The Tracker's Dilemma: (A Mandrake Company Science Fiction Romance) (28 page)

“Oh?” His voice went a tad squeaky as he remembered her standing next to him as he had satisfied himself. “That was nice, but I’d like to, ah—” He groped for an articulate way to say that he wanted to plunge into her this time instead of bursting into a towel in his hand. “I want you,” he said, though that wasn’t as articulate as he had imagined. He definitely should have spent more time rehearsing.

“I know.” She looked toward the exam table near the back wall of the clinic area. It was a little broader and more bed-like than the one in the shuttle lab. “How shall we proceed?”

He almost laughed. She was so logical, clinical.

“No kissing, right?” he asked. He had better get the rules down in advance. He’d learned from past experience not to surprise a woman with anything she wasn’t expecting.

That familiar nose crinkle of distaste came to her face. “It’s not required, is it?”

“Not at all, especially not if I can use my lips elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere is fine.”

He shifted slightly to put her back to the counter, then lifted her onto it, sliding both hands around to hold her from behind as he slid between her legs. He lowered his mouth to the side of her throat, inhaling her scent, brushing his lips down the curve of her neck.

“Heath,” she protested.

“Hm?” He paused. She had seemed to enjoy the nuzzling and nipping before.

“I do my experiments on my counter. This is unsanitary.”

He snorted softly. “We haven’t done anything unsanitary. Yet.”

“But...”

By now, he was sliding his hands under her shirt, massaging her lower back as he kissed his way along her neck. Her skin was warm, her scent appealing. He slid one hand up her back to her hair, rubbing her scalp as he breathed her in, tasting here and there, nibbling at her skin. He was aware of the rise and fall of her chest, of her breasts pressing against the fabric of her blouse. Would she mind if he slipped that blouse off her? Last time, he’d touched her breasts through her bra, but he wanted to look at them without clothing in the way, to hold them in his hands, to tease her nipples with his tongue.

“Heath?” she asked.

“Yes?” he murmured, hoping she wasn’t still worrying about making work surfaces unsanitary. His erection pressed against the edge of the counter; he would only need to stand a little taller to have it pressing against
her
.

“I’m getting aroused,” she announced.

He grinned as he kissed the soft skin near her collarbone. “Good.”

She ran her hands up the outsides of his arms to his shoulders, dragging her fingernails, the sharp sensation making gooseflesh rise on the back of his neck. Before, she hadn’t touched him much, simply leaning back and letting him get aroused by touching her, by satisfying her needs. That had worked just fine for him—all he had to do was think about her, and he grew aroused—but as she kneaded his shoulders, digging her nails in now and then, the wires in his brain started shorting out. For a moment, he couldn’t remember what he was doing. The feel of her breasts just touching his chest reminded him.

He shifted his hand from her scalp to the front of her shirt, pausing to hold her breast for a moment, brushing her nipple with his thumb. It poked at the fabric of her blouse, hard and eager, just like he was. He shifted to the fastener, sliding his finger down it so he could push the garment away. He lowered himself as he did so, running his tongue from her collarbone across the smooth skin of her chest as he removed her bra, freeing her breasts. She made a protesting sound when he tossed her blouse and her bra onto the countertop beside them.

“Not sanitary?” he asked, pausing for a moment to drink in the perfection of her bare breasts, the way her pink nipples puckered.

“Extremely unacceptable,” she said, but her hands did not stop roaming. They drifted from his shoulders to the back of his head, fingers pushing through his hair, nails scraping his scalp.

He groaned as a thousand prickles of pleasure plucked at his nerves, his body feeling more alive than it had in years. He bent forward, taking one of her nipples in his mouth as he stroked the other breast and continued to massage her back with his free hand. He felt her spine shift as she arched into him, and the tiny gasp that escaped her lips fanned the fire already burning within him. The woman who had no interest in sex was enjoying this, enjoying
him
.

He slid his tongue in a circle around her nipple, then suckled at it, swelling with pride—and other things—as she pulled his head closer, fingers digging in, as if she wanted him to swallow her whole. He moved to the other breast, not wanting it to get jealous, as he slid his hand down the bare skin of her belly. The muscles shivered slightly under his touch. He hooked his fingers around her waistband, then lowered his thumb, brushing the seam between her thighs, rubbing it gently. She gasped again, not so subtly this time, pushing herself against his thumb.

His cock twitched eagerly, wanting him to tear off the rest of her clothing so it could take the place of that thumb. It would be easy—as she had said, she was already aroused, and he could take her there, plunging in, ramming into her like an animal, but he wanted her to truly enjoy this. He didn’t just want to have sex with her once. He wanted her again and again, and she would have to love being with him for her to agree to that.

He unhooked her trousers and lifted her just enough so he could slide them down. She made a sound of protest as his lips left her breast so that he could kneel to remove her socks and shoes. He caressed her calf and slid his hand back up her leg, brushing his thumb against the sensitive flesh between her legs.

“You forgot something,” she whispered, lowering a hand to the waistband of her panties.

“I’ll get to them,” he said, resting his hand atop hers to keep her from wriggling out of them. He looked up at her, his chin near the heat of her core, and smiled, taking in the flush to her cheeks, the way her hair tumbled about her bare breasts. “There’s no rush,” he added, then leaned in.

He pressed his mouth and nose against her, nuzzling her first, enjoying the way she wriggled into him. Her hands found his hair again, gripping the short tufts, pressing him into her. He went willingly, licking and nibbling through the thin material. Her first groan escaped, the sound exciting him further, again bringing to mind fantasies of tearing aside those panties and driving into her. She was hot and wet and ready. She wouldn’t mind.

He nipped her lightly through the material, teasing her with his teeth, enjoying the sound of her breaths quickening. He pushed aside the damp material so he could slip his tongue into her heat. At his first touch with nothing between them, she bucked against him. He gripped her ass, holding her to him, probing that sensitive nub between her lips. Her heady scent and taste flooded his senses, and he couldn’t help but want more, want to give her more and to ready her so he could take more later. He groaned, vibrating his lips against her clitoris, and her head went back, clunking against the cabinet. He would have stopped so they could shift positions, but her fingers dug into his head, and she writhed against him, sweat gleaming on her belly as her breasts rose and fell with her rapid breaths.

He rose slightly, pulling her waistband down and finally removing her panties. She spread herself for him, pulling his head back toward her. As his eyes devoured her sweet pinkness, he had to once again fight against the nearly overwhelming urge to take her. Instead, he brought his mouth back to her lower lips, running his tongue through her valley, taking his time until she was trembling within his grip. He shifted his mouth to her clitoris, teasing it ever so slightly with his tongue, circling it and eliciting a pleading cry of, “Heath!”

He relished that plea, deliciously excited by her display of need. Finally, with her trembling in his hands, he took her between his lips and sucked at her. That was all it took. She cried out, arching off the counter as she came for him.

She nearly fell forward, tumbling into his arms. He straightened and caught her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, as if afraid of falling. His cock strained toward her, protesting its imprisonment in his trousers, still aching to sink into her. Knowing she would need time before she would be ready for that, he took deep breaths, trying to calm his own need. He didn’t want to resort to masturbating in front of her this time. He kissed her sweat-dampened neck. No, he wanted to have her tight tunnel wrapped around him, to sink in deep and come inside of her.

Groaning at the thought, he let her slide down him a little, until her heat pressed against the bulge in his trousers.

“Heath,” she said, and he thought she might protest the hardness against her swollen core. She wouldn’t be ready for him yet.

“Yeah?” he croaked, barely able to find his voice, too aware that only the fabric of his trousers lay between him and paradise.

“You’re still wearing your clothes.”

“Yeah,” he repeated, his mind having trouble forming bigger words.

“That’s going to make it hard for you to insert your penis in the proper orifice.” She leaned back and smirked at him. Her cheeks were still flushed, but her eyes twinkled with amusement now. Or maybe pleasure.

“This is true,” he managed to get out. “I could strip, but I’d have to let you go to do that. Perhaps if I set you back down somewhere.” He glanced toward the counter.

“My workstation has already been defiled enough, thank you very much. I’ll need a five-gallon tub of sanitizer after rubbing my naked nether regions all over the counter.” Her nose wrinkled, and he couldn’t help but laugh, even if his cock had things other than humor in mind.

She wriggled out of his grasp, her bare feet coming down on the deck, her body rubbing against his crotch as she readjusted. His eyes rolled back in his head. If she hadn’t been talking fondly of penises and orifices, he doubted he could have found the wherewithal to keep from grabbing himself to sate his needs right there.

Her palms came to rest on his chest, and she pushed him back to the exam table, which he decided to think of as a bed. He grabbed his hem, intending to pull his shirt over his head. She reached down, catching it at the same time.

“I want to help,” she said, her warm gaze capturing his.

The memory of her touching his naked chest and licking his nipple surged into his mind. “I’m amenable to that,” he whispered.

“Good.”

• • • • •

Lauren had felt quite brazen pushing Heath back to the exam table, but she didn’t know what she was doing and worried he would notice. Oh, she could handle removing his clothes, but what would he expect after that? Her previous experience with sex had involved being under the covers, enduring groping and kissing while she worked on arousing herself sufficiently so her partner wouldn’t hurt her when he thrust his penis into her. Becoming aroused with Heath was much easier, and she had no trouble seeing that
he
was already aroused, but she had a notion that she should do more than rub his hair and shoulders a few times before they engaged in coitus. He’d put a lot of effort into evoking an orgasm for her, and she wished to put some effort into reciprocating.

Not that it wouldn’t be nice to touch him for her own sake… After she tugged his shirt over his head, she let her fingers trail down the sleek flesh of his muscled chest. She’d seen shirtless, sweaty mercenaries flinging each other around in the gym before and had thought little of it, but Heath was different. He’d risked his life for her sister—and for her. And he made her laugh and feel safe.

She leaned forward and kissed his chest, letting her lips linger as she inhaled his clean, masculine scent. “You never shared the rest of your good bit with me,” she mentioned, thinking of the way he wanted to snuggle in bed at night with her while they read to each other.

“Huh?” From the way he blurted that, he probably wasn’t thinking of snuggling or good bits now. Fair enough.

“About Hoss and the fire.”

“You didn’t seem that interested.” His voice was raspy, almost hoarse.

“I was still formulating an opinion.” She ran her fingers down to his belt as she kissed her way along the rounded swell of his chest. This was much more pleasurable than exchanging saliva. His skin was warm and sleek and smelled good. She smiled as she explored further. He tasted good too.

“I thought you were just mocking the hero’s name.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, stirring new sensations of pleasure within her as she unfastened his belt.

“It deserved to be mocked. Much like Tick.”

“I’m going to let you insult me like that, because you’re kissing my stomach, and it feels really good.”

“Good.” She pushed his trousers off his hips, feeling more comfortable. He was a friend first. Besides, she had seen most of him already, when he had been masturbating in her lab. She smiled at the memory, continuing to kiss her way down his body, nipping at the taut muscles of his abdomen, letting her fingers run down the fine hairs that pointed her lower.

He kept stroking her hair, his hands gentle, not demanding, even though his breathing sounded heavy. When she looked up, she found him gazing down at her, his eyes hungry with need. Though he remained still, almost tense as she explored him, she sensed that he might prefer to forgo that in favor of actual coitus. She tugged his underwear down, freeing his penis. She stroked him with one hand a few times, feeling his heat against her fingers, the different texture of the skin there, the way his body strained toward her, belying his calmness. She pushed his trousers down to his ankles. He hurried to help her shuck socks and shoes, almost clubbing her with his penis. He apologized, and she laughed. He laughed, too, and they ended up on their knees on the floor, hugging. He kissed her temple and stroked her hair, and she decided this wasn’t so bad.

“I’m ready for you,” she whispered into his ear, giving his earlobe a suck, remembering how that had sent a jolt of pleasure through her.

He groaned, his grip tightening around her. “Here? Or on the table? Or the counter? What can we defile with our naked nether regions?”