Her Last Line of Defense (7 page)

She sighed again and unbuttoned her shirt. The breeze cooled her bare stomach so well that she took the shirt off altogether. Her gray sports bra covered more than enough compared to the lacy lingerie she preferred but didn’t have with her. She could have used another weapon to break down Luc’s resolve.

She looked around idly, still self-conscious about sitting in the open wearing only her bra, but she was alone. Luc was off communing with nature, or conquering it and stomping all over it, more likely. He had said something about checking the traps they had set in the morning. She had no idea there were so many ways to lure small animals to their doom. She half hoped none of them would take the bait, but her growling stomach was overcoming more and more of her squeamishness.

Geez, if she was this savage after two days and nights in the wilderness, what would she do after a week? Probably eat raw bugs and cheerfully club alligators and hand-tan their skin. Claire snickered. What every stylish Virginia girl wanted: a purse from the alligator she killed herself.

The fishing line jerked, stirring Claire out of her hunger-induced fashionista fantasy of matching alligator hiking boots. She leaped up from the ground and grabbed the pole. “Easy, easy,” she muttered, not wanting to lose this fish. Lifting gently, she pulled a good-size silver fish from the water. “Yay!” She grasped the fish behind the gills and unhooked it, wiping her slimy hand off on her shorts. The poor thing flopped around on the groundsheet. “Sorry, Charlie,” she said, parroting the old canned-tuna ad, and laughed.

She reached for another worm and baited the hook. Janey should see her now. A girl who hadn’t even done dishes without gloves was manhandling, or woman-handling, invertebrates with ease. Heck, someday she might even eat one! Or not, as something oozed from the worm. She grimaced and threw the line in.

Not much breeze was passing by, but enough to keep the bugs off anyway. Who would have thought the swamp would be somewhat scenic?

“Nice little bluegill you caught.”

Claire leaped about four feet into the air. She hadn’t heard Luc come up behind her at all. “Geez, Luc, you scared the tar out of me!”

He squatted beside her, his black gaze taking in her bare shoulders and tummy. “I made extra noise to see if you’d notice me. You can’t afford to daydream out here.”

“Yes, Luc.” He was right with that one. “Did
you
catch anything?” She angled her shoulders so her breasts squished together for some cleavage. Obvious, but hey, it was the best she could do with a gray cotton bra.

He gestured at a stick leaning against a big oak tree. Several furry blobs hung from it.

“Oh. Rabbits.” She’d eaten those from her dad’s hunting trips, but they’d been cleaned and cooked for her. “They look so…sad.”

He raised an eyebrow. “They’re dead. They’re not sad anymore. Not sad like you’d be without any dinner tonight.”

Her fishing line jerked again. “Um, do you mind if I stay here and fish?” To underline her request, she pulled out another medium-sized fish and set it next to the other.

He opened his mouth in protest but she touched his arm. He was hot and hard under her touch, little black springy hairs tickling her fingertips. “Please? I know I need to learn how to…what’s the phrase for processing animals?”

“Skin and gut?”

She grimaced. “Clean and dress was what I was trying to say. I promise, I’ll do it the next time.”

He stared into her eyes, his dark gaze unreadable, and then he stared down at her hand on his arm. She jerked it away. “I’m sorry, I’m covered in fish slime again. I really need a bath.”

“I expect I’ll need one, too, after cleaning all those rabbits by myself.”

She smiled at him in relief. “Thank you, Luc.”

He shook his head. “I’m not doing you any favors this way. Being squeamish is a good way to be hungry. You can clean those fish by yourself ’cuz you’re working your way up to mammals soon.” He straightened and walked away.

“Let’s trap something that’s not cute, okay?”

He stopped, an amazed look on his face. “How’s lizard or rat sound?”

She made a sound of distress and he grinned. “Gotcha,
cher.”
Silently and with quick steps, he reached the string of rabbits and picked them up. It wasn’t until he’d disappeared into the woods that she realized he’d called her
cher
and not Claire.

Cher
meant
honey
or
sweetie
and was quite the slip of his normally guarded tongue, she mused as she baited the hook again and tossed it back. Maybe her gray bra was more powerful than she expected.

She yawned and stretched, her breasts moving up and down under the fabric. At least she’d put her shirt on when the sun went down.

“Ready for bed?” He hoped his voice didn’t sound too eager.

She shrugged. “I really wanted to wash before I go to sleep.”

He grunted, immediately disturbed by the images that conjured. “Why bother? You’ll need fresh bug spray after you finish.”

“I know, but it’s been so hot and sticky.” She rubbed the nape of her neck. “I think I’m getting prickly heat.”

Luc was, too, but not the rash kind.

“You want to check?” She lifted her ponytail of thick, dark hair and bared her nape to him.

“No, no,” he said, backpedaling. “You’ll need some water to wash with.” He brought out the larger container of purified water. “You’ll want some privacy, so I’ll leave.”

“You mean, wash right here?” She looked around nervously.

“Claire, we’re in the middle of nowhere. The only other person for miles is me.” He figured she was probably imagining local backwoodsmen spying on her through the foliage. “The fire is dying down to limit visibility and I’ll reconnoiter the perimeter.”

Her face cleared. “If that means keeping an eye out for any Peeping Toms, that sounds good.” She went to her duffel bag and collected clean clothes, a washcloth and small bottle of biodegradable soap.

Luc faded away and slipped through the trees. The insects and birds were as noisy as before, not startled by any other human presence. He sniffed the air for any other scent of bug spray or fire. As he expected, nobody was around. Still, he circled their camp slowly and stealthily to keep in practice. He hadn’t trained in swampy woodlands for a long time, being stationed in either the urban Middle East or its rocky, mountainous outposts.

His senses heightened as he went, his night vision sharpening as he smelled individual plants and picked out insect and birdsong. The vibrating rumbles of faraway gators bellowing made him smile. Just like home. His anger about being forced away from home on his leave had subsided, but something even more dangerous had replaced it: pure lust.

Why couldn’t the congressman’s daughter be married, or snooty or less attractive? Instead, Claire was single, available, sweet-natured and sexy enough to make him forget his name.

A hideous noise startled the normal sound-makers into frightened silence. Luc pulled his knife and ran toward the camp, his only thought to get to Claire. He cleared fallen logs and lurking branches with ease and made it to the darkened clearing within seconds. He dropped into a crouch at the edge to assess the situation.

Claire was standing alone, illuminated by the bluish light of the full moon. He relaxed briefly and sheathed his knife when he realized the noise was her off-key singing, but then she turned around and he saw everything he’d wanted and everything he shouldn’t.

Her hair was piled on her head as she leisurely soaped the nape of her neck, running the washcloth over her shoulders and arms. Sudsy water trickled around her plump, round breasts and down to her dark nipples. He held his breath as one soapy blob clung to the peak of her breast before plummeting to the ground below.

“Au clair de la lune,
” he murmured to himself. “By the Light of the Moon” was an ancient French folksong, and
Claire
meant
light
or
bright.

Her skin gleamed silver in the moonlight as if it held light of its own. Her belly curved into full, rounded hips guarding the dark treasure between them. He could only look at her as if she were Diana, the moon goddess come down to the woods to tempt him.

He muffled a groan as she washed her stomach and back, finally reaching between her legs. His own groin throbbed painfully in response. Without thinking, he eased open the first couple of buttons on his camo pants. He was stroking his cock when he realized what he was doing—becoming the Peeping Tom he’d promised to protect her against.

He groaned, cupping himself for a second before buttoning up with some difficulty. He’d promised Olie his word as a Green Beret that he could be trusted around Claire. Hell, he’d promised Claire she could trust him. Watching on her while he crouched in the woods playing with himself was
not
trustworthy, to say the least.

He gave her one last, longing glance and reluctantly turned his back. She continued her out-of-tune serenade as he sat in the darkness, wondering how the hell he would hold out against her charms.

“All done with the fish. We can eat them for a late lunch if you want.” She rinsed off her hands and wiped them dry on her poor abused pants. They practically stood on their own by now.

“In a few minutes. Right now I want to show you a survival kit I always carry.” He sat cross-legged on her groundsheet and pulled out a small round tin about the size of a hockey puck. “You need to make one, too, and always, always carry it on your body. In a buttoned pocket, not a purse or backpack.”

“I guess I could always stick it in my bra if I need to.”

His gaze fell to her breasts before looking away. “Whatever you need to do.” He undid the sticky tape around the circumference. “The tape keeps the container waterproof.”

“In case I fall out of a boat or something?”

He froze midgesture and slowly opened the can the rest of the way. “Yes. Boating down the main river in Río San Lucas can be dangerous.” He pulled out more things than she thought would fit in the tiny container, including waterproof matches and cotton balls soaked in petroleum jelly. She wouldn’t have thought of other items, like fishing line and hooks, needles and thread, and even a flexible saw that coiled like a thick jagged wire.

“What is that at the bottom?” She spied a square plastic packet among the wound bandages and antibiotic and painkiller pill tubes.

“Water storage device.” He made to repack the tin but she stopped him.

“It’s so tiny, how can it hold water?”

He sighed and pulled it out.

“Wait, that’s not a water storage device, that’s a condom.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “Honestly, Luc, I would think under the dire circumstances when you’d need this kit that a condom would be low on the priority list.”

Darned if he wasn’t blushing a bit under his sun-darkened skin. “Claire, we use prophylactic devices for plenty of things beside their original intent. We cover the rifle barrels with them to keep water from rusting them and we do use them for water storage. They store about a quart of water.”

“Really? I had no idea they stretched so far.” Claire grabbed the condom out of his hand. “Extra large, ribbed. Is it easier to grip the ribbed ones with wet hands?”

Ha ha, she was making him blush like a tomato. “It was the only kind they had.”

“Is that the brand you usually use? I mean for carrying water and covering the tip of your…rifle?”

“Never mind,” he growled, stuffing the packet into the tin and repacking the other items. “I figured you wouldn’t take this seriously.”

She frowned back at him. “Hey, no fair. Haven’t I done everything you asked? Haven’t I done everything you wanted?”

Luc clenched his fists. “Everything I asked,
oui
. Everything I wanted,
non
.” He dragged her into his arms and kissed her. Claire barely had enough time to give a mental cheer before being swamped by the anger, frustration and lust that rolled off him in a passionate wave.

She eagerly opened her mouth under his, his tongue immediately rubbing along hers. He nibbled on her lips as if they were the sweetest candy, biting and sucking on her as if he were starving.

Claire was starving, too, starving for the body she’d been watching surreptitiously for days. She shoved her hands under his T-shirt and moaned at his slick, hot skin. Under her caresses, he was pure muscle and bone with not an ounce of fat. She suddenly felt self-conscious about her not-so-hard body and stopped touching him.

Luc made a sound of protest and pulled her even closer, crushing her breasts against him. She took this as the go-ahead she needed and indulged herself, tracing the indentations of his ribs, the heavy muscle of his back. Her fingers found a thick ridge of skin that marred his smooth perfection.

She pulled away. “What’s that?”

“That feels very good.”

She pressed into the scar. “That.”

“Oh. Shrapnel.”

“Shrapnel?” She was about to ask him for details when he pressed kisses from her jaw down to her neck, licking and sucking at her earlobe. His hot mouth sent sensual jolts down to her nipples and even farther south. She moaned his name and wiggled against him.

He broke their kiss.
“Non
, Claire, I shouldn’t be doing this. I swore I’d be a gentleman around you, swore I’d keep my hands off you.”

So that was why he’d been so standoffish. “I’m releasing you from your promise.” She dragged his head down to hers and sucked hard on his bottom lip. He inhaled sharply but pulled away again.

“It doesn’t work that way, Claire. A man’s word is his honor.”

Time for drastic measures. “I know you’re an honorable man and you would never do anything to hurt me. That’s why I choose you for this.” She reached behind her and unsnapped her bra, dropping it on the ground. “I want you, Luc. Life is difficult. There is no dishonor in taking a bit of pleasure where we can.”

He swallowed hard at the sight of her bare breasts. “I’m so hard I could hammer in tent pegs. I can’t be leisurely or gentle, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.”

Her nipples tightened, sending jolts down between her legs. “Will you make me feel good?” She couldn’t believe she was seducing a sexy man like Luc in the middle of the day, outdoors, but she’d never wanted anything more.

“Better than you’ve ever felt before.” He wasn’t bragging, merely stating a fact.

“Then
oui,”
she whispered, eliciting a wolfish grin from him.

“I like hearing that word on your lips. You gon’ say it a lot more times before I’m done with you.” Luc stripped off his shirt, revealing what she’d only touched before. His chest was lightly covered in black hair, his coppery nipples pulled into tight disks. Several paler scars marred his skin. “Take off your pants.”

She hurriedly unlaced her boots and shoved the rest of her clothing off. An unexpected rush of shyness came over her, and she hunched, curling her arms around her bent knees. He frowned in concern, and she realized he was having second thoughts.

Before he changed his mind, she forced herself to lean on her elbows, the breeze cool on her totally bare-naked body. Outdoors, in the middle of the day, no less.

His eyes darkened with lust, and he quickly made himself as naked as she was. Oh, my. His erection was as powerful as the rest of his body. The sunlight highlighted its thick head and corded veins running its impressive length. Claire stared at him with a little bit of apprehension and a whole lot of awe.

“Bébé
, don’t keep lookin’ at me like that.” He acknowledged her gaze by growing even further, a silver drop appearing on his tip.

“Like what?” She rubbed her thighs together to try to ease her matching lust.

“Like you’re the sexiest thing ever and you can’t wait for me to fuck you.”

Heat crept up her face. “I do want you to…” She just couldn’t say it. “Do that.”

“Bon.”
He dropped to his knees beside her and cupped her cheek briefly, tracing his hand down her neck, over one breast and the curve of her hip. She dropped her knees apart and he immediately found her hidden nub.

She cried out and tipped her head back. He pushed her shoulder until she rested on the groundsheet. He stared eagerly down at her.
“Très, très belle, toi.”

She blushed at being called beautiful. Then he stroked her and she forgot all about being embarrassed. His hands were rough but gentle as they brushed her skin. He circled one nipple and the other as they peaked and grew.

His expression was rapt. “Let me taste you, sweet Claire.”

He lowered his mouth to one breast, delicately flicking it with his tongue. His fingers made similar motions on her—her…clitoris. If she was brave enough to do this, she could call her body parts what they were. She wrapped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his thick black hair.

“Oui
, that is good.” He sucked hard on her breast and slipped a finger inside her, making her cry out. His erection jerked where it rested against her hip. “Claire, Claire, I need you so bad.” He inserted a second finger, spreading them apart to stroke deep inside her. She cried out again. “You’re so hot,
cher
, wet and ready. I know you can take me now.”

“Yes, now, now.” She couldn’t believe this amount of foreplay had aroused her to such a fever pitch.

He took the condom from his kit and quickly covered himself. Kneeling between her legs, he stared down at her, pure lust and concern battling on his face.

She reached up to him. “Come to me, Luc.”

He surrendered with a groan and stretched out on top of her. His erection prodded at her, the tip finally going in. She tensed for a second and relaxed as she realized it didn’t hurt. He sensed that and quickly entered to the hilt. She gasped and he stopped. “Did I hurt you?”

She quickly shook her head. Filled her and stretched her more than she’d ever been, yes. Hurt, no. She experimentally tightened around him and he jerked inside her.

Sweat beaded on his lip. “Can’t hold still,
bébé,
gotta move.” He glided in and out of her. “You are paradise. Wrap your long legs around me.”

She did, locking her ankles in the small of his back. He groaned again and took her on a wild ride as he pistoned in and out. All Claire could do was clutch his shoulders and hold on. He felt wonderful inside her, and maybe he’d touch her more once he was done.

But to her surprise, the delicious friction of his hard member was more than wonderful. He was rubbing all the right spots, her hips moving to match his. He noticed the difference and grinned down at her. “You’re a real hot one,
cher
.” He dropped to his elbows and bit her earlobe. “I bet you can come with just my thrusting.”

She protested how impossible that was but he sucked hard on her neck. She clutched his shoulders. “Oh, Luc.” Darned if her passage didn’t tighten around him even more, and they both groaned.

“Can’t last much longer,
bébé. Baise-moi, baise-moi.”

His raw French excited her. She shook as her tension built, her head whipping back and forth. He grunted and jolted into her, pushing her halfway off the groundsheet.

Soft cries came from her throat as her heels dug into his rock-hard behind. She arched her back to take all of him as deep as he could go. Their bodies slapped wetly together, their skin sticking and releasing with every motion. She was bound more deeply to him than she’d ever been to a man.

Not wanting to miss a single second, she opened her eyes and stared at him. His face was twisted in agony. He met her gaze. “Come with me, Claire. Right now, with my cock inside you. Jus’ think of all the sex juice I got saved for you.” He angled himself so he bumped her clitoris over and over.

She gave a brief scream as he swelled inside her even more.

“That’s it—scream for me. Now I know how good your pussy feels around me, I’m not gon’ let you go.” He moved frantically. “Come, dammit, now. Now!”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed down hard on his cock. Amazingly, tremors blossomed, spreading to her sensitive nub and up her belly to her breasts, neck and face. She shook around him as he blasted her self-control to shreds. Her moans crescendoed into a scream.

Luc gave a shout of pure triumph and exploded inside her. He rocked into her supersensitized clitoris, causing a second matching explosion. His mouth fell open as he pounded into her for what felt like an eternity, his face contorted into mindless pleasure. She could only hold on through his marathon climax, marveling at his pent-up desire.

He finally came back to earth. “Ah…” He rested his forehead against her, his black hair soaked with sweat. “That was…that was…”

“Intense?” she suggested.

“Nuclear.” He gasped for air and slid partway from her. “Ah, I want to stay here all day.”

“Then do.” Claire had the delicious feeling she had only seen the tip of the iceberg when it came to Luc’s sexual prowess. “I want you to show me everything I’ve been missing.”

He eased from her, his erection still impressive despite his release. They were lucky he hadn’t broken the “water storage device.” He disposed of it into the fire. “What have you been missing, honey?”

“Sex.” The word was strange on her tongue but liberating. “I want more sex and lots of it. I never did it like this before.”

“What, outdoors?” He looked puzzled.

“No.” She blushed but continued on. “Never, um, climaxed with a man before.”

“What?” His shocked expression would have been comical if she hadn’t been serious.

She rolled on her side to face him. “It’s true. I never met anyone who made me feel like this and I want you to teach me everything you know.”

“Everything?” He ran his tongue over his lips. “I lost my virginity when I was fifteen and haven’t looked back. I’ve done things you’ve never heard of. Things that would scare a sheltered lady like you.”

“If you don’t show me, I’ll go back to Virginia and find someone who will.” She was bluffing, but he didn’t need to know that.

His eyes narrowed. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do, Luc. I’ve been living a protected life, and I mean to change that in the most intimate way possible. I want you to be my teacher.”