You're the One (16 page)

“If you and
Kirk are working together then it means something is going on. Your
interest in Harding means it has something to do with him.” Smiling
in satisfaction, Del rocked back on her heels. “Now what could it
be?”

Time to tap
that cocky attitude on the head. Moz smiled right back at her. “I
went to see him about a matter to do with livestock, nothing to do
with dogs.” At her scepticism, he added, “And that’s the cold,
hard, stone truth.”

“Trust me,”
Kirk drawled, “he speaks the truth, cold hard stone and all.”

She looked
between them, trying to sort out her theory. Woman was bloody
dangerous, too smart for her own good and too curious to be
safe.

Kirk strode
across the lounge to pick up his leather jacket and helmet from the
floor. “Right, I’m heading off.”

“To
interrogate Harding?” Del followed him.

“Nope. Home to
eat the delicious dinner my woman cooked and spend some time with
her and my baby.” Catching her in a quick, brotherly hug, he
ordered sternly, “Behave yourself, no poking your nose into
anything or I’ll be back in a legal capacity. Understand?”

“Does that
mean you’re here illegally?” she asked pertly.

He looked at
Moz. “All yours.” And strode from the room.

Moz doubted
that Kirk meant it in quite the same way Moz thought it.

He watched Del
leave the room, heard her talking to Kirk as they walked down the
hallway, heard her laugh suddenly followed by Kirk’s admonishment.
Whatever he’d said, it only made her laugh again. Minutes later the
motorbike sounded, the powerful roar of it breaking the quiet as it
went down the driveway and onto the open road, fading as Kirk
headed back into town.

Returning to
the lounge, Del stopped and eyed him, the laughter dying from her
lips.

That was a
damned shame, he liked the sound of her laugh - honest, open and
warm.

Hooking his
thumbs into the back pockets of his jeans, Moz cocked his head
slightly to one side while silently returning her regard.

“Going to
start in on me now?” she asked.

“In what
way?”

“You and Kirk
came here for, in your words, business. He’s left and you’re still
here. Are you going to continue giving me warnings?”

“Nope,” he
replied easily. “I’m done with the business.”

“Just like
that?” She was openly suspicious.

“Just like
that.”

“I find that
hard to believe.”

“We came, we
asked, we warned. I figure you’re smart enough to take those
warnings.” He paused. “If you don’t, I’ll be back breathing
fire.”

Del didn’t
look the in the least worried. “That’s what I gathered.”

He arched one
brow.

“Anyway.” She
straightened the hem of the tank top, smoothing it down over her
hips.

He followed
the move with his eyes. Nice hips. Hips a man could rest on while
covering her body with his, hips a man could hold while thrusting
into her.

“So what are
you still doing here if not to yell further threats at me?”

“Have I yelled
threats yet?”

“Maybe growled
them. Your bite is worse than your bark, remember?”

He grinned.
“You remembered.”

“Kind of hard
not to. Both times you’ve been here I’ve had warnings.”

“Mmm.” He
lifted his gaze to her face. “Business is over. I’m here about
us.”

“Us?”

His voice
lowered. “Us. What happened between us yesterday.”
What will
happen between us.

Wiping her
palms on her shorts, Del cleared her throat and headed over to the
sofa, scooping Missy up and holding her like a shield in front of
her. A very tiny, furry, ineffectual shield.

Was Del
nervous? Nervous to be alone with him? Was it because he’d kissed
her? Because sure as hell she’d never been nervous around him
before. Interesting. Was it a good or bad kind of nerves? He
certainly didn’t want her uncomfortable around him.

Unfortunately,
the heat that had been between them when he’d first arrived seemed
to have disappeared. Well, on her side. On his side it was still
simmering. It had certainly flared between them when they’d kissed
in the shop.

Thinking back
to the kiss, Moz couldn’t help but remember what had happened right
afterwards, making him cringe a little. Okay, something really
needed to be said about that unfortunate retreat. “Del.”

She glanced
up. “Yes?”

“I kissed you
yesterday.”

Cheeks
blooming, her gaze dropped back to the kitten. “Yeah, I kind of
couldn’t help but notice that.”

He took a step
closer. “I’m not sorry I kissed you.”

Del nuzzled
Missy’s head. “Um…okay.”

‘Um…okay’?
Kind of hard to judge her response with that answer. “In fact, I
liked that kiss.”

“Really?” Her
finger stroked around the tiny ears. “I kind of got the impression
that maybe you didn’t like it as much as you’re saying.”

Yep, his
retreat was coming back to bite him right on the arse. Moz sighed
inwardly. “That definitely was not my smoothest move.”

This time her
gaze lifted and locked right onto his. “Is that what it was
supposed to be? A smooth move?” Her cheeks were definitely still
pink, but her eyes were steady.

Del was no
mincing miss, no pretending to be coy. She might be a little
flustered but she was as honest as the day was long.

He liked that,
liked it a lot. Found that forthright way attractive, found it easy
to be forthright in return. “It wasn’t supposed to be a smooth
move.”

“So it was an
accident?”

He couldn’t
help the crooked grin. “It started like that.”

“And ended
with you running like I had the plague.”

“That’s a
little strong.”

“It was all a
little strange.” The pink was fading from her cheeks, an unexpected
hint of laughter in her eyes.

“It’d be fair
to say I panicked a little.”

“A little? You
ran
.”

“I’d say I
hurriedly left.”

“Did I scare
you that much?” Laughter in her eyes, yes, but also wariness. He
didn’t like that wariness, didn’t want her distrust.

Without
removing his thumbs from his pockets, Moz took the two big steps
needed to bring him almost right up against her. Mere inches
separated them, the warmth of her body seeping into him, her scent
tantalising his senses.

Del didn’t
retreat, simply tipped her head back and looked him square in the
eyes. Amusement had been replaced by guardedness. “Don’t start
something you’re not prepared to finish, Moz. That’s not how I
work.”

Now that
didn’t surprise him. Studying her face, he took in the firmness of
her chin, the steadiness of her regard. No pretence, no guile.

He was
starting to find her more and more attractive, and not just in a
carnal sense.

Time to test
the lay of the land. “Do you want me to start something?” Sure as
hell he fully intended to regardless. His attraction for her was
getting stronger with every passing second, his wanting to kiss
her, touch her, growing with every inhale of her scent, with the
sensation of her warm silky skin so close. So very close. He just
wanted to know where she stood.

He wouldn’t
give up, but it would mean a difference in the way he approached
her.

“Are you going
to finish it?” she replied bluntly.

Missy wrestled
with her plait, little black paws wrapped firmly around the silky
rope.

“Do you want
me to finish it?”

Spotting
something on the sofa, the kitten jumped from her hands to land on
the sofa, tunnelling under a cushion, playing happily.

Del didn’t
remove her gaze from him. “I’m not about to stand here and play
twenty questions. You either give me an answer or don’t.”

Mmmm
.
Moz smiled slightly as he locked his gaze on hers. Man, he did
enjoy her frankness.

The beautiful
blueness of her eyes clouded. “It’s obvious you’re playing with me,
Moz. I really thought-”

Moz cut her
words off by simply bending down and closing his mouth over hers.
He didn’t touch her, didn’t pull her into his arms, didn’t remove
his thumbs hooked in his back pockets, but he did kiss her.

Her lips were
as soft and lush as he remembered. Settling fully upon her lips, he
moved his gently against hers in a warm press, not demanding, not
forcing, simply testing the fullness, welcoming the warmth,
relishing the plumpness. A closed kiss, a delicious introduction to
something much hotter, more baser, a hint of more to come without
going further than a brush and press of silky, sensitive skin to
silky, sensitive skin.

Innocent the
kiss might be, but it had the blood pooling in his groin, a hot
flush of need uncurling low and deep.

Lifting his
head just enough to be able to meet her eyes comfortably, he
drawled huskily, “Want me to finish this kiss?”

“You better,”
she whispered, “or I’m going to knee you right in the nuts.”

Amused, he
smiled. “I’d make you kiss it better, baby, and that’s a
promise.”

Startled, her
mouth opened, he swooped in for the kill.

Covered her
mouth, his lips keeping hers open, tongue licking deep, and Jesus,
she tasted just as sweet as he’d dreamed. Like hot honey he could
drink down forever. Without touching her, he melded them together
with just his mouth, plundering the hot depths, licking at the
nectar of her, her taste filling him, making him want more, so much
more.

It was Del who
grabbed him, hands fisting in his t-shirt, pulling him closer. Her
body that pressed against his, her thigh that slipped between his
muscled ones. She made it so easy for him to grab her, hands
wrapping around her hips, pulling her hard against him, bending her
backwards, making her cling to him or fall. Making her rely on
him.

That was a
heady sensation all on its own.

Pressing
closer, her arms slid around his neck. She kissed him back almost
hungrily, taking from him as much as he did from her, tasting him,
taunting him almost as she slid from his mouth, pulled back a
little, her laugh a dusky, teasing lilt that promised decadent
desire.

The heat
inside Moz unfurled rapidly, snapped hotly, wound round his
cravings and boiled them up to the surface, spilling over in carnal
ardour that fed from him to her, meshing them together in erotic
sensations.

Her body
undulated against him, softness against his hardness, curves
against hard muscle, slimness against the bulk of power.

Lust swelled,
filling his shaft, making it throb hard and stiff, fire racing
through him, hunger for her filling him, taking control like a dark
fire.

All thought of
talking was long gone, replaced with the basest of urges. The need
to bury himself in the warm, curvy body in his arms, to plunder
that hot, sweet mouth, to take from her, give to her, be inside her
so deep she wouldn’t doubt who was with her.

His hand slid
under her tank top, cupped a full breast clad in a lacy bra. As he
hungrily ate at her mouth, he searched with his fingers, found the
snap of her bra between the lacy cups, unsnapping it with one deft
flick to release the full breasts. Cupping one, he weighed the
generous globe, felt her press against him, swallowed her moan.

It wasn’t
enough.

Drawing back a
little, he scraped his teeth across her jaw, down the side of her
throat, nipped the tender flesh there, at the same time he hooked
his fingers into the top of her shorts and dragged them down her
hips to drop to the floor, followed by a pair of lace panties.
Palming the smoothly curved cheeks of her bottom, he dug his
fingers in lightly, scraped the rounded flesh, yanked her hard
against him again as he laved the pulse beating so wildly in her
throat.

“God, Moz.”
Her breaths came in pants, hands gripping his shoulders, nails
digging in as she arched under his touch, his fingers trailing down
the cleft of her buttocks and lower.

A nudge of his
knee between hers and her thighs parted, allowing his marauding
fingers to glide lower, the heat of her secrets beckoning to
him.

Aching,
throbbing, demanding release, his shaft pressed urgently against
the confines of his zipper. His pulse beat hard, strong, blood
surging hotly through his veins, centering on so many different
things and only one all at once. Her taste, her touch, her skin,
her heat…his fire.

He brought her
to the floor with him, laying her beneath him, staying on his hands
and knees as he continued to kiss her, plundering the honeyed
depths of her mouth, feeling her kiss him back hungrily, her hands
pulling at his shirt, her small palms coming to lie flat on his
hard abdomen.

One-handed he
pushed her tank top up, the bra cups falling to the sides to bare
her breasts to his gaze.

Beautiful. So
bloody beautiful. Big breasts, tear-shaped, natural, full, pink
nipples budded and begging to be touched. To be sucked. To be
laved.

Sliding
downward, he ducked his head, took one nipple deep into his mouth
and sucked hard.

Del arched up,
his name a sudden, sharp sob in the room.

His name on
her lips sounded so damned good. So damned right.

Drawing on the
tight little bud, hollowing his tongue to rub against it, rubbing
the tender flesh, he had Del arching and twisting beneath him,
alternately pulling him closer and trying to push him away as
though it was too much to bear all at once, the sensations hitting
her hard.

Moz’s free
hand slid down her flat belly, lower to the curls protecting her
secrets. When she wouldn’t give to him immediately, he slid his
knee between the slender thighs, forcing them open to allow his
hand freedom.

Dampness dewed
the tight curls and it was so easy to part her thighs further,
slide his hand deeper, middle finger gliding through the
exquisitely slick flesh of her labia to lay against the wet seam of
her body. Her cream guided him to the entrance of her body, the hot
wetness calling to him, and he slid his finger deep.