Dangerous Tease (15 page)

“So we won't go there.”

He shook his head. “Not necessarily.
It makes the most sense since that's where Rebecca spent most of her pre-married life in Dry Creek. The others didn't have the map, so we can't discount the homestead right away.”

“Wait, you said
most
of her pre-married life.”

“That's right. Turn to page forty-eight in the book you were going to toss at me.”

Josie flipped open the tome, flicking the pages until she got to the right one. “Mrs.
Joseph McNerny.”

“Bridgette McNerny was a widowed mother of six who had a farm here.” His finger slid a few centimeters southeast. “This is where Rebecca stayed right after giving up on going further west on the Oregon Trail. She was there for only a month.”

“Has anyone searching starting there?”

“A few, but again, they didn't have the map so they were just marching toward McPherson's Bluff,
digging at any spot that looked promising.”

“And to think the map was hidden in the diary the whole time.”

Sam pushed away from the desk, his hazel eyes focusing on her with as much intensity as if he touched her. “We miss all kinds of treasures that are right in front of us.”

The invisible line of attraction pulling them toward each other strengthened. God, he undid her. If she didn't watch
it, she'd lose focus, and with her parents’ safety on the line, that couldn't happen.
Forget the lust and get back to business
.

Forcing her attention away from his defined chest, she turned her back to him and stared at the map. “So how do you want to work this?”

“We head out at first light, which is in a couple of hours, so you might as well rest here.”

Now that sounded dangerous. “I don't
think that's a good idea.”

He drew a line of fire across the small of her back. “Why's that?”

“We need to stay focused.”

Sam glanced out the darkened window. Not even a tweet filtered in through the opening. “Dawn isn't for a few more hours.”

“Just enough time to form a decent plan. Come on, you're Mr. OCD, don't tell me you're willing to just fly by the seat of your pants.”

A heavy quiet
filled the room. Sam strolled over to the filing cabinet and slid shut the drawer she'd left open. He flicked away an imaginary piece of dust from the metal surface. “Maybe I'm obsessed by something other than order these days and am willing to shake things up a bit.”

That woke up the butterflies in her stomach. The truth of it was she didn't want to leave. Hadn't wanted to since that first night
in Vegas. If it had been anyone other than Sam, would she have spent so much time trying to get him to partner up in the hunt for Rebecca's Bounty? No. She would have taken what she needed and pushed forward blindly into the unknown. All by herself.

But being on her own had never felt lonely—not until she'd met Sam.

She glanced down at the tattoo on the inside of her wrist.
Adventure is worthwhile
in itself
. How long had it been since she'd lived up to that motto? Not since L.A. For too long she'd let cynical bravado take the place of an open mind and free spirit. The one-night stands had been fun, but she'd never spent a second night out of fear of misplacing her trust again. Nothing had been stopping her from seriously painting in Vegas except for her own doubts and insecurities. So she'd
dabbled and played instead of creating something that stirred her soul.

What a liar she'd become. Worst of all, she'd been lying to herself.

All this time, Josie had been pretending to be this brassy, ballsy chick when in reality she'd been hiding in plain sight, becoming just as emotionally closed off and controlling as the man in front of her. If he could break loose a little, so could she.

“Forget it. Just be back here in two hours.” He'd pulled back from her, his flirting demeanor replaced by a tension that stiffened his muscles and put a bit of a snarl to his mouth.

Suddenly jittery, Josie swallowed past her nerves. “If it's okay, I'd like to stay.”

S
am flipped the switch above the kitchen sink and the small florescent bulb blinked twice and then buzzed to life. Obsessed with her. Whatever possessed him to say that? Intrigued, a bit confused maybe, but he wasn't obsessed. Old man Freud laughed at him from the grave.

“Here, let me get the mugs.” Josie's shoulder brushed his as she opened a cabinet.

Caught off guard by
her nearness, he fumbled the bag of coffee. It hit the floor with a thump and dark beans rolled across the beige tiles. They crouched down to grab the beans. Sam's head cracked against Josie's, knocking them both back.

He rubbed his cheekbone, now intimately aware of what he'd be in for if he ever switched places with a gong.
Impressive, Layton. Way to wow her with your amazing skills
.

“Are
you okay?”

She snorted and massaged the top of her head. “I'll live. Man, and I thought I had a hard head.”

“You do.” Sitting back on his heels to put some distance between them, he fought the urge to push her hands aside so he could check her for injury.
Oh fuck it.
“Here, let me look.”

His fingers slid through her smooth curls. Right away he realized she wasn't hurt, but he kept parting her
hair and pretending to examine her head while he inhaled her amber perfume. The woman sent his blood flowing south and turned him into a bumbling idiot without even trying. The smart move would be to stay the hell away from her, but his brain had lost the fight the moment she’d walked into his lecture hall.

“What do you think would have happened if we'd met here in Dry Creek instead of Vegas?
If no one had ever found that map?”

Sam's gaze locked on the tile beneath his knees. Bland. Colorless. Beige. That's what his life would be like without Josie. He'd flirted his way out of his comfort zone in Vegas, drawn in at first by her bombshell looks but held tight by the intelligence and courage behind the pretty face. He never would have had the balls to even approach her in Dry Creek.

“I don't know.”

Her gray eyes didn't betray any reaction to his words. “Well, we'll never know anyway. I'll live, so let’s get that coffee made.” She brushed his hand from her head and stood up, cupping a handful of coffee beans in her palm.

“Josie…” Sam rose to his feet, bringing his body in line with hers from toes to lips.

He had so much to say to her, to explain that in Dry Creek he'd
been playing the same role for so long it was nearly impossible to change. Meeting her in Vegas had been like getting struck by lightning, a one in a million chance to find a part of himself that he thought had died along with Michael. The part willing to take a risk, that wasn't afraid to stand out in the crowd.

But despite his PhD and Scrabble-worthy vocabulary, his mouth couldn't form the
words.

Instead, he lowered his lips to hers, trying to tell her everything he couldn't utter out loud. His hands found her hips and he drew her closer, eliminating any space between them until her T-shirt-covered breasts caressed his bare chest.

The coffee beans spilled from her hand, pinging across the tile floor, and she wound her arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. She moaned
against him and Sam took full advantage, slipping his tongue between her lips to curl around hers.

He couldn't feel enough of her, taste enough of her, have enough of her. God, would he ever be able to?

He smoothed his hands down her hips, the denim of her jeans barring him from feeling the soft flesh of her curves. The thick material frustrated him while at the same time the can't-touch-me
factor heightened his need. Curling his fingers around her inner thighs, he spread her legs as he lifted her higher until her long limbs wrapped around his waist. Her hot pussy pressed against the hard cock still shrouded by the thin cotton of his pajama bottoms.

Needing to taste more of her, Sam broke the kiss and trailed his lips across her jaw, stopping only once he reached her earlobe, eliciting
another moan.

She arched her neck to provide him with better access and undulated against his dick, precum already moistening the tip. The things this woman did to him. Not just with her body, but she seemed to know him almost better than he knew himself. He loved seeing the challenge in her gray eyes whenever she called him on his bullshit. Josie pushed him, made him want to be more, be better.

Her short fingernails scraped against his chest, bringing him back to the matter at hand: showing her what he couldn't put into words. She flicked his flat nipple, circling it with her thumb. Impatience vibrated off her heated skin. Wanting to stoke the flames, he abandoned her earlobe for the creamy flesh of her long neck, nibbling his way down the long column as he lowered her feet back to the
ground.

Electricity sparked across his skin when her pink tongue lapped at his nipple, the normally sedate nub coming to life under her wicked mouth. He grasped the soft material at the bottom of her thin T-shirt, holding on to it as she slithered down to her knees until his hands were left holding an empty black shirt. Her mouth closed over his prick where it tented the material of his pajama
pants and the world lost focus. He arched against her even as his brain tried to resist her siren's lure.

It took every last bit of sanity still in his grasp to step back and recall his purpose.

Staring up at him with her big gray eyes that had darkened to steel, Josie licked her lips. Her hard nipples fought against the sheer red of her bra. Unable to stop himself, he reached inside one cup
and freed one a full breast. The porcelain of her skin contrasted starkly with the scarlet lace. Without prompting, she rolled one pink nipple between her thumb and finger while her free hand squeezed her still-covered tit. Fuck, she looked delicious.

His hands itched to reach inside his pants and stroke himself until he came all over her milky skin. His cock bobbed with excitement at the idea.
Instead, he reached out and captured her chin, his thumb raking across her bottom lip and dipping inside. Never losing eye contact, she sucked and curled her tongue around the thick digit.

“You want my cock in that sweet mouth of yours, Josie?”

She nodded and increased the power of her suction.

“Good. But I need to taste you first, every inch of you.”

He reached down and picked her up and
strode over to the table, where he laid her down. With hands shaking from the intensity of his wanting, he made quick work of the button on her pants, peeling them off her, revealing her long legs. He lifted her left leg into the air, putting her ankle at his mouth's level. A perfect place to begin. His lips traveled the miles from her ankle to the apex of her thighs, reveling in the smooth skin
and strong muscle that twitched under his attentions. When his tongue slid along her wet nether lips, she arched her back and called out his name.

Tension tightened her body underneath him and he circled her opening with his thumb before plunging it in and out in slow repetition. He sucked on her clit in an unrelenting rhythm and relished her mews of pleasure that grew in their voracity when
he added his tongue back into play. She grabbed his head, pushing him deeper. He complied and her body went rigid underneath him with orgasm.

Sam raised his head and took in the wanton sight of her, tousled and clad only in her bra as her chest heaved. Something unlocked in him as he stared down at the princess and the dragon tattoo on her arm. So hard and so soft at the same time. Ferocious.
Brave. Smart. Beautiful. Everything he ever needed.

“I think you've ruined me for the night.” She smirked and sat up. “If not longer.”

But the intensity of the kiss she delivered belied her words. Their hands and mouths were everywhere at once, stroking heated flesh and pushing the desire to higher peaks. Somehow in the process, her bra disappeared and his pajama pants melted away. Naked and
hungry, they stared at each other, the challenge and need in her eyes unmistakable.

“Condom?” She arched an eyebrow. “No worries, I'm on the Pill.”

“Josie ...” Again, words failed him when confronted with the force of nature that was Josie Winarsky.

She glanced down for a second before raising her eyes and staring into his soul. “Let's not talk, Sam. Not now.”

Her fingers curled around his
stiff cock and she stroked, her thumb sweeping over the head and spreading the moisture on the tip and he forgot he could even speak. His body did the talking for him and he grasped her legs again, bringing her ankles to his shoulders. He clutched her hips in his hands and in one bold push, buried himself to the hilt in her wet pussy. Her honeyed walls squeezed him and withdrawing, even a few inches,
bordered on torture. Josie dug her heels into his shoulders and used it to leverage herself as she undulated against him. Pleasure began to build at the base of his spine.

Josie widened her legs and slid them down his side until she wrapped them around his waist. Seizing the opportunity to bring her closer, Sam reached down and brought her up from the table. Face-to-face, she gripped his shoulders,
her nails digging crescents into his skin. Her ass jiggled in his hands as she rode him hard.

He lowered himself to a chair and spun her around so she faced away from him. He watched the play of her muscles and the deep green of the vine tattoos across her back as she took him deep, wrapping him inside her warmth. Needing to touch more of her, he reached around her and slid his finger into her
slick folds, then circled her clit. She collapsed back, resting her head on his chest, and little whimpers that sounded halfway between heaven and hell escaped her lips.

Sam matched the increasing speed of her hips with his fingers on her clit. As her body turned rigid, he grasped her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pulling it taut. She screamed her climax around them, her pussy clenching
his cock, putting him in exquisite agony.

Once her breathing settled a bit, he pushed her forward off his cock, nearly desperate to come now. He led her back to the table, where he bent her forward until her plentiful tits rested against its wood top. He settled between her spread legs, parted her ass cheeks with his hands and pushed forward into her welcoming pussy.