Night Driving (13 page)

“And yet you drove in one?”

“I was trying to get you to Miami as fast as I could. I made you a promise and I live up to my promises.”

“Come hell or high water?”

“You got it.”

It hit Boone then, hard as a sucker punch. That she’d been willing to drive through a thunderstorm for him when she was afraid of the damn things. A warm sensation poured through him. Then he did the dumbest thing he’d ever done in his life. He pulled her into his arms.

And she let him.

He tugged her tight into the crook of his arm. “It’s okay. You’re safe here with me.”

Then she completely knocked the pins out from under him by resting her head on his shoulder. When she wrapped her arms around his waist, he was down for the count.

He stiffened—thrilled and elated and scared and nervous. His heart was thumping and his mouth was dry and his chest tightened. He wanted her. Desperately. And the depth of his need scared the hell out of him.

Unable to resist, Boone slowly lowered his head and kissed the top of her head.

Tara tightened her arms around him, tilted her face up.

He took her lips. Gently. Sweetly. She tasted like the most decadent of desserts—impossibly sweet and hopelessly addicting. When her smart little tongue darted out to touch his, he felt as if he’d been given the keys to heaven.

Pulling her closer to him, he deepened the kiss. She made a sexy noise of approval that stroked a groan of pleasure from him. She was soft in all the right places and he was hard as a brick. There was no mistaking the strength of his desire for her.

Her warm sigh of delight sent a rush of emotion charging through him. Emotions he did not remember ever having experienced. Not with Shaina. Not with any woman.

She reached up to cup his cheek with her palm in such a tender gesture his heart skipped a beat. He knew this was dangerous, but he could not seem to stop himself. He wasn’t the type to rush headlong into something, but here he was, rushing faster than a speeding roller coaster.

For most of his life, he’d been a soldier. It had been his job, his identity, his reason for being in the world, but then he’d gotten wounded and ended up with a medical discharge, and his life had changed forever. He’d been adrift. Rudderless. Hopeless. He couldn’t make plans for a future when he no longer knew who or what he was.

In the back of his mind, there had lurked this amorphous “one day.” One day he would meet the right woman. One day he would settle down. One day he would have children. But the truth was, he hadn’t known how to do those things. He’d married Shaina out of lust and loneliness, but he’d honestly had no idea how to be a husband. Yes, she’d cheated on him, but she hadn’t been 100 percent to blame. He’d been too married to the army to be a proper husband.

But when Tara kissed him, he felt a quiet peace settle deep inside him. She made him believe that he could have anything he wanted. Be anything he chose to be. She made him hope again. Her optimism offered him a lifeline.

She splayed her palms and ran them up his back.

Oh yeah, sweetheart. Touch me. Touch me all over.

He was so hard he ached right down to the very root of his manhood. Her hands were so hot, her mouth so encouraging, and her sweet little moans shot him into orbit.

She broke their contact, pressed her mouth to his ear and whispered in a breath that drove him insane, “Take me to bed, Boone. Take me there now.”

12

Friday, July 3, 10:50 p.m.

T
HE
HEAT
ROLLING
off his body seeped into her. She pressed against Boone, desperate to have him inside her and terrified that he would refuse her invitation. She knew this was only for tonight. Just for now, but she was okay with that. Having him for a few hours was better than never having him at all.

She loved the way he made her feel—feminine, cherished, treasured. Who would have thought such a big, rugged man could be so tender?

He pressed his burning lips to her forehead. “Tara, I want you so badly I can’t think straight, but my knee—”

“I’ll be on top,” she interrupted.

“I don’t have any condoms on me.”

“I do.”

“You carry condoms with you?” He sounded both amused and alarmed.

“I might be impulsive, but I’m not stupid.”

“I never said that.”

“Give me just a sec.” She stumbled around in the dark, trying to find her overnight bag and worried the delay would give him too much time to think. She didn’t want him backing out on her. She whacked into the desk chair. “Ouch.”

“Be careful, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart! Boone had just called her
sweetheart!

Don’t read anything into it.

But how could she not? Boone was most definitely not the type to casually toss around terms of endearment. What did it mean?

Doesn’t matter what it means. His life is in Montana, you’re moving home to start over. You know well enough that long-distance relationships never work out. That’s why you moved to Montana in the first place.

Except
that
relationship had not worked out either.

Forget all that. Find your bag, get the condom and get back to that hunky man.

She tripped over her bag, almost went down but managed to get her balance. Her toe throbbed. “Shoot.”

“You okay?” His voice wrapped around her in the darkness.

“Fine, fine.”
I will be perfect as soon as I’ve got you on your back in that bed.

Except she was so nervous—she’d been fantasizing about sleeping with him for months—she fumbled the condom, dropped it and had to feel around on the floor. She was so not the queen of smooth moves.

“You thinking of backing out on me, sweetheart?” There was a low, throaty humor in his voice.

Her head shot up. “No!”

“That sounds definitive.”

“It is. I am. Definitive. I wanna do this.”

“Good to know your heart’s in it.”

Finally, her hand brushed against the foil packet and she closed her fist over it.
Gotcha.
Now she had to find her way back to bed.

“This way,” Boone guided, reading her mind. He had an uncanny knack for anticipating her needs. His skill unsettled her at the same time it pleased her.

Don’t get used to it.

She found him by sense of smell. Every time she caught a whiff of his cologne, it touched something deep inside of her.

“Tara,” he murmured and his hand found her in the darkness.

She was worried that he’d lost his desire, but that fear was laid to rest the minute he pulled her against his chest. His strong arms encircled her, made her feel safe and protected as if nothing could touch her as long as she was in his embrace.

He kissed her as his hand tugged at her T-shirt, working it up over her head. Every nerve in her body came alive. Tara shivered as his mouth moved slowly from her lips to her throat. Her top disappeared and his fingers went to the tie of her yoga pants.

“Let me help,” she said, shucking off her pants and tossing them over her shoulders.

Boone laughed at her eagerness, a buoyant sound that warmed her heart.

Tara pushed her hands up his bare chest, her fingers getting caught in the tuft of springy masculine hair running across his pecs. She hissed in appreciation. “Sex-
y.
”

“Yes, you are,” he murmured and cupped her breasts in his hands.

She giggled and wriggled against him, pulling a groan from his throat. She wished she could see him. They were breathing rapidly, inhaling and exhaling in the same hurried rhythm. The darkness sensitized every touch, taste, sound and smell. Who needed to see when every other sense was heightened so acutely?

His calloused palms skimmed over her breasts. His taste made her think of popcorn, salty and delicious. The sounds he made had her picturing a powerful male. And his scent—so masculine and musky—filled her nose and stirred the need in her.

He pulled her up tight against his chest, pressing her to his hard angles that promised so much. She tilted her head and planted a kiss on the underside of his chin.

Awareness sparked off them, brilliant as the lightning flashing in erotic intervals, giving just a quick glimpse of bare flesh. She gripped the hard muscles of his biceps, dug her fingernails into his skin.

Desire burned her veins, yanked her high on an upsurge of sexual need, flung her obliviously toward a sweet, dark destiny. Her womb clenched, eager for him.

His erection stabbed against her pelvis, the hard ridge of him raising excited goose bumps on her arms.

Tara moaned softly and ground her hips against his.

He pulled her head down to nibble her earlobe, and growled into her ear. A jolt of sexual longing seized her. He pushed his hips against her, his erection offering sensual promises of what was to come.

She wanted this.

Wanted him.

Not just wanted, but needed. She needed him.

His hand slipped between their bodies pressed so closely together, and he gently pushed his thick middle finger inside of her, stroking her ache.

She nipped his shoulder and then sank her teeth lightly into his flesh.

Groaning, he touched her in places that ignited a thousand tiny fires up and down her skin and pushed his finger in deeper, stoking her fever.

She was so swept away she could barely open the condom, and when she moved to roll it on his throbbing erection, her hands were shaking so hard he had to take the condom from her and put it on himself.

Once he was sheathed, his mouth caught hers again in a possessive kiss that made her quiver from the inside out. They were lost in the headiness of the moment.

Her tingling fingers skated down the masculine angles and hard-ridged muscles of his torso.

He had a hand on her bottom and drew her up tight against his hardness, and she just became one with the dark mystery of the storm. Boone put his hands around her waist. “So tiny,” he breathed as he leveled her up onto him.

She was hot and ready and slipped over him with amazing ease. Slowly she slid down, and when she’d taken him all the way, Boone let out a rough sigh. Her feminine muscles contracted around him.

“Hold off a bit on that,” he said in a strangled voice totally lacking in control. “If you don’t want this to be over in sixty seconds.”

She tried to comply, but he felt so good, so big and thick and wonderful that she couldn’t resist giving him another squeeze.

“You’re playing with fire.” His voice was tight, edgy.

“I’ll be good,” she agreed.

“You’re incredible,” he said. “I’m not sure you’re aware of just how incredible you are.”

“Not as incredible as you are,” she replied saucily and squeezed him again to remind him she could make or break him.

He groaned. “Wench.”

Slowly, she began to move over him, marveling at how well they fit. It was as if she’d been created for him and he for her. Like two pieces of a puzzle, snug together. Two joined pieces made whole.

He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing each knuckle before taking her thumb between his lips and slowly sucking on it. It was wildly sensual and caused her thighs to tighten around his waist.

She rocked over him, taking every manly inch.

“You’re driving me mad, woman.”

“Ha! You’ve picked up on my evil plan.”

“Two can play that game.” He raised his head while at the same time tugging her down until his mouth captured one of her taut nipples.

The sensation that shot through her body was wickedly otherworldly. As he suckled her, he arched his hips upward.

Craving spurred her on. She rocked hard, undone by the tingling current running from her nipples to her womb as he continued to lick and tease her breast. Clearly, he was trying to drive her insane with passion. She could feel the storm coming, gathering in her primal core, rumbling up from deep within her.

His hot mouth destroyed any last shred of sanity she possessed. Tara wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. He worked her over, showed no mercy. It was a beautiful, mind-blowing bliss.

She quickened the pace until they were both grunting and writhing, both barely hanging on.

He tugged her down to him and kissed her, hard and demanding. She tasted his desperate need, shocked by how much he wanted her. Stunned by how much she wanted him.

“Tara,” he called her name. “Tara,” he called again.

His body stiffened. She egged him on with hot little gasps and soft, hungry moans. Her contractions held him tight, pulling her down deeper onto him, claiming him as her own.

Tension reached a fever pitch.

She gripped him with her thighs. He cupped her buttocks in his hands, moved her up and down on him.

Then abruptly, it happened. They exploded together. Tara felt the lightning. Tasted the thunder. Flew into the eye of the storm. And in the bliss of that magnificent burst, Tara realized she’d done the unthinkable.

She’d fallen in love.

* * *

B
OONE
LAY
IN
THE
darkness, the back of his head propped in the palms of his hands, listening to the storm—both internal and external—roll away. His knee was throbbing, but it was worth a little pain to feel what he’d just experienced.

Also worth the pain was the woman sleeping with her head on his chest.

She’s not yours to keep.

Too bad, because he couldn’t remember the last time a woman fascinated him the way Tara did. She delighted him. Made him laugh. And these days, that was no small task. She brought him out of the dark place where he’d been living and into the light. She was the most open, spontaneous person he’d ever met.

He thought he heard a noise in the parking lot. Banging noises. The alert, protector part of him had an urge to go check and see what was going on, but he didn’t want to disturb Tara. Besides, hadn’t she accused him of thinking it was his responsibility to police the world? It was probably nothing more than something knocked loose in the storm hitting the side of the motel. He imagined Tara teasing him for always suspecting the worst and quelled his impulse to investigate. The things he would do to please her. He’d walk over hot coals barefoot if she asked him to, with a smile on his face, singing “Yankee Doodle Dandy.”

Lightly, so as not to wake her, he turned his head and softly kissed her forehead. How had he ended up here, with his heart all tangled up in her?

Ah, hell. He’d done what he’d resisted for months. He’d fallen for her. Wasn’t that a kick in the teeth?

His mind whirled as he struggled to think of a way to make this thing between them work, but each thought ended up in the same place. He wasn’t ready to be in love. He was a mess, both physically and emotionally. Healing, yes, but still in no position to start a romance.

Too late. You’re in bed with her after the most terrific sex of your life.

Panic took hold of him then and he had a powerful urge to slip from the bed and run away into the night. Two things stopped him. One, he couldn’t run anywhere with his damn leg. And two, he wasn’t the kind of guy who ran away from trouble.

A hopeful part of him that he’d thought had disappeared ages ago started trying to figure out how a long-distance relationship might work. Or better yet, how he could convince her to take that U-Haul right back to Montana after this was over.

Mentally, he crushed the hope. Shut it down. He’d learned the hard way how dangerous hope could be.

“Boone?” Tara whispered. “Are you awake?”

“Yes.”

“The storm’s passed.”

Not the storm in my heart.
Great. Now he was thinking like a sap.

Fingertips walked up the middle of his chest. “Mmm,” Tara said. “Would you be interested in doing that again?”

Instantly, he was aroused. “Maybe that’s not such a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Let’s not make this any more complicated than it is.”

“What’s complicated about it?” she murmured. “I want you...” She reached down and touched his erection. “You want me. Pretty simple equation in my book.”

Boone closed his eyes, pressed his lips together. “So just to be clear, this is simply about casual sex?”

“Absolutely,” she said so quickly that any lingering hope he was entertaining vanished.

He should have known better. He was dumb for even thinking that what they’d done could mean more to her. She was footloose, a spontaneous, free spirit. It was one of the things he loved most about her. He could no more tie her down than he could cage the wind.

She moved to kiss him and he made the fatal mistake of letting her. He was helpless against those lips. She tasted so damned good.

She was pressing her hot little mouth into the center of his chest and slowly edging downward. All the blood drained from his head, shot straight to his groin. “Please,” she begged between each kiss.

It killed him that he couldn’t flip her over onto her back, sink his body into hers and stare into her eyes while he claimed her fully and completely. When her mouth made contact with the hardest part of him, he lost all ability to think.

A groan escaped his lips.

The next thing he knew, she was straddling him backward, her knees on either side of him. Her fanny in the air, her head down between his thighs, her tongue—oh, damn, that glorious tongue—licking him hotly.

He rose up and braced himself on his elbows to press his lips to one saucy cheek. Her skin was so soft there, and she smelled like sweet sin. While her mouth swirled around and over his erection, Boone took matters into his own hands.