Catch Me If You Can (11 page)

She laughed. “As long as it doesn’t involve big black pots sitting over an open fire, I guess not
.
”

“I think you can safely rule that out.”

She cocked her head and said somewhat pointedly, “W
ell then, speaking of safety…
”

It surprised Tag to know he could still blush. There were a number of women in his profession, and given the substandard living conditions and harsh realities they often faced, few of them were the shy or retiring sort. So why this woman’s directness would catch him off guard the way it did, much less affect him so viscerally, was a mystery. Which was perfectly fine with him. He lived to solve mysteries.

“I might have been in the jungle a bit too long, but given that, I’ve been inoculated against just about everything a human being can be given shots for. And my employers are pretty demanding when it comes to medical screening. I’d like to say it’s because they worry about our health, but it’s really just an insurance issue.” She hugged the sweaters she still held and her smile spread into one that was both amused, and if he was seeing right in the dim light, affectionate. Imagine that.

“What?” he asked her, when she simply continued to study him, her expression unchanging.

“You’re the most unusual man I’ve ever met. Which, given that I live in the back of beyond, possibly isn’t saying much, but I’ve been to university, spent some time liv
ing in the big city, and well…
” She lifted a bare shoulder, and he thought she was possibly the most lovely woman he’d ever seen.
“You fascinate me,” she said.

“
The feeling is decidedly mutual.”

Her face lit up, and though it probably wouldn’t hold up under prolonged analysis, at that moment, he felt quite smitten. Beyond, even, the possibility that there might be actual sex in his near future.

“I appreciate the medical history,” she told him, “and if it makes you feel any better, I’m my own employer and I care about my health for both personal and insurance reasons. But my safety query was actually of a more
…
immediate nature.” At his perplexed look, she asked, “Were you ever a Boy Scout? You know, their motto? Always be prepared?” She leaned forward then and rested her elbows on the back of the front seat. “Has it been so long that you don’t carry a spare in your wallet, is what I’m asking.”

“I guess I really have been left in the wilds for too long,” he admitted, heat again filling his cheeks. “I promise I’m not usually so slow on the uptake.”

She folded her hands and rested her chin on them. Her dimples winked out at him as she smiled. “No, I definitely didn’t get that impression earlier.”

He leaned forward, so their faces were mere inches apart. “I’m usually a patient, methodical type, but I can move quickly when properly motivated.”

“Don’t sell patient and methodical short.”

Now it was his turn to study her face with an amused smile of his own. “Does it strike you as completely bizarre, as it does me, that we’re having a semi-rational discussion about having sex, and not only have we not known each longer than a few hours, but I have no idea what your name is?”

“I thought about that earlier, when you were still out digging tunnels. I couldn’t decide which was more appealing. A mysterious and wildly romantic snowstorm fling with a nameless s
tranger. Or a far more fleshed-
out fantasy—no pun intended there—where I give in to my insatiably curious nature and learn everything there is to know about you, so I can pine for you ever so romantically long after you’re gone. Not because I’m expecting this to lead to something, mind you. Obviously you’re just passing through. A plus, I might add, seeing as if I had an inkling this could actually go anywhere,
I’d never do, well, what I’m doing. But we will part, never to cross paths again, so I’m far more free to be indulgent and act on whatever whim strikes me.”

“So I’m an indulgence. I find that strangely flattering.”

She beamed. “As you should. But, back to my original dilemma. An air of mystery is quite alluring, of course. But with details, I can fully embellish any future sexual scenarios I might need to dream up about you. You know, to
…
facilitate things during those lulls that so often happen in a single girl’s life.”

He laughed. “Are you always this direct?”

Her smile was one of self assurance, but not arrogance. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so sexy.

“I’ve no real patience for subterfuge,” she said. “Life is too short to spend any real amount of
ti
me being anything other than straightforward. I find it gets me where I need to be much more quickly.” She lifted one hand, and ran her fingertips over his mouth. “Which leaves me mo
re time to…
indulge myself.”

He caught her fingertips in his mouth, then slowly pulled them in. He wished there were more light. He wanted to see that punch of awareness, watch her pupils expand, witness the intoxicating effect his touch had on her. Intoxicating to him, that is. How had he forgotten the simple pleasure of turning a woman on, watching her respond to his touch, his voice, his kiss?

Of course, he couldn’t recall ever having his senses quite so alert to every tiny thing, so hyperaware of something as small as her soft intake of breath, or the instinctive reflex of her pressing her thighs together against the need burgeoning between them. It wasn’t that he bulldozed through sex without taking
ti
me to appreciate the finer points of intimacy
…
it was just that he hadn’t been with anyone who elicited this kind of reaction in him to make him care enough to notice. Something about her calle
d to every one of his senses…
and not just the blatantly obvious one presently throbbing painfully inside his trousers.

He slid her fingers from his mouth, but held her gaze as he shifted his weight back and reached blindly behind him. First he cracked the window a tiny bit—because the need to check the tailpipe had ceased to be all that overwhelmingly important—then he dug out his wallet from the glove compartment and fished out the lonely condom that resided behind his social security card.

His smile was somewhat abashed when she reached out and took the travel-worn packet from his fingers. After examining it for a moment, she gave him a crooked smile that did funny things to his insides. “Fo
r a guy who gets around a lot…
you need to get around a lot more.”

He grinned, thinking he’d never laughed this much with anyone when sex was on the immediate agenda. He decided right then and there that humor would be a far greater prerequisite for him in all future couplings. “You might have a point. But I’m quite liking where I’ve gotten to right at the moment.”

Then he shucked his coat and made her squeal quite delightfully as he slid his body over the seat and finally took her fully into his arms.

Chapter 8

H
ow he’d maneuvered that big body of his into the backseat of such a tiny car without serious injury, Maura had no idea. Nor, at the moment, did she care. He shifted around so he sat in the middle of the seat, and pulled her across him, so she straddled his lap. The sweaters she’d been clutching had fallen who cared where. All she knew was that a pair of big, warm hands currently gripped her waist, and she was facing an embarrassingly lush smorgasbord of broad, muscled chest and big shoulders. Her only dilemma was whether to attack first, or let him steer the course.

If only her other dilemmas in life presented her with such difficulty.

“
You have the most amazing skin,” he said, taking the decision from her hands, by moving his own so that his thumbs skated up the center of her torso.

“I’m glad you think so,” she managed, gasping slightly when his hands came to rest just beneath the weight of her breasts. “Came with the package, so I really can't take any credit.” Jesus and Mary, his hands were warm and wide, and his fingers so long and strong. Her nip
pl
es ached to the point of pain, already in dire need of his touch. Straddling him as she was, she had a pretty fair idea they were both in dire need. She was usually the direct stimulation sort, but she was pretty sure she was a brush of a fingertip away from climaxing. Still, she had to fight against shifting her hips that wee bit to find out.

She arched her back in silent invitation instead, gripping his knees with her hands for support. She was torn between wanting that sweet pressure between her thighs to shoot up and push her over the edge, and wanting to delay the inevitable for as long as deliciously possible. He slid one arm around her back, bracing her, as he slid one palm up and over her bare breast, sliding her painfully tight nipple ever so exquisitely down between his fingers.

She was already moaning, pressing the inside of her thighs tigh
tl
y against the hard length of his, as he drew her closer and took her other, poor neglected nipple into the star
tl
ing warmth and wetness of his mouth. Her moan turned into a much more
vocal groan of satisfaction. “
Jesus, you can just never stop that and
I
would die happy and complete.”

She could feel him grin against her skin. A small moan of disappointment slipped out as he stopped swirling his tongue so expertly around her now very lucky nipple and lifted his head.

“You certainly don’t leave a man guessing about how he’s doing.”

She gasped through a light laugh as he flicked the tip of her nipple wit
h his tongue, all the while gentl
y drawing his open palm over her other one, grazing it so ligh
tl
y she thought she’d die from the sensations shooting through her. “I’m a firm believer in not leaving anything to chance if
I
don’t have to,” she managed.

“Well,” he said softly, between teasing tongue flicks,
“I’m quite apprec
iative of the response. It’s… motivat
ing
.”

She dropped her head back and gave herself up fully to his clever tongue and fingers. “Lucky me.”

“We could debate who’s luckier, but that would waste valuable time,” he murmured against the now damp skin between her breasts. “I’m a firm believer in making the most of what’s given me.”

“Here, here,” she sighed, as he kissed his way up to her neck, those perfectly perfect palms covering both aching breasts now.

“Yes,” he murmured, “come here.” He wove his fingers into her hair, and pulled her to him. Damp nipples met the warm, bare skin of his chest, and they both moaned their approval as he took her mouth in a very deliberate kiss. He didn’t wait for her to open to him this time, penetrating her with his tongue in exactly the way she prayed he’d penetrate her with other, hopefully equally clever body parts later on.

She rested her hands only briefly on the seat back on either side of his head. Wanting—needing—to touch him as fully as possible, she slid her fingers into all those luxurious curly locks of hi
s, surprised a bit at how softl
y textured they were. She’d never known just how decadent it could feel to have a man’s hair fill her fists. She had an inkling now of why men so coveted long locks on their women. It would be a crime to shear off this glorious mane, especially when it felt so wonderful tangling around her fingers. And made yanking him to fit her mouth the way she wanted so much easier.

His groan of approval only served to encourage her further. She enjoyed being an equal partner in the bedroom—or the backseat, as the case may be. It thrilled her to realize he didn’t mind a bit of a tussle himself. She dueled with his tongue, loving those big, strong hands skimming back down her waist, gripping her hips
hard. S
he liked that he wasn’t too gentl
e with her. It didn’t alarm her, but rather aroused her even more, that he trusted her to guide him if she didn’t like what he was doing. She didn’t think that was going to be a problem. She was hardly fragile. And from the feel of him swelling rather magnif
icently between her legs…
neither was he.

She left his mouth and trailed kisses across the long line of his jaw, around to the side of his neck. His cock
leaped against her when she softl
y bit his earlobe. So she did it again, albeit just a lit
tl
e harder.

“Hungry are we?” he murmured against the side of her neck.

He was pushing his fingers inside the waistband of her pants. Just the feel of his fingertips brushing along the sensitive skin where the base of her spine ended and the swell of her buttocks began, then on down further, had her squirming against him. He pushed a bit farther, his breath warm and heavy against her neck. This had never been a part of foreplay for her before, and she wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with it now. But it felt undeniably, wickedly wonderful.

“I’m feeling a bit famished
myself,” he whispered, then gentl
y pressed his teeth along her shoulder.

Shaking now, she slid her hands between them and fumbled her pants open. As he slid his hands fully down, cupping her bottom, her zipper slid down, providing him even greater access
…
if she wanted him to have
it. His fingertips traced lightl
y down the crease between her cheeks, so extraordinarily sensitive, making her shudder against him. She lifted up, which had the added benefit of putting her nipples in direct range of his mouth and tongue.

The combination of his fingertips drifting ever closer to where she so badly wanted him to touch her, and the wet warmth of his mouth closing first over one nipple,
suckling, making her gasp, moan, befo
re shifting to the other one…
was driving her wild.

He palmed her cheeks fully now, so warm, so close, his fingers brushing along the back edge of her inner thighs. Her pants shifted down her hips and she found herself pushing against thos
e questing fingers. So close…
so close.

They both groaned when he finally found her. A quick brush over her clit had her shuddering, made her want to beg for more. “Yes,” she breathed, wanting to tell him what she wanted, and at the same time, wanting him to do what he wanted without direction.

He’d been doing pretty bloody well so far.

Then he was lifting her up and forward. His mouth had left her breasts and was trailing downward. He slid his body down a bit, his knees coming up behind her, spreading her thighs and his wider. He kissed his way past her navel, then slid his hands free, making her whimper in protest. But then he was shoving her pants down as far as he could, and pulling her up, and closer, so he could—oh dear Lord.

She hadn’t thought it possible, but his tongue was far more clever than she’d given him credit for thus far.

She arched, head thrown back as he flicked his tongue repeatedly across that most sensitive bud, drenching her, driving her to a frenzy, then backing off just when she thought she was going to splinter into a thousand pieces. Her thighs shook with need, her hands trembled as she dug her nails hard into his shoulders.

He slid down further still, pitching her forward until her bare breasts were pushed into the soft fabric of the seat back above his head. She groaned at the added stimulation, thinking she couldn’t take much more. She was proven immediately wrong.

He moved his palms up the backs of her thighs as his tongue continued to flick over her. Fingers slid around
…
then up
…
then in. She gasped loudly, then groaned in exquisite, protracted pleasure as he finally let her climb all the way to the top, then pushed her over. She swore she saw stars as she climaxed. She shuddered so hard, it was a miracle he was able to continue perpetrating such wickedly delightful deeds. And yet he did. Pushing her up again. A first for her, and so soon after.

And she’d thought herself wanton in bed. Hah.

The second climax came quicker, wasn’t as strong. More like riding the same wave only longer, and longer still. Stretching it out un
ti
l she couldn’t wring one more drop of pleasure out of the ride.

She wasn’t sure how she managed to keep from collapsing into a trembling, knobby heap as the final quivers smoothed out. He gripped her hips, steadying her as he shifted her back so he could slide up again.

She managed to push her hair from her face and smile at him, hoping it didn’t look as loopy as it felt. “I’m not sure I quite believe you’ve been as alone as you claim,” she said, her voice barely more than a raspy whisper.

His grin was wide and gleaming, and so confident it had her clenching all over again.

“As it happens, I’m quite good at finding buried treasure.”

She laughed, then squealed as he dumped her gently to the seat beside him, her legs sprawled across his lap. He tugged at the laces to her boots, his expression questioning, clearly asking her if she wanted to continue.

Given what they’d just been doing, and where he’d taken her—twice—she was surprised he’d so willingly given her the benefit of calling a halt to things. Most men of her acquaintance would simply assume all was a go at this point, unless told otherwise. And even then would likely do whatever necessary to coerce her into
changing her mind if she said no. Given the fact that she’d already had the pleasure and relief of coming, and still felt she’d only been served the appetizer to what promis
ed to be a full gourmet meal…
she could only imagine the range of needs he was feeling at the moment.

She held his gaze and nodded with a smile
…
and no hesitation.

He tugged her pants and panties the rest of the way down as she shifted her weight to facilitate the action. By the time they were around her ankles, he’d shifted to his own, now straining zipper. Their movements were severely hampered by the restricted space, causing them both to grunt and swear a bit as they tried to disentangle themselves from the last of their clothing. She had her jeans hooked on one heel and he was struggling to tug his pants down and not dump her on the floor at the same time, when a split white beam of light shot like arrows through the fogged windows.

“Shit,” they both said in unison, then caught each other’s gaze in one of those frozen moments in time. They had company. They remained unmoving for another agonizingly long moment, waiting to see if the truck—judging from the height and breadth of the beams—moved on, or stopped. The instant the arcing beams of light swung to a stop, they both burst into a frenzy of action, each of them struggling to put on the clothes they’d just fought to get off. Elbows and knees connected, hair tangled, both of them were panting and swearing.

“Wait, wait,” he told her. “Don’t hurt yourself. I’m closer to being dressed. I’ll put my coat on and get out, see what’s what. You take your time. I’ll make sure no one looks in here until you give me a signal.”

Normally she was the one who jumped to the fore when things went amiss. She liked calling the shots.

Easier to place trust in the outcome of things that way. So it was a surprise to her that rather than argue with him, she felt an almost overwhelming wave of gratitude and affection. Of course, the fact that her panties were tangled around her knees and her jeans were half inside out might have played a small part in that. The sound of a heavy truck door slamming shut only served to underscore her appreciation. “Thank you,” she said, never more sincere. “If necessary, I’ll lower the window a wee bit, or toot the horn or something.”

He was already jamming his arms into his coat, his jeans and sweater already back on. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll come right back.”

“Everybody all right in there?” came a shout. From the tenor, it sounded like a man.

“Slide closer to that door,” he instructed with amazing calm. He put his hand on the rear-door handle closest to him. “Snow’s likely to blow in when I get out. Sorry. I’d climb back up front, but I’ll be lucky if I can walk upright at the moment as it is.”

She couldn’t stop the sudden splutter of a laugh, then caught his respo
nding grin and paused in her re
newed grappling with her clothes long enough to reach out and briefly touch his face. “We can still take care of that, you know.”