Hot as Hades (5 page)

She handed over the money, the girl made change, and handed her a room key. Lucky number thirteen. She tried not to read too much into the number.

Daisy pulled the truck up to the room, grabbed her military-issued duffel bag, her luggage, as well as the Raptor files from the floorboard. After she hauled all of her shit inside, she had a look around.  Daisy was pleasantly surprised by the accommodations. She could have done worse for the price. A queen-sized bed dominated the room, made up with white hotel linens, along with a large flat screen television, a small table by the windows, and a decent-sized bathroom.

She locked the door, but noted the rusty bolt lock. She didn’t bother throwing it in place, because one swift kick would break it. She’d ask to switch rooms if she stayed another night.

 But for the moment, she needed some sleep and doubted there would be any issues. She closed the drapes, which were made of a thick brocade material and it blotted out the sun pretty damn effectively.
Thank God.
She removed her .38 special from the duffel and placed it under the opposite pillow, in case of emergencies.

She’d gotten used to carrying a sidearm in the Marines and she didn’t intend to break the habit. If anything came through that door, she’d blow a big hole in it.

 She shucked off the uncomfortable stripper clothes in favor of a pair of white cotton panties and a shirt. Then wiped her makeup off and crawled into bed.

 And, for the first time in a good long while, fell right asleep.

Chapter Four

I’m not alone.

Daisy didn’t know what tipped her off exactly. A movement? A sound? But the hair trigger instinct for danger that had kept her alive on patrol, kicked into high gear. While living in Afghanistan, she’d learned to pay attention to feelings and hunches, which came from the primitive side of the brain, the one honed over millennia, from escaping saber toothed tigers and other predators. It had an uncanny way of saving your ass.

Right now, it pumped adrenaline through her veins and snapped her awake.

 “Who’s there? She could almost hear her drill sergeant echoing in her head.
Never show the enemy weakness. Stay alert. Be vigilant.
She tried to get up, but something heavy landed on top of her.

 No, not some
thing
.
Someone
.

“Mornin’, Wildcat.”

Cowboy. Again. Shit!

For a moment, she’d thought a Raptor had broken in or Voodoo with his ninja knives, come to slice her up. He yanked the chain on the nightstand lamp and a brilliant blaze of light filled the room. She blinked, trying to adjust to the sudden flash of brightness.

“You are really startin’ to piss me off,” he drawled.

“Right back at you,” she tossed back. Never let the enemy know you’re worried.

“Who are you and who do you work for?”

Clearly, no one suspects the biker inquisition.

He removed his hand from her mouth to let her speak, but she ignored the question, rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hands instead. “What? You are just going to dive into the Q and A portion of the meeting? Shouldn’t you be threatening me not to scream?”

 “Scream all you like. It won’t help you.” He straddled her hips, a leg on either side of her thighs.

She frowned, doubting him. The walls were thin. But Marines don’t call for help, unless absolutely necessary. The military ingrained the ability to be self-sufficient. “I’m not going to scream, but you might before I’m done.” She slipped a hand beneath the pillow.

And came up with nothing.

Her ace in the hole had disappeared and she had a sneaking suspicion where it had gone.

With a smirk, he pulled her gun from the back of his jeans. “Lookin’ for this?” He held it aloft like a trophy.

She narrowed her eyes. “Is this a thing with you? Sneaking up on women?” She put some “fuck you” in her attitude, but she was starting to worry now. No gun and pinned beneath the biker. This was a bad situation.

“Only the ones who drug me.”

She sighed. “I really hate you.”

He threw back his head and laughed.“Naw, I think you’re pissed I have the upper hand this time. But as much as I’d love to fight with you, Wildcat, I need some info. Who do you work for?”

She said nothing, sorely tempted to only spit out her rank and serial number.

“Might as well tell me. I ain’t goin’ anywhere without answers. I don’t think you’re a stripper,” he insisted.

Too bad. Fuck him and fuck his questions.

“And yet you’ve seen me strip.” She pushed at his hips, trying to loosen his hold, but if anything his legs clamped tighter around her body. For a moment, she forgot to breathe, picturing all those supple muscles beneath his tight jeans, honed to perfection from years of being clenched around the hot steel of his motorcycle as he rounded tight curves.

Dammit.
Why couldn’t he be ugly? Hand-to-hand combat should only be reserved for those you didn’t want to touch.

“You a fed?” he asked.

 “I work for Uncle Sam,” she said succinctly.

 “Explain.”

She balanced on her elbows. “I’m the few, the proud, the brave.”

“And that means?”

“What’s a matter, big bad biker man? Never seen that commercial?” She heaved a gusty sigh. “I’m a Marine.”

He blinked, clearly thrown by her answer. “Seriously? A chick Marine.”

She groaned
.
“No, a regular Marine.” It had taken a hell of a lot of effort, but she’d earned the respect of the men she’d served with. “Get your heavy ass off me,” she snarled. “We’ll handle this one on one, enough with the interrogation shit. I got crap to do today.”

He grinned, as though he found her offer, well,
cute.
“You think we’re going to settle this with fists? Sorry, Wildcat, when it comes to women, I’m a lover. Not a fighter.”

 “Then let me up and we’ll talk or something,” she gritted out. “I need some space.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, a wicked glint in his eyes.

Daisy refused to answer, just glared at him.

“You aren’t the boss here. I am. You should get used to it,” he said, his voice lowering.

 The biker had a several inches and at least sixty pounds on her, all of it muscle. She could knock a guy out when it came to a fight due to agility and skill, but if it came down to brute strength, she’d always lose out. She had to be twice as smart with an opponent as big as Cowboy. With a frustrated groan, she thrashed beneath him, trying to get some leverage to hoist his body off of hers, but she couldn’t pull free.

All of a sudden, he let out a low, pained groan.

 “Stop. Moving.” He said that very carefully, his heated gaze wandered over her body. Worst of all, she responded to the hunger in his eyes, nipples hardening. Her heartbeat picked up and she felt a traitorous slide of liquid heat spreading through her body.

Daisy froze.

She suddenly became aware of the picture she presented. The blankets rested across her waist, nearly revealing her breasts through the thin cotton t-shirt. One bare leg poked out from beneath the covers as well.

He leaned over her then, planting a hand on either side of the pillow. “You want me and I sure as hell want you.”

“No, I don’t!” she snapped.
Liar, liar.

“Don’t pretend with me, Daisy.” With that, he thrust his hips against hers and she could feel his cock, hard as a red hot poker in his pants, even through the fabric separating their bodies.

He lowered himself, going to his elbows, so she could feel his full weight upon her. God, she had the urge to wrap herself around him. She wanted to lose herself in his touch, his warmth.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this all night,” he murmured, just before he kissed her. Playfully nuzzling her lips with this own, feather light kisses,which teased more than satisfied. He traced her lips with the tip of his tongue, making her mouth open for him. She did, eagerly letting him in and he continued to tease her with this tongue, lightly sliding it against her own.

 “Tell me, Wildcat,” he demanded, after finally breaking the kiss.

“Tell you what?” she asked dazedly.

“That you want me. Tell me it all wasn’t an act.” He brought a fingertip to trace the outline of her areola through the shirt, carefully, frustratingly avoided her nipple.

Was he trying to drive her insane? She felt like slapping his handsome face and another wicked part of her wanted to wrap her legs around his hips and demand to be taken, hard and maybe a bit rough.

Oh yes…

That’s
exactly
what she craved, but she didn’t have the luxury of responding to her lust.

She had a job to do, the last thing she needed was a biker in the mix, but her body hadn’t apparently gotten that memo. Daisy had made a vow long ago. She would come first –her needs, her wants, her life. After watching her mother manipulated by a man as a kid, she’d vowed to never let one interfere. And in this case, she had a very important mission to complete.

Lust wouldn’t derail her from saving Rose.

Unfortunately, Cowboy fought dirty…

He brought his mouth to her nipple, still swathed in fabric, and then lapped at it, providing wet heat, but no real satisfaction. He sucked it into his mouth and she moaning, wanting his mouth on her skin, with no barriers between, just the delicious intense suction.

Damn him.

“Tell me you want me and I’ll give you everything you’ve been craving. I’ll fuck you long and hard, make you scream my name.”

She shook her head, but her pussy flamed to life at his words, readying itself to receive him

“Don’t lie. You were wet and needy for me at the club.”

Shit.
He’d noticed.

Cowboy pressed a quick kiss to her mouth. “Hmm. If these lips lie, I’ll get some truth from the other set.”

He lifted himself off her body and dug under the covers until he discovered her thighs beneath the twisted fabric. Cowboy snaked a hand up her thigh and she opened for him, unable to resist the large warmth of his palm, the promise of his touch. He teased her through the panties, rubbing the soaked crotch of underwear.

“Oh!” she moaned, unable to help herself. She opened for him, wanting him closer, needing his fingers inside, but he only stroked her through the fabric, teasing her until she ground against him, bucking her hips.

“Mmm, I knew you wanted me,” he crowed.

Bastard.

She scissored her legs around his arm and arched, rubbing her pussy.

“Oh no you don’t!” he growled as he used his other hand to pry her legs apart. With a growl, he gripped the waistband and yanked her panties down her legs.

Not that she could argue with him.

 “Christ, you’re wet,” he muttered, as he glided his fingers over her pussy lips, tracing them.

“Yes!” she groaned. “Stroke me.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.” He played with her clit, grazing it at first, circling it. He rubbed back and forth, until she bucked against him, trying to get more pressure, and then he eased away, stroked the lips of her sex instead.

“You’re trying to kill me!” she complained.

Cowboy pressed his mouth against her ear. “I’m just returnin’ the favor, Wildcat. You got me so hot and bothered at the club, I nearly came in my pants.” Then, he rubbed her a little harder, causing her to arch.

He slid two fingers inside her then and she gasped at the intrusion. She kept thinking about his cock inside her. She’d felt him earlier, she knew it would be large and thick, insistent when it slid inside her slick flesh. Cowboy plunged in and out of her and she arched her hips, moving in time with his thrusts. Then, he manipulated her clit, rubbing harder.

Oh God.

She moved at his command, hips rolling in time with his talented hands. “Come on, Wildcat,” he whispered fiercely. “Give it to me.” With a wail, the orgasm slammed into her, rippling through her body in a wave of pleasure.

With a pained sound, he removed his slick fingers, and pushed the wet fabric out of his way to reveal her breasts. The nipples had pebbled up and he painted them with her moisture, making her squirm.

“Mmm, such a pretty sight,” he crooned as he bent to taste her, sucking each nipple until it was clean.

When he finished, he pinned her with his eyes. “I’m going to get you wet again and then I’m going to fuck you. Again and again.”

God, the man is trying to kill me…

Suddenly Johnny Cash’s
Folsom Prison Blues played.
Cursing, he grabbed the cell from his pocket. “Yeah?” he said, and then after a pause he spoke again. “I’m on it, Cap. See you in a few.” He tucked the phone back in his pants and laid there staring at her, his breath coming in harsh pants.

She shifted beneath him and he groaned.

“Don’t move. Hold. Still.” He closed his eyes and blew out a breath very slowly. “Unfortunately, we have to cool it. For now.” He ran a possessive hand down the length of her body. “It’s a damn shame.”

Cowboy slid off of her and staggered to the bathroom. He paused at the door. “Don’t even think about trying to leave. I’ll just chase you down again. With that, he slammed the door shut. Then she heard the sound of water running.

Leave? I can barely think.

Daisy rolled over on her side, feeling dazed. She’d just had an orgasm, but she wanted another, and another. She had a crazy feeling the biker had created a craving in her that wouldn’t go away.

Briefly she thought about grabbing up her gear and bolting, but she wanted to settle this thing and be done with it. She pulled it together enough to wiggle into a pair of jeans and bra, and gathered her hair up in a ponytail, while he busied himself in the bathroom. Finally, he emerged and he seemed to be calmer, more in control. He leaned against the wall and folded his arms over her chest. She wondered if he didn’t trust himself to get any closer.

“Let’s try another question. Tell me what you were doing at the club,” he urged.