by Liliana Hart
“I want to take you here,” he said, his tongue flicking once more across her clitoris, making her shudder. He stretched her wider, joining a second finger with the first, preparing her for something larger. “Can you imagine what it would feel like to have my cock fill you? To pump into you over and over again until you’re coming around me?”
This was something she wanted to give him. Something she’d been prepared to offer. She lifted herself from his face and moaned as his fingers slipped out of her back channel. And then dug around in the pocket of her cover-up and pulled out the bottle of lube she’d found in his bedside drawer.
“What was it you said you’d do to me if you ever got me on my hands and knees?” she asked, tossing him the bottle.
He groaned and she swore his dick grew even larger at the thought. “Jesus, you’ll have me coming in my hand,” he said, squeezing the base of his cock as he got up from the lounger. “Are you sure?”
She loved that he’d ask, that he’d make sure it was what she really wanted. Instead of answering she moved into position on the lounger, propping herself up with her elbows as she spread her knees apart slightly.
“Fucking beautiful,” he whispered, kneeling behind her. She didn’t think about the scars, and she knew he didn’t see them. The desire and love in his eyes told her he believed exactly what he said.
He leaned down and kissed the base of her spine, and then he took her hips on either side and lined his cock up with her pussy, pushing in slowly so she felt every delicious inch of him as he stretched her. And then he began to move and she shattered into a million pieces.
Her head dropped down as he rode her hard and fast, barely giving her time to catch her breath as he pummeled inside her. The sensations built quickly, so she was just on the precipice of the orgasm of a lifetime. And then he stopped just as suddenly as he’d started and she whimpered in protest as he pulled out of her clutching body.
“Don’t stop,” she begged. “Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t, sweetheart,” he promised. “Not ever.”
He grasped for the lube he’d laid on the lounger and she felt the cool gel against her flesh as he massaged it into her rear passage. She was so close to coming she was near tears, and every touch of his finger as it pushed the lube inside made the sensations of pleasure almost unbearable.
“Easy,” he said, soothing her as if she were a mare ready to be mounted. She quivered beneath him as he pressed against the tiny rosette. “Breathe out and relax when I push in,” he said, skimming his hands down her sides until he gripped her hips.
He pushed his way inside her and she breathed out as he’d told her, relaxing as he breached the muscle and the head of his cock was finally lodged inside her. She felt stretched as far as she could go, and she wondered how the rest of him would fit. Her skin was damp with sweat and her juices coated her thighs, and she needed a fucking orgasm more than she needed to breathe.
After a moment, she no longer felt the stretching muscles. She only felt her nerve endings tingle. Audrey pushed back against him slowly and he groaned as his cock slowly buried itself inside of her. She looked over her shoulder to see a look of fierce concentration on his face and sweat dripping from his brow.
“Take me,” she told him, not wanting him to hold back. “Take all of me, Archer. I’m yours. Completely.”
He broke under the spell of her words and he pushed the rest of the way inside her in one smooth stroke. And then she held onto the lounger for the ride as he gripped her hips and fucked her ass with a single-minded determination to claim what was his.
Her eyes went blurry as sensations piled on top of each other so she couldn’t tell where one began and the next ended. Her muscles clamped around his cock and her pussy wept as she felt herself falling into oblivion. And then his hand reached around and pressed on her clit and she exploded.
Blackness closed in as she dropped to the lounger, and she felt him stiffen behind her and call out her name just before she felt the hot jets of his semen pulse inside her. He dropped down over her, his lips kissing the base of her neck, but she was too weak to do anything except focus on bringing oxygen to her lungs.
“Love you,” he managed to get out. “And thank you for giving me your trust.”
She rubbed his arm soothingly as she felt him soften and pull from her body, and he curled around her, his bigger frame cuddling hers.
“I love you too. I figured if I can trust you to get me out of the hell that was The End of the World, then a little kinky sex should be a piece of cake.”
His body shook with laughter and his arms tightened around her waist. “You’re a hell of a partner, Audrey Sharpe. But you haven’t even begun to see my idea of a little kinky sex. I promise to show you everything I know if you’ll marry me.”
“How’s a girl supposed to turn down a deal like that?” She smiled and let her eyes close as the sun beat down on their naked bodies. “Let’s do it tomorrow. I don’t think my legs will work until then.”
“Good idea.”
And they both drifted to sleep holding on to each other and the promise of a future together.
EPILOGUE
She’d left.
Shane should have felt relief that he’d finally pushed Doctor Shaw past the breaking point. But it only made him hate himself more.
He was a man who’d always had a purpose in life—a position. He’d been the youngest of “those MacKenzie kids,” which was what everyone in town had called them when they’d been growing up. He’d milked it for all it was worth, as anyone with three older brothers and four older cousins would have done if they’d been in his position. But he’d never been an individual in a family of that size. Always grouped in with the others.
He hadn’t become his own person until he’d joined the Navy. And he hadn’t discovered the type of man he was until he’d suffered through hell week and BUD/S. He’d found his niche there, and he’d eventually become a commander of those men. His purpose had been definitive at that point, and he’d lived for the next assignment and the thrill of doing a job that very few people in the world could do.
And now he had nothing. He was nothing. Because his career had defined him as a man, and he was discovering that maybe he wasn’t quite the man he thought he was. He sure as hell didn’t like the man he’d been living with the past weeks.
He sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the bottle of whiskey. It was already three quarters of the way gone. The bottle of Percocet sat next to him, mocking him as the pain from his injuries wracked his body.
Shaw had told him to fight through the pain. To wait past the point of when he thought he needed the pills before he took them, just so he knew he could. So he didn’t rely on the hazy illusion of being pain-free. His good leg throbbed unmercifully and the stub of what was left of his other leg hurt more than it had a right to, considering there wasn’t anything there to hurt.
Maybe he’d run his course in life. Maybe he’d done exactly what he was supposed to for the time he’d be able. It had been a good life. A worthy life. But he didn’t feel like fighting through the pain. And in his wildest dreams, he couldn’t imagine what worth there was in the rest of his life.
He should have felt something—fear maybe. Definitely anger. But even that emotion was numbed to nothing.
Shane unscrewed the cap on the whiskey and poured the remainder in a tumbler so it filled to the rim. And then he opened the bottle of pills and poured them all out into his hand. He was about to find out what kind of man he really was.
Pre-order the next exciting installment of the MacKenzie Security saga, CRAVE!
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When Evangeline Lockwood witnesses the murder of a prominent politician, the killers will do everything they can to make sure she can’t testify. Since Evangeline’s father was once Deputy Director of the CIA, he knows just who to call to protect his only daughter – MacKenzie Security.
The last thing Cal Colter wants is to get stuck with a babysitting job, but Declan MacKenzie has assigned him the task and he has no choice but to accept. Cal especially doesn’t know what to do with the quirky computer nerd who covers her lush body in baggy clothes and her stunning violet eyes behind glasses. But if Cal knows anything, it’s women, and he’s just as determined to peel back the layers of this unusual woman as he is to keep her alive.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Liliana Hart is an award winning author of more than a dozen books. She lives in Texas in a big rambling house with her laptop and cats, and she spends way too much time on Twitter. She loves hearing from her readers.
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1001 Dark Nights:
CAPTURED IN SURRENDER
Coming March 11, 2014!
Chapter One
She was taking a risk. A big one.
Naya Blade parked between two rusted pickup trucks and hit the kickstand of her bike with a booted heel. She turned off the engine and pulled the black helmet from her head, releasing long black hair that cascaded to the middle of her back.
The last dregs of an Indian summer lingered—the air like hot breath slapping against the face, and the vegetation wilted and gasping for moisture. If the weatherman was right, there’d be storms rolling in some time after nightfall and the farmers whose livelihoods depended on their crops could breathe a little easier. The rain would only make her job harder.
She dismounted the bike and hooked her sunglasses into the front of her black tank top, then ripped at the Velcro of the black leather fingerless gloves she wore and shoved them in her pack.
Her boots sent up plumes of dust as she made her way up the wooden steps to a row of identical shops. Her footsteps creaked across the clapboard sidewalk as she made her way to the glass door of the diner. She gave a quick wink to the two men playing checkers on the porch and opened the door to a jingle of bells.
“Good afternoon,” the woman behind the counter said. “Just take a seat anywhere. It’s only me working the counters today, so service might be a little slow.”
“I’m not in a hurry.” Naya headed to the far corner booth.
She moved with a sensual grace that had the two men at the counter following the sway of her hips and wishing they were forty years younger, and she tossed her pack into the seat before sliding in beside it, her back to the wall.
The trip into Surrender hadn’t been her idea. Jackson Coltraine had made that decision for her. An idiot judge in New York had released Coltraine on a million dollar bond after he’d gunned down his wife and her lover in cold blood. But Coltraine’s family had money and the judge didn’t think he’d be a flight risk. Idiot.
She’d been two steps behind him all the way across the country. Until she’d caught a lucky break just on the border between South Dakota and Montana. Coltraine had caught some kind of virus that had slowed him down. It was hard to run when you were bent over puking every five minutes. She’d been inching her way closer ever since.
When her skip crossed into Surrender, Naya could only shake her head at the irony that God would give Coltraine the plague but send her into hell with him by making her face a past she wasn’t ready for. Coltraine was in Surrender now. She could feel him. She just had to find him.
“You’re a little past the lunch rush,” the waitress said, making her way to the table. She had faded red hair and her rouge fell into deep creases of skin. Her eyebrows were drawn on and her lipstick was fresh and cherry red. She wore jeans and a stained apron that wrapped around her bony body a couple of times. “We’re about out of everything except for cold sandwiches and what’s left of the vegetable stew. My name’s Gladys.”
Naya’s lips twitched as the woman slapped down a plastic menu on the table. “A sandwich will be fine. And some coffee.”
“Tourist season is over. Last of the vacationers headed out last week. It’s still warm enough, but the weather’s about to turn. You’d be smart to vacation somewhere else.”
“I’m here on business.”
“Never seen no businesswoman riding into town on a motorcycle. You a drug dealer?”
“No, ma’am. “
Gladys harrumphed and fisted a hand on her hip. “It’s a good thing too. Our sheriff helped the DEA shut down a drug ring not too long ago.”
“Is that right?” Naya had briefly met Cooper MacKenzie on her last visit in Surrender. She was almost positive he wasn’t going to be happy to see her again.
“Don’t think because we’re small that we let any trouble get past us. I got a sawed off big as Leroy’s arm over there behind the counter.”
“I’m sure that makes your customers feel very safe,” Naya said deadpan.
“And the deputies are just as qualified as the sheriff.”
“Is it a big department then?” The last time Naya had been in Surrender there’d been Sheriff MacKenzie, Deputy Lane Greyson, and the little busybody who worked in the office and knew everyone’s business.
“We’ve got two deputies now. One is ex-military. Doesn’t say much. Looks like he’d be a good knife thrower. But Lord, that man has a nice behind.”
Yeah, that was a pretty accurate description of Greyson. “What about the other?”
“You sure do ask a lot of questions. I don’t got time to stand around and blab all day. Let me get your sandwich and coffee.”
Gladys went back to the kitchen with a swish of bony hips and a chip on her shoulder that probably weighed as much as she did. Naya had always found Surrender to be an interesting little town. Especially the mix of people who lived there. It was certainly different from her Brooklyn neighborhood and the one-bedroom apartment she rented.
Naya checked her email and sent her boss an update on her progress, and a few minutes later Gladys hustled back out with her food. The sandwich was thick as a brick and made her mouth water at the sight of it. Homemade potato chips were piled high beside it.
“Here you go,” Gladys said. “And here’s the check. The total is five, but I suggest you leave a ten.”
“Seems reasonable enough to me.” Naya slipped the photograph out of her bag along with a twenty-dollar bill. “Do you recognize this man? He would’ve gotten into town yesterday.”
Gladys’s penciled eyebrows raised almost to her brow and she slipped the twenty into her apron pocket. “Haven’t seen him. But if he’s in town he won’t be able to keep it secret long. We’ve only got the one main road here. Though if he’s a good camper there’s plenty of places he could be. He your ex or something?”
“He’s a fugitive. And he’s dangerous. If you see him give me a call.” Naya passed her card over, and Gladys didn’t even glance at it as she tucked it away with the twenty.
“I thought I recognized you.” Gladys pinched her lip
s in a tight line. “You were here before. Girl, you are trouble with a capital T.”
Naya winked and picked up her sandwich. “Being good is no fun at all.”
Gladys cackled and headed back behind the counter. “Don’t I know it. Take your time with your lunch.”
As much as she wanted to, she didn’t have extra time to spare, so Naya ate quickly and nodded to Gladys as she went back outside. The men who’d been playing checkers were still there, though it looked like neither of them had made a move since she’d gone inside.
Gladys had been right. There were a lot of places a lone man could hide in the area. Surrender sat nestled in a valley with only one road leading in and out of town. Businesses with matching black awnings and clapboard wooden sidewalks lined each side of the street in a neat row. The only anomaly was the large metal building that said Charlie’s Automotive at the opposite end.
The people of Surrender were ranchers and farmers for the most part. There were no subdivisions with tract style housing. Neighbors were spread far and wide and there was no such thing as a quick trip into town. She had her work cut out for her. And if she could do it without running into the one person she was hoping to avoid, all the better.
Naya looked up and down the street both ways and then moved back toward her bike. She looked it over out of habit to make sure no one had messed with it and then grabbed the helmet.
She felt him before she heard him and knew it was too late. The handcuff snapped around her wrist and the helmet fell to the ground. Her arms were pulled behind her back as the other cuff snapped onto her other wrist.
She gritted her teeth as the metal bit into her skin and she turned her head so she could look her captor in the eyes—green eyes with impossibly long lashes she’d always envied—and they were narrowed in suspicion.
“Hello, Naya.”
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Deputy Greyson in the flesh.”
