Hell Yeah!: Gun Shy (Kindle Worlds Novella) (8 page)

“You couldn’t save him. Big difference. But the point is, you tried. You put yourself in harm’s way to save another. That says a lot about a man.” Their gazes locked. Some weird understanding passed between them. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but it made him feel…redeemed. At least a little.

She broke the connection with a light laugh. “That thigh is all knotted. You need to come and see me sometime. I think I can help.”

“She’s a great masseuse,” Joseph said, coming around the table with Melissa. Between the two of them, they had four glasses of lemonade.

Awesome.

He would much rather have had a whisky. But the drink was sweet and delicious and quenched his thirst.

“Didn’t the doctors at the VA recommend regular physical therapy?” Cady asked.

“Um, yeah.”

“But you ignored them.” Not a question.

Andrew glanced around the circle. “I…ah. I’ve been busy.”

“Honestly.” Cady threw up her hands. “You men are all the same.” For some reason she frowned at Joseph who shrugged. She pulled out a card and handed it to Andrew. “Call me. I can help you with the pain and give you more functionality.”

“I—”

“No. No backtalk.” Cady winked. “Call me.” She turned her attention to Melissa. “Make sure he does.”

“I will.” Melissa took the seat beside him and frowned at him. “You should have told me you were in pain.”

Seriously? He was always in pain of some kind. “I will,” he promised, because it seemed to be what she wanted.

Her grin was his reward. “Excellent. Now, what do you say we go and eat all the McCoys’ food?”

And they did.

Chapter Nine

“Do you remember what you said?”

It was late. Andrew was driving Melissa home after a truly wonderful evening with the McCoys. The car was dark, but the lights from the dash illuminated her face.

“I, ah, said a lot of things.”

She grinned at him. “Don’t make this harder than it is.”

“It would help if I knew what
this
was.”

“Do you remember what you said…about me taking the lead?”

He stilled. Nearly swallowed his tongue.

Because her meaning filtered into his brain.

And then there was her hand, skating across his thigh. Yeah. There was that too.

“Melissa?”

“I just wanted to let you know…I’m ready for more.”

Holy shit. His cock was hard in a breath. “I…ah…what?”

“You heard me.”

“You do realize I’m driving?”

She wrinkled her brow. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“It does if I’m about to drive off the road.”

Her chuckle filled the car. “I thought I should say something before we pass your turn-off.”

“My turn-off?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Are you saying…?” Why was his throat so dry? “Are you saying you would like to come home with me tonight?”

“You did get rid of that nasty cot.”

“Technically, I still have it. It’s in the barn.”

“Good to know. But what I meant is, you have a nice, big, comfortable bed.”

“I didn’t wash the sheets.”

For some reason she squinted her eyes really tight. “Are you saying you don’t want me to come home with you?”

“No! Hell, no!” Shit. He wanted nothing more. “I was just warning you.”

“Hmm. Point taken. Anything else you want to warn me about?”

“I have two vicious guard dogs.”

“I bet I can win them over with bologna.”

“Do I have bologna?”

“You do. In the fridge.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good.”

Yeah. It was lame banter, but it was necessary. Without it, his brain might actually explode.

Because Melissa Divine wanted to come home with him. Tonight.

After all this waiting, she was ready.

After all this waiting, he was definitely ready.

He could only hope he wasn’t too ready, or this long awaited seduction would be over before it began.

She was nervous as hell as she stepped over the threshold into his house. It was lovely and welcoming, thanks to all the work they’d done together, but as brave as she was trying to be, she was scared to death.

She hadn’t been with a man other than Baron, and that hadn’t worked out well.

She hadn’t even planned on taking another lover. Like, ever.

But Andrew made her want that connection, that intimacy, that partnership.

She could only hope her instincts were right. That they would be good together.

Cady certainly thought so, and Cady was nearly always right.

But as much as she trusted her friend’s judgement, this decision was all hers.

She’d thought about it for days. Longer.

The fact of the matter was, she trusted Andrew. She looked into his eyes and she trusted him.

Beyond that, she wanted him.

She wanted to know what it would be like with a man like him.

She was brave enough to give it a try, but she was still nervous.

Toto and Sadie met them at the door, which helped shatter the anxiety. As the dogs danced around them, Melissa couldn’t help but laugh. They finally made their way through the blockade and Andy led the way to the kitchen and scooped food into their doggy dishes, which distracted them immediately.

He gave Sadie a pat and then stood; his gaze locked with hers.

The tension in the room edged up a million notches.

Melissa swallowed and forced a smile.

He stepped closer, and closer still. Then he cupped her cheek. There was nothing commanding about the gesture, gentle as it was, but it held her captive.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Sure. I’m great.”

“You’re shaking.” He stroked her with a thumb.

She sucked in a deep breath and steeled her spine. “I’m fine.”

He tipped his head to the side and studied her. “You sure?”

“Of course. I… May I have a drink?” she asked.

His lips tightened. “Do you need one?”

“I’m a little nervous.”

“Ah, baby.” He dropped his hand. She hated that he dropped his hand. “Why?”

“I’ve just…never done this before.”

He eyed her curiously.

“I mean, gone to bed with a man who’s not my husband.”

“I, ah, see.” He stepped back. “We can wait. If you want.”

“Waiting would only make me more nervous. Can I have that drink?”

She hated that he turned away. “As a matter of course, I don’t make love to women who’ve been drinking.”

“Just one drink?”

He headed for a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of Scotch and two glasses, but he poured out less than a sip. And then he shot her a grin.

It was the grin that did her in. Warm, gentle, understanding.

It was that grin that washed away her reluctance.

He was the man she chose. He was the man her heart and soul told her she wanted.

Could she be wrong?

Absolutely.

There was that risk in every decision in every day of living.

There was no shame in the fear.

Running from it was the weakness.

She did not run.

She took a step toward him. And another. She went up on her tiptoes, cupped his nape in her trembling hand, and she kissed him.

His lips were mobile beneath hers and warm, but he made no other move. She had to take his hand and set it on her hip before he touched her. But once she had issued that subtle invitation, he didn’t require more.

He turned her around and braced her against the kitchen counter and deepened the kiss, sending glory and delight through her body. She reveled in the sensation of his mouth trailing hotly over her cheek and down to the crook of her neck, where he nibbled at the sensitive skin there.

Ribbons of pleasure skittered over her nerves and she pressed against him, trying desperately to get closer. His scent surrounded her, filling her nostrils, dizzying her mind. Filling her with an irresistible urge to taste him as well.

Madly, voraciously, they ate at each other, licking, lapping, nipping all exposed skin and then, in a frenetic rush, exposing more. In her frenzy, she popped the buttons off his shirt. They skittered all over the floor, but neither of them noticed or cared. They also ignored the dogs’ amusement with the new toys.

As buttons and toenails clattered on the linoleum, Andrew murmured something unintelligible and walked her backwards into the room off the kitchen.

Thank God the room was off the kitchen.

She didn’t think she had the wherewithal to make it up the stairs.

Her body was afire, liquid and languid—as though an angry volcano bubbled at her core.

Andrew seemed equally shaken. His hands shook as he removed her blouse. His eyes were wide, red-rimmed, as he stared at her breasts, cupped in nothing but lace.

“God,” he sighed. “God.” Then he whipped around and kicked the door closed with his boot.

She laughed. “Why did you do that?”

“The dogs sleep with me sometimes. At the moment I’d prefer they not join us.”

“Excellent idea.”

He began madly unfastening her jeans, and she worked on his. There was no sound other than their panted breaths, and his curses when he couldn’t pull his pants off over his boots.

Then, once they were both bare—but for their underwear which, to be truthful, didn’t cover much—they stood and stared at each other.

The magnificence of his body, the perfection of his form, bemused her. If her hunger had not been overpowering, she could have stared at him forever. His chest was broad and covered with dark hair, his abs were cut and muscles bunched in his arms. Even the scars on his side fascinated her. She couldn’t even qualify how she felt about that enormous bulge in his tighty-whities. But it made her mouth water.

That was nothing to the expression on his face. Hard. Tight. Intent.

His nostrils flared as he savaged her with his stare. Then their gazes met. He licked his lips. Heat sluiced through her.

“Andrew.” A whisper.

A muscle bunched in his cheek. “Melissa.”

God, she wanted him to rush her, grab her, take her.

But he didn’t move.

He didn’t move and, as the moments ticked by, panic flared. Why didn’t he…?

And then she realized. She knew.

He was waiting for her to make the first move.

Annoyance flickered but then was quickly subsumed by a wicked inclination.

Oh, he wanted her to make the first move, did he?

She bit back her smile and sauntered toward him. He watched her like a predator as she circled him, surveying his perfection. She slowly lifted a finger and trailed it over his chest, his muscular bicep, the hint of a shadow above the band of his briefs.

He sucked in a breath. “Jesus, Mel.”

Oh, she loved the desperation in his tone. The fact that he was drawn as tightly as a bowstring, and quivering as well.

“I can tell you work out,” she murmured in what she hoped was a seductive voice.

“Melissa…”

Aw, it was cute the way he tried to be all ominous.

Men in their underwear were rarely intimidating.

But his glower did send a shiver through her. In a good way.

“What would you like me to do?” she said.

His frown darkened. “This is your show,” he breathed.

“Really?” Oh, she liked that idea. She liked it a lot. She took his hand and led him to the bed. Relief washed over his features, but when she pushed him down and knelt before him, his eyes widened.

“What are you doing?’ he wailed.

She smiled up at him and began slowly rolling his underwear down. His cock sprang free and captured her attention. When she licked her lips, he groaned. Then, when she bent her head, he made a sound in the back of his throat, something like a whimper.

But she ignored it.

Because she was going to do something she’d wanted to do since the moment she’d set eyes on him.

She was going to taste him.

Holy God in heaven above.

How the hell was he supposed to survive this?

Melissa before him, on her knees. Breathing on his cock?

Fucking breathing on it.

He wanted nothing more than to lay her back on the bed and fill her, fuck her. Take everything she had and give it all back.

If she continued in this direction, he would lose it.

But hell. When she fisted his cock and ran her tongue over the thick vein along its length, he couldn’t stop her. It was too fantastic. Too sweet.

With a moan, she lapped at the bead of pre-cum pearling on the tip and he fisted his covers to keep himself from responding as nature intended. When she sucked him in, his eyes rolled back in his head and he groaned.

What had he done?

What had he ever done to deserve such pleasure?

Such torment?

For it was torment. The woman was killing him.

Once she’d found her ease with this, found her rhythm, she began exploring.

God help him.

She lipped and lapped and fucking nibbled at him, all the while stroking his cock, cupping his balls, urging him to greater and greater insanity.

Damn, she seemed to be enjoying herself, moaning and murmuring and slurping away.

Her enthusiasm nearly blinded him.

Pressure grew within his body, like a clock being wound too tight. His vision blurred. His heart thrummed. He tightened his muscles to keep from exploding.

He didn’t want to come. He wanted to make love to her tonight. Slowly. Leisurely. At length.

She seemed determined to lead him precipitously to the cliff and then push him off.

“Melissa.” A warning.

She ignored him.

“Melissa. Please.” He uncurled his fingers and set his hand on the top of her head, brutally squashing the urge to control her movements. “I’m losing it.”

She released him with a wet
plop
, grinned at him and tightened her hold. Without a word, she went back to work, sucking him more furiously than before. To his horror, he felt his leash slipping.