Running Wilde

by Tonya Burrows

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. It was all so overwhelming, the way she imagined drowning might feel—panic, then resignation, then a weird giddiness.

  He kissed her thoroughly. One moment, he was taking his time, nibbling at her lips, caressing her mouth with his tongue. And the next, he devoured her as if desperate for the taste of her.

  When they finally broke apart for air, he growled and went in for another kiss and another and another. “I hate that I want you.”

  “Then why do you keep kissing me?”

  He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back, but the harsh gesture was softened by the spark of pure lust in his blue eyes. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “Because I can’t fucking stop.”

  His next kiss was an attack, one she welcomed and returned with fervor as she pulled him closer and let him crowd her against the shower wall. Vaughn hated her for her lies, but he also wanted her—and that made him safe. His heart wasn’t involved, so she’d only hurt his pride when she finally escaped him and disappeared again. And she would eventually have to run again, despite her claims she was done. She’d never be able to stop. She wished she could make him understand that.

  But right now, this one time, she could use her body for her own pleasure. For once, sex wouldn’t have to be a survival tactic. She could pretend she was still Lark Warren and just be with the man who, against all odds, had managed to snag her heart.

  He lifted his lips off hers. “Let me wash you.”

  She nodded, unable to formulate words.

  He grabbed the tiny complimentary shampoo and squirted some in his hands, then rubbed it into her hair. Soap slid down her body in a caress almost as intimate as his hand. She shivered. He spread the bubbles over her shoulders, down her arms, and finally cupped her breasts in both hands. His eyes were blue fire as he watched her nipples peak under the caress of his thumbs. It was all so sexy, and she couldn’t stand still a moment longer—she had to touch him, too. She found the bottle of shampoo and used it on him, dragging her fingers through his dark, roguishly long hair. When she’d met him at Jude and Libby’s wedding, his hair had been short, cut similarly to his twin’s, but she liked it better long. It suited him.

  His cock twitched against her belly, demanding attention. She raked her nails down his chest and stomach to palm the straining length of him.

  He braced one hand on the wall behind her, pressed his forehead against hers, and pumped into her grip. “Fuck,” he groaned. “You keep doing that and I’m going to come all over you.”

  “So?”

  He grasped her wrist and made her stop. “I want inside you.”

  If she’d had any chance of resisting him, it disappeared with those words. “Yes.”

  “Turn around.”

  She did as he asked and heard the curtain rustle, felt him leave the shower for a second. She glanced over her shoulder as he returned, watched him take himself in hand and roll on a condom. Then he gripped her hip and drew her back toward him. He didn’t enter her, instead stroked her slit with the flared head of his cock in a teasing caress, penetrating just enough to drive her crazy. She wanted more of him and tilted her hips, pushing against him, trying to urge him deeper, but he squeezed her hip, stilling her.

  “Not yet,” he breathed in her ear.

  His chest felt hot against her back, and she trembled at the raspy words, so close to the edge of detonation. His fingers found her nipple and tugged gently. His teeth scraped along the back of her neck, sending shivers flowing down her spine and hardening her nipples further into tight little peaks.

  All the while, he rocked his hips, penetrating her shallowly, retreating. And when his hand continued its soapy slide down her front to find her clit, her entire body seemed to malfunction. Her knees collapsed, and his other hand still banded around her hip was the only reason she didn’t fall. She went blind and deaf and numb, all of her senses consumed with the tingling pleasure of the orgasm.

  “Brace your hands on the wall.” His voice was rough, raw, and she did as commanded, helpless to do anything else. He urged her legs wider with his knee, and then he was sliding inside her, filling her, stretching her.

  “Oh fuck, Sage.”

  Something snapped inside him then, and he lost control, unleashing the intensity in him that had once intimidated her. But now she wanted it, craved it. Vaughn never did things by half, and that included fucking. He hammered into her, wet flesh slapping flesh, until they were both screaming. He wrung another orgasm from her before he thrust into her once, twice more and groaned with his own release.

  Silence filled the shower stall, broken only by the water and their labored breathing. He folded his arms round her waist and rested his cheek against her spine as the water ran cold around them.

  Finally Vaughn straightened and shut off the shower. Sage faced him just in time to see his wince. His bruises were worse than hers, with a nasty looking one along the ribs of his left side.

  She started to ask if he was okay, but she bit the question back. He always got so growly when she asked that, and she didn’t want to ruin the moment.

  He cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her forehead. “I need my toothbrush. Want yours?”

  Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how desperately she wanted to brush her teeth. “Yes. Please.”

  He disposed of the condom, then left the bathroom and came back a moment later with his toothbrush and toothpaste. He handed her the toothbrush they’d picked up from the motel’s front desk. It was a flimsy plastic thing, but it’d do the trick.

  They stood together, side by side and both naked, brushing their teeth. It was jarringly intimate and ridiculous at the same time. She laughed. He glanced her way, mouth full of foam, eyebrow raised in question, which only made her laugh harder.

  Vaughn just shook his head at her and bent to spit out the toothpaste. When he straightened, he spotted her chain on the counter and picked it up. “What’s this?” He turned the pin over in his hand, then held it up and gave the chain a little swing in front of her nose. “You sold it, huh?”

  Heat climbed up the back of her neck, and she tried to snatch it, but he held it high over her head, away from her reach. “I didn’t want to give it back, okay?”

  “Okay.” He moved behind her and clasped the chain around her neck. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he studied their reflection in the mirror.

  She stared into the mirror, too. They both looked rough. Her hair was a giant knot she had no hope of untangling without the help of a bottle of conditioner, and the bruises across her torso stood out in sharp contrast against her pale skin. Vaughn’s wet hair clung to his forehead and more than a five o’clock shadow darkened his cheeks. They looked like feral mountain people, but there was no mistaking the glint of male satisfaction in his eyes as he straightened the pin and laid it flat between her breasts.

  “Keep it,” he said softly. “It looks better on you.”

  She raised a hand to it, traced the edge of the eagle’s wing. “What is it?”

  “My trident. It’s what all SEALs get when they graduate BUD/S.”

  A lump lodged hard in her throat. Being a SEAL meant the world to him, so this pin had to hold a special place in his heart. He’d chased her down for it, and now he wanted to give it to her? He couldn’t really mean that.

  “No.” She started to take the chain off, but he stopped her. “Vaughn, I can’t keep this.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “But…” Her heart was beating too hard. She pressed a hand over it to calm it, and the pin bit into her palm. “You chased me all the way to New Orleans to get it back.”

  He closed his hand over hers and lifted it until the chain dangled between their entwined fingers, light bouncing off the gold trident. He smiled at their reflection. “Vixen, if you think I tracked you down for a pin, you’re not nearly as smart as I’ve given you credit for. I want you to keep it.” He returned it
to its place between her breasts, then touched his lips to her shoulder, and planted kisses along the tendon of her neck. He nipped her earlobe. “I also want to make love to you while you wear it.”

  Everything female in her melted as his rough whisper sent shivers cascading down her spine. She turned to him, met his blue gaze, and saw nothing but intense sincerity in his eyes.

  He wasn’t feeding her a line—then again, she hadn’t really expected that from him. Vaughn didn’t do cheesy pick-up lines. He only opened his mouth when he had something to say, and then he only said exactly what was on his mind.

  And he wanted to make love to her.

  Make love.

  Sex had never been about love for her. At one time, years ago, she’d thought she’d been in love, but she’d been young and stupid and so easily fooled. Ever since, sex was never more than a physical itch to be scratched or a form of power or manipulation. Yes, sex could be fun. It could be dirty, even occasionally be sweet, but never more than that. And it could never, ever be about love.

  She wanted it to be more.

  Just this one time. With him.

  Vaughn cupped a hand around the back of her neck and drew her in close until their lips were nearly touching. His breath smelled of mint from his toothpaste, and she imagined if she lifted up on her toes and closed the distance between them, the taste would also be lingering on his lips.

  “Let’s go to bed,” he said, grazing his mouth over hers.

  “Yes.” She closed her eyes and sank into his kiss. “Make love to me, Vaughn.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Vaughn had never expected to hear those words from her. Even when he’d been in the hospital, doped up on pain meds, and had experienced some of the craziest lovesick dreams of his life, she’d never said those words.

  And now that she had, he was…

  Nervous.

  Which was just plain fucking stupid. He knew sex, considered himself good at it. He could read a woman’s body like a navigational chart, had made a study of it—and hers in particular. He knew how to make her scream and what made her come, but the moment she asked him to make love to her, all of that knowledge vanished. Forget the fact they’d just finished having sex not even twenty minutes ago. It was suddenly like he was a teenager again, fumbling around a woman’s body for the first time.

  His heart bounced around erratically as he led her into the bedroom. He sat her on the end of the bed and wordlessly knelt in front of her, gently parting her thighs with shaking hands. If he were going to make love to her, it would be with his mouth and then his body. He wanted to savor every second.

  She was already wet. He leaned in and tasted her with one long sweep of his tongue before focusing all of his attention on the little nub that always made her rocket. With a throaty moan, she fell back on the bed as her body bowed toward his mouth.

  “That’s it, vixen.” He licked his lips, then went in for another taste. “Come in my mouth.”

  “Oh…Vaughn!” His name was a half sob, half gasp. He reached up, found her hand clawing at the duvet, and entwined their fingers.

  “Yeah, I’m right here with you, vixen.” He kissed her thigh and slid two fingers into her, working them in and out while he went back to circling her clit with his tongue. He felt her coil tighter and tighter, her legs shaking, and he didn’t let up on his assault. And then it was like a cork popped, and all the tension drained out of her on a soft, sexy moan. He didn’t release her right away but continued his lazy exploration with his tongue until she was panting again.

  He was perfectly happy to stay there between her thighs, coaxing her to orgasm again and again with his mouth, but his own need for release was becoming painful, and he wanted inside her. He left her long enough to put a condom on, then returned to the bed and crawled up her body, trailing kisses along her soft skin as he went.

  He paused where his trident lay between her breasts, and the surge of primal satisfaction at seeing it there made him grin. “Definitely looks better on you. Right here, between these beauties.” He cupped her breasts, rasped his thumbs over her nipples.

  “Hey, SEAL.” She smiled down at him. “Get up here and kiss me.”

  “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.” He planted a kiss on the trident, then shoved himself up to take her mouth. She tasted faintly of toothpaste, but under that was a crisp tartness that was all her. He delved his fingers into her hair and took his time with the kiss, drinking her in while he positioned himself at her entrance.

  She yielded to him, but there was something different this time than all the other times before it. For once, she was completely open to him, body and soul, and he froze at the realization.

  She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him in closer so that every part of their bodies touched. “Don’t stop.”

  “Oh, vixen, you couldn’t pay me to.” He laced their hands together, pressed his forehead to hers, and rocked his hips.

  It was slow, soft, and more intimate than anything he’d experienced before. Just a quiet moment in their chaotic lives as they explored each other with their hands and mouths. When she orgasmed again, her body squeezed around his, and he was done. He shook and tensed with her as their orgasms peaked together, consumed them, and then faded.

  He relaxed on top of her, everything in him shaking from his release and the beauty of the connection they’d just shared. He felt raw, like his chest had been peeled wide open for her examination, and yet so relaxed he was already drifting toward sleep, using her breast as a pillow.

  Sage’s fingers twined into his hair, and the sensation was achingly familiar. She’d always played with his hair after sex, and he’d always liked it, had missed it after she left.

  He tightened his arms around her. He couldn’t let her leave again. It might break him if she did. “What’s your story, Sage? I wish you’d tell me.”

  Her hand paused halfway through his hair. Fuck. Why’d he have to go and open his trap? He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. It was just a wayward thought that his sex-dazed, half-asleep brain processed into actual words, and he shouldn’t have let his guard down enough to allow it to slip out. He fully expected her to clam up and pull away from him again…

  But she didn’t.

  Instead, she continued combing her fingers through his hair. “Once upon a time, I was sweet and innocent…” She tugged his hair hard enough that he either had to look at her or risk a bald spot. She smirked. “But then shit happened.”

  A burst of laughter escaped him. Damn, if that wasn’t a perfect summation of his own life. “C’mon. You were never sweet or innocent, vixen.”

  Sage rolled and straddled him, lightly scraping her nails down his chest. “I was so. I wore pigtails and everything. A regular Catholic schoolgirl.”

  “Yeah?” He cupped her gorgeous ass in both hands and squeezed. “I’d love to see that.”

  “Play your cards right and maybe you will.” She leaned over and grazed her lips across his, then sat upright again when her stomach grumbled loudly enough that he could hear it. She climbed off him. “But right now, I need pizza.”

  He propped himself up on one arm and watched her, gloriously naked and unconcerned about it, as she rummaged through the nightstand drawer for the requisite binder of take-out menus found in every motel. “I forgot about your insatiable appetite for after-sex pizza.”

  She gave him a look of feigned outrage. “After-sex pizza was our tradition. How could you forget?”

  He hadn’t really. Last fall, during the week they’d spent snowed in together, they’d subsided solely on sex and frozen pizzas. He hadn’t been able to eat a slice since without thinking of her.

  “I’ll order. Go in and get cleaned up.” He got off the bed and took the binder from her. “The usual?”

  Her smile said she knew he’d been lying about forgetting, but she didn’t call him out on it. “Extra pepperoni.” She started toward the bathroom but swung back around. “Vaughn?” She waited until he gazed up from the bi
nder. “You were never going to turn me over to the police, were you?”

  No point in carrying on that ruse. It had been paper-thin to start, and now it was all but transparent. He closed the binder and met her gaze. “No, that was never my plan.”

  Relief filled her eyes, but she still sank her teeth worriedly into her bottom lip. “So what is your plan?”

  At this point, he had no fucking clue. “Let’s take today for ourselves, and tomorrow we’ll figure everything else out.”

  She clasped his trident in one hand, then released it after a second and nodded. “Okay.” She drew a breath. “Okay.” Then she grinned and motioned toward his hips. “You keeping that thing as a souvenir or what?”

  He gazed down. Ah, hell. Had he really just had an entire conversation with a condom drooping off his cock? He’d been so wrapped up in her he’d completely forgotten to deal with it. “Maybe. Unless you plan to use another one.”

  “Oh, I plan to use several more. You might want to order us a couple pizzas,” she added and disappeared into the bathroom.

  A thrill coursed through him—the exact kind of adrenaline high he usually got from a good cage-fighting match. But sparring with Sage was better than anything he ever got from the octagon. Better even than the rush of jumping out of a plane or creeping in behind enemy lines.

  Jesus, he’d missed her.

  And if he only had today with her, he was damn well going to make the most of it.

  …

  They spent the rest of the day and all night in bed, alternating between sleeping, eating cold pizza, and making love. It was definitely making love, too, nothing like the hard and fast, angry fuck in the front seat of the rental car. It reminded Sage of their time together before she left DC, when for a short while she’d felt like everything might just turn out okay, when she’d thought she might be done running and could finally be…well, not her old self—because that woman was long gone—but a better version.

  That was the problem with being with Vaughn. She’d always felt comfortable around him, like she didn’t have to wear one of her disguises. She didn’t have to be anyone she didn’t want to be.