Desert Heart Page 8

  Her wolf howled. Mine! Mate!

  The rest of the buttons. Faster, his eyes urged.

  Faster turned out to be easy, because she was burning up inside. The slick weight of him in her hand, the hunger in his eyes… Faster was a damn good idea.

  She popped the bottom button, spread the flaps of her shirt wide along with the cups of her front-hook bra, and slid both hands to his cock, waiting.

  “Your turn,” she whispered in a husky voice.

  He splayed two wide, brown hands on her waist. “My turn.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tina held her breath, watching Rick watch her. Deciding. Imagining. Plotting. Or so she hoped, because she was ready to be shaken, taken, driven howling mad.

  “Rick…” She was about to hurry him up, but he swept both hands up at exactly that moment, cupped her breasts, and dove in.

  He consumed her. Held her, nipped her, worked her over until she couldn’t see straight. She arched higher and higher against him, desperate for more of his mouth on her breast, more of those teeth scraping her soft skin, more of his tongue laving her nipple. He sucked, bringing her right to the border between pleasure and pain before releasing the nipple and switching over to the other side.

  Her wolf howled inside, and some of the sound slipped out until she was singing to the ceiling. Moaning all kinds of incomprehensible things. The only word that sounded like anything was his name.

  “Rick…” She mumbled it again and again.

  When he came up for a breath, his eyes were flashing and dark.

  “More,” she moaned, shuddering under his touch.

  He cupped her left breast, caught her nipple, and circled it with his tongue. His right hand swept down her body and under the hem of her jeans.

  “Tell me what you want,” he whispered, tapping a finger close, so close.

  Her hips practically jumped off the mattress. “I want you.”

  Just when she’d nearly maneuvered herself closer to his finger, he slid back.

  “Tell me.”

  “I want you.”

  “Where?”

  Where? She wanted him everywhere. “Tell me you don’t need step-by-step instructions.”

  He grinned. “What if I did?”

  Right. Like he would. Even their first time, way back when, he’d honed right in.

  “I think I might scream. And not the good kind of scream,” she added, just to get him back.

  His nostrils flared like a bull about to charge. He liked that idea, all right.

  She gave a weak kick. “Too many clothes, remember?”

  “I can take care of that.”

  He backed down and pulled her jeans off. Her panties, too. Shucked them both together and tossed them out of reach so she wouldn’t get any bad ideas about retrieving them any time soon.

  She thought he’d climb back onto her and tease a little more, but he stayed there at the edge of the mattress, gazing at her with those flashing Zorro eyes. His eyes widened when her chest rose on a breath, and his cock stood high and proud.

  He muttered to himself and slid both hands up her legs. Up, up, up, with his thumbs on her inner thighs, climbing higher and higher. He might as well have been sliding a temperature gauge, because her body heated as he moved. Jumped into open flames when his thumbs met her sex.

  “Rick,” she moaned.

  “I want to see you,” he murmured, sliding his hands down to her knees and pushing them apart. And then he slid his hands up again, slowly.

  “Oh, God. Rick.” He was killing her, going that slowly, but it felt so good.

  Up, up. He rolled upward, setting every nerve clanging on the way. And when he touched her folds…

  “Rick!” she cried as he spread her wide.

  He didn’t say anything. Just watched her squirm and dance under his touch. He slid his thumbs this way and that, experimenting. Perhaps taking mental notes on how Tina Hawthorne liked it most: where, how, at what angle, and how hard.

  “Is that good?”

  “Rick…” she moaned, because all of it was good. Too good.

  One blunt end of his thumb teased at her entrance. When it slid in, she just about popped off the mattress. Her head flopped around on twisted sheets as she murmured incomprehensibly.

  His fingers mined deep, then stretched apart.

  “Yes…” she mumbled.

  Somehow, she held on while he circled, tickled, and scissored inside. She soared higher and higher until all she saw was the white of the clouds.

  “I need you, Rick,” she groaned. “Come with me.”

  One thick finger pushed deeper.

  “Please. Rick. Come,” she begged.

  He folded over her and groaned in her ear. “Need a condom.”

  She could have screamed. Wolves didn’t need condoms. But how could she explain? Rick, I know I’m behaving like a bitch in heat, but I promise I’m not actually in heat. And not only that, but wolves are immune to human diseases.

  “No. No condom.” She raked at his back, trying not to scratch in her desperation. “I promise. I’m good. We’re good.”

  He studied her for a moment, indecision tearing at his face.

  “Tina…”

  “I swear.” She tugged at his shoulders. “Please…”

  His lip quivered, and then he gave in. He crawled higher to kiss her, and though it started as a gentle touch, it ended up a tornado. She wiggled under him, lining up under his hips, wrapping her legs around his waist.

  “Rick…”

  He slid in with one blinding push.

  “Yes!” she cried, urging him deeper.

  He bottomed out but kept up the pressure, pushing hard. She could feel the stretch, the heat, the sheer power inside.

  “So good,” she mumbled, telling herself it was real. Not a dream. Real. “So good.”

  The tornado jumped into his eyes, and she wondered what her own eyes were showing. Were they swirling like this whirlpool she felt swept up in? Glazed over? Sparkling with lust?

  Rick squeezed his lips tight and pulled back, then thrust back in.

  “Jesus, Tina…”

  “More,” she moaned, pulling him in.

  He thrust in and out, in and out. It took her a minute to match his rhythm—a long, hot minute that was a high in and of itself. Then they moved in perfect sync, her hips bucking up as his drove down, her hands squeezing, her inner muscles clamping down harder and harder. So hard even Rick started to groan.

  If she had him in her hand, she’d play him like a piano, striking one note after another as she moved down the keys. Her hands were busy on his sculpted ass and his cock was buried deep, deep inside, so she mimicked the motion with her inner muscles, rippling over him from top to bottom.

  He groaned long and hard against her neck. “Again.” His voice was raspy and low. “Do that again.”

  She pumped again, and he groaned. Then he set off on another series of insistent thrusts, working her up the mattress in tiny increments until the rhythm shattered into a dozen wild plunges. They both hung on, neither one of them in control. All instinct, all nature, all heat, until they tipped over the edge and went flying. Rick shuddered and went hard all over, his eyes squeezed shut. Tina convulsed, soaring away on a high like none she’d ever imagined. When she finally wafted back to earth, they were both panting and limp in the sheets, flush with satisfaction and wonder. Her fingers were clutching the sheets, and it took a conscious effort to let go. She never wanted to let go, not of any part of this.

  She counted the beats of his heart, the grooves of his ribs, the individual hairs curling around his ears. Counted and held on and did her best to record it for all time, just in case.

  When Rick pushed back on his elbows, she nearly protested, but stopped when he cupped her face with both hands and looked into her eyes, drinking her in.

  “Tina…” he started.

  Part of her wanted to hear the words she saw poised on the tip of his tongue. I love you. Stay with me.
Be mine and let me be yours.

  The very words he’d spoken to her a long time ago, begging her to come away with him.

  But hearing them would shatter her, because she couldn’t say yes. So she pulled him back into a kiss. Right now was about right now. And later… Well…

  She sighed and hid her face against his neck.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tina cracked an eyelid open, then immediately closed it again. That light slanting past the panoramic windows wasn’t coming from the east. It couldn’t be. Somehow, she’d gotten turned around. That had to be west, and it was dusk, not dawn, right?

  She shut her eyes tightly. Dusk. It had to be. It might be conceivable that her quick afternoon business meeting had turned into a whole afternoon of unbridled passion, but there was no way—no way—she’d ever allow herself to indulge in an entire night of sex. Not even with Rick.

  Could she?

  But a rooster was crowing, the cattle lowing, and the scent wafting through the open windows was that of the chuparosa with its sweet scarlet flowers. The barn owl had long since stopped hooting, and the air was cool. Too cool for evening.

  Her eyes popped open and took in the pinkish-yellow light of dawn.

  Oh, God. Dawn?

  Her inner wolf yawned and rolled over. Too early to get up. Much too early.

  It wasn’t too early. It was late. Much too late! She couldn’t believe what her inner beast had made her do.

  Right, like it was me howling at the ceiling last night. Her wolf grinned. Like it was me running my fingers down our mate’s chest, begging for more. Like it was me—

  She jammed her hands over her ears to squelch the inner dialogue. Enough, enough. God, what had she done?

  You done good, the beast sighed dreamily. The best night we’ve had in years. Maybe forever. Just us with our mate.

  Rick’s arm was still snug around her waist. His chest warmed her back, and she sighed in spite of herself.

  Our mate, the wolf repeated, just to reinforce its point.

  Images of the previous night flashed through her mind, some quick, others in super slow motion. Like Rick, lying over her, his jaw clenched as he thundered into another incredible high. Rick, flat on his back, looking up with a glazed expression that said there was no greater privilege than being ridden by her. Rick, snuggled face-to-face with her, smiling that little-boy-all-grown-up smile.

  She drifted away on that smile, entangled in intimate memories that pushed away the fear and doubt. The more she held on to them, the more the images boiled down to simple things. A warm bed. A soft touch. A good man. One with just the right amount of hard in just the right places.

  She blinked back into real time, and there he was, smiling at her again.

  “Good morning.” His voice rumbled through the crisp morning air.

  Good morning, my love, her wolf prompted.

  What a morning it would be if she truly got to say that.

  “Good morning,” she whispered back.

  And suddenly, she was stuck, because she’d never ever woken up with a man. With wolves, there were no mornings-after. Whether in human or canine form, it was all the same: they screwed hot and hard then got on with life. No awkward wake-ups, no empty promises, no regrets. The few human lovers she’d had, she tumbled away from before they got too attached, because she could never, ever allow a human too close.

  And yet here she was, smiling at Rick in spite of herself. He was impossible, just impossible to resist.

  Destiny, her wolf grinned.

  Like that was a good thing. Like destiny cared that the only way forward for their love led to tragedy.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured, reaching out to smooth her hair back. He ran a finger over her right eyebrow then leaned in with a kiss. A kiss so good, so true, that she forgot about destiny and tragedy for another blissful minute or two.

  Or twenty, or thirty, because the kiss got away from her. And just like that, she was wrapped around him again, making crazy little whimpering sounds while their bodies worked their magic one more time.

  I love you.

  It was in his eyes and on the tip of her tongue when they lay clasped together afterward, and she might just have let it slip if the phone hadn’t rung.

  Let the damn thing ring, her wolf growled.

  “Just leave it,” Rick whispered a little more diplomatically.

  But the phone rang and rang, and damn it, rang a little more.

  She rolled off the bed, fished through the clothes strewn around the studio apartment like confetti, and pulled it out of her jeans pocket.

  “Hello?”

  Rick rolled off the bed behind her and padded over to the coffee machine in the apartment’s tiny kitchenette.

  “Morning, Grumpy,” her brother’s cheery voice replied.

  “Cody?”

  “No, it’s Ty,” he joked, lowering his voice to a grumble. “Can’t you tell?”

  “Very funny, Cody. What do you want?”

  “Well, seeing as you seem to have had a late night…” He let the words hang in the air for ten slow seconds before clearing his throat loudly and finally continuing. “And since I couldn’t find you this morning as you seem to have gone out really, really early… Like predawn early, or maybe even forgot to come home…” His voice dripped with innuendo. Damn her little brother!

  She stirred the air with her hand and used the nickname no one had spoken in years. “Get to the point, little man.” If her six-foot brother had a point other than to tease her, that is.

  “Right. Well, I was going to pick up Carly today, but there’s been a report of trouble out of the east side—”

  Her heart thumped harder. Hellhound? “You mean, the…the…” She couldn’t exactly say it, not with Rick right there.

  “Maybe. Look, I have to check it out with Kyle, so I need you to pick up Carly. Her flight comes in at nine.”

  Her eyes flew to the clock. She’d just make it if she rushed.

  “Of course, if you’re too busy,” Cody said, slipping back into surfer dude tone, “I can tell Ty and ask him to pick—”

  “No!” she yelped into the phone. It had taken years to get her father and older brother to accept that she was all grown up, and even so, they still used the stare of death on any male suspected of fooling around with her. Rick, they’d kill on the spot. “Cody, if you so much as—”

  He laughed. “Just kidding. Unfortunately.” He gave a theatrical sigh. “I owe you forever for helping me win my mate, so I’ll have to let you off the hook. This time.” She could see the wink hidden in his words. “But it would be a big help if you could get Carly.”

  “I will. But you owe me.”

  “I do owe you.” His voice was serious for a change.

  She clicked off, sighed, and looked up to find Rick—gloriously naked Rick—handing her a steaming mug of coffee.

  She blinked. Coffee? When was the last time anyone had made coffee for her?

  Apart from Aunt Jean on the occasional quiet afternoon, nobody. Ever.

  “Café con leche.” He smiled and pulled her back to bed, where he lay down, propped on one elbow. “Just like my dad used to make.”

  She took a sip, placed the mug on the side table, and curled up beside him like a cat, perfectly at home. Just like in her dreams, it was her and the love of her life, waking up together, starting a day together. The ultimate fantasy, because they were both naked, too. Her mind threatened to run away on that one, but she reeled herself back in. She couldn’t allow herself any more fantasies or any more mornings. This had to be it.

  “I have to go,” she mumbled, although her body refused to budge.

  He rubbed a thumb across his chest in that absent gesture she loved so much. “Yeah?”

  “I have to pick up my sister at the airport.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “You have a sister?”

  “Carly. She lives in California with her mom.” She cursed inside, because her voice was suddenly wistful an
d weak, like it always was when she wondered how different life would be if she’d had a mother to live with. Just to talk to, even, from time to time.

  Rick studied the swirl of milk in his coffee, lost in his own thoughts. Was it worse to be left behind by a mother who’d run out, she wondered, or to lose a loving mother to cancer far too young, as Rick had?

  When he finally took a sip, it ended up being a heavy gulp, and he winced a little. Her, too. Then he flashed a tight, bittersweet smile. Like he knew just what she was thinking. Maybe even wondering the same thing.

  She took his hand and held it, and the warmth traveled up her arm, making her chest swell just a little bit. A little more when he pulled her knuckles to his lips and kissed them without saying anything.

  Over in the main house, the grandfather clock bonged. Eight o’clock.

  “I have to go,” she whispered.

  He smiled that tight, bittersweet smile and kissed her knuckles one more time.

  “No breakfast?”

  She shook her head slowly. Sadly. No breakfast. No mornings. No more.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “See you soon?” Rick forced his voice to be steady.

  Tina’s gaze fluttered to the ground, to the wilted flower beds, to the road. Anywhere but to him.

  “See you soon,” she whispered, and then she was gone.

  Rick stood on the Seymours’ porch, watching the dust cloud of her Corolla rise to the pale autumn sky for a long time after she drove out of sight. He stared into the distance as the dust slowly settled again.

  He kicked at the dirt and sighed.

  Tina. He’d stayed up a long time after she fell asleep, just looking at her, and woke up early to do the same thing. He could run a finger along her back, her eyebrow, her hip again and again and never get tired of it. He could get old happily and even go blind in the other eye, as long as he could still feel her, touch her, sense her at his side.

  He’d have thought they’d more than made up for lost time with the number of orgasms they’d both hit, but his fingers still flexed in empty air, wishing for her back. Because there was the high that came with sex, and there was the peace of coming home. He raised his nose to the desert air, sniffed like a dog, then chuckled to himself. Tina definitely brought out the animal in him.