by Desiree Holt
The hot water did nothing to cool her desperate need as he stroked and caressed and teased. When two soap-slicked fingers slid into the cleft of her ass she felt liquid gushing from her opening. She wanted his fingers in there again, in that tight little ring of muscles at the entrance to her rectum, pushing inside her. The muscles still remembered the feel of his intrusion and screamed for it again. His big hand resting at the base of her spine held her in place and all she could do was try to push her ass back at him, wiggling it in silent invitation.
“You want it, don’t you.” A statement, not a question. His voice was hoarse and deep as he moved his fingers back and forth, touching the puckered rosette but not opening it. “You’re still a virgin in so many ways but you love wild sex, don’t you, little girl. I wonder just how wild you’re willing to be.”
She moaned as he traced the shell of her ear with the tip of his tongue, all the while his fingers were stroking, stroking, stroking.
“You’re in my blood, little girl. Like a drug I can’t wash out.” He bit down lightly on her shoulder. “I’m in yours too, aren’t I? Ever since that first night.”
“Yes.” She forced the word out, the only word she seemed able to manage, unwillingly to give voice to it but unable to lie to him.
“Would you like me to tell you what I’d really like to do to you, little girl??”
Her tongue was so thick she could only nod, all powers of speech having fled.
One of his big hands stole around in front of her and moved in lazy circles at the top of her sex, a deliberate whisper away from her clitoris. “Would you let me tie you up, little girl? Use a vibrator on you? Spank you? Keep you on the edge of orgasm for so long you’d beg me to let you come? Is that more than you bargained for, Miss Taylor Scott?”
Oh, god. The walls of her vagina vibrated with hunger as dark images of his whispered demands flooded her mind. Things she’d never done, never thought of. Forbidden things. And she wanted to do them all with him, her jungle warrior, the panther whose lightest touch could make her lose all sense of herself.
“Would you?” he prompted, demanding an answer.
Taylor swallowed and nodded her head.
“No, say it. I want to hear the words.” His fingers teased at her anus again, setting off a riot of sensations. “Say it and I’ll make you come.”
Oh, god, please. Yes. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I want you to tie me up. Spank me.” The words came out in a rush. “Do whatever you want with me.”
Oh, God, what was she getting herself into?
“You aren’t scared? I like a lot of things that could send you screaming back to Tampa.” In a low voice he told her in explicit terms exactly what he wanted to do with her. “Those aren’t the nice, neat kind of things you know about. You’d run like mad.”
She shook her head. “No. I won’t. Oh, please.” The plea burst from her mouth.
He kissed her cheek. “You’re such a wildcat underneath that repressive upbringing. You were a wildcat today, shredding those people and they didn’t even know it.” He licked her ear again. “You got me so hot watching you I wanted to rip your clothes off right then and shove my cock into you until you begged for mercy.” He backed off a little. “But not tonight. Tomorrow you’ll be thrown to the wolves again. Tonight is to make you feel good and sleep well. And dream about me.”
As he finished speaking he slid one soapy finger into her ass, pushing past the tight sphincter muscle with a force that had her gasping.
Oh, yes, she’d dream about him tonight.
In and out he stroked, the initial burn receding to a pleasurable pain that suddenly became not enough. She pushed back against his finger and he laughed, a low, throaty sound.
“Soon, little girl. Not tonight but soon.”
She was melting inside, her legs threatening to fold beneath her. When he moved the hand now resting against her soft belly and pinched her clit she nearly screamed. Instead she clenched her teeth and it came out as a strangled moan. She could feel his thick, magnificent cock brushing against the side of her thigh. His dark chest hairs tickled her arm. The jungle sense of him—the panther—surrounding her.
Taylor moaned again and rocked her pelvis into his hand, then back into the finger still stimulating the hot, dark tunnel of her ass. Forward and the friction against her clit increased. Back and she was impaled on the probing finger. Forward. Back. Forward. Back.
He put his mouth next to her ear. “Come for me, little girl. Let me feel that cunt ripple around my fingers and your juices spill into my hand.”
He shoved two fingers into her pussy, both of her channels now manipulated by his wicked fingers. With a gasping cry she came, shudders racking her body, a scream at the intensity of it ripped from her throat. Her vaginal walls gripped his fingers, pulsing, her juices dripping down to mingle with the shower water spraying them. She couldn’t stop rocking, her body demanding that his fingers never leave her, never stop their erotic dance in her body.
If his body hadn’t been pressing her into the wall she’d have melted into a pile of nothing on the floor. At last the spasms subsided. When every quiver had disappeared, he withdrew his fingers and leaned her against the wall while he soaped himself and rinsed.
As gently as if he was carrying a baby, he lifted her out and dried them both. She was grateful for his hold on her. A bowl of gelatin would have had more control. Every muscle was loose and lax, her body nerveless. When he carried her into the bedroom she leaned into the hard wall of his chest, her arms loosely around his neck, face pressed into his shoulder. She could have stayed there forever and never been unhappy.
The bed felt soft when he placed her in it, the sheets cool and smooth against skin still flushed from the shower and her orgasm. Fingers that had moments ago made her shatter now caressing her cheek with a gentle touch. With whatever part of her brain still worked she wondered at his gentleness tonight and where it had come from in this hard unyielding man.
He rolled her onto her back, spread her legs and leaned down to plant a soft kiss on her sex. After settling her on the pillows, he pulled on his clothes he’d left on a chair. Then he bent and kissed her cheek. “Sleep well, Taylor.” His voice had a strained quality to it.
Something pricked at her brain. “We didn’t… You didn’t… I mean…” She was confused. Why had he not satisfied himself? He’d been hard as a rock. Still was.
He shook his head. “This wasn’t about me.”
Then he was gone.
Her eyelids were so heavy she could hardly keep them open. As she drifted off into deep sleep, her bronze warrior drifted across the edge of wakefulness, naked and proud, a look of hunger on his face.
* * * * *
Noah closed the door to his suite softly so as not to disturb anyone but he really wanted to slam it, as hard as he could.
God damn it.
He was out of his fucking mind. In such big trouble he couldn’t figure a way out. Bad enough that he’d taken Josiah’s daughter to bed when he was supposed to be checking her out for the old man. Bad enough that he’d fucked her blind. Himself too. That he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her since he walked into her office. But to lose all common sense now where she was concerned was unthinkable. Yet that’s exactly what he’d done.
This was a lot more than his cock leading him around. That he could deal with. This woman was in his blood and devouring him. Reaching places he’d guarded for years and breaching them without even realizing it.
Since the night Josiah had found him and helped him put his life back together, he’d exerted to most rigid discipline over his mind and body. No more emotional loose ends. No more cracks in the armor to crumble his hard-won foundation. He set about creating the man Josiah encouraged him to be. No one did corporate security better than he did, his private life little more than a footnote in his existence. Then Taylor Scott had stumbled into his life. Literally. And nothing had been the sam
e since then.
He couldn’t open himself up to that kind of damage again. He had no resources left to deal with it. Yet here he was, smashing his own good intentions with daily regularity.
Fuck!
He stripped off his shirt and pants and tossed them on a chair. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and dropped his head into his hands. He had a responsibility here. To Josiah, to Arroyo and to Taylor Scott. They were surrounded by assassins, literally and figuratively and he’d bet his last nickel tonight was only the first of many attempts to get rid of Taylor much as they had her father. The two of them were tiptoeing through treacherous waters and all he could think about was that enticing body, that hot mouth and delicious cunt.
If it was just her body tempting him he might be able to handle that. Find someone else and satisfy this raging lust consuming him. But damn it, she was smart too. And full of wildfire. Just like the old man. She’d walked into the lion’s den today, only she’d been the one with claws. The beauty of it was the people wouldn’t even know they’d been clawed until they started bleeding.
He allowed himself a brief smile as he thought of ice-cold Kate Belden who’d thought she had Josiah tied around her finger. And Paul Hunter who Noah was sure used his position as corporate counsel to hide things from Josiah.
Only Josiah had been too smart for them. Someone had made a slip somewhere and he’d begun to look for answers. So they’d taken him out, hoping to wrest control of the company away from the board and continue whatever games they were playing.
He was sure it was Paul and Kate, although as yet he had no proof. Probably others too but they were in it ass deep. And now that they’d weathered the shock of Taylor’s appearance they’d regroup and paint a target on her back too, just as they had today. Noah had good men on his team but Taylor’s safety was his responsibility alone. He’d turned over the running of the Security Division to Mark Jensen, his assistant director, so he could devote himself to this one hundred percent. He just hadn’t thought he’d be devoting so much of it in bed.
He pushed himself off the bed and began pacing the room. Letting his emotions get involved would be the end of everything. He knew what a trap that was. Taylor Scott wasn’t someone who could look at his past, at what he was and shrug it off. And he didn’t need another tragedy in his life.
For ten years he’d kept a tight control on himself. Now this woman had moved in under the radar and was destroying all the walls he’d erected. He’d walk away from this if he could. Pack a suitcase and disappear. But that wasn’t an option. He had a debt to pay and he planned on paying it in full.
The problem was for once he was faced with a problem that he had no answers for, no solutions. Only an impending sense of disaster.
* * * * *
Taylor woke early, filled with a strange mixture of lassitude and energy. Lying in bed she wondered if the whole scene with Noah last night had been a dream. No, not a dream but an incredible experience. She stretched, feeling the wonderful softness in her muscles and recalling the tender care with which Noah had bathed her and massaged her.
Last night had been strange. On the one hand he had been demanding, flaunting his sexual power over her, leaving her with wild fantasies. On the other he’d been gentle and tender, two things she had trouble ascribing to him. He’d soothed her and caressed her until her muscle were as limp as yesterday’s lettuce. Then he’d given her an orgasm that had taken her breath away and left her even more undone.
Words popped into her brain as she remembered his dare to her. His graphic description of what he wanted to do with her. To her. She blushed as she remembered the explicit nature of his words but at the same time that lure of dark, forbidden pleasure beckoned her. She felt moisture gather in the folds of her sex and she squeezed her legs together, trying to still the tremors that undulated through her vagina.
Before her arrival in San Antonio her sexual experiences had been limited to a few very inept lovers. Then Noah Cantrell had exploded into her life and she was off on an erotic roller coaster that showed no signs of slowing down.
Sighing, she pushed herself out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. No time to fantasize this morning. She had a long To-Do list this week.
The first thing she did was ring the kitchen for her coffee. She had just finished showering when a tap at the door announced its arrival. She raised her eyebrows in an unspoken question as Jocelyn herself carried the tray in.
“I didn’t mean for you to fetch and carry for me,” Taylor protested.
Jocelyn gave her a tentative smile. “I don’t mind. I thought this would give us a minute each morning to see what you needed from me during the day.”
Will I ever get used to this?
She cleared her throat. “As a matter of fact, I do have something I need to go over with you. I have a guest arriving today. A client of mine from Tampa. I’ll be picking him up at the airport after I leave the office. Do we have a place to put him?”
Jocelyn actually laughed. “Taylor, we could probably put up a battalion of Marines if we had to. Do you want him near you?”
“It doesn’t matter one way or the other. He needs a quiet place to work on a project and I offered him my hospitality. But I’ll need you to make sure he gets fed and watered properly.”
“No problem. Would you like to do something special for dinner?”
Taylor shook her head. “No. I think we’ll eat in here. Noah will be joining us.”
Jocelyn couldn’t hide the curiosity that flashed in her eyes but she just nodded.
Noah was standing in the foyer, waiting, when Taylor emerged from her suite. She searched his face as discreetly as possible for some sign of what last night had been all about but his face was its usual mask.
“Ready?” His voice was equally as unemotional.
“All set.”
She’d never flown in a helicopter before last night and that trip had been so short and her adrenaline pumping so hard she remembered little of it. At first her stomach did the tango but her body settled down after a few minutes and she tried to enjoy the scenery below.
Noah, sitting in front of her next to the pilot, gave her head phones so they could talk during the trip. He pointed out the more well-known sites—the Alamo, the Riverwalk, Hemisfair Park, the zoo.
“When we get things under control,” he told her, “you’ll probably want to do some sightseeing.”
“Yes. I’d like to. All I’ve seen of San Antonio so far is…rooms.”
She started to say hotel rooms and offices but bit her lip. She was very conscious of Noah in the small cabin. Even though they weren’t touching, ignoring his powerful presence and the sexual energy radiating from him was impossible.
When he shifted position his muscles moved like those of the sleek panther he reminded her of, rippling smoothly beneath the civilized fabric of his suit. His face wore its usual taut expression but his black eyes smoldered behind the cover of thick lashes. His spicy scent drifted past her nostrils. He might try to hide it but last night still lingered with him too. She wondered if he felt the sparks arcing between them as sharply as she did.
Again she reminded herself how crazy this was. Danger was everywhere, Josiah had been murdered, one attempt had already been made on her life and she couldn’t make her body behave where this arrogant man was concerned.
She needed a distraction. “I didn’t see Charlie at the helipad.”
Noah nodded once. “He’s driving the Expedition into town so he can scout the roads. He’s got one of the hands riding with him today just in case.”
She sucked in her breath and tiny fingers of fear skittered over her spine. “You think someone’s keeping track of us?”
“Of course.” His eyes narrowed. “Last night’s episode was hastily planned. That’s why it didn’t come off more smoothly. As it was, they almost had us. But you can bet they’re watching and tracking every move you make.”
Once again Taylor realized just how high the st
akes were in this game.
“I don’t think we should be putting any of the hands in that kind of danger.”
L.Q., sitting next to her with his shotgun held loosely in his hands, grinned at her. “Don’t you worry. Clay Morgan was an Army Ranger. No one gets one over him.”
“And he’s ranching?” Taylor lifted her eyebrows.
“What can I say? The man loves cattle.”
“Clay worked on the ranch before he went to Afghanistan,” L.Q. explained. “Josiah kept a spot for him. He’s one of Tony’s lead wranglers.”
“Thank you. That makes me feel better.”
“We’re landing.”
Noah’s voice in her headphones broke into her scattered thoughts.
In a matter of seconds Greg had set down the helicopter on a helipad next to the Arroyo building.
Noah leaned over to speak to him, then jumped down and helped Taylor out.
They might have been any two people on their way to a business meeting, if not for the fact that Noah reached inside his jacket and adjusted the gun in his shoulder holster. Glancing over her shoulder, Taylor saw Tomas do the same. Once again her stomach clenched and she looked around to see where danger might be hiding.
In minutes, they were in the building and riding the elevator up to her suite of offices, one man on either side of her. Carmen rose from her desk, greeted them with a smile. She picked up a stack of messages and followed them into Taylor’s office.
“Everyone in the world apparently wants to talk to you, Miss Scott,” she grinned. “A lot of them are call-backs from yesterday. You’re the newest celebrity around here.”
Taylor grimaced. “I could do with a little less of that, you know.” She flipped through the thick stack of messages in her hand and looked at Noah, standing next to her desk like a block of granite. “I have no idea who any of these people are. Can I just have Carmen keep putting them off?”
