Chapter Nine #3
“Uh, I don’t know what you want. I’m sorry.
” She shrugged, offering them an apologetic smile, but the dogs simply stared at her, alert.
“Is it a treat you’re after?” She reached for the cookie jar on the counter, only to find it empty.
Skylar chuckled as they sprang to their feet and barked insistently.
She glanced around the kitchen, no bones, no biscuits, not even a stray crumb. “Where…?” They bolted toward the laundry room off to the side, their nails clicking on the floor. She followed and saw them staring at a shelf. It was there she saw a small tin box. It was just out of reach.
“I’m sorry, babies. I can’t reach that—” Before she could finish, both dogs darted back into the kitchen, as a low rumble reached her ears.
Her heart dropped. A vehicle’s engine idled in the driveway.
Rawley. She clasped her hands, smoothing her shirt nervously, then retraced her steps into the kitchen.
The moment he entered, her breath caught.
He pulled off his white straw cowboy hat, revealing damp strands of hair darkened by heat.
He wore a deep blue T-shirt under a Kevlar vest with Livestock Agent stitched on it.
His badge glinted from his belt on the opposite side of the polished leather of his holster.
Below that, his faded jeans ended on scuffed cowboy boots.
She felt a familiar warmth flood her cheeks.
He bent to scratch behind the dogs’ ears, and they melted into his touch, tails wagging furiously.
Then he straightened, hat in hand, and their gazes met.
He strode across the room, closing the gap between them, and pressed his lips to hers.
His mouth was warm, and the faint scent of sweat and leather made her heart race.
“I’m sorry I’m late.” His voice rumbled against her cheek.
“You’re not. I just got here. I didn’t even get to open the pet door yet.” She lightly touched his vest, then slid her hands to his utility belt. He grinned when she jingled the handcuffs, then he kissed her again, slower this time, letting the heat build between them.
“I’ll get it. You taste good,” he murmured, his breath tickling her skin. She pulled back.
“Uh, please don’t take this wrong, but you need a shower.”
Rawley chuckled. “I was out in the damn heat all day.”
“It was sweltering.”
“Yeah. I was sweating in places you don’t want to hear about.”
Skylar laughed. “You’re damn right I don’t.” After a tender peck, he shuffled to the bench by the door, slipped off his boots with a soft thud, then peeled off the vest, holster, and belt, carrying them into the laundry room.
“Any idea what you want to get to eat?” he called back, his voice drifting through the doorway.
“No. You?”
Moments later he reappeared in nothing but snug charcoal boxer briefs. She swallowed hard, her gaze tracing the sculpted lines of his torso, the firm definition of his thighs. He tilted his head when she didn’t answer. “Skylar?”
“Oh. I don’t care. Whatever you want is fine,” she squeaked, sounding breathy even to her own ears. He stepped closer, close enough that she could almost taste the salt of his skin. Her mouth went dry.
“Whatever I want?” He brushed a fingertip across her collarbone. “I want you to take a shower with me.” He leaned in and pressed a warm kiss behind her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.
“I just had one,” she whispered.
Rawley lifted his head, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.
The corners of his mouth twitched, then curved upward into a slow, devastating grin.
“Then you can just watch,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble like distant thunder.
He took her hand, his fingers entwining with hers, and guided her toward the staircase.
Skylar smiled. “Yeah, I could perch on the counter while you shower,” she suggested, with a grin.
Rawley paused on the bottom step, his eyebrows lifting in a silent question. “I need someone to wash my… back,” he admitted, his voice laced with subtle insinuation.
She laughed. “You have twenty showerheads pointing everywhere,” she teased.
He chuckled. “There are five,” he corrected, his voice taking on a playful tone. “One on each side wall, two on the back, and one from the ceiling. My math says five.”
Skylar rolled her eyes but smiled. “You can be such a smartass.”
In response, Rawley wrapped her in his arms, pulling her flush against him. His lips found hers, capturing them in a deep, lingering kiss that sent her senses reeling. “Shower with me. Please,” he whispered against her mouth, his breath hot and inviting.
“Well, you talked me into it,” she laughed, her heart fluttering as he led her up the stairs, through the bedroom, and into the steamy promise of the bathroom.
****
Rawley opened the frosted glass shower door, reaching in to turn the handle.
Water cascaded from the showerheads, creating a symphony of sound against the tile.
He adjusted the temperature, steam billowing and fogging the mirror and marble countertop, then closed the door.
When he turned to look at Skylar, a low groan escaped his lips.
She had stripped off her clothes, her body a vision of curves and smooth skin.
He walked to her slowly, his eyes drinking in every detail.
He lightly kissed her lips, his voice a husky whisper.
“You are a stunning woman, Skylar McCoy.” He kissed her again, hungry and insistent, then slid his arms around her waist, pulling her tight against him, the hard length of his cock pressing against her belly.
“Do you feel how much I want you, Skylar?” he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire.
“Yes,” she whispered, arching her hips against him, her body responding to his touch.
He slid his hands down to her ass, lifting her effortlessly onto the cool marble counter. He moved his palms up her thighs, down to her knees, and back up, his thumbs brushing against her curls. Each touch had her drawing out longer moans.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. “Tell me what you want, Skylar,” he whispered.
“Rawley…” She groaned.
“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked, as he nipped her earlobe with his teeth.
“Yes, please,” she pleaded, her voice a desperate whisper.
Rawley kissed her, his body leaning into her until her back pressed against the fogged mirror. He slid his hands up her thighs, stopping at the juncture, moving his finger, tracing her slit but not yet touching her clitoris. She groaned, her hips arching up from the counter, begging for more.
“Skylar, tell me,” he urged.
“Touch me, please. Rawley…” she breathed, her body trembling.
Rawley growled low in his throat as he moved his finger to her clitoris, rubbing it slowly.
Pressing his lips against hers, he moved his tongue into her mouth.
Her breath hitched, her moans growing louder as she wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding against him as he continued to touch her.
When she sucked on his tongue, he nearly lost control.
Her body shuddered, her cry of release echoing through the steam-filled room.
She leaned her forehead on his shoulder, her breath coming in deep gasps.
Rawley stepped back, his body trembling with need. He hoped he could walk to get a condom, his arousal straining against his boxer briefs.
“Rawley,” she called, reaching out toward him.
“Stay right there,” he commanded in a firm voice. He left the bathroom, retrieving a condom from the nightstand. When he reentered, she was still sitting there, her head back against the mirror, her eyes closed. She opened them as he approached, and he held up the condom.
After shoving off his boxer briefs, he ripped open the packet and rolled the condom down his length. Stepping between her legs, he looked into her eyes, his voice low. “I’m going to fuck you hard,” he promised, inching into her, never breaking eye contact.
Skylar’s legs wrapped around his waist, her body moving in rhythm with his.
He couldn’t hold back much longer, her heat and tightness enveloping him, driving him to the brink.
He gripped her hips in his hands, as he pounded into her.
As his orgasm approached, Skylar cried out again, her body clenching around him.
With a final, deep thrust, he followed her over the edge, a low groan escaping his lips as he came.
“We can’t do this again,” he said between ragged breaths, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.
Skylar raised her head, her damp hair clinging to her flushed cheeks as she frowned. “What? Why?”
“Because every time it gets better and eventually it’ll just kill us both.”
She laughed. “If we’re doing that at the time, I’m fine with that.”
Rawley grinned. “Me too.” He glanced at the glass-enclosed shower, steam already fogging the door. “I hope we still have hot water.” He chuckled when she laughed.
“I need cooled down anyway.” She cupped his stubbled cheeks in her soft hands. “You’re an amazing man, Agent Rawley Bowman.”
He smiled. “I try. Let’s see if we can get a quick shower then we’ll order something to eat, catch a movie.”
When she nodded, her eyes sparkling, he lifted her off the marble counter, and they entered the stall. The water cascaded over their bodies until it began to cool from lukewarm to chilly, forcing them to get out and dry off with the plush towels.
“My suitcase is downstairs,” she said, wrapping the towel tighter around her.
“I’ll give you a pair of my sweatpants and a T-shirt.” He walked from the bathroom and padded across the hardwood floor to his dresser. “We’ll bring your bag when we come back up later.”
“Alright.”
Rawley opened a drawer, pulled out a pair of gray sweatpants, then another to get a navy-blue T-shirt. He handed them to her, then got the same out for himself, the fabric soft from numerous washings. He pulled on a pair of thick white socks.
“My socks would be too big for you,” he said, eyeing her feet.
Skylar laughed. “Everything you have is too big for me.”
“Not everything.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, making her laugh, a blush spreading across her already pink cheeks.
“What have I gotten myself into?”
Rawley chuckled as he dressed, then looked at her.
“I’ll meet you in the living room.”
“Okay.”
He leaned down, kissed the top of her head, walked from the room, down the front stairs, then sat on the sofa and pulled the drawer open to remove the restaurant take-out menus. They didn’t have a lot of choices, but they all had good food.
He glanced up when she entered the room and grinned.
“I had to roll the legs up, but I love this T-shirt. It’s so soft and it smells like you.”
“That’s laundry detergent,” he said with a grin.
“Don’t ruin it for me.” She sat down beside him. “What are we getting? I’m hungry.”
“Me too. I missed lunch today.”
“Why?”
“I was busy, sweetheart.”
“Doing what? Can you tell me?” she asked as she picked up a menu.
“I can tell you we’re trying to track down some rustlers.”
“Oh, okay. How many?”
“I wish we knew. We think it’s a big operation with a lot of men involved.”
“That’s so scary.”
“It can be.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m as careful as I can be.”
“I hope so.”
“I’m not a loose cannon. I know what I have to do and pray no one gets shot or worse.”
“Have you ever been shot?”
“Twice. In my vest.”
“That hurts though, right?”
“Oh, yeah. It will knock you on your ass depending on the ammo.”
“At least it protects you.”
Rawley nodded. There was no way he’d tell her that some thieves use armor piercing ammo, and an agent had been killed. He didn’t need to stress her out or scare her. He leaned forward, picked up the menus and looked through them.
“What are you hungry for?” he asked.
“What choices do we have?”
“Chinese, pizza, subs, burgers,” he said with a shrug.
“Burgers from the diner?”
“No. They don’t deliver. The pizza place does though. They have subs too.”
“How about pizza?”
“Alright. I like everything on it.”
“Of course, you do. No peppers for me.”
“Okay. They can put peppers on half. Everything else alright?”
“Yes, I love their meat lovers with mushrooms, but without peppers on my half.”
“That’s what we’ll get then.” Rawley picked up his laptop from the coffee table, entered the site, placed an order, paid for it, added a tip, then closed the computer and set it back on the table.
He stretched out on the sofa, then pulled her between his legs, turned on the TV and smiled when she snuggled against him.