Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
B rock tossed a towel at Ophelia right inside his front door as they both ditched their boots and coats. “You want a warm shower or the hot tub?”
She blinked and hung her coat on the nearest hook. Snow covered her pretty dark hair and her jeans up to her knees. “You have a hot tub?”
“Of course. It’s Alaska in the winter.” He tried not to think of her nude body in his hot tub. “I don’t have swimsuits, just so you know. It’s up to you, Ophelia. I want you to stay tonight since there’s a shooter out there looking for you, and my cabin is better protected than the B&B. You can shower quickly to warm up, borrow some clothes, and then you’re welcome to stay in my guest room.” He rubbed snow out of his hair to land on the mat. “Or you can join me in my bed.” He didn’t need to add the rest.
Her instant chuckle surprised him and then ran right down his spine to land in his groin. “I like that you don’t play games.”
He wouldn’t know how to play that kind of game and didn’t care to learn. “I figured you should understand all of your options.”
Her smile widened. “I also like that you have absolutely no confidence issues.”
Why would he?
She removed her wet sweater, revealing a light green tank top. “I also like that you can handle yourself in emergencies, have a softness for people in trouble, and fill out your T-shirt like a sculptor chiseled you out of stone.”
Amusement battled with instant arousal inside him. “I’m getting the feeling that a but is coming my way.”
“Yeah, you have a cute butt,” she drawled, her nipples clearly outlined beneath the soft fabric of her shirt. “This whole situation is complicated, and I believe that you didn’t kill Hank.”
He cocked his head, noting the goose bumps on her bare shoulders. Oh, he could warm her up and fast, but that was her decision. “You believe me?”
“Yes, I believe that you didn’t kill Hank and don’t know who did,” she said, her eyes the clear blue of a mysterious night. “That doesn’t make this any less complicated.”
“It can,” he murmured, moving toward her slowly. “It’s just you and me here, Olly. No past, no cases, no facts. Just us.” He grasped her delicate chin between his finger and thumb, gently tilting her face and giving her every opportunity in the world to stop him.
Her breath caught, but she didn’t pull away. “You protected me tonight. Just like the other night after we were shot at, and I fell in the river.” Her voice softened with a thin thread of…bewilderment?
He stepped closer, letting the heat of his body wash over her. Why was she so unaccustomed to a man providing cover? “I know you’re an agent and probably a good one, and I know you’ve had training.” He’d never want to take anything away from her. “But this is my town, and I’m used to the wildness of Alaska.”
“I know,” she murmured.
It was true, but that wasn’t all, and he wouldn’t hold back. “More importantly, whether you like it or not, you were a woman riding with me both times, and I’m going to protect you. Call me a throwback, call me a chauvinist, even call me an asshole, but that doesn’t change the fact that if you’re in danger, I’m going to tear any threat apart until you’re safe.” Giving her that was a risk, but he wouldn’t lie to her about who he was in case she wanted in his bed.
Her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip.
He went rock-hard in an instant. Tension spiraled around them, through him. Keeping his hold light, he lowered his head and brushed his mouth across hers. Her lips were soft and cold, and he licked the bottom one, warming her.
She shivered, and her hands slid up his shirt to his neck as she opened her mouth and let him in.
He dove, kissing her deeper, sweeping his tongue against hers and tasting mint and woman with a hint of strawberries. How the hell did she taste like strawberries? He growled low, grasping her hip and dragging her against him, his mind spinning and his body rioting.
Fire detonated in his gut. He slid his hand around her hip and beneath the flimsy material, stroking the pads of his fingers across her already-heated skin. The woman had gone from shivering to full-on burning, creating a storm in him more powerful than the one outside. He wasn’t certain he’d survive it, survive them, but it was too late for caution or reason—at least for him. Hopefully, she’d come to her senses and save them both.
He released her mouth, barely lifting his head.
Her eyes glowed the desperate cerulean of the innermost flickers of a campfire, the hot and tempting blue usually buried deep in the crackling flames. Pink flushed her smooth skin, and in the dim light, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
His heart thudded hard, and he took the hit, unable to look away from her. Whatever was happening between them, this new and terrifying sense of need also reflected in her eyes. She felt it, too.
Her hands clenched in his shirt, her fingers curling against his upper chest. Her breath quickened, making her full breasts move beneath the camisole, her nipples so hard he could barely keep from touching her. She licked her bottom lip, her eyes darkening. “If we do this, if we start this, we keep us separate from the case. From everything else.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” In one smooth move, he lifted her against his chest and ignored the warning bells in the back of his head. It was much too late for that.
Ophelia caught her breath at his easy strength, sliding her arm over his shoulders. Oh, this was crazy. Her taste in men was terrible, which had resulted in her being banished to the middle of nowhere. Making this mistake might end her career for good.
She didn’t care.
At the moment, nothing mattered but the powerful arms holding her and the devastating mouth above hers. She’d never felt so safe and yet so in danger at the same time, and the conflux of opposing feelings hit her like an aphrodisiac. Yeah, she was screwed up.
Who cared?
He carried her into a bedroom that smelled like the forest and Brock. Gently, he sat her on the bed, then whipped off her top and sent it sailing over his head.
She barely got out a laugh before he dropped to his knees, jerked her by the waist closer to him, and sucked one nipple into the inferno of his mouth. Shock and fire rolled through her, and she pressed her hands to the bedspread right behind her butt, unable to do anything else in the moment except arch into his mouth.
He licked and sucked, nipping with just enough bite to steal any breath she might’ve kept. His shoulders kept her legs wide, and his hands grabbed her ass, partially lifting her as if he couldn’t get enough. His tongue was rough and abrasive as he feasted on both nipples, the underside of her breasts, and the hollow between them as if starving.
For her.
She made a sound of protest, unable to think, wanting to get her hands on him.
He lifted his head, his green gaze wilder than any animal in the Alaskan wilderness. “You said yes.”
“I meant it,” she breathed, reaching for his shirt.
“Good. My way.” Keeping her gaze, he pulled at her socks, gently drawing them off and running his hands along her calves.
She reached for the clasp of her jeans, but his hands were there first, ripping open the button and yanking the wet material down. Her jeans and panties joined her tank top somewhere in the room. One wide hand pressed against her upper chest, pushing her down onto her back. He yanked her ankles up and over his shoulders with no warning.
Then his mouth was on her.
She cried out, her eyes closing. The feelings were too intense, and she needed to think, but he went full in on her clit and thighs with his tongue, lips, teeth, and heated breath. The world fragmented, and she sucked in breath as an orgasm blew through her so hard her ears rang.
He didn’t stop.
His fingers joined his mouth, his teeth nipping her thighs, his shoulders holding her open for him. Never in her life had she been so helpless in someone’s hands as her body gave itself over to him completely, her mind fuzzing into nothing but pleasure. Even so, she shook her head. “I can’t. Not again.” In fact, one was her limit—if any.
He lifted his head, his eyes burning green. “Wrong.” Then his grip tightened, and his mouth sucked her clit into his mouth, his abrasive tongue scraping across her.
She bucked and then tightened, a second orgasm ripping through her and shooting electricity throughout her entire body. Gasping, shuddering, she came down, her heart thundering.
He kept going.
She partially lifted a hand to stop him, but her limbs had gone weak, and she let her arm fall to the bedspread. She shut her eyes, and more pleasure attacked her. Her world, the one only she inhabited, narrowed only to him. His teeth scraped her clit just as his fingers bit into her butt, and she flew again, this time with a weak sigh. Her body shuddered from head to toe. “Brock,” she murmured, feeling on fire, alive, yet somehow empty.
He stood, his gaze trapping her as effectively as his hands had. He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the hard muscles she’d felt, along with scars she hadn’t realized he had. So many. Bullets, knives, and gouges. The wild tattoo of the deadly Osprey moved with the play of his muscles as if the bird of prey had a life of its own.
He pushed his jeans down, kicked them out of the way, and watched her.
She felt like prey. The sensation rippled through her with an excitement that didn’t make sense but propelled her desire even higher nonetheless. He was built and already hard and big. Very.
His fingers slid inside her, and satisfaction flared across his rugged face. “You’re ready.”
She nodded. “I am.”
“Me, too.” He leaned to the side and yanked a condom out of his bedside table, ripping open the wrapper and quickly rolling it over himself. He set a knee on the bed, slid a hand beneath her ass, and lifted her to him. Then he pressed into her, stretching her, burning her, overtaking her and not pausing.
His invasion was intense, and her body was forced to accept him. Inch by inch. At the back of her mind, she knew he’d prepared her for this, which softened her even more to take him. All of him. His fingers dug into her hips, and he levered completely over her, overwhelming her. He wasn’t gentle, and it felt like he gave her all of him.
She wanted that. More than she’d realized.
He drove all the way inside, and her body arched, her head going back. He was huge. The feeling was beyond intense. Then he started to move, hard and fast, controlling every movement, maybe even her breath. She grabbed the tense and corded muscles in his arms, holding on for all she was worth.
He powered inside her, hard and strong, slamming deep.
She lifted her knees, giving him more, her inner thighs smashed against his hips.
He still watched her, his thrusts ruthless, his hold unbreakable. Again and again, he hit a spot deep inside her she hadn’t realized was there, forcing spirals of raw pleasure to take her away. Ache and need and something else, something desperate, attacked every cell in her body and every thought she might’ve had.
There was no warning as the volcano erupted, blowing inside her and clenching her inner muscles so hard it hurt. His cocked swelled, fighting to stay deep, his body shuddering as she pulled him with her and drained him. She rode the wild storm and finally came down with a soft whimper, her body relaxing.
His forehead dropped to hers as he jerked more inside her. Then he kissed her, a bare, gentle brush against her mouth, and tears pricked the backs of her eyes.
She closed them and felt her heart beating too fast for reality.
He rolled off her, tugging her into his side. “I like your butt, too.”
She burst out laughing, even though sleep was already calling her home. “Night.”
“Oh, baby. We’re just getting started.” Then he kissed her again.