Blaze of Glory (21 page)

Okay,
time
to
make
a
move,
since
he’d
taken
the
risk
in
bringing
her
out
to
this
private
place
to
talk.
She stepped
forward.
“Very
much
so,
super
smart
and
sexy
guy.” He
reached
over
to
pluck
an
orchid
blossom
from
a
bush,
the
terrain
coming
more
into
focus
the
longer
her eyes
adjusted
to
the
stars
and
moonlight
filtering
through
the
lush
green
canopy.

Slowly,
he
traced
her
collarbone
with
the
bloom.
“I
can
promise
you
there
are
no
snakes
here.”

“How
can
you
be
certain?”
She
shivered
with
arousal
over
that
simple
stroke,
almost
sexy
enough
to
make her
get
over
that
snake
fear
ASAP.

“I
did
a
little
recon,
tossed
mothballs
around,
scouted
the
area,
bribed
a
guard
and
deemed
it
as
safe
as anywhere
else
we
might
find
even
within
the
camp.”
He
took
the
flower
up
the
side
of
her
neck,
along
her jawbone.
“I
promise
no
one
will
bother
us.”

Help.
Her
knees
were
losing
strength
fast.
“Safe
enough
for
what?”

“Safe
enough
to
make
out
against
that
very
sturdy
tree
directly
behind
you.” CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

MAKE
OUTagainst
the
tree?
Behind
her?

Felicia
shivered
in
anticipation.
She’d
never
made
out
against
a
tree.
As
a
matter
of
fact,
she
pretty
much hadn’t
done
anything
adventurous
in
the
sex
department,
because
her
ex
had
been
rigid—no
pun
intended—

regarding
his
ideas
about
how
a
wife
should
act
in
bed.
Apparently
his
ideas
for
his
mistress
had
been
far more
acrobatic.

Right
now,
she
wanted
to
banish
those
bad
memories.
She
wanted
to
be
audacious
and
spontaneous.
And yes,
she
wanted
safe.
That
timid
teen
couldn’t
be
squelched
altogether,
and
with
Matt,
she
definitely
felt
safe, admired.

And
very,
very
sexy.

The
heat
in
his
eyes
left
her
with
no
doubts
on
that
front.
“So,
Ms.
Secretagentlady.
Does
the
tree
interest you?”

She
struck
a
pose,
hand
on
hip.
“The
man
interests
me.
Anywhere.
Anytime.
But
that
tree
certainly
sounds like
a
good
place
to
start.”

He
strode
toward
her
one
bold,
unhurried
step
at
a
time.
“And
you
trust
me
if
we
decide
we
want
more
than a
kiss
and
a
grope
this
time?”

Wow.
He
really
meant
they
might
go
all
the
way.
This
was
a
pretty
big
leap
from
an
adulthood
of
nothing but
missionary
sex
that
provided
less
satisfaction
than
her
relationship
with
her
shower
massager.
Bottom line,
she
trusted
Matt
and
wanted
him
very
much.
“I
believe
I
see
that
in
your
eyes
already.”

“Insightful
as
well
as
smart.
I
like
that
in
a
lover.”

Lover.
Holy
guacamole,
she
was
about
to
take
a
lover.
Yet
she
could
only
think
how
she
had
darn
good taste
in
men,
after
all.

He
stopped
in
front
of
her,
meeting
chest
to
chest,
not
kissing,
instead
searching
her
eyes
with
a
deep, penetrating
gaze.

Still
staring
into
her
eyes,
he
walked
forward,
his
leg
nudging
hers
to
move
backward
toward
the
trunk.
His other
leg
moved,
and
so
the
dance
continued
until
her
back
met
the
tree.
A
vague
scent
of
bug
spray
clung
to the
air,
making
her
smile
as
she
thought
of
him
coming
here,
planning,
imagining.

Hopefully
she
could
live
up
to
those
expectations.

Matt
lowered
his
head
to
nuzzle
her
neck,
whispered
against
her
ear
as
birds
serenaded
in
the
background.

“No
one
will
come
this
way,
so
we’re
safe
from
intruders.
But
you’ll
have
to
be
quiet,
very
quiet.” Already
her
nerves
screamed
with
want.
She
whispered
back,
“That
may
be
quite
difficult.”

“That’s
part
of
the
fun,”
he
assured
her
between
kisses,
fast
nips,
longer,
deeper
ones
and
back
to
the skimming,
teasing
kinds
again.

Fun
and
sex
had
never
been
synonymous
for
her,
but
she
liked
the
sound
of
it.
The
words
rode
the
gentle breeze
into
her
with
a
long
inhale
as
he
inched
her
dress
down
farther
over
her
shoulders
and
cupped
her breasts.

She
fumbled
with
his
belt,
his
pants,
opening
his
fly
until
she
had
access
to…the
long,
hot
length
of
him.
She explored
with
her
fingers,
her
thumb
rolling
over
the
top,
up
and
down.
Loving
that
there
were
no boundaries
in
pleasuring
each
other,
savoring
the
moment.
He
buried
his
face
deeper
into
her
neck, smothering
his
groan
in
her
skin.

His
hand
withdrew
from
her
breast
and
she
whimpered
her
frustration
until
he
pressed
something
into
her palm.
A
condom.
Of
course.
She
so
wanted
to
be
as
arousing
for
him
as
he
was
for
her,
but
he
had
her
beat in
the
sexual
experience
department.
She
felt
on
far
more
even
footing
in
her
secretagentlady
persona.

And
yet,
he
hadn’t
voiced
a
complaint
yet.

So,
just
do
it.
Put
the
condom
on
him.
Not
that
she
had
to
worry
about
pregnancy.
But
at
least
she
was
smart enough
to
know
that
there
were
other
dangers
out
there.
Diseases
that
she
didn’t
want
to
discuss
now
and ruin
the
moment.

The
condom
would
take
care
of
that.
If
one
of
them
would
just
unroll
it
over
the
silky
hard
strength
in
her hand.

Get
to
it,
girl.

She
decided
slow
and
careful
would
be
best
and
hopefully
he
would
take
it
as
deliberately
torturous,
rather than
inept.
His
drawnout
moan
encouraged
her.

His
hands
slid
lower
on
her
hips,
to
the
hem
of
her
short
red
stretchy
dress.
“You’re
going
to
need
to
get
rid of
some
clothes,
or
at
least
adjust
them.”

She
had
to
be
grateful
he
wouldn’t
see
some
of
the
scars
on
her
body
from
her
surgeries
and
so
many invasive
procedures.
She
wanted
this
night
to
be
all
about
the
moonlight
and
mystery.
“Lucky
for
you,
I wore
a
dress
today.”

“For
me?”

“For
me,
too.
Because
I
like
the
look
I
see
in
your
eyes
when
you
want
me.”

“This
dress
worked
like
a
charm.”

He
bunched
the
fireengine
red
fabric
up
in
his
hands
until
he
revealed
her
panties,
a
glittercovered
thong that
glinted
like
stars
in
the
moonlight.

“Rip
them.”
She
bit
his
bottom
lip
and
said
to
hell
with
what
they
cost.
The
payoff
would
be
well
worth
any price.

“My
pleasure.”
He
twisted
one
string
side
in
his
hands
and
pulled,
the
cord
tightening
an
arousing
pressure against
the
core
of
her,
taking
her
close
just
before
the
thin
strip
of
fabric
snapped.

He
swept
the
thong
down
and
she
slid
her
other
leg
free,
kicking
the
underwear
off.
Matt
snagged
it
in midair.
He
toyed
with
the
panties
in
his
hand
in
a
timeless
moment
of
masculine
victory
before
he
pocketed the
scrap.

Night
air
brushed
against
her
exposed
and
heated
flesh.
She’d
never
done
anything
like
this,
never
expected Matt
would
be
this
uninhibited.
The
excitement
sheered
through
her.

Her
tight
dress
stayed
gathered
around
her
waist,
giving
him
free
access
to
stroke
her
stomach,
hips,
cup
her buttocks
while
he
stayed
pressed
intimately
against
her
without
entering.

“Are
you
okay?”
he
asked.

“Totally.”
She
rubbed
her
cleft
against
his
sheathed
penis.
“Matt.
Now.”

“Soon.”
He
continued
the
gentle
friction
while
he
returned
his
attention
to
her
breasts
as
well.

“Uh,
you
know
there’s
not
much
to
find
there,”
she
warned.

“There’s
plenty.
Perfect.”

He
took
the
hardened
peak
of
her
nipple
in
his
mouth
and
ever
so
seductively
rolled
it
between
his
teeth, flicked
his
tongue
over
to
soothe,
adding
a
gentle
suction,
then
started
over
again.

She
reached
up
to
yank
the
other
shoulder
of
her
dress
down,
greedy
for
equal
attention.

He
growled
his
appreciation.
“I
like
a
woman
who
knows
what
she
wants.” Her
hands
ached
to
learn
the
feel
of
him.
“I
want
to
touch
you,
too.”

“Feel
free.”

While
he
shifted
his
talented
attention
to
her
other
breast,
she
slipped
her
hands
up
into
his
shirt
and explored,
learning
the
feel
of
him.
Muscles
and
man
and
the
slight
slick
of
sweat
caused
by
the
heat
andher.

She
reveled
in
her
power
over
him
even
as
she
knew
she
was
totally
mush
for
him.
She
might
not
be
the most
knowledgeable
here,
but
instincts
seemed
to
be
working
just
fine.

Finally,
yes,
yes,
yes,
she
felt
the
gentle
prodding,
the
sensually
slow
thrust
as
he
entered
her.
His
hands
slid around
to
her
back,
gathering
her
close.
Her
hands
slipped
lower,
around
and
into
his
khaki
pants
to
cup
his taut
rear
and
guide
him
deeper,
harder.
She
wanted
everything
from
this
moment
and
him.

And
he
very
wonderfully
delivered.

Faster
and
harder,
whatever
she
asked,
as
well
as
things
she
never
would
have
thought
to
ask
for
at
all.

Sweat
slicked
her
body,
his,
the
air
around
them
damp
with
the
perfume
of
persimmon
trees
and
raw
sex.

Resting
her
more
firmly
back
against
the
tree,
Matt
hitched
his
hands
under
her
knees
and
lifted
until
she
got the
message
and
hooked
her
legs
around
his
waist.

Totally
opening
herself
to
him.

Ahh.
He
filled
her
so
deeply
she
could
have
sworn
he
touched
her
soul
again
and
again
with
such
pleasure as
he
reached
a
bundle
of
nerves
up
high
inside
her
she’d
never
known
she
possessed.
Apparently
the
Gspot
notion
wasn’t
bunk
after
all.

Rational
thought
shattered—such
a
rarity
for
her—as
she
let
herself
move
and
writhe
to
wring
every
ounce of
pleasure
from
their
coupling.
Pressure
built
inside
her
as
he
buried
his
face
in
her
hair,
groaning
the
most amazing
litany
in
her
ear
of
how
perfect
she
felt.

Perfect.

A
word
she’d
never
applied
to
herself
since
her
imperfect
body
threw
her
life
into
such
turmoil
at
fifteen.

She
blinked
back
tears.
How
silly
to
cry
over
one
little
word.

Especially
now
as
everything
inside
her
clenched,
then
released
in
an
explosion
of
sensation
that
rivaled
any reaction
she
created
in
a
lab.
She
bit
back
the
shout,
since
she
knew
she
needed
to
stay
quiet.
Gasping
for breath
as
aftershocks
rippled
through
her,
she
let
the
tears
flow
while
Matt
found
his
finish
with
two
more powerful
strokes
that
wrung
a
second
orgasm
from
her.

She
kept
her
face
tucked
in
his
shoulder
while
he
nuzzled
her
hair,
stroked
her
shoulders,
soothing
her
back to
earth.
The
night
air
cooled
around
her,
distant
sounds
from
the
camp
filling
her
ears
now
that
her
heart
rate had
slowed.

As
much
as
she
tried
to
hide
her
crying
jag,
brought
on
by
the
implosion
of
emotion,
a
sniffle
must
have given
her
away.

Matt
inched
back,
peering
into
her
eyes
as
he
stopped
moving.
“Okay?”

“Perfect,”
she
answered
with
a
peace
and
surety
she
hadn’t
felt
in
over
twenty
years.
Yet
what
about afterward?
She
couldn’t
stop
the
niggle
of
fear,
wondering
if
she
could
trust
him
beyond
taking
care
of
her sexually.

BACK
IN
HIS
TENT,
Matt
held
Felicia
against
his
chest
in
a
perfect
fit
as
they
reclined
on
his
cot.
A
gentle rain
tapped
on
the
tent,
adding
an
extra
lazy
air
of
intimacy.
He
wasn’t
enthused
that
folks
might
gossip about
them
together,
but
given
how
they’d
been
found
in
a
lip
lock
by
the
Delta
forces
in
the
first
place, well…the
cat
was
already
out
of
the
bag,
so
to
speak.

There’d
been
something
so
interestingly
innocent
about
her
lovemaking,
he
suspected
she
might
need
the reassurance
of
this
postcoital
cuddling
more
than
some
other
women
he’d
known.

He
wasn’t
quite
sure
exactly
what
words
she
needed
and
since
his
vocab
skills
weren’t
up
there
with
his scientific
acumen,
he
opted
for
silence
while
he
toyed
with
her
amazing
hair,
a
flower
tucked
behind
her
ear.

The
same
orchid
he’d
first
touched
her
with.
The
practical
scientist
had
a
romantic
side,
after
all.

She
wriggled
more
snugly
against
his
side,
her
soft
breasts
a
sweet
temptation.
“My
hair
hasn’t
always
been this
curly.”

Not
many
women
admitted
to
beautyparlor
enhancements.
Where
was
she
going
with
this?
Best
to
toss some
generic
statements
out
there
and
let
her
lead
the
conversation
toward
whatever
it
was
she
needed
to
tell him.

Matt
watched
a
dark
lock
loop
around
his
finger,
his
eyes
having
adjusted
to
the
dark,
since
he
dared
not turn
on
a
light
and
have
the
whole
camp
see
their
silhouettes.
“So
you’re
a
beautyspa
chick?”

“Duh.”
She
grinned
for
a
second,
before
her
smile
faded
to
something
more
sweetsad.
“Not
for
the
curls, though.
Those
are
for
real
now.”

“Now?”
An
odd
statement.

Her
gaze
fell
away
from
his,
her
fingers
toying
with
the
vee
in
his
polo
shirt.
“When
I
was
fifteen
I
was diagnosed
with
uterine
cancer.”

What
the
fuck?
That
was
the
last
thing
he’d
expected
to
hear.
“Holy
hell,
Felicia,
I’m
so
sorry.” She
tipped
her
face
up
for
a
quick
one
of
those
sweetsad
smiles.
“Thank
you,
but
it’s
okay
now.
I’m
still here,
right?”
She
averted
her
eyes
again
as
if
looking
at
him
made
the
telling
more
difficult.
“I
lost
all
my
hair in
chemotherapy.
It
used
to
be
this
supersilky
long
hair,
all
the
way
down
my
back,
kinda
swishy.”

“That
sounds
beautiful,
too,
but
no
more
so
than
you
are
now.”
Damn,
he
hoped
that
was
the
right
thing
to say.

“After
chemo,
it
grew
back
in
curly.
I
hated
that
at
first.
It
was
a
constant
reminder
of
all
I’d
lost.
I
looked different
from
me—from
my
family.”
She
sighed
a
heavy
breath
over
his
chest
while
the
rain
tapped
on.

“Now,
it’s
just
a
part
of
me,
because
of
what
happened.
It’s
who
I’ve
become.
More
tangled.
A
little
twisted and
definitely
a
mess
sometimes.”

“Twisted
mess?
I
beg
to
differ.
I
see
an
amazingly
complex
woman
who
has
identified
herself
beyond
the crap
life
threw
her
way
and
has
come
out
a
victorious
Amazon
warrior.”

“I’m
only
five
foot
one
inch.”

“No
one
would
ever
guess.
You’re
a
large
personality,
lady.” She
angled
up
to
kiss
him
gently.
“And
you’re
quite
a
surprisingly
romantic
man.”

“Whatever.”
He
continued
to
play
with
her
hair,
sensing
she
had
more
to
say.

“Since
we
haven’t
been
totally
naked
together,
I
guess
I
should
warn
you
there
are
some
surgical
scars.”

“Not
to
diminish
their
importance,
but
Felicia,
we
all
have
scars.
Some
are
just
more
visible
than
others.”

“I
realize
that
and
I’m
okay
with
it
now.
It’s
just
that
I
haven’t
been
with
a
lot
of
men,
and
I
know
that
some

—okay,
one
in
particular—found
them
unpalatable.”

Felicia
sat
up
and
swung
her
legs
off
the
edge
of
the
cot,
her
back
to
him.
“My
insides
are
fried
from
all
the meds
and
chemo.
I
can’t
have
kids.”

Matt
sat
as
well,
beside
her,
unsure
whether
she
wanted
his
touch
or
distance.
“I’m
so
damn
sorry.”

“I
was,
too,
for
a
long
time,
especially
when
the
love
of
my
life
eventually
took
a
walk
because
of
that.”
Her head
hung
as
if
she
was
studying
her
painted
toenails,
but
he
suspected
she
was
seeing
the
past
instead.

“Then
I
figured
he
must
not
be
the
love
of
my
life
if
it
mattered
to
him,
ya
know?”
She
straightened.
“So
I came
up
with
a
new
purpose.
Family
and
relationships
were
not
for
me.
I
can
make
a
difference
in
other ways.”