Killjoy (Buchanan-Renard #3)

Killjoy (Buchanan-Renard #3) Page 40

Shivers raced down Avery’s spine. Her hands had been balled into fists, but as he tickled her earlobe with the tip of his tongue, she began to relax. His sweet warm breath against her sensitive skin only made her shivers intensify. She could feel the strength, the power of those hard, steely muscles under her fingertips. How could anyone this strong be so very gentle? She sighed into his neck and dropped her head on his shoulder.

“Pay attention, sweetheart. I’ve got some ground rules too.”

She lifted her head and stared into his eyes. Why hadn’t she noticed how incredibly beautiful they were? When he smiled, they lit up.

“Yes?”

“Do you trust me?”

Trust him? She was falling utterly in love with him. Of course she trusted him. She was terrified of admitting it, though. “That’s not a rule.”

He wouldn’t let her dodge the question, and when she tried to distract him by pressing against his groin and kissing him, he shook his head. “I already know the answer, but I want . . . no, I need to hear you say the words.”

“You are the most opinionated, obstinate, exasperating man I’ve ever known, but almost from the moment we met, I felt this strange connection. It’s as though I’ve waited all my life to feel so safe . . . and free. I can’t explain it,” she whispered.

He tilted her chin up, brushed his mouth over hers, and then whispered, “Then trust me. That’s my rule. You have to trust me.”

She thought she understood what he was asking. And he was right. Love and trust went hand in hand.

It was now or never. Please, God, don’t let him be repulsed. She stepped back into the soft light from the bedside lamp, waited until he had let go of her, and then, before her courage completely deserted her, she pulled the T-shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor. She turned so that he could see her ravaged back.

Most of the damage had been done to her lower spine. The angry, ugly scars puckered her skin. She was afraid to turn around, to look into his eyes.

“Sugar?”

There was laughter in his voice. Confused by his reaction, she stood as stiff as a corpse with her hands at her sides staring at the wall.

“Yes?” she whispered.

He put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m a little more interested in the front right now.”

“What . . .”

He gently turned her around and pulled her up against him. Her soft br**sts pressed against his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut and whispered, “Damn, I’ve been dreaming about this. It’s better than the dream, though. Much better.”

“But my back . . . You saw . . .”

“We’ll get to that,” he promised. “I’ve got a lot of territory to cover,” he whispered as he kissed a tear away from her cheek. “But in my present condition, I’ve gotta prioritize.”

Before she could argue, or worry, or cry, his mouth took absolute possession of hers in a kiss that was sinfully carnal. His tongue slid in and out of her mouth in a ritual of lovemaking until she was trembling with desire.

His hands were everywhere, caressing, stroking, teasing, as his mouth slanted over hers again and again. He rid her of her inhibitions, and she eagerly kissed him back. She stroked his chest, loving the feel of his coarse, dark hair under her fingertips.

He growled low in his throat with pleasure when she tweaked one of his ni**les between her fingertips, and so she did it again.

They were both panting for breath when he ended the kiss and stepped back. He let his shorts drop to the floor, staring into her eyes, reveling in the passion he saw there.

Avery held his gaze as she slid her hand down to remove her panties. The look of surprise when she realized they were on the floor made him smile over his handiwork.

She let him have his moment. “You’re good,” she whispered shakily.

He followed her onto the bed. Bracing his arms on either side of her, he leaned up and said, “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

His face was taut with passion. The way he was looking at her made her feel bold. “Neither have you,” she whispered back. She moved restlessly against him, her hands slowly easing down his sides. His body was as hot as his gaze.

John Paul loved the way she touched him. Hell, he loved everything about her. She made him crazy. She pulled him down for another kiss, and this time he let her be the aggressor. Their tongues dueled as their hands learned the secrets of each other’s bodies.

When she touched his erection, he thought he might just lose it then and there, and he tried to get her to stop, but she wouldn’t. He could barely breathe because of the ecstasy she evoked. His hand slipped down between her thighs, his fingers caressing her intimately until she arched off the bed and cried out.

He held off as long as he could until he was desperate to be inside of her. He hungrily kissed her soft, sweet mouth as his knee nudged her thighs apart. Gripping her derriere, he leaned up so that he could watch her. In one slow push, he entered her, then plunged deep.

She arched up against him at the same time, crying out in rapture as she wrapped her legs around his thighs and squeezed him tight.

Capturing the sides of her face with his hands, his mouth covered hers and his tongue sank into her warm sweet mouth. He took his time. Long, slow thrusts that cost him dearly. Beads of perspiration covered his brow, and as he made love to her, he realized it had never been this incredible before. Never.

Avery was overwhelmed by the sensations rushing through her. They were so intense, so new. She couldn’t let him slow the pace any longer. She came undone in his arms, wild, more demanding, her nails scoring his shoulders as she met his thrusts with equal passion.

Driven to please her and give her fulfillment before he claimed his own, he tried to slow down, but she would have none of it. Their lovemaking turned uncontrolled, primitive, almost savage. He was consumed.

Avery could feel her control vanishing, but she wasn’t afraid. It was the most amazing feeling to be so uninhibited and to let herself go without fear or worry. She knew she was safe in his arms, and as she reached the precipice and her body began to shiver for release, she arched up against him. Wave after wave of undiluted pleasure coursed through her body as she clung to him.

Impossible to hold back, his orgasm was triggered by hers, and he cl**axed deep inside of her, clenching his jaw in ecstasy.

They stayed joined together as one for long, blissful minutes. Their breathing was ragged, and neither one of them had the strength to move. Their hearts pounded in unison. He buried his face in her silky hair, closed his eyes as he inhaled her wonderful fragrance.

“Damn,” he whispered. She’d taken every ounce of his strength. His bones felt like liquid as he tried to move so he wouldn’t crush her.

She obviously didn’t mind his weight because she squeezed him when he shifted his position, and whispered, “Not yet.”

Had he been too rough with her? The thought popped into his head and anchored there. He could have been more gentle, but she’d been so wonderfully uninhibited, he’d gone a little crazy.

“Avery? You okay?”

She smiled because of the worry she heard in his voice. And then she whispered, “So that’s what all the fuss was about.”

And then she laughed with such delight, he smiled in spite of his exhaustion.

With a sigh, he rolled away, then got up and went into the bathroom.

She pulled the sheet up, adjusted her pillow, and fell back. She was still a little overwhelmed by what she had just experienced. Sex, she decided, sex with John Paul anyway, could definitely become addictive.

The bed springs groaned when John Paul stretched out beside her. She opened her eyes and smiled. He looked so arrogantly proud of himself. He was on his side with his head propped up staring at her.

She looked thoroughly ravaged. Passion lingered in her eyes, and her lips were swollen from his kisses.

She knew she’d satisfied him, but she still needed him to tell her so. Silly how she could feel so powerful a minute ago and now the old insecurities were creeping back. No, she hadn’t disappointed him. Why wasn’t he telling her so?

He could see it happening. In her eyes. They were clouded. He didn’t think she was regretting anything . . . just worried maybe.

He knew he’d guessed right when she said, “What are you thinking?”

He tugged on the sheet, pulling it down to the tips of her breasts. She pulled it back up.

“Bet I can get this off you faster than a prom dress,” he drawled.

“Oh, brother. You’re pretty happy with yourself right now, aren’t you?”

“Damn right I am,” he said as he leaned down and kissed her. His tongue slipped inside and tickled the roof of her mouth. When he pulled back, she was breathless. But then, so was he.

Oh, how she loved this man. He was so completely perfect for her. She reached up to brush his hair off his forehead, an excuse to keep touching him. She couldn’t seem to get enough.

“‘Heavens to Betsy’?” he drawled. “That’s what you said, sugar, when you were coming apart in my arms. Actually, you screamed it.”

She laughed. “I did not.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“I know what you shouted, but I’m not going to repeat it.”

His grin was lecherous. “Guess what.”

Her fingers trailed down the muscled cord on the side of his neck, then crossed his shoulder. She gently traced it with her fingertips.

“What?” she asked lazily.

“Prom dress is gone.”

Startled, she lifted her head and looked down. The sheet was around her ankles. “You are good.”

He leaned down and kissed each breast. His fingers slowly circled her navel. A jagged scar crisscrossed the lower part of her abdomen. The raised, puckered center indicated a bullet had done the damage. Probably a .38, he thought. Or maybe a .45.

Damn, it was a miracle she had survived. He leaned forward and took his time kissing every inch of her stomach, smiling as she inhaled sharply. He rolled back on his side so he could watch her face as his hand slid down into her soft curls.

Avery was having trouble catching her breath. “Do you want . . .”

“Oh, yeah. I want.”

Moaning softly, she moved restlessly against him, her toes rubbing his lower legs.

She tried to touch him, but he grabbed her hand. “Relax, sugar. Let me . . .”

It was as far as he got. She was surprisingly strong. And bold. She pushed him onto his back and leaned over him. “Relax? I don’t think so, John Paul. This is a team sport, isn’t it?”

He couldn’t answer her. Her hands had captured his arousal, and she was slowly driving him wild with her caresses.

“And . . .” she whispered as she straddled his h*ps and kissed him passionately.

“And what?” he asked, his voice as coarse as sandpaper.

Her eyes sparkled when she answered. “I’m definitely a team player.”

Chapter 31

THE MAN WAS INSATIABLE. AVERY WOKE UP AT NOON. SHE didn’t usually sleep so late, but John Paul hadn’t let her get much rest during the night.

She was on her stomach with one arm hanging over the side of the bed. He was tickling her back. His fingers were as light as feathers. Was he trying to drive her crazy, or was he being so very gentle because of her scars?

Oh, God, her scars. Even Carrie, who loved her like a mother, couldn’t stop herself from grimacing when she looked at her.

“You awake yet?” he asked. “Avery?”

She didn’t say good morning. She blurted, “What do you think?”

“About what?’

“My back.”

“Can you handle the truth?”

Uh-oh. She didn’t like his tone one bit. She could feel her defenses building inside her. “Yes, I can handle it,” she said tightly. “What are you thinking about?”

“Your sweet little ass.”

She rolled over and looked up at him.

“It’s the first thing I noticed about you when you came strutting inside the lobby of that spa.”

Smiling, she said, “I didn’t strut.”

“Sure you did.”

“You’re a pervert.”

“You’re a liberal. I figure that makes us even. About the scars . . .”

She was still smiling when she asked, “Yes?”

“They’re just scars. They don’t define who you are. Now get up. Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes. Move it,” he said as he rolled off the bed.

He was stark na*ed and seemed thoroughly happy about it. He was gorgeous. All muscle and male.

“Put some clothes on for Pete’s sake.”

“Why?”

“Do you go around like that in the swamp?”

“I wish I could, but I can’t, not with the gators and snakes.”

He grabbed his jeans from the chair and went into the living room. Avery took a quick shower and put on a pair of navy shorts and a pale yellow blouse. Her hair was tucked behind her ears when she padded barefoot into the living room.

John Paul went into the kitchen to fix her plate and placed it in front of her. Then he handed her a bottle of Tabasco sauce.

He’d prepared scrambled eggs with lots of pepper. She took a bite and quickly washed it down with orange juice.

“You like spicy food,” she said, smiling.

“In Louisiana, spicy food is a way of life.”

“What was it like growing up in Bowen with a father everyone in town calls Big Daddy Jake?”

“Interesting,” he answered. “My dad’s quite a character, always got something going, if you know what I mean. He’s a bit of a con, but he’s got a good heart.”

He told her a couple of funny stories about the mischief that he and his brother, Remy, got into when they were boys. He mentioned his father and his younger sister often, and each time, she noticed, his voice softened.

“Mike’s as bossy as you are.” His smile indicated he thought that was a good thing. “She’s a surgeon,” he added proudly. “Her name’s Michelle, but everyone calls her Mike, everyone but her husband. They’re expecting their first baby in September.”

“Theo,” Avery said. “She’s married to Theo, and he’s an attorney with Justice.”

“That’s right.”

He told her another story while she ate her breakfast, and then she helped him do the dishes.

“It rained hard early this morning. Thunder shook the rafters.”

“I didn’t hear a thing.”

“I wore you out.”