by Angi Morgan
“We both are. Is that door locked?” He was taking his time getting his boots unlaced and off his feet.
She was ready to shimmy out of her jeans and put her head on a pillow. Once her eyes were closed she wouldn’t put her foot in her mouth so easily. At least she hoped not to step all over her words.
Jake leaned back against the window and closed his eyes. Now was her chance. She quickly unzipped and scooted and pulled, peeling each leg out of the denim. Now she wouldn’t get the bed soaking wet. She rotated to get between the cab seats and took a quick glance toward the driver’s seat.
Hot brown eyes burned her skin as he looked her over from her hip to her ankle and back again. “That probably wasn’t a great idea.”
“Nope.” Jake’s Adam’s apple visibly moved.
Why she was paralyzed she didn’t know. He took another long, smoldering stare, not bothering to hide it. How was it possible for brown eyes to look so hot? Or for her skin, so cold a few moments before, to feel on fire when he hadn’t touched her at all?
“Night.” His voice was low and hoarse. And, more than anything else, sexy.
“Good night, Jake.”
She moved her left foot toward the bed and a single finger circled her right hip bone, stopping both her movement and her heart. The same nail she’d envied moments before skimmed the length of her leg like a butterfly. So soft she wondered if she was imagining it.
Her heart jump-started again, pounding, questioning what should come next or if anything would come next. Her mind told her to wrap herself tight in those covers and forget he was in the sleeper cab. But her body had reacted to him from the first moment she’d seen him twenty-four hours earlier.
It was too soon. Then why was his finger still taunting her skin? Was he asking permission? Wondering what she’d do?
She wanted the answer to that question, too. Unable to move forward, unable to tell him to stop. She barely knew him. But she’d lived more in one day at his side than she had in the past two years alone.
She captured his hand closing in on her hip again. He didn’t pull away. She didn’t push him away. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply and letting the warmth of his palm soak into her skin again.
Then she laced her fingers through his, not letting go as she lay between the covers and tugged him into the sleeper with her.
Chapter Eighteen
“I don’t think this is what your uncle had in mind when he told us to get some rest.” He smiled at her, staying on his knees, giving her time to reconsider.
Their first kiss at his apartment didn’t encourage her to reconsider. She wanted to take advantage of the storm and their break in this madness.
“Shh. Don’t talk. Don’t think.”
Exhausted from listening to her head and pushing her heart aside, she slid her fingertip across his lips until the fire returned to his eyes. She dragged her nails down his sweater and warmed her hands against his tight undershirt against his abs.
He crossed his arms and a moment later the soft wool was tossed to the front seat. “There’s not much room back here.”
“I think we’ll fit.”
Her hands tugged a moment at the white cotton, but he delayed her, reaching to the small of his back. He unhooked his gun holster and laid it to the side of the pillow. Shifting, he straddled her legs, removed his shirt, belt and moved to his jeans.
“Wait.” She took his hands away from the zipper. “There’s something I’ve been dying to do.”
Back in his apartment, he’d casually walked around shirtless. This moment wasn’t her first glimpse of his muscles and tight abs or the first time she’d longed to get his hot skin next to hers. But it was her first contact and she planned on enjoying it. She wasn’t disappointed. His heat shot through her palms as she slowly caressed each curve and hard contour.
Jake could have melted those snowdrifts if he’d just taken his shirt off. The burning under her hands intensified with each pass across his chest. There wasn’t an ounce of soft on him.
It would have been easy to let her eyes close and just feel. Let his hands have their way and start the intimate exploring. But watching his eyes close and hearing his sharp hiss between his clenched teeth as she ran her fingers along the top of his jeans...it made the anticipation of his exploration even more intense.
She was glad the diesel engine had the entire truck humming as much as her body. The small vibration hid the quiver shooting through her. She didn’t want Jake to feel guilty or question this moment later—today, tomorrow or days from now. He wasn’t taking advantage of her emotions or their fatigue. Whatever happened later between them happened. She had no illusions.
But she also knew the risks of not loving when you could. What if she went to jail and never had the opportunity to love again? What if something went wrong with the rescue and she wasn’t around at all?
Making love was her question to ask. Her choice to make. Jake had already given his consent. She unzipped his fly, feeling his power as she peeled the jeans down to his knees. She saw him stretched to capacity and they hadn’t truly touched yet. He leaned forward, his arms to either side of her, demonstrating the control he had by kicking out of one pants leg and then the other. He didn’t touch her. She longed to arch her back or wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him to her breasts.
After the jeans joined the other clothing in the front seat, Jake pushed back to his previous straddle. His last article of clothing did little to hide his desire. The jolt of longing kicking its way through her insides was driving her crazy. The man who had saved her more than once today, leaned to one side, tugging slowly at the comforter she’d been hiding under.
It was still her choice to move forward or pull the covers back to her chin. She allowed them to glide past her hips. He used the back of his finger, dragging it along the bottom of her T-shirt, then along her ribs and the curve of her breast. She thought she’d died right then and there, but he drew more circles on the inside of her arm, across her belly, along her neck—everywhere except where she wanted him the most.
“Your turn to lose the shirt,” that deep voice said, thick with lust. “Need help?”
Was it just lust?
No.
Jake Craig could have seduced her in the shower, could have coaxed her to his comfortable bed. Instead, he’d fought icy roads and high winds to get her closer to rescuing her family. Even now, he skimmed the outside of her shirt, raising the edge, skittering across her skin to make her ache with need.
This humble marine turned detective had given up so much to help her. He’d pushed forward through a blizzard. He might have threatened her with jail, but he’d sent a detailed shopping list with her sizes for new clothes. And every step of the way, he’d listened to her opinion and thoughts.
There was a strong possibility she was falling for this guy and they had kissed once.
Remedying their lack of kissing should be easy. She put her hands on his shoulders and brought his hard body down to hers. But Jake had his own idea and slid one hand under her waist, arching her back to expose her neck.
A sigh escaped her when their hips finally connected. It wasn’t enough. The weight of him felt protective and she wanted more. Her fingers seized his flexing biceps, wanting to push them aside and have him crash onto her.
He teased her flesh by tipping her head back and caressing her jawline with his lips. He got closer, his kisses hotter, but when she turned her lips toward him, he’d dart to the flesh on the inside of her arm. He continued his playful toying down her neck and across the tops of her breasts.
How long did he think she could take this exquisite abuse?
“Ready to lose this shirt yet?” he asked.
Her shirt came off with the barest break in his torturous touching. He was building a bonfire and she was the wood. E
ach stroke added another bit of fuel just waiting for a spark. His hands skimmed over her nipples, almost ignoring them, making them ache for a wild grasp right until the palm of his hand scorched her belly.
And then...the shyest of touches on the outside of her panties. Her heart pounded at just the thought. If his hands weren’t skimming, touching or cupping, his lips were. She didn’t want to be on the edge of this flame by herself and did a little of her own skimming, but the place Jake was taking her was within her grasp.
“Go on,” he whispered into her ear. His lips continued down her jaw and he dipped his head toward her shoulder.
Her hands darted out to bring his face to hers. As her body exploded, his lips enveloped hers. Strong and just right. Everything about it was as perfect as she’d known it would be.
If the two of them had been smoldering since their chance encounter at the diner and he’d built her bonfire on top of the embers, then their kiss was the ignition switch.
There was no slow left for either of them. Wild, demanding kisses and strokes that left them with the covers tangled around their ankles. The chill in the air didn’t matter. Encased in Jake’s heat, Bree could only think of getting closer to his burning skin, becoming a part of him completely and staying there. The more she thought about it, the warmer she became.
He shifted to his side to lean on his elbow. His eyes were dark, and the furrow was back between his eyebrows. He lightly rubbed that serious spot on his forehead.
“You’re thinking again.”
“I feel like I’ve been waiting a lifetime to see you naked. You are so damn beautiful, Sabrina Watkins.”
“And that makes you worry?”
“It’s hard for me to remember we’ve only known each other twenty-four hours.” And that you should be handed over to authorities.
“Does that make a difference?” she asked, dragging a finger across his chest. Making him forget even more.
“Maybe it should, but it doesn’t.” He twirled a strand of her hair around his pinky, leaving it curled as it unwound and dropped next to her tiny ear. He could spend hours taking her body to different sensual levels.
“I know,” she whispered before dragging his mouth back to hers. He was ready to kiss more than just her luscious lips.
Before he got crazy with Bree again, he needed the condom from his jeans that he’d picked up inside the truck stop. He’d known—or hoped—this would happen as soon as Jerry suggested grabbing some shut-eye together.
Reluctantly, he backed away from the woman in his arms and dug through his jeans. The snow was still coming down and the wind still moved the truck from side to side. It was the first time he noticed the curtains for the sleeper. He flipped on a small mounted lamp, pulled the curtains and created an intimate cocoon.
The awaiting butterfly still needed to shed one more layer. The frilly black bra hadn’t been replaced by something practical from his list. It was hers. The one she’d been wearing since they’d met.
Crazy that it had been one day.
Crazier still was the way he wanted this woman. He wanted her with a fierce hunger and couldn’t understand why. He didn’t need to understand. She clearly wanted his body, as well.
The back of her hand skimmed across the front of his skivvies when he returned. He pressed toward her fingers, straining to be skin to skin. He used his hand in much the same way and received a sigh and tingle from Bree. Her hands roamed his body and he let his hands roam, too. He lightly traced the lace cups and her pulse leaped in her throat.
Watching her come to life and enjoy his exploring had taken him to a level of sensuality he hadn’t experienced before and didn’t want to rush. But this was definitely torture.
Time to unsnap the bra and kiss more of Bree’s skin. He slid the cups down, releasing the most perfect pair of breasts he’d set eyes on. His mouth followed what his eyes had devoured in a heartbeat. His lips locked on her cool nipple, making it pebble while the other warmed in his hand.
He looped his finger in the material at her hip, a gentle tug on one side of the thong and—without intending to—the delicate sides snapped. Bree giggled. And his mouth jumped into a smile at the sound.
As bold and comfortable as he became with Bree, she became with him. She matched him touch for touch, stroke for stroke, kiss for kiss. Her body’s need was matching his, too. No question about it as she reached for the condom.
Bree surprised him with long, gliding strokes before rolling it on. The tension and heat rose within him and her, if her breath was any indication. She lay back on the mattress, ready, waiting.
No more waiting.
The small space had its advantages. It might not be the sexiest place to make love but he didn’t care. He braced himself with one locked arm and slid the other to the small of her back and lifted her, sliding home. Her eyes closed and her mouth opened on a long sigh as she surrounded every inch of him.
Lying next to her, exploring her body...all fine and good. None of that compared to connecting to her. Being complete with her. Rushing to a place that only the two of them could get to together. No, it was more than just good.
Why he wanted that connection and with this particular woman—well, he wasn’t wondering about it too much. He needed to be closer, dropped to cover her, feel soft skin next to his.
Finishing would be easy, but he’d make sure Bree was satisfied and then satisfied a second time. With slow, even strokes, he loved her. Her hands gripped his shoulders and her body met his, thrust for thrust. The pace picked up, as did their breathing. A moment later her body tightened and she cried out. He caught her hands in his and kept on going.
Inside her was a warm cocoon of its own. She wrapped her legs around him and kept him close. If the wind hadn’t hidden the rocking motion of the tractor, then no one would have had any doubts of what was happening inside. The small berth locked the world out, intensifying her softness, her smell, his need. With a few last strokes, they both cried out in fulfillment.
He rolled to his side and caught her to him, barely catching his breath before the scent of his shampoo in her hair made him stiffen again. He wanted more than one morning in her arms. He’d thought he was crazy before. Now there was no doubt.
The magical first moment was over and he waited for reality to burst back on the scene. Waited for Bree to move away. But she didn’t.
When her breathing slowed, she faced him, pulled his mouth to hers and he kissed her lips like the first and last time all melted together. She curled her fist against his chest and in two shakes was asleep.
How could he have thought sharing sex would lessen the need for her? Once would never be enough. It wasn’t even enough for the moment. There needed to be a lot more moments between them. He used the back of a finger to softly caress the darkening cheekbone where she’d been hit by her abductors. He skimmed her breasts and her breathing hitched, wakening her from her light sleep. His hand wandered over her tight belly and then lower.
“We should probably get some shut-eye,” she said with an anticipated sigh. “You were...um...pretty tired before the workout.”
“Tired before you took your pants off and I saw how little that tiny thong actually covered.” He tucked a strand of almost black hair behind her ear and remembered a box of dark hair dye. “I was thinking I should probably know what your real hair color is.”
There was one way to satisfy his curiosity and to start another moment.
“I’ve dyed it darker than...oh...”
They could sleep soon, but first, he needed to see for himself.
Chapter Nineteen
Something was different.
Jake woke to darkness and a warm body in his arms. That was different. He hadn’t had a woman in his bed since before his last tour began. But there was something more.
He was wi
th Bree in the sleeper of Jerry’s big rig, behind a heavy curtain. Light snuck through the edges a little brighter than it had when the sun came up.
Storm raging, at different times, they’d pulled most of their clothes back on to be ready to go. He missed the warm smoothness of Bree’s skin under his fingers and missed her nails lightly scraping his flesh.
Lying next to her still felt good. She fit. He needed someone who fit. Maybe... The “maybe” dangled in front of him, taunting. Challenging him to jump forward and grab it. Those kind of thoughts were for someone with a future. They wouldn’t have one if he didn’t clear her name. Even then, the woman in his arms knew nothing of his past. Nothing about the nightmares of war. And he knew nothing about how to tell her.
Now, he needed to concentrate on what had changed.
The diesel still hummed. The noise level from the wind wasn’t as loud. He’d swear that the swaying had died down to almost nothing. Both cells vibrated at his head. He’d kept them close in case they rang, but they were both out of his reach unless he moved the sleepyhead off his shoulder. The limited space in the sleeper kept him from claiming Bree’s lips first thing like he wanted. He settled for her forehead.
“Bree, time to go.” He stretched as best he could and pulled a curtain back to him, filling the small area with bright sunshine.
No snow blowing sideways.
The wind hadn’t just slowed down. It had barreled to a racing halt.
“You okay?” Bree asked, pushing up and leaning on her forearm. “Holy smokes, is that the freeway? The storm’s over. You’re right, it is time to get moving.”
Different. He liked different. He patted the bed around his head, searching for the closest phone to answer. She reached over him, her breast flattening against his chest, starting a desire that couldn’t be finished...at the moment.