In the Line of Fire: Hot Desert Heroes, Book 1 (5 page)

“That’s so cool.” Colbie’s smile was wide and bright. “Too bad you couldn’t have gone with him. You would’ve been able to meet Mari Everhard. And her band. The drummer is H-O-T hot.”

Only if you had a thing for guys with long hair who didn’t wash it often enough, and Delaney didn’t. Her thing was all about tall, dark, and handsome, with a rough gentleness that set her blood on fire.

“He thinks he and the guys will get on the road sometime tomorrow morning. They won’t be done until really late tonight, so they’ll get a few hours of sleep then hop into the SUV and come home.”

“They drove?” Colbie’s face indicated her confusion over why someone would drive instead of fly.

“It’s only a little over six hours to drive there,” Rachel muttered. “It’s not like they drove across the country.”

“Still.” Colbie shook her head. “I’d rather spend the time in Vegas than in a car.”

“They were going there for work,” Delaney reminded her friend. “They weren’t hanging out in the casinos.”

“You excited for him to get home?” Rachel asked then grinned at what Delaney knew was a sappy expression on her face. “That’s good,” her friend said in a soft, warm voice. “You deserve to be with someone who’ll mess up your lipstick instead of your mascara.”

Her friends abided by the gentle but firm boundaries she’d set and started talking about other things. Delaney participated halfheartedly. After a year of avoiding Beck, all it took was one date to make her miss him like crazy. She couldn’t wait for him to get back to town.

Chapter Four

Somehow Delaney made it through Tuesday. She got a call from Beck around eight in the morning, just as she was putting her stuff on her desk at work. He told her their client had insisted on a breakfast meeting so it looked like the guys wouldn’t be getting out of Vegas until closer to lunchtime. Delaney didn’t bother to try to hide her relief at hearing his voice. She did hide her disappointment and told him she’d look forward to seeing him that evening.

Around three o’clock he texted to let her know they were going to stop by a couple of their Phoenix clients’ offices and he wasn’t sure when they’d hit Tucson, but he wanted to see her before he headed home. She texted him back, asking him to call her when he got to town.

She took time after dinner to wash the quilt she’d made for the women’s shelter. After it was dry she wrestled the ironing board out of the closet, only clonking her klutzy self in the chin once, which was cause for celebration. She took care running the iron over the fabric, admiring again the colors she’d chosen. With the rich blues, purples, and reds, the quilt could be given to a boy or a girl, and the fabric and workmanship, if she did say so herself, were sturdy enough to withstand going through the washer and dryer without shrinkage.

She folded the quilt and put it in a plastic grocery bag that she placed beside the front door so she hopefully wouldn’t forget to grab it on her way out the next morning. She’d leave it in the car while she was at work then drop it off at the shelter on her way home.

Now it was nearing ten at night. She hadn’t heard from Beck since that afternoon text, and she was getting worried. Whenever someone she knew was on I-10, heading up to or down from Phoenix, she got concerned. So many accidents happened around Picacho Peak and the Red Rock area she didn’t rest easy until she knew they’d made it past that point. She’d always figured it was people looking at the cowboy-hat-shaped mountain and then the ostrich farm that caused all the trouble.

She wore her favorite pajamas, a lavender shorts-and-tank set with delicate dark-gray lace around the neckline and at the hem of both pieces, and had her hair braided so it would stay out of her face during the night. She’d just climbed into bed when her cell phone rang. She automatically reached for it on her nightstand, where she usually put it, before she realized she’d left it in her purse, which was halfway across the room on her dresser.

Hoping the caller was Beck, she jumped out of bed. One leg tangled in the sheets and she landed on her hands and knees with a thud. She kicked free and limped to her purse, rubbing her right knee, which had taken the brunt of the fall. She managed to fish her phone out from the depths of her handbag without further mishap, though, and answered with a breathy, “Hello?”

“Hey, babe.” Beck’s deep voice delighted her senses. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Delaney wandered back to her bed and got on it to sit cross-legged. Absently rubbing her knee, she said softly, “No.” She propped an elbow on her lower thigh and rested her chin in her palm. “I just got to bed.”

“You sounded out of breath when you answered the phone.”

“I had to run to get my cell out of my purse before you went to voice mail.”

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and she thought maybe the call had dropped. She pulled her phone away to look at it and saw it seemed to still be connected. Putting the cell back to her ear, she said, “Beck? Are you still there?”

“I’m here.” His voice was even deeper and now held a husky tone that made her girly parts sit up and take notice. “You didn’t want to miss my call,” he murmured. The smile she could hear in his voice made her think he liked the idea she wanted to talk to him.

She pressed her lips together. Was she being gauche, letting him see so soon how much she liked him? Well, there was no help for it. She was the one who’d nearly strangled herself in her own bedsheets to get to the phone. He was just the observant guy who once again hadn’t missed out on her being a dork. “No.” She swallowed and added, “Are you home? You made it back to town safely?”

“Back in town safe, yeah. Not home yet.”

Just then she heard the chime of her doorbell. “What the…” She got out of bed and started toward the living room. Who could be here this late? Her neighborhood was made up of decent people, as far as she knew, but you really never could tell.

“Come to your door, babe.”

Her pulse pounded a staccato beat behind her ribs, in her throat. Fright short-circuited her brain, so she didn’t understand what he was saying. It made her voice tremble when she said, “What? Why?”

“Don’t be scared, baby,” he said. “Come to the door. It’s just me.”

She reached the front door and said again, “What?” as she got up on her toes to look through the peephole.

Sure enough, there he stood, illuminated by the light from the outdoor sconce. Delaney twisted the thumb turn on the deadbolt, turned the lock in the knob, and yanked open the door. He was back! “What’re you doing here?” She disconnected the call and clasped her phone in her fist.

“Told you I’d stop by if it wasn’t too late.” He shoved his smartphone into the back pocket of his jeans. His gaze held hers before it swept down her body. His eyes had become like storm clouds by the time they met hers again, setting off lightning zings through her body. “Is it?” he asked.

She was lost in his presence. “Is it what?”

His lips twitched. “Too late. Is it too late?”

She leaned toward him. “Is what too late?”

The lip twitch became a full-blown smile. “Is it too late for me to be here?”

Somehow his words managed to get through her Beck haze. “Oh, no. No! It’s not too late. Do you want to come in?” she asked, her voice soft with nerves.

“Yeah.”

If he came in, she knew he’d kiss her. Maybe they’d fool around a little.

She wanted that. Actually, she wanted
more
.

When she stepped back, he moved inside and closed the door, flipping the locks. Before she could ask if he wanted anything, his hand shot out and hooked her behind the neck. She found herself propelled toward him and up on her toes until she was pressed against him, breast to thigh. She kept her eyes glued to his until she had to close them when his mouth touched hers.

One hard, brief, closemouthed kiss then he let her settle again on her feet, though he still held her with one hand at her waist and one gentle hand on her nape. “Missed you, baby,” he said in a voice rough as gravel.

“I missed you too.” Delaney drew in a shaky breath. Being this close to him, having had those lips on hers, it hit her in a way it never had before just how sexy his mouth was. The top lip well formed, the bottom one full with a slight crease in the center.

Somehow she found it within herself to muster up some hospitality. “Do you want something to drink?” she asked.

He shook his head. His hand worked its way beneath her PJ top to rest warmly against the skin at the small of her back.

Delaney licked her lips as his touch seemed to radiate heat to the rest of her body. “Did you have dinner? Can I fix you something to eat?”

“Sweet.” The fingers at her nape tightened briefly and he tugged her forward to drop another kiss on her lips. “You wanna take care of me.”

She frowned. He made it sound like she was being…she wasn’t even sure what. Silly? Clingy? Too nurturing, too soon? It was just good manners. “Don’t go and get all excited,” she muttered.

He grinned. “I had dinner,” he said, answering her question. “Though…I could have a little something more.”

The way his voice deepened and his smile fled there at the end, coupled with the heated silver of his eyes, gave her an excellent idea of just what that something more was. Tendrils of heat curled down to where her pulse beat out a slow, burgeoning need.

She wanted him. She needed him.

“Beck…”

His mouth crashed onto hers. The hand at her nape moved, dived into her hair, and fisted, tilting her head to an angle. The slight sting from the strands being tugged fired her already smoldering libido. She pressed deeper into him, giving more.

Wanting more.

He took. He gave.

Delaney slid her hands up his strong arms to his broad shoulders before she drifted her fingers across his collarbone and under his jacket. He let go of her long enough to shrug out of his suit coat, then his hand went back into her hair and the other one slid to her hip and yanked her lower body tight against his.

Through their clothing, his hardness seared against the softness of her belly as his mouth devoured hers, hot and wet.

Suddenly she was airborne, swept up into Beck’s arms. “Bedroom,” he muttered, and she pointed down the hallway.

He covered the distance to her bedroom with long, swift strides. He placed her on the bed then flipped on the small lamp on the nightstand. His heavy body came down on top of her, a knee wedging her legs apart.

“Tell me you want this, Laney. Tell me you want me.”

“Yes,” she whimpered, looping her arms around his neck to draw him closer. “I want this. I want
you
.”

“Thank God.” His mouth came down on hers again. Though she was expecting it to be bruising in force, it wasn’t. He nibbled; he teased.

He made her want more.

With a grumble, she thrust her tongue between his lips. He groaned and twisted his tongue around hers, pushing into her mouth. He dropped his hand to her breast, palming it, giving another groan when the nipple peaked beneath his hand.

His mouth trailed over her jaw to the sweet spot at the curve of her neck and shoulder. She did a full-body shiver, and the heat and slickness between her thighs grew.

“Wait,” Delaney moaned. She needed to get something straight with him.

Beck immediately lifted up and stared down at her.

“Don’t…” she licked her lips and made herself meet his eyes, “…don’t you think this is moving too fast? We’ve only had one date.”

The response she got wasn’t the one she expected. She’d figured he would give her a gentle smile and even gentler words, assuring her with tenderness that the timing was right.

What he did was better than that. It was, in fact, spectacular.

He threw his head back and roared with laughter. The entirety of his body shook with it, blanketing her with warmth and humor.

“Beck!” She slapped his shoulder. “I’m being serious. We’ve only had one date.”

“B-babe,” he stuttered and went off again.

Even while she enjoyed the show of this big, handsome man laughing his ass off, his eyes crinkled, his powerful body shaking on top of hers, she glared. She wasn’t trying to be funny.

When he got himself under control, he dropped his head to meet her eyes. “We’ve been dancin’ around each other for a year, babe. That is not fast. That’s slow. As molasses.”

He was right.

“But I’ll do my best to show you slow.”

Her stomach flip-flopped and her toes curled. “S-slow is good.”

“Not sure I have it in me right now, though.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the hollow of her throat. “Missed you too much.” He shifted his weight. Even through his jeans and her flimsy PJs she felt the heat and rigidity of him against her belly. “Want you too much,” he rasped.

“Um…” Shyly she met his gaze and stroked her hands from his shoulders down to curl her fingers over his biceps. She undulated her hips, driving her softness against his hardness. “Going slow later is also good,” she whispered. Even softer she added, “And…um… I bought some um…condoms yesterday. They’re in the nightstand.”

The flare of heat in his eyes was her reward for overcoming her shyness in purchasing the prophylactics. He lifted her and whipped her pajama top off and came down over her again. The soft material of his shirt rubbed against her nipples, bringing them to tingling awareness. One broad hand slid up her thigh to delve beneath her pajama shorts and into the folds of her sex.

“Fuck me,” he growled. “You’re soaked.”

The words barely penetrated the haze of the building inferno he stoked within her. The tear of material as he ripped her shorts down her legs registered, though. “Hey!” she protested. “These are my favorite PJs.”

“I’ll buy you another pair,” Beck muttered against her throat. “Buy you a dozen.” He reared up and dragged open the drawer of the nightstand, snagging a condom.

Delaney sat up and started unbuttoning his shirt. Her hands were shaking so much she got frustrated after loosening only two. With a muttered imprecation, she grasped the placket and ripped his shirt apart. She managed to unfasten the buttons at his wrists and he shoved the shirt off.

“Guess you owe me a shirt.” His grin was wide, feral, full of heated desire. He got off the bed long enough to ditch the rest of his clothes.

She lay back against the bed and stared at him. Across one taut bicep was a black-and-red stylized tattoo of an eagle, wings lifted in flight. Black hair dusted his broad pecs, narrowing to a line bisecting his taut abdomen, circling his navel to continue down to one of the best parts of him. She wasn’t one to ordinarily wax poetic about man parts, but she loved Beck’s cock. Wide and thick and long, it was beautiful. She figured he knew what to do with it too, and if he didn’t do it well she’d be shocked.

He was muscular but lean without an ounce of extra body fat. She fought the urge to glance down at her belly, knowing she’d see that little pooch no amount of crunches could get rid of. She kept telling herself that was what happened when a woman made it over the big 3-0, but maybe it would help if she laid off the carrot cake muffins. But if she couldn’t eat cream-cheese-laden carrot cake muffins, what was the point of life?

He rolled the condom onto that luscious cock, and when his hand slid once again between her legs, she forgot about belly pooches, muffins,
everything
except Beck and how he made her feel.

He surged forward, filling her, his mouth dropping to one of her breasts, drawing her nipple deep.

“Ohmigod,” Delaney mewled. She drove her fingers into his thick, dark hair, arching her neck on a whimper. Then she had no breath because Beck began pounding into her, hands on her hips, pulling her up against each downward thrust of his pelvis. His mouth moved to her other nipple and she felt the drag of his tongue all the way to her core.