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Secret Surrogate

Page 15

by Delores Fossen


  That stopped Lucas. Kylie stopped, as well. But neither of them turned back to face Dupont.

  “I don’t like people who cause for trouble for me,” Isaac Dupont warned. “My advice? Think about that when you try to sleep tonight.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kylie took her prenatal vitamin and washed it down with a few gulps of milk. With that daily task finished, she sat on the sofa and listened to Lucas do one of the things he did best—be a cop.

  Earlier, after they’d left SAPD headquarters, he’d called and arranged for a private security guard and a neighboring deputy sheriff to patrol the ranch. Now he was in contact with both of them and was giving instructions as to where they should set up security and surveillance.

  Along with Sheriff Knight’s deputy, that would give them three extra pairs of hands in case the gunmen decided to make a return visit. The extra hands were necessary because despite other phone calls, it appeared Lucas wasn’t having much luck securing them a safe house.

  That probably meant staying at the ranch again.

  It was going to be a long night.

  Kylie tried not to let the concern register on her face or in her body language. Hard to suppress something like that, though, especially since they still had a boarded-up window from the previous night’s attack.

  The entire house was dark; the only light came from the moon, and those meager rays filtered in through the edges of the plantation blinds and curtains, which were all shut tight, as well. Neither Lucas nor she had gone near a window. And the alarms were set. All the doors were double-locked.

  They hadn’t stopped there. Both of them had their shoulder holsters, guns and extra magazines of ammunition lying on the coffee table just inches away. Wherever they went tonight, the guns and ammo would go with them.

  Lucas ended his call and sank down on the sofa next to her. “I haven’t given up. I’m still trying to arrange for a place for us to stay.”

  “And let me guess—you’re not going through SAPD to do that?” Kylie asked.

  “Not after hearing Kendrick Windham brag about the friends he has in law enforcement.”

  Yes, that had unnerved her, too. Of course, Windham hadn’t brought up that point during the interview with the SAPD detective. Kylie had listened for any nuance of a threat or any shred of useful information.

  Nothing.

  Windham had been cordial. Polite, even. Definitely not menacing. But the damage had already been done. Well, if there could be any more damage to her peace of mind. She wasn’t sure she had any peace of mind left.

  “I don’t want us to arrive at a safe house only to discover that it’s a trap,” Lucas added. “I considered a hotel.”

  Kylie was already shaking her head before he had finished. “Too hard to secure. Plus, we could endanger civilians if the shooter opened fire. And I have no doubt that he or she is gutsy enough to open fire regardless of the collateral damage it’d cause.”

  He nodded. “There’s the jail,” he pointed out.

  The drawback was that it was literally in the center of Fall Creek, surrounded by shops, businesses and homes. “It wouldn’t be any easier to secure than the ranch. Not unless you’re willing to deputize the entire town.”

  “That’s a scary thought. There are some people you just don’t want to have in control of a deadly weapon.”

  Yes. At least a dozen came to mind.

  Finn included.

  Lucas blew out a weary breath. “We could just leave, drive to the airport in San Antonio or Houston and get on the first plane that’s headed out of the state.”

  She’d thought of that, too. “What if the person responsible for this has us followed? Then, we’re in Bermuda or wherever, and we have no backup. Plus, we wouldn’t even be able to carry our guns on the plane. When we landed, we’d be practically defenseless.” She paused, noted the additional frustration that her answer caused Lucas. “Staying here isn’t exactly my first choice, either, but I think we need to stay put until we’re certain we have something safer.”

  He met her gaze. “You’re being awfully rational about this.”

  She laughed. “Then appearances can indeed be deceiving. Because beneath all this milk sipping and prenatal vitamin popping, I’m shaken to the core.”

  She’d tried to say it lightly enough, so that it didn’t put more pressure on him, but he obviously saw through the filmsy pretense. He slid his hand over hers, linking their fingers together.

  “I’m just worried this could go on for weeks,” she admitted.

  Or months.

  Or forever.

  Kylie didn’t dare voice that. She was having a hard enough time trying to get past the next five minutes. She wasn’t ready to deal with forever yet.

  “I think it’ll all come to a head soon.” Lucas rotated his shoulder, testing it, and she realized he was actually testing the wound on his arm. Judging from the slight wince he made, it still hurt. “Neither Dupont or Windham were pleased about being called in for interviews. Plus, Sgt. O’Malley is digging into Cordelia’s financials.”

  “Cordelia won’t be happy about that. She’ll have her lawyers suing everyone in sight.”

  Of course, a lawsuit seemed positively benign compared to everything else going on.

  Kylie finished her milk, set the glass on the coffee table and freed herself from Lucas’s grip so her hands would be free to unbutton the cuff on his dark blue shirt. He’d changed clothes since they’d returned from San Antonio, and when she couldn’t shove up the sleeve of this particular shirt far enough, she went after the front buttons.

  He looked at her and even in the moonlight, she could see the questioning expression. “It’s Florence Nightingale time?”

  She nodded. “I’m going to check that wound.”

  “You mean that scratch,” he immediately corrected.

  “Men always say that. You could be gushing arterial spray, and it’d still be a scratch.” The joke didn’t settle well in her stomach. Neither did the sight of the scratch when she eased the shirt off his shoulder and gently peeled back the bandage. It was a brutal reminder of how close he’d come to being killed.

  “You’re frowning,” Lucas pointed out.

  She forced the frown away. Lucas had too much to deal with without her adding to his troubles. “I just wanted an excuse to get your clothes off.”

  “You don’t need an excuse for that.”

  She smiled and pressed the bandage back in place. “That sounded like a come-on.”

  He waited a moment, long enough for her to bring her gaze back to his. “What if it was?” he asked.

  Oh.

  Kylie’s throat clamped shut. Not the best time for that to happen, because her silence seemed like an unspoken invitation.

  Which it was.

  Yes, she had a lot on her mind, what with the danger and the baby. But even with all of that, she hadn’t been able to forget how it felt to have Lucas hold her and touch her. She especially hadn’t been able to forget those kisses they’d shared. She’d relived them too many times to count. The taste of them. The taste of him. And she’d also daydreamed about getting close like that all over again.

  What she felt for him was strong, overpowering and always there. Always. A slow, gnawing hunger. It made her feel alive. And terrified. Because there were times, like now, when she wondered how she could possibly live without him. Somewhere along the line, he’d become more important than anything to her.

  Lucas didn’t move, but the narrow space between them suddenly seemed to vanish. Her heart instantly went into overdrive. And where was the air? There definitely wasn’t enough air in the living room. Maybe it was the lack of air that was suddenly making her light-headed. Or maybe it was his mouth. That sensuous made-for-kissing mouth that was so close she could taste it. Kylie was no longer sure what to hope for. One thing was certain—she wanted him.

  And he obviously knew it.

  He reached out and skimmed his fingers over her cheek
. “You didn’t answer. What if this is a come-on?”

  She had to clear her throat so she could speak. “Then I’d have to question our sanity. Because we’re not even sure if we’re safe.”

  But Kylie barely heard her own argument.

  Much less believed it.

  Lucas obviously didn’t believe it, either, because he pulled her into his lap. Kylie wasn’t sure how he had accomplished that little feat. One moment, she was sitting on the sofa; the next moment, she was sitting on him.

  All in all, not a bad place to sit.

  She glanced down at their new position and gave it a nod of approval. Lucas gave it his own approval, as well. He moved against her. Softly. Body against body. Everything slowed. Like a lazy hot breeze. It swirled around her until all she could see and feel was Lucas.

  He didn’t kiss her. He just looked at her as if trying to decide if this was a good idea.

  “You’re cold?” he asked, his Texas drawl heightening the words.

  The warm air from the ceiling vent was washing over her. And the room definitely wasn’t cool. Maybe because of her penchant for not wearing shoes around the house, Lucas had really cranked up the heat.

  In more ways than one.

  Still, she was shivering. Actually honest-to-goodness shivering. And not because she was scared.

  Okay, maybe she was a little scared.

  She was scared that this was all just a very good dream, and that she would wake up and Lucas would be gone. Worse, he would still hate her. They’d still be at the hellish impasse where they’d been for three years.

  But then, he slid his hand around the back of her neck. Eased her closer. His mouth came to hers. Barely a touch. Enough to reassure her that this was no dream but a flesh-and-blood man who wanted her.

  “If you’re going to say no, do it now,” he warned.

  “Why would I say no?” Her breasts brushed against his bare chest and sent her pulse right off the chart.

  “Because you might be having doubts.”

  She dismissed that with a soft sound of denial. “Lucas, I feel a lot about you, for you, but I don’t have those kinds of doubts.”

  He cupped her chin, slid his thumb over her bottom lip. There was gentleness in his touch. Almost reverence. Almost. But in his eyes, she could see the heat. The fire. The need. There was nothing reverent about that. Mercy, she wanted him.

  And the next kiss proved it.

  Roughly grabbing handfuls of his hair, she wrenched his mouth to hers. And she kissed him, all right. There were no more preliminaries, no long doubting looks, no soft caressing breaths, no gentleness. Just them. Two people kissing each other as if this would be the last kiss either of them would ever get to experience.

  It worked. Both for her libido and for the rest of her. Lucas was melting the cold that for years she had allowed to seep into her blood and into her heart. He was somehow making her feel new again. Had anything felt this good, this all-consuming, this overwhelming?

  This necessary?

  No, she admitted honestly. Nothing.

  And that’s why Kylie knew it couldn’t stop.

  LUCAS HAD no intentions of stopping this time, but even if he’d had such intentions, they had gone south in a hurry. Frantically, he pulled at her stretchy top. Then he did a reversal.

  And stopped.

  His attention landed on her stomach, and his forehead bunched up. Along with that bunching came some doubts. Hell. His body didn’t want any doubts. His body wanted to race full speed ahead and have wild, mindless sex. But that stomach was a cool reminder that his body wasn’t calling the shots here.

  “Pregnant women are allowed to have sex,” Kylie assured him.

  His forehead bunched up further. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Good.” She exaggerated a breath of relief. “I’m not much into S and M anyway.” She hooked her arm around his waist. “Let’s just go with it, Lucas. Don’t think about it.”

  He nodded. “Relying on extremely long-term memory here, sex isn’t about thinking, anyway.”

  “I agree. Same long-term memory here. Same conclusion. Don’t think. Just do it.”

  That was the invitation he’d been waiting for. And he didn’t wait any longer. His mouth came to hers. Hot and hungry. His hands plowed into her hair, shoving it from her face so that nothing would be in the way.

  Lucas hauled her against him, gently because of the pregnancy, but it got the job done. She fastened herself around him, her knees cradling his hips. On a strangled groan, her lips parted, and he took her mouth the way he wanted to take it.

  He drew in a gulp of air through his mouth, inhaling in her taste and scent. It raced through him, stirring his blood and body in a way nothing else could. Man, he wanted her. Needed her. He had to have her now.

  She moaned in response. It wasn’t a soft moan, either. It was a lustful moan. A thank-you kind of sound that spilled from her mouth directly into his and became trapped within their kiss.

  He devoured it.

  Lucas went after her earlobes. First one and then the other, taking them in his mouth so his tongue could flirt with her satiny gold-star earrings. Against him, he felt her pulse race and her breath quicken.

  Or was that his?

  He couldn’t tell any longer. They had pressed themselves together so tightly he couldn’t tell where he stopped and she started.

  Her hands quickly reminded him.

  Yanking his shirt out of the waistband of the jeans, she delved underneath to his chest to explore. She sought out every muscle, every inch of skin, even the flat nipples buried in his chest hair, until the touching was apparently no longer enough. In a violent motion, she stripped the shirt over his head and sent it flying.

  Stirring restlessly against him, Kylie kissed his neck, his collarbone, his shoulders. With her mouth, she retraced the path her hands had taken. Lucas grimaced and managed a strangled groan.

  With a mutual effort, her garnet-red sweater came off. Her bra, a flimsy little swatch of ivory silk and lace, was only a few shades lighter than her pale skin. Her nipples were already tightened from arousal and peeked over the bra’s lacy edges.

  “Very nice,” he said, though how he managed something like speech, he didn’t know.

  Slowly, keeping his eyes connected with hers, he lowered his mouth to one of those rosy nipples and nipped it with his teeth. Panting, from both anticipation and the fierce heat building inside her, Kylie grabbed him by the hair and pulled him to her, forcing him, until he took that nipple into his mouth. Leaving it shiny wet and pebbly hard, he gave the other one the same attention.

  “I want more,” Kylie insisted.

  And she didn’t wait. In a move that surprised him, she planted her feet on the sofa. Still straddling him, she rose to a near standing position so she could wiggle free of her loose black pants. Though she was obviously doing this to undress, Lucas took full advantage of it. He halted her in mid-descent by grasping her hips.

  She looked down at him. Questioning. And trying to wriggle back onto his lap. Lucas stopped the wriggling. He pressed his mouth to her stomach, circling her navel with his tongue.

  “Yes.” Kylie nodded.

  He went slightly lower. To her panties. There was so little to them he wondered why she’d bothered at all. Definitely not the functional ones he’d gotten a glimpse of at the clinic. The same ivory color as the bra, the piece of silk had a lacy triangle that almost perfectly outlined the triangle of dark blond curls underneath.

  “Yes. Yes,” she repeated.

  He loved hearing those yeses from her and decided to do something to make her keep saying it.

  Lucas went even lower. Right to that narrowest point of the vee of lace. When his tongue touched her through that fragile barrier, her breath hitched, frozen in her throat. Her bottom lip trembled. She soundlessly pleaded for more.

  He would definitely give her more.

  “Please,” she mumbled. “Yes.”

  It was the ye
s that flooded him with another jolt of fire. Lucas considered finishing her off right then, right there. He could have those panties off her in no time and put his mouth to good use. What would it be like to see her shatter? To taste her when he brought her to climax? He didn’t think he could wait to find out.

  He apparently thought about it too long, because Kylie dropped back down and went after his zipper. “I want you now,” she announced. “Okay?”

  As if he had plans to disagree.

  “Lucas?” she whispered.

  “Kylie,” he answered.

  “Watch,” she demanded.

  “I know who you are,” he assured her. “I know exactly who you are. I’m glad it’s you, Kylie. I want it to be you.”

  “Good,” she mumbled, the one word sounding strangled.

  With their gazes locked, his hands latched onto her hips, he entered her. Slowly. As gently and as carefully as their raging need would allow. Sliding hot and deep into her. Lucas stilled just for a second, to absorb and to understand. To savor.

  A delicious little smile flickered on Kylie’s mouth. And she said, “Yes.”

  There it was again. A jolt of fire caused by that one word. Lucas cursed, pressing his forehead against her cheek. This was madness and redemption all rolled into one. She was so wet, so snug, he figured this must be paradise. Of course, it might also be the most wicked sin hell had to offer, too. At the moment, he couldn’t decide.

  At the moment, he didn’t think he knew his own name.

  Guiding her hips with his hands, Lucas swept her against him, but Kylie soon moved into his rhythm until she took over the pace. She stunned him, pleasured him, until he thought he should beg for mercy. The only thing he knew for certain was he would want her again as soon as they finished. More frightening than that, he would want her tomorrow.

  And the next day.

  She moved against him until he felt her shiver. Until she was his pinpoint focus. Until all he could see was Kylie.

  With her body closing around him, Lucas tossed back his head, the veins of his neck straining at the force of blood pumping through him.

 

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