by Lora Leigh
“Okay,” Lyrica agreed hastily. “That’s fine. We’ll figure it out another way. I promise.”
She promised. Her sisters never broke their promises to her. It was going to be okay, because they’d find another way to locate Harvey. Natches didn’t have to know . . .
Zoey stepped into the garage area quietly several hours later, her gaze finding Doogan hunched next to the bike as he finished tightening something inside the motor.
He was tall, powerful, but without the bulky muscle most powerful men possessed. Doogan’s muscle was lean, appeared more natural, denser, and harder than that of his bulkier counterparts. He was at least six three, his dark hair a bit long.
“Eli has strangled the power in a variety of ways,” he told her as she continued to watch the muscles of his back flex as he worked. “If one weren’t aware of his particular genius, then the entire bike would have had to be stripped and everything replaced.”
A costly project, Zoey thought, thinking of the amount of money she now had in the motor, electronics, and various running parts.
“It’s fixable, then?” she asked.
“Fixable,” he assured her. “It shouldn’t take long either. A week, maybe. I’ll have it ready in plenty of time to win that race next month.”
She had at least a week. At least six or seven nights with him.
“You’re sure I’ll have a chance of winning?” she questioned, tilting her head to watch his profile.
“If you can control the power, which I believe you can.” He shrugged. “Once I balance the bike sufficiently, there shouldn’t be a question of winning. I’ll find a proper area where you can test it before the race, though.”
Her brows lifted. Eli fought her tooth and nail whenever she attempted to test the bike before the races. And without his truck, she had no way of testing it without Billy learning exactly how the bike performed.
Eli had helped her keep the bike running since she’d begun riding in the private races Billy Ray and his friends put together every month. She knew Eli had deliberately cut back the power the motor was capable of, though, and once Billy had informed her of it a few months ago, it had done nothing but piss her off.
She’d suspected it before Billy had come to the garage and confirmed it. Billy had even offered several times to help her. But he’d use his knowledge to win each race as well. There was no fairness in that any more than there was any fairness in what Eli had done.
“I need to get a few parts,” Doogan stated as she stood watching him. “Nothing too expensive. And I have a few ideas to fix your weight-to-balance ratio. The items I’ll need for that I’ll have to run a search for. I checked a few places in Louisville just before you came in. I may have to get them out of state, though.”
Straightening, he moved to the toolbox, replaced the ratchet he was using, then moved to the small sink to wash his hands. Drying them, he turned back to her, his gaze curious as it settled on her.
“Figures. I keep losing it in that curve as I hit higher speeds,” she told him, leaning against the back of his pickup and tucking her hands in the pockets of the cutoff shorts she wore. “Never matters how I balance it, it wipes out there.”
“You’re too light to balance and make up for the impetus you need to get around it, even with the speeds you can actually attain.” Facing her, he nodded to the cycle. “It’s fixable, though.” Then a little grin tipped his lips. One of those wry, almost amused curves. “So did your sister lecture you properly about me?”
Lecture her? She and her sisters tried hard to never lecture each other; they heard far too much of it from their other family members. Especially their brother and cousins.
“Lyrica and Eli say all your agents live in fear of working with you,” she admitted. “You get them shot at.”
He leveled a look of superior mockery in her direction.
“Eli?” His brow arched with a hint of inborn arrogance. “He forgets his job description includes such things. Working with Graham has made him squeamish.”
Squeamish wasn’t the description she would have used. Eli wasn’t a coward.
“Eli isn’t the gung-ho sort,” she pointed out. “He’s more cautious and methodical.”
“Young.” Doogan nodded. “Eli doesn’t always understand that often a sudden strike versus slipping in is the only effective way to act. A strike team strikes. It doesn’t tippy-toe.”
“And you’re a strike team?” she asked.
“I normally head a strike team,” he amended. “Eli’s been assigned to those teams a time or two. He dislikes bullets more than most agents, though.”
For some reason she had the feeling that bullets didn’t concern Doogan, and she wondered if they ever had.
“Eli doesn’t seem particularly fond of you personally, though,” she pointed out. “I thought he was going to demand to drive me home himself last night.”
Eli didn’t actually dislike Doogan, but Zoey sensed the younger agent rarely agreed with him.
“He may have made that demand of me,” Doogan admitted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I simply reminded him of the definition of boss.”
Zoey winced. Eli wouldn’t have appreciated that at all. He was young, but he had plenty of pride.
“He tends to get his feathers ruffled easily.” Doogan shrugged.
“Why are you really in Somerset, Doogan?” She asked the question before she could stop herself. “And don’t pawn me off with that excuse you gave last night.”
—
She was smart. Intuitive. Doogan had known that all along. Just as he’d known Lyrica’s knowledge of his presence in Zoey’s home would ensure that Zoey began questioning why he was there as soon as her sister left.
He was prepared for it.
“I’m here to oversee an active investigation,” he finally answered her, trying his damnedest not to lie to her. “And that’s all I can tell you.”
“All hush-hush, huh?” She peeked up at him from between thick, sooty lashes. “Are you going to get me shot at, Doogan?”
She was teasing him, and he was damned if he’d expected that from her.
“Not if I can help it.” The thought of getting Zoey shot at was terrifying. And not just because her brother would kill him.
“Well, at least you didn’t try to lie to me.” Full breasts lifted with a heavy sigh beneath the tank top she wore with the cutoff denim shorts and cowboy boots. “I would have never believed a full-out ‘No.’ Not with your reputation.”
He arched his brow curiously, finding it particularly hard to keep his eyes off those tempting breasts.
“My turn,” he stated.
Zoey inclined her head, indicating her agreement.
“How do you know so much about the agents operating in Somerset? I know for a fact Eli hasn’t given you that information, and you know a hell of a lot, even for a Mackay.”
“You know that old saying ‘the walls have ears’?” she said softly. “Farmhouses have really thin walls.”
His arms went across his chest, his brows lowering broodingly. That wasn’t a good sign, but she could go with it.
“I know for a fact when Dawg remodeled the bed-and-breakfast, the walls were rebuilt as well.”
Zoey lifted her brows and gave a heavy sigh, accepting the fact that she could give up a little information. “I stole some of Dawg’s bugs. God love his heart. He just keeps misplacing them.” She gave a shake of her head, her eyes widening innocently. “It’s pitiful. Old age, I think.”
Dawg would have a fit if he heard her say something so outrageous. Hell, it was all she could do to say it and keep a straight face.
Doogan’s eyes narrowed now. “My bullshit detector just exploded,” he warned her. “Want to try again?”
“I’ve been known to cause that.” She sighed, blinking at him with false remorse. “Dawg’s always having to replace his too.”
He just stared back at her, those brown eyes watching her as though not quite certain of the
response he should give to pull her back in line.
Yeah, Dawg had that problem too, she thought, reining in her laughter.
“So, do you want to make a parts list for me?” she asked him as though there weren’t a question on the table to answer. “I can pick everything up for you this afternoon when I go out.”
“And no one will question why?” He was going to let it go, Doogan thought, surprised at himself. Leaning against the sink counter, Doogan tried to keep the arousal from building in him and fought to keep his cock from becoming fully erect.
It was no wonder her brother and cousins were finally going gray. If he looked close enough he’d probably find a gray hair himself now.
“That was last year,” she stated with a little wave of her hand. “The parts store employees finally stopped calling Dawg when I convinced them I was picking up parts for friends while they were at work. Dawg couldn’t find a reason to suspect otherwise, so he let it go.”
Doogan grinned at that. “You let him suspect before ever going close to one of those races, didn’t you?”
Once his suspicions were aroused, Dawg would have had the races watched or been on the lookout for a title in her name.
“Guilty,” she admitted. “So you want me to pick them up or what? I assume you won’t want to risk Dawg learning you’re here.”
“You assume correct,” he assured her, uncrossing his arms to brace them on the counter behind him. “I’ll make a list for you. I may have to leave before daylight in the morning to meet with a contact, but I should be back before too late. I’ll be out till late tonight, though. It’ll be morning before I finish going over the bike and making that list.”
“Thanks for letting me know.” She nodded. “Remind me when we get upstairs and I’ll give you the spare security fob.”
Doogan nodded, watching her closely. “Are you sure you want me to stay?” he asked then, watching the frown that fitted at her brow and the somber disquiet in her gaze.
“It’s a little late to ask that question, don’t you think?” she asked him, swallowing tightly.
“I don’t want to hurt you when it’s time to leave, Zoey, so don’t fall in love with me, please. For both our sakes. Because I’d feel like a complete bastard if I broke your heart.” Why he felt the need to warn her he wasn’t entirely certain.
“Consider me warned.” She shrugged, but instead of looking at him, her gaze moved to the motorcycle he’d been working on. “I made my decision last night, though. I don’t regret it, and I won’t cry when you leave. How’s that?”
But she didn’t say he wouldn’t break her heart. She didn’t assure him she wouldn’t fall in love with him.
There would be no walking away without ripping at what was left of his emotions. He knew when that time came, she would cry. She would wait until he was gone. She wouldn’t let him see the tears, but they would fall.
Moving to her, he gripped her waist, lifted her, and set her cute, perky little ass on the lowered tailgate of the truck. Pushing between her thighs, Doogan wedged the erection he’d been unable to stop into the notch of her thighs, gripped the hair at the back of her head, and pulled her head back to stare into her oddly colored eyes.
Surprise and lush anticipation softened her features as he watched her and felt her soften against him.
“Ask me to kiss you, witch,” he demanded, brushing her lips with his.
“Ask you for it?” Her hands tightened where they gripped his biceps. “Why should I have to ask? You’re going to kiss me anyway.”
“So we both know what you want,” he answered softly, the sexual need riding harder, faster inside him. “Besides, it can be incredibly sexy when you know you have only to ask your pleasure and it’ll be given to you.”
The very thought of her asking for other, far more intimate acts had his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans.
“And if I ask, you’ll give it to me?” Sharp little nails pricked past the material of his shirt as she asked the question.
“Whatever you want, Zoey. Whenever you want it.”
“What if you’re not here?” Her breathing was tighter, faster now. “If I really want something and you’re away?”
“All you have to do is text me. Call me,” he promised, watching her eyes. “And whatever you want, however you want it.” The very thought of it had his voice darkening, the need to give her whatever she desired, sexually, tightening his balls. “And I’ll make sure you have it.”
“Kiss me, Doogan. Hard and deep . . .”
He didn’t wait. He couldn’t wait.
His lips covered hers, hard, his tongue pushing past her lips, stroking against hers, and he made zero allowances for the inexperience he knew she still possessed. One hand cradled the back of her head, the other cupped the delicate curve of her neck, and he ravished her lips, his tongue fucked her mouth.
When she asked for hard and deep, he’d seen the lack of knowledge in her eyes for what she was asking. There was such innocence . . . and he wanted to replace that innocence with knowledge. With sensual, sexual confidence that he alone gave her.
As he worked his lips over hers his tongue thrust past them, teased hers, tasted it until he swore he was becoming intoxicated by her, high on her kiss alone and loving every sweet, forbidden moment of it.
Soft, kittenish little mewls left her throat, the sound of them sparking a deeper, hotter hunger inside him, thoughts of all the sexual acts he could teach her racing through his senses.
For a moment he eased the intensity of the kiss. He had every intention of releasing her from the sensual, sexual spell deepening around both of them. He would have given her a reprieve, a chance to catch her breath. As he moved to pull back, sharp little teeth nipped his lips as her fingers jerked to his hair, tangling in the strands, tugging at them, nipping his lower lip again to demand more.
The innocent, playful act was like a match to gasoline. The dominant, dark core of male sexuality he possessed broke free, and even the small allowance he’d made for her innocence was forgotten.
He would brand her senses with him. No other man, or woman, would be enough. No other kiss would ever seem quite right. No one but Doogan would ever be enough when he was finished. This sweet, sensual little witch would always be his alone.
—
Zoey’s senses exploded with pleasure.
One hard hand gripped her hip, pulling her to the edge of the tailgate and holding her in place. A second later the hard, thick width of his jeans-covered cock ground against her sex as his tongue speared past her lips, pumping in and out of them in the same slow, destructive rhythm he used between her thighs.
He wasn’t just kissing her, he was fucking her with his tongue, possessing her with a kiss that had her vagina rippling with each push into her mouth, each hard thrust against her mound.
His lips slanted over hers, holding her in place with the delicious, explicit act before the hands in her hair began pulling at the long strands he held captive.
Sharp, intense pulses of sensation shot through her womb, straight to the depths of her core. Moisture eased along the passage, hot and sleek, spilling to the sensitive folds beyond.
Each thrust of his tongue against hers, each tug of her hair and driving thrust of his hips against the mound of her sex sent harsh, shattering arcs of sensation driving through her vagina. Her inner muscles clenched and spasmed, moisture wept slick and heated, coating her flesh, inside and out, preparing her, sensitizing her while her clit throbbed in peaked, painful need for touch.
And in the next second it was gone.
He stopped.
EIGHT
As Doogan pulled his head back, his hips stilled, the tightened sensations building in her clit pulsing in painful denial.
She ached for him. The pleasure of the night before hadn’t been forgotten and she wanted more. Needed more.
“Look at me.” The dark guttural sound of his voice had her eyes opening, her gaze connecting with his.
/>
“You’re like a fucking drug that has hold of me,” he rasped, the brown of his eyes like deep, dark chocolate. “All I want to do is taste you, fuck you until we’re both drowning in the pleasure.”
“No one told you not to.” The breathy sound of her own voice surprised her.
Sliding her hands from his chest down over his abs to the leather belt cinching his hips, Zoey began working it free. Once it was loosened, she unbuttoned the metal tab, then moved her fingers to the zipper holding the material closed.
His hand caught her wrist, the other pulling at her head, dragging her head back again. “I came inside you last night.”
She blinked up at him in shock. “What?”
“I forgot to wear a condom, Zoey.” His voice, his expression, was iron hard. “I came inside you so fucking hard I thought I was dying, and I did it without protecting you.”
Her lips parted. “You do that often?”
“I have never fucking done something so irresponsible,” he snarled, his gaze burning into hers. “Never.”
“I’m protected.” She could barely breathe. It was the look on his face, in his eyes. He wasn’t angry, nor was he fighting any possible consequences, and she didn’t want to question why.
His jaw tightened. “I don’t have a condom with me now.”
She fought for breath now, excitement surging through her.
“I’m protected,” she repeated.
A second later she gasped when he lifted her again, her knees gripping his hips. He stalked around the truck, jerked open the door to the back, and placed her on the edge of the seat. A second later her shorts were pulled from her and the iron-hard width of his cock was pushing past the already slick folds of her sex.
Zoey couldn’t help but watch.
Thick, dark, the plum-shaped crest parted the swollen, juice-laden nether lips wide.
He paused then, pulling her gaze up to him.
His shirt cleared his head without the first button being undone. She was pretty sure she saw several of the small white buttons flying from the material, though.
