by Nancy Gideon
“Gimme a sec.” He returned her smile over clenched teeth then finally let out a breath and grinned wide. “If I’d known this bed was so much fun, I’da been sleeping in it a long time ago.” As her eyes narrowed, he added, “With you.”
“I wouldn’t have just hopped into this bed with you.”
He laughed at her primness. “Hell, woman, you were ready to jump my bones at the bar that first night I met you.”
“I was not. I was just being nice.”
“You were nice.” His smile eased into a fond curve. “You are nice. Too nice for the likes of me.”
Her lips pursed. A devilish light sparked in her eyes. “Maybe not as nice as you think.” And she gave a small, snug lift that stole his breath.
“Oooh, naughty and nice. How’d I get so lucky?”
When she leaned down to kiss him, he caught her by the waist and rolled up over her. The flicker of alarm in her eyes was gone so quickly he almost missed it, almost, as a glow of contentment warmed her flushed features. While one hand caressed his shoulder, her other rose to his face, fingertips sketching across his cheekbone, curving along the cut of his jaw to lightly outline his lips as they stretched into a smile.
“Are we done talking?”
He grinned. “For the moment.”
She moved with him like an elemental tide, rising to meet his every surge, sighing at each ebb. Even when he kissed her, her eyes stayed open, gaze holding his, so warm and deep. And suddenly filled with tears.
Alarmed, he paused. “Are you okay? Am I hurting you?”
When he started to lift away, her legs locked behind his hips, refusing to let him break the seal of their bodies.
“No,” she whispered. “You’re perfect.” Her hurried hands adored him, from face to damp shoulders, down the long slope of his back to grab onto his butt. “Everything about you is perfect. Don’t stop.”
Rico needed no more encouragement than that.
He scooped a hand beneath her sassy behind, lifting her to meet his thrusts more fully, getting lost in her tight heat, head swirling with the musky scent of them together. He gulped it to feed his burning lungs and raging needs. A subtle whisper began in the back of his fevered mind, strengthening to an urgent demand, beating with the force of his heartbeats, pumping through his system like jet fuel, burning hot, consuming all. That hard, echoing pulse called upon something he’d never experienced but instinctively understood.
She’s yours.
Take her!
Now!
Gasping for breath and control, Rico pulled out, struggling against those primal demands, even as he rolled her onto her belly and hiked her hips high. Burying himself so deep, she cried out in surprise. Then groaned and rubbed against him in an age-old plea. He didn’t need encouragement.
He took her hard and fast, pounding to the beat of that ancient rhythm that pushed and pushed and pushed inside him. Lapping the sweat from her flexing back, clutching her flanks as fingers sprouted claws. Drawing blood.
Her squeak of pain cut through the haze of lust. She no longer writhed against him in urgency but was squirming to get away. Everything inside him roared, insisting he grip tighter, that he drive faster to that violent finish.
“Rico, stop!”
Sanity washed back on a huge wave of guilt. What the hell had just happened?
He backed off immediately, mumbling, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Stupid, stupid fool! He’d ruined everything!
Amber rolled to face him, eyes wide and bright, but not fearful. They regarded each other for a long, uncertain moment.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She accepted his anguished apology with a soft laugh. “You didn’t. You just surprised me. I wasn’t expecting things to get so . . . vigorous.”
“I don’t know what that was. I’m not usually . . . I don’t ever . . . I would never force you to do something you don’t like. Not ever.”
She scooched closer, touching his arms, nuzzling her cheek against his. Her words blew warm in his ear. “Can we start over?”
Relief weakened him, but not below the hipbones. Rico rose onto his knees, drawing Amber upright against him until they pressed flush, nose to nose, chest to chest, her thighs riding his hips.
He smiled. “How ’bout you tell me what you like?”
With that suggestion, he cupped her hips to position her over the jut of his erection, teasing her with just the tip until she whispered against his lips, “I like,” then eased her down.
A strong, fit female used to long hours on her feet, she began a steady rhythm of lifts to excite and lowers to relieve, the pace like her smile, like her kisses, robust and filled with enjoyment. Touching him, stroking him, everywhere. She squeezed tight below and teased with her tongue above, and all the while her eyes adored him. Never in his life had he felt so satisfied, so . . . loved.
So in love.
That surprising notion was swamped by the sudden force of his climax, boiling up through him and into her as her knees gripped tight and she took her own noisy release. Drained to the last drop of energy, Rico laid her down on her back, covering her like a hot, sweaty blanket, his head on her shoulder, her legs entwined with his.
“That was great,” he sighed at last.
“That was twenty-dollar tip great,” she agreed. “No, fifty.”
He smiled, lazily. “That was finding a parking place on Friday night great.”
“Long holiday weekend great.”
“Sun coming up over the mountains great.”
“Seeing your child smile for the first time great.”
Rico fell silent for a long moment then rubbed his cheek against her smooth shoulder. “Yeah.”
And he wanted to know what that was like more desperately than he wanted to take his next breath. Content, weary, deliriously satisfied, he closed his eyes for what seemed a second before he felt Amber’s shove.
“I’ve got to get that.”
“Hmmm? What?”
“My phone.”
Obligingly, he rolled over, drifting until he felt a quick kiss against his cheek and her whisper, “Gotta go.”
That woke him completely. “What? Why?”
Amber was pulling on her nylons and boots, her back to him. “That was Susanna LaRoche. Apparently, Evie and Pearl got into some sort of fight, and Evie wanted to go home. I need to be there.”
“Yeah. Sure.” He sat up to reach for his pants.
“I’ll call a cab.”
For some reason, that hit him like a slap. “You will not.”
He must have sounded angry because her shoulders stiffened and her movements grew abrupt, grabbing up her things as if she couldn’t wait to be gone.
Of course, she’d hurry. She was a mom first and foremost.
“Poor kid,” he mused, shrugging into his shirt. “She must be heartbroken.” He turned at the silence to find Amber staring at him, and stumbled along awkwardly. “I mean she’s trying so hard to fit in, and her first attempt ends bad.”
Without a word, Amber circled around the bed and put her arms around him, squeezing tight as her brow rested against his chest. Confusing the hell out of him.
“Thank you.”
Her voice was too thick for that to be a reflection on their sexy times. “What’d I do?”
“You’re a great guy, and I really need a great guy right about now.”
His insides went all gooey. “Glad to fit the bill.”
He could hear her smile in her voice. “You fit everything pretty damned near perfectly.”
Her head tipped back so he could see the warmth in her eyes. He fell into that look head over heels, forcing him to clear his throat gruffly. “We’d better go. Can’t have the kid standing out on the porch.”
Amber cupped the back of his head with one hand, drawing him down to the soft part of her lips. Before he could slip in a little tongue, she moved back, palms stroking regretfully down his shirt front.
He drove them quickly but carefully about the Quarter, tucking into her narrow drive where she hopped off and returned the helmet. When he started to shut the bike down, she stayed his hand.
“Don’t embarrass her, Rico. She won’t want you to see her cry.”
That funny little tumbling was back in his chest as he muttered, “Okay.”
Her sudden tongue-to-tonsils kiss blanked his mind to any other objections then she pushed away to unlock the door and wave him off.
Rico walked the bike back out onto the street. When he looked up again, she’d already gone inside and had the porch light on to welcome her baby girl home.
He roared away, trying to outrun what he’d discovered. Falling for mother and child didn’t surprise him. He’d been half in the bag the first time he saw them together.
What pursued him down those empty streets was what had reared up so violently intense inside him while happily inside the lovely, sweet and sexy Amber James. He hadn’t recognized it at the time. But in the dark, with the rough hum of the bike stirring a fierce rumble in his Shifter soul, he understood the meaning of that turbulent passion.
He wasn’t just in love with Amber James.
He wanted to claim her for his mate.
* * * * *
Jacques LaRoche brought Evangeline home. The girl brushed past her at the door, head down, and hurried into their little home. Though her first instinct was to race after her, Amber forced herself to confront her boss to discover the truth. The big, bald father looked as uncomfortable as she felt.
“What happened?”
“How would I know what goes on between little girls about to become young ladies interested in the same clueless guy?”
This was news! “They were arguing over a boy?”
“More than arguing. I’m glad Suze jumped in. I’da just thrown water on 'em. Dangerous little things, all teeth and claws.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“Pride mostly and some lost hair. I don’t think the poor kid saw it coming.”
“Evie attacked your daughter?” Amber stood horrified.
“No. Other way around from what I hear. The rest of the girls were watching a movie, so they didn’t see what happened. Suze told them Evie got sick and wanted to go home.”
Bless her! Amber relaxed, knowing the circle of embarrassment was confined. She placed a hand on her boss’s beefy forearm. “Thank you. I’m so sorry this happened.”
He shrugged. “Kids. They’ll have forgotten all about it in a day or two. Go easy on her.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Better get back in case the place has turned into a fight club. I didn’t think I’d have boy stuff to worry about for another couple of years. Wouldn’t you know she’d get a jump on everything.”
Amber closed and locked the door behind him and sighed, turning to tend to a daughter’s broken heart.
Evie emerged from the bathroom already in her pajamas, the wear and tear of the evening plain in her swollen, downcast eyes as she started back into the living room to make up the couch.
“Why don’t you go hop in my bed?” Amber suggested, voice gentle but not babying. “I’m going to take a shower, then if you want to talk, we can. If not, that’s fine, too.”
Nodding, Evangeline back tracked. Amber heard the faint rattle of springs and rustle of sheets. As much as she longed to provide immediate comfort, first things first.
She stepped into the tiny shower’s tepid spray and scrubbed off the evidence of her night with Rico Terriot. His scent clung like the memory of them together, hot, exciting . . . wonderful. She paused, wincing, frowning at the scratches scoring her hips, smile returning as she recalled, inarguably, the best night of her life. There’d be other chances, other evenings. His concern and reluctance to let her go sealed that promise. Soon, was the vow she made to herself.
She left the bathroom, pausing, puzzling over the sound of her daughter’s voice. Who could she be talking to? Alarm hurried her into the bedroom where she found Evie on the phone, propped up against her pillows.
“It’s Rico,” the girl announced, handing the phone to her.
How could she object seeing the happy blush in her child’s face.
“Frederick?”
“Hey.” The low rumble of his voice sent skitters of delight across her skin the same way his warm breath had. “Just wanted to say good-night to my two favorite ladies.” His tone sobered. “Is she okay?”
Carrying the phone into the living room, Amber confided, “Still a bit rocky. Hearing from her hero helped.”
“Me?” Surprise roughened into pleasure. “Good. I didn’t know if I should call, but I wanted to make sure everything was okay with her. With us,” he added a pitch lower.
“Things are fine on both fronts. Actually,” her own voice thickened, “things have never been better. Thank you.”
A pause. “You can thank me the next time you see me,” was his gruff suggestion.
“I will.” She grinned at the growly sound on the receiving end. “Good night, Frederick.”
“Sweet dreams.”
Oh, he’d just made sure of that!
Evie was all snuggled down under the covers when she returned to plug her phone into the charger on the night stand. She slipped in, and her daughter curled up close.
“I was so proud of you tonight. When did you and Rico have time to put that together?”
“After our dinner when you went back to work.” A long pause then with a snag in her words, she confided, “I really like him, Mama.”
“I like him, too,” she replied, pretending the girl was speaking about Rico when the fragile young voice suggested otherwise.
Amber was about to bring up the rest of the night’s events when a casual shift of their positions tore a cry of pain from her child. “Evie? Are you hurt? Let me see. Let me see!”
Gingerly, her daughter brought her arm out from under the covers, eyes teary. Amber gasped.
There, on the girl’s forearm, was a handprint burned into her skin.
Chapter 12
A long, mostly sleepless night on the couch was shortened by an early message. Tibideaux? What could be that important at the ass crack of dawn? A walk through the mussed bedroom drenched with the scent of fantastic sex didn’t lighten Rico’s surly mood.
His first instinct was to call, just to hear her voice and learn how she and her daughter had fared the night. Sweaty palms and achy groin insisted he just drop by to see for himself. After a cold dose of reality in the shower, he saw both options for what they were. Not real good ideas.
Instead, he settled for a severe case of no morning sex hangover and Philo’s enamel-dissolving coffee.
“Why the wakeup call, slick? You got something against weekends?”
Tibideaux wasn’t one for small talk. “Coupla my Patrol went missing last night doing a routine in the Ninth Ward. Didn’t check in after midnight or this morning.”
Rico shrugged. “Maybe they picked up a little strange tail and got distracted.”
“Not these boys. Poteet’s got a big family he dotes on, and Gus is a straight arrow.”
Gus? “The Gus from my group?” Amber’s Gus?
“That’s why I thought you might not mind coming in on a Saturday. Donny, he knows the area, and so does Trey.”
“You thinking this is trouble?”
“I’m always thinking it’s trouble. That’s why I’m still alive. I can have them here in a half.”
“Do that.”
Philo rose with him. “They’ll be here waiting.” He hesitated, uncomfortable with what he was working up to then just spoke it plain. “How’d things go last night?”
“Excuse me?” What exactly was he asking about?
“At the club, the party for LaRoche’s kid?”
A gust of relief. “It was fun. Surprised you weren’t there. Thought you and the big guy were tight.”
“Like family. Once. That’s over.”
Rico snorted. “Family’s never over. I know a thing or two about that.”
“How’s Amber’s daughter? Heard from Mary Kate that she was brought into the clinic last night.”
Rico was out the door before the details followed.
* * * * *
After the long, stressful night, Amber decided sleep was a lost cause and began to make a light breakfast. Though Evie was finally resting on the couch where she could see her, everything inside her was still jumping, the nervous energy fueling her fatigue. She assumed the tap on her door was Susanna LaRoche coming to do a follow up. When she opened it to find the frame filled by Rico Terriot, she went brainless for a moment.
“Hey. What’s going on?”
“Rico!” The sound of his voice brought Evie from the other room at a run. He went down on one knee to catch her up gently in his arms as one of hers wound tightly about his neck.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured into the soft blonde hair, his eyes closing. “I’ve got you, Angel.”
The tenderly spoken name twisted tight as Amber stood by helplessly. Only her brother called Evie that.
Rico looked to her for answers, standing with her daughter still clutched close. When he asked, “Amber, what happened?”, she found herself burrowing into his other broad shoulder.
He held them both, wrapping them up in strength and security as long minutes passed, until Rico nudged her gently, whispering, “I think she’s out. You want her in your bed?”
Amber nodded and stepped back, her weary gaze following as he moved through the living room and rounded the corner to the bedroom. Hearing him murmur something low and soothing, she dropped onto a hard kitchen chair, scrubbing damp cheeks with her palms to restore their warmth and color. He returned, gripping the opposite chair, dragging it around so his knees bracketed hers when he sat down, her hands swallowed by his careful grip.
“Talk to me.” It wasn’t a request.
