His tone made her tremble. His hands were gentle, belying the fierce temper rising. She felt it like a gathering hurricane, a volcano set to blow any moment. The relief of feeling Wyatt's fingers against her bare skin was tremendous. She gave a little shudder, shocked at how repulsed she'd been. More shocked that she hadn't felt the least little tingle of hunger.
You misunderstand, she said softly, her fingers twisting in the material of her skirt, bunching the fabric into her fist nervously. He triggered aggression in me. Venom. I was so repulsed I wanted - even needed - to protect myself. I didn't know if I was supposed to allow him to touch me like that, but it felt wrong. I didn't like it at all.
She felt the change in him instantly. His hands stroked up her leg and back over her calf. He gently removed her shoe, his head down as his hands glided over her foot. He lifted her foot just a little, his palm sliding over the heel, the arch and finally to the ball and toes, a caress. She felt his touch as if it was an arrow piercing her heart.
The venom receded. The tight coil in her belly unfurled. Her muscles relaxed and the tingles were not only in her feminine core, but her breasts as well. With just his small touch, Wyatt erased the memory of the other man's hands on her skin.
Are you angry with me, Wyatt? She felt anxious, as if she'd let him down.
No, baby, I'm angry with myself. I should have protected you better. Not misunderstood or allowed my jealousy free rein. It won't happen again. I'll do better. This is a learning process for both of us.
Wyatt slipped the high heel on her foot. It was black with black leather lacy cutout all the way up from the middle of the shoe to her ankle. It was the sexiest shoe she'd ever seen. It felt sexy on, or maybe it was the way his hands kept stroking her skin.
Wyatt? She waited until his eyes met hers. I didn't feel anything sexual at all. Whatever you did took it away. His touch repulsed me. She took a deep breath before she made her confession. But when you touched me, I went damp. My breasts ached all over again.
His gaze turned hot. Intense. He reached up, curled his hand around the nape of her neck and brought her head down to his. His mouth claimed her. Hot. On fire hot. She was fairly certain no other man on Earth could kiss like him. He was a brilliant kisser. She never wanted him to stop. She forgot where they were. Forgot her own name. There was only Wyatt pouring himself down her throat and into her heart.
He was the one who broke the kiss, murmuring softly to her, his forehead against hers while he stared into her eyes. She had to struggle to find air.
"You make me forget to breathe," she whispered aloud.
His smile was slow and sexy, lighting his eyes. His gaze, so focused on her, kept her struggling for breath. "That's a good thin', sugar. Let's get this other shoe on you. I've got plans. I also spotted some very sexy black boots with a nice stiletto heel. We need those too."
His voice had a sexy rasp to it. Suddenly she wanted to know all about his plans. Her gaze dropped to his lap. He was hard. He seemed to always be hard. Pepper knew what it was like to be in a constant state of arousal and it wasn't comfortable. She frowned as he slid the other high heel onto her foot and slipped the tiny buckle into place.
Did you somehow trade my state of being sexually aroused to you?
Nope. Just lookin' at you makes me hard. Don' worry about me, sugar, I figure you can always take care of me with that super-talented mouth of yours on our way back to the huntin' cabin. And then I can take care of you. See how that works?
She laughed softly and stood up, one hand on his shoulder for balance. He slipped his hand around her ankle and moved it up her calf and then past her knee while she stood there. Possession. It felt good to be his. To have him claim her in little ways, with his hand, with his eyes, with the way his body stayed so close to hers.
She was well aware of his enhancements. His nose was quite close to her center. He couldn't fail to scent her eager compliance. I see you have this all worked out.
He nodded solemnly, sliding his hand up her thigh, his fingers caressing and stroking. I've been givin' it some thought and I definitely want your mouth on me. Doesn' help me thinkin' about it. Just makes me harder. But that's okay because when I slide down your throat and you're suckin' I'll be in fuckin' paradise.
Pepper laughed and strutted across the room, knowing his eyes were on her every step of the way. She ignored Alain, who stared at them with his mouth open. He didn't matter. She could care less what he thought. There was only Wyatt. Sweet, wonderful Wyatt. Her wild, sexy Cajun man.
"We have to have those, babe," Wyatt declared. He crooked his little finger at her. "Now the boots. We still have to put in the order for the supplies and go shopping for the girls. I don' know if I can wait that long."
Deliberately she took her time walking back to him, her smile for him only. You don't have to wait for the ride home, Wyatt. Find us a secluded place and I can take care of you right now.
She saw his breath catch in his throat as he slipped the heels off and replaced them with the boots.
Now? In town?
I'm getting hungry for you. The taste of you is in my mouth.
He groaned aloud as she once more walked across the room. Woman, you're goin' to kill me.
I know you were looking forward to that ride home, but we can conduct a little experiment and see, after taking care of you here, whether or not I can make you hard all over again on the way home. It's important to know, right?
She felt totally exhilarated, teasing him. She felt part of him, intimate, as if she truly did belong to him.
Wyatt held out his hand to her as she came back across the room. His fingers enveloped hers and he brought her hand to his mouth, lightly biting down on the pads of her fingers before letting her go so he could pull off her boots.
I have always enjoyed experiments, babe, but you're not blowin' me in any fuckin' bathroom. No woman of mine is goin' to go into a germ-riddin' place like that. I'll have to give this some thought.
On the pretext of reaching for her own shoes, Pepper brushed her palm over his lap, over his fantastic bulge, feeling the heat right through the denim he wore. His cock jumped beneath her stroke, reaching for her, as eager as she felt. The best part was, the way she was feeling was entirely natural.
You make me happy, Wyatt. Thank you. She hadn't known what happiness could feel like. There was no way to explain that to him.
Pepper stayed very close to him while he paid for the boots and heels. In fact, she made certain to stand in front of him, leaning into his body just to feel the hard length of him pressed into her skin. His arms reached around her as he handed Alain money for the purchases, his chin finding the top of her hair.
Pepper reached behind her and stroked a caress over that thick bulge. I'm getting impatient. I really, really want you in my mouth.
She made certain her palm was cupping the thick berth of his shaft when she whispered her confession to him into his mind, letting him see her eagerness. The hunger for the taste and feel of him. Her need to give him pleasure in return for all the pleasure he gave her.
I know just the place, honey. There's a Christmas tree farm adjacent to the river. It isn't far to walk and we can find a secluded place. He bent his head and licked behind her ear, and then his teeth nipped her earlobe.
We're definitely visiting the cabin on the way home,
she decreed. I'm already getting hot and wet for you. After this and then shopping more and then the car ride, I'm going to need you.
Laughing softly, he locked his arms right under her breasts, dropping his mouth to the side of her neck to kiss her there. I'm plannin' on ridin' you long and hard, babe. Let's get movin' before I burst.
Pepper moved.
Chapter 12
Trap Dawkins was a billionaire. He hadn't inherited the money - he'd made it, starting up his own company at the age of thirteen. He was a certified genius as well as a gifted healer. What made him join the GhostWalkers no one knew for certain because he rarely explained himself. Sometimes Wyatt allowed himself to think Trap had followed him there. It wasn't a good feeling, and Trap always went his own way without explanation, so Wyatt reminded himself of that whenever that niggling guilt showed its ugly face.
Trap had ice water running in his veins, and Wyatt was never quite certain whether he actually had the fear gene either. He doubted if Trap's heart rate ever rose. The man was cool under fire, and every member of their team knew they could count on him to walk through hell for them.
Wyatt had liked the man from the moment they met that first year of college when they were on the same path. Trap was in his early thirties but seemed much older. He rarely smiled and he had an amazing singing voice. He didn't use it often, but in their worst moments, with the sky raining bullets and the bloodied bodies of fellow soldiers in their hands, he would suddenly break into a church hymn. Nine times out of ten, no one sang with him because they were too awed at the power and beauty of his voice.
Trap was also a straight-up assassin. No one could get in and out of buildings or encampments undetected like he could. He was a total enigma. Wyatt was eternally grateful that the man was on his side. He'd agreed to come the moment Wyatt called. His agreement had been a short grunt and the conversation was ended because he was already on the way. He'd known Trap would come if he asked for help. Trap considered him a friend - more a brother - even more, he was part of their GhostWalker unit, which sealed them as family.