Danger and Desire: Ten Full-Length Steamy Romantic Suspense Novels

by Pamela Clare

“No.”

  “I mean it, back off.” She punched the heels of her hands into his chest with surprising force. He didn’t budge because he knew she needed this. She was spoiling for a fight and he was more than willing to give her that release.

  He leaned even closer, placed his hands on the counter on either side of her to cage her in, all the while holding her gaze. “No,” he said again, softer this time.

  A spurt of panic flickered in her eyes. She tried to duck out from under his arm but he blocked her easily, pinning her hips with his own. Her head snapped up, those wide gray eyes filled with shock as she felt his erection pressing into her belly. She jerked her eyes away, swallowed again. “Let me go. Right now, Gage, I mean it.”

  She was strung so tight she was on the verge of shattering. A volcano about to erupt. And God, he’d love nothing more than to incinerate in the ensuing explosion with her. He wasn’t worried about her hurting him. Whatever she could dish out, he could take it and more. “No.”

  His calm tone acted like a trigger. With an inarticulate sound of rage, she twisted and shoved at his shoulders. Gage caught her wrists and quickly shifted her away from the counter, backed her up against the kitchen wall and pinned her there with his weight. He had only a moment for his brain to register the feel of her soft curves molded to him before she began struggling, trying to shove him away. Not happening.

  He held her there, refusing to back down. Her teeth were bared, eyes narrowed, breath coming in short gasps. Low, animal sounds came from her throat as she fought and got nowhere. He could tell it infuriated her more that he’d subdued her so easily, overpowered her with his greater strength. Recognizing she couldn’t win, after a minute or two she stilled, quivering with fury, every line of her luscious body rigid with anger and outrage. With him so close she was forced to tilt her head back to look into his face. The warm puffs of her uneven breaths bathed his skin.

  “Fuck you, let me go,” she snapped, her voice ragged, tight with emotion.

  Hands holding her wrists on either side of her head, he waited for her to calm down and meet his gaze. At last she did and he could see the turmoil written there. All the anger and pain, the physical need she was trying to hide from him. Her sweet citrus scent, intensified by her increased body heat, swirled around him. He could get drunk on her so easily. Just lean down and put his mouth to the rapidly thrumming pulse in her neck, taste that soft, fragrant skin.

  Holding her gaze, he let one heartbeat of charged silence spread between them. Another. Letting her know without words that he was fully capable of keeping her like this for as long as he wanted. His body was primed, begging him to grab her, tear that tight black skirt and top off her and force her to vent everything that was eating at her from the inside, replace it with white-hot sexual release.

  The throb between his legs bordered on painful. He shifted his hips against her and bit back a moan at the feel of her against his erection, noting the way her pupils expanded and her nostrils flared. The evidence of her arousal kicked his lust into high gear. Gage forced himself to take a single, calming breath, waited until the roar in his ears subsided. If this was the last time he got to have her, he was going to make it one hell of a goodbye.

  Staring straight into her eyes, he released her wrists and murmured, “Turn it loose.”

  Chapter Eight

  Claire was so lost in the dizzying fog of rage engulfing her that it took a moment to realize he’d let her wrists go and for those soft words to penetrate. When they did and his meaning hit home, the breath halted in her throat. Fight him? As in, really fight him? It was ridiculous. He outweighed her by at least seventy pounds of solid muscle and had trained most of his life in hand to hand combat. She didn’t want to fight him, she just wanted… God, she didn’t know what she wanted. She couldn’t fucking think with him this close.

  His eyes were so blue, so intense. “Do it,” he taunted, more forcefully this time. She could practically feel the leashed energy humming in his big frame, every muscle coiled and ready, making her body respond in turn.

  Her compressed lungs expanded in a sudden gasp and she drew in a painful breath of air. The pain came rushing back. It hurt. All of it. The funeral, the fallout with what was left of her family, the Taliban cell’s threat hanging over her head and being constantly reminded that she’d thrown Gage out of her life. She shook her head tightly, growing frantic, afraid of what she might do if he kept pushing her. Because part of her wanted to fight. Something he’d obviously recognized long before she had.

  Her heart pounded a hard, frantic rhythm against her breastbone. Her mouth was dry. He was blocking her in, preventing her from escaping and venting her pain in private. She was on the verge of losing control, teetering on the brink and she didn’t know how to pull back. Gage was like warm steel against her, the hard length of his erection pressed tight to her belly. She could feel him waiting for her decision, poised and ready for her first move. And she knew he wouldn’t back down until she gave it.

  Staring up at him through narrowed eyes, her breathing quickened once more. His arms and body caged her so tight there was no escape except to fight. Anger rose, swift and hot. The toxic cloud of emotions closed in, suffocating her in a layer so thick it was all she could do to breathe. A funny sound came out of her throat, a mix of rage and grief that knotted her up inside. Still he refused to ease up. Instinct kicked in. She felt the moment the last of her control snapped, a wire pulled too tight. She attacked.

  She twisted to lash out with her fists and knees, screaming her fury. Gage merely grabbed her around the waist and leaned in closer to take away her leverage. Absorbing her blows rather than stopping them. She was too enraged to care if she was hurting him. She kept fighting, desperate to get away from him and lock herself behind a door until she could calm down and vent the ugliness inside her. He wouldn’t allow it.

  Pushed beyond all restraint, she reared back to take a swing at his jaw. He caught her fist in one hand and pivoted, swinging her around in front of him as he swept her feet out from under her with a well placed shot from his foot. She threw a hand out to break her fall but Gage caught her easily and flipped her so that he took the brunt of the impact, rolling to his side and winding up on the rug in the dim hallway.

  Shaken, she scrambled to her hands and knees. He followed instantly, covering her with his weight before she could gain her balance. Trapping her beneath two hundred ten pounds of muscle. There was nowhere to go. Her mind rebelled, but her body was done. She sagged, sucked in air through her nose as her body quivered, then stilled.

  Gage was poised behind her, his strong thighs bracketing hers, thick arms braced on either side of her head. Heat radiated from his torso, pressed tight to her back, the thickness of his erection rigid against her buttocks. He was barely breathing hard, completely unfazed by her attempts to get free as he bent his head until his warm breath brushed over the side of her face.

  “Better?” he murmured against her ear.

  Goose bumps immediately erupted across her skin, a torrent of sexual desire ripping through her, replacing the anger. Her nipples beaded against the cups of her bra, suddenly hyper sensitive to the barest whisper of fabric against them with every breath she took. A hot pulse ignited between her legs.

  Oh, Jesus. The position, the feel of him snug against her, so hot and ready, had her about to incinerate. A puff of warm air gusted over her temple as he nuzzled her there with his nose, lips so close to her skin. If she turned her head just a fraction, they’d be kissing. She closed her eyes and focused on breathing, let her muscles relax. It didn’t help. A voracious hunger clawed at her, twisted her insides with a pounding ache so intense she shuddered.

  Helpless to stop herself, she arched her back and ground her ass against his hips. The resulting jolt of pleasure between her thighs made her suck in her breath. “Gage.” It came out a raw, hoarse plea.

  He went still and cursed under his breath. One strong hand moved to her hip, gripped it tight as h
e circled his erection against her. So close, only a few layers of clothing separating her from what she needed. She whimpered at the sensual torture. He froze at the sound, bent until she felt the gentle brush of his lips against her bare nape. “Okay, baby. Hold still.”

  Yes, please, do it. Claire let herself go lax, dropped her head to lay her cheek against the thick pile of the rug. She needed him so badly, didn’t care that it was going to be here in the hallway. All she cared about was having him inside her to ease this terrible ache, have him fill her until the emptiness went away, even for only a little while.

  Gage shifted behind her slightly and set his palm flat on the rug next to her face. She reached out blindly and grabbed his thick wrist, hanging on tight. Another kiss against her nape, this one harder, the tender stroke of his tongue sending flames licking across her skin. His other hand caressed the curve of her rear, cruising over the tight fabric of her skirt in seductive circles. She pushed back against it, impatient, dying to feel him slide inside her.

  A whisper of air brushed her inner thighs as he eased the hem of the skirt up her legs, higher, until the curve of her ass was exposed along with the lacy black strip of her thong nestled between her cheeks. He growled softly, stroked his palm over her bare skin.

  “You wet for me?” he murmured against the top of her spine.

  She nodded and licked her lips, the hand around his wrist tightening, the fingers of her other hand digging deep into the rug. Hurry, hurry, she urged him, her body pulsing with need.

  She gasped when his mouth fastened over the sensitive spot on the side of her neck. His tongue licked her in lazy circles as he reached around her hips to cup the dampened lace between her thighs. The heat of his hand, the subtle pressure of it, dragged a soft cry from her. He circled his palm slowly, spreading the moisture beneath the lace with a satisfied growl, and scraped his teeth against her neck. His breathing was erratic and she could feel his heart pounding against her back. She wriggled her hips to get more friction where she needed it but he pulled his hand away to slide over her hip and ease his fingers beneath the band of lace nestled in the valley between her cheeks.

  “Are you still on the pill?” he demanded, easing the scrap of lace aside in a slippery caress across her clit that made her shudder and strain back for more.

  She shook her head, unable to answer. They both knew there was a tiny risk that his vasectomy might not be a hundred percent effective, but at the moment she didn’t care. The need was clawing at her, making her frantic.

  Another low curse, then finally, finally she felt the pressure of his fingers against her opening. He slid them up and down her folds, spreading her wetness as he twisted his wrist from her grip and reared up on his knees. She heard the sound of a zipper lowering and almost wept in relief. A second later he planted his hand back beside her head and eased two fingers into her body.

  She bowed up at the feel of it, moaned when he rubbed over that hidden ache inside her and withdrew to circle her swollen clit. “There,” she breathed, the plea evident in her voice.

  “Yeah, I know you like that.” He pulled his hand from between her legs and positioned the blunt head of his cock against her. Blood pounding in her ears, Claire held her breath and waited, every muscle in her body quivering in anticipation.

  With a firm grip on her hip Gage surged forward, burying himself deep. He felt huge inside her. The sudden fullness, the friction against her inner walls was incredible. Claire bucked in his hold, a wild cry tearing from her lips.

  He held firm, stayed locked inside her so that she could feel every pulse of her muscles around him. “Easy, baby, I got you.”

  That Southern drawl slid over her like warm honey. She made an unintelligible sound.

  His teeth nipped the side of her neck. “You’re gonna come for me.” The words were low, commanding.

  She nodded, mindless with sensation, desperate for the release he could give her. Gage didn’t make her wait. He groaned and plunged in and out of her, fucking her hard, that hand on her hip holding her in place. Claire widened her thighs and arched her hips as much as she could, seeking just the right angle.

  In a smooth motion he eased up into a kneeling position and pulled his wrist free of her grip to slide his hand between her thighs. His fingers slid beneath the front of the thong to find the tight bundle of nerves there and started stroking in time with his thrusts. Her whole body tightened at the brutal lash of pleasure. She gritted her teeth and reared back against his thrusts, riding him as hard as he was her, rubbing her clit against his slick fingers, demanding the release he was pushing her toward.

  “Give it to me,” he growled.

  The impassioned demand launched her. Pleasure rocketed through her, winding tight until it snapped free in a glorious burst of heat and sensation. The orgasm rushed through her in wracking spasms and she was barely aware of her shattered cries echoing off the walls around them.

  When it was over she went limp beneath him, her thighs trembling from the effort of keeping her weight balanced on her knees. Eventually she became aware that she was crying softly, one side of her wet face still pressed against the rug. Gage was completely still, locked deep inside her, huge and hot, his breathing labored. She pressed back toward him in a plea for him to finish, but he gripped both her hips and slowly withdrew with a pained hiss erupting from between his teeth.

  Fighting to open her teary eyes, Claire risked a look at him over her shoulder. The light spilling through the kitchen doorway bathed the right side of him in a warm glow. He still wore his dress shirt and had his jeans shoved halfway down his thighs, exposing the gleaming length of his cock standing straight out from his body. His face was rigid, nostrils and mouth pinched like he was in agony. She started to reach out a hand to touch him, wanting to give him the same pleasure he’d given her, but he blocked it and wrapped his fist around himself instead. She watched, spellbound as he started pumping, his hips moving in counterpoint to the rhythm of his hand.

  He stared directly into her eyes as he stroked himself, letting her see what she did to him, totally unembarrassed by his arousal and need. The muscles low in her abdomen fluttered. Understanding what he wanted, Claire stretched out flat on her belly and pillowed her cheek on her hands to watch the show.

  Claire lay flat on the rug with her face turned toward him, watching him silently with glistening eyes. At her wordless acquiescence and approval Gage groaned low in his throat and sped up his strokes, his hand working his aroused flesh. Fucking hell she was sexy like that, lying there all soft and satisfied from the orgasm he’d given her.

  Even wet from tears and with mascara smudged beneath them, those big gray eyes seemed to glow at him in the dim lighting, like banked coals waiting for a breath of oxygen that would make them burst back into flame. She’d been so wet, so tight around him. The way she’d been writhing against him with those sexy little cries spilling from her lips, he’d almost come with her. It had taken an act of will to pull out of her warmth, but having her watch him so hungrily now while he stroked himself was even hotter.

  Her gaze swept over his body to where he was fisting himself so tightly. She licked her lips in reflex and he felt his balls tighten. God, it was so erotic to have her watching so intently, like she wanted to eat him up. A few more pumps and he gasped, threw his head back and let go, coming across her bare ass in hard spurts. Claire gasped. He watched his come hit her creamy skin, a fierce possessiveness twining with the pleasure at the evidence that he’d marked her, claimed her. His.

  In the aftermath he slumped forward to rest his weight on one hand, bent his head so that he could nuzzle the side of her mouth as he caught his breath. God, he was destroyed. His muscles trembled so much he could hardly support his weight on his arm. The moment his mouth brushed hers Claire turned her head and kissed him, parting her lips in a silent plea for deeper contact.

  He gave it, sliding his tongue into her mouth to play with hers. Soft and slow now that the insane heat had been q
uenched. For the moment, at least. With her it always flared fast and hot again in a matter of minutes. Didn’t matter how many times he had her, he’d never get enough. Their chemistry was unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

  With a soft mewling sound Claire reached one hand up to slide it around his nape. Gage rested more of his weight on his left arm and deepened the kiss, absorbing her sigh of contentment while his heart rate stabilized. After a minute he turned his face to layer kisses over her damp cheek, over her closed eyelid. She rested her head on the back of her right hand and let out a shuddering sigh.

  Easing his weight back on his haunches, he stroked the hair away from her temple and expelled a deep breath. Jesus, he was soaked with sweat. His shirt stuck to his back and chest as he tucked himself back into his underwear and did up his jeans.

  Claire started to push up but he stilled her with a gentle hand between her shoulder blades. She was all wet and sticky with his come. “Lie still. I’ll be right back.” He went to the bathroom and dampened a facecloth with warm water, then came back to her and wiped her skin clean.

  After easing her skirt back down into place he went to one knee and rolled her onto her side. She reached up for him immediately and he gathered her into his arms, lifted her and strode upstairs to her room. Once there he helped her strip her clothes off and dumped them into the laundry hamper for her. When he came out of the small walk-in closet she was already beneath the quilt, head on the pillow as she watched him.

  He stood there, unsure what he should do next, but then she pulled back the covers on the empty side of the bed in invitation. Wanting the comfort of holding her, he slid in beside her, fully dressed, and drew her close. She snuggled into his chest with a weary sigh and he kissed the top of her head, savoring the warmth of her silky soft skin beneath his hands.

  “Sleep, baby,” he whispered against her hair. Running a soothing hand over her delicate spine, he listened to her breathing deepen and even out. Within minutes, she was fast asleep. Gage closed his eyes and cuddled her close, wishing he could hold her like this forever but knowing it was impossible. After they talked in the morning, he’d probably never get the chance again, so he was going to savor every last moment while he could.