Blazing Bedtime Stories (14 page)

“Would you…”

He kissed the words away again, not ending the deep mating of their mouths until he had to back away to finish yanking his shirt off. Her cool hands immediately began to stroke his chest, to toy with his nipples, and she leaned forward to lightly bite the skin above his collarbone.

When she reached for his belt, he pushed her hands away and unfastened it himself, then unsnapped his jeans. It had been a long time since he’d had sex. A very long time. And even though he told himself he would hold back and make love to her until she begged
him to join her in another climax, he knew he was no damned sex robot. Holding himself together long enough to do a decent job of it wouldn’t be easy if she wrapped those soft, greedy hands of hers around his rigid cock.

Or if she used her…

“Hell,
cher,
” he muttered, the words exploding from his vocal cords as she suddenly dropped to her knees in front of him. Stunned, he could only watch as she tugged his jeans down, the tips of her fingers traipsing over the erection straining against his shorts.

When she replaced those fingers with her warm mouth, he had to grab the wooden bedpost. The earth seemed to sway beneath his feet. As far as he knew, there was no giant out there making it happen. Just sweet, sultry Scarlett Templeton whose hot breaths sifted through the cotton to increase his insanity.

“Let me,” she begged, as if they were long-time lovers used to such intimacies. As if right now, nothing was off-limits, nothing too much to ask or too much to take.

He’d never known a woman to be so bold, so ravenous about taking what she wanted. And he had no strength to resist her.

When she eased the cotton down and out of the way, then pressed her lips against the head of his shaft, he could only reach down and twine his hands in her soft, blond hair. His breaths tripped over themselves to leave his body as she spread her warm tongue around the tip of his cock, then opened her mouth wider to suck an inch or two of him inside.

Blissful.

“Mmm,” she groaned. Wrapping her hand around him, she squeezed and caressed him, driving him to insanity when that soft hand slid further to cup him.

Another caress, a deep suck, and he felt on the verge of coming right into her mouth. Which might be incredibly satisfying, but wasn’t going to fulfill his need to drive her out of her everloving mind.

With gentle force, he tugged her away, his hands still wrapped in her hair. She glanced up at him, a pout on those shiny lips, but he shook his head and grabbed her shoulders to help her up. No sooner had she reached her feet before he pushed her back onto the bed.

“Hunter,” she whispered hoarsely, “I totally forgot—we didn’t talk about protection.”

Damn.

“I get contraceptive shots every three months,” she said, and quickly added, “and, uh, I have no other health problems.”

“Ditto.”

So relieved he wanted to kiss the ground, he settled for kneeling beside the bed…and kissing
her.
This time, he didn’t deny himself the pleasure of her lush breasts. Cupping them in his hands, he lifted one nipple to his mouth while toying with the other, rolling it between his fingers, squeezing and plucking her into near frenzy. She gasped as he thoroughly laved her, her head rolling back and forth on the pillow.

“You are like a fantasy come to life,” he admitted gruffly as he pulled away to watch her.

She didn’t reply, but merely reached for his hand, pushing it down her front in one long, smooth stroke—until their joined fingers reached that soft nest of hair and slid into it.

“Oh, yes,” she groaned, thrusting upward, showing him what she liked, where she wanted it.

As if he’d needed the instruction.

Gently pushing her hand out of the way, Hunter slid his index finger against her taut clit, playing it like a pretty little bell until she was positively ringing. She thrust up for more, panting and almost cooing as he took her higher.

Needing to feel even more—and wanting to drive her even wilder before allowing her another climax—he moved his hand, slipping his fingers into the drenched lips of her sex. She was steamy-hot, silky-smooth and beautifully tight. He didn’t know who groaned louder at the realization that she was literally dripping with want.

“Take me, Hunter.”

He could have dragged things out, built her to another climax, but he suddenly needed to be inside her so badly, he just couldn’t wait. Ripping off the rest of his clothes, he climbed onto her, settling between her silky thighs. They wrapped tightly around him, clenching his hips, and she thrust upward in silent demand.

He hesitated in pure anticipation. Knowing bliss was only an inch away, he savored the delay, bending to kiss her deeply. Their tongues mated as he began a slow slide into her warm body.

“Oh, yes,” she mumbled against his lips. She lifted up, welcoming him, enveloping him in all her wet heat.

He meant to take it slowly, but when she clenched her legs tighter and arched harder, he had to thrust deep, making a place for himself inside her.

Scarlett cried out. He instantly paused. “You okay?”

“Don’t stop.” She thrust her hands into his hair, twining it around her fingers. “Don’t you dare stop.”

He grinned down at her, loving the sparkle in her eyes and the flush of pleasure on her face. “Wouldn’t dream of it,
cher.
”

The endearment brought another smile, then whispers and smiles gave way to deep, hungry kisses that mimicked the deep, hungry movements of their bodies. Scarlett matched him thrust for thrust, taking everything he had to give her, until, finally, when he knew he wouldn’t be able to hang on more than a few seconds, he reached down between their bodies, stroking her clit. “Let’s go together this time,” he said, feeling her clench even tighter as he caressed her inside and out.

“You got it,” she said on a long, deep groan. Then she gasped, buried her face in his throat and together they rode out their deep, shattering orgasms.

O
NCE AGAIN
,
Scarlett was having the loveliest dream.

This time, though, she was conscious enough to acknowledge it wasn’t a dream. She really was lying naked in an incredibly comfortable bed, rubbing her bare skin against the silky sheets.

The only thing she had to think about for a moment was whether she’d imagined the incredible lovemaking that had taken up a good bit of the afternoon or not.

The warm, hard body in the bed beside her said
not.

“Mmm,” she groaned, without opening her eyes. Reality had been so much better than anything she’d ever dreamed about. Hunter had given her more physical pleasure than she had known it was possible to experience. Twice.

She tucked in closer to him, wanting more of the intimacy that seemed so natural between them, and which she’d never felt before. He might have been a stranger to her a short time ago, but physically, she already somehow felt connected to him.

It wasn’t just the amazing sex. The draw went deeper than chemistry. The soft whispers and quiet conversation they’d shared between bouts of lovemaking still warmed her. Maybe it was because of how safe she felt with him, how much she enjoyed teasing him into one of those rare smiles. Maybe because he wouldn’t let her get away with too much and she wouldn’t let him glower his way out of anything.

They had something. Something nice. Something she wanted more of.

More sex would be good, too. God, she was a glutton. Dying of orgasm, wouldn’t that read well in her obit? Yet as far as deaths went, it would have to be pretty high up on the list of best ways to go.

Lifting a bare thigh, she slid it over his legs. But instead of
warm male skin, she felt rough fabric. He’d apparently gotten up and got dressed at some point, then came back to bed. She’d been so exhausted, she’d fallen into a deep sleep and hadn’t even noticed. “Why did you bother?” She ran a hand lazily down his chest. “I’m just going to rip your clothes off again.”

Repeating that as boldly as possible, she moved her hand down to cover the crotch of his jeans, cupping the massive bulge there.
Oh, yeah
. Their sex drives were definitely compatible.

“You might have to carry me out of here the way you carried me in,” she said as she caressed and toyed with him. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to bring my legs together after today.”

He chuckled, the sound making his chest rumble a little.

Yawning, she murmured, “What time is it?” She no longer felt warmth from the streaks of sunlight that had been pouring around the edges of that heavy window blanket earlier. And even without opening her eyes, she could tell the room was dark.

Or maybe that was because her face was buried in the neck of her sexy Cajun lover.

Mmm. Wanting to taste him again, she pressed her mouth to the hollow of his strong throat, feeling the rhythmic beat of his pulse against her lips. The scrape of his grizzled jaw against her skin made her shiver, just as it had when it had so deliciously brushed against her inner thighs a little while ago.

Now, though, it felt particularly rough, as if his five-o’clock-shadow had just struck midnight. She might go home reddened and sore. Well, actually, she already knew she was going home wonderfully sore, for different—delightful—reasons.

“You need a shave.”

Rubbing her cheek against his jaw, she realized something. He wasn’t grizzled. He was almost bearded. And unless he was some kind of Chia Pet who sprouted when water was poured on him, she had no idea how that could have happened in a few hours.

Her heart skipped a beat and her breath turned to a solid lump in the middle of her throat. She tried to swallow it down, willing her rising panic away, without any luck.

What if this isn’t Hunter?

You’re crazy.

But what if she wasn’t crazy?

Finding some deep well of courage, she slowly lifted her eyelids. She first noticed the swarthiness of his skin, the roughness of the thick shirt covering his enormous shoulders. Hunter was a big guy, but she didn’t remember his shoulders being twice as wide as her own.

Tilting her head back a little more, she spied that beard. Not golden, as she’d expect Hunter’s to be. Instead, it was dark, almost black.

Oh, God. She was in serious trouble.

Inch by inch, her gaze moved up, taking in the strong nose, the slashing cheekbones, the thick, almost jet-black hair hanging in disarray around his shoulders.

And the blazing brownish-black eyes staring down at her.

“You,” she whispered.

It was the man she’d seen in the woods. The killer. Though now, up close, he looked just like a dark, swarthy man. Not…anything else. But that was still frightening enough to stop her heart.

Scarlett was wrapped around a psycho murderer. Not only that, she had a handful of his most male part, which was hard enough to tell her exactly how he’d reacted to their encounter.

She jerked and threw herself backward. “Don’t touch me.”

“You were doing all the touching,” he said, his voice husky. Not melodic like Hunter’s, more gruff. “Not that I minded.”

Scarlett felt her face redden, wondering why the guy hadn’t pulled out his ax or something. Or just killed her in her sleep.

Inching back, she reached the edge of the bed and slid off it, falling onto the floor. Scrabbling for the blanket, she tugged it down to cover herself. “He’ll kill you.”

“No he won’t.”

The man’s calm confidence confused her. He didn’t sound the least bit concerned. And suddenly, her fear for Hunter was even greater than her fear for herself. Where was he? How could this stranger be so sure he wasn’t in danger.

Oh, God. What if he’d already done something to Hunter?

Staying low, she began to scoot along the floor toward the door. But she hadn’t gone far when his big, booted feet came off the bed and landed on the blanket, trapping her.

Earlier, she’d told Hunter she wouldn’t run bare-assed through the woods. Now, faced with the alternative, the idea wasn’t without merit.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“What do you want?” she whispered, edging a little further—as far as she could go without losing the blanket completely.

“I just want to talk.”

Her eyes widened. “You want to talk to me?”

“Hell, no, if I had the time, talking would be the
last
thing I’d want to do with you.” His eyes narrowed as he raked a thorough stare over her, from the top of her tousled head down to her bare thighs, no longer covered by the blanket. The heat in those eyes left no doubt about what he meant.

Part of her wondered why he hadn’t just done it—taken advantage of her while she was asleep and naked beside him in the bed. She wouldn’t have even realized it, not at first anyway.

The thought that she could so easily have been raped made a long shudder roll through her body.

“I want to talk to
him
.”

The shudder passed as she sighed in relief. Wanting to talk to Hunter meant this crazy guy hadn’t killed him already. “He’s not going to be much in the mood for talking if he comes back here and finds you attacking me.”

He put his hands up, palms out. “I haven’t laid a finger on you. Your hands and mouth were doing all the traveling.”

Her jaw stiffened in angry embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, Red,” he whispered, his eyes glittering in the semi-darkness. “I won’t tell him.”

“My hair’s not red.”

Those dark, knowing eyes dropped to her bare shoulders. “Your skin is. You two have been having quite a time today.”

“Pig.”

“Wrong species.”

She glared. “You better get out of here. He drove to town to get the cops. They’ll be here any minute.”

To her surprise, he began to laugh. Softly at first, then louder, as if she’d genuinely amused him. Bastard.

Sick of sitting at his feet staring up at the man like some helpless harem girl, she tugged at the blanket. He stepped off it, allowing her to rise to her feet. She tucked the blanket around herself, then lifted her chin in defiance. “I mean it. Go. I think I hear a siren.”

“You have no idea where you are, do you?”

“Of course I do. I’m in a cabin in Louisiana, and we’re only a few miles from the closest police station.” She wasn’t sure there was a police presence in the small town where Granny lived, but hopefully he didn’t know that.

A smile appeared on that mouth again. “You really don’t know. He brought you over and didn’t tell you.”

“Over where?” she snapped, feeling left out of a big joke.

He rubbed a hand on his lean jaw. He had big hands. Dark and strong-looking, with more hair at the knuckle than she was used to seeing. “I don’t quite know how to say it.”

“
Now
would be good.”

“You’re not in Louisiana. You’re far,
far
away from there.”

She glared. “Forget it. I don’t want to hear your lies.”

“Not lies, Red. You’re in a place that doesn’t exist on any map. I guess the only way to say it is, uh, my brother brought you over the rainbow.”

She didn’t know which shocked her more. The idea that this man was crazy enough to think they’d flown here over some rainbow. Or his claim that he was Hunter’s brother.

Then she remembered the smile, and wondered. Could the killer Hunter Thibodeaux was chasing be his own sibling? There was a hint of a resemblance…it could it be possible.

But as for the rest? Well, it only confirmed one thing. She was trapped with a complete madman.

H
UNTER HEARD
voices as he returned, carrying the bucket of spring water to resupply the cabin. He’d pictured coming back and warming it up so Scarlett could have another bath while he went out hunting tonight.

He’d never imagined coming back to find Lucas with the innocent woman Hunter had dragged into their private struggle.

Moving quietly, he put the pail down, tugging his weapon from its holster on his hip, thankful he wasn’t stupid enough to have left without it. He did not want bullets flying. Not just because Scarlett could get hurt, but because, deep down, he didn’t know if he had it in him to kill his half-brother.

You didn’t come here to kill him. You came to arrest him.

Only Lucas wouldn’t let himself be arrested easily.

He considered his options, finally realizing the pair inside stood close to the door, meaning they were not close to the window. He crept toward it silently, knowing Lucas would sense him if he made the slightest sound. Reaching the square opening, he pushed the lower corner of the blanket in.

And found himself face-to-face with his brother.

“You should have just come in the front door,” Lucas said. “I smelled you five minutes ago.”

“Hunter!” Scarlett rushed toward the window, stumbling a little on the long blanket wrapped around her naked body.

“If you touched her, I’ll kill you,” he growled as he climbed inside. He reached for Scarlett and pulled her behind him, blocking her with his body.

“I didn’t touch her. We were just having a conversation.”

His fingers still wrapped around the grip of his 9 mm, Hunter peered through the near-darkness, trying to see what kind of weapon Lucas was holding. He wouldn’t come in here unarmed. The man was far too good for that.

“I have something for you.”

Hunter waited. When Lucas reached into a knapsack on the table, he snapped, “Keep your hands where I can see them.”

“If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it as you climbed into the window, little brother.”

“You know I have to take you back.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You might have felt justified, but you killed two men.”

“Again. I don’t think so.” Lucas pulled a thick sheaf of papers from the knapsack and stepped closer, appearing unconcerned about the gun in Hunter’s hand. Nor did he seem angry. “I didn’t kill them. They deserved it, but I didn’t do it. See for yourself.”

Hunter reached out and took the pages. Not certain what he was looking at right away, he soon realized they were black-and-white snapshots, like those taken from a surveillance camera. And visible in the frame was Colin Frakes, his former partner.

“It was taken by a liquor-store camera an hour before Frakes was killed,” Lucas said. “Look in the upper left corner.”

He did. And stiffened in shock at the sight of another familiar face. “Harry Stafford?” Stafford was one of the other detec
tives…the one Lucas had not caught up with during his deadly spree last month. The one who was still alive out there somewhere.

Not understanding, he looked up at his half-brother. “But he was living in Arizona, nowhere near Frakes. They split up once they knew you were after them. I figured he went deep into hiding when he realized you’d tracked down the others.”

“Wrong.
Stafford
killed Frakes.”

Hunter waited for the rest.

“Look at the next shots—red-light cams a block from the second victim’s apartment, taken within twenty minutes of his murder. See who was there?”

Hunter flipped the pages and saw exactly what Lucas had told him he would, including a time-stamp from the police camera. Harry Stafford had
indeed
been close to each man just before their deaths. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Nobody to testify against him? He had to have known one of us would catch up with him sooner or later.”

One of us. “You didn’t kill them,” he muttered.

Lucas shook his head once, his eyes never shifting, visibly resolute and certain. “Can’t say I wouldn’t have, if I’d gotten there first,” he said, sounding cavalier. “But I didn’t set out to. I wanted to bring them back here. I know what kind of easy justice system you’ve got over there. No way was I going to let them sit in jail for a few decades getting fat.” His voice shook and his body tensed as he added, “Not after what they did.”