Texas Stand-Off

by Sable Hunter

  She pressed her lips together. He didn’t think she was capable of crossing the street on her own. Well, they’d just see about that– She unbuckled her seat belt, opened the door and slipped out of the truck. By the time he got back, she’d have their dinner.

  A few minutes later… Deacon slipped the keycard into his front pocket. He hadn’t realized he was hungry until Taz mentioned it. With a smile, he patted his stomach. He had two appetites to satisfy tonight. Check-in took longer than he’d anticipated. There’d been only one clerk and she’d been dealing with a couple who insisted on twin beds. He sure as hell felt sorry for that poor guy married to a woman who had to have her ‘space’.

  As he walked toward the automatic doors, he vowed to talk some sense into Grey. He’d set up a meeting for Deacon and Taz to meet with the little boy’s parents first thing in the morning and hopefully they’d have a plan to get onto the Ainsley property by afternoon. Rice and Burgess were making more demands, so they hadn’t yet received the green light. But the suggestion that Natasha be the one to take the risk was totally unacceptable to him.

  Exiting the motel lobby, he headed to his truck. Glancing in the window, he saw an empty cab. “Well, hell.” He looked around and caught sight of her, hurrying across the road with two white bags in her hands. “I thought I told you to stay put!”

  The smile on her pretty face faded a bit. “I just wanted to help. I got jalapenos on our burgers!” Holding up the sacks, she gave him a hopeful look.

  “That’s not the point,” he said, climbing behind the wheel. “I need to be able to trust you. Get in.”

  Taz was disappointed–in herself and in him too. “I’m sorry. This was such a simple thing. We have to make quick decisions and my judgment is good. Sometimes plans have to change.”

  Yes, he knew plans could change. He was battling with that very thing. “Yea, my plan is to spank your sassy little butt so you’ll remember what I tell you next time.”

  His suggestion made her gasp–partly in shock and partly with arousal. “You wouldn’t dare.” Her eyes grew wide and her heart began to palpitate.

  “Oh, yea, babe. I dare. You can take that to the bank.”

  Deacon’s long mane of golden blond hair reminded Taz of a lion. She swallowed, liking the comparison very much. “I think I’d rather go to our room than the bank.”

  He broke the tension by laughing. “This time I agree with your logic.” He eased the truck across the parking lot to a stop in front of the room. “This place isn’t fancy, just your run of the mill motel. Here, give me the food, I’ll carry it and I’ll get the luggage in if you want to freshen up.”

  They’d been on the road for a while, a shower would feel nice. “This part of Texas is so much different than the central area where you’re from, Deacon.”

  “Yep, you’re right.” He opened the door and out of habit quickly checked the room. “North Texas is flat. It blends right in with Oklahoma and Kansas. We’re right smack dab in Hurricane Alley here.” At her questioning expression, he explained. “They call this area and up north through Kansas ‘tornado alley’ because many tornadoes form and move through this corridor of land.”

  “Yes, I’ve seen The Wizard of OZ.”

  “Me too, but I don’t think the Tin Man or the Cowardly Lion are going to be much help.” Deacon noticed she was chewing her lip, deep in thought. “Make yourself comfortable.” He set the restaurant bags on a small round table. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay.” He was right. She’d stayed in several places like this and they all looked the same. Standard layout. Drab colors. The only interesting thing was a large painting over the bed of the Alamo. She’d liked that movie even though it was sad.

  One bed. She stared, anticipating sharing it with Deacon. Was this wise? He wouldn’t change his mind, no matter how well she performed on this mission. His ingrained convictions were stronger than any proof of her abilities she could provide. As she envisioned Deacon lounging on the bed, hands behind his head, muscles rippling–she licked her lips. The years stretching before her might be lonely, she had no idea what they held. This uncertainty made her want to grab every bit of happiness she could–and being with Deacon made her happy.

  With that awareness, she hurried to get cleaned up, and as she’d heard so often in the movies, – ‘slip into something more comfortable’.

  When Deacon returned to the room, he heard the shower running. He contemplated joining her, but the idea of standing in the bright light, naked, in his prosthesis didn’t appeal to him. At home, he had a teak bench to sit on to shower–God! –he hated being handicapped. To give Taz credit, she’d restored his confidence to a degree. If they were together any length of time, he’d probably lose all of his insecurity.

  Lucky for him, she’d come along. He smiled, not missing the irony. She wasn’t a ‘devil in disguise’, as he’d first thought. The woman was an angel of mercy.

  When he heard the water cut off, he yelled. “Hurry up! The food’s getting cold!”

  Inside the bathroom, Taz spun in a circle, grabbing a towel to fluff her hair. Despite her desire to dress provocatively, she realized she’d brought absolutely nothing sexy with her. The best she could do was a pink knee-length sleep shirt with ‘and though she be little, SHE IS FIERCE’ on it in bold silver letters. She didn’t even have any makeup with her, not that she ever wore much. “Oh well, this will have to do.”

  When the door opened and Taz walked out, Deacon almost dropped the soda he’d been raising to his mouth. “Damn, girl. You’re as cute as a speckled pup.” The message emblazoned across her impressive chest didn’t escape him. “You didn’t buy that shirt for yourself, did you?”

  “Athena bought it for me when I stayed with her while we wrapped up a burglary ring case.” She tugged on the hem, wishing it were a bit longer. “I didn’t have anything else to wear.”

  “No, no, it’s perfect.” He held out a chair for her. “I think you’re beautiful.” Deacon had never been good at romance, but compliments for Natasha came easily to his lips.

  “Thank you.” She settled in her chair, reaching for a napkin to spread over her lap. “I think I’m more comfortable with you when you’re sniping at me.”

  “I don’t snipe. I coach. I teach.” He opened the sacks. “Which one’s mine?”

  “They’re alike. I saw a jar of jalapenos in your pantry, so I thought you’d like them. No onions, though.” She took a deep breath and just said what she was thinking. “I thought our kisses would taste better without onions.”

  Desire just swamped Deacon like a flashflood. “Sometimes you say the darndest things, Levin.” He considered skipping the burger and just feasting on her. “If I didn’t need my strength for sex, I’d just dine on you.”

  “I can wait,” she added placidly and he chuckled.

  A ding on his phone let Deacon know he had an email. Taking a bite, he held it up to look. “Grey.” He touched the screen to open the message. As he ate, he looked through what he’d been sent. “Hell.” He let out a breath. “I’ll let you look at these in a bit. He’s sent maps, pictures and information available on all the people involved. He’s still insisting you be the one to go in, but I disagree. We’ll have to study these and plan some kind of exit strategy. We’ve got to get the little boy out and to do that, this is going to have to come to an end. I don’t see any other way.”

  She ate silently and waited her turn. When he gave her his phone, she read everything carefully. “We need to know how the interior of the house is laid out.”

  “I doubt there’s blueprints available on file anywhere. Who knows? The old man might have built it himself.”

  Taz nodded. “We should talk to the neighbors, maybe they could tell us.”

  “Good idea,” Deacon conceded. He watched her face as she focused–damn, her lips were plump and sweet. He picked up his napkin and wiped his hands and mouth. “You know I find smart to be mighty sexy.”

  To his ever-loving su
rprise, she handed him back his phone, gave him a saucy wink and smiled. “Me too.”

  With a low snarl of erotic intent, Deacon slowly stood. “You about finished?”

  “No…” she teased, so glad she recalled a piece of appropriate sexual banter, “but I’m ready for dessert.” Taz had waited a long time to be able to say that to someone.

  When she looked up at him with those big doe eyes and that sexy little grin, he knew she had him wrapped around her little finger and wasn’t even aware of it. With deliberate moves, he began to unbutton his shirt, taking his time to move around the table and toward her.

  Watching him approach, she knew what a cornered gazelle felt like being stalked by a hungry lion. She stood, her breath coming fast and shallow. Words were unnecessary, so she nervously licked her lips.

  “Here, let me do that for you.” With one fell swoop, he clasped her hands and walked her backwards into the wall, holding his arms high, pressing his palms to the wall while still holding her hands captive.

  Taz felt herself go liquid against him, gasping as he bent his head, doing exactly as he’d said–using his own tongue to caress her lips. She felt her knees give way. There was no moving, though–for his body anchored hers firmly in place. Licking over her mouth, he pressed, demanding she open to him. With a whimper of acquiescence, her lips parted so his tongue could gain entrance. And when it did, he groaned his pleasure.

  Open-mouth kisses–hot–wet. She pushed her breasts into his chest, wishing there was no barrier between them. Stealing her breath, he gave it back, taking little bites at her lips, before capturing her tongue and sucking on it.

  Taz went on tiptoe, she felt like her clit was on fire. Desperate to be closer, she pushed her hips against his, opening her legs wide enough to allow him to thrust his knee between them. When she felt the hard flesh of his thigh rub against her greedy sex, she bumped forward riding his leg. The friction felt so good she thought she might pass out.

  Deacon braced himself, making damn sure he didn’t lose his balance. His little doll was finding her pleasure by scrubbing that sweet pussy on his leg and he wasn’t about to ask her to stop. Dragging his mouth from hers, he let his lips slide to her neck–sucking and biting the soft flesh. “That’s right baby, hump my leg, it feels so good.”

  Oh, God. She was behaving badly, but she couldn’t help it. “Give me your eyes,” she whispered. When he did, his flashed, heating her more. She shattered in a million pieces. “Deacon!”

  “I need to see you, touch you.” He let his hands find the hem of her shirt. Pulling it up and off, he feasted his eyes on her naked tits. “I’m going to eat you alive, sugar.” With both hands, he grasped the top edge of her panties and ripped, the tiny fragment of lace giving way.

  “Deacon!” She didn’t protest, instead she began pushing his shirt off his shoulders and peppering his skin with kisses. Accomplishing that task, she set to work on his belt and the button of his fly, working feverishly to find his naked flesh. All the while, he was cupping and molding her breasts, milking the nipples and tasting her lips. Her fingers trembled, her heart beating as fast as the flutter of hummingbird wings.

  “Those little hands will be the death of me,” he murmured as she pushed his briefs down, freeing his cock. He couldn’t help but smile when she moaned, a sign of satisfaction once she got her hands on him.

  Between kisses, she panted words. “I know…about a dozen…ways…to kill a man…with my bare…hands.” Responding hotly, she stroked his cock and massaged his balls, acting as if there was nothing she wanted more.

  As she fisted his cock, he tweaked a nipple and finger-fucked her sweet pussy. “This must be number thirteen.” When she angled her hips and hooked one leg behind his, he knew she needed what only he could give. “Wait, honey. I don’t think I can hold you up and keep standing. I’m afraid to risk dropping you.”

  His tone was apologetic. “Let me help,” she offered. “Let’s get you undressed and I’ll help you with your prosthesis.” She went to her knees at his feet, ready to tug off a boot.

  “I gotta better idea. Let me keep it on for a bit. Get on the bed on all fours.”

  Fantasy-fulfilling time. Funny, they’d been discussing his disability naturally–no shame, no judging–just mutual hunger. With his pants and briefs around his calves, the place where his stump nestled in the cup of the prosthesis was clearly visible. So what? His cock was hard, his woman wanted only him and he wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass.

  The sight of her kneeling before him, the lovely line of her spine, the swell of her hips–he couldn’t resist. “Remember when I told you I was going to spank your sassy little butt?”

  “Yes,” she answered with a whisper.

  Coming closer, he ran both hands over the swell of her ass. “Beautiful.”

  She expected a swat and braced for it. She’d read about women who enjoyed spankings and had no idea if she would or not. But she was willing to try anything for Deacon. “I’m ready.”

  When she wiggled her plump, round bottom in front of him, Deacon felt his hips jerk in response. Taking his cock in hand, he used it to spank her. Several sharp raps on each cheek. Taz looked back over his shoulder and moved backward, wanting more. “Like that?” he asked. God, he did–he fuckin’ loved it.

  “Oh, yes,” she whimpered, then gave him her act of complete submission. She pressed her face into the pillow, spread her legs and tilted her hips up, giving him a full and complete view of her soft femininity. It was swollen, pink and glistening with cream.

  Deacon wanted to taste her, but he didn’t have the strength to wait. Guiding his cock, he dragged the head between her legs, bathing himself in her juices. A luxurious feeling of indulgence enveloped him–and he wanted it again and again. Up and down, he pushed the tip against her clit, giving her a hint of ecstasy to come.

  “You’re teasing me. Will you accept a bribe?” Frustrated little pants punctuated her words.

  “Maybe.” He flexed his hips, working his cock up and down the lips of her labia. “What are you offering?”

  “Two blowjobs and a dozen chocolate chip cookies.”

  “You got cookies?”

  “I’ll get cookies!” she shouted with a giggle. “Just fuck me already!”

  “Demanding little Russian.” His words were tender, his actions sure. Placing the tip of his aching cock at the mouth of her vagina he surged into her with one hard thrust. A grateful gasp sprang from her lips.

  Taz arched her back absorbing the complete invasion, the exquisite stretching of her body to accommodate his. “Now, I’m happy.”

  She held herself up on her hands and pushed backwards, impaling herself as deep on his cock as she could go–and then she flexed her muscles in an intoxicating rhythm which stole his sanity. He had to move. Dropping down, he let go. With one hand on the mattress, he began feathering kisses all along her back as his hips pumped his cock in and out of the tight glove of her pussy. He thrust harder and faster, holding himself up on one hand while he fondled her tits with the other.

  The power with which he possessed her was almost overwhelming to Taz. She closed her eyes, relishing the heaven she was experiencing. Her body jarred, her breasts jiggled. His hands held her close, his lips pressed heated kisses on her skin. Never had she expected to feel like this–never had she expected anyone like Deacon Jones to come into her life. Being with him was like facing the wild winds of a raging hurricane.

  “Let go, baby,” he whispered. “I’m not going to last. Cum for me.”

  As if his command flipped an erotic switch, she succumbed to his will. Her climax flared, blazing out of control. “Deacon!” she screamed, her body convulsing in rapturous contractions.

  Feeling her flying apart in his arms, he moved harder and faster–driving into her with primal intensity. With every pump of his hips, his cock slid in and out of her. With greedy hunger, he spread kisses over her back, nipping the soft flesh near her collarbone, rubbing his whiskers ove
r the velvety skin.

  It was difficult for Taz to remain upright, but she wasn’t about to let him down. He filled her over and over again–an endless swarm of erotic tremors. She closed her eyes, bit her lip and just hung on, riding out the wave of ecstasy. And then he stopped, his whole body shaking, and he let out a sound, so masculine in its beauty that she almost cried. A warm flood of his seed filled her. She milked him, not only to bring him added pleasure but to claim all of him she could.

  With a heavy sigh, he rolled off of her to lay flat, gathering Taz close. “You’ll never know how much I needed that,” he murmured, tucking her head to his shoulder.

  He’d never know how much she needed him. The thought rose in her mind, haunting her. She nestled against him, rubbing her hand up and down his arm. When his breathing quieted, Taz realized he’d drifted off. Easing away, she got up as cautiously as she could and began to remove his clothes–shoes first, then socks. Next, she pulled his pants and underwear off, then inspected the prosthesis and unlatched the shuttle-lock, removing it and the gel liner gently from his leg. His flesh was red and she longed to soothe it with something, but she didn’t want to awaken him.

  Deacon was already awake. He’d frozen when she began her ministrations, gazing down at her through the shield of his eyelashes. There was no hesitancy, no look of disgust, nothing but a look of…love on her face.

  For the space of a stolen moment, he basked in the feeling. What did the future hold for them? As she settled back down beside him, her arm curled over his waist and her cheek rested against his chest. She snuggled as deep into his embrace as she could get. He didn’t know the answer to his question, but the first order of business was for both of them to survive this quest. After that–he was afraid to hope. Fate hadn’t been kind to Deacon, maybe his time had come. Maybe this beautiful woman he held in his arms was his future.

  * * *

  “Let me do the talking,” he ordered as they drove up to the hotel where they were supposed to meet with the BLM agent and his wife.