Midnight Ranger

by Kris Norris

  Bridgette hummed, opening when he slid his tongue along the seam of her lips. Fruity sweetness filled his senses, and Sam knew he’d never be able to stop at one kiss. Hell, one round of mind-blowing sex wouldn’t be enough to douse the fire raging beneath his skin.

  Bridgette didn’t move once he’d eased back, her pretty gaze locked on him. She licked her lips, and he lost it. He dipped down, again, twisted her mouth open then plunged inside. She battled him for control, finally allowing him to dominate the kiss.

  That one surrender had him lifting her in his arms. He glanced at the wall but decided against it. If she’d spiraled by having him over her, pinning her to the wall wouldn’t be any better. And the last thing he wanted was to give her a reason to ask him to stop. To let her go because he swore his fingers wouldn’t release their death grip on her towel.

  A breathy moan caressed his ear as he planted her ass on the counter then stepped between her thighs, hoping it wasn’t too confining for her. He nuzzled her nose, their breath mixing. Indecision clouded her gaze, and he nearly pulled back, then it vanished, replaced by lust.

  She toyed with his hair. “This is probably a terrible idea.”

  He smiled, dipping down to lave her neck—lick her pulse still beating wildly beneath her flesh. “The worst.”

  “It’ll screw up our working relationship.”

  He nodded, mouthing her nape then nipping her earlobe. “Probably, but…” He lifted his head until they made eye contact. “I’ve got plenty of colleagues.”

  Her eyelids fluttered closed, and he took that as a sign to continue. He kissed her, again, taking his time to trace every contour before releasing her and working his way to the edge of the towel. He inched back just enough to yank the edges apart, allowing the terry to drop to the countertop.

  Sam took a moment to admire the creamy expanse of skin. The splash of pink on her nipples, and the line of trimmed hair along her mound—like a damn arrow pointing to where he planned on spending the next hour joined to her. He wet his lips, groaning at the shiny evidence of her desire coating her pussy before finally looking her in the eyes.

  “Christ, you’re even more beautiful than I remember. And I’d memorized every inch of you. Pictured you countless times in the past dozen years. But, damn…my imagination didn’t do you justice.” He leaned in. “Tell me you want this. I need to know for sure.”

  She swallowed, never breaking eye contact. “I want this. It’s just…”

  He smiled, thumbing the corner of her mouth. “No trapping you. Got it. Do you feel trapped, now?”

  She shook her head, bouncing her hair around her shoulders.

  “Good.” He slipped his holster onto the counter beside them. “Because there are countless naughty things I can do to you on this crappy old counter.”

  Her eyes widened right before he captured her mouth. He palmed her back, moaning at the soft press of her skin beneath his hands. Bridgette fisted his shirt behind his neck, tugging at it in what he assumed was a desperate attempt to pull it over his head. He made her wait until his lungs burned before easing back and dropping his chin.

  The blue cotton slipped over his shoulders, falling to the floor at his feet. He straightened, intent on pressing every inch of her skin against his, when her palms landed on his chest, anchoring him to the spot. Her eyes rounded as her lips parted to form a lopsided O. She made that same throaty noise as she traced her fingers along his pecs then down his ribs. A frown marred her pretty face when she skimmed her fingertips across his collection of scars, finally raising her gaze to his.

  Sam covered her hands with his, holding them firmly against him. “Ancient history.”

  She opened her mouth, but he leaned forward and claimed it, allowing her hands to slip free from his grasp. They slid down to his jeans, her fingers working to pop open the button and lower the zipper, which he knew wouldn’t be easy with his dick stretching the fabric to the limit.

  Bridgette moaned when she finally opened his fly, cupping his cock through his briefs. The firm contact nearly sent him over, and he had to press his fists against the counter to stop from spilling against her palm.

  “Hold that thought.”

  She stilled as he grabbed his jeans and shoved them over his hips, taking his briefs with them. His dick sprang forward the instant he freed it, slapping wetly against her stomach.

  Bridgette closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath before looking up at him. “I could help you out with that. Suck you dry, first.”

  A blowjob. He was barely hanging on to his control, and she wanted to give him a blowjob.

  “Next time. Some time, but now…”

  He slid his palms up her thighs, grazing his thumbs over her mound. Slick fluid covered his skin, and he couldn’t stop from shoving his hand beneath her ass and pulling her forward as he thrust inside, burying himself to the hilt.

  Bridgette gasped as her head tilted back, the cords in her neck straining. Sam didn’t move, didn’t fucking breathe, as her wet heat engulfed him. He stared at where they were joined, her groin crushed against his. Fire licked down his spine and into his sac, threatening to end their encounter with his first stroke.

  He forced himself to hold still, allow her time to adjust, when he realized he hadn’t put on a condom. A laugh sounded in his head, and he knew his buddy was mocking his carelessness, yet again.

  Sam dragged his gaze upward, meeting hers when she lowered her head. Her pupils were blown wide, her skin now a beautiful shade of pink. Her chest heaved against his with every gasping inhale as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

  She nipped at his earlobe, her breath cooling his damp flesh. “God, please, Sam. Move.”

  He clenched his teeth when she tightened around him, squeezing him so hard he thought his shaft would simply explode. “I have condoms. I swear I do. Shit, they might even be flavored, but… They aren’t helping us much sitting in my damn wallet and not on my dick. I’m clean. Get tested regularly, but… I never forget protection, until, apparently, now. With you. And, once I move…”

  Her expression softened, her lips curling up into a sexy smile. “I’m on birth control. And I’m clean. I’ve never gone without before, either. So…”

  He leaned his head back until he made eye contact. “Are you saying we can go bareback? Every time?” Just the thought had his cock pulsing inside her.

  She moaned, angling her head to the side as if asking him to lick her nape. “Damn, you’re big.”

  He complied, tasting the hint of salt on her skin. “Answer me because I can’t hold off much longer.”

  “Yes. God, yes.”

  He snapped. The heat, the wet glide of her sex, the give of her flesh around his overloaded his senses, and he let loose—thrusting into her as he held her on the edge of the counter. Bridgette clung to him, crossing her ankles behind his back and using them to tilt her pelvis—meet every punishing stroke. He kept her steady as his other hand cupped her neck, allowing him to claim her mouth.

  He swallowed her raspy pleas, finally easing back enough to stare at her. “Only the first round. God, what you do to me.”

  He lowered his forehead to hers, wondering if she was half as close as he was, when she gasped then arched back. Male pride swelled in his chest as her eyes rolled slightly, her walls contracting around his shaft.

  “Oh, yeah, darling. Come all over me.”

  A rush of warm fluid sent him over. He slammed into her a few more times then stiffened, holding himself still as his release shot forward, emptying inside her in a series of hard spurts. Sweat slicked his skin, the steam from the shower curling around them.

  Sam closed his eyes, lost in the racing of his heart and the steady wash of breath against his shoulder. He just prayed he hadn’t been too rough. He was supposed to be proving he could be trusted, not fucking her against any handy surface. But…damn.

  He drew in a shaky breath, easing back enough to stare down at her. “You okay?”

>   She blinked open her eyes, looking up at him as if he was the answer to something she’d been searching for before chuckling. “Not a virgin, Sam. So, yeah. I’m fine. Better than fine, actually. Especially if you’re going to hold true to your word and that was only round one, because…” She licked her bottom lip. “That wasn’t close to being enough.”

  “Was that your way of saying you didn’t enjoy yourself? Are you questioning my ability to please you?”

  “Paranoid much? That was mind-blowing, but…” Her chin quivered. “I need more. More time with you. I don’t want this to be over, yet.”

  “Nowhere close to over, Bridg. Which means, it’s time for a shower, and this time, I’m gonna make you scream.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  This time, I’m going to make you scream.

  His words repeated inside Bridgette’s head, making it hard to move the few steps over to the shower. Usually, overt challenges like that struck a nerve. Made her back away—distance herself from any chance of a confrontation. But the way Sam said it—gravelly tones in a low, raspy voice that ignited the desire just starting to cool in the pit of her stomach—hit a different nerve. The one she’d buried that night with Brock. The part of her that longed for more than just passing encounters orchestrated around her obvious issues.

  This time, she wanted everything.

  Wanted to trace every inch of Sam’s body. Feel him give himself over to her. But, more than anything, she wanted to give herself completely to him. Have him hold her close as he slid into her, their gazes locked, only his face and incredibly wide shoulders visible in her field of view. She wanted to know what it was like to have his weight pressed against her, holding her in place with nothing but his cock moving inside her.

  A shiver beaded her skin with bumps. What the hell was wrong with her? Less than twenty minutes ago, she’d had her own version of a panic attack because Sam had been in that exact position—on his elbows above her, his body long and hard against hers. Yet, one quick round of sex, and everything had changed.

  Not everything. Just her. Though, she doubted she’d actually changed. More that she’d stopped fighting her attraction. And it wasn’t the sex that had undone her. It had been that first kiss. As soon as his lips had touched hers, the walls she’d spent the past several years building had crumbled, leaving her exposed. It should have frightened her, but all she felt was relief.

  Sam’s hand landed on the small of her back, guiding her over to the shower. That’s when she realized he hadn’t demolished the walls as much as he’d scaled them then made his way inside. Like a key fitting into a lock. Only one possible combination.

  “Cold?”

  She glanced at him. God, the man was gorgeous. Firm muscles beneath taut, sun-kissed skin. He wasn’t jarhead big. He was tightly strung, like a man who could move fast without compromising his strength. And she couldn’t wait to run her tongue all over his body.

  Her gaze drifted to his groin. Even semi-erect, he was large. Far thicker than the other men she’d been with. Just another reason no one else had ever seemed to measure up. They’d been judged against an impossible standard.

  Sam laughed. “You keep looking at me like that and we won’t make it into the shower before I wrap you around me, again.”

  Her breath caught. He was serious. The way his gaze bored into hers. The firm line of his shoulders. The tension in his muscles. He was holding on but barely.

  She wet her lips, groaning when he leaned in just enough to have her trace his, as well. He nodded at the tub, and she managed to scramble over the side without falling on her face. Not that she would have with Sam’s hand wrapped around her arm—as if he was afraid she’d vanish if he let go. But she considered it a win, seeing as her knees felt as if they might buckle at any moment.

  Sam stepped in behind her, pulling her back against his chest before turning her into the spray. Warm water cascaded over her skin, easing the strain in her muscles—strain she hadn’t realized was there. She relaxed, leaning against him as he grabbed a bar of soap and ran it across her stomach.

  He hummed against her neck, dipping down to suck at her flesh, his hand still making lazy circles across her body, leaving a trail of suds. “Christ, you’re beautiful. I love the way you fit against me.” He swirled his soapy fingers up one side then down the other, pausing at the raised scar on her left side. “Fucking bastard.”

  She placed her hand over his, glancing at him across her shoulder. “What did you say earlier? Ancient history?”

  “Not the same. I chose to enlist. I knew full well what could happen. What I’d signed up for. That I might not make it out alive—or that I might have to live with the kind of injuries that scar you forever. This…this was because some sick prick thought he owned you. It’s not remotely the same, and if he ever comes after you, again…”

  He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to. Bridgette knew how it ended. With Brock dead, his blood staining Sam’s soul for the rest of his life. Not that Sam seemed to be worried about the state of his soul. Maybe he’d lost too much of it overseas. Buried it along with Gray after their last mission. Either way, she didn’t want to think about Brock or how her work put her at risk. She wanted to live in the moment. Savor it. Have something other than regret to look back on when this assignment was over, and Sam moved on.

  Sam nuzzled her neck. “Sorry. That’s not the train of conversation that’s going to lead to more of you writhing in my arms. It just guts me to think you went through all of that alone. That you didn’t feel you could tell anyone. Call on someone for help.”

  Call on me.

  He didn’t say it, but the unspoken thought hung between them, tightening her chest as tears gathered in her eyes.

  Bridgette turned in his arms, sliding her hands up to his shoulders. “It might have been a little late, but I told you. And I’m not alone, right now.”

  She slanted her mouth over his, allowing him to expend some of the energy straining his muscles. If she’d learned anything about the man he’d become it was that he felt a soul-deep need to protect the people around him. And just because he wasn’t in the military any longer didn’t mean he’d been able to shut that side of him off. It was in his blood.

  Sam slid his palms along her back. He twisted them then pressed her against the wall before freezing. He pulled away, muttering something under his breath as he forced his hands to his sides.

  “Sam?”

  “Let’s get clean, so we can get dirty, again. Because being inside you with nothing between us…”

  His nostrils flared, and his cock twitched, hardening under her gaze. She held out her hand, motioning for him to give her the soap. He arched his brow but handed her the bar, smiling when she rubbed it across his chest, covering every inch of skin she could reach.

  “Damn. You are one fine-looking man. I can’t imagine how long it took you to get this ripped.”

  He snorted, palming her hips as she continued down his ribs. “You’d be surprised how quickly things change when you’re busting your ass twenty hours a day.”

  She paused, looking up at him. “Did you ever question yourself? Wonder if you had what it took to make it?”

  As soon as the question slipped out, she regretted it. No way a man like Sam had ever doubted anything. Not with all he’d accomplished. After their unlikely reunion, she’d researched what it took to become an Army Ranger. To say she’d been humbled was an understatement. And projecting her own insecurities on him wasn’t getting them any closer to round two.

  Sam gave her a squeeze. “Lost count of the number of times I told Gray we should just pack it in. Run away to some beach and drink Mia Tais. He’d always laugh and say, ‘Hell yeah, we’ll quit tomorrow.’ But tomorrow never seemed to come.”

  She froze. “Really?”

  “Everyone has doubts, darling. Success is pushing through despite them.” He tilted his head. “Have you been having doubts?”

  She snorted, rubbing her hands acros
s his stomach. “Don’t get me wrong. The satisfaction of putting scum like Stevens where he belongs is indescribable. But, lately, I feel like I’m just going through the motions. Doing what I’m expected to do. I used to get this rush. Now…sometimes, when I get a new case, I just find it hard to breathe.” She shrugged. “Forget it. I’m sure it’s just the stress.”

  Sam grabbed her hands, holding them still until she gazed up at him. “It’s never too late to find a new passion. You know that, right? Life’s too short to spend it following a dream you no longer believe in.”

  “Not all of us get a second chance.”

  “You’re right. You have to make it, yourself. Speaking of second chances… You’d best get the important parts clean before I realize how much I love the thought of my cum dripping down your legs for the foreseeable future.”

  She inhaled, quickly cleaning the rest of him before dropping her hand to his cock. Sam clenched his jaw as she ran her fingers up and down his length, cleaning away the evidence of their combined releases. His shaft thickened, resting hot and hard in her palm as she shifted enough to wash away the soap.

  She licked her lips, wanting nothing more than to drop to her knees and make him lose control, again. “Tell me, Sam. How much would you like to see your cum dripping from my mouth? Splattered across my chest?”

  The muscle in his temple jumped as his fingers flexed at her hips. “Bridgette.”

  “Do you know how much I want to taste you? Watch you give yourself to me? I bet I could make you see stars.”

  He stopped her from kneeling in front of him. “Soon, darling, I promise, but first…” He blew out a forced breath as his muscles tensed. “I need you. I need to feel you clenched around me, your flesh hot and wet against mine. I…”