by Lori Foster
A smug, very masculine smile appeared, and his gaze heated. “Have you been frustrated, honey?”
“Very.”
“So imagine how it’s been for me.” He leaned in near her ear and whispered roughly, “I know how you taste, and how you sound when you let go.” His mouth touched her temple. “And then to be here with you all week, constantly surrounded by people... I could teach you a thing or two about frustration.”
Violet grinned in relief. “I’m glad I’m not the only one suffering.”
“Tease.” He kissed her hard and fast, and just as she was getting into it, he stepped back. “Let’s cover that window first, okay? There’s enough gossip about me going on already. I don’t want to put on a show.”
Breathing wasn’t easy. “You don’t have to get home to Colt?”
“He knows I’m here working. I told him I might not get in until after midnight. He’s probably going to bed right about now.”
So they had uninterrupted time. “I would never want to interfere with—”
“I know, but I wouldn’t let you anyway.” He softened that rebuke by adding, “Anytime it’s a problem, I promise I’ll let you know.”
Nodding in acceptance, she grabbed up the sheet that would serve as a curtain until they finished the remodel. They definitely didn’t want to be seen if anyone happened to be out there.
Going on tiptoe, she got it tacked back up into place over the window, and when she turned back, Hogan was shirtless.
It was an amazing thing when a man so wonderful on the inside also had the perfect, very masculine wrapping on the outside.
Without conscious decision, Violet walked to him, her hand already lifted to touch what he’d exposed. He didn’t move as she reached up to put her palm on his sleek, hard shoulder. So warm to the touch, his muscles firm, flexing under her palm.
Fingers spread, she slowly trailed her hand down over his collarbone and into his crisp, dark chest hair, over the bulge of a pec muscle, then down over his flat abdomen. That downy line of dark hair that bisected his body and disappeared into his jeans was about as sexy as anything she’d ever seen. “You look nothing like an accountant.”
He snorted a short laugh. “You’re stereotyping?”
With a shrug, she said, “Honestly, you don’t look like any man I know.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Violet pulled in a much-needed breath. “Every part of you stirs every part of me.”
He lightly caught her waist in his hands and drew her nearer. “I’m glad.” Then his mouth was on hers, immediately nudging her lips apart, his tongue licking over them before invading for a long, hot, wet kiss that left them both breathing harder.
He drew back enough to say, “I need to see you,” between kisses, and quickly pulled her shirt over her head.
Violet flushed. “Damn.”
With his gaze glued to her body, Hogan asked, “Problem?”
“My underwear doesn’t match.”
The side of his mouth quirked. “No?” He reached for the snap to her shorts. “Let me see.”
“I dressed in a hurry today,” she rushed to explain, “and we’ve been so busy I haven’t had a chance to do laundry. So—”
He pushed her shorts down, cutting off her lame excuses. Once they got past the flare of her hips, they fell easily to her feet.
“Step out,” he said, holding her hand and looking at her body from below her chin to above her knees.
She did, kicking off her sandals at the same time.
Hogan studied her so thoroughly, she couldn’t help but fidget. One of these days she wanted to be dressed up a little for him, wearing more makeup than just mascara, her hair fixed in something other than a ponytail, her clothes better thought out than shorts and a T-shirt. It would be nice to smell like perfume instead of French fries or chili.
And certainly, she wanted to wear some of her sexier underthings.
“They coordinate,” Hogan said. “A white bra with white-and-pink-flowered panties.” He kissed her temple, her jaw, while opening the back closure on her bra and taking it off her.
“You’re far too good at that.”
“Shh.” His large, rough hands held both her breasts, softly kneading while his mouth played over her skin.
Violet closed her eyes to the overwhelming sensations of being touched and kissed with the knowledge of what was to come.
No more frustration, not tonight.
“God, you smell good,” he whispered, making her rethink the perfume. Sliding an arm around her back, he brought her up so he could nuzzle her breasts.
In an agony of anticipation, she waited, her body on fire, and finally, finally, his mouth reached her nipple, his soft tongue laving, circling, and then he closed his firm lips around her, drawing her into the incredible wet heat of his mouth.
Groaning, Violet sank her fingers into his hair, keeping him right there. She felt the rhythmic pull of his mouth all the way to her womb.
While he suckled on her nipple, he also stroked her behind, squeezing each cheek, fondling her over her panties, then suddenly sliding his big hand into her panties, against her bare skin.
Arching forward even more, she heard him murmur husky encouragement as he touched her from behind, his fingers hot, a little rough, unhesitating in their exploration. He idly traced her sex, each pass opening her more, easing the way. Then he pressed a finger in.
A raw groan tore from her throat. She’d been waiting so long, forever it seemed, that she needed him now, right this second. He continued the alternate touches, lightly, then deep, tormenting her until she said, “Hogan, please...”
Taking away those amazing fingers, he whispered, “You’re already wet,” and went to a knee to strip her panties off her. He looked at her, completely naked, and slowly kissed his way up her body, starting with her inner thighs, her hip bones, her stomach, ribs and each breast, until he stood. With his gaze on her breasts, he reached for his zipper.
“Let me.” Pretty please. She’d thought about it so many times, pictured the scenario in her mind until she couldn’t wait to get him naked.
Hands shaking, Violet reached out, but instead of unfastening his jeans, she stroked the solid erection straining against the denim.
He put his head back, his hands tight at his sides.
Nice as it was to see him like this, impatience drove her.
Violet kissed his throat, lightly bit his shoulder and deftly opened the snap. After slowly sliding down the zipper, she reached into his boxers and closed her hand around his pulsing shaft.
Hogan breathed deeper. Then, his forehead to hers, he watched her stroking him.
He felt big in her hand, exciting her unbearably. She brought her thumb up and over the head, felt the warm slippery droplet there and heard his choked sound of suffering.
“I won’t last,” he groaned. “Not if you keep doing that.” His hand covered hers, tightening for only a moment before he pulled her away. After a few strained breaths, he smiled at her. “You still have those condoms?”
“Yes.” Bare assed and not caring, she hurried over to where she’d left her purse by the stairs. “I’m also on the pill, so you don’t have to worry.”
“The back of you is as beautiful as the front.”
“Is that so?” She put a little more sass into her walk and heard him laugh.
It was an awesome thing to be with a man who turned her on like no other, drew her admiration as a dad, shared her work ethic and made her laugh. Those things, she decided, were a perfect combo.
This time when she turned, a condom in hand, Hogan stood completely stripped, his shoulders against the wall, his hands lax at his sides, one leg bent.
Lord have mercy.
She stopped and just stared.
He wasn’t a muscular hulk, but rather naturally strong, his body lean and hard from everyday work and probably a generous donation from an excellent gene pool. Much as she wanted him, she could be happy to look at him for an hour.
Eyes hot, Hogan smiled at her. “Don’t go shy on me now, honey. If I don’t have you soon, I’m a goner.”
She knew just what he meant. “Death from lust?”
“Something like that.”
“You are an incredibly gorgeous man, Hogan.” She couldn’t keep her gaze off him, looking him over from his wide shoulders and well-developed arms, his hairy chest to narrower hips. He was fully erect, his strong legs casually braced apart. Even his feet looked sexy to her. “I’ve been thinking about this since the day I met you.”
“Hussy,” he teased, then searched her face. “You hid it well. More often than not, I thought you disliked me.”
“I disliked things you did. A lot.” She licked her lips. “But I still wanted you.”
“What things?”
She waved the hand holding the condoms. “The way you looked at women, sometimes with contempt, how you chased after everything in a skirt.”
He didn’t deny the accusation, saying only, “We barely knew each other then.”
Shrugging, she stepped close and looked up at him. “Maybe even then I was jealous. Maybe,” she whispered, “since I’d wanted you at first sight, it burned my butt a little that you ignored me.”
“You know why I...” Hogan shook his head. “Let’s not go there, okay?” He held out a hand.
Because she’d once dated Jason? Was that the biggest reason he’d ignored her? She didn’t want anything to ruin the moment, so she didn’t press him.
As he rolled on the condom, she touched him, lightly holding his testicles, kissing his biceps, breathing in the rich, masculine scent of him.
“You’re playing with fire.” He abruptly turned her against the wall, and his mouth took hers, the kiss consuming even as he stroked her left thigh, lifting it high against his hip. With his other hand, he readied her.
Violet could have told him that it wasn’t necessary; she was so close to the edge, she only wanted to feel him, all of him.
She wanted to feel him deep inside her.
Maybe he was the same because he growled, “I can’t wait, honey. Tell me you’re ready.”
Eyes heavy and body burning, she whispered, “I’ve been ready for a month.”
He smiled against her cheek. “I love your country accent, especially when you’re hot and bothered. It’s even more pronounced.”
Deliberately drawling her words, Violet said, “Then how ’bout you get on with it, darlin’?”
“Hell of an idea.” He opened her with his fingers, guided himself to her, and after slowly gliding against her, ensuring they were both slick, he filled her with one long, firm thrust.
She cried out, her fingertips digging into his shoulders.
He groaned, crushing closer against her.
For a minute, they stayed like that, relishing the newness of it and, at least for Violet, the rightness of it, too.
“Hold on to me.” Hogan hooked both her knees in his elbows and lifted her against him, opening her legs wide, supporting her weight with his arms.
He was so deep that Violet couldn’t seem to catch a breath, but she didn’t care. She kept her arms wrapped around his neck, thrilled when he kissed her again, excited even more as he began a slow, steady rhythm while also moving her against him with his hands. She tightened around him, squeezing him inside her, and heard his broken groan of pleasure.
Between her legs she felt an answering rush of heat and dampness. She knew he felt it, too, and her skin heated and tingled, every inch of her body so sensitized that she already strained for release.
Hogan seemed in less of a hurry, content to kiss her lazily, touch her, fill her while riding so easily against her... That damned alpha male control made her a little insane and she tried to encourage him to haste with her own movements.
She wanted it harder, deeper.
Faster.
“Not yet,” he whispered against her mouth, pressing in all the way, grinding against her, then withdrawing until he almost left her, only to slowly sink in again. “Not just yet.”
She tried to stay with him, she really did. But the pressure was building, twisting inside her. “Hogan.”
“Easy,” he whispered. “Easy, Violet. Let it last.”
On a shattered breath, she gasped, “I can’t,” and then she was coming, her whole body taut, twisting, her head back against the wall as she cried out with the intense sensations clenching inside her.
She vaguely felt Hogan’s surprise, then heard his deep guttural groan, and finally, as he lost control, she got what she wanted.
Just as her climax had started to fade, he drove into her hard and fast and brought her right back there with him again. She locked her ankles around the small of his back, her fingers behind his neck, and trusted him to keep them both upright during the release.
11
BECAUSE NATHAN KNEW her schedule well, he realized right away that something was off. Brooklin hadn’t come out to the porch to read early evening, as she so often did. But more than that, her lights hadn’t gone off at ten, as per her usual pattern. In fact, damn near every light in her house blazed.
He’d gotten home late and had expected to see her house dark and quiet, except for the porch light she always left on.
Tonight was different.
He was beat, a hot shower and a soft bed uppermost in his mind. At least until he’d seen her house and felt the uneasiness. Through much of his life he’d learned to never discount his instincts. They’d served him well in SWAT—for the most part. Clearbrook was quieter, calmer, but still, occasions arose where he had to trust those internal alarms.
For only a moment he argued with himself about all the reasons why Brooklin might still be up. A party? Doubtful.
A date? Hell, he hoped not.
Trouble? That seemed his best guess, so he headed over to her porch, cutting across the lawns instead of going out to the sidewalk and up her walkway.
They were on friendlier terms now, but she hadn’t let him kiss her good-night after their “date,” which wasn’t much of a date since she’d insisted on buying her own food and they’d only gone to Screwy Louie’s, sitting with other neighbors and indulging nothing more than very casual conversation. But it was a start, never mind that they hadn’t really seen each other since.
Through the drawn blinds, he saw no shadows. So she wasn’t moving around? Maybe she’d gone out and hadn’t returned yet, and she’d left on the lights so she, a woman alone, wouldn’t be entering a dark house. It was late, after eleven, but with all those lights on, she wasn’t likely to be asleep.
To hell with it. He’d rather apologize for bothering her than to ignore her if she needed him.
He knocked, then waited.
No answer.
He stewed a minute more, but his instincts insisted something was off. Pulling out his cell, he called her.
On the very first ring, she answered in a whisper. “Hello?”
Even with her voice so soft, he heard the uncertainty. “Brooklin? It’s Nathan.”
With less of a whisper, she asked, “How’d you get my number?”
She didn’t exactly sound angry, but definitely thrown off. “You left it with the boutique and their books were open and I saw it.”
Still very distracted, she said, “Oh God. I’ll have to talk to them about that.”
Now that she spoke more normally, he heard it in her voice. Something was definitely wrong. “I already did. I told Phillis, the girl that works the day shift, that it was a terrible practice and she promised not to let it happen again.”
After a slight hesitation, she said, “Thank you.”
By the second, Nathan grew more concerned. “Let me in.”
That perked her up. “What?”
“I knocked, but you didn’t answer the door. Let me in.”
The curtain on the small rectangular door window moved, and one eye peeked out. Then both eyes. She frowned.
He heard the locks clicking—multiple locks—and finally she cracked the door open enough to say, “What are you doing out there?”
“Checking on you.” Trying to look as casual as a very horny, overly protective man could, Nathan propped a shoulder on the door frame and didn’t make a move to enter. “Everything okay in there, Brooklin?”
Her eyes narrowed. The knuckles on the hand holding the door turned white. “Why do you ask?”
“Your lights were on,” he explained gently. “And now, seeing you, I know you’re spooked about something.”
She jerked back. “No. I’m...fine. Thanks for checking, though.”
When she started to close him out, Nathan stopped her with one hand flattened on the door. “Okay, here’s the thing.” Damn, he didn’t want it to happen this way, didn’t want to insist and force his way in, but in his gut, he felt she needed him. “I’m not just an interested guy, you know? I’m also the sheriff. And as the sheriff, I can tell that something is wrong. You can’t ask me to ignore that.”
To his surprise, she accepted his explanation. The door widened a little more, enough for him to press in, and so he did.
Clearly that hadn’t been her intent because she just stared up at him. She’d probably hoped for more of a conversation, not an invasion.
Trying to make it easier, he smiled and said, “Hi.”
She blinked. “Hi.” Looking around her own house as if unsure of what to do, she said, “Everything really is fine, I promise.”
Needing to touch her, Nathan cupped the side of her neck. “Okay, now this is just the interested guy part of me. Sorry that you’re getting hit with both tonight. But, Brooklin, I know you. Not as well as I’d like to, but well enough to know you’re jumpy.” He, too, glanced around the house. “Since you’re not the hysterical type, I’m concerned.”
