No Surrender (6 page)

He was inside her, skin to skin; they were irrevocably linked.

This was what she’d wanted from him, something real. Something that she could remember in the light of day and never doubt that it had happened.

Maybe this was just a moment, but it was their moment. It was something no one could take away from them. No one could change it.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, but she didn’t pull him down closer. Kentucky wanted to watch his face. She wanted to see what she did to him, the passion they wove together.

Each thrust was a deliberate, concise action. There was no wild frenetic energy here. It was all a controlled burn, the blaze between them set with purpose and manipulated to burn hotter with a single intent: their mutual release.

Kentucky was on the edge, but she didn’t want to fall alone. Her orgasm hit her hard and fast, unexpected.

“You’re so wild, Kentucky. Watching you come is like being wrapped in a storm.”

She gasped in his ear, “And you said you didn’t have pretty words.”

He continued to push into her, surrendering to his own culmination.

Sean eased off her body and onto his back next to her in the bed. He pulled her against him, smoothing her hair away from her face.

“This is only going to end badly, Kentucky. We both know it, but neither of us can stop it.”

“Like I said, Sean, let’s just let it be what it is. This feels too good to deny ourselves, and it doesn’t hurt anyone.”
Except me, when it’s done
, she failed to add.

“I admire that in you.”

“What?” She spread her fingers across his chest.

“Your absolute fearlessness to jump into any fire. It’s not that you’re reckless. You’re not at all. You know the consequences—you’re not unmindful. It’s not even that you don’t care. It’s that you want this one thing more than you fear the fallout. I wish I could be that way.”

Kentucky didn’t know what to say. It was almost as if she’d forgotten that he saw her—really saw her.

He always had.

Everyone else outside their circle thought she was just the wild girl who swilled shine from the wrong side of the tracks.

That was a gift beyond gold.

“You are that way. I didn’t jump alone.”

“No, I tripped on and fell into the fire.” His hand stroked down her back. “But it burns so good, baby.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“Do you want me to be?”

“Yes.” She snuggled closer. “If I didn’t, I’d tell you to make me a sandwich on your way out.”

He laughed and kissed her forehead.

They lay in the silent dark together in the cocoon they’d made for themselves for a long time before either of them slept.

7

S
EAN
WOKE
HER
up with a hot cup of coffee under her nose.

“You know the way to my heart,” she mumbled, and accepted the cup gratefully.

“Drink up, Tuck. I have a day planned.”

“The whole day?” She grinned. “What about work?”

“Fuck it.” He flashed her a crooked grin. “Actually, I didn’t think about that. Do you have stuff you need to get done for the shop?”

“I do.” She nodded. “But I’ll accept your day and raise you this evening. You can help me finish up some of the regular maintenance work.”

“What makes you think I know how to do that?”

“Oh, please. You don’t learn to fly Black Hawks and have no idea how to work on them. You can change the oil in the ’12 Jeep Grand Cherokee.”

“Yeah, I suppose I can, at that.”

“Unless you don’t want to?” She watched him over her cup.

“I could use some time in my own head with busy hands, you know? I’m looking forward to it.”

“So what’s your plan? What’s our lovely day?”

His eyes suddenly darkened and his gaze was centered squarely on her breasts. The sheet had fallen down and she was bare to his view.

“It’s going to be a lovely day in bed if you don’t put on some clothes.”

“I could go for that.” She grinned and took another sip of coffee, not bothering to cover herself up.

“Woman,” he teased.

“Fine.” She supposed he was right. She was a little sore, but it was the most delicious feeling. “Where are we going?”

“I guess that all depends if you still have that Harley in storage.”

“You’re not driving my Harley.”

“No, you are. I’ll hop on back.”

She arched a brow. “Really?”

“What, like I have a problem with a woman who can handle her machine? It takes nothing away from me. Your hands will be on the bars and mine, well... I’ll be free to put them where I like.”

She laughed. “You better be careful. You don’t want to distract me too much.”

“Maybe I do. Maybe my plan is to get you on some deserted country road and do bad things to you in the light of day.”

“Then I guess you better pack a blanket. I don’t want burrs or chiggers.” She got up and padded toward the shower.

“I’m one step ahead of you. I even packed a picnic.”

She turned on the water and let the spray fall over her. “So you thought of everything.”

“One does try.”

“One does succeed.” She soaped up and exhaled as the hot water soothed her aching muscles and helped clear her head.

“Screw it,” she heard him mumble.

His hands reached through the shower curtain and took the soap from her. “We’ve got time.”

Soap-slicked fingers moved over her shoulders, down her spine and around her waist.

Her breath caught in her throat. “Sean.”

“No, you don’t like this?” He continued his ministrations, the tone of his voice making it obvious he knew full well what he was doing to her.

“I thought you wanted to take the bike out.”

“Just imagine what we could do on the bike.” His hands moved down the outside of her thighs and back up the inside, only for him to swoop down to her knees again. “How much would it take to distract you enough to make you pull over? Do you think I could fuck you on that bike at seventy miles per hour?”

“I think that it’s a pretty fantasy, but the reality would be awkward and deadly.”

“Fine, then let me drive.”

“You’re driving now.” That familiar burn started between her legs and all she could think about was getting him to touch her there.

“The wind on our faces, while we laugh at death and drink down every moment, suck the marrow dry from this world.”

She shivered with both anticipation and pleasure. That was exactly how she wanted to live her life.

She and Sean were more alike than she’d ever thought. “Indeed, you are a poet.”

“No, I just know what I want.”

Kentucky licked her lips. “Do you? Are you sure about that?”

He stripped off his clothes and climbed into the shower with her, his skin hotter than the water that sluiced over them. She took the soap and lathered it in her hands as he had done and returned the favor, smoothing her hands all over the wide expanse of his chest, his shoulders, his back.

Then she moved her hands down over his hips and his thighs, returning the teasing, taunting caress.

His cock was hard and at attention.

He seemed indefatigable. She wondered if they really could spend the whole day in bed. She rinsed the soap off her hands and reached for him, closed her fingers around the hard velvet length of him.

Kentucky had never imagined he’d be here with her like this. That wasn’t to say she hadn’t fantasized about it, but in the real? These things didn’t happen to her.

She had to remember that they were happening to her, right now. Kentucky had to keep reminding herself to live these moments like any other—living them to make a memory to let her surrender to the moment.

Or to what she knew was inevitable.

The low growl of gratification in the back of his throat anchored her in the moment. She knelt down, the fine spray of water at her back and over her shoulders.

He pushed his hand through her damp hair and she took him into her mouth, relishing not only the feel of him, the sounds of his pleasure, but the power she had over him. Not because she could deny him bliss, but because she could give it to him.

It occurred to her, not for the first time, that he was indeed a beautiful specimen of manhood. She loved his oblique muscles the most—those hard lines often referred to as an Adonis apron, smooth lines of muscle that seemed to point straight toward his cock.

His legs were strong and powerful, thickly muscled, just like everything else on him. In his youth, he’d been a kind of young god, but now he was earthier, harder.

God, so much harder.

Everywhere.

Everything she touched was like living marble. This was a man built for fighting, for killing—for saving. His shoulders were just broad enough to handle the hero’s mantle.

She looked up and met his eyes. Kentucky loved that about the way they joined. It wasn’t some fey, wispy sort of lovemaking. Some pretty, lacy ideal. It was intense, primal...and he wasn’t afraid to look into her eyes.

Kentucky pressed her nails lightly into his glutes, pulled him forward. She sheathed him with her mouth, his flesh silky and hot against her tongue.

“Sweet Christ, Kentucky...”

She continued the campaign, bobbing down his length, tasting him, swirling her tongue over the thick topography of his flesh.

“I’m already close,” he warned.

She replaced her mouth with her hand, stroking him slowly, making it last. “Come for me, Sean. I want to taste you.”

He’d braced himself with one hand on the shower-curtain rod, the other on the safety handle in the shower. His knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip. Every muscle in his body seemed to be flexed as he fought the sensation, fought the tidal wave.

She wondered how far she could push him, how high?

Kentucky slowed her strokes but then brought him to her lips, where she teased the crown of his manhood with her tongue, licking and laving, changing her technique and increasing pressure depending on that delicious growl that kept reverberating from him.

“You’re killing me.”

“That is why they call it the little death.” She took him deep again.

His body spasmed and he arched toward her, hips thrusting, and she felt only satisfaction when he found his completion.

“Shit.” He turned the water off.

She looked up to see that he held the shower curtain, rod and all, in his hand. He’d pulled it down with the strain of his orgasm.

Kentucky grinned. “I’m so the boss of you.”

“I will fix this before I leave.”

She laughed. “I’m kind of proud of it.”

He lifted her up as if she were no bigger than a doll. “But now turnabout is only fair play. I think you’re in for some quid pro quo.”

She squirmed, delighted at the idea. “Well, if you insist.”

“I do insist.” He wrapped a towel around her. “Bed?”

“Definitely.”

Sean carried her into the bedroom and perched her on the edge of the bed. “Spread for me. Show me.”

She spread her legs wide and he knelt between them, pushing her back on the mess of blankets on the bed.

Kentucky leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, fisting the duvet as she waited for the onslaught of sensation.

God, but he was amazing.

He kissed her there first. His lips soft and warm, a gentle press before he slipped his tongue inside her and traced the seam back up to her clit.

“You taste so good.”

“So do you,” she replied, anticipating the next onslaught.

His fingers pushed inside her while his tongue worked at the swollen bud and waves of sensation echoed through her body.

He played her as if she were some sort of delicate instrument and he a master composer. It was nothing short of bliss.

She found her hips bucking, driving her cleft up against his mouth. He’d gripped her hips, pinning her where he wanted her. His breath was a warm caress over the heated and engorged flesh when he spoke. “When I’m done here, when you’re coming and riding the wave, I’m going to kiss you and we’ll taste each other.”

It was naughty and decadent, and it caused her interior walls to constrict around his fingers.

“Like that, do you? Yeah, me, too. I want to know what we taste like together.”

He dipped his head again, suckling and thrusting.

Just as he’d promised, when she was riding his fingers and arching up into her orgasm, he broke away and slammed his mouth into hers.

They tasted sweet together, a comingling of evidence of their ecstasy.

When she lay sated and exhausted, he slapped her ass lightly. “Okay, rest time is over. Let’s go.”

“What? I thought we were spending the day inside.”

“No, that was just a good start to an even better day.”

She licked her lips.

“Stop that,” he said. “It makes me think about your pretty lips on my cock. And we just can’t do that again.” Sean grinned. “I need like fifteen minutes.”

Her interior walls tensed at the idea, but holy hell. She wasn’t used to this much activity. “I think I need more than fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, that might have been optimistic on my part, as well. But the will is there.” He nodded.

“I say we put a moratorium on it at least until tonight.”

“So we definitely need to get out of the house or I’m just going to have to bury my face between those pretty thighs again.”

“And I’d let you, even though I’d be sorry for it later.”

“So where’s the bike?”

“It’s in the bay with my personal vehicles.”

“How many do you have?” He raised a brow.

“Oh, you know how I am with the project cars. I always have at least three or four. Then I sell ’em.”

He got dressed and laced into his combat boots while she searched for something clean to wear. She found a pair of black jeans and an old band T-shirt from high school, then pulled on her own combat boots. Of course, hers hadn’t seen any actual combat. They were Doc Martens. She tied her wet hair up into a low ponytail.

“Except Betty.”

“I might sell Betty.”

“You lie. You’ve put off finishing her just so you don’t have to make that choice.”

“You don’t know everything, Mr. Smarty-Pants.”

“Not everything, Kentucky. But I do know you.”

“As if, bro,” she teased. “So, you still cool to let me drive?”

“It’s your bike.” He grabbed her. “Let’s go to that little coffee shop in Ozawkie for breakfast.”

“I haven’t thought about that place in years. I wonder if they’re still open.”

“I Googled. They have crepes...”

“Done.”