Anna Leigh Keaton & Madison Layle - Incognito 04 - Healing Heather

by Anna Leigh Keaton

  She turned her face to press a kiss into his palm, then leaned forward and touched her lips to his neck, the flesh exposed by the V of his shirt.

  He seemed to hesitate, but eventually his arms wrapped around her. He dipped his head for a kiss, but she avoided his lips, sinking lower to his chest, nudging the material aside as far as she could. His hands released her and yanked the shirt over his head in one smooth motion.

  “Are you sure, Heather?”

  She answered by nipping his hard male nipple, which made him growl and bring them both to their knees.

  “You’re going to get us both arrested,” he chastised, but that didn’t stop him from unfastening his pants. Pulling his handgun from his waistband, he set it on the blanket.

  She giggled and attacked his neck with more kisses, sucking and licking his skin, enjoying the slightly salty taste and the heady feeling of control he allowed her despite her bound wrists.

  When his jeans tangled around his legs, he fell back on his butt, and she tumbled forward on top of him, between his bent knees. With his legs now bound by his own pants and her weight, he gave a bark of laughter and threw up his hands as if in surrender.

  Unable to get up without help, she grinned and kissed her way down his chest. An ocean wave teased her toes as she scooted lower, following the thin trail of fine hair to the apex of his thighs. As she neared her target, she sensed the change in his breathing—virtually absent amid the hushed rumble of the nearby surf.

  She glanced up to see him propped on elbows, watching, waiting. Ever so slowly, she licked his hardening length and wished the light from the bungalow lit his face instead of hiding it in shadow.

  Again, she ran her moist tongue over his flesh, feeling his body react to her touch. As she reached the tip, she closed her eyes and sucked him into her mouth.

  “Ah, honey.” His head fell back. His hips lifted for more, and she willingly gave it.

  Her knees bent under her, straddling his legs, she controlled her movements as she took pleasure in providing for him. His encouraging moan made her redouble her efforts. She took as much of his cock in with each thrust as possible, pausing to twirl her tongue around the tip on each withdrawal.

  But then fingers dove into her damp hair. Frigid fear shot up her spine, choking off any sense of reality. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t talk.

  Violet! She jerked her head away from him.

  His fingers held her a second too long before she was finally free and falling back into the shallow surf.

  “Violet,” she screamed, trying desperately to scramble to her feet but unable to with her hands bound and the small waves battering her body. The sand no longer soothed, but instead oozed around her flailing body like quicksand.

  The large, shadowy figure cursed and lunged for her, making her cry out and kick. He fell back, but so did she. Unable to run, she closed her eyes and curled into a ball, a futile attempt to protect herself from the impending blows...which never came.

  Another small wave slapped her back as she ventured a peek at the dark figure and tried to catch her breath.

  His movements were short, quick and agitated, but they were aimed at his pants rather than her body. A moment later she heard the harsh rasp of a zipper and saw him kneel in the sand beside her, his arms braced on his thighs.

  “Forgive me, Heather.”

  Paul.

  “Honey, I’m so sorry. I know you aren’t ready for this, but I just can’t seem to help myself whenever you’re around.” He dug in his pocket, pulled out his keys, and reached toward her. She flinched. “Here, I’m only going to undo the cuffs, okay?”

  She remained motionless—tense—as he moved around her to reach the handcuffs. He didn’t touch her skin anywhere as he disconnected the locking mechanisms.

  “You could’ve drowned falling back into the water like that. If it had been any deeper... God, I’m so sorry.”

  Free, she sat up, rubbing her wrists and feeling colder than she’d ever felt in her life. Now kneeling beside her, he partially faced the illuminated bungalow, so she could make out his expression, read the concern in his eyes.

  He raised his hand toward her, only to stop shy of touching her damp, sand encrusted cheek. With sadness marring his handsome face, he dropped his hand and got up to retrieve his shirt, then clipped the holster with his handgun onto his waistband at his back.

  I’m an idiot. How could she mistake his gentle touch for the same as that of the man who beat her? Watching him shake the sand from his shirt, she realized how illogical her panic had been. But had it caused a breach so great that they couldn’t bridge it?

  “Don’t go,” she murmured.

  He stopped, turned. “What?”

  She slowly stood up, baring more than her body to his observant gaze. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “I can’t stay here and not touch you. I won’t be far, only in my truck.”

  She grabbed his arm. “I’m sorry.” She hugged him and wanted to cry when his arms didn’t immediately enclose her in their warm embrace. Burying her face against his chest, she tried to make amends. “I couldn’t control it. When I felt your hands on my head I panicked. I’m not scared of you, Paul. I swear I’m not. But I can’t get him out of my mind.” Her tears broke free as she sobbed and admitted her worse fear. “I’m afraid I’ll never be free of him, that I’ll never be brave enough to submit my heart again.”

  He dropped his shirt, grasped her arms, and held her away enough to look her in the eye. His hands slid up her neck to cup her face, thumbs wiping away her tears and sand. “Let’s get you inside and warmed up.” His voice was low, gentle. With a chaste kiss on her forehead, he lifted her into his arms and carried her toward the house, leaving the blanket, his shirt, and her clothes behind.

  He paused only long enough to set the bar to secure the patio door, and then took her straight to the bathroom. When he set her on her feet, she shivered slightly. After depositing her under the warm spray, he shucked his pants and boots and joined her.

  “Turn around,” he said, forming a bubbly lather with the bar of soap in his hands.

  She did as told and soon felt the warmth of his hands soothe her naked shoulders and back, wiping away the gritty sand. Without a word, she remained perfectly still as he cleaned her body and shampooed her hair. When she finally moved in an attempt to return the favor, he gripped her wrists and shook his head.

  “Don’t move.”

  She obeyed only long enough for him to quickly soap up and rinse off. As he reached to turn off the water, she challenged his authority by running her hands over his buttocks, around his hips, and...

  His spine stiffened, and he turned to stop her hands again. Only this time, she avoided him long enough to wrap them around his neck and bring her wet body in full frontal contact with his.

  “Heather,” he growled, “I’m warning you, darlin’. I’m not made of stone.”

  She giggled. “Could’ve fooled me.”

  He groaned. “You don’t need this...right now.”

  “Aye, Master, I do.”

  Passion warred with duty in the deep golden-brown depths of his eyes. His jaw ticked.

  “Please? No ties, no commands. Just the two of us. Here and now. I—”

  His lips cut her off. His tongue silenced her plea and answered it with sizzling abandon.

  He lifted her and pinned her between the cool tile wall and his hot, hard body, while his hands ran over her thighs, silently instructing her to wrap her legs around him.

  Breaking free of her mouth, he pressed a heated trail of kisses along her neck, her collarbone and lower as he raised her higher. His mouth laid claim to one breast just as she felt the tip of his erect cock aim perfectly for her inner core.

  Her fingers sought purchase on his slick back, digging in, barely hanging on.

  A hard suck on her breast pulled a cry from her lungs, and then he slammed in to the hilt.

  His mouth returned to hers, their teeth and
tongues dueling in a frantic dance of give and take. She could no longer sense where she stopped and he began. She was finally whole again after years of loneliness and need.

  Each thrust of his powerful hips pushed him deeper, filled her more than she thought possible, and drove her closer to the edge.

  But just as she neared the peak, the climax virtually inevitable, he started to pull away.

  “No!” With her arms banded around his neck, she clung to him. Her legs locked about his hips, refusing to release him. She didn’t want it to end.

  “Ah, fuck, honey, I can’t...” His fingers bit into her thighs as his cock plowed into her once more and jerked, holding her aloft against the wall.

  The final thrust sent her over the cliff, her body trembling with orgasmic furor. Her inner muscles clamped around him as warmth infused her very soul.

  Chapter Seven

  Paul sucked in deep breaths and willed his erratic heart to settle. Heather, still clinging to him like a vine, her inner muscles still flexing around his semi-erect cock, purred like a very satisfied kitten in his ear.

  He’d never lost control before. Never. Hell, not since his divorce over ten years ago had he had sex without protection. He wasn’t some irresponsible kid. He knew better.

  Heather nipped his neck then captured his earlobe between her teeth. His cock jumped inside her, and he knew if he had the chance, he’d make love to her all night. But he couldn’t ignore what had just happened, what the possible outcome could be.

  As he slowly pulled away from her, she lowered her legs until she stood in front of him, staring up at him with those expressive emerald eyes. When he cradled her face in his palms, she smiled and went up on tiptoe to accept his kiss. Her mouth was so damn sweet, her tongue playful. With a groan, he turned away and shut off the water.

  He helped her from the tub and dried her off, taking extra care with her sensitive breasts and between her thighs. By the time he finished, she looked ready for another round. Her eyelids drooped in a sexy way, her lips rosy and swollen from their kisses.

  Taking her hand, he led her into the bedroom and pulled back the blankets for her to slip under. She smiled at him and, as soon as she’d reclined against the pillows, held out her hand to him. An invitation. What he’d been hoping for these past long, sleepless nights.

  “One second, honey.” He checked the alarm and the locks. As tired as he was, if he got her heated little body curled up against him, he was going to sleep hard, leaving them both unprotected. Grabbing his weapon from the bathroom vanity where he’d left it, he turned off all of the lights and headed back into the bedroom.

  The handgun on the nightstand within easy reach, he slid under the covers and pulled Heather against him. She sighed, her warm breath brushing across his chest, and then kissed his chin. “This is nice,” she murmured, her body already beginning to relax.

  “Mmm hmm,” he agreed. It was more than nice having her in his arms. But... “We need to discuss what happened in the shower.”

  “What?”

  “We had unprotected sex, Heather. You could be pregnant.”

  She was silent for so long, he wondered if she’d fallen asleep. But then she sucked in a breath and shook her head against his shoulder. “No. I’m not.”

  Was that sadness he heard in her voice? “Are you on the pill or patch or something?”

  Again she shook her head.

  He leaned back to try to see her, but the room was utterly black. He touched her cheek and strained through the darkness to see her eyes.

  “Stop worrying, Paul.” This time there was no mistaking the sadness in her tone. “I was married for fifteen years and never got pregnant. And anyway, even if I did, I wouldn’t expect anything from you. I’m not out to trap anyone into marriage or commitment or anything. I’m almost forty years old. I can take care of myself and anyone else who might...” Her voice faded out, and he felt a hot tear on his fingertips.

  Damn it all to hell, he didn’t want her to have to take care of herself. He wanted to take care of her, and if that meant a dozen kids, he’d gladly take them on. He’d never thought much about children before, yet the idea of her giving him a baby... But if she couldn’t...so what? He wanted her. All of her.

  He wanted her to trust that he could and would be there for her, with or without children.

  “Heather?”

  She turned away, her body stiff as she curled into herself on the other side of the bed.

  “Don’t you dare turn away from me.” He tugged her back into his arms.

  She struggled with him, but then gave in and rested her cheek against his chest. “I’ve never had unprotected sex since Davie,” she said. “Because of disease and stuff. So you don’t have to worry about that.”

  “I wasn’t. I never thought that. I was worried about pregnancy and what you would think if I’d let that happen. I’m not an irresponsible youth, but I couldn’t... I lose my head where you’re concerned, Heather.” He brushed her curls away from her face, wishing for enough illumination so he could make out the light freckles on her fair skin, the deep green of her eyes. “And so you know, I haven’t had unprotected sex since I was married, either.”

  “If I got pregnant, it would be my own fault. I wouldn’t blame you. But since that won’t happen, there’s nothing more to talk about.... You were married?”

  He smiled at the surprise in her voice, but wasn’t ready to change the subject quite so quickly. “How do you know you never became pregnant because of you and not your husband?”

  She shrugged. “He came from a very prolific family. The women in my family tend to have a lot of strange problems with their ovaries. It just makes sense.”

  “But you’ve never been tested or seen a doctor about it.”

  “No.”

  “Then there is a possibility.”

  “I’m too old.” She tried pushing away, but he held her tight.

  “My mom was thirty-eight when she had me. You’re not too old, and you’re in good physical shape.”

  She gave up her half-hearted struggle against him.

  “I need to know, honey, how you’d feel...if. Would you welcome a child or not?”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything from the father.”

  He squeezed her until she squeaked, then loosened his hold. “Answer the question, Heather. And answer it honestly.”

  After a long, silent pause, she whispered, “I’d welcome a child into my life. But hoping is too painful.” She swiped her eye, and he hated that he made her cry.

  He leaned down and kissed her softly. “I would, too.”

  “Tell me about your wife.”

  He nipped the tip of her nose. “Not much to tell, really. We married young. I’d just finished a stint with the Marines and had joined the police force. She was fresh out of Harvard and working for a law firm. We mistook lust for love and got married. Within a few years the lust fizzled, we never saw each other because of our work schedules, and it ended. No big deal.”

  “Really?” She kissed his chin. “Is it no big deal, or is there more?”

  There had been disappointment and anger at first, but he didn’t feel like delving into emotions best left buried. It had been a dozen years ago. “It was too long ago to matter. All I care about is the here and now. And you.” He ran his tongue over her lips and smiled when he heard her breath catch.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and took the kiss deeper. Her tongue teased his, her teeth nipped, and when she brought her leg up, her thigh brushed his already erect cock. He groaned and rolled them so he settled between her silky thighs.

  “You make me crazy for you,” he said between nibbles on her neck.

  She moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, as he twirled her nipple between his fingers. “You make me hot, Detective Baxter.”

  He chuckled, amazed at how quickly her moods changed. As the tip of his cock brushed against her heated folds, he knew he’d never have enough of her. He’d never let
her go, no matter what. Children or no children. Even if it meant vanilla sex for the rest of his life. As long as he had her heart, he’d be a satisfied man.

  Her body writhed beneath him, her soft sounds of arousal brought him to new heights. And as he sank deep within her slick, heated body, he knew he’d found the woman his soul had been searching an eternity for.

  * * * * *

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were daydreaming.”

  Heather’s head snapped upright. Her friend and co-worker, Bethany, stood in the doorway to her cramped office. She had been daydreaming, she thought with a guilty smile. Staring at the computer screen in front of her and remembering each and every touch of Paul’s mouth and hands.

  “I’m too busy to daydream,” she answered briskly, then lost the battle and giggled.

  “You were!” Beth folded her arms over her middle, laughed, and plopped her butt against the edge of Heather’s desk. “This is a red letter day. Our very own Heather Gilpatrick is giggling like a schoolgirl. So, what’s his name?”

  Not ready to talk about Paul to anyone, she pursed her lips and shook her head. He was too new. The relationship too tenuous to get her hopes up. But, she couldn’t get him out of her head.

  From the moment she woke up in his arms that morning, to the breakfast he’d cooked for her, to the deep, lust-induced kiss he’d given her before she left for work—almost making her late—he filled her senses.

  “Come on. Just his first name.” When Heather only smiled, Beth said, “His initials?” She shook her head. “Then at least tell me what he does for a living.”

  Heather laughed. “He’s a cop.”

  Beth’s eyes went wide. “Be still my heart. Does he have sexy...handcuffs?”

  Heather threw a pen at her, which she dodged with a laugh.

  “Okay, okay,” Beth said in defense. “Seriously, did you realize it’s past five? Time to go home.”

  With a quick glance at the clock on her monitor, Heather stood up and started shutting down the computer. No, she hadn’t realized the time. She’d been too busy thinking about Paul. He’d said he’d be waiting for her when she got home. She didn’t want to be late and cause him to worry.