God, he loved her.
His Meg, grown from battered young girl to fierce, hot woman, intelligent and funny and sexy. When she’d told him last night she wanted to end it because she didn’t trust him, it had felt as if she’d rammed a knife into his chest. He’d been willing to do anything to get her back, even tell her everything. Even put on that kinky little act with Adam by way of revealing his secret.
And it had worked.
With a groan of mingled passion and relief, he caught her by the back of the head and dragged her down into another desperate kiss. By the time he let her up again, her lovely green eyes were dazed.
He had no doubt his were, too.
He needed to touch her. Needed to pleasure her gently just as he’d dominated her the night before.
Richard reached for the bar of soap. She watched with hot, slumberous eyes as he worked a lather between his hands. “Sit up,” he said, his voice more than a little hoarse. “Astride me. I want to wash you.”
A little smile curving her mouth, she obeyed, planting a knee to either side of him. Richard caught her full, soft breasts in her hands, groaning at the feel of warm, silken skin. Gently, he caressed her with his soap-slick hands, not touching her urgently peaked nipples. Not yet. He traced his hands up, easily spanning her slim torso with his long fingers, finding the deceptive fragility of her shoulders, then sliding down her long, slender arms.
She was so delicate, so fragile. Whenever he thought about Bankbuster hurting her, he wanted to explode. He hoped to God the bastard never got out of prison, because Richard wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist the urge to kill him again. It had been all Lynx could do to talk him out of it the last time.
And that was before he’d fallen in love with Meg.
Now he stared up into those beautiful green eyes and watched them go vague with desire as he washed every inch of her slim body with soapy hands. Her head fell back, and her long hair brushed his wet thighs. The sweet tickle made him groan in lust.
Goaded, he reached between her pretty thighs and found the hard little nub of her clit with a forefinger. Slowly, gently, he circled it.
“God, Richard!” She arched her back convulsively as if reacting to raw, intense pleasure.
“Like that?” Wickedly, he gave her another stroke.
Meg looked down at him, a hot, wild glitter in her gaze. “Oh, yeah. In fact ...”
Before he could react, she reared off him, grabbed the thick erection trapped under her backside, and angled it upward. He hissed in startled pleasure as she found her opening and impaled herself in one long plunge.
“God, Meg!” he gasped.
She grinned. “Thought you’d like that.”
Then she planted those soft little hands on his chest and began to ride, jogging up and down on his cock as the water lapped and splashed around them. With every hot stroke, pleasure curled around his spine, coiling tighter and tighter over his balls.
Richard threw his head back, pressed his shoulders against the cool porcelain of the tub, and arched upward, grinding up as she ground down. He reached for her, catching her by both breasts, thumbing the peaks as she rode him at a sweet, fast bounce that drove him to madness.
“I love you, Meg!” he gasped, pleasure curling through his consciousness in ribbons of sweet flame.
Her eyes kindled with an incandescent joy. “God, I love you, Richard!”
And the fire took them both.
When they both could breathe again, they emerged weak-kneed from the tub to find the bathroom awash in bath water. Laughing, they collected towels and mopped it up, then staggered back to bed to collapse together in a damp, happy pile.
He rolled her under him, feeling her wrap long legs around him with a sigh of pleasure. “Marry me.”
Her eyes widened in surprise before pained vulnerability shuttered them. “Don’t make those kinds of jokes.”
Stung, he rose on one elbow. “I’m not joking. I’ve been thinking about this for months.” As she watched, he rolled over and slid open the top drawer of the nightstand to pull out a small, blue velvet box. With a thumb, he flicked up the lid, revealing an engagement ring set with diamonds and a single emerald the same pale green as her astonished eyes. He pulled the ring from its satin nest, took her left hand in his, and slid it onto her finger.
Her gaze flew to meet his, her lips parting in astonished shock. “You’re serious.”
“God, yes.”
“But ... But I was Sneak Thief! I robbed banks!”
“When you were a kid whose only alternative was being beaten to death by an abusive bastard. You’re not a kid anymore.” Gently he tilted her head up and bent down to kiss her. “You’re the woman I love.
By the time he let her up for air again, he could see the belief in her eyes.
So he asked her again. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes. Oh, God, yes.” She threw herself against him with a shout of joy and laughter. Relief surged through him, and he pulled her tight.
They were dressed and making plans over breakfast, Meg in a pair of snug blue jeans and a T-shirt she’d left on a previous visit. Richard, shirtless and clad only in a pair of black jeans, was just about to slide an omelet onto her plate when Adam skidded into the kitchen.
Richard looked up in alarm, recognizing the grim expression on his brother’s face. Adam had been on scanner duty down in the Lair; he must have heard something serious to get that look.
“Richard ...” Adam broke off, his blue gaze flicking to Meg’s startled face, obviously wondering how much he could say.
“Yeah, she knows all of it,” Richard said. “What’s going on?”
“Nightwolf’s escaped. Killed a guard.”
“Shit.” He dumped the omelet onto Meg’s plate, then strode to the sink and threw the frying pan in. “I’m going to have to go, sweetheart. We’ve got to catch that bastard before he kills somebody else.”
Together, the two men turned toward the great room and the hidden passage to the Cougar’s Lair.
Heart in her throat, Meg watched, frozen, as they started out. Nightwolf was an even bigger psychopath than Bankbuster.
And the man she loved was about to go up against him.
“Where’s my suit?” she demanded, jumping up to follow them. “I’m going with you!”
Startled, Adam whirled to look back at her, blond brows lifted. “No way. That guy is a killer, Meg. And you ...”
“... can fly and turn invisible. And he and my father were partners. The two of them had set up a new hideout before you caught Nightwolf the last time. I’ve been there. I’ll bet money that’s where he’s going now.”
Adam frowned, his GQ handsome face concerned. “Then you can tell us where it is and we’ll ...”
“Look, Richard trusted me with your secret. Trust me to take care of myself. I’ve been dodging assholes like Nightwolf for years.”
“Nightwolf is in a league by himself, Meg.”
“But she’s got a point, Adam,” Richard said suddenly, frowning. “Either we trust her, or we don’t.”
Adam turned to stare at him. “Are you nuts? We can’t take her into that kind of danger!”
Meg braced her fists on her hips and glared at them both. “And I’m not going to sit on my ass while the man I love goes off to fight a lunatic! Look, I can use my invisibility, fly in and reconnoiter, pinpoint exactly where he is, and help you take him with a minimum of risk to either of you.”
Slowly, Richard nodded. “Sounds good.”
Adam glowered, his expression troubled. “What if she gets hurt? I know how much you love her. If something happens ...”
Richard straightened his impressive shoulders in sudden determination. “Something can always happen. And I’ve learned the cost of not trusting Meg. It’s higher than I want to pay.”
Looking into Richard’s wolf-pale eyes, Meg smiled slowly as a bubble of warmth rose in her heart.
Pushing her suit as hard as she could, Meg flashed d
own the sewer tunnel, Nightwolf roaring in pursuit. “Bitch!” he raged. “I’m going to rip your fuckin’ head off and stuff that camera down your throat!”
“Only if you can catch me, Nighty!” Lowering her voice, she murmured into her new headset, “Here we come, boys.”
Nightwolf bellowed another string of vicious curses, sounding like a rampaging bull as he splashed after her.
He was gaining.
The opening of the tunnel was ten feet ahead, if she could only make it. Desperately, she flexed her toes, trying to wring a little more acceleration from the suit.
And shot out of the tunnel like a bullet.
Nightwolf thundered after her -- just as Cougar stepped into his path and launched a savage roundhouse that hit him square in the face. The villain’s feet flew out from under him as he went flying back into the tunnel.
Cougar and Lynx lunged after him before he could roll to his feet. Heart in her throat, Meg floated in to watch as the three fought in a frenzy of punches and kicks. It seemed to her that Cougar pounded his fists into Nightwolf with even more grim fury than usual. It wasn’t long until the villain went down and didn’t get back up.
“Damn, I don’t think we’ve ever taken Nighty this easily,” Lynx said, snapping the cuffs around Nightwolf’s thick wrists. “We’ll have to use that trick again.”
“Told you it would work,” Meg said smugly, maintaining a careful hover well clear of the murky water.
“You did good,” Cougar told her. “Despite the five minutes of stark terror after you set off that flash in his face.”
Indignantly she said, “I wasn’t that scared!”
He looked at her. “I was.”
Lynx nodded. “Me, too.” He reached into a belt pouch and brought out a small cloth patch, then slapped it against Nightwolf’s thick forehead. It would keep the man out until they could get him into custody.
Cougar swung the villain into a fireman’s carry, then started off down the tunnel with him, his partner splashing at his heels. Meg, visible again, floated after them. Adrenaline was still snapping and sizzling through her body, filling her with a certain wicked recklessness. “So,” she purred, “after we drop off the creep -- anybody in the mood for another ... hero sandwich?”
Startled, Lynx looked over his shoulder at her, then at his brother, both brows lifted.
Cougar gave him a wicked grin. “Now that you mention it, I am feeling a little hungry.”
Lynx cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t mind a bite. But I thought you two were ...” He trailed off.
“Oh, we are,” Cougar said. “Deeply. But every once in a while -- the three of us do make a pretty good team.”
“Oooooh, yeah,” Meg breathed with wicked anticipation. “A very, very good team.”
Angela Knight
Angela Knight's first book was written in pencil and illustrated in crayon; she was nine years old at the time. But her mother was enthralled, and Angela was hooked.
In the years that followed, Angela managed to figure out a way to make a living -- more or less -- at what she loved best: writing. After a short career as a comic book writer, she became a newspaper reporter, covering everything from school board meetings to murders. Several of her stories won South Carolina Press Association awards under her real name.
Along the way, she found herself playing Lois Lane to her detective husband's Superman. He'd go off to solve murders, and she'd sneak around after him trying to find out what was going on. The only time things got really uncomfortable was the day she watched him hunt pipe bombs, an experience she never wants to repeat.
But her first writing love has always been romance. She read The Wolf and The Dove at 15, at least until her mother caught her at it.
In 1996, she discovered the small press publisher Red Sage, and realized her dream of romance publication in the company's Secrets 2 anthology.
Whatever success she has enjoyed, she attributes to the marvelous editors she's had over the years. David Anthony Kraft and Dwight Zimmerman at Comics Interview taught her the nuts and bolts of fiction writing. Alexandria Kendall of Red Sage encouraged her to believe in herself. Tina Engler at Ellora's Cave introduced her to still more readers. And she will be forever grateful to Berkley editor Cindy Hwang, who saw potential in her work.
But that success would be hollow without the love of her husband, Michael, and her son, Anthony. Her parents, Gayle and Paul, have been unfailing in their support and encouragement. Her sister Angela, whose name she adopted, was her first and most helpful editor. The help of her friend and critique partner, Diane Whiteside, has also been invaluable.
With such friends and family, it's no surprise Angela Knight considers herself a profoundly lucky woman.
Angela Knight - Hero Sandwich Page 4