The burst of adrenaline from her third near-death experience had dissipated, leaving her exhausted and limp. But alive. And this time, her living was not just because some potty-mouthed guardian angel had materialized out of nowhere and come to her rescue, as if she were some helpless weakling. Uh-uh. She’d fought back! All by herself, as in she’d really, really meant to hurt that Driscoll guy. Tripp seemed to know him, but the last time Ashley had seen those pasty gray eyes had been two years ago. Two long years of hiding and being afraid of her shadow. No. More.
Inhaling a belly full of confidence, Ashley let it ease out of her on a sigh. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t weak nor helpless, either. The third time was the charm, and she was going to take Zack up on his challenge to teach her some self-defense moves. Because next time, if there ever were a next time, she was going to kick ass and do it better.
With that decision made, she relaxed. The warmth and scent of Tripp surrounded her, lulling her to sleep. The next thing she knew, he was sliding her across the seat and out of his truck.
“Are we there?” she mumbled sleepily.
“Yes, ma’am,” he breathed. One arm slipped under her knees, and he lifted her off her feet.
“I can walk. Put me down.”
“Hush. I like carrying you.”
“Oh, well then.” Ashley snaked one arm around his neck, touched at his gentleness.
“Jameson wanted us to stay with him and Maddie tonight. Guess they just bought a big house and have plenty of room.”
“Hmmm. Maybe another time.”
“Eden called while you were sleeping. She offered to take the chicken and dumplings to Mom and the gang. I told her you’d like that.”
“But I haven’t made the dumplings yet.”
Tripp tipped her full weight onto his thigh, balancing her while he unlocked the hotel parking lot exterior door with a keycard. Hmmm. Where’d he get that?
“Eden made the dumplings, said she couldn’t let your gift go to waste. She and Ky are already sitting with Mom. So are Alex and his wife, Kelsey.”
“That’s so nice.”
“Yeah. I like Tucker’s people.”
“You’ll have to introduce me another time. I was too busy to care about anyone but you.” Ashley yawned. “I’m so tired.”
“My thoughts exactly. You need sleep and we need to be alone. Privacy, coming right up.”
“Did you already check in?”
“I did. Didn’t want to wake you.”
By then, he was striding confidently through the hotel. Normally, she would’ve buried her face in his neck, in case they came across another guest. Not anymore. This was her life. She wanted to see every last second of it.
Besides, there was something extremely comforting about being carried by this man. His chest muscles rippled under his shirt, and not once had he groaned at her weight. He wasn’t breathing hard. But she was. The size of this man and his sheer sense of self, excited the femininity in her. Made all of her girly parts stand up and take notice. Even her toes.
Once on the elevator, she stole a quick glimpse of his profile. Again, something about him felt familiar. As did being held by him like she was... The way his top teeth scraped his bottom lip when he was thinking…
“It was you. You were there Friday night, on the sidewalk outside the Health Department.” She cupped that stubborn, scruffy jaw and forced Tripp to look at her. “You’re my guardian angel. You rescued me.”
He chuffed. “I’m no damned angel.”
“That’s exactly what you said then. Oh, my goodness, I’m right. It was you!”
“Seriously?” He’d stopped at a hotel room door and again, jostled her as he unlocked it. “I think you’ve got me confused with some nut roaming the streets, looking for trouble.”
Ashley tipped into Tripp and whispered in his ear. “No. I don’t think, I know you’re the man who saved my life. You’re my guardian angel, and I love you.”
He stalked into the room and kicked the door shut behind them. “Love me? Nah. You don’t mean that. It’s only been, what—?”
“Long enough,” Ashley murmured against his cheek, her eyes closed and her nose working overtime. He was leather and wind, exactly who she thought he was. “How could I not love the man who’s come to my rescue again and again? The guy who taught me how to stand on my own feet, but insists on carrying me?”
Time was standing still, and Tripp was holding his breath. But Ashley didn’t care if he admitted it or not. This was her gift to him, total acceptance of the man he was. Did that make her a fool like her mother? Possibly. But from the start, Tripp had won her heart, and she needed him to know. She loved this potty-mouthed angel. He didn’t have to love her back, and he didn’t have to admit to anything. After this past weekend, he didn’t have to do more than exist.
She wiggled out of his arms at the foot of the bed and toed off her shoes. “You showed me how to live, Tripp.”
The heated light in his green eyes told Ashley she was onto something. Slowly unzipping her jeans, she shimmied out of them and tossed them to the built-in dresser. “Because of you, I’ll never be the timid, little mouse I’ve been all my life.” Her voice turned hoarse, but when Tripp ran his tongue over his bottom lip, she did it again. “It’s true. You made me the woman I am today.” Off came her Henley shirt, over her head and onto the dresser.
He took a step closer, his pupils like full black moons.
Ashley traced a fingertip along the top line of her bra, watching him watching her. “I’m not a little girl who can be bullied and made to cry or made to hide. Not anymore. All because of Tripp McClane.”
Reaching both arms behind her back to unsnap her bra was Tripp’s undoing. Before she could reach the hook-and-eye, he clutched her waist and tossed her into the middle of the king-size bed. Ashley laughed, but she wasn’t done seducing Tripp. Rolling to her side, she crawled on her hands and knees to the edge of the bed where he’d come to a full stop. He might’ve carried her there, but she meant to show him just how empowered she was.
He looked down at her, still and silent, his hands on his hips, as if he didn’t know what to do.
Ashley lifted to her knees in front of him, loving the uncertainty playing across his handsome face. Was her big, mean, guardian angel frightened? Of her? How amazing was that?
She had to ask, “Are you afraid of me, Tripp?”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“Ah, that would be a damned big no, ma’am,” Tripp replied gruffly, as he stared down at the woman he thought he knew. Until now. It’d only been maybe twenty minutes since he’d set Ashley inside his truck and fastened her seatbelt. She’d been compliant as hell—then. The drive to this hotel hadn’t taken long at all, but something had changed between there and here.
She’d said she loved him. Loved. That one little word. Not that he hadn’t heard it before, because, he sure as hell had. From high school cheerleaders and sometimes, from their moms. From Army-wife wannabes and tag chasers who hung around Army forts, taverns, strip clubs, and bars. But the honesty in the way Ashley said it made a man stop and think. And for once in his adult life, Tripp was really thinking, not just acting on impulse or marching out to do his duty to man and womankind.
Love… That’s what had been happening between them since Friday night. Incrementally, like an inch worm, it had opened his eyes, and he’d fallen for Ashley. It didn’t feel half-bad or contrived, not at all. If anything, this thing with her felt more real than anything he’d felt for any other woman.
Her eyes were glittering like a feline on the prowl tonight, a very sexy feline with a fat lip and a mark of courage taped under her chin. She might’ve taken a few licks, but she’d beaten that photographer like a pro. With a stick! While he had a knife! Tripp couldn’t have been prouder. He just hadn’t expected the sensual predator vibe coming from Ashley now. Confidence looked hot-damned-good on her.
He liked the jut of her shoul
der blades as she stalked him. The sway of her barely clad hips and the way her full breasts filled her bra. He loved the clear view of those breasts cupped in purple, like an offering. Her hair drizzled over her shoulders and down her arms, like black silken fingers. Her dark lashes fluttered, and if she licked her lips one more time… Tripp ran the heel of his palm down his belly and over his zipper. God, help me.
Shrugging out of his holster, he called her bluff. If this woman wanted to play, then play it was. His pistols went on the nightstand, his holster to the floor beside it. He toed out of his boots, then unbuckled his belt while she watched. The boots and belt went beside the bed with his holster.
Ashley had settled cross-legged in the center of the duvet, her lips wet and glistening, her eyes wide-open, as she watched. Not in a million years had he planned to put on a strip show, but there he was, peeling his shirt off, her eyes following every move. He saw how she wiggled her butt, shifted, and crossed her legs when he tossed his shirt over his head. How she ran her fingers through her hair, then fluffed it off her shoulders and down her back. He loved how her pretty eyes widened, when they skated over his bare chest and down his belly, with what looked like sheer delight. How she licked her lips…
Like a damned teenager, every muscle in Tripp’s body flexed at the approval shining in her eyes that, right then, were more black than blue. Her being aroused like she was, damned near did him in.
Before he had the chance to make a move, she lunged and grabbed the waistband of his jeans. With her thumb, she flicked the brass snap open and arched up into him, her lips lush and glistening, ripe for the taking. Ashley rubbed her breasts, still encased in purple, up his belly to his chest.
Tripp tipped his forehead to hers, his hands cupping her shoulders. His nostrils flared, drawing in the sweet scent of her arousal. Eagerly, she worked his zipper. At this rate, he’d be finished before they even started. That wouldn’t do.
He straight-armed the woman who was supposed to be his quarry. That was how this always worked in the past. He played the hero in charge. The woman played the coy, shy, demure, helpless female. Ashley had certainly been all that before. Yet with every blink of her big, expressive eyes, his blood boiled hotter. This wasn’t playing. The whole idea of an aggressive female in his bed, turned this night into something he hadn’t expected.
“Scoot back,” he ordered, as he cupped those lush, soft mounds of womanly flesh and strummed her nipples through the purple lace. They turned hard and tight at his touch. He was already hard as steel. She moaned, the perfect accompaniment to the unbidden groan in his throat. Man, what she did to him.
“No. You scoot back. This started in my bedroom, and I’m still in charge.”
Damned if a grin didn’t crack his face at her sass. “You’re in charge, huh?”
She nodded, no sign of the demure woman she’d been before in sight.
Tripp let go and stepped back a full foot. “Okay then, tell me what you want me to do next.”
All that brash feminine bravado shimmered with hesitation. “Don’t stop that,” she told him. Reaching for his hands, she pulled him back to the edge of the bed, then wiggled, as she placed them right back where they’d been.
Ah, she liked his hands on her body. He re-engaged happily, cupping those soft, sweet babies, his thumbs rubbing over the lace until her nipples were once again hard-as-diamond tips. He was looking down at her. She was looking up at him. Breathing hard. Her chest heaving. Still not experienced enough to know what came next, but so damned beautiful. She was breathtaking. Heart-stealingly perfect.
“What now?” Tripp asked, his voice turned to gravel and his blood on fire.
“I… I…” Ashley bit that damned bottom lip, already glistening and swollen. “Kiss me,” she ordered.
“Where?”
“Ahh…” A sigh breathed out of her as she pointed at her mouth. “Here.”
He bent over her, still palming her breasts, his knees against the mattress. Tripp kept the kiss chaste and brief, teasing this lovely wannabe-dominatrix, who didn’t have a clue how to order a man like him around.
“Not like that,” she huffed petulantly into his face. “Like you did this morning.”
“You mean when I did this?” He sank to his knees on the floor, leaned forward, took firm hold of her hips, and tongued her navel. The scent of her surrounded Tripp, and he was lost in a haze of silky softness and feminine pheromones. Closing his eyes, he kissed and nuzzled, let his nose and mouth feast their way up her stomach and between her succulent breasts. His nostrils flared at the scent of her womanly warmth. And Tripp wanted more.
Her palms settled on his shoulders. “Yessss. Just... like... Oh, fudge. Yes… That.”
He meant to take it slow. After a lifetime of neglect, Ashley needed to be in charge. But with one taste of the cherries on her skin, the fuse was lit. He pushed her bra up to her chin and nibble-kissed sloppy, wet kisses over those succulent breasts, then tipped her flat to her back and climbed onto the bed beside her. His hands landed on her waist, and his heart fell at her feet. Tripp swallowed the tip of her breast, then suckled, drawing that nipple deep into his mouth. Stretching it. Tugging and nipping. Making her moan.
Ashley’s hands cupped the back of his head, holding him to her. She’d untangled her long legs when she’d fallen back. Best move ever. Ashley’s eyes were closed, and her cheeks were red and feverish. He had just the thing for that temperature spike.
By then her breasts glistened from his mouth. Running his palms over her hips and down her legs, he took gentle hold of her ankles and pointed her toes to the ceiling. Which put her entire body in one of the most erotic positions known to man. On her back. On display.
Tripp leaned back to get a good look. Her hair was mussed. Her lips were wet. Her sapphire eyes were bright, shining with lust. Her nipples were wet, her long legs were stiff, and those damned boy shorts and that bra were in his way.
He didn’t want to scare her. He was a big guy. Heavy as a tank. Broad. Built for football and combat. Made to be in charge. But she was a tiny, slender thing. And he needed out of his pants. He’d dressed commando. His boys were dying to meet her girls. They couldn’t take much more of the zipper’s teeth chewing at them.
Without waiting to be told what to do, Tripp hooked one hand around both of her ankles, and reached his free hand behind her back. With her bra unlatched, he smoothed his free hand under her ass and kept going, until those cute boy shorts were on the floor.
She slipped her bra straps off her shoulders and tossed it away.
Tripp situated his knees at her delicious butt cheeks. He spread her legs again, wider this time. Beads of sweat trickled down his temples and between his shoulder blades at the self-control this luscious view cost. His cock was begging for freedom. But he was still in jeans and this was her show.
“What now?” he breathed huskily.
Moaning, Ashley tossed her head from side to side on the pillow. “Take your darn pants off, Tripp. I can’t reach them like this, and you know it. Stop teasing. Make love to me. Just do it.”
Thank you, Jesus!
Tripp lifted off the mattress and stripped. In record time, he retrieved the strip of condoms from his pocket, suited up, and was kneeling back between her long, stiff legs. His hands cuffed her ankles, and her toes were once again pointed at the ceiling. This was his new favorite position.
“I’ll go slow,” he told her, beads of sweat dripping into his eyes and his heart on fire. “All you’ve got to say is—”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, will you shut up and kiss me?” Ashley whined.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied. This position would give him every last inch of her. She was ready, but so inexperienced. Shifting over Ashley, he squeezed her ankles, as he thrust his hips between her legs and began breaching her core. Slowly. So slowly. He slid just the tip of him inside, letting her body adjust to his girth, to this intimate intrusion. Tripp allowed time, sw
eet time for her to accept him as slick ridges met hard, heavy steel. That steel shank sank deeper as, millimeter by millimeter, he fed himself to her, until she bucked her pretty ass up off the mattress and growled for more.
Her impatience made Tripp smile. He let Ashley take over. Reaching around him, she latched her fingernails onto his ass and slammed him home. Filled herself up. She whimpered. He groaned. For a meek little thing, Ashley had just joined them to the hilt, in heat and in blood. In heart. Hot damn.
Tripp pursed his lips at the slick, fiery heat of their union, then growled at the sudden shock of their coming together. Sparks crackled up his spine and danced down the insides of his legs. But he refused to hurt her. This woman deserved to be handled with kid gloves her first time. He tipped his torso away from her, needing her eyes. “Look at me,” he ordered.
Ashley blinked up at him, her lashes spiked. “It’s okay. I knew it would hurt. Just don’t stop.” She squirmed against him, moving him around inside her body.
“We need to take it slow, honey. This is all new to you. Hurting you was never my intention.”
“I know, I just…” Her gaze shifted to something over his shoulder.
He tipped forward, spreading her legs wider, but without sinking in deeper. He settled his forearms alongside her shoulders. “Relax. We’re not here to set any records. Let me show you how good this can be.”
“I… I…”
“Look at me, Ashley.” Tripp cupped her jaw, rotating her head until she blinked and looked at him. “I’m not afraid of you, and I sure as hell don’t want you to ever be afraid of me. You did just fine. We don’t have to do anything, okay? Let’s explore. Let’s get to know each other better.”
“You make it sound easy.” She was still blinking, and he knew damned well her sensitive folds had to be stinging from the blunt head still embedded deep inside of her.
“It is easy. Slow and easy,” he said, easing out of her slick heat, then just as slowly, easing back in, but not going in as deep. “It’s like dancing. You lead, I’ll follow.”
Tripp Page 26
