Legacy of Danger

by Jillian David

  "Are you complaining?"

  He bucked his hard erection beneath her. "What do you think?"

  She tilted her head, mischievous as a wood sprite or nymph or something else fucking magical that wasn't a goddamned leprechaun with a beard or something else buzzkill unsexy.

  When she popped the hair clip and those shiny strands fell forward, he reached up to let the hair slip through his fingers. Wow, she heated parts of his heart that had been ice cold for far too long.

  She skimmed her hands down his shirt-covered arms to his hands and threaded her fingers through his, easing his hands away from her. Then she leaned against him and pressed his hands to the bedding next to his head. With her torso this close to his head, he wanted to tear off her clothes and bury his face in what lay beneath.

  But the lady was having fun, judging by her smile, somehow both excited and shy at the same time. Let her enjoy, by all means.

  "Looks like I submitted you," she exhaled.

  "I'll let you win a match like this any day." With effort, he sucked in air. "Want to try a rear naked chokehold?"

  A laugh bubbled up and lit her glowing face. His heart paused several beats. She was beautiful as she straddled his torso, and he wanted to remember this moment for the rest of his entire life.

  She winked—fucking winked—at him. "That was my next go-to move. You've figured out my game plan."

  Burying his hands in her hair again, he pulled her down to his mouth and kissed her until she melted into him.

  When she rose again, he groaned with frustration, then excitement, as her nimble fingers undid each of his buttons until cold air licked over his chest. The light drift of her fingertips shot zingers of hell-yeah right down his spine. Her butt wiggling against his groin tormented him in the best way possible, and when she gave his hard nipples a light pinch, he came close to embarrassing himself right in front of her.

  "Mariah," he growled.

  "Ref hasn't called it yet. Patience."

  "My God," he gritted as she scooted down. She stroked him through the pants fabric, making his cock jump.

  Then she slid that same hand beneath his waistband and circled him. Christ.

  Some men needed to be in control.

  Some men needed to be on top.

  As Mariah stroked his hard erection, he realized that he wasn't like some men.

  All he needed was Mariah. If this woman wanted to run the show, there was no way in hell he would complain.

  He groaned as she rubbed her thumb along the damp tip of his cock.

  However. He wouldn't survive if she continued what she was doing. He'd let her play later. He had work to do.

  With a buck and a heave, he lifted and flipped her over, reversing their positions. Better.

  Like in his midnight fantasies, she lay beneath him, her hair spread out in a dark halo, her arms splayed out next to her. Perfect.

  "You need to give me a chance." He took care to hold his weight with his legs and arms as he knelt over her.

  "I'm okay with that." The way her eyes widened, he felt ten feet tall.

  "Damn it," he cursed his thick, rough fingers. He finally managed to unbutton her blouse without ripping the garment to shreds. With the amount of patience he showed, he ought to be named a saint.

  Saint Take it Slow or Saint Ladies First or some bullshit name like that.

  Smoothing the fabric to the side, he sucked in more air as the sight of her took it right out of him. Her smooth skin glowed. The small lace cups hid twin points pushing against the fabric. Part of him wanted to spend quality time with those breasts, and part of him wanted her naked, like, yesterday. She was a dessert buffet and he couldn't decide where to start.

  She sighed, making those hard nipples strain against the lace.

  Decision made.

  Each of his hands palmed a firm breast, and he rubbed the skin beneath the lace fabric, taking cues from the sexy, breathy sounds that came from her. He leaned back on his ankles and drew her to sit up. Concentrating on her face, watching for any hesitation and seeing none, he slid the shirt off and away, followed by the bra. With his hand supporting her behind the shoulders, like she was a delicate piece of crystal, he eased her back down to the bed.

  Trailing his fingers over her neck, breasts, and stomach, he wanted to feel every single inch of her body. Memorize it. In case they never... no. He shook his head and paused.

  "You okay?" Her voice, both soft and rough, snapped him the hell off of whatever path his mind was heading. With a featherlight stroke of his bruised cheek, she asked, "Is this bothering you?"

  "With you in front of me, I feel zero pain." He shifted his position on her hips and grimaced. "Well, maybe a little pain, but it's the good kind of pain. Besides, your touch takes it away."

  Reaching for the front of his slacks, she whispered, "Then I've got some more cure."

  Keeping his grip gentle, he manacled her wrists and drew her hands away. "If you go there, this night will be over before it begins, and that is not my intention. Not by a long shot." He let go and skimmed up her waist until his thumbs rested on her breasts. "Besides, I want to find more ways to make you squirm first." He bent and latched his mouth onto one nipple, flicking his tongue over the tip until she gasped.

  She scraped her nails over the nape of his neck and closed her hands on two fistfuls of hair. Pleasure mixed with pain sent him into low synchronous orbit.

  He gave her other breast equal attention, then licked his way down her belly. Inhaling the faint, warm musk of her arousal, he grimaced as his cock jumped for joy.

  After unbuttoning her pants and sliding them and the underwear off of her hips, he stood and rifled through his gym bag. He'd need that foil packet soon enough, God willing.

  Mariah was a vision. All puffy, well-kissed lips, smoldering eyes, soft skin, and tight little body. The tiny patch of dark hair above her... wow.

  He dropped like a fighter shooting for a takedown and positioned his face at the juncture of her thighs. Delicate, pink skin and moisture. The idea that she was wet for him had his cock straining for release. Soon, buddy. Real soon.

  One gentle lick and she bucked against him with a cry. Yeah, that was a winning move. He stroked with his tongue up and down her soft folds and over her clit. Her panting mixed with his. Heat and wetness poured from her, and he lapped it up, loving the taste of her. Licking his finger, he slid it into the liquid heat and groaned as her inner muscles rippled. At the same time, he crooked his finger to rub the rough spot inside her and flicked his tongue over her again.

  Christ, for a small woman, she was freakishly strong as she writhed beneath him. So good.

  Adding another finger, he pressed inward slowly, letting her adjust to him. He'd kill himself before he hurt her in any way. But he wanted her so much. He never wanted to stop. Increasing the rhythm, he stroked her until she bowed under his touch and his mouth. She gripped the bedcovers and came apart in his hands. Her hoarse cry and gasps raked across his soul, making his heart swell and his chest tighten.

  He eased away from her hips and licked the glistening sweat on her stomach before kissing her beautiful mouth.

  "God, Vaughn."

  "Yeah," he managed to grit out.

  "Wow." Her chest rose and fell. She lolled her head to the side and, with a flop of her arm, grabbed the crinkly packet. "All right. Your turn."

  "Hell yes. Round two."

  Chapter 26

  If Mariah's main goal was to not think about the future and live for the moment, then, holy cow, had she succeeded. What a hell of a moment. Even her fingers and toes tingled. It took a minute for her heart to stop the orgasmic tachycardia.

  Vaughn knelt over her, all cut with massive muscle, covered in bruised skin, and sporting a happy, overgrown schoolboy expression.

  Get up, lazybones. This night isn't over yet. She rose to her knees and pressed against him, chest to chest. His arms locked around her, secure and warm. The hot kiss ramped her up even further, and his e
rection pushed against her belly.

  With a grin, she shoved at his chest. He flopped to his back, exhaling a whoosh of air.

  "Now you're the one with too many clothes on." After she undid the button and zipper, he lifted his hips and she pulled off the pants and briefs. The hardness of his buttocks and thighs made her heart jump again.

  The hardness of other areas made her insides clench. His erection, thick and pulsing slightly, jutted out. As she lowered her head, she glanced up. His irises glinted with gold sparks. When she circled the tip of his penis with her tongue, his face went rigid.

  "Oh, fuck," he hissed.

  She licked down the length of him and cupped the weight of his testicles. Even the tiniest movement made him jump beneath her mouth. Super. She met his avid, hungry stare. He watched her like his life depended on it.

  His groans increased, and his spread legs twitched with each pass of her mouth over him.

  She raked her nails up his ridged belly while she tongued him and hummed. The muscles beneath her fingertips tensed. So fun, turning this big guy to putty in her hands.

  "I don't want you to stop," he panted. "But you have to stop." When had his voice gotten so hoarse? "I want to be deep inside you when I come."

  She lollipopped him one more time. "That's a plan I can get behind." With a smile, she opened the packet and sheathed him, stroking him through the latex.

  "What you do to me. Amazing."

  He surged up, turning and pinning her beneath him with an ease that took her breath away. Maybe he had injuries from the fight, but they sure as hell didn't hamper his seduction abilities. His arms snaked under her shoulder blades and met in a cup behind her head. His knees rested between her legs, and his erection nudged at her opening. She pulsed and strained upward, eager for him.

  "Vaughn. Please." Was that really her desperate gasp? She grabbed onto his back.

  "You bet." He pressed into her and sank in deep. Then he held still. "Man, you feel so good."

  She gasped, "It's. Mutual." Every inch of her body and soul stretched to accommodate him.

  He thrust gently, and she dug her nails into his back.

  He hissed. "Yeah, go for it. Scratch away. Damn, you're sexy."

  "Vaughn. Oh my God."

  He pressed his forehead to hers and worked his hips in earnest now, each movement deeper and harder as he filled her completely. In the cocoon of his arms and his body, she floated on a cloud of bliss centered on the bone-loosening desire deep in her pelvis. Their pants and moans filled the room as he rotated his hips faster and she lifted her pelvis to meet his movements.

  More. She needed more of him inside. When she hooked her heels around the bunched muscles of his buttocks, he seated himself even deeper, with a bit-off expletive. She grabbed as far around his broad back as possible, wanting every part of her to come into contact with him. His skin—she would crawl inside his skin if that were possible. A sensation of safety followed by a light headache flitted across her forehead, an almost familiar feeling.

  As she met his strong thrusts with her own, the pleasure spiked. He opened her mouth with his and swirled his tongue inside, creating stars that rimmed her vision. His scent filled her nose, their combined tastes filled her mouth, and the heat from his skin warmed her inside and out.

  With a groan, he pumped harder, every cord of his powerful muscles flexing. He clenched his hands in her hair and locked her underneath him, creating the best prison she could ever imagine.

  Another two thrusts and she flew high, bursting into a supernova of shuddering pleasure. Her hoarse cries filled the room. A few seconds later, he raised his head and yelled. The pulses of his erection inside of her created aftershocks that let her skim along, prolonging her orgasm. When she didn't think her muscles could clench anymore, he swirled his hips, and another wave hit her.

  "Good God," she gritted out, loving the sweat slicking their bodies as they moved against each other.

  "I'll say." Holding some of his weight off of her, he stayed on top for a few more minutes or moments? Muttering, he withdrew, rolled off the bed and disposed of the condom.

  Without his presence, her damp skin cooled. Then Vaughn scooped her up, yanked back the sheet and covers, and laid her down on the bed. Settling in next to her, he pulled the bedding up and tucked it around her. Safe. Cocooned.

  Her last conscious thought was of his legs scissoring hers and his arms latching around her, like she was the luckiest life preserver in the universe.

  * * *

  Everything in his life had come down to this moment, Vaughn was certain of it. His power flowed around him, encasing both of them in a protective, invisible bubble. So right. So perfect and complete. He couldn't imagine a day in his life without Mariah in it.

  No.

  He shouldn't be thinking like that.

  Shit.

  If he wanted to atone for his bad decision-making a year ago, he'd picked a hell of a way to do it. He hadn't even told her everything he'd done in the past, what he had been. What he currently was. If Mariah knew, no way would she have jumped into bed with him. And what about her need for a long-term relationship? It was clear that he couldn't deliver on those goods.

  But could he walk away from this woman?

  Even if he stayed, no way would she want a relationship with a guy with as much baggage as Vaughn.

  Damn it.

  She mumbled in her sleep, and he loosened his rigid grip on her. Not an easy task, considering that every cell in his body screamed at him to surround her more. Hell, there were a few inches of her still uncovered, vulnerable—a fact that made him slide more of his body over hers. His damned ability drove him beyond paranoia. He needed to protect her in every way possible.

  Was that Vaughn or his power talking?

  Didn't matter. They were one and the same. Which was yet another reason he was one messed up dude. What woman wanted a guy with weird psychic powers that turned him into the biggest Cro-Magnon man in the universe. What woman wanted an adulterer? An alcoholic?

  Oh, Christ. What had he done?

  When her mumbles turned to soft cries, he flipped on the bedside lamp. Liquid pooled between the corner of her eye and the bridge of her nose. Shit.

  "Mariah? Sweetheart?"

  She struggled against him, her small body no match for his. But he let go completely.

  "Mariah? You're having a dream."

  Her spiked lashes fluttered. A second of brow-raising terror was swiftly followed by a droop to her pretty mouth. A fist formed in his chest.

  "Okay. It's okay." Was she talking to herself or to him? "I'm good. Fine. All good. It's okay."

  "Um." He wanted to roll on top of her to keep anything bad away, but that might not be the best tactic. "You want me to hold you?"

  Turning to bury her face in his chest, she mumbled, "Yes, please."

  He might have no future with her. He might have a bad past. But for right now, he'd hold her like his existence depended on it, for as long as she wanted. He cradled her, shifting and shifting again, restless, desperate to surround her. "You're safe."

  "I know. Sorry. Just... bad memories sometimes."

  "From being trapped in that room?"

  Her nod made her hair tickle his nose, but he didn't move. "When I get stressed, sometimes the bad dreams come back."

  "Was I that bad?"

  "What?"

  "So bad that you got stressed out?"

  Her giggle dropped the tension in the room.

  "I'm fine," she said.

  "Of course you are. You're one of the toughest people I've met. Considering my side job, that's saying a lot." He made a show of bending his arm and flexing until she laughed again. Then he frowned. "Um, you never actually answered the question."

  "What question?" That frown begged to be smoothed, and he indulged with his fingertip.

  "If the night with me was bad enough to stress you out?"

  "What do you think?" One dark eyebrow rose.

  He pul
led back and kissed her forehead. "I think you should give a guy another chance at redemption before you pass judgment." His cock, already anticipating the pleasure, snapped right to attention.

  "Another—oh..." She wiggled against him. "Really?"

  "If it's okay with you, of course."

  That shy smile made the corners of his own mouth turn up. "Well, all right, if you insist," she said.

  Trailing a hand down her spine until goose bumps stippled her skin, he nipped her lower lip, drawing a purr from her throat. "Oh, I insist."

  His mental power and short-timer relationship issues? The issue with his entire life existing two thousand miles away? Yeah, he'd have to deal with that later.

  Right now, Vaughn had a beautiful woman in his arms to satisfy.

  Chapter 27

  Mariah woke to a light knock at the door, followed by the aromas of bacon, pancakes, eggs, and coffee.

  Wait.

  And coffee?

  She went from REM sleep to bloodhound alert in a split second and sat bolt upright. The bedside clock read 7:00 a.m. On the laminate wood desk was an impressive spread of steaming breakfast dishes. A sheepish Vaughn was pulling metal lids off the plates. He had his slacks on but nothing else. The fashion choice worked for him.

  "And a good morning to you." He surveyed her and licked his lips, reminding Mariah to pull the sheet up. "Not that I am complaining about the view one bit."

  "Oh wow. I need..."

  He picked up a mug full of mocha heaven. "This?"

  "Gimme. Please."

  "It will cost you a kiss."

  "I'll pay. Anything."

  He sat next to her and did some magic trick with his lips and mouth that set her synapses on fire faster than a double shot of espresso. "Yes, it is a good morning."

  A few sips of bliss later, she leaned back on the pillows. "That's a lot of food."

  With a shrug, he said, "Didn't know what kind of breakfast you liked, so I ordered one of everything on the room service menu." He closed one eye. "Minus the mimosas." He opened that eye, then cringed. "But I'll order some if you really want."

  "No thanks." She clutched the mug to her sternum, prepared to die before letting go of the beverage. "This is perfect."