by Kait Nolan
“I won’t ask if you’re sure.”
“Good.” Taking a firmer grip on his hand, she led the way upstairs, not bothering with lights. In her bedroom, she bypassed the bed and went straight into the big master bath with the glassed-in shower and dual shower heads that had sold her on the house. She was still wearing the same blood-stained clothes she’d had on earlier. Releasing his hand, she opened the shower door and switched on the water to scalding.
Ethan removed his duty belt, watching her as she moved around the room lighting candles.
Feeling a little self-conscious at the weight of his stare, Miranda snuffed the match. “I love this bathroom. It’s why I bought the house. A candlelit steam or a bath with a glass of wine is one of my favorite ways to unwind at the end of a long day of being on my feet.”
“Nothing wrong with a little atmosphere.” He set the belt aside and started on his shirt. “I like a woman who knows what she wants.”
“I haven’t been shy about the fact that I want you.” When her fingers went to the buttons of her own shirt, his eyes followed the brisk flick. This wasn’t a seductive striptease, but the heat in his gaze said it was having the same effect.
Ethan shrugged out of the shirt and ripped open the Velcro on the kevlar vest beneath. The sound of it echoed against the tile. “I like that you’re a straight shooter.” He slipped off the vest, and it was Miranda’s turn to watch with avid fascination as he stripped the undershirt up and over his head. The flat plane of his abs was every bit as toned and hard as she’d expected. Her mouth watered at the sight. She wanted to learn every dip and slope, with her fingers, with her tongue.
“Getting behind, Legs.” He curved that slow, molasses smile he seemed to reserve just for her, and Miranda realized she’d stopped moving, her hands still on the placard of the shirt.
“Can’t have that.” She stripped it off, enjoying the way his eyes followed her.
“Very nice. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a pink lace kind of woman.”
“I’m full of surprises.”
He prowled over in bare feet, hooking a hand around her nape. “I look forward to discovering all of them.”
Miranda shivered, imagining all the different ways he could explore her. What kind of lover would he be? Slow and thorough? Torturous? Demanding? Maybe a little dominant? The expression on his face promised all that and more, and it thrilled her. He thrilled her, just by looking.
Steam was beginning to fill the room, casting everything in a soft haze with the flickering candlelight. When he drew her against him, she didn’t resist, lifting her mouth to his and letting her hands explore as she’d dreamed. Her fingers traced over a scar high up on one shoulder. She knew from the puckered feel of the tissue it was where he’d been shot in the Army. It wouldn’t have been a pleasant wound, but it wasn’t life threatening. No, that scar was lower, over his ribs. That shot would almost certainly have collapsed a lung and come perilously close to hitting his spine. Her brain automatically imagined the trajectory, the damage, as her fingers traced over it. So close. So close to losing him before they’d even met.
“You’re thinking too hard.” Ethan’s fingers curved around her nape, holding her in place so he could thoroughly seduce her mouth, even as his other broad palm slid up the bare skin of her torso to cup her breast.
Miranda gave a purr of approval and reached for the zipper of his pants. She wanted skin. Wanted to feel what she did to him. To feel the proof that he was very much alive.
He’d dispensed with her bra by the time she shoved his pants and boxer briefs down his hips, and his hands closed over her breasts as hers wrapped around his cock. They both groaned, pressing into each other. He was heavy in her palm, so thick her long, surgeon’s fingers didn’t quite meet. She ran a slow thumb around the crown. Ethan cursed, abandoning her breasts and making quick work of her pants, stepping out of his own. Then he was hauling her into the shower. He backed her up against the tile, running his hands up her arms and lifting them over her head, as he ravaged her mouth. Her nipples tightened as his chest rubbed against hers, and her legs went loose, with a long, liquid pull low in her belly. The spray battered them both, sluicing over every inch, but Miranda barely noticed the heat of the water. All she could focus on was the feel of his hard, hot body pressed against hers. Close, but not close enough.
“Ethan.”
He stopped kissing her—a pity—and watched her with hooded eyes. “Don’t move until I say move.”
It was the same order he’d given her earlier tonight, and Miranda didn’t know what to do with it in this context. She wasn’t a submissive woman, but she found she liked the thrum of command in his tone. Her lips curved. “Bossy.”
“You’ll like it.”
The promise prompted another of those long, liquid pulls between her thighs. “Mmm. Okay, I’ll cooperate. But just so you know, it’s my turn to torture you next.”
Ethan’s mouth quirked. “We’ll see.”
Oh damn, now that was a challenge.
But Miranda remained still, her arms still above her head as he released her and reached for the soap. He worked up a thick lather and started at her hands, soaping and stroking every inch, making his way down her arms, across her shoulders and to her breasts. The combination of the slickness and the calluses of his fingers moving over her flesh, rolling her nipples, had her dropping her head back and moaning. The man took his time, his eyes unerringly focused on her, and she realized he was learning her reactions. When something made her breath catch, he did it again, refining and adapting the touch until she was gasping. By the time he slid one hand down to cover the curls at the apex of her thighs, her arms and legs were trembling.
“Ethan.”
“What?”
She pressed her hips into his hand, wanting him to part her, to touch her, needing him inside her to fill the ache he’d built. “Please.”
“Please what?”
“For the love of all that is holy, if you don’t touch me right now, I’m going to beat you over the head with a shampoo bottle.”
On a huffing laugh, he slid his fingers between her folds, over her clit.
Miranda’s breath exploded out. “God, yes.”
He traced slow circles, making her writhe, drawing out the tension until she almost couldn’t stand it. Miranda whimpered. When, at last, he slipped two fingers inside her, she nearly wept with relief.
He moved closer, curling those fingers as he bent to her ear. “Miranda, move.”
She dropped her arms, wrapping them around his shoulders and hanging on as she pistoned her hips. He watched her as she rode his fingers, and that was almost more intimate than his touch, as he seemed to drink in the sight and sound of her taking her pleasure. As the orgasm whipped through her, he kissed her again. His tongue thrust against hers in the same rhythm as his fingers as he wrung out every last pulse, until she collapsed like a rag doll against him.
Ethan switched off the water.
Miranda gasped against his shoulder. “That was…that was…”
“What?”
“A really good start.”
Ethan laughed and pulled her with him as he stepped out of the shower. “I like the way you think, Legs. Can you stand?”
“I’ll manage.”
He reached for the towel, wrapping it around her beautiful body and using it to pull her in close for a kiss. Her sigh had him going impossibly harder, but he held himself in check as he slowly, thoroughly dried her off, steeping himself in the taste of her. At least until her hand closed around him and squeezed.
Her thumb stroked up the underside of his cock. “Ethan.”
“What?” he gritted out.
“I really, really need you inside me.”
He jumped in her hand. “Condom in my pants.”
“IUD. So unless you have some other objection—”
“I haven’t been with anyone since my divorce.”
She brushed her lips over his again. “Then ma
ke love with me, Cowboy.”
Ethan dropped the towel and boosted her up. “Wrap your legs around me.”
She complied, tightening those long, glorious legs around his waist and shimmying until his erection was nestled in the drenched folds between her thighs. He gave fleeting thought to just turning to set her on the counter, so he could plunge inside all that waiting heat, but he had control enough to get her the extra ten or fifteen steps to the bed. Probably.
He all but sprinted the distance, turning at the last second so that he fell on his back and didn’t crush her. Before he could get another grip on her and reverse their positions, she rose above him and sank down, taking him in in one long, slow stroke.
“Oh God, you feel good.”
“Christ.” It was all Ethan could manage as her body closed around him like a wet fist.
Miranda leaned forward, pressing his arms above his head and holding him there by the wrists. “My turn.”
He could break the hold with little effort, but she kissed him and began to rock, and he forgot why he’d want to. She shoved up, bracing herself against his chest as she quickened her pace. Her breasts swayed with every roll of her hips. He wanted them in his mouth, in his hands. Even as he had the thought, she skimmed her own hands up her torso and covered them, dropping her head back on a moan.
“Damn, you’re beautiful.” Ethan reached to grip her thighs and surged into her, grinding the base of his cock against her clit.
“Yes, yes. Exactly like that,” she gasped.
He did it again, thrusting, rubbing, until her body began to pulse around him. As her climax ripped through her, she bowed back on a cry. Her sex clamped around him, obliterating the last of his control. He rolled, still feeling the ripples of her orgasm as he plunged deep. She locked her legs around his hips, digging her feet into his ass to pull him even closer, and he lost himself, spilling into her on a shout of triumph.
By the time he had more than a single brain cell firing, he noticed the faint vibration of her chest beneath his. “Are you laughing?”
“Not at you. I swear. It’s just…a few years ago Norah gave me this t-shirt that I’ve never worn. It says ‘Save a horse. Ride a cowboy.’ I was just thinking now I finally could wear it.”
Ethan propped himself up on his elbows so he could look into her face. She was flushed and gorgeous, obviously sated, with her eyes sparkling, even in the ambient candlelight flickering from the bathroom.
“I can’t decide whether to be offended by that or not.”
Still chuckling, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed a kiss to his throat. “Be very, very flattered.”
He bent his head, nuzzling along the ridge of her collarbone. “I’ll think of a creative means of payback for that when I have blood in my brain again.” As the scent of him was on her skin, he didn’t think that’d be any time soon.
“If there were a few more hours left in the night, I’d gladly spend them keeping you too occupied to actually think.”
“You have deep appetites.”
“Two. Years. A little more than, actually. I told you I had no intention of letting you out of my bed quickly once I got you in it.”
Feeling more than a little smug and pleased that he’d been the one to end her long dry spell, Ethan pressed a kiss between her breasts. “I’m pretty sure I could happily stay right here for the rest of my life.”
The hand she’d been stroking along his back froze, mid-motion.
Ethan played his own words over again and cursed his lack of functional brain cells. Lifting his head, he offered a rueful smile. “Not part of the Fun and Simple Plan. Sorry.”
“No.” Miranda framed his face in her hands. “No, don’t apologize for that. I’m all about fun and simple. But this was more than that, and I think we both know it. How could it not be after what we went through tonight?”
It wasn’t just tonight. It was her. It had been her from the beginning. And despite his best intentions, he hadn’t been able to fight his own nature.
“I have a confession to make.”
Her face shuttered, and she dropped her hands to his shoulders, her body tensing beneath him. “Okay.”
“I said I just wanted simple and fun. The truth is, I wanted to want just simple and fun. I wanted to be able to be that guy who didn’t look for more because I didn’t think I had more to give. I gave it a damned good try. But that’s not who I am. It’s not how I’m built. I wanted more the first moment I kissed you. So much more I scared myself and almost screwed everything up. The fact is, Miranda, after tonight, I don’t think I can keep holding myself back from that.”
It really wasn’t fair of him to dump all this on her while they were both naked and he was still buried inside her. Especially not as his cock was ambitiously beginning to campaign for a round two. But to his mind, true intimacy demanded honesty.
“What are you saying? What is it you want?”
She hadn’t pushed him away, so he took the leap, admitting what had been circling around his brain. “I want you. A serious relationship. To see where things go for the long term. I know it’s not easy looking at long-term with a career cop. It’s long hours, interruptions, and it’s dangerous. I know that kind of relationship comes with a lot of risk, but—”
Miranda pressed a finger to his mouth. “Stop.”
Ethan felt his heart drop into his gut. He’d pushed too far, too fast. He’d screwed up this good thing between them. He’d—
“I don’t need a recitation of the downsides. I don’t care what they are because I want more, too. With you.”
That rogue heart began to pound. “You do?”
Her fingers traced patterns on his nape, which did nothing but stir him further. “I’ve been telling myself for a long time now that I don’t have time for anything but fun and simple. But the fact is, I’ve let work consume everything else because I didn’t have anyone in my life. I’ve stuck to the party line of fun and simple because I thought it’s what you wanted, and I didn’t want to scare you off.”
“I don’t think you could scare me off.” Ethan stroked his fingers through the ends of her hair.
“Thank God.” She dragged his head down to hers. “Make love with me again. Just one more time before we sleep.”
“Anything you want,” he murmured, and captured her mouth with his. But he knew one more time would never be enough.
Chapter 14
When her alarm went off, Miranda slapped the snooze and groaned, pulling the pillow over her head from long habit. God, she hated mornings. At least today her body felt deliciously used and relaxed. Maybe she could convince Ethan of the merits of quickie shower sex before work. That would sure as hell make up for the indignities of being awake at dawn. With that in mind, she stretched one foot out toward his side of the bed.
But there was no warm, willing man stretched out beside her. In fact, the sheets were cold. Miranda pulled her head out from the pillow and squinted over where he ought to be. He’d gone to sleep with her last night. She hadn’t dreamed curling up around him. The scent of him still lingered on the pillow and on her. So where the hell was he?
Angling her head, she listened toward the bathroom. But the shower wasn’t running, and she didn’t hear any sounds of him puttering around. Surely, he hadn’t just left? Unless he got a call and she somehow missed it? But he’d leave a note in that case, wouldn’t he?
Dragging herself out of bed, she stretched and slipped on one of the oversized t-shirts she normally slept in. Coffee. She’d make coffee and figure this out. She hadn’t set up the automatic timer last night, so she’d suffer through the pod stuff for her first cup, just to kickstart her brain enough to measure beans properly. Her yen was so strong she could smell it. And bacon.
Wait. Bacon? That wasn’t one of her normal morning hallucinations.
Shuffling downstairs, Miranda stumbled toward the kitchen and stopped in the doorway. There was coffee in the pot and a barefoot, bare-chested, sexy man cookin
g bacon at her stove. As she watched, he lifted a couple of slices onto a paper-towel covered plate.
“What is all this?” Well, it was what she’d meant to say. What came out was more like, “Whasis?”
Ethan turned and smiled at her, and it was almost as good as a shot of coffee for taking the sting out of being awake this early. “Mornin’, Legs. I made breakfast.”
Miranda blinked, wondering if she was still dreaming. Then he reached for the carafe of coffee and poured it into a mug. And not one of the tiny, normal people mugs. The big, holds-two-full cups one with a picture of Grumpy Cat on the side. She whimpered a little prayer. “Coffee?”
He brought it over, setting the mug on the island. Miranda followed its path like a junkie in search of her next fix. Which she was.
When she reached for it, Ethan blocked her path. “Wait just a bit. It’ll scald you.” He reeled her in instead, lacing his hands behind her back and pressing his mouth to hers.
Because he was warm and solid and way cozier than her chilly kitchen, Miranda melted into him, twining her arms around his neck and wishing they had an hour or three until they had to be at work. This was a much better way to begin the morning.
“Mornin’,” he murmured.
“You made me coffee.”
His chest rumbled against hers. “Bit of a one-tracked mind first thing, huh?”
“Two. But you weren’t in bed when that God-awful alarm went off.”
“Sadly, there’s no time for that.” Ethan released her and went back to the stove, where he expertly flipped some fried eggs. “We’ve got just enough time to eat, shower, and for me to take you to get your car.”
Miranda picked up the mug and brought it to her lips for a long swallow. The taste of the heavenly brew brought another hum of pleasure. The man made stupendous coffee. Another few sips and her eyes felt less like they needed a crane to haul them open.
Ethan plated the eggs and bacon and brought them to the island. “Sit. Eat.”
Sliding onto one of the barstools, she gave him a sideways glance. “You’re a morning person.”
