Montana Hero (18 page)

What did I pick?

She flattened the crumpled envelope to read: cranberry spice.

Oh.

When she looked up, she found Flynn watching her, a hint of a smile on his lips—as if he knew exactly what she’d done.

He held up his little package. “Mint. Helps settle my stomach after a big meal so I can sleep better.”

“Do you have trouble sleeping?”

His gaze dropped. “I was having nightmares. Post-traumatic stress, probably. The guys wanted me to see a shrink, but then my brother contacted me about this job, and I decided to see if a change of venue would help.”

“Did it?”

“Yes. And no. I’m still not sleeping as soundly as I used to, but no more nightmares.”

They sat in silence a few minutes, just the tick-tock of a clock above the stove keeping track of their wasted time. “I’ve never talked to anyone about my possible connection to the Zabrinski family. I went back and forth in my mind about whether or not I should ever bring it up.” She swallowed hard. “What if I was wrong? What if my mother slept with every guy in town and this is just a big misunderstanding? It could ruin a person’s life.”

He took a sip of tea before answering. “You don’t owe me any explanation, Kat. Especially not if you’re leaving Marietta.”

She rubbed her knuckles across her forehead. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Looks to me like you’re resigning.”

“Yes. I’m quitting SAR. You deserve someone better. You have a strong moral compass, Flynn. I thought I did, too, but, lately…” She stared into the pink murkiness of her tea. “I should have done something about Ken’s blatant sexism.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question lately. Maybe I got in the habit of advocating for others, like Mom, Brady, and Molly, and somehow lost track of myself.”

A line from an old movie she and Brady watched a couple of nights ago came back to her. “Not once did I ask what’s in it for me,” she quipped with a lightness she didn’t feel.

Flynn’s sudden grin made her breath catch. She set the mug on the table hard, hoping he didn’t see her hand shake.

“Field of Dreams. I’ve probably seen it a hundred times.”

He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “Feeling disconnected from your body or your emotions is one of the symptoms of Vicarious Trauma, Katherine. You need to make time for you. Find a few of those missing pieces.” His smile changed. “I say that as your friend, not your boss.”

“I need to kiss you,” she said.

He blinked. “Really? Now?”

“Yes. Would that be okay?”

He tried not to smile; she could tell by the way his lips twitched. Finally, he gave in and grinned. “Oh, all right. Since you’re no longer my employee.”

As excuses go, it worked. She’d used it, too.

She got up and walked to his side of the table. She waited for him to scoot back his chair, leaving ample room for her to sit on his lap. His rock hard thighs supported her weight without question. She indulged in something she’d wanted to do from that first moment they’d stood with a box of doughnuts between them; she ran her hands across his broad, muscular shoulders.

“How much does that pack you’re always carrying around weigh?”

“Eighty pounds, give or take.”

“Are you always On Call?”

“Not officially, but I feel an obligation to my training. If I had the chance to help someone and didn’t go because I wasn’t prepared, I’d feel pretty awful.”

She knew that about him without being told. He took his responsibilities seriously. As did she. It might be the thing she loved best…
No. Don’t go there. This isn’t about love or any long-term emotion. It’s about grabbing a tiny bit of goodness for myself before all hell breaks loose.

She kept her eyes open so she could memorize his face as she lowered her head. His eyelashes were thick, like Brady’s, but not as curly. His brows were trim and darker than his lashes. She liked the little bits some might consider flaws. She saw them as his unique perfection.

She bumped her nose lightly against his, drawing a smile that warmed the hue of his eyes, which looked more gray when she was sitting across the table from him, but now looked blue. She wetted her lips with the tip of her tongue before tilting her head to touch her lips to his.

After two weeks of mental foreplay, she’d fully expected a zing, but the charge that swept through her entire body took her breath away. Better than good. When she started to pull back, Flynn deepened the kiss.

“Not enough. Not nearly enough,” he murmured with a low growl that released the surge of yearning Kat had kept carefully banked.

His tongue teased her lips until she opened them for him with a tiny moan that covered her cry for more. His taste held a smoky flavor of beer and garlic. And the hint of mint from his tea. She explored without hesitation…until he pulled back.

“Are we doing this?”

Of course, he would ask. Flynn wasn’t the type to assume anything.

“Yes. Please. Just one night. That’s all I’m asking for.”

He lowered his forehead to touch hers.

“I can’t promise that, but I’m willing to try.”

Then he stood, still holding her in his arms, as if she were as light as his pack, and he carried her to his room. What girl doesn’t dream of this from her Cinderella days, Kat thought, resting her head against his shoulder?

She’d take the dream for as long as it lasted.

*

Flynn didn’t know
what he’d done to deserve a gift as wonderful as Kat Robinson, first waiting on his doorstep, then on his lap, kissing him. But he’d take it. No questions asked.

Well, one question.

“Can you stay the whole night?” he asked when she reached down to open the door to his room.

She shook her head. “No. I’m picking Brady up at seven-thirty to have breakfast together before school.”

“I hit the gym at six. Would that work?”

She didn’t answer right away. “Let’s see if…”

Her blush grabbed some part of him he’d forgotten existed and made him realize exactly how he felt about her. Damn. Tucker called it. Flynn was in love.

This fast?
Not possible.

But he knew that wasn’t true. It happened, he thought. How? He didn’t have a clue.

Fortunately, he had enough sense to keep his epiphany to himself. She wanted a one-night stand. Maybe not even a whole night. Love was not part of her agenda.

And while that reality check bruised a bit, the horny dog part of his self-esteem was completely okay with ignoring that fact in favor of immediate gratification. Hot sex now, hurt feelings later.
Yep. That worked.

He lowered her feet to the floor. When his hand was free, he used it to press her pelvis flush with his. No missing the fact he was turned on.

She smiled and started unbuttoning his shirt. “I haven’t done this in a long, long time,” she said, perhaps to explain why her fingers trembled clumsily in the task.

He stilled her hands. “Me, either,” he said soberly, waiting until she looked him straight in the eyes. “But I’m glad I waited because that will make this time worth it.”

She gulped. “Or not. We could be really rusty.”

He kissed her again. “I think it will come back to us.”

“Like riding a bike?”

He wiggled his brows lecherously. “Something like that.” Then he walked backwards, leading her with him, until he felt the mattress. He sat, knees wide so she could stand between his legs. He hadn’t really looked at what she was wearing until now. Skinny jeans and tennies. A faded gray sweatshirt with Remember the Alamo stitched in red, white and blue thread above her left breast.

No one could accuse her of dressing for seduction, and yet he couldn’t remember any outfit he found more alluring. He slipped his hands under the stretch-out hem of the sweatshirt to rest on her waist. When his fingers explored upward along her ribs, he sucked in a gasp of surprise when he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. His body reacted like any red-blooded man with a surplus of male hormones would. If he didn’t get his zipper down fast, he was going to be hurting.

Kat seemed to sense his need because she reached for his belt buckle and quickly disposed of his belt. When she leaned over to work on the waistband button and zipper, the underside of her breasts brushed the backs of his fingers.

He groaned.

“I’m hurrying. Stupid fingers. I swear I have unzipped a man’s pants before.”

He didn’t say anything because keeping his hard-on under control took his complete concentration. And, Lord, her small, delicate hands brushing against him was just about enough to unman him.

“Tricky zipper when it’s holding back a tidal wave of horny,” he said, trying to keep things light. “Shall I?”

“No.” She whipped off the sweatshirt, tossing it carelessly in the direction of the chair in the corner of the room. “You keep busy with these. I’m going to do this.”

Since his jaw was hanging open so far saliva pooled in his mouth like a dog, Flynn had no choice but to swallow hard and do as ordered. His fingers shook as nervous as a kid on his first date. But perfection was something you just didn’t see every day. And Kat’s breasts were luscious, perky, full orbs adorned with perfect pink nipples that invited him to taste them.

“Beautiful,” he said in a worshipful tone, palming first one breast, then the other. His fingertips rolled both nipples, which seemed to turn a darker shade of pink as he manipulated them. He leaned in to flick his tongue back and forth over one while his opposite hand squeezed the other. His lips closed over the rigid nipple and he sucked, using his teeth just a bit.

“Ah, that feels so good. I can’t wait. Got it,” she cried, pulling forcibly with both hands.

Flynn felt a pinch, but as engaged as he was, a little discomfort seemed a small price to pay.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, helping him out of the pants. He lifted his ass as she yanked down. Since he’d already kicked off his boots, she could pull them free without any impediment.

“A pinch. That’s all.”

She wiggled out of her jeans before stepping toward him, half-naked in skimpy purple bikini panties that were the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

“This might call for first aid.”

She dropped to her knees and gently pulled the waistband of his outrageously tented undershorts over his erection. “Looks okay to me,” she said, giving him a teasing glance. “How ’bout I kiss your boo-boo to make it feel better?”

Bracing his hands on the mattress, he closed his eyes to fully experience the feel of her lips. Sweet and soft. A moment later her tongue flicked back and forth, teasing him until he groaned. When the warm hollow goodness of her mouth enveloped him, Flynn concentrated on not letting his pleasure get away from him.

“So good. Oh, man, Katherine.” Her name came out in three, long, tortured syllables that made her stop what she was doing and look at him.

“I like the way you call my name when you’re on the brink of coming. It makes me feel powerful.”

He reached for her. “You’re the all-powerful Oz. Didn’t you know? The woman behind the curtain.”

He knew that didn’t make any sense but she came to him with a grin on her beautiful lips. She melted into his arms like she was born to be there. They wriggled backwards to take advantage of the whole bed not just the lower half of it.

“Are you chilly?”

“Not a bit, but if I were, I bet you could warm me up fast.”

They were lying on their sides, touching in all the right places, his hand on her butt cheek, hers on his. He couldn’t imagine how they were so comfortable with each other in such a short time. He didn’t want to jinx the magic, but he had to ask. “Did you by any chance bring protection?”

Her eyes went wide. “You don’t carry rubbers in that life-saving pack of yours?”

He shook his head. “I’ve never needed one on a rescue.”

She kissed his nose. “Good thing one of us is prepared. I stopped at the drugstore on my way here.” She rolled off the bed to find her jeans and pulled a small foil packet out of the pocket.

“Just one?” he asked, disappointed.

She threw back her head and laughed. “Just one box. The rest are in my purse, hot shot. Let see what you can do with this one, then we’ll talk.”

He shifted to one elbow and made a come here motion with his index finger. “That sounds like a challenge, and I should warn you. I’ve never backed away from a challenge. This could take all night.”

She launched herself onto the bed, tackling him. “Then, let’s get started.”

‡