THE UNLIKELY BODYGUARD

by Amy J. Fetzer

  Gabe leaned down, his voice dark with deadly promise. "Like I said, touch what's mine and you're a dead man."

  Murdock clutched his bleeding nose and waved, understanding. Gabe walked away, fury still singing through him. He couldn't call in a favor and have Murdock arrested. He had no proof, only running on instinct and the word of a few snitches. What if she'd been there when they had? They would have roughed her up till she'd given them her journal. She would have, he thought, and then where would Daniel be? Daniel, the one man who'd put his faith in Gabe, would be ruined. He quickened his steps, the only thought racing through his head was that he needed to hold Calli.

  Calli strolled, pretending to shop, her gaze flicking between the door and the wide windows. Her palms sweat and minutes ticked by. Where was he? Was he hurt? The P.A. system crackled and Calli flinched as the manager announced they were closing. Distractedly, she bought a roll of mints, noticing her cash supply was nearly gone. A courier would deliver her traveler's checks to the post office tomorrow, she thought reassuringly. She walked toward the door, opening the roll and cramming mint after mint into her mouth. Her tongue burned and she nearly choked when he appeared at the door.

  Relief swept her and she reached. He yanked her into his arms and for a moment, held her, crushing her against him, then tucked her close to his side. They left. Outside, he flung his arm around her shoulder and she wrapped one around his waist. It was comfortable, natural. She could get used to this.

  "What did you do?" They walked slowly and she inspected him from head to foot. He looked fine, a little breathless, but she wanted that to be because he was so close to her.

  "Nothing."

  "Gabriel," she muttered as people strolled past. "You were fighting."

  "No, I wasn't." His look was as innocent as a man with the nickname of Angel could get.

  She wasn't fooled and caught his right hand, holding it up. His knuckles were red. She gave him an impatient look.

  "It was just a warning."

  "How do you know this person was the one who let the horses out?"

  He stopped and stared down at her and couldn't tell her his sources had informed him. That he'd suspected Murdock was still around and when Gabe had seen him leave the restaurant across the street, he'd had to clarify a few things.

  "He confessed."

  "Before or after you punched him?"

  "Will you believe me when I say it was self-defense?"

  "Yes," came without hesitation. That she trusted his word gave Gabe a strange feeling in the vicinity of his heart. "Now relax," she said as her hand moved over his chest, fingers mapping the hard indentations. Her touch, he decided, would never relax him. "I know just the thing to do it." Suddenly she wiggled out from under his arm, grabbed his hand and pulled him toward a movie theater. She slapped the last of her cash on the counter for tickets and when he looked as if he would fight her, she wiggled her brows and whispered, "We can neck."

  His grin said he would hold her to that.

  "Popcorn's on you, though, I'm completely broke till tomorrow."

  Gabe shelled out for whatever she wanted and, juggling buckets of popcorn and a couple of sodas, she chose the perfect seat, in the back in the dark. The movie started. Gabe could have cared less. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in a theater, and in the shadows and lights of the screen, he stared at her. She was like a kid, eating popcorn with gusto, sipping her drink.

  "You're staring again," she said without looking at him.

  "If your hand misses that bucket again, I'll do more than stare."

  She looked at him, smiling in the dark, and she leaned closer, catching his hand and drawing his arm around her shoulder. She tipped her head, cupped his strong jaw and kissed him.

  He groaned darkly and her hand slid down his chest to the band of his jeans, then lower. She cupped the hard length of him hidden in faded blue denim, fingertips shaping him, and Gabe ground his teeth and caught her wrist, pulling her hand back up. He distracted her by deepening his kiss, his tongue circling the shape of her lips, then plunging deep inside. She moaned softly, a tiny purr, and Gabe thought he'd never heard such an arousing sound. Calli's pleasure was his only thought. He kissed her, pouring the feelings he suppressed when he first spotted Murdock, heard the bastard talk about her like she was some roadhouse tramp. He'd wanted to pound the man into the gravel right there, but then he thought of this woman and he'd calmed. Just her image redirected his anger and Gabe tightened his hold and kissed her and kissed her, his desire multiplying, his mouth a hard slash across hers. The arm of the chair was the only thing keeping her from crawling onto his lap.

  "I haven't necked in a theater since I was seventeen," she said, pulling back for a breath.

  "I've never done it." He nibbled at her neck, his hand on her bare thigh where her yellow skirt rode up.

  "Oooh, a virgin, huh? That's something." Her fingers sank into his hair. A couple a few rows down told them to hush. And Gabe smiled against her mouth, stealing a quick kiss before letting her relax back into her seat. Her breathing was harsh and short and he knew she was trying not to look at him.

  Gabe liked that. That she was as weak for him as he was for her. He let his gaze wander over her tank shirt printed with tiny white flowers on yellow, to the hip-hugging skirt and tanned legs. Without looking, he knew her toes were painted. She was incredibly feminine, he thought, yet unintentionally. It was an allure all by itself. Shifting in his seat, he focused on the movie, aching to taste more than her mouth. The bulge in his jeans strained and Gabe swore softly. Calli laughed, a tiny satisfied sound, and he nudged her.

  When the movie ended, Gabe was in no better shape than before. As they left the theater, she paused and nodded to the rest room. Gabe waited and she came out in less than a minute, a light flush to her skin. A mischievous glint in her eyes. She was up to something. He wrapped his arm around her, smiling at her, then a couple of attendants. Hesitantly, they smiled back. Gabe drew Calli tightly against him. He was happy, and it surprised the hell out of him.

  "Home?"

  That struck him as odd, that she would say that. Home. He never thought he would hear a woman call his run-down dirt ranch "home."

  "Yeah." He kissed her for it, for making him feel good inside, deep inside, for the first time in years. He liked the feeling, didn't want to lose its headiness by thinking beyond this instance. They were in the truck and tooling out of town in minutes. It was pitch-black, the moon the only glow on the long drive toward the ranch.

  Calli was close to him, but not touching. He forced himself to focus on the road, but she smelled sweet and he was aware of every inch of her compact body beside him. He imagined her in his bed, naked and plush and damp with sweat, calling his name in that breathless way she did when she was aroused. His groin throbbed painfully. Then she touched his arm, sliding her hand to his wrist, pulling it from the wheel. He glanced at her and expected her to loop it around her shoulders.

  Instead, she brought his hand to her thigh.

  "Cal?"

  "Ever done anything daring, Gabe?" she whispered. Her seductive tone made him ache.

  He stole another glance. And she pushed his hand deeper beneath her skirt.

  And Gabe touched her softness. She was naked.

  He choked and slammed on the brakes, angling the truck to the side of the road. He gripped the wheel, breathing heavy. She threw the gear into park and turned off the engine. The silence was crisp with tension.

  "Calli, don't do this."

  He felt raw and hungry. He couldn't take it. That was why she was in and out of the rest room so quickly. She'd intended to do this. Good Lord. If he'd known she'd walked within two feet of him without a stitch on underneath he would have found the nearest alley and taken her. Fast and quick. A hot tremor racked through him and Gabe didn't think he had the strength left to breathe or speak. Her shadow flickered against the windshield and he felt rather than saw her crawl to her knees. Still he didn't move, did
n't look at her. He was going to snap in two if he did.

  She grasped his hand and drew it beneath her skirt, between her thighs, letting him feel how wet and hot she was.

  Oh, no, Gabe thought. He was going to come apart.

  She pushed into his fingers and called his name.

  Gabe twisted and fell back against the door. She scooted closer, her hands riding up his thighs from his knees and covering his hardness. The air locked in his lungs. She shaped him, outlining him with a deep, hungry touch. Then she loosened a button.

  "What are you doing to me, Cal?"

  "Tempting you over the edge," she whispered.

  Gabe grit his teeth and gripped the back of the seat. The sound of his zipper opening mixed with his hard breathing. He should stop her, but he couldn't.

  "Look at me," she called softly, and he did, slowly lifting his gaze to hers. She slipped her hand inside his jeans. He was bare and she filled her palm with his warmth.

  "Oh, Gabriel," she breathed. "You're so hard for me."

  He looked at her from hooded eyes. "Baby, I'm always hard for you."

  Satisfaction curved her mouth as she slid her fingers over the smooth tip of him. He inhaled sharply, his hands snaking out to catch her wrists and hold her back. Her gaze lowered to his open jeans, to his arousal barely visible. She brought her gaze to his.

  "Tell me you want me as much as I do you, Gabriel."

  He swallowed thickly.

  The air crackled.

  Then it exploded.

  He suddenly dragged her to him, covering her mouth with his.

  His kiss was hot and driving, hungry and seething with weeks of suppressed passion. They groped for each other, her hands diving beneath his shirt, pushing it up, his hands under her skirt, grinding her heat to his. He shifted from behind the wheel and she straddled his thighs. He kissed her and kissed her, driving his hands up her back, beneath her shirt, her bra, pushing fabric out of his way and free of her. Then his mouth was on her skin, her breasts, his hand shaping one mound as his lips sought the hardened tip of the other.

  "Gabriel," she panted, her hips rocking as he licked and nipped at her plump breasts, raked his teeth over the soft underside, then drew one hard peak deep into the heat of his mouth. He sucked, his tongue circling, and he gave attention to its mate until she was heaving and damp. His fingertips dug into her buttocks as he pushed her down against his arousal. Her hands were wild, peeling his shirt up his back and dragging it over his head. Then she was touching him, feeling his nipples, his arms, his ribs. Gabe moaned, running his hands over any part of her he could reach.

  Calli urged his head back, grasping his jaw and kissing him heavily, her tongue slipping between his lips, slick and sliding.

  "Make love with me, Gabriel." A heady plea, lush and sexy.

  She felt wicked, in a darkened truck on the side of the road, her hunger for this man pushing her to take when he teased, demand when he hesitated. She brushed her breasts back and forth across his chest and he gripped her tighter and sank his finger inside her softness, stroking her wildly. She arched, bending back, and his mouth found her nipples again, working the tender tips into taut, sensitive buds. The only sound was heavy breathing and a soft sucking.

  The heat of her sex warmed against his groin. His jeans felt like paper, nothing shielding the burning he had for her. His mouth moved over her skin, her stomach, her waist, but the confines of the cab wouldn't allow them freedom. Gabe wanted more and groped blindly for the passenger door handle. It sprang and he dragged her with him to the edge of the seat, opening the door wide. Calli's legs dangled over the side of the cushion as he backed out.

  His boots touched the ground.

  She spread her thighs and captured him between. She ducked her head and covered his flat nipple with her lush mouth, her hands roaming heatedly over his skin. He groaned like a tiger let loose, felt branded like a wild beast as her hands slid inside his jeans, over his hips to the lean curve of his buttocks. Gabe didn't think there was anything better than Calli touching him.

  He kissed her hard, holding her tight, as if she might escape him, and tasted her throat, scraped his teeth over her mouth, her chin, down to her breasts, suckling one, then the other, before gliding his tongue down her stomach. He glanced up. She was watching him, her chest heaving with every breath, her hands running voraciously over his arms, his face. It did something strange to Gabe to know she would look at him like that. Eager, hungry, lovingly. She smiled like a cat and he lowered one knee to the ground.

  Then he tasted her.

  She cried out, the sound lost in the darkness of the desert and Gabriel drove deeply, scooping his hand beneath her buttocks and lifting her to the heat of his mouth. He felt her pulsing, her delicious squirming, heard her moans and whimpers. He lived in each sound, each movement, let them wrap around him, feed him. She was sweeter than wine, sweeter than her creations, and he devoured her pleasure.

  Calli thought the world had opened up and drained her into the hot center. She couldn't catch her breath; he wouldn't let her. She jerked and flexed against his touch, her muscles tense, and then she was falling, bathed in fast heat and pulsing pleasure. He moaned and flicked his tongue and she shrieked his name. He chuckled darkly, dragging his mouth across her thigh, biting her flesh, tasting her lush body up to her mouth. Then she tasted herself on his lips.

  "I want you," she panted. "Right now." She jerked open his jeans, peeling the fabric down and freeing him into her hand. Gabe clasped her roughly to him.

  "Calli, I—"

  "Yes, Gabriel," she insisted. "Don't deny us this." She stroked the tip of him against her softness, wetting him. He cursed softly and she felt his body tremble. "Inside me. I need to feel you. Please."

  Gabe thought he'd lose any ounce of restraint right there. Then she kissed him again, her lips, her tongue, her body rocking against him was more temptation than any man could handle. He groped for the glove box, kissing her, sifting frantically through the debris of road maps and extra sunglasses for a condom. Luckily, he found one. She caught his hand, taking it from him, their breathing harsh, her eyes on him as she tore it open and rolled it down. The thought of being inside her was enough to spoil it for him, but he ground his teeth and his shoulders tensed as he waited for a fraction of the rushing desire to recede. He wasn't going to ruin this.

  "You're sure about this?" He couldn't believe he was asking now.

  "Oh yes."

  "Not sore from riding?"

  She flexed deliciously against him. "Do I look like I am?"

  "Then wrap your legs around me." She did, and he lifted her enough to close the door, then pressed her back against the cold steel. The heat of her burned him and he shuddered, poised.

  "Now, Gabriel, please."

  In one thrust, he filled her deeply. She gasped his name. He trembled like a child, his lips whispering over her face.

  And Gabe never felt so vulnerable than in that moment.

  He withdrew and pushed, groaning weakly with every slow motion, and she sensed his restraint.

  "Harder, Gabriel—" her fingers plowed through his hair "—I want all of you—" then dribbled down his chest to where they joined. "Don't hold anything back from me. Please." He drove into her, hard, and Calli laughed and matched him, met him, their bodies straining. The truck swayed with the force of their loving. He clutched her buttocks, rocking her in a heavy flowing motion, nothing subtle, nothing left to mystery. They wanted and they took. Calli was wild for Gabe, calling his name, raking her nails over his back, feeling where they meshed and molded. Hard lanced into soft, yielding to him, sheathing him lushly and Gabriel hungered for more.

  She wrapped her legs tighter, her arms around his neck as he pushed and plunged into her, quick and hot and mindless. Her breath shuddered in his ear, her body racing to catch the elusive pleasure, then they caught it, his explosion wild and throbbing. His deep groan rasped in her ear as she joined him, heat and blood singing through her, masculine
strength pulsing, feminine flesh gripping him, draining him. He called her name like a chant and never stopped until he could catch his breath.

  He buried his face in the curve of her throat and clutched her tighter, unmoving for several moments. Gabe didn't want to go anywhere. He wanted to stay with her locked around him like a second skin, let her steal her way deeper into his heart and forget the world that moved and lived beyond this moment.

  Her fingers played a pattern over his back, her teeth capturing his lobe, nipping him there.

  He cupped her face in his broad palms and kissed her, a reverence he couldn't deny, a joy he'd never known. He smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks, searching her eyes in the dark.

  "I hurt you, didn't I?"

  "No," she cried in a whisper. "Of course not."

  "God, Calli. That was…"

  "Savage?" she offered with an innocent wide-eyed look.

  He grinned crookedly. "Something like that." Gabe didn't understand what he was feeling. Ease? Contentment? He'd never felt quite like this after sex. And as he gazed into her wide blue eyes, even in the moonlight he knew it wasn't sex, wasn't anything that simple.

  Calli smoothed a finger over his wrinkled brow. "What are you thinking?"

  "That my rear's cold."

  She smiled, but knew that wasn't it. She wasn't going to fill herself with recriminations and misgivings and told herself not to read anything into this than what it was; two people desiring each other and consenting.

  He opened the cab door and set her on the seat, then eased from her body. Calli flopped bonelessly back onto the seat. Gabe turned away slightly and adjusted his clothing. It would scare her, he thought, if she knew he not only wanted her again, but was ready to do something about it.

  When he turned back, she was half twisted on the seat, facedown, her sweet bottom in the air as she searched for her blouse.