Their passion roared in her ears.
The tent was too small!
She wanted him. Growling with need, she tugged at his jacket, but he caught her wrist. “Don’t touch.”
Oh yeah. That. “But you’re touching me,” she whined breathlessly, her emotions all over the board. How could she not touch this glorious male? This tender beast who needed petting in all the best ways? Who even now pressed his extraordinary hardness against her aching softness?
“Pull your hair out of my way,” he muttered hoarsely.
Eagerly, she complied, tugging her tangles aside to let him have any part of her he wanted. “Like this?”
Ky answered by dipping his face into her exposed neck. Breathing hard, his mouth worked a molten path of lava from her earlobe to her collarbone, and ahh...
She shivered, her body aflame while he licked and slathered more accelerant on her than she could bear. He nibbled tiny love bites that burned sparks wherever his mouth met her flesh. Any part he touched, he claimed until she was a hot writhing mess beneath him, desperate to return the sensual stimulation. To lay him flat to his back and climb on board those manly hips grinding against hers. To rip his clothes off and impale her body, heart, and soul to his mast.
He started again, the moist heat of his open mouth skimming up her neck, and she was lost in a flash fire called Ky. A man whose heart and soul had been seared to hers during the worst of times, and now the best of times.
He swept the last of her senses away with his very skilled mouth, devouring every patch of skin he came in contact with. Resistance never entered her mind. Not this time. She groaned for release, needing the manly heat of his body on the rest of her, wanting out of her clothes and every last inch of him inside of her. But this man had extraordinary control. Ky hadn’t loosened his grip, just wound her one hand behind his head and hooked it to the back of his neck.
She smiled against his cheek at this very positive development. He’d placed her bare fingers on his bare skin. He wanted her to touch him, and she wanted to. But with her heart pounding loud and clear, and her bare cheek against his bare cheek, she didn’t dare clutch. She didn’t squeeze. Eden didn’t let her fingers wander up into his scalp or brush through his hair. As difficult as it was to refrain, she simply let this moment be exactly what it was. A very tiny first step.
“Ky,” she whimpered, her lips almost on his ear, so close she had to fight to keep from licking him. Tasting him. Inhaling deeply, she took what she could, his manly, spicy scent. Her cheek melded with the warmth of his. Her tongue ached to trace the curl of that manly ear. To make him shiver as he’d made her shiver.
He grunted, one hand holding her head still as his mouth found hers again. “Yes?” he answered hotly, just before he made extraordinarily warm, wet love to her tongue and her lips and her teeth and... Ahh. Just ahh..
Eden gave herself up to the storm of sexual pleasure pounding at her. She forgot what she wanted to say. Something about... reminding him about...
Oh, snap. Whatever.
Her bones turned fluid. Every last FBI resolve faded. She would’ve given all if he’d pressed her for it, but he didn’t. After another round of soul-shattering kisses that curled her toes and left her breathless, he licked her lips and gave her just enough distance to try and catch her breath. She couldn’t. Didn’t even try. Just kept gulping in the air he exhaled. Kept savoring the distinctly male taste of his lips and tongue. Kept her opened palm exactly where he’d left it.
At last, he bowed his head, his heated breath pouring into the hollow of her neck. She stilled, ready to slip out of her clothes at the slightest hint.
Just say the word. One word. Any word. A grunt will do.
He had only to tug at her bra strap and she could’ve burned the frozen north down. Or whisper. Heck, all he had to do was keep breathing hard. Oh, so hard. This man wanted her as badly as she wanted him. A wiggle hinted at her eagerness to go one step farther.
She, the ultimate loner in the universe, wanted this tender warrior in every imaginable way. Only a lifetime of rejections and betrayals kept her from opening her big mouth and telling him she loved him.
Ky lifted his head, his eyes filled with the same fire that had consumed her. Or was it stars? Unadulterated lust? Eden couldn’t decide. A lazy smile twitched at his still wet lips, the lips she’d just licked and tasted and wanted more of.
“Damn it, Eden Stark,” he grumbled. “You’re not very good at not kissing back.”
Oh, yeah. About that. She could only scrunch her shoulders. It did take two to not kiss. Surely he knew that. “But I’m only touching you where you let me.”
The poor guy closed his eyes, a pleasant euphoria brightening his countenance. “It’s strange, but physical contact... burns. Try and figure that one out. Those bastards never lit me up, but my head’s hyper-vigilant. It still thinks they will. Any second now.”
Not exactly what she wanted to hear. Eden pulled back, but Ky flattened his hand to hold her in place. “No. Don’t move. Your touch doesn’t feel the same. It’s just a crazy time-warp thing my brain does. It’s a rut. A pattern I’m kind of stuck in. I don’t know how to get over it yet. But I will.”
His conviction pleased and bothered her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
The saddest smile stretched his lips. He cupped her bare hand, touching her, but not allowing her to touch him. And yet they were. The very act of not touching was—touching.
“You’re not them. I really do know that, and I know your lips were touching mine when we kissed. It’s kind of unavoidable when two people go crazy on each other, but I’m sorry. I want to, but I can’t handle you touching me as much as I’d like. Not yet.”
She smiled despite the rebuff, content to let him hold her however he could. There was still a lot of little boy inside this manly body, and that little boy wanted to be free to play with her. What was it Confucius said? That the journey of a thousand miles began with one small step? Well, today was the day for that one small step, and Ky Winchester had invited her to take it with him. In person this time.
His eyes narrowed, and she wanted nothing more than to trace the arch of his furrowed brows and erase every one of those bad memories that struggled to keep him in check.
“Lee gave me a knife,” he began hesitantly. “A rusty knife. When he left. Must have been the one he’d been stabbed with because I’m pretty sure he was bleeding when he found me. I was all beat to hell, and my nose was broke, but I could smell it on him.” Ky leaned back onto his elbow, pointing to his bicep. “I think he’d been stabbed here. The damned guy should’ve run for his life, but there he was, wasting time, saving me. Some guy named Jack showed up after Lee took off. It’s kind of funny now, but he knocked when he opened my cell, and he whispered ‘hello’ like I might have fallen to sleep in that rat hole. He kept telling me not to stab him, that he was there to take me home. You’d disappeared by then, and I’ve got to tell you. I honest to God thought I’d lost my mind, only...”
She held her breath and waited.
“They put me under, you know, to stitch me up and stuff, but I kept smelling that Vicks of yours. I thought you’d come back for me, and sometimes when I was laying there in the hospital during the night...” He pressed his lips tight as he forced a hard swallow. “Sometimes when I can’t sleep... I still smell it. You’re the one place I withdraw to when all that crap comes back.”
Oh wow. “Was that what you were doing at the crash site? You know, with that whole neck-rolling thing? You were remembering my Vicks?”
He frowned. “Yes. I had an ugly thought. When Lee gets a panic attack, he’s got this specific mental exercise he does of a little boy throwing fallen stars back up into the sky. It works for him, but me? I summon menthol and green eyes. That’s the only thing that gets me through.”
Aww. Her heart melted. “You summon… me?” She had to make sure she’d heard right. Eden couldn’t imagine hearing anything more perfect than that he’
d relied on her all these missing years.
“Yeah, after I stopped drinking myself to death, I turned to meditation, and I learned how to summon you instead of a fifth of Jack. You’re the quiet place I go to where I catch my balance, and... wait a minute. Did you put that ugly memory in my head last night?”
She ducked her head into her shoulders. “I did. I thought you were you,” she admitted, “but you were so calm. It was a test. I wanted to be sure.”
“You little shit,” he said with a devilish grin. “Damn. So there I was thinking of you while you were screwing with me?”
And wishing I was screwing you. She changed the subject. “But you are a good kisser.”
That produced the barest amber twinkle. “With you. I haven’t been with a woman since I got home, Eden.”
If ever two people were on the same wavelength, it was them. She saw it in his eyes. He wanted something more, but she also saw the hesitation. The fear. He wasn’t ready to take more than that first step, and a kiss was just a kiss.
God, how embarrassing. She blinked hard, woefully inexperienced and totally head-over-heels in love. She spilled her secret along with her tears. “I’m a... I’m a...”
“You’re a virgin,” he finished, a tender smile on his lips. “Oh, honey, I know. I can tell. I’m sorry I went so far, but I needed to be sure Zaroyin or Levine hadn’t taken advantage of you, and, well, once I got started...” He rolled his eyes. “I’m a horny bastard. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t,” she squeaked. “Don’t... spoil it.”
He had the good grace to pull her against his chest again, and for a moment, all was right with the world. But she’d been wrong before, and she didn’t want to appear as needy as she felt. She gave him the chance to retreat. “Let’s stay close, okay? Always?”
The Chemstick glow on his handsome face faded into dark green shadow. His gentle brows narrowed to a V. “Close?”
Frightened at how this pleasant but so unrealistic dream might end, she ordered him to, “Check my feet, Agent Winchester. Hurry. I’m cold, and I want to be sure Zaroyin didn’t stick anything else on me.”
“So now I’m Agent Winchester? Okay... if that’s how you want to play this,” he murmured as he untied one of her hiking boots and slid it off. He pinched the toe of her sock and tugged it off to reveal her bright-pink painted toenails. “Hmmm. I like pink. On girls.”
His words made her smile. She struggled for distance and composure while he ran his thumb down her instep and cupped her heel, visually checking her foot and ankles with those honey-warm eyes. With exquisite slowness, he lifted her toes to his mouth and blessed the rounded bottom of each with a warm, wet, whiskered kiss. “Just close?” he teased seductively, his voice deep and rumbling as he planted another kiss. “Like this?”
“Uh-huh.” Oh, God, yes.
She arched toward him, a marionette on an invisible string, tingling from one end to the other. Every hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Who would’ve thought that feet and ankles were connected to that other needy place, the one weeping for his attention? That with one word Ky could command every last feminine muscle and nerve in her tightly strung body? That her traitorous self would be ready to jump off that edge again? So soon? Snap, even her nipples hardened into wanton little beggars for his touch.
“Find anything else?” she asked hoarsely, smoldering, out of control.
“I found you, didn’t I?” he murmured, his tone husky and low, full of seductive promise. There it was again—that hint of permanence from his lips. The insinuation that this was no one-time operation for him. That he wanted her. Did she dare believe? Did she dare take the same risk she had demanded of him?
He smoothed one manly hand up her calf inside her pant leg. His brows spiked. “Sorry. Pants all the way off. I found something, and I need to see what it is.”
She gulped, but dragged her leg out of her multiple layers, all except her underwear. They had to stay on or she’d turn into one big, gooey puddle.
Ky twisted her ankle to his right, then lifted her leg straight up in the air while he examined the underside of her right calf. With her foot imprisoned in his big hand and her pink toenails pointed at the ceiling, he had an unlimited view of her ass and very nearly everything else. Hyperventilation ramped up. Her pulse spiked through the nylon tent ceiling. Here we go again...
Unabashedly, he looked her up and down. Mostly down. A sexy smile tweaked his lips when his gaze slithered to her backside. “You’re gorgeous. Every last inch of you.”
“What did you find?” she asked, her voice thin. There was no way to get control of this situation. Not anymore. He owned her, and he seemed to know it.
He zeroed in on the back of her calf and peeled something off her skin. “Did you apply this?” he asked, lifting a square bandage into view.
She squinted to get a better look at it through her overly dilated, steamy eyes. “No. What is it?”
He turned it over. “Looks like some kind of drug patch. Are you on the pill?”
“No,” she answered, her hackles up. “I don’t smoke, and why would I need the pill?” I’m a virgin, remember?
He winked. “Now, don’t get your panties in a bunch. Sometimes women take the pill to regulate their monthly cycle. It doesn’t mean you’re sleeping around.”
“My panties are not in a bunch, Agent Winchester, and for your information, I don’t sleep around.” He needed to understand that one thing about her. She could wait forever for the right man, and she had, darn it.
“Hey, calm down. I’m just asking because it looks like the one I’m wearing.”
“You’re on hormones?” Snap, she wanted to kick herself at that stupid question. Of course, he’s not on hormones, silly.
“No, but I’m trying to quit smoking, so I’m wearing a nicotine patch.” Ky lowered her leg, his eyes hooded and his hands curled around both ankles. “How close?” he asked pointedly as he settled his knees between her feet. “I mean, how close do you want us to stay when this op’s over? Pen pals? Distant friends? Roommates?”
Us? There’s an us? She could not think with this glorious man handling her nearly naked, shivering self.
His gaze drifted between her legs, but if this was just about sex, she wanted nothing to do with it. Besides, FBI agents didn’t dare hope for long-term relationships. The job was a divorce waiting to happen. Everyone knew that. She swallowed wrong at that lie and nearly choked. Who was she kidding? She wanted anything this guy offered. Casual sex. Committed sex. Sex in the tent. The whole nine yards.
“Umm, friends?” she squeaked, pathetically at his mercy. Rational conversation was impossible. Utterly impossible.
“For starters.” He lowered her leg and eased his body into a careful push-up over hers until she was trapped by his arms and legs. He was eye-to-eye and nose-to-nose with her. “I’m not Agent Winchester, damn it. I’m Ky and you’re Eden. We’re just us, understood? Two people who found each other, got it?”
She gulped her crazy heart back down where it belonged. The hysterical little thing kept bouncing up her throat like it wanted to do the talking for her. Like it wanted to blurt out that it loved him, that she loved him. Always would. “But I’m FBI,” she said weakly, like that had anything to do with—anything.
He eased back, his knees between hers, his eyes filled with the tender light of love, his voice low and raspy. “It’s okay, Eden. Like I said, I smoke. We all have our faults.”
A giggle escaped. “No, I mean that whole fraternization thing. I shouldn’t—”
He peered into her eyes, one brow spiked devilishly. “Are you breaking up with me?”
Ha! He almost made her giggle out loud with his serious, funny face. Eden honestly couldn’t speak, afraid she’d scare him off. Afraid she’d jumped the gun like she did when she’d asked if he was married. She refused to be one of those pushy women who wanted a kiss and a ring and, in a year, a divorce because they’d chased a man down until he’d caved.
“Or something, Ky,” she murmured his name through the knot in her throat.
He covered her with his body again, jumpstarting her heart, but he only planted a tiny kiss on the tip of her nose. “Then it’s settled, Eden. I’ll pick you up at 1800 hours the day after we get back to—”
“Kiss me,” she whispered. “Shut up and kiss me.”
Chapter Sixteen
Tate was missing, as usual, by the time Ky stopped kissing Eden and crawled out of the tent. Chase and Becker both shot him dark looks—not like he cared what they thought. At least they’d had the common sense to park their asses a healthy distance from the tent. They’d arranged a decent fire pit, too. Both were elbows to knees, crouched near a crackling fire.
Before he left her, Ky had given Eden a minor sedative to help her sleep. The poor thing needed rest in order to heal from all she’d been through, and he couldn’t seem to rein in that over-protective streak of his. He’d tucked her in with his jacket and several packets of hand- and foot-warmers. It was either them or him, and he knew where climbing under that fur wrap with Eden would lead. He’d be tucked deep inside her curvaceous body and all the way to heaven.
Chase and Becker wouldn’t like that, either.
He slapped the tent flap closed, shocked at what he’d just done with Eden. What he’d just said to that lady with drowsy green eyes. His feelings for her had happened fast, but each encounter with her had gotten more intimate, and a man could only resist a woman the likes of her for so long.
She was everything. His light. His air. He had to wonder though. Eden was intelligent and capable, a caring woman. What did she see in him? Because whatever it was, he knew different. She might think she had an in with that psychic link of hers, but she couldn’t see what could hurt her. Too many ghosts still hung over his shoulders. Too many nightmares.
Ky (In the Company of Snipers Book 13) Page 16
