Wicked Firsts

by Naughton, Elisabeth

  She sucked in a breath as a fist of hurt slugged her gut. Her gaze jerked to his.

  “And no,” he said, “that was not a reference to Cody, but you obviously took it as one. So we should start there. Tell me about him.”

  Shit. No. “Why?”

  “I just told you why. And if that wasn’t enough, Rio thinks that whatever happened with him could play into what might be a problem now.”

  She wrapped her arms around her waist and wandered to her small dining room table. With her back to Walker, she traced the edge of the inset tiles with one finger. “He was one of my guys. One of my team. He was killed when we took down a group of immigrants last year. Another group sent over by the Diablos. Another load of cocaine.”

  She closed her eyes on a shot of bone-deep pain as the senselessness of his death cut through her. She’d never been able to think of Cody without remembering the way his blue eyes had clawed to hold on to hers in those last seconds. Or the heaviness of his body in her arms after his soul had gone. Or the way his blood continued to run over Zoe’s arms for what seemed like forever after his heart had stopped beating.

  She opened her eyes to banish the images. Pressed her palms hard against the table and leaned her weight into it.

  “But Rio’s right,” she said. “I hadn’t thought about the Diablos wanting to get rid of me from that angle. Only from the angle of my team having been so successful against their cartel. We’ve been unstoppable since Cody’s death. We’ve been…obsessed, yes…” She shook her head. “But not reckless. Rio was wrong about that. I never risk my men’s safety. Never.”

  “But you risk your own.”

  Walker’s voice was deep and understanding and right behind her.

  “I never intend to. Things happen fast out there. I just…do my job the best way I know how.” But Rio and Taft had made her realize just how razor thin that line between duty and obsession had become. How easily her disregard for her own safety could become disregard for her men’s.

  His arms slid around her waist, his crisp hair tickling the patch of exposed skin across her belly. He leaned over her, pressed his chest to her back, his cheek to hers from behind.

  He felt so good. Like the swallow of hard liquor at the end of a hellish day, the way it burned through the chest and gut, promising blessed, mindless relief to all the haunting pain and trouble.

  “Now tell me,” he murmured in her ear, “what you remembered in the truck.”

  “Walker, I really need a little time—”

  “Stop calling me Walker when we’re alone. I like hearing you say my name.” He took the top of her ear between his teeth, then licked the edge all the way around, sending a shiver over her shoulder. “And tell me what you remembered in the truck, Zoe.”

  If his touch was the first swallow of hard liquor, his voice was the second and third. Sizzling and smooth and sliding into her veins.

  “I…was covered in mud after,” she said, curving her fingers over the edge of the table’s wooden sides and holding tight. “I had that meeting with Rio, so my guys processed Ortiz for me while I jumped in the shower and changed my uniform. But when I came out, he saw me, got all pissed off again…”

  Her mind stepped through the moves she’d made, but Walker was making her dizzy, like she’d downed one Tequila shooter too many.

  “He twisted away from the agent and lunged toward me. He was cuffed; there was no real threat. All I did was keep him from falling on his own face and slammed his chest into the cell bars. It all happened in split seconds. I can’t imagine he saw my nametag, but…” She knew she couldn’t take the chance. “I’m not waiting for Rio’s intel. I’m pulling myself off this.”

  She tried to straighten, but Taft tightened his arms.

  “You’d let go of the career opportunity you’ve been waiting for?” he asked, his voice edged with disbelief. “A major break against the cartel that killed one of your guys?”

  Whether Taft’s disbelief stemmed from his opinion of her as stupid or foolish, she couldn’t tell. And she didn’t care. She only had to live with her own decisions, and she couldn’t go back and make changes to that night Cody had been killed. But she could make changes now.

  “Nothing is as important to me as your safety.” She felt the truth of that deep in her heart. “There will always be another load of drugs. Another weapons deal. Another smuggler to run the border. Another dealer to take Cantos’s place. But there’s only one Taft Walker. I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize that.”

  He let out a breath and lowered his head, pressing his open mouth to the skin of her neck. Tingles spread across her shoulder, and Zoe’s body arched into the pleasure. Her butt rubbed a solid rod of heat. Taft growled low in his throat and bit down on her neck.

  “Taft…” Oh hell, that had come out give-me-more needy instead of it’s-time-to-stop regretful.

  One big, hot palm slid under the edge of her shirt and up the center of her abdomen. The other pushed long, strong fingers beneath the waistband of her jeans.

  “Fuck, Zoe,” he murmured against the back of her neck. “The way you move…makes me…crazy.” His tongue licked across her nape, then his mouth closed on the other side of her neck. “The way you walk,” he murmured, “the way you bite your lip…the way you toss your hair to one side…tuck it behind your ear…”

  The pressure of his teeth on her earlobe sent shards of pleasure slicing between her legs. She gasped. Her eyes opened. Her hand covered his where it snuck stealthily lower, his fingertips caressing the lace edge of her panties. He opened his fingers and took hers between them, dragging hers as he touched her.

  His other hand lowered to unfasten her belt, then moved back up her body, exploring her belly button, her ribs, the satin-covered curves of her breasts.

  With their joined hands, Taft made slow, searching circles lower and lower. Her sex surged with wetness. Her lips ached with the anticipation of his touch. The thought of Taft’s fingers on her made her breath catch. Made her hand tighten on his.

  “Easy, baby,” he whispered against her skin. “You’re too delicious to rush.”

  “Taft…I can’t do this. I want to. God, how I want to.” Her breathing quickened. “But I’ve had bad experiences trying to mix work and guys and—”

  “You’re right,” he murmured and slid his teeth along her neck. “You’re fired.”

  Her thoughts collided. “What?”

  “You’re fired. Now we don’t work together anymore.” He moved the hand at the middle of her abdomen to the side of her face and turned her head so she was looking up at him over her shoulder. “Because I have to have you. I have to touch you everywhere. I have to taste you. I have to be inside you. Explore you. It’s not a want anymore, Zoe. It’s what I need. And if you can’t mix guys and work, then fine, you’re fired.”

  He kissed her. Lips powerful, tongue hot. He tasted spicy and rich. And the ownership with which he took her mouth left her breathless.

  She twisted her head against his hand and pulled out of the kiss. “You can’t fire me,” she said, panting. “Besides, I already quit.”

  “Then there’s nothing to fight about.” He pulled her mouth back to his.

  Without the barriers standing between them, she let herself go. Let herself feel him and taste him and enjoy him. Just this once. It would be amazing. Unforgettable. Then over.

  No ties. No heartache. No emotion.

  She could go back to the border. He could go back to the shadows. Nothing but a memory.

  His kiss burned with raw emotion, white-hot desire, insatiable need. Zoe’s mind slipped away. She wrapped an arm back and around his head, pulling him into her with a sudden, urgent need to experience him. All of him.

  He released her face, pushed his hand under her shirt again, and slid his fingers beneath the front clasp of her bra. With one twist, the fabric opened, and Taft’s big hand supported the curve of her breast.

  She pulled a breath at the sudden, electric feel of
her skin tightening under his touch. Her nipple squeezed into a bud so tight she moaned with the thrill of it, and he hadn’t even brushed her with his fingertips yet.

  Her need had grown explosive within minutes of letting go of the intangible obstacles between them, within minutes of having his hands and mouth unrestrained on her. The thought of what this man would be capable of making her feel when they turned up the heat both frightened and thrilled Zoe.

  Her desperation poured into the kiss. But Zoe couldn’t get enough of the texture of his tongue, or the movement of his lips. She wanted to turn, climb up his body, wrap her legs around his hips, run her hands over his muscles…

  “Taft…” she murmured into his mouth, begging for something she couldn’t name. “Taft…Taft…”

  His mouth slipped to her throat, and he groaned, rocking his hips hard against her ass. The thrust pushed her hips forward and his hand deeper between her legs. And jolted Zoe right to the edge of ecstasy.

  Her body flooded with heat and pleasure. Insane frantic fuck-me-please sensations exploded in her sex and sent delicious teasing tendrils toward her ass, down her thighs and deep, deep into her belly.

  “Oh God, yes. Fuck, Taft. Yes…”

  He swore, then kicked her feet apart and ripped open her jeans. Then his hand was filling the space between her spread thighs. His big, hot, strong, blessed hand. Instantly adding the sizzle of relief to her peaking need.

  Which lasted exactly half a second.

  Because his fingers moved, sweeping over her swollen, slick lips. A sound strangled in Zoe’s throat. Her eyes fell closed as pleasure shot out from the center of her body and sank into every limb, every muscle.

  “God.” She wasn’t sure if the word came out of her mouth, but she tried. Because she didn’t want him to stop. She rocked and rolled her hips to the movement. Rubbing the hard line of his cock with her ass, wishing she could wait to feel him inside her but knowing she couldn’t. And the next second forgetting what she’d been wishing for because she had sheer perfection between her legs right now, doing things she couldn’t describe but that made her writhe and rock and thrust. Made her gasp and moan and want to beg if she could only breathe well enough to speak.

  “You’re so wet, Zoe. So soft,” he rasped near her ear as he bit down on her shoulder and added pressure with his fingers. A heady sensation of fullness, pressure, and heat flooded her pelvis and made her eyes roll back in her head. Made the muscles of her back contract and arch. “I love your body. Love the way you respond. Move with me, baby.”

  Zoe used her arms to rock her body into his touch. “Taft…”

  He bit her ear, then whispered, “I’m going to make you come, but we’re not done. Not even close. I’m only giving you relief. And prepping you for the next one. And the one after that. I’m going to keep going until you come so hard you scream.”

  Zoe whimpered. She opened her eyes, unable to believe the sound had come from her own throat. Then Taft pressed two of those thick, practiced fingers inside her, and Zoe couldn’t focus on anything but the way he filled her.

  Her eyes opened. Her breath siphoned into her lungs. Her stomach muscles clenched. She gripped the table until her hands went numb. Just when she was going to rock her hips, he pulled out—just a little—then pushed deeper.

  “Ah…” she cried, hovering so close to the edge of orgasm she could taste release on the back of her tongue. “Oh…oh…my God. Taft…”

  “Wait for it, baby…” he crooned, moving, touching places that set off mini-explosions deep inside her body until Zoe was ready to scream—just make me come, goddammit.

  And that’s when it hit. Like the crash of a wave she hadn’t known was coming, those magic hands probed all the perfect places again and again and again.

  Zoe shattered.

  The first slam hit so hard, she arched her back on a short, sharp scream, part surprise, part ecstasy. The following quakes were just as intense, and longer, the muscle-cramping, toe curling, lung-seizing type of orgasm. The type Zoe hadn’t had in far, far too long.

  “YOU ARE CRAZY HOT.” Taft's voice shook as he spoke. He kept his arm locked around Zoe's waist and supported himself with his hand flat on the table. She'd come so hard she'd damn near cut off the blood supply to his fingers. “I can't believe I'm still standing.”

  Zoe's body slowly lost strength as she relaxed. Taft drew her into him. Urgency focused his sex-crazed brain. He turned her toward him while lifting her at the same time.

  She locked her arms around his shoulders and tried to hug his hips with her thighs, but she was boneless. She pressed one hand against her head.

  “Whoa,” she said, then laughed softly. “Shouldn't move that fast with a lady after you've just forced all the blood away from her head, Walker.”

  He would have laughed-if his balls weren't turning blue.

  “Bedroom,” Taft said, his voice breathless and rough as if he'd been sprinting. “I wanna get inside you while you're still all hot and soft.”

  Her hazy green eyes paused on his face, and for a moment they just gazed at each other, as if seeing one another for the first time. Really seeing. With the recent rush of an orgasm fueling her body, she was stunning. Freaking incandescent. Her eyes shining. Her skin luminous.

  “I think,” she murmured, all ten fingers sliding through his hair from his neck to his crown. Tingles shot along his shoulders and gathered at the base of his spine. “That has to be the sexiest, most erotic thing a man has ever said to me.”

  His chest and groin swelled at the same time, but with completely different sensations.

  “Where. Is. The. Bedroom?” he asked, his teeth clenched against the need growing to maddening levels.

  “Top of the stairs,” she said before lowering her mouth to his throat and her hands to the buttons of his shirt.

  Taft turned and started for the stairs. She was light but solid. Fit. She was going to feel like a goddess beneath his hands. Like the devil in his mouth.

  By the time he'd reached the stairs, she'd released all but the few buttons tucked into his jeans and slipped her hand into the open space. Her palm pressed against his pec muscle, her fingers stretching to grip and feel. His skin tightened. Nipple hardened. All before she'd even moved her hand. Then her palm slid across his chest, down to his belly, and gripped the fabric, ripping it from his jeans.

  “You're rock hard, everywhere,” she groaned against his neck. “I can't wait to lick you all over.”

  The desire dripping from her words took the strength from Taft's legs. He managed to catch himself with a shoulder against the wall, but couldn't continue.

  “Zoe.” He grew edgy with the fear of humiliating himself. “I…”

  Whatever else he said wasn't coherent. Zoe had snuck her small hand into his jeans and under the waistband of his underwear and wrapped her fingers around his shaft.

  He dropped to his knees somewhere around the third stair, holding Zoe tight.

  She tilted her head and kissed him, her tongue tasting him with erotic detail. He had no idea when she'd unfastened his belt, button, or zipper, but his jeans were open and riding low enough for Zoe's hands to have full glorious roaming access.

  Her stroke make Taft's body jerk, then tremble. The searing pleasure was crippling. “Ah, fuck, Zoe…”

  “Condoms. Have any?”

  Taft opened his eyes. Barely. He was on his hands and knees, each on a different stair. Zoe lay beneath him on her back. How could that be comfortable?

  “Wallet,” he got out. “Zoe, stop…touching me and I'll…make it upstairs.”

  “Fuck getting upstairs,” she murmured in his ear as she pressed close to reach into his back pocket.

  Taft's arms shook so hard, he went down on his elbows. And found himself at Zoe's breasts. He bunched the shirt fabric until he found skin, then lowered his head and took one into his mouth on a moan of relief and need.

  Zoe fumbled with his wallet. “Taft…” Her complaint came out tight. Wh
en he sucked hard on the tip, she gripped his biceps and arched, head thrown back. A jumbled curse stuttered from her lips.

  “Condom,” he murmured before stroking her tender nipple with his tongue. “Get it.”

  The plunk of his wallet on the carpet, followed by the plunk-plunk-plunk of it falling down the stairs, filled Taft with dread. He dropped his forehead against her breast. Took a second to catch his breath.

  When he opened his eyes, dark ink on her skin caught his eye. Another tattoo snaking up her side. But he could barely think, let alone focus.

  “Tell me,” he said, preparing his mind for the bad news just in case, “you got the condom before you dropped the wallet.”

  Her chest rose and fell with quick breaths. “Clearly you think I'm an amateur in all areas, not just undercover.”

  He huffed a laugh. Before he could gather the wits, strength, or wherewithal to accept a change in the direction of this encounter, a ripping sound met his ear.

  Taft pushed up so fast his vision dimmed and his head floated. He recovered within seconds to find Zoe propped up on her elbows on a higher stair, a condom in one hand, beckoning him with a crooked finger.

  “Come closer, Agent Taft Walker.” Her eyes were heavy-lidded, her voice filled with sexy smoke, her hair wild and sliding over her shoulders. “I've got a bone to rub with you.”

  Taft's relief was so complete it was painful. He pushed himself up and rocked forward, stretching to press his mouth against hers.

  “Ta-”

  He cut off her words, swept his tongue into her mouth. Devoured her. She made a sound of surprise in her throat, then desire, and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding tight, kissing him back.

  He ruthlessly dragged off her jeans and panties at the same time, nearly taking her down a step in the process. He grabbed the condom from her, rolled it on with one hand, lifting her nearest thigh over his shoulder with the other.