Wildcard (16 page)

She shrieked and grabbed onto his neck. “Jess Lawless!”

“Get a room this time,” someone shouted from the crowd and everyone burst into laughter.

“You can count on that,” Jess said as he strode to the front door. “This time there’ll be no interruptions, and no peep show.”

Chapter Sixteen

The twenty minute drive to the hotel in Douglas was twenty minutes too damn long, as far as Jess was concerned. He’d barely had the presence of mind to grab the overnight bags they’d packed from out of his truck, then the wait at the check-in and the time it took to ride up in the elevator to their room was unbearable.

They couldn’t keep their hands or mouths off one another in the elevator, and if there’d been the slightest chance they could have gotten away with it, he would have fucked her right there.

But this time Jess intended to have Trace all to himself.

“Hurry,” Trace demanded when he slid the card key in the lock.

The moment the door was open, Jess swept her up in his arms and kicked the door shut behind them.

He needed to be in her so bad it was all he could do not to rip that sexy little dress right off her. Trace was just as frantic. She kissed his stubbled jaw, his ear, his lips—anything she could get her mouth on while he carried her to the king-sized bed in the middle of the room.

Somehow they both ended up tumbling onto the bed, their kissing wild and frenzied. He’d wanted to make love to her slow and easy this time, but all he could think about was driving his cock inside her pussy and possessing her in every way.

Mind, body, heart, and soul.

Trace’s head spun. She hadn’t had any alcohol at the party, yet she felt intoxicated, drunk with her need for Jess. One of her shoes slipped off and her dress hiked up to her waist as they rolled across the bed. In the next moment she found herself on top of Jess, her thighs straddling his hips.

He’d lost his hat and his hair was a sexy mess, his eyes like blue fire as she looked down at him. “You make me crazy, woman,” he said as he reached down and teased the soft hair on her mound with his thumb.

“Then at least we’re crazy together.” She pulled his shirt out of his jeans and ripped the snaps apart, baring his sculpted chest.

Jess’s hands were just as busy as hers. He yanked down the top of her strapless dress so that she was completely exposed, save for the material bunched up around her waist.

Trace scooted down onto his thighs. Her fingers didn’t even falter as she unbuckled his belt, undid his jeans, and freed his cock.

His palms were like fire as he cupped her breasts, kneading them and pinching her nipples as she wrapped her hands around his cock and rose up on her knees.

“Fuck me,” Jess ordered as she placed his erection at the opening to her channel.

Coming down in a swift movement Trace impaled herself on his long, rigid length and cried out with the pleasure of feeling him so deep. And the way his cock curved slightly, it hit her g-spot, dead on. “You fit me so perfect,” she said as she wiggled.

“Oh, yeah.” He gripped her hips. “That’s it, sugar. Now ride me hard.”

Trace raised herself up so that his cock was almost out of her, than plunged back down so that his cock pressed against her pleasure button, and then she did it again and again. Her breasts bounced as she rode him, the slap of flesh and the creak of the bed frame an echo of her moans.

Jess thrust his hips up to meet her, pounding that spot that felt so unbelievably delicious deep inside. His jeans were rough against her ass and the inside of her thighs, the scrape of the denim adding to her excitement.

“I—I’m coming,” Trace said as her eyes locked with Jess’s. His tense jaw and his wild blue gaze somehow tightened the spiral in her abdomen, and when the power of her climax unleashed itself, she totally and completely came undone.

“Damn, that’s it,” she heard him say through the storm of sensation lashing through her. He shouted something she didn’t understand and then his hips bucked against hers, driving his cock still deeper yet and forcing the whirlwind of her orgasm to go on and on.

His cock throbbed and pulsed inside her sensitive core and she collapsed against his chest, totally exhausted, spent, and satisfied.

Jess woke with Trace curled up on his chest and his cock still inside her—and it was hard as a steel rod. Her peaches and cream perfume blended with the smell of the rich cream between her thighs.

He craned his neck to get a better look at her face and smiled at the sight of her sleeping. That cute freckled nose, the dark crescents of her lashes against her cheeks, her smudged makeup, and her wild hair spread across her cheek and tumbling onto his chest…

She had never looked more beautiful.

Carefully he brushed the hair from her face with his fingers and tucked it behind the ear with all those glittering gold earrings. He frowned as he studied the scratches he’d just revealed along her cheek from that bitch Newman. He’d never been so terrified in all his life as he had when he’d heard that gun go off, and Trace was scuffling with Newman. But he’d been so damn proud of Trace, too, for taking that woman down the way she did.

Stirring in his arms, Trace purred, a soft smile curving the corner of her mouth. Her lashes fluttered open and then her jade green eyes met his. “Hi,” she said.

Jess brushed another lock of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. “Have we met, sugar?”

“I hope so.” Trace covered her mouth with her fingers, holding back a small yawn before adding, “Otherwise a strange man has a very long and hard tool inside my pussy.”

He pumped his hips a couple of times. “You mean this?”

Her eyes rolled back and she moaned. “Oh, my. Yes.”

In a quick movement, Jess flipped over. Trace squealed and laughed as he pinned her beneath him and braced his arms to either side of her arms. “You ready for another round?” he asked with a small thrust of his hips.

“Whoa, cowboy.” She squeezed her thighs around his waist and gave him a mock frown. “Now that we’ve fucked without someone walking in on us—”

“This session’s not over yet,” Jess cut in with a grin.

Trace laughed and went on, “Why don’t we try sex with
both
of us naked. Entirely naked. As in no socks, no dress around my waist, and you with every last stitch of clothing off.” She pursed her lips as she eyed him, before adding, “Well, you could wear the hat.”

He chuckled. “One problem.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“How do I get my clothes off without taking my cock out of you?”

With an unladylike snort she braced her palms against his chest and pushed at him. “Don’t make me get mean with you, cowboy.”

“Now that I’d like to see.” He didn’t budge as she giggled and kept trying to shove him off of her. “You’re about as mean as a potato.”

“What? Ooooh…” Trace gave him a pretty fierce look for a spud. “Just you wait.”

“All right.” Jess laughed and eased away and then stood beside the bed. He kicked off his boots and peeled off his socks as Trace slid her crumpled dress from around her waist and tossed it across the room.

“I was wondering,” Jess said as he shoved down his jeans, “if you’d come with me to Houston tomorrow for Christmas dinner with my mom and the rest of the Lawless clan.”

“I’d love to.” A radiant smile spread across Trace’s face. “Definitely wouldn’t want you to disappoint your mother. And I’d sure love to taste some of that special pecan pie you said she makes for Christmas.”

“It’s the best.” He gave her a quick grin. “Can’t wait for Mom to meet you, sugar.”

When he was naked, Jess stood beside the bed, his hungry eyes taking Trace in. She reclined on her side as she watched him. Her long hair spilled over her breasts, her nipples peeking through, and the soft hair of her mound glistening with their juices.

Damn.
It took every shred of his control not to slide between those pale thighs and thrust his cock inside her and fuck her long and hard.

Whoa, Lawless
. He ground his teeth.
Take it slow this time.

Trace’s heart beat a little faster as her man studied her as though she was a seven course dinner he was about to devour. Her nipples tightened and her pussy grew wetter yet. “What are you waiting for?”

He didn’t answer, and she swallowed hard. Cripes but he was gorgeous—that broad chest, those well defined muscles, and lord, oh lord, but those powerful thighs…
yummy
.

Jess reached down and grabbed his overnight bag that had been dropped on the floor, and she got a fine view of his tight ass. After he dug through the bag, he tossed it back on the floor and then slid on the bed beside her. He was just inches from her, and she could feel his body heat and caught the warm smell of their sex. Both his fists were clenched, and when he opened one she saw that he had a bright red condom package on his palm.

“We seem to have a problem remembering these things,” he said, his voice and expression serious.

Biting the inside of her lower lip, she glanced down at the package and then looked back to him. “You make me so crazy I can’t think past wanting you inside me.”

With a slow nod, he said, “Could be we’ve already made a baby. Then again, maybe not. But we need to decide now if we’re ready to start our family.”

Her eyes widened and her heart pounded faster. “We haven’t even talked about our future, Jess. Much less starting a—a
family
for goodness sake.”

He uncurled his other fist, and her pounding heart shot straight up to her throat and lodged itself there. A ring. A gorgeous solitaire diamond in an antique gold setting.

All along her skin goose bumps sprouted and she began to shiver. Her gaze met his again and he was smiling. “Marry me, sugar. I know we’ve got a lot to work out. What we’re both gonna do about our careers, where we’ll live…when we want to start our family. We’ll work it out. Just say you’ll marry me.”

Trace swallowed hard, but couldn’t get past that throbbing in her throat. She pushed herself to a sitting position and just stared at him.

“Of course,” he added, and the corner of his mouth quirked, “asking’s just a formality. Like I said before—you’re mine and I’m never letting you go.”

“Wow,” she finally got out. “Everything you said…wow.”

Amusement glittered in his wicked blue eyes. “And…”

“Yeah, I’ll marry you,” she told her wildcard and gave him a teasing smile. “As long as you promise to wear those chaps for me. Frequently.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” With a soft laugh, Jess took her left hand and slid the diamond onto her ring finger.

Sparkles flashed and glittered, and Trace sighed at the beauty of the flawless diamond. “Perfect fit.”

“Your sister was a big help,” Jess said as he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.

“Recruiting my family now, are you?”

Expression completely serious, he nodded. “Helps to have informants well positioned.”

Trace laughed and then quieted when he held up the red condom package and said, “It may be too late already to have a choice in the matter. I’m ready to start a family and have a couple of kids or more. But I’d like to know how you feel about it.”

“I didn’t think I was.” She sighed and reached out to run her fingertips down his chest. “I’m still not sure I am. I know I want to be a family with you in every way. But maybe we should use these for now, and then if I’m not pregnant I’ll go on the pill until we’re both ready.”

“Damn but I love you.” Jess ripped the package open and sheathed himself in a hurry. In the next moment he had her flat on her back and he was between her thighs.

He slid into her core and she gasped and arched up to meet him. “I love you, Jess.”

Slowly Jess thrust into Trace, making love to her body, mind, heart and soul. Their pounding hearts seemed to join as one, so loud that it all but surrounded her. Their mouths mated and they swallowed one another’s cries as their climaxes blended and swirled and fused into one.

As tremors wracked her body, and through the haze that shrouded her mind, Trace heard the door open, and at the same time a voice called out, “Housekeeping!”

Epilogue

Rick McAllister dragged his hand over his stubbled face as he settled into the plastic airport seat. He just wanted to get out of dreary San Francisco, back to Arizona, and home to his son.

And then catch those damn
coyotes
, the people-smugglers who’d managed to elude him far too long. Especially the bastard known as
El Torero
.

He pulled his black Stetson low so that he could observe people around him without being obvious. In his line of work as an Intelligence Agent with the U.S. Border Patrol, people-watching was a necessary skill. But now he was doing it to pass the time before his plane was scheduled to depart.

Hair at Rick’s nape prickled—he had the distinct feeling
he
was being watched. He casually looked to his left to see a young woman staring at the screen of a notebook computer. Something in his gut told him she’d been studying
him
a fraction of a second earlier.

The corner of his mouth turned up. He wouldn’t mind if she
had
been checking him out.

Rick pushed up the brim of his Stetson and raked his gaze over the woman. She sure was pretty, her shoulder-length hair the golden color of an Arizona sunrise. She had the type of shapely figure he preferred, nicely rounded and damn sexy. From a gap in her pink silk blouse he could see a little bit of lace covering her generous breasts, and damn if her nipples weren’t pushing up against that soft material. His gaze traveled down to those long legs beneath the skirt that hit a couple of inches above her knees. Yeah, she had great legs and definitely great—

He broke off his appraisal as the woman glanced up and her gaze met his. She had gorgeous eyes, warm and deep brown—and the connection between Rick and the woman, for that fraction of time, was tangible. Like she’d done lassoed him with that one look. She immediately blushed a pretty shade of pink and looked back at her computer.

Rick couldn’t help but grin. Damn, she was cute. She might be worth getting to know.

Well, hell.
Wasn’t it just last night he’d told his sister Callie that he didn’t want a relationship? In the five years since Lorraine’s death, he hadn’t met a single woman he was interested in pursuing. Not one. He’d gone on dates, but few and far between, and often just in the line of work. Yet there he was, fascinated with a stranger in an airport a thousand miles from home.

“Flight 1216 with non-stop service to Tucson is now boarding rows one through twenty-five,” announced a voice over the intercom.

Rick stood, and noticed the woman had slipped her laptop into a bag and was already walking toward the gate, giving him a nice view.

Yeah, she definitely had sexy legs, and damn but she had a great ass, too.

Several passengers crowded in front of Rick, so he had to wait a while longer for his turn to board. When he finally made it onto the plane, he worked his way back and noticed the pretty blonde in a window seat, staring outside. He checked the number and couldn’t believe his luck—she was sitting in seat 23A and his was 23B. What were the odds of that?

He took off his Stetson and set it in the overhead compartment. With his big frame, he normally disliked sitting in the middle, but apparently that was all Callie could get him on this flight, and it was working out just fine. He eased into the seat, extended the seatbelt, and buckled it.

A flight attendant helped an elderly lady put her bag into the overhead compartment, and then the lady sat next to Rick. He nodded to her and said, “Ma’am.”

The woman’s pale blue eyes held a hint of amusement. “You’re too polite to be a Californian.”

“Just spent a week in Frisco with my sister and her twins.” He smiled at the memory, wishing he’d been able to spend more time with his niece and nephew. If he hadn’t had to go to that briefing in San Diego beforehand, he could’ve taken his son Trevor to Callie’s with him. He sure missed the kid and looked forward to getting home.

“I’m visiting my grandchildren in Tucson.” The lady shook her head and sighed. “Hellions, all. Love them, but a weekend is about as much as I can handle. Now those kids could use some lessons in manners.”

She punctuated her statement with a jab of her fist in the air, then began digging through an enormous purse. “I have some pictures their father sent in here somewhere…”

Rick held back a grin and glanced at the woman in pink on his other side. Her forehead was pressed to the pane, and she was apparently lost in her thoughts. She sure smelled good. Real good. Like honeysuckle and soap, clean and fresh.

The windowpane felt cool against Lani Stanton’s forehead as she stared into the darkness. She couldn’t help thinking about her lunch with Theresa and Calinda a couple of days ago and their conversation about Lani meeting a cowboy on her trip to Arizona. She would have to tell her friends she saw a handsome specimen right there in the San Francisco airport.

And wait until she told Trace MacLeod—make that Trace Lawless now—whose idea it was for Lani to make this trip in the first place. Trace had moved back to Arizona six months ago after finding herself a sexy cowboy—and then married him.

Lani sighed and turned her thoughts back to that gorgeous hunk of man in boots she’d seen in the airport. She’d been so embarrassed to find him studying her from beneath his black cowboy hat. What incredible blue eyes he had—and that grin could melt a woman’s soul. Thank goodness he hadn’t noticed her watching him a minute before. As a journalist she’d become a people watcher, and lord, was that man something to watch.

Lani groaned. What was wrong with her? She had no interest in men after being married to the biggest asshole of the century. After seeing what her father had put her mother through when she was growing up, she should have known better. She should never have let James’s lies make her believe in happily-ever-afters.

But as far as that cowboy, what harm was there in looking? Kind of like window shopping with no intention of sampling or buying the merchandise.

She was finally free, finally divorced from James.

Speaking of the bastard, how did he learn that she was going out of town? Last night he’d left a message on her answering machine, demanding that she call him before she left. As if she’d waste another second of her time on him.

“Good riddance, jerk,” she grumbled, her breath fogging the pane.

“Beg pardon?”

Lani jumped at the sound of the husky voice, so close that a shiver sprinted down her spine. As she whirled in the cramped seat, her elbow rammed hard flesh. Heat crept up her neck when she saw the cowboy’s blue eyes wince.

“I’m so sorry!” Her gaze swept over the tanned face, strong chin, and the chestnut hair that had been hidden under the cowboy hat earlier. “Did I hurt you?”

The man grabbed his side and grimaced as though in mortal pain. “I’m not sure I’ll live.”

He winked.

That familiar flush spread through Lani, the telltale blush that would redden her face from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. She offered a half smile and turned back to the window.

Lights flashed on the wing and reflected on the wet asphalt, a steady rhythm in time with her throbbing pulse. She watched as a man guided the plane onto the runway. Her heart rate rocketed, her palms slick with sweat. The scar on her leg ached and she rubbed at it through her skirt.

“I apologize if I embarrassed you,” the man beside her said, his voice low and disturbingly close.

A thrill rippled through her belly as she forced herself to face the man. “Not at all.”

“Rick McAllister.” White teeth flashed against tan skin as he smiled and offered his hand.

Lani caught his earthy scent of sun-warmed flesh and apples, and she fought the desire to dry her moist palm on her skirt before his calloused hand engulfed hers. His grasp sent tingles through her mons and breasts, and she quickly pulled away.

“And your name, Ma’am?” he said in that slow and sexy voice that made her nipples even tighter.

“Oh.” She swallowed, feeling flustered and on edge. “I’m Lani. Lani Stanton.”

“Lainee,” Rick drawled, a slight, almost imperceptible country twang to his voice, and she shivered. “A pretty name for a pretty lady.”

Just the way he was looking at her, the way he said her name, made her want to squirm in her seat.

Good lord. If just talking to this man was making her feel like this, what would it feel like to
really
be with him?

Nope. Not going there. She’d had it with men, and that was
that
.