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Authors: Samanthe Beck
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time, distance, and immersion into civilian life would eventually ease the sleep problems, and recommended medication and therapy to help bridge the journey. She’d called the insomnia and nightmares part of a transition cycle. Shaun called it yet another reason to listen to his inner voice.
Six a.m. the next morning, riding on fumes, Shaun made a left turn into the driveway behind the Gas ’n Go and slammed on his brakes to avoid hitting a blur of blue and white cutting across the alley. The blur stopped in front of his bumper, turned to him, and their eyes locked.
Sweet Virginia, out for a morning run. Sweaty, out-of-breath, wide-eyed Virginia, looking like she didn’t know whether to give him a piece of her mind or pretend he didn’t exist. Their final exchange last night after the deputies had left replayed in his memory.
You deliberately didn’t give me your last name because you knew I wouldn’t have touched you if I’d known who you were.
Sweetheart, you’re fooling yourself if you really believe knowing my name would have changed any aspect of last night.
It changes everything moving forward. There will be no repeats. In fact, it would be best for both of us if we never set eyes on each other again.
The rational, risk-mitigating part of him agreed, because every time he saw her, he wanted her, on a primitive, bone-deep level. Unfortunately, this morning already proved avoiding anyone in a town the size of Bluelick was damn near impossible…even for a man trained to disappear.
Do not engage .
He kicked the e-brake, turned off the engine, and stepped out of the Jeep. She stood there like a deer in headlights.
Body on autopilot, attention glued to her—because he felt certain she’d vanish if he so much as blinked—he closed the distance between them. When he was close enough to see the black striations in her stunning green eyes, he said, “What are you thinking, cutting through an alley at dawn?”
“I was thinking, for once, I might manage to cross a street without getting run down by a Buchanan. What kind of maniac drives into an alley like a bat out of hell?”
She was trying to sound pissed, and she didn’t lay a finger on him, which, for her, he’d already pieced together, definitely signified temper, but her eyes kept straying from his to wander down his body, and each time they came back she was breathing a little bit harder.
Apparently that was all the encouragement he needed. The controlled, disciplined side of him surrendered and the reckless side took control. He wrapped his fingers around her bare biceps and tugged her around the side of the gas station. The restroom door hung open. He shoved her inside, followed, and locked the door behind him. The smell of pine cleaner and liquid soap competed with the scent of her overheated skin. When he turned around, her lips were wet and parted, her sweet little nipples straining against the form-fitting fabric of her workout top, and her eyes shooting fire.
“Shaun Buchanan, you are so close to getting your face slapped. Do you honestly expect me to—?”
Yeah, maybe he was delusional from lack of sleep, but he did. He slammed his mouth down on hers and hauled her up against him. The toes of her running shoes scored the tile floor until he got his hands under her ass and lifted her off her feet. She wrapped her legs around his waist, fisted her hands in the front of his shirt and sucked his tongue into her mouth, which sent a rush of blood straight to his already swollen cock.
He broke away long enough to make sure they were in agreement, because he might persuade by any means necessary, but he’d never force. “I’m full of expectations. I expect you to let me peel those thin, tight, and very damp shorts down your legs. I expect you to give my mouth and tongue and hands free reign until you’re biting your lip to keep from begging for more. And when I give you more, I expect you to scream my name in gratitude. If you feel the
Six a.m. the next morning, riding on fumes, Shaun made a left turn into the driveway behind the Gas ’n Go and slammed on his brakes to avoid hitting a blur of blue and white cutting across the alley. The blur stopped in front of his bumper, turned to him, and their eyes locked.
Sweet Virginia, out for a morning run. Sweaty, out-of-breath, wide-eyed Virginia, looking like she didn’t know whether to give him a piece of her mind or pretend he didn’t exist. Their final exchange last night after the deputies had left replayed in his memory.
You deliberately didn’t give me your last name because you knew I wouldn’t have touched you if I’d known who you were.
Sweetheart, you’re fooling yourself if you really believe knowing my name would have changed any aspect of last night.
It changes everything moving forward. There will be no repeats. In fact, it would be best for both of us if we never set eyes on each other again.
The rational, risk-mitigating part of him agreed, because every time he saw her, he wanted her, on a primitive, bone-deep level. Unfortunately, this morning already proved avoiding anyone in a town the size of Bluelick was damn near impossible…even for a man trained to disappear.
Do not engage .
He kicked the e-brake, turned off the engine, and stepped out of the Jeep. She stood there like a deer in headlights.
Body on autopilot, attention glued to her—because he felt certain she’d vanish if he so much as blinked—he closed the distance between them. When he was close enough to see the black striations in her stunning green eyes, he said, “What are you thinking, cutting through an alley at dawn?”
“I was thinking, for once, I might manage to cross a street without getting run down by a Buchanan. What kind of maniac drives into an alley like a bat out of hell?”
She was trying to sound pissed, and she didn’t lay a finger on him, which, for her, he’d already pieced together, definitely signified temper, but her eyes kept straying from his to wander down his body, and each time they came back she was breathing a little bit harder.
Apparently that was all the encouragement he needed. The controlled, disciplined side of him surrendered and the reckless side took control. He wrapped his fingers around her bare biceps and tugged her around the side of the gas station. The restroom door hung open. He shoved her inside, followed, and locked the door behind him. The smell of pine cleaner and liquid soap competed with the scent of her overheated skin. When he turned around, her lips were wet and parted, her sweet little nipples straining against the form-fitting fabric of her workout top, and her eyes shooting fire.
“Shaun Buchanan, you are so close to getting your face slapped. Do you honestly expect me to—?”
Yeah, maybe he was delusional from lack of sleep, but he did. He slammed his mouth down on hers and hauled her up against him. The toes of her running shoes scored the tile floor until he got his hands under her ass and lifted her off her feet. She wrapped her legs around his waist, fisted her hands in the front of his shirt and sucked his tongue into her mouth, which sent a rush of blood straight to his already swollen cock.
He broke away long enough to make sure they were in agreement, because he might persuade by any means necessary, but he’d never force. “I’m full of expectations. I expect you to let me peel those thin, tight, and very damp shorts down your legs. I expect you to give my mouth and tongue and hands free reign until you’re biting your lip to keep from begging for more. And when I give you more, I expect you to scream my name in gratitude. If you feel the
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