Dangerous Attraction

by Sidney Bristol

  He leaned over her, running a hand up her stomach to cup a breast.

  “I don’t get involved with clients. I don’t do it.”

  “Oh...”

  “You’re different. I should be different.” The hard line of his mouth and the dark furrows on his brow suddenly made a tiny bit of sense.

  She wasn’t the only one dealing with self-doubt. This larger-than-life man, this hero, had insecurities too. She smoothed her hand up his arm to his face where she traced the lines.

  “I like you. Be you,” she said.

  He bent his head and kissed her again, and this time his mouth was soft, yielding. She greedily stroked her hands down his back to the firm globes of his ass. Man, he had a nice ass—all firm and hard.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of her, relishing the way he pressed her into the cushions. His hands blazed a path across her body, her skin tingling everywhere they touched. She grabbed handfuls of his shirt, hauling it up and over his head.

  Bare skin.

  She could have cheered, but she saw the scars first.

  Dots, lines, and jagged scars created a topographical map of Travis’ life on his skin. He hadn’t been kidding when he said he was a human shield. Her heart ached for him. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder, tasting him.

  He shoved his arms under her and hauled her up into his arms, cradling her close.

  Bliss yelped and clung to his shoulders, cringing. He was a strong guy, but she wasn’t exactly tiny. Still, he didn’t miss a step or even grunt carrying her into her bedroom and the big bed she slept in alone. He laid her down and stripped her shirt and bra off her, leaving her in just her panties.

  His hands traced the lace at her hip and down her thigh. Her breath caught the closer he got to her mound.

  “Fuck,” he muttered.

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry. I think my hands are too rough for this stuff. I snagged them.” He smoothed out the snarl in her lace panties.

  “It’s okay. I have more than one pair.” They were clothes. She could replace those. This moment? It was a once in a lifetime thing.

  He cocked his head to the side.

  “Really?” he asked.

  She could hear him thinking. What was he up to?

  Travis dug in his pocket and produced the same knife she’d taken earlier to defend herself. He flicked it open and she held her breath.

  He wouldn’t...

  11.

  Bliss watched in fascination and a touch of fashion horror. With a gentle flick of his wrist, Travis parted the delicate lace at her hip with the blade of his knife, never once coming close to her skin. She gasped and watched him do it again on the other side, until her panties were in bits and she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing.

  “There we go,” he muttered.

  The knife went onto her nightstand while he pushed her thighs apart, crawling up onto the bed.

  “You just...”

  “I did.” He kissed her inner thigh.

  She fought the urge to cover herself, but it was a bit too late for that. Besides, her subconscious knew exactly what she wanted. Her lungs burned, needing oxygen, but she couldn’t move a muscle.

  Travis traced a winding path from her knee to the other leg and back and forth on either thigh. She’d never been so grateful to Wendy for those nightmare waxing trips they went on every so often. Stray hairs were the least of her worries.

  He kissed her mound, and her breath rushed out of her lungs. She dropped her head back against the pillows and shifted her feet restlessly on either side of him. If she’d thought she’d been hot for him before, it was nothing compared to the arousal burning her up from the inside. And all he’d done was strip her down and kiss her a bit.

  “Travis...” She couldn’t bear to look at him. Was he having second thoughts?

  “Yeah?”

  She pried one eye open and peered down at him. He had one hand splayed over her left hip and his gaze on her face. Her poor lungs froze again. Desire sharpened Travis’ features, his cheeks sunk in, and his deadly focus was all on her.

  What did she say? What could she say?

  “Where’s the bullet?” he asked.

  “Uh, what?”

  “Earlier you said you liked a bullet. Where is it?”

  “Forget it.” She couldn’t help glancing at her nightstand. The drawer was closed, right?

  “In here?” Travis reached where her traitorous eyes led him and opened the drawer.

  Two cloth bins separated out her favorite toys into daily and occasional use, each in a color-coded bag. He snagged a pink cloth bag from the back of the drawer.

  “No!” She snatched the toy bag from his fingers and shoved it under the pillow.

  “What is that?” Travis crawled up her body, his hand delving under the pillow to close around hers.

  “Not a bullet.”

  Shit. That was the last thing he needed to see.

  “Show me.” He tugged on her hand, but didn’t force her to comply.

  “No.” She shook her head.

  Travis studied her for a moment. If he looked in that bag, she was pretty sure he’d leave right now.

  “Okay, then which one is the bullet?”

  “Blue bag.”

  “Which one?” He glanced at the drawer.

  “All of them, just pick one.”

  “You like your bullets, huh?” He released her hand, and she breathed a sigh of relief. But it didn’t last long. He picked a blue bag out of the mix and upended it on the mattress next to her.

  Oh no...not that one...

  Travis pinched the finger loops and lifted the pink-and-chrome toy off the sheets. The silver, egg-shaped bullet was halfway encased in a silver silicone sleeve, with two finger loops on either side of the mid-section. A clear, pink tongue curved up and over the bullet part, the surface ribbed and covered in bumps. He would pick the more outlandish looking toy to open.

  “I don’t get it,” he said after a moment.

  She covered her face with one hand and took it from him. Practice and plenty of time with this particular toy meant she didn’t need to see it to slip her fingers into the silicone bands until the bullet rested against her middle finger and the tongue curved over her nails.

  “You turn it on and...stroke.”

  “Oh yeah?” Travis’ brows lifted and a slow grin spread over his face. “Show me.”

  No was on the tip of her tongue. Just this morning, the mere mention of a vibrator had repulsed him, was he really going to change his mind that fast?

  If he wasn’t open to it, did she really want to share her bed with him?

  She twisted the bullet in her palm and it began to vibrate. At the low setting, it was a good warmup to bigger and better things.

  Travis shifted to lay next to her. She reached down between them, staring at his shoulder, and gently stroked the silicone tongue over her mound. Her heated skin tingled at the touch, and she felt the vibrations down to her bones.

  “Does it feel good?” he asked.

  He was so close she felt the puff of his breath against her cheek. She opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling.

  “Yes.”

  “Why do you like this one?”

  “It’s waterproof, and the ridges give it a nice feel.” She curled her toes, fighting down the tide of embarrassment.

  “Let me.”

  Travis drew her hand away from her mound and slid the loops off her fingers. He didn’t even turn it off as he transferred it to his hand. The bands stretched around his digits and she had to wonder if that was just a prelude of what was to come. Did the big man, big cock myth hold true?

  She couldn’t tear her gaze from his face and the way he stared down her body. Unlike her first touch with the bullet, his was not tentative. He cupped her mound in a bold, possessive grip, resting the length of the toy along her slit. Her clit throbbed. She groaned and arched her back.

  He let his hand rest
there a moment before pressing his middle finger, and by extension the toy, against her. Gently, he rubbed it up and down, pressing into her. She gasped and grabbed the sheets with one hand and his forearm with the other. He shifted to lean over her, and his hot breath fanned over her nipple.

  Oh, yes, her mind screamed.

  He kissed her nipple and pressed his finger farther into her, massaging her vagina and teasing her clit. His knee kept her thighs open—it gave her something to grip with her knees.

  His tongue swirled around her breast, teasing the stiff peak until sensation zinged from her pussy to her breasts. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and shifted her hips, grinding against his hand.

  “Oh, fuck.” He laid his head against her shoulder and worked his finger back and forth through her folds. “I want inside of you right now.”

  “Yes!” She dug her nails into him, pulling him closer. If she didn’t come soon, she would go out of her mind.

  “You’re damn tight.”

  “I want to come with you inside of me. Please, Travis?” She didn’t even close her eyes when she said it.

  Travis shook off her grip and vaulted off the bed. He shed both jeans and boxers at once, tossing them away to land haphazardly over her furniture. She didn’t even flinch when he plucked a condom from her nightstand and ripped it open. She followed the path of his hands and gulped.

  Big man, big package.

  “You sure?” He put one knee on the mattress.

  Bliss sat up and snatched the condom out of the package before he could stop her. She knelt facing him and reached for his erection. There was so much power in him, he could push her aside and do as he liked. She’d probably even thank him for it. Instead, he held perfectly still while she rolled the latex down his hard length.

  The tendons on either side of his neck stood out, a testament to how much control he was exerting over what he wanted. Which was her. It was a powerful, heady thing to know he wanted her that badly.

  She rose up on her knees and cupped his cheek, leaning in for a kiss.

  As if that contact broke whatever leash he’d put on his baser instincts, he crashed down on top of her. Their legs danged off the side of the mattress, but she didn’t care. His mouth devoured hers, thrusting his tongue into her as his now empty hand palmed her breasts and coasted down her stomach.

  She felt his cock nudge her thigh, and she shifted until she could wrap her legs around his waist. His now bare fingers pressed against her opening.

  He tore his mouth from hers and panted against her cheek.

  “God damn,” he muttered.

  “Travis.” She lifted her hips as his finger slid deep inside of her.

  “Tell me if it hurts?”

  “Fuck me already,” she snapped.

  “All right.” He chuckled and kissed the corner of her mouth.

  His fingers left her, only to be replaced by the blunt head of his cock. She perched her heels on the edge of the mattress and pressed closer. He held back, depriving her of that first inch.

  He shifted over her until he rose up, her leg brushing his thigh their only physical contact. She wanted to spend hours touching and kissing him. He wasn’t magazine beautiful—even naked, he was a little scary looking—but right now he was her scary. Her man. And she wanted him inside of her.

  Travis carefully guided his cock to her entrance and glanced at her. Their gazes locked, and he pressed into her. She gasped and wrapped her fingers around the forearm supporting his upper body.

  “You okay?” he gritted out and held still.

  “Yes, yes, yes.” She hooked one arm around his neck and pulled him lower.

  His girth stretched her, rubbing every nerve ending as he penetrated her, joining their bodies. He withdrew and thrust once more, sinking deeper. She appreciated his thoughtfulness, but she wasn’t a virgin. As he thrust once more, she lifted her hips, and their bodies met in a hard slap of flesh.

  She groaned, and her eyes nearly rolled back in her head. Fully inside of her, he stretched and fit her better than any toy. There were some things that couldn’t be replaced. A real, live penis was one of those.

  “Shit, you okay?” His body went rigid, probably with the strain of remaining completely still.

  She lifted her lower body, leveraging her feet on the mattress and wiggled her ass. The things she wanted to do to this man might still be illegal in a few states. She lowered her hips, holding her breath as he slid from her body.

  “Oh, fuck,” he muttered.

  “That’s the point.” She grinned.

  Travis hooked one arm under her knee, robbing her of her mobility and thrust, sinking deep. The breath rushed out of her lungs as he descended on top of her. The mattress squeaked and shifted under them. She didn’t care if they ended up on the floor, so long as he didn’t stop.

  His hips pumped, long, deep strokes in and out, while his gaze held hers. There was something about the way he stared that made her feel like he saw deep into her soul, as if he could see how she felt and raised the bet. Her insides quivered and she held onto him tighter.

  “Bliss,” he hissed out.

  Her name on his lips sparked something deep within her. A sense of rightness, as if she’d been made to fill his arms and be filled by him. It was a soul-deep sensation that took her by surprise.

  “Oh, Travis!”

  A tide of pleasure swept over her, threatening to rob her of all thought and control. Her body clamped down on his cock, and he groaned, his motions becoming jerky and uneven. His mouth claimed hers as he shoved the mattress almost a foot off the box spring. She felt his muscles constrict and twitch across his back and squeezed him close, holding tight to this man who filled a hole in her life she hadn’t known was there.

  12.

  Travis stared up at the ceiling and ran his fingers through Bliss’ hair. It was even softer than he’d imagined. She snuggled closer, her breath fanning across his chest. The sheet clung to his damp skin.

  He didn’t know what to think. Sex was an itch to be scratched when it was convenient, and he never crossed the line with a client. Bliss might not be paying his check, but she was involved, and she had no idea what he was. Who he was.

  “Think they’ll catch him?” she asked.

  “Daniel?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Eventually, yeah.” The question was, how many people would Daniel kill before they caught him? Killers on the run often splintered, going on sprees or worse. It was out of Travis’ hands now—the cops had made that clear.

  “I hope so.” Bliss lifted her head and looked up at him. “What’s your plan for the holidays?”

  “Nothing, really.” Tracking Daniel had been it. Now he was at loose ends until the FBI threw him another file to look over. No doubt they were knee-deep in paperwork over Daniel’s case, since the transient murders crossed state boundaries, putting it squarely in their hands.

  “Usually we all get together at Wendy’s, but I’m not sure what we’ll do this year, you know? Do you at least get time off?” She kissed his chest, and her hair slid over his skin.

  Shit. He was a terrible person. If she knew the truth about him, she would have shoved him out of her life.

  “Yeah, I’m off now, until the first of the year or so, maybe later. Depends on when a job comes up.” He shrugged and glanced at the clock. Half past midnight. Great.

  “You think you’d be interested in going out later this week? After everything dies down?”

  “Bliss...I don’t live in Vegas.”

  “What?” She blinked at him.

  “I live in Illinois. I...we talked about that.”

  “Oh. Oh right. That...sucks. I guess I should have. Now I feel stupid.” She laid her cheek against his chest.

  “No, don’t. I suck at talking, remember?” God, he was the worst kind of man. She had no idea who she’d gotten into bed with. He’d practically taken advantage of her.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  �
��Damn it. I’m not good at this either,” he muttered and scrubbed a hand over his face.

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have stayed.” He sat up and glanced around her bedroom, searching for his clothes.

  The best thing for her was to be away from him. A guy with his record didn’t deserve a nice girl. Between his time with the SEALs and in prison, he was fucked up. Throw in his serial killer roots and his baggage was more than any woman deserved. Especially one like Bliss. She was too smart and too normal for a guy like him. He’d do her a favor by leaving.

  He snagged his jeans and underwear from the top of her laundry hamper and stepped into them. The silence had the hair on the back of his neck lifting.

  The sound of a feminine sniffle sliced him to the bone. He turned and froze. Bliss sat with her back to the white headboard, the sheets clutched to her chest and her face turned away from him.

  Was she crying?

  That wasn’t what he wanted.

  For a second he stood there and watched her hand disappear behind the curtain of hair. She sniffled again, the sound muted this time, but he still heard it.

  “Bliss?” He set one knee on the bed. When she didn’t respond, he crawled across the bed to her. “Please don’t cry. I don’t know how to fix that.”

  “Go away.” She grabbed the pillow that still bore the indention from his head and clutched it to her chest.

  “Bliss...I don’t know how to make you understand.”

  “It was a big mistake. I get it.” She stared at the far side of the room, resolutely not looking at him, but he could see each tear trickling down her cheeks. They hurt worse than any bullet he’d ever taken.

  “No, that’s what I...God damn it, Bliss. I’m a felon. Did you know that?” He bit the inside of his cheek and waited for her to slap him.

  Her brow wrinkled and she glanced at him, a frown curling her lips downward.

  “I’m a felon. A serial killer murdered my dad’s family. I was kicked out of the SEALs, and now the only thing I’m good for is as a human shield or the FBI’s blood hound. I’m fucked up, and you want no part of this.” He jabbed a finger at his chest.

  It was the rough, unvarnished truth of his life. Since the moment he’d been conceived, the bastard son of the Ration Survivor, his life was shrouded in darkness. His own mother couldn’t stand to look at him. Why should Bliss have to accept what the woman who birthed him could not?