Read Wicked and Dangerous Online
Authors: Shayla Black and Rhyannon Byrd
Slowly, Decker opened the closet door, ducking out from under the coats and setting
the table leaf back in place. He eased the window open and crawled through, landing
on his feet on her little back patio. Her yard was small, but she’d made it her own
lush little garden with ivy and delicate flowers in white, gold, and purple. He was
clueless about their species, but he’d bet that Rachel loved it out here. She’d made
this her little oasis, complete with a padded wrought iron chaise in one corner where
she likely got the most shade. She’d left behind an empty teacup and a magazine on
the little wooden table beside it. He kind of wished that he’d get to spend time with
her in this space. As she lifted her face to the sun, she would smile and glow.
And he needed to get his head out of his ass. He wouldn’t have long to right this
wrong. S.I. Industries always had dirty work. Defense contracting was populated with
a bunch of good ol’ boys whose middle names all seemed to be Greed. He didn’t have
an assignment at the moment, but Decker knew it wouldn’t be long. Since Xander and
Javier had started sharing that lush blonde they now called wife, they seemed far
more intent on enjoying the honeymoon part of their marriage. Or were they on a babymoon
now? After all, they would be daddies by next May. The trio seemed disgustingly happy.
Decker tried not to, but he wondered why he’d never found someone he wanted to spend
more than a few hours with. Rachel had eventually moved on from Owen, but at least
she’d believed herself in love enough once to roll the dice. He’d never felt much
beyond his dick twitch.
Shoving aside the thought, he climbed the fence and hopped onto the little walkway
outside her kitchen window. Not two minutes later, he pulled up in front of her house
again. In normal circumstances, he’d bring her a bottle of wine or at least flavored
condoms, but he didn’t dare leave her alone long enough to retrieve them, just in
case.
After a little warning roar, he parked his bike out front and stowed his helmet. He
grabbed a few necessities from his saddlebags and headed to her front door, then rang
the bell. A long minute passed before she flipped on the porch light and opened the
door.
Light from the foyer table off to her right spilled around her dark hair. Her skin
looked smooth and ivory, untouched by the sun and devoid of makeup. Her brown eyes
were wide and a bit wary, framed by thick black lashes. She’d slicked a little gloss
over her plump lips, and he couldn’t wait to get them under his again.
Rachel stepped back to admit him. “Hi. You were quick.”
“I was motivated.” He stepped in, then shut and locked the door behind him with a
smile.
She wore a short, silky robe in white with tiny pink flowers on it. Decker didn’t
know much about women’s clothes, but he was pretty sure she couldn’t have on much
under that. Her pert nipples beaded the front. If he did this right, he could have
her naked and flat on her back in five minutes.
With a nervous smile, she backed across the foyer. “Coffee?”
“I didn’t come here for anything you could whip up in the kitchen, beautiful. But
if you need a minute to take a deep breath and get your head together, I’ll be patient.”
She let out a shaky breath. “Sorry. I’ve never done this, invited a man I barely know
over to . . .”
“Do naughty things designed to make your heart race and your throat raw from screaming?”
The sweetest little blush crept up her cheeks. “That’s one way of putting it. But
it’s . . . um, never been like that for me.”
Decker frowned. The last thing he really wanted to do now was talk about her bedroom
gymnastics with the ex, especially when he felt sure there was a whole naked wonderland
under that robe waiting just for him. Sadly, she’d given him an opening, and this
might be the only time to gracefully dig information out of her about Owen. He had
to nail down a better motive . . . or see if he could take the douche off his suspect
list. It
was
possible that someone else had it in for her, though he couldn’t fathom why given
how sweet she was. And she wasn’t going to relax until she felt more comfortable with
him. Her lack of experience, while weirdly endearing, was a hindrance.
He grabbed her hand and led her from the foyer, through the kitchen, then down a couple
of steps into a sunken living room area that he could finally take the time to observe
since he wasn’t focused on finding clues. Easing back into the beige velvet sofa,
he glanced over the patterned rugs and mirrored accents that gave the room with the
yellow-cream walls a light feel. Built-in shelves overflowed with books of all kinds,
along with more pictures and tchotchkes. Shimmery drapes, the same tone as the walls,
covered big windows that overlooked the oasis he’d seen out back earlier. Overall,
the place was light, happy, homey—somewhat like her.
The few places he’d called “home” over the years had been mostly shitholes, barracks,
or transient motels. He’d usually gone wherever duty called, without any thought to
putting down roots or building a future, but now . . . Xander and Javier had obviously
planted themselves in Lafayette to play house with London, so he suspected he was
here for the duration. Other than the humidity in the summer, here actually wasn’t
bad. He’d grown used to the freeways and skyscrapers of Los Angeles over the last
few years, but Decker was thinking that he could kind of get used to a place like
this, even having a home for once. The faint scent of vanilla lingered, like Rachel
had baked or burned candles or something equally feminine. He liked it.
He liked her.
With a tug on her hand, Decker prevented her from sitting beside him. Instead, he
pulled her onto his lap. She wriggled, as if trying to find a comfortable spot. Her
lush ass rooting around on his cock nearly had him groaning and tearing into her clothes
like a beast, but he managed to refrain.
“I can’t wait to get this robe off of you and do things to your delectable body that
are probably only legal in foreign countries.” Decker winked, then stroked his knuckles
along her exposed skin beside the lapel of her robe, over the swell of her breast.
“But when you tell me it’s never been really good for you, I want to know what disappointed
you in the past. Tell me about the last time you had sex.”
THREE
RACHEL’S BIG, DARK EYES WIDENED WITH SHOCK, AND SHE
shook her head. “I’d rather not. You’re going to let me ‘steer,’ so it won’t be an
issue.”
As she moved in to kiss him, Decker turned his head just enough to graze the soft
skin of her neck with his lips, then he rested them on her lobe. “Even so, you need
to give me a little information so I understand what you don’t like.”
She eased back and met his stare, then tried to wriggle off his lap. He tightened
his arms around her, and finally, she sighed.
“It was with my ex-husband,” she murmured, looking away. “Owen was always just so . . .
serious. I don’t know how to put it. It seemed like something he tolerated more than
loved.”
“Which made you feel somehow responsible, so you didn’t enjoy it either?”
Her gaze bounced back up to his, as if he’d surprised her with his perception. It
didn’t take a rocket scientist . . . but that deduction was apparently beyond a physicist.
Go figure.
“Yes.” She nodded, and he saw a sweet little flush spread across her cheeks. “He didn’t
ever want to talk about it.”
Then Owen deserved lousy sex.
Dumbass
. “Anything else?”
“It’s water under the bridge.” She squirmed uncomfortably.
“I don’t think so. Your last time in the sack sucked. Communication is key. We’ve
got to have some if you want me to give you a better time. Besides, how are you going
to tell me what you want when we’re naked if you can’t say it now?”
She chewed on that plump little lip for a moment. “All right. I don’t think he knew
where I was . . . um, sensitive.”
That didn’t surprise Decker, but he had to rein in a laugh at her delicate phrasing.
“You mean he didn’t have a clue where your clit was and you wished like hell he did?”
Her blush deepened. “Are you always this direct?”
“I don’t see any sense in beating around the bush.” He grinned. “Especially yours.
It sounds like you’d be pretty happy if I could shake it once or twice.”
Though her jaw dropped and she smacked his shoulder, she was smiling. “That’s crude!”
“But honest. How was the rest of your relationship?”
“Well, not too good or we wouldn’t be divorced.”
Oh, sass. How much fun would it be to silence her bratty mouth with a kiss that made
her toes curl before he turned her into a pile of goo? “Are you two still civil or
did it end too ugly?”
“It’s mostly polite. Owen sometimes loses his temper. I just ignore him.”
And that might really be pissing the ex off. Definitely, he wanted to keep digging
here, but couldn’t go too deep now without making her suspicious. When he got a free
moment, he’d look up the asswipe and see if his face matched the guy who’d solicited
him to commit murder. Until then, he had to tread lightly with the questions about
her ex—except sexually. Rachel hid a wealth of repressed desire.
“Did he ever do
anything
in bed that you liked?”
“Not really. You’re probably wondering why I married him. My friends back in Florida,
where I’m from, asked me that all the time. Owen is eight years older than me, and
at first I liked how knowledgeable he seemed, but that didn’t extend to sex. It took
me years to realize that he liked to hear himself talk more than listen. When the
topic was something he couldn’t pontificate about, he changed it.” She cocked her
head and stared. “Do you psychoanalyze every woman before you sleep with her?”
Decker figured that was his cue to shut up. “You said you want a man who listens.
I’m trying. How do you think I can give you what you want if I don’t understand you
even a little? Do
you
know what you want?”
Rachel reared back. A million thoughts flitted across her face. She looked angry,
then sad, then downright confused. Decker held her tighter. She didn’t have a clue
what her true desires were, but he’d show her as soon as she got over this ridiculous
notion of being in charge.
“It’s orgasm. It shouldn’t be this difficult.”
Was she saying that a man had never given her one? The idea of being the first to
succeed damn near made him salivate. Yes, it was probably stupid and unnecessarily
territorial, but attraction wasn’t logical. And he didn’t think it was logic she needed
as much as a hot, ripe, raunchy fucking. And then to be held.
He smiled. “That depends on you. If you really know what flips your switch and can
express it clearly, we’ve got no worries. If you don’t, you may not enjoy sex with
anyone until you figure it out.”
“What about you?” she challenged. “You seem like you don’t have any problems just . . .
blurting what you want.”
He didn’t blurt, just usually commanded. That wasn’t relevant to the conversation
now. She was getting worked up and worried. Time to calm her down.
Brushing his knuckles over the soft swell of her breast again, he watched with satisfaction
as goose bumps raised on her arms and legs. “Men are simple. We’re almost always ready.
We don’t have swells and folds. Our most sensitive nerve endings aren’t hidden. You
pay attention to a guy’s cock, and I guarantee he’s going to like it.”
Rachel pressed her lips together and tried not to giggle, but she failed. “The way
you put things . . . My mama would positively expire.”
Decker grinned at her sweet, if exaggerated, Southern accent. “I’m not interested
in your mama.”
She smiled but didn’t quite meet his gaze. “Kiss me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” That was one demand he didn’t mind giving in to.
• • •
DECKER BARELY PUT
his hands on her, and she began to tremble. Everything about him was so strong and
masculine and called to the female inside her. Nestled on his lap, she sat just a
tad shorter than him. And his wide shoulders made her sigh. He seemed to surround
her, make her feel delicate. Though she’d tried so hard to be independent and stand
on her own two feet since the divorce, Rachel admitted that she liked feeling tiny
in his arms. She wasn’t sure what she’d done to snag his attention, but she would
just be grateful to spend the night of her birthday with someone as gorgeous as him
and hope there was an orgasm or two in her future. He looked more than capable.
His rough hand gently cradled the crown of her head, strong fingers burrowing into
the strands of her hair. With a little tug, he tilted her head back. His mouth hung
a breath over hers. She blinked up at him, pulled into his hungry blue eyes with their
thick fringe of black lashes. What would his lips feel like on her skin? What would
those brawny hands do to her body?
“Tell me how you want me to kiss you,” he whispered.
Rachel frowned. She had to explain it?
“Passionately.”
“Slow? Fast? Deep? Teasing?” he challenged. “You want me to seduce or tongue-fuck
that pretty mouth?”
Her stomach clenched. Her sex pulsed. His words alone aroused her.
She gripped his big shoulders, her breath coming fast. “All of it.”
A knowing smile spread across his face. “What do you want after that, beautiful? If
you had to spell it out in excruciating detail, tell me what you’d say?”
Mind racing, she stared at him. Mercy, she’d assumed she had a hundred ideas, but
when she tried to imagine perfect lovemaking . . . she just pictured herself writhing
in ecstasy under him. That wasn’t very specific, and sort of proved his point. She’d
read hundreds of fabulous descriptions of earth-shattering sex, but she didn’t know
exactly what would feel good to
her
. Still, she wasn’t ready to put the control of her pleasure in another man’s hands,
even if he seemed more competent than Owen, not until she’d explored and gained some
confidence.
“Can we experiment?”
He shrugged. “Sure. So you want to start with that kiss now?”
Decker was teasing her, dragging it out, making her wait. She wriggled on his lap,
seeking relief for the sweet pressure building between her legs. “Yes.”
His grip in her hair tightened. He readjusted her body so that she straddled his hips.
Then he swooped down, his mouth covering hers, at the same time he wrapped his free
arm around her waist and jerked her flush against him. Rachel had no idea how many
teeth were actually in his zipper. But when his steely erection rubbed against her
tender folds, sending tingles scattering through her, she had no trouble believing
that it caged a hungry beast.
As he nudged her lips apart, Decker swept inside like he knew exactly how to make
a woman moan. He ravished her mouth as if she made him desperate. A passionate moan
escaped her throat, and he greedily swallowed the sound. Heat rolled through her body,
into her peaking nipples, drifting right between her legs, as he moaned and crushed
her against him.
With a twist of his fingers, he forced her to slant her head so he could sink deeper
into the kiss. She should protest at the way he was taking over. But all those BDSM
romances on her e-reader had introduced her to the idea of a very alpha male—something
Owen would never be. Those Dominant men very nearly read a woman’s mind so that they
could unravel her and give her the ultimate pleasure. She’d assumed that was just
fiction. But the way Decker took her mouth, prowling every recess, tasting and luring
her closer only to pull back, nip at her lips, pause and stare, then kiss her again
like he couldn’t stand a moment of separation between them made her rethink her assumptions.
They shared breaths. She tasted the spicy flavor of Decker’s kiss. Instead of sating
her, she only craved more. The way his mouth took hers . . . It was as if he owned
her. Why did she like that idea so much? They were strangers, and he’d probably be
gone in a few hours. Tonight was just a fantasy.
“God, you taste so fucking sweet. I want to devour all of you, but I can’t stand to
stop kissing you. Jesus . . .”
A thrill of feminine pride filled her. She’d never really been truly wanted. Owen
hadn’t been demonstrative. He hadn’t really even liked kissing. Too many germs. Sure
she’d had a few dates in high school, but they’d been with boys. Decker was a
man
.
Rachel felt herself melting into him, wanting just a few moments of his strong, sure
embrace. With every breathless kiss, their lips met more urgently. Dizzying arousal
swam headily through her veins like a drug he used to keep her lips his captive. The
liquid pleasure spread, and it overtook through her veins. He was everything she’d
ached for—and more.
“I want this damn robe off,” he growled against her lips before he seized them again,
plundering deep. He gave her only a moment’s respite to process his words before he
eased back with another snarl. “Now, Rachel. I want to see your pretty nipples. I
want them in my mouth. I want them hard on my tongue. They’re mine tonight, and you’re
going to give them to me.”
With his gruff demand, her stomach plunged to her toes. The stiff points tightened,
and she could feel them chafing against the silk as if pointing their way to Decker.
In that moment, she wanted to give in so, so badly. Could he feel how damp her panties
were?
Even if he could, she still had to be responsible for her own pleasure. Sure, she
could let him do what he liked. She’d probably even love it. Likely, there would be
multiple orgasms in her future. But wanting to explore sex wasn’t just about reaching
nirvana. It also meant growing her confidence and figuring out who she was sexually.
At twenty-nine, she didn’t know what made her blood sing or what made her feel most
like a woman. She also didn’t know much about giving pleasure. Owen hadn’t been big
into foreplay.
“Eventually, I will,” she promised, blinking up at him. “But I’m in control, remember?
You promised.”
His eyes narrowed, and his fingers tightened in her hair. The hunger in his eyes gnawed
at her composure. Everything about that look made her want to rip off her robe and
offer herself up to him.
“All right. What do you want, beautiful?”
“You naked. Let me look at you,” she whispered. Though she couldn’t wait to see him,
Rachel wished her answer sounded more certain. Why couldn’t she be more vixen and
less wallflower? And crap, when would she stop blushing?
“All right. I’m all yours.” Decker spread his arms wide like he couldn’t wait to flash
her.
This was going to be good.
Rachel unbuttoned his black shirt and peeled away the material clinging to his broad
shoulders with strained seams. She shoved it down his arms, revealing biceps that
bulged and rippled as he helped her by shrugging out of the garment and tossing it
to the floor. His dog tags rattled, then pinged against his hard chest, where he was
muscled from the firm pectorals half covered by a patch of dark hair and some sort
of military tattoo to the eight-pack of abs that disappeared into low-slung denim.
Her jaw dropped. She almost swore that she could glimpse something shadowy and male
just below that black and silver buckle helping his pants cling to his hips.
Decker grinned as he stared back at her with sexual challenge. “You want me more naked
than this?”
“Yes.”
Please
.
“You got it.” He lifted her off his lap, copping a feel of her thigh and trying to
brush her robe away.
Rachel wagged a finger at him. “You’re awfully pushy.”
“Probably why I’m in trouble a lot.” He grinned. “But let’s see if I can make you
forget that.”
Decker opened his belt buckle with a clink and released every one of the teeth holding
back his waiting erection. Then he dropped his pants into a careful puddle on the
floor and stood, totally naked.
Holy mother of all that’s . . . whoa!
He’d been commando. No pesky underwear to bother with. Just another tattoo that looked
like an eagle talon on his hip and inch after imposing inch of his massive erection.
She swallowed.
“If you work for the post office, I’ll let you inspect my package.” He sauntered the
two steps back to the sofa and stood over her. “Hell, I might even let you if you
don’t.”