by Davis, Jo
She tugged at the offending material, needing him closer. No barriers between them. Chuckling, he helped her get the shirt over his head, and she tossed it aside. Immediately, she skimmed her palms over his solid pecs, fascinated by the light dusting of springy dark hair. The tight brown male nipples peaking under the brush of her thumbs, gooseflesh rising on his skin.
Yeah, she liked knowing she could reduce him to a quivering mass.
And she had a feeling his wicked side, once unleashed, would be a thing of beauty to behold.
“Jesus.” He groaned, his sensual lips curving upward. “Your turn. They’re just boobs, remember?”
His teasing tone, colored with a hint of challenge, suggested he didn’t really expect her to return the favor. Kinda cute, too, the flush on his face, like the look of a little boy who’d just said something very naughty but refused to take it back.
Exactly how innocent was Zack?
“You want my shirt off? Hmm?”
“I—you don’t have to—”
“Remove it yourself, hot stuff.”
If only she had a camera. His expression was priceless. Not quite believing, desperate to know she wasn’t kidding. In answer to his unspoken question, she let her arms go lax at her sides, and nodded.
Zack rolled to the side, his body half atop hers, and swallowed hard. She couldn’t fathom why a hottie like him would be so nervous, but thought it was sweet the way his hand trembled as it brushed her belly. Lifted the material and began the upward slide.
And then she was bared to him, nipples puckering as she arched her back, allowing him to work off the shirt. He pitched it next to his, but his hot gaze never left her breasts. Propping himself on one elbow, he let his fingers drift across her collarbone. Lower, to the swell of her breasts, hesitating.
The only way to describe the emotion in his blue eyes was . . . awestruck. As though he’d been gifted with a treasure he wasn’t certain he deserved.
But he desired the treasure badly—the proof throbbed against her hip.
“Go ahead, Zack. Touch me,” she whispered.
Apparently afraid she’d break, he carefully brushed one pert nipple. Even that tentative caress shot a jolt of liquid heat to her sex.
“Harder. Pinch them.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” Had he never done this before? Zack was young, several years her junior, but surely—
Thinking became impossible as he rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Plucked with just the right amount of pressure, skirting the edge of wicked pain she’d missed. Shooting tiny pinpoints of delight throughout her body. He pulled and pinched, first one, then the other.
“Oh! Zack . . .” Reaching to him, she pulled his head down, burying her fingers in the silky hair at his nape.
No hesitation now. He suckled one peak like a man who’d just found religion. Reverently, and with great purpose. His warm mouth drew on her flesh, tongue laving. Swirling.
“More,” she gasped.
He raised his head, black hair falling into hungry eyes. “Tell me, baby. What do you need?”
The words threaded around her heart. She hadn’t been with many men, but none of the few she’d slept with had bothered to ask that simple, wonderful question. Smiling, she grasped the waistband of her jogging pants.
“Help me off with these.”
She lifted her hips and in short order, her pants and underwear joined their growing pile. Zack knelt beside her and sucked in an appreciative breath, smoothing a hand over her tummy.
“My God, you’re beautiful.”
She shook her head. “Thank you, but—”
“Shh. Tell me how to please you, what you like.” His hand slid lower, toward the golden brown triangle at the apex of her thighs.
She spread her legs, and the sensuality of being completely exposed to him slid into her blood like a drug. This man wanted her as no one ever had, for the joy of giving to them both.
“I’ll do better,” she said. “I’ll show you.”
Slowly, enjoying him watching with feral intensity, she slid her hand down. Across her stomach. Downward, her fingers sliding through the curls. Transfixed, he didn’t seem to breathe as she began to massage her aching clit in lazy circles. Round and round, then dipping one finger into her channel. Sliding in and out, spreading the moisture all over her sex.
“Let me,” he rasped.
At her nod, he moved to kneel between her thighs. Grabbing a small pillow, he pushed it under her hips, opening her. Making her more vulnerable, though she knew he’d never hurt her.
Resting one hand on her upper thigh, he ghosted a touch the length of her slit. “So pretty.”
With the pad of one finger, he rubbed her clit as he’d seen her do. Gently circling, with increasing confidence, probably because of the helpless little moans escaping her lips. Zack’s touch. Like no other man’s, unfurling a deep desire to lose herself. To let go.
“Like that, sweetheart?”
“Yes!”
Growing bolder, he slid two fingers between her slick folds. Grazing the sensitized nub, pushing deeper. Sinking into her channel. Working them in, slow and easy, and out again. In and out. Fucking her with his hand until she was dripping wet, writhing, nearly out of her mind.
“Zack, please!”
“Finish you, like this? Tell me, honey.”
“No, with your mouth! Please, I need . . .”
His hand withdrew and she wondered, for a brief moment, if he’d be like the others. Ignore her pleas and whip out his cock, pound away without particular finesse, much less finishing the decadent feast he’d begun.
She needn’t have worried. Zack stretched out full-length on his stomach . . . and fastened his mouth to her sex. His hot, lovely mouth and wet, seeking tongue an instrument of heavenly torture. He licked the bare lips, then tunneled between them, tongue-fucking her into mindless oblivion.
But when he latched on to her clit, dining like a man born to eat a woman, she was a goner. Fisting her hands in his hair, she bucked. Lost to the tidal wave of glorious, shattering orgasms.
“Oh, God! Zack, yes! Don’t stop!”
One after another, the tremors shook her, until at last she lay spent. Limp as a noodle and breathing hard.
And more satisfied than she’d ever been.
Zack peered up at her, wiped his mouth, and gave her a shy, uncertain smile. “Did you . . . ? Did I . . . ?” Amazingly, he flushed crimson. “Was it okay for you?”
Grinning, she reached out and fingered a strand of his hair. “It was awesome and you were fabulous. Why would you doubt it?”
“I’m sort of . . . new at, you know . . .”
Sitting up, she stared at him, processing what he’d said. Holy crap! “You mean, you’ve never gone down on a woman before?”
He groaned, slapping a hand over his eyes. “More than that. I’ve never had sex with a woman, period.”
“Oh? So you’ve had sex with a man?”
Snorting a laugh, she ducked the pillow he lobbed at her head.
“Brat,” he grumbled. “Go ahead, have fun at my expense.”
“Never.” Scooting close, she cupped his cheek. “I’d never laugh at you, not to intentionally hurt your feelings.”
He nuzzled and kissed her palm. “I know.”
The wonderful thread squeezed harder around her heart, nearly strangling it. Good God, how on earth had she snared one of the last sexy male virgins over the age of twenty-one?
“What held you back?” she wondered aloud.
He shrugged. “Plenty of opportunity, little motivation. Call me an idealist, but I wanted being with my lady to mean something. To be special.” He gave her an impish smile. “I was right to wait.”
“I wish I had, too,” she said, suddenly ashamed. “If I had, maybe—”
“Don’t. I wouldn’t change a single detail about you, baby.”
Gazing into his dear face, she still had trouble be
lieving her incredible luck. That all this wouldn’t vanish in an instant. She’d found a kind, heroic, affectionate man who’d never made love with anyone else. Had never known a woman’s touch.
The female instinct to put her mark on him now rose, drowning out all else. Grinning, she tugged at his sweats. “Lose these and lie on your back.”
“Cori, you don’t have to—”
“Do it, buddy.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Rolling onto his back, he shucked the pants and boxers, letting her take charge in sliding them off his legs. Without a word, he spread his thighs, inviting her in. Waited, anticipation glittering in the depths of his vivid blue eyes.
Cori knelt between his thighs as he’d done to her, but with a decidedly wicked plan to up the ante. Not only would she demonstrate what he’d been missing, but if all went well, she’d blow a charred hole through his brain cells.
“Raise your hips.” He did, and she tucked a pillow underneath, thinking she might need new ones if he stayed around very long. “There, total access. You’re mine, and I’ll do anything to you I desire. Anything. Understand?”
His brows shot up. “I—”
“Yes or no.”
“Y-yes. Christ, Cori—”
“Good. No more talking.”
Her gaze swept to his fully aroused, impressive cock. Oh, this was a much better view than the foggy glass shower. His penis was indeed long and thick. A wide helmet for the tip, a weeping slit, the satiny length roped with veins. And at the base . . . lucky, lucky Cori, the man was hung like a bull. Velvety balls nestled beneath, inviting play.
And so she would, until he shouted loud enough to rattle the rafters.
Zack lay sprawled before Cori, unable to believe his day, which started out so horribly, would end with him being leveled by a storm of tastes and sensations he’d only dreamed of.
Her unique flavor lingered on his tongue, and his fingers tingled as he recalled how much he’d loved pleasur ing her. He’d wanted only to make her happy, and now it seemed she wanted the same.
I’ll do anything to you I desire.
God help him, he hoped so!
Above him, Cori swirled the drops of pre-cum all over the tip of his cock. Honey brown hair framed her face, tumbled past her shoulders to frame full breasts, tipped with dusky rose nipples he couldn’t wait to suckle again. But this was her show, and he’d never seen a more desirable woman than his goddess taking what she wanted from him.
Wrapping her fingers around the base of his cock, she lowered her head and took him in her mouth. His breath caught, rendering Cori’s order of silence unnecessary. He couldn’t have spoken an intelligible word. Groaning, he watched his length disappear between her plump lips. Deeper, wet heat, sucking with delicious pressure. More skillful fingers, manipulating his balls.
“Shit, yeah.” He was lost. Never again would his own hand be able to satisfy him. Never anything like this. So damned good. He wasn’t a small man, yet she engulfed him to the root. Owning every inch of his fiery cock. Working him into a near frenzy. He couldn’t take much more.
Or so he thought.
He was hardly aware of her pausing for a split second to wet one finger. She resumed her attentions, swallowing him whole again. Her free hand crept past his balls, the damp finger tracing along the seam, upward. Parting his ass cheeks to find . . .
“Cori,” he croaked on a strangled breath of air.
A low, husky, feminine chuckle drifted to his burning ears. But she didn’t stop. The wicked suction on his cock increased, along with the tempo. Her finger massaged his entrance, igniting a blaze of savage lust threatening to incinerate him. He’d heard Julian brag about allowing his women to do this, and of returning the favor. He’d never imagined being the recipient.
And digging the hell out of it.
She pushed inside, and began to slide the digit. Back and forth. Faster and faster, angling the strokes, seeking the fabled magic button all men supposedly possessed, just as highly sexually charged as a woman’s clit.
She found the damned spot, too.
“Ahh, God!” Red lights exploded in front of his eyes. His entire body danced as though electrocuted, at her mercy. “Baby, yes! Fuck . . .”
Cum boiled in his balls, shot from the base of his spine. Pumped on and on, his entire body spasming. Cori drank every drop he had to give, laving his cock with loving ministrations through the residual shocks until he lay spent.
Releasing him, she crawled from between his legs and snuggled into his side. Swamped with confusing emotions, he held her close as she rested her head on his chest, no doubt listening to the gallop of his thundering heart. He was surprised the damned organ hadn’t stopped altogether, considering how she’d just rocked his world.
“God, baby, I loved that,” he managed, kissing the top of her head. He felt her smile against his chest.
“I sorta guessed.”
“Can we do it again?”
“Anytime, fireboy.”
“You know, the day we met, I hated when you called me that.”
“And now?”
“God, it turns me on.”
“Then I’ll be sure to use it more often. Fireboy.”
He laughed. “I hear there’s something to be said for recovery time.”
Happier than he’d ever been, he stroked her smooth shoulder, pondering where they’d go from here. “What will your rich, fancy brothers think about their baby sister taking up with a broke firefighter?”
He wouldn’t allow the mess he was in to spoil this newfound heaven. Somehow, he’d find a way out.
Cori gave him a squeeze. “I moved here to get away from their influence, remember? Anyway, it’s really only Joaquin who cares. He’s the major pain in the ass.”
Joaquin.
Oh, God. No.
He tried to keep his voice casual. Hoping against the odds. “That’s kind of an unusual name—Joaquin Shannon.”
“No. I never told you, did I? When I moved here, I took my mother’s maiden name for a fresh start.”
Zack knew what Cori was going to say, and his world crumbled. Hadn’t he known deep inside the moment he’d seen Cori ensconced in the home a ruthless bastard had stolen from him?
“My oldest brother is the hotel and casino mogul Joaquin Delacruz.”
10
Zack stared into the glowing embers, his arms full of soft, sleeping woman, and wondered how many times a man had to gain the top of the mountain and fall ass over elbows before he quit reaching for the impossible.
Why continue to fight?
Under the throw blanket he’d draped over them, Cori snuggled into his side, cheek resting against his chest. Even breath fanning over his skin, she lay, not so innocent, and trusting him to keep her safe. His.
This was “why fight.” For this, for Cori, he’d take on Delacruz and his posse of assholes, her unknown enemy, and a team of Black Ops soldiers armed with hand grenades. Yeah, he had it bad, but the fuzzy afterglow of sex wasn’t the whole reason. Though the sex had been pretty damned amazing.
Not just sex, making love. He didn’t require a world of experience to know lovemaking was more than sharing bodies. Their connection was real and when he finally pushed deep inside her, he’d be home at last, where he belonged.
He needed time. To figure out how to deal with Delacruz and protect Cori. Not only from her stalker, but from the knowledge that her brother had all but destroyed Zack’s life . . . and Cori had directly benefited from his own downfall.
If Cori found out, it might drive a wedge between them. She’d feel awful, maybe even guilty, about a situation that wasn’t her fault. He couldn’t lose her.
Delacruz had no idea where Zack had disappeared to, and this was certainly the last place he’d look. For now, Zack must keep it that way. His gut churned to imagine what a powerful bastard like Delacruz would do to the man he’d already threatened, who owed him the better part of three quarters of a million dollars, when he found o
ut Zack was sleeping with his sister.
And falling for her. Hard.
Whatever happened, nothing would get solved tonight. Glancing at the fire, he was satisfied it had burned down enough not to pose a hazard. He shifted around, gathering Cori and the blanket into his arms, and pushed to his feet. She stirred against him, raising sleepy eyes to his.
“Put me down. You’re going to hurt your back.”
“Shh, go back to sleep.”
“Too heavy.”
“Baby, I may be the FAO, but I’m trained to haul a body down ten flights of stairs in a four-alarm blaze if I have to,” he informed her, heading for the landing. “I absolutely can carry you to bed.”
“Mmm.” Settling, she wound her arms around his neck.
Pleased to get no further argument, he bore her upstairs to the room across from his and laid her gently on the bed. After some tugging, he covered and tucked her in, smiling ruefully as she curled onto her side and went right back to dreamland.
Admit it, Knight. You wanted to be invited to stay.
But she hadn’t asked him, and he’d never intrude on her privacy, despite the encouraging development between them. Some days being a nice guy sucked.
Downstairs, he retrieved his clothes, pulling on the lipstick-kiss boxers with a snort. Maybe he’d bronze them for posterity. For sure, he’d never look at them the same way again.
After dressing in his sweats and T-shirt, he padded into the kitchen to use the phone, flipping on the dim light over the sink. He doubted Cori would mind; plus he needed to let an officer on the team know how to reach him in case of an emergency. Since the truce with Tanner was a little thin yet, he opted to call Six-Pack, hoping he wasn’t interrupting the action between the lieutenant and his curvy blond bride. A glance at the clock revealed the hour wasn’t quite ten o’clock, though it seemed later.
Deciding to risk the big man’s annoyance, Zack parked his rear against the counter, picked up the handset, and punched in the couple’s number. While waiting, he stared out the bare window above the sink, into the night at the brilliant stars. Another view he’d never thought to enjoy again. After the fourth ring, the lieutenant grumbled a less-than-thrilled greeting. The breathy giggling in the background hinted at why.
