Delta Force Defender

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Delta Force Defender Page 12

by Carol Ericson


  A slow smile crept across his mouth, and before she had time to ask him what it meant, he had her against the wall, pressing the full length of his body against hers.

  He captured her wrists in one hand, dragged her arms above her head and pinned them to the wall. He growled, his lips one hot breath away from hers. “You talk too much.”

  The kiss he planted on her mouth heated her blood. Her knees wobbled. Her skin tingled. Her lashes fluttered closed and as his tongue invaded her mouth, she wrapped one leg around his in an attempt to stay upright.

  When he finished draining her with that one kiss, he unbuttoned her pants. To allow him to pull them down easily, she arched her back. Instead, with her pants still around her hips, Cam plunged his hand inside her panties, and she gasped at the sweet invasion.

  He toyed with the swollen folds of her flesh, and she closed around his fingers as she rocked against him.

  She couldn’t just let him do all the work, but his other hand still held her wrists captive. She rested her head on his shoulder and pressed her lips against his neck.

  As she got closer to her release, she bared her teeth against his skin and nipped at it.

  And then it happened. Her orgasm clawed through her body, and her head fell back against the wall, banging it.

  Cam tucked his hand beneath her bottom, his fingers still toying with her, as she rocked against him.

  He released her wrists, and she grabbed the front of his shirt. With shaking fingers she unbuttoned it, fanned it out and slipped it from his arms.

  His broad chest looked chiseled from granite. With a fever burning in her veins, she trailed her fingers from his throat to the waistband of his jeans.

  As she worked on the fly, Cam braced his hands against the wall on either side of her and kept dipping his head to tease her with kisses.

  “I thought you were supposed to be ripping my clothes off. You’re kinda slow.”

  She yanked his fly open and skimmed her palm over the bulge in his briefs. “Oh, I want you.”

  He toed off his shoes and kicked them down the stairs. Then he shed his jeans and his underwear at the same time and kicked them off the side of the staircase.

  He tugged at her clothing, not quite ripping it off, and dropped each piece over the bannister to the floor below to join his clothes.

  For a brief moment she thought he’d taken her hand to lead her up the rest of the staircase to her bedroom. Instead, he urged her down to the step directly beneath her.

  She sat with her legs extended down the stairs, as he crouched beside her. Looked like she’d have to wait to have him because he seemed intent on having her again.

  He spread her legs, and the toes of her left foot curled around the wooden balusters that drilled into each step. He positioned himself between her thighs a few steps below her.

  When his tongue touched her aching flesh, her bottom bounced from the step.

  “You’re not going anywhere.” He flattened his palms against her inner thighs and dipped his head to renew his tender assault.

  She didn’t even last as long as the previous time, and the heat surged through her body and into her cheeks as her orgasm raced through every cell of her body.

  He came up for air and rested his chin on her mound as she still writhed beneath him. “That didn’t take long. Either you haven’t had sex in a while, or I’m the greatest lover known to womankind.”

  “It’s been years.”

  Cam’s eyes popped open, and Martha giggled as she ran one foot up the back of his leg and planted it against his muscled buttocks. “I’m just kidding.”

  “You’re cruel.” He reached up and cupped one of her breasts. “And who knew Martha Drake giggled?”

  “Only when she’s with the greatest lover known to womankind.”

  He rose above her, as if doing a push-up over her body, and skimmed the tip of his erection along her belly. “I haven’t even gotten started yet.”

  He grabbed the bannister and pulled himself up, hooking one arm around her waist. He pressed his naked body against hers and kissed her hard and long.

  “Where the hell is your bedroom in this dump?”

  She traced his perfect form with her hands on either side of his body and trailed her fingertips across his smooth, tight skin. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  “I could take you right here on the staircase if you want.” He tapped the hard wood of the bannister. “Lean you right over and claim you from behind.”

  “But my bed is so soft and warm.”

  “Just like you.” He swept her up in his arms, cradling her five-foot-ten-inch frame against his chest like she was a teddy bear.

  Her head fell into the hollow of his shoulder, fitting perfectly, and her mouth watered as she anticipated the other perfect fit between their bodies.

  She directed him to her bedroom, and he kicked open the half-closed door, which gave her a thrill. As he dropped her on the bed, she reached for him with greedy hands.

  Grabbing those hands, he kissed her fingertips. “You’re so beautiful. I watched your face during your first orgasm, and it was like witnessing the birth of a butterfly.”

  A wash of red immediately claimed Cam’s cheeks. “Was that the stupidest comparison ever?”

  A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye. “That was the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. The best bit of poetry I’ve ever heard.”

  “You’re just saying that.” He stretched out beside her and caressed every inch of her body as he rained kisses all over her face.

  She wanted to pleasure him, too, but he wouldn’t allow it.

  He whispered in her ear, “This is all about you tonight. I want you to feel pampered, desired...”

  Loved. She wanted to feel loved, but what right did she have to expect that from Cam? She’d practically dragged him into bed. What was he going to do, turn her down? Cam Sutton was a hot-blooded, all-American male. Men like Cam didn’t turn down invitations to sex—ever.

  As he began moving against her, spreading her open, entering her, all her insecurities slipped away in breathless wanting. He filled her up, seemed to find every deficit in her soul and had an answer for it.

  This time, she got to watch him as he experienced his release, and the sheer pleasure that spasmed across his face gave her a sense of power and tenderness at the same time. For several moments, she held his joy cupped within her.

  As he shifted off her body, he nuzzled her neck. “I don’t know if that just made the situation between us better or worse.”

  She froze, her fingers ceasing their combing his hair back from his forehead. “What does that mean? How can what we just experienced make anything worse? Unless I just misread everything that happened.”

  “You didn’t misread a damned thing, Martha.” He rolled to his side and propped up his head with his hand, his elbow digging into the pillow. “That was incredible and we both know it, but I still have to protect you. I don’t know how I can do that job with a clear head now.”

  “It’ll be better.” She traced his bottom lip with her thumb. “Now that we’ve gotten the sex part out of the way, we’ll be able to focus better on the issues in front of us.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “The sex part?”

  “You know, all that tension between us, or at least on my side?” She tried to keep the insecure questioning out of her voice but failed miserably.

  “I know exactly what you mean.” He kissed the pad of her thumb.

  She cupped his jaw briefly with her hand. “I’m going to pick up our clothes downstairs.”

  He grabbed her hand as she rolled from the bed. “I can do that if it’s driving you crazy knowing they’re in heaps on the floor.”

  “That’s okay. I’m going to get some water, too.”

  Yawning, he settled back against the pillow
. “Hurry back.”

  From the edge of the bed, she surveyed his heavy lids and slow, steady breathing. She rolled her eyes. Even if she hurried, he’d probably be sleeping by the time she came back.

  She tiptoed from the room and crept down the stairs, picking up items of clothing as she went. She gathered up the rest of their things where Cam had dropped them over the bannister, and her lips twitched. He’d really shown her a night of passion.

  She bundled the clothes on a chair and flicked on the lights beneath the kitchen cabinets. She grabbed a glass from the cupboard and turned toward the fridge.

  A quick movement caught her eye, and she glanced at the sliding glass doors to the back. She let out a scream and dropped the glass on the floor where it shattered.

  But she still couldn’t tear her gaze away from a pair of gleaming eyes that had caught her in their malevolent stare.

  Chapter Eleven

  A crash and a scream from Martha yanked Cam to full consciousness. He bolted upright and reached for his gun...which he’d left downstairs in his jacket.

  “Martha!” Scrambling from the bed, he scanned the floor for his briefs and remembered he’d dropped them over the stairs. “Just great.”

  He stumbled for the door and charged down the stairs, calling Martha’s name again. He followed the glow of the low light emanating from the kitchen.

  He almost plowed into Martha’s back as he launched into the kitchen.

  She stumbled forward, and he caught her around the waist as she raised her arm, pointing toward the sliding door to the back of the house.

  He peered at the darkness beyond the glass, beyond the reflection of the two of them naked and entwined in some other kind of dance from the one they’d left upstairs. Martha’s body was stiff and unyielding, and she hadn’t said one word to him since that scream had echoed throughout the house.

  Giving her a little shake, he asked, “What’s wrong? What happened, Martha? Did you see something outside?”

  She cranked her head to the side and worked her mouth for a few seconds before she finally found her voice. “A man. A man with a black ski mask covering his whole face was looking in at me.”

  Adrenaline ripped through Cam’s body and he lunged for the door, but Martha grabbed his arm.

  “Wait. There’s glass on the floor and...and you don’t have any clothes on.”

  “More importantly, I don’t have my weapon.” He spun around and strode to the chair where he’d left his jacket. He plunged his hand in the pocket and grabbed his gun. He swiped his jeans from the same chair and struggled into them on his way back to the kitchen.

  This time he nearly tripped over Martha, on her hands and knees, sweeping a towel across the kitchen floor.

  “You need shoes. I think I pushed most of the glass aside, but it’s freezing out there. Your shoes are under the chair where I put our clothes.”

  With the intruder most likely putting more and more distance between himself and the house—and Cam’s gun—Cam turned and stuffed his bare feet into his shoes. Finally, he charged outside.

  Martha had turned on the outdoor lights, and Cam scanned the small patio and the lawn beyond it, which tumbled down to the boat dock and the bay. He took the corner of the house and ran in a crouched position to the front.

  He peered around the corner to the driveway, but if the masked man had arrived in a car and driven up to the front of the house, he was gone now. It made sense that Ben would know about this place. He seemed to know everything else about Martha.

  The cold night air seeped into his bare flesh as he made his way to the circular driveway. He cocked his head, listening for—anything, a receding car, the squeal of a tire. He heard nothing but his own heart slamming against his chest.

  He returned to the back patio where Martha hovered at the sliding door, his jacket clasped to her chest.

  “Nothing out front?”

  “No.”

  She thrust the jacket at him when he got close. “Put this on. It’s freezing out here.”

  Poking his arms through the sleeves, he asked, “What was he doing at the door? What did you see?”

  “Not much.” She hugged herself. “I glanced up and saw his face at the door, except it wasn’t really his face. His face was completely covered by a ski mask.”

  “Did he try to get in?”

  “I-I’m not sure. He didn’t run away until you got down here.”

  “Close the door. I want to check something.”

  Martha stepped onto the patio next to him and slid the door closed.

  Cam ran his hand over the window closest to the door handle, skimming his palm over the chilly glass. Then he felt it. His fingertips traced over a rough edge in the glass.

  “Did you find anything?”

  “I did. Feel this.” He took her hand and guided her fingers over the damaged window.

  She snatched her hand back and wrinkled her nose. “It’s cut.”

  “He used some glass-cutting tool. He was going to slice out a part of the window and reach in to unlock the door.”

  She jerked upright. “He knows about this house.”

  “Of course he does, Martha.”

  Flicking her fingers at the window, she jerked upright. “That’s what he was doing when I discovered him. He stopped because you came onto the scene. I guess he wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here.”

  “Too bad I wasn’t prepared for him.” He snapped his fingers. “The camera system. I noticed the house has cameras on all corners. Can you pull that up on the computer?”

  “Yes.” She sighed. “The sun’s going to be coming up soon anyway. Who needs sleep?”

  He caught a strand of her hair and wrapped it around his finger. “I’d rather do what we did instead of sleep any day of the week.”

  “Me, too.”

  He tugged her forward by her hair and kissed her sweet lips. “Video.”

  “Maybe you could put on the rest of your clothes, so I won’t get distracted.” She wiggled her fingers in the air over his bare chest, and his skin tingled as if she’d actually touched him.

  “Yeah, distractions.” He yanked open the sliding glass door and stalked to the chair where a lone shirt hung. Martha had already put on all her clothes from last night.

  At the entrance to a door off the main hallway, Martha crooked her finger at him. “The office. My mom’s desktop computer is in here, and we can look up the footage.”

  Martha stationed herself behind the big desk and clicked on a lamp. “Let me see if I can remember how to retrieve it.”

  “It’s all pretty standard.” He leaned over her shoulder as she clicked through the files on the computer’s desktop.

  The monitor displayed four squares, and Martha poked at each one as she identified it. “Driveway, front door and porch, back door, boat dock.”

  “Time?” He swirled his finger around the date and time stamp in the lower-right corner of each panel.

  Martha enlarged the driveway display and moved the cursor to the menu. She adjusted the time to just about thirty minutes before she went downstairs.

  Cam squinted at the video. “Is it motion-activated?”

  “I honestly don’t know that much about it, but I think so. It’s just dark, isn’t it?”

  “Do you know for sure if it works?”

  She slumped against the deep, leather chair. “No.”

  “Maybe he didn’t come up the driveway. He wouldn’t be that obvious, would he? I didn’t see or hear any evidence that he had a car out front. Switch to another view. We know for sure he was at the back door.”

  Martha switched to the video panel showing the back door and made it bigger. She set the time back, and they both stared at the murky display again.

  The image came to life and Cam let out a breath. “There he is.”
<
br />   A figure moved into the frame, a ski mask pulled low over his face, dark, baggy clothing loose around his body.

  Martha bolted upright. “That’s our guy.”

  “Unfortunately, that could be any guy. That could be me or even you. Just like using a disguise at the Insider, he’s covering up.”

  The man came in from the side and crowded the door for several seconds, hunching over.

  “He’s probably working on the window.”

  The man stood still, placing gloved hands against the door, staring into the house.

  “Ugh, that’s probably when I noticed him.”

  The intruder sprang back from the door, stumbling over a potted plant. He dashed toward the lawn and out of the camera’s view.

  “He’s heading toward the boat dock.” Martha pulled up that panel, but the camera recorded nothing, no movement at all. “That one might be broken.”

  “We wouldn’t have been able to identify him anyway, not with that ski mask.”

  Martha shoved back from the desk. “I wish I knew what he wanted. He must’ve come here to break in and do a search.”

  “If all he wanted to do was search your place for whatever he thinks Casey left you, he would’ve taken off when you appeared in the kitchen and caught him red-handed.”

  Slowly turning the chair to face him, Martha asked, “Do you think he wanted to harm me this time?”

  “You said he didn’t leave until I stumbled onto the scene. You’d already noticed him, and that didn’t make him go away.”

  “So, he’s reached the point where he doesn’t want to take a chance that I’ll discover his identity from something Casey might have left behind.” Martha’s fingers clawed into the arms of the chair.

  Cam bent forward and smoothed his hands down her arms. “Maybe he just wanted to question you.”

  “Question?” She tilted her head back to meet his eyes. “Is that a nice way of saying interrogate under a single bright light? The man’s a killer, Cam. He’s proven that three times now.”

 

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