Coyote Heat (SEALs On Fire) (3 page)

Before moving to Key West she’d given her heart willingly to another man in the military who took it and squeezed the life out of it. The day he was transferred, they had a hot farewell with promises exchanged. And that was the last she heard from him. Ever.

But gossip had drifted back to her from others who knew him, remarks he’d made about still looking for that “special” woman. One who understood about his career. Apparently, she was lacking. Somehow she had nothing to offer a man like him to keep him.

Her friends had argued with her, told her it wasn’t her. That he probably used that as an excuse to keep from making a commitment to anyone. But it still wounded her and made her doubt herself.

Depressed and needing a change, she applied for the work-at-home position in the software company she worked for and moved to Key West, a place where she had happy memories from trips with her friends. She was lucky enough to find a small cottage to rent, and as she drove over the bridge to the key, she vowed never to put herself in such an emotionally disastrous situation again.

Don’t lay yourself open emotionally. You haven’t got what it takes.

Don’t hook up with anyone in the military. They are too full of themselves.

Don’t take anyone home with you. Go to their hotel or wherever so
you
can be the one to leave.

But that first kiss? Lordy, now she knew what women said about the earth moving. And it blindsided her. So here she was, breaking every single one of her self-imposed rules and rather than silently berating herself, she was actually filled with anticipation? What was
that
all about?

He’s gorgeous and hot, and the sex will be great. Leave it at that.

He was being totally up front with her. She didn’t need to start reading anything else into it.

As if sensing the turmoil inside her, Coyote reached over and stroked her hair, tucking it behind her ear.

“It’s okay if you want to change your mind,” he said in a soft voice. “We can go back to the Pier or anyplace else you want. Have another drink or two. Maybe even dance.”

She swallowed hard and shook her head. “No.” The word sounded scratchy so she cleared her throat. “No, I want this. I do.”

“Okay. Good. But I just want you to know the choice is yours.”

Damn straight the choice is mine.

She’d allowed herself to be hurt enough. She wouldn’t put herself in that position again.

By now, they were at her cottage. She directed him into the driveway next to a row of hibiscus bushes. Cori was glad she’d left a lamp on in the living room so the house wouldn’t be totally dark when she came home. Instead, it looked warm and welcoming. When he turned off the ignition, she sat for a moment, gripped by a sudden attack of nerves. Okay, just sex, but what if he found her lacking? A man like Coyote Cruz had probably had so many women he was in the Guinness Book of Records.

His warm hand closed over hers.

“It will be okay, Cori.” That same smooth honeyed tone that melted her inside. “You’re in charge.”

Crossing her fingers that he meant it, she smiled. “Let’s go inside.”

The house was a typical Key West cottage, two bedrooms, two baths, ceiling fans. But it had a few things that had attracted Cori. The polished wood on the floors blended with the cool soft pastels on the walls. A small front porch overlooked the street, but the back had a large pergola over the patio with built-in benches. The yard was filled with gorgeous flowering shrubs that she enjoyed keeping trimmed. And the rent was very affordable.

Coyote looked around, taking it all in. “Great place. Comfortable.”

“I was lucky to get it. Rentals on the island are outrageous. This is owned by a friend of a friend.” She wet her lips. “Would you, um, like a drink? Or something?”

He gave her his melt-your-panties smile. “Or something.” He held out his hands. “Come here, Cori. Let me touch you.”

She moved into the circle of his arms, and his mouth brushed against hers, stirring that crackle of fire inside her body. He took his time, his firm lips scraping back and forth over hers, one hand sliding up her back so he could wind his fingers in her hair. With his tongue, he traced the outline of her lips over and over again, then the seam, until finally she felt the soft pressure of his tongue silently urging her to open for him.

He tasted even better than the kiss on the beach. The spicy flavor of the beer mingled with the mint of toothpaste and the taste that was distinctively Coyote. His tongue slid gently over hers, the touch like a kiss, first gentle then demanding, and urged her to dance with him in erotic invitation. He fingers threaded through her hair and tilted her head one way then another to give him a better angle. He probed deeper, more possessively. Cori melted against his muscular body, her breasts pressed to his chest, nipples tingling. She could go on kissing him forever.

One hand slid easily down her back to cup her ass, pulling her against his groin where she felt the hard ridge of his cock. His
large
cock. Immediately, she felt the pulse in her pussy come to life and her thong dampened with the liquid of her arousal. In fact, it seemed every pulse point in her body suddenly pounded with the ferocity of a jungle drum.

Her surroundings disappeared along with any rational thought as he kissed the life out of her. His mouth was warm, his tongue scorching, and all she wanted was to become part of him. When he lifted his head, breaking the kiss, she blinked, dazed, bewildered. Was something wrong?

But Coyote’s smile and the hunger burning in his eyes wiped away any doubts.

“I don’t think we want to do the rest of this standing up, do we?” His voice was like warm molasses.

“Um, no. No we don’t.” Cori couldn’t seem to unscramble her brain. She stared at him but he seemed to be waiting for something. “Oh! Oh, this way.”

She took his hand and, on legs that threatened not to hold her, led him into the short hallway and her bedroom. She’d left a light on in here, too, a bedside lamp on low so the room was bathed in a soft amber glow. Should she turn it off? Leave it on? Did he prefer sex in the dark?

Could you think more like an idiot that you are?

She reached out to turn off the lamp, but his fingers closed around her wrist. “Leave it on. I want to see you.”

He cupped her cheeks lightly and tasted her lips with the tip of his tongue then traced a line along her jaw, down her neck, across to the pulse beating at the hollow of her throat. The touch of his mouth there sent shivers skating along her spine. Gripping his forearms, she tilted her head back to give him better access and was rewarded with the brush of his tongue across the upper swell of her breasts.

When he pulled one of her hardened nipples into his mouth, sucking it through the tank top and her bra, she couldn’t help the little moan that escaped. The nipple throbbed, and her breast ached with painful need. He brought both hands up to cup her breasts in his palms, and she leaned into his touch, wanting more.

“Let’s get this tank top off, shall we?” His voice still had that low, thick, heated sound.

Cori reached for the hem to pull the top over her head, but Coyote gently brushed her hands away. “Let me. Please.”

And when was the last time she’d had sex with a man who said please? That certainly said a lot about the men she chose to climb in bed with.
When you deliberately choose men who won’t invade your heart, you give up a lot of other things along with it.

She raised her hands, and he gentle tugged the material over her head, tossing the garment aside. He stared in hunger at her breasts, covered in the nothing scrap of silk and lace that was her bra. He traced the flesh above them with the tips of his fingers, staring as if he’d never get enough of seeing them, then flicked open the front clasp and dispatched the bra with her top.

A chill skimmed over Cori’s skin, but it had nothing to do with cold and everything to do with the way Coyote was drinking in the sight of her. He lowered his head and very softly kissed each stiff nipple then scraped it lightly with his tongue. The shivers escalated. She could hardly wait to get to the next step, but he seemed determined to take his time. And was that such a bad thing, compared to men who blatantly made it plain that it was all about them?

He took a step backward, reached for the button on her shorts, popped it loose, and slid the zipper down in a slow glide. He pushed the fabric down to her ankles, and she stepped out of it, nudging it to the side. And there she stood, wearing only her white silk thong and strappy sandals. His gaze raked her from head to toe then he knelt in front of her, clasped her hips, and licked her pussy through the thin fabric.

Heat streaked through her body, and she thrust her hips forward, silently begging him to taste more. Deeper. But as with everything, he was taking this so slow she was ready to beg him to hurry, hurry, hurry. She pushed her fingers into the thick black silk of his hair, holding on for dear life as his tongue licked and lapped, traced the seam between hip and thigh before returning to her cunt.

Unexpectedly, an orgasm gripped her body, the walls of her pussy clenching, her body shaking. She anchored herself with her grip on Coyote’s hair as he continued to use his mouth on her, riding her through the release. Panting in the aftermath, she tried to remember the last time she’d come that easily without even being penetrated. God, the man had the most talented mouth.

He rose to his feet, folded back the covers on her bed, and lifted her onto the sheets. Alternating his movements with light kisses on her knees and thighs, he unbuckled her sandals, dropped them to the floor, and very slowly eased her soaked thong from her body. When he lifted the fabric to his face, slowly licked it then inhaled her essence, tremors raced through her cunt again.

“I could rub your scent all over my body,
mi azucar
,” he drawled. “I might take this with me when I’m on a mission. For luck.”

Oh, god!

“Wh—What does that mean? That word you just used?”

“It means my sweet.” He inhaled the fabric one more time. “And god, you are all that.”

He dropped the thong then tugged his T-shirt over his head. Lying back on the bed, watching him, Cori’s eyes drank in the sight of his ripped body, his hard abs, the fine mat of dark hair covering his chest. She wanted to lick him all over, the way he’d done to her, and take little bites out of him. Moisture pooled in her mouth, and she had to force herself to hold her body completely still.

He unclipped his pager and cell and set them on her nightstand before bending down to brush a kiss over her lips. Kicking off his deck shoes, he lowered the zipper on his jeans with agonizing slowness. He pushed them past his hips, and her eyes widened even more when she saw he went commando. But then the jeans were gone and all she could think about was the magnificent cock jutting from the nest of curls at his groin. It was thick and pointed straight at her, the head a deep plum with a bead of fluid sitting on the slit.

She lifted her gaze and found Coyote staring at her with such hunger in his eyes that instantly moisture flooded her pussy, so much so she felt the stickiness on the inside of her thighs. She ran her tongue slowly over her lips then rose to her knees and reached for him.

“Careful, sweet thing,” he warned. “I don’t want the party to be over before it starts.”

Mischievously, she leaned forward, wrapped her fingers around his hard length, and gave the velvet head one gentle swipe with her tongue. Coyote sucked in his breath and pulled her head away.

“Later. When I have more control.”

He reached into his jeans for his wallet, pulled out a three foil-wrapped packets, dropping them on her nightstand.

Cori’s eyes widened, and for a moment, she felt a quick stab of pain. It was obvious he’d come to Sunset Pier on the hunt tonight. She knew that, right? Apparently, any willing body would have done and didn’t she just provide one in a hurry. So what was her problem?

Stop it! You keep telling yourself you don’t want anything else either, so shut up and enjoy it.

Only Coyote Cruz was turning out to be much more than she expected. Much more than she’d been looking for.

Deliberately, she shut all those thoughts away and willed herself back to the feeling of eroticism that had been building in her since the first kiss. Whatever it was, she’d enjoy every minute of it.

Coyote stretched out beside her on the bed, the heat of his body surrounding her. He trailed the tips of his fingers over her then turned her to face him and dusting her face with soft kisses. He nibbled lightly on one earlobe before licking the tender spot behind it. One warm hand cupped a breast, the thumb brushing lightly back and forth over the nipple. Tiny shivers skittered over her at his touch. When he had one tip hard and pebbled, he turned his attention to the other until it, too, was stiff and aching.

Threading his fingers through her hair, he turned her face toward him. “
Querida,
” he breathed. “
Mi amante. Mi bella
. So, so sweet.”

Somehow the words sounded so much more sensual in Spanish, so erotic and arousing. She melted into his touch, opening her mouth for him, welcoming the hot flame of his tongue, feeling the iron-hard length of his cock against her skin like a branding iron. Her pussy throbbed with need, but Coyote Cruz was taking his deliberate time.

As with everything else he did, the kiss was slow and deliberate. He explored her mouth, tasting every corner of it, holding her head in place. He shifted his lips to trace her jaw with light kisses and little nips before feasting on her neck and finally nipping lightly at the hollow of her throat. She knew he could tell how furiously her pulse raced.

She slid her hand along his back, feeling the play of muscles beneath his skin. Pressing herself against him, she arched into his lips as they slid from her mouth along the valley between her breasts. Searching out the solid muscles of his ass, she raked her fingers lightly over them.