Send Me a Hero

by Rita Herron

  Then he would do it over and over and over again until she begged for him to take her one more time.

  The fire in his body intensified when she came out wearing a short silky robe. Water droplets lingered in the curve of her breasts and were much too tempting for him to resist. And the bravado she showed made his chest tighten with a feeling he was too afraid to label. He stood, closing the distance between them, until he held her with his legs spread wide, and her delicate body was wedged so close to him he could feel her breath on his neck.

  “Veronica, I—”

  “Shh,” she whispered as she pressed two fingers to his lips. She took the wineglass from him and ran her tongue gingerly around the edge, then brought the clear liquid to her mouth. He watched her inhale the sweet scent of the wine, saw the pleasure it gave her the moment it touched her tongue, and saw the urgent need reflected in her eyes when she licked her lips and swallowed. The curve of her throat was so pale, so enticing, and his body ached with a need only Veronica could satisfy.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but she shook her head slowly and the soft sway of her long tresses tumbling around her shoulders sent waves of desire thrumming through him. He looked toward the window where the gray sky had begun showering the earth with light snowflakes.

  “It’s snowing,” he said in an effort to divert his mind.

  “It’s beautiful,” Veronica whispered, not once tearing her gaze from his.

  “No, you are.”

  A slow smile spread on her mouth. The hunger in his body grew at the sight. Veronica finger combed a lock of his hair off his forehead, and the shy gesture seemed so intimate he knew he could never let her go. Even if she wanted him to.

  “I was so worried about you,” he finally said.

  She closed her eyes and leaned against him, and he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m okay now. As long as you’re here.”

  He wound a strand of her beautiful hair around his finger, resisting the temptation to dig his fingers in the long locks. His chest ached with the fear he’d felt earlier. He needed to forget his own needs, though, and take care of her. “Are you hungry?”

  He felt her soft laughter against his chest.

  “I meant for food. There’s a pizza in the oven.”

  She looked into his eyes, her face serious. “Do you always take care of your…cases so well?”

  He swallowed against the sudden rise of emotion in his throat. “You’re more than a case and you know it.”

  Her gaze locked with his. Then she smiled, slow and sweet, and spoke so softly he could barely hear her. “I think we’d better have the pizza.”

  He laughed and hand in hand they walked to the kitchen. He carried their wine and she took their plates to the den where they sat down on the floor in front of the coffee table. As Veronica sank her teeth into the gooey cheese, he ate his own slice, barely tasting the rich sauce. She smiled and licked her fingertips, and he sipped his wine, his heart hammering in his chest.

  “This is nice,” Veronica said quietly.

  “What? The pizza?”

  “No, being here…with you. Just relaxing.” She ran her finger along the rim of her glass, and he downed his wine. “It feels so normal, so peaceful.”

  He tipped her chin up with his thumb and wiped a crumb from the corner of her mouth. “It’s okay to feel that way. Things have been difficult for you.”

  She shook her head. “It seems my whole life has been hard.”

  He forced her to look into his eyes. “It won’t be forever, Veronica. I promise you.” He wanted to reassure her, to let her know she had solace from her troubles for a while. But when he lowered his mouth and tasted the tangy wine mixed with Veronica’s sweetness, with her strength and determination, he knew he was taking more than he was giving. He needed her courage, her strength, her soft womanly way of facing things and still managing to have a sweet vulnerability about her. Something he’d lost on the force. Something no one could give him but her.

  “Veronica, I need you,” he said softly.

  She cupped his face with her hands and he felt her nod against his chest. Her arms slipped around his waist and she hugged him, ever so gently, then ran her hands up his back and held on to him. She felt so right, so perfect in his arms.

  His resolve broke. He captured her mouth in a kiss, his lips devouring everything she offered, his mind a million miles from work. His soul floated in a space it had never been before, mingling and joining with her every breath.

  Then she inhaled and the soft curve of her breasts swelled, her nipples pushing taut against the silky fabric, and he grabbed her to him with a need that he could longer hide or deny. “Veronica, if you want me to stop—”

  “I don’t.”

  Relieved, he frantically lowered his head and ravished her sweetness, inhaled the soft scent of her soap and tasted the wine and the need in her own urgent mouth as she opened for him. She grasped at his arms and he felt his muscles clench at her seeking hands. Her mouth felt warm and inviting and he plundered the inside with his tongue until her own tongue met his in slow uninhibited thrusts. He nibbled at her lower lip and drove his lower body against hers, crushing her breasts against the fabric of his blue denim shirt and rubbing his hands up and down her back and down to the soft curve of her hips.

  “Veronica, I—”

  “Don’t talk,” she whispered. “It feels too good.”

  It felt like heaven and hell all mixed together as he tortured himself by trying to hold back. Then she dug her fingernails into his back, and he lost control. Sweeping her up in his arms, he carried her to the bedroom, kicking off his shoes as he went, nibbling at her neck and the soft shell of her ear until she writhed in his arms and tugged at his shirt. She pulled it loose and covered his chest with the palms of her hands, raking her fingernails across his hard nipples until he thought he was going to burst from the pleasure.

  Still, he forced himself to pause, to drink in the moment when he would see her naked before him. She kicked off her shoes, and he grinned. Easing her to the floor, he met her gaze and read the urgent hunger, and his vow to go slow evaporated like ice on a hot August day. He shoved her robe aside, revealing the creamy mounds of her full breasts, and she moaned and pushed his own shirt over his shoulders, smiling wickedly when it dropped to the floor.

  She kissed the base of his throat while he covered her breasts with his hands. Then he squeezed and rolled her nipples with his thumbs until he felt her pushing herself against him and knew she was hot and aching for more. Gently he eased her robe to the floor. Pausing in awe, he drew in a harsh breath as his eyes took in her small waist, her bare torso, her glorious bosom, then drifted lower.

  She smiled that shy kind of smile that melted his insides, and his body instinctively pulsed and thrust against her. “Sweetheart, you are so beautiful.”

  She found the snap of his jeans, and the sound of the snap popping open and the slow rasp of his zipper being lowered made his muscles quake with desire. She pushed his jeans over his hips, and her blatant perusal of his body only heightened the urgency.

  “I can’t believe you’re here like this,” Veronica whispered.

  He held her hands with his own and studied her face. “You want to stop?”

  She shook her head. “No. Will you stay all night?” Veronica asked softly.

  “You’ll have to kick me out,” he said, taking her mouth again and lowering her to the bed. He lay beside her, propped himself on his elbow and gave himself time to enjoy the beauty of her lying naked in the moonlight. Streaks of yellow and bronze streamed through the window, highlighting the tips of her hair and illuminating her face with a golden glow. The soft scent of her shampoo and the fresh bed linens were enticing, the air filled with her womanly fragrance like the aroma of honeysuckle on a warm, spring day. She ran her hands through his hair, down his arms and body. He kissed her again, warming her with the touch of his hands and mouth, tasting the saltiness, the sweetness of her smooth skin.

>   Then he was on top of her, stroking and petting her, reveling in her soft cries and her pleas for more, loving her body in ways he’d never loved a woman before. Rising above her, he cupped her breasts and licked the tip of her nipple, suckling it and circling it with his tongue, then laving the other nipple as he probed her soft womanhood with his need. He quickly found a condom and slipped it on, then thrust gently until he felt the tip of his body enter hers and saw her tense and close her eyes.

  “Veronica, look at me, baby,” he ground out. She opened her eyes, and the smile of pleasure and the blatant need he saw made him pause. “You are so wonderful.”

  She caressed his face with her fingers, and he kissed them, one by one. He traced a path down her arms to her waist, then lower, teasing her body with playful fingers. Veronica groaned and cupped his buttocks with her hands. He lowered his mouth again and consumed her with a kiss that deepened as he pushed inside her, and she moaned with pleasure. She was tight, and her body hugged his as he filled her and pumped himself in and out, her dark eyes wild with emotions. Her chest heaved as he drove her crazy with his hands, taunting her nipples over and over again with his tongue until she begged for more, and when he felt her body convulse around his, he fisted his hand in her hair and dragged her mouth to his, never once letting his gaze leave her face. He wanted to see every moment of her pleasure. Then she gripped his hips and wrapped her legs around him and he groaned in total ecstasy.

  Chapter Eleven

  Veronica snuggled into Nathan’s arms, taking solace in his protective embrace and reveling in the euphoric aftermath of their lovemaking.

  She wanted him again. And again. And again.

  The soft sandy hairs on his chest tickled her chin as she buried her face against him, and the fact that he kept stroking her back and holding her told her he, too, wanted more. The danger and fear she’d felt earlier evaporated in the face of his strength, and a sense of peace filled her. With Nathan’s arms around her she felt safer than she had in a very long time. But what would happen in the morning?

  “That was incredible,” Nathan whispered in her hair.

  Veronica nodded against his chest, then moaned a reply. A deep chuckle resonated from him. He rolled her over and pinned her beneath him, rubbing himself up and down over her body in an intimate gesture that made her gasp. “I want you again.”

  Veronica smiled. “Well, what’s stopping you, Detective?”

  He threw his head back and laughed again, so hard that Veronica laughed with him.

  “You know that’s the first time I’ve really heard you laugh,” Nathan said, his face serious. “It sounds great.”

  She traced her finger along his stubbled jaw. “It’s all because of you.”

  Their gazes locked and a moment of silent understanding passed, then Nathan lowered his head and took her mouth in a kiss just as hungry as the first one, and Veronica knew the night was going to be filled with loving and laughter. She prayed it would never end.

  Hours later as a sliver of early-morning sunshine peeked its way through the venetian blinds, Nathan awoke with a start. He’d heard a sound.

  Someone was outside Veronica’s apartment.

  Easing his arm from underneath her head, he paused for only a second to take in her quiet beauty as she lay sleeping, her long hair fanned across the pale yellow sheets, her porcelain skin rosy from his lovemaking. He yanked on his jeans, pulled on his shirt without buttoning it and reached for his gun.

  Then he heard it again. Footsteps—quiet and slow as if someone were easing their way around the side of the apartment toward her front door.

  “Veronica,” he whispered, shaking her gently.

  Sleepy-eyed, she rolled over and stretched, her breasts rising above the edge of the sheet. Jesus. He wanted her again.

  Instead he grabbed her robe. “Here, put this on.”

  She gave him a puzzled look, but he pressed his finger to her lips to keep her quiet. “I think I hear something outside. I’ll be right back.”

  She sat up, immediately tense. “Don’t go.”

  He smiled slowly, then cupped her face with both his hands. “I’ll be okay. It’s probably just someone walking their dog.”

  She nodded, obviously not buying his explanation, but slipped on her robe. “Be careful.”

  He gave her a quick kiss, then handed her the phone. “Call 911 if you need to.” Moving slowly, he made his way through the living room and paused at the door.

  He could hear the faint rustle of footsteps in leaves through the hollow wood. He gripped his gun in one hand and eased the door open. A tall man with light brown hair wearing a designer jogging suit was standing in the doorway.

  “Freeze. Police.”

  The thin man’s eyes bulged, and he jammed his hands up in the air. “I’m not armed. Don’t…don’t shoot.”

  Nathan kept the gun aimed at the man’s chest. “Who the hell are you and why are you creeping around outside?”

  “I’m—”

  “Ron?” The sound of Veronica’s voice broke off the man’s stuttered words. It took Nathan a moment to realize he was standing face-to-face with Ron Cox, Veronica’s old boyfriend. The man who was supposed to be in Savannah.

  He felt Veronica move up behind him. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  “I should be asking you that,” Ron said snidely. He started to lower his hands, but Nathan shoved them up and glared at him.

  “Let me pat you down first, buddy.”

  “What?” Ron asked indignantly.

  “Nathan, I don’t think—”

  He ignored them both and did a quick brisk search. When he found Ron clean, he lowered his gun, but not his distrust of the man. He didn’t like Cox on sight. He was too clean, too polished, too whiny looking. And he was snooping around Veronica’s when he was supposed to be miles away.

  “Veronica, what’s going on here?” Ron asked, recovering enough from Nathan’s intimidation tactics to push his way inside.

  She glanced nervously at Nathan and back at Ron. Nathan folded his arms and made no attempt to move.

  “I…this is Detective Dawson. He…”

  “I’m here to protect Veronica,” Nathan supplied.

  “Protect her? Is this standard police procedure?” Incredibility hardened Ron’s voice as he did an obvious perusal of Nathan’s and Veronica’s appearances. “It looks like you’re doing a whole lot more than that, buddy.”

  Nathan almost laughed at the man for throwing his own word back at him. His anger only made him look more wimpy. Nathan could take him with one simple blow to the solar plexus and the man would never know what hit him.

  He also realized Veronica’s hair was mussed and she was wearing nothing but her skimpy robe. Her cheeks and face were slightly red from whisker marks. His shirt was unbuttoned and he’d skipped the socks and just slipped on shoes. It looked as if they’d been in bed—doing exactly what they had been doing.

  And he wasn’t going to apologize or make excuses to this weasel. Veronica, on the other hand, appeared mortified.

  “I asked you a question,” Ron said to Veronica.

  She wrapped her arms around her middle. “It’s a long story, Ron. Why don’t you come in and I’ll make some coffee.”

  Coffee—Nathan wanted to bark. Were they going to entertain this little bozo? He felt like arresting him, for…for…what, he didn’t know yet. Just for being alive and being on Veronica’s doorstep.

  “Okay,” Ron said. “You know I like mine with cream and sugar.”

  “And you know how I like mine,” Nathan added.

  Veronica rolled her eyes and hurried to the kitchen. He and Ron simply stood and stared down each other.

  “You’d better have a good explanation,” Ron said.

  “So had you,” Nathan replied.

  Veronica brought in a tray and pointed to the couch. “Sit.”

  Nathan smothered a grin at the commanding tone of her voice. She was a little thing but strong a
nd stubborn. Maybe that was the reason he’d fallen in love with her.

  In love? He froze, automatically feeling his heart pound at an odd rhythm. He was in love with Veronica. What a fine time to realize it—right in the middle of a confrontation with her former boyfriend.

  And lover? Had she slept with this turkey?

  “You go first,” Veronica said to Ron. “I want to know why you’re here.”

  Ron sighed angrily and pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up on his thin pointed nose. “I was worried about you. I couldn’t figure out why you wouldn’t return any of my calls.”

  Nathan saw Veronica’s gaze shift to him and back. What was she thinking? Did he have something to do with the reason she hadn’t phoned Ron?

  “I told you when I left that it was over, Ron. That I wanted to move on.”

  “I know,” Ron said, avoiding looking at Nathan. “But I thought once you got here, you’d miss me and change your mind.” Then he did look at Nathan, a glare that only a man could understand. “But I see you haven’t been lonely.”

  “It’s…it’s not what you think.”

  Nathan arched an eyebrow at Veronica. It damn well was what the man thought, and she’d better not deny it.

  Ron clicked his teeth. “Come on, Veronica. I’m not stupid.”

  She ran her hands up and down her thighs in a nervous gesture. “Well, maybe partly. But there’s more.” She went on to explain about the attack and the threats she’d been getting. Ron’s already-white skin turned ghostly pale. His eyes bulged beneath his glasses.

  “Oh, my God. You think someone’s trying to kill you?”

  Veronica shrugged. “Or drive me crazy. I really don’t know what to think, except somehow I think everything may be related to my past—the parts I can’t remember.” She started to explain, but Ron stopped her.

  “I know about your parents, Veronica.”

  She stared at him with her mouth open. “How…when?”

  Ron leaned his elbows on his knees. “I’ve known from the beginning. Old man Owen checks out all the potential employees before he hires them.”