The Southern Comfort Series Box Set
Page 103
“Me?” Sadie’s tone was incredulous as he released her to examine his arm. “I’m not the one who freaked out and started manhandling people who were innocently trying to paint!”
“The walls look fine just the way they are.”
She slid her gaze toward the contrast between the old plaster and the fresh paint, arching the you can’t be serious eyebrow his way.
“Then I’ll paint the damn walls for you.”
Sadie blinked, because enough was enough. He was like a human pendulum that swung back and forth between aloof indifference and overprotective insanity. “I enjoy painting, you great lumbering idiot, although I appreciate the offer. Your manner of delivery, however, needs work. Now if you’ll excuse me,” she prepared to move past him, “I need to take a rag and get that paint off the wood floor.”
She hadn’t gone two steps when she felt herself lifted and literally tossed through the air onto the bed. Before she’d had a chance to adjust to the unexpected change in position, Declan dragged the ladder across the room. Sadie scrambled to her knees and, stunned, watched him open the window until it was gaping. With an almost effortless heave the ladder went out, clattering noisily against the metal roof.
She sputtered, positively beside herself with astonishment. “You threw my ladder out the window. You threw my ladder out the window!”
Bolting from the bed, she joined him in watching the ladder cling precariously to a branch of one of the live oaks. Even as they stood there, the branch gave way with a loud crack.
“Takes care of that,” Declan muttered.
“Takes care of that? Takes care of that!” Sadie felt her temper attain flashpoint, fueled by the flame of confused frustration. “You threw my ladder out the window. I’m not sure if anyone’s pointed this out to you lately, but you are out of your flippin’ mind. Now march down those stairs and bring me back my ladder. Better yet,” she reconsidered, because there was no telling to what that might lead, “you stay here and I’ll go get it. We wouldn’t want the voices in your head to confuse you into attacking it with your chainsaw.”
“You will not,” Declan grabbed her arm, “go anywhere near that ladder. I see you on it again and I will not be responsible for my actions.”
“Well, now. There would be something new.”
“No ladders, Sadie. I mean it.”
“You need a padded room.”
She jerked her arm. Declan tightened his grip. Another tug of war ensued, with further predictable results, amounting to Sadie backed against the wall. Wet paint soaked through her long-sleeved T-shirt.
“Let me go.”
“No.”
Declan’s hips pushed into hers. It should have been offensive, in every sense of the word, but her brain didn’t seem to be functioning. Most likely due to exposure to the paint fumes.
Or possibly a couple hundred pounds of testosterone-laden male.
She glanced up at the male in question, all grumpy and covered in blue latex. Somehow, the combination worked. He was certifiably gorgeous. Probably just plain certifiable. And she had no business enjoying the fact that he was pressed hard against her thrumming body.
“You’re crazy,” Sadie repeated, desperate to jumpstart her brain cells.
“No doubt.”
And his eyes, when they bored into hers, were certainly glazed with something mindless.
Her panting kicked up another notch. Her breath caught with an audible hitch.
Declan pressed – ever so slightly pressed – his swollen loins into her stomach.
If she gasped, she didn’t see how it could be her fault.
Nor was the fact that she returned the pressure. Any woman with even a modicum of sense was bound to struggle in this type of situation. So she did, mostly with her hips.
Just so he would back off and they could discuss his lack of reason.
Not because she enjoyed that sort of contact in the least.
Declan groaned – growled, maybe – made some kind of noise deep in his throat, which produced a corresponding shiver in her bloodstream. And she thought hell, who was she trying to kid here? She enjoyed it way too much.
Her breasts grew heavy, her eyelids fell. Liquid heat pooled between her legs. Like a switch had been flipped inside her just by virtue of Declan coming into the room.
Declan watched her going limp with desire and felt himself harden to the point of pain. There were reasons he shouldn’t be doing this – something about the wrong road, or maybe it was train wrecks – but his brain was too fogged to think straight.
Her lips parted – that hooker’s mouth – so he bent his head and tasted.
And everything that was Sadie exploded against his lips. Heat and sweetness. Vinegar and sass. All the best parts of his childhood revisited in a delicious new grownup package. There was a scent, a taste, something vague yet undeniable, that made every cell in his body coalesce with desire. “Damn,” he breathed softly, and she whispered “yes.”
They were both going to hell and they knew it.
The past week and a half of very careful no contact had only made their bodies hungrier for what they’d been avoiding.
He filled her mouth with his tongue, sweeping aside any more thoughts of resistance with utter possession. Kissing her like he was already inside her.
And he would be.
Inside her.
Just the thought made him groan aloud.
When she shuddered, murmured his name, the power of it sang in his blood.
Then he slid his hand up to her breast, stilling her protest before she could make it. “Don’t,” he said, when she would have squirmed away from his touch. He knew she hadn’t forgotten that crack he’d made on New Year’s. But he didn’t mean it.
He never had.
And he be damned if he let his immaturity make her feel diminished.
“I want to touch you,” he said, moving his thumb in gentle circles. “Let me. Please.”
And she blinked up at him and it was no longer lust. Those baby blues were so close that he went dizzy and almost fell into them. This was… comfort. Coming home.
He shook his head, because the thought was ridiculous.
This was a cheap sexual thrill in which he shouldn’t be engaging but he was going to anyway because he was a selfish asshole.
But then she sighed and trembled and pressed her breast into his hand and he had to close his eyes because it was so damn perfect. Small and round, soft and warm – it made Terri’s overabundance seem somehow obscene.
And he was a man who liked breasts, so the thought worried him for a second. Because he was pretty sure the only reason this one was so perfect was that it happened to be attached to Sadie.
And when he opened his eyes, saw her hesitation, something inside him cracked open and bled. A wound that should have healed long ago if he’d bothered to treat it, instead of ignoring it and intermittently picking at the scab.
“Sadie.” And her name was hope, something he hadn’t much experienced since childhood. She sighed and stroked his cheek. And because it threatened and overwhelmed him, he beat it down and fell back on the lust.
This was sex, and he knew sex, and she could just get on board with it and leave her emotions back at the station. He didn’t need them weighing him down. So he bit the palm that had stroked him with tenderness, ran his hands around her hips to cup her bottom. Then boosted her up to fit his working parts against hers so that she had no confusion as to where this was going. They’d been dancing about each other like an untried schoolboy and a blushing virgin. It was time to set all the bullshit aside and get down to what they both wanted.
They’d have sex. It would be good. And then he’d be able to think straight.
Sadie felt herself whimper as his erection pressed between her legs, knowing this was crazy but feeling too damn good about it to get fussy. And his kiss – dear Lord, the man had skills. The way he used his tongue, his hands, even his body. It was like a complete sexual act in and o
f itself. He pressed his lips into the hollow of her neck, his goatee tickling madly, then executed a pelvic twist that suggested he knew what to do with his hips.
As if there’d been any question.
A man as lacking in charm as this particular Murphy better have something else going for him in the romance department.
Not that there was anything romantic about this. This was sex, plain and simple. And given the crap she’d been through lately, she figured she owed it to herself to indulge.
Somehow while she’d been talking herself into this, Declan’s mouth had found her breast through her shirt. And she felt another twinge of panic, heard Kathleen saying busty and brainless, but what he was doing with his tongue felt so damn incredible that she forgot to be concerned. Then the teeth were really the clincher. Little nibbles mixed with strong suckling tugs that had her ready to scream or maybe go blind. She’d heard it said that there was a nerve connecting the nipple to a woman’s G spot, but up until now she hadn’t known where her G-spot was. Or even if it existed. But if the unbelievable pleasure she was now experiencing was any indication, she not only had one but someone had drawn Declan a map.
“Right there,” she panted heavily. As if he needed further directions.
While he normally could do without the commentary, Dec could listen to Sadie’s instructions all night. Just as long as he was the man she was instructing. And those little sounds of pleasure, the helpless moans and shuddering sighs, they were enough to drive a man to distraction.
“Oh, God. Let me…” Sadie made a couple fumbling movements with her shirt. With a practiced hand he maneuvered it from her shoulders, sucking air through his teeth because she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her breasts were so perky she didn’t need to.
“Mmm.” He rubbed at a splotch of blue that had found its way into her cleavage. “Too bad that paint’s not edible. I’d enjoy licking it off.”
Sadie blinked, eyes hazy with arousal, and then her creamy skin turned pink. “Getting shy now?” he teased, letting his tongue flick out to lap a nipple.
“In your dreams.”
“Oh honey, if you only knew.”
Their mouths met again and he shifted her in his arms so that he could ease himself free of his own shirt. He thought fleetingly that there was a perfectly good bed across the room but why take the time when this was a perfectly good wall.
And a perfectly good woman pinned against it.
Sadie felt him wrestling with his shirt and eased back so that he could pull the rough fabric between them. He teased it over her breasts, delighted in the moan that elicited. Scratchy flannel on soft skin. The little thrill of the unexpected. So he dragged it back again, pinching her nipple between the folds as he passed. Her eyes went wide, and triumph flared at the shocked pleasure he saw there.
“Again,” he said, plying her with his fingers. “Look at me like that again.”
When those eyes were dazed, he fused his mouth back to hers.
The pants have to go he thought as her tongue met his and got aggressive. He met that aggression with equal force, growing dizzy as the taste of her swamped his senses. He slapped a hand against the wall to steady himself. When it landed in something wet, the small portion of his brain that was still capable of rational thought realized that they were going to be covered in paint. So he reluctantly set her down and started herding her toward the bed.
“What?” Sadie blinked, confused at the change of venue. He merely held up his hand to show her the blue before wiping it on his jeans. Under the circumstances, he had no problem with sacrificing them for the cause.
Then he kissed her before she could offer comment, making short work of the fastenings on her jeans. Pushing them down past her curvy little butt, he yanked them off by tipping her onto the bed.
“Your turn,” she encouraged, tucking her thumbs beneath the elastic of her thong.
But he stilled her hands with a sudden gesture, wanting that particular pleasure for himself.
“You have,” he murmured, “the most incredible taste in lingerie.”
Sadie glanced down, having forgotten what she was wearing, and caught her breath when she saw bright red silk.
The elf panties, she realized. The ones that were part of the set Rick had laughed at. And the heat in Declan’s eyes as he almost lovingly removed them eased some of the hurt that particular rejection had caused.
Then she was naked, spread before him, and her inner prude said what are you doing? But he looked so sexy, raking his eyes over her, gaze so hot that she was practically melting, and she wanted him so badly that she told the prude to shut up. So this was Declan, so what, it wasn’t like he was some stranger she’d picked up randomly. But she had to close her eyes when he climbed on the bed to kneel between her open legs.
Declan, Declan, Declan…
Shut up, shut up, shut up…
When he began to stroke her she gritted her teeth to keep from screaming.
Declan Murphy’s finger was inside her… which felt so good, so shockingly good, that she shuddered convulsively and opened her eyes.
“Hey there.” His grin was evil – not that surprising since he was the devil incarnate. And he was constitutionally incapable of making it through this without a little gloating. Too many years of habit to break in one fell swoop. Her inner prude tried to make another appearance – after all, this was Declan touching her so intimately – but then his thumb found her body’s easy button, as a divining rod locates water, and she decided that evil had gotten a bad rap all these years because what he was doing felt like heaven on earth.
“Like that, do you?” he said when she moaned and shivered.
“I’m assuming that’s a rhetorical question.”
Declan laughed, and wondered hell, when was the last time he’d laughed during sex, and then slipped another finger inside her. And she was so sweet, so perfectly sweet, that he knew he had to taste her. Something in his expression must have conveyed his intentions, because she went stiff, eyes flaring with what looked like panic. So he arched an eyebrow in challenge. It worked like a charm, as it always had. His Sadie was not a woman to back down. And it was one of the most erotic experiences he’d ever had when she threaded her fingers through his hair to pull him toward her.
“Do your worst,” she whispered.
He nipped and licked and stroked her. Used his goatee to tickle the tender flesh between her thighs.
She went off like a bottle rocket and just like that he had to have her, no more playing around or straddling the fence because if he didn’t get inside her he was going to explode.
He backed off while she was still trembling, the aftershocks of pleasure leaving her weak, set a new world’s record for stripping out of his jeans and dived on top of her before she’d opened her eyes.
But then she did, blinking them open, those baby-doll blues sex-drugged and sated, and he felt so damn happy about it that he took a moment just to drink them in.
I did that, he thought, watching the flush on her cheeks cool as she regained her senses. But he wanted her out of her mind again so he nudged her thighs open to accommodate his hips.
But when he palmed himself, encountered skin, common sense reined him in.
“Shit,” he muttered, quivering at her opening like a racehorse poised at the gate. He’d nearly forgotten the minor issue of birth control in his enthusiasm to run for the roses.
Her eyes cleared and she arched a brow in question. “Problem?”
“I don’t suppose you kept any of those condoms?”
“Actually, I found a few more in the drawer in the bathroom, but…”
Sadie found herself talking to his backside as he strode quickly across the room. She tilted her head. The man had an incredible ass. But that was beside the point, because the only condoms in there were more of those Trojan XL’s.
How exactly did one bring that up?
It’s not the size of the waves, it’s the motion of the ocean, but you might want to
locate a smaller surf board…
There was pretty much no way to broach the subject with any delicacy. Then she caught a glimpse of him rolling on the condom.
Okay, so the long board it was.
Declan crossed the room, ready to hang ten.
“What?” he asked, climbing onto the bed and preparing to mount her.
“Nothing,” she said, suppressing an inappropriate burst of laughter.
He lifted that eyebrow again, suggesting that he knew where her thoughts had gone, but before Sadie could open her mouth to offer a retort he was on her, and then in her, rocking back and forth to smooth his entrance. And it wasn’t so bad at all. In fact, it was pretty damn wonderful. Hard and full, he pushed into her slowly, giving her body time to adjust. The muscles on his back bunched beneath her hands, the sheen of strain broke on his brow.
He’d never hurt her, she realized with some surprise. This was Declan, after all. Annoy her, frequently, frustrate her, yes. But she knew he’d keep her safe. A rush of tenderness mingled with lust.
She widened her legs and he gave a concerted thrust that sent him all the way home.
Home, Declan thought again. Sadie beneath him, surrounding him, hell inside him like this was about as close to sanctuary as he ever hoped to get. All the crap faded away and there was just this. Him pushing, her accepting, pulling him inside, both straining together until they met somewhere in the middle. This wasn’t a one-sided drive for satisfaction on either part, wasn’t a war or a competition. For possibly the first time since he’d hit her with his baby bottle and she’d retaliated by yanking his hair, it was just the two of them with nothing hard between them.
Well, at least one thing between them was hard. So hard, and she was so tight, and this was Sadie for God’s sake and he went dizzy and started thrusting for all he was worth.
“Declan,” she moaned, and he thought Sadie.
“Harder.”
Her wish was his command. He grabbed her leg, pushing it high and wide, angling his hips to rock deeper, faster. She was so hot, so damn hot that the friction nearly killed him. He could feel the release gathering at the base of his spine.