In Safe Hands (Search and Rescue Book 4)

by Katie Ruggle

  “Barely,” she said in exaggerated relief. “I’m shocked the toothy one didn’t chew on me while I was sleeping.”

  Chris snorted. “Like you ever sleep.”

  “Hey! I did a pretty good job last night—this morning really.”

  His smirk turned smug as his eyes narrowed in a way that made her wiggle on the counter. “Yeah, you did. Wonder why that was.”

  “I’m not sure.” Although her cheeks were hot and her stomach was squirmy, she faked nonchalance. “Whatever the reason, it was nice to sleep so deeply. My dreams were really good, too.”

  “They were?” He shifted toward her, and her breathing got faster, though not from fear that time. “What were they about?” His next step brought him close enough that her knees almost touched his thighs.

  “Um…” Distracted, she stared at the half inch of space that separated them before raising her head to meet his eyes. “Fireman Steve.”

  With a growl, he lunged forward and yanked her off the counter, turning her laugh into a shriek. He held her steady, but she still wrapped her arms and legs around him, both to keep from falling onto the tile floor and just because she had the right to hold him now.

  “I’m kidding,” she giggled, hugging him tighter. It was hard to remember how she’d managed to keep her hands off him for eight years. Her willpower was extraordinary, she decided. “Fireman Steve had no role in my dreams, not even a walk-on part.”

  “He better not have.” Although Chris’s voice was still growly, she had a feeling the current rasp had more to do with the feel of her in his arms than jealousy. He tucked his face into the crook of her neck and was doing really interesting things with his teeth, things that raised goose bumps from the spot below her ear where he was nibbling, all the way to her ankles. She tilted her head to give him better access.

  “Oh!” she breathed when those clever teeth closed on her earlobe. “That’s very nice.” At any other time, she would’ve been embarrassed by her inane words, but now she was too preoccupied by how he could reduce her body to helpless shivers with such a simple action.

  His chuckle vibrated against her skin, bringing another quiver in her chest. “I aim to please.”

  “Well, your aim is excellent.” She sucked in an audible breath when he bit on the muscle sloping from her neck to her shoulder. “That’s a bull’s-eye, right there.”

  With a rumbly laugh, he raised his head from her throat and kissed her square on the mouth. By the time he pulled back a fraction of an inch, she’d forgotten where they were. Her world had narrowed until she was aware only of Chris, the way he was pressed against her, and how his breathing was visibly fast and hard, showing her that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

  Resting his forehead against hers, he said in that wonderful, deep and rough voice, “I have to run out to my truck.”

  It took a moment for his words to penetrate. When they finally did, she frowned and pulled back her head. “You’re leaving?”

  He grinned at her. Even in her annoyed state, she was so happy to see the return of his wide smile. “Not to leave. I just need to grab the supplies I bought after I left your house this morning.” At her raised eyebrows, he corrected himself. “Fine. Afternoon.”

  “Supplies?” When the lightbulb flickered on in her brain, she immediately felt foolish. “Oh, supplies! Right. I’ll just…ah, uncling myself, then.”

  His laugh regained its gravelly texture. “I like it when you cling.” He tightened his arms, as if to demonstrate.

  “Me too, but it makes going outside a little tough for you.” Although she tried to laugh, one of his hands slid over her butt, turning the sound into more of a hiccup. His face was in her neck again, and she almost melted, only remembering his necessary errand the second before she forgot everything except his mouth.

  Reluctantly, she released him, her legs unhooking from around his waist and her arms dropping from his shoulders. His grip kept her dangling several inches off the floor.

  “Chris?”

  “Hmm?”

  Loving how the sound felt on her neck, she shivered and resisted the urge to reestablish her hold on him. “Supplies, remember?”

  For a moment, she thought he would ignore her. Daisy was surprisingly okay with that. Just as she was losing herself in his ministrations, he sighed and gently lowered her until she was standing on the floor. Her legs were as wobbly as they ever got post-panic attack, and she grabbed him to keep her balance.

  “Okay?” he asked once she’d steadied.

  She smiled up at him. “Perfect.”

  As he looked at her, his grin turned predatory. He leaned down but then stopped. With a groan, he took several steps back and turned his face to the side. When his gaze met hers again, Daisy could feel the heat of his eyes, even across the space that separated them.

  “Be right back.” The slam of the inner door came shortly after his words.

  Dazed, she stood for a moment, smiling. Then she realized she was wasting precious preparation time. Glancing down at her clothes, she cringed and ran for the stairs. Her usual yoga pants and hoodie did not scream sexy, and she wanted Chris to look at her and not be able to breathe—but in the best, non-life-threatening way, of course.

  Skidding around the top of the stairs and dashing into her bedroom, she dug through her dresser drawers.

  “Why do I have so many sports bras?” she muttered, slamming one drawer closed and yanking open the next. “Would it be too much to ask to own one thing that’s sexy?”

  Time was ticking, and Chris would be back knocking on the front door in just seconds, so she gave up on her lingerie treasure hunt. Vowing to do some online shopping as soon as she could, Daisy pulled her hoodie over her head. Her tank top underneath was formfitting, so she was just going to have to be satisfied with that.

  When she glanced in the mirror, she bit back a startled shriek. The quick removal of her sweatshirt had charged her hair with enough static to make the strands float around ear level. Her face was red from exertion and nerves, and she pressed her palms to her hot cheeks with a groan as she headed for the bathroom.

  A little water and a quick brushing tamed her hair, although there wasn’t much she could do about her red cheeks except calm down, which wasn’t going to happen anytime soon—not with Chris getting supplies. As if the thought had conjured him, she heard his distinctive, aggressive knock. She hurried to the front door, took a second to get herself together, failed at regaining any kind of composure, and pressed the unlock button.

  Before she could even take a bracing breath, Chris was inside and had her pressed against the wall in the entry. Her nerves vanished, overtaken by excitement and arousal and sheer happiness as she returned his kiss. Without letting go of each other, they made their way upstairs, tripping on the steps and bouncing off doorframes as they blindly found their way into her bedroom.

  Pulling back to yank his shirt over his head, Chris paused with just his abs revealed as he stared over her shoulder.

  “What?” she asked, tugging impatiently at the fabric.

  “Your window’s open.”

  She turned to stare at it, unable to believe she’d forgotten. The whole time she’d been frantically searching her underwear selection, there’d been nothing between her and the world except for a flimsy screen. “I know.”

  His gaze snapped to her. “Did you open them, or did Fire?”

  “I did.”

  He searched her face, and then he smiled. “Good for you.”

  Although she glowed with pride on the inside, she tried very hard to keep her expression blasé. “Thanks. Now are you going to strip, or what?”

  After staring at her for a startled second, he laughed and yanked the shirt over his head. “Happy?”

  Her eyes fixed on his chest. In the fading evening light, the shadows and highlights made him look like a
piece of artwork. Daisy raised her hand, wanting to touch, but she hesitated before making contact. Losing her nerve, she started to drop her arm to her side, but Chris caught her fingers.

  Pressing her palm to his chest, he held it there until she started moving her hand, stroking over the wiry hair and soft skin that covered the muscles beneath. She’d seen him without his shirt before, and she’d wanted to touch so many times. It was hard to believe that she actually had her fingers on Chris now. A laugh escaped as she raised her other hand to join the first.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked, his smile starting to grow.

  “Nothing,” she told his belly button as her fingers traced the grooves between his ab muscles. “I’m just glad we’re doing this.”

  Skimming his hands up her arms and over her shoulders to cup both sides of her jaw, he tilted her face toward his. Dropping his head, he brushed his lips over hers, connecting with the slightest of pressure. “Me too.” He paused, hovering just over her mouth. “God, you have no idea how glad.”

  Her fingers dropped low enough to dip into the waistband of his BDUs, and his teasing ended. With the kiss, he took over her mouth. Forgetting about her plan for cautious exploration, Daisy let her hands mindlessly roam over his sides. He walked her backward, his lips never leaving hers, until her legs bumped against the bed.

  The need for oxygen forced her to pull away. As she sucked in air, Chris took the opportunity to peel her tank top over her head and toss it aside. Dropping to his knees in front of her, he kissed her heaving stomach, exploring her so thoroughly that Daisy could tell he was as fascinated by her body as she was by his.

  “When we were working out in your gym,” he breathed, following the line of her lowest ribs with just his fingertips and leaving goose bumps in his wake, “I’d catch myself staring at you all the time. I can’t believe I actually get to touch you.”

  “I know the feeling.” Her voice caught on the last word as Chris used his teeth to scrape against her skin. “Especially when you wear those pants that look like they could slip off your hips at any second. It’s hard not to stare.”

  “At least I don’t wear Spandex,” he growled, moving to a new spot to torture her there. “Those new outfits you’ve gotten since the others started working out with us…” The sound he let out was full of frustration and longing. Although she knew it shouldn’t make her happy, she couldn’t erase her smug smile. It was just so satisfying to know that she hadn’t been the only one wanting what she thought she could never have.

  With a final nip that made her gasp in the best way, he stood and circled her waist with his hands. Dipping his head, he kissed her lips as he slid his fingers higher, until they traced the bottom edge of her sports bra. Daisy stood on her tiptoes so she could press her mouth harder against his.

  He pulled away as his fingers circled around to her back, still fingering her bra. “What’s the trick to this?”

  For some reason, that made her snort a laugh.

  “No, seriously.” Despite his words, he was grinning, too. “Are there hooks? A zipper? A hidden keyhole? A secret password? Because it seems awfully tight just to pull off over your head.”

  She was almost laughing too hard to be of any help, but she managed to peel off her bra, yanking it over her head and flinging it across the room. “See? It’s like magic.”

  “Yeah.” His face was serious, and the heat in his eyes as he stared at her bare breasts sucked all the desire to laugh out of her, leaving only need. “Magic.” He covered her with his hands and then his mouth, and her knees went wobbly. Half-sitting and half-falling, she plopped onto the bed, Chris following her down.

  As he worked his way up her neck, she stroked his head and down his back, pressing into the muscles running along his spine so she could both feel and hear his groan of pleasure.

  “I need to get some pretty bras,” she said, her breath catching on the last word as his teeth lightly scored the side of her neck. “I have too many”—she lost track of what she was saying for a moment when he moved to just beneath her ear—“sports bras. They’re not very sexy.”

  “Everything you wear is sexy,” he said against her throat. “You could make granny panties hot. Or a flannel, one-piece Union suit. Or those plastic clogs—even the orange ones.”

  She was laughing again, and he caught the sound with his mouth, turning it into a needy moan. It was different than she’d expected. Even in all her daydreams, she’d never imagined that sex with Chris would be so much fun. When he nipped at her lip, making her gasp, she lost track of her thoughts and just felt.

  Taking his time, he explored her body, touching and kissing and telling her why each part was his new favorite. He loved her ears because of the way she’d tuck her hair behind them, and her toes just because they were cute. Her elbows made him a fan when she’d jab him teasingly. He knew she could use them to really hurt him if she tried, but she never did, even when he was at his most annoying. The indentation above her breastbone reminded him of how vulnerable she was, and her biceps of how strong. Chris told her how he loved her knees and her shoulder blades, the back of her neck, and her belly button.

  By the time he was finished cataloging her assets, she was panting and sweating and so worked up she was ready to scream. That was when he donned a condom and slid inside her, and she was ready, more than ready.

  “God, you feel amazing,” he groaned, and then he kissed her fiercely. Locking her fingers in his hair, she pulled his head down, needing him as close as she could get him. Not breaking the contact of their mouths, he started to move, and the wonderful pressure began to build again.

  Tangling her legs around him, she tugged at his hair, wanting to make him as frantic as she felt. His breath caught, and he pulled back far enough to study her face. After a few seconds, he bared his teeth in a wild grin and lost control.

  His patience from earlier was gone, smashed to bits, but Daisy didn’t care—in fact, she reveled in his urgency. She clung to him and lost herself in the heat and pleasure of the motion. It was fast and hard and shoved Daisy over the edge into bliss before she even knew her climax was coming. She clutched at his shoulders as she rode the unexpected wave of ecstasy, aware that she was digging her short nails into his skin again, but unable to let him go. Chris didn’t seem to mind her roughness. In fact, he matched it with an intensity of his own, driving into her until he found his own pleasure.

  After he disposed of the condom, they lay tangled together, sweaty and breathing harder than after their toughest cross-fit workout, and a breeze from the window swept over them. It would’ve been too cold if she’d been alone. Since Chris’s lax body covered most of her, Daisy felt the air touch only her cheeks and one arm. It was perfect, a sign that she was moving forward—with Chris, with letting go of her fears, with her life. Suddenly filled with such euphoria that she could almost feel her body floating off the bed, she tightened her arms around Chris, her rock.

  He stirred in response, pushing himself up so he could look at her face.

  “Okay, Dais?” He brushed a damp strand of hair off her cheek, and she remembered him telling her how much he loved that hair and that cheek. She smiled.

  “I don’t know if I mentioned it tonight.” She mirrored his motion on his much-shorter hair. It wasn’t long enough to hang in his face, but she brushed it with her fingers anyway. “Since you were talking so much, I couldn’t really get a word in edgewise.”

  With a mock insulted look, he began to tickle her. He seemed to instinctively identify all of her most sensitive spots, and he ruthlessly took advantage of that knowledge. When he’d reduced her to laughing, pleading exhaustion, he finally showed mercy.

  “You were saying?”

  Wiping the mirth-induced tears from her eyes, she tried to glare at him. It was difficult to do while she was still giving the occasional hiccup of laughter. “What I was saying, before that unprov
oked attack, was that I love you—as in love-love you.”

  “You love-love me?” He appeared to be holding back a smirk—not very successfully. “Is the double love different from the single love?”

  When she shoved his shoulder, he didn’t budge. “I mean that I love you, and not in a just-friends way.”

  “I know.” He rolled off her and stood next to the bed.

  She frowned at his smug tone. “That’s not the right response.”

  “Fine. I love you, too, in not a just-friends way. Is that better?” His grin was too contagious, and she fought returning it.

  “Not really,” she grumbled. “Maybe in about twenty years, when we’re an old married couple, and this is old hat, but it’s pretty new hat right now, so I was hoping for a little more passion—eep!”

  He picked her up and swung her off the bed, ending her monologue. “Shower?”

  A shower sounded wonderful. Everything with him sounded wonderful. “Okay. Race you.”

  * * *

  “Okay. What is up with you?” Lou demanded.

  “Me?” Although she tried, Daisy couldn’t stop smiling. “Nothing.”

  “Uh-huh. Liar. Who else here thinks Daisy’s lying?” She raised her hand, and Rory and Ellie joined her.

  Laughing, Daisy caved. “Fine. Chris and I are kind of…well, we’re dating now.”

  While Lou whooped with excitement and Ellie called out her congratulations, Rory looked confused.

  “I don’t get it. Weren’t you dating before?” she asked.

  “We were just friends,” Daisy explained. Lou coughed and raised her hand again. “We were!”

  Once the laughter died down, they asked her a million and one questions. When she was blushing hot enough to spontaneously combust, she called a halt to the interrogation.

  “Aren’t we going to talk about the murder? Isn’t that why we’re meeting tonight? Please?”

  “Fine.” Lou conceded, flipping to a blank sheet on the oversized notepad. “Who wants to talk about dead people?”

  “First,” Ellie said, her expression changing from amusement to concern, “I want to talk about Daisy’s gas leak yesterday. What happened?”