by Erika Wilde
His breath hitched as a fierce rush of carnal lust and excruciating need flooded his limbs, along with the desire to do things to and with Jo to extinguish the heat simmering in his belly, and lower. He was granite-hard and thicker than he could ever remember being, and more alive than he’d felt in years. All because of this vibrant, sensual woman who’d taken him completely by surprise…in so many ways.
Long minutes later she dragged her mouth from his, straining and pulling against her bonds, her breathing ragged. Unable to resist burying his face in the fragrant curve of her neck, he nuzzled her throat. The stubble along his jaw lightly abraded her skin, and he soothed the scrape with a long, slow lap of his tongue.
She inhaled sharply. The handcuffs rattled, and a frustrated sound caught in her throat. “Release me, Dean,” she groaned.
Certain they’d carried things too far and much too quickly, he immediately obeyed her request. Disengaging himself from her, he reached up and fumbled with the keys until he found the small silver one that unlocked the cuffs and she was freed.
He rubbed his thumbs across the faint red marks that had chafed her wrists, and swore beneath his breath, feeling instantly contrite for keeping her restrained. “Are you okay?”
“I’m just fine,” she said in a low, throaty voice, and pounced at him with startling speed and an astonishing strength that took him completely off guard.
The next thing Dean knew he was flat on his back with Jo positioned on top of him, his own hands pinned securely on either side of his head by her vise-like grip and her knees clenching his thighs to keep him immobile beneath her. As if he was going anywhere, even if he could, he thought wryly.
While she was slender in stature, there was no doubt in his mind that she could take care of herself in a threatening situation. “Is this one of those moves they teach you in the police academy?”
A Cheshire cat smile curved her sweet mouth. “That, and martial arts training comes in handy too.” Her disheveled hair spilled around her flushed face, and she gazed down at him, sloe-eyed, relaxed, and mellow, despite the upper hand she’d managed to gain. “Turnabout being fair play and all, I do believe it’s my turn to have a little fun with the fantasy,” she murmured seductively.
Still sitting on his thighs, still banding his wrists with her fingers, she bent over him and let her mouth hover above his for a few heartbeats. Choppy, uneven breaths blended as she drew out the heady anticipation. Eyes met, intense and hypnotic, and he watched as her irises turned a sultry shade of blue.
Finally, she dipped her head and nibbled at his bottom lip, alternately rolling the soft flesh between her teeth and biting gently to stimulate and arouse. Her velvet soft tongue joined the sensual assault, but stopped short of entering his mouth. She dabbled, tasted, and explored without completely fusing their lips, deliberately driving him wild with her sweet but, oh, so erotic ministrations.
Her hands gradually relaxed their hold and released his wrists. As her mouth continued to seduce his, she skimmed her fingertips down his arms, over his straining biceps, then flattened her palms on his naked chest and brushed her thumbs over his taut nipples. Unable to take any more of her teasing, he cupped the back of her head in his palm and finally ended the exquisite torture she was inflicting with her lips and tongue and fused their mouths completely. With a low, primal growl, he poured all the hungry, pent-up passion of the past twelve hours into the deep, drugging kiss.
His body hummed with tension, along with an aching need to touch her, all of her. To feel more of her lush curves aligned against his harder planes. To find and devour all her most sensitive places with his hands, his mouth, his tongue. To let himself imagine what it would be like to sink deep, deep inside her, lose himself in the throes of mutual pleasure and fuck her until they were both spent and sated.
Seemingly as caught up in the moment as he, she shifted restlessly over him and dragged a hand down his torso and around to his hip in a slow, gliding caress that set his senses on fire. Following her lead, he did the same, skimming both of his palms down to the indentation of her waist, then brazenly slipping lower, until his fingers gripped the backs of her silky, bare thighs. He brushed his thumbs along that quivering flesh, felt her shudder in response, and without further hesitation he tunneled his hands beneath the opening of her shorts.
Her lips managed to cling to his, even as her breath came in shallow pants. Her flesh was warm, sleek, and perfectly toned. Lightly muscled in all the right places, and soft and giving everywhere else. Bolder still, he slipped his palms under the elastic band of her panties and over the smooth curve of her ass. He massaged her supple flesh with his fingers and resisted the urge to follow the crease of her buttocks to the warm and dewy softness he knew he’d find at the apex of her thighs.
She trembled, curled her fingers into a fist against his chest, and groaned long and low. Dean swallowed the earthy sound, feeling her need almost as strongly as he felt the pulse of his own blood throbbing along his dick. The urgency between them was so hot, it threatened to combust and burn them up in the process.
Hooking his fingers behind her knees, he pulled her up over his thighs so that she was straddling his waist. She came willingly, bracing her hands on either side of his head and allowing him to spread her legs wide on either side of his hips as he positioned their bodies the way they were ultimately meant to be joined—steel-hard cock to soft, feminine heat. Flexing his hips and holding her waist, he ground her against his erection, slowly, shamelessly, rhythmically.
She tossed her head back, her lips parting on a sharp gasp as her lower body intuitively picked up his tempo in a simulated act of sex. Mindless pleasure engulfed him, threatening his control and forcing the muscles in his abdomen to tighten with restraint. Pressing his lips against her neck, he breathed hot, moist kisses along her throat and up to her ear, using his teeth and tongue as he went. His hands worked the hem of her shirt up and his fingers brushed along the sides of her full breasts, eliciting a shiver from Jo.
Wanting to feel those soft mounds against his chest, he pushed the cotton material higher and ran his palms around to rest between her shoulder blades, urging her downward and completely on top of him, so close their mouths were inches apart and there was no mistaking the wild cadence of her heartbeat, which matched his own. The pearled tips of her nipples branded him, and they moaned in unison as the heat of their bodies mingled, shocking and scalding in intensity—a breathless, thrilling union that propelled them to the brink of something far more satisfying…if they were daring enough to explore the possibilities.
Her teeth bit down on her well-kissed bottom lip, and judging by the unleashed passion he saw mirrored in her dark blue eyes, along with a good dose of feverish longing, they both seemed to be considering all the intimate, provocative scenarios awaiting them. Secret, sensual pleasures and earthy, hedonistic delights that would extinguish the fire between them…until a loud, sharp ringing rent the air, startling them both out of their private euphoria.
Instantly alert, Jo jerked upward, severing the intimate contact of their bodies, except for the way his hardened shaft found a perfect, snug home between her clenched thighs. Much to his disappointment her top slipped back down into place, and he silently mourned the fact that he’d lost the chance to catch a glimpse of those lush breasts, to caress them with his hands, flick his tongue over the velvety crests, and suck them deep into his mouth. Hell, he wanted to draw more than her nipples into his mouth, and craved so much more than a quick taste. He was beyond ravenous to sample every inch of her.
The piercing, annoying sound of the alarm Jo had set the night before seemed to grow louder in the quiet room as they stared at each other, until finally she moved off his lap and shut off the irritating app on her cell phone. Slowly sitting up to accommodate his raging erection, he swung his legs off the edge of the mattress so he was facing where she now stood, accepting that this make out session was over, but knowing they were far from finished.
No, i
n his opinion, they’d just begun.
She dragged her fingers through her mussed hair, her eyes still bright with arousal and the soft skin along her neck chafed by his morning stubble. “Oh, wow,” she said with a light little laugh, seemingly overwhelmed by what had just happened, but not at all upset or disconcerted by his behavior, or her own.
Dean took her accepting attitude as a positive sign, which told him that she’d known exactly what she’d been doing, and had been a willing participant every step of the way. “Yeah, wow,” he repeated. That one word certainly summed up the chemistry they’d generated.
An indulgent grin made an appearance as she absently rubbed her palms down the front of her cotton shorts. “I guess we were saved by the bell, huh?”
Humor laced her voice rather than the kind of regret or denial that normally came in the aftermath of such a heated, spontaneous embrace. Especially with a man just yesterday she’d believed was a felon.
“This time, anyway,” he replied with a presumptuous smile.
He knew he sounded confident, but didn’t care. After what had just transpired between them it was pointless to deny their attraction, absurd to believe there wouldn’t be another hot, sexy encounter in their near future. Not if he could help it.
She didn’t deny it, either.
They’d come to a turning point that had everything to do with the trust they’d given each other moments ago on the bed. Her to him, and him to her. And he planned to take the attraction between them as far as she was willing to let it go. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted Jo—stripped naked, her pussy wet, silky, and hot—flowing over him, writhing beneath him, wrapped tight around him. In every erotic way he could take her. With her just as restless and needy as he.
In a very short amount of time she’d become a fever in his blood, one he suspected would take a hell of a lot more than a single sexual fling to shake. With a week-long break looming in front of him and nowhere else he’d rather be, not only did he have the opportunity to learn more about Jo Sommers, but the vacation afforded him the opportunity to take each sizzling encounter one tryst at a time until they figured out where it would all lead. To a mutually satisfying, temporary affair, he wondered, or something much deeper and more lasting?
By the end of the week, they’d both know the answer to that question.
“So, Ms. Sommers,” he drawled, deciding to place the next move into her capable hands. “Where do we go from here?”
She mulled over the deliberate double meaning of his question, then gave a casual shrug of her shoulder. “We head back to San Francisco to clear your name.”
He grinned. She may have opted for a sensible, practical response, but the undeniable desire still evident in the depths of her eyes left the possibility of a wicked seduction wide open.
* * *
After packing up their belongings into the Suburban, checking out of the motel, and grabbing two large coffees and breakfast sandwiches at the same fast-food restaurant they’d driven through the night before, they were back on Interstate 5 heading through Oregon to California. According to Jo, she calculated that they’d arrive in the late afternoon. If she kept up her current seventy-mile-per-hour pace, Dean had no doubt she’d meet her estimated time of arrival, despite the gray, leaden skies that had been threatening rain for the past two hours.
Nearly three hundred miles out of Kelso, Washington, and halfway to their destination, Dean came to the conclusion that while Jo had no qualms about indulging in light, easy conversation to get better acquainted with him, she was incredibly adept at avoiding sharing any kind of deep, intimate information about herself. Especially when it came to imparting the details of her dream last night.
Whatever the source of that nightmare, just mentioning the sleep-induced terror she’d experienced made her grow tense and clam up. When he’d been straightforward enough to push the issue and asked who Brian was, all she’d revealed, albeit reluctantly and with a hint of pain and guilt in her voice, was that he’d been her partner, and had been shot and killed while they’d attempted to take a suspected child kidnapper into custody.
That had been the end of that particular story, even though Dean suspected a whole lot more had transpired during the incident. But like a well-trained cop turned PI, she’d easily and skillfully turned the conversation and questions back to him. She’d extracted more information about his boring, mundane life in Seattle than any normal person would be interested in hearing, but the light verbal exchange took her mind off her nightmare and made her relax and smile again, so he hadn’t minded being the source of her distraction.
But long hours and even longer miles still stretched ahead of them, and he was all talked out about himself and still too curious about this slender but tough-as-nails woman who made a living capturing criminals bold enough to jump bail.
He glanced her way, silently taking in the graceful lines of her profile set against the darkness of the oncoming storm gathering outside the windows, at the long, dark lashes that framed expressive eyes, and her small, perfectly sculpted nose that blended into high, delicate cheekbones. And then there were her shapely lips, so soft and warm and seductive, which could be so hot and erotic and addictive and he could easily imagine sliding down his cock. The shape of her face ended with a small chin that had revealed shades of stubbornness, as well as the kind of vulnerability he’d witnessed last night when she’d cuddled up to him after her bad dream.
She’d changed into a pair of jeans and a button-down blouse and had opted to leave her holster off and her weapons stowed beneath her seat for now. She wore minimal makeup, her hair was gathered back into a ponytail, and he decided he preferred the strands loose around her shoulders. All in all, she was truly lovely, a female paradox so opposite to the hard-edged, jaded image of a bounty hunter most people conjured in their minds.
As if sensing his gaze on her, she turned her head and smiled. “Are you doing okay?”
After nearly five hours on the road with only one bathroom stop and one measly breakfast sandwich to hold him over until his next meal, his stomach was beginning to growl for food. “I am starting to get a little hungry for lunch,” he admitted.
“You’re like a bottomless pit,” she teased, and spared a quick look at the navigation system and the map outlining the route home and the stops in between. “Can you hang in there for another hour and a half when we stop to fill up with gas in Medford? I’d really like to make it that far and take care of everything in one stop.”
The woman was a relentless driver, pushing for maximum miles in one stretch. Then again, her penchant for speed was to his benefit; the sooner they arrived in San Francisco, the quicker his identity would become his again.
“The longer you make me wait, the more it’s gonna cost you,” he said, reminding her of his ravenous appetite last night.
Her laughter filled the interior of the vehicle. “I can afford it.” She hooked her thumb toward the back of the vehicle. “In the meantime, there are some snacks in a plastic bag behind your seat to hold you over, along with those bottled waters we put on ice before leaving the motel.”
Reaching behind his seat, he managed to retrieve the bag she’d mentioned and a bottled water, which he tucked into the drink holder in the center console. Then he rummaged through the contents of the sack and inventoried the variety of junk food.
“Chocolate, chocolate, and more chocolate,” he said, finding a common theme among the munchies she’d brought along on her trip. “Jeez, Jo, your snack habits are atrocious.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re beginning to sound like my brother, Cole. I’ve been listening to him nag at me about my preference of snacks since I was a teenager.”
He pulled out three kinds of cookies: chocolate chip, chocolate-striped shortbread, and chocolate-covered graham crackers. “Obviously, he had every right to nag,” he said wryly.
She took her gaze off the road for a moment to crinkle her adorable nose at him. “Judging by wh
at you ate last night, you’re certainly not a health food nut yourself.”
“No, but my meals consist of more than just chocolate.”
“And chocolate is a daily part of my diet,” she stated with mock seriousness. “So hand over the chocolate shortbread and no one will get hurt.”
He chuckled, enjoying the playful banter between them. “Those are the ones I wanted, so we’re gonna have to share.”
Beads of rain splattered the windshield, and she switched on the wipers to clear the front window. “You’re lucky I like you, or else you know there would be no contest over who’d get those cookies.”
Remembering the efficient way she’d wrestled him to the bed earlier that morning, he didn’t doubt her claim. “Now that could be fun, especially in such a small space.” He looked around the close quarters of the front seat of the truck and waggled his brows at her.
A becoming flush swept over her cheeks. “Hmm, and very cramped.”
“Cramped isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Makes for a tighter fit.” Tight, hot, and no doubt very, very exciting. Keeping the bag of shortbread cookies, he tossed the rest of the snacks behind the seat. “Ever fucked someone in a car before?”
She shook her head incredulously. “I thought we were talking about cookies.”
“We were, along with you wrestling me for them, which made me think of all the interesting kinds of positions two people could get into in a car, which made me think of having sex in a car.” Specifically, with her.
She arched a brow his way. “Have you?”
“I asked you first,” he drawled, not allowing her to turn the question back to him until he had her answer first.
