Hot Mess (10 page)

“Somehow I doubt that extends to hot sweaty sex with tattooed soldiers.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “And how would you know? For all we are aware, she loves hot sweaty sex. And tattooed soldiers.”

Sam shook his head. “Do not put that image in my mind. Your mother is a fricking goddess who wears pearls to breakfast and gloves to garden parties.”

Georgie was laughing. “Trust me, I could barely say it. But it was funny.”

He couldn’t help but grin too. “Fine, we’ll leave it at that. But what do you want out of life, Georgie? Because your family seems to think you’re up here brooding about your divorce.”

“I am not brooding.” She lay her fork down on the edge of the plate. “I like it here. Or I did until yesterday. But I like what I do, and I really like what we did last night. I’d like more of that. For right now, that’s what I want.”

He was all about more of last night. He shouldn’t be, but he was. And he was damn glad to hear she wanted it too. But he had to be honest with her.

“You have to know that what we did last night was pretty spectacular to me too. It felt great, and I want more of the same. But, Georgie, we can’t do this if you’re thinking there’s more to it than sex.”

Because he had to be honest, even if it cost him another night in her arms.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh for God’s sake. I should have never told you I would have married you if you’d asked me twelve years ago. That was a fantasy, born of my youthful naiveté. I’m not that young or idealistic anymore. I’m capable of meaningless sex, Sam.”

Meaningless? Why didn’t he like that word?

“That’s good to know. Because I have a crazy job, G. I can be here one minute and gone the next, and no idea when I’ll be back again. You don’t want to be a part of that.”

“I’ll decide what I want to be a part of, thanks.” She picked up the fork again and finished the last bite of eggs. “But don’t worry that I’m trying to turn last night into happily ever after. I had my taste of that fantasy, with the big wedding and the
till death do us part
bit, and I know it doesn’t work out.”

For some reason, it saddened him to hear her say that. Georgie was supposed to be the optimistic one. But she’d been burned, and it couldn’t help but affect her.

Her phone rang then and she picked it up to glance at the screen. Then she groaned. “It’s Rick,” she said, looking up at him.

Sam felt a pinch in his chest. Maybe he shouldn’t, but he did.

“Hey,” she said, answering the phone brightly. Sam couldn’t stay and listen to her talk to her brother, so he grabbed his own phone and went outside on the back deck. The day was still early and the sun sparkled on the water. A blue heron stood in the shallows, one foot raised, so still it looked like a statue.

Sam dialed HOT. Kev MacDonald answered. “Hey, Knight Rider. Just planning to call you.”

His heart thumped. “Yeah? Got anything?”

“Kid’s pulled up some video surveillance from the Metro. We’d like to have Dr. Hayes have a look. There’s video of someone talking to Hamilton, but it’s grainy. There’s another shot, far better, of a face that looks like the man she described. But we need to be sure.”

“All right. Want me to bring her there?”

“That’s a negative. Richie’s bringing it out.”

It took Sam a moment to recall that Richie Rich was Matt Girard’s team name. So far, he’d been thinking of him as Captain Girard. In the regular Army, even in a Special Forces battalion like the Rangers, officers were a separate species that did not mix easily with the grunts. But HOT had a different structure, and team camaraderie was critical. While it was appropriate to
yessir
the officers all day long, it wasn’t inappropriate to refer to them by team names either. Matt Girard actively encouraged that kind of relationship with his team, but it would still take Sam some time to get used to thinking of his CO that way.

“We’ll be here. I think shuffleboard starts in an hour, so maybe in between activities we’ll find some time for videos.”

Kev laughed. “Damn, man, you’re gonna fit in here just fine. Call if you need anything.”

“Copy,” Sam said, smiling in spite of himself. He liked these guys a lot. He only hoped they were as good as they were supposed to be. If not, Georgie’s life was forfeit. And that was something he couldn’t let happen. With everything he had in him, he would fight for her, even if he had to risk his own life in the process.

He glanced into the house and saw her holding her cat and talking to it. He started to go back inside, but his phone rang again. Sam bit back a groan at the name on his screen. He had no choice but to answer.

* * *

When Sam came back inside, his expression was quietly grim. Georgeanne’s heart turned over.

“What’s happened?”

He only stared at her. “Rick just called.”

Georgeanne sighed. Dammit. “Rick needs to mind his own business.”

Sam scraped a hand over his head. “You told him you’d found a boyfriend and he could stop worrying about you. That you were having the best sex of your life and Tim was a pimple on the ass of life.”

Georgeanne only felt a mild sense of embarrassment at having her words repeated back to her. She stroked Belle’s soft fur and sighed. “I didn’t want him to worry. And the sex was pretty good, but don’t let it go to your head that I said that. It was a slight exaggeration for effect.”

He looked murderous. “Jesus, Georgie. You just don’t get it, do you? Your family is convinced you’re a princess and only the best will do. Not only that, but they’re also worried about their princess and this new man in her life when the old one was clearly so bad for her.”

Annoyance flared inside her. “Why do you care? I didn’t say a word about you.” She spread her hand to encompass the cottage. “Or about this. I said I met someone and the sex was great. I wanted Rick to get off my back, okay?”

“Yeah, but guess who wants me to check out this new boyfriend of yours?”

Georgeanne rolled her neck to pop out the kinks. “So check him out and give Rick a glowing report. What’s the problem?”

Sam stood there with his fists clutched at his side, his naked chest rippling with tattooed muscle, and a fierce expression on his face. Her core flooded with heat. Oh wow.

“The problem is that I have to lie. I’m expected to investigate the guy you’re sleeping with, who just so happens to be me.”

Georgeanne stood and walked over to him. She tilted her head back to meet his dark, glittering gaze. And then she put her hand on his pectoral, smoothing it down his abdomen and over the ridges of hard muscle. Her core was already wet.

“You aren’t Rick’s lackey, Sam. You have a job to do. Tell him you don’t have time and tell him I’m a grown woman. It’s as simple as that.”

“Simple?”

She was gratified to hear his voice had dropped a few notches. Oh how she felt those sensual tones deep in the heart of her.

“I’m not wearing any panties,” she whispered. “Doesn’t that make it all better?”

“Georgie,” he groaned. “You’re killing me here.”

She reached for his belt buckle. “Oooh, you feel that? The wind is blowing. Blowing my dress right off. Blowing you right where I want you.”

For a minute, she thought he was going to resist her, thought he would set her away and lecture her about her choices. But he didn’t. Instead, he gathered her dress in his fists and lifted it over her head.

“You really aren’t wearing panties.”

“Of course not. I wanted to be ready.”

He frowned as his fingers lightly touched the bruised skin of her hip. “I’d like to maim whoever did this to you.”

“Forget about them. Take care of me. I need you. Can’t you tell?”

He caressed her hot, wet mound, and she thrilled at the sound of satisfaction he made as her skin burned where he touched. She gasped when a finger ghosted over her clit.

“You’re naughty, G. I had no idea.”

She laughed softly. “I know you won’t believe this, Sam—but I didn’t know it either.” She looped her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer to him. “You make me that way.”

His teeth flashed white in his handsome face. “You’re a pretty hot mess yourself, you know that? And I fucking love it.”

He captured her lips, kissing her so deeply and passionately that she melted against him, clinging to him like she had not one ounce of strength left in her body.

His hands roamed over her, grabbed her ass and lifted her up so her head was higher than his. She tried to put her legs around him, but he stopped her, held her high with his arms wrapped beneath her bottom. He carried her like that to the nearest surface—the couch—and then sat her on the back of it. She opened her legs as he dropped to his knees in front of her.

And then he spread her open with his fingers and curled his tongue around her clit until her nipples were tight, aching points and her body was on the edge of explosion. But he didn’t let her finish that way.

Instead, when she was right there, right on the edge of bliss, he stood.

“Sam, I’m going to kill you,” she gasped.

He unzipped his jeans and freed his cock. “Yeah, no doubt about it, babe. You’re already killing me.”

He was so hard and beautiful that she wanted to take him in her mouth and feel him pulsing against her tongue. Instead, he sheathed himself in a condom he produced from somewhere—and then he plunged inside her.

Georgeanne flew apart instantly, her body rippling with her orgasm, a raw scream issuing from her throat as Sam pumped into her harder, drawing out her release in ways she’d never known were possible.

How did he do this to her body? How did he know right where to touch her? How did he know what she needed before she did?

With Tim, sex had been good—sometimes even spectacular. But it did not feel like this—like her entire body was on fire with sensation, like she would die if she didn’t have him inside her, stroking hard into her.

She didn’t need Tim like she needed her next breath.

But she did need Sam that way.
Oh God.

She tried to reason with herself. How could she need him when he’d only just come into her life again? How could she possibly think she needed him? She needed
this
. This thing he did to her. She did not need
him
.

This kind of thing was possible with another lover. Of course it was. Surely she’d had it with Tim too and she just couldn’t remember it.

And yet, as Sam lifted her legs and wrapped them around his torso, she shuddered with the thought of any other man doing this to her. It
wasn’t
possible.

Because there was no other man in the world for her but this one.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“IS THIS THE GUY?” Matt Girard sat at the small table in the kitchen and slid an 8x10 picture toward Georgie. Sam watched her reach for it with trembling fingers, and a wave of protectiveness washed through him. It was so strong he wanted to wrap her up in his embrace and never let her go.

She’d twisted him up inside but good. It was only a couple of hours ago that he’d been standing between her legs, buried deep inside her, the top of his head ready to come right off it felt so damn good. He wanted that again.

And then he wanted her to go back to Texas. He wanted her where she belonged, safe with her family, and he wanted her to find another guy to drive crazy with her hot body and wicked tongue.

He wanted a clear conscience again, but he knew he wasn’t going to get it anytime soon. Yeah, he didn’t really have to tell Rick anything—but he hated lying to his best friend. Rick only wanted what was best for Georgie, and while he knew she was an adult, he’d sounded pretty damn suspicious about the new man in her life.

“I don’t want her hurt, Sam. Just check this guy out if you can, okay? Put the fear of God in him, same as always.”

Same as always
. Yeah, they’d been hell on the guys Georgie had started to “date” when she was fourteen. Oh, she hadn’t been allowed to go on actual dates that early, but there’d been mall meets and football games and picnics where she’d pair off with some teenaged Lothario. And Rick and Sam were right there, frowning and wagging hypocritical fingers since they were also doing their damnedest to corrupt the teenage daughters of Hopeful’s citizenry.

“That’s him,” Georgie said. She glanced up at Sam. He wanted to reach for her, but he didn’t. Matt Girard’s gaze bounced between the two of them for a moment. The dude wasn’t stupid and there were definitely undercurrents in the room.

“All right. That helps. Thanks, Dr. Hayes.”

He started to stand, but Georgie reached out and caught his arm. “I want to know what this is about.”

She sounded fierce now, and Sam felt a swell of pride. And annoyance, since the less she knew, the better.

Matt glanced at Sam as he sat back down. Georgie withdrew her hand and tucked it into her lap.

“I can’t tell you much,” he began. “But this guy is known to associate with certain… elements, shall we say… that are wanted by the US Government.”

“And this is why the military is involved instead of the cops?”