She nibbled on her lush lower lip, torturing him. “Yeah. But just this once.”
He was already up and across the room, shrugging out of his backpack. “Why?”
She sat down on the bed, stretching her arms out behind her and bracing her palms on the surface. The position lifted her breasts, causing the impressive swells to strain against the edge of her top. “Because I want to.”
His throat went dry and his hands itched to touch her. Rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans, he took a seat beside her. “I mean, why only once?”
“I have my reasons.”
Call him insane, but he was kind of reluctant. He’d been obsessing about this moment for the past four years. Dirty-dream sequences and Penthouse Forum scenarios aside, he’d always figured he’d have to talk her into it. “Is it because you’re ashamed to be seen with me?”
Her eyes softened. “No. I’d be proud to be your girl.”
“Then why—”
“Shh,” she said, putting her fingertip against his lips. “I don’t want to talk.”
He didn’t understand her, or even really believe her, but when she continued to touch his lips, tracing them lightly and staring at his mouth as if there was something interesting about it, all of the blood in his head went south, robbing him of the ability to think. And when she leaned toward him, brushing her thoroughly delicious lips over his completely unremarkable ones, any second thoughts he’d been entertaining fled.
By the way she plastered herself against him, clutching the front of his shirt, he was pretty sure she didn’t want to take it slow. He did, so he put his hands on her hips and held her back a little. Using one of the techniques she taught him, he tugged her lower lip into his mouth, sucking gently.
She made a low, urgent sound, somewhere between a growl and a moan, and shoved at his shoulders.
He released her immediately.
She pushed him down on the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. The proof of his arousal was right there, pulsing against her, and he knew she could feel it, because she rubbed herself along him, her dark eyes burning into his.
And as if that weren’t enough to send him over the edge, she lifted her shirt and tossed it aside.
“Oh my God,” he groaned. Her bra was black as sin and twice as sexy, her pinup model breasts threatening to spill over the lacy cups. Not sure if he wanted to stop her or encourage her to keep moving, he gripped her slim hips. “You’re killing me.”
She smiled and tugged on his T-shirt. He leaned forward, helping her take it off, and when his bare chest met her luscious breasts, he knew he’d died and gone to heaven.
His mouth sought hers, and he was no longer interested in, or capable of, taking it slow. He deepened the kiss and thrust his lower body against hers, intent on penetrating every part of her he could get access to. He wanted to touch every part of her, and taste it, too, so he reached for her breasts. “Oh, God,” he repeated, enraptured by the feel of all that soft, lace-encased flesh in his hands. Her nipples burned into the centers of his palms.
“Dylan,” she said, covering his hands with hers and squeezing harder.
He didn’t know how to take her bra off, and he wasn’t even going to try. Instead he touched his lips to her bare shoulder, delighting in the way she shivered, and nudged the silky black strap aside. It slipped down, hanging in a sexy loop on her upper arm. He pushed the other strap off her shoulder, but the cups of her bra stayed up.
He frowned, trying to make it disappear with his eyes.
With a breathy laugh, she threaded her fingers through his short hair and brought his mouth back to hers. They tangled together, tongues and hands and bodies. For a moment, he was lost in a round of frantic kissing and fervent groping, reveling in the heat of her mouth and the soft weight of her body flexing against his. Her bra didn’t disintegrate, but he was able to get the lacy cup down far enough that her nipple popped free. Mesmerized by the sight, he leaned forward and wet the dusky tip with his tongue.
She moaned, tightening her grip on his hair.
It hurt. And he loved it.
Panting, he pushed down the fabric covering her other nipple and repeated the action, looking for the same response. He got it. Moaning and hair-pulling.
Jesus God.
She smelled so … womanly, like rose-scented soap and freshly washed hair, and her skin was so … warm. He buried his face between her breasts and tightened his hands on her hips, praying for strength, patience, and longevity.
“Do you have a condom?” she asked, stroking the back of his neck.
He tried to reel his brain back in. It was a monumental task. “I think so,” he rasped. “I mean, yeah. It’s in my wallet.”
“Is it old?”
He blinked up at her. “A couple months, maybe.”
She sat back and held out her palm. “Let’s see it.”
He kept his wallet in his front pocket because he didn’t like sitting on it at school all day, so she had to lift up a little to give him access. Taking the square package out, he handed it to her, trying not to feel embarrassed about the no-frills, “one size fits all” option. Not to mention the straining erection it would soon cover. Right now his dick felt big enough to burst, but he wasn’t so warped he thought he needed Magnums.
She inspected the package and nodded, apparently satisfied that the latex hadn’t been disintegrating in his wallet for the past four years.
They were being responsible, and he was glad, but the short interruption had changed the dynamic between them. She nibbled at her lower lip, appearing shy and uncertain and far more innocent than her sexy body and provocative lingerie suggested.
She looked scared.
He knew exactly how she felt. “We don’t have to do this,” he said, clearing his throat. “I mean, I want to, obviously, but … I’d rather have you forever than just this once.”
To his bewilderment, tears filled her eyes. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his collarbone, her black hair spilling across his chest. “This is all I can give you, Dylan,” she whispered. “Make just this once last forever.”
No pressure, though.
Desperate not to disappoint her, even though he was confused by her behavior, he rolled her onto her back. He might not know anything about sex, and he would never be an expert on the female brain, but he knew what his own body was begging for. He covered her mouth with his and ground his hips against hers, trying to possess her through layers of denim.
Maddened by the restrictions, he ended the kiss. “Take off your pants.”
Her eyes darkened and her breath hitched. Holding his gaze, she undid the top button on her jeans. Unable to help himself, he looked down as she lowered her zipper, revealing a strip of silky-looking skin, the pathway to heaven.
Eager to see more, he moved to the side, giving her room to maneuver.
As if she was afraid she might chicken out, she shucked out of her jeans quickly. Her panties weren’t black, like her bra. Nor were they lace. They were hot pink and very sheer, showcasing the shadowy triangle between her legs.
Dylan almost swallowed his tongue. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Earlier today he’d barely escaped getting hauled off to jail. And now he was in bed with a girl who looked like a Playboy centerfold.
“Thank you, Jesus,” he breathed, beholding God’s most perfect creation.
She smiled a little but still seemed nervous, so he made no move to take off her panties. He did release the buttons on his fly, because his dick was aching, and then he went ahead and shoved down the front of his boxers, because—well, fuck it.
Her eyes widened and a faint blush crept over her cheeks, but when he stretched out on top of her, she welcomed him, twining her arms around his neck. He kissed her again and let his weight bear down on her, pressing right up against the front of those pretty pink panties.
Touching her with only one gossamer barrier between them was a heady experience, the most tantalizing of
his life, and it quickly proved too much for him. Bringing his penis into play this early had been a mistake. It wanted to tear through her panties and push inside her with no further preliminaries.
Groaning, he rolled away from her.
She murmured a protest. “I was enjoying that.”
He grimaced. “So was I.” Too much.
When he thought he had control over himself again, he hazarded another glance at her. She was panting lightly, her eyes closed and her nipples pebbled, her breasts erotically framed by black lace.
Maybe he could do something else she enjoyed.
He slid his palm along her inner thigh until he met the edge of her panties. Through the thin fabric, he could feel how hot she was. Moisture dampened his fingertips. Amazed by physiology, high on endorphins, he cupped her gently, learning the graceful swell of her pubic bone and the slight dip of her femininity. “Tell me how to touch you.”
Her eyes flew open.
“What do you like?”
“I—I don’t know.”
He was curious about her past sexual experiences, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment by asking her too many questions. Sweat broke out on his forehead, because he wanted to make it good for her and wasn’t sure how. Taking the plunge, he slipped his hand down the front of her panties, into wet curls and sleek heat.
Oh, fuck. He was going to come just from touching her. How did you tell a girl you couldn’t wait a second longer? “I can’t—”
“It’s okay.”
“I want to—”
“Yes.”
Heart racing, pumping more blood to his already raging hard-on, he pulled away from her, fumbling with the condom as she took off her panties. As he positioned himself over her, it occurred to him that he must be dreaming. He’d never had anything but tough luck, and here he was, getting lucky with the most beautiful girl in Tenaja Falls.
Angel was splayed beneath him, eyes like black jewels, breasts provocatively displayed, her body revealed to him. Offered to him. Open to him.
He wanted to savor the moment, but he couldn’t focus on anything but getting inside her. Lack of experience had him faltering a few times before he was there, sliding home inch by inch, going all the way. She felt … indescribable, like nothing he’d ever imagined.
“Oh, God,” he moaned, knowing he was lost.
He tried to make it last forever, he really did. But natural instinct took over and he could only thrust. She wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck, digging her fingernails into his shoulders and making sexy panting sounds in his ear. Every thing fell away but this moment, her body beneath his, his body inside hers. In a burst of heat and light and energy, he exploded.
Dylan wasn’t sure how long he lay there, sweating all over her, smothering her, before he returned to reality.
He lifted his head to look at her. She met his gaze levelly.
It struck him that the pleasure had been completely one-sided. She didn’t come. She didn’t even come close.
Head spinning, he heaved himself off her and stumbled into her bathroom to get rid of the condom. He avoided glancing in the mirror, knowing he was damp-haired and red-faced, while she lay on the bed, unruffled and unaffected.
What a loser he was! A two-pump chump.
Cursing silently, he buttoned his pants and went back out to her bedroom. She’d wrapped the edge of a blanket around herself and was studying him with timid eyes, appearing far from unaffected by their encounter.
“I’m sorry,” he said, feeling sick to his stomach. Sitting down on the bed beside her, he shoved his hand through his disheveled hair. “That was terrible. Worse than Chad.” To his chagrin, his eyes watered and his throat closed up.
“No,” she insisted, snuggling up behind him and resting her head on his bare shoulder. “It wasn’t terrible. I liked it.”
“All fifteen seconds?”
She smiled against his back. “Yes.”
Turning, he put his arms around her and held her for a while, desperate for a chance to make it up to her. Inexplicably, he did the opposite of redeeming himself, and like the miserable excuse for a man he was, he curled up beside her and fell asleep.
When Shay arrived at Dark Canyon, there was a package waiting for her on the front step.
The post office usually delivered during regular working hours, but she hadn’t been around much lately.
With a frown, she noticed there was no name or address on the top. Maybe Mike had left something for her.
She hadn’t noticed it during last night’s rendezvous.
Blushing, she tossed the box on the exam table inside and vowed to put Luke out of her mind. Although Mike had dropped in the day before, it wasn’t his job to take care of the minor duties running a wildlife preserve entailed, and she had a lot of work to do. After a wildfire, there were dozens of routine tasks to be performed, data to compile, tests to run.
Not to mention the procedures to follow in the event of a human fatality, most of which she was unfamiliar with. Right now Mike was handling the press and the state investigation, but Shay knew she’d be asked to take on some additional responsibilities.
The story of her life.
On some weekends she had extra staff, college kids and park rangers, but for the most part, Dark Canyon was a one-woman show. Her first order of business was to clean and inspect the tranquilizer guns she and Luke had inadvertently gotten wet. If they couldn’t be salvaged, she’d have to write up an extensive damage report.
Before tackling the tranquilizer guns, which would require more concentration than she was currently capable of, she went back to her office and logged on to her e-mail account, trying not to think about last night. Trying not to replay every hot, endless moment.
She’d returned home sexually satisfied but emotionally wrecked.
When Luke asked if she was still in love with Jesse, she was floored by the realization that she never had been. If anything, she’d loved him as a friend. She hadn’t continued their affair because he was irresistible; she’d done it because he was easy to resist. Like her father, Jesse was a restless dreamer, handsome and charming and very sweet when he wanted to be. His inability to remain faithful to one woman was actually part of his appeal. By tying herself to him, she’d kept her heart safe. No one could hurt her, not even Jesse, because she hadn’t invested anything in their relationship.
Then Luke Meza came along and shattered her defenses.
Making a sound of frustration, she clicked off the computer and jumped to her feet, slamming the chair against the desk. At least her little brother hadn’t done anything crazy lately. When she got home last night, he hadn’t been debauching the neighbor’s daughter in his bedroom. He’d been sound asleep.
Shay contemplated the mysterious package on the exam table, thinking she should swear off relationships with men for good. God knew she was a total failure at them.
Just as she was about to tear open the box, the office phone rang. “Dark Canyon State Preserve,” she answered, holding the receiver between her shoulder and her ear.
“It’s Mike.”
“Oh. Hi.” It was the most enthusiastic greeting she could manage. “What’s up?”
“There’s been some trouble on Los Coyotes this morning.”
“Really? What kind of trouble?”
“This is just between us, but they found Bull Ryan in his office. Dead.”
She gasped and placed a hand over the middle of her chest. “Heart attack?” she guessed, knowing Bull had watched his blood pressure.
“I haven’t seen him yet, and with the way the feds run things I doubt if I will, but I heard he was … scalped.”
“Scalped?” she repeated, shocked. “By what?”
“A person with a sharp knife, I imagine. And his scalp was lacerated, not cut completely off, but it looks bad, according to your sheriff.”
“Oh, Mike,” she breathed, saddened for him, and for everyone in the community. “I’m so sor
ry. Who would do such a thing?”
“I don’t know,” he said, sounding more forlorn than she’d ever heard him.
Her mind reeled, not with possibilities, but with repercussions. Tenaja Falls would be up in arms over this. Yesenia Montes’s accidental death had caused a stir, but Bull Ryan was a respected businessman. To find him scalped? The whole thing was bizarre.
Jesse would be devastated. And Dylan had just started his new job yesterday.
Shay felt a twinge of nerves. Her brother couldn’t have been on the construction site during the time of the attack. Could he?
“Be careful out there,” Mike warned. “The lion attack, the fire, and now this … it just doesn’t add up.”
“Of course,” she murmured.
“We’ve been working on tracking some untagged lions in the area,” he continued. “There aren’t a lot of big males within range, as far as we know, so we’ll just have to keep our fingers crossed.” He paused, collecting his thoughts. “How are you feeling?”
She supposed he meant her knee. “I’m fine.” The swelling was gone and the bruises were fading fast. “Ready to hike, climb, track, whatever.”
“Take it easy for a few days,” he advised gruffly.
It was nice to have someone fuss over her every once in a while. “Did you leave a box here?” she asked, wondering if it was a gift.
“Huh?”
“I found a small package out front. Is it yours?”
“No,” he replied. “I don’t know anything about it.”
“Hmm,” she said, eyeing the mysterious object.
Mike cleared his throat. “Listen, we had Hamlet cremated, and I thought you might like to do something with the remains. I mean, they’re yours, if you want them.”
Shay was touched by the gesture. “Yes,” she said, blinking rapidly. “Thank you. Really. It’s nice of you to offer.”
Mike mumbled that she was welcome and said a quick good-bye, as uncomfortable with sentimental interactions as she was.
She hung up the phone and ran her hand over the surface of the cardboard box, sniffling back a few tears. Maybe someone had dropped off a late birthday present. Maybe a secret admirer—Luke, her foolish heart ventured—had brought her a romantic gift.
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