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The Two and the Proud(12)

By:Heather Long


“No, it’s spot-on pleasure and protective instincts. Me, man. You, woman.” He mimicked a Tarzan tone.

Her snort amused him even more. “Okay he-man, she-hulk is glad she not have to smash, too.”

Humor chased away the melancholy, and he threw his head back and laughed. They shook together, giggling like a pair of adolescents on a naughty sleepover. The laughter was a cool autumn breeze, chasing away the sticky heat of summer. She shifted next to him. Her teeth grazed his nipple and his mind locked up.

Roaming a hand over his chest, she elicited tingling sensations with every teasing caress of her nails. She rolled over him, her damp kisses teasing across to the other pectoral while her hair slid across him like a sensuous blanket. Cupping a hand around his cock, she stroked a finger to the tip and slid down to sit against his thighs.

“Since we’re awake….”

The darkness in the room hid her smile, but he heard it. The flashes of lightning backlit her, a storm goddess come out to play.

“If you insist.” He grinned.

“Oh, I absolutely do.” She stroked him again, tracing her thumb over the head. No other part of her moved. Her head tilted, as though she watched him. Her hair glided over her shoulders, the length of it reached her breasts. He envied her hair—he wanted to play with her nipples, too.

She gripped the base of his cock and pumped a few times. He coiled, tension gathering at the edge of his nerve endings. His balls tightened and his humor evaporated. Like oil crackling on a super-heated pan, he was hungry for her again.

She released him and he bit back an oath. Instead of taking him in her hand again, she slid off his legs and balanced with a palm against each thigh. Without a word, she touched her tongue to the base of his cock and licked up one side to the crown, swirled her tongue around the slit and down the other side.

His body clamored, all the blood rushing to his groin, and his eyes crossed. Holy shit…. She repeated the lazy exploration with her tongue and pulled him into her mouth. His thoughts scrambled. She set to work, kissing, licking, sucking and driving him crazy. The tension in his tight balls surged, and he dug his fingers into the sheets, fighting the urge to roll her over and pound into her. She tried to take all of him, her hand increasing the pressure at the base.

Clenching his buttocks, he refused to buck, letting her drive the rhythm. His cock bumped the back of her throat. Her nails caressed his balls—a feather light touch—but he exploded, release swamping over him like a wild tempest sweeping away his control. She didn’t pull away, caressing him through the orgasm. Long minutes passed before coherent thought began to surface from the waves. She slipped away and came back with another water bottle and snuggled right to his side.

And the damn thing was he could sleep now, doused in the warmth of her embrace. He fought the closing of his eyelids, wrapping an arm around her to hold her closer.

What a perfect fit….



***



Dawn came too soon. She stood in front of the windows and stared out over the city. The storm had blown itself out sometime in the early hours of the morning. The sun turned the eastern sky a rich azure with streaks of pink and hints of orange. Rowdy’s warm, masculine arms slid around her, and she leaned back against his chest. He enveloped her in his clean, shower-fresh scent and she sighed.

“Real world time.” She fought to keep her tone light. The last thing she’d expected was reluctance to leave.

“Five more minutes.” His arms tightened and she closed her eyes.

“Okay.”

They stood until her phone buzzed, reminding her about a meeting. He let her go and she pulled it out, thumbing off the alarm. Steeling her courage, she turned to meet his gaze. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” He smiled and her lips curved in response. “If you ever need to talk….” The invitation trailed off.

“You, too.” She forced herself to walk over to the safe. Unlocking her gun and strapping on her holster made it official. She tugged on her jacket then reached into her wallet and extracted a business card. She held it out between two fingers. “Seriously—you know, if you need anything—call.”

He accepted the card and slid an arm around her waist before she could slip back, tugging her close. He leaned down and pressed the sweetest kiss to her lips—no demand, no hard need—a tender gift. Forehead to forehead, his gaze locked with hers. “Cut yourself some slack, Special Agent Wakefield, and let your men watch your back.”

“I’ll do my best.”

And she was off, wrapping her soul in the body armor it would need to push on through the investigation. The loneliness dogging her steps for the last few months was gone—erased in one night. She left Rowdy in the room, but when she walked off the elevator and into the lobby—she whistled.