by Tiffani Lynn
“You okay?” Elias asks, the deep timbre of his voice bringing me back to the here and now.
“Yeah, just thinking.” I turn around in place, absorbing the breathtaking scenery.
I can tell he’s looking at me when he asks, “What are you thinking about?”
Be bold, be brave, I tell myself. Live a little. This may be your last chance. Sucking in a deep breath, I turn toward him, allowing my gaze to travel up his body before I meet his eyes. “Things I’ve got no business thinking about.” How I said that without blinking or looking away I don’t know. Tiny butterflies take flight in my chest as his eyes darken, their focus shifting to my lips. I lick the lower one nervously and hold my breath.
Taking one step closer to me, he asks, “What kind of things?”
It’s been awhile since anyone has flirted with me. My scars and sad face scare men away, and before that Alex did, so I’m not 100 percent sure he’s flirting, but I’d like to think that’s what’s going on.
I close my eyes for a second before finally releasing the breath I was holding, opening them again as I exhale. “You.”
His eyes widen just enough for me to notice. “Me? Why?”
“Because I really want to do this.” I rise on my tiptoes and press my lips to his. Damn, his lips are incredibly soft. I didn’t expect them to feel so good. When he doesn’t react, embarrassment floods my system and I pull away quickly, taking a step back and slapping my hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry,” I mumble, realizing that I misread the situation. He didn’t want that at all and now I need to get out of here. I turn and spot the ATV, remembering that I have to ride all the way back with my body pressed to his. I’d rather crawl in a hole out here and die from a bear attack. Clearly, I didn’t think this through.
“Hey! Wait.” He grabs me and turns me to face him. He searches my face and his brows pull low over his spectacular eyes. “Why did you do that?” he asks.
God, this couldn’t get more mortifying if we added an audience. I shrug a little and try to yank myself free of his grip.
“Seriously, why did you kiss me? I need a reason, Reya.”
His insistence in discussing this, in embarrassing me further, is making me angry. I didn’t peg him as the cruel type.
“Why does it matter? I said I was sorry,” I snap at him.
“Because it does. I don’t want you thinking you owe me anything, because you don’t. I’m not that kind of man.”
What? “You think I kissed you because I thought I owed you something?”
He nods. “I know you’re still not over your husband. You’ve been through a lot and it’s been intense…”
Is he crazy? I’d never use my physical affection to pay someone back. I can’t decide if I should be mad or offended. “I kissed you because I wanted to. Even with all the shit I have going on, all I could think about was what you’d taste like. Okay? Does that make you happy? Are you pleased you made me look like an idiot?” I yell.
Before I have a chance to move further away from him, he yanks me forward as his mouth crashes to mine, and I melt as soon as his tongue slips between my parted lips. He pulls back just a little and whispers, “Been thinking about more than just what you taste like. Kiss me back, doll.” That little bit of knowledge sends my brain spiraling to the land of lust and sweaty, wild, mind-blowing sex. When his lips meet mine this time, I open and devour him, making sure to memorize every stroke of his tongue, every change of direction, every nip of my lips with his teeth. It’s by far the hottest kiss I’ve ever had and I’ve had some hot ones.
Within a few seconds, his hand slides down over my ass and squeezes, and I don’t expect the groan that comes from him. He breaks the kiss as he squeezes again. “Best fucking ass I’ve ever seen,” he mumbles before he resumes kissing me, this time with one hand on my ass, the other shoved up under the hair of my nape. Parts of me that have long since been dormant light up like the Fourth of July.
My hands grip the hem of his shirt, ready to remove it when a shot rings out, hitting a spot two feet from us. He breaks the kiss and pushes me down to the hard surface, covering my body with his. Another shot rings out to the other side of us and he angles off of me a little. Then he starts shouting, “Go, go, go!” and pushes me toward the ATV. I scramble down the boulder toward the waiting four-wheeler. Two more shots zip by. I see him stumble and clutch at his thigh, and I scream. He manages to get on the ATV and as soon as I wrap my arms around his middle he hits the throttle.
We’re zipping through Bill’s property as fast as this thing will carry us. The roar of the motor isn’t enough to drown out the sound of shots hitting trees and rocks all around us. Elias weaves us up into a narrow passage that climbs higher and suddenly drops about four feet. Somehow we land on all four tires and take off again. We’re not returning the way we came, we’re going through a huge thicket of trees and I’m terrified we’ll smash into one, so I close my eyes and drop my head. We hit a bump, jolt sideways and my eyes fly open. It’s at that point I notice the huge blood stain on his pants from his lower thigh downward that seems to be building by the second. We’ve got to get somewhere so I can stop the bleeding.
As we clear the tree line, the back side of the barn comes into view and I realize we lost them, but Elias doesn’t let off the throttle. When we barrel around the corner he finally slows and enters the barn. Bill comes in right behind us on foot.
“What the hell happened? I got a radio call from Johnson that he heard shots fired on the east side of the property.”
Elias taps my thigh and I stand on shaking legs, but he doesn’t move. The only words I can seem to utter are, “He’s been shot.”
Bill’s eyes grow round and he does a quick scan from head to toe, pausing on Elias’s leg.
“Damn. Let me help you off that thing and I’ll see if I can get Doc out here. Until then, I’m calling the boys in to stand guard. You need to call Hank and his boys and tell them what’s going on.”
“We’re going to need more help than I previously thought,” Elias confesses.
Bill turns and jogs out of the barn as I help Elias to a bench against the barn wall. There’s an awful lot of blood, but being a nurse, that part doesn’t bother me. I hate that it’s his blood, but it’s not new to me and doesn’t make me squeamish.
“Got a pocket knife?” I ask him. His eyebrow rises.
“For your jeans,” I say as I get on my knees in front of him. I shake my hands out, willing them to stop trembling.
“I’m not sure I want you near my leg with a knife and shaky hands. Besides, I think it’s just a graze. It burns a little, but that’s it. If it was worse, I’d know.”
“Not necessarily. Adrenaline has a way of masking the worst pain.”
“Fine, just don’t cut my leg off.” He pulls the knife from his pocket and places it in my palm.
As carefully as I can, I slit up the outside of the jeans and peel the blood-soaked material back. Thank goodness he’s right. It’s just a graze on the lower part of his thigh. He may need a couple stiches or butterfly bandages, but it didn’t bury itself in the muscle like I was afraid of.
I look around the room until I finally spot what I’m looking for: a first aid kit. I jump up and run over to the dusty old box. It must be 50 years old. I open it as I return to where he’s sitting, pulling out the sterile wipes. Thank goodness they’re still damp and I’m able to spend a few minutes cleaning the area around the wound.
While I’m working on his leg he calls his friend Hank to explain what’s happening. I gather from Elias’s side of the conversation that Hank’s rounding up some men to stand as our security guards. I can’t believe the lengths these people are going to, to help me when they don’t even know me.
By the time Hank arrives, my shaking has subsided and I’m calm again. When did I become a woman with the strength to get up and keep going in the midst of danger? Hell, when did I become the woman in danger? I’ve always been a good girl, so to speak. Never findin
g trouble and steering clear of those who did. It’s clear I can’t claim that anymore.
Elias stands to walk out of the barn and cringes. When I slide up under his arm to help brace him while he walks, he practically growls at me and shifts away. My feelings would likely be hurt if it weren’t for the fact that Elias is obviously a man’s man and wouldn’t in a million years let anyone see a weakness.
Two armed men, one with a pistol and one with a shotgun, escort us to and up the stairs to his apartment. Once we’re inside, one of the men stays outside and the other joins us inside, standing by the door. Hank’s seated at Elias’s table, typing on a laptop, and looks up at us.
“Hey, man. You okay?”
“Just a graze. Looks worse than it is.”
Hank glances at me.
“I’m a nurse. I looked at it and he’s right. Probably needs a couple of stitches, but otherwise it should be okay.”
Hank looks thoughtful as he nods.
“I’m going to the restroom,” I tell the men, getting the feeling they’d like to talk without me in the room.
“Okay,” they both say and I exit.
I brace my hands on the sink, stare into the mirror and review the last hour. Between the kiss, the extreme sexual tension and someone trying to kill me, I’m overwhelmed. Emotionally wiped out. I must finally be out of tears though because I don’t cry; I just allow the heavy weight of all these things to settle on my shoulders as I wash my hands.
When I come out of the bathroom Hank is gone and an older gentleman with a white handlebar mustache and white hair cropped short against his head, who I’m assuming is Doc since he’s looking at Elias’s leg, glances up at me.
“You clean this up and put the butterfly bandages on him, young lady?”
I move closer and look at the leg. “Yes, sir. When I’m not running from men with guns, I’m an RN.”
“Hm. Well, you did such a good job there’s nothing left for me to do.”
Is he angry I did his job? I was just trying to get Elias through until the doctor could get here.
“Wipe that look off your face, I’m not mad ‘bout it. Just surprised. Not many nurses running around these parts. I’m leaving you some fresh bandages and some ointment, you obviously know what to do. Call me if you think I need to take another look,” he tells me as he stands and gathers his stuff. He grabs his hat off the hook next to Elias’s hat, gives us both a chin lift and walks out the door.
I pick up the supplies and move them to the bathroom, and when I return Elias is stretched out on his bed, with his eyes glued to the television angled in his direction. While I was in the bathroom before Doc arrived, he must have changed out of the nasty jeans. Now he’s lying in a pair of shorts and a clean T-shirt. One hand is tucked behind his head while the other rests on his stomach. It looks like it’s a lazy football Sunday afternoon for him. Not like we just survived being shot at and chased across the property. Unsure of what I should do, I walk over and sit on the love seat and fiddle with the hem of my shirt. This is kind of awkward.
“Come here,” he says to me.
I lift my head, surprised by his words and look around like maybe someone else is in here.
“Yes, you. Ain’t no one else in here, doll.”
I walk over and sit on the bed, angled to face him, next to his hip. “How do you feel?” I ask.
“I’m okay. The question is, how do you feel?”
“I’m fine. Thank you for saving me.” One side of his mouths tips up. He doesn’t respond to my comment. Instead he taps the bed beside him, on the side opposite his wounded leg. “Want to lie with me for a bit? We’ve got guards outside the door.”
Warmth rushes through me at the thought of lying in bed with him, possibly snuggled up. There’s no way I’m passing up this opportunity. “Yes, okay.” I walk to the other side of the bed and crawl up next to him. His arm is stretched out, indicating he wants me to lie against him. As soon as I settle and his arm wraps around me, I breathe a sigh of relief. That small thing of being wrapped up in a man’s arms, especially one who’s as strong as and looks like Elias…is amazing. It doesn’t take long for me to doze off.
It’s dark out when I awaken to the thrashing body below me. “Elias?” I ask hesitantly, unsure of what’s going on. He doesn’t respond, but continues to flail and twist like he’s trying to get away from something. A pained sound escapes him, the kind I’ve only heard an injured animal make. I panic, hating to see him struggle. “Elias!” I say, just short of a yell, while I shake his shoulder. His body settles a little so I try it again.
He shoots up into a sitting position as his eyes fly open, wild, afraid and shocked. His head swivels as he takes in the setting. I know how he’s feeling. I’ve done this very thing hundreds of times over the last year. It’s a horrible feeling trying to separate a dream from reality, especially if the dream is part memory.
When his eyes lock on mine and he registers me, he moves fast and the next thing I know, I’m on my back. Before I can say a word, his hips are between my legs and his mouth is on mine. At first I’m too surprised to react, but as soon as his tongue breaches my lips, I open for him. He flexes his hips into me and I can feel his erection grow between us in the few seconds it takes me to engage. I bend my knees, press them against the outside of his rib cage and shove my hands up under his shirt. While my fingers explore his bare skin, I become impatient and tug his shirt off. His hips continue to grind into me while his mouth consumes me. My pulse kicks up higher. I’m panting as he breaks the kiss and drifts down my neck, planting kisses almost every inch of the way, and I almost melt when he takes special care along my neck scar. The heat of his breath along my skin singes in the sexiest way. I want him, I need him and if he comes to his senses and stops this, I’m probably going to have a serious breakdown. He shifts down my body, stopping to suck on my nipples through my T-shirt and bra. “Eliassss,” I hiss.
The further down he goes, the more I squirm. He jerks my shirt up roughly and I wiggle and maneuver until I get it all the way off. I can see his hungry expression in the dim light of the television still flickering in the background, and I’ve never felt sexier or more wanted. With a swipe of his fingers he frees my breasts from the cups of the bra and spends a few minutes teasing me with his teeth and tongue on each one.
“More,” I groan as I grip his hair with my fingers and hold him to me. The pulsing between my legs has hit epic proportions just from his work at my chest. Even the slightest touch to my clit is likely to send me off like a rocket.
His lips trace a trail to my breastbone and slowly down my belly. I squirm and beg for more as he tugs my panties off. With his face so close to my sex, impatience takes over and I lift my hips, offering myself to him readily. “Please put your mouth on me,” I beg as I stare down my body at the sexy cowboy between my legs. There is a wicked grin plastered on his face as he dips a little closer. The warmth of his breath against my most tender area, before he’s even touched me, is more than I can take and I buck slightly. God, I need it now! He clamps down on my thighs with his rough, strong hands, keeping them open, to hover above my pussy, teasing and taunting me. How can I be this close to orgasm and he hasn’t even actually touched me between my legs? I’m going to explode.
“Tell me you want this, that you want me, doll.”
“Yes, yes, yes, I want you,” I pant.
“Say my name. I need to know it’s me you want.”
Is he kidding? Who else would I want? The man working me into a frenzy, teasing me, is the only man in the world I want. I lift up on my elbows, making sure he can see my face clearly. The sight of him between my thighs is wildly erotic. I lose focus for a second until he kisses the lips of my sex like he would my mouth as he returns my stare.
“Elias. You’re the one I want. The only one I can think of. Please, this is torture.” The whiny quality to my voice is embarrassing, but damn, I’m so ready to go I’ll get on my knees and beg if he wants me to.
; His grin has me sucking in a breath. “You’re beautiful,” he tells me, before he buries his face in my pussy and laps at my damp center. One swipe of his tongue across the tight bundle of nerves has me cussing. This is vicious torture and beautiful bliss all at once. With special concentration on my clit, he flicks his tongue rapidly. I’m pinned to the mattress, squirming and screaming his name. The guys we have posted outside will probably be breaking the door down any minute to save me.
“More,” I holler, and he gives it to me with that wicked quick tongue. When I don’t think I can take another second, he sucks my pleasure bud into his mouth and I come, screaming his name while thrashing wildly against him. I’ve probably bruised his mouth.
Instead of sliding up between my legs and having sex with me, he rolls to his back and flops his hands above his head. That’s not what I expected and I’m a little concerned that I hurt him or did something wrong. Oh, my gosh. What if he’s sorry he did this with me? What if he hated my reaction? Maybe it was too much. How embarrassing. What if that was a pity thing or he was half asleep and… I can’t even finish the thought. The humiliation will likely kill me in the daylight.
His breathing is heavy and I chance a glance down his body. His cock is hard, pushing against his shorts. If he’s still hard why wouldn’t he continue? I can’t take the wondering so I ask, “Are you sorry you did that?” My voice is soft, but it seems loud in the quiet room. I’m glad he can’t see my face clearly when he shifts to his side to look at me.
“No, never. I’m sorry I practically attacked you.”
“You wanted it?” I ask to confirm.
“Since the moment I saw you at the bar.”
Relief floods my system and I sit all the way up and attempt to tuck myself back into my bra.
“Take off the bra, Reya,” he tells me, his voice hoarse. Since it’s the last piece of clothing I’m wearing, I take it off and toss it to the floor. Then I crawl over to him, my hair hanging forward, almost in my way. I sit back on my heels, pull my hair to one side of my neck and allow my eyes to roam from his sexy disheveled hair to his bare feet. “Take off your shorts, Elias.”
