Hunter's Heart (7 page)

She put her hand to the back of his head, pulling him to her, then kissed him—taking up where they’d been when the old guy interrupted. It was a serious come-on-in, let’s-get-naked kiss that had him rethinking his good intentions. As the kiss went on, big and little head entered the battle for control. Little head, had him undressing her, visualizing her naked under him. The other head had him saying goodnight then fast walking to the truck. She broke the kiss.

“Alarm,” she said and hurried into the shadows. “Come in for coffee,” a breathy voice said from someplace in the dark room. “I make good coffee.”

“I should go.” He stepped inside. Little head clearly won that battle. “I can’t stay long I’ve got to be on base early.” Big head was still in the fight.

A lamp came on, bathing her in a soft light. She kicked off her shoes. “Tomorrow’s Sunday. You have to work on…? Oops, sorry I won’t pry. Sit down. Coffee will only take a few.”

“Can I help?”

“No thanks,” she said over her shoulder.

He looked around the space. When he picked her up he’d been intent on looking at her and not around at the rooms. Her furniture was nice, substantial. He wouldn’t be afraid it would break when he sat. The large combination living dining room looked like a furniture store display, neat and sterile except for the half dozen paintings on the walls.

The kitchen light went on, instantly followed with Celia’s scream.

“Fuck.” He ran full out to her, expecting to do battle with a home invader.

“Stay out.” Her hand flew up like a school crossing guard’s and he skidded to a stop.

“Flood.” She stomped a foot and water pooling around her feet splatted. “The damn pipe under the sink is leaking again.” She crouched, opening the doors of the cabinet under the sink.

“
Geezus.
From the way you screamed I thought there was a squad of assassins in here.” He crouched beside her.

“It leaked before.
Shit damn.”
Water oozed from a pipe joint. “I thought I had it fixed.”

He reached in and turned off the water. “Good you have a shut off here. Lot of places don’t.” He ran his hand along the pipes. “It’s an easy fix. Pipes are loose. If you have tools I can do it.”

She pushed to her feet. “I have tools in the garage.” As she walked away, the bottom of her now-wet dress slapped softly at her legs, mimicking the sound his groin would make slapping against her during sex.

“Fuck.”
Little head was on the attack.

“What?” She turned. “Is something else wrong?”

“Ehh. No. Banged my hand.” He shook it like he was trying to fling away pain.

Damn it. Not the way she thought the evening was going to end. She grabbed the tool box, snatched old towels from the laundry room and rushed back to the kitchen.
Holy hell
—she lost her breath and dammed near dropped everything when she found him stripping his shirt over his head.

“Oh.” It came out more like a squeak.

His body was…. It was better than…. Crap, his body was perfect. Make that pluperfect. He was all that and a bag of chips. She’d expected tattoos. There were none. There were scars. Old, new, round, long, scattered over his shoulders, biceps and carved abs. And there was chest hair. Not enough to use hedge clippers on, just the right amount for her taste. She knew it was there. When they danced at Pappy’s she’d felt it through the cotton of his shirt. Actually seeing it, seeing that line of hair going down his belly and the defined hip muscles that disappeared inside the waist of his pants.
Whew.
She tingled everyplace like she’d been dipped in a vat of tingle lotion.

He followed her gaze and looked down at his body. “Sorry, I didn’t want to mess up my shirt.”

“Okay.” Another squeak. Seeing those broad shoulders,
au naturale
, and wanting to see his narrow hips and tight ass the same way, kicked off a female evolutionary checklist for the perfect partner. Broad shoulders and strong arms for protection. Check. Hips and tight ass for strong thrusts during sex. Check.

He stuck out his hand. “Let’s see what you have.”

“Have?”
Lord, her mind wasn’t comprehending anything that didn’t involve the possible transfer of body fluids.

“Tools.” He gave her an odd look then took the black plastic box and put it on the counter. He rummaged through, finally holding up a huge screwdriver and ball peen hammer.

“This should do it.”

“No.” She almost yelled it.
Gawd.
He had no idea what he was doing.

“Just kidding.
Guppy.
” He replaced the screwdriver and hammer with a couple of wrenches and a roll of plumber’s tape. “These will do. Hand them to me when I ask.” She nodded. “Those towels for me to use?”

“Towels?”

“The towels in your hand.”

She nodded again but made no move to hand them over. He took the towels and arranged them on the floor in front of the cabinet then he dropped and went to his back. Her mind went a little wonky seeing his muscles move and flex as he scooted side to side to get his torso inside the cabinet.

“Oh, you’re still going to get wet.” She should have mopped up the water first.

“I’ll dry.”

“Yes, but you don’t….” She couldn’t finish. For her viewing pleasure, his pants moved low on his hips.

“Wrench.” A big hand extended from the cabinet. She crouched and slapped the required tool in his hand like they were in surgery.

“You have a flashlight in there?”

She opened a drawer and held out the small light.

“You hold it.” He tapped a spot on the pipe. “Shine it here. Don’t know why builders don’t put a fucking light under here. Sure as hell would make it easier for amateur plumbers.”

To get the beam where he wanted she had to lean over his body. With each move his chest and belly muscles rippled and his tangy scent grew stronger. The floor wasn’t the only thing wet.

“Tape.”

She freed the edge of the white tape and handed the reel over.

“Hold the light steady.” He clamped onto her wrist pulling her to position the beam where he needed it. Her feet lost traction and she plopped onto him. He raised his head and his mouth curled into a smile. “You okay?”

She shook her head but said, “Yes.”

He looped the tape around the pipe several times then turned the water on and slid his hands over the joint. “Looks good.”

It wasn’t until he began shimmying out of the space, she realized she was still on him. Before her brain could message her body to move, Hunter had his arms around her, adjusting her body to fit against him as he moved. Her thigh fell between his legs and there was no missing the bulge—either that or he’d slipped one of her wrenches in his pants. His eyes moved over her like a caress and the muscles low in her belly clenched.

“Thank you for doing that,” she said, stifling a smile, not sure what part of all that she was thanking him for.

“I should go.” He said it with resolve but made no attempt to move.

Silence lingered, giving rise to her confusion. That hard bulge said his body was as aroused as hers. Yet, he was ready to leave. She didn’t want to seem desperate for sex but damn it
she was
. And what about waiting to hit the sheets? Fuck waiting. This could be her one and only chance with him. “Please don’t go.”

“I don’t want to.” His hand went to the middle of her back, holding tight. “I also don’t want to screw this up.”

Her hand traced the ridge in his pants. “You want me.” She grasped his hand, guiding it under the wet cloth of her dress to the warm dampness between her legs. “I want you.”

As his fingers rubbed the thin strip of silk between her legs, he made a rumbling, animalistic sound she took as distinct pleasure. “The only way
this
could be screwed up is if you left.”

He pulled her completely onto his body and kissed her. A hot hungry kiss that lasted a long time. She dug her fingers into his shoulders. He dropped back with a
splat
. His lips curled into a smile against hers.

“Kinda forgot where I was.” He laughed and before she knew what was happening he was on his feet with her in his arms. Holding her so she got the full effect of his hard chest and abs
—all
the hard parts of his body—kissing with hungry open-mouthed kisses.

He broke the kiss, stared at her a moment, his hazel eyes intent, then grinned. “You kiss me like that again and we’re not going to make it out of this kitchen.”

For the first time since she’d met him, his voice wasn’t deadly calm.

“I don’t want to. I want you, here. Now.”
What had gotten into her talking like this?

Short and only answer—
lust.

His mouth and tongue traveled from her ear down, stopping to press against the pulse in her neck as his talented fingers plucked at the tips of her nipples, ratcheting that lust into a zone it had never been before. She squirmed from the pleasure, arching the hard points of her nipples against his hands. She hated she wasn’t naked but grateful the cloth of her bra and dress was thin.

“Celia.” He raised his head and stroked her cheek with the back of his warm fingers. His slightly glazed eyes searched her face. “Sure? I can stop now, but….” He sucked in a breath. “Once we….”

She cupped his face, threading her fingers through his beard and gave him a soul-searing kiss meant to erase any thoughts he had that she wasn’t ready. Apparently it worked. His mouth possessed hers, kissing with fierce power and pure need as he easily hoisted her to the counter. A wave of lust washed over her as a large strong hand glided over her thigh, pushing the wet fabric of the dress to her waist. His long fingers found their way between her legs to stroke and tease her center, igniting every particle of her being. She grasped his shoulders and arched back, banging her head on the cabinet as he sucked a nipple through her dress. While his mouth and hands continued their exploration, her trembling legs circled his hips and she locked her ankles.

“Oh.” Was all she could manage when he moved aside the cloth of her panties. She bumped her hips to meet his hand. His fingers brushed her clit then slipped inside and her body went on autopilot, headed to sexland. He pulled away from her, breathing hard.

“Any objection to me getting rid of these panties?”

“No,” she heard someone say.

One hard tug and the cloth was a goner. The pad of his thumb circled her clit while his fingers worked rhythmically inside her. She closed her eyes, canted her hips, meeting his moves, enjoying the first class pleasure ride until….

“Oh gawd, I’m going to….” And his hand was gone.

“Please.” She grappled with his arm trying to get his warm hand back where it belonged. “Don’t stop.”

“Okay.” He went back to what he’d been doing. “But you’ll have to unwrap your legs and reach into my back pocket for my wallet,” he said between short kisses.

Her eyes flew open. “What?”

“Wallet. Condom.” He sucked on her earlobe and pressed another finger inside. “I’ve been told not to stop what I’m doing.” His hot breath tickled her ear. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

Her hands went around his narrow hips, over his tight ass and had his wallet out in seconds.

“Undo my pants.”

She did and before they hit the floor she was going through his wallet looking for a crinkly package. She held up the gold package with black lettering.

“You put it on,” he said when she tried to hand him the condom. “I want to keep doing this.” His fingers fluttered. “To make you hotter and wetter for me.”

She did a fine imitation of a rock. “I know how they go on but, I’ve never done that before,” she said, deciding honesty was the best policy here. She didn’t want to do something that would cut off the circulation.

He gave her a look so hot it’s a wonder her clothes didn’t start smoking. “Open the package.”

She did. “Put it on the tip and….” He heaved in a breath and let it out. “Smooth it down over me.”

She pressed the latex down, her fingers slowly gliding over the length, savoring his feel. She had never been this aroused in her life and shook so hard her hand slipped off his impressive erection twice.

“On.”

“I know. That wasn’t so hard was it?”

She caressed his length and sighed. “Feels hard to me.”

Hunter made a low growl. His hands moved under her thighs—lifting, bringing her ass closer to the edge of the counter. “Guide me in,” he rasped in her ear. Her fingers circled his base and mercy,
he was big
. Considerably larger than the men in her previous encounters.

She positioned his tip and when it met the heat and moisture of her opening, they both let out a sound. She expected him to make a hard, fast thrust. Instead, he barely entered then stopped, holding himself there, his body quivering. She didn’t understand and adjusted her hips to take more of him in. He held her firmly in place then pushed in farther, stopping again and she understood. He was letting her adjust to him. “Please, I want all of you.”

In one thrust he pushed in to his root.

Her pulse skipped and she drew in her breath in a half-stifled gasp. He jerked back and she dug her fingers into the curved muscles of his shoulders and tightened her legs around him to prevent him from withdrawing completely. She pressed her lips to the side on his neck.