The Risk-Taker

by Kira Sinclair

  She gave in to the pressure, meeting him with enough roiling passion to make him forget anything. Forget everything. He knew he shouldn’t use her to anesthetize himself, but she felt so good.

  When he moved to pull the jacket from her shoulders, her soft hands stopped him.

  Her eyes were hot and her breath hitched as she said, “Your parents are downstairs.”

  Like he cared. He wanted her. She wanted him. They were both adults. Besides... Pressing his hips tight against hers, he settled the swollen length of his erection right where he knew it would do the most damage. And then rocked against her over and over again, torturing them both in the sweetest way.

  “Do you have any idea how many times I fantasized about you in this room? How many times I woke up hard as a rock from an X-rated dream that starred your hands and mouth all over me?”

  Her pupils dilated, her eyes straying over his shoulder. He didn’t have to follow her gaze to know she was looking at the bed. His bed.

  He’d had her in her bed, floor, kitchen, shower, but in that moment none of those was enough. He wanted her right now, right here. Where he’d always dreamed of having her.

  Leaning closer, he ran his lips over the sensitive curve of her ear. And whispered, “I don’t know how many times I touched myself, thinking of you.”

  Gage found the warm spot right behind her ear and sucked. She gasped softly and shuddered, her eyelids weighting with the same desire that filled him.

  He tasted her skin, running kisses down the side of her throat. “Only you.”

  Without asking for permission, Gage swept her legs out from under her and carried her over to his bed. It was smaller than hers, only a double, but as long as she was in it that was all he needed.

  He should have known Hope had never been one to accept things at face value. She pushed. She questioned. He hated and loved that about her.

  Her back had barely hit the mattress before she was bounding up to grab him and pull him down beside her. “Fantasies, huh? What kind of fantasies?”

  Tucking her beneath him, Gage rolled until they were stretched diagonally across the bed. “Well, there was one with you, me and Spider-Man.”

  “Kinky.”

  “But I was ten and it was hardly explicit so I don’t think that counts.”

  “There go my plans for using that sticky web.”

  Gage grinned down at her. She was so beautiful that it hurt. If someone had told him a month ago he’d be holding Hope Rawlings in his bed he’d have laughed and called the man a liar.

  How quickly things could change.

  How bizarre life could be.

  But he refused to let the whys ruin this moment together.

  Resolved, he rolled his hips against her, pressing her into the mattress. She arched her back, meeting him, a smile tugging at her lips.

  “Anything else? Maybe something I could fulfill for you?”

  A long-dead fantasy flashed across his mind, past and present melding together. How many times had he woken up hard and throbbing from a dream of her sucking him off? Only this time when the vision popped into his mind it wasn’t the teenaged Hope with her long tawny hair and serious green eyes, it was this Hope. The sexy, contained, delightfully challenging woman she’d become.

  “Well...” he drawled, letting the full weight of his Southern accent pull at the vowel.

  Her hands found the edge of his shirt and the strip of skin where it had ridden up his ribs. The teasing point of her fingernails raked across his abs, making the muscles jump.

  “Yes?” she asked, her sultry eyes flashing with interest.

  He touched her lips. The bottom one contorted when he dragged a fingertip against it. Her mouth parted and she sucked the single digit into the hot recesses.

  The tantalizing edge of her tongue scraped against the sensitive pad of his finger. It was as if she had a direct path to his cock. A jagged bolt of electricity shot through him, turning him rock-hard.

  Gage groaned, dropping his head back at the feel of her.

  “Kiss me,” he ordered, pulling his finger from her mouth.

  She melded their mouths together and brought him low. As devastating as the kiss was, it wasn’t what he wanted.

  “That’s not what I meant,” he said breathlessly when she finally let him go.

  Her gaze glittered with impish delight. “I know.”

  The air backed up into his lungs. With steady pressure, she pushed against his shoulders until he dropped back onto the bed. She rose above him. The soft strands of her hair fell around her face, blocking out everything but the vision of her.

  He scraped her hair back, anchoring it at the nape of her neck. He wanted to see her.

  That grin only grew when she dipped down his body and opened his jeans. Her hands were cool and steady. Or maybe that was just because he was shaking and on fire.

  She found him, hard and throbbing with a need only she could stir inside him. She stroked him once, not nearly enough, before she paused to strip him of his clothes. She didn’t stop with his jeans and shorts, insisting that he lose everything. When he realized he couldn’t sway her determination, he quickly complied.

  Although the moment he was stretched out in front of her, completely naked, while she still had every stitch of clothing on, he thought maybe that had been a tactical error. It felt wrong. He wanted to see her. Touch all of her.

  But when he moved to return the favor she’d waved a single finger in his face and said, “Uh, uh, uh,” while moving out of the range of his searching hands.

  Her hands ran roughly across his chest and abs, heading exactly where he wanted. But she didn’t touch him. His traitorous cock leaped, anyway, absolutely certain it was about to get what it wanted.

  “Not yet,” she murmured. Instead, she let her hands continue down the flexed ridge of his thighs.

  She leaned forward. The ends of her hair tickled over his abs. Her hot breath wafted across his erection. It wasn’t enough. He thrust his hips forward, trying to reach what he wanted.

  She just smirked, pulling back to kneel between his spread thighs. Slowly, she ran her hands up her own body. Her fingers lingered over her own breasts and his eyes zeroed in on the tenting peaks of her nipples against the tight cotton of her shirt.

  Hope pressed a thumb against one of them, rolling it beneath the pressure. Her eyelids slid closed and she dropped her head back with pleasure.

  Gage shifted, wanted to be the one to touch her. But the moment he moved her eyes popped open and speared him. A single eyebrow rose in a pointed order. He debated the merits of doing what she wanted and finally decided to settle back.

  The reward was her taking her shirt and bra off, at least letting his eyes touch her if nothing else could.

  She teased him and delighted in it, using the flat of her tongue to lick him like the best ice cream cone. She stroked up and down, the moist heat of her breath bathing over him.

  Finally, her bright pink lips parted, taking him deep inside. His entire body tensed for the unbelievable reality and the remarkable fantasy to finally merge.

  He wasn’t disappointed. Actually, he was blown away, because there was no comparison.

  She sucked hard, slowly letting him slip through the pressurized tunnel of her mouth. Her tongue stroked him. Damn, she felt so good.

  He was close, and until the moment when that band of pressure built at the center of his back, ready to let go, he’d thought he wanted to come with her face buried in his lap. But as good as it felt, it wasn’t enough.

  He wanted to look in her eyes when he came. He wanted to know she was right there with him, sharing the moment in every possible way.

  Finding a strength he hadn’t known he possessed, Gage grasped her by the shoulders, tore her away from his erection and had her flat on her back in less than ten seconds.

  Hope blinked up at him, her mouth puckered open, disoriented. The expression was cute. He rather liked to fluster her because it happened so rarely. Effi
cient, structured, determined Hope.

  Gage tore at the few clothes that she’d kept on, making quick work of them. At the same time he managed to find a condom from the bedside drawer, spent about a nanosecond worrying how old it could be before deciding he really didn’t care and rolled the sucker over his aching erection.

  The scent of her arousal—warm, spicy—slammed into him. It was more temptation than he could deny. He spread the folds of her sex to find her slippery with wanting him. Apparently, her little teasing job hadn’t only worked on him.

  He slowly sank home, devastated by the perfect feel of her. She made a quiet gasp and arched up to meet him. Her swollen sex tightened around him, pulling him closer. He paused, relishing the way they came together. A perfect fit.

  Her body stretched, welcoming him even as he slowly, deliberately moved against her. Her feet scraped restlessly against the bed. He buried his forehead against her throat, breathing her in and letting everything about her wrap around him. Her hips writhed, searching for more.

  Gage pulled out and quickly thrust back in. Her eyes widened and glazed. Sharp teeth bit into her bottom lip. Running the pad of his finger over it, he freed it and leaned down to suck it into his own mouth.

  They worked together, finding a rhythm that rang the most pleasure out of each and every joining. Hope began to whimper...soft, urgent sounds that drove him to give her more.

  Nails raked down his back, taking skin and leaving marks. He didn’t care, but he understood her need for something to hold on to. The storm building inside him was almost more than he could bear.

  At least alone.

  It was more than physical. More than sex. Reaching behind him, he grabbed her hands, threaded their fingers together and pressed them into the mattress beside her head. Held tight to her.

  Unable to tear his gaze away from her, he watched. And knew the moment the pressure building inside her snapped. Ecstasy flooded through her, spilling out and crashing over him.

  Her release rocked through him just as surely as his own. Stars burst across his vision, blinding him to everything but Hope. His entire world narrowed down to her.

  When had that happened? When had she become everything?

  * * *

  HOPE WATCHED HIM THROUGH heavy-lidded eyes. His hair was damp from the shower they’d just shared. Thank heaven his parents’ room was downstairs because they hadn’t exactly been quiet and she was embarrassed enough as it was.

  Gage grasped the ends of the towel he’d draped across his shoulders after drying his head. She’d been so preoccupied before that she hadn’t really stopped to look at his thumbs now that they were unbandaged.

  Her stomach flip-flopped sickly. She’d never been one to be bothered by blood, but the physical reminder of what he’d been through... It was hard to look at.

  He followed her gaze, glancing down at his fisted hands and then back at her.

  “You can’t let it go, can you?”

  Slowly, Hope reached for him. She wrapped a hand around the sharp edge of his hip and pulled him closer. Stiffly, he let her tug him to the bed. His knees hit the mattress, but he didn’t fall beside her.

  Hope grasped one hand and, one by one, uncurled his fingers until he let the towel swing free. She squeezed, stretched out his thumb.

  “It bothers me.”

  Gage tried to pull his hand out of her hold. “I’m sorry. I’ll cover them up.”

  Her forehead crinkled with annoyance. “That’s not what I meant. It bothers me to think about you in pain.” She placed the barest kiss right above the exposed nail bed. “It must have hurt.”

  Gage shrugged. “It wasn’t pleasant.”

  A strangled laugh lodged inside her chest, aching just a little, as if she’d swallowed something hard and couldn’t quite get it down. There was nothing funny about this. “Somehow I think that’s an understatement.”

  He didn’t answer her, just stood there in silence and let her stroke his hand.

  “Tell me.”

  She expected him to refuse, to pull away from her and shut her out like he did everyone else. So she was shocked when he didn’t.

  “They took pliers and applied pressure to my thumbs until the nails cracked. Then they ripped the pieces out.”

  “Holy hell.”

  “There was nothing holy about it.”

  “No,” she choked out, “there wasn’t.”

  She’d known whatever happened hadn’t been good. It didn’t take a genius to figure out. And hearing the specifics was gut-churning enough. But what bothered her most was the even, steady voice he’d delivered them with.

  Like he was issuing a grocery list instead of talking about torture.

  “What did they want?” she forced herself to ask. Not because she wanted to know, but because she knew that he needed to talk about this to someone. If that someone was her...she’d find a way to get through it.

  When her mother died, Gage had been there for her. A ten-year-old boy who’d never dealt with loss himself had been one of the only people to understand. To sit there in silence with her when she couldn’t talk about it, or listen to her endless stream of words when she couldn’t hold them inside anymore.

  “Information. Details about our plans, our troops, our informants, whatever I could give them.”

  “You didn’t give them anything.” It wasn’t a question because Hope already knew the answer.

  Her eyes strayed to the thumb she still held. Could she have lasted through that kind of deliberately inflicted pain? No, she didn’t think so. She wasn’t strong enough.

  “I would have crumbled.”

  “No, you wouldn’t have.”

  Hope made a sound of disagreement.

  “You forget, I’ve seen your determination in action. Nothing sways you once you make up your mind about something.”

  Not exactly true. Where had her dedication been when she needed to resist him?

  Twelve years ago she’d been so angry with him. And scared. Scared to let herself love him and lose him. Scared of the danger he was willingly walking into and his need to push the boundaries and test everyone—including himself.

  She hadn’t even lasted two days before she’d given in and let him touch her. If he’d stayed around back then would she have been able to resist longer? Or would her anger have dissolved and left her open and vulnerable just like now?

  “When there are lives at stake you find the strength. Anything I’d told them would have been used to harm American soldiers. I was already responsible for our capture, I wouldn’t add that to my conscience.”

  “You were willing to die.” Again, not a question. The nature of his job involved a willingness to make that sacrifice if that’s what was needed.

  That reality scared the shit out of her. It hurt, deep inside. The pain of loss was recognizable even though it had been so many years since she’d felt it. Not that time really mattered when you were talking about that kind of grief.

  Losing her mother, losing Gage, would have hurt the same. Even before she’d dropped her defenses and let him in.

  “To protect my brothers? To exchange my life for the thousands of men and woman who served with me? You bet.”

  Knowing he’d make that choice and hearing him voice it were two different things. What made it more difficult was that it went beyond that. “To protect one,” she whispered. Because that was really the rub. Choosing to protect lots of people was just noble. And easy. The greater good. Choosing to sacrifice yourself for one single person...that took guts, commitment and a willful recklessness.

  The kind of recklessness that sent a chill down her spine. That made her want to wrap her arms around herself and curl into a ball. Because, while she admired him for that courage and integrity, she realized making that sacrifice was the easy part.

  Learning to live without him—and with the guilt of wishing he could make a different choice—would be hard for those he left behind.

  He didn’t answer her because th
ey both knew what she’d said was true.

  But something he’d said earlier finally registered. “What do you mean you were responsible for what happened? How could you possibly be responsible?”

  13

  GAGE CLOSED HIS EYES. He’d been hoping she wouldn’t pick up on the detail he’d let slip. He should have known better. Hope liked things neat and tidy.

  He opened his eyes again and looked into her upturned face. She watched him, her green-gold eyes patiently waiting.

  Cupping her face, he ran the pad of his finger across her soft skin. He wanted to tell her. The urge surprised him. How could that be possible?

  Even as he tried to issue a stern order to his mouth to stay shut, the words were falling out.

  “I screwed up and got us captured.”

  He didn’t want to look at her, to see the horror and disappointment on her face, so he dropped down onto the bed beside her, giving her his back.

  Behind him, her weight shifted. Part of him expected her to just get up and walk away. And, really, he wouldn’t have blamed her. But she didn’t.

  The sharp jab of her knees pressed against his hips. Her hands brushed lightly across his shoulders, down his arms and up his back. Finally, she wrapped herself around him from behind and rested her chin against his back.

  Beneath her touch he was rigid. Every muscle in his body was pulled tight with the memories and regret he’d been fighting for weeks.

  She didn’t ask him to continue, which is probably why he did.

  “I was...restless that day. I’d just found out a good friend had died. Senselessly, in an accident, which actually made it worse. I was pissed and upset.”

  “Understandable.”

  “Maybe, but I didn’t deal with it well. Instead of taking a day or two to clear my head like I should have, I went in and asked to be sent out on assignment.”

  “A distraction. A way to push your body so your mind could rest.”

  Gage nodded. “Exactly.” It should have helped that she understood. It didn’t. It just reinforced the feeling that he was entirely too predictable. A woman he hadn’t seen for twelve years knew exactly what he’d been looking for when at the time he hadn’t had a clue. What did that say about him?