Heart of Danger (16 page)

“He was standing in the wrong place.”

“He was standing to the nine o’clock of the dartboard. How does that happen?”

“Um…I don’t know,” he was definitely cautious with his words. She could tell him how it happens; she had poor aim—horrible aim, and there was no way in the world she was going to have a gun anywhere near her hands. She would probably end up shooting him even if he were standing behind her. She wouldn’t chance it.

“Me,” she sat down on the bed, “gun…bad idea; got it?”

“Got it,” he agreed.

“I so wish I could go into the office and work,” she lay back on the bed and closed her eyes. She was going to go crazy just sitting around all day. She needed to do something. She had too much time to think and she didn’t want to think anymore. She didn’t want to constantly see the image of Kelly lying on the ground, dying. She understood why Preston had insisted she take some time off, even before he knew the threat was coming to America. He wanted her to have time to process everything, to deal with it; she just wanted to run from it.

She felt the weight of the bed dip and she opened her eyes to stare into the most beautiful Caribbean ocean blue green eyes she had ever seen. He had both hands planted at either side of her head, and his lips were so close to hers that she just wanted to reach up and kiss them, but she didn’t. He felt the need to wait for her to have time and she wouldn’t push him. She wanted him, but she would wait for him to realize it was okay to make love to her. He wouldn’t be taking advantage of her and he had to know that first. She wanted no regrets between them; especially not over something like that.

“Are you bored or something?”

“You’ve known me long enough to know that I like my job and I hate not being able to do it.”

“How about we put your mind on doing something else?”

Was he planning to let her out of the house? Ooh, she hoped so. “What did you have in mind?” She excitedly shifted upward and rested on her elbows. She could be ready to go in less than ten seconds. All she needed was a pair of shoes and she could be out the door.

“This,” he pushed his hand through her hair. Covering the back of her head with his hand, he pulled her closer to him before his lips conquered hers. There was nothing chaste about this kiss. This kiss was fire and passion and it stoked the flames of desire within her. This kiss was claiming her, anchoring her to him in the only way she hadn’t already given herself over to him. He had her heart; he’d had it for years, and now she wanted him to have her body. It had been a long time for her. Since she realized she was in love with him being with any other man felt like a betrayal of that love. She had tried to date, but never once had she wanted to give any man other than Micah Dillard her body. And now, now he was here kissing her like she was the only woman in the world for him. Now she wanted him to take her fully, completely, passionately.

She looped her arms around his neck, clinging to him for fear he might release her as he had in the truck, but instead of releasing her lips he let one hand slide down her body to her waist and he held on, squeezing, caressing and drawing sensual sounds of pleasure from deep within her.

When he did pull away she mourned the loss of his lips, of his body so close to her body, and of his hands caressing her so wantonly. “No,” she whispered as she tried to regain his lips. He pulled farther away from her.

“Get comfortable,” his hand went to the belt in his jeans with jerky movements he pulled it swiftly from the loops. She eased back on the bed, making sure there was room for the two of them.

He was near naked and suddenly she realized she was still fully clothed in her black dress pants and a pale pink pullover light-weight knit top. Maybe it was time for her to do some work here too because clearly he was thinking of getting naked with her.

She started to remove her top. He was on her so fast she didn’t have time to complete the task before he pushed her down onto the bed and covered her with his gloriously naked body. He was solid muscle, hard angles to fit her soft curves and he fit so perfectly it was as if they were made for each other.

He held her wrists above her head in one big hand as the other smoothed over her body.

“I could take that off you know,” she reminded him that this would only work if she was naked with him.

“We’ll get to that later,” he winked at her as his hand slipped underneath the hem of her top and his fingers began to caress her bare skin.

“Micah,” she moaned when his fingers skirted along the waistband of her hip hugging pants.

“Tell me what you need,” he pushed the hem of her shirt up before releasing her wrists and placing intricate kisses over her stomach. “What do you need, honey?”

“You,” the urgency in her voice was evident. She couldn’t wait. She had waited for eight years for him to notice her as a woman and not just an employee. She couldn’t wait for a slow love making routine. She wanted it all, the heat, the passion, the fire, hard and fast; she needed him.

The low purr that came from him told her he wanted her just as much. “Then you shall have me, Natalia.” He caught hold of the waistband of her pants. He didn’t bother to take his time unbuttoning them; he tore at the button until it popped off and then he yanked the soft fabric from her body, taking her panties with it. Another swift move and he had her top and bra off and then there was nothing left. She was naked and he stood there, drinking in the subtle curves of her body.

“You’re beautiful, Natalia. You’re so damn beautiful.”

She laughed. “Glad you like what you see.” She had been worried he might not, but she wouldn’t tell him that. She knew she wasn’t the most well-endowed woman, but her body was proportional and she liked it.

“How could I not?” He came to rest between her legs. “You’re perfect. You’re so perfect.” He trailed soft kisses over her collarbone, up to her neck and then back down to her breasts. Those soft kisses became hungry, lingering kisses as he teased her soft mound, kissing and sucking, licking and tasting.

“Micah!” She arched beneath him, feeling his throbbing manhood and wanting it inside of her. He wasn’t willing to rush to home plate. He took his time, kissing her, caressing her, getting to know every inch of her.

“Don’t stop,” her hands held onto his shoulders as his fingers slid between her legs and played with her delicate folds. “Oh please don’t stop.”

“I hadn’t planned on it,” he slipped one finger inside of her. “You are so wet for me already.”

Was it too soon, too much? Was he disappointed with how quickly she was getting there? Well if he was then it was his own fault because if he didn’t want her aroused and ready to go off like a firecracker then he shouldn’t have been so good at touching and stroking her body in ways that lit a fire under her.

“And you’re mine,” he growled as he positioned his body in place, pushed one of her legs up and entered her, so swiftly, so deeply that she thought she might shatter on contact.

“Are you a virgin?” He steadied his movements but she could see the restraint on his face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she panted, and “no. It’s just been a while.”

“You’re so tight,” he slowly rocked inside of her, unable to hold on to his control. She didn’t want him to hold on to it. She wanted him to release the full force of Micah Dillard inside of her. “How long,” he asked through gritted teeth.

“Eight…” she felt her muscles clenching down on him, trying to draw him deeper. “Eight years,” she grasped hold of his biceps. “Stop talking and start moving,” she brought her mouth to his shoulder and nipped the flesh with her teeth.

“Eight years,” his voice was low and strained. “Maybe we should make up for that.” He let go, thrusting into her hard and deep.

She wanted this, wanted him. He was a primal force to be reckoned with; rocking inside of her so hard and deep that she thought she might break. She wouldn’t be passive. She wouldn’t just lie there and take it. She lifted her hips, meeting every thrust, using the muscles of her inner chamber to give just as good as she got.

“Damn,” he growled out as he pumped into her faster. “I can’t wait.”

“I’m not asking you to,” she was so close to coming. He didn’t have to wait for her. “Let go,” she told him.

“Ladies first,” he slipped his hand between their bodies, found her sensitive spot and pressed hard. He rubbed furiously as he continued to thrust into her. She came within seconds from his ministrations.

He pumped into her, once, twice and then again before falling over the edge of that sexual cliff with her, and when he did she felt him come inside of her. Colombia had been her hell, and this was her heaven. No matter what happened tomorrow, or the day after that, she would always remember this; remember him.

They lay together; their breathing settling back to normal as they held each other tight.

“I can’t believe we haven’t done that sooner,” he mumbled as he kissed her shoulder.

“You wanted to wait remember?”

“No, I mean sooner than that too. Like, eight years ago sooner.”

She laughed. “I wasn’t your type back then. I’m not really sure I’m your type now. But I’d like to be.”

“You’re my type in the only way that matters, Natalia. You’re in my heart. I didn’t realize how much until I lost you. When Alex got that call I felt the rage building inside of me and I knew we had to find you. We had to get you and bring you home. And when we missed you in Australia I was so pissed at myself for failing you that I thought the anger might destroy me. And had you died, had he harmed you in that way, I would have never forgiven myself.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Micah. You’re human. You can only do so much. And you found me. If it hadn’t been for all of you I don’t know where I would be right now…dead probably.” Because she was sure she wouldn’t have gotten away on her own. Assuming she could find people while she was on the run how was she to know that those people wouldn’t hand her over to Diego to save themselves?

“I was jealous of you and Alex,” he admitted.

“Why? We’re friends.”

“Because you seemed so close. And that night at the bar, he was going to take you home and you were willing to go with him, but you weren’t willing to go with me. You weren’t willing to let me take you home.”

“Because I was angry with you,” she admitted. “And angry with myself.”

“Why?”

“Well, for starters, I was angry with you because you were with Jocelyn when I knew you should have been with me—at least that’s the way I wanted it to be. I was angry with myself for being too afraid to tell you how I felt and for losing you. Jocelyn was perfect. I figured the two of you would probably end up getting married or something.”

He chuckled. “No way on that front. She’s high maintenance. She’s perfectly capable of maintaining herself, but she wanted me to leave my job. It’s why her father threw the party for us. It was a thank you type thing, but he also spent more time introducing me to some of his high paying friends in need of private security for their offices. I didn’t miss the meaning behind his actions. He wanted me to quit what I love and take on a job I didn’t love because that’s what she wanted for me.”