Jamie (20 page)

“Who's racing?” Her laugh sounded maniacal, and she winced. “I just thought we should get this show on the road.” Oh God. How dumb was that?

Stopping at the base of the ladder, her back to Jamie, Faith slapped both hands to her cheeks. She had to quit behaving like a sex-starved nympho. But for the first time in her life, she
felt
like a sex-starved nympho.

After all, this was Jamie, not any other man.

Standing close behind her, Jamie squeezed her waist. “Up you go.” His warm breath drifted over the side of her neck, sending a shiver down her back.

Only then did it occur to Faith that she was bare-assed and about to climb a ladder in front of him. Hoy. Not a good visual. “Um, why don't you go first? ”

“Because then I'd miss the show.”

So he'd stripped her pants away on purpose?

“Yes. Jamie ran his hand down her waist to her hip. ”The fewer clothes you wear, the more I like it.

“Oh.”

He nipped her earlobe. “Now
I'm
getting impatient.” He patted her butt. “Start climbing.”

Faith nodded, put a shaking hand on the closest rung. “Right. Okay.” Five steps up, she felt Jamie's hand slip beneath the shirt and settle on her naked bottom. She stopped dead in her tracks.

Voice trembling, she whispered,
“Jamie . . .
”

He moved up closer to her until his face was even with her behind. Through the shirt, his lips nuzzled against her. He held the ladder with one hand near her breasts, while the other hand curved over her belly, stroked twice, then pressed between her legs.

With a gasp, Faith locked her hands around the rungs and prayed she wouldn't fall. Why in the world would he want to do this here, when they'd left a perfectly good couch, and they could reach a bed in only a few more steps?

Fingers gently prodding, Jamie said, “I wanted to see if you're wet.” He stroked along her cleft, searching through her curls, then slipped his finger inside her. Not far, just enough to tease. With satisfaction, he murmured, “And you are.”

Faith knew she couldn't take it. She started to move.

“No,” Jamie said. “Just let me touch you.”

Her vision went hazy. “I . . . I can't do this.”

Jamie took another step up, bracing his body against hers. “I won't let you fall.” The promise ended on a growl as he pushed his finger deep, testing her, withdrew a little, only to slowly work it in again. “Jesus, you're tight.”

Faith locked her knees, closed her eyes, and absorbed the astounding sensations. Her breath came out in a rush, then sucked in hard and fast when he pulled his finger out to touch her stiffened clitoris.

“I'd forgotten”—Jamie whispered as he played with her, rolling that one long finger over the tip of her, making her quiver—“just how fascinating a woman's body is. I thought about it, fantasized, but the reality is so much better.”

Amazingly enough, Faith felt the building of a climax.

And Jamie pulled back. “Not yet. I want to be inside you when you come. I want to feel you squeezing my cock.” He lightly bit her. “Climb.”

Faith wanted to sob, to yell at him for being a dominating jerk, and she wanted to rush up the ladder and beg him to hurry. With all the grace of a robot, she went further up the ladder.

“I bought you some clothes in town today.”

Void of any intimacy, Jamie's remark felt like a weather report, shaming Faith with his control, considering she had none. Not with him. “Thank you. ”

She reached the top of the ladder and gained the landing to the bedroom.

“I'm not sure I'm going to let you wear any of them, though.”

It figured that after all his infuriating silence, he'd want to start conversing now, when she could barely form words. Keeping her face turned away, her eyes closed, Faith waited for him.

Jamie pulled himself up in front of her. She could feel him standing there, knew he was looking at her. The seconds passed; her tension rose until she practically hummed with it. Then he brought her chin around so that she faced him. “So this is how I keep you from being so chatty?”

“I'm sor—”

His mouth settled over hers, stealing the apology, and this time he went in for a deep, wet, tongue-twining kiss that had her groaning and clinging to him. His big hands settled on her bottom, but over the shirt so that he didn't touch bare skin. His grip was firm, lifting her to her tiptoes, holding her tight to him, so tight that she could barely move, could only rub against him in an effort to make him hurry.

The thick ridge beneath his fly pressed flush to her mound, and Faith's knees went weak. She felt him throbbing, but still he only kissed her. Never in her life had she been kissed with so much hunger or so much patience. Jamie seemed fascinated with the taste of her, his tongue stroking hers, tracing her teeth, drawing her tongue into his mouth.

Faith parted her legs a little, writhed against him, stroking herself along the length of his erection. With two big steps, Jamie backed her up to the wall and levered himself snug between her thighs, keeping her still as he fed on her mouth.

Their hot breaths mingled, coming hard and fast. Their combined body heat warmed the air around them. But Jamie only kissed her, and Faith wanted to scream with frustration. She bit his bottom lip and got a hoarse groan in return. His silky hair drew her hands and she tried to pull him away to free her mouth, but he didn't budge. A hot haze settled around her, crackling with sexual urgency. Tears again stung her eyes, tears of overwhelming need. She hadn't known that carnal need could be so strong.

She hadn't known that mere kissing could have her on the verge of a climax.

The realization came to her, and in the next second Jamie caught her waist, lifting her up and turning to lay her on the bed.

Stunned, Faith pushed up to her elbows. She started to speak, to ask Jamie why he seemed determined to drive her insane with lust. But the sight of him busily undoing his jeans stole her voice.

Breathing hard, his hands shaking, Jamie eased the zipper over a thrusting erection and shoved his jeans off in record time. Faith had only a glimpse of his incredible body, of dark, silky hair and sculpted muscles, before the bed dipped and he knelt astride her thighs. He grabbed the hem of her shirt, jerked it up and over her head, then settled back to look her over from her flushed breasts to her moist sex.

“You are so beautiful,” he breathed.

Doing her own fascinated study, Faith clutched his hard, hairy thighs and moaned at the sight of his flat, washboard abdomen and the sexy line of hair leading from his navel down to his penis, which was now long and thick, pulsing with life.

She wanted to touch him, but Jamie quickly removed her hands and pinned them above her head. That position lowered him over her breasts, and before she could even assimilate his intent, his mouth closed hungrily over one nipple and he began sucking.

“Oh God.” Faith squeezed her eyes shut as her control shattered.

With single-minded intent, Jamie held her immobile while he drew on her, teasing with his tongue, nibbling with his teeth, then sucking hard again, stopping only to switch to her other breast. Transferring both her wrists to one hand, he used his free hand to tease the wet nipple he'd just released. The dual assault made the pleasure so acute that Faith fought him, struggling to free herself, digging her heels into the mattress.

Jamie rose up to look at her, his chest laboring, his eyes burning. “You want me.” He continued to knead her breast, shaping her, tormenting her nipple with instinctive touches that sent small tremors though her body. “You like what I'm doing.”

“I like it too much.”

She spoke the truth, and Jamie knew it.

Calculating, watching her closely, he caught her nipple and lightly tugged. Her back arched. “Once I get inside you, Faith, I won't last. It's been too fucking long. Damn near a decade.”

Faith's heart expanded. So he had been celibate all that time. “Closer to nine years,” she whispered, then bit her lip, stunned that such a telling thing had left her mouth.

But Jamie was too far gone to notice or care about the significance of the exact time frame. He left her breast to stroke up and down her body, his hand open, fingers spread wide to feel as much of her skin as he could. He traced her ribs, touched a fingertip to her navel, fondled the tops of her thighs.

He stared at her belly as he wedged his hand between her legs, cupping over her mound, the heat of his hand driving her that much closer to the end. “I want to take you in so many ways, Faith. I want to eat you until you come.”

Faith twisted beneath him, almost feeling his tongue on her, in her.

Connected to her so that her thoughts became his, Jamie said, “Yeah,” in a near-soundless whisper. “And I want to feel your mouth on me, too, taking me deep. Sucking.” He went still, a great shudder rocking his body. “Jesus.”

“Let me go,” Faith urged him, “and I can do it right now.”

His eyes opened and met hers. His hand tightened on her wrists, almost hurting before he caught himself and released her.

But not to let her pleasure him.

Roughly readjusting, Jamie moved between her thighs to spread her legs wide with his knees. He stroked his fingertips over her, searching, then opening her to wedge the head of his erection against her wet vulva. With a low groan, he stared at where they touched, holding her legs wider still with his hands.

“Jamie . . .” More than anything, Faith needed him to come inside her, to fill her up.

He hooked his elbows through her knees and leaned forward. Faith was open and vulnerable, completely exposed. She knotted her hands in the sheets, anchoring herself as Jamie lowered over her, his chest against her breasts, his heartbeat matching the frantic rhythm of her own.

He watched her face as he pressed in, his shoulders bunched, his biceps flexing.

Faith wanted him, but this was new to her and she couldn't help but be a bit nervous. Her widespread thighs left her no way to resist him, no way to adjust as the pressure built. Her body had no choice but to accept him, and little by little she felt him sinking deeper, each slow push driving him forward and at the same time exacerbating sensitized, swollen nerve endings.

The burning intrusion excited her more, heightening her pleasure, and at the same time, frightened her.

“No,” Jamie groaned, his whole body trembling as he restrained himself. “Don't be afraid of me, Faith. Just relax. Let me in.”

Faith didn't want him to hold back. To let him know it was okay, that she would gladly give him anything, she opened her mouth on his shoulder and gave him a soft love bite.

Jamie froze, gasping, his eyes closed and his brows down in a private struggle. Suddenly he broke, clamping her tight to him and filling her with one savage thrust. The breath rushed out of Faith, and before she could draw another, he was driving fast, groaning long and low, and she knew he was ready to come. Her thighs strained against the unfamiliar hold and the tantalizing friction as with each glide and retreat, he rasped against her clitoris, filled her—touched deep.

Faith cried out as an orgasm crashed through her.

Jamie lifted his head, and she knew he watched her, knew he absorbed her feelings into himself. But it didn't matter. She couldn't think beyond the incredible pleasure, could focus on nothing but the intense satisfaction that gradually sparked and ebbed like a dying fire before fading away, leaving her throbbing and limp.

Realizing that Jamie still moved in her, Faith lifted heavy eyelids and saw him staring at her through barely opened eyes, fierce with concentration. She lightly touched his clenched jaw, and with a hoarse, feral growl, he came, too. His head went back, chest and shoulder muscles straining as he pressed deep, deep into her.

He collapsed to his forearms, and his head dropped forward beside hers. Sweat dampened his shoulders and chest. He labored for breath.

Faith wallowed in the wonderful moment of fulfillment. Her legs remained in the awkward position, and though she knew he'd already come, Jamie still filled her. She'd dreamed of this, of being with him, and now the dream was a reality. She tangled her fingers in his dark hair, stroked his neck, squeezed his biceps, placed her hand over his pounding heart.

She wanted a lifetime of touching him. She wanted everything.

Eventually Jamie's breathing evened out, his skin cooled, and by small degrees, he left her. Faith felt the trickle of his semen, but she didn't care. There wasn't anything she could do about it anyway, not with the restrictive way Jamie held her.

She barely formed the thought before Jamie's right shoulder knotted, and with sluggish effort, he freed first her left leg, then her right. Her bruised thigh throbbed with discomfort, and seldom-used muscles ached as Faith started to straighten her legs. But Jamie remained between her thighs, and he didn't seem to be in any hurry to move away from her. She gave up and curled her legs around him instead, trying to draw him back to her. She wanted Jamie as close as he could be, heartbeat to heartbeat, skin touching everywhere.

Jamie resisted, then propped himself on his elbows and looked down at her.

And Faith, seeing the inferno of heat still in his eyes, had a hunch that the fantasy wasn't even close to being over.

“No,” Jamie assured her, bending to take her mouth. “Not yet.”

Chapter Eleven

Their breakfast together hadn't afforded them a single moment of privacy, and now Alyx looked forward to getting Scott alone. Unfortunately, instead of turning toward his street, he continued down an old gravel side road. “Aren't we going to your place?”

“Not yet.”

Alyx frowned at him. She wanted to burst with the anticipation of moving in with him, but Scott seemed a little grim. Was he already regretting the offer? Her hands curled into fists. If so, tough. She needed special time with him to make him see they were compatible. She'd hold him to the deal whether he had regrets or not.

“So where are we headed?”

He glanced at her, then back to the road. “I need to have a little talk with Knute first.”

Surprised, Alyx drew back in her seat. “Lamar Knute? That smarmy little guy who keeps his place like a dump?”

“You know him?”

Oops. Alyx made a show of checking her nails. “Yeah, I've seen him around.”

“Then you've probably seen him drunk.”

Avoid eye contact ...
“Seems to be the norm for him.”

The flexing of Scott's hands on the steering wheel gave away his tension. He brought his brows down in a frown and let out a long breath. “God, it's been a crazy couple of days.”

She hoped their plans to live together didn't figure into the “crazy” part. Fishing for a clue to his thoughts, Alyx asked, “Has the rain caused a lot of problems?”

“That didn't help. But there's been some strange stuff going on, too.”

Alyx tucked in her chin. Had he seen that blond bimbo again? “What do you mean? What strange stuff?”

Scott's mouth flattened in disgust. “One of the local kids, a real pain in the ass, got jumped the other day. He wasn't robbed, just beat up.”

Not the blond bimbo. But Alyx couldn't quite relax. Surely, Scott wasn't suggesting ... “You think
Knute
beat him up?”

“That's not what I'm saying at all.” Scott sent her a chiding frown. “I wouldn't put it past Knute to be drunk enough, and dumb enough to take Kyle on. But if he did, Kyle would make mincemeat out of him.”

“So then ... why are we going to see Knute? I'm not following you.”

“I'm
going to see Knute. You're going to wait in the car. But since Knute's house isn't that far from my place, I figured I'd pick you up first to save some time, rather than backtracking.”

He looked at Alyx, apparently waiting for her agreement, which she gave. “I'm glad you came by. I've missed you.”

A funny expression replaced the frown. “You saw me this morning.”

Trailing a finger over Scott's muscular biceps, Alyx said, “But I didn't get to touch you.” She walked her fingers up to his shoulder, then to the warm, bare skin of his tanned throat. As always, touching Scott thrilled her, and her voice lowered to a husky whisper. “I didn't get to kiss you. I didn't get to—”

Scott caught her hand, brought it to his mouth for a quick kiss, and returned it to her lap. “Take it easy, babe. I still have work to do, and I can do it better without a boner.”

Alyx laughed, delighted to have that effect on him. “Once we're living together, I'll be able to have my way with you every night, and that'll surely make it easier to behave during the day.”

For only a second, Scott appeared almost pained. But before Alyx could be sure, the look was gone.

“So,” Alyx said with false brightness, “what's the connection between Knute and Kyle?”

Her question brought his frown right back. “Some kids told me Knute's been mistreating his dog.”

A rush of anger straightened Alyx's shoulders. “So are you going to shoot him?”

Scott eyed her with astonishment. “Why the hell would I shoot the dog?”

“Not the dog.” Lifting her chin, Alyx said, “I meant good old Knute.”

Scott half laughed and shook his head at her. “You are such a bloodthirsty woman.”

“Well, you know he deserves it.”

“Maybe.”

“Somebody really ought to—”

“Yeah, well, hold that thought, okay?” Scott patted her thigh, acting more like his old, sweet self. “The dog is safe now. Seems someone took him from Knute and dropped him off with a neighbor known for loving animals.”

Alyx barely hid her smile. “Good plan, huh?”

“I thought so. But the thing is, the people who have the dog know he belongs to Knute. They want me to make sure that Knute doesn't try to reclaim him.”

Alyx snorted. “Like you'd let that happen.”

Pleased by her faith in him, Scott said, “I'm not planning on it, no. Actually, I went by to see the dog, and unless Knute can come up with a good enough excuse for why the dog was so damn skinny and neglected, I might even drop a hefty fine on him.”

“I still think you should shoot him.” And since Alyx was only half kidding, she suggested, “Maybe just in the foot?”

Scott laughed. “All I'm going to do today is talk to Knute. And while I do that, you're going to sit in the cruiser and keep quiet.”

Alyx's spine stiffened, and she arched a brow. “I am, am I?”

In a heartbeat, her humorous boyfriend disappeared beneath the rigid demeanor of the town deputy. “I mean it, Alyx. You will keep your thoughts to yourself. You will behave. You will—”

“Become deaf, dumb, and mute?” Folding her arms under her breasts and lifting her nose into the air, Alyx huffed. “Fine. I'm not even here. You can forget all about me, Deputy Royal.”

That had Scott rolling his eyes. “Right. As if anyone, especially anyone male, could ever ignore you. ”

Now, that was more like it.

Scott squeezed her knee. “Just let me do my job, honey, okay?” And then, by way of a threat, he added, “Otherwise, I won't be able to let you ride along anymore.”

Meaning she'd see him less often, and Alyx didn't want that. She promptly crossed her heart. “Okay, I'll be a nice, quiet civilian.” And to loosen him up again, she added, “But at least explain to me what Knute losing his dog has to do with Kyle.”

Scott seemed suspicious over her quick agreement, but he let it go. “Maybe nothing. Kyle's a real pain in the ass, always has been. I've had trouble with him for years now, so I wasn't surprised when one of the moms called to complain that he'd been picking on a couple of the younger boys. Again.”

“He picks on kids younger than him?” Alyx shook her head. “Wow. What a jerk.”

“No question. The thing is, when I went to see Kyle, he was the one beat up. He answered the door all bent over like an old man. Had a big bruise on his chin, and he'd been icing his ...” Scott faltered.

“His what?”

After clearing his throat, Scott shrugged. “Let's just say he took a shot to a sore spot.”

“Ah, I see. Well, that sort of sounds like a female move, doesn't it?” She kept her voice cavalier. “Maybe one of the moms decided to teach him a lesson.”

Scott grinned at her. “Trust me, no woman did that to Kyle.”

Alyx bit her tongue to keep quiet.

“Here's the real kicker though.” The grin slipped away. “Kyle claims he got jumped from behind—and that the guy who attacked him was wearing a mask.”

“You don't say?”

“I'm dead serious. A mask. Can you believe that?”

Yep, she believed it. “Kyle's probably making it up just because he got his tail whipped.”

“I don't think so. Kyle was pretty convincing. And that means that in a matter of days, I have a mistreated dog rescued and a bully laid low.”

“And you think one has something to do with the other?” Alyx couldn't hide her surprise—or her pride. Scott amazed her. He was such a good law official.

“I want to hear what Knute has to say.”

Fascinated by Scott's deductive mind, Alyx asked with casual interest, “So ... do you have any suspects?”

“I'm chewing over some ideas, yeah. But I'm not going to mention any names without proof.” Scott pulled the cruiser into Knute's gravel drive and killed the engine. Knute's ten acres spread out before them, mostly weeds, except for the bare muddy spots in front of the dilapidated house.

Alyx sighed. “It's such a shame how alcohol can ruin a man's life.” Scott suddenly turned to her, staring at her for so long that nervousness crawled along her spine and set the fine hairs on her nape at attention. “What?” she snapped.

With stern emphasis, Scott said, “You'll stay right here, in the car, and wait for me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Relaxing again, Alyx waved him off. “Heard you the first three times you said it.”

Scott caught the back of her neck and brought her face up to his. Alyx just knew he was going to start lecturing, laying it on thick about wanting to protect her, wanting to keep her safe.

She braced herself, and instead Scott kissed the tip of her nose and smiled. “Damn, Alyx, I can't resist you when you pout.” His thumb rubbed her bottom lip. “Actually, I can't ever resist you.”

Scott shook his head, apparently bemused over his own statement, then he opened his door and left the car.

Speechless, Alyx watched him settle his hat on his head, roll his shoulders, and start toward Knute's front door.

Staring after him, Alyx realized that she probably should have been indignant. After all, Scott had just accused her of pouting when she would never do anything so wimpy or girlie. Pouting was for passive-aggressive women, not her.

She was more of a kick-butt, take-charge type of woman.

But Scott had also said he couldn't resist her, and that was a good thing. The way he'd touched her, the suggestive tone he'd used ... Well, she was a little turned on, just as Scott no doubt intended. He'd probably thought it was a good way to get her to comply with his wishes.

And really, she didn't even care.

Distracted with thoughts of Alyx and her unsatisfying plan to move in with him, Scott almost missed seeing Lamar Knute come slinking out of his side door to hobble forward in greeting. Strange, considering Knute usually spent all the daylight hours sleeping off a hangover from the drinking binge of the night before. Scott had expected to either wake him up or not find him at home.

Lamar did look hungover, with his hair dirty and hanging in his face, his slack jaw bristled with a scraggly growth of whiskers, and his slept-in, sweat-and-alcohol-stained clothes. Why Lamar would be up and about now, when he obviously wasn't alert, left Scott wondering what he might have interrupted.

As Lamar made his way forward, Scott took in his limping gait, then his ramshackle house with the front door still closed tight.

Maybe Lamar had something inside that he wanted to hide. Scott decided to check into that—discreetly, of course. It was always best to take Lamar by surprise.

“Deputy.” Knute's speech was slurred as usual, but he didn't exactly seem drunk. “What're you doin' here?”

Scott crossed his arms and surveyed the shorter man. Knute held his ribs while favoring one hip. “What happened to your dog, Knute?”

He looked confused, chuckled once, then frowned. “You're here about Badger?”

“That's right.” What had Lamar expected?

Slapping his knee, Lamar started chuckling and then couldn't seem to stop.

Scott glanced back to make sure Alyx remained in the car. He didn't trust her to control herself around a jackass like Lamar Knute. Outwardly, Alyx had perfected the part of a hard-nosed independent, but inside, she harbored a soft heart filled with the burning need to protect anyone or anything she thought mistreated. That included animals of all kinds.

It was something they had in common.

At that moment, Alyx had her head hanging out the window, glaring at Knute. She wore an intimidating frown and appeared ready to launch an attack if provoked. Scott gave her a warning look, then turned back to Knute.

“That's enough, Lamar.”

“Right.” He chuckled again, but started winding down. An odd odor came from his clothes.

Scott's suspicions solidified. “Care to share the joke?”

“Sure. Why not?” Knute grinned up at Scott, and said with a flourish, “Badger was stolen. That's right. Swiped right out from under my nose. You see, some crazy fool in a black mask came and took him. ”

Scott nearly gave voice to the groan burning up his throat. At the last second, he swallowed it back and managed to keep his facade of icy professionalism in place. No reason to let Lamar know how the news troubled him.