Wicked All Night (7 page)

As if she wanted to . . .

Then he reared back and thrust into her roughly, deeper, working against the swollen, constricting flesh of her sex. But his fingers had worked some magic. The discomfort was gone.

He groaned. “That's right. That's good. Let me in.”

Wasn't he already in?

Lifting her hips up to him, Decker pressed down into her body with another shallow stroke. Then he withdrew slowly. The friction of his flesh over nerve endings she hadn't known she possessed caused her to cry out.

“I'm getting deeper, beautiful. Yes . . . You're so sweet and tight. I'm going to make you come for me. You want that. I want to feel it. Just take all of me.”

She still hadn't?

Rachel moaned. Decker ground into her clit again with his hard length, then shifted down, rooting at her opening once more. With one heavy push, he grunted, then seared his way into her body, up, up, up, filling every corner and recess of her with his thick possession, stretching her almost beyond her limit.

Mercy . . .

He rubbed a sensitive spot so deep inside her that Rachel felt herself swell even more. He drew back and kindled all those nerves again. And again. The flames licking her body turned incendiary. She bucked under him, cried out for him, clenched her fists and begged. His bared teeth and determined face told her that nothing would stop him from giving this pleasure to her.

Holy cow!
Rachel had known he would be every bit as good as her fantasies, but never had she imagined this sort of ecstasy.

Relentlessly, he pushed in and out of her, hitting that spot so deep and shocking with every last plunge. She closed her eyes, struggling to breathe. Her thighs tightened. She wanted her arms around him, but he held her pinned to the bed and drove into her again and again.

“Open your eyes.”

She squeezed them even more tightly shut, so focused on the sensations that stacked on top of her restraint, crushing it. Her clit burned. He shocked the end of her passage with every forceful thrust.

“Fucking open your eyes and look at me.”

Something about his deep growl forced her to obey. His face hovered just above hers, and he fused their stares together. A jolt, a zing, an electric sizzle—they lit her up. The forces in her body swirled together, spinning faster and faster, taking her down with them like a whirlpool sucking away her ability to breathe, to care about anything but the ecstasy about to sear across her soul.

“Decker,” she whispered almost soundlessly, out of breath.

Using all the power of his muscled arms and thighs, he fucked his way even harder inside her. His stare penetrated deeper. This didn't feel like a one-night stand. Decker utterly possessed her, from their linked fingers above her head, to their locked stares, all the way to their joined bodies.

The uproar of tingles and aches throbbing with need all compounded to overload her, but they had nothing on the sudden fervor that seized her heart.

All the sensations inside her melded, conjoined, rose dangerously. Then her body combusted. Her sex clamped down on him, womb clenching, as pleasure spilled over in a lush melding of wonder, ecstasy, and thrill.

Above her, Decker pounded into her mercilessly, jaw tensing, eyes raging, breath sawing in and out of his chest with effort, with excitement. He crushed her lips under his own and gripped her hands fiercely. Then his entire body tensed as he submerged himself completely inside her, setting off another storm of astonishing pleasure. As she screamed into his kiss and held on for dear life, Rachel wondered if she'd be able to forget this night or this man—ever.

TEN MINUTES LATER, RACHEL WAS CURLED AGAINST HIS SIDE
, hand brushing up and down his chest. The room was still mostly dark, broken only by a nightlight coming from the bathroom and a twinkle from the silvery moon streaming through the window. He'd disposed of the condom and caught his breath. Even on the comfy mattress wrapped in soft sheets and what had to be homemade quilts, Decker couldn't relax. His brain wouldn't downshift to a gear other than sex. Over and over, one thought plagued his head:
What the hell had happened between them?

They hadn't just fucked. She hadn't merely been aroused. He hadn't simply wanted her. What they'd done here had been . . . something more.

That made no fucking sense. He didn't really know this girl. But the very first time he'd clapped eyes on her picture had been a visceral blow to his chest. Touching her shook him even more. Filling her tight cunt had been absolutely earthshaking. Despite an orgasm that had all but fractured his restraint and sent him rocketing into a pleasure so surreal, he still felt stunned and dazed; he still hadn't managed to unleash all the lust broiling inside him.

It didn't add up. She wouldn't be capable of the same sexual gymnastics as that girl from Moscow. She'd never be as freaky as those twins from Mexico City. She probably didn't give a mind-bending blow job like the show dancer he'd hooked up with in Rio. But Rachel had something none of those women possessed, a quality he couldn't put his finger on that made him want to bury his cock inside her again and stay for a sweet long while. She drew him in. He liked her mix of vulnerability and sweet teasing. Her intelligence probably ranked higher than most women he'd taken to bed. The soft chime of her laughter made him smile. She was truly a terrible dancer, but she cared about the people in her life. And she trusted in a way none of the jaded women he'd met could. Hell, more than he ever had. She deserved to be protected, adored, cherished.

How fucking crazy was it that he was wondering if he could be the man for the job?

One thing at a time. First, he had to keep her safe, figure out who wanted her dead,
then
he could decide if he was actually capable of sharing his picket fence with any woman, let alone this one.

At his side, Rachel sighed, caressing him with a leisurely sweep of her hand up and down his torso. The thought of her drifting off in his arms made him smile. On the corner of the bed, the orange tabby yawned and looked at him like an unwelcome interloper. As far as Decker could tell, the cat had remained planted on his little corner of the mattress the whole time he and Rachel had rocked it. The hairball was seemingly far less annoyed that Decker had violated his mistress than he was about having his nocturnal beauty rest disturbed.

“
Meow.
” The cat's tone made it clear he was registering a complaint.

Rachel smiled against Decker's chest, then propped her chin on him to look at the cat. “Be a nice kitten, Val.”

Kitten
? That thing had to weigh fifteen pounds.

“Is he possessive?” Decker sank his fingers into her plush dark hair. It was so fucking soft, not weighed down by a ton of goop or hair spray. It wasn't coarse, and she didn't have extensions. It was just naturally beautiful. Kind of like her.

Shit, now he sounded like some sappy jewelry commercial.

“Not really. He's my cat, for sure. He typically doesn't like other people. He
hated
Owen. It was mutual, however. And Owen swore that Florida was a little bit safer when we moved here because I'd removed the ‘beast.' The fact that Val hasn't attacked or run off means he's at least willing to tolerate you. Since he's a better judge of men than I apparently am, I take it as a good sign.” She flashed a tired but teasing grin in the shadowy room. “Isn't that right, Valentino?”

Rachel stretched across the bed to pet the little hairball between his perky ears. The move exposed her breasts, and that's all it took for his cock to go from half-awake to aching for action again. Wincing, he dragged in a calming breath. He had to give her pussy a break after he'd pounded her like a madman. Besides, while she was soft and sweet and sated would be a good time to ask her questions that might help him. Any information would be better than grasping in the dark.

“Valentino?” he asked. “Like the famous actor?”

“Yes. Like his namesake, Val seems to be well liked by the female felines in the neighborhood. The males . . . they turn their tails up at him. Val is also a little bit of a diva and likes his way. That's a cat thing, but it's even more of a Val thing. I found him as a stray when he was just a baby kitten. I was married to Owen, and he threw a fit. But I just couldn't resist Val.”

That soft heart of hers again. Of course she'd take in a little runt with big green eyes that purred and rubbed against her leg. Rachel's sweetness was part of her charm.

When had he last spent any time with a woman who had this kind of goodness? Probably during the Clinton administration. What did he know about family pets, nice girls, and comfortable beds? Jack squat. He needed to get his head on straight and do the job he'd come to do before he contemplated anything else. But what was there to think about? It wouldn't be long before Xander and duty called, whisking him away. Rachel needed to fall for a great guy who would be there for her day in, day out. Not one who'd be jaunting off to another continent at a moment's notice to stop the spread of industrial espionage or whatever shit S.I. Industries faced.

Even with all that running through his head, he couldn't stop himself from pressing Rachel against him, kissing her forehead, then settling her face onto his shoulder. Her sigh of contentment made him harder.

“So, is Val the only friend who came with you from Florida?”

“Yes. After the divorce, Owen and I had a few ugly fights. My family lived nearby, and he tried to drag them into our dispute once. I didn't love the principal of the school I worked for, and I couldn't afford to stay in the house my ex-husband and I had bought together, so I started applying to schools all over the South. Lafayette Parish hired me.”

So if Owen lived in Florida, how could he have been in a bar in Lafayette yesterday, soliciting murder? It was possible. But likely?

But if he ruled the ex out, how many other suspects did he have? Zilch.

“It's nice that you've made some friends here.”

She smiled. “Shonda has been great. I'm so glad that her brother is going to be all right. A couple of broken bones and a mild concussion, but he'll heal up.”

“Good news.” He paused, brushing his fingers through her silky sable hair again. “You seem like such a kind person. I'll bet you don't have any enemies.”

Rachel lifted her head to look down at him and paused. “Not that I know of. I'm generally on better footing with Owen now. My family says he's got a new girlfriend and that Carly has been good for him. I can't think of anyone else I've exchanged any cross words with.”

“Know if his girlfriend's jealous of you?”

“Why should she be?” Rachel shrugged. “I'm out of his life and have
no
interest in returning.”

Even if it didn't seem likely, the sexually inept ex still remained his only suspect. Not that Decker wouldn't love to nail his ass to the wall, but he worried that pinning this murder for hire on Owen might be a bit too easy, like saying the butler did it. If the guy lived in Florida, it would be awfully inconvenient to travel to Lafayette simply to solicit a murder. And obvious, too. Then again, maybe he'd simply called a sympathetic friend and convinced him to hire out this dirty work. Hard to know . . . Better to keep digging.

“I'll bet you're an expert at handling agitated parents,” he praised. “And your students must love you.”

“I've only been teaching here for a few months, but my interactions have been largely positive. Most of my parents are really involved in their kids' lives, so that makes the partnering great.”

“You haven't had any trouble with them?”

“No.”

“Like all your new neighbors?”

“The few I know, yeah. It's a neighborhood of mostly young professionals, so everyone is busy doing their own thing.”

So unless she had some secret or silent hater, had seen something she shouldn't have, or was the target of some random freak, Decker didn't have any better suspects than Owen. Damn it, he had to get to a computer and find a picture of the guy, check his current whereabouts, see if that's who'd plopped his hateful ass down on the barstool beside his and offered him mid-five figures to kill Rachel.

“What about you?” she asked, cutting into his thoughts.

Decker opened his mouth to give her a bullshit reply, but paused. He was already lying to her about his reason for being at that bar, his reason for going home with her, his reason for staying. For some damn reason, he didn't want to lie about this, too.

“I don't have many friends beyond Xander and Javier. A few of their local buddies are cool. I've spent a lot of time on tours and missions all over the world. A lot of the guys I considered friends didn't make it home. I've got my share of enemies. I've got a ruthless streak. If anyone fucks with me or mine, we're going to have problems.”

Rachel pulled back a bit. He drew her close again and held in a curse.

Oops, probably too much.
Likely, he'd scared the hell out of her. He tried to laugh it off and hoped she bought it.

“God, that made me sound like I live in a cave, eat raw game, and beat my chest.”

She giggled, at ease once more. He let out a relieved breath.

“Maybe a little. I was trying to ask you why you're in Lafayette. Is this a temporary stop?” she asked.

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “That depends some on the Santiago brothers. I've been here a few months, and I'll be here at least another few days. That's the longest I've stayed in one place since I was a kid.”

Her gaze slid away, and he didn't have to guess that she was telling herself right now not to get attached to him, not to see any sort of future. Normally, he'd applaud that insight. Now, for some reason it absolutely pissed him off.

“But I like Lafayette well enough. Xander and Javier seem really content to cozy up to their new bride and wait for their baby to come. I don't see them leaving her side anytime soon, and she likes it here, so I might be here a lot longer.”

“So they really share a wife?” she whispered, sounding a bit scandalized.

Crap, he'd seen shit that would shock her to her pretty pink toes. Probably done a few things that would incite the same reaction.

“Yep. They're fairly open about it among their friends. Her mother wasn't keen on the idea at first, but she's come around. You probably would have thought Xander was an ass before London. Javier was a fucking train wreck. They both need her, and she's got a heart big enough for two.”

“I'll bet they scandalize their neighbors.”

Since Xander had been really persistent about seducing London in their backyard over the summer, and she and Javier had almost been caught fucking in the car in their driveway a few weeks ago? “No doubt.”

Rachel smiled and braced her chin on his chest again. “You're easy to talk to.”

“You are, too,” he answered honestly. “Sorry if I got a little, um . . . demanding earlier. I promise I won't drag you off by your hair—at least not often.”

“Did you hear me complaining?”

“Hmm . . .” He pretended to cock his head in thought. “Unless ‘please, don't stop' is some new code for ‘no,' then I guess not.”

Even in the dim light, he could see a faint flush crawl up her cheeks. “In fact, it was . . . wow.”

He cupped her chin and brushed a thumb over her slightly swollen lip. “It was pretty ‘wow' for me, too, beautiful.”

And he meant that. It wasn't because of her spectacular technique or her deviant sexual kink. It definitely wasn't because she dressed as scantily as a Hollywood Boulevard hooker. It wasn't at all because she knew how to seduce a man in sixty seconds or less. It was precisely because none of those things were true about Rachel.

She had permanence stamped all over her, and he wasn't a staying sort of man. He was going to have to be careful not to hurt her if—no, when—he left. Why lie to himself? This cozy feeling would pass, right? Probably, but . . . he didn't want to know why the idea of parting ways with her made him somewhere between grumpy and enraged.

“Tired?” she asked with a smile.

“No.”

“Hungry or thirsty?”

“No.” He grinned. “Ask me if I'm horny.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I hate that word.”

“Ask me if I want to fuck you again.”

Rachel hesitated, then with an impish smile, she lifted the blanket covering them both and tried to peer down at his cock, but it had to be too dark for her to see. To make sure she didn't miss even an inch of his cock throbbing for her, Decker threw back the soft sheets and handmade quilt and took himself in hand.

She gasped. “I don't think I need to ask.”

Her voice suddenly sounded throaty, and it turned him on even more.

“I want you again, Rachel.” He lifted her hand from his chest and eased it down to his hard cock.

He died a small, shuddering death when she wrapped her fingers around him and stroked softly, down and up his sensitive length, then brushed over the tingling head. When she bent to kiss his shoulder, his chest, another tremor wracked his body.

It didn't make sense. He'd spent three days in bed with a Victoria's Secret model last time he'd been in Manhattan. Besides being gorgeous, Mandy was experienced, voracious, and unapologetic. She never expected anything more than an orgasm. Normally, she was his kind of girl.