Colton First Responder (The Coltons 0f Mustang Valley Book 4)

by Linda O. Johnston

  For everything from him.

  For that amazing erection of his inside her, pumping and—

  Suddenly he pulled away again, farther this time, and she felt like crying—and demanding more at the same time.

  Was that it? Would he be the one to regain sanity and call this off?

  “What—” she began, and heard him give a short chuckle that was somehow also sexy.

  “Hey,” he said softly, rolling over and reaching for his pants, which were now on the floor at the side of the bed. “I’m a first responder. I come prepared.”

  In moments Savannah understood. He had pulled his wallet from a pocket and removed a condom from inside it.

  Her turn to laugh. “I should have expected that from you.” This man anticipated everything.

  Maybe.

  Before he could unwrap the package, she pushed him back on the bed until he lay there, fully exposed. She bent over until she could take him, still unsheathed, into her mouth—and enjoy his heated groan. She continued playing him, but not for long.

  This time, he was the one to roll her over, positioning her on the bed till she lay beneath him—and he had the freedom now to wrap himself in that condom, then press the head of his erection exactly where it belonged.

  Savannah drew in her breath as he entered her. It stung just a little until her body stretched to take him in, since he was so large and she hadn’t engaged in this kind of experience for a long time. But the discomfort faded quickly. She wanted him. Now. She moved her hips to encourage him, and in moments he was pumping inside her and she was matching his eager motions with her own.

  Please let this last, she begged silently, even as she knew it couldn’t. For now, she would enjoy and appreciate every moment of it.

  This was what she wanted.

  This was here and now.

  And it was all she could and would think about.

  But much too soon she reached the critical, wonderful climax, even as Grayson, too, moaned and stopped moving. She managed to open her eyes enough to see that his remained closed, but that gorgeous body of his had risen somewhat and she could see the tension in it as he, too, came.

  “Wow,” he said as he gently lay down partly on her and partly beside her.

  “Wow,” she agreed, reaching to hold him tightly against her.

  Wishing this moment could stay just like this—forever.

  * * *

  This had not been the reason Grayson rushed to the cabin this evening. In fact, it hadn’t even been on his mind when he had headed here. Or at least as nothing more than a whimsy at the back of his mind that he’d never thought would come true.

  But it had happened. He had helped to initiate it, had kept it going, and now they were lying in bed together.

  Did he regret it? No way. Savannah was quite a woman. She had impressed him before with her attitude in a situation that appeared no-win for her—at least not without his help.

  And so far, he hadn’t really helped her.

  But he still believed in her. Although he couldn’t allow a miraculous bout of sex to swing his beliefs beyond what was logical as reality.

  Still...

  Bad idea, maybe, but he certainly had enjoyed it.

  Wanted more, though not right now.

  He would need to be careful, though. Sex could lead to long-term relationships if one wasn’t careful.

  Long-term relationships could lead to nothing but trouble. He’d seen that in so many other people that he had minimized getting too involved with anyone. His own recent failed relationship had been short-term. He was a first responder, but that didn’t mean responding too deeply, too long, to a woman who attracted him.

  Now Savannah was breathing deeply beside him, her head pressed against his chest.

  Neither had donned any clothes, although they now were under the sheet. It was growing a little cooler—but he hardly recognized that, thanks to their combined body heat.

  It was late now, dark outside.

  He moved slightly, though his intention was to stay the night. Not for more sex, but to try to be there for Savannah during this difficult time.

  Okay, he had come to care for her. Maybe too much.

  On the other hand, it would probably be better for both of them if he left and pursued further leads.

  And maybe got the rest of the disguises he had promised Savannah.

  What else could he do to help her?

  What—

  “Grayson? Are you awake?” Savannah was moving now beside him, though she still remained close against him.

  Which caused a certain part of him to react, despite how busy it had already been that evening.

  “Yes,” he said in response to her question.

  “I—as much as I’ve enjoyed our time together, I’m worried again. Still. I—I can’t just stay here and wait and maybe be found this time. Did you get any of the things we discussed?”

  “Some, but—well, I heard about what happened to Wright while I was shopping and just headed here. I figured you might need the company.” And he needed to see her, too, out of his caring for her, his concern for her.

  “Thank you.” Her voice sounded low. Humble, even. He turned to pull her tightly into his arms as they remained lying there. Her body heat, and the feel of her flesh against him once more, turned him on again.

  But what they had done before, as wonderful as it was, had been somewhat inappropriate. He realized that adding to it now would only be more so—and they needed to focus on her case, not their chemistry.

  “Hey,” he said. “Let’s get up and have some of that wonderful food I brought tonight and I’ll show you what disguise stuff I’ve already bought. And then—well, we can talk about what comes next.”

  Grayson had some ideas about what should come next—but wished he could just whisk Savannah out of this place and...

  Hey. He did know of someplace he could potentially move her if necessary.

  More to think about, more to discuss, he thought.

  “Sounds good,” was Savannah’s reply. Sadly, but not unexpectedly, she moved away from him and got out of bed on the other side.

  And started pulling her clothes on. So of course he did the same.

  * * *

  After leaving the bed, they ate dinner. It consisted mostly of a couple of sandwiches already put together and purchased in town by Grayson—roast beef, pretty good. She enjoyed hers.

  She enjoyed the company even more.

  Her mind kept hopping back into bed with him, though they had put that behind them, at least for now.

  And every time her thoughts started back on what had happened that day in town, what the possible consequences to her might be, she forced them back on the good things that had happened today instead.

  Or at least she tried to.

  Once they’d finished their meal, Grayson went back out to his car for some additional bags, which he handed her. “Sorry, not everything is there since I didn’t have time to get it,” he said, “but you can start working on your disguise with this stuff. I’ll try to find the rest tomorrow.”

  Which meant he would leave tonight, of course. She would be alone again—with her thoughts.

  She could handle it. She had to.

  Forcing herself not to think about that, she looked inside the bags, took some contents out and laid them on the table. They included a lot of the eye makeup she had asked for but not all of it. Nor were the cream and foundation there.

  “I think I’ll wait right now to see if you are able to get the rest before I start experimenting,” she told Grayson, although if this was all she acquired, she would make the best of it.

  “I want to get some of the clothes you mentioned, too—the droopy, casual kind of things that you’ve likely never worn before—but no one you know is likely to reco
gnize you in.”

  “Right,” she said. “After all, I’m a society girl and always looked that way.” She shrugged. That was the truth, after all. She figured her casual clothing generally cost more than a lot of women’s dressiest stuff did. She’d sometimes wondered if she should start dressing “normally” but was glad now she hadn’t.

  Not when she didn’t want anyone to know who she was. Except Grayson.

  Grayson. Was she trusting him too much? She certainly was relying on him a lot. But what else could she do—at least for now?

  After she went through the things he had brought, they jokingly discussed it, trading ideas on how she could change her appearance the way actors were changed—into zombies or superheroes or gorillas or anything other than who they were.

  Their discussion morphed into the kinds of TV shows and movies they were fondest of. “So what do you think I like best on television?” she asked him.

  “Sitcoms,” he said decisively, and he was right—but that wasn’t all.

  “Add news specials to that,” she said. “And some talk shows, depending on the host.”

  “Got it.”

  She told him more. In theaters, her favorites were romantic comedies, even though she knew they were all fiction, especially the ones where the main characters fell in love and anticipated, at the end, a happily-ever-after.

  A happy few minutes, maybe, or a few days. Or even a year. But she’d married a guy she believed she loved, and who claimed to love her. And what had she gotten? A torment-ever-after, as long as they were together. Once they were divorced, she had assumed that would be the end of thinking about Zane and his infidelity and everything else about him.

  And it was, for a brief time. Until he’d framed her for his murder, probably just to get even with her for divorcing him.

  But she didn’t want to think about that now.

  As Grayson probed for her likes and dislikes, she turned the tables on him. She wasn’t surprised that he liked cop shows and superheroes, and he didn’t even mention shows with romance in them.

  Which was as she’d anticipated. Sex was one thing. Staying together? That wasn’t on his agenda either, she felt certain. All the more reason to just enjoy his company—and maybe his body, too, again sometime. Meanwhile, she would hope he continued to help her as long as she was unable to help herself.

  And expect he would soon be gone from her life one way or another. With luck, by then she would be free and exonerated.

  But until she could find out how to clear herself, the burden of potentially being convicted of Zane’s murder—and now Ian’s—was hanging over her head.

  Their conversation wound down. Savannah tried to figure out something else to talk about, but she was actually getting tired.

  Not that she would mention that to Grayson.

  She didn’t want to encourage him to leave. She liked his company too much.

  She needed his company, someone to talk to and to help her feel a good ending to all of this could—would—occur.

  Not that they were discussing any of that. Not now.

  But she wasn’t surprised when Grayson stood up. “It’s getting late,” he said.

  All she could do at first was nod and look in his direction without meeting his gaze. “Yes, it is,” she finally agreed.

  “I think we need some sleep, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she said again, feeling a bit puzzled. Why hadn’t he said he was about to head home?

  He must have seen something in her expression that concerned him, for he sat back down again. “I mean, let’s head to bed here, okay? Together—and I’m not talking about having fun to keep us awake again. Not now. But I can sleep here, stay till tomorrow morning. I’ll go back to town then, to my office, and get some work done. And find out how other things are going in town, too.”

  “Like the investigation into the latest murder,” Savannah said, not making it a question. He—they—could find out more tonight, she realized, on their phones.

  Not that they were likely to learn that way the motive for someone to have killed Ian. She assumed it had been Zane or Schuyler, but why?

  And maybe they should, or at least she should, learn all she could to make sure that potential number one suspect—her—hadn’t been discovered here in this cabin.

  Although if she had been, there’d be some activity outside, and probably inside, too.

  “That’s right,” Grayson agreed. “I’ll determine what else we need to do, then head to another town to finish picking up your disguise materials. And come back here with it. Okay?”

  “Sounds good,” she responded as casually as she could, but her insides almost melted in relief. Although she recognized she couldn’t, shouldn’t, count on anything, not even his return as promised, until it happened.

  But oh, how she hoped he was serious. Because her latest problem was that she was becoming much too serious about him.

  “So, let’s go to bed now, shall we?”

  “Yes,” she said, “Let’s.”

  Grayson joined her in bed soon after, and drew close enough to her to put his arm around her.

  She turned, snuggling against him.

  They shared a wonderful good-night kiss, and although Savannah felt her body churn a bit in lust again, she didn’t pursue it. Sleep sounded like a good idea.

  Tomorrow could be a big day—even if she remained stuck here for all or part of the day.

  “Good night, Grayson,” she whispered against him.

  “Good night.” She felt him kiss the top of her head.

  And hoped that wouldn’t be the last time, either tonight or on future nights together.

  Though she knew better than to count on that to count on anything,

  Even regarding the wonderful Grayson.

  Chapter 15

  Grayson didn’t fall asleep for a long time, and judging by her breathing, neither did Savannah. But it felt good, really good, to hold her like this with no current worries menacing them.

  Wouldn’t it be great if this was the beginning of some real time together? A future they shared.

  Yeah, right. He recognized that he was beginning to care for her too much. Once the danger to her was over, so would any chance of a relationship between them. Which was for the best.

  And that danger? When he had gone into the bathroom earlier to prepare for bed, he had brought his cell phone and checked for updates on Ian Wright’s murder.

  The media seemed to be having great fun with the idea that it was a follow-up to Zane Oliver’s murder. They suggested that since the poor, hard-working, by-the-book attorney had failed to get his client out on bail for that killing, Savannah would have wanted revenge on him, too. Or so the various stories mostly asserted.

  Grayson had seen that kind of hype and accusation before, of course. He would look into it more tomorrow when he was no longer here—and would also do further checking into the status of the murder investigation with his professional contacts.

  And now...

  Now, finally, he felt his body relaxing enough to let him drift into sleep. He concentrated on the feel of Savannah against him once more before he allowed himself to drop off.

  * * *

  “Sorry I don’t have anything more exciting for breakfast than an English muffin and jam,” Savannah said to Grayson the next morning. He was going to leave soon. She knew it.

  And he would also be back. He had told her so. He had been reliable—and more—so far, so she believed him. Or at least wanted to. But how long could he help her without someone noticing his trips to the cabin?

  She knew better than to assume that them being together in such a special manner last night would happen again.

  But, oh, how she had enjoyed it.

  And couldn’t recall ever feeling that close to Zane.

  “Sorr
y I didn’t bring anything more exciting for breakfast than English muffins and jam,” Grayson countered, and they both laughed.

  What would she do today after he left, Savannah wondered.

  For now—

  For now, she ate slowly, not being especially hungry but knowing she needed to get something down. She mostly watched Grayson, who wolfed down his muffin enthusiastically—also watching her as he did so, as if attempting to set an example so she would eat more, too.

  She didn’t, though she appreciated his apparent concern. She simply wasn’t hungry. Especially knowing he would be leaving soon. And would he be back to stay with her that night? She certainly couldn’t count on it.

  “Hey,” he finally said. “The sooner I leave here, the sooner I can get back with the rest of the things you asked for.”

  “Right,” she said, attempting to sound pleased. The sooner he left, the sooner she would once more be alone here with her thoughts, and for how long?

  They would undoubtedly be worse now. She’d assumed the cops were looking for her when she’d fled the destroyed van, but then they also had things to do regarding the earthquake. But now, if they actually believed she had killed Ian, they might focus more on finding her.

  “Hey,” Grayson said. “I have an idea. I already brought more batteries, although I probably should get even more to make sure your phone charger remains usable.”

  “Right,” Savannah said, not sure where this was going.

  “I’ll leave you some additional paper, too, that I have in the car. I’ll find you a small but powerful tablet computer, too, if it looks like you’ll be here much longer. Although—” He hesitated, and Savannah figured he was weighing the pros and cons of her remaining in the cabin while the authorities might ramp up their search for her. He clearly was aware of that possibility, too. “Anyway, taking notes on paper should work okay for now. Here’s what I’d like you to do.”

  It turned out that he wanted to start a website chronicling first responders’ achievements, both his employees’ and others’. Their actions would be described in detail so other members of the public could learn more. He wanted to explain what they did, why they were important and what went into the certification process.