Sweet Revenge Page 9

  “You have no idea what I like.”

  “No, but I know the kind of woman you are.” He tucked his nose in her hair and inhaled. “Soft and sweet. You need to understand, I haven’t known much of soft or sweet in my life. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Her heart thumped at such uncertainty from a guy who’d knocked her into oblivion with one kiss. “You should know, I’m neither soft nor sweet.”

  “Ah, baby. You’re both.” He dipped his head to take her lips again.

  He turned the knob as they arrived at her door, and he broke the kiss. “Keys?”

  Courage somehow filled her. “My back pocket.”

  She expected him to reach under her and should’ve known he’d do the opposite. The air moved, and she found herself upside down over an incredibly hard shoulder. Her ribs instantly protested.

  He coasted his hand up the back of her thigh, igniting intrigue on the way until he drew the keys free. She plunged her hands into his back pockets and flexed her fingers on hard muscle. Her head swam. Her fingers dragged on something smooth, and she drew out… a business card. “Um, Matt?”

  “Yeah?” he asked as he unlocked the door.

  “Why do I think I’m not the only woman who’s been over your shoulder tonight?”

  The world tilted, and she regained her footing, facing him.

  He grinned. “You’re the only woman who matters.”

  Words like that from a man like this shouldn’t make her heart leap against her ribs. But even so, flutters cascaded along her abdomen. “What exactly happened when you drove my patrons home?”

  He reached behind her to shut and lock the door. “Until a few minutes ago, my night sucked and included shrubbery, Jon Bon Jovi, and drunken women I don’t want.”

  She licked her lips. “And now?”

  He focused totally and absolutely on her, and the world silenced. “A world of possibilities and a woman I’ve never wanted more.”

  Desire had claws. “You overwhelm me.”

  He threaded his hand through her hair. “You scare the hell out of me.”

  She blinked even as her thighs dampened. “How so?”

  “I’ve lived a dark life, and you’re all light. I’d break my own arm before I’d hurt you.”

  The man might be smart as hell, but he had her wrong. For the briefest of seconds, she wished she could be who he thought she was. “It’s not going to happen—it can’t—so don’t freak out… but you’d be an easy man to love.”

  His upper lip twisted. “You need to read people better.”

  If he had any clue. “You might be right.” But her heart secretly tried to hold him tight, to keep him. Years from now, she’d remember this night… She’d remember him. Even so, she tugged his shirt free of his jeans and ran her hands up those incredible abs. “Rumor has it these are classic.” Of course, she’d seen them for herself, and they were beyond real. So she traced them with her fingers, gratified when his muscles shifted.

  “Your bedroom.”

  It was an order she’d be happy to obey. But something kept her still. Defying him, she drew his shirt over his head, pleased when he ducked his chin to assist. Leaning forward, she kissed the tattoo above his heart. Freedom. He dug both hands into her hair.

  She nipped his skin, biting hard enough it had to sting.

  Drawing back her head, he lowered his face toward hers. “I like you playing, and I like you brave, but don’t think for a second you’re directing this.”

  Her eyebrow rose in challenge, feminine intrigue sweeping through her. “Prove it.”

  Dangerous words to say to such a man. But why not?

  His smile showed both amusement and the confidence of a predator. “With pleasure.” With superfast reflexes, he twirled her around to face the couch. Yanking her shirt over her head, he caged her with his body. Heated breath brushed her ear. “You ever begged, baby?”

  “Never.” She pressed back into the hard length of his erection. “Why? Are you planning to beg?” Yeah, she was pushing him. Something propelled her face-first into danger… Sometimes the reward was worth the risk.

  Nimble fingers flicked open her bra. “If I were ever to beg, you’d be worth it.” Calloused hands caressed her breasts. “But I think you’re a woman who needs to be taken… and hard.”

  The words exploded through her veins, while the sentiment landed in her stomach with a fireball of desire. “You think you’re up to the task?”

  For answer, he pressed his impossibly hard erection against her buttocks. “You tell me.” Those dangerous lips dropped to wander along the shell of her ear at the same time he tweaked both nipples, tugging strong enough to send electrical sparks to her clit.

  As if he knew, he slipped one hand beneath the waistband of her jeans, caressing down tortuously slow, to press inside her panties.

  Her body reacted without conscious thought, her butt pressing into his groin.

  “Spread your legs,” he whispered into her ear, the crass suggestion nearly throwing her into an early orgasm.

  “I, ah…”

  His other hand tethered in her hair and tugged her head to the side. Hot and firm, his lips traced her jugular until he spoke against her skin. “I believe the words were clear. Spread. Your. Legs.”

  A long shiver shook her body from the dominant tone. She wanted to refuse, to challenge him… but she wanted to continue far more. So she slid her feet farther apart.

  “Good girl.” She was rewarded by him delving deeper and slipping one finger inside her. Her eyes fluttered shut again at the exquisite sensation. So much need shot through her she would’ve swayed had he not caged her from behind. He started to play, exploring her, his thumb pressing against her clit. An unwilling whimper rippled up her throat.

  He bent over her, his mouth at her ear. “That’s a lovely sound, one just for me, and I will hear it again.”

  “Please, Matt…”

  “You’re right. I like that even better.” He removed his hand and swung her around. “Take off your clothes.”

  She lifted her chin. “Take off yours.”

  He seized her hand and pressed her palm against the hard bulge vibrating in his jeans. “Why don’t you take them off?”

  He filled her palm with heat and promise. Swallowing loudly, she felt along his length. The sound he made defied description, yet infused her with power. So she released his zipper and tugged his pants down his muscled legs. Seconds later, he’d kicked off his boots and jeans after retrieving a condom from his front pocket.

  “So, commando, huh?” she asked, her voice beyond husky.

  His eyes somehow darkening more, he reached for the clasp of her jeans. They disappeared soon after.

  Once she was fully nude, reality began to return to her brain.

  “No.” He pressed her against the couch, his hard length sliding along hers. “No thinking.”

  It was too late for thinking… too late for caution. So she stretched up on her tiptoes, manacled his shoulder-length hair, and yanked his lips down to hers.

  He returned the kiss, taking over, his mouth destroying hers. His tongue stroked hers, and she moaned, tipping her head to take him deeper, to give more. A new desire, dark and with an edge, burned through her.

  Finally, he lifted his head. “Bedroom. Now.”

  Now, that was an idea she could get behind. She reached forward to take his hand only to have him lift her once again and stride through the apartment to the bedroom. She expected a smooth lying down… and yelped when he tossed her across the room to bounce on the plush bedspread. Her laugh was genuine and filled with fun.

  Who was this guy?

  His smile warmed his face with amusement. “Your laugh both warms and arouses me.”

  Don’t be sweet. Sexy, she could handle. Well, probably. Sweet? Not a chance. “You’re too far away.”

  Most men were awkward walking naked. Not Matt. All male, all predator, he prowled forward with grace like the primal animal she suspected him to
be. Hell. The animal she hoped he would be.

  The entire time, he kept his gaze on hers. Confident, masculine, dangerous. Even relaxed and playing, an edge lived in him she hadn’t seen for quite a while. If ever.

  Was it happenstance he’d arrived in Charmed, Idaho? For the first time, she wondered.

  Then he was on her.

  Chapter 8

  He needed to touch her more than he needed to breathe. For years, when his subconscious had relaxed, he’d dreamed about love, about peace. Those fantasies didn’t come close to the reality with Laney. She was kind, she was sweet… and for the night, she was his.

  As a person, as a woman, she was breakable, and he needed to be careful.

  He’d finish himself before he broke her.

  So he settled over her and wanted nothing more than to lose himself in her. All of her.

  He maneuvered up her body. The scent of woman and vanilla filtered through his senses and landed around his heart. Hard and absolute.

  He’d trained to seduce women until he hated them as much as himself, and the idea of somebody good, of somebody kind, was a temptation he’d never resist. Add in courage and a lonely heart, and he couldn’t turn away from this amazing woman.

  Plus, he needed to taste her. Needed to know her.

  So he slid up and angled his mouth over hers, trying to convey more than he’d ever be able to say. The words weren’t his to give.

  Manacling her hip, he plunged inside her with one strong stroke.

  Her eyes widened, and she gasped.

  He kissed her again, taking her under, waiting for her body to accustom itself to his size. Slowly, her muscles relaxed, and her internal walls gripped him with so much power it was all he could do to remain still.

  He might quite happily stay joined with her forever. He reveled in the moment, in being so in tune with her. No dark thoughts existed for him when he was inside her. No danger, no despair. Only pleasure.

  She took a deep breath, a tumultuous grin teasing her lips. Her eyes softened, and she reached around to skim her palms against his lower back, her fingers along his ribs. “This is nice.”

  “What is?” His biceps vibrated as he kept himself in check.

  “You. Being inside me. Joined.”

  For the first time, he saw the real woman behind the brave and giving bartender. Vulnerable and open.

  He wasn’t strong enough to protect himself from such femininity, and he wasn’t cruel enough to shut her down. It was a mistake they’d both probably pay for, but for the moment, he didn’t care. He needed her. Even more, he got the feeling she needed him.

  So he slid out and back in, losing himself in the sensation of heaven. Tight and hot, she gripped him like she’d never let him go.

  For one moment, in one woman, he found home.

  She arched against him and whispered his name.

  The sound of her soft voice would stay with him. Through whatever the future held, he’d carry the moment. This woman should be savored, and there was no way he could keep her at arm’s length. She’d slid right into his heart, and instinct told him she’d always live there. For the short time he had left, she’d be with him. Even if he moved across the world from her.

  “Faster,” she breathed.

  He fought the demand, wanting to stay with the bliss.

  But she grabbed his ass and squeezed.

  His control snapped. Electricity danced in his balls. Gripping her, he began to pound… hot, fast, with just enough pressure to have her moaning beneath him. She met him thrust for thrust, her sighs mixing with his groans.

  A white-hot burst of pleasure roared through him, and he spread her legs wider. Keeping her open for him. Tight. Wet. Hot. She was everything he could’ve dreamed. He lifted her so she could take more of him, so she could take all of him.

  Suddenly, she tightened like a bow that had been struck, cried his name, and exploded around him.

  The sensation was too much to resist. His heart exploded in unison with her body. He thrust harder, unerringly hitting her G-spot, prolonging her orgasm. As soon as she went limp beneath him, he let himself go.

  Lava ripped down his spine to spark his balls on fire, and he came like a teenager. Hard, fast, and complete. The release blinded him, coursing through him, leaving him empty and panting. The moment left his legs trembling.

  Finally, he lowered his forehead to hers. “You’re perfect.”

  “Mmmm.” She stretched against him like a lazy cat.

  Her satisfaction filled him with pride. Sure, he’d slept with women. Either to get off or to gain information, and they’d both been satisfied. For the first time, he felt a sense of pride in supplying the satisfaction. Because it mattered, and this woman mattered.

  He grinned at her whimper when he pulled out and disposed of the condom. “Are you all right?”

  “Perfect.” Almost naturally, she curled right into him. Seconds later, her breathing deepened.

  Amusement filtered through him. She’d fallen right asleep. “Isn’t that my role?” he whispered into the darkness.

  For answer, she turned around and pressed her butt into his groin.

  He hardened instantly but slipped an arm around her waist to tuck her tight. Holding her felt like something good, something he couldn’t identify.

  Sure, he’d screwed up. His plans to possibly seduce the other two women for information had just gone up in flames because he wouldn’t hurt Laney. Not like that. So he’d have to think of another approach.

  Contentment filtered through him followed by unease. Sex was one thing, but he was feeling something for this woman. He’d told her it was temporary, but for the first time ever, the thought tasted sour. Laney was a keeper. With his life, did he deserve a keeper? Most likely not. The reality sliced into his heart with the odd comfort of a familiar pain.

  He slowed his breathing and heart rate in order to catch some sleep. With Laney in his arms, his body relaxed beyond the norm. Even so, his senses tuned in to the world around them in order to keep her safe.

  The commander could never learn about Laney… nor could Emery. For years, Matt and Emery had battled out rank and superiority. Matt cared nothing about rank or pleasing the commander, but every time he won, he gained something for his family. A sense of safety for his brothers.

  Emery didn’t play fair… He never had. He’d broken Shane’s arm when the kid was only eight, and Matt had instantly retaliated by breaking Emery’s wrist. A year later, Emery had broken Jory’s femur, and a femur injury often got a cadet removed from the facility.

  While strategy dictated Matt go after Emery’s youngest brothers, he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t go after kids smaller than he and hurt them.

  But he’d hurt Emery. Badly.

  Once recovered, Emery left the Gray brothers alone. As he trained and prepared, there was no question in Matt’s mind someday they’d fight again. This time to the death.

  News had reached Matt recently when Shane’s wife had been captured by the commander that Emery was working with him.

  God, when Josie had been taken, Shane had been beyond fierce.

  As Matt held Laney, unease rippled through him.

  He’d studied psychology, and he understood people. More important, he understood himself. As a personality type, he was a protector… probably because he was the oldest, and if he screwed up, people he loved died. From day one, he’d been a fierce and deadly protector of his brothers. He’d known. He’d known without a doubt if he ever found a woman to love, if he was ever weak enough to fall, he’d be caught forever. He’d live for her, and he’d die for her. God help the woman if she didn’t understand him. God help them both.

  Laney stretched awake, caught short by an iron band around her stomach. Her eyes flashed open. Oh God. A male body, hard as steel, cradled her from behind.

  Matt Dean. No question, that body belonged to Matt Dean. She closed her eyes, and images from the previous night paraded through her mind. Five times. She’d orgasme
d five times.

  Matt had come three times.

  Clearly, she’d won.

  She snorted, although this wasn’t funny. This was so far from funny she couldn’t breathe. So she smiled.

  The sex had been incredible.

  Her heart thumped. Gosh darn it. Her heart needed to get a grip. Matt was dangerous, and he was temporary. No heart palpitations involved. Plus, it wasn’t like she’d been completely honest with the guy.

  She’d let him in—too much. Not only into her heart, but into her life. He couldn’t stay, and she couldn’t reveal herself in such a way again. Even so, the need to burrow closer to him, to really know him, ached within her.

  His palm flattened against her abdomen.

  Her breath caught.

  “You’re thinking awfully hard there,” he rumbled, his voice rough with sleep.

  She tried to cool her already heating libido. “You know. Morning-after stuff.”

  “Hmmm. Me, too.” He maneuvered farther down and over her mound, one finger entering her. “Mainly, I’m thinking about how to best use the morning. Forget the stuff.”

  She wanted to say no, but the sound came out as more of a sigh.

  His head dipped down, and his breath brushed her ear. “You know I like your legs open, darlin’.”

  God. The simple words from the deep voice with just enough of an order instantly made her wet. “I don’t take orders from you.” Yeah. The breathlessness of her voice may have ruined her defiance.

  His index finger slid out and slowly circled her clit. “Is that a fact?”

  Heat washed under her skin to pinpoint right where he played. The fierce line of his cock pulsed against her butt. “What are you, a machine?” she mumbled.

  “Nope. Flesh-and-blood man. You can tell from the nail marks you left in my back,” he murmured, continuing to torture her.

  Unfortunately, they’d blend in with the rest of the old wounds on his back. She hadn’t looked, but during the night, her touch had felt several healed bullet, knife, and other odd scars. As a soldier, he’d seen his share of battles.

  He sank sharp teeth into the shell of her ear. “Give me one more, baby.”