“Not more than I need you.” Gently he laid her on the bed, following her down, covering her with his weight.
She didn’t resist, but relished the feel of him on top of her. With a groan, he buried his lips against her neck, exploring the pulse points at the base of her throat. Laurel threaded her hands through his hair. Every kiss made her belly tingle with need. She wanted more.
“Please,” she whispered. “Kiss me.”
“I am,” he said softly, nipping at the delicate skin just below her ear.
“Garrett.” She couldn’t stop the frustration from lacing her voice.
“How about here?” He nibbled the lobe of her ear. “Or here?” He worked his way down, shifting her shirt aside, and tasted the skin just above her collarbone.
Laurel stirred beneath him until finally he raised his head. He tugged at her lower lip. “Or how about here?”
His mouth swooped down and captured hers. He pressed her lips open and she moaned in relief that she could finally taste him. She returned his kiss for kiss. Her hands seemed to have a mind of their own, exploring the strength of his back through his shirt. She hated the barrier between them. She wanted to touch him, skin to skin. She wedged her hands between them, unbuttoning his shirt and shoving the material off his shoulders.
He stilled above her, looking at her, his gaze intense, hesitant, full of warning. Her fingertips paused when she encountered roughened skin.
Burns. The car bomb.
He let out a slow sigh then moved off of her, lying on his back. “I should have warned you.” His shirt fell open and she pulled away. His chest was mostly unmarred, except for a long surgical scar down his midline.
“You think what happened changes anything? It makes me want you even more.” She didn’t hesitate, but straddled his hips and traced the scar.
He looked up at her and caught her fingertip. “My entire back was turned when the car exploded. There was a lot of damage. I had several rounds of skin grafts. During surgery my heart stopped. I died on the operating table and they cracked me open.” His voice was detached, his jaw tight, holding back emotion. “It’s not pretty,” he said. “It will never be pretty.”
“And if I could have Ivy back, you think the scars would make me love her less? You earned these badges of courage.” Laurel moved her hands up to his shoulders, venturing a tentative touch on the puckered skin. “Does it hurt?”
“I can’t always feel when you touch me. And in some places the nerve endings go a little haywire, but mostly no. It’s healed as much as it’s going to.”
He didn’t move, didn’t try to pull her to him, didn’t try to kiss her. He simply lay there gazing up at her. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Neither do you, but you’re the bravest man I know and I don’t think you’ll chicken out now,” she said and leaned forward, gently, tenderly pressing her lips to his. “I want this. Now. With you. Tell me if I hurt you.”
She lifted her shirt over her head and removed her bra. His eyes hooded as he cupped her breast in his hand and drew his thumb across her nipple. It beaded in response and a sharp tingle lit in her belly. A small whimper escaped her and she gripped his shirt.
He smiled, the defensive expression in his eyes darkening to desire once again. “I can’t believe you want me.” Garrett tugged her down to him, his palm against the small of her back, rocking her hips against his, his desire evident.
“Can you feel me now?” she whispered, shifting her body, evoking a groan from him.
“Definitely.” He flipped her over and threw his shirt off the side of the bed. “You’re an amazing woman, Laurel McCallister.”
She wrapped her arms around him, blinking back the hurt for him when she encountered the mottling of scars down his back and a few strips of unblemished skin. She yanked him down closer and wrapped her legs around his hips. “Show me how amazing you think I am. I don’t want to wait another second.”
* * *
THEY WERE IN the middle of nowhere. Still.
Strickland peered out the front window. The SUV’s headlights broke through the early evening, but a cluster of trees and an avalanche of rocks blocked the path. They’d reached the end of the road.
“Damn it.” He hit the steering wheel. “How far is Bradley from here?”
Krauss studied the screen. The red dot was immobile. “Couple of miles, according to this. He’s not moving.”
Strickland rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Give me the city any day of the week. I hate the West. Too much godforsaken territory to cover.”
“We going back to Trouble?”
“Not a chance. Get your canteen,” Strickland ordered. “We’re going after him. He won’t expect us to track him out here.”
“We’re really heading out at night?”
“You want to tell the boss we’re taking the evening off?” Strickland asked.
Krauss muttered to himself as he grabbed the water and his weapon. “This is a mistake. Weren’t you a Cub Scout or something? We don’t know the country. Anything could be out there. It’s easy to get turned around in the darkness.”
Strickland tapped the glowing red light on Krauss’s monitor. “We’ve got a beacon to light the way. Besides, we don’t have a choice. Now come on.”
They exited the SUV and Strickland grabbed an M16, slinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll tell you one thing, though. I’m not hauling those bodies down this mountain. Once we kill them, we leave them to rot.”
* * *
GARRETT COULDN’T BELIEVE Laurel was here, in his bed, beneath him, with her long, lean legs wrapped around him. His body surged in response to her arch.
She grasped his shoulders and her hands moved to his back.
He couldn’t believe she hadn’t politely said good-night and walked away. Garrett didn’t think about the scars on his back that often. Just when he’d rub against something the wrong way and the nerves fired, as if a thousand pins were stabbing him.
Laurel nipped at his ear. “I want you,” she whispered. “Now.”
No more than he wanted her.
He rubbed his chest against her, reveling in the feeling of their skin touching. With each caress of his chest against her budded nipples, she let out a low moan, shivering against him. He moved again, and this time, she hugged him close, tilting her pelvis into his hardness. God, she was so responsive. She didn’t hold anything back. He’d never been with a woman who was so honest about what she wanted.
Her hands worked their way between them to the waist of his pants, tugging at his stubborn belt in frustration.
He lifted away, forcing her legs to release him. He hated she no longer held him captive, but he wanted her wild for him. He wanted to drive them both so crazy that the past and the past week would vanish...at least for a moment.
With a quick flick, he removed the leather belt and threw it to the side of the bed before unbuttoning the waist. She shoved at his hand, but he gripped her fingers. “Not yet.”
He lifted her hands above her head, pinning them down with one of his own. He gazed at the rise and fall of her chest. Her breathing quickened beneath his gaze, her blue eyes transformed into cobalt pools. That she trusted him enough to give him control caused his body to throb in response. He let his fingers stroke her cheek and drew her lip down. Her tongue snaked out to taste his finger. He smiled at her and let her suckle for a moment before taking his hand around her jawline, down her throat, where the pulse raced.
Her