Read Hot Pursuit: Hot Zone, Book 5 Online
Authors: Denise A. Agnew
Cops had interviewed them at the bar and had taken Danny to sleep off a drunk. The bar owner and Vic could have filed charges against Danny but declined. As a result, Lucy found one more thing about Vic to admire. With all the commotion, midnight came and went without the sensual kiss she’d wanted.
Lucy had made a decision she hoped she wouldn’t regret bringing him here. Confusion certainly clouded this, the conviction that she’d been so sure not to make a mistake with a military man again. And here she was.
Maybe making that same mistake once more.
Her street was quiet with no traffic. The older neighborhood held houses built in the early twentieth century. Tree-lined, the area still had traces of snow on the sidewalk, and some Christmas lights lingered on homes nearby. She pulled into her driveway and drove around back to her detached garage. She had too much junk in her garage to park in there, so she braved scraping snow off in the winter and heating her car when temperatures dropped. Vic parked behind her and climbed out. Her heart started a new tattoo, an excitement of what might happen. She walked up to him, his features hard to see even though neighborhood lights kept the area from being pitch dark.
“Look,” he said, “if you want me to leave, I understand after everything that happened. If you think you want to patch things up with your old boyfriend, we can talk tomorrow or—”
“No.” She didn’t want to change the plan. “I’m not going back to him.”
She thought he hesitated for a split second, then he nodded. “Okay. I missed my kiss at midnight.”
Her belly swirled with excitement at the thought. At the very least, she wanted that kiss. She laughed softly. “You got it.”
Lucy let them in through the back door and flipped on a light immediately as they entered the utility room. They took off their coats, hung them there, and then removed their boots.
“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked as they walked into her little kitchen.
“I’m good.” His smile was soft, appreciative.
“Come into the living room.” She led the way, snapping on soft lighting from mission-style lamps. “Please have a seat.”
He snagged her around the waist and tugged her to him. He groaned softly, his eyes burning. “Midnight’s come and gone. How about that kiss?”
His eagerness sent her arousal higher, and reminded her of what they planned. A mixture of excitement and fear sang through her veins. Not fear of him—never that. Fear of the wisdom of her decision. A one-night stand?
“I’ve never…” She trailed off, embarrassment surging upward.
“Kissed at midnight?” His eyes sparked with amusement.
“No, I mean, that’s not what I meant.”
Understanding filled his eyes. “You’ve never had unemotional sex?”
She swallowed hard around the truth. “No.”
He leaned in closer, eyes hot. His breath whispering over her ear. “I’ll make you a deal then. One I would’ve made anyway. One midnight kiss. After that, if you want to stop we will. Any time tonight you want to stop—any time at all, just tell me.”
Wow. This man, well, this man kept saying the right thing. Doing the right thing. How could a woman resist that?
He tasted her lips softly, with a quick and feather-light approach that made her moan. A second later he pulled back, his arms still around her waist.
That’s all?
Lucy had seen the desperation in him, the lust. He proved it by pressing a delicate kiss to her forehead, then her cheeks, and then the side of her neck. Sensation whirled inside her like a snowstorm.
Satisfaction filled his eyes as he drew back from her. “I’m glad you walked in that bar tonight.”
“Even if it was to find a one-night-stand?”
He kissed the other side of her neck. He sighed. “Yep. I’m glad it’s me. The thought of any other man having you tonight…” He shook his head.
God, if he said one more thing like that, she’d have to kiss him again.
“Because you would miss out?” she asked.
He laughed. “Yeah. And I don’t trust another man to keep you safe.”
“You’d be jealous?” She asked the question in pure amazement.
“Yep.”
Moist heat tingled between her thighs. “Oh. Um…that’s a little old fashioned isn’t it? I can take care of myself.”
“Yeah.” His fingers pushed into her hair. “But it’s a part of me that’s always been there. To protect. I was the geek who wouldn’t squish bugs and hated to dissect frogs.”
Her eyebrows practically shot to the ceiling. “Really? I totally figured you for the Bunsen-burner type.”
Vic grunted, then he laughed. “I hate to burst your bubble, but I wasn’t the angel you thought I was either.”
Now she was surprised and intrigued. “What? What did you do?”
“Later. I’ll tell you later.”
With delicate simplicity, he tasted her mouth. Sensation piled on sensation, better than her imaginings. Thoughts vanished under an instant flash of need. As his arms brought her closer with a gentle tug, she melted. Lips moved, tasted, a kiss that fell away from gentle and moved straight into heaven. She thought maybe she’d forgotten this heat, forgotten what it felt like for a man to hold her with such honest need. Maybe she’d never experienced this before, but only a facsimile. She participated, oh, she did. Her hands couldn’t stop exploring, learning his shoulders, his arms, feeling the strength. Vic palmed her back with strokes that explored, slid down to just above her butt. He skirted the edge but wouldn’t go over. His tongue slipped inside, stroking and learning hers with an intimacy that shouldn’t have surprised but still shocked. No man had made love to her like this. Subtle but seeking, controlled but fiery.
This
was lovemaking. Falling into a trance where nothing but sensation had a place.
Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.
He drew back slowly, his chest rising and falling. His warm breath puffed over her mouth, his eyes burning, wanting, telling her more than words could.
“Do you want me to go?” he asked.
She trembled with a growing desire that threatened to burst. She shook with it, overwhelmed.
“No. Don’t go.”
With a grin that screamed satisfaction and gentle humor, he said softly in her ear. “It’s crass, but I’ve gotta ask, honey. Birth control? I have one condom, but…”
But? A hot flush filled her center. Just thinking about making love to him once set her on fire. Reckless, needy, combustible fire. More than once…oh, holy mother of…
“Honey?” he asked again, and that soft, deep velvet in his voice added fuel to her fire.
“I have a whole pack of condoms in the bedside table.”
Once more, that fallen angel smile emerged. Talking be damned. She needed more, wanted more.
Right. Now.
Lucy dove into another kiss, intending to never come up for air. From that second on, as if someone had given them permission, they caught fire. She drew back long enough to pull her top over her head. It flew across the living room. Before he could move, she reached for her short leather skirt and eased the zipper down in back. With hands that shook, she slipped the skirt over her hips and down her legs. It dropped at her feet. She kicked the skirt aside. And basked in his admiration.
Chapter Four
Jesus, H.—
Vic swallowed hard. Heat slammed him at a hundred miles per hour as he took in the pure beauty before him. Lucy wasn’t perfect, at least not in a model sense, but his heart and his body didn’t give a rat’s ass. He loved what he saw.
His pants had gotten too fuckin’ tight, but he couldn’t move, paralyzed by the sight of her. His hands flexed as he wanted to rush forward to grab her up, kiss her like crazy, thrust his tongue into every sweet corner of her mouth
Slow down, Cochise. Savor her. Now is not the time to explode like a fuckin’ high school boy.
His attention slid down her body, taking in her details, imagination rioting as he visualized what he’d do to each part of her. Her shoulders were small, her arms long and slim, her breasts cupped and lifted by a bra of black lace with some silvery threads running through it. With each of her breaths, those mounds lifted. But he wanted to be the one lifting them, smoothing his fingers over soft flesh, drawing each of them upward to sip at her nipples.
The rest of her skin, down over her smooth, flat belly, was a pale that belonged to Irish heritage, a delicate white that seemed so fragile he feared to touch it. Matching G-string panties barely covered her thatch, and he licked his lips as he took inventory. Her hips were rounded, but not broad, her legs were long. In his mind’s eye he imagined dropping to his knees in front of her, sliding those panties down. He’d press his face to her, draw in a breath of her perfume, lick through her wet softness. All the while she’d moan, she’d tremble as he took his time and tasted her secrets.
His hands clenched again, his body so tight with anticipation he didn’t know if he could do slow. Hell, at this rate he was shaking inside as if he’d never had a woman before.
Or just
this
woman before. The woman he’d wanted in his dreams for as long as he could remember.
Before he could move, she walked toward him. He felt like a statue, trapped by her beauty, unable to act despite wanting her so damned much.
She reached for the hem of his sweater and eased it past his stomach, up his chest, until he was forced to lift his arms. He took control away and drew it over his head. It fell on the couch next to him. She gazed at him like a child in wonder, her eyes big, her body inching closer. His breath came faster, harder as she reached out and palmed his chest. Her lips parted, and he caught sight of her tongue. He almost groaned. God, he remembered that tongue, how it felt against his.
“Oh, my.” Her voice went breathy, soft.
She smoothed her warm hands over his chest, her small fingers tangling for a second in chest hair. Down, down, she brushed over his stomach so close to his belt buckle. She glanced down. She had to see his erection. He closed his eyes, gloried in sensation. When she unbuttoned his belt buckle, he opened his eyes. Lucy had dropped to her knees and worked on his button and then zipper. It wouldn’t cooperate.
He groaned. “Let me get that.”
Vic made short work of the button and zipper, then stood waiting for her response. Her eyelids went half-mast, and he knew that look instinctively. She wasn’t a virgin, but she hadn’t approached a man like this, hadn’t tried to be this assertive when it came to sex. Eight months of celibacy worked on his patience. One part of him wanted to grab her up, kiss her until she went limp with compliance, then throw her over his shoulder and carry her off. It brimmed in his blood, screamed for him to do just that.
Lucy stared at Vic’s glorious torso and his open pants and thought she’d die. She’d never seen a more beautiful man. His wide shoulders and powerful arms turned her on. His chest, finely sculpted, was sprinkled with dark hair that trailed down his six-pack down into his pants. His white briefs peeked out of his jeans, and she licked her lips. She had to be looking at him like he was dessert. God, she hoped he was dessert. She was so damned hungry. Her body literally throbbed. More than that, his gaze burned steady upon her, clear, staggering desire telegraphed in his expression.
He held his hand out to her, and before she could speak, he asked, “Bedroom?”
“Down the hall, last door on the left.”
He lifted her into his arms. A little gasp escaped her throat. Her arm slipped around his neck. “Whoa.”
In the low light, Lucy could still see his grin. “Whoa?”
“I’m…impressed.” She gave her silly side full reign while her libido fired into super-hot action. “Muscles. You have so many damn muscles.”
He chuckled as he walked down the dimly lit hall. “The army requires that I work out.”
“It looks wonderful on you. Me…I’ve been lucky lately if I get any weight lifting in.”
God, don’t babble. You’re acting like a nervous teenager.
Okay, so maybe she was nervous.
He grunted softly, a sound so ruthlessly virile it stirred her blood. “You’re beautiful. I’ve never seen anyone so damned beautiful.”
She wanted to claim that he flattered her, but the hot, soft way he said it sounded completely sincere. Her nipples felt tight and achy beneath the bra—she couldn’t wait to get out of it, to feel his body against hers, to learn each inch of his glorious form. Wet heat filled her center. His skin was warm, silk over steel. She slid her palm up the back of his neck. A night light in the hallway illuminated the bedroom enough to show them in soft relief.
“Remember, if you want to stop, tell me.” As he drew her into his arms, Vic’s slightly gruff voice puffed near her ear.
“I don’t want to stop.”
He kissed her ear, his voice a rough growl. “Good.”
Shivers of delight coursed over her body, and she shook with excitement. This was really happening. Now. Perhaps it should have felt wrong to make love like this, but something inside her said this coming together should have occurred ages ago. They had a second chance to connect, to find what they’d been denied when very young. They hadn’t discovered sex at an immature age, and now the pieces were coming together.
Vic cupped her face, and in those eyes she saw such gentleness mixed with sexual need. How could a man be this exciting, this alpha, and still possess tenderness inside him?
Without another word, he urged her to the bed. They rolled over the plush royal blue velvet quilt, passion taking them to higher and higher levels. He cupped her bottom, squeezing gently. Vic rolled and came up on top. He pressed his erection to her sweet spot. She groaned, her breath stolen by pleasure. Her excitement burned high, and she didn’t think it would take much. She gasped, fingers clenching his shoulders.
He kissed her forehead. “Like that?”
“Do I like it? God, yes.”
He chuckled softly, his breath coming quickly. “Me too.”
His rhythm stayed steady, each stroke bringing her higher. She arched, trying to match his movements as her body sang. Twisting, she tried to reach her peak, but it remained out of reach.
Vic fumbled with the front closure on her bra. He snapped it open, and he gazed at her breasts with obvious heat. “Jesus, you’re beautiful.”