One Night with a Hero (6 page)

Refusing to get caught up any deeper in his head, Brady pushed her back one step, then another, and lifted her to sit on the single stretch of counter without an overhead cabinet. Joss gasped and her nails dug into his skin, setting off a yearning to feel the pinch of her grip over every inch of his body.

He pulled back and met her gaze, loving the haze of lust that left her green eyes just short of focused, her lips wet and swollen, her chest heaving. “Lean back.” He pressed a hand against the pale skin of her stomach. “I want you on my tongue.”

Brady wrapped his arms under her thighs and lifted her so she sat nearer to the edge, then he dropped to his knees and placed a series of soft, sucking kisses on the insides of her thighs.

When her legs were shaking where they lay over his shoulders, he met her heavy-lidded gaze and licked straight up through the center of her. Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open on a whimper that had him straining against the fly of his jeans. And damn it all to hell but she was salty-sweet on his tongue. He’d thought of tormenting her with unending slow licks of whipped cream from her pussy, but in truth he thought the addition would detract from the intoxicating smell and taste of her. All warm and rich and female musk.

Supporting her lower back with one hand, he used his other to open her folds to his tongue’s exploration. He alternated long licks with quick, firm strokes, and penetrating sweeps of tongue with deep sucking draws on the swollen nerves of her clit. His brain was cataloging those things that made her cry out or her hips jerk or her hand press down harder on his head. And even though he knew down deep he didn’t need that information if this wasn’t going to happen again—and it shouldn’t, it really fucking shouldn’t if he knew what was right by her and smart by him—he couldn’t stop himself from memorizing every inch of her so he could please her again and again.

“Oh, God,” she rasped. “I need you.”

“Come on my tongue, sweetness, and you can have me any way you want.”

She moaned as he concentrated fast, flat, hard licks against her clit. He looked up her body and found her beautiful face. Eyes closed, mouth open, expression frozen between pleasure and pain. Her breath caught, hips jerked, thighs went rigid.

Her eyes flew open as her head wrenched back, a long, low moan rolling out of her as she came. He lapped up her pleasure and drank it down, masculine pride surging through him and tightening his balls. Brady was on his feet and kicking off his jeans as fast as his painful erection would let him.

And whaddya know, the counter was the perfect height. God bless America.

He grasped himself and dragged the head of his cock through her folds, then froze. “Oh shit. Condom.”

“Oh. Um. I don’t have any. I haven’t needed—” A blush spread over the flush still pinking her cheeks from the orgasm.

He shouldn’t have been so happy to hear her recent sex life hadn’t required a stash of Trojans. Especially since it meant they were high and dry at the moment. Unless he got dressed and limped next door. Urgent arousal kicked him in the lower back and had him curling his hips into hers.

“I’m on the pill though, so I’m safe. And, well, I’m clean. I’ve only had two partners, and both were long-term relationships.”

Brady leaned in and kissed her. This shit was never easy to talk about, and he respected that she didn’t hem and haw about it. He leaned his forehead against hers, which nestled his cock against her wet heat. An odd feeling of need that had nothing to do with his libido had him whispering against the soft skin of her face. “Shit, Joss. I’ve
never
done this without a condom.” He cleared his throat. “And I just had a physical and got a clean bill of health when I returned stateside in June.”

“We don’t have to, it’s okay.”

Dammit. It wasn’t even a question of trusting her. It was
him
he didn’t trust. It was him he could
never
trust. He was his father’s son, after all—the anger problems that had earned him a one-way trip off the front lines proved that—and there was no way he was ever burdening a child with that kind of legacy the way Alyssa had been. So he’d never before given going bareback a second thought.

She pressed a soft kiss to his lips and gasped. Cupping his cheek, she stroked her tongue over his lips. “I taste good on you,” she whispered.

Holy mother of—
He rocked his hips, once, twice, sliding his rigid length against the velvet heat of her pussy. Glancing down, he watched himself and couldn’t deny that what he really wanted to see was his cock disappearing into her, filling her, claiming her as his.

His?
Where the hell was this possessive streak coming from? He never got all “you are mine” over his lays because he never, ever felt that way—his job didn’t allow him the time and his nature didn’t allow him the inclination. But, Jesus, it was there and then some with her.

Desire drowned out the confusion roiling in his gut. “I want to, Joss.” He met her gaze, open and affectionate.

“I want you to, too. And I trust you.”

He frowned, even as he took himself in hand. “You shouldn’t,” he whispered.

She pushed his fingers out of the way and guided the head of his cock inside her slit. “Saying stuff like that just proves I can.” She leaned back against the wall and opened her legs to him, allowing his hips to come in hard and tight.

Cupping one of her knees under each of his arms, Brady groaned as he bottomed out, balls caressing the rounded cheeks of her ass. Skin-on-skin, the feeling was so much more intense, more raw, more real that he had to pause and breathe away the urge to plow into her, rush through it, chase what he knew would be an incredible orgasm so fast that it would be over before he’d memorized every moment of it.

“Does it feel different?”

“Hell yeah. It’s insane, Joss. You feel so fucking good I’m afraid to move.”

The corner of her mouth lifted in a small, sexy smile that had something in his chest stirring, too. “Move, Brady. I need you to.”

As soon as he did, his brain went off-line and he was all sensation. The tight, white-hot glide of his cock in her slick channel. The soft quiver of her thighs in his arms. The soundtrack of her panting and moans mingling with his groans and rough exhalations.

If they’d have been anywhere but the kitchen, he’d have taken her to the floor, laid her out, and sprawled himself atop her. He wanted to feel the rub and press of their bodies moving and her arms and legs wrapped around him. He wanted his face buried in all that luscious hair. And he sure as hell wanted her nails marking his back.

Next time
, his mind whispered insidiously.

There won’t be any damn “next time.”
He shook his head, willing the combatants in his brain away.
Just this one time. Let me have this
.

Whatever else happened, Brady didn’t want this to end without feeling Joss come around his cock. Propping one of her legs straight against his chest freed a hand to pleasure her, and he reveled in the gasping moan she released when he circled his fingers over his clit.

“Never come twice.” She shook her head. “Never…”

“You sure? Because I love a challenge.”

She half moaned/half laughed, then bit her lip. “Try it harder,” she whispered.

“What, sweetness? Fucking or rubbing?”

“Both.”

He nodded. “Gimme your hand.” He placed her fingers on top of her clit. “Rub yourself for me. Show me what you like.”

She peered up at him from under her eyelashes, and something told him she’d never touched herself in front of a man before.

His gaze dropped to where they were joined as he held up his end of the bargain and hammered into her, his grip tight on her thighs to absorb most of the impact, his dog tags bouncing against his chest. “So hot, seeing my dick in your pussy while you touch yourself. Just thinking about you getting off again is making my blood pound.”

She rubbed fast little circles over her swollen nub. Her eyes clenched in tight concentration.

And then the tension exploded behind his balls and he was coming, pulsing, pouring himself into a woman for the first time in his life. Into Joss.

“Don’t stop,” she moaned, her fingers flying.

“Jesus,” he ground out at the incredibly erotic sight, at the fact that he was going light-headed at the sheer force of his orgasm.

And then her pussy clamped down on him over and over and Joss unleashed a high-pitched moan that started low in her throat. Brady collapsed against her and swallowed her cry in a hot, wet, worshipful kiss. When her body finally calmed, his thighs were shaking.

“Holy shit,” he breathed against her lips.

Running on pure instinct now, Brady stepped back and helped her down. Her knees went soft when she hit the floor, so he scooped her into his arms and made his way through the house and upstairs to where her bathroom should be. She was warm and pliant in his arms and the sensation of her nuzzling into the crook of his neck shouldn’t have felt as good as it did.

The monster of his ancient anger stalked back and forth at the gates of his mind. But he was ignoring that motherfucker for all he was worth.

Because, since he never allowed himself this—any of this, really—he had no idea how fucking good it could all feel, right down to her arms holding him.

He settled her on her feet against the wall next to the shower and reached in to adjust the water.

“Get in,” he said when it was warm enough, his voice like gravel. “I’ll wash you.”

With a shy smile he found ridiculously endearing given their history so far, she stepped into the tub. A tattoo of a dozen tiny black birds took flight across her back, as if a flock was suddenly startled and rose into the air one by one, from the middle of her spine and disappearing under the length of her hair.

He stepped in behind her and traced the line of birds, pushing her hair over her shoulder so he could follow them to the nape of her neck, where they turned into a spray of colorful stars that ended just behind her ear. “This is beautiful.” Something about the appearance of those rising, dark birds ascending to the stars tugged at his gut and felt inexplicably familiar.

Warm, foreign pressure filled his chest. Goddammit. How could a feeling both ease his soul and trigger his fight-or-flight response?

“Thank you.”

He turned her so the shower could wet her hair. “Tilt your head back,” he said. And then he washed her, first her hair, then her body. And against all the lives he’d saved and terrorists he’d helped take out, somehow this moment, this connection, felt just as significant. The realization of what belonging felt like—of what others had but he never could—squeezed his heart in his chest until it was hard to take a deep breath.

So as he rinsed the suds off her tired, supple body, he allowed himself to be in this moment with her, to be owned by it, to allow himself this one exception to the cardinal rule. Because it could never happen again.

And, neighbors or not, from now on, he had to stay away from Joss Daniels.

Chapter Six

When she was dressed again, Joss went downstairs to join Brady, who had gone down a few minutes before to retrieve his clothes from where they’d left them in the kitchen.

She was nearly high on endorphins and damn happy about it. Geez. Her joints were loose, her muscles were exhausted, and her belly was full. She could probably nap the rest of the day and be entirely content.

She entered the kitchen and found him fully dressed and stacking dishes in the sink. “You didn’t have to clean up.” Stopping behind him, she wrapped her arms around his stomach. “But thank you.”

“The least I could do,” he said in a low voice. He twisted in her arms and stared at her a long moment, his features tight.

Her gut gave a weird little squeeze, but then he leaned down and kissed her, softly, in a way that made her feel adored, and the niggling sensation disappeared.

“Thanks for everything,” he said.

She grinned. “Any time.” And boy did she mean it. Any day that started with fantastic waffles and hot sex ranked right up there in her book. And the fact that it was with Brady, this kind, intense, and passionate man, well, that made it all the better.

He stroked his knuckles over her cheek and brushed his thumb along her bottom lip. His gaze made her think of reluctant good-byes. He dropped his hand and stepped away, clearly intent on leaving.

You’re overreacting
. She walked him to the door and forced cheerfulness into her voice. “So,” she said, “if you need any neighborhood recommendations or help getting your place set up, just let me know.”

“Yeah.” He reached for the handle and looked over his shoulder at her as he opened the door. “Bye, Joss.” His emotionless gaze scanned her face and he nodded.

“See ya,” she said, her stomach doing that weird squeezy thing again. She gave a last wave as he stepped off her stoop and closed the door behind him.

Alarm bells rang in her head. After the incredible morning they’d spent together, followed by the amazing time the night before, she knew she was probably acting ridiculous. Still… Maybe she shouldn’t have hugged him at the sink. She just felt so comfortable with him. It didn’t make any sense, really, but there it was.

She had no idea what they were—or if they were anything at all. But even if all they ever became was friendly neighbors who had occasional crazy hot sex, it would be awesome. So. Everything was fine.
Don’t go neurotic, Joss
. Right. Good plan.

Intent on some normalcy, she picked up her cell phone and dialed Christina. No matter what, the past twenty-four hours called for some serious best friend time.

…

“What do you think of this one?”

Joss peeked out of her fitting room door. Christina lifted her arms and spun in the midnight-blue jersey dress. “That’s the best one yet. You have to get it.”

“Really? You like this better than the gray one? The cleavage might be too much.” She tugged at the neckline, trying to cover the little bit of her breasts that showed.

Joss grinned. Christina looked like the preschool teacher she was: blond, sweet-faced, petite, and conservative. But despite their differences, somehow from the time they’d met at work, they’d just clicked. Best friends ever since. Christina had married last year, so they didn’t manage to hang out as much as they had before, but she never could turn down a holiday sale at the mall.

“Definitely not too much. That’s the one. I’m telling you. How about this?” Joss stepped out of her dressing room to show off the ankle-length black chiffon dress she’d found.

“Turn around,” Christina said.

Joss smiled. The back was the best part. It had a cutout that framed her blackbirds perfectly.

“Oh, Joss. That is totally you.”

“Couldn’t wear it to work, though.”

“True, but it would be a great date dress. If you get that one, I’ll get this one.”

The mention of dating sent heat to her cheeks. She turned away and peered into the mirror again. Twisting her hair on top her head, she imagined how she’d wear it to show off the tattoo.
Brady likes it down
. She groaned. “What is this? Fashion bribery?”

“Absolutely. You always ask me to go shopping and then I’m always the one who leaves with eight bags of loot while you go home empty-handed.”

Joss chuckled. “All right.” They returned to their fitting rooms, and she looked at her reflection. Taking a deep breath, she mentally prepared for the Inquisition. “So, speaking of dates…” She slipped out of her dress and arranged it on the hanger.

“Oh, thank God. I seriously wasn’t going to be able to last much longer. What happened last night?”

Good question.
She dressed, collected her things and stepped out into the hall, all the while replaying Brady’s departure in her brain. She and Christina had the whole fitting room to themselves, so no harm in spilling here. “Well, the abbreviated version is that I met a guy and hooked up with him last night.”

Christina’s door flew open. “Define ‘hooked up.’”

Joss opened her mouth to reply—

“You had sex!”

“Shh. Why don’t you just announce it to the whole store, woman? ‘Attention, Macy’s shoppers, Joss Daniels had sex last night.’ Oh, and this morning.”

Christina gasped and her eyes went wide. “Good sex?”

Joss should’ve felt insulted at her amazement, but seeing as she was still kinda amazed herself, she didn’t. Memories full of Brady’s incredible intensity and hot, hard body rushed before her mind’s eye. “Mm-hmm.
Great
sex.”

“Holy crap. I have, like, fifty-two questions now,” Christina said, stuffing her feet into her flats. “We need food for this conversation. Lunch?”

Food and spilling good dirt had always gone together for them. “Sure.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were settled in a booth at a festive American chain restaurant off the mall food court, one shopping bag next to Joss and five next to Christina.

“All right,” her friend said. “Spill. And don’t leave out any of the good parts.”

Joss recounted her night and morning with Brady, from the chance meeting when he’d caught her giving into a momentary pity party to the truck sex to the kitchen counter sex to his strained departure at her front door this morning. Even after their lunches arrived—a burger and fries for Joss, and a grilled chicken salad for Christina—her friend sat rapt the whole time, occasionally interjecting questions and sprinkling in a number of “oh my gods” and “holy craps” at all the right places.

“Do you think you’ll see him again?” Christina asked.

“Well, I’ll definitely see him, since he’s my next-door neighbor.” And, oh, goody, that won’t be weird at all. “But, whether I’ll
see
him, I have no idea. I don’t think I imagined that he was off when he left. It was like the shutters had come down or something. I definitely wasn’t getting a ‘let’s do this again’ vibe, but, you know, I’m oversensitive about these things anyway.” Joss shrugged, not as unaffected as the gesture implied. In fact, her gut had been heavy with the feeling of dread all day. She glanced down at her mostly uneaten burger. Out of nowhere, she recalled Brady’s voice saying how he hated to waste food. She’d get it boxed to go.

Christina dropped her napkin on her plate. “Do you want to see him again?”

Joss debated for a moment and nodded. “Yeah. Even though he’s setting off red flags all over the place.” She finished the last of her fries and attempted to keep her insecurities from swamping her.

“I think this situation calls for some froyo,” Christina said.

“With toppings.” She could always count on Christina to know just how to lighten a situation, or at least divert Joss from a downward spiral.

As they waited for the waiter to return with a box and their bill, Christina grasped Joss’s hand. “Just give it some time. Neither of you expected this to happen, right?”

Joss nodded.

“So, just play it cool when you see him and follow his lead.”

…

Christina’s plan was sound, except the whole week passed and Joss didn’t see Brady once. He was always gone when she left the house and not yet home when she returned in the evenings. Admittedly, his job had to be demanding. And she had been busy, too. The first week of the new school year meant extra hours setting up the center, filing student paperwork, catching up with the returning students, and meeting all the new kids and parents. Not that she minded. New school years had always filled her with an excited anticipation. As a child, the first day back to school represented an escape from the children’s home where she’d mostly grown up. Now, even though it had been many years since she was last a student, September always gave her that same feeling.

This year
, something new could happen.
This year
, anything was possible.
This year
, you could find a family and everything could be better.

Maybe she was being neurotic. Okay,
probably
she was. But it seemed more than coincidental that she hadn’t run into the man even once.

It didn’t help that out of sight did
not
mean out of mind. How many nights had she fallen asleep with the events of last weekend in her mind’s eye? How often had she stared at her bedroom wall and imagined his big, hard body stretched out on his bed on the other side? How many times had her fingers served as a weak substitute for his? Sexual frustration, unending curiosity, and a bruised ego had been her constant companions.

So, on Saturday morning, Joss wasn’t above gathering her dry cleaning and recycled grocery bags and heading out to run her errands just as Brady was coming out of his house with two other people, a dark-haired man and a petite brown-haired woman who was talking animatedly.

The September sun looked suddenly brighter, she was so glad to see him again. Both her behavior and her reaction to seeing him were a hundred shades of pathetic, but at least she’d finally have a chance to feel him out.

She opened the passenger door of her truck and dumped the cleaning, the bags, and her purse onto the seat. She didn’t want to interrupt their conversation, but she had to at least say hello. Stupid, but she missed the sexy smart-ass even though it had only been a week. When she closed the door and turned, Brady had joined her in the space between their cars. He stood, watching her.

And damn did he look fine in a pair of beat-up jeans and a navy T-shirt that emphasized the size of his biceps.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hey.” His gaze flickered to the couple walking toward the passenger side of his Rover.

She smiled at them, then looked back to Brady. “How have you been? I can’t believe I didn’t run into you once all week.”

“Uh, good. My department has been gearing up for a big security exercise, so, yeah, some long days,” he said, his tone stilted and uncomfortable.

Her stomach sank, just a little. “Oh. Well, of course. First week of back-to-school for me, so I get it.” She felt the couple on the other side of his truck watching them, so she glanced their way. “I’m sorry to interrupt you guys. I just wanted to say hi.”

“Hi,” the young woman said. All at once, Joss realized why her features looked so familiar—she had Brady’s eyes.

The man raised a hand and Joss nearly did a double take at how the brightness of his blue eyes stood out against his dark hair.

“Hey,” she said.

She looked at Brady, and apparently her gaze galvanized him into action because he said, “Oh, Alyssa and Marco, this is my, uh, neighbor, Joss. Joss, this is Alyssa and Marco, my sister and her…” He frowned.

“Fiancé, idiot. He’s my fiancé,” Alyssa said, rolling her eyes. Marco chuckled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Forgive him, Joss. If you have any brothers, you know they can be complete morons sometimes.”

Joss laughed. She liked Alyssa right away. “I don’t, but I’ll take your word for it. Brady is a self-admitted pain in the ass though, so I do know that much.” She grinned at Brady, who was watching the two of them talk like he was at a tennis match.

“Ah, you do know him then.” Alyssa grinned.

“Yeah, a little. So, when’s the big day?”

“Next summer, we think,” Alyssa said. “We’re still working on a date.”

“Well, congratulations. That’s great.” She jingled her keys and smiled at Brady. “What are you up to today?”

“Aly’s offended by my minimalist decor, so I guess we’re going shopping.” His eyes didn’t quite meet hers.

“Brady, your house echoes it’s so empty.”

He shrugged.

“Well, good luck,” Joss said, feeling more and more like an intruder, not because of Marco and Alyssa, but because of Brady’s standoffishness. She’d only known him a short time, of course, but it wasn’t a description she would’ve used for him before this moment. Clearly, he wasn’t comfortable with her meeting his family. And, fine. He didn’t owe her anything. A fact that made her feel even more stupid for the hurt sinking through her stomach. If she was reading him right, then she needed to go. Now. “I’ll see you later.” She stepped past him and waved to the others. “Nice meeting you.”

Without waiting for their answers or looking back, Joss rounded the hood of her truck, got in and started the engine, and backed out.

At least now she knew where she stood.

Brady watched Joss’s truck turn onto 36th Street and felt like a total dick. The initial bright, open expression on her face made it crystal clear she was excited to see him again after the week apart—which he had ensured by alternately working late, hanging with the guys at night, or running after he got home.

As he left her house last Sunday morning, unwelcome pangs of regret and longing had squeezed his chest until he could barely breathe. He’d felt his solitude more keenly after spending the time with her, and it had all just highlighted every fucking thing he could never have. He’d paced the length of his kitchen, scenes of what had transpired in
hers
tormenting him until that familiar red haze settled over his eyes. He’d nearly punched a wall. Instead, he beat the stupid out of himself with a grueling twelve-mile run in the heat of the day. Still, the annoying pull to see her crawled around in his brain all week, making him insane. Not to mention horny as all fuck. Seeing her again just now? Every bit of his desire, his impossible want, his anger roared back to life.