Guts & Glory: Walker (In the Shadows Security Book 4)

by Jeanne St. James

  “Stop.”

  Her eyelids lifted, but her movement stilled.

  He widened his thighs and demanded, “Panties off. Then come here.”

  She shimmied out of her underwear and his eyes followed them as they dropped to the floor at her feet.

  Absolutely soaked.

  “Come here,” he murmured again, his fist tightening around his cock, hoping he didn’t blow his load before he even got a chance to play.

  He frowned when she covered her breasts before stepping between his thighs. “Don’t cover yourself from me.”

  “It’s been a long time, honey.”

  The “honey” was so soft and sweet, he could taste it. “Yeah and I want to see every inch of you. Every fucking inch.” He grabbed her wrists and pressed them to her side, moving her back just a half-step so he could see all of her.

  Fucking gorgeous. Better than he ever remembered. No, his memories hadn’t held what was before him.

  Perfection.

  Starting at the top of her head, with his eyes following every move, he brushed his fingers over her hair, down her forehead, her nose, her cheekbones, over her lips and chin. He circled his fingers around her throat to feel her breath, her pulse, the smallest noise that bubbled up. He swept both hands over her shoulders and down her arms all the way to her fingertips, then returned on the same path back up. The pads of his fingers traced her collarbones, then slipped to her sides, over her ribs to the dip of her waist, over the softness of her lower belly and the outer curves of her hips. He let his fingers travel from both hip bones to meet in the center and hover on her warm skin right above her patch of damp, dark, curly hair.

  He could smell her. That feminine scent which brought back memories, too. She was ready for him. Slick with need, but she remained still as he continued to explore, his hands sliding down her thighs, around her knees to the tops of her calves until he couldn’t reach anymore.

  “Turn around,” he murmured.

  Goosebumps broke out over her skin. An uncontrollable reaction he liked to see.

  She wanted this. She wanted more.

  He would give it all to her.

  “Turn around.” Even though it wasn’t a suggestion, he kept his voice soft but firm.

  She turned as he kept his hands on her hips, her soft skin sliding along his palms. When she was facing away from him, he started at the top again. Combing his fingers through her hair, then gathering it into his fist.

  “Hold it on top of your head.”

  She took it from him, her fingers brushing against his as she did so. She pulled her hair up, exposing the back of her neck. That delicate line. Years ago, when he’d bite or suck her skin hard enough to leave a mark, he’d do it back there. Where he knew she wore his claim but no one else could see it.

  When his fingertips swept over that spot, she shivered.

  She remembered, too.

  He pressed his fingers hard there, right below her hairline. Her low groan, one it sounded like she was fighting, made his cock flex against his stomach.

  Before the night was over, he planned on marking her there again.

  He slid his hands down to the top of her back, spread his fingers wide and with both thumbs at the center, he traveled her spine. Her muscles shifted slightly under his fingers as they moved lower, stopping at the small of her back. Two indentations marked her back above both hips. Divots, in the past, he couldn’t resist tasting each time he saw them.

  He wanted to taste them now, but he waited.

  His hands whispered over her skin until he cupped the bottom curves of her ass, but he didn’t linger, he kept going. Down her thighs, the creases at the backs of her knees and around until his fingers curled around her calves, the tips sliding along her shins.

  He was done.

  Lost. But found.

  The beauty of the woman before him almost blinding.

  “Turn around,” he told her again and she did it more quickly this time.

  After the last shiver, she had begun to tremble. He understood it, he was having a hard time keeping the tremor from his own hands.

  “My turn?” she asked with unfocused eyes, parted lips, and flushed cheeks. Her hair once again falling in waves around her slender shoulders.

  Beautiful.

  He wasn’t sure if he could wait for her to do the same thing to him as he did to her, but if he could...

  This was more than a reintroduction to each other. What he just did to her, his exploration, was something he enjoyed. Taking his time and learning every inch of a woman’s body. He viewed the curves and planes of a woman like art. But he hadn’t done it in a long time. He didn’t waste time doing things like that with women like Sami.

  She’d been a means to an end.

  Ellie was anything but that.

  Which also meant he was anything but that to her.

  If she wanted to take the time to rediscover him, what she’d missed in the last almost two decades, he wouldn’t deny her.

  In fact, he’d encourage it.

  He released her hips and shifted back on the bed. “How do you want me?”

  Her green eyes flashed as she said in a husky voice, “On your belly first.”

  His cock twitched, a string of precum stretched like a bridge from the crown to his hip.

  He gathered it onto his thumb and before he could do anything with it, she grabbed his hand in both of hers and lifted it to her mouth. Her lips closed around his digit as she sucked it clean, her eyes drifting shut for a moment, a groan coming from deep within her chest.

  Fuck. If he had been standing on two good legs, that right there would’ve taken him to his knees. The look of ecstasy on her face as she tasted him pulled his balls so tight, he thought they would explode.

  The second she released his hand, he stretched out in the center of the mattress and rolled over, giving her what she wanted. His only issue was he couldn’t watch her as he’d like.

  Soon.

  Waiting was a good thing. Could be a great thing in the right situations.

  This was one of those. It would be all worth the wait.

  After climbing onto the bed and straddling his thighs, all he could think about was how her thighs were stretched apart and her pussy ripe for his taking.

  But he endured.

  Through every touch, light brush of her lips, scrape of her teeth, touch of her tongue. In places a woman hadn’t touched him in a long time. If ever.

  They spent many hours exploring each other when they were young, but after a point, he would lose his patience and would settle her on his cock, or he would settle between her thighs. Or both.

  He could control his urges better now. He’d taught himself to do so. To prolong the pleasure so it was more intense when he finally let himself have it. Or when he decided it was time to give it.

  And as much as he wanted to flip over, put Ellie on her back and drive himself home, to a place where he belonged, he also told himself he could wait. For that very reason. The intensity of the pleasure would be worth the delaying of the release.

  He jerked when she nipped his right ass cheek and then tensed when she did the same to the left.

  He smiled into the pillow. He could watch her over his shoulder if he needed, but he was enjoying the tactile pleasure she was giving him and the unknown of what she’d do next.

  What he didn’t expect was where she went from there. As she moved lower, her fingers brushed along the back of his right leg, while her mouth trailed down his left.

  Every muscle locked and he held his breath as she didn’t stop or reverse her path. She kept going.

  Lower.

  Her mouth and fingers touching the back of both his knees.

  Lower.

  To where his legs were no longer symmetrical. One still whole. One not.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to take a shuddered breath as she explored the area, the scar, what remained of his leg just below his knee, lightly with her lips and her
fingertips.

  And just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore, she was gone. As she moved away, both the bed and the air around him shifted.

  So, he stayed still where he was.

  Looking forward to what was to come.

  What came next was her straddling his waist, her leaning over until her diamond tipped nipples skimmed the skin of his back and she whispered, “Turn over,” near his ear.

  Fuck.

  He wouldn’t be surprised if there was a wet spot on the covers where his dick had been planted.

  She rose to her knees and he took his time turning over and when he was finally on his back, he took her in. When she settled back down, her damp curls pressed to his skin, the heat of her pussy searing him, tempting him.

  He kept his hands to his sides, wanting to touch, but also wanting to wait.

  Her auburn hair fell around her face as she tipped her chin to stare down at him. “I didn’t think you could get any better with age, but you proved me wrong. I never imagined in a million years that the boy I fell in love with would turn into the man you are, Trace.”

  “You don’t know me anymore, sweetheart.”

  Her body jerked and she quickly hid the surprise that crossed her face. Whether she was reacting to his statement or his endearment, or both, he wasn’t sure.

  But what he said was true. Who and what he was at twenty when he enlisted was not the same person who left the Army on a disability discharge. What he’d done in those years as a Night Stalker and what he’d done since as a Shadow...

  If she knew, the pride he heard in her words might not be there. She might rethink what she just said.

  No. If she knew some of the things he’d done and might do in the future, she’d most likely be appalled.

  But she didn’t know, and she’d never know the secrets that he—and all his fellow Shadows—kept. It remained that way to protect themselves, as well as the select few who surrounded them.

  She hadn’t responded to his comment, instead she’d studied his face, her head tilted just slightly.

  Did he fuck up the moment?

  He wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

  He took action to reverse that by popping his hip up, throwing her off balance, grabbing her arms and flipping her to her back, a loud oof escaping her.

  He caged her in. His hands planted on each side of her head, his thighs squeezing her hips, as he gave her some of his weight. Not all, just enough to pin her to the bed.

  It was his turn once again. To hold the power. Take the control.

  To show Ellie how much he not only wanted her now, but how much he had missed her.

  And to steal back the piece of himself she had taken from him.

  Chapter Eight

  A simple kiss became so much more as Trace sealed their lips together once again, his tongue, sweeping through her mouth, teased hers.

  She’d never forgotten what a great kisser he was. But then, they’d had lots of practice.

  Hours. Days. Months. Even years.

  How he made a kiss so satisfying was beyond her comprehension. She had kissed other boys before him. And none of them could hold a candle to Trace.

  And George couldn’t even begin to compare, either. While his kisses were pleasant, they were hardly toe-curling.

  No, Trace’s kisses made every part of her clench, every molecule of her body sigh. They stole her breath. They made her moan. They made her want... so much more.

  She wanted everything from him.

  He pulled away slightly, his breathing as ragged as hers, his erection pressing hard against her thigh, the crown slippery against her skin. The tip of his tongue swept along her bottom lip before he gently snagged it between his teeth and pulled.

  After a brush of his rough cheek against hers, he slid his lips down her jaw, tucking his face into her neck. His warm breath swept over her throat as his tongue traced her pulse, dipped into the hollow of her neck.

  Ellie threw her head back and air rushed from her lungs as Trace traveled lower.

  He pressed kisses across her chest, around the outer curves of her breasts. And like with his fingers earlier, he avoided what she wanted him to touch most. Her breasts swelled and ached for him, her nipples pebbled painfully. He blew lightly across each tip.

  “Please,” she groaned.

  He said nothing, only making her want to beg more when he lightly touched the tip of his tongue to the very tip of her nipple. One. The other. She arched her back, her body screaming for more. But he didn’t give it to her. He denied her.

  He continued lower, scraping his rough cheek down her belly, dipping his tongue into her navel and went even further. His warm breath battered her skin, raising goosebumps along her flesh in his path. Only stopping when he reached the top of her curls. He buried his nose there, inhaling deeply.

  She lifted her head, seeing his arms curled over the tops of her thighs, his eyes tipped to hers. A slight smile on his face, a wicked gleam in his eyes. His tongue came out and he parted the curls in a downward line, only stopping right at the very top of her pussy, right above her clit, which was swollen and throbbing and oh so ready for his touch.

  “Trace,” she whispered, her voice catching.

  He nuzzled his nose above her pussy, his hot breath beating against her slick folds and with his hands he spread her thighs even wider.

  But he waited.

  And she was going out of her mind.

  Did he want her to beg? Because she wasn’t above begging.

  “Trace,” she moaned.

  A quick touch of the tip of his tongue at the top of her folds and he was gone. He brushed his hands, his lips, his warm skin down her thighs, over and around her knees, her calves and shins. He pressed his lips to the tops of her feet. And he pulled her big toe into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it.

  Her pussy clenched and she fisted the sheets at something she never expected to drive her crazy. She never expected having a toe in his mouth would be so sensuous. An almost forbidden pleasure.

  He released her toe and worked his way back up, tasting her skin as he went, tracing her flesh with his fingers.

  She gasped when he threw her legs over her shoulders and buried his face between her thighs.

  Finally, whispered through her mind and maybe even over her lips.

  The tip of his tongue circled her clit, flicked it. Then he put his lips on her and sucked hard.

  Her hips shot off the bed and she slammed her palms against the mattress, almost tearing the sheets within her fingers.

  She released them and grabbed his head, her fingers digging in hard. He grabbed her wrists and pulled them away, pinning them to the bed on either side of her hips.

  And during all that he didn’t stop what he was doing, which was making her crawl out of her skin. His mouth, his tongue, his teeth. All wreaking havoc on her sanity.

  Her heels dug into his back as she drove herself up and into his mouth. He sucked harder, both her clit and swollen folds, and she cried out his name.

  He released her wrists and she groaned when he spread her and slid two fingers inside her, fucking her hard, sucking her even harder.

  His words vibrated against her sensitive clit. “Tell me when you’re gonna come.”

  He nibbled along her folds, down one, up the other, scraping his teeth over her clit until her hips twitched uncontrollably.

  “Tell me.”

  “Soon,” she forced out.

  He lifted his head, his fingers stilling, and she hissed out a breath.

  She frowned. “I was about to—”

  “Tell me,” he ordered before dropping his head back down and started his routine all over again. Circling, flicking, sucking. Biting.

  It wasn’t long before she was almost there again. Just at that point where... “I’m—”

  He lifted his head again, his fingers slipping from her.

  What the hell! “Trace,” she growled.

  He chuckled.

&nbs
p; Chuckled!

  “Really?”

  He buried his head again between her thighs, making her melt back into the mattress once more, letting the pleasure he was giving her crescendo again.

  This time she didn’t warn him.

  Hell no.

  She locked her jaws together, twisted her fingers into the sheets and let the most intense orgasm she ever had roll through her.

  Holy shit.

  Now she got what he was doing and why. And she wanted more.

  “You didn’t warn me,” came his growl against her pussy.

  She lifted her head off the pillow and looked down her body at him. “How did you know?”

  He tilted his face up to meet her eyes, his lips shiny, his eyes intense. “Because I know.”

  “Do you want to explain that?”

  “You gonna get bent if I do?”

  Would she? “Maybe.” He probably had a lot of women in nineteen years. “I was only with you and—”

  He surged from between her legs, letting them drop to the mattress, and moved up her body until he braced his weight in his palms, one on each side of her head. He dropped his head again until they were almost nose to nose, this time to lock their gazes. “That conversation ends here. When you’re in my bed, you don’t mention another man. Especially him. Hear me?” When she didn’t answer fast enough, he continued. “And I won’t tell you where I learned that. But I can tell you it started with us.”

  It started with us.

  With those years of waiting. Of only allowing themselves to go so far before stopping.

  Until finally... That night.

  Their first time was better than she’d ever dreamed. She had heard from her friends losing her virginity could be painful and awkward. They were all thankful it was over quickly.

  But that wasn’t how it was with her and Trace.

  Not even close.

  The waiting might have been torture, but in the end? It was perfect and special and unforgettable.

  They finally gave each other the most precious gift that they could give each other. A gift they could only give someone once.

  But age and experience only made things better. And the orgasm he just gave her was the most intense one she ever had.