by Megan Crane
It had never occurred to her that she could tell those stories and make them funny.
And maybe that, too, was the wine. Maybe she would wake up in the morning with a headache and that same old sense that she was an alien in a world of normal, well-adjusted people. But she found that hard to believe when Everly had made them all laugh at her story of riding a pink bike around in circles until she made herself dizzy and scraped up her own knees, then lied about it to her parents.
I told them I had to dodge an out-of-control driver and they called the police, Everly had confessed. Huh. Maybe that’s why I have police anxiety.
Then Bethan had told stories of trying to get one over on her very strict career-army father, who had reacted to the slightest infraction of his endless rules as if his family were a boot camp and he was its drill sergeant.
He made me drop and do fifty push-ups on the front lawn of my high school, Bethan had said in her dry way. In retrospect, the fact I couldn’t get a date to the prom isn’t really all that mysterious.
None of those stories was all that funny if Kate picked them apart. Just like her stories weren’t all that funny in their particulars. But there was something about telling them to two other women who hadn’t judged her or seemed to want anything from her, and then laughing about it all. Together. It felt like some kind of magic spell.
It felt retroactive, like the laughter had wound its way inside of her and changed her memories where she carried them. She wasn’t likely to forget anything that had happened to her. But now when she thought of it, she suspected she might also think about sitting at the kitchen table in Everly’s cabin, laughing until her cheeks hurt and her eyes felt damp.
If it was magic, she’d take it, she thought, as she walked the last little way toward her cabin. No matter how fanciful that might seem in the light of day.
Here, tonight, in the small hours of the endless Alaskan night, Kate didn’t have to worry about daylight.
For once, she could let herself be as fanciful as she liked. She could indulge herself. She could let herself stay something perilously close to happy, with no one the wiser.
Tomorrow she could gather herself into familiar pieces again. Tomorrow she could remember who she really was, a bit too grim and always too serious, out of step with the world. Tomorrow was soon enough.
“Tomorrow,” she muttered to herself.
Tonight she could let herself float a bit, whether it was magic or merlot. Tonight she could pretend she had it in her to be like other women for a change.
To be normal.
But when she got to her cabin and pushed her way inside into the warmth of it, she stopped dead.
Because Templeton was there, stretched out in the living room with a book like he belonged there, his big body dwarfing the six-foot couch. And his dark eyes glittering when he looked up at her, too wicked and too knowing all at once.
Kate felt more than warm then.
And the more layers she stripped off in the little entryway, the hotter and more flushed she became.
“Careful there, Trooper,” Templeton drawled, looking lazy and unbothered and entirely too delicious to be real. “You’re looking a little unsteady on your feet.”
Kate should have been furious that he’d invaded her privacy. She should have been outraged that he thought he could make himself at home like this. She should have ordered him to leave, and she meant to. She was sure she meant to.
But instead of opening her mouth and telling him to go away, the way she knew she should, she thought . . . magic.
Because whatever else he was, the man was magic.
And she was going to have all kinds of things to regret tomorrow, from her comments in the lodge that had required she offer an apology to that intimate friend time horror to telling anyone anything about herself—much less two people she hardly knew and one she’d never met before. She knew that as surely as she knew that red wine gave her a headache, sooner or later, no matter how good it tasted going down.
But some things were worth the price, whatever it was and whatever it took from her. Kate had learned that a long time ago.
And there and then, flushed hot and red down to her toes, she decided that Templeton Cross was one of them.
Eleven
Templeton had run through this scenario in his head a thousand times already. It was one of his favorites.
Rules or no rules.
Kate, flushed and looking at him like she wanted to eat him alive, here and now. Kate, walking toward him with nothing but a bright gleam of need in her eyes and a sway in her hips.
But his imagination, always vivid, wasn’t even close to the reality of his trooper stalking across the cabin floor to the sofa, where he sat like he didn’t have a care in the world when really, he thought it was possible he might die of sheer longing. His imagination hadn’t prepared him for the way she smiled at him, something he knew instantly he’d be replaying in his head forever.
And nothing could possibly have prepared him for Trooper Kate Holiday climbing on top of him and sliding her body. All. Over. His.
“Did I fall asleep?” Templeton asked, though his drawl sounded a whole lot less lazy than it usually did. And he was vaguely concerned that he was having a cardiac arrest. “Is this a dream?”
“Call it what you want,” Kate replied. Gruffly.
Like she was finding the reality of her body on his body as hard to handle as he was.
And Templeton found that he didn’t really have the words to call it anything at all, because she was settling against him. Stretching herself out along the length of him, making sure to rub a bit wherever she touched, and then propping herself up on her hands so she could look down at him.
Her skin was flushed, which he liked. There was a bright heat in her eyes that made every cell in his body go alert and awake. Aware.
And best of all, her mouth, generous, wide, and the faintest bit sulky tonight, was right there.
Templeton was so hard it hurt.
And that was before he processed the rest of it. Her torso flush against his, her strong thighs bracketing his hips and cradling him where he most wanted it.
It was definitely cardiac arrest, and he loved every second of it.
“Is this what a trooper looks like after a couple drinks?” Templeton asked. “Hallelujah.”
Kate’s eyes glittered, and not drunkenly. “Sure. Let’s call it the wine.”
She sounded almost angry, which didn’t make a lot of sense. But Templeton couldn’t say he cared that much. And his jubilant body cared even less than that. Especially when she bent her head, collapsed against him so he could feel the weight of her small breasts against his chest, and pressed her mouth to his.
She kissed him like she was desperate. Like this was all desperation.
Kate twined herself around him and moved her hips against his. And she kissed him, again and again, like her life depended on it.
Like they were both going to turn into stone any second and she needed to get as much of this in before it was all granite and regret.
Templeton wrapped his arms around her the way he had wanted to from the start. He reveled in the fierce way she angled her mouth against his, the sweet, hot glory of the way she rocked herself against him, and the feel of her—more solid than she looked—above him and astride him.
And Templeton had never considered himself a particularly good man. Good was the province of other men, whose hands were a lot cleaner than his had ever been.
He’d imagined this too many times. Too many and then more. And he liked the idea of his trooper desperate.
But for him. Not at him.
“Hey.”
He held her away from him, lifting her up off his body as he jackknifed into a sitting position and then deposited her beside him on the couch. She caught herself and s
tayed on her knees.
And he thought his halo was so damned bright it was practically high noon on the equator somewhere up in this cabin.
“What’s the problem?” Kate demanded.
“Is there a rush? A countdown of some kind? You seem to be in a hurry.”
Kate glared at him. “I’ll admit I didn’t see this coming. All that talk, and that’s all it was, wasn’t it? Talk.”
“I beg your pardon. Are you calling me a tease?”
“If the shoe fits, Templeton.”
He managed to keep from howling while his cardiac arrest kicked at him. He rubbed the hand he’d much rather put on her over his heart, like that might calm it down. And assured himself that was excitement, not emotion.
“Not at all. If you’re ready to go, we can go. I only want a little bit of clarity as to why you’re acting like we’re in a death race to the finish.”
Kate eyed him balefully from where she knelt beside him on the couch. “Are you critiquing my performance?”
Not for the first time tonight, Templeton found himself very nearly speechless. “It’s not a critique. But why do we need to rush?”
“My bad,” Kate said, but there was something dangerous in the way she tilted her head to one side. “That’s how I like it. Fast. Hard. I thought you could keep up. But if not, no problem.”
Templeton did not roar out his frustration, the way he wanted to do. Still, it was a close call. He laughed instead, loud and long, because it was almost the same thing.
“Now who’s the tease?” he asked her.
Kate was still kneeling, her cheeks particularly red and deliciously rosy everywhere else. She was wearing the kind of long-sleeved shirt runners wore, tightly fitted to her high, compact breasts, her trim waist, and the slight swell of her belly. And she kept her eyes on him in a way that didn’t require military training to know was dangerous.
Pure mayhem, in fact.
Kate didn’t say a word. Instead, she reached down to grab the hem of her shirt and peeled it off her body. Templeton’s mouth went dry. His head pounded, and there was that whole cardiac thing again. Definitely pure excitement. His tongue felt like someone else’s, and he couldn’t seem to use it the way he wanted.
And he was fairly certain Kate knew it, though she didn’t smile. Not quite.
Her eyes gleamed brighter, and there was a certain satisfaction to the set of her lips, but she only reached up and tugged the elastic out of her hair. She ran her other hand through the dark strands, sending the mess of it tumbling down over her shoulders. Then, still staring him straight in the face, she reached down and unclasped the front of the bra she was wearing, which looked like a sports bra but held her like lingerie. She peeled it off and tossed it aside with her shirt.
And it was always possible that Templeton really was asleep and happily dreaming all this. Because he couldn’t think of another reason Trooper Holiday would be kneeling before him in a log cabin in Fool’s Cove stripped to the waist.
Offering herself to him as only she could. Daring him to touch her.
And half-naked clearly wasn’t enough for her. Kate obviously had a much more significant level of torture in mind, because she flowed up to her feet and unzipped her pants.
Templeton, master of war zones, sat there frozen solid, staring at her while his heart performed mad gymnastics in his chest. And his blood pumped hot and wild.
And his sex did its level best to take matters into its own hands.
She stripped off her pants in a swift, easy movement, taking her socks with her.
Leaving her standing there before him wearing nothing but a bright pink pair of stretchy bikini panties, that satisfied curve to her mouth, and her dark hair flowing everywhere. Begging for him to get his hands in it. On her.
“What do you think?” Kate asked, her voice threaded through with amusement. Challenge. And more of that heat. “You still want to take it slow?”
And Templeton might have felt frozen solid for a moment there, but he wasn’t dead. Not yet. He reached up and hooked an arm around her hips, hauling her to him. She came willingly, even eagerly, flowing into his lap and settling herself astride him there, too.
Templeton wasn’t actually any kind of saint, so he indulged himself. He gripped her hair, holding her mouth right where he wanted it, and this time, he was the one who took charge.
Because it was about time.
He kissed her deep and long, dark and greedy. He licked his way into her mouth, and then toyed with her until she was panting against his lips. He wasn’t any kind of gentlemen, and he didn’t kiss like one.
He kissed her dirty. Over and over again.
Templeton had been dreaming of the taste of her, and he drowned himself in it now, liking that she tasted a little bit extra tonight. Like wine. Like need.
Like his.
She rocked herself against him, getting the softest part of her flush against his sex, and then rubbing herself against him with abandon. Reminding him that she was tough and strong, sleek and fit and fast.
He thought he might die, then and there.
But he didn’t.
Templeton pulled his mouth from hers, still gripping her thick, soft hair with one hard fist. He let the other hand roam, moving between them to test the weight of one perfect breast. And the proud nipple that stood between them, that he wanted very badly to pull into his mouth. But didn’t, somehow. He moved around to her back, stroking his way down the line of her spine, then cupping that sweet, muscular ass.
He liked her sleekness. He loved her strength.
And he knew he wasn’t likely to forget anytime soon the soft little noise of frustration she made as she writhed on him.
“Rush, rush, rush,” Templeton rumbled. And he could hardly believe he was about to do this. But here he was, doing it. “Is this how it normally works for you, Trooper? Let me guess. A few shots in a bar, a rush toward oblivion, and that’s it?”
“What do you mean, ‘that’s it’? What else is there?”
She sounded cranky and irritated, and Lord knew, he liked that, too.
“That’s barely an appetizer,” he told her. “And all this time you’ve been thinking it was a full meal? That explains a lot.”
Kate stiffened, and her eyes changed to something far more dangerous, but Templeton wasn’t afraid of her. Not when she was mostly naked, and he could feel how soft and hot she was against him with their bodies tight together, separated only by a few layers of their clothing.
“We can either do this or not,” Kate snapped. “It’s an offer that’s unlikely to be repeated. So if you’re not interested, terrific. You can go.”
“It’s not that I’m not interested.” And Templeton wasn’t a goddamned saint, so this was hard. Harder than she seemed to imagine while she sat on his lap and tempted him almost beyond endurance. “It’s that I’m too interested. You want to bang me like I’m some guy you picked up in a bar? I’m going to have to pass on that.”
“Oh my God,” Kate breathed. “Let me guess. Deep inside, you’re sweet and shy and mushy. You want intimacy. You want to make sweet love.” She didn’t actually gag at that, she only gave the impression of it, which wasn’t much better. “Too bad, Templeton. Because all I want to do is—”
“You don’t know what you want,” he told her, cutting her off. “But don’t worry, little trooper. I’m nothing if not a dedicated teacher.”
She started to roll her eyes, but Templeton stood and took her with him. He was still fully clothed, something he reminded himself of as he moved, because it was like armor. Or something. It was going to save one of them, anyway, and he had the distinct impression that it might be him.
He carried her into the bedroom and tossed her into the center of the bed.
“Finally,” Kate muttered. To the ceiling.
Because
she was ungrateful. Ornery. Sullen. Surly—and that was when she wasn’t acting the cool, controlled cop.
Templeton didn’t think he’d ever wanted someone this much in his life. Or ever would again. He needed to indulge that want, then move on before emotions got involved. He knew that.
But that wasn’t the point of this. Not right now.
The bed was nice and high, perfect for his purposes. He reached down and took hold of her, dragging her toward the edge of the mattress. Then he peeled those ridiculously, delightfully girlie panties off her legs.
And he wanted to linger. He wanted to take his sweet time exploring every inch of her, getting to know the variances in the way she tasted. There behind her ear. In the hollow between her breasts. At her waist, her navel, and every sweet inch of her long, strong legs.
He wanted to make a meal of her. But he was going to have to settle for dessert.
And notify the Vatican on his way out, because he was clearly signing himself up for instant canonization.
He bent down, keeping her legs apart with the width of his shoulders. He scooped his hands beneath her butt to hold her in place, then lifted her up like she was on a platter.
Her breath went out of her with a gratifying stuttering sound that was sweet music as far as he was concerned. She lifted herself up on her elbows and scowled at him down the length of her own gorgeous body.
“Oh no,” she said. Sounding even crankier than before. “I don’t do that.”
“Do what? You don’t have to do anything but lie back and continue rolling your eyes at the ceiling.”
“That sounds super fun, but I have a better idea. Why don’t you lie back? I’ll climb on top and make us both feel great.”
“Sure thing,” Templeton rumbled, and nipped gently at one of those strong thighs of hers. He felt her jolt beneath his hands. He discovered, to his delight, that when she flushed like that it covered the whole of her body. Better still, goose bumps rose up everywhere. He could even smell her arousal, sweet and feminine. She shuddered. “But first, indulge me.”
