Tripped Up (5 page)

Chapter Four

“Not so fast, darlin’.” Rocketing from zero to sixty in three seconds flat was okay for one-night stands, but regardless of the bravado she wore like a suit of armor, Karen wasn’t a good time girl. The thought gave Trip pause. Take the team on standby, add a sexy, available, willing woman and it equaled fun mattress Olympics. Satisfying a woman in bed had always been important to him, however, emotions had never factored into the equation before. What was so different about this woman?

Later, man.
Trip gave himself a mental shake. Think later. It’s time to get with the stress-melting sex portion of the program.

But he needed another taste of her sweet lips first. “C’mere, darlin’.” Grasping her sumptuous hips, he pulled Karen back down to his lap, turning her to sit sidesaddle, grinning over her girlish shriek of surprise. His desire to sit and make out was a subject for deep contemplation best saved for another time. This uncharacteristic yearning for some up close and personal lip action wouldn’t wait.

Lips sealed together, tongues tangling seductively, Trip became addicted to her sweet butterscotch taste, couldn’t get enough, quickly losing himself in Karen. The warm skin beneath his questing fingertips was silky smooth. He traced her hourglass-shaped torso, dipped into the shallow indention of her navel and cupped her full, heavy breasts.

This time, Karen’s hands were busy, too. She toyed with the sparse matt of hair covering his chest, grazed his nipples, and mapped out each slab of muscle over his abdomen.

Delving across one hip to the juncture of her thigh, he ruffled the triangle of springy hair then slid lower, parting her puffy folds. He watched her face as he slid two fingers into her fluttering entrance. Karen moaned into his mouth, all eager arousal with no sign of soreness.

She was ready.

So was he.

He broke the kiss, both of them panting for breath, and gently pushed Karen to her feet, angling her away from him. Trip placed one hand on her shoulder, the other at the small of her back, guiding her into the position he wanted, bent over the oak coffee table. In a flirty move, she arched her back and thrust her round bottom upward.

Without conscious thought, he landed a swat to one cheek, enjoying the sting in his hand along with the reddened imprint left behind. A surge of possessiveness hit him. He loved seeing his mark on her tender flesh so much that he created a matching impression on the other cheek, biting back a triumphant shout as she moaned and lifted onto her toes, pressing her voluptuous ass into his hands. The unfamiliar possessiveness was yet another phenomenon he’d have to contemplate at some point.

Anxious to please the temptress, Trip landed several firm smacks in rapid succession. From his seated position, he had an unobstructed view of the slick arousal gushing from her pussy and coating her thighs. Karen was with him all the way, enjoying every second of the impromptu erotic spanking.

Fuck, that was hot.

He reached around her and grabbed the box, ripping open a foil packet and dropping the rest heedlessly. “Get a good grip on that table, darlin’,” he warned while sliding on the protective sheath. “Hold on and don’t let go.”

Trip rose and took his own advice by getting a good grip on her hips as he stepped between her feet and nudged them farther apart. One powerful thrust and he filled her, both of them moaning their delight. He didn’t allow either of them a chance to adjust, setting up a rapid, steady pace that quickly threatened to drive him right out of his ever-lovin’ mind.

“So good,” he grunted.

“Ooooh…yes,” Karen panted. “Harder. Faster.”

Harder, faster.
The woman was trying to kill him. But what a way to go.

A creak and groan of stressed wood was all the warning he got before the table scraped forward with the momentum as he plunged his dick into her receptive body. He let go of one hip and sunk his fingers into the thick mass of dark hair at her nape. Step. Thrust. Moan. Repeat. He fucked his way across the room.

Christ, he wouldn’t survive this sexual cha-cha-cha for long. Already his balls drew up tight to his body, prepared to blow. With each forward thrust, her full backside cushioned his hips and his balls slapped against her pussy, creating concussive bursts of pleasure zinging between over sensitized nerve endings.

Step. Thrust. Unbelievable bliss had his fingers tightening in her hair, which, in turn, pulled her head up. “Fuck!” The last thing he wanted was to hurt her.

“Oh, God…yesss. More, Trip.” Her body met his move for move, giving as good as she got.

Earlier, she’d asked if he’d get into rough, edgy sex so he shouldn’t be surprised that she loved it, every second, reveled in the harsh treatment. He didn’t have to hold back, temper his strength or his baser needs. Karen was no delicate flower to wilt under a forceful fucking. No, she was a sexy woman capable of handling what he dished out and then plead for more. No, not plead. Demand! She demanded her due and who was he to deny her anything. Everything.

He moved the hand on her hip forward, over her mound, and framed her clit between two fingers, loving how his name sounded on her strangled cries as he pressed his fingers together and rubbed. He wished he could see the point where their bodies met, knowing he’d be mesmerized by the sight of his cock glistening with her juices disappearing into her body then almost pulling free before slamming back in again.

He wanted to draw out the sheer ecstasy, make it last, but it wasn’t in the cards. Strong muscles clamped down on him, the walls of Karen’s sex rippling against his length as the orgasm shook her entire body. The climax ripped through him, erupting with a gruff shout, leaving him exhausted and weaker than a newborn kitten. How he managed to maneuver them both to the floor without falling was beyond him.

Damn, was he ever in a heap of trouble. Karen amped up his lust, drew him with animal magnetism that refused to let go when his body reached satiation. The center of his chest ached and not from physical exertion. She had a firm hold of the brainless organ that eagerly followed where she led.

****

The hideous sound of a man’s voice screeching about crossing lines jerked Karen awake. “What…huh?”

Muscles aching, she pushed her tangled hair out of her face, determined to find the source of her agony and destroy it by any means necessary.

The heated press of hard flesh against her bare skin jolted her completely awake. “Oh hackers in heaven,” she whispered, looking down at the snoring SEAL next to her in bed. “I guess I really didn’t dream you up.”

Then came the so-called music that made her ears want to bleed. Finally, comprehension slid through her sex-sated, sleep-deprived mind.

“Phone, Trip,” she muttered before giving into the lure of the covers. Happily she nestled her head into the pillow, bent one knee, and closed her eyes waiting for sleep to drag her under once more.

Muttered curses floated to her ears as her lover stumbled from the bed, almost dragging the covers with him until Karen snarled and yanked the sleep warmed material back.

Now floating in hazy sleepiness, she vaguely wondered who would be calling so early on a Saturday morning. Surely all Trip’s various friends knew he’d gotten in late. More importantly his military buddies were involved with women, involved like serious commitment. Just like Syndra and Ice, Alexa and Jagger.

Reality and the glaring Florida sun slapped her into full wakefulness.

“The wedding,” she gasped.

“Fuck, the wedding.” Trip whirled around to face her while tossing his phone on top of the antique dresser. “That was Ice, and he’s not real pleased with our no-show. He said Alexa’s been trying to reach you since seven this morning. Syn since six.”

“Oh, sweet baby bottoms, I’m so screwed.” Past caring about modesty and sore muscles, Karen tossed the covers aside and hurried from the bed. “Give me thirty minutes to grab a shower and my dress. I’ll meet you at the elevator.” She snatched up the remnants of her clothes and hustled out the door. “Don’t forget to grab your dress uniform,” she shouted over her shoulder.

Back in the sanity and safety of her apartment, surrounded by the security of her own things, Karen allowed the mask to drop, at least a little.

“What the hell have I done?” she asked her well-fucked image in the bathroom mirror. “Did I make the biggest mistake of my life, or will it turn out to be the best thing to ever happen to me?”

Ignoring the pang in her heart at the thought of never seeing Trip again, Karen hustled through her shower. While she’d love nothing more than wallowing in the hot water and letting the massager do exactly what it was designed for, she couldn’t afford to put her needs first. Today was all about Syn and Ice. No way would she take the chance of letting her boss and friend down. Syn had given her a chance when no one else would. She owed her.

Moving quickly, Karen grabbed the long garment bag holding her bridesmaid dress, her make-up tote, and finally the most important, in her mind, the two black bags containing Syn’s cameras. She set everything on the couch, ready to go before rushing back to her bedroom and throwing on the first items she laid her fingers on. A light sweat suit would have been acceptable anywhere in the U.S. except Florida.

“Damn,” she cursed before tugging the material up and over her head. She’d planned on having a laundry night last night, but Trip’s arrival threw her well-ordered plans out of whack.

There’d be sweat coating her body by the time she arrived, but a quick shower in the bride’s reserved room would take care of any smell issues. After stuffing her feet into her favorite pair of worn sneakers, Karen glanced at her watch, gasped at the lateness of the hour, and loaded herself up like a pack mule.

Better to overload now than to waste time running back and forth to the car. Besides she’d gotten used to weighing down her arms when she’d lived on the third floor of a walk up outside Houston. Talk about hot and nasty. She shuddered remembering the hundreds of trips she’d taken up and down those cheaply carpeted stairs.

****

The moment the car door slammed, sexual tension rippled through the air. How the hell would he get through the next five or six hours without being able to touch Karen? She’d turned into an addiction more tempting than any nighttime parachute jump.

Was this what Jagger felt when he saw Alexa in the airport? This feeling of connection, sense of rightness, of coming home. Even if he had felt it before, he was pretty sure he would have shrugged it off, convincing himself he could find the same with any woman. Now he knew differently. This thing with Karen was unique, special. Rare.

Karen fit him like a puzzle piece, everything about them just matched up. Crazy thoughts for a man who never thought to settle down, never dreamed of a life beyond his SEAL team.

While he had no plans to retire anytime soon, Trip wanted his future to include the gorgeous, funny, smart, curvy goddess sitting next to him.

“Hey, water boy, what’s got you so quiet?”

Jerked out of his rosy looking future, Trip darted a quick look to the side before turning his attention back to the road. “Just wondering what little naughty piece of silk and lace you’ll be teasing me with later.”

Her husky laugh sent shivers along his spine. “How do you know I’ll have on anything at all underneath my dress? Maybe I forgot to slip my underwear in the bag since we were running so late.”

His knuckles went white on the steering wheel at the thought of dancing with Karen, no barriers between him and hot sleek wetness of her pussy. “It’s not right to cock tease a man on the edge,” he warned his passenger.

“It’s not teasing if I promise to follow through.”

“Damn it, woman,” he cursed, trying to shove temptation from his mind. A task made harder by the sweet scent of her desire filling the air. “It’s not exactly polite to walk into a wedding with a hard-on. People might get the wrong idea.”

“Well, that bad boy would be hard to miss being so big and all,” she practically purred. “And the wrong idea about what?”

“Walking into the wedding with a stiffie might give some of Ice’s guests the idea I’ve got the hots for the bride. A little awkward for everyone, don’t you think?”

She went still at his words. “You’ve got the hots for Syn?”

He glanced at her, expecting to see a grin, but her full lips were pressed into a tight line. “Ha ha, so not funny, Karen.”

He stole another glance and saw she didn’t share in his lame attempt at humor. “Really? You’re seriously asking me if I’ve got the hots for your business partner. The same partner who is marrying one of my best friends in less than an hour? That’s the woman you’re accusing me of wanting to fuck?”

Her stubborn little chin jutted out. “I notice you didn’t answer my question.”

Slapping a hand against the wheel, Trip sucked in several gulps of air. Losing his temper wouldn’t solve anything other than to destroy what little time they had left together. But, the rational part of his brain piped in. Do you really want to be with a woman who doesn’t trust you?

“I’ve never been interested in your partner, Karen. I’m sure she’s a lovely woman and all, but she’s Ice’s woman. And,” he added in a sarcastic tone, “I’ve been a little busy fucking your brains out to even think of another woman.”

“Then why say people will get the wrong idea?”

Elephants had nothing on his lady, Trip thought with exasperated amusement as his anger slowly faded.

“Why do you care?” The words were meant to test the depth of her feelings because what he heard sounded a lot like jealousy.

Staring straight ahead, dark sunglasses covering her eyes, Karen pursed her lips tightly. After several long, tense moments she finally responded. “I don’t care, not really. I just don’t want to be the laughing stock at the wedding. You know, you’re pity date, sympathy fuck. I may not be model perfect but I still have pride like any other woman.”

“Screw this,” Trip ground out through gritted teeth. A quick check in the mirrors and he left the freeway. An empty warehouse sat to their right and that’s where he pulled in. There were too many things going on, things said and unsaid, and he refused to risk their lives while multitasking. Yeah, he’d be a little late for Ice’s deal, but once Trip explained he knew the team would understand.