Up In Flames

by Lori Foster

  He held her gaze as he asked, “Are you wet for me right now, Delilah?”

  Her pupils dilated, she shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “Check for me.”

  Her lips parted. “But...”

  “Put your fingers between your legs,” he urged, “and tell me what you feel.”

  Her pulse thrummed wildly in her throat. She swallowed hard, her gaze locked with his, and when her hand moved between her thighs, Mick had to bite back a groan. He locked his knees against the wash of raging lust.

  “I...I’m swollen. And hot.”

  Triumph exploded through him. “And?”

  Trembling, she whispered, “And wet.”

  He cursed low. The damn shirt pulled at his shoulder as he tried to wrest it off. Delilah stepped up to him, her entire body quivering. “Let me.”

  With gentle hands she eased the shirt from him, then went to her knees to work on his jeans. Not this time, he told himself, seeing her on her knees, knowing how ready she was for him.

  He let her get his jeans unsnapped and unzipped, then he stepped away. “Stand up, Delilah.”

  “But—”

  “It’s your turn tonight, remember?”

  Staring at his erection, she licked her lips with blatant insinuation and said, “I know.”

  Mick laughed, a harsh, hoarse sound. She looked as if she wanted to make a feast of him, and that nearly cost him his control. “You are such a tease.” Then, with more command in his tone, he said, “I want you to finish stripping, then sit in the chair.”

  Startled, she cautiously stood and looked over her shoulder. The chair was piled with clothes, positioned in front of the window. Her bewildered gaze met his. “The chair?”

  “That’s right.” He looked at her breasts, straining against the lace. “Take off your bra. I want to see your nipples.”

  She glanced again at that straight-backed, hard-seated chair. A shiver ran through her before she reached behind herself to unhook her bra. The position thrust her breasts out more. Mick hardened his resolve, doing his best to remain unaffected by the luscious sight of her. Looking at him, Delilah dropped the bra. Her breasts rose and fell with her accelerated breathing.

  “Now the panties,” he said, feeling sweat dampen his back and shoulders. His hands shook with the need to touch her, but instead he went to the chair and removed the clothes, dropping them onto the floor. He turned to face Delilah—and she was breathtakingly naked.

  As if she was overwhelmed, her head hung slightly forward, her hair shielding her expression. Her long legs were pressed together, her knees locked. Her hands flexed, opening and closing in small, nervous movements.

  Mick was caught between wanting to stand there and look at her forever, and needing to be inside her now, this very instant.

  Her nipples had flushed a dark rose, puckered tight. The black curls between her thighs looked silky, shielding her secrets.

  “Don’t be shy with me, Delilah.”

  Her head lifted, their gazes clashed. “I want to throw you down on the carpet. I want to strip your jeans off you and taste you again.” She licked her lips, panting. “I don’t understand it, but I’m not shy with you at all. I just want you. A lot.”

  Mick held out his hand. “Then come here. Let me help you.”

  She strode to him, her small breasts jiggling, her silky dark hair swaying. He caught her and held her away, but tipped up her chin so that she looked at him. “I want you to sit in that chair and let me pleasure you.”

  She blinked hard and a slightly worried frown pulled at her brow. “Couldn’t we just—”

  “No.” Mick moved her to the chair and urged her onto the hard seat. He smiled at the way she sat so straight and proper, her spine erect, her knees together and her hands in her lap. But not for long.

  Going down on one knee, he sat back on his haunches. “Open your legs as wide as you can, Delilah.”

  Her shoulders stiffened and color rushed into her face. “What are you going to do?” she asked, both breathless and excited.

  “I’m going to kiss you.” He glanced at her face, then back to her sex. “Here.” Pressing his fingers between her thighs, he cupped her in his warm palm and felt her spontaneous jerk. Though she was tense, her breathing suspended, he could feel her, soft and wet, just as she’d said.

  Shifting slightly, he stroked her, his fingertips opening her more, touching her distended clitoris. “Relax for me,” he murmured.

  Instinctively, she curled forward before catching herself and, with some effort, leaned back in the chair. She took several deep breaths, and her thighs went limp, yielding to him as he pressed her legs wide. “Scoot to the edge of the seat.”

  Her head tipped back and her eyes closed. He saw her throat move as she swallowed audibly. “Mick, I feel...exposed.”

  “You are exposed,” he whispered, watching as she slid forward in a delectable sprawl. “I wish I had two good arms right now so I could touch you everywhere.”

  Her eyes snapped open. “You’re not hurting, are you?”

  “Shh. I’m fine.” He moved between her thighs and leaned forward to kiss her mouth, taking his time, enjoying her while he breathed in the spicy scent of her arousal. She curled her fingers around his upper arms and held on, making no move to push him away.

  He could feel her impatience and drove her as far as he could, wanting her to remember this night forever. When she couldn’t stop squirming beneath him, he cuddled her breast in his left hand. He wanted to hold both breasts, but his right arm and shoulder felt numb with pain.

  He teased her nipple, stroking with his thumb and carefully tugging until her back arched. “Give me your other breast.”

  Her eyes slowly opened. “What?”

  “I want you in my mouth.”

  Understanding dawned and her look turned equally hot and gentle. She cupped her breast and raised it high. At the same time her other hand went to the back of his head and brought him forward.

  At the sight of her offering herself so sweetly, Mick growled. He kissed her softly at first, plucking with his lips, lapping with his tongue. She moaned, pressing herself into him, and he suckled greedily, unable to get enough of her taste, her incredible scent. Delilah moaned and writhed and managed to raise herself enough to rub against the fly of his jeans.

  Mick cursed the injury that kept him from taking her in all the ways he wanted.

  “Mick!” She cried out, straining against him.

  It was too much. He moved back and opened her legs even more. Her pink flesh glistened, wet and ready, and he leaned forward to taste her deeply, his left hand curving around her bottom and holding her still.

  Delilah raised her hands and covered her own breasts, crying, moving with his mouth. He loved the taste of her, so hot and sweet. He pressed his tongue into her, slow and deep, then stabbed with quick motions, swirled and licked and teased, and when he knew she was near, when he felt the tremors going through her slender thighs, her belly, he caught her clitoris and drew on her gently.

  Her contractions were so strong she nearly escaped him. Fingers biting deep into her soft ass, he held her close and did his best to block the pain of his injury, enhanced by her thrashing.

  With one long, last, shuddering moan, she stilled. Her breathing remained ragged, loud, and she seemed boneless in the narrow chair, her long limbs sprawled for him, around him. Her hands dropped to her sides.

  Shaken, Mick put his good arm behind her and rested his face on her belly. Though he stayed perfectly still, which eased his physical aches, his mind still reeled and his emotions rioted.

  Damn, he thought. This level of connection was more than he’d expected, more than he’d even known existed.

  It scared him spitless, because he wasn’t a hundred percent sure he could trust in it, in her. He just knew he wanted her now, and he couldn’t bear the thought of any other man with her like this.

  His arm tightened and he forced himself to say lightly, “Y
ou okay, sweetheart?”

  “Maybe.”

  He raised up to smile at her. “The taste of you is enough to make me insane.”

  Her eyes remained closed, but she smiled. She took several deep breaths to calm her racing heart and said, “Know what I’m thinking?”

  He lightly kissed her belly button, then nuzzled the soft skin of her stomach. “Vague, soft, happy thoughts, I hope.”

  “I’m thinking I want you inside me.”

  Mick clenched his jaw. He wanted to be inside her, but he didn’t see how he could. Much as he hated to admit it, he wasn’t invincible. His arm hurt like a son of a bitch, more so with every breath.

  Her position in the chair had taken a lot of the physical stress off his arm and shoulder, but her soft moans had caused his muscles to tighten, to flex, and now his pain felt very real.

  Delilah sat up. She cupped his face in her hands and said, “Did I tell you I took riding lessons?”

  His shoulder screamed a warning, but his erection was more than willing to listen. “On a wild stallion, no doubt?”

  Her smile was still softened by her climax. “No. As a little girl, my parents gave me riding lessons. C’mon.” She pushed at him gently until he moved back and gave her room to stand. She reached a hand down to him, and with a laugh, Mick came to his feet.

  “First,” she said, “a pain pill for you. And no arguing. I promise to make it worth your while.”

  Mick pulled her up short. “You don’t have to do this, sweetheart.”

  “But I want to.” Her expression clearly showed her confusion. “I’m not doing you a favor by making love to you. What you just did...it was so wonderful. I had no idea.”

  Mick wanted to know which part had surprised her, but he kept quiet.

  “The only thing is that now I feel empty.” She flattened her hands on his chest and stared up at him. “I meant it when I said I want you inside me.”

  Holding her gaze, he slid his hand down her belly. “My fingers would probably do,” he said, and matching actions to words, he pressed two fingers deep inside her.

  “Oh, God.” Still sensitive from her climax, she dropped her head forward and curled her hands, clutching at him. They both breathed hard. “That’s...that’s wonderful,” she whispered, delighting him with her honesty, her openness.

  Her hand moved down his body and curled around his hard-on.

  Mick had to fight to keep from coming the second she touched him. He felt primed to the max, and her hand was so soft and feminine. “Delilah,” he warned, closing both hands around her shoulders.

  “This,” she whispered in a sultry voice that coasted over him like rough velvet, “will feel even better.”

  He had to laugh, though it sounded more like an agonized groan.

  She released him, patted his butt and said, “Now quit trying to distract me.” Taking his hand again, she led him toward the kitchen, where she kept the pain pills. “I have the feeling you like to control everyone and everything, but I’ve been on my own too long for that nonsense.”

  She wasn’t looking at him, so it felt safe to smile. She was the most endearing woman he’d ever met.

  Her insight was also uncanny. It was true he liked to have control, but more than that was the fact he wanted to take care of her, protect her. He’d never even come close to feeling that with any woman other than Angel, and then it had been a clear-cut feeling. They’d both been going through bad times and had quickly learned to trust each other, to help each other. They were friends and there’d been no confusing possessiveness or lust or this irrational need to make her a part of him, to somehow meld her body and soul with his own.

  He loved Angel, just as he loved Dane and their children, and by extension Alec and Celia and Tucker. He’d protect any one of them with his life, but that instinct had never been put to the test. Dane and Alec were more than capable of taking care of their own, so Mick’s sense of protectiveness was blunted by their presence.

  Not so with Delilah. There was nothing and no one to soften the raw edge of volatile emotions consuming him.

  He knew it was too much, too strong and overwhelming. It put him at risk, a risk he’d never faced before because he’d never met a woman who hit him so hard on a gut level.

  He had absolutely no idea how to deal with her.

  She stopped beside the kitchen counter, unmindful of her nudity, although Mick relished the sight of her under the bright fluorescent lights. While she filled a glass with water, he looked her over. Her shiny dark hair was mussed, half hanging over her brow, framing those incredible, bright blue eyes. Her lips were still slightly reddened from her climax, her cheeks still flushed.

  Her nipples still tight.

  He sucked in a breath and accepted the pill she handed him, tossing it back and washing it down with the entire glass of cold water. Delilah stepped behind him and peered at his shoulder.

  “I think we should change the bandage.”

  He didn’t want her taking care of him, and turned to face her. “It’s fine.”

  She propped her hands on her slim hips and frowned up at him. He’d never had a naked woman remonstrate with him before. It put a new slant on things.

  “I’m changing your bandage, Mick.” When he started to speak, she interrupted, saying, “It’s early yet and I have a feeling you won’t be falling asleep despite the pain pill.”

  “God, I hope not.” He still smarted over the fact that he’d fallen asleep on her earlier.

  “Then that means, being as you’re so determined and you refuse to listen to common sense or a doctor’s orders, we’ll be making love for some time yet. You need to be comfortable and relaxed so that you don’t hurt yourself.”

  He gave her a lazy smile, eyeing the glossy dark curls over her mound and the long length of her legs, now braced apart as if for battle. “Relaxed, huh? You think your lovemaking is so boring I’ll be able to just sit back and yawn?”

  Her eyes got heavy, her smile wicked. “I think you need to let me handle things. It’ll be a novel experience for you. I’ll be gentle...but thorough. I promise.”

  He must be getting used to her, Mick thought, because her boldness didn’t shock him at all, it just fired his lust. He shook his head, but heard himself say, “All right.”

  Her soft smile broke into a triumphant grin and she turned, giving him a view of her saucy behind as she marched away. Crooking one finger, she called back to him, “Come along, now. I’ll see to everything.”

  He was in so deep he could barely breathe, and strangely enough, he didn’t give a damn. Everything would work out, he’d see to it.

  Later.

  * * *

  Del couldn’t remember ever having so much fun. Mick was astounding, giving over to her and trusting her. At least as far as his body was concerned. His thoughts were still a secret, but she understood that. Her life wasn’t one she openly discussed, either. Not that it had been bad, only that it had been different, and not many people understood her or her choices.

  At the moment, she had Mick stretched out on his back, a pillow cushioning his head, his shoulder freshly bandaged. Together they had showered, touching and teasing anew, then taking turns drying each other. While she’d brushed her teeth, he’d commented on her body, complimenting her in the most outrageous ways.

  She returned the favor, savoring the sight of him naked at her sink, his razor and aftershave there as if they’d always been a part of her home, as if they, as well as he, belonged with her.

  He had an incredible physique, tall and strong and wholly masculine. While he brushed his teeth with amazing dexterity, considering he used his left hand, she watched the play of muscles in his shoulders and biceps. Still damp from the shower, his dark hair clung in curls to his nape and temples. Her blood raced at the beauty of him.

  There wasn’t a single flaw to his body—except for that obscene bullet wound.

  Her heart nearly broke at the sight of it, and without thinking, she’d moved
to kiss him above and below his stitches, where dark bruises marred his olive skin.

  His groan, one of mingled awareness and physical pleasure, encouraged her. He’d braced his hands on the sink and allowed her to do as she pleased—and she pleased quite a bit.

  After that, she’d spent a good fifteen minutes just touching him, caressing his aching muscles and hopefully massaging away some of the pain and stiffness from the injury.

  Even with his head dropped forward and his body totally relaxed, Mick still looked so powerful, so strong and capable. It made her stomach jumpy to know he wanted her, desired her.

  Had nearly died for her.

  He grew impatient with the subtle touches and teased, “Is it your plan to taunt me all night? Because I’m a hair away from taking control again.”

  She laughed at him, then squealed as he hurried her to the bed. She had to regain the upper hand so he didn’t do more damage to his injury, and it took her several minutes to convince him that she needed to wrap his shoulder again.

  He’d finally given in, but only because she let him touch her anywhere he wanted while she saw to that chore. It was apparent that, even though she lacked his physical beauty, Mick felt the same fascination for her body that she felt for his.

  Now he reclined in her bed, his eyes dark and hot, watching her as she leaned over to the nightstand and withdrew a condom.

  “I hate to sound unsophisticated,” she said, “but I’ve never put a rubber on a guy before. Tell me if I do it wrong.”

  He didn’t reply, merely watched her as she tore the small package open and reached for him. She felt the subtle clenching of his muscles, the heat rising off him in waves. She glanced at his jaw and found it locked hard.

  “Like this, right?” she asked, knowing she was pushing him, and enjoying it.

  “Good enough,” he growled, and his abdomen tensed as she slid the condom over the head of his penis and then midway down its length.

  Del surveyed her handiwork. “Not bad,” she announced, trying to drag out the anticipation as long as she could. It wasn’t easy; already her hands were shaking and a weakness seemed to have invaded her bones. Mick was thick and hot and silky in her hand.