by Denise Agnew
“Shit!” She sat on a bench, unable to stop shaking, and buried her face in her hands.
It didn’t take any imagination to guess what Allan might do next. He might kill Dylan. Tears spilled from her eyes at the thought. “Oh, my God. Dylan.”
Then she thought she heard noises from outside. Thumping. Shouting. She didn’t think Allan was pounding on the door to the safe room. No, these sounds were too far away for that. A bang and then silence. She opened the lock box and reached for the pistol. She fumbled with the ammunition box. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. If she didn’t control herself, she’d shoot her own damned foot off.
Then she remembered the radio. She reached for it when someone pounded on the door.
She froze. What if the peanuts hadn’t done the trick on Allan—
“Terra! It’s Dylan!”
She looked through the peephole. Dylan really stood there, bloody face and all. Relief shot through her.
“Dylan,” she gasped his name and yanked open the door.
He surged inside an immediately and drew her into his arms, cupping her face, searching her with concern in his eyes.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Me? What about you? Where’s Allan?”
He drew her outside of the closet. “Lying here like a beached whale. Didn’t think I hit him that hard. I need to get the medical kit downstairs.”
Not only was Allan lying half in and out of the bathroom, sucking in one agonizing breath after the other, his face was also bloody. His eyes were only half open.
“You didn’t hit him that hard. He’s going into anaphylactic shock. He’s allergic to peanuts.”
Dylan’s expression flashed from surprise to alarm in a heartbeat. “Sweetheart, I need you to go downstairs and grab the medical kit under the kitchen sink and bring it back now. It’s got an epi pen in it.”
Terra rushed downstairs, adrenaline still streaking through her hard enough that she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Part of her hated Allan so much she wanted him to die. The other part didn’t want to be responsible for his demise.
She hurried to the sink, grabbed the medical kit, and returned upstairs at a run. Dylan already had the incapacitated Allan on his back. Allan barely breathed now.
Dylan grabbed the med kit from her. “Got your cell phone? Call 911.”
“Here in my purse,” she said as she snagged it from her purse near the bed.”
As she sank to the bed and watched Dylan save the life of a man that probably would’ve have killed them both, she called for help.
Terra sat on the couch two hours later, just finishing up answering questions while police swarmed the place. Only Dylan’s arm around her shoulders as she pressed to his side kept her from losing it. Dylan rubbed her arm, and she shivered.
The stalwart middle-aged detective sitting on the chair across from them wore a concerned expression.
“You sure you guys don’t want to go to the hospital?” he asked.
“We’re good,” Dylan said. “We’ll go to a hotel tonight. What we need is some peace and quiet. Are we done here?”
The detective nodded. “Yeah. You’ve got my card. We’ll be in touch.”
The detective stood.
Terra reached for Dylan’s other hand, loving the feel of his life force, his strength flowing into her. “You sure you’re okay?”
Although Dylan wore a small bandage on his head where a bullet had grazed the side of his head and his shirt was stained all to hell with blood, the paramedics had declared him sound. They seemed to trust Dylan’s judgement since he’d been in Pararescue. And he’d saved Allan’s life. Allan was now on the way to the hospital under heavy guard.
They’d managed to put in a call to Bryson and Emily during the last two hours. Both Bryson and Emily offered to come to them right away, but Dylan told them both about the hotel plan.
“Let’s get our stuff and head out,” Dylan said.
“I’m driving.”
He smiled. “Okay.”
His easy acquiescence surprised her, but she was glad he didn’t fight her in some macho bid to drive.
After they left the house and drove away, she fought with a reaction to bawl her eyes out. No, I can do that later. After I’m at the hotel. Or maybe not even then.
Thankfully there was a decent hotel on the outskirts of Fort Hood that didn’t take them too much out of the way. Because she didn’t look half as bad as Dylan, with his bandaged head and blood soaked sweater, she went inside to check them in. He’d insisted on paying, and he’d given her a wad of cash from his wallet.
After she’d retrieved two room keys from the desk clerk, she returned to the car and they moved it closer to the building And that’s when she started to feel weird about the one room.
Before they left the car, she turned to him. “I…uh…got one room. ”
He smiled, and even with most of the blood cleaned of his face and the bandage, he still looked so damned handsome her heart ached.
“That’s okay. I wanted you to be comfortable, so I figured whatever felt right to you was okay with me,” he said.
God, could he be any more awesome? Those tears came to her eyes again, but she fought them back. She had to make it to the room before having a meltdown, and maybe not even then.
They used a side door opened by the electronic key to slip into the hotel and took an elevator to the second floor. Once there he used his key to open the door and then went inside. After he’d locked their door, she took note of the basic room. The room wasn’t luxury, but it would do for crashing for the night.
Their eyes met. His held weariness and yet fire, a combination she’d never seen in a man’s eyes before. Yearning and need burned within her.
“I need a shower,” he said, his voice a hoarse, deep whisper.
Worry made her ask, “Are you okay? Really?”
A smile flashed over his mouth. “Yeah. Trust me.”
She answered his grin and said, “Doesn’t mean I’m not worried.”
He approached, and when he stood closer to her, her breath caught. “I think I like that you worry about me. But I’m okay. I promise. I’ll get a quick shower.
With that he took his toiletry kit with him into the bathroom and closed the door. She unpacked her clothes. She sat on the bed, body tired, but mind ramped up. She didn’t know how to find calm after everything they’d experienced today.
The sound of the shower running brought her imagination into full flower. She closed her eyes and envisioned Dylan’s hard, naked frame. Soap slid over each inch of his delicious muscles. She saw in her mind’s eye water trickling down his wide shoulders, over those pecs, washboard abs, down to…
Oh, man.
Time stretched out until she lost real sense of it.
A second later she heard the water shut off in the shower. Her mind went riot. He hadn’t taken fresh clothes into the bathroom with him, only his utility kit. Would he step out naked? She half wished he would. After a short time, the door opened and he walked out with a towel around his waist. Flimsy hotel towels being what they were, she received a generous view of his legs from about mid thigh down. Her lower belly tightened and tingled at the view of well-muscled legs. He looked good enough to eat.
He’d washed his hair and replaced the bandage on his temple with a smaller one.
“All yours,” he said.
For a wild moment, she wondered if he meant he was all hers. Again her body responded, heat streaking to her center.
“Thanks,” she managed to say a little breathlessly.
She hurried through her shower, feeling the weariness increasing by the moment. Butterflies tangled with persistent sensual need. So did common sense. They’d just survived a vicious assault. After she turned off the shower, she thought she heard the television on. After she used a towel to dry off and dressed in her flannel pajamas, she left the bathroom.
Dylan sat at the foot of the bed wearing nothing but dark gray swea
tpants. The television was tuned to a news channel.
“We didn’t make the news,” he said with a smile. “At least not yet.”
Sudden tears prickled her eyes, and he must have seen the change because his eyes narrowed. He held his right hand out to her. She reached for him, and his big palm enfolded hers, giving instant connection and comfort. She drew in a deep breath and savored his masculine scent. He looked indomitable. So strong. One tear escaped down her cheek, then another.
She wiped at them with her other hand. “God. I don’t…I didn’t want to do this.”
His expression softened. “What?”
“This. Cry.”
“Ah, come here.” His voice turned deeper and tender.
He pulled her down into is lap, his arms wrapping her up in strength and security. She circled her arms around his neck. Laying her head on his shoulder, she allowed the tears to come. Soft, slow tears that brought gentle release. She couldn’t stop them, and his arms tightened around her waist and back. She shivered, and his fingers threaded into her hair. He reached to click off the television with the remote.
“It’s okay, Terra. It’s okay.”
How long she cried, she wasn’t certain. After awhile she drew back and looked at him.
“Want to get some sleep?” he asked. Just the word sleep triggered a yawn from her, and he laughed. “Yeah, I think you do.”
Heat filled her face. Because even though she suddenly felt as if a weight had settled on her, desire also hummed through her veins. She asked from his lap and he released her.
“Will you hold me while I sleep?” she asked, hoping he’d agree.
“Of course.”
They pulled back the comforter, blanket and sheets and crawled into it. She ached with a need for the healing balm of sleep. Whatever came after that…
He gathered her against his chest, the heat of his big body pulling her toward quick relaxation. Before she could form another thought, she fell asleep.
Chapter Eleven
Terra awakened sometime later, her gaze landing on Dylan’s torso. She could see from the clock on the bedside table they’d slept a few hours with the light still on.
He cradled her hand against his chest, and she luxuriated in his heat and hardness. His hard right thigh pressed between her legs. He moved with a deep sigh, and she shifted in his arms enough to prop on her elbow. The sexual hunger in his eyes burned right through her and started a building need. She glanced down and saw the obvious evidence of his erection through his sweats. Her face heated. That he could want her this much just reinforced everything she felt at this moment. He closed his eyes and gently untangled from her. He sat up. When he stood up and placed his hands on his hips, he drew in a deep breath and let it out.
She eased off the bed to stand beside him. “What’s wrong?”
He looked down at her. “I vowed to keep my hands off you. I’m not going to pressure you into anything when today we could’ve both died.”
“Oh, God. Is that what you think? That you’re pressuring me if you…” She shook her head and placed her hands on his chest. “Dylan, I think it’s time for some plain talk.”
His eyes looked a little tormented. “It is.”
“I did want to keep things professional between us before. Because I was stubborn. I wanted to keep my distance because of my experiences with Allan. But that was wrong of me. Stupid, in fact. You’re nothing like Allan.”
He sighed. “I’m glad you realize that.”
“And I’m sorry I ever used what he did to judge you.”
“It’s all right. I don’t blame you. You were gun shy.”
There was more an she knew it. “There’s something other than…this thing between us that’s worrying you. What is it?”
He cupped her shoulders and looked down at her. “I didn’t protect you today. I—”
“Uh-uh!” She held one hand up. “Don’t say it. I know you’re not the kind of man who thinks a woman is weak and can’t take care of herself.”
Now he looked a bit irritated. “Of course not. You’ve certainly more than proven that.”
“Wait.” Understanding finally hit her upside the head. “It’s because you didn’t save that woman who was kidnapped. But that’s crazy, Dylan.”
“Is it?”
“Yes, damn it. You did everything in your power to save that woman. You gave a good description of the man who took her. You helped catch her killer. Please don’t beat yourself up about what happened today.”
“I let that asshole get the drop on me. I was supposed to protect you. If Fletch decides to kick my ass, I’ll probably just let him.”
Determination built up inside her. She couldn’t let him think this was his fault. “He got the drop on all of us. Everyone. But he’s going to prison again and he’s not getting out this time if I can help it.”
He cupped her face, tilted her up so she couldn’t look away even if she’d wanted to. The depth of emotion she saw in his handsome face tore her up inside in a whole new way.
“Terra, if anything had happened to you…look, I know we haven’t known each other more than a few days, but I’m absolutely crazy about you.”
Happiness blossomed inside her. “Flattery will get you everywhere. And I’m crazy about you. When Allan shot you…” She palmed his chest, delighting in the wonderful feeling of his strength. “That was the most terrible feeling in the world. If you’d died, I would’ve killed him myself and worried about the consequences later. The way you saved his life, now that was heroic, Dylan Westcott. Being a hero isn’t all macho shoot-em-up.”
He made a small smile and moved even closer to her. “God, you’re the most magnificent woman I’ve ever met.”
“Keep saying things like that and…”
“Yeah?”
She decided showing him would be better than talking his ear off endlessly. She slid her arms around his neck, and brought Dylan down for a hungry kiss. Immediately he took the kiss deep, his tongue plunging deep. Her heart accelerated, her pulse trying to keep the pace. His erection pressed against her, and in that moment she wanted nothing more than him inside her. The burn built kiss by kiss as his touch slid over her sides and down to her butt. He cupped her, pulling her tighter against his erection. She writhed in excitement. She’d never felt anything so right. So much heated desire as it pooled low in her belly and spread between her legs. Her breasts tingled, nipples hard as she writhed a little in his hold. When he tore his mouth from hers and kissed a path down her neck, she shivered in ecstasy. She’d never felt anything so good before. No man’s touch had ever moved her the way his did.
She reached between them and undid the knot at the waistband of his sweatpants, and all bets were off. Dylan worked the buttons on her flannel top until he spread the shirt open. His gazed upon her naked breasts, and her breath caught at the hunger in his eyes. He cupped her with a worshipful touch.
Moment spilled into moment as he tasted her inch by inch, working his way down to her breasts. Sharp, tingling heat filled her left nipple as he gently licked, then sucked her tender flesh. The desire built fast, overwhelming in proportions until she couldn’t take it any longer. They could do slow later.
“Now,” she said, her breath coming out in a pant.
“Yes.”
He released her long enough for them to discard the rest of their clothes. Stripped, they stared at each other for a moment. He was the most magnificent male she’d ever seen, his body ready for her worship. His thick erection stood at attention. The scorching look he gave her left no doubt he loved what he saw. Dylan went to the bathroom, and through the open door she could see he rummaged in his utility kit. A moment later he came out with a handful of condoms. He put one on, tossed the rest on the nightstand, and then drew her into his arms.
He spread the fire downward, tasting her breasts and stomach, peppering little kisses over her flesh. When he reached her core, he placed a worshipful kiss to her softest flesh.
She gasped. “Dylan.”
One sweet lick and she almost saw stars.
Seconds later he lifted Terra, and her legs automatically went around his waist. His male power excited her. Hot.
As they kissed he steered them to the wall. Then he touched where she wanted him the most. Drew back. Thrust slowly. She gasped as all that thick hardness moved into her. She tilted her head back against the wall, shivering with pleasure as he pushed until he could go no further.
“Dylan.”
“Okay.”
“So good.”
They didn’t wait any longer. She moved against him, begging without words for more. He thrust. Again. Again. The beat started slow, and each inward stroking built her fire until she was moaning softly, over and over.
“More,” she gasp.”
“Yes.”
He moved faster, taking her with deeper, harder plunges until she couldn’t stop begging him for more. Yes. Yes. Yes.
Until the fire inside built so high she couldn’t take another moment. The ache rose. The throbbing excitement expanded, breaking her apart as she muffled her screaming climax against his shoulder. With a few more plunges Dylan broke against her, his male shout of satisfaction ending in a snarl of pleasure. They panted in each other’s arms.
When she opened her eyes, he was still deep inside her. “Dylan that was…”
He kissed her forehead. “I know.”
And for awhile there wasn’t anything more that needed to be said.
One Year Later
“My wife, my beautiful wife Terra, is everything I’ve ever wanted. She grounds me in a way no person has before. With her I’m safe, just as she is with me. She’s taught me a lot about toughness, what it means to be a good person who is generous and kind. She’s made me a better man, even though she claims I’m the one that made her a better woman. Whatever the case may be, I’m never gonna be the same. When I met her, they broke the old mold Dylan Westcott used to live in. I have more days of happiness, of clarity and understanding than I ever did in that shell.
