Dead Girl in a Green Dress (13 page)

His close view of the rear ends of the two horse team was interrupted by the beeping of his phone. The driver gave him a dirty look, but Tate answered anyway.

"Finally!"
Byrony’s
voice fairly screeched in his ear. "I’ve been calling and calling and kept getting that annoying ‘number temporarily unavailable’ message. Where the hell are you? I’ve been worried sick."

He couldn’t prevent the grin from spreading across his face. "Hello to you, too, Sunshine. I’m just fine and I’ll be there very soon."

She sputtered out a half-apology. "Sorry, I didn’t expect you to be gone so long. Then your phone wouldn’t connect."

Feeling the eyes of not only the driver but several of the other tourists on him, Tate cleared his throat.
"
Gotta
go.
I’ll tell you all about it later."

"Little lady upset with you?"
The driver asked with a dead-pan expression. Tate shrugged and the guy added. "You might not want to show up empty-handed. I suggest fudge."

Remembering how
Byrony
had been crazy about the fudge the other night, Tate decided the guy’s idea had a lot of merit. Luckily, there was a fudge shop next door to the tour office which was their drop off point. From there, it was only three blocks back to the Harbor Inn.

As he approached his ground floor room, he could see the curtains partially open but no movement from inside. Anxiety clenched his guts at the fleeting thought that
Byrony
might have gone back to her B&B. Quickening his
pace,
he rapped on the door and craned his neck to try and see through the window. "It’s me, Sunshine. Open up."

He heard the chain on the security lock rattle, then the deadbolt clunked and she stepped aside to let him enter. Staring at her bare feet, she mumbled, "Sorry I yelled at you on the phone, but I kept having these visions of you lying bloody and beaten on the side of the road."

She’d been genuinely worried about him, and her obvious embarrassment was so darn appealing that whatever he’d been about to say flew right out of his mind. "I, uh, got stranded and had to hitch a ride with a slow-moving tour wagon." He reached into his inside jacket pocket and laid her tablet on the desk. Then he slipped his hand into the opposite pocket. "I brought you some fudge."

Finally meeting his gaze with a self-conscious smile, she took the bag from him. "Okay, you’re forgiven." Balancing the bag against her chest with the plastic brace,
Byrony
pulled out a piece of gooey candy, and lost all timidity as she devoured it in three quick bites. "
Mmm
, you are so forgiven." She shifted the bag and held it in his direction. "Want a piece?"

"No, no.
All yours."
Tate waved his hand to decline and watched as she eagerly dug into another hunk of chocolate, savoring each bite this time. The look of pleasure on her face caused heat to flood through him and settle right in his groin.

Knock it off, Madison!
But even as he scolded himself,
Byrony
licked a smear of chocolate off the side of her finger, and the sight of her little pink tongue almost sent him over the edge. Stifling a groan, Tate turned away and stared out the window, trying to rein in his rampant lust.

"Tate." Her voice was a breathy whisper behind him.

A second later, her uninjured arm circled around his mid-section, and he felt her cheek resting against his back. What precious little bit of control he’d mustered disintegrated faster than sugar in hot
coffee.
In the space between heartbeats, he whirled and hauled her against his chest.

"
Byrony
."
He breathed against her mouth in the split second before his lips claimed hers.

Blazing heat surged through Tate as he plunged his tongue into her warm, sweet mouth. Just like last time, she tasted of rich chocolate. And just like last time, she responded eagerly, her hot silky tongue gliding between his teeth and dueling with his. But unlike last time,
Byrony
didn’t pull away, and the moan of pleasure from deep in her throat burned away his last nagging thought of this being a bad idea.

Nothing bad could feel this damn good.

As he continued his sensual exploration, one hand pulled her closer while the other dropped down to cup her very fine ass. Through the haze of desire, he felt
Byrony’s
hand curling around his neck, her fingers caressing the hair on his nape. Then a hard piece of plastic whacked the side of his head, and he jerked away reflexively.

"Oh
my gosh
, I’m sorry!"
Byrony
gasped, a deep crimson flooding her cheeks.

"A simple stop would have done it, Sunshine," he quipped, backing away and rubbing the area between his ear and temple.

"Maybe stopping wasn’t what I intended, Cowboy. But this stupid brace is so awkward." Golden eyes sparkling, she closed the gap between the two of them. "Now where were we?"

Tate held his hands up defensively.
"Whoa, Sunshine.
I said your virtue would be safe, but if we keep this up, I’m not so sure it will be."

With a coy smile,
Byrony
placed her uninjured hand on his chest. "I think you better stop worrying about my virtue and worry about your own."

Laughter burst out of him. "Do I look worried?" Carefully, he eased her plastic encased arm behind her back and dropped his hand down to her butt. Meanwhile,
Byrony’s
fingers fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. "Need some help?"

"Doing buttons with only one hand is the pits," she admitted with a sexy pout.

"Then allow me." Tate shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it toward the chair. While he struggled to pull out his shirttails,
Byrony
nibbled his neck and caused another white-hot flood of desire to race though him. He nearly ripped the buttons off his shirt removing it.

Reluctant to take their mouths off each other, the two of them stumbled toward the nearest bed. Tate’s shirt landed on the floor, and he kicked off his shoes. Then he let go of
Byrony
to shuck his T-shirt on the floor too. She sat on the edge of the bed and reached for the button on his jeans. He closed his hand over her fingers.

"You first."
His voice sounded raspy with need, as he grasped the edge of her T-shirt and lifted it over her head. As she worked her arms out of the sleeves, her small, perfect breasts sprang free. Blood roared in Tate’s ears and a groan of pure desire tore from his throat. He savored the satiny feel of her bare skin against his as he sank onto the bed with her.

The plastic brace on
Byrony’s
injured arm bumped awkwardly between them and she flinched with obvious discomfort. The flicker of pain in her eyes cooled his ardor more effectively than a bucket of cold water
.

 
Stop acting like a horny caveman, Madison!
She was already injured, and here he was manhandling her. He drew in a ragged breath and rested his palms on her shoulders – such fragile feeling bones under his oversized hands.
"Slow down, Sunshine.
We don’t need to rush." He eased her back onto the pillows and carefully arranged her braced arm beside her. Her creamy breasts rose and fell with her rapid breathing, causing his erection to throb against his zipper.

"Just don’t change your mind," she panted, reaching for him.

"Not a chance. But I also don’t want to embarrass myself." Tate hooked his thumbs under the elastic waistband of her sweats and eased them down and off her legs. If he’d thought he couldn’t get any harder, the sight of her red lace panties proved him wrong. "Don’t move," he ordered, and she giggled.

"Whatever you say, officer."

Standing a bit unsteadily, he closed the curtains and turned off the bedside lamp. Willing himself to move slowly, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and dug out his ‘always be prepared’ condom.
Slow is seriously overrated!
He shucked his jeans and boxers in one swift movement, and his cock jutted toward the ceiling. Had he ever wanted a woman this much?

He rejoined her on the bed and she welcomed him with a breathy moan while he relieved her of those sexy underpants.
"Red lace on a bean counter?
You’re just full of surprises, Sunshine."

"So are you." Her index finger skated down the center of his chest. "That’s a very nice set of abs you’ve been hiding under those wool shirts."

"Speaking of a nice set…" He cupped her breasts in his hands, rubbing both thumbs across her dusky pink nipples.

Byrony
rewarded him with a breathy moan. Then he replaced one hand with his mouth, sucking and raking his teeth across her pebbled nipple while she gasped sharply and arched off the bed toward him. Taking his time, Tate moved to her other breast, and she dug her nails into his shoulder, groaning his name. Determined to draw out the pleasure, he moved away from her breast, and kissed his way down her stomach. He gave her hip bone a little nip and his fingers played over her hot, moist center.

She writhed and gasped beneath his hands. "Tate, please…"

"Soon," he promised in a thick whisper. "But not quite yet."

He trailed his lips down her inner thigh while his thumb continued the sensual massage and two fingers plunged into her hot center.
 
Small animal sounds escaped her and he felt her inner muscles clenching as she twisted and moaned with uncontrolled desire. Unable to wait any longer, he pulled away just long enough to roll on the condom before he buried himself in her heat.

Pleasure exploded within him as he thrust deep into her, and melded his mouth with hers. Wrapping her legs around his waist,
Byrony
urged him deeper still. Driven by blinding need, Tate thrust into her a second time, then a third and fourth before she exploded in his arms, crying out his name. With a soul-jarring shudder, he joined her.

Chapter 9

A surprisingly short time later, Tate felt the unmistakable stirrings of desire again. If he stayed much longer with
Byrony’s
sexy little rear snuggled against him, he knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself. Not that he intended to control himself, but first he had to make a quick trip to the pharmacy. With a sigh of regret, he rolled over and sat up.

"Tate?" At
Byrony’s
query, he looked over his shoulder. Leaning on her good elbow with her mussed dark hair framing her face, she gave him a seductive smile. "Come back to bed." Her husky invitation sent a bolt of heat straight to his groin.

Trouble with a capital T!

"Not a good idea, Sunshine." He pulled up his boxers and jeans,
then
snagged his shirt off the chair. His T-shirt appeared to be MIA. "I have to get some more protection first."

"Not everything requires protection."

God help him! Images leaped instantly into his mind, causing his fingers to fumble with the buttons on his shirt. "You are a very wicked woman," he scolded. "So wicked that anything I start with you will end up needing protection."

Byrony
giggled and scooted closer, the sheet dipping below one breast. "Not even a shower?"

Tate looked away fast, but not before the glimpse of her pert little nipple sent another blast of heat that hardened him like a rock.
"Especially not a shower."
He moved to the chair to put on his socks and shoes. "While I’m gone, why don’t you call Mrs. Giroux and let her know you won’t be back tonight."

Pulling the sheet back up to her shoulders, she gave him a coy smile.
"Way ahead of you, Cowboy.
I called her before you ever got back. I told her I was checking out and would pick up the rest of my things later."

***

Byrony
was still wrestling with the blow dryer and hair brush when she heard Tate return. Too late, she realized she’d left her yoga pants on the bed. She definitely wanted another round with Tate, but a few minutes ago, her growling stomach reminded her she’d missed lunch. Berating herself for suddenly feeling self-conscious, she walked out clad in a T-shirt and her red panties. Then, seeing his back turned to her, she snatched up her pants and scampered back into the bathroom.

"Hello to you, too."
Tate called as she struggled to put on the pants.

"Sorry." She emerged still tugging her T-shirt down. "Getting dressed with one hand is the pits."

His smoldering gaze made a slow trip down then back up her frame. "So that’s why you’re wearing my T-shirt?"

No, because it smells like you.
But rather than tell him the truth, she said, "I didn’t think you’d mind."

"Looks much better on you than me."
He held out a paper cup. "I brought you a smoothie."

"Thanks, but I was hoping we could get an early dinner." As she took the cup, her hand brushed his and the heated current that coursed up her arm made
Byrony
reconsider her own suggestion.

His dimples flashed and her pulse kicked up a notch. "You know I never turn down a meal. Just give me a few minutes to clean up."

Regretting her choice to have dinner first and Tate second,
Byrony
sat at the desk, sipped her strawberry smoothie, and listened to the shower running. If it wasn’t such a hassle to get undressed, she’d barge in and join him. Luckily, the water stopped after about five minutes, and about three minutes later, Tate stepped out, running a comb through his still damp hair.