His tongue and teeth were magic—as were his fingers, his cock, and the way he just knew how to touch her or move inside her at precisely the right moment. He’d made her scream his name too many times to count. He’d talked dirty to her when she’d tentatively asked him to. She hadn’t been sure if he would—or even if she would like it—but my God, the way her body clenched when he whispered that he was going to fuck her hard and fast. She’d shattered with little more incentive than those words and his body deep inside hers.
She was, she was discovering, adventurous and enthusiastic. It was such a revelation after the last several years that she wanted to call Tim and Lindsey and tell them to kiss her ass.
She wouldn’t, of course, because ladies did not act that way. She stifled a giggle when she thought of her beauty queen mother instructing her on proper etiquette and the ways in which a true lady behaved.
A true lady probably didn’t ride her lover’s cock with abandon or beg him to suck her nipples hard while she came either. Both of those were things that Georgeanne had done last night.
And she wasn’t sorry for it, either.
She got up and went into the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and took a very quick shower before slipping into a maxi dress and piling her hair on top of her head. When she went into the kitchen in search of coffee, Sam was there, his back to her, scrambling eggs and fixing toast, and her heart just sort of melted.
He was shirtless and he had a tribal tattoo that spread from his shoulder to the small of his back. She hadn’t noticed last night because she hadn’t exactly been looking there.
“Wow, that must have hurt,” she said.
He glanced at her, and her heart sort of skipped a little bit. He didn’t look like he was cutting himself away from her, but he didn’t look as open as he had in bed either. She knew what he was thinking about. Or she thought she knew.
In the broad light of day, he’d be thinking pretty hard about her family and how it was some kind of a betrayal to sleep with her. Which was ridiculous considering they were adults and this wasn’t the Middle Ages, but it was still so much like Sam to be concerned about her family. She wanted to kiss him senseless and smack him silly at the same time.
And then she wanted to wrap herself around him and never let go.
That thought gave her pause, because it was a pretty intense thought. Yeah, she’d been in love with him once, but she’d done a whole lot of living since then. She wasn’t the same naïve girl she used to be, and love wasn’t something she could ever approach with the same innocence she once had. She’d been burned by it too badly.
Besides, you couldn’t be in love with a man you’d barely spoken to in twelve years, even if he had given you pretty much the best sex of your life. She loved him as a friend. Always had, always would. But more? Not likely.
“Things worth having often hurt. And yeah, tattoos fucking hurt.”
“So why do it?”
He shrugged. “Because I wanted to.”
“Sounds like a good enough reason to me.”
He turned around and set a plate with eggs and toast on the counter in front of her. “You all about doing things because you want to do them now?”
He was mocking her, so she stuck her tongue out at him. She didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened or the way her pulse kicked up in response. “I’m a free spirit, Sam. I go where the wind blows me.”
“Where’s it blowing you today?”
She arched an eyebrow. “I think it’ll blow me to my laptop to grade papers. Then it’ll blow me outside for a look at the water, maybe a short walk. Then it’ll probably blow my clothes right off.”
“You planning to be inside or outside when that happens?”
She shrugged. “Depends, I guess.”
“On what?”
“On where you are in relation to me and how badly I need your cock inside me.”
He closed his eyes then and swallowed. “Georgie, when you say things like that…”
“Makes you hard, right?”
“Makes me fucking crazy. Makes me want things…”
“What kind of things?”
He turned away from her and poured some coffee. “Eat your eggs, Georgie.”
She forked some into her mouth and swallowed. “You’re a mess, Sam McKnight. But you sure are a hot mess.”
*
She was driving him crazy. Sam didn’t remember ever being so wound up over a woman in his life, though he knew that a large part of it was the fact this was Georgeanne Hayes and he’d decided a long time ago that she was off-limits to him. He was having a hard time remembering why he’d decided such a thing when he thought about the two of them in bed together, but then he remembered they were here in this cottage because she was in trouble and he was supposed to be protecting her. That made him remember why his kind of life wasn’t right for a woman like her.
She was a college professor and a friend, and she was still hurting from her divorce. How could he possibly be what she needed in her life right now? He shouldn’t have touched her last night—but he’d been unable to stop himself. She’d been so wounded and vulnerable, and he’d just wanted her to know that she was perfect in his eyes.
Tim Cash was a douchebag. How could he screw around on a woman like Georgie? He’d had everything and he’d fucked it up. Sam couldn’t imagine how Tim could have wanted another woman when he’d had Georgie in his bed.
Jesus. A part of Sam wanted to rewind the clock and take back everything that had happened last night, so he wouldn’t feel this damn guilt wrapping around his soul when he thought of explaining what he’d done to Rick.
“I’m worried about her, Sam. Can you check on her?”
“Sure thing, bro. While I’m at it, I’ll fuck her for good measure.”
Sam gritted his teeth. Yeah, like that’s what he’d say to her brother. But it’s how he felt. Like he’d betrayed their friendship in some way when he’d used Georgie for his own gratification.
Yet he still wanted to strip her down to her bare skin and lay her out on the nearest flat surface so he could touch and taste and feel his way to bliss one more time. She’d rocked his world last night, and not just because she said things that shocked him—because she was Georgie and she was supposed to be prim and proper—but also because she was so honest and real with her feelings. She believed in him, and that both terrified him and buoyed him at the same time.
Not many people in his life had ever believed in him. The Hayeses had, but he had to imagine they wouldn’t be pleased about him and Georgie. Not that there was a him and Georgie. Still, he knew what kind of life she was supposed to have, what kind of life they wanted her to come back to Texas for, and he had absolutely no place in it.
Georgie was meant to be lording it over the Junior League while tending her three perfect children, maintaining her McMansion in the right part of town, and making love to her happy husband every night.
Jesus, and wasn’t that just perfectly sexist of him? He tossed in an image of Georgie as a CEO, put the handsome and happy husband at home in an apron, and felt much better about the whole thing. Well, not better, but more politically correct anyway. So long as it ended with Georgie in Hopeful—or Dallas or Austin, maybe—everything would come out right.
“I expect you’re thinking about my family again,” she said from behind him.
He turned and leaned back against the counter, watching her eat. Her hair was piled on her head, exposing the slender column of her neck. Her creamy skin had marks that he’d put there, and it filled him with a male satisfaction that was hard to deny. They weren’t dark marks, or even very noticeable. But he knew.
“Hard not to. Rick asked me to check on you, not take you to bed and do dirty things to you.”
She grinned. “And how I loved those dirty things. You can be dirty with me anytime, handsome.”
Sam shook his head, though his heart rate kicked up just a bit. “What would your mother say if she heard you talk like tha
t?”
“Mother believes that a woman should know her mind—and demand what she wants out of life.”
“Somehow I doubt that extends to hot sweaty sex with tattooed soldiers.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “And how would you know? For all we are aware, she loves hot sweaty sex. And tattooed soldiers.”
Sam shook his head. “Do not put that image in my mind. Your mother is a fricking goddess who wears pearls to breakfast and gloves to garden parties.”
Georgie was laughing. “Trust me, I could barely say it. But it was funny.”
He couldn’t help but grin too. “Fine, we’ll leave it at that. But what do you want out of life, Georgie? Because your family seems to think you’re up here brooding about your divorce.”
“I am not brooding.” She lay her fork down on the edge of the plate. “I like it here. Or I did until yesterday. But I like what I do, and I really like what we did last night. I’d like more of that. For right now, that’s what I want.”
He was all about more of last night. He shouldn’t be, but he was. And he was damn glad to hear she wanted it too. But he had to be honest with her.
“You have to know that what we did last night was pretty spectacular to me too. It felt great, and I want more of the same. But, Georgie, we can’t do this if you’re thinking there’s more to it than sex.”
Because he had to be honest, even if it cost him another night in her arms.
She rolled her eyes. “Oh for God’s sake. I should have never told you I would have married you if you’d asked me twelve years ago. That was a fantasy, born of my youthful naiveté. I’m not that young or idealistic anymore. I’m capable of meaningless sex, Sam.”
Meaningless? Why didn’t he like that word?
“That’s good to know. Because I have a crazy job, G. I can be here one minute and gone the next, and no idea when I’ll be back again. You don’t want to be a part of that.”
“I’ll decide what I want to be a part of, thanks.” She picked up the fork again and finished the last bite of eggs. “But don’t worry that I’m trying to turn last night into happily ever after. I had my taste of that fantasy, with the big wedding and the till death do us part bit, and I know it doesn’t work out.”
For some reason, it saddened him to hear her say that. Georgie was supposed to be the optimistic one. But she’d been burned, and it couldn’t help but affect her.
Her phone rang then and she picked it up to glance at the screen. Then she groaned. “It’s Rick,” she said, looking up at him.
Sam felt a pinch in his chest. Maybe he shouldn’t, but he did.
“Hey,” she said, answering the phone brightly. Sam couldn’t stay and listen to her talk to her brother, so he grabbed his own phone and went outside on the back deck. The day was still early and the sun sparkled on the water. A blue heron stood in the shallows, one foot raised, so still it looked like a statue.
Sam dialed HOT. Kev MacDonald answered. “Hey, Knight Rider. Just planning to call you.”
His heart thumped. “Yeah? Got anything?”
“Kid’s pulled up some video surveillance from the Metro. We’d like to have Dr. Hayes have a look. There’s video of someone talking to Hamilton, but it’s grainy. There’s another shot, far better, of a face that looks like the man she described. But we need to be sure.”
“All right. Want me to bring her there?”
“That’s a negative. Richie’s bringing it out.”
It took Sam a moment to recall that Richie Rich was Matt Girard’s team name. So far, he’d been thinking of him as Captain Girard. In the regular Army, even in a Special Forces battalion like the Rangers, officers were a separate species that did not mix easily with the grunts. But HOT had a different structure, and team camaraderie was critical. While it was appropriate to yessir the officers all day long, it wasn’t inappropriate to refer to them by team names either. Matt Girard actively encouraged that kind of relationship with his team, but it would still take Sam some time to get used to thinking of his CO that way.
“We’ll be here. I think shuffleboard starts in an hour, so maybe in between activities we’ll find some time for videos.”
Kev laughed. “Damn, man, you’re gonna fit in here just fine. Call if you need anything.”
“Copy,” Sam said, smiling in spite of himself. He liked these guys a lot. He only hoped they were as good as they were supposed to be. If not, Georgie’s life was forfeit. And that was something he couldn’t let happen. With everything he had in him, he would fight for her, even if he had to risk his own life in the process.
He glanced into the house and saw her holding her cat and talking to it. He started to go back inside, but his phone rang again. Sam bit back a groan at the name on his screen. He had no choice but to answer.
*
When Sam came back inside, his expression was quietly grim. Georgeanne’s heart turned over.
“What’s happened?”
He only stared at her. “Rick just called.”
Georgeanne sighed. Dammit. “Rick needs to mind his own business.”
Sam scraped a hand over his head. “You told him you’d found a boyfriend and he could stop worrying about you. That you were having the best sex of your life and Tim was a pimple on the ass of life.”
Georgeanne only felt a mild sense of embarrassment at having her words repeated back to her. She stroked Belle’s soft fur and sighed. “I didn’t want him to worry. And the sex was pretty good, but don’t let it go to your head that I said that. It was a slight exaggeration for effect.”
He looked murderous. “Jesus, Georgie. You just don’t get it, do you? Your family is convinced you’re a princess and only the best will do. Not only that, but they’re also worried about their princess and this new man in her life when the old one was clearly so bad for her.”
Annoyance flared inside her. “Why do you care? I didn’t say a word about you.” She spread her hand to encompass the cottage. “Or about this. I said I met someone and the sex was great. I wanted Rick to get off my back, okay?”
“Yeah, but guess who wants me to check out this new boyfriend of yours?”
Georgeanne rolled her neck to pop out the kinks. “So check him out and give Rick a glowing report. What’s the problem?”
Sam stood there with his fists clutched at his side, his naked chest rippling with tattooed muscle, and a fierce expression on his face. Her core flooded with heat. Oh wow.
“The problem is that I have to lie. I’m expected to investigate the guy you’re sleeping with, who just so happens to be me.”
Georgeanne stood and walked over to him. She tilted her head back to meet his dark, glittering gaze. And then she put her hand on his pectoral, smoothing it down his abdomen and over the ridges of hard muscle. Her core was already wet.
“You aren’t Rick’s lackey, Sam. You have a job to do. Tell him you don’t have time and tell him I’m a grown woman. It’s as simple as that.”
“Simple?”
She was gratified to hear his voice had dropped a few notches. Oh how she felt those sensual tones deep in the heart of her.
“I’m not wearing any panties,” she whispered. “Doesn’t that make it all better?”
“Georgie,” he groaned. “You’re killing me here.”
She reached for his belt buckle. “Oooh, you feel that? The wind is blowing. Blowing my dress right off. Blowing you right where I want you.”
For a minute, she thought he was going to resist her, thought he would set her away and lecture her about her choices. But he didn’t. Instead, he gathered her dress in his fists and lifted it over her head.
“You really aren’t wearing panties.”
“Of course not. I wanted to be ready.”
He frowned as his fingers lightly touched the bruised skin of her hip. “I’d like to maim whoever did this to you.”
“Forget about them. Take care of me. I need you. Can’t you tell?”
He caressed her hot, wet mound, and she t
hrilled at the sound of satisfaction he made as her skin burned where he touched. She gasped when a finger ghosted over her clit.
“You’re naughty, G. I had no idea.”
She laughed softly. “I know you won’t believe this, Sam—but I didn’t know it either.” She looped her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer to him. “You make me that way.”
His teeth flashed white in his handsome face. “You’re a pretty hot mess yourself, you know that? And I fucking love it.”
He captured her lips, kissing her so deeply and passionately that she melted against him, clinging to him like she had not one ounce of strength left in her body.
His hands roamed over her, grabbed her ass and lifted her up so her head was higher than his. She tried to put her legs around him, but he stopped her, held her high with his arms wrapped beneath her bottom. He carried her like that to the nearest surface—the couch—and then sat her on the back of it. She opened her legs as he dropped to his knees in front of her.
And then he spread her open with his fingers and curled his tongue around her clit until her nipples were tight, aching points and her body was on the edge of explosion. But he didn’t let her finish that way.
Instead, when she was right there, right on the edge of bliss, he stood.
“Sam, I’m going to kill you,” she gasped.
He unzipped his jeans and freed his cock. “Yeah, no doubt about it, babe. You’re already killing me.”
He was so hard and beautiful that she wanted to take him in her mouth and feel him pulsing against her tongue. Instead, he sheathed himself in a condom he produced from somewhere—and then he plunged inside her.
Georgeanne flew apart instantly, her body rippling with her orgasm, a raw scream issuing from her throat as Sam pumped into her harder, drawing out her release in ways she’d never known were possible.
How did he do this to her body? How did he know right where to touch her? How did he know what she needed before she did?
With Tim, sex had been good—sometimes even spectacular. But it did not feel like this—like her entire body was on fire with sensation, like she would die if she didn’t have him inside her, stroking hard into her.
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