Running from the Past - Page 9/18

“Honey, I don’t ride horses for a living. I’m a breeder. I raise and sell thoroughbreds, cattle, poultry and anything else you can think of. In the winter, I open up part of my land for wilderness survival training to a couple of law enforcement agencies around the state. I also open up a limited section of my land for trail riding and equestrian training. I don’t like to keep all my eggs in one basket so to speak.” Law enforcement? That was interesting. “Are you being deliberately obtuse? How did you get those scars?”

It was hard to concentrate with his penis pressed up against her back and him massaging her temple.

“I was in the Marines.”

Ah. That would account for the menagerie of tattoos. Especially the one on his butt.

She giggled at the thought of the tiny rose on his right cheek. It was so out of place on his hard body.

“That’s funny why?” His hands fell and his voice had taken on a distinctive defensive note.

She turned to face him, letting the water wash the suds from her hair. She resisted the urge to smile at his down-turned mouth. “I wasn’t laughing at that, I was just thinking that must be when you got that adorable little tattoo on your butt. It seems so out of place compared to the tribal designs on your arm and the Celtic symbols on your back.”

Caleb’s face reddened. She blinked once to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. He was actually embarrassed. “Yeah. I lost a bet,” he mumbled and cleared his throat.

She reached her hands around his body and gripped his backside, pulling him against her. She loved the feel of his skin against hers. Since she had to look up to see him, she propped her chin on his chest and grinned up at his scowling face. “I think it’s cute. In fact, I think it’s so adorable, I’ll need to further inspect it.” Her hands tightened on him and she dug her fingernails into his skin. Skin that should’ve been a little soft but was just as firm as the rest of his body. Taut muscles clenched under her grip and his eyes darkened aggressively.

Her pussy clenched when he ran his hands down her hips and his mouth descended on hers. Good. She was tired of all this foreplay. He hungrily ate at her mouth and backed her up against the wall. His hands gripped her hips so tightly she was sure to have bruises. Not that she minded. Not one tiny bit.

He lifted her against the wall and she wrapped her legs around his lean waist. The cool tile against her back was at odds with the steam from the shower and the heat flowing through her veins. Rough hands cupped her behind.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured as he nipped her neck with his teeth.

Not exactly the poetry she’d dreamed of but his words turned her on more than she ever could have imagined because they came from him. He thought she was beautiful.

Chapter Six

Caleb had no finesse. He knew that. He’d never cared before. Now he just wished he had some words other than “you’re so fucking beautiful” to convey to Emma how he felt. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to mind his crude language. If anything, her grip on his ass increased.

With a sudden thrust, he pushed inside her. She wrapped her legs around him even tighter as he pushed up and stilled. She was tight, probably a little sore but she was wet and willing. He’d done a good job of priming her earlier with his tongue, when all he’d wanted to do was drive into her. He’d never been particularly fond of going down on a woman but everything about Emma was so soft and inviting. And she tasted so sweet his cock had wept the moment his tongue touched those inviting folds.

She loved it when he sucked her nipples so he held still, completely embedded inside her and teased her. He made love to her breasts just as he’d done to her clit—

delicately. He watched in fascination as her nipples pebbled to rocks under his caresses.

Her long, dark hair cascaded down both sides of her breasts and along her arms. If he’d thought she’d been his fantasy when she’d first stepped onto his property, he now knew how wrong he was. This was so much better than fantasy. Emma was his living, breathing reality.

Her body writhed against his and in small circular motions, she moved up and down on his cock. He didn’t shift from his position. He understood that she was rubbing her clit against him, even if she didn’t fully know it herself.

Where had she been his whole life? Before his ex left him and before her, sex had been a regular part of his life but it hadn’t been something he couldn’t live without. If a woman was around and willing, he’d been obliging. If not, his fist had always worked fine. Now, he couldn’t imagine Emma not in his bed. Not riding his cock. Not there when he woke up.

This was only the second time they’d fucked and he was thinking of the future?

Man, she was fucking with his head.

He tore his mouth away from her breasts to look at her. Her eyes were closed, her head against the wall and her perfect lips were half open, inviting him. He centered right on her mouth. He needed to taste her. She moaned and without warning, her pussy started contracting around him. Started milking and pulling. Little contractions turned into big ones, drawing him deeper and tighter.

His chest rubbed against her soft skin, the simple motion intensified ten fold as he gripped her hips and began thrusting. He pounded so hard he was afraid he’d hurt her but she just moaned and writhed underneath him. And just like that, he came too. Long, hot jets of semen exploded inside her as he found his release.

When he was through, he laid his forehead against hers and stared into two dark, glittering moons. He cupped her chin with one of his hands but didn’t utter a word. He didn’t want to say anything to screw up the moment. Both of their breathing was erratic and he could feel her staccato heartbeat. The running water had long since turned tepid.

Not quite icy but he knew it wouldn’t be long until it did.

She loosened her legs and he loosened his grip on her, letting her stand.

“Wow.” She found her balance and smiled up at him. A secretive smile that had him wondering where she’d learned to look so damn seductive. She reminded him of the Mona Lisa, like she knew something he didn’t.

“Wow is right.” His cock still stood at attention, even though he should be completely sated. There was no way she’d be ready for another round. Not without sustenance.

“How about we rinse off, then go find some food?” Her entire face lit up as she nodded in agreement. Hungrily, he watched as she rinsed the last soapy remains off her body, then stepped out onto the tile, just beyond the frosted glass enclosure. She grabbed one of the fluffy towels, wrapped herself in it but halted when he didn’t follow suit.

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

He nodded. “I just want to wash my hair and I’m sure you need to get dressed.”

“Okay, I’ll see you in a few.”

She turned to leave but he stopped her. “Emma?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t wear any underwear today.” It wasn’t a question or a request, but an order.

She clutched the towel a little higher against her chest and her cheeks tinged a delightful shade of pink. “We’ll see.”

* * * * *

Once in her room, Emma blow dried some of the dampness out of her hair but didn’t feel like messing with the rest of it. She twisted her thick hair in a low chignon, swept on a layer of mascara and applied some lip gloss, not that she really needed it. As she studied herself in the mirror, it was hard to believe she was looking at the same person as three days ago. She looked…happy. And satisfied.

For most of her life, she’d erected tight, high walls around herself. She’d had to. Her

“friends” back home wouldn’t miss her. How could they miss someone they never even knew? Though Ricardo had sworn up and down she could sleep with whomever she wanted to or carry on discreet liaisons, she’d never taken the risk. What if she’d fallen in love? Then what? Ricardo wouldn’t have let her escape their deal. The stupid deal he forced her into by threatening her mother’s life. That was the same reason she’d never had any real friends since college. It was a lonely existence but at least no one would get hurt or killed because of her. She couldn’t live with that kind of guilt.

For the first time in her life, she wanted to let herself get close to someone. To let herself feel. Now, when she most positively couldn’t. She glanced away from her reflection and retreated to the bedroom. She pulled on a pair of jeans, sans underwear and slipped on a soft Victoria’s Secret hooded sweatshirt. No bra either.

She started to head downstairs when the notebook on her desk caught her eye.

Chewing her bottom lip, she picked it up. It was the number for the FBI Miami Division. According to her on-line research, all calls were anonymous. The bedside clock said it was only nine o’clock.

Quickly, she locked the bedroom door and picked up the phone before she could change her mind. She sighed in relief to hear a dial tone. Her hands shook as she dialed the number but she didn’t hang up even though every fiber in her body screamed that she should.

On the third ring a woman with a pleasant, soothing voice picked up. “FBI, Miami Division. How can I help you?”

Emma opened her mouth to speak but no words would come.

“Hello?”

“Uh, yes, hello. I’d like to speak to Special Agent Sierra.”

“He’s not in. May I direct you to another agent?”

“No. When will he be in?”

“Monday morning but if this is an emergency, I can direct you to any one of our—”

“No thanks.” She hung up the phone before the woman could protest further. She’d done a few searches of John Sierra and the man had won numerous achievement awards. He didn’t seem like the kind of man to take bribes. Time would tell.

Not much to go on, she knew but she couldn’t hide any longer. The guilt was eating at her from the inside. Clawing at her mind and her heart with eagle talons. She’d had plenty of time to think things through. Too much in fact, and now she couldn’t hide anymore. She’d stay until Monday and enjoy every moment until then. She had a lot of memories to pack into a couple days but she was counting on those memories to keep her strong later. Later, when she was alone.