He and his squad had hit the base to take a long-overdue breather before their next op—not that a forward operating base had much in the way of relaxation or entertainment. The guys figured a few days without getting shot at was enough of a holiday. After all, they’d be surrounded by Marines. How much safer could it get, relatively speaking? He didn’t need to be amused or entertained—what he needed was to sleep, really sleep, for more than a few minutes at a time. Something more substantial than quickly grabbed power naps.
Kacey had bounced past the dusty transport, nearly overwhelmed him with her energy, her determination, her joie de vivre. As soon as he took possession of a bunk, he’d begun to ask around, as circumspectly as possible. Word was that tracking Viper attack helo pilot Kilo Delta was like trying to keep up with a Parson Russell Terrier puppy teething on a new tennis ball. Newbies landed at the base with dazed, what-the-fuck expressions, but she’d apparently taken everything in stride. She met every situation head on, and never looked back.
Now that he knew where she lived, how she lived, knowing her entire life had been one of tempered privilege, being dropped at a Forward Operating Base in a foreign desert should have knocked her for a loop—but it hadn’t. Hell, just being a Marine should have rocked her sideways—but it hadn’t.
He amended that. It hadn’t, until the incident.
…
With no wish to engage in a what-the-fuck conversation, he’d written a short note to Sheriff Big Bob about being temporarily incommunicado, addressed the envelope, handed it to the concierge with a five-dollar bill, asked to have it delivered to the sheriff’s office. After dealing with that chore, it didn’t take long for Nate to cancel his room reservation, repack his belongings, drive the Charger back to Timberwyck. Dressed in clean T-shirt and jeans—and wearing well-broken-in black leather Converse All-Stars—Nate returned to Kacey’s room carrying a small duffle with a change of clothes and his personal kit bag.
Kacey still slept. Actually, he would have been surprised if she’d moved at all.
As tempted as he was to slide into bed next to her sweet body, he left her to continue to slumber in peace. He wandered around, moseyed through endless museum-like rooms and cavernous halls. He switched on small lamps as he continued, since full dark had finally cloaked the countryside.
The mansion suitably impressed him, but he felt not the slightest iota of jealousy, nor covetousness. He’d grown up in a comfortably affluent family with a working dad and a stay-at-home mom, three siblings, a tightly knit, loving family, and never lacked for anything vital. As the oldest of three brothers and a little sister, he’d been taught the value of hard work, along with the resulting physical and emotional rewards. Since childhood, he’d hired himself out to shovel snow during the winter, then did yard jobs around the neighborhood during the rest of the year.
At the age of fifteen, he’d bought his first—and only—car, the Charger, with what he’d earned. He’d even put money away for his insurance, which had impressed, then won over, his mother. She finally broke down and agreed to let her first-born buy the car, even signed a note to the seller that her minor-aged son had permission to buy it. The twenty-five-year old hulk hadn’t been in the best shape when he’d rescued it from an old farm shed, but he and his dad took the time to slowly restore the classic automobile to its present, better than new, condition. By the time he was old enough to drive, he and the 440 Six-Pack were primed and ready to rock.
Returned from his exploration of only a small portion of the huge manse, Nate pulled a chair close to Kacey’s bed, settled with a tall glass of iced tea, complete with a coaster to protect the furniture from any ugly rings of condensation. His mother would be pleased to know he’d remembered his manners, even after he boffed the lady of the house—several times.
Kace finally stirred. A smooth, naked hip peeked from the lightweight bedclothes, arms folded over her breasts, fists nestled under her chin.
Damn, she was so beautiful. Too thin at the moment, almost frail, but he could feed her up. Longer now than when she’d been in the service, her titian locks had dried, soft and shiny, spread over her face and one shoulder. Very diva, very sexy. Yet, at the same time, curled up as she was, she looked like a child, an innocent, before kids learned that there really were monsters under the bed, that bad things did go bump in the night, and the world wasn’t always a safe place to be.
With a soft groan, she stretched, sat up, winced, shifted to lean on one hip. She pulled the duvet over her breasts, placed the back of her hand against her forehead. Her tousled bed-head was über sexy. “Where’s the Humvee that ran over me? What time is it?”
“Answer number one: it’s called sleep, and you needed it. Answer number two: about twenty after nine.”
“At night? Why are you still here?” She pushed the hair away from her eyes. “You changed your clothes. When did that happen?”
“I told you I needed to leave, that I’d be back. You didn’t scream at me like a wild woman, so I took that as a good sign.” And a herd of wild horses couldn’t keep him away, madwoman or no madwoman.
“Was I conscious when we had this supposed conversation?”
“Well, you responded. In a manner of speaking.”
“Uh huh. Must have been an interesting manner.”
Nate rose, stretched, popped joints that needed popping, added a grunt that needed grunting. “Hungry?”
Kacey lifted the edge of the duvet, checked out her condition. “I appear to be naked.”
“I dried you, but your skin felt chilled. I didn’t take the time to search for your jammies, so I tucked the blankets around you. Are you hungry?”
“Actually, I am. Starving.”
He grinned as he rose. “It was all that good exercise.”
She stretched, winced. The look she threw at him was not overly friendly. “It’s beginning to come back to me now. Especially when I try to sit.”
That comment hastened his departure, so he spoke over his shoulder. “Good to know.”
“You’re running out?”
“I’d prefer to think of it as a strategic withdrawal.”
“I bet you would, chicken shit. All bitch, no bite.”
…
Kacey wouldn’t readily admit it, but she actually did feel better. Sated. Rested. Smartass. Just to bust Nathan’s balls, she dug out her lilac My Little Pony pajamas with the button-up top and drawstring bottoms. Rooting through the back section of her walk-in closet, she unearthed a pair of fuzzy gray and white bunny slippers, complete with eyes, whiskers, noses, and ears. She’d worn the ensemble at college as a joke, then discovered the outfit to be more comfortable than comedic. So, the jammies and slippers were sorta faded and beat up, but still serviceable.
When she reached the kitchen, delectable smells assailed her nostrils.
Nathan moved around the huge kitchen with ease. She wondered about his level of comfort. “I already used up the eggs, so there was really nothing left in the refrigerator—any of them—in the way of fresh fruit, vegetables, or salad makings, but I dug up enough stuff to do a nice mac and cheese.”
She shrugged. “I asked the staff to empty the fridge before they left, so nothing perishable, well, perished. I eat light, sometimes grab meals in town.”
He placed a wide soup bowl in front of her. Placemat, napkin, and silverware were already properly lined up, as well as a tall glass of what proved to be seltzer over crushed ice. “Nice jammies, by the way.” He glanced again. “Love the slippers.”
“Thanks.” She wrinkled her nose. “What are those black things?”
“I improvised. The black things are sliced olives. I realize they’re technically a fruit, but one does what one must. The crunchy things are croutons. Boxed, not home-made. Sorry.”
“Just checking.”
“Eat them. Black olives are good for you, lots of health benefits.”
“Little green things?”
“Peas. Frozen. You need your greens.”
/> “Uh huh.” She tested the pasta. “Damn. Hot!” A long swig of iced tea quenched the burn.
He smirked. “Dummy. I didn’t want to fire up one of the big ovens for one pan, so this just came off the stove in a pot.” He seated himself, took up his own bowl. “But good, yes? I found three types of cheeses, blended them.”
Using more caution, she tried another creamy, gooey spoonful. “Good, yes.” She scooped up a third mouthful before she finished the second. “Mmm. Really good.”
He smiled a righteous smile, settled his big pleased-looking self with his elbows on the table like a preschooler.
Facing his sexy grin, Kacey hesitated a microsecond before putting the next spoonful in her mouth. There was no doubt he was gorgeous, and a great guy. He could even cook. What was wrong with her? He was right there, in front of her, ripe for the taking, perfectly willing to be her nanny and sex slave. She tried to hide a squirm as her body remembered, then conceded, his attributes.
Yes, well, he had no idea what went on in her brainpan, did he? Wouldn’t be fair to drag a poor, unsuspecting soul into her personal morass of malevolence. No way she’d be able to meet his horrified expression if a bout of her sobbing frenzies awakened him in the wee hours of the morning. When screaming at the heebie-jeebies left her gasping for breath—and not in a good way.
What would the totally ripped, handsome SEAL man think of her then? Would he stare at her like she’d become some sort of hobgoblin? A banshee? Would he run?
“Penny for your thoughts? Or, whatever the current exchange is for such things.” Nathan met her gaze. A touch of his friendly grin remained, but his eyes had gone dark gold and serious.
She forced a smile. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Enjoying our impromptu dinner. You whipped up something out of practically nothing, and made it delicious. Who knew you had such abilities?” Oh God, she sounded like a blithering idiot.
Nathan cocked his head, but his expression softened—for the moment, it seemed he’d let her off the hook.
“Wait until dessert.”
…
Apparently, Kacey was dessert.
He couldn’t keep his hands—or anything else—off her. At least he waited until he could settle her on the king-sized bed, rather than returning to the settee, rug, or shower stall.
The matching lilac buttons on the pony pajama top seemed to intrigue him. Rather than fumbling with impatient fingers, he made a project of releasing each one, slowly, until she wanted to scream in frustration. Between buttons, he mouthed her nipples through the thin cotton fabric, which resulted in odd tremors and shivers that spread throughout her body.
Teasing continued when he reached the drawstring of her pajama bottoms. He pulled loose the bow, then slid a calloused hand down her torso and under the waistband, stopping before he reached her soft auburn curls. She couldn’t help herself, so she thrust her hips toward his hand, hoping he’d continue his exploration.
Rat that he was, he didn’t make a move to finger her. Instead, he backtracked, opened the lapels of her unbuttoned pajama top, then trapped a nipple with his lips. Apparently believing fair is fair, he caught the other nipple between thumb and forefinger, gave it the other half of his attention.
“Come, my little twins, perk up for me.” He licked the first nipple, then gently blew across it. He wet his fingertip, repeated the process with the remaining nip. The peaks were so tight, they truly ached for his touch.
His skillful play had her body humming with anticipation, and cream pooling at the joining of her thighs. There was no point in attempting to ignore him, or even becoming annoyed at his playful persistence. Nathan might not have known about her family or her upbringing, but he certainly knew how to touch her, please her, how to tease every bit of passion from her until she was screaming, until he made her bat-shit lunatic crazy.
Why couldn’t she take what he offered, and be grateful for all he wanted to give? Because he didn’t know the rest of it, that’s why.
Apparently following the dessert premise, he untied the drawstring of her pajama bottoms, then slid them down and off her hips. Oh, first he removed her bunny slippers, smiling as he played with them as if they were hand puppets. That earned him an honest girly giggle.
He pulled his black T-shirt over his head, untied and removed his sneakers, but left his jeans on. Head propped on a pillow so she could watch him, she actually sucked in her breath at the sight of his naked torso, the heavy musculature of his tattooed shoulders and biceps, his corded forearms, his flat, hard breasts with the tiny copper nipples that were so sensitive to her touch. Her gaze followed the treasure trail of golden hair that grew from his sculpted abs and disappearing under the waistband of his jeans. Damn, but he made fine-looking an art form.
Nathan pulled himself onto the bed, settled with his elbows between her legs, his arms folded in front of him.
“Now, there’s no escape. You’re mine.”
Without touching her with his hands, he dropped his mouth to her sex, kissed her gently but completely, not missing a millimeter of her mons. She spread further, allowing his tongue to slowly, broadly swipe her outer labia, then inner—emphasis on the slowly. His eyes met her gaze while his mouth pleasured her. She swore his honey-gold orbs lit with an inner fire as he flicked the hood of her clit with the tip of his tongue.
It was impossible to maintain eye contact after that. She threw her head back, as the action of his long, hot tongue delving into her flesh forced a long, low moan that began from her toes. He finally used his hands, spreading her wide as his tongue stabbed, then his mouth sucked and nibbled at her wet sex.
“Nathan, omigod, baby, you’re making me crazy!”
Frantic for deeper penetration, she thrust her hips upward as she fisted his hair, pulled his mouth even closer. He sucked more deeply, twirled his tongue-tip around and over her plumped nubbin.
He rose up, his arms trapping her thighs as he devoured her flesh, lapping up the cream he caused to flow. Her movements became more frantic as the trilling of imminent orgasm coalesced at the back of her neck, down her spine, until the voltage pooled in her pelvis.
Her breath huffed in and out, her body arched, just on the verge—then he pulled back, took his mouth away.
The scream was pure, unadulterated frustration. “No, no, no, no…you can’t stop, don’t stop!”
With one palm pressed against her sex, he slid a finger of his free hand into her, twisting and thrusting hard and deep. “Baby, don’t worry, I have no intention of stopping.”
He renewed his tongue’s efforts, stabbing and licking, keeping time with his finger. He pushed in a second finger, widening his attack.
That did it. Whether he planned it or not, there was no stopping her release. If he hadn’t anchored her to the bed, she might have flipped off the mattress as her body twisted in the throes of an unbelievable orgasm.
Leaving her for no more than a heartbeat, he quickly stripped off his jeans, then pulled his lean, muscled groin up and over her, staked her with his massive erection. That scream outdid the first, as hard spasms continued to pulse throughout Kacey’s entire body.
“That’s it, baby, that’s it. Oh God, Kace, you feel incredible. That’s it, come again for me, baby, you have me so hot, I’m right there, right there…oh fuck, yess!” Nathan plowed into her, his balls emptying everything he had. “Yes, yes, omigod, sweet Jesus Christ in heaven, yes.”
Her nervous system short-circuited, so much so that Kacey forgot how to breathe. Her brain finally screamed at her lungs, and she sucked in a gallon of air.
“Damn, girl. You squeezed so tight, I think you damaged me.” He sounded just as raspy-edged as he looked.
Even as Nathan grinned, Kacey saw tiny rivulets of blood trail down his arms.
“Omigod, you’re bleeding!” She quickly realized there was only one way it could have happened. “Oh, hellfire and damnation, did I do that?”
He gently disengaged, lifted off, laid beside her.
“Considering I see only the two of us, I’d said confidence is high that the response would be an affirmative.” He blew out a heavy sigh, sounded like his breathing had come under some aspect of control.
Her own breathing still a bit ragged, she leaned up on her elbows. “I’m so sorry. I don’t remembering doing it.”
“Not to worry, I was too busy to notice.”
“I’m still sor….”
He interrupted. “Please don’t apologize for losing yourself in the moment. For taking me with you. I think that qualified as a wow experience.”
“A wow experience?”
“Yeah. No other word can describe it, so wow.”
She flopped back on the pillows, and he pulled the bedclothes over them.
“Nathan—”
He reached over, placed his finger over her lips.
“Darling, unless you’re going to pledge your undying devotion to me, whatever you need to say, you can say after the sun comes up.” He kissed her forehead, pulled her into his shoulder, and was asleep in seconds.
She wasn’t far behind.
Chapter Five
When the phone rang, it took Kacey a moment to cop to the facts. Number one, she wasn’t alone. Number two, she shouldn’t try to kill whoever had encroached upon her space. Number three, she needed to untangle enough limbs to reach the phone.
She grabbed the device, flipped the lid. “Whoever you are, this had better be good.”
“Kace, it’s Jack Cannon.”
That voice immediately fired up her brain synapses. The FBI usually didn’t call before the ass-crack of dawn.
“Jack? What the fuck?” She bolted upright, realized she was naked again, wrapped the edge of the sheet around her torso from force of habit. Nathan’s warm hand snaked onto her thigh. Jeez, even in his sleep, his libido never tired. The guy was incorrigible.
“Okay, Cannon, sorry about that. I’m awake. Kinda-sorta.”
“Kace—” His voice cracked, then went silent.
“Jack, what’s going on? Man, you’re scaring me.”
“Kace, this call is so illegit.”
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