Hell Yeah!: Gun Shy (Kindle Worlds Novella) (9 page)

Oh God,
he prayed.
Let me hold on. Let me hold on. Let me—

But God was not listening.

And Melissa was relentless.

The tide surged. His body succumbed and he released into her sweet mouth.

She continued working him as he came, keeping him mindless and delirious with exquisite rapture. And as much as he hadn’t wanted to come, as much as he hadn’t wanted to lose control, it was glorious.

When he was finished, she sat back on the carpet and smiled at him, licking her lips.

God, she was gorgeous.

God, she was precious.

God, she was a menace.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” he said.

“I did.” She winked.

He took her hand and pulled her up, then settled her next to him on the bed and kissed her. “Melissa, I wanted to please you tonight.” Didn’t she see that? Couldn’t she tell how important it was to him to give her what she needed?

She checked her watch, though she wasn’t wearing one. “It’s early.”

He had to laugh. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. But I wanted to please you too.”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “Oh, you did.”

“Good.” She pushed him back on the bed and then lay on top of him. It occurred to him that, while he enjoyed the feeling, he would have enjoyed it more if she’d removed her bra. He fiddled with the clasp. “It pleases me to please you.”

“Well,” he said, whipping off her bra. “It pleases me to please you. Now. Lie back and let me have my way with you.”

It did not escape him that she stilled—but only for a second. Then she eased back onto the pillows. “What, ah, what do you have in mind?”

His grin was wicked. “Turnabout.”

Her brow quirked. “What?”

“Fair play?” He hooked his thumbs in the elastic of her underwear and eased it down, revealing a beautiful tuft of down. He glanced up at her and smiled. It was a mischievous smile.

Because he was going to show this woman a pleasure she’d never dreamed existed.

And he would make her come again and again…even if it killed him.

Melissa lay back on the bed, barely able to control her breath.

She’d never experienced such excitement, such a blinding thrill…at pleasuring someone. The fact that she could hold Andrew spellbound, that she could make him moan and plead and lose control, was exhilarating.

Such thoughts fled as he settled himself between her legs and began to feast.

There was no other word for it, the slavering zeal with which he approached his work. With each stroke of his tongue, with each lap, suck and nip, he demolished her with pleasure, made her mindless with bliss, drove her higher and higher into a world of pure rapture.

But he was relentless. Even when she came—an explosion of delight, a riot of sensation—he continued. Like a man possessed. Like a man who could not get enough, who could never get enough, he continued. Though she pled, screamed, writhed beneath him, he continued.

She was nearly boneless when he finally lifted his head. And smiled.

It was his smile that got her. It always was.

She held out a hand to him, and with no words, as none were needed, he came to her. Covered her. The heat of his body soaked into hers. His skin was slick and scented with sweat.

So close she could taste herself on his breath, he stared into her eyes and whispered, “Are you ready?”

She had to laugh.

Ready?

He’d nearly killed her with kindness.

“I’ve been ready for a while.”

“Oh, baby,” he murmured. “Me too. I’ve been—” He stilled. His brow rumpled. “Shit.”

“What?”

“I almost forgot.” He kissed her nose and murmured, “Don’t go anywhere.”

As if
.

Then he bounded from the bed and rummaged in the dresser drawer.

She barely had the wherewithal to focus on what he was doing, but when she saw what he’d been hunting for, clutched in his tight grip, she groaned.

He almost forgot…but she had totally forgotten about protection. Thank God he had some semblance of sanity left.

He ripped the condom package with his teeth and rolled it on. She watched with a great deal of interest. His cock was beautiful and bold. It thrust toward her like a divining rod.

When their gazes met, she smiled at him and spread her legs.

She loved the flare of light in his eye. The tightness of his features. The intensity of his desire.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, edging back onto the bed. He cupped her cheek and bent to kiss her. The gentle buss quickly devolved. They were both far too needy for anything gentle.

She pulled him down, reveling in the feel of his body pressing on hers. “Please,” she whispered. “Please.”

He didn’t hesitate. Thank God. He set himself at her entrance and nudged her. A kaleidoscope of heaven spiraled through her. He sucked in a deep breath and eased in. Slowly. Oh, so slowly.

She wriggled beneath him, impatient, needful. “Andrew?” A petulant pout.

“I’m trying to be careful,” he said through his teeth.

Her response was a groan and a whispered, “Just do it. Fuck me.”

He reared back and stared at her for a second, and then—thank God—he shoved her legs further apart and thrust.

Oh. God. Such rapture. He filled her exquisitely, so deep he kissed her womb; she shuddered as another orgasm ravaged her. He groaned as she closed on him, but whipped out and plunged again and again and again. Each time with more force.

All the while, he held her face and kissed her, showered her with devotion and delight.

She lost track of how many times he sent her spinning into the ether. Lost track of time and space and everything but the feel of him filling her body, stroking her internal folds, bringing her more joy than she’d ever experienced in her life.

For while he was not gentle, while he was driven by passion and lust, there was something else there, something in him that
connected
with her. She barely had the ability to think it through, and this was hardly the time, but she felt the need to understand why this was different.

Why this was…perfect.

Then it hit her.

Andrew wasn’t doing this
to
her.

He was doing it for her.

With her.

It was a glorious concert. A duet of pleasure. A—

Something changed. His breaths came more harshly, his body tightened. His pace increased to short, hard thrusts. She clutched at him as her passion rose with his, as they both came closer and closer to that coveted pinnacle.

The veins in his neck stood out. Sweat beaded on his brow. His features were tight and hard. His gaze burned into her.

She knew when he crested. Felt him shudder within her. Felt his body succumb to her.

A wave of warmth welled at her core. It flooded out in ripple after ripple of absolute splendor, and she succumbed to him as well.

It was a tremendous feeling, a unity she’d never known.

With a sigh, she released herself to it. To him.

It was, in a word, perfect.

He was perfect.

She wanted to hold him like this forever.

Chapter Ten

Andrew collapsed at Melissa’s side, unable to do anything but hold her close. He struggled for purchase. Fought to control his hard gasps. And all the while, he reeled. Reeled beneath the weight of the emotions that had risen up to swamp his soul.

He loved her.

As crazy as it was, as fast as it had happened, he loved her.

The knowledge was a clamor in his brain.

He hadn’t intended to fall like this. Certainly hadn’t anticipated it.

It had been a slow slide—so slow he hadn’t realized it was happening—but now he was in it deep.

Funny thing was, he liked it.

He liked the sense of closeness with her. He liked holding her in his arms. He liked the idea of keeping her there forever. Of being here forever.

There was no fear. No flare of panic. No worry that one day he might wake up to find he’d turned into his father.

Because he wouldn’t.

She believed in him.

And he believed in himself.

If there was any cold, hard terror lurking in his soul, it was at the thought of losing her.

He tugged her closer and kissed her forehead, her nose, and her lips.

She was precious beyond words, so he didn’t bother with any.

They lay there in each other’s arms and kissed. Just kissed. Slow, lazy explorations.

He could have kissed her like that all night…if there hadn’t been a scratch at the door. A whine. A howl.

Her body shook as she laughed. “Someone wants in.”

“Just ignore them,” he said.

She did, for a minute, but then the howling rose and she laughed harder. “We should let them in.”

“If we let them in, this is over. You realize that, right?”

Her eyes widened and she grinned. “It’s not over now? Andrew, I can barely move.”

“I was hoping to recharge.”

“Were you?”

He nodded, but barely. It took far too much effort.

In fact, he felt himself slipping off to sleep.

Though Morpheus tried to claim him, the scratching at the door was too annoying to ignore. With a groan, he pushed off the bed and opened the door. The skitter of claws on the floor was immediate and by the time Andy turned around, both dogs were on the bed and Melissa was laughing and attempting to cover herself with a blanket.

He watched for a moment, then shook his head. “Just remember,” he said with a grin. “The dogs were
your
idea.”

They spent the next day together, wrapped in each other, and it was glorious. The only reason they finally went to town was because they ran out of food. Thank God Melissa didn’t have to work until Tuesday.

He had her to himself one more night.

As they strolled down Main Street in the falling dusk, fingers linked, he simply enjoyed the evening, her presence, the beauty of what they had.

Then, suddenly, she whirled on him, her eyes wide. “Oh. Come with me,” she said, taking his hand and giving him no choice. She dragged him down the street and around the corner. “There’s something I want to show you.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll see.”

He huffed a sigh and tried to keep up. It was a bad day for his hip and he didn’t want to let on. He certainly didn’t want to dampen her enthusiasm.

“Here!” She stopped in front of a storefront and shot him an enormous grin.

Why, he had no clue. “Um… What is it?”

“An art gallery, silly. They take pieces on consignment.”

“And?”

She gusted a sigh. “Don’t you see? It would be a perfect place to sell your glass art.”

He stilled. Stared at her.

Holy crap. Had she taken him seriously when he’d talked about that?

No one had ever taken him seriously about that.

For some reason, it made his heart lift. Swell. Spill over with joy.

He couldn’t help it. He had to do it.

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Right there on the street.

It was exquisite.

She pulled away and smiled at him. “What was that for?”

“I wanted to.”

“But…”

“I’ve wanted to do that forever.” Grab her and kiss her in public. In full view of everyone.

She rolled her eyes and snorted. “Not forever.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and they continued their walk. “Since high school, at least.”

“You did not want to do that since high school.”

“I did. I was crazy about you.” Funny how this confession was so easy now. Back then, it would have mortified him to admit it.

“I never knew.” Her voice was soft. There was a tremor to her tone he didn’t understand.

“I never told. But it’s true. I was. I am.” He stopped and cupped her face, gently curled her hair around an ear. “But it’s more than that. You…”

“I what?”

Hell. He didn’t have the words.
You complete me
was taken. “Just…Thank you for believing in me.”

She started to laugh it off, but then caught his gaze and stilled. “I do believe in you,” she said.

It was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever told him.

And then she went up on her toes and kissed
him
.

Better and better.

He was beginning to suspect what they had was as close to perfection as a relationship could be.

Though he had never let himself think in such terms, he couldn’t help allowing it now.

Because he wanted her in his life forever. He wanted her as his wife.

He knew she was gun shy. What woman wouldn’t be after what she’d been through? But he was determined to woo her. To prove himself worthy of her love—if not to her, then to himself.

When she was ready, he would propose.

He prayed she would accept.

Because then, everything would be perfect.

It was a busy night at Hardbodies and Melissa was kept on her toes all night, but at least the patrons at the bar were feeling generous. Tips were good.

Her heart leaped when Andrew walked through the door…until all the female heads turned in his direction. Melissa tried to hold back her growl. He was her man, at least as far as she was concerned.

Those bar skanks needed to keep their paws to themselves.

She made a beeline to his side.

“Scotch?” she asked, setting a tumbler with his preferred brand on the table before him.

“Hey, babe,” he said, rising up to give her a kiss on the cheek. “What time do you get off?”

“Hmm,” she said on a laugh. “I think that’s up to you.” An old joke, but he grinned. “The usual.”

“I’ll wait.”

God. She loved that.

That and the fact that she’d be going home with him.

Tonight.

“Mel?”

She turned around to shoot a smile at Isaac. “Yes?”

“Can I, ah, see you in my office for a minute?”

She studied her boss warily. Isaac was not, as a rule, tentative about anything. “Sure.” Melissa set her tray on the counter and followed Isaac to the back. The fact that the chief of police was sitting in his office made her stomach tighten. That, and the chief of police’s expression.

“What is it?” she asked as Isaac closed the door.

“Please. Have a seat.”

Oh, crap. It had to be serious if he wanted her to sit. It was not lost on her that they both watched her solemnly as she settled into the hard chair. “Well?”

Tension crackled through the room.

“I’m sorry to bother you at work, Melissa,” Chief Connolly said. “But I thought you should know as soon as possible.”

Something in his tone made little spiders of apprehension skitter up her back. “What is it?”

“Well, hell. There ain’t no easy way to say this.”

Isaac said it for him. “Baron has been released.”

“What?” She leaped to her feet, an involuntary reaction, an urge to run. “How? Why?”

“His lawyers were able to finagle parole.”

“Parole?” He’d barely been in for six months. “How did that happen?”

Chief Connolly grimaced. “Best I can tell, his pa has friends on the parole board. It’s a house-arrest situation. He’ll be monitored with an ankle bracelet.”

“An ankle bracelet?” She stared at the two men, aghast. What the hell good would an ankle bracelet do? A man like Baron could not be caged with a fucking ankle bracelet.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I thought you should know. If you have any trouble…I mean
any
trouble. Let me know.” He tipped his hat and with a grim glance at Isaac, left the room.

Isaac stood there with his arms crossed, staring at her. “You going to be okay?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I… I knew he’d get out eventually, but so soon?”

“It’s bullshit. I know. You’re welcome to stay with me and Avery.”

“Thank you. But I can’t stay with you forever.” She had to face her past at some point. But damn. She’d just hoped she’d be more prepared.

“You can’t stay in that motel. Not alone.”

That much was obvious. If Baron decided to come after her, no one could reach her in time. No one would save her.

Her thoughts flew to Andrew. He could protect her.

She needed to tell him about this. Now.

With barely-leashed panic whipping through her, she nodded to Isaac and headed back to the bar. She locked her attention on Andrew and headed in his direction.

She didn’t make it.

From tangle of bodies writhing on the dancefloor, a shadow emerged.

She knew at once—preternaturally—who it was.

She stilled.

Stared at him.

That big, looming, ominous hulk.

“Missy.” His voice was a hiss.

She’d always hated that nickname. Hated the tone with which he said it. As though he owned her. As though he could rename her. Remake her.

“Baron.” She crossed her arms and looked him up and down. “I thought you were under house arrest.”

He chuckled. “They can’t keep me in,” he said.

She’d expected as much.

“You and me, we need to have a little chat.” Without waiting for her response, he took her arm in a crushing grip and started pulling her toward the back of the bar.

She could have resisted, but it would have done her no good. He had always been stronger than her. Brute force was his
Modus Operandi
. He just usually didn’t show his true nature before witnesses.

Fortunately, he didn’t account for Isaac, who was nearly as burly as he was.

Isaac stood stalwartly in the doorway, blocking the hall.

“Move your ass, McCoy,” Baron growled. “Me and my wife need to have a talk in private.”

“I don’t think so,” Isaac said. “What you’ve got to say, say it here and now, then leave the premises.”

“You can’t fucking tell me what to do, McCoy.”

Isaac lifted a brow.

“She’s my wife.”

Melissa yanked her arm free. “Not anymore.”

“Yeah, them papers are what we need to discuss.”

“There is nothing to discuss. The divorce is final.”

His grin made ripples scud down her spine. “We married ’til death, honey. No stupid papers gonna change that.”

She ignored the inferred threat in his words. A threat someone who didn’t know him would miss. But she knew what he was saying.

Stay with me or die.

Oh, hell no.

She would rather die than be married to a man like him.

But she’d rather live with someone who wasn’t.

Her gaze flicked through the crowd and landed on Andrew. Even at this distance, even with the cacophony of the bar, he read her expression, and with a frown, stood and made his way to her side.

“Is everything okay, Melissa?” he asked, shooting a glance from Isaac to Baron.

“This is Baron Hadley,” Isaac said.

“Really?” Andrew’s brow lowered. He gave Baron a once over, one that made her ex-husband take a step back. “I thought you were in jail.”

“Early release,” Isaac muttered.

“And who the fuck are you?”

In response to Baron’s growl, Andrew stepped between Melissa and Baron, a gesture no one missed. “A friend.”

“The fuck. And get away from my wife.”

“Ex-wife,” Melissa had to say.

Baron glowered at her, his fists opening and closing in a familiar rhythm. She knew if they were alone, he’d be pounding on her about now. Which was why she would never be alone with him again. At least, not if she could help it.