Firestorm (Security Specialists International Book 6)

by Monette Michaels

  "Price? Are you okay?"

  He looked up at Tara who'd just entered the room and smiled. "Yeah."

  Tara turned on the two lamps on the table behind the couch, then came around and looked at him, a frown on her face. "You don't look okay. What's wrong?"

  He held out his hand. When she placed hers in it, he pulled her down onto the couch and gathered her close, his arm around her shoulders. Some of his tension lessened. She was alive. He could have lost her. He turned his head and nuzzled then kissed her ear.

  She turned into him. He caressed the side of her face, then held her still for his kiss. A gentle, life-affirming kiss. He treasured each second he spent with her.

  The past week had been a revelation; a look at what his future would be like with her. He liked everything about living with her—from the establishment of the mundane daily routines to learning what the other liked and disliked. He reveled in the freedom to touch and kiss her throughout the day and her returning his affection. He loved having her in his bed each night, safe and sound, lying so trustingly next to him and waking up to her beautiful face and her sweet scent. Even the increasing sexual tension between them had been okay. It had also been a lesson in frustration, but he wouldn't have changed anything.

  What bothered Price the most was there'd been no progress on eliminating the danger to Tara. Miller was still at large. Price's greatest fear was that Miller was hiring anyone and everyone to kill her while hanging back and laughing his ass off.

  Tara kept insisting it wasn't Miller behind the shootings; the man liked to do his own killing and his beef with Tara was personal. No, she’d decided whoever had shot at her that Saturday on SSI land and attacked Carmela's was probably someone who had issues with SSI and she just happened to be present. She had no clue why someone would target her cabin.

  Ren had agreed with Price that the target of the sniper attack, the sabotage and torching of her house, and the incident at Carmela's was Tara, and not one of SSI's enemies. His friend then had sided with Tara that Miller hadn't been behind any of those incidents. And Tara hadn't recognized any of the dead or the survivors.

  Which left them exactly nowhere.

  So for now, the motive behind all the attacks was a mystery. What a clusterfuck.

  All Price knew was that after all the years of searching for the woman who'd fill the hole in his heart, he damn sure wasn't losing her. All he could do now was stick close to Tara, be alert, and protect her. All of which had been easy since, other than her time in the chopper with DJ mapping SSI lands for clearing of brush and snags, she'd been in his house or elsewhere on Sanctuary, and never alone.

  "Price?" Tara covered his hand. "Talk to me."

  "I'm pissed that we still have no clue why those assholes shot up Carmela's."

  "Yeah, me too." Tara rubbed his thigh then left her hand there.

  He mentally groaned as his dick shot to attention. Hell, he should be used to it by now; it had been a frequent occurrence. His cock was like a sexual barometer; whenever Tara touched him, it rose. He'd deal with his hard-on later when Tara did her nightly steam shower. Because, God only knew, he couldn't trust himself to be anywhere near when she was naked. Maybe tonight, he'd take a long run or challenge Trey or Ren to a martial arts session. Cold showers had stopped working a day or so after she'd moved in.

  "The good news is," Tara continued, "Keely and her brother have been working on a program to map the attackers' relationships. Keely figures somewhere they've all crossed paths with a single person and that person is the one who had the motive for the shooting. She and Tweeter think they're making progress now that their algorithms have been fine-tuned and they have the data on all the dead attackers and the ones in jail." She snuggled against him and laid her head on his shoulder. "If anyone can figure out who's behind this, they can."

  "You're right." But he hated waiting. His neck itched, telling him something was coming, but he had no clue what had set off his biological early warning system.

  "What do you want to do this evening?" he asked. "It's cool out, but if we bundled up, we could go for a short run. Or we could head over to the Lodge and beat Scotty and Nancy at cards."

  Price had discovered Tara loved playing poker. They'd had several enjoyable evenings taking any and all comers to the cleaners at a penny a point. If they took their act to Vegas, they'd make a killing.

  "Why don't we stay in?" she suggested. "Just the two of us. Okay?"

  Tara's voice was low and sensual. His cock had now hardened to the point of pain. He shifted his hips a bit, hoping to ease the pressure of his jeans, which only made it worse. He'd survive, somehow. Maybe they could watch a movie, something with lots of shooting and no romance, and pop some corn over the fire.

  "Sounds good to me." He kissed her temple. Fuck, she tasted and smelled good.

  "Price?" Tara petted his chest. "Fee removed my stitches."

  His heart pounded and his cock jerked again. He angled his head and looked into her beautiful golden eyes. "And?"

  Could she hear the sexual tension in his voice?

  "My píítaa, you've been very patient. I'm healed enough for sex." She brushed her lips over his jawline. "Make love to me, please."

  His cock all but shouted halle-fucking-lujah and shot straight to locked-and-loaded.

  God, fucking get a hold of yourself, Teague.

  Because she was in no way ready for him to shove it in and shoot. He needed to build her arousal and take the edge off his, or he could hurt her by being too rough and too fast. Some foreplay would be good.

  Price pulled Tara onto his lap and took her lips with his. He already knew what made her sigh and move against him; the last week had been training for this moment. He teased her lips with his tongue until she gave him entry. When she opened, he slowly and deeply kissed her, his tongue reclaiming every bit of her mouth. As he wooed her with his lips and tongue, he cupped one breast and rubbed his thumb over the already hardened peak. She wore no bra and hadn't worn one inside his home since she moved in just over a week ago.

  Tara moaned as he alternately made love to her mouth with his tongue and the occasional nip on her lips. He moved his hand from her breast to cup her mound and then rubbed the heel of his hand over her clitoris. She inhaled sharply and covered his hand with hers, urging him to press and rub harder. Several times over the last week, she'd orgasmed from kissing and manual stimulation through her clothes alone.

  He fucking couldn't wait to see how much harder she'd come and how many times he could give her pleasure before reaching for his own. Because she'd come first, always, even if it killed him.

  When he had Tara moaning and writhing in his arms, Price pulled away.

  She clutched at his arm and whimpered.

  He gave her a reassuring smile. "Shh, I'm not stopping. We just need to take this to the bedroom." He couldn't help himself and nibbled on her swollen lips. "So, sweetheart, you need to get up. Go into our bedroom and take off all your clothes."

  Tara moaned and suckled on his lower lip, then nipped it with her teeth.

  "Firefly, don't tempt me," he begged. "Or I'll take you right here." He brushed kisses over her flushed cheeks.

  "Here's fine." Tara turned into his body and rubbed her breasts over his chest. "I ache. I need you now."

  "God baby, don't say that. I'd hurt you. We need to slow down." Trailing his tongue along her jawline and then outlining her ear, he finished in a growling tone, "So, go into our bedroom and get into bed. Naked." He touched his forehead to hers. "You've got to help me, Tara. Don't let me hurt you. Okay?"

  "Okay," she rubbed her nose over his, "but you could never hurt me, or any woman. It's not your nature."

  "Not intentionally," he agreed. "But I'm on a short fuse right now. And you're not just a woman, you're the woman I love."

  Tara's eyes lit up and flamed like a thousand suns. Tears slid down her cheeks as she smiled. "I love you, too, píítaa." She caressed the nape of his neck. "My eagle. My prot
ector. My love."

  He took her mouth and kissed her until her tongue tangled with his. Groaning, he pulled away once again. "You're going to marry me, my little firefly."

  "Yes." She placed his hand over her heart. "Feel my heart pounding?"

  He nodded.

  "That's all for you." She dragged his hand down her torso and slid it under the waistband of her sweat pants and in between her thighs. "Feel how hot and wet I am?"

  "Fuck, baby. You aren't helping me stay in control."

  Unable to resist the treasure under his hand, he slid a finger into her wetness. After a few flicks of his thumb over her clit and a few pumps of his finger into her tight opening, he pulled his hand out and brought the glistening fingers to his mouth and licked off every bit of her cream.

  "So fucking sweet. I want more." He helped her to stand and gave her butt a pat, "Go, now, before I take you on the floor."

  "I said I wouldn't mind." She peeked at him through her ridiculously long lashes.

  From his position on the couch, Price pulled her between his legs and braced his forehead on her abdomen where he could inhale her musk. "First time will be in our bed. Later, once you're used to my lovemaking and I'm sure you're fully recovered from the knife wound, then we'll try out other areas in the house."

  Tara cupped his chin and lifted his head. Her look was that of a warrior queen demanding her due. "In our bed, then. Now. Hurry."

  Then her gaze never leaving his, she backed away, dropped her sweat pants and pulled her t-shirt over her head. Now gloriously naked, she turned and walked away. Her long hair was a stream of raven-black silk down her back, just touching the top of her heart-shaped ass.

  Damn, she was a fucking goddess. And his.

  Shoving up from the couch, he made a short detour to the kitchen, stripped leaving his clothes where they dropped, and grabbed a bottle of wine, two glasses, and the rest of a cheese and fruit tray leftover from supper. Just in case they needed to refuel after they made love.

  * * * *

  Price loved her. He wanted to marry her. And wasn't that an amazing thing?

  Tara's heart was full with her love for him. He was her soul mate; the past week had proven that beyond any reasonable doubt. The life they'd shared since she moved in was wonderful and one she never wanted to lose.

  Crawling into his bed, she leaned against the headboard and pulled the sheet over her lower body. She smoothed her hand over his side of the bed and smiled. Picked up his pillow and inhaled his scent and sighed. She loved sleeping with Price. He made her feel safe, secure, and cherished.

  Each day, she woke up with his arms around her, holding her close. His good morning smile and kiss kick-started her day in a pleasant way. They'd spent those days, learning each other's likes and dislikes.

  Amazingly, they liked many of the same things—spicy foods, mystery novels, action movies, and running. They both were neat and disliked clutter. Price had no problems picking up after himself, unlike her brothers and her father. When she and Price ate meals at home, they divvied up the cooking duties. Having three sisters, he was thoroughly domesticated.

  Tara enjoyed the overall rhythm of life on Sanctuary. Now that Fee had released her for mild exercise, she was looking forward to running with Price and the other operatives and maybe even doing some martial arts training with them.

  But most of all she loved the nights and lying down next to him. For the first time in a long time, she no longer dreaded falling asleep, because Price was there. The nightmares that had plagued her after her ordeal with Miller still lingered, but they didn't seem so bad with Price there to soothe her back to sleep.

  The only flies in the ointment were her brothers. Even with them jumping fires all over the western U.S., they still managed to text and give her grief about her "living in sin" with Price. They'd get over it once she and Price decided on a wedding date. Like Price, she was still worried about who'd been behind both shooting attacks and the blowing up of her cabin. The motive, or motives, were still clear as mud. And, finally, Miller still hadn't made his presence known; but he was out there plotting and planning. She knew it.

  Tara couldn't worry about any of those things at the moment. Right now, she was more concerned she'd freeze on Price when he made love with her.

  Tara pulled the sheet up to cover her breasts as she hunched over. She was pathetic. She didn't want to freeze. Price's kisses and touches excited her. Whenever he touched her she got chill bumps and her pussy clenched. She loved him and was sexually attracted to him more than any man she'd ever been with.

  But intercourse was another issue, and it wasn't just about insertion. She'd had sex since Miller raped and abused her, but the men she'd chosen weren't like Price. They'd been house cats; Price was a tiger.

  Sex with Price promised to be all-consuming—hot, hungry, and possibly rough. And somewhere deep inside her, she wanted that—but only from him—yet her past kept rearing its ugly head.

  Price had been very careful to hide his sexual need since she moved in. His every touch and kiss smacked of self-restraint. He'd reined in all his dominant tendencies. But she sensed the roiling need in him to claim her in the most primal way. Saw it in the way he looked at her. And she went to sleep each night surrounded by the comforting sensations of his body heat, his citrus-musk scent, and his huge erection snugged up against her body.

  She wanted him, but was so damned scared she'd balk at the wrong moment—and hurt him.

  "Hey there." Price stood next to the bed. He'd stripped to his skin and held a tray of snacks. His erection jutted straight out from his body.

  If she hadn't been so nervous, she'd have grinned, and maybe teased him, about the picture he made—so sexy and totally adorable.

  "What's put that look on your face?" After placing the tray on the bedside table, he slid his hip onto the bed and sat. "Tara, if you're not ready—"

  "I want to be." She tracked the muscle delineation on his arm with a single finger. He was so strong, but always so gentle with her. "I was ready in the great room when I took my clothes off. Really."

  "I know." His lips twitched. "Scooch over."

  Tara moved to the middle of the bed and lay on her side facing him. The sheet slipped, exposing her breasts. She pulled the thin covering up to her collar bones.

  Price climbed onto the bed after she'd finally settled herself. He stayed on top of the sheet she used to protect herself. As if a thin sheet could stop him. She snorted and shook her head.

  "What was that about?" He swept some hair off her naked shoulder and then traced patterns on the exposed skin.

  "I was laughing at myself." She looked into his eyes which had turned midnight-dark with arousal. A quick glance confirmed he was still erect. Yet, he was holding himself back—for her. His control amazed her. His love for her amazed her. And she felt very undeserving. He could have anybody, women whose pasts were not mired in blood and nightmares. Why was he even with her?

  "Tara—" Price laid down on his side, facing her. He reached for her chin and held it in place with his finger and thumb. "What's going on in your head, sweetheart?"

  Truth now. He deserves the truth.

  "I'm scared. And awed that you can—" She covered the hand holding her face and brought it to her chest where her heart pounded. "—want me. That you can love me. I'm afraid you'll finally realize that I'm more damaged than I show the world. There are a lot less complicated women in the world." Tears blurred her vision and tension tightened her throat. "I'm such a coward some days. I thought all that baggage was behind me."

  "Let's get one thing clear. I don't want any other woman. I want you. I love you." He leaned in and gave her a kiss, then pulled a mere whisper away from her lips. "You're anything but a coward. I'm the one who's in awe, that of all the men in the world, you've chosen me. That you love me. And, Tara, sweetheart, I understand how trauma from the past can rise up and take over. It's happened to me in the past and probably will again. You'd help me deal with m
y nightmares when I have them, right?"

  "Of course." She brushed his lips with hers. "I'm sorry. I—"

  "Shh." He took her lips in a deeper kiss this time until she became lost in the sensations only he could arouse. When he broke off the kiss, he whispered against her lips. "You don't ever need to apologize for being honest with me. For telling me what you need or don't need. We'll deal with our baggage together." He rubbed his nose alongside of hers and then leaned back. "I need to hold you. I'm coming under the covers with you, okay?"

  Tara nodded. "I want to be held. I want you to help me get over this wussy-assed crap so I can be the woman you need."

  "Firefly, you are the woman I desire and want above all others. Never doubt that." He shifted off the bed.

  And she didn't doubt him. Well, her heart didn't. That organ recognized love when it saw it and returned it. Even her conscious mind recognized Price had meant every word he said and that she was it for him. It was her damn unconscious mind and the primitive part of her brain that still had to get with the program.

  But Price understood—and that was part of the reason she loved him with every breath in her body. He wasn't afraid of her strengths and he was accepting of her weaknesses. His strength, his patience, and his love would be what allowed her to have the life she'd always planned on—with an interesting career and a family.

  Price had already claimed her heart and mind, now she just needed to give him her body.

  Once he'd gotten under the covers, he laid on his back and turned his head to look at her. His expression was warm, encouraging, and so filled with love it gave her the courage to settle her head on his chest. She rested her hand over his heart. His pulse was steady and strong, just like him. She sighed and rubbed her cheek over his warm skin and inhaled. Already she felt better, stronger, just being with him, skin-to-skin.

  "Tell me how to help you." He kissed the top of her head. He stroked her shoulder and then continued on down her side. His hand was so warm against her nakedness. So gentle.

  Tell the man what you need. He's not Miller.

  She sniffled. A tear rolled down her cheek and onto his chest. She licked it away. He shuddered against her and his cock twitched under the sheet.