by Karen Anders
He closed his eyes and froze. Everything in him taut and hard. So hard. His hips jackknifed off the bed at the sensual feel of her wet mouth sliding over him. Her tongue curled around him and he knew that the first damn time he had her, it wasn’t going to be like this. He used everything he had to focus on getting the condoms out of the drawer while she continued to work him over, give his reason a run for its money.
Finally he got a hold of them and pulled out one, quickly tearing open the packet. Then he reached down and grabbed her under her armpits, lifted her with brute force and flipped her onto her back.
“Dammit, Sam.”
“Condom,” he said. “Put it on me. Now!”
She stilled and her breath released in a heated rush right against his chest and he thought he was going to come right then and there. Focus and wait, he told himself. It would be worth the wait to be deep inside her.
She pushed his shorts the rest of the way off, her hands caressing his hips. She knocked away the condom and ran her hands over his stiff hard-on. “We don’t need that. I’m on the Pill.”
He shuddered, his voice hoarse and desperate. “Oh, damn. Oh, dammit.” He pressed a line of swift kisses down the side of her face to her lips. “Open for me,” he growled.
Then he forced her to do it without waiting, made her accept his tongue, seeking deep in the kiss. His weight spread her legs. She whimpered under the aggressive power of his body. His dick pressed to her opening. The stiff swell of his body pushed hard, seeking entry.
He was rough. Capturing her hands, he pinned them above her head, thrusting strongly into her warm, soft body. She tilted her head back and drew a sharp breath, and he felt her surrender to his invasion, arching up against his hard heat as he took her and sank deep inside.
Soft gasps and moans broke against his mouth as he filled her, her body tightening and moving beneath his. He made similar sounds deep in his throat. Every inch of her belonged to him, joined with him.
She buried her face in his shoulder as he thrust again and again, taking full possession of her in power and mindless passion—something that was so elemental, so electric and primal between them.
His arms tightened on hers convulsively from the soft slide of her hair against his skin.
She clamped around him, his dick rigid, rising beyond pure sensation. It was so different, so vivid—this was real, and all that had gone before a dream.
He needed the wonder of this, of being inside her, of being so consumed by her. He needed one place where he could let down his guard, one safe place, and he’d found it with her.
She touched him, slid her hands all over him in places that he’d craved her touch. He shuddered; he groaned her name. The feel of her was so luxurious, his body trembling as he took her, thrusting with potency instead of control.
“Sam. Oh...God...Sam.”
She climaxed, stiffened as her pleasure ignited his, and it was all he could take as waves and waves of humming pleasure washed over him. His body emptied inside her. His hips moved hard against hers in that explosive tremor.
As he began to relax, she held him in a quivering grip. Her skin still burned against his. For a long time, he just floated. Just taking deep breaths because breathing was enough. It seemed his chest could not hold sufficient air to allow his brain to think or his body to move. So he just indulged himself and lay in her arms.
Her soft caress against his back registered. Olivia. Even when it came to sex, she was arguing with him. Damned if he didn’t find it a turn-on, sexy as hell.
He lifted himself on his elbows and looked down at her.
So beautiful. So utterly beautiful. He cupped her face. She looked up at him, a match for him. Opposite, disagreeable and downright maddening.
He swallowed. He was past speaking, simply past it. He rolled and pulled her against him, holding her, holding her safe from everything that could hurt her—worrying that he would be one of those people. But how to protect her from himself.
His world shifted and twisted, challenging the status quo. Olivia was very, very special. Something very raw and painful moved in his chest.
He suddenly felt lost.
Rangers never got lost. He could have been dropped in the middle of the desert with a map and a compass and he’d find out exactly where he was. Piece of cake.
But even with a compass and a map, he didn’t think he could find his way.
He always knew where he was.
That is, until he’d met Olivia.
She made him feel lost, then found.
Reaching up, she slid her hand around the back of his neck and drew his mouth down to hers. She kissed him softly at first, then more deeply, letting her tongue move inside his mouth, letting the taste and feel of her fill him up.
And he kissed her back, her hands rubbing over his head, holding him. He gave himself over to it. Her soft lips crushed against his mouth, her breath on his skin, the taste of her in his mouth. They kissed forever, deliberately, erotically, until he was drugged with the sensation of her body moving against his, taking his bottom lip into her mouth and sucking on it like candy. She consumed him, kiss after kiss, until he got hard all over again.
He buried himself into her again. Could only think that he’d been found. Again. He could get his bearings all because Olivia showed him the way.
Chapter 9
She lay there, knowing it was morning, that the strong, warm body against her back was Sam. Even in sleep he held her, his arm a band of steel around her waist. And she thought about her behavior. Her behavior.
She had lost it. Okay, really...self-control, reason, discipline. Out the window. Really, she’d just met him and she wasn’t the kind of woman who engaged in...what would she call that? Wantonness. He brought out her inner vixen. She’d never in her life been that aggressive with a man, that forceful.
Then she thought about how he had taken her. That was a new one, too. Rough sex. He hadn’t really hurt her in any way, although her mouth was probably bruised. It sure felt thoroughly ravished this morning. There was something...primal about what she needed from Sam. Only Sam. That aggressive taking that slaked her hunger for him in such a basic, essential way that she didn’t know anything about until she’d shared it with Sam.
She couldn’t help thinking about the way he had literally picked her up and flipped her down. Almost like a wrestling move and all the erotic and exciting things he’d done after that...man...she wanted to have him all over again.
He stirred beside her and she felt him stiffen for just a moment as if he had momentarily forgotten she was there.
A breath rushed out of him, and without even missing a beat, he snuggled his face into the back of her neck, his arm tightening on her waist, his hand flattening out against her stomach.
She moved then, wanting to see him. She turned against him, her hot flesh sliding against his hot flesh. When she got to her back, he had raised himself on his elbow.
“Hey,” he said, his sleepy eyes regarding her, his lashes so long.
“Hey, yourself,” she said, reaching up and sliding her hand along his jaw. The rasp of his stubble felt good against the pads of her fingers and her palm.
As he stared at her, a big grin spread across his face and she smiled in response.
“That’s quite a grin, Captain Winston.” And it was. It transformed his face from handsome to devastating. And this was the first time he smiled like that. It reached all the way into those blue eyes.
“You put it there, babe.” He dipped his head and buried his face into her neck.
“Is that so?”
He shook his head, breathing her in. “Are you always so contrary?”
“I don’t usually have such...resistance with my partners.”
He raised his face, the grin replaced with stark to
ughness. She liked the grin much better.
“I was trying to spare you my crazy, messed-up shit,” he said.
“Sam, we’re just having sex. It’s not a commitment or anything. But the attraction is pretty powerful. I will admit that.”
He nodded. “I know, but, Olivia, I am messed up—you know that.”
“I understand. But if there is something that I can do to bring you the kind of comfort you offered to me last night even though you didn’t want to get involved with me, I will in a heartbeat. You’re a good man, Sam.”
“I hope I didn’t hurt you. It got...a bit...out of control.”
Every breath he took, she felt his washboards rise against her.
Just thinking about it made her tingle and burn.
His head descended. He took a deep breath as he locked eyes with her all the way down, his hand tightening on her abdomen.
His mouth hovered above hers, her hands sliding up his arm, molding over his thick biceps. “You didn’t hurt me at all.”
He closed his eyes and groaned softly, gently brushing her mouth.
“I...liked it. A lot.”
He growled low and took her mouth harder, and she realized that her lips were indeed tender, but that didn’t stop her from returning the same kind of pressure, taking him deeper, and it still wasn’t enough—not even close.
His hips pushed against her and she felt the evidence that she turned him on, too. Pushing at his shoulders, she rolled him to his back. Without giving him a chance to even protest, she moved down his body, taking what she’d wanted last night. This time he didn’t push back. It was a good thing, because she was willing to fight.
Later they moved to the shower, where it was more heat and steam, more of his mouth, his clever, clever hands and his ready and willing body.
Once they were sated physically, it was time to change her bandage and he did that gently and efficiently as he had done last night. Breakfast was a shared chore and consumed in companionable conversation.
“Sam, you’ll drive me to John’s funeral, won’t you?”
“Of course. We’ll handle that together.”
* * *
The service was so hard, especially with the speakers who spoke about her brother so fondly. She kept herself together until they got to the graveyard and they lowered her brother’s casket into the ground. Then she turned into Sam’s arms and cried for the loss of her only family. She would miss him terribly. There was a small reception downtown where she greeted and accepted the condolences of her friends and his. So many friends and clients.
Later, back at Sam’s, she was holding herself together, thinking how much she wanted to get the person responsible for taking him from her. She sat at Sam’s dining table drinking a cup of green tea and looking out into the sunny backyard.
Sam came into the kitchen. He’d changed out of his dark suit, giving her a soft, compassionate look. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down next to her, squeezing her hand, and she smiled weakly.
“Yesterday in the truck you said something about going on the offensive. Could you elaborate on that?” he said, leaning back in the kitchen chair.
“Since they wiped my hard drive and my brother’s, we have nothing to help us. There is no information to gather to give you the answers you need. So I propose that we bait and capture one of the men who attacked us.”
“You are something else. We. As in you and me? If I remember correctly, you were the one in my arms last night afraid of the bogeyman and now you want to storm the castle.”
She was still scared. She didn’t say this wasn’t something that made her nerves jangle, but she didn’t see any other way. “Sam...”
He leaned forward. Damn, the man was so intimidating when he was arguing with her. He put the command in commando. She raised her chin and he narrowed his eyes, his jaw hard and still sporting that delicious stubble.
“What do you propose we use as bait?”
“Me.” She wanted to do this for her brother. To hit back at whoever took his life.
He slammed back in his chair, his blue eyes giving her an incredulous look. “What the hell! No!” He went to stand and she grabbed his arm.
“I knew you were going to react this way. Just listen.”
He stopped in midair and froze, giving her an angry and exasperated look. But then sat down in the chair.
“What else can we do? I think time is important here, and these people are on some kind of timetable. They’re just corralling you. Hemming you in for something they want out of you.”
He shifted and looked away as if her words were hitting him like physical blows. For a man of action like Sam, this had to be torture.
“I fully expected them to try something last night, and after I thought about it this morning, I realized they weren’t going to. But I’d bet my next paycheck they’re out there watching us right now.”
This time Sam stood and paced away from her, his hands clenched into fists, his back muscles bunching.
She didn’t know for sure, but U.S. Army Rangers didn’t take to being forced into something they didn’t want to do. U.S. Army Rangers didn’t take well to being followed and attacked and watched.
Sam was on the edge and getting closer and closer to going off it. She was just a simple P.I. That was all. She didn’t have a lot of experience dealing with men like Sam. Men who knew exactly what to do in just about every situation, could jump out of airplanes and land in hostile territory and do their damn mission and get out. Tough men who lived by their wits and their training.
She also wasn’t used to handling a man who had so much trauma he was losing himself. Losing himself in dark nightmares and emptiness. Not sure what he was remembering was real or imagined, twisted by his own psyche.
A man who was tortured enough to break anyone, even tough, strong U.S. Army Rangers.
But there was one thing she did know. She was going to stand by him and fight for him. Now it wasn’t just about what her brother had made her promise. It was about what she had to do. For Sam. He was isolating himself from his family, from the military where he had drawn his strength and from the government who exacted such a toll on him. It wasn’t a question whether for her own safety she should run away from him, but it was about what she was risking to remain with him.
She was just as stubborn.
He might not be a team player, but she was forcing his hand and he could just accept it.
There wasn’t any alternative, and her resolve was absolute.
She stood up and walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face against his back. “If there was an alternative, I would take it. I am scared, Sam, but I’m also scared for you. At the very least, we can get some answers. I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”
He spun around his chest heaving. “What if I’m not willing to risk you, Olivia? What then?” He covered his eyes with his hand. “What about that?”
She cupped his face in both of her hands, cradling his roughened jaw. “Sam, I trust you with my life. You know what you’re doing. You plan it out and I’ll execute it.”
Indecision warred on his face as he gazed down at her.
* * *
Standing here having her look at him as if he were some kind of superwarrior only made Sam feel more like shit.
He wanted to kiss her so badly, but if he kissed her, he was going to devour her again, take her and drown himself in her. He was such a selfish bastard. He should never have let the situation get so far out of hand. But she’d been scared; then she’d curved around him, and she was soft, smelled like heaven. And what she’d said about him being safe, hit him in the heart.
He was so screwed up, and yet sex with her had been...mind-blowing. He had no other words to describe what had exploded between the
m. It wasn’t bad enough he was fragmented and floundering, or that he was carrying around regrets and a colossal case of guilt.
He’d fallen off the edge, and that unnerved him almost as much as what he’d done. It wasn’t like him to lose control, to break one of his own rules. He’d been running around the globe breaking rules for Uncle Sam since he was twenty-three, but not his own, never his own.
Until now.
“We’re trapped, Sam, and it’s up to us to figure a way out of this because I don’t know about you, but I don’t like being confined and forced into doing something I don’t want to do.”
He dragged his hand back through his hair and just held her with his other arm around her waist, his fingers gripping tighter than he should. He knew it, but he couldn’t help it. Jeez, this woman was going to be the death of him. She was right. He didn’t like being manipulated if that was what was happening here. Sometimes his mental acuity was blurred, but Olivia helped him to focus.
The whole situation made him feel a little wild, a little wildly crazy. Crap! He let his gaze run over her gorgeous hair, the soft arch of her cheek, down the side of her neck, back to her shoulder, then lower, down the sleek curves of her body.
In a situation where combat was the preferred choice, sometimes the only choice, he would have no qualms about engaging the enemy, but Olivia wasn’t part of his unit and she certainly wasn’t a commando.
She was a P.I., and a good one, that much was clear. Her intelligence and the way she handled her job... It took a high level of skill to track a Ranger, even one off his game. She took a problem and hit it head-on, and he really liked that about her.
He liked too damn much about her.
He let out a breath and with an act of pure will kept himself from touching her, but just barely.
He needed to think, not start feeling her up again. What she had said to him at the table made frustration ball up in him until he wanted to hit something hard, break-his-knuckles hard.
“Don’t you feel that? Am I spinning my wheels? Some guidance would be good here.”
