faster, suddenly losing the control he’d always enforced on himself. Their bodies slammed together in a desperate rhythm, rising and falling, straining as if it were the last time, slipping across the bed as the need consumed them both.

  Her climax took her to dizzying heights before dropping her in a long undulation of pleasure so deep it stole her breath. Matt followed, grinding into her one last time. “Evie,” he said as he found his release. “Oh God, Evie.”

  He hovered over her, his weight on his elbows, his hips gently rocking against her. He was still deliciously hard.

  Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, surprising her with their suddenness. She turned her head away, hoping Matt wouldn’t notice the wet trail in the dim moonlight stretching across their sweat-dampened bodies.

  “Don’t cry, Evie,” he whispered. So much for that thought.

  “I can’t help it.”

  It was too hard to keep it bottled up when she was so desperately in love and knew she would lose him in the morning. She’d thought she could do this, could spend this time with him and accept what he offered. She’d been mistaken.

  He silenced her tears with a kiss. “I’ll come back whenever I can.”

  Evie pressed her fingers to his lips to stop the words that would wrap around her heart and make her hope for something that would never happen. “Don’t make promises, Matt. Just give me tonight.”