“If you’ll get out of those clothes, we can do whatever you want,” she promised.
Reaching behind his head, he tugged the t-shirt he wore up and off, tossing it to the ground, never taking his eyes off the long, pale lines of her body, white against the black of her lingerie. Her breasts, round and full, lifted and fell with her breathing and while she watched him, her breathing increasing. Dylan watched with slumberous eyes as her nipples tightened, drawing into tight dark buds as he kicked off his shoes while he flipped open the buttons of his fly, shoving down his jeans and boxer-style briefs together, catching his socks on the way.
He went onto the bed as he straightened, crawling over to her, and catching her head in his hands, slanting his mouth across hers, plundering her mouth hungrily. Her tongue met his eagerly, greedily and she hummed in her throat as his hands slid over her back, tracing the line of her shoulders and spine.
That taste, that sweet, wild taste…honey and wine, he thought, groaning raggedly, he urged her down onto her back, feeling the soft press of her breasts as they flattened under his chest, the cushion of her tummy cradling his cock, and her legs, long sleekly muscled thighs coming up to wrap around his hips.
Dylan buried one hand in her hair, fisting it there and arching her head back, pressing a line of hot, stinging kisses down her neck, along the line of her collarbone, to her breasts. Capturing one swollen nipple in his mouth, he suckled deep and hard as her hands speared through the short curls at the nape of his neck, urging him on.
Dylan needed very little guidance, though.
He’d been dreaming of this for far too long.
Working his way down her body, he kissed the hollow of her navel as he hooked his hands in her panties and stripped them down her thighs, sliding his hands back up the black silk that hugged her thighs. Pressing his face against her cleft, he pierced her folds with his tongue and listened to her moan as she shattered, reveling in the taste of her, in her moans, and the fine trembling that overtook her limbs.
Working two fingers into her tight sheath, Dylan started to pump them in and out of her silken wet cleft, rolling his eyes up and staring up the length of her body as she started to sob out his name. Her hips lifted to meet his hand, she twisted, convulsing in his hands and shattering when he lifted up slightly, flicking his tongue around the hard little pearl nestled atop her slit.
While she was still quivering, he moved up her body, reaching over and snagging one of the condoms and tearing it open with his teeth as he wedged his hips between her thighs. Rising to his knees, he quickly rolled it on, staring down at her, hungrily, hardly able to believe he was here, with Kris. Covering her, he cupped her head in his hands, watching that lovely face as he probed her depths, pushing slowly inside. Her lids fluttered open and she moved her hands up his chest, sliding them behind his neck as she lifted her hips to meet his, angling them to take him deeper. “That was…mind-blowing.”
Grinning down at her, he said, “That was just the appetizer. Now we’ll start with the main course.” Lowering his mouth to hers, he kissed her, feasting on her mouth, shuddering with pleasure when she didn’t turn away from the taste of herself that lingered on his mouth. “You taste so damn good, like sex, and sin. I want more.”
Pulling out, he surged back inside her, angling his hips so that he rubbed over the bed of nerves buried deep inside her, rolling against her. The walls of her cleft caressed him tightly, silkily. She was so wet, so tight, perfect… “Damn it, Kris. You feel so good.” Surging back inside her again, Dylan gritted his teeth as climax started to rush forward already. “Damnation, I can’t make this last, baby. I’ve wanted you for too long.”
Moving higher on her body, Dylan took her mouth in a rough kiss, using his body so that he was riding against her clit as he thrust into her, he held back until she tightened around him, until he could feel the muscles in her belly spasming under his as her sheath milked his cock with her climax.
And then he started pounding into her, tearing his mouth away from hers and burying his face against her neck as she started to scream out his name as she came. He came with a ragged cry, his eyes going dark for the briefest moment before he sank down, resting his head between her breasts.
****
Kris was fairly certain, that if she tried, she could move her body.
But she wasn’t sure if she remembered how to try.
Breathing was natural. She didn’t have to think that part through. But moving her arms and legs, that was going to take some thinking. She was sure of it. As her breath shuddered in and out of her lungs, she curled her fingers into the damp, thick silk of Dylan’s hair and reveled in the sheer bliss of the moment.
Seven long years, she had wanted this.
Or had it been longer?
Sometimes, she felt like she had been born wanting this man. One large, calloused palm skimmed up her side and Kris’s skin quivered in reaction, her heart jumping, skipping a beat. “You smell fantastic,” he murmured softly, nuzzling the skin between her breasts, stroking his thumb across the rounded outer edge of her breast.
“Ummm,” Kris murmured. Her lips curled up in a cat’s smile. She couldn’t help it. She felt like her belly was full of cream, and she was down right smug and pleased with herself.
“If you don’t quit looking like that, I’m gonna slide back inside you and fuck you again,” he rasped, moving up and licking her nipple.
Opening her eyes, she felt heat scorch her belly, shoot through her veins at the look in his eyes. His lids were low over his eyes, hooded and shadowed, as he stared down at her, possessively, hungrily. Her thighs parted easily as he pushed his knee between her thighs, watching her.
Those eyes could see clear through your soul, Kris thought as he thrust deep, so deep, her heart echoed with it. Lifting up, she caught his face in her hands and tugged his mouth to hers, kissing him hungrily as he rocked against her, his sex moving so hard and deep inside her, his heartbeat pounding in tandem with her own.
“I want to hear you moan my name,” he muttered against her lips, pulling back a little, sliding one hand down to lift her thigh, angling it up over his hip. “I want to hear it on your lips as you come, and later, I’ll make you scream it.”
With a twist of his hips, he shifted his angle so that he was riding against her clit rough enough to bring shattered, broken moans to her lips with the first thrust, and she was gasping out his name with the second. She saw the gleam of triumph in his eyes as he pummeled into her as she went flying off into orgasm, her eyes blind, lungs screaming for air as he crushed his mouth to hers.
The food had to be heated up.
Of course, that was the good thing about lasagna. It reheated well. Which was why she chose that meal.
Curled against his chest, she heartily ate her own while Dylan eyed her with amused eyed. “Hungry?”
“I worked up an appetite,” she replied loftily.
His plate half-empty, he had set aside, watching her eat with obvious amusement. “Aren’t you hungry?”
Her body shivered as he huskily whispered, “I prefer desert.” His hand rested high on her thigh, moving up under the edge of his shirt and his lids lowered on his eyes as he studied the hardening of her nipples against the cloth.
Dylan was every bit a sexy a lover as she had imagined. Squirming on his lap, she jabbed him with her fork and muttered, “Stop it. I want to eat. I need my energy. I’m not as physically fit as you are.” Eying the muscles that shifted and played along his arms and shoulders, she licked her lips and shifted again. Not that it was a bad thing, mind you…she remembered the feel of his muscles, his body against her and wanted to whimper, strip off the shirt she had swiped from his closet and demand he do it all over again.
Forking another bite of lasagna into her mouth, Kris said, “So what did you do today? Any thing interesting?”
Dylan head fell back against the couch. “Yeah, scads. I finally accepted a damn job offer. Sucks, but I’m going insane right now.
”
“What is it? You’re not going back to Somerset and working with Shawn, are you?” she asked worriedly.
“No,” he said shortly, his mouth tensing. “I told him to shut the hell about it. I don’t need a fucking job out of sympathy. I could have stayed in the Army for that.”
“That wasn’t sympathy.” Kris set her plate and straddled his lap, staring into his eyes as she caught his face and forced him to look at her. “I don’t know much about whatever the Army offered you as a job, but I know you. Your intensity, your drive, your soul. You don’t know a damn thing about quit. Whatever they would have given you would have been because it was something they wanted and needed you to do.”
His mouth quirked up. “You sound like Jerry. Sure you haven’t met him?”
“I think I’d recall meeting another sexy ranger,” she purred, leaning down and sinking her teeth into his lower lip. “Now what is the job?”
“Paramedic. For now. I’m a trained medic and it’s something worthwhile at least. Wade suggested it while I was there over Memorial Day. It’s part time. I’m going to take some college classes for a while and try to find something that…fits.”
Smoothing her hands in soothing circles on his chest, Kris kissed him gently. “You’ll find it, Dylan. You will.”
Chapter Six
It found him. Six months later, as he spent the weekend back home with his family.
Camera bag slung over his bag, he moved through the woods, reveling the quiet, the peace, the cool quiet of the morning. Kris and Kacie were in St. Louis for a fantasy convention, pushing their new publishing company, but their wasn’t much pushing to do, because Kris had finally broken down and asked Nikki about writing a romance, only to discover Nikki had written a romantic fantasy a year or two earlier and just never finished it.
And viola, Kris had it in her hot little hands. Barnes and McNeel would frown upon the sweet little tale. But Escapade Publishing loved it. Needed it. Had to have.
So everybody was happy.
Well, Dylan wasn’t particularly happy. He was working a job he didn’t particularly care for, and right now, his woman was in St. Louis—but, that was life, wasn’t it?
At least he could walk without a limp now, and he could actually run a mile or so, and farther every time.
Right now, he was in the silence of the forest, walking on his own two legs, and he had a pretty peaceful day. Later on, he’d join his family for a burger before he headed back home. So what if he had a job that didn’t matter that much to him? It was a job that meant something to others—that ought to be enough for now.
And in a few days, he had Kris back in his bed.
And in a few more weeks…he was going to talk to her about them moving in together.
So, things shouldn’t be that bad for him.
Lifting the camera, he framed the doe that he saw ahead of him in it, capturing her in the light and shadow, grinning as he caught the perfect picture just before she scented him.
If he had taken the time, he could have washed the scent of civilization away. But not for some pictures, not for a morning of peace and quiet.
He turned to head down a different trail when something caught his attention. Something out of place. Broken branches, the trail badly disturbed, leaves and plant life off to the side badly messed up… a faint scent that didn’t belong. Moving off the trail, his booted feet stepping carefully, Dylan eyed the ground. It had been disturbed, badly, and pretty recently. Sniffing, he caught the odor of something foul.
Something dead.
Backtracking, he stepped back onto the trail and reached for his cell phone, calling nine-one-one. He was still standing there an hour later when the County Sheriff, his eyes blank as he eyed the Kline boy standing there, back in town and all grown up.
Dead animal, Dylan knew that was what he was thinking. But a dead animal didn’t make a path like that through the woods.
Turning his head, he met the cool blue eyes of Sheriff Alex Danelaw and nodded before turning and going back to studying the trail as he waited for the Sheriff to close the distance between them.
The body had just been deposited there sometime in the middle of the night. She’d been dead about two days and was starting to smell something awful. Dylan was waiting on the trail, out of the way, arms folded against his chest, when Danelaw called for him. He walked around the trail, placing his feet on rocks and tree branches, leaving no sign of his passing, more than most of the Sheriff’s men could say as they had trampled in and out.
“How did you know she was here?” Danelaw asked, eying the man in front of him.
“I smelled her.”
“You started up the hill and smelled her?” he asked, pulling out a pad, not taking notes, but doodling, as he watched the hazel eyed, rangy man in front of him.
“No. I never left the trail. I was out taking pictures, just walking around. I saw some broken branches, and smelled something off. The wind changed, for just a second, and I caught it.”
“It’s still cool out. And she’s not ripe enough yet. I had to be practically on top of her to smell her,” Danelaw said, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully.
Dylan lifted one brow. “You have too much civilization bred into you still. I was a Ranger in the Army, Sheriff. Your sense of smell can be unbelievably acute, if you let it.”
The Sheriff’s mouth firmed out. “I can’t believe you smelled her body from the trail a hundred yards away.”
Dylan’s nostrils flared and his eyes closed briefly as he sought block out all else. “You held somebody this morning, not long ago that wears perfume from Victoria’s Secret…Amber Romance. My sister loves it.”
The Sheriff’s eyes widened. Standing five feet away, the smell of death thick in the air, the man across from him had smelled the lotion he had rubbed into Shara’s body after she had climbed naked from the shower. After he had pushed her against the wall and covered her mouth, kissing her deeply and cursing the demons that wouldn’t let him tell him he loved her.
“It was that body cream.”
Dylan flashed a grin. “Probably why it’s still so strong. That stuff is thicker, has a better kick and clings to your clothes longer, it seems. I smelled the death, saw a body trail. And waited until you got here. I have no desire to wondering around a crime scene, Sheriff. None at all.”
The woman’s name was Ann Archer. She hadn’t been reported missing and from the looks of her body, she had also not died pleasantly. Somebody hadn’t liked her very much.
In fact, they had downright hated her.
Dylan’s mouth spasmed once in sympathy as he knelt beside the body alongside the Sheriff. “I’m not sure what you want me to look for, Danelaw. I’m not a cop, never been trained in forensics.”
“You’ve got eyes and a nose like I’ve never seen,” Alex said easily as the coroner’s people waited to bag up the body. “I’ve made my take. I’d like to get an idea of yours, GI Jones.”
Dylan slid the Sheriff a bland look before he studied her body. “She didn’t die easy.”
“Is death ever easy?”
“I’d take a quiet easy death in my sleep, or a bullet to my head over this. Hell, almost anything would be better than what she suffered. Whoever it was beat the life out of her. Slowly.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Healing bruises, new bruises. Old cuts, some already almost healed over. Then brand new ones with blood still drying around them. She was tied up, several times, different ways, and I’d say with different things, rope, a chain, I think.” Dylan’s mouth compressed to a flat, grim line. Lowering his head down, he studied her hands. “She was put someplace dirty, tried to get out. Her nails are broken down to the quick and her nail beds are bloody and infected, filthy. She was trapped, penned up like an animal.”
“Poor thing,” he mused, shaking his head.
“Ann wasn’t an easy woman to get along with, like to run her mouth about herself, her company, everything. She’d
tell you in a flat second how incredible everything about them was, and how you sucked…but then if you called her on it, she’d be telling you that wasn’t what she meant. But I don’t see anybody she knew professionally doing this. This was personal,” Alex decided, eyeing the numerous insults to her body.
“Very personal. Nobody deserves to die like that. Those lines of bruises on her back, I’ve been hit with a pipe before, that’s what those look like. I imagine some of her bones have been broken.” Rising, Dylan slid a hand through his hair, and closed his eyes. The image of her face, turned to the side, staring into forever, would haunt him. It was one thing, dealing with terrorists, and fighting somebody you knew was an enemy, seeing death that way, seeing what the death you knew they could bring.
It felt different, somehow, seeing it on his own homeland.
“I don’t know why they’d dump her here. Easy to find her,” Dylan mused, eyeing the hill. It was a little steep, but not much. And the trail was popular on weekends. “I smell rain on the air, but that only washes away physical evidence. It won’t hide the body.”
Alex glanced up at the sky. Clouds were already rolling in. “I know why. That rain is gonna be a downpour.” Jutting his chin the direction of the creek, he said, “We get that downpour in a few hours as the forecast predicts, this body would have been gone come morning. Water comes through there, fills up in here, and rushes to the creek and the creeks all through here flood and rush to the river. It could have been weeks or month before her body her was found.”
“You think the one who did it was planning on her not being found yet? Planning on reporting her missing later?” Dylan asked.
ALWAYS YOURS Page 10