“I’d punch you in the shoulder, but it’d actually hurt.” She flashed him the most sarcastic smile she could muster in the face of his masculine beauty. “I think I’m showing great restraint.” She maneuvered atop the console.
Ryan’s good arm shot out, latching onto the back of her belt. She stilled on hands and knees, ass in the air. Her entire body flushed with heat that enlivened her girly bits.
“I’m showing great restraint.” His rough voice filled the confines of the SUV. It slipped into her ears like chocolate-covered strawberry on her tongue, the textured notes a potent aphrodisiac.
His hand slipped over her rump, traveled the ridge of her crack, and set her clitoris on fire without a touch. Thick fingers spread between her legs and pressed into her thigh.
“Careful, my gun is loaded,” she said, and giggled.
“So is mine.” His hand came down sharp, but not too hard, on her cheek. “Go on, before I change my mind.”
She moaned, but continued into the back and changed with his hot gaze searing her skin. Ryan and his team thought of everything. Using Khani’s counterfeit credit card and Sonoran-issued driver’s license, she had no problem renting a room on the first floor at the back of the hotel. No, she and the scary woman didn’t really look alike. Khani wore a face-full of make-up and had the complexion of a porcelain doll. But they were about the same height and build. And in the photo her hair was pulled back and her face tanned. She wondered what kind of photo-shop technology they’d used to make that a reality.
By the time they got the equipment, bags, and Ryan in the room without drawing an army of miscreants down on their heads, Piper could have dropped into the queen-sized bed and slept for two solid days. On top of the sheets. In all her clothes. Even the boots. Instead she turned to Ryan, grabbed his good arm, and pulled him into the narrow bathroom.
He looked at her like he saw the thoughts working their way through her brain as she thought them. A glimmer of amusement twinkled in his eyes, but the signs of fatigue and pain drew deep creases in his lightly bronzed skin. Piper slipped her hands under the hem of his T-shirt. The hard, hot plains of his abdomen and the smooth, snug skin covering his lady-boner-inducing-form played beneath her fingertips. She tried her damnedest not to get sucked into the tidal wave of hormones coursing through her body. But damn. When they’d been together she’d been restrained. Sort of. She hadn’t been granted the freedom to enjoy touching him, learning the dips and ridges of his torso, the tickle of fine hairs under her palm. She longed to know the taste of him. From the tip of his ear lobe to the tip of his cock.
Ryan stood with his hands by his sides, watching as she eased the shirt up his back. They worked together to extricate his right arm and head, but she guided the fabric over his injured arm with every ounce of grace she possessed. She clutched the shirt and drank him in. The swell of his pecs. The lean cords of his obliques. The bulge of his biceps. The patch on one of his thick shoulders.
Blood tinged the center of the gauze, but didn’t soak it. With measured progress, she uncovered a gash nearly two inches long and a half-inch wide. Red and pink marbled the tissue, yet every muscle in her body relaxed a degree. It wasn’t as bad as she’d expected. She tossed the bandage in the small garbage can, the shirt onto the floor, and then turned back.
His wide chest, approximate six-foot two-inch height, and those knowing eyes made her feel small. Which at five-foot seven-inches wasn’t easy. And somehow, at the very same time, despite everything they’d been through, or maybe because of it, she felt like she could take on the world.
Piper dropped to her knees.
“Fuck. Are you trying to kill me?” Ryan groaned.
While her gaze met his, she wrestled with his laces. “I’m trying to get these big-ass boots off of you. You’re covered in mud and blood, and need a shower before your arm rots off.” She tugged off each shoe in turn and then peeled off his soggy socks. Feet and sweaty clothes were about as far from sexy as you could get, but something about the act of caring for this virile man, still fully capable in his wounded state, got her hot and mushy inside. She piled his spent garments and stood. Her hand danced over his buckle, but slid around to his gun.
When Piper pulled the H&K from his holster Ryan tugged his bottom lip through his teeth. She swore she’d spontaneously combust on the spot. He was too All-American-hotness and not at all her type. Yet, her body disagreed. She unfastened his belt, eased down his zipper, and pushed his pants to the floor.
“Oh my God.” The words whispered across her lips. His erect penis jutted from a neat patch of light hair at the carved V of his obliques. “Commando.” Sure she’d seen his package before, but she’d been on her back, restrained, and under attack by his wicked fingers and mouth, and then blindfolded.
She tore her gaze from the biggest, most beautiful dick she’d ever encountered. Her gaze flashed on the shower before being drawn by his clear blue eyes. The whites of his sclera tipped toward pink from a series of burst blood vessels. Hints of wrinkles teased the edge of eyes and only added to his appeal.
“Can you handle things on your own?” she croaked.
“Nope.” He grinned, his dimples pooling deep.
“Wouldn’t if you could, huh?”
“Nope.”
Piper knelt again, trying her best to ignore his hardening length. She pulled the pants from his legs, added them to the pile, and straightened, confronting his delectable pink head. How in the hell had he fit inside her? Saliva gathered in her mouth and waves of anticipation rolled through her veins. How would he fit in her mouth? Her heart became a jackrabbit, slamming her sternum as though it was already doing what she wanted to do. Pound it out.
“Please,” she begged.
The muscles in Ryan’s arms flexed. “Let your hair loose. Then suck me off. Nice and easy to start,” he warned.
The order made her impossibly wet. She stripped the band from her hair and freed the braid, watching him as she did so. Which revved her engine—and his from the looks of things. His penis flushed red and bobbed in front of her face. When hair fanned over her shoulders she licked her lips and fisted his shaft. Or, at least, she tried. Her fingers couldn’t meet around his girth.
She glided her hand over the impossible discordance of satin smoothness and granite solidity. His mouth slackened and a quiet moan bled from his throat. Piper licked her lips. Using both hands, she guided him. His supple tip buffeted her mouth. Relaxing her jaw, she opened wider and popped his crown inside.
Holy shit.
There was no swallowing him back. Hell, not much more than a third of his length would fit. But the exhilaration of the challenge spurred her. As requested, she stroked easily, giving her jaw time to adjust.
Her hair curtained over both sides of her face, creating a tunnel vision of his sex. It worked for her, but apparently not him. Ryan guided his fingers through her tresses and against her scalp. He cradled her head in his big hand. The contact anchored her physically and emotionally. It radiated lust, but attentiveness too.
Together their tempo increased. She sucked and pulled. He pushed and groaned. Moaned. Panted. The noises he produced tweaked her nipples as though his fingers had incited her. Tears gathered in her eyes and breathing was difficult at best. Still she tortured him with her tongue and drove the pace higher.
Piper firmed her grip and worked his shaft. His hair tickled her fingers and she pumped him. The hand in her hair, always so gentle, fisted. Ryan’s hips, always still, pistoned, the cords of his abdomen rippling from the effort. When his left hand grabbed her head she knew he was lost to the pleasure.
“Oh. Fucking. Sweet. Mouth.” Each word timed with a thrust until he seized.
Hot spurts filled her, nearly choking her with the bulk of his semen, but she swallowed despite his large head stretching her jaw. Salty and a little sweet. Kind of like the man. Again and again she swallowed, relishing in the glory of his pleasure.
After a moment he pulled from her lips
. The muscles and tendons in her jaw screamed. The pad of his left thumb scrubbed her swollen lips. He knelt before her, wrapped his right arm around her, and pulled her to stand. His lips kissed a trail from her jaw to her lips and then over to the other side. The gesture, though sweet, did nothing for the orgasm she teetered on just from sucking his cock.
Seeming to read her mind—as always—he stepped back. “Strip.”
It took less than a minute to wrestle Khani’s clothes from her body. She stood, tiny breasts arched toward his heat, ready for anything.
“Sit on the counter and face the mirror.”
Dumbstruck, she stared at him. The sweat of his brow. The mud smudged on his face. The blood on his neck. Those damn full lips. Sit on the counter. Sure. Why in the world would she face the mirror?
“Now, Piper,” he snarled.
She turned her stare from him to the waist-high fake marble top. Smack. The crack of his hand meeting her bare ass snapped her out of the trance. Trust him. Piper faced him and flashed a glare as she levered her cheeks onto the cool surface. She swung her legs onto the counter and turned. Her long limbs made the task difficult. Too much leg to fit in the narrow space, she crossed them out of instinct and sat straight.
Wow. Every bit of her was on display.
Bronze waves cascaded down her back. Tear-puddled eyes peered back. They matched her hair color, but reddened on the whites like Ryan’s. Swollen lips, both top and bottom, bloomed like rain-soaked flowers. Her nipples peaked, dissident and flushed.
The heat of Ryan’s chest touched her back. Their skin, coated with a sheen of sweat, suctioned together. She found him in the mirror, but he shook his head.
“Look at yourself. How eager you are. How damn sexy. Relax back on me.”
Piper let go of everything and trusted him.
“That’s it, sweet. Give me all your weight.”
She reclined on Ryan’s chest. His broad shoulders were visible on either side of her. Her head pillowed on his right pec. Above her, his head canted toward the left, his hot gaze intent on her reflection.
“Play with your nipples,” he rasped into her ear. “I’ll take care of everything else.”
He slipped his right arm under hers and glided across her ribs, down her abs. With his pointer and ring fingers, he spread her labia wide. The chill of the marble wafted onto her little nubbin. Careful not to touch it, damn it, Ryan slipped the tip of his middle finger into her channel.
Every nerve in her body knotted, but relaxed too soon since he stopped at the first knuckle. Piper watched in rapt amazement as he pulled cream from her pussy.
“Wouldn’t do me any good to tell you how wet you are. You can see it.”
Ryan coated her clit with the moisture. It glistened under the intense light. Piper watched her nub swell with his attention and flush dark red.
“Oh God,” she breathed.
“Oh Ryan,” he growled.
He thrust his first three fingers into her cunt and pumped deep. His width stretched her electrified tissues. Time and again, his knuckles disappeared into her only to reappear slicked with her desire.
“Ryan.” She rocked her hips forward on the moan.
“Your nipples, Piper.”
She teased her left nipple, flicking it and squeezing the erect tip. His arm did a great job of abrading her right.
His fingers sank deep and stayed. He curled the tips against her vaginal wall. Piper fucked his hand, rubbing her clit on his palm. She pinched her nipple mercilessly. A choked scream filled the bathroom and it took her a minute to realize it was her voice. Hoarse, lusty moans followed. “Ryan. Ryan. Ryan.” He worked her orgasm to the end, and then used his wet fingers to cup her sex.
The gesture seemed oddly possessive and, at the same time, protective. And both set one more aftershock quaking through her body. When she went limp he wrapped her in his arms. In the mirror she saw pain draw his features.
“Your ar…”
“Shhh,” he quieted.
They stayed locked like that, both bare and spent, until the drum of their hearts settled. Together they showered, her washing them both. She cleaned his wound and reapplied a bandage. Then he took her to bed, curled his warm body around her, and slept.
It took Piper a while longer to settle. The sun streamed in through the edge of the curtains, and she wasn’t a napper. Not that they’d gotten much sleep the night before. The containment that relaxed her muscles also troubled her. She was finally free. She had all the means to find Matthew. And, yet, she fucked and snuggled like nothing else mattered. Like tomorrow the world would end.
22
Ryan fell into a contented sleep. Piper snuggled his hand to her chest and nuzzled her bottom against the front of his hips as though she couldn’t get close enough. Which was perfectly all right by him. He didn’t have much experience actually sleeping with women and he’d found the most peaceful sleep tangling his body with hers. But it wasn’t long before the intermittent shuffle of her legs and shifts of her head roused him enough to sense her unease. He allowed himself forty-five minutes. Shit, he could use a lot more, but he needed at least that to be useful.
“What is it, sweet?”
She rolled toward him and smiled. How much she’d changed in the little while he’d known her. Or perhaps, she hadn’t changed at all, but let her prickly spines retract, sometimes, and soften for him. Letting him close. Like now.
Heaven knew she’d incited a shift in him. One he’d already set into motion before meeting her, but at his pitiful pace, he may have never realized the change without her. Ryan never imagined sticking up for what he wanted, pushing a women to tears, even for her own good. After his sister’s death, he’d lost the ability to speak up, and for good reason to a kid’s way of thinking. But he wasn’t a kid anymore and it was about damn time he stopped acting like one.
Ryan smoothed her brow and laid a kiss on her lips. Nice and chaste.
“Thank you,” she exhaled.
“Thank you,” he returned.
Her mouth pursed and he kissed her again, longer this time, molding his lips to the curves of hers, tasting her sweetness. He tightened around her, buried his head in her hair, and inhaled her clean scent. Ryan figured he could live to one hundred and never be as content as he was in this moment. Even though he knew this peace wouldn’t last, his mind flirted with the word ‘love’ while his heart stuck a flag in the dirt, claiming the painful and yet overpowering feeling of adoration.
“Why on Earth would you thank me?” she asked, the heat from her breath tickling his neck.
He eased her back, until he could focus on her vibrant eyes. “You first.”
“For setting me free. For helping me when I didn’t want it. For making me see it’s okay to need it, from time to time.” Her palm skated over his face, petted the bit of scruff on his chin.
He was about to get mushy and answer her question, but one of his own suddenly took precedence. “Piper, where does your family think you are?”
“I told Ivy and Mom I was going to find Matthew. Sparrow is in rehab, and will be for a long, long time. So, I didn’t say a damn thing to her.” Her brow lifted, as if daring him to argue with that final point.
He couldn’t argue with locking Sparrow behind bars. Hell, after this mess they might just throw the key into the Pacific. But he had cause from a different aspect. “And they let you go?”
“I may be submissive in your bed, but, in case you hadn’t noticed, that’s the only place. When it comes to my family I’m the dominant.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed. If I notice any more, you’ll be flat on your back in seconds.”
She shoved at his chest and sat. Her mouth formed an O and she clamped a hand over it. “Your shoulder. I forgot. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. Feels much better with all the sand out of it.” He sat too and leaned against the headboard.
Her hand dropped and she exhaled, filling her cheeks like a chipmunk with the air. She turned t
o face him, bare from top to bottom and completely unabashed. As she should be. Her fingers coiled a small piece of her long hair before she realized what she was doing and slung the lock over her shoulder. Those bright-penny eyes met his gaze and held.
“Maybe it was the trauma of everything we went through. Believe it or not, I’ve never killed a man or even been shot at on the job. There was a knife fight once, but nothing like these past few days. Months even. Captivity was something I allowed because it was my only means of getting information.”
Though the room bordered on steamy, she chafed her upper arms with her hands. “It took a toll. One I wasn’t really prepared for. So, yesterday, when you came out of the house, I knew Gabrone told you something bad. I could see it in your eyes. I wasn’t ready to hear it. But now, I need to know.”
“Here I thought I was smooth.” He shrugged. His shoulder stung, but nothing like a few hours ago.
The click of her tongue said, ‘Sorry to disappoint you.’ “I’m figuring you out pretty quickly.”
He stalled like a mother fucker. His gaze dropped from hers, roving her naked body and finding a birthmark in the shape of Italy on her ribs. The discoloration darkened only a shade more than her light espresso skin. Considering the thing nestled under her right breast, it was a wonder he hadn’t noticed it yet. He still had so much of Piper left to discover, if only she’d let him.
Shit he hated when a woman cried. He could let her go on believing the assumptions she’d made, but she was finally beginning to trust him. And then, there was the whole him-becoming-a-better-man thing.
“Damn it, Ryan.” Piper shot from the bed. Feet planted on the tan carpet and hands on hips, she hollered. “Just say it. If he’s dead, just say it!”
Way to go asshole, now she feared the worst. Not that the truth was much better. He stood and went to her, securing her arms in his grip to keep her from fleeing.
“Matthew is alive.”
The tension in her rigid shoulders ebbed. She sagged into his grasp before a thought skewered her hope. Those keen eyes searched his face, her lashes fluttering with her roving gaze. “Is he hurt? What? What is it?”
Stranger Mine: a Base Branch novel Page 12
