High Octane Heroes (20 page)

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Authors: Delilah Devlin (ed)

BOOK: High Octane Heroes
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Luke waved back, using the same three middle fingers she used, sending his communication off with a shy smile. He imitated the angle of her head and felt the dangerous curiosity and wonder of their chance meeting.
He wanted her in the worst way.
The blonde was pulling her friend, pleading, but she wasn’t having any of it. Luke’s unspoken message had touched her, and those golden tethers of his thoughts drew her to him, just as if he had special powers. It was lovely when that happened. He could almost believe in the supernatural, like those paranormal guys his sister read about in her romance novels.
The exquisite young thing with the well-defined legs came to within striking distance. If he wanted to, and hell yes he wanted to in the worst way, he could reach out and bring her to his arms and he could tell she wouldn’t resist. But it would be so much better if he showed a little restraint.
Those who wait?
What was that saying?
No matter. Luke felt the confusing enchantment like vamps
did in those books. It was a pleasant fantasy. Let her have her way with him.
Yes
. He could tell she felt she had a date with destiny.
I can be your destiny for one night, darlin’.
She disposed of her friend with a sharp command and, alone now, stepped closer to Luke. “You look like you could use some company,” she said as she swung her upper torso from side to side.
Her feet had implanted themselves in the sand, and he watched her pink nail polish peek out between the grains.
Lady, you have lovely toes.
But, she’d asked a question that needed an answer. “That depends,” he murmured, stunned at the joy it gave him to let his eyes walk slowly up her body, every lovely inch, heightened by the knowledge that she let him. He watched the tops of her breasts quiver under the thin cotton blouse. He’d learned to assess subtle changes in body language and heart rate. He noticed the blush in her cheeks and the red blotches on her chest just below the delicate
V
of the top of her breastbone. His gaze roamed over her quivering chest again, and he smiled. He couldn’t wait to hear her response.
“Depends on what?” she asked.
Her brown eyes mirrored truths he wasn’t sure he’d divulge to himself.
“If it’s complicated,” he said. “I like
un
complicated.” He was telling her something he was trying to convince himself he believed.
She took in a sudden brief inhale. Her gaze quickly diverted to the ocean, giving him a full pure look at her upper torso, every curve and valley, until he thought perhaps he could even taste her skin. What Luke saw in profile was a strong, handsome woman with a body made for hard loving, who was unafraid.
Then she turned back and faced him fully. Her body dropped
to her knees in front of him, so quickly he thought perhaps she’d gotten suddenly ill. “I don’t do uncomplicated,” she whispered. “I like it
complicated
and rich. I like entangled. I like feeling everything and being sorely missed when I’m gone.”
She didn’t physically touch him, but she had mated with a part of his body that rarely was visited.
His soul.
 
He walked around the front of his red Mustang, watching her squirm, crossing those impossible legs on his leather front seat. His pants felt tight from things springing to life. Yup. He had the brass band, the pom-poms and the whole fucking cheering section working on him now. It was going to be an effort to take it slow.
As he opened the driver’s door and deposited his stiff torso carefully behind the steering wheel, he knew he wasn’t in charge. When he looked at her face, she was staring at his lap.
So much for secrets.
Now that she knew he knew that she knew, it was going to be fucking impossible to go anything slower than the speed of a bullet train.
“I’m between places…” he started to say by way of an apology.
“I have a roommate, and she’s home tonight,” she said as she frowned. “But I’m okay with a motel.”
They were magic words. He leaned across the center console and planted a long languid kiss against her hungry lips, just like the girl in his dream. She wore her perfume subtly somewhere behind her ears or between her breasts, because the mild aroma hooked his chest until he found himself with his arms wrapped around her, pressing her into him, feeling those firm perfect breasts.
Her delicate fingers slid down his thigh and traveled over his erection. She squeezed him, and he thought he would explode. He didn’t want her to stop, but he’d make a mess right there in the front seat of his Mustang if they didn’t get to a motel quick.
He managed to separate himself but held her fingers in his right hand as he turned the ignition with his left. After the car roared to life, his fingers began seriously having their way with her smooth bottom from inside her waistband, working down. His forefinger had just discovered the warm cleft at the top of her derriere.
She inhaled and leaned back onto him. Her voice was ragged as she whispered, “Hurry.”
He clumsily shifted into drive, again with his left hand, and drove one-armed, with his dick big and stiff enough to guide the steering wheel by itself. The Pink Slipper Cottage motel came into view just in time. He thought about saying something like, “I wish I could take you some place nicer,” but that would draw too much attention to his meager military salary. Maybe she didn’t like sailors. Saying something like, “You’re probably used to more expensive places,” might indicate he thought she slept around a lot.
Fuck.
No, it was safest to just say nothing.
She was all over him as he signed the guest register. The college kid with thick, round glasses seemed not to notice, except he kept clearing his throat and swallowing hard. She slid a hand down the front of Luke’s pants, which made him do a reverse whistle with his mouth.
“Luggage?” the clerk asked, and then snapped his eyes shut after stealing a look at her. The young boy was in pain and couldn’t control his shaking.
“I’ll get it later,” Luke answered.
Room 428 was tiny, not that it mattered. As soon as the door closed behind him, she was removing his shirt, her hands riding up the ridges in his chest. The feel of her warm flesh against his, her hair brushing gently against the underside of his chin, the way she shimmied herself out of her shorts with the help of both his hands, was driving him wild with anticipation. He couldn’t get them both properly naked fast enough.
She stepped back and allowed a full-length view of her nakedness, her shaved pussy, and the lips of her sex, dipping down like his thirsty tongue. Her knees were spread as she let him come to her, as she twirled a bit of her dark hair between the fingers of her right hand. It was his turn to drop to his knees.
He looked up at her as his hands reached out and barely touched her, at first, then as a lazy forefinger circled her nub and slid up and down her moist passage. He loved looking at the fire building in her eyes as he made her wet, made her coat first one finger, then the other one, then a third as she accepted him fully. She leaned back enough so that he had all the room he needed, fingers digging into his shoulders, in case he might want to bring his face to her peach and drink.
Which of course he did. Happy to oblige. He saw the pink flesh of her full, bowed lips part as his tongue darted around the little button that made her jerk, as he sucked the lovely tangy moisture from her like he needed it to survive. As his fingers smoothed over her ass and tested a slight press against her anus, she didn’t shy away. His cock got so stiff, he had to adjust himself with his other hand. And he let her see it.
He was coming alive. He’d held death, but now he was holding the promise of an evening of spilled seed, sweat and anything else they could think of. She waited for him to taste his fill, her long hair falling down to touch the tops of her buttocks as she arched back and moaned.
He took his time with her, which he knew was what she wanted. She’d said she liked entangled. Complicated. Well, hell, he’d give her intense, then he’d worry about the entangled later. Right now it was all about keeping himself in check long enough not to explode all over his knees.
Finally, he stood, looking down at her, holding her face between his hands. With his fingers reaching into the mahogany strands behind her ears, he brought her to his mouth, still wet from her arousal. Before they could meet, she closed the distance, pressed against his hunger, and tasted herself on his lips. His tongue found hers and caressed it as she plunged deep.
Slowly she wrapped one leg around his and slid her wet sex against his thigh. Her breathing was ragged as she told him she couldn’t press hard enough, couldn’t get enough.
He lifted her with both hands seated below her buttcheeks, and slid her over his erection until her opening got snagged on him.
At this, she tensed. Out of nowhere, she produced a foil packet. He didn’t want to set her down, but she was determined he wear something, so he obliged her. Let her lead him over to the bed where she pushed him down, climbed on top and slowly ripped the upper edge of the foil packet. It was one of those fancy pink gizmos with ridges.
Holy goats, how am I going to last?
As if she heard him, she smiled. She pulled the hand he had resting under his head on the starched white pillow and made him help her. Used his fingers to lubricate her opening, then lubricate him, and then covered him with the pink latex. In tandem, they massaged his rock-hard cock up and then down slowly.
Two of his fingers were still inside her when his cock entered
her, and she took a quick, deep inhale, before settling herself down on him, laying her legs back and to the side for full penetration. God, he was deep.
They began a rhythmic pattern as she rode him, as she raised herself, and then crushed into him, as her muscles contracted around him, and he started to feel a loss of control.
He’d been clutching one buttcheek so hard, he felt welts on her skin as she removed his hand and rolled over on the coverlet onto her stomach. With one knee raised to her chest, he could see fully her little nude opening, the red glistening folds that beckoned to be touched, kissed, pressed to move aside.
He turned on his side and kissed her there from behind, tilted his head and watched his fingers lose themselves deep inside her again.
She closed her eyes then turned to the pillow, arching up her rear.
He came to his knees and with one finger on her anus button, he positioned himself ready to enter from behind. He rooted her opening. His stiff cock had no trouble navigating the violated, slick tissues of her sex. He plunged deep inside her, deliciously burying himself to the hilt.
He was locked in her lush body, loving the smell of her arousal and the sound of her breaths. He felt her soft flesh against his thighs, against his chest as he hovered over her, digging deep and having as much of her as he could. He couldn’t stop himself to properly take his time to explore. That would have to come later. Now it was all about having her or he’d die trying. Or explode like an IED.
She turned her face in profile to him as he continued to pump her from behind. Her mouth drew back in a satisfied smirk that made him lean over and kiss her bunched-up lips. Her eyes grew wide as he filled her, needed her more than he would ever
be able to say. He kissed her through her moans, claimed her mouth, all of her.
She rose up on her knees, arched her back, pushing her butt into his lower groin, begging him to go deeper still. She threw back her head, butting his shoulder, panting, pulling him inside her with her fingers reaching behind to clutch his buttcheeks. He wanted to ram so far inside her he was blinded to anything else going on in the room.
Her spasms tightened her opening around him. She held her breath, then shuddered, and groaned into her release. And he was right there with her, thrusting and holding firm until he could spew out every drop.
This was the part when he always got uncomfortable. Several heartbeats later, he wanted to say something. Something other than “thanks” or “that was great.” But again, it was prudent not to say anything at all. He continued to taste and kiss and rub himself against her, every bit of her he could feel. This had been way too fast. He hoped she wasn’t disappointed.
She didn’t look like she minded. Besides, he had a plan to make it up to her.
He delicately flipped her onto her back, quickly thrust back inside her, and kissed the salty hollow between her shoulder and neck.
She groaned again. Her skin felt like silk. His tongue easily traced a path down over both her nipples as he suckled them slowly, first the right and then the left. Her fingers sifted through his scalp. She traced the arch of his ears, then pulled his face to hers and begged for a deep, penetrating kiss he was only too glad to provide.
He’d fuck her until the sun rose again, and then fuck her again at dawn, and through breakfast if she would let him.
Fuck breakfast. Fuck lunch. Fuck dinner.
He’d found her. He’d finally found her, that woman from his dreams. He’d watched her walk with that tall gait of confidence only the woman meant for him could have. She was someone he could love and love hard. She could love all the sand and dust and death right off him. She would let him show her how much he needed this connection.
And she wouldn’t run away.
He was caught, entangled, willingly dying those thousand little deaths as she kissed him. His real, flesh-and-blood dream woman breathing life into him.
Again.
And he would never let her go.
Well, at least not until tomorrow or the next day.
MOUNTAIN MAN
Tasmin Flowers
 
 
 
 
 
R
ight from the start I knew it was all my fault. It was my idea to go hiking in the late autumn, and me who persuaded Frankie to come, arguing against her better judgment. It was me who left the map in the trunk of the car, and it was me who couldn’t be bothered to dig out my hiking boots. Frankie didn’t even have any, walking not being her thing, but I told her trainers would be fine. We’d stick to the paths, I said with an airy wave of my hand.

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