Surrender To Sultry (11 page)

“I know it’s not pretty.” Colt rubbed the scar that puckered the skin between his
rib cage. He must’ve mistaken her silence for disgust. Lord have mercy, he couldn’t
have been more wrong.

“Don’t be silly.” Leah cleared her throat and moved in to skim her thumb over the
faded ridge of his largest scar. He was so smooth and warm beneath her palm that she
had to fight the urge to run her hands all over him. She met his gaze and asked, “Internal
bleeding?”

“Uh-huh.” He took her hand and guided it to another scar, low on his belly. “Here
too.”

She pulled free, no longer able to bear the contact. It was too much. “You need some
vitamin E capsules. Snip off one end and then rub the oil over your scars.”

“I thought that was your job.”

Refusing to be baited, she stepped behind him and settled her palm at the base of
his spine, then used the pads of her fingertips to gently probe the stiff muscles
clenching his vertebrae. She was so distracted by the hard planes of Colt’s upper
back that she had to close her eyes to process what her fingers were trying to tell
her.

“You’re out of alignment,” she said against his heated skin. “Big time. Probably to
the point where you’ve aggravated a nerve.”

“Alignment?” he asked skeptically. “You gonna try and sell me on a visit to the chiropractor?
’Cause I don’t believe in that stuff.”

“Well, you should, because you’ll be miserable the rest of your life in this condition.”
She used her thumbs to press outward, testing the firmness in his knotted muscles.
“Not that a visit would do you any good.”

“Right. Because they’re quacks.”

“Wrong. Because your muscles are so tight they’d just pull you back out of alignment
again. You’ve got to loosen up first—apply heat, do some stretching, get a few therapeutic
massages from someone who knows what they’re doing.” Before he had a chance to ask,
she added, “And no, I’m not offering my services.”

“First the oil and now this. You’re not impressing me with your bedside manner.”

She ignored his teasing. “How flexible are you?”

He glanced over his shoulder, scanning her from head to toe. “Not as flexible as I
remember you being.”

“I’m serious. Show me how far you can bend over.”

He released a burst of laughter and stepped away, holding up both hands. “Honey, no
man wants to hear those words.”

Leah clamped her lips together in an effort to stifle a laugh, but a puff of air broke
free in an ungraceful guffaw. After her chest quit shaking, she pointed to the ground.
“I mean it. I need to see how bad it is so I can decide which routine to prescribe.”

Reluctantly, he obeyed, and just as she’d expected, he couldn’t reach more than halfway
past his calves.

“There’s your first problem,” she said. “I’ll show you some stretches before you leave.
That’s priority number one—getting those muscles loosened up. You need to apply heat
too. I don’t suppose you’ve got a hot tub.”

“No, but the next best thing is just ten minutes from here.”

“What’s that?”

“The springs.”

“Oh! That’s perfect.” She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it herself. “Some
people say the minerals promote healing.”

She expected him to balk at that, but he nodded in agreement. “I’m on duty tomorrow,
but I get off at six. Want to meet me there?”

Leah hesitated, holding statue-still. A steamy evening rendezvous with Colt was a
bad idea, but the most deliciously bad idea she’d ever struggled to overcome. She
had to virtually wrestle her own tongue to the ground to tell him no. “But you go
ahead. Hot baths and heating pads will work too.”

He shook out his T-shirt and tugged it over his head, then pushed both arms through
the sleeves. “How ’bout this—I’ll be there every night after supper. If you can meet
me, fine. If not, no worries.” After refastening the ponytail at the base of his neck,
he said, “But I do like seeing you.”

She liked seeing him too, but didn’t say so. Instead, she turned and knelt on the
ground to pull another weed. Colt took the hint and resumed his work on the lawn.
They each worked in silence for a while, and when Colt finished spreading the seed,
he took a knee beside her and grabbed an extra trowel. His large hands plunged the
blade into the ground with ease, uprooting five weeds for every one of hers. Once
he’d worked his way through his side of the flowerbed, he took a break and sank back
on his heels.

“Can I ask you something?” he said.

“Sure.” She blotted her temple with one sleeve.

“It’s been bugging me since that night at the Sack-n-Pay.” He sat in the grass and
stretched out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles. “Why would you go through
all that trouble to pay for a box of cereal but cheat Uncle Sam by not filing taxes
all those years?”

Wow. Colt sure didn’t hesitate to tackle the tough questions, did he? She started
to ask how he knew, but figured the answer was plain enough. The night of the Lewis
homecoming, Bobbi had said that Colt searched for her a long time. He’d probably started
by asking one of his law enforcement buddies to scan the IRS database.

“I didn’t want to be found,” she said, brushing off her hands to take a break. “So
I let Benny pay me under the table, but I tried to make up for it in other ways. I
still gave my twenty percent, just not to the government.”

A shake of his head said he wasn’t surprised. “How’d you do that?”

She drew both knees to her chest. “Anonymous donations to schools, parks, libraries,
animal shelters, scholarship funds…that sort of thing.” Sure, what she’d done was
technically illegal, but the way she saw it, she’d cut out the middleman. Her way
was more efficient.

Colt chuckled and pushed to standing, then extended one hand to help her up. “And
you had the nerve to tell me you’re no angel.”

“I’m still telling you I’m no angel.” She took his hand, and he easily pulled her
to her feet. “Giving away money is easy. That doesn’t make me a good person.”

“Right, but you know what does?” He tapped her forehead with his index finger. “Your
borderline crazy drive to do the right thing. Trust me, honey, you’re one of the good
ones.”

“You don’t know me, Colt.” How many times would she have to say it before he believed
her?

Her insides felt heavy again, like in the shed. Images of Noah’s face—so much like
his father’s—filled her mind, and she couldn’t stand Colt telling her what a good
person she was when she’d given his son to strangers.

Maybe
it’s time to tell him
, she thought. He wasn’t the same wild-as-weeds boy who’d seduced her all those years
ago. He was the town sheriff now, stable and responsible.
Which
is
why
he
can’t find out
, a secret side of her warned. He might try to take Noah from the Ackermans—the only
parents he’d ever known. Colt had legal connections. What if he contested the adoption?
Would he stand a chance in court? If so, it could devastate Noah. Did she really want
to risk it?

“Hey, did you hear me?” Colt nudged her back to reality.

“Sorry, I zoned out.”

“I’m gonna grab some coffee and a couple of doughnuts. You want anything?”

“No,” she said. “I had grapefruit and egg whites for breakfast.”

Colt rolled his eyes. “Of course you did.” He dug his keys from his pocket and strode
toward his Harley. “Be right back.”

As he drove toward town, she watched the jet-black ponytail whipping his shoulder
blades, the masculine set of his body as he mastered the powerful machinery between
his legs and steered it out of sight. He was stunning, and she wanted him—she couldn’t
deny it. But they didn’t stand a chance after what she’d done.

For the first time in her adult life, Leah wished she were seventeen again. If she
could go back, she’d do so many things differently.

“Honey, I’m Home.”

Leah was washing her hands at the kitchen sink when Colt returned from the store and
strode through the back entrance without knocking. He set a white paper bag on the
counter, followed by a Big Gulp, then removed his sunglasses and tucked them in his
front pocket. After she’d rinsed the suds from her fingers, he used one hip to bump
her aside so he could lather up too. The gesture was so natural, like he’d breezed
through her door before and would do it again a thousand times in the future. Like
he belonged here. Truth be told, it kind of felt right, and that scared her.

She dried off with a dish towel and pointed to his Big Gulp. “That’s quite a caffeine
addiction you’ve got there. Did you drain the whole pot?”

He turned off the water and grabbed the towel from her hand. “The Harley’s not too
practical for making coffee runs. I use an oversized cup and fill it half way so it
doesn’t spill.”

“I didn’t think about it until you left,” she said, “but I could’ve brewed a pot here.”

“It’s okay.” He lightly flicked the towel at her backside before slinging it over
the oven handle to dry. “I wanted to surprise you anyway.”

Leah didn’t like surprises—she had terrible luck with them. “What’d you do?”

“Simmer down, hon.” He tore open the bag and pulled out a bundle of waxed paper, then
unfolded the ends to reveal two slightly smooshed Richman’s éclairs. “Turns out the
Harley’s not too good for doughnut runs either. But they’re fresh out of the oven—the
newest batch in the bakery.”

Oh, Lord. She believed him. Even with half the icing smeared onto the waxed paper
and cream filling oozing out both ends, the golden pastries looked light enough to
melt on her tongue. She pulled in a breath of sweetness and her mouth watered in response.
Why did Colt have to tempt her like this?

“That was nice of you,” she said, still gazing at the sinful offering. “But I already
ate.”

“I’m sure you can make room for more.” Carefully, he lifted an éclair with both hands
and held the fragile bits together. He sank his teeth into one end, closing his eyes
in rapture while he spoke with one cheek full. “Mmm. That’s pure perfection, right
there.”

Leah swallowed reflexively. Maybe one bite wouldn’t hurt.

It was like he’d read her mind. “Wanna share this one?”

“I shouldn’t…”

“Aw, c’mon, hon.” He lifted the other end toward her mouth. “Live a little.”

She leaned in a fraction, but quickly changed her mind. On second thought, she couldn’t
do this. Leah knew herself. One bite wouldn’t be enough—it’d lead to another and another
until she’d scarfed down her whole pastry. His too. Then she’d wind up driving to
Richman’s every day like an addict jonesing for a fix. Moderation didn’t work for
her any more than it’d worked for her daddy. It had to be all or nothing.

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

Colt scowled at her. “Give me one good reason why.”

His scrutiny rubbed her the wrong way, making her feel like a child. She backed up
until her rear end met the countertop. “I don’t have to give you anything.”

“What’s your problem?” He closed the distance between them, trapping her between his
body and the counter. “You love these.”

“You’re the one with the problem.” Why did he care so much whether or not she ate
a stupid doughnut? It wasn’t any of his business. “Just back off.”

“God damn, you’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.” He brought the éclair to
her lips and demanded, “Just take a friggin’ bite already.”

He was pissing her off now, pardon her language. Who did he think he was—bursting
into her kitchen and ordering her around? “I said no!” She drew back and shoved his
outstretched arm, sending the pastry flying right into her face, where it stuck to
her cheek for a split second before tumbling down her arm and to the floor.

Leah gasped in horror. A glance at her brand-new white shirt revealed a chocolate
smudge staining the sleeve. When she touched her face and pulled back, a thick layer
of icing coated the pads of her fingertips. She fired a glare at Colt and smacked
his chest with her clean hand. “You just couldn’t listen, could you?”

Colt glanced at the fallen pastry, then back at her. “I’m sorry.” But his laughing
eyes made him a liar.

“It’s not funny!” But a tiny giggle snuck up from her chest and made her a liar too.
“Look at what you did.” She waggled the evidence at him, then held out her arm. “And
I’ll never get this stain out.”

“I’ll buy you another shirt.” He took her hand to inspect the mess.

“Never mind. It wasn’t expensive.” She tried pulling free, but he held tight.

Then, in an abrupt move that changed everything, Colt licked her middle finger and
took it into his mouth, shocking her with a jolt of pleasure that made her gasp. At
her reaction, he drew her finger in deeper with a tug of hot, wet suction that sent
chills skittering over every inch of her body. He slid his lips to the base of her
fingernail and sucked his way back down again, locking his wicked gaze with hers in
a silent dare to tell him to stop.

That was the moment she should have yanked free and ordered him to leave, gathered
her wits, and listened to her conscience, which screamed
Not
healthy!

But she didn’t budge, and she didn’t speak.

Instead, she skimmed her index finger invitingly along his upper lip and let him take
that one too. He doubled his efforts, closing his eyes to savor the taste of her skin,
gliding his lips up and down over her knuckles and using his tongue in a torrid swirl
that she felt everywhere. She couldn’t believe the intensity in this simple act. With
nothing but two fingers in his mouth, Colt did things to her body she’d never felt
with any other man.

After he’d sucked every trace of icing from her pink-polished nails, he used his thumb
to spread the chocolate from her cheek downward, creating a trail from her jaw to
the top of her shoulder. Again, he paused, giving her a chance to stop him. Again,
she said nothing, answering with a tilt of her head.

Colt wasted no time in cleaning up the mess he’d made. Taking hold of her ponytail,
he pulled back her head and molded his body to hers as he lapped unmercifully at her
throat. Leah rested both elbows on the countertop and savored the intoxicating sensations
of his gifted tongue and the burgeoning erection pressed to her belly. She sighed
into the air, softly at first, then deepening to a low moan when he used his teeth
to scrape the top of her shoulder. He latched onto her neck and sucked hard, and her
knees went slack, forcing her to grip his shoulders for support.

He wrapped both palms around her waist and hoisted her onto the counter before parting
her knees and stepping in between. “Lift your arms,” he ordered in a husky voice that
made her stomach drop into her panties. She obeyed, and he peeled off her shirt and
tossed it aside, then unfastened her bra and shucked it to the floor in one brisk
motion.

On instinct, she covered herself. She barely filled her B-cups, nothing like the women
Colt was used to. She couldn’t compete with their voluptuous bodies, and she felt
too exposed in the harsh sunlight streaming through the kitchen window.

“Don’t.” He gathered her wrists and pinned them behind her back, securing them in
one hand while he used the other to gently cup her right breast. He gazed at her in
wonder and whispered, “You’re perfect, Angel.”

Leah shook her head as her cheeks burned. Nothing about her was perfect—not her itty
bitty chest, or her short legs, and especially not the scar that joined her hipbones
like a macabre version of connect the dots. She wished they were in her bedroom, under
sheets and blankets, so she could cover her flaws.

“I mean it,” he said, kneading her more firmly. “I’ve fantasized about these for the
last ten years.” He reached for the waxed paper and dipped his thumb into a dollop
of cream, then massaged the cool filling into her nipple, bringing it to a hard point.
“I’ve always wanted to do this to you. No one else but you.”

Leah groaned, bowing back to lift her nipple to his mouth, hungry for the same hot
suction he’d used on her fingers. He teased her at first, swirling his tongue around
and around the pebbled tip before licking up the center. She kicked off her Keds,
then locked her ankles behind his back and shamelessly rocked against his stone chest.
When he drew her deep into his mouth, she did it again, desperate for friction to
soothe the hot ache growing between her thighs.

“Do you believe me?” he asked, and blew cool air over her glistening nipple.

“Yes,” she breathed.

At that, he released her wrists and she leaned back, bracing herself on the counter
to grind harder against him in a brazen drive for release. Somewhere in the recesses
of her mind, she knew she should feel embarrassed for rubbing on him like a cat in
heat, but she didn’t give half a damn. If anything, she only quickened the pace.

“Hold on,” he said while putting a few inches of cold space between them. When she
whimpered in protest, he tucked one hand inside the front of her pants and said, “I
wanna feel you come.”

His fingers slid beneath her bikini briefs and tangled with her blond curls while
his mouth latched on to her neglected nipple. Just when she thought it couldn’t get
any better, he dipped a thumb inside and spread warm lubrication along her sensitive
folds, petting her until she grew so achy she feared she might burst. He isolated
her swollen bundle of nerves between two fingers and slid them back and forth in a
liquid saddle that had her moaning loud enough to stop traffic. All the while, he
drew teasingly on her nipple. She arched her lower back and clenched her thighs around
his body to move in time with him, faster and faster, until she felt her inner walls
tense for release.

“More,” she cried, closing her eyes to savor the pleasure washing over her.

He gave her what she needed, stroked her harder while thrusting a finger deep inside,
where she shuddered around him in fierce spasms. Her lips parted in a muted scream,
head tipped back as she gripped the counter ledge and rode his hand with a wild fury
she didn’t know she possessed. Wave after wave crested before the last one left her
sated, and her body finally went limp.

The tremors had barely ceased when Colt pulled her to sitting, grabbed her by the
thighs, and carried her to the table. “We can do a lot better than that, honey.”

Leah shook her head, still drugged and gasping for air. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

He swept a pile of mail to the floor and laid her down on the cool oak, then peeled
off her yoga pants. “Watch me do the impossible.” He spread her legs and fit himself
to her, gliding the steel ridge of his erection in slow circles over her aroused flesh.

“Oh, god,” she swore. “Maybe we can.” She planted both heels on the table and rose
to meet him, greedy for more. She hooked her thumbs beneath the waistband of her panties
and tried tugging them down. “I want you inside me. Hurry.”

He groaned in approval but quickly stilled her hands. “No.”

“Why?”

“You’re not ready.”

“Yes, I am.” And she showed him with a decadent arch of her hips. “Touch me again
and see.”

“Shit, baby.” He pinned her wrists to the table and lowered onto her body, resting
his forehead on her chest in an obvious struggle for control. But for what, she didn’t
know. She’d just offered herself to him. He didn’t have to wait another second. “You’re
not makin’ this easy for me,” he whispered.

It didn’t get any easier than this. She wrapped one leg around him and said, “I want
you, Colt. I’m ready.”

After releasing her wrists, he propped himself on one elbow and gazed down at her
beneath lids heavy with lust. “You’re ready here,” he said, using the heel of his
hand to massage the dampened fabric of her panties. Just as she’d closed her eyes
and started to writhe against his palm, he withdrew and rested it above her heart.
“But not here.”

“I am,” she insisted. “I promise.”

“No, Angel.” He cupped her cheek. “I got you all worked up, but when it’s over and
you come back down, you’ll be sorry it happened. Just like last time.” Something in
his eyes shifted, sadness mingled with desire, and she felt a tug at her belly. “I
don’t think I could take it if you regretted making love with me again.”

Leah didn’t know what to say—he’d stunned her into silence.

He skimmed his hand down her face, along the outside curve of her breast, over her
waist and hips to her cotton bikinis, where he pulled them back up. “We can fool around
all you want, but these have to stay on until the time’s right.” His gaze moved over
her features as if worried for her reaction. “Until you’re sure. Okay?”

She only nodded, unable to speak over the thickness in her throat.

This wasn’t the Colt she remembered—the arrogant boy who’d seduced her in that hot
and dusty shed ten years ago. This Colt was all man—and a
good
man, at that.

She stroked the smooth edge of his jaw and pulled him in for a soft kiss, a tender
brush of lips to show how much his actions warmed her heart. In response, he opened
to her, using his tongue to trace her lower lip in an invitation that she took. She
delved inside where the flavor of éclairs lingered on his mouth. She’d come to associate
his kisses with the taste of vanilla cream and chocolate icing. And much like those
pastries, one nibble wasn’t enough.

She pulled him harder against her, making love to his mouth if not his body, absorbing
all the sweetness he had to offer. And he offered nearly everything he had, sliding
his tongue between her parted lips as he crushed her beneath his weight and ground
his hips against her in a slow, delicious rhythm.

He broke the kiss to take her earlobe between his teeth, rolling to the side just
enough to slip his fingers once again beneath the cotton of her briefs. Using his
thumb, he traced her stiff bud while probing deep with his index finger. She spread
wider for him and arched her back, willing him to go further, and then he twisted
that finger to face the ceiling and massaged an erotic zone she didn’t know she had.
Her toes curled in response while an animalistic noise rose from the back of her throat.