The Seventh Victim (Texas Rangers 1)

Humor softened his face, making him rather handsome.

“You are a brave soldier.”

With her guidance he made two sandwiches, sliced several apples, and brewed a pot of hot tea. They ate in silence. Lara had not realized how hungry she was and how the food went a long way toward settling her shaky nerves.

When they’d finished, Beck balled up his paper napkin and tossed it on his plate. “I spoke to Dr. Granger,” he said. “She told me you two visited.”

“Did she give you the rundown on me?” No missing the hint of anger in her voice.

“She didn’t repeat a word you said, nor would I ask her to. She’s just worried about you.”

She fiddled with a piece of uneaten crust. “I told her I remembered a little about Seattle. Smells. Sounds.” She ran through the meager list of memories.

“That’s a good sign.”

She picked at the crust. “I may not remember all the details. I was so out of it. And I know I suppressed what I could have remembered because my attacker was someone I trusted.”

“Knife wounds to the back hurt the worst.”

“I think it explains why I ran after Seattle, and why I couldn’t return to Austin after the attack. My grandmother asked me several times, and I couldn’t say yes. If she hadn’t passed away and left me her house, I doubt I’d have returned.”

Beck rose and laid his hands on her shoulders. “He’s dead. He’s gone. He cannot hurt you anymore.”

She rested her hand on his. Touching him felt right. “I know that. I do. I just don’t feel it yet.”

Absently his thumb moved in circles on her shoulder. The subtle movement carried with it a world of meaning: compassion, care, and sexual attraction.

The skin where he touched her quickly warmed and the warmth spread down her arms to her fingers. Looking into a penetrating gaze that made her legs weak, she moistened her lips, letting her gaze dip to his mouth. She wanted to kiss him. The idea wasn’t a new one, but now that the case was solved there were no barriers. No restraints. She could find out if he cared as much about her as the case. Rising on tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his.

Tension rippled through his body. “The timing isn’t good, Lara.”

If not for the growl of desire rumbling under his words she might have retreated. “The case is solved. I said I’d have you over for dinner.”

He laid his hand on her shoulder. “You are a witness. You’ve had a trauma.”

“I want to feel alive.” Emboldened, she rose on tiptoes and kissed his lips again. The kiss was gentle, but meant to be flame to tinder.

He traced her bottom lip with his thumb. “Hold off.”

“I’ve been putting off my life for seven years. My new policy is to do what I want to do now, not later.” She traced her hands over his chest, savoring the way his hard muscles tensed under her touch.

“Really?” He captured her hands in his.

“Really.” She cupped his face with her hands and pulled it forward. She kissed him, this time sending him all the pent-up desire and dreams she’d carried inside for seven years.

Moaning, he wound his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. He deepened the kiss, and she pushed her body against his. Desire burned through her veins and sent her heart beating faster than when she ran a country mile on a hot day.

“This is coming from raw emotion.” The smooth edges of his Texas drawl had turned rough.

“I know exactly what I want.” She kissed him again and this time his hand cupped her breast.

The sensations of desire nearly swept her away. She slid her hand over his flat belly and around to his butt. A groan rumbled in the back of his chest and he deepened the kiss.

Lincoln yawned, and she cut her eyes to her right. The dog was staring at them, ears perked. “We do not need an audience.”

She took Beck by the hand and led him down the hallway to her bedroom. Without a word she unbuttoned her blouse and let it drop and pool at her feet. A simple white lace bra covered her breasts.

He raised his hand to her collarbone and gently touched the bruises on her neck. “I should have been there today.”

“You were coming to save me.”

“I wasn’t fast enough.”

She cupped her hand over his and kissed the fingertips. “He fooled us all.”

His jaw tightened as if an invisible force were choking the breath from him.

“It’s okay.” She kissed him on the lips, his jawline and then his neck.

He groaned as if it pained him to hold back and then very slowly backed her up until she bumped into the edge of her bed. His hand flattened on her stomach. “You are sure about this?”

She reached between her breasts and unfastened the clip. Her bra opened and she shrugged it free. “Oh, so sure.”

Beck gently pushed her back so that she sat down. He shrugged off his shirt and toed off his boots. Carefully, he unholstered his gun and set it on her nightstand, which was crowded with half-read books.

She unfastened his large, silver belt buckle, unzipped his pants, and carefully eased her hand over his erection. Hissing in a breath, he stared down at her, his eyes dark with desire.

“Am I doing it right?” she said, suddenly unsure. “It’s been awhile.”

He loosened her braid and threaded his hand through her hair. “You’re doing it just right.”

Beck moved forward until his bulk forced her to sit on the edge of the mattress and lie back. For a moment he stood and stared at her, his hand tracing the edge of her jaw and then her lips. She took his hand in hers and pulled him forward. He followed easily, his weight pressing her down, enveloping her. He kissed her neck. “Like riding a bike, darlin’. Once you have the basics you never forget.”

No witty comeback came to mind. In fact, she doubted she could string two words together right now.

Deftly, he slid her pants over her hips and squeezed her bottom in his hands. She wriggled out of the pants and kicked them free. He kissed her again, and this time his fingers slid under the silk of her panties. When he touched her, she hissed and arched into him. She’d not felt this alive in years.

As he kissed her, she fumbled with the snap on his jeans and then unzipped his pants. Her fingers brushed hot, naked skin and he gasped. She’d forgotten how good desire felt, to want a man and to touch him in ways that made them both forget.

He settled between her legs, hard, ready, and yet waiting. “Last chance, Lara.”

Desire fogged her brain. “For what?”

He cupped his hands around her face, as his erection pressed against her belly. “To quit.”

She moistened her lips. “If I quit now, I will burn up in a ball of fire.”

A smile tugged at the edges of his lips. “That so?”

She pushed against him. “Don’t keep me waiting, cowboy.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He eased into her, his body expanding hers in a way that was uncomfortable at first. “So tight,” he whispered against her ear.

Longing coursed through her veins as his scent covered her as he moved inside her. Gradually her muscles eased, and she accepted all of him.

Despite his deliberately careful thrusts, his body contained the coiled intensity of a tornado skimming across the prairie. So much power and so much energy, yet distant enough so there was no damage.

However, she wanted him to unleash that energy, that force of nature pent up inside of him. She wanted all of him.

Lara cupped his face in her hands, pulled his face toward hers, and kissed him. Waves of tension rippled through his body as he deepened the kiss and filled her body with energy.

She’d given her body once before to a lover in college, but those youthful exchanges had always left her spirit and body wanting. And then after the attack, there’d been no man she’d been able to trust.

With Beck she could feel the need growing inside her belly, hot and furious, ready to erupt and wash over and into every dark corner of her body.

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She moaned and pressed her hips up to his. He ground deeper inside her, planting a hand on either side of her head as he moved in and out.

In a different time, she’d have wanted this dance between them to be slow, like a waltz. But the tempo had been feverous from the outset.

The wanting in her grew until she could only think of him. He ground into her, growling her name in her ear. Within seconds their tempo peaked and exploded as their orgasms crashed over them. Silence wrapped around them, and for one blissful moment they were one heart.

Afterward, Beck lay on his side, his sun-darkened hand draped on her lily-white belly.

“Your heartbeat is still racing,” he said, pleased.

She traced her fingertips over his knuckles and down the veins in his hands. “I’m grateful it didn’t stop.”

He chuckled softly. “We wouldn’t want that to happen, now would we, darlin’?”