Rising Heat (65 page)

All I could do was hang on and ride the waves of ecstasy. It seemed as if in a matter of seconds, I was ready. Granted, it had been awhile since I’d had sex, but I had never, ever, not once in my life, felt this titillated, this close to climax in such a short time. As if he could feel my internal combustion, his lips left my nipple and his tongue traced a fiery trail of wetness up along my neck, traced my jawline, and then once again found my lips. As he kissed the living daylights out of me, suckling gently on my tongue, I felt the first surge of my orgasm.

I had never screamed before, but with his mouth covering mine, the sound I made didn’t exactly come out as a scream, but more like an elongated groan. My hips thrust upward with the contractions of my orgasm. His finger was slick with my wetness. I gasped for breath as the sensations surged through, around, and over me. Powerful. Wonderful. Amazing.

Just as I was beginning to wonder if I would run out of adjectives, he shifted his position. With my pussy still throbbing with the aftermath of my orgasm, he pressed me down to sit on the couch. Good thing too because my legs felt like spaghetti. The moment I sat down, I reached for the waistband of his pants. He tried to discourage me, but I would have none of it. I was still in a heightened state of passion and believe you me, I could give as good as I got.

In a matter of seconds, I had unbuttoned his fly and then pulled down his zipper. In the next instant, he shifted, reached down, and pulled his cock and balls from his jeans.

It was right in my face. Demanding attention. His hands gently cradled my head, not urging me closer, just there. Of my own accord, I reached my right hand upward and wrapped it around the velvety smooth yet incredibly hard organ. Once more, he did try to discourage me, tried to step back, but I shook my head and made a noise in my throat.

“No, I want to,” I whispered.

Before he could say anything or move again, I wrapped my lips around his head. He stiffened. I heard the low noise of pleasure that he made in his throat. I began to slowly pump his cock as my lips gave service to its smooth tip. My left hand reached for his balls and cupped them gently. His balls, like his cock, were full, hard, and incredibly masculine.

I squeezed and massaged his balls while I slowly began to trace the contours of the veins on the surface of his penis with my tongue. Down to the base of his shaft and then back again. At the top, I swirled my tongue around his head, then suckled on it before repeating the process. Several times.

I began to pump his cock harder and faster. I hoped I wasn’t squeezing too hard, but he wasn’t protesting, so I was sure I was doing all right. I removed my hand from his balls and instead placed my left hand at the base of his cock, massaging the underside of it with my thumb. Again he made a noise in his throat.

I glanced up, my lips encircling the tip, and I saw him standing with his head thrown back. He gave one, two slight pumps of his hips, and then, grasping each side of my head, gently pulled his cock from my mouth. I felt his orgasm surging upward from the base of his cock, up through the shaft, and then out the head. In a matter of seconds, hot liquid gushed into my hand. Several contracted pumps later, he stood still, his chest rising and falling with accelerated breathing.

Neither one of us said a word. What could we say? The attraction was undeniable, and I wondered if this… whatever you wanted to call it, would somehow calm the sexual attention and attraction between us.

Seconds later, he took a step back, tucked his cock back into his pants, and then slowly zipped up the zipper. Without a word, I watched, unmoving on the couch as he walked quickly into the kitchen and returned seconds later grasping a napkin in his hand. He reached for my hand and wiped his semen from it, then balled up the napkin and returned to the kitchen. I heard the lid of the trash can slam shut.

He returned to the living room and stood before me. Grasped my shoulders and lifted me up from the couch. Gently, he pulled my bra down over my still aching and throbbing breasts, and then my T-shirt.

Despite the powerful release I’d just experienced, the movement and his gesture made me hot for him all over again. Oh God. Still no words passed between us, but I didn’t get the impression that he was uncomfortable or that he was feeling regret. Of course, I couldn’t know that for sure. I barely knew the guy. And that left me feeling disconcerted again. Never, not once in my life, had I ever done anything like this. I was a grown woman. I wasn’t a virgin. I certainly wasn’t in the habit of doing
this.

Finally, he spoke. “You all right?”

I nodded, cleared my throat, and then replied. “Yes, are you?”

He nodded. “I didn’t mean to take advantage—”

“I’m glad you did,” I admitted with a small smile. “And I’m not sure who was taking advantage of whom. Let’s just say that neither one of us took advantage of the other.”

He nodded and then stepped toward the living room window. “I’m going to go out there and look around. I’ve got some gear in my Jeep. I’ll find a place to bed down in the woods.”

I watched him walk to the front door, while my body still thrummed with the aftermath of my orgasm and the power of the attraction that still pulled at me.

He turned off the porch light just before he opened the front door. Then he paused, but only long enough to say three words before the door closed behind him.

“Lock the door.”

MY HEART’S DESIRE

H
ELEN
G
REY

PART 2

BOOK DESCRIPTION

This is Part 2 of “My Heart’s Desire” – a five part Bad Boy Romantic Suspense Series by Helen Grey.

Isolated and frightened, Tracy struggles to keep her world from falling apart. She has work to do. A life to live. Then another note shows up at her door.

The stalker’s watching. Really watching this time. And he doesn’t like what he sees. He escalates. His punishment is personal and intimate.

Taking Hawk’s advice, she runs.

And quickly learns there is nowhere to hide.

This book is intended for a mature audience, 18+ only.

I
did as he asked.

I locked the door and then the deadbolt. Seconds later, I heard his Jeep start up and my heart skipped a beat. Didn’t he say he was going to stay in the woods tonight? Keep an eye on the house and on me?

But he was leaving.

I couldn’t believe it.

As panic set in, realization did as well and my shoulders slumped with hope and relief. He was just moving it. Maybe he would park it down the road a bit and then walk back so that if anyone was watching the house tonight, they wouldn’t see his Jeep sitting there in the front yard.

Duh.

I stood behind the door, not seeing, but hearing his vehicle as it slowly crunched down the gravel driveway toward the highway. My body still tingled from his touch. I lifted my hand and touched my fingers to my lips, remembering the feel of his against mine.

I know it sounds cliché, but I’d never experienced anything quite like that. I had never believed in instant attraction, but then again, I guess unless you’ve experienced it, it feels kind of fairy tale-ish. So what exactly did I feel when I was with Hawk?

Lust?

No, not just that. Yes, I did feel lust, which surprised me to no end, but there was something else… I couldn’t quite figure out what that something was. The experience had been startling. After all, I was fairly experienced with sex. My former boyfriend and I had been together for a while so naturally we had indulged. But Jeremy never left me feeling like I felt right now. Never. Not once. Not even close.

I kept saying that a lot, didn’t I? I didn’t mean to, but the plain truth was this… I was now dealing with something totally out of my realm of experience. Everything was happening so quickly.

A secret admirer. A sexy P.I. And on top of that, suddenly having to learn how to better defend myself. What next?

I wandered into the kitchen, idly glancing out the windows. I kept the light off. No problem, I knew my way around. I peeked outside the kitchen window, but didn’t see any shadows, any movement. I then moved to the living room to do the same. The gun that Hawk had brought with him was gone. I was a little relieved by that. Then again, I felt sure it wouldn’t be the last I’d hear about it.

Standing to the side of one of the living room windows, I glanced outside, much as I had done from the kitchen. Again, I saw nothing. No shadows. I heard nothing either. In fact, I couldn’t even be sure that Hawk was still on my property. I wouldn’t know if he just decided to drive back into town or had already staked out a spot to watch the house.

I shook my head. I needed to trust him. I needed to believe that if he said he was committed to doing something, he would do it. But I didn’t know him. Well, I was learning a little more about him in the carnal way, wasn’t I? But making out like a high-schooler with a guy was a long way from knowing much about him.

I had learned something though. I had the feeling he could and would be a generous lover. He had pushed all the right buttons. His kisses had been demanding yet gentle at the same time. He had lit my fire, that was for sure.

Stop it.

I needed to get my mind off his body and his charisma, and focus—but I couldn’t. I had so many questions. I wondered how he’d met Detective Cutter. I knew next to nothing about his personal life, other than the information he’d shared in his office. He was a bit of a bad boy, and I could now verify that to some degree. Anyone able to provoke such pleasure in a matter of minutes was certainly skilled and must have more than his share of experience pleasing women.

Not ready to even consider going to bed, I wandered into my office, again keeping the lights turned off. My computer screen savers were on, casting undulating waves of color that dimly lit the room. The window curtains were pulled shut. I sat down at my desk in front of my computer screen, mesmerized by the ribbons of color dancing across my screen.

My thoughts were all over the map, but kept drifting back to Hawk. I replayed the events of the evening after I called him and remembered how relieved I was that he came over almost immediately. Did he offer such
personal
service to all of his clients? That thought left me frowning. I didn’t need a player. I needed someone focused on the job. Still, I couldn’t deny my reaction to him. It was obvious that he felt some attraction to me as well, which left me preening my feathers for a moment, but then I sobered.

Thrilling or not, I doubted either of us had exercised good judgment. After all, I had hired him. Technically, I could either consider him my employee, or I was his client. Either way, I knew that being intimate with him in any way would have a great potential to cloud not only my judgment, but maybe even his.

He had come over to insure my safety, to prove to me that he was on the job. When he had taken out that gun, my heart had sunk into the pit of my stomach. Had it really come to that? Did I really need to think about a weapon? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not anti-gun or anything. As a matter of fact, I wholeheartedly support the Second Amendment. I also happen to fully stand behind the First Amendment guaranteeing freedom of speech.

Except when that freedom of speech interfered with someone else’s perception of safety, like whoever was leaving me these notes. Which led me right back to Hawk again. Those notes were the reason I met Hawk.

I sat in the dark in my office, my body still tingling with warmth from his skilled tongue and fingers. He had brought me to my peak in a matter of seconds. What would it be like if he actually used his—?

“Stop it!” I snapped into the darkness.

He was out there in the dark, watching the house. Watching me. Then again, maybe someone else was watching me too. Someone who made the hair on the back of my neck stand up on end. Who, besides Hawk, was out there watching me? Why? What could I possibly have done to attract the attention of an admirer, or so the police believed.

No, not an admirer. A creep.

Those notes weren’t meant to inspire romance, but fear. Someone was out there trying to scare me. He was doing a pretty damn good job of it too. While being with Hawk had distracted me for a little while and lulled me into a sense of security, that feeling was gone.

Sitting alone in my house, I was excruciatingly attuned to every creak in the old wood as the temperature dropped. I heard every pop of the heating ducts, every noise of a twig or branch brushing against the roof or a window. It was so quiet in the house, I heard the wall clock in the living room ticking by the minutes.

I looked at my computer screens and realized that I was falling behind in my work. I couldn’t allow that. My work was my bread and butter. Once in a while, I envied those who worked in regular nine-to-five jobs. You know, get your paycheck every other Thursday, conveniently direct deposited into your bank account. Salary paid. You knew what to expect and exactly when it would arrive. In my line of work, that was impossible to predict.

I had two jobs I needed to finish this week. It wasn’t just about the money. It was about my reputation. It didn’t take much to tank someone’s reputation when you were a freelancer, whether you were a photographer, writer, a website designer, or whatever. As an independent contractor, I needed to stick to my deadlines as much as possible. Oh, a day or two on either side of a deadline was generally okay with my clients. Things came up, on my end and theirs. But I kept a handle on it.

Tomorrow morning, I would have to set the alarm early and try to catch up on the work I hadn’t completed over the last couple of days. I had to stay focused. I had to believe that Hawk would discover who my creepy secret admirer was and put a stop to his notes so that I could once again enjoy my solitude, my new home, and work like I wanted to. No distractions. No interruptions.