On the Chase

by Katie Ruggle

  As she explored, discovering all of his secrets with her fingers and lips, he leaned back, watching her with hooded eyes. His hand wrapped around her side at her waist, his grip tightening whenever she found a sweet spot. The bottom hem of her shirt had worked its way up to her ribs, bunching right under her bra. Even his casted arm was in play, his fingertips tracing an invisible pattern on her lower back.

  Her clothes felt hot and restrictive, and she abruptly slid off his lap to stand in front of him. His eyebrows bunched in concern in the moment before she yanked her shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor. Then his worried look dropped away, replaced by one filled with raw desire.

  As she fumbled to unbutton her jeans, her hands shook. It wasn’t fear that caused the tremor this time, though—it was excitement. Reaching for her, Hugh gently brushed aside her unsteady hands and finished unfastening her pants. He looked at her, as if to check whether she wanted him to continue. Instead of answering out loud, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her jeans, stripped them down her legs, and stepped out of them, taking off her socks at the same time.

  She straightened, standing in just her panties and bra, wishing that she had one of her cute, matching sets from home instead of her desperate purchase at Grady’s General Store. Then she saw Hugh’s expression, and all of her insecurities dropped away. His gaze moved ever so slowly up her legs and over her body before meeting hers. She’d never seen anyone look as hungry as he did right then, and her entire body flushed as she realized that it was all for her. It was obvious that he wanted her…badly.

  The fascinated, heated look in his eyes gave her the courage to reach for the back fastener of her bra, but he placed a hand on her hip, stopping her.

  “Wait right here,” he ordered, standing up so quickly that she took a step back to catch her balance. “Don’t move. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t put on any clothes. Please. I’ll be right back.” He hurried up the stairs with an odd gait, a sort of run-and-hop favoring his injured leg.

  Grace watched him go, completely confused. Why was he running off in the middle of everything? He’d told her not to get dressed again, which sounded like it meant they were going to start up where they’d left off as soon as Hugh finished his mysterious errand, but it was weird standing there in just her underwear—weird, and a little cold.

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she debated whether to ignore his request and get dressed or not. Without his hands and hungry gaze keeping her warm, her skin prickled with goose bumps. She rubbed her arms briskly. This is dumb, she thought. Why am I just standing here?

  Bending down, she reached for her shirt.

  “No!” he cried from the bottom of the stairs with such intensity that she straightened abruptly, yanking her hand away from the shirt as if it were radioactive.

  “What?” she asked, holding up her hands, palms out, as if to prove she wasn’t touching any article of clothing.

  Without slowing, he jog-hopped the rest of the way to her, returning to his spot on the couch. He hooked her with an arm as he passed, pulling her onto his lap after he sat. Startled, she tumbled down on top of him. It took a few seconds to orient herself, and then she moved into her earlier position straddling his waist. It felt different in fewer clothes, more…naked. Shoving her hair out of her face, she smoothed it over her shoulder. She must have missed some strands, because Hugh imitated her action—only his hand lingered, his fingers rubbing in the best way against her scalp.

  “Where’d you go?” she asked, more curious than offended.

  In response, he pulled a wrapped condom out of his pocket. Giving her a sideways glance, he promptly started babbling. “Not that we have to actually do anything, or go any further, unless you want to, of course. I just thought, well, you were almost naked, so it seemed like a good idea to be prepared.” He paused, sending her another quick glance. “Just in case.”

  That last look did it. She broke into uncontrollable giggles.

  “What?” he asked, appearing baffled and offended and more than a little adorable. “I didn’t think it was that unlikely. I mean, is the idea of having sex with me that funny?”

  “No, no,” she choked out, trying to get her laughter under control. After a couple of deep, hiccupping breaths, she finally managed to talk. “That’s not it. I mean, it was kind of cute how you got all flustered, but I was mostly laughing because you went into the bedroom to get a condom.”

  He paused, as if waiting for her to continue. When she didn’t, he threw up his hands in an exasperated gesture that made her want to start laughing again. “So? What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing,” she said, pressing back fresh giggles. “It’s just that you left me here, mostly naked, in the living room, while you went to the bedroom to get a condom. And then you came back here.” He still looked confused. “To the living room. Most people would have just, you know, both gone to the bedroom at that point.”

  “Oh.” His expression lightened as he appeared to consider that, and then he shrugged and pulled her close with his operable arm. “True. Since we’re here now, though, we might as well make the most of it.”

  That made her laugh again. Who would’ve thought that she’d be laughing just weeks after fleeing from a vindictive mob boss? She ran her hands over his biceps and onto his shoulders, shocked by her happiness. Despite the residual shock and horror, and her worry about the meeting with Noah tomorrow, she really was surprisingly content, all thanks to the man she was currently straddling. Grace smiled at him. “True.”

  “So…” His eyebrows wagged teasingly. “Wanna make out?”

  “With you?” she purred, using her phone-sex-operator voice again. “Anytime.” She started leaning toward him, but then she looked over her shoulder.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Just making sure a dog isn’t going to stick her cold nose in my ear this time.”

  Despite the bullet hole in his leg, the broken arm, the concussion, and God knew how many bruises, Hugh tilted back his head and laughed out loud. Unable to resist that happy sound, Grace grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss.

  Chapter 19

  It wasn’t like Hugh hadn’t thought about it, because he had. A lot. He’d even dreamed about it. The reality of kissing a mostly naked Grace Robinson, however, was better than anything he could have imagined. When she’d stood in front of him and stripped down to her underwear, he’d thought his heart—among other body parts—was going to explode.

  She was gorgeous, tall and sleek, with olive skin and that silky, dark hair that he couldn’t stop touching. The only frustrating thing was his cast. He wished that he had full use of both arms, both hands. At least the pain from his headache had all but disappeared with the initial rush of endorphins during that first frantic kiss.

  Using his good arm, he flattened his palm in the middle of her back, tucking her even more tightly against him. Her skin was unbelievably soft—so soft that he felt bad about his callused hands. He worried that he’d hurt her, that he’d be too rough, but she didn’t seem to mind the abrasive contact. In fact, she made little noises in her throat and pushed into his hand every time he touched her.

  As if she’d read his mind, Grace hummed and wriggled, working her body until she was plastered against him. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath, but he honestly didn’t care about getting enough air. As long as he could keep kissing her, all was right in his world. Oxygen was overrated, anyway.

  Her hands were everywhere, touching his ears and his neck and his chest and his belly. They even flitted down to work at the button on his BDUs. His whole body jerked when he realized where her fingers had landed. When he tried to break the kiss, she followed him, and he soon gave in with a groan, meeting her lips. A faint warning bell rang in the very back kiss-drugged corner of his brain, just loud enough to catch his attention. Before he could get sucked back into their expl
osive make-out session, he pulled back.

  “Wait a sec,” he gasped, sucking in air. Grace made a tiny disappointed sound and leaned into him, her lips seeking his. Although he was tempted to give in—very tempted—he resisted the siren call of her mouth. “Are you okay?”

  Her answer was a distracted murmur that meant nothing as she struggled to get his pants unbuttoned. He slapped a hand over her working fingers. If she managed to get his BDUs undone, then he’d be undone as well.

  “Hang on.” His voice was even less than a gasp. It was more of an exhaled breath. He tried again. “Are you okay with this?”

  She glared up at him with her dark eyes narrowed. “I’m literally trying to get into your pants, Hugh. I think I’m fine.”

  His laugh was little more than a pathetic wheeze. “Okay, then. Carry on. I was just checking.”

  He thought his heart was going to stop when her hands paused. This time, when she looked at him, her expression was a great deal softer. “I know. Thank you for that. Now, quit asking. Okay?”

  “Got it.” He laughed again, but it was quickly cut off as she dragged his unfastened pants down. Lifting his hips, he helped her tug his pants and boxer briefs until they were down around his thighs.

  Their kisses gained urgency, and he nipped her lower lip as he struggled to unhook her bra using one hand. With a throaty chuckle that sent a shock wave of lust through him, Grace reached back and unfastened the bra. Drawing it down her arms, she revealed her breasts, and Hugh stared as if he were a thirteen-year-old boy who’d never seen a naked woman before.

  “Wow,” he said, cursing himself for how not-smooth he sounded. It was Grace’s fault, though, for being so heart-stoppingly beautiful that his brain refused to work right. Bending his head, he lowered his mouth to one of her breasts, and Grace sucked in a breath. Worried that she was nervous or self-conscious, he went soft and gentle at first, placing tiny, light kisses all over her chest. When she started to make eager sounds and arched toward him, he got a little more intense, nipping and sucking and teasing her nipples with his tongue.

  “Hugh,” she moaned, raising her hips toward him. “Please!”

  Grinning against the soft skin, he gave a final lick before raising his head. “What’s that I hear? Is it…begging?”

  She went still for several seconds before giving him a shove that teetered between playfulness and true annoyance. “No!” she lied, sticking out her lower lip in a pout that made him tempted to bite. “Jerk! Just for that, we’re stopping what we’re doing, getting dressed, and wearing Snuggies while we watch a chick flick.” She glared at him, and he felt a little wrong thinking that she looked really hot when she was mad.

  Then her words sank in, and his heart fell into his stomach. “Oh. Really?”

  “No.” Her scowl couldn’t hide the teasing glint in her eyes. “But I should.”

  “Thank God,” he sighed, making her giggle. Before she could say anything so horrible again, he yanked her toward him and kissed the laugh off her lips. The kiss instantly ignited, and all teasing was forgotten as their urgency grew. Once again, he wished for two working hands as he stroked her body, petting all the silky bare skin that he could.

  When she slid off his lap, he groaned in protest, but reluctantly let her go. To his relief, she just shimmied out of her panties and moved to rejoin him on the couch.

  “Wait,” he said, his voice a low rasp. “Let me look for a minute.”

  “Hugh,” she complained, color rising from her chest to her face. Her gaze darted around, her atypical shyness somehow endearing, as much as he didn’t understand it.

  Reaching out, he traced a line from between her breasts to below her belly button. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he said, feeling her shiver and twitch under his light touch. “I just wanted to look at you. You’re so stinking beautiful.”

  Her laugh sounded a little choked. “Thank you?”

  “Why the question?” Leaning forward, he laid a chaste kiss on her belly. “I didn’t say ‘stinky and beautiful.’”

  She gave his shoulder a shove, but there wasn’t much conviction behind it. “You’d better not.” Her voice caught on the last word as he kissed her hip. His pants dug into the side of his thighs, and he remembered that he was still partially clothed. He shoved at his BDUs and boxer briefs, mentally swearing at the awkwardness of his casted arm, and Grace bent to help. With three working hands, they made short work of removing the rest of his clothes.

  Naked Grace caught his attention again, and he brushed his knuckles along the underside of her breast before running his thumb ever so lightly over her nipple. Her eyelids lowered to half-mast, and she swayed. Hugh caught her, wrapping his arm around her waist and dragging her back onto his lap for the third time in the past hour. He expected her to complain about his manhandling, but she came easily, and their mouths met again.

  Hugh didn’t think he could ever get enough of kissing Grace, touching Grace. The only reason he was able to tear his mouth away from hers was that there was so much more to explore, so many sweet, soft places. When she pressed against him or made a throaty sound, he made a mental note to remember that spot below her earlobe or on the side of her neck or the high point of her shoulder.

  Her thighs were strong with lean muscle, and he ran his good hand along the side, enthralled and a little pleased with himself. After all, he’d made those sturdy muscles shake with need. Switching back and forth between her upper thighs, he teased and tormented until she pleaded with him to touch her—to really touch her.

  This time, he kept his mouth shut and didn’t point out the begging. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t utterly thrilled that she desired him that much, though. Nipping at her lower lip, he touched her center, finding her hot and wet and wanting.

  She was amazing. Their mouths battled back and forth, giving and taking, and he loved that she took control when she wanted it. Once again reading his mind, Grace made a frustrated sound and grabbed the condom packet from where it had fallen on the couch next to them.

  With fumbling, impatient fingers, she opened it and rolled it on him. Her touch forced Hugh to squeeze his eyes closed and fight for control. Grace raised her body and lowered herself on him. The feel of her around him, so hot and tight and alive, was the best thing he’d ever felt in his life. If he could’ve stayed buried inside her forever, he would’ve done so happily.

  Then she moved, settling him more deeply inside her, and his hard-won restraint was gone. Grasping her hips, holding on as best he could with his casted hand, Hugh started to thrust. He watched her face, listened to the sounds she was making, and memorized what she liked. His hips rose and lowered, his movements gaining in speed and power, and Hugh knew that he’d pay for it later, that his leg and arm and head would all take their painful revenge. At this moment, though, buried inside Grace, he knew that everything was worth it. She was worth it.

  As he sped up, her kisses grew in ferocity, until they were wild and rough and a perfect complement to the storm building between them. He watched her face, fighting to pay attention when his body wanted to lose control, to drop off the cliff into the raging water below.

  Grace was more important, though. He wanted to make her happy—needed to make her happy—and his own pleasure was secondary. It was easy to see what she liked, what drove her higher. She was loud and unrestrained, and he loved that. That was his Gracie, not afraid to say what she was thinking, what she was feeling.

  Her face flushed, and her eyes grew glassy as her body tightened around Hugh. Once again, he was struck by her beauty as she moved above him, her hair mussed and tumbling down her back, the muscles shifting beneath her skin. His thumb rubbed her hip, and he was amazed that he could touch her like this, feel her like this. Now that he knew how incredible it actually was to be this close to Grace, he knew he could never let her go, not without fighting everything inside him that urged h
im to keep her.

  With that resolve, his fingers tightened around her hips, and he pounded into her. She cried out as she orgasmed, her back arching and her head falling back, letting the ends of her hair brush his legs. He could feel his own climax approaching, but he held it off, wanting to watch as pleasure flooded through her. As she slowly recovered, a huge, slightly drunken smile took over her face, telling him exactly how she felt.

  Intense satisfaction flooded him. He’d done that. Hugh had made her feel that amazingly good. If she let him, he wanted to keep her this happy all the time. With a final upward thrust, he slid his arm around her back and pulled her close. They kissed as he climaxed, ecstasy radiating from his spine to every cell in his body. Hugh had been so focused on Grace, on making her feel better than she ever had before, that his own pleasure took him by surprise. He drowned in it, letting it strip away everything until he was raw and naked inside.

  Breathing hard, he collapsed backward. Since his arms were wrapped around her, he pulled Grace with him, toppling sideways until they were sprawled full-length on the couch. She giggled, sounding a little punchy and a lot happy.

  With a groan, he forced himself to release her and pushed himself off the couch. When she clung to him, her arms around his neck, Hugh gave into temptation and hugged her, hard. Then, he gave in to another temptation and kissed her thoroughly before finally pulling away.

  “I’ll meet you upstairs,” he said, heading for the bathroom.

  “Oh?” Her tone was too sweet, and he grinned, knowing what was coming. “I’m staying over, then?”

  “Yes.” If he had his way, she wasn’t going to be out of his sight until Martin Jovanovic was either dead or behind bars. He stopped and turned, bracing for the argument he knew was coming. “I’ll give you a toothbrush.”

  To his surprise, she just grinned at him. “Deal. Will you cook breakfast, too?”

  Hugh made a face. “If you want. It won’t be good. Also, I don’t think I have any eggs or…well, any ingredients.”