Uncovered (7 page)

He traced the back of one knuckle down the edge of her blouse, leaving behind a trail of sensation. At the top button, he paused, as though asking tacit permission.

Still kissing him, she slid her hands down to front of his shirt, popping first one button, then another and another free, allowing her access to hot, naked skin.

For a moment, he toyed with the tiny pearl closure before he slowly pushed it through the opening and caressed the inch or so of skin revealed. In a painstaking procession, he undid her shirt, parting the fabric long after Madeline had dispatched his own.

He eased the garment from her shoulders, leaving it draped down her arms, and finally abandoned her lips to suckle lightly at the curve of her shoulder.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured against her skin, and she let her head fall back on a stolen breath, the desire trembling through her lower belly and settling into a fiery agitation between her thighs.

Lifting his head, he trailed one finger down the thin strap of her bra. She stared at his face, the unvarnished wanting tightening his features only intensifying the slow burn in her body. He looked at her like she was some fabulous surprise he wanted to unwrap layer by layer.

She wanted to let him, wanted to go on touching him and being touched, wanted to forget everything but how being kissed by him was so absolutely damn incredible.

“This is not smart,” she breathed.

“I know.” That fingertip moved lower, stopped at the swell of her breast, touching, yet not.

“We barely know one another.”

“You’re right.” His hand tightened on her waist, the bandage a light scrape on bare skin.

“I’m not staying here. I’m going back to Florida in a few weeks.”

“Yes.” He dipped his head, resting his lips on her shoulder again. The movement brought her torso into closer contact with his. The heat and warmth slammed through her.

“Ash…”

“Hmm?” His mouth moved.

“I want you.”

He straightened to look at her, devilry dancing in his stormy green eyes. “Thank God.”

She rubbed her knuckles down his smooth jaw and nodded once, a sharp jerk of her chin. “Take me to bed.”

“Come on.”

He rose and pulled her with him, through a formal dining room and down a dim hall, to a darkened room at the rear of the house.

He’d been right the first time. She was dangerous. Doing this, taking her to his bed, probably ranked as one of his less-than-smart decisions, but he was going to do it anyway, consequences be damned and consigned to be dealt with later.

Because he simply couldn’t make himself walk away.

He slipped a finger beneath one thin bra strap and slid the knuckle down her chest, her skin smooth and heated under his easy touch. She watched him, hazel eyes slumberous and dark, and she took another step toward him, gliding her hands up his pecs to his shoulders, fingers exploring the dips and rises of his muscles.

Sensual mischief curled her lips and glinted in the depths of her eyes. “Nice.”

Chuckling, he lowered his head to kiss her. She didn’t hold anything back, but opened her mouth beneath his, stroking her tongue between his teeth with teasing little curls. Oh yeah, she was dangerous, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this overpowering urge to get closer, to strip everything away until there were only the two of them and the building desire. He sure as hell hadn’t felt this way with Angie or Layla or any of the safe women he’d dated the last few years.

“Madeline,” he mumbled against her lips and stroked his hands over her curves to rest at her hips. He dipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her low-rise jeans. The skin there was soft and hot too. God, she was hot all over. He couldn’t wait to have her all over him.

She purred and tilted her hips into his. Wanting spread through him, firing through his groin, his dick growing heavier, harder, with her nearness. She rubbed against him, a slow, naughty movement. “Very nice.”

Leaning back, she grasped his belt and went to work on the buckle. His mouth went dry and she held his gaze while she wrestled the buckle free and popped the button loose before lowering his zipper.

She wrapped her fingers around the waistband of his boxer briefs, brushing his stomach. Every muscle in the vicinity jumped. Shit, the woman wasn’t dangerous…she was deadly. She’d taken him from half-ready to damn-if-she-touched-him-he’d-lose-it in a few short moments. Was this Madeline, confident and utterly sexual, the real one? The wary, isolated Madeline had disappeared as soon as they walked through his bedroom door.

Head tilted back, she lifted her eyebrows. “Can’t wait to find out if you look as nice as you feel.”

He had to force air into his lungs, and his laugh came out shakier than he would have liked. “Damn, I like a woman who isn’t shy.”

The woman actually laughed. She shoved his jeans and briefs down a few scant inches, not quite exposing him. “Then you should love me.”

He opened his mouth, intending to parry with some smartass comment. Her hand cupping, squeezing, his pulsing erection through his jeans sent every coherent reply out of reach. Instead, he attempted to catch his breath and stiffened his knees so he wouldn’t end up on the floor.

She eased jeans and underwear down, his happy-to-see-her anatomy bobbing free. Slipping his shoes from his feet, she tossed them behind her and nudged him into stepping out of the denim and cotton garments. Kneeling before him, she slid those hot palms up both thighs. His belly tightened with an unbearable anticipation.

“Very, very nice.” She curved her fingers around him, tracing the vein running from base to tip. Holding him firmly, she swirled her tongue around the head. Sparks shot along his veins, and he groaned. Hell, he was gonna end up on the floor for sure, and God, if she kept that up, he was gonna cry.

Still fisting him, she took him into her mouth. Heat and moisture surrounded him, enveloped him. Head thrown back, he let his eyes slide closed.

Oh, yee-ha.

He tangled his uninjured hand in her hair. “Hell yeah, baby, that’s good.”

With a quick pinch on his thigh, she let him go. “I’m not your baby. Find another endearment.”

Humor spiked in him, tempering the raging need somewhat. “Honey, sweetheart, sugar…whatever you like.”

“I’m not much for love names, period, Hardison.” She twirled her tongue about him once more, like he was a melting ice cream cone on a hot day. “Although I like the way honey drips off your…lips.”

He laughed, and she chose that moment to take him to the back of her throat.

“Madeline,” he gasped, barely controlling the urge to lunge forward. His fingers tightened in her thick tresses, pulling.

She pinched him again. “Careful,” she mumbled around the head of his dick.

“Bossy, aren’t you?” The words came out on a strangled moan. Hell, she was killing him, with that slow spin of her tongue, the playful scrape of teeth, the way she took him deep then sucked the head, making him hurt with need, then slowing him down so he buzzed with a simmer of wanting.

“Mm-hmm.” She slowed on him, nails a light abrasion on his balls. Under her easy teasing, they tightened, desire rippling up into his belly and out to his bloodstream. If she didn’t stop that…

“Damn, honey, you’re dangerous.” He eased away and tugged her up, covering her lips with his. Dipping his tongue into her mouth, he skimmed the straps down her arms and fumbled with the back until the clasp sprang free. The silky little bit of nothing fell to the floor. He cupped her breasts, the rounded flesh filling his palms, and flicked his thumbs over hardened nipples.

“Oh, that’s nice too,” she murmured. She moved, shimmying out of jeans, until she was naked and pressed against him, belly nudging his erection while he toyed and played with the stiff peaks, tugging, kneading, pulling.

One arm wrapped around her waist, he caught a reddened nipple between his lips, nibbling, sucking. She arched, rubbing against him. “Yes, like that. Just like that.”

With a groan of approval, he lifted her against him and took the two long steps to the bed, stretching her across it, never taking his mouth from her breast. She dug her hands into his hair and shifted beneath him, panting.

“You’re strong. I like that.” She bowed into him, damp curls sliding along his belly. “Fuck me.”

Yeah, she was bossy. He liked that too. But she probably needed to know up front that he’d followed all the orders he was going to back during his military days. “Not yet.”

“Ash—”

“I said not yet.” He pressed open kisses down her belly, holding her hips and ignoring the throbbing at his stitches.

“I mean it.” Her thighs fell open and she gripped his hair, trying to pull him back up. “Fuck me now, hard.”

“Not…” he nipped the inside of her thigh, spreading her vulva and sliding his thumb along her wet folds, “…yet.”

He dropped his head, tasting her, and she moaned, twisting beneath him. He held her hips, keeping her still while he toyed with her clit with his teeth, sank his tongue inside her, savoring her. She pulled his hair, and he winced, tapped her hip.

“Not so hard, honey.”

“Very hard.” She pulled again, gasping and pushing into him. “Get up here. I want you inside me.”

He fumbled in the nightstand and readied himself in record time. She watched, the hunger in her face making his hands shake. He leaned over her, and she pulled her knees higher, spreading herself, opening herself further for him.

“Goddamn, that’s sexy.” Positioning himself, he drove forward. Slick flesh enveloped him, hot even through the thin latex, and he groaned, gritting his teeth against the intensity.

“Oh, yes.” She bucked up to meet his next thrust. “Do it harder. Do
me
harder.”

“Happy to oblige.” He pushed the words out, slamming into her. Strong muscles pulled at him, tightening, stroking. His arm buckled, and he rested on his elbow, sweat breaking on his brow. Good Lord, he hoped she was close because after her little oral performance on him earlier, he wasn’t sure how long he’d hold out.

Four thrusts later, the heat intensified, and she tightened around him, a raw scream breaking from her throat. The rapid spasm of her body around his shoved him over the edge, the force of sudden orgasm rushing through him. He drove deeper, holding himself still as the intensity drained him.

He slumped, forehead on her shoulder. She rubbed at his arms, tiny puffs of laughter escaping her. “Very, very nice.”

Chuckling, he rolled his brow against her skin and tried to gather his strength to move. The woman wasn’t dangerous. She was downright lethal. But at least he’d die a happy man.

She nudged him. “Have you lost the power of speech, Hardison?”

“One word for you, honey.” He was so out of breath that the laugh she dragged from him hurt. He lifted his head to grin down at her. “Yee-ha.”

Madeline rolled over and flung an arm across the bed where Ash should be. Her questing palm met cool sheets instead of warm male chest. She opened her eyes. The room lay shrouded in shadows, the kitchen light filtering down the hall but only alleviating the darkness so much.

She sat up, pushing her hair back and glancing at his bedside clock. Just after five. She’d stayed longer than she’d intended. Actually, she’d tried to slip away after the second time, when she’d shoved him back against the pillows and rode him in sweet retaliation of that whole “yee-ha” business of his.

An evil smile pulled at her mouth. She’d made him yell, too, and it hadn’t been “yee-ha”. Actually, she’d rather enjoyed hearing him call her name there at the end. None of the “baby” or “honey” mess, either. Simply two people who clicked in bed.

Which made his whole insistence that she stay a while afterward silly. Yes, she’d fallen asleep despite her best intentions, but he’d made it damn hard not to, with his big hands stroking her back while he held her and whispered in the dark.

She buried her face in her hands and blew out a long breath. Her mama was going to have a fit, even though Madeline had specifically told her she wasn’t sure when she’d be in. Living at home with those expectations again was even harder than she’d thought it would be.

Naked, she slid from the bed, the wood floor a chilly shock to her bare feet. She flicked on the lamp and prepared to gather her clothes.

Instead, she found them neatly folded and waiting on a straightback chair by the door. His small thoughtfulness brought a smile to her lips. He was decent. She liked that.

The warm smells of coffee and biscuits drifted from the kitchen. Dressed, she headed that way, only to find the room empty, save for a pan of buttermilk biscuits covered in foil and warming on the stove. Unable to resist, she grabbed one of the flaky delights and scavenged in a spotless refrigerator for a glass of milk.

A copy of
Farmer’s Report
lay on the counter next to a small stack of mail, and she flipped it open idly. He was obviously already up and working. She’d forgotten how early a farm day could begin. Silly of her to hover on disappointed because he wasn’t there to wake up with her. And if she was disappointed? It was only because the man was damn good in bed. The pulsing ache between her legs was testament to that.

Male voices flowed from the yard near the back porch. Glass halfway to her lips, Madeline stilled. Ash’s voice. And Tick’s.

Ah,
shit
.

Bet she could just imagine Tick’s reaction to her being here and there was no way he could miss her car with its Florida tags in Ash’s driveway. She steeled herself, putting on the bitch like a cloak.

One set of footsteps thudded on the stoop. “You just don’t get it, Tick.”

“I don’t want to get it.”

Oh yeah, they were talking about last night for sure. Anger curled through Madeline with poisonous tendrils. Just like Tick to be pissed off because she wasn’t good enough for his friend—

“It’s a simple system.” Annoyance tinged Ash’s voice.

“It’s simple to you. No one else can begin to comprehend it.” Tick laughed. “Ash, man, our accountant quit because he didn’t get your system. We’ve got to redo it, or it’s going to end up costing us money.”

They were talking about the farm’s books? Madeline cringed. Her anger drained, leaving the familiar shame and embarrassment. At least they hadn’t been present this time. She should be grateful for that much, that she hadn’t had the opportunity to jump down Tick’s throat like she had yesterday.

She dumped out her milk and rinsed the glass, her appetite gone, swamped in the curdling self-disgust. Why couldn’t she just apply the same critical thinking and reasoning she used in her job to her personal life?

Except she didn’t always apply it professionally, did she?

But you already know that, don’t you?

Tick’s voice, those damning words, pounding in her head.

Goddamn, she didn’t want him to be right. If he was right, then that meant she really was the horrible person he’d always believed her to be.

A truck rumbled to life outside, and boots thumped across the porch. She glanced around. Where was her purse? She needed to be out of here. The back door opened, a gust of icy wind coming with it, and Ash stepped inside, rubbing his gloved hands together, his sock-clad feet quiet on the floor.

“Damn, it’s cold out there.” He flashed that great grin at her. “Good morning.”