Midnight Ranger

by Kris Norris

  She released his cock then claimed his mouth, moaning when he squeezed one hand between them to finish cleaning her off. Then, he spun her around, holding her body flush to his as he angled her toward the wall.

  His lips caressed her neck. “Is this too close?”

  She shook her head, the answer stuck in her throat as desire burned through her veins.

  He chuckled. “Speechless? That’s a new one. Put your hands against the wall to brace yourself. That’s it.” He bit at her shoulder muscle once she’d complied. “Now, lift one leg and put it on the back ledge.”

  He helped her move, keeping one large hand wrapped around her torso and across her shoulder as the other slipped beneath her thigh. His fingers slid through her folds, gathering her moisture then rubbing it around her clit. Pleasure billowed out from his touch, stealing her next breath as another release coiled tight in her core.

  Sam hummed. “God, so fucking wet. I can’t believe I get to have you like this. Bare. All that slippery fluid covering my skin, burning me like a brand across my flesh. I could lose myself in you and never want to be found.”

  He dipped two fingers inside her then swirled them around her nub. “I want you to come for me. I want to feel you contract around me, hear you shout my name. I want you to give me everything.”

  He nudged her sex with his cock then thrust hard, once again, filling her to the edge of pain, while his finger kept rubbing her clit. Dots raced across her vision as her orgasm quickly gained strength, taking her to the brink in a matter of moments.

  Sam set up a steady rhythm, making her body shimmy with every upward stroke. When he’d made it obvious he planned on pounding into her in the shower, she’d imagined something more primal—her ass in the air with her hands braced on the edge as he took what he wanted without any kind of romantic connection. But the way he held her against him—his arms surrounding her, his lips pressed against her neck—it shifted something inside her. And, for the first time in years, she could imagine a future with more than just her job as her focus. That there was someone she trusted enough to help shape how the rest of her life played out.

  The thought intensified the heat rolling through her body, perching her on the edge—so close to going over but not quite able to fall. She clamped her hands around Sam’s arm, digging her nails into his flesh as every muscle clenched tight.

  “Now, Bridg. Scream for me.”

  He thrust hard, flicking his finger across her bud at the same time he bit her shoulder, again. Her breath locked in her chest, squeezing to the point she thought she might pass out, before careening her over. Sam’s name sounded around them, though she wasn’t convinced she’d actually shouted it or if she’d merely yelled it inside her head. Everything dimmed, collapsing into Sam’s skin against hers, his cock exploding inside her.

  Bridgette sagged against him, her chin resting on his arm, her legs shaking. Sam’s choppy breaths raked across her ear, her name mixing in with the gasping pants. She let herself fade, confident he wouldn’t let her fall, when he dropped a kiss on her shoulder.

  “Easy, darling. I’ve got you.”

  She blinked, but opening her eyes seemed far too strenuous.

  “Bridg? You still with me?”

  She forced her eyelids apart, this time. “I hope those muscles aren’t just for show, because I’m not sure I can move.”

  He chuckled. “It’s okay. I’ll move us. Let’s just clean off, first.”

  She groaned. “That sounds like moving to me.”

  “I’ll do all the work.”

  He eased free, and she had to bite her lip to keep from begging him to take her, again. To chase away the empty feeling that clung to her like a shroud. The one he’d lifted for those precious moments they’d been together.

  Sam balanced their weight, covering her in soap then rinsing it off. He moved his arm between them, and she assumed he was cleaning himself before he placed the soap on the dish then shuffled them forward. The spray shut off, instantly cooling the air and beading her skin with goosebumps. She shivered, burrowing against him in the hopes of sharing his heat.

  Sam shoved back the curtain then lifted her out, wrapping her in the towel they’d left on the counter. The terrycloth felt oddly rough against her flesh compared to Sam’s skin, and she wondered if he’d agree to spend the rest of the day holding her on the bed, naked.

  “Penny for your thoughts, darling?”

  She jumped, looking up at him. God, had he somehow gotten sexier? Or was she finally seeing him—without the blinders of her past?

  She smoothed her hands up his arms and across his shoulders. “I…”

  How could she say that she felt as if she’d just jumped down the rabbit hole and emerged as someone she didn’t recognize? That she was pretty sure she’d fallen in love with him, again? That she didn’t want whatever was taking shape between them to end on the steps of the courthouse next week?

  Sam frowned, palming her jaw. “Hey? You okay?”

  She tiptoed up and kissed him. More sex she could handle. All these feelings…

  He responded, lifting her against his chest then carrying her into the other room. He placed her on her feet just long enough to remove her towel then picked her up and laid her gently in the center of the bed. He took the time to fan her hair out behind her, trailing a single finger across her shoulder then down her arm as he straightened, the lethal gleam back in his eyes.

  He swept his gaze the length of her. “Comfortable? Your hair not bunched beneath you?”

  “Fine, why?”

  “Because it’s about time I made love to you. And it’s gonna take the rest of the afternoon.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Sam was one lucky son of a bitch.

  He knew it. Standing there, staring down at Bridgette spread out on the bed—her hair pooled around her, her skin still dotted with drops from the shower—made him acutely aware that he’d just gotten his second “second chance”. And this time, he wasn’t going to screw it up. Run away when life got complicated. He’d spent the past dozen years entrenched in complicated. He knew his way around the board. Though, Bridgette was a whole other level of the damn thing—like a labyrinth with endless wrong turns. One he’d have to tread carefully around or risk scaring her off. Not that he wouldn’t give chase. If the Army had taught him anything, it was that the best outcomes were wrought from laser determination. And Sam was completely focused on her.

  Goosebumps rose along her skin, though he wasn’t sure if it was from a chill or having him study her. Catalogue every dip, every curve. Every tiny freckle scattered across her flesh. He wanted to be able to close his eyes and see her perfectly. Conjure her in his mind as he’d done with Gray’s ghost.

  Bridgette snagged her lower lip, worrying it for a moment before arching a brow. “Everything okay?”

  He smiled, feeling insanely free. Light, as if he’d shed a weight that had been holding him down. “Fucking awesome. You… I could stare at you all day and still find something new to impress me.” He reached for one of her feet, cradling it in his palm. “Like your feet. They’re so small. Dainty, almost. Each toe smaller than the next.”

  He kissed her arch then slid his hands up to her calf. “Your skin is so soft, and I bet you’re sensitive here.”

  He leaned down and licked the patch of skin behind her knee, chuckling at the way she wiggled on the bed. “Maybe ticklish is a better description. And here…” He smoothed one finger up her inner thigh, lightly touching where her leg joined into her groin. “You’re already wet, again.”

  She huffed. “How am I supposed to be dry when you’re standing there, staring at me—naked. Have you looked in the mirror? You’re an endless expanse of muscles and rippling flesh. Is it my turn, yet?”

  “Soon. But first…”

  He sank to his knees, ignoring the way the shag carpet rubbed his skin. It was scratchy, like raw wool, but he’d learned to live with discomfort, and he was pretty damn sure he wouldn’
t give a shit about his knees once he’d buried his face in her cleft. Bridgette inhaled when he slid his hands under her ass and tugged her to the edge of the bed, her sex perfectly positioned beneath his head. Her earthy musk filled his senses as more of her arousal coated her skin, making it shiny in the glaring light.

  “Mmm, you smell so good.” He dipped down, licking a path through her slit. “Better than good.”

  Her breath hitched at the intimate contact, and she squeezed her thighs against his shoulders as her fingers landed in his hair. Her nails scraped along his scalp before she seemed to settle with the strands fisted around her grip.

  “God, Sam, you’re killing me.”

  He chuckled, gazing up at her across her body. “I think the word you’re searching for is pleasing you.” He flicked his tongue across her clit, grinning at the way her hips bucked, pressing her nub harder against his mouth. “So sensitive. Makes me wonder how long it’s been since anyone touched you this way.”

  Her gaze snapped to his, the shift in her eyes sparking his primitive needs.

  He arched a brow. “Well? How long?”

  Her mouth opened and closed a few times, nothing but throaty moans making it past her lips.

  He shook his head, rubbing his tongue up and down her folds before pausing, again.

  She groaned. “Please, don’t stop.”

  “Then answer my question. How? Long?”

  She blinked, looking as if she couldn’t quite follow his words before pressing her lips together. “A while. A long, long while. Now, please…”

  He sucked at her clit, then swirled his tongue around it. “How long is that?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I’m feeling acutely possessive, right now. So yes. It’s important. I want to know how many guys have tasted you like this. Buried their faces in your dripping flesh as they got you off.”

  Her eyelids fluttered, but she managed to hold his gaze. “That wasn’t what you asked.”

  “So, answer both.” When she stared at him, he teased her with a hint of penetration, sinking just an inch of his finger insider her. “Bridgette.”

  “Hardly any. A few short-term affairs that never became anything when I was first in university. But, after Brock, I haven’t really trusted anyone enough to…”

  He stilled as her voice just faded without finishing, cursing the Neanderthal side of him. He shouldn’t have pushed, but then, his dick had clearly been doing the talking. Or maybe it was the part of him that hated the fact he’d ever let her go. Allowed any other man to touch what clearly felt like his.

  Great. Now, he sounded like her prickish ex.

  He backpedaled, hoping to put a better spin on it. “So, you’re saying I’m special.”

  “You’re way past special. Now, don’t you have something better to do with your mouth than talk?”

  “Do I?”

  “Sam.”

  He smiled, ensuring she was watching as he drew his tongue between her folds, lapping at the moisture clinging to her skin. She tasted like honey and spice, with a touch of heat that made his dick throb. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed licking a woman this much. Probably hadn’t since the last time he’d had his head between her thighs, her juice coating his tongue.

  Bridgette’s grip tightened, the slight sting against his scalp making him smile. She was close.

  He hummed against her flesh, the tiny vibrations making her squirm even more. She tilted her hips when he slipped his finger inside her, doing her best to take him deeper. He followed her lead, pressing fully inside her then slowly retreating.

  She huffed, crying out a raspy version of his name when he slammed back in with two fingers. “God, yes. Please, Sam.”

  He set up a slow rhythm, easing back enough to watch his flesh sink inside her only to emerge glistening with more arousal. “Christ, you’re beautiful. So wet. I can’t wait to feel you around me, again.”

  “You’re the one drawing… Shit.”

  Her back arched off the bed, and he had to lay one forearm across her hips to keep her still—prevent her from taking control. He wasn’t ready to move on, just yet. What if he never got to taste her, again? If this was nothing more than another safe one-off for her? If the only reason he was “special” was because they had history?

  Bridgette moaned, drawing his attention. A deep blush colored her skin as she writhed on the bed, looking incredibly desperate and sexy. Christ, he was a fucking goner.

  He sighed. “Fine, come for me. But don’t think this is the last time I’ll have my face buried in your flesh.”

  She creamed his hand at his words, nodding her agreement before pressing her head into the mattress. Her neck corded, every muscle straining as he kept her poised on the edge. He smiled, taking one more moment to memorize the scene. He wanted to remember the color of skin, highlighted by the mass of golden hair around her shoulders. The way her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe past the searing pleasure. How her breasts pointed toward the ceiling, the nipples beaded into hard points. He wanted to suck on them, but he was having a hard time focusing on anything other than his need to be inside her.

  He increased his thrusts, hitting her G-spot as he crooked his fingers, then sucking hard on her clit. Bridgette stiffened, squeezing his shoulders with her thighs before shouting her release. Strong contractions pulled at his fingers, drawing them deeper as her entire body responded. Her muscles flexed beneath her flushed skin as her head thrashed from side to side. He lapped at the wash of fluid, content to spend the next hour with his tongue gliding against her wet flesh, when the pressure around his shoulders eased, and her thighs fell to the side as her fingers slid from his hair.

  He dropped an open-mouthed kiss on her clit then lifted his head, staring up at her as she breathed through the last of her orgasm. Her chest heaved from the strain, each raspy inhalation sounding through the room.

  Sam untangled himself from her legs, moving off to one side. He skimmed his fingers along her abdomen then up her ribs and across her chest, brushing her nipple as he settled in beside her, his weight braced on his elbow. Bridgette shivered, fluttering her eyelids as she tried to focus on him. It took a few moments before her gaze cleared, the small ring of blue more brilliant than before.

  He dipped down, dropping a kiss on her nose. “God, you really are beautiful. I could watch you come for me all day long.”

  A contented smile curved her lips, and she looked genuinely happy. “Not sure I could do that, again, and stay conscious.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve trained in the art of patience. I’ll keep you safe while you recover.”

  Her eyes widened, taking on a glassy appearance as she grazed her thumb across her jaw. “How about we play more during the next round?”

  “That sounds like you have plans for now.”

  “I do. You, inside me. For as long as you can last.”

  He clenched his jaw to keep from pouncing on top of her and slamming inside. “Sounds like a challenge, too, darling.”

  “Not a challenge. Five minutes. An hour. I don’t care. I just need you.”

  His heart skipped, taking up a shaky rhythm as he fought to swallow past the lump in his throat. He leaned forward, resting his forehead on hers. “God, Bridg.”

  She slipped her hand around his neck, holding him close as their breathing mixed. Time faded into the gentle scratch of her nails against his scalp and the warm press of her body against his. What he wouldn’t give to slide on top of her. Gather her in his arms as he moved deep inside her. Watch her face as she gave herself to him. Though he didn’t equate loving to position, with her…

  He pushed away the hint of disappointment. Maybe with time, she’d come to trust him enough he could love her that way. Until then, he’d respect her limitations. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her.

  Bridgette stared up at him as he eased back, her big eyes watching him. She snagged her bottom lip as tension strained her muscles.

  S
am gave her a smile. “Easy, darling. I promised I wouldn’t hurt you, and that includes breaking any of your conditions. So be a good girl and roll onto your side for me.”

  She opened her mouth then closed it, following his directions and rolling away from him. He snaked his hand across her waist then between her breasts, tugging her back tight against his chest. She wiggled her ass, rubbing it across his dick.

  He tsked in her ear. “I’m trying to be romantic—as much as I can be without climbing on top of you. But, if you keep tempting my control like that…”

  She laughed, the easy sound kicking up his heart rate. God, what he wouldn’t give to hear her laugh like that every day. To see her face light up and know he was the reason for the small lines around her eyes or the light flush on her skin.

  He let the thought linger as he nudged her thighs apart then smoothed his hand down her torso and across her hip. “Lay your top leg over mine. Good.”

  He skimmed his palm lower, tracing her leg as far as he could reach before slowly making his way back up. He circled her hipbone, smiling at the way she twitched, then lowered his finger to her slit.

  He moaned against her neck, licking at her sweat-damp skin. “You’re even wetter. I thought I’d licked you dry, but you’re proving me wrong.” He dipped his finger through her folds, gathering moisture on the tip. “Maybe I should go back down—do my job properly, this time.”

  She inhaled, glancing at him over her shoulder. Her lips were parted, her breath panting around them. She swallowed with effort, the red slashes across her cheeks making the rest of her flesh look paler. “Sam, please.”

  He grinned, knowing it would irritate her. “Please lick me, again?”

  “Please fuck me before I decide to tie you to the bed.”

  “Hmm, interesting concept. And I might hold still long enough for you to do that—eventually.”

  He silenced her with a firm kiss, tangling his other hand in her hair to hold her captive. Bridgette ate at his mouth as she wrapped her arm around his ribs, tugging in an effort to pull him closer. He shifted as much as he could, thrusting the tip of his dick against her sex.