by Joya Ryan
He knew exactly the spot she was talking about. He was both happy he was pleasuring her and pissed that whatever idiots she’d been with in the past hadn’t given her what she needed.
Since she was the one who wanted him to “teach her something,” he felt the need to recap. “So you like rough…” He pulled out, then slammed back in. “Dirty…” He collected all that red hair and wrapped it around his fist. “And deep?” He surged inside of her and tilted his hips up, hitting that spot she liked again while pulling on her hair.
“Yes! I love it all.”
That’s what he wanted to hear. It was all the confirmation he needed to kick into gear. Using her hair as reins, he pulled her back as he thrust forward. And took her just how she wanted it: deep and hard. His hips pounded against her ass, and every few seconds, he caught a glimpse of the red marks he was leaving on her creamy skin. It only spurred him on more.
“Don’t get quiet on me now,” he said, pounding in and out.
“Dex, this is…God, so good.”
“Good?” he asked around gritted teeth. There was that word again, and he liked it less each time she said it. Because good didn’t come close to what was happening between them. She didn’t make him feel good. She made him feel high, lost in the best damn sex he’d had in a long time.
He couldn’t hold off his orgasm much longer, but he had to get her to come first. He also wanted to hear her call this better than good. With one hand still in her hair, he reached around with the other and rubbed her clit.
She gasped and screamed and moaned.
“So good. Amazing! Oh God, please more.”
“Amazing,” he repeated. “More.” Her sheath tensed. She was close. He could feel it. The way her hot little core was clamping down and milking him was a dead giveaway that she was there.
“Is this what you wanted when you set out to make love to me?” he asked.
She shook her head. Reached out farther in front of her to claw at the earth while he fucked her harder. She was no longer grinding against the sleeping bag; she was grinding against the ground itself.
She was beautiful. Animalistic. Like a savage, wild woman reaching for her own pleasure, and it turned him on. She was gone, a slave to him and to her passion. And he. Fucking. Loved. It.
“This isn’t making love,” she said on a strangled breath. “This is fucking.” Her tight sheath erupted with convulsions as her cries of pleasure carried through the wilderness.
Dex felt her coming apart around him. Her hot little pussy creaming and sucking him down, demanding he follow. He did.
Thrusting hard and keeping her tight in his grip, his orgasm shot out fast and so damn powerful it rocked him on his knees.
She was right. Whatever had just happened between them wasn’t making love. It was raw, wild fucking. And he wanted to do it again and again.
Michelle’s eye shot open. She looked around. It was dark. Not pitch black like it had been—she could have sworn—only minutes ago. The horizon was threatening to break the first sight of dawn.
She tried to move—and her whole body protested. Mostly because there was a large, heavy body on top of her.
Dex.
His brawny arms were wrapped around her, warming her while the sleeping bag was a tangled mess around them.
She looked down. Thank God her pants were pulled up.
She hadn’t dreamt it. They’d made loved last night. Scratch that; they’d had sex. No, scratch that, too. They’d fucked. She now understood the difference and wasn’t sorry about it. But she wasn’t about to stick around for what she assumed would be an awkward morning hello. Dex had been right. She didn’t know how to do a one nighter. But she was pretty sure it involved leaving. Like, right away.
She scooted away from the hulking man. Going slow and praying to any god that was on duty to grant the grace to keep him asleep. Finally, she was able to slink away, and right as she tugged her boots on and gathered her purse, Dex hugged the spot in the sleeping bag where’d she’d been, and she kind of felt bad.
Maybe she should say good-bye. Thank him for a lovely time?
Wow, she really didn’t know what she was doing.
Last night had been life changing. She’d had more than the adventure she’d bargained for, and her body hurt in all the good places. There was something freeing about screaming your lungs out, no holds barred, being an animal and slave to whatever you wanted.
Adventure.
Dex had given her a taste.
A surge of hope hit her.
She could check a few things off her list and feel proud that she a) made it through the entire training and b) wouldn’t become one of those needy women that hung around him. She would not be clingy. She was independent after all. She smiled to herself. She was on the right track. She knew it.
But it was over now. At least she could hold her head high and—
Her happy thoughts cut short when she caught sight of what looked like a green roof, roughly a hundred yards in the distance.
It was the cabin. The one they’d met and started at.
She glared at the sleeping search and rescuer, then looked back at the cabin.
He’d walked her in circles for hours and had her thinking she was really in the wilderness when she was only on the edge of the damn park!
With anger rising, she stomped toward the cabin and hoped to God that sneaky man woke up with nothing more than morning wood and mosquito bites.
Chapter Four
Dex poured himself coffee from Gage’s office supply and gripped the Styrofoam cup. It had been a shit morning. He’d woken up alone in a mangled sleeping bag with the glaring realization that he’d been right.
Michelle hadn’t been here for the long haul. He’d thought maybe this one was different. But no. It was just him, and she was gone.
And the hell of it all?
Her intoxicating scent lingered on him and on the sleeping bag.
And now every time he used the damn thing, he’d smell hints of lilac and a sassy woman. A woman who’d taken off on him during the wee hours of the morning.
So now he was back at the office with Gage. At least he had coffee.
“You got ditched?” Gage asked, sitting behind his desk and drinking his own cup.
“I wasn’t ditched. When the sun came up, she obviously saw her car and decided her camping days were over.”
“Uh-huh,” Gage said, kicking up his feet on his desk. “Which means she realized you didn’t actually take her into the woods.”
“You saw what she was wearing,” Dex defended himself. “I wasn’t expecting her to last ten minutes and figured she’d be relieved when she called it quits and could walk a few yards to the outpost.”
“So she lasted ten hours?” Gage asked.
“Roughly,” Dex said, doing some quick mental math. “Probably closer to twelve.” Assuming she’d taken off around five a.m. Something that Dex was trying not to think about. Being left, that is. Granted, that’s what happened when you were only good for a woman for a single night. But he’d imagined things going differently when he’d awakened in the woods. He had expected to have her warm body against his, maybe go for a morning roll in the sleeping bag again.
Instead, he was tired and annoyed, and he’d been ditched. All in all, that left him just plain pissy. The woman clearly had a life, and she probably wanted to get back to it. Enough said. He wanted to get back to his life, too. Easy. One night. Over and done with.
“How do you know she’s okay?” Gage asked.
“Her car was gone. And I saw her tracks heading straight toward it.” Besides, the look on Gage’s face said that he knew she was fine, because he was being way too calm. Cheerful, even.
“You seem grouchy, Dexter.” Gage gave another big, annoying smile.
“I’m fine.”
“Rough night with the…what did you call her? Pageant queen?”
A fresh laugh surged in his belly, but he kept it quiet. He was supposed t
o be irritated as all hell about her. What would Gage think if he suddenly laughed just from talking about her?
“She was fine,” Dex said.
Gage raised his chin, and Dex realized his slip.
“It was fine. The training. Fine.”
That was apparently his new word of the day: Fine. And now he sounded like a moron. Gage was reading him like a book, and Dex didn’t like it. He wasn’t about to tell Gage about last night. As a friend, he wanted to. But at the moment, Gage was in boss mode. Dex couldn’t exactly come out and say that he’d nailed the sexy woman, but he wasn’t playing coy either.
“She’s friends with Chloe, you know?” Gage started.
Great. Now the rumor mill would get going. Not that Dex cared too much. He was used to it. He didn’t have a reputation that was worth protecting. Just a middle-of-the-road guy with some past wild excursions under his belt. But he wasn’t a lunatic with a “bad” reputation.
Gage, however, hadn’t stopped smiling.
“What’s up with you?” Dex asked.
“Just a good day.”
Dex wanted to punch his friend. Must be nice being so on top of the fucking world. Clearly he’d need more caffeine if he wanted rainbows to shoot out of his ass like his buddy over there.
“Well, then I’ll let you get back to your day. Just need my recertification signed by you,” Dex said. Then he could get back to doing what he loved. Getting out in the woods. Being with his team. Searching, training, and all things that didn’t smell like lilacs or require purses.
“Sorry, buddy, can’t sign off on your recertification.”
“Why the hell not. I did your class bullshit.”
“Yeah, you did. For twelve hours. You need eighteen of training a ‘new recruit’ to count.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me. Dealing with that woman counts for time and a half, so that’s eighteen hours.”
“Sorry,” Gage said with a smile, not sorry at all. “You need six more hours. So I suggest you get on that before your papers are due in the next two weeks.”
Dex clenched his teeth because technically he’d already “gotten on that” when it came to Michelle. Now he had to go to her and spend another six hours training her? No. Not a good idea. Mostly because all he could think about was that damn list of hers. She was clearly on some kind of self-reliant explorative mission of sorts. And he was wondering how many fantasies she’d gotten to check off after last night. He also wanted to see what was left on this list… Maybe he could help her check off a few more…
No! Bad idea.
One night was bad enough. Two? She’d just walk away again. And he’d be left alone in his sleeping bag, nothing to hold on to but his own dick.
“I can train someone else,” Dex said.
“Great,” Gage agreed. “Since they’d be considered a new recruit, you have to start over. So eighteen hours it is.”
“What?” Dex snapped. “It’s either six with the woman or start from scratch?” Christ, he didn’t know which one would be more difficult, but he didn’t want to toss the hard-earned hours he’d already put in with Michelle. She’d be a challenge in a totally different way.
“What the hell am I supposed to teach her that I didn’t last night?” His words hit him, and he choked back a grin. He had taught Perfect-Ass Barbie a thing or two last night, and damn, those memories were still fresh. His skin was buzzing from where she’d touched him. And he knew he was a fibbing son of a bitch because he could damn well teach her a lot more.
That list will haunt me for the rest of my days…
“You’ll figure it out,” Gage said. “Surely you couldn’t have taught her everything you know in one night.”
Again, Dex held back a grin. Yeah…he had a few more things he’d like to show the uptight, classy woman about getting dirty. As if Gage could read his face, he finished with, “About wilderness survival.”
“Of course. Wilderness survival,” Dex repeated innocently.
Six hours.
Oh, the things he could teach her in that time.
But first, he had to find her.
Michelle had showered, taken extra time getting dressed, had a much needed cup of coffee, and now was getting ready to head to her boutique. Thank goodness she ran the shop, because she was going to be two minutes late at this point.
Last night had been surprising. And this morning had been cold. But she’d been awake since four a.m., and even though she’d taken an extra few minutes in the shower, it had done nothing to warm her. She hadn’t been warm since she’d left Gage a few hours ago.
She fastened her hair back and looked herself over in the mirror. She looked the same. Except the flush in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes over the knowledge she’d done something…adventurous. Something the old her never would have done.
But the man was a one-night kind of guy. He’d made that clear.
And hell, she was a one-night kind of girl now. Wasn’t that the point? Getting tied down to a man would just lead to her repeating the same mistakes.
She flipped her notebook straight to the sexy list. She’d crossed off a few fantasies. Thanks to G.I. Joe, she’d had sex outside, in positions that were new to her. Now her imagination was going. She grabbed a pen and scribbled down some more fantasies and ideas. Not that she was going to chase these wants with Dex. No, he was brooding and cocky, and she’d finished her training. She’d completed the first step in her independence and was not interested in hanging out with anyone who would tie her down—
Ooooh! She wrote: Be tied up on her list.
Her skin prickled at the thought. Confident with her new desires, she shoved her notebook in her purse. It was time to get back to real life. She could continue to pursue her fantasies, just not with Dex. Too bad all she could do was think of him. How the fire lit up his green eyes. How he didn’t spare her a single ounce of sympathy. He’d put her in trouble and then pushed her to figure it out herself. She liked that. Because he treated her like she was capable. Until she’d realized that he’d walked her in circles and camped out next to her car.
She’d never been in trouble. Not really.
She couldn’t decide if she was more irritated at him for the trick or irritated that she could still feel his hands on her. His mouth…his grip.
She wouldn’t think of him or last night anymore. Time to move on. Time to be realistic. An adventure like last night couldn’t be sustained. Time to return to her standard, practical life and pursuit of independence.
Last night she’d done the adventurous, spontaneous thing well…
And that was a tempting thought.
Her phone buzzed with a call. She grabbed it and answered.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Michelle. Surprised I caught you. Thought you’d be at work.” Her father’s voice boomed through the other side of the phone, and she pinched the bridge of her nose.
“I was just heading there now, Daddy.”
“Good thing. I’d hate to see this business of yours flounder due to poor staffing.”
She had to breathe extra-long through that last jab. Her father was the king of subtly dropping hints about how he thought she was a failure. Only his subtlety was not so subtle.
“My shop is doing great,” she fibbed.
Not a total lie. But a heavy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.
The last few weeks had been slow. And sure, she was getting a little worried. But there was no way she was going to tell her father she was floundering. No, not floundering. She was treading water. Things would pick up. No matter what, she could deal with it, because she was independent. At least, she was trying to be. Running home was not an option.
“Glad to hear, sweetie. You know, you can always come work for me.”
She did know. In fact, her father said those exact words twice a week ever since she’d moved to Beaufort.
“I appreciate that, but I’m doing just great on my own.”
“So, yo
u don’t need any money? Need access to your trust?”
Deep…breath…
She’d moved out here with her savings. Hers. Money she’d worked for and earned. That hadn’t been quite enough to start her shop, so she’d taken a small business loan. Yeah, accepting her family’s money would help bring her business out of the hole. Hell, it was enough money to keep her afloat for years, even if her business didn’t make a dime. But what would that prove? Tapping into her trust would go against everything she was trying to achieve.
She was going to do this on her own or not at all.
“Thank you for the offer, Daddy, but I’m okay for money.” She grabbed her notebook and scribbled quickly, Pay the electric bill today!
“Brad has been asking about you. Coming around. He misses you, sweetie. We all do. I know you might not think this based on how fast you left him, but he’d take you back.”
She rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to go back or be taken back. She wanted to live. On her own. And accomplish something for herself. Yes, she was terrified some mornings, especially since the weight of this whole business venture rested on her skills not only as a businesswoman but as a fashion designer.
“When is this kick you’re on going to end? It’s been months,” her father said.
“This kick I’m on? You mean trying to make something of myself?”
“You did that already. I have the Vassar tuition bills still to prove it.”
And here came the guilt. Yes, her parents sent her to college, and she’d gotten a degree thanks to their money. She had no idea at the time that they were trying to turn her into a socialite with party-planning skills. But she wouldn’t be sorry for getting her B.A. in Art, and she wouldn’t be sorry now for trying.
“I just want you to come home,” her father said. “You never dealt well with failure and—”
“I’m not failing,” she said quickly.
“If you say so, sweetie.”
She closed her eyes and, keeping the tightness out of her voice, said, “I’ve got to get to work, Daddy.”
“Okay, sweetie. You just let me know when you’re ready to come home then.”
