by Trisha Telep
She held her hand up to shield her eyes then slowly got out of her vehicle. So did the man in the van. He was armed, and though he wasn’t pointing the revolver at her, he had it in hand.
“Show me the diamonds,” he ordered.
Brooke held up a grocery sack.
“Not good enough. I want to see them.”
Brooke’s hands shook as she reached in the sack and pulled out a small velvet pouch.
“Open it.”
She did, then turned the pouch upside down as if to spill the diamonds into her hand. Only, as they’d planned, she spilled them on to the pavement.
“Shit!” growled the kidnapper.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Brooke as she bent down to pick them up – below the line of any possible gunfire.
The man stepped forwards, his entire attention focused on those loose diamonds. That was all the distraction John needed.
He slipped silently behind the man, disarmed him with one hard blow to his wrist, and sent the gun skittering across the pavement. The man balled up his fist to punch, but John saw it coming. He blocked the strike and countered with one of his own, shoving his fist into the man’s pudgy stomach.
The give of soft flesh followed by a grunt of pain made John grin.
The man kicked, landing a decent blow on John’s shin, but he didn’t feel any pain. Not now, when his adrenaline was running hot and his body was thrumming with the need to protect Brooke and her uncle.
Abe’s voice sounded from a few feet away. “We got the doctor, John. He’s safe. You can stop playing with the guy and finish him off.”
With pleasure.
John swept his foot under the man’s legs, knocking him to the ground with one easy move. The guy’s head bounced once, making a satisfying thud on the hard pavement, then his eyes fluttered shut.
Three seconds later, John’s two buddies appeared from behind the van, supporting a wobbly Dr York between them.
“We’re clear. The van was empty.”
John finished restraining the man with flex-cuffs so he wouldn’t get back up. Brooke sprinted by him, the skirt of her fancy dress now wrinkled and dusty as it flew out behind her. She grabbed her uncle in a tight hug and he held her close, telling her over and over he was fine.
From the sound of her sobs, John figured it would be a while before she believed it.
Strangely enough, he wanted to be the man who was right there with her, convincing her. However long it took. However wrong it might be.
John asked his friend, “Did you call the police?”
“Yeah, and Liam’s moving his truck so they can get in here. We’re going to hit the road before the questions start so we can get in a couple hours’ sleep before work, OK?”
John nodded. “Sure. Thanks, guys. I owe you.”
“We won’t forget,” said Abe as he sauntered off.
It took a while to satisfy the police and answer all their questions. By the time the paramedics had cleared Dr York and taken the kidnapper to the hospital, it was well past dawn.
Brook stood beside her uncle, huddled under his arm. Her mascara was smeared, her dress was a wrinkled mess and her hair was a wild flurry of tangles. Still, she was more beautiful to him than any other woman he’d ever seen.
Too bad they could never be together.
She saw him watching her and left her uncle’s side. Her walk was a bit unsteady in those heels, with pieces of gravel and clumped mud dotting the pavement. John hurried to her to keep her from twisting her ankle.
She placed her hand on his chest and looked up at him, her dark-blue eyes glowing with gratitude. “Thank you.”
He shrugged. “No problem.”
“I’m taking Uncle Charles home, but I was hoping I could come over later, when he’s resting. Maybe tonight?”
John shook his head. “It’s not a good idea.”
“No, what’s not a good idea is you avoiding me.”
He let out a long sigh of regret. “You and I can never work.”
“We were working fine a few hours ago.”
“That was sex.”
A slow smile warmed her mouth. “Not quite, but we were getting there.”
He wanted to kiss her so bad it was making him shake. “Brooke, please don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”
He wasn’t sure if he had the strength to walk away right now, much less to do it again if she hunted him down.
She went on tiptoe to place a kiss on his lips. She patted his cheek in a placating gesture. “I’m coming over to your house tonight.”
“Fine, then I won’t be there.”
“Fine,” she countered. “Then I’ll simply break in and wait for you until you come back. I just want you to know that I plan to wait for you in bed. Naked.”
Four
Naked. Brooke.
John made a quick stop at home to secure his weapon, then avoided his house for the rest of the day. He went to a buddy’s apartment for a nap, but that beautiful image of naked Brooke was in his dreams, haunting him, leaving him unable to rest. Her threat to wait for him had left him sweating, his dick hard.
He swore he could still feel her skin against his palms, the slickness of her arousal on his fingertips. The scent of her was in his head, refusing to leave.
That was the problem with forbidden fruit: once you tasted it, you always wanted another bite.
All the blood that fuelled rational thought must have gone to his groin, because by late evening, he found himself walking through his front door. It was unlocked, the way he’d left it. He knew it had been tempting fate, but when it came to Brooke, he was unable to resist temptation.
Besides, it probably wasn’t going to matter, anyway. She was just thankful he’d helped save her uncle. Once she got over the shock and fear of the night, once her adrenaline was no longer running hot, she’d calm down and see reason.
She was too smart to tangle herself up with him when she was thinking straight.
Exhausted from lack of sleep and a constant state of arousal, John headed straight for bed. He wasn’t sure if he’d actually sleep, but it was worth a shot.
He walked into his bedroom holding his breath, praying she wasn’t there even as he hoped she was.
It was dark. He couldn’t see, but he swore he could smell the sweet scent of her perfume and the womanly warmth of her skin.
It made his mouth water for just one more taste of her lips, though he had to admit he had been dreaming about tasking a lot more than simply her mouth. Just the idea of going down on her was enough to make him hard for a week.
“Brooke?” he whispered, calling himself ten kinds of fool for allowing himself to have even one sliver of hope she’d be here.
Her voice was soft in the darkness, rich with promise. “Right in front of you.”
The click of the lamp seemed as loud as a shot in the quiet of the room. Light flared, bathing Brooke, showing John just why he’d spent so many sleepless nights fantasizing about her.
She was perfect. Naked, just as she’d promised. Stretched out on his bed, propped up on his pillows, burrowing her way into his brain so deep he’d never be able to get this one single moment of perfection out of his mind.
Not that he’d try.
Her skin glowed with health. She wasn’t very tall, but her proportions were perfect, her limbs sleek and shaped with feminine strength. Her strawberry-blonde hair fell over her slim shoulders, curling slightly at the ends. It was just long enough to caress the tops of her breasts in a way that made John jealous. Her dark-pink nipples were tight, reaching out towards him. The slim curve of her waist flared out to womanly hips and a flat, smooth belly. The hair between her thighs was a darker blonde, and John wanted nothing more than to see if it was as soft as it looked.
She was still wearing all her jewellery, including a dainty ring around one toe. Silver hoops dangled from her ears and a flash of light caught the ring in her navel.
Too damn sexy. Too damn young.
“I can’t do this,” he said, more in an effort to convince himself.
She slid from the bed, all sinuous grace and confidence. She didn’t try to hide herself from him. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
Maybe if she covered up he’d have some hope of walking away without her making any mistakes she’d regret later.
Brooke got closer, and John tried to turn away and run. He really did. But it was a lost cause. He could no more have turned his back on her now than he could have last night, when she came to him afraid and angry.
She’d needed him and he’d been there. He was afraid that the same would be true tonight, only the need would be different.
“Sure you can. I’ll show you how.” She slid her hands under his T-shirt, pushing it up until she could press her naked breasts against his ribs.
The soft heat of her skin sank into him, forcing a groan of pleasure from his chest.
He hadn’t intended to help her, but somehow, his shirt was off now. She couldn’t have gotten it off without his cooperation, could she?
John couldn’t think straight, and he sure as hell wasn’t up to any logic puzzles right now. Standing up on his own was about as much as he could reasonably expect of himself at this point.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked.
Her fingers dug into his chest, her nails biting in just enough to make his nerve endings dance. “Because I want you,” she said. “Because you want me, too. We’re going to be so good together. You’ll see.”
Oh, he had no doubt about that. They’d be hot. Explosive. “But what about after?”
She gave him a smile only a real woman could wear. It was full of confidence and the hint of a challenge. “You’re not going to have to worry about that for a long time. It’s going to be a while until I’m finished with you. At least a few days.”
Days? Lord, have mercy. He wouldn’t survive.
John grabbed her bare arms, thinking that if he could rip her away, he might have a chance of talking some sense into her, but as soon as his skin met hers, he forgot everything but the feel of her under his palms.
He’d touched plenty of women in his life, but never one quite so soft and smooth and warm as Brooke. He had no idea how she did it.
Her hands moved up over his shoulders around to the back of his head. Her fingers speared through his hair, cupping the back of his skull. She tugged on his head, trying to pull him down for a kiss.
John resisted, knowing that if his mouth touched hers again, he’d be just as lost as he had been in the car. Hell, armed kidnappers had been coming for her then and her kiss had nearly made him forget the danger. Without any other life-threatening events going down, he was a goner for sure.
“Afraid?” she asked, daring him with a half-smile.
“Hell, yes. If I kiss you, I’m going to fuck you.”
“That was kinda what I was going for here. I thought I was being fairly obvious.”
John closed his eyes, blocking out the sight of her mouth. It didn’t help. He could still smell her. He could still feel her fingers warm against his scalp, pulling him down.
He stood there, frozen, unable to let her do this. His body shook with the effort of remaining still, but he managed to use every bit of his military training to hang tough.
And then she kissed him. Her warm lips pressed against his collarbone, the side of his neck. Her hot little tongue swept out over his skin, making him shiver. With each movement of her mouth, John lost a bit more of his good intentions. His heart was pounding, slamming wave after wave of flaming blood through his veins. He was hard, thick and eager for her. Hell, he had been all day. It took a monumental amount of will power to keep from pinning her down on the bed and mounting her like a rutting animal. As soon as her teeth grazed his flesh, closing against him enough to leave a wicked sting, he knew he had lost.
Surrender. That was the only course of action left. Sex with Brooke was no longer a question, it was a mission.
“You win,” he whispered as he dipped his head and took her mouth in a kiss.
He could feel her smile of victory shaping her lips, but he didn’t care. He was too lost in the taste of her, the slippery glide of her tongue. She kissed him back with abandon, sucking at his tongue and nipping his bottom lip with her teeth.
Every sweet sting drove him crazier, until the only thought going through his head was how he could get his jeans off without taking his hands from her body. The slim lines of her back felt too good under his palms to let go. He gripped her hips, hoping he could push her away enough to shed his clothes, but he couldn’t seem to do it. Instead, he pulled her closer, grinding his erection against her belly.
Brooke let out a sweet moan of need, and her fingers went to his fly. She squeezed her hand between their bodies and rubbed him through the denim.
It wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel her hands on him, pumping him nice and slow. Of course, he would probably blow his load the second she wrapped those pretty fingers around him.
Too many years and too many wet dreams had done nothing to prepare him for this moment.
She tugged at the button, releasing it, then eased the zipper over his cock. She pushed his jeans and boxers down enough to give her room to work, then took a hold of him, gripping him tight but not moving.
John sucked in a long breath, hoping it would help him hold back.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” she asked. He could hear satisfaction in her voice. “I could go down on my knees right now and suck you off in no time flat, I bet.”
His mouth went dry and his throat closed up. Words were not going to happen for him. Not now. Actions were much better.
He may have let her win the battle and convince him to sleep with her, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to win the war. She thought she had the upper hand. She thought that because he was a man and easy to turn on that she could call the shots.
She was wrong.
John backed her up until she hit the edge of the bed, then kept pushing. She toppled back, landing in a delicious sprawl of slim arms and legs.
He followed her, crawling on to the bed, straddling her, keeping her pinned. She inched back towards the headboard, smiling, her eyes dark with passion, her breasts jiggling with each sinuous movement.
John stared at the motion, as entranced as any red-blooded man would be by the sight of naked breasts, though he had to admit that hers were possibly the finest he’d ever seen. Smooth, firm, jutting just enough to convince him she was all woman. All his, at least for tonight.
She’d moved back far enough to make room for what he intended, so he pressed her shoulders down on the bed with his body. Beneath him, she was sleek and warm, with womanly curves that mated exactly with the harsher planes of his body. Her breasts pressed into his chest and he could feel the hard buds of her nipples beckoning him to touch and tease. His hand eased down her flank, his fingers curling into her flesh, staking a claim on every inch as he went.
He pushed himself up, watching as she stared at the powerful moment of his arms and shoulders, her eyes dilating. She liked what she saw, which worked for him. Whatever got her off – he was all for it.
Brooke wriggled and arched to bring her breasts closer to him. John knew how to take a hint. He bent down and sucked one nipple into his mouth. Her skin tasted of woman and the salty sheen of lust. Under his tongue, her nipple tightened as he suckled her. His fingers fanned over her other breast, gently pinching her nipple between two fingers.
Brooke let out a keening cry and her whole body went taut, nearly vibrating. Under him, her body writhed and her legs parted enough to allow his thigh to press between them. John’s leg muscles clenched and the iron hardness of his thigh ground against the softness between hers, making Brooke gasp.
Her eyes opened, heavy-lidded and sparking with eager passion. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but her mouth worked incoherently, letting nothing more than a soft moan past her lips.
/> Her soft body squirmed under his. With each supple movement of her body, John’s erection became painful. Without remorse, he forced her to rub her mound against him. He knew he was going too fast, but, by God, she would be hot and ready for him if it killed him.
John was pretty sure it might do just that.
He kissed and licked her breasts, as he stroked his hands over her body, keeping her on the edge, strung tight with need. He could feel her wetness soaking into his jeans, and knowing he could do that to her nearly blew the top of his head off. His hand slid down her pale stomach and he parted the tight curls with his fingers and delved between slick, petal soft folds of skin. She was wet. Hot. Ready.
John forgot to breathe. A wave of dizziness washed over him, forcing him to pull in a strangled breath.
He carefully pushed one finger inside Brooke, the narrow path eased by her arousal. She moaned, a deep, husky sound that vibrated through her entire body, tickling his fingertip.
She was tight, but her body accepted the invasion. John pulled back and slid a second finger alongside the first. She tensed and he bent his head down to her straining nipples, suckling on her to keep her flying high. He wasn’t a huge man, but he wasn’t small, either. The fit was going to be tight even after his fingers worked to stretch her and make her ready to take him.
Sweat beaded on John’s forehead and slid down the groove of his spine. All he wanted was to spread her thighs and finish it. But that’s not what John wanted for Brooke. He wanted her melting with pleasure, screaming out with it. Preferably his name.
The thought pushed him that much closer to the edge. His body drew tighter, more insistent. He needed release, but not as much as he needed to taste her.
He pushed her thighs wide. The scent of her desire was on his hands, in the air between them, making him drunk and dizzy from wanting to be inside her.
With almost feral intensity, her lowered his mouth to her sensitive flesh, parted the folds with his thumbs and found the knot of her clitoris. He wanted her panting and senseless with pleasure when he entered her. He wanted her writhing beneath him, clawing at his back, exploding until she milked every last drop of semen from his body.