Hot on Her Tail

by Karen Anders

  He didn’t remember when he’d started thinking of her as Maxie and less as “blondie.” But he had.

  He put the phone on the nightstand and sank back down. Closing his eyes intensified her exotic scent. That sweet scent he would never get enough of and never forget. It seemed to have seeped into him permanently.

  It was quiet outside, except for the soft chirping of the birds. Quiet outside, but inside he was in turmoil. She’d been trouble and she had snagged a part of him he’d never known he had to give.

  Besides the needs that clamored inside him, one ugly fact still remained: He didn’t want to let her go.

  He was thankful that in his weakness he hadn’t made emotional admissions and confessions he couldn’t take back. He needed her in ways less basic, more intricate than the mere physical, but caving in to those needs, his primitive desires, seemed like jumping from the frying pan into the fire.

  It was easy to daydream. He used to do it a lot. Daydream that his father hadn’t died and they were all still a family. Daydream that he had been able to fulfill his dream and make a difference as an FBI agent. But he couldn’t daydream himself out of this dilemma. He had to bring her in even though he wanted to become part of her, integral to her life for the rest of time, the way he had the uncomfortable, despairing feeling that she’d become critical to his well-being, his sanity—only he was going to wind up losing her. If he brought her in, he’d lose her. If he let her go, he’d lose her. He may have lost his purpose in thinking he could give up the bounty and let her go, but the call from his mother reminded him that he did have responsibilities to provide for and care for his family.

  He’d lose again and in that moment between one breath and the next, he knew why he’d never taken, never wanted and let his dreams flow through his hands like water. He’d been afraid of losing, the way he’d lost his father, and then his mother to his stepfather. He’d kept his distance from his family, never fully embraced them and their love. Not even Jessica, because he was afraid all three of them would exit his life just like his father, leaving him alone.

  There was a deep, empty well inside him, one he could fill with Maxie so easily. He wanted her to fill him. He opened his eyes and turned his head.

  His heart contracted and he sighed heavily. She was exquisite, lying in wild, naked abandon—her smooth arms over her head, her sweet lips slightly parted, her golden blond hair spiked and sexy.

  He reached over and under the bed, where he’d secreted the key. Very gently, he unlocked the cuffs and set both the key and cuffs on the nightstand.

  Then he moved over her, and as if her mouth were a beacon in a dark, cold, lonely night, he took it. Her lips were a hot, wet invitation, a hint of secrets and pleasures to be revealed. He took it roughly, parting her lips with his tongue and moving inside, claiming her. She met his foray with enthusiasm and longing. She took his face between her hands to draw him closer, deeper, sent her tongue into his mouth on a sensual mission.

  He groaned, a daring sound full of hunger, a call to her heart. She moaned, an edgy sound filled with yearning, a reply that left no doubt to her feelings.

  Kneeling on the bed between her legs, he caught the underside of her knees and drew her towards him. She encircled his hips and locked her ankles, looped her elbows around his neck and pulled his chest flat against the sweet, yielding roundness of her breasts.

  Her eyes were slumberous, unfocused, filled with something that he knew was only for him. Her lips were full and dewy, ripened by his desire, curved with pleasure. Her nipples were hard and beaded against his chest. He felt his own nipples tighten in response, beyond his control. It was a first for him. He was a man who directed his own fate, controlled what he took and bestowed.

  She tightened her legs around his hips and curved against his erection, undulating while she caressed his hips and buttocks, moving her hands until she could cup him tightly.

  He trembled and moaned, lifting his hips and thrusting his rigid shaft into her palm. He felt her fingers circle him, tightening and loosening her grasp with a slow, continual, excruciating pressure that had him gasping with each move of her hand. His erection expanded and grew in reaction, while the slim facade of control he’d had only moments ago slipped away from him.

  “Maxie.” He caught her wrist, and held her hand still. “You keep that up and this’ll be a replay of that episode in your room.”

  She stared up at him, eyes wide and dark in the early morning light. “I like to watch you come. You are so beautiful, Austin.”

  “How about I come inside you and you can watch me then,” he said wryly, letting that “beautiful” comment rush over him like a seductive, hot wind. He loosened her fingers from around him, raised them to his mouth to graze the sensitive pads with his tongue and lips before kissing them, one by one.

  “Okay. I’m easy.” She smiled at him and he felt his chest constrict.

  “Maxie, I can say with utmost certainly that you are not easy.”

  She thrust her lower lip out and said, “Are you saying I’m difficult, hard even?”

  “Most definitely.” His breath left in a rush as she cupped him again.

  “I know hard, Austin. And I’m not anywhere near as hard as you. Your hardness makes me wet and needy.”

  His hand slipped down her body, sliding into the fold between her legs, seeing that she hadn’t lied. She arched and cried out when he slid two fingers into her. “You are,” he growled.

  “Austin, please.”

  He shifted down onto his shoulder, wincing as the tattoo-tender skin ran alongside her back. “Please what?”

  “Do what you want.” She swallowed again, breath catching, and shivered slightly, head dropping back against his shoulder. He let his hand drift farther up her side, farther up to tease the underside of her breast. “Whatever you want.” She moaned when his fingers framed her breast, brushed lightly at her nipple. “I like that,” she murmured. Another breath caught when he cupped and squeezed, dragged his hand down her belly to pull her buttocks tight against his loins. He drew her upper leg back across his hip, traced high up the inside of her thigh and rocked her against his erection. “Oh, Austin, that feels good.”

  “Good. It couldn’t be anything else with you.” His voice was a low murmur in her ear, sending his mouth on a hot, wayward tease along her neck. He hauled himself up to spoon tighter along her back, placed his thigh between hers and twisted a bit to zigzag a path of nipping kisses over her shoulder, down her side while his fingers loved and played, teased and tormented. He turned her upper body toward him.

  “I know it—” With a slow, wicked movement, he dragged his tongue over her taut nipple. His lips curved around the bud with a wet slide, arching Maxie’s back. She cried out when he drew hard. He could feel the hammering of her heart; her breathing altered and became harsh.

  Austin lifted his head. “You like that?” He dropped his head and, his eyes riveted to her face while he took his time exploring her breast with his tongue, flirting with her nipple without touching it.

  “Yes.” She arched back, pleading, begging for respite. “Austin…Austin…please, I can’t—”

  She gasped and recoiled, thrusting her hips in uncontrollable spasms when he curved his hand over her buttocks, slipped his hand between the slick center of her need and teased her with slow, measured circles. His arousal was hot and thick at the small of her back, her skin smooth and velvety.

  She shifted her shoulders, took his face in her hands and took his mouth.

  Darkness engulfed them, locked out everything but the intense energy that crackled around them, drawing them closer and closer together to join as one. Her restless hands molded over the long muscles of his thigh, her fingers kneading the hard curve of his buttocks, until he couldn’t stand any more of the excruciating pleasure.

  He turned her onto her back and slipped between her thighs. She breathed deeply, her eyes half closed, watching him through the fringe of her lashes. She still felt dreamy
, as if she was still asleep and he was a dream lover, yet she had never wanted so intensely as she did now, never hungered for a man as she did for him. The power of her need surprised her, because by nature she was a woman of great passion and verve, but he made her transcend that to some other amazing plane.

  She came up off the bed, forcing him back so that his buttocks rested on his heels. Her breathing was ragged, her feelings intense, electrifying. She put her hands on his slick chest, letting the electric sensation seep into her skin with little prickles of heat. The touch of his skin was vital. She slipped her hands into his thick, dark hair, caressed with her thumb the silky hair at his hairline.

  And for a long, heart-stopping moment she gazed into those sharp, intense eyes and saw something there that made her heart falter. Something she’d missed every time she’d looked at him. Something warm and sweet and so very tantalizing. The man he kept hidden. The man he wouldn’t give to anyone, except now he was giving himself to her. A knife that cut two ways.

  “Maxie, I…” His voice trailed off, filled with emotion, filled with need. Her fingers slid into his hair and she brought his mouth to hers. “It’s all right, Austin. It’s okay.” His arms wrapped around her and he bore her back to the bed.

  Her hand stroked down his back, curled around the hardness of his buttocks, moved around his magnificent body, her thumb caressed the blunt tip of his erection, spreading the result of his arousal around in smooth, exquisite circles. He growled deep in his throat and rolled, responding with an oath that sounded a lot like a prayer. His soft lips found hers and took them, drugging, no longer playful. The kiss coiled and corkscrewed through Maxie’s blood with serpentine heat, ran roughshod over her senses. When he pulled her astride him, she settled there.

  His hot brown eyes found her beautiful; his hands manipulated her hips, slid up her back forcing her to arch and thrust her breasts to his voracious mouth. She placed her hands on either side of his head and circled her hips while he suckled and laved her, stroking him, stoking him until they were both breathing harshly and mindless, rough with need.

  “Maxie.” Groaning, he searched the bed with his hand. “Where are they?”

  “Huh?” Her body was on fire and she couldn’t stop rocking, each exquisite motion making her separate father and father from sanity.

  “Condoms. Please. I need…to protect…”

  “Oh.” Her thoughts were so disorganized from the excitement he gave to her, making her lose focus.

  She climbed off him and looked over the side of the bed, fumbled along the edge of it until she came up with the box. Austin grabbed the box from her and pulled out a foil packet.

  “Wait,” she said.

  He didn’t answer, intent on getting the protection in place.

  “Wait,” she repeated and covered his hands with hers. “I want to do this.” She pulled the bit of rubber out of its package and, eyes on his face, placed it over the tip of his arousal.

  He made a low, deep sound of agreement and shoved hard into her hand. She unrolled the condom over his thickness. Then he hauled her underneath him.

  He held her gaze, his big body pressing her into the mattress, and himself to the hilt with one thrust. Her body arched in feminine abandon at the force of his penetration, at this searing invasion. His penis was smooth and hard, thick, impossibly deep, and she writhed around him.

  He steadied her, holding her firmly as he withdrew a little and thrust again, his gaze intent on her face. She couldn’t stop her gasping cry at the intense, spiraling sensation, the pleasure that was almost agony. Her heart pounded fiercely against her ribs. She clung to him with desperate hands, feeling as if she were about to be torn apart by an internal force that was larger than she could hold. He whispered soothingly to her, words of masculine assurance she couldn’t quite grasp, but the dark honey of his voice was more effective than any words.

  “Please.” She heard herself begging, for mercy, for relief, for anything and everything.

  As if he understood her urgency even better than she, he pulled back and thrust deep, with a frantic hard need pushing him, kept it up until she convulsed around him and began to climax.

  He rode her hard through the shuddering of her body. She had no control, no protection against the assault of intense feeling. He showed her no mercy as she went rigid like a strung bow. All she wanted was him, only him, the fierce intimacy of his body locked to hers.

  For long moments she lay still, beneath him while her breathing slowed and the perspiration dried on her body. She was suddenly aware of Austin stroking her hair and wasn’t sure how long he’d been doing that.

  She closed her eyes tightly trying to hold onto her composure. It just wouldn’t do to lose it now. She shifted her head and looked at the clock on the night table. Soon.

  Too soon.

  She kissed his chest, laving his nipples, sucking them into her mouth. Austin groaned raggedly, his hand clenching in her hair.

  Too soon.

  He began to harden inside her and Maxie groaned softly and moved against him.

  If there was a frantic aspect in her lovemaking, Austin was matching it with his own, Maxie thought. It was as if he, too, was thinking this was the last time they would ever do this, the last time their hands would touch each other, caress each other and transcend the very confines of the flesh, closer than skin, closer than a whisper, closer than hearts.

  He employed all that he had discovered about her body to propel her higher, harder. Maxie reciprocated loving the feel of every inch she touched, every gasp or groan. Her fingers sought out every curve of muscle, every hollow, until she could feel his heart throbbing beneath her fingertips.

  She tangled her fingers in his hair, loving the silken feel of it against her oversensitive palms. She slid her hands over his shoulders, then down along the even, strong column of his back, one vertebra at a time. She cupped the satin smooth skin of his firm buttocks and urged him deeper into her. She nuzzled his chest, taking the masculine scent of him deep into her lungs. Kissing and flicking her tongue over his chest, she circled his taut nipples until they pulled even tighter and he let out a hissing breath.

  He hastened the rhythm of his driving thrusts, and Maxie welcomed the fierce pounding, crying out his name at the depth of each stroke, wishing it could go on forever and already crying inwardly because she knew it couldn’t. She looked up at his face, curtained by the thick, dark strands of his hair. She reached up and pulled his head down toward her, driving her crazy with every movement of his slick body.

  His gaze met hers then, and she saw the flash of understanding there. He shifted one hand to her blond hair and ran his hands through the short spikes. It was a moment of intense connection that touched something deep inside her, more intimate than the joining of their bodies, Maxie felt her heart heave and swell in response to the quiet physical dialogue.

  She felt his hand slide between their bodies and knew it had touched him the same way, that moment of implicit unity. With a soft, anguished cry, her hips surged upward, begging for the touch that would send her over the edge. The pad of his finger gently probed until he found the nerve-rich center of her. With a guttural sound he caressed her, as his body maintained the excruciating, exhilarating tempo.

  She pushed at him and rolled him over, sliding her hands up his arms, forcing his hands over his head close to the headboard. She reached over with a heavy heart and grabbed the cuffs and snapped them on, her fingers threading through his captured fingers.

  And a moment later her body was gathering itself for a bittersweet release. She clutched at his shoulders, moaning. His nostrils flared, and he shifted himself slightly upward, his rigid flesh sliding over the spot he’d been stroking moments before he’d become manacled. She moaned, nearly screamed, as the convulsions took her, pulsing through her in hot, heavy beats, when his hard shaft entered her.

  At the sound of a Harley outside, they both stiffened.

  “Maxie?”

  She t
ried to clear away the cramp in her throat, but a renewed sense of loss welled up in her and her vision blurred. How could she explain this to him so that he would understand? She couldn’t bear what taking her in would do to him. More than she wanted to save her sister, she wanted to save Austin the agony. This was the only answer. She would take the decision out of his hands once and for all. For good. He wouldn’t have to compromise his principles, his honor and duty would be intact and that gave her more satisfaction than any thing that she had ever done before in her life. Saving him made her whole.

  The bed dipped as he shifted his weight, then he gasped as she shifted her hips. He was so close to orgasm the pleasure on his face so intense.

  His eyes watched her with an unwavering stare, the dark stubble accentuating the stern set of his jaw. Compelled by the searching intensity of his eyes, she held his gaze, desolation nearly overwhelming her. Trying to clear her throat, she took a deep, unsteady breath, then forced herself to speak. “I’ve made such a mess of things,” she whispered hoarsely. “I’m sorry.”

  11

  “MAXIE,” HE PROTESTED, pulling against the cuffs, but he was too far gone, the need for her overrode everything else.

  She wanted to close her eyes. Anything more than what she was feeling right at this moment would be too much. But then Austin cried out her name, arching into her like a bow, throwing back his head as he thrust his hips against hers, and she couldn’t look away from the beauty of his face as the pleasure took him. As the last spasms of her body died away, she felt the hot, molten rush as he pulsed inside her, shuddering under her as he said her name again in a low, guttural moan that was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard.

  And the most mournful, for it was tinged with all the regret, all the acknowledgment of impossibility she herself was feeling.

  And even though she knew nothing had changed, she couldn’t regret having seen him like this one last time.

  Austin was still breathing hard, his eyes closed when she moved off his body.