Talk Me Down (8 page)

“No, there was nothing up there. The trail’s dry and it didn’t start snowing until we were making our way down. You’re absolutely sure you saw someone? You weren’t dreaming?”

“I was awake. I’d just gone to the bathroom.”

“Wearing what?” His eyes made a quick journey down to her slippers and back up.

She shook her head, not understanding.

“The King mine is less than a mile up. I checked it yesterday—the gate lock was broken and there were beer cans around. If teenagers have been hanging around there…” He shrugged and ran an impatient hand through his hair, dissolving the snowflakes. “I’ll go check the mine again tomorrow. It was probably some kid coming down from there and he saw you walking around in your underwear and stopped to watch.”

Molly started to deny it—surely it had been more threatening than that—but then she paused. Could it be that simple? A horny teenager drunk on a six-pack of cheap beer? She headed back toward the kitchen, aware of Ben following close behind.

“Unless,” he continued, the tone of his voice dropping to a slight warning, “there’s something you should tell me. Some reason you think someone would be watching you.”

Since she’d tracked Cameron down, it was easy to shake her head. “No. It just felt so menacing. Do you really think it could have been accidental?”

“Were you in your underwear?”

“I was wearing a shirt!”

“
That
shirt?”

She glanced down to the neckline of her white tank peeking above the silk robe. “Yeah.”

“I would’ve stopped to look at that when I was seventeen, too.”

“Yeah, right. You would’ve spied on a girl through her bedroom windows in the middle of the night.”

“He wasn’t exactly climbing on hedges to peep through the curtains. Close your damn drapes, all right?”

“Fine,” Molly snapped and slammed down her juice glass so hard that the last bit of wine sloshed out. “I just like to see the view when I wake up. I shouldn’t have to worry about creeps wandering around on the trail at three in the morning!”

“Molly…”

When he pulled her into a tight hug, she realized she’d started crying, which really pissed her off. But he felt so good that she let him hold her, and the anger slowly eased away. “I’m okay, Ben,” she insisted, pressing her face into the warm space between his chest and his jacket. She breathed in the scent of his skin and the dark leather of his coat. He smelled just like a man should, strong and clean.

She sniffled on another tear and heard him sigh.

“Frank went back to the station to fill out the reports. I’ll take another look in the morning, I promise.”

“I saw someone,” she repeated, and felt his chin slide against her hair as he nodded.

“I know. Come on, I’ll tuck you in if you think you can sleep.”

Yowza!
Was he kidding? Molly made very sure that her voice didn’t hold a hint of excitement. “I suppose I could try,” she said in a tiny, hopeless whisper.

“It’s only 4:00 a.m.” His big hand was on her waist again, curving over the top of her hip as he turned her and guided her toward the stairs. “You should try to sleep.”

“If you think so, Ben.”
Yes, take care of me, you big, strong hunk.
How far would he go to help her sleep, exactly? Now that any sign of true danger had passed, she’d regressed to her normal state of mind when Ben was near: abject horniness. But he didn’t have to know that. Yet.

She swayed her hips as she ascended the stairs. Surely he couldn’t help but notice. Her robe only came to midthigh. Maybe he could even see her panties.

But he was all business when they reached the door of her room. He brushed past her to close all the blinds tightly, then drew the curtains, too. “It’s freezing in here. Why don’t you fire up the woodstove?”

“Umm…because I’m not
exactly
sure which way the handle goes?”

“What handle?”

“The one that opens the flue. I don’t know which way is open and which is closed.”

Ben popped open the cast-iron door and stuck his hand in. “Well, there’s cold air gusting in, so I’d guess it’s open right now.”

“Oh.” She waited for him to say something sarcastic, but he just set about pulling wood from the big basket and stacking it inside the stove. She took the opportunity to ease the phone back onto the hook. Hopefully Cameron had gone back to sleep by now.

Ben had a big fire blazing within seconds, which was a helpful, if annoying, skill. Molly was sure it would’ve taken her a good half hour.

Before the warmth could gather and migrate over to her side of the room, she slipped off her robe. No point in wasting a good set of erect nipples when she had them.

Ben stood, dusting his hands, but he froze mid-motion when he saw her, gaze locked on her breasts. “I might’ve been willing to climb a hedge or two,” he muttered. She noticed how rumpled he was then; the gray T-shirt he wore under his coat was wrinkled and not tucked in. His hair stuck up a little in back. He looked like a man who needed to get back to bed.

Heat from the stove began to creep closer and Molly shivered in response. His eyelids dropped to a sleepy, dangerous look. Encouraged, she started to move seductively toward him, but her bunny slippers slapped the floor and he blinked from his trance.

Muttering curses, she kicked the things under the bed.
Sexy and fun, my ass.

“I’ll let you know what I find in the morning,” Ben said in a fast, too-loud voice as he edged toward the door.

“Thanks, Ben, but…”

He paused, one hand clutching the door frame.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s dumb, but…Could you…?” She scooted up onto the high bed and pointed her toes toward the floor. “Could you check under the bed before you go?”

His gaze moved to the space beneath her toes before it climbed slowly back up to her feet, then her legs, and finally paused on the fingers she’d spread wide over her bare thighs. “Sure.”

“Thanks.” She pulled her feet up to the mattress and tucked them under her so she could lean slightly forward. Ben approached warily, moving in a careful, fluid motion as he knelt down and ducked his head.

“Nothing under here but some slippers and, hmm, three socks and a shirt.”

Molly rocked forward on her hands and knees to watch. “Thank you.”

He straightened and said, “No problem,” but his body stuttered as he rose from his crouch.

Smiling up at him, she stayed on her hands and knees, confident that her gaping tank top would keep him still for a moment. Or maybe her hot-pink boy briefs. “Do you make it a habit to tuck your citizens in after a frightening incident? It’s very sweet.”

“Huh-uh.”

“Well, thank you for taking care of
me.
” She wiggled her ass a little and watched his eyes darken to melted chocolate in response. “I’m sorry I dragged you out of bed in the middle of the night.”

“It’s my job.” His gaze trailed liquid heat over her hips and up her spine, then back down again. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, and Molly’s belly echoed the pulse of that tension as she pushed up to her knees. She inched closer, her mouth almost even with his.

“You’re not on duty,” she reminded him as she eased her palms up to slide them beneath his coat. His chest rose in a deep breath as she pushed the coat off his shoulders and let it slide down his arms with a little whoosh. “And I’m not sleepy.”

“Molly…”

Hot power licked through her as his breath came harder. Her breasts brushed his chest, and fire shot down her nerves, straight to her clit. God, she wanted this. Wanted him panting, unable to fight his need, all his logic swirling away like so many falling snowflakes.

Smoothing her palms down his T-shirt, she marveled at the impossible strength beneath the warm cotton. Greed swept through her, tangled with sharp lust. When her fingers reached the hem of his shirt, she didn’t bother with subtleties, she simply pushed it high and tugged it off his head. Ben helped her by raising his arms, but he still didn’t reach out to offer more.

Not that Molly cared. His bare chest was spread before her like a banquet of hot skin. And, God, he looked delicious. Just like she’d always pictured him. Tanned, muscled shoulders and big arms. A dusting of brown hair that led the way to his flat belly. The top button of his faded jeans was undone, likely due to his haste to get here, and they perched insecurely on his tight hips.

Hungry, starving, she licked her lips and squeezed her thighs tight against the hard pulse that pushed blood into every nerve between her legs. She wanted to be ravished. Wanted him to pick her up just like he’d done the night before. She wanted no choice in it, no control.

“Was this…” he said in a gruff voice she’d never heard from him. “Was this all a ruse to get me in your bedroom?”

Molly smiled at him through her lashes and pressed one hand just below his heart. She spread her fingers wide and brushed her thumb over and over his nipple. “Do you really believe you needed to be tricked here? You think I couldn’t have had you earlier today?”

His laugh was humorless. “No,” he grumbled, then sucked in one short, violent breath when she leaned in to swirl her tongue around the nipple she’d been teasing.

She kissed it again, then slid her lips lower, pressing tiny kisses to his chest. She was back on her hands and knees, supplicant to his body, and the idea turned her on so much that she couldn’t help wiggling her ass as she pressed an openmouthed kiss just above his navel.

“Molly,” he growled, and his fingers curled into her hair just hard enough to be forceful. He dragged her up so fast that her body slammed into his chest and his mouth was on hers, open and hot and demanding.

Boy, her body remembered that taste, and every nerve that hadn’t been awake perked up as soon as his tongue rubbed hers. She moaned into him, then gasped with surprise when his hands took her elbows in a tight grasp to hold her still. He kissed her so hard she had to tilt her head back to take all he was giving, and, Jesus, it felt good.

His mouth left hers and she was breathing hard, gasping, as his teeth scraped her jaw. Then he leaned down, his hands still holding her still as he licked his way down her neck. The shadow of a beard scraped her chest, rasped against the cotton of her shirt, and he was on his knees on the floor.

“Ben,” she panted, her fists curled into her own hips, because his hands still held her pinned. His lips closed over her nipple, then his teeth, scraping her through the wet fabric. Molly keened and pushed against his hands, but her arms didn’t budge. She was helpless to stop his sucking, biting kisses, and the knowledge tightened everything inside her to a glorious tension. Her clit felt swollen. When she clenched her thighs, just that slight shift of her panties made her tremble.

“Oh, God. Oh, Ben. I need you to touch me.”

“I am touching you.” His words were ice against her wet nipple.

“No, I…”

He moved to the other nipple and lavished just as much attention there. She squirmed, arching into him, wishing he would just crawl inside her and ease this terrible pain.

“Please,” she begged.

His lips left her with a tiny wet sound and he smiled up at her, eyes burning hot. The wet cotton against her nipples had faded to transparency and the sight of her pink flesh begging for more attention only ratcheted her need higher.

“Please touch me,” she whispered. His thumbs skimmed over the inside of her elbows as a reminder that he already was. “Touch me…” She swallowed against the danger of what she really wanted to say. But his brown eyes glowed with demand. He wanted what she was afraid to give, afraid to admit.

“You like to talk,” he said, a challenge.

Molly gasped. “I was drunk!”

“Yes, you were. And you like to talk. So talk to me.”

She swallowed again and felt her heart quake in her chest. She’d always tried to control herself, tried to swallow back the embarrassing things she wanted to say. But Ben was looking up at her with a half smile that was secret, wicked and not the least bit sweet.

Her whisper hurt her throat. “I want…I want your fingers inside me. In my pussy. Fucking me.”

Oh, yeah, that was what he wanted, what they both wanted. His smile widened to victory, and her knees began to shake against the mattress as he released her arms. When he reached for her top, he stood and whipped it over her head with as little hesitation as she’d shown with his shirt.

She thought he was going to pull her close again, but his hands—his big hands—tucked under her arms, fingers spreading over her rib cage, and he picked her up. Just picked her up as if she weighed
nothing,
and he set her on her feet right between his body and the bed.

“Man, I love it when you do that.”

“I know,” he answered with the distinctive sound of male pleasure rumbling low in his voice. And then he pushed her panties off, shoved them off, really, and lifted her up
again,
as if she wasn’t horny enough. Her breasts pressed into the crisp hair of his chest and she wrapped her legs around his hips and pressed herself against his jeans.

“Mmm, déjà vu,” she moaned as he lifted one knee to the mattress and hauled them both up. She hung on like a monkey on a tree. A big ol’ hard, straight tree with a massive trunk.