Sly Like a Fox

SLY LIKE A FOX

Raven Fyre

EROTIC ROMANCE

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000." If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at [email protected]

A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK IMPRINT: Erotic Romance SLY LIKE A FOX Copyright © 2010 by Raven Fyre E-book ISBN: 1-60601-710-1 First E-book Publication: January 2010 Cover design by Jinger Heaston All cover art and logo copyright © 2010 by Siren Publishing, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers Dear Readers, If you have purchased this copy of Sly Like a Fox directly from the BookStrand.com website, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing a copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book. The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment. Please respect Raven Fyre’s right to earn a living from her work. It's fair and simple. If Ms. Fyre can provide for her family with her writing, she can create more books for your reading pleasure. Sincerely, Amanda Hilton, Publisher www.SirenPublishing.com www.BookStrand.com

DEDICATION To my very own Navy man for always knowing me better than I know myself, for always believing in me, for the endless nights of sleeping by the light of the laptop, and for loving me in spite of it all. To my sister, who never fails to share the joy or to understand the heartache. Thanks for allowing me to bombard you with both! And to my blessed children, who keep me grounded even while stirring up chaos, and who never cease to amaze me—or to inspire me. Boo-yah, baby!

SLY LIKE A FOX RAVEN FYRE Copyright © 2010

Chapter 1 Dodging a puddle here and there as moonlight bounced on its surface, Chris Gannon jogged toward the light. The beacon of welcome filtered a glittery gold through the evening’s downpour. Bounding up the narrow trio of stone steps, he reached the cover of the narrow white awning and the cottage’s side door. He lifted his hand to knock, but the motion became moot. The door opened, and a gust of humid wind chose that moment to shove through the house, nearly knocking Emmaline Dupree off her feet. But she was sturdier than she looked, with her slight build not reaching a full five feet six inches. Holding firm, she spoke above the torrent of rain and wind while motioning the rather soaked, larger-than-life man, inside. “Mr. Fox?” “Miss Dupree?” “Emma.” On a trilling laugh that punched him straight in the gut, the petite brunette offered, “Just Emma will do. Lord, what a night! Some greeting it is but welcome to Pheasant Lake.” Yes, indeed, what a greeting, he mused while taking in the surroundings of the mudroom. Even in the dimly lit space, there was no way to overlook the fresh-faced beauty of the woman. She was a dreamlike vision of female form. Even covered in what seemed to be yards and yards of fabric that he guessed she called a

8

Raven Fyre

nightgown, this ethereal creature was impossibly sexy. And had his blood stirring. There was something stirring in the air, Fox thought, as well. An intangible force, charged with something elemental, something electric, seemed to crackle around them, something that had nothing at all to do with the warm summer storm brewing in the night skies. “I, ah, well, hell,” he muttered. The woman had him stammering. Must be those big green eyes, or the forest of sable lashes. And that bow of a luscious mouth. Could be the creamy skin, and oh, yes, he did have a thing for brunettes. Emma’s hair was a gloriously thick river of cocoa waves that fell well past her shoulders, hair for wrapping around a man’s hands, for tugging back and exposing that graceful line of sensitive flesh where a man could press his lips and feel her pulse running along the slender column. Jesus! Stammering? That was a hell of a first. “When Charlie said to see Miss Emmaline about a room, I had you pegged for some sweet, little old lady.” She laughed again, a deep, genuine laugh that was headier than the first, and this time, the sound grabbed him by the throat. “Oh, Charlie’s a charmer, always calling me Miss Emmaline real properlike. I was named after my grandmother Emma, and she was a sweet little lady. I took over the cottage and the business when she passed on.” Reaching for his duffel, she offered, “Why don’t I show you to your room?” He held the handles firmly, refusing to let her carry his bag. “I don’t expect you to wait on me, Emma.” “Well, it’s part of my job as hostess of Pheasant Lake Cottage, Mr. Fox.” She shrugged. “But suit yourself.” Oh, how he’d like to. Although there was nothing sexy about the prudish gown that practically covered her body from neck to ankle,

Sly Like a Fox

9

his cock was swelling at the notion of uncovering what secrets lie beneath. What a present that would be. “Chris. Christopher Gannon. Charlie insists on calling me Fox, from our SEAL team days together. Foxtrot was always my call sign for a mission, and it just stuck.” “Just Fox, then.” She ran her tongue over the line of her pearly whites. “It suits you, I think.” **** Sexy. Sly. Yes, Emma decided, Fox suited him all right. He was every woman’s fantasy of bad-boy, bad-ass material. Prime, rugged, raw male. Dangerous eyes, eyes the color of smoke, that mesmerized her with their intensity. Sensual, sculpted lips, strong jaw, slightly aquiline nose. Had the bad boy, perhaps, pulled a few punches? Oh, yes, she could see that. Shaved head. God, who knew a perfectly sculpted, smooth head could be sexy? She wanted to rub her hands all over it, all over him. The sun-kissed skin only made him seem like more of a mythical god. The Greeks had nothing on Fox Gannon. The total package was making her weak. Hell, it was making her wet. He was a far cry from the men she usually dated. Of course, he wasn’t looking for a date, just a room for a few days, maybe a week, while visiting with Charlie. And neither was she, Emma reminded. In her rather limited experience, men were needy creatures, and sex, well, sex was highly overrated. She needed, nor wanted either. Still, there was something about this man in particular, but she’d yet to put her finger on it.

10

Raven Fyre

Oh, yes, she’d been watching from the window, waiting, as he’d unfolded his six-foot-forever frame from the cab of that massive pickup, Emma reflected. And guessed he would have been more at home on a Harley. His rain-soaked T-shirt was molded over that luscious hard body. Those wide shoulders, the lean muscles of his forearms, and the rippling abs—they were damn fine distractions, even covered. “Do you mind?” Fox asked, motioning to his shirt. They were in the mudroom after all, and he was dripping rain all over her gleaming wood floors. “Oh, no. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Just toss it over the washer and I’ll…ah—” She swallowed hard as he shucked the wet shirt and revealed the long, lean lines of him, the carved muscles of his chest, all that bronze skin. Smooth, hairless skin. The toned bulge of his left forearm was circled in a sexy barbed wire tat that had her licking her lips. “I’ll get it washed for you,” she finally said. The room suddenly seemed awfully small since he’d shucked his shirt. And how ridiculous was that? As ridiculous as the little hum that had started to stir in her blood, Emma decided. And the way she had to swallow hard just looking at him. To say nothing of the fluttering that had begun in her center. “Thanks.” He toed off his boots and peeled out of his socks before tossing them aside with his wet shirt. Dear God, if he expected her to just stand around and watch him strip out of his jeans—well, she’d end up on the floor, melted into a puddle of hot lust. The temperature in the room had risen at least a solid ten degrees just since he’d rushed in the door. Hadn’t it? ****

Sly Like a Fox

11

The woman wasn’t just watching him, Fox thought smugly. She was devouring him with her eyes. If she thought him oblivious, she was either a fool or an innocent. But neither seemed to fit. Late twenties, if he had to guess, but then women were harder to peg than men were. The beauty, her friendly manner, a successful businesswoman. No, Emma Dupree was no fool, and unless the men in Owl’s Run were the fools, she was no innocent. He was pushing his luck, but then the hell if he cared. Pushing the envelope was only one of his specialties. Holding her gaze, he reached for the fly of his jeans. Emma clutched the fabric at her neckline. Fox caught the flush spreading over her skin, staining her throat and cheeks as she blushed and imagined the rosy shade covering every inch of her entire, lovely body with the rush of an orgasm. God, how he’d love to rip that prudish nightgown to shreds. **** Her skin was on fire, and it wasn’t just the blush. Damning her traitorous body, Emma felt helpless and hated it. There was no controlling the lava-like heat that pooled in her center. Nothing at all to be done about the contractions of her inner walls, or her slick, hot dripping slit. The V of silk between her thighs was already damp. She had to put his tempting body from her mind. There were bigger issues at the moment than being attracted to a stranger. Like ensuring his confidence. After all, life as she knew it, her existence in Owl’s Run, depended on his promise of discretion. “Have you eaten?” She was grateful that her voice sounded much more calm than she felt. “There’s leftover baked—” “I’m good,” Fox quickly replied.

12

Raven Fyre

“Great. Well, let’s get you in bed then.” The blush deepened. Shit. What was wrong with her? “Your room. Let’s get you in your room.” Turning, she fled the mudroom as if her hem had caught fire. Fox grabbed for his clothes, sort of hopping into one leg and then the other while trying to keep up with her as she all but flew up the back staircase. “Breakfast is from seven to nine, in the main dining room downstairs. Coffee is usually on all hours of the day, and of course, feel free to help yourself to the fridge, the pantry. There’s a more formal staircase off the main hallway here as well.” She gestured with her hand before sweeping open a large paneled door to her left. Emma noted, with a measure of disappointment— which caused her to be further irked with herself—that he’d shrugged on a pair of dry jeans somewhere along the way. At least his chest was still on display. She wanted to laugh, hard and long, thinking of Gina Jenkins, one of her dear friends. When Gina had called, practically begging Emma for the favor of housing Fox, one of her husband Charlie’s Navy buddies, for a few days, she’d called him a damn fine piece of eye candy, likening him to a mix of biker-tough and playboy-material body. And she’d felt certain Gina was exaggerating. Now, if anything, Emma had to admit that Gina’s description hadn’t done the man justice. The suite was spacious, tastefully decorated with warm shades. Masculine. King-size bed with mission style wooden head- and footboards. One paneled door of a large armoire was open, revealing its hidden bounty: flat-screen TV, multidisc DVD player and hightech sound system. There was a private adjoining bath with antique claw-foot tub and separate shower. “I hope you’ll find everything to your satisfaction,” Emma remarked.

Sly Like a Fox

13

After taking down several towels from a narrow closet ensconced in the bathroom, she handed them over. “If you need anything, the phone is wired for in-house service. Simply dial six and it’ll ring in my room just down the hall, as well as in the kitchen downstairs.” **** She stood quite primly, with her fingers interlaced in front of her and a thin smile in place. The picture of the perfect hostess, Fox decided. And damn if he didn’t have the urge to muss her up. There was something bothering her. That was obvious, as she was also biting her lower lip. What would she do if he leaned in and licked that very spot? Fox wondered. “It’s great.” He nodded. “Thanks. Really, the last-minute change of plans, taking pity on one of Charlie’s friends. I really appreciate the trouble.” “About that. I, ah, well, I really need to explain…a few things. And I’m hoping we can keep this strictly between us. A favor for a favor?” Hot damn! Fox had a gut feeling he could make this interesting. And his gut was rarely wrong. “Shoot.” “It’s a rather delicate matter.” Obviously, Fox noted, as it had her blushing again and squirming a bit under his hawk-like, predatory glare. There was no denying, the overtly feminine reaction teased his senses. “Go on,” he coaxed. “Please understand, my reputation, my grandmother’s reputation in Owl’s Run depends on this information staying between us.” He nodded and began unpacking his duffel while she went on. “The reason the cottage is usually closed this month, well, it isn’t exactly because I simply shut down as a rule of having time here to myself.”

14

Raven Fyre

Intrigued, he walked to the corner, picked up the rather large club chair as if it were nothing more than a feather, and brought it closer to the bed. “Sit, Emma,” he insisted. “And stop biting your lip as if you’re terrified of me.” “I’m—you don’t frighten me.” She tipped her chin up haughtily, ignoring his smirk, and sat. “But my standing in Owl’s Run, my family’s history here, means everything to me.” Yes, he could see that it did. After taking a heather gray T from his bag, he pulled it over his head and tugged it down. “Look. Whatever it is, I promise not to tell Charlie or Gina. That’s what you’re worried about, right? So, there you go. You have my word.” Extending his hand, he offered, “We can shake on it, if it makes you feel better.” She studied his hand for what seemed to be a very lengthy span of time before finally shaking her head. “I’ll take your word.” “Suit yourself,” he said, thinking of her words from earlier and adding the matching shrug of shoulders. “Beyond the lake, there’s a separate home, where my parents used to live. Where I grew up. Mostly, it stays closed up, well, because they’ve passed on, and I’m here. There’s a private road in, and only that one way in—or out. So, it’s secluded and well guarded. In fact, there’s a gate complete with keypad and code for restricted access only.” His gut instinct had the tiny hairs on the back of his neck tingling. As if on cue, the shrill of a phone rang out, echoing from her rooms. “Shit. Sorry.” She went to the phone by the bed and punched in a few numbers. “Emma Dupree.” Fox slipped on a pair of dry socks and his spare boots while listening in. “Yes. Certainly. Your preference? Of course, the pleasure is mine. Twenty minutes, tops. Yes. You’re welcome.” She ended the call and explained to Fox, “I’m afraid we’ll need to postpone our discussion. Give me half an hour? You could shower or

Sly Like a Fox

15

flip channels. You’ll find we subscribe to several premium movie channels.” “Not happening, darlin’. It’s dark damn thirty, you’re up to something, and I’m your new shadow.” Obviously flustered, she started to murmur a protest, but he was having none of it. His gut was never wrong. The woman had more going on than she wanted him to know. Hell, she’d been trying to tell him something before the phone call interrupted her. And it was almost eleven. There was no denying the hands of time. “Talk while you walk.” Turning, she huffed out a breath. “Fine, but I have to dress first.” Her rooms were at the end of the hall, to the right. The space was as feminine as the woman herself, in complementary contrast to the more masculine room she’d assigned him, Fox noted. The walls were painted the shade of warm cream and trimmed in a dark, natural cherry wood. An ornate, scrolling iron bed, a queen, was centered on one wall and was covered in a quilt with deeply pink flowers, spring greens, and sprigs of chocolate vines. From a whitewashed lady’s chest of drawers, she took out a pair of jeans. Then from a large, walk-in closet, a lilac blouse. “I’ll just be a few minutes,” Emma informed. **** While Fox sort of lounged against the doorframe, making himself a formidable wall of manly perfection, Emma closed herself up in the large master bath and stripped out of her gown. She twisted the mass of her hair up and secured it with a large silver clip. Out of habit and nothing more, she told herself, she dusted her cheeks with a shimmer of bronzing powder and tipped her long lashes with mascara. Then she added a few swipes of peach gloss to her lips. Just for good measure, Emma tried to convince herself.

16

Raven Fyre

Really. It was nothing more than she’d have done before leaving the house, with or without the gorgeous hunk under her roof. The very gorgeous hunk whose show of strength with moving the chair in her bedroom had sent thrillingly naughty little tingles to her core. Don’t go there, Emma. Oh, but she imagined he was just the sort to toss a woman over his shoulder and carry her off to bed if and when it suited him. God, how she’d dearly love to get her hands on all those yummy muscles. Pulling her thoughts from Fox, she studied her reflection. She’d always been one to care for her appearance. The time of evening or the circumstances were irrelevant to personal pride. But she did add a light spritz of perfume to her wrists and neck. And yes, okay, it had everything to do with the gorgeous hunk under her roof. It had been far too long since she’d given any notion as to what a man might think of her, sexually, but this man in particular made her feel as if there were an unreachable itch deep inside her that only he would be able to scratch. Absurd, perhaps. And shocking, given her lack of interest in that area, to realize just how badly she seemed to want him to scratch it. Chemistry. The universal mystery of men and women. There was no rhyme or reason, really, as to why one attracted while another repelled, but there it was. She was blatantly attracted to Fox, who was really Chris, Gannon. Why not test the waters? It certainly wasn’t as if she had anything keeping her from taking a dip. More to the point, no one was. A quick fling with a relative stranger wasn’t within her usual parameter of acceptable behavior, but then she already knew more about him than some of the men she’d been out with. Charlie trusted him with his ass, as he’d saved it several times—if the stories he loved to relate were indeed true. After Fox’s display of strength with the chair, and admiring his physique firsthand, she tended to believe they were true.

Sly Like a Fox

17

She calculated that Fox had to be mid- to late thirties, a man who would have enough experiences under his belt to know his own mind, know how to use it. His truck was a newer model, and even in the rain, she’d seen the glossy paint, the bleach-white sidewalls, and the shiny rims. So, he took care of what was his. She suspected he’d take that same care with a woman. One could hope, imagine, and melt while doing so. He’d refused to allow her to carry his bag when she’d offered, and he refused to let their discussion drop when this had come up. She’d say she’d stirred his protective nature, all those basic manly urges. Seeing that he had them, that he wasn’t afraid to exert them, made her insides mush even more. The list was adding up in Fox’s favor. So, she stepped from the bathroom hoping to gauge his reaction to her somewhat revealed body. She knew good and damn well the nightgown made her look maidenly, but she’d been going for comfort, not seduction. Ha! Did she even possess such skills?

18

Raven Fyre

Chapter 2 Fox nearly swallowed his tongue as Emma sauntered out from the bath. Arousal pinballed around in his system, causing his nipples to harden as it ricocheted up, then sending out little jolts as it squiggled back down through his abs to land in the sweet spot at the base of his cock. The jeans she’d tugged on were tight without being indecent and showcased a lovely set of shapely hips and a beautifully molded ass, slender legs. As to the blouse, the cut was loose, cinching at the waist with a wide, doubled knot that tied at the hip. The square neckline showed off more of that smooth skin, and ah, yes, high, lush tits. He could almost feel them filling his palms while he pleasured the pouting, rosy nipples by rubbing them. There was nothing he would have liked better, in that moment, to watch those lovely green eyes go blind from the pleasure of his hands on her sweet, little body. A man couldn’t help but wonder what erotic, breathless sounds she might make when that pleasure peaked, burst. Why did he have the feeling that just hearing her name fall from his lips on a whispered sight could make him weak? No woman had ever made him weak. Emma eyed him warily while slipping into a pair of sandals, then adding a pair of silver hoops to her earlobes. Because he desperately wanted to rip that damned clip out of her hair and watch the river of dark waves cascade down again, he shoved his greedy hands in his pockets. “You, Miss Emmaline, are one very beautiful woman. Why on earth were you hiding that lush, little body under that damned prim gown?”

Sly Like a Fox

19

A flash of appreciation sparkled in her emerald eyes. **** Beautiful? Fox thought she was beautiful. Now why did that make her knees turn weak as water? “I suppose you’d have me believe you run around the house in nothing more than those sexy boxer briefs?” Oh, yes, she’d noticed the cut and the dark color, despite her efforts to avert her gaze. Her imagination had been running wild ever since she’d glanced, and glanced only. “If I were lounging at home, I’d most likely be in my favorite gray sweats.” Fox grinned. “If I were headed to bed, however, you’d have caught me in the buff.” Naked? He slept naked? It shouldn’t have surprised her. It didn’t. Not really. What it did was mess with her sanity. Dear Lord, she’d never be able to sleep just down the hall knowing he was naked. She blushed again, and inwardly groaned just imagining the heat washing over her cheeks and staining them a bright shade of pink. “God, that’s sexy.” Surely, he’s teasing. The man had her insides so turned around that she wondered which way was up. Her palms flew to her cheeks. More to herself than to him, she chided, “You’d think I’d never seen a naked man before.” A deep chuckle rumbled up from his gut. “Maybe you just haven’t found what you’re looking for.” His arrogance was as sexy as the rest of him, but she wasn’t about to gift him by acknowledging it. She had the feeling that he was the sort to manipulate the most miniscule bits of information to his advantage, to make a woman weak with desire, and then exploit that very weakness toward his ultimate gain.

20

Raven Fyre

Come to think of it, maybe he would be far better between the sheets than any of the men she’d ever danced with. Not that there’d been all that many. She wasn’t a prude so much as she was selective. It paid to be prudent, living in a town the size of Owl’s Run. Small town. Smaller circles when the ripples of rumors began to spread. Sadly, so far, that particular tactic hadn’t worked in her favor. Perhaps, she should reconsider her strategy, try a new method of dealing with the opposite sex and, well, sex. “I’m not looking for anything, Fox. More to the point, I don’t have time for anything. In fact, I’ve got to get a move on or my guests will be inconvenienced.” And that, for the efficient Emmaline Dupree, would never do. **** Her statement struck a chord within Fox that he’d left ignored until now. The house was empty. There was just the two of them. Although, subconsciously, he’d known, he’d basically disregarded it. Now, he felt it. Now, it was as tangible as the fist of lust gripping his cock. At first, he’d been too surprised to find the lovely woman who’d opened the door to let him into her home. The lovely young woman and not the elderly, grandmotherly image his mind had conjured of Miss Emmaline Dupree. But it sank in now that they had the whole, empty cottage to themselves. That could make things damn complicated. Or damned interesting. “Guests, Emma? Aren’t we alone here?” “The cottage, yes. It’s vacant at the moment, actually for another couple weeks, except for us.” Fox followed her back downstairs and into the kitchen.

Sly Like a Fox

21

Growing up in an apartment with a single mother who worked with the tenacity of two, Fox had never understood the concept of the kitchen being the heart of the home. But here, it was very much the beating, flowing hub of the cottage. Cheerful, buttery walls with gleaming wood floors and countertops. Sparkling white cabinetry, with scrolling, hand-carved accents, brushed nickel hinges and knobs. Tidily organized to be functional as well as aesthetically pleasing. Emma moved fluidly through the space, gathering a tray, removing items from the large, stainless steel fridge, arranging everything just so. Tidy. Economical movements. That’s how he saw her—practical and organized without a wasted breath or action. She simply flowed within the space she’d created. She’d have been a hell of an asset, working covert ops. This, he thought, studying the space and the woman more thoroughly, is exactly what he’d always wanted. What he hadn’t had as a child. What he fully intended for his children. For that proverbial One Day. Even a man of his background could appreciate the stability, the bedrock of having a woman to come home to, to share the burdens with, to build a home, a family with. The right woman. Some might say it was the whole notion of wanting the unknown, wanting what he could never have, but Fox knew himself well enough to realize that it was more than a passing fancy to experience something new. His entire adult life had been focused on career, service, commitment to his country, to the man at his side depending on him and on whom he could depend. He’d always known this could be at the end of the road, that this was what he wanted. Home. Hearth. Security. Fidelity. But in truth, he’d expected it to come sooner.

22

Raven Fyre

Maybe even to have it lure him out of his secretive, dangerous life long before now. Not on a bet would he have believed that he’d be staring at thirtyfour and still find himself single. Solitary to the point of not even being in a serious, committed relationship, with the possibility of something more permanent. But then, he’d been waiting for the right woman. Waiting. Investing. Planning for the future. With the one woman he couldn’t live without. Cliché, perhaps, but true. He wondered, maybe more than he should, just what Emmaline Dupree might be waiting for. “Would you care for coffee? I can put on a fresh pot.” Now, why did he suddenly feel offended that she was using her pleasantly pleasing hostess tone with him? “No. Tell what I can do to help.” She shook her head. “You’re a guest. I’ll not have you—” “Damn it, Emma. Don’t use that tone with me. We both know I’m not going to sit around watching you work.” Pausing, she eyed him warily. Whatever war was waging behind those mesmerizing green eyes, Fox decided that she either claimed victory or recognized a stubborn male when she saw him and waved the white flag. “Fine. There’s a new bottle of chocolate syrup in the pantry there.” She motioned toward the walk-in. “Top shelf. Oh, and grab a new jar of cherries, would you, please? Third to the left. Make sure they’ve stems.” “Banana splits?” he ventured. “You don’t want to know. Hell, I don’t want to know, but my imagination is pretty damn good. How’s yours?” Thankfully, he’d yet to pick up the jar of cherries, or they’d have shattered all over her pretty floors. As it was, he bobbled the bottle of syrup. “Shit.”

Sly Like a Fox

23

A soft, laugh bubbled up from her, and the melody carried to him, had him grinning as he walked back in. “These guests…” “Come two weeks out of every year, even in my grandmother Emma’s days.” That shot his eyebrows up. “The house is exclusively theirs. They bring their own, private wait-staff. However, whenever they require food or…whatever, above and beyond what I keep stocked—and believe me they send a list well in advance—they call, day or night, and I deliver.” To the tray, she added bowls of berries in every color and flavor she’d had on hand—raspberries, strawberries, blueberries. Other containers were filled with cool, whipped cream, cream cheese, a raspberry glaze. “Ever join them?” Instead of the blush he expected, she shot him a mischievous grin and admitted with a whisper, “No. But I’ve watched.” At that, his head fell back and he shook with laughter. Tears dotted the corners of his eyes. “Oh, Emma. That’s…oh, sweetheart, that’s fucking priceless.” She elbowed him in the ribs and was rewarded with a grunt. He tried to sober, unsuccessfully, and laughed again. “Do they know?” “Jesus, Fox! I wouldn’t spy on my guests. There certainly aren’t any cameras hidden in your room, so you needn’t worry.” “Who says I’m worried?” He arched one dark brow and traced the line of her jaw with his thumb. Her eyes grew wide, unblinking. Her voice held a lilt of humor as she challenged him. “Right. Of course. No doubt, you’d probably get a kick out of it.” “Voyeurism?” His smile took on a wicked edge at the thought. “I’ve been known to walk on the wild side when it comes to sex, dabble in what some would call kinky. ’Course, people’s definition of what is or isn’t appropriate in the bedroom tends to vary as much as their personalities. But watching other people get down and dirty? Besides the usual DVD rental or a favorite Internet site? No, honestly,

24

Raven Fyre

that’s one I haven’t tried, but I like to think of myself as an openminded guy.” “Well, it was only once,” she clarified. “And?” Sensing her hesitation, he coaxed her. “Come on, Emma. Toss off your embarrassment, and just be honest. We’re adults.” Never one to pass on temptation, he tried to sneak a berry from the tray and grinned when she popped him on the hand like a naughty schoolboy. “I’m a big fan of sex, by the way. Slow, easy, savoring is good. Hot, sweaty, all-out fuck-me sex is great, but when you’re comfortable enough with one another to really talk dirty, or even toss in a little kink, then, it’s just outright phenomenal.” Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. “Pick your jaw up, darlin’, before the flies swoop in.” As she did, her teeth clicked together. She shook her head as if doing so might actually jumpstart the wheels in her mind. “Well. Ah…well.” “Why do I get the feeling sex rates about a one on your scale of pleasurable experiences? Right after having bamboo shoots shoved up your veins?” Something flickered in her eyes, darkening them as her shoulders snapped to a rigid stance. Telltale signs, confirmation, to Fox’s way of thinking. “This discussion,” she said primly, “is over.” Carrying the tray, she walked out of the kitchen and back through the mudroom. “Come if you like, but you have to stay in the car when we get to the house.” “If I like? Sweetheart, there’s no way in hell I’m not going to see this firsthand.” “There isn’t anything to see,” she insisted. The rain had stopped, and she tiptoed over the damp, spongy grass and popped the hatch on her SUV before depositing the tray in the back. “I told you, Fox. I simply drop the tray off in the kitchen and leave. End of story.” “Then when do you watch?”

Sly Like a Fox

25

She rolled her eyes. “It was once. Once,” she stressed. “This one couple did ask me to sit in on a threesome, but the closest I felt comfortable with was being in this little hidden room, above the basement’s master suite. The house has been, ah…modified somewhat since my parents died, and my grandmother filled me in on what she was doing at the cottage on a much smaller scale. We met with the society’s higher members and tried to work together on tailoring the house to their…unique needs.” “Priceless. And no one in town knows? Amazing.” “Discretion is the key. So, now you see why it’s so important to keep this quiet. And the money they drop, for having a haven, for a couple of weeks’ worth of safe, secluded…play. It’s insane. Truly. Which keeps me afloat for the rest of the year, throughout the off season and then some, thank God. So, when they call, no matter the hour, I make sure to jump. I’ve become very adept at smiling sweetly while asking how high, how swiftly? And I hate, hate making them wait.” He was blocking the driver’s door, holding out a palm expectantly. “My car,” she insisted. “I drive.” When he didn’t budge, she crossed her arms under her breasts and waited. Fox simply enjoyed the view of her luscious tits, covered in lilac silk, plumped up front and center. And the way she set her jaw while arching a brow. Determined. Defiant. Sexy. “Control freak,” she snapped. “Bully.” “Keys, Emma.” “Fine.” She handed them over. He smirked. “Good girl.” “Ooh, you…you arrogant…beast!” “Is that the best you can do, sweetheart?” “Would you just stop that? I’m not your sweetheart.” Fire flashed in her eyes as she poked her finger at his chest. “And don’t think just because you could probably bench-press me one-handed that I’m

26

Raven Fyre

gonna kowtow every time you stand there like a damn mountain and make a demand.” “Are we setting ground rules, now, darlin’?” She threw up her hands. “Look, sugar, whatev—” “Too sickeningly sweet, darlin’. Fox. Baby. Honey’s not bad, either. But I think if I had to choose one, besides Fox, it’d be baby, especially imagining it whispering off those pretty little lips of yours, with that sexy, honeyed tone. It makes me think of moonlight and magnolias, having you naked and wet and wrapped around me, begging…” “Jesus! You’re incorrigible. I give up.” She rounded the car and settled into the passenger seat. “And get that shit-eating smirk off your face.” He’d cranked up the engine, adjusted the seat down and back to fit his much longer legs, and was nosing through her collection of CDs on the flip side of the visor. “Well, we have pretty diverse tastes in music. Guess we’ll just forgo the radio.” “It’s a short trip, Fox. I’ll wager even you, Military Man Extraordinaire, can manage it without a cadence. Take it easy, curving up the hill. With the rain, there’ll be a few deep ruts the closer we get to the gates.” “Yes, ma’am.” “Now he listens.” She huffed back into the seat, stared out the side window, then shot him a glance. “Did I mention arrogant?” “You did.” “Pigheaded. Stubborn.” “One in the same, sweetheart.” “When do you leave?” “I’m thinking I might just stay a while.” He scrubbed a hand over his chin, contemplating. “A good, long while. Maybe even scout out the local real estate market, see what’s available. Do I get squatter’s rights on the room?”

Sly Like a Fox

27

A sleek, feline smile curved her lips. “You know, we never discussed your rate. Come to think of it, I should run your credit card as soon as we get back. When you see the bill, you just may try to skip town.” He waggled a finger. “We’re partners in crime now, Emma. You don’t want it to slip that you run a sex club… kinky harem…fuck if I know what to call it.” “It’s a BDSM society. They’re into sharing their partners. Orgies. Bondage. Domination. Confidentially, of course, I called an attorney and had him draw up a waiver of responsibility. If their...fun happens to get out of hand and someone gets hurt, well, I can’t afford to have them sue my ass for damages.” Smart. “Domination? Bondage? Shit. The heavy stuff or silk scarves and feather dusters?” “Why am I even surprised you would ask? Follow this path to the left, then stay straight. Both, I guess. Riding crops, leather collars. One couple even has this chair specially delivered…I don’t even want to know what they do with it, but it’s rather wicked looking. It has restraints, chains.” “Tell me you aren’t turn on.” His brows shot up, wiggled. “Even just a little?” “The really hardcore stuff? No. In fact, some of it’s downright frightening to think of.” Her gaze wavered a little. He could see it in his peripheral. Then she carefully focused her attention on the landscape beyond the front windshield. “But the other…well, some of it…” “The lighter side,” he filled in. “Blindfolds. Silky wrist restrains. Feathers teasing and tickling.” Her lids dropped, as did her voice. “Spanking.” “Fuck.” His cock jerked. The wheel under his hand jerked as well, tossing them about for an instant before he regained control of his limbs—and his senses. “Dear God, Emma. My ears are ringing from all the blood that just drained out of my head.”

28

Raven Fyre

One had only to glance at his crotch to know where all that blood had gone. Unwittingly, her gaze fell and locked on the very large bulge that was growing larger by the second. “Fox?” Through clenched teeth, he managed a response. “Yes, Emma?” “Would you like for me to do it?” Do it? What were they, twelve? His foot hit the brakes so abruptly she had to grab the dash. “Was that an offer?” Her eyes popped wide, and she giggled like a naughty child. “The gate, Fox. The code. The keypad. One of us has to get out and punch it in.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Emma, sweetheart, you have my wires so damn fucked up.” Even her scent, something light and pungent—in fact, something close to the raspberries she’d packed for her guests—seemed to infuse the very air he breathed and aroused him further, as if that were humanly possible. Her shoulders shook as her trilling laughter enveloped them. Misery did find it amusing to have company, it seemed. “Poor baby,” she crooned. Shaking his head, he asked for the code. Emma watched as he jogged over to the keypad, punched in the digits, then jogged back after ensuring the gate opened without a hitch. Grateful for the fresh air, he felt doubly punched when he slid back in behind the wheel, and her scent smacked him full in the face again. His attempt to stifle a low, primal growl was fruitless. Her brows arched inquisitively, but she kept her comment confined to directions. “Pull to the right and angle in there. Park it next to the Cedz.” Mercedes, BMWs, a Jag, several Hummers, not a car in sight cost less than forty grand. Fucking amazing, Fox mused. “Kinky with portfolios. Interesting, indeed.”

Sly Like a Fox

29

“Power’s an aphrodisiac for some people, but when you wield it on a daily basis, I suppose, it loses a portion of its potency. Each subsequent thrill then has to be bigger, more grandiose.” “Yeah, I guess I get that.” Holding her door, he waited as she stepped down, then went to the hatch and retrieved the tray. “They won’t take kindly to me treating them as an attraction, Fox. I was serious about you staying in the car.” “I’m not interested in selling tickets, Emma.” He held his palms up in surrender as she glared at him. “Okay. Okay. I’ll be right here, but if you aren’t out in ten, I reserve the right to storm the castle at will.” Castle was close enough, he decided. The house was larger than the cottage, older-style brick, two-story, more spread out over the manicured lawns and bordering flower beds. Pillars and high arched doorways, dormers and large yawning windows. Emma flashed him a smile. “Deal.” Watching the sassy sway of her hips as she sauntered over the spongy earth, Fox rubbed his nape. Hey, he had to occupy his hands with one part of his anatomy or another. His neck was a safe, abovethe-waist zone, and God knew, the muscles there were hard as bricks. The woman seriously had him tied up in knots. This was going to be far more complicated than he’d bargained for. The mission. Wanting the enchanting Emma Dupree. Good thing he could juggle.

30

Raven Fyre

Chapter 3 Emma used her spare key and let herself into the kitchen by way of the side door. The smells of leather, oils, sweat, and what she only guessed as sex, if it could be called so tame a word considering all that went on, assailed her. The very distinguished Mr. Knight, a handsome gentleman whom she’d registered a few days before, while wearing his five-hundreddollar suit and designer loafers, now stood in a pair of assless leather chaps and a spiked black leather collar complete with chain. His lovely companion, a twenty-something bottle blonde, with surgically implanted double D’s and enough ass fat in her lips to sink a ship, was using the chain to lead him about as if he were a German shepherd and not a Fortune 500 CEO. “Emma, darling! How splendid of you to brave the elements and the dark of night to feed our hearts’ desires.” Oh, she doubted the desires registered as high as their hearts. “It’s my pleasure, Mr. Knight. If there’s nothing else you require?” “Is that Emmaline? You must come meet her.” This came from Mrs. Vanderhorn to her husband and devoted love slave. Not the same gentleman, as it turned out, but two very scantily clad men in their early forties—a full decade younger than the woman who was dripping diamonds, draped in sheer black lace, and calling the shots. Donald and Peter, Emma quickly learned, tried to wrangle her into an adventurous foursome. What was it with these people? Discriminating, they were not. By the time she very delicately, and very diplomatically, excused herself, she felt in dire need of a shower.

Sly Like a Fox

31

The sight of Fox pacing in front of the vehicle reminded her again of his predator-like demeanor. Her body was still humming in reaction to the low growl he’d made when he’d returned from opening the gate. Whatever had possessed him to let it out, the sound had blanketed her in heat and left her feeling as if she were caged with an animal. A very sensual, gorgeous, male animal. Thrilling. She’d never had such fun bantering with the opposite sex. Normally, she found men to be either dull or outrageously conceited, especially the really pretty ones like Fox, who could probably snap his fingers and have a dozen women at his beck and call. With looks like his, a body like his, there wasn’t a woman alive who’d care if he were articulate. Fox was downright amusing. And his commanding presence, desperately arousing. Too bad he wasn’t really planning on hanging around long enough for her to try her hand at seducing him. For once in her life, Emma found that was exactly what she wanted. Sex with Fox was bound to be way more than a one on her supposed scale. Damn him! More than even the four she might’ve ranked it, if she’d thought of it. He probably had a few moves she’d never seen, never imagined. Certainly, the word inhibited would never be used to describe Fox Gannon. She could feel it in her bones. Hell, she could feel it in her pulsing center, her wet slit, her aching pussy. She wanted him as she’d never wanted anyone, and he hadn’t even kissed her, hadn’t even touched her except for that briefest caress of her jaw that had felt like a branding. If he ever really got his hands on her, she’d likely combust. Fox looked as if he were about to say something, then his eyes narrowed in on her as she drew closer. “Everything okay in there?” “You can’t imagine.” On the drive back, she filled him in.

32

Raven Fyre

“Assless chaps? The guy was how old?” “Sixty, if he’s a day, and executive soft. Not that he isn’t very attractive, in a more distinguished sense. Salt-and-pepper hair, laugh lines at his eyes. Nice smile. God, Fox, he’s old enough to be my grandfather! He probably is someone’s grandfather.” The absurdity of that had her laughing again, rolling her eyes. “And the bimbo he was with.” Her hands came up to cup her chest in an exaggerated gesture of cleavage. “Ten bucks says she’s been nipped, tucked, lipo-sucked, Botox plumped…if it weren’t for the inflated double D’s she’s sporting, she’d probably sink like a stone in water.” **** Watching Emma, listening to her, Fox found himself mesmerized. She was so animated, so full of life. And her laughter…he couldn’t remember when he’d laughed so much and in the short span of an hour. He felt as if he’d been with her for weeks, known her all his life, instead of having just arrived at this secluded, peculiar spot of Florida real estate. He genuinely liked her, and he was comfortable with her in a way that normally followed years of intimacy. Odd. No question he was attracted to her, as he’d been dealing with a hard-on since the moment he’d laid eyes on her. But Emma was more. Emma was the sort of woman a man could love. Settle down, roots, kids, commitment, sort of love. L-O-V-E. Their views on sex were vastly different, however, and he was determined to prove to her how good it could be. How good they could be. Emma’s naiveté was endearing, reminded him of a rosebud. Once the tight, tiny bud was nourished and forced to bloom, the exquisite flower beneath could then be enjoyed. He felt certain Emma would be

Sly Like a Fox

33

a blue-ribbon specimen, if only he could coax her to let go of her tightly held petals. Not that he expected she’d do so quietly or without a fight. He was counting on a good showing from that spitfire spirit of hers. He was also counting on uncovering the inherent sexuality he’d wager his savings was laying dormant just beneath that beautiful exterior. She was used to a nice, mild-mannered man who’d give her a hohum time in bed. That much was also crystal clear. What she either failed to realize or chose to ignore was the reality of her admissions. She was all but begging for the heat, the frenzy, for adding in an element of naughtiness, though she’d obviously felt ashamed to voice it. If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never forget the way she’d whispered the word spanking. Nor would he forget what it did to his system. He would have her, of that Fox was confident, but it would take breaking her, in a way, before he could do the tending a rose required. Insisting on double-checking all the doors once they were back at the cottage, Fox then followed Emma up to her room. “Think they’ll bother you again tonight?” “It isn’t a bother, Fox. This is what I do for a living, and it suits. But no. Not after midnight or before five. Oh, and I don’t do windows.” She gave him a quick, flash of a smile and a wink. “Any preference for breakfast?” You. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from shouting it. “I trust your expertise. Usually, I’m up by five thirty. Then I go for a run or work out. Don’t suppose you have a weight room around this cozy little B and B?” “Actually, there’s some equipment on the screened in porch that faces the lake. And this time of year, the water temp rivals a sauna, so take a swim if you feel so inclined. Oh, and I should warn you to make yourself scarce from three to five. With the stipulation that they’re appropriately clothed and controlled, the society has free rein

34

Raven Fyre

over the lake, the pavilion, the boathouse each afternoon. Sorry we didn’t get around to a full tour. Tomorrow? After breakfast, perhaps, if you have time.” He’d make time. “Sure. Charlie’s working ‘til noon. Then Gina’s meeting us for lunch.” “Dinner’s served promptly at seven, but I can always put a plate in the oven…whatever suits your plans.” They were back to formalities, and Fox hated it. “What if it suited me to take you to dinner?” “Dinner?” Confusion fluttered over her features, furrowed her brow. “Yes, Emma.” He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and fingering a stray lock near her temple. Silk. Dark, warm silk. He’d imagined how sumptuous it might feel in his hands and still the reality of its texture slithered awareness into his loins. Thoughts came again, of wrapping his hands around the length of it and tugging, of satisfying himself with a taste of her lips, her slender neck. “You know, two people sharing a meal, getting to know one another better.” Still eyeing him with a measure of skepticism, she prodded. “As in a date?” “So you have heard of the concept. For a minute there you were worrying me, darlin’.” “Of course, I…hmmm.” Her voice trailed off. She nibbled at her lower lip. “A date.” “We could always just skip forward to the hot monkey sex, if you’d rather. I sure as hell know I’d rather. I just figured you’d prefer a slower pace.” “Sex? Jesus, Fox. You’re talking warped speed. Until roughly an hour ago, we were strangers. And I’m really not free to take the evening off, not right now, anyway. As you saw tonight, my other guests expect me to be on call.”

Sly Like a Fox

35

“Right,” he said scathingly. “Those midnight fetish emergencies, they must be fulfilled. Then how about we order in? My treat. Surely, there’s somewhere close by that delivers.” She shook her head. “We’re sort of secluded here, a bit off the beaten path for Domino’s.” The woman was determined to make him work for it. But, he realized, smugly, she hadn’t outright objected to the idea of sex. He’d knocked her for a loop, unsettled her. Bastard that he was, he liked that very, very much. “Let me handle it. You have a grill? Good,” he said when she nodded. “Preference in wine?” “White’s good. Nothing too dry.” “Seven thirty.” With one matter settled, he stirred up another. “Oh, and Emma? Whatever perfume you’re wearing—” “Delicate Seduction,” she informed him, absently. “You don’t like it,” she added, her deflated, definitive tone enhanced by the pout she failed to hide. A lovely pout, from such lovely lips. Lifting her chin with his finger, Fox leaned in and watched the mesmerizing emerald gems of her eyes grow wide, wider. “You could bathe in it, and I’d never get enough. But, Emma, sweetheart, if you’re wearing it tomorrow night, you’d better plan on being the main course.” His sensual lips smothered her surprised gasp, and taking the advantage, he plunged his tongue in to taste, to explore, to tempt. She responded by slanting her mouth under his, surrendering fully as he took the kiss from gentle, to urgent, to demanding. Meeting her tongue to his, stroke for exquisite stroke, her hands drifted up to cup his head. He’d only meant to taste, to find a slight appeasement for the lust that had been building since he’d first set eyes on her. A sip, to take off the slicing edge. Instead, he was drowning in the flavors and

36

Raven Fyre

textures of her, a honeyed punch to the gut that made his rock-hard cock throb with the ache to be buried deep inside her. The sweet give of her mouth, the soft strangled sounds of her response as his palm caressed a ripe mound, tweaked a taut nipple. Oh, yes, baby. If she was this responsive to his kiss, his touch…his imagination roamed. There was a wildly passionate woman in there, just waiting to be unleashed. He’d pegged it, and he was determined to be the one, the only one, to snap that chain. The hell of it was, he was either going to cream his jeans or drag her to the floor and fuck her blind this instant if he didn’t step back. Rein in the control that had started to slip—so unlike him. She aroused him to a point no other woman had ever reached. Step away. It was the hardest step Fox had ever taken. The miniscule twelve inches felt like a cavernous void. He knew leaving her now would be torture for them both, more than he’d counted on, but it was a necessary evil. He eased back, breaking the contact, then pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Sleep well, Emma.” And knowing full well that she was aching, trembling, suffering, he left her. Alone. **** From the privacy of the second-floor widow’s walk, in the earliest hour before dawn, Fox made the call. “Tango.” “Foxtrot. I’m in, and I’ve secured the gate code.” “Miss Dupree?” He allowed only a muffled, light chuckle. “Not at all what I imagined.”

Sly Like a Fox

37

“Yeah, well, you didn’t want to know. Real pretty little thing. That gonna be a problem?” “Has it ever?” Evasion, answering a question with a question. Shit. It already was, but he’d have to keep it together. Tango was counting on his professionalism. “I have the money. Just tell me when you’re ready to meet.” “I have to be in town, later today. Leave it under the seat of your truck, near the side of the building, and I’ll be by close to eleven. The society’s free to come down from the hill every afternoon from three to five. A day more, tops, and I should have established my mark.” “Give the word, and I’ll have my people in place.” “Roger that.” Fox flipped the cell phone shut and watched the sun rise over Pheasant Lake. **** “Sleep well, Emma.” She parodied Fox’s deep voice, muttering under her breath as she mechanically filled the pot with water for coffee, scooped grounds into the filter. How the hell was she supposed to sleep when her mind kept running in circles, replaying the way his lips had felt on hers? The way it felt to be in his arms, to be held against all those hard muscles. Damn the man. She’d hoped there’d be heat between them if they ever tested the waters. Deep down she’d known he would be a force against her resolve, but this… It was just one kiss, she tried to tell herself. No. Maybe if it had been just a kiss. That one, brief, mind-searing kiss, the one that rocked her to the core, wasn’t just anything. It was troubling on a scale she couldn’t possibly have imagined. Her response to him came as more of a shock than she’d been prepared for. Without a flutter of thought, she’d simply melted under his touch. She’d simply surrendered. Every hot, little lick of his tongue had further twisted the desire that knotted in her belly. He’d turned her insides to mush, set her

38

Raven Fyre

mind to static. Even now, her pussy clenched, and she felt the heat pour from her slit, drenching her panties. It wasn’t sane to want him this badly! She should tell him she’d changed her mind about dinner. It would be best all around if they put on the brakes now and called it a loss before things became more complicated than was wise. Yet she wanted, simply, more. Sleep well, Emma. “As if. Damn him. Bet he slept like a damn baby.” Naked. “Double Damn!” “Rough night, sweetie?” Emma spun around at the sound of the familiar voice. “Char! Just the voice of reason I need.” Charla Madison was her closest neighbor, a good friend, and only one of a very select few who knew the truth of her May Madness— their term for the month long closure of her B and B to the general public. “Caffeine,” Charla demanded. “I need caffeine. Then I’ll be any voice you…” Emma followed Charla’s gaze toward the staircase and became as lost as her friend watching Fox stroll down for breakfast. He’d showered, shaved, and donned a fresh pair of jeans with his scuffed boots and signature T that stretched tantalizingly over every sculpted curve and every luscious line. Charla placed a hand over her heart and whispered, “Be still my heart. Emma, honey, who’s the hunk?” Before Emma could find her breath, Fox sauntered over, cupped her neck, and brushed a slow, lingering kiss over her lips while humming softly in his throat. “Mmm. Hey, baby.” She had to blink hard to clear the fuzz of her brain—“Hey yourself”—and remembered their audience. “Fox, this is Charla Madison, friend, neighbor, fellow keeper of the secret. Char, this is Fox, ah, Chris Gannon, Charlie’s friend and former Navy buddy from…Texas?”

Sly Like a Fox

39

“That’s right. Abilene.” He nodded. “Nice to meet you.” Opening the cabinet nearest the sink, he then took down three mugs. “Coffee, Char?” “Yes, please.” “There’s cream in the fridge. Sugar’s in the china bowl there by the fruit basket.” Emma realized, again, just how little she knew of the man and of all those little details that put together the puzzle of who he was. Like how he took his coffee. “Black’s fine for me.” But he scouted out the cream and added a healthy amount to her cup before pouring in the steamy dark liquid and letting it swirl together. “Here you go. Char?” “Cream and sugar.” “Coming up.” He turned to pass Emma her cup, pausing as she stared down at the creamy, caramel colored concoction. “Something wrong, darlin’?” “Huh? No, oh no. It’s perfect. Exactly how I like it.” Lucky guess, she told herself. The fact that he might have her pegged on a few elements, as precisely as she had pegged him? Well, it felt a bit…unnerving, Emma decided. And it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant feeling. Fox poured a cup for Charla, adding in cream and sugar. “Thanks.” Charla accepted the hot mug, took a tentative sip. “So, Fox, what do you think of Emma’s little May Madness?” “The bondage and orgy sessions going on up the hill?” His grin grew wickedly sly and one brow shot up. “May Madness. Pithy, Emma, and appropriate. Not exactly my taste, but to each his, or her, own.” Charla leaned back against the counter and let her eyes rake over him from head to toe. “Absolutely. And just where, exactly, do your tastes lie?” “Char!” Emma’s reprimand bordered on motherly, an ironic twist as Charla was the one who’d been married, divorced, and was the mother of two grown boys very close in age to Emma. But she was an

40

Raven Fyre

attractive woman, well toned and pampered for her age. And she kept a string of interested men dangling in her wake. “For God’s sake.” “What? We can stand here discussing other people’s deviant behavior but not our own?” “Prudish double standard, Emma.” This came from Fox, and while she would have loved to punch him in the gut, she settled for shooting sharp, green daggers at him with her glare. To Charla, he added, “Can’t say I care much for orgies, multiple partners. In theory, it sounds exciting, but there’s something far more appealing—my personal opinion, of course—about focusing all your undivided attention on one special person. On giving them everything, making sure they’re pleasured is paramount.” “Excuse me while I dissolve into the floor,” Charla quipped, fanning her face with her hand. “You wouldn’t happen to have a twin, would you, honey?” A hearty laugh erupted from Fox, but he avoided a direct answer. Staying prudently out of the conversation, Emma served up scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, and toast. She doubted her ability to contribute a coherent sentence anyway since her mind was busily dreaming up the sumptuousness of having Fox’s undivided attention. The two of them seemed to get along famously, chatting companionably, without her input, so Emma took the opportunity to sit back and observe, to listen, and to glean more of his background. Only child, divorced mother, no father in the picture. At all. Rough around the edges, a little trouble with the law as a juvenile. The military service had honed him into the hard-bodied, disciplined man he was today. He spoke little of his days with Charlie, the SEALs and their special ops missions, but for generalities, which only alluded to the secrecy involved. Covert operations. He’d killed but all in the name of service to his commander in chief. And only when any and all other available options had been deployed.

Sly Like a Fox

41

Maybe it should have been a turn off, but the loyalty, the danger, the willingness to put his country—and if one boiled it down, her safety—above his own life, only made him a more honorable man in Emma’s mind. A man she could trust. The certainty of that feeling would be the same today, tomorrow, in a year, in ten years. Some things needed no explanation. No logical reason. Gut instinct, sixth sense, woman’s intuition, whatever. Emma knew her heart, her mind. And on this, they were in perfect tandem. Knowing them as she did cemented a decision that had been only a small percentage of the reason she’d tossed and turned all night. Wanting him was an easy, if complicated, admission. The way he’d left her, miserably unfulfilled with the promise of more, giving her the power to simply ask—or in this case, simply choose to splash on a scent that drove him wild—and pleasure would he hers for the taking. Well, she most definitely was going to take. And take and take and take. Somewhere in there, she had no doubt this overwhelmingly sexy man who wanted her would take whatever he damn well pleased, as well. They’d enjoy one another, and that would be that. Then her system would be rebalanced, her desires fulfilled. She’d get a peaceful night’s rest and be back to normal. Practical. Mature. Maybe a little more adventurous on the downside, coming away with the memory that she’d made a choice— a spontaneous decision—for once in her life to do as she damn well pleased when it came to her personal desires. Claiming he had errands to run, Fox pressed a quick kiss to Emma’s temple, then scooted out while she and Charla tidied up the kitchen. “See you at seven-thirty,” he reminded her. “Nice to meet you, Char.” “Oh, honey, the pleasure was mine.” When the door closed behind him, she added, “And the view going was as good as the view

42

Raven Fyre

coming. Emma, my friend, you are one lucky gal. The whole pleasure-your-partner, full-focus thing…God, that man must be one hell of a lover.” “I have a feeling he’ll be devastating.” “Have a feeling? The way he sauntered in here as if he owned the merchandise, laying that kiss on you, and you have a feeling?” Emma just smiled. “Yes, sweet mercy, what a feeling. And tonight, that man is gonna be mine.” “Honey.” Charla laughed bawdily. “That man is already yours. You should be here, where I am, looking at him looking at you. He’s lost without a compass, spinning around aimlessly and waiting for you to pull him toward true north.” Fox Gannon? Lost? Not likely. “And you’ve been reading too many of those steamy romance novels again. That man would never be lost with a woman. We may have it bad for each other, but it’s nothing more than an itch to be scratched. Really.” The lie sat bitterly on her tongue. Her itch, her problem. “Hell, Char, we just met last night.” “Like that matters.” She rolled her eyes. “Obviously, it only took you…what…a few hours to decide you were attracted to one another?” “More like a few minutes,” Emma corrected, absently. “There you go,” Charla said. “Lust at first sight turns to love just the same whether it simmers for months, years, or boils right up at the snap of a finger. Let that gorgeous man enjoy pleasing you, and enjoy him right back. Honey, what have you got to lose?”

Sly Like a Fox

43

Chapter 4 Glancing at the clock on her nightstand, Emma grimaced, and then spoke politely with another of her guests. Their comfort took precedence over her sex life, but really, couldn’t the woman have called, say, an hour ago? Emma was still setting the scene for tonight’s main event. Candles were scattered about the room, waiting to be lit. The quilt was folded back, and the pillows plumped. Lush rose petals the color of ripe cranberries lay like kisses over the bed, the floor, and trailed into the adjoining bathroom. Next item on her agenda was to draw a hot bath and pour in the bottle of bubble bath in the same scent that he favored, Delicate Seduction. The short note she’d spent half the day agonizing over, wanting the wording to be just right, was finally composed. Fox, Let the food chill, and bring up the wine. The main course is ready and waiting to be devoured. E. Fox should be arriving in half an hour, maybe less, she calculated after another glance at the clock. And she’d hoped to be naked, soaking in frothy hot bubbles, by now. Only a miracle could have her back and waiting on him that quickly. So, she tucked the first note into the drawer by the bed for safekeeping, and penned another, informing Fox she’d had to run up the hill for a fetish emergency delivery. She noted the time, then left it on the kitchen counter, in plain sight, before tucking the bags of goodies into her SUV and heading out.

44

Raven Fyre

There was no one waiting to greet her in the kitchen of the main house, as she deposited the bags, and the sounds coming from just down the hall…well, they drew her like a moth to a flame. She hated that she felt helpless to fight her fascination. Hated that she was unable to force her legs to carry her right back out to her car. Fox would be at the cottage soon. That thought alone gave her pause. Just a minute, just a peek, she promised herself. Then she’d be on her way. Feeling along the pantry wall, she slid her fingers high, higher, reaching up near the corner until she felt the panel give. She flipped the switch on the wall just inside the narrow passageway, illuminating her way, then eased the door closed behind her. **** Emma was completely unaware of Fox, standing just inside the kitchen, silently watching her every move. What was the tempting little minx up to? Fox wondered. At the cottage, he’d read her note and hated that she’d had to come up here alone. No, she wasn’t a child. Yes, she’d been taking care of herself long before yesterday. But before yesterday, having someone look after her—having Fox—hadn’t been an option. And now that he’d met her, tasted her, intended to have her, looking after her was no longer an option. It had swiftly become a damned necessity. Case in point—he’d spent the whole of the day thinking of her, remembering the feel of having his mouth on hers, wondering if she’d made up her mind about tonight and the order in which they’d be having dinner. Hell, he’d been so distracted during lunch that Charlie had given him fits, teasing him about aging and slipping where his skills as a

Sly Like a Fox

45

SEAL were concerned. Total concentration being shot and all. But he’d brushed it off as a hundred other things. Anything he could come up with besides the truth. Fox had never been distracted by the want of a woman. Countless missions, countless opportunities to be distracted. And he’d always, always managed to keep his focus. Until now. Until Emma. Desire had become like a fever raging in his blood. And she was the cure, the only cure. He crept to the door, and repeating the moves he’d seen her make to find the release point, opened the panel. The passageway was long and narrow, looked fairly straight from this vantage point, and empty. Because of his height, Fox had to duck as he entered. Going strictly on instinct, he followed the corridor along until it split and chose the hall to his right. The gradual slope of the floor might’ve gone unnoticed, but his finely honed military skills instantly registered the shift. The farther down he went, the cooler and thinner the air, the louder the sounds became, and their clarity sharpened from muffled echoes to discernable commands. The hidden room, as Emma had described it, did indeed overlook the basement. But as Fox now saw, as he slipped unheard into the room—dungeon was a more apt description. He didn’t even know the names for some of the devices hanging here, spread out there. Leather contraptions, chains, whips, clips. The chair Emma had tried to describe, mentioning that it had been delivered for one couple in particular. And Emma was getting an education in its use. Fox couldn’t help but grin at the sight she made. Obviously entranced, Emma was perched on her knees in the seat of a cushioned chair she’d turned, angling it toward the window, in order to get a more optimal view. Her torso was pressed to the back of

46

Raven Fyre

the chair, and she was leaning over to see out of the wide, darkly tinted glass in front of her. The window had been constructed to allow the observer to see out, to hear the exchange via several small speakers on the walls, but the participants below could not see in. Or at least, if they saw anything, it might be only a shadow, dark figures. Silently, as a panther stalking prey, another honed recon skill, Fox eased forward toward Emma and used one swift hand to cover her mouth at the exact instant he slid the other around her waist. She bucked, just as anticipated, and Fox was there to steady her, to cover her scream. He whispered, hoping to calm her. “Naughty, naughty girl.” Fox. He felt his name form on her lips and pulled his hand from her mouth. She made a move as if she intended to scramble out of the chair, but he blocked her in with his massive body. Keeping her just as she was. Keeping his lips at her ear. “You came to watch, sweetheart, so let’s watch.” **** Mortification didn’t come close to describing how Emma felt. Mortified and trapped. And aroused at the hot brush of breath near her temple, the deeply masculine voice, the strong, supple body pressed to hers. Arousal trumped the other two. The woman below them was dressed in nothing more than a wide, leather collar and her smile. Her master was decked out in an elaborate, black vinyl getup with laces and loops and chains. A salacious portion of the costume, was all Emma could think to call it, was missing. The man’s very erect cock was on display to tantalize his captive. And in his hand, a long, vicious looking whip, with a dozen or so braided strands, was ready to be slashed about.

Sly Like a Fox

47

He stroked the long, talon-like leather braids through his palm in anticipation of striking flesh, as he ordered the woman to kneel on all fours on the slightly curved seat. Then came the sharp, snapping command. “Head down, ass up, legs wide.” She complied, then waited, as he cuffed one ankle to the side of the chair, then the other. As she was, spread wide, ass up, the woman’s shaved mound was clearly visible. And it quivered after the first, smart smack of the whip. Emma flinched as if she’d been the one to receive the blow. “I don’t think I would care for that,” she whispered. There was no fear of detection, but there was something about spying that made her feel, well, as if she were spying, and keeping her voice low was imperative. “Not right on the, ah, well—” “Pussy,” Fox filled in, and chuckled at her gasp of shock. “It’s just us, Emma. No need to filter it on my account.” He ran his hands down her arms, then gripped her waist before caressing lower over her hips and back up again. “I thought you said the idea of being spanked turned you on.” “A spanking on the ass,” she clarified, still in a state of disbelief to be having such a conversation. But it was Fox, and not only did she want him as she’d wanted no other, she also felt comfortable with him as she had no other. “And nothing so hard or vicious as the way that man is doling it out. The woman’s shaking. Her…pussy…is quivering and red. That whip is barbaric! Just a nice, firm hand would do.” “Nice, firm hands,” he murmured, brushing his lips over her cheek. “I’ll have to remember that. File that away for later.” Later. The main course. “Dinner,” she prompted, feeling the need to apologize. Fox replied, “Can wait.” “Oh, but Fox, I had it all planned out.” ****

48

Raven Fyre

The pouting tone of her voice was so damn sexy Fox wanted to bite her lip. He settled for nipping the creamy lush lobe of her ear instead. “Sometimes it’s better when plans change.” He breathed deep, inhaling the heady fragrance locked into the chestnut waves of her hair. “Emma…” Delicate Seduction. “I was going to bathe in it, Fox. I was going to be naked and soaking in a hot tub smelling like raspberries and vanilla and waiting for you.” Gently holding her captive with a hand around her throat and another at her breast, he brushed his lips along her jaw. She’d planned on him, on them. He’d never paid for sex, but long ago, he’d learned to appreciate the comfort of a beautiful woman when the offer arose. In a foreign land, under the pressures of danger, of fulfilling a mission and staying alive, there’d been no time for seductions. No time for romance. Nor had he ever thought he needed it. But he could see where Emma would appreciate it. And he could appreciate that Emma had planned on savoring him, planned for him to savor her. It touched him deeper, in more ways, than he ever could have dreamed. No, not even in his dreams would he have imagined the pleasure of a woman like Emma. A sane man would have backed away, stepped far, far away from the flames before he was burned. She would likely hate him when the truth of it all came out, his reasons for being in Owl’s Run in the first place, which was exactly why he should put a halt to his urges for now. And when had Fox Gannon ever been accused of being practical? Try never. “You’re sure?” He needed her reassurance. She nodded.

Sly Like a Fox

49

“Say it, baby.” She whimpered his name. “Not good enough, Emma. Tell me you want me. Let me hear that you want me to fuck you.” The fingers on her throat trailed lower, flicking open the first few buttons on her shirt. He cupped a ripe, lace-covered breast in his palm and began kneading it gently. She whimpered again. “Emma,” he said more harshly. He’d never realized how badly he needed the words, how badly he needed to hear Emma’s voice assuring that it was him, and only him, who she wanted. Arching into his touch, her bottom brushed seductively against his hips. Fox mentally cursed the layers separating them, as his cock strained to be free of his jeans. “Yes, Fox.” She reached back, clutching his hip, and pulled him close. Closer. “Make love to me.” “Later, baby. In so many ways. Emma, you can’t imagine what all I’m going to do to you. But now, here, baby, I’m going to fuck you. Hard, fast. Tell me you want it, Emma. Say it.” Having witnessed torture as a means of extracting information, or punishing a captor, the act of heavy bondage going on below did nothing to stir Fox’s juices. The dominance aspect, however, when properly applied with consent and for pleasure, was highly erotic. And something he definitely enjoyed wielding with Emma. Still molding the luscious mound of her breast, he pinched the pebbled peak and she arched into his hand. He felt her tremble, could have sworn he felt the ripples of pleasure echoing over her skin. Or were they his own? His pulse quickened in response. She nodded again. “Say it, Emma.” He whispered the demand. “Yes.” She licked her parched lips. “Yes. Ah! Oh, Fox, please. Please pinch it again.”

50

Raven Fyre

“What about that ass, Emma? You want these firm hands on that ass?” The man below was stroking the woman’s very red ass with the cat-o’-nine-tails. He flicked his wrist and twisted the object to reach her pussy. Another smack of leather to flesh rang out, and Emma moaned. “Not too hard,” she pleaded. Then she hooked her arm around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers. “Spank me, Fox. Fuck me.” Hot damn! Errands had consisted of shopping for the makings of dinner. Steaks, potatoes, wine. And, like Emma, he’d taken the steps of preparation, buying protection, taking the chance that she’d take a chance on him. Fortune had never smiled on Fox so sweetly. At times it really paid, Fox noted, to be a Boy Scout. He had one precious foil packet tucked away in his hip pocket, so he’d have to make the most of it. Later, he’d see about working her up to a few other miscellaneous items he had waiting back at the cottage. She protested briefly when his hand left her breast but mewed in appreciation when he deftly worked the fastening on her jeans. Plucking the button, easing down the teeth of the zipper. Slowly, he dragged the jeans down her hips, leaving them bunched at her knees. Then he smoothed his hands upward, trailing over the creamy skin of her thighs to cup her hip. “So soft, Emma. So smooth. Do you know how beautiful you are? Do you know what you do to me?” He ground his hips into her bottom, rubbing the bulge of his denim-clad cock over the globes of her silk-covered ass. The rasp of the fabric heightened his arousal. The woman below cried out, and Emma jolted. The imprint of a wide, red palm was clearly visible on the woman’s ass cheek.

Sly Like a Fox

51

“Does that make you wet, baby?” Emma’s only response was a rather husky whimper. If she wouldn’t say it, he’d have to give her another nudge. After tugging down her sexy blue silk panties, he splayed a hand over her smooth, lush derriere. Then ever so gently, he gave it a firm pat. Emma jolted again, as if he’d slapped her as hard as the man below. Oh yes, Fox thought, it aroused her far, far more than she wanted him to know. Smugly, he savored the idea. **** Why was he torturing her? He’d promised fast and hard, and he was killing her with a playful pat on the ass, a caressing hand on her breast. Emma wanted more. She wanted it rough, fast, hard, all the ways she’d never experienced. Damn it, she’d given him the words. Words she’d never voiced in her life. So, when? She wanted to scream. When, God, when was he going to fuck her? Trying to speed things along, she reached back, cupped his denimcovered erection and rubbed her palm over the hard bulge, possessively. A deep groan escaped his lips, and he rocked against her hand as if he were savoring the sensation. Under his swift fingers, her shirt fell to the floor, followed closely by her bra. Having her jeans and panties still shoved around her knees while the rest of her body was exposed felt oddly, wonderfully wicked. A form of soft-core bondage, a level she could appreciate. The fact that he’d shed his shirt, finally allowing her to feel his warm, firm, naked flesh brushing against hers, made her shudder. Smooth, hard muscles pressed to lithe, lean lines and lush curves. His blatant masculinity heightened the contrasts of her femininity,

52

Raven Fyre

making her feel even more sumptuous. Nothing had ever felt so wonderful. Hot, wet kisses trailed over her shoulder, down along the slope of her back then up again. Teeth nipped teasingly at the sensitive column of her throat, sending shivers over her entire body. “Sweetheart, your skin tastes as good as you smell.” When he cupped the V of glistening curls between her thighs, she moaned. Her mound wasn’t just damp, her juices were damn near pouring into his palm. She knew it and knew there was no way to disguise how magnificently he’d aroused her. Would he choose to exploit his power? Ah, but she’d felt the proof of his erection. Turn about was glorious. Pulling her to her feet, Fox turned her around and crushed his mouth to hers in a bruising, demanding assault that left them both panting and clawing for another. He tore his mouth from hers and stripped her fully, tossing aside her jeans and the damp swatch of silk and lace. Then he shucked his jeans as well. Emma twisted, watching, entranced as he shoved his briefs down and off. “Oh. Oh my.” Emma’s lids drifted shut as she held the image of his thick, hard cock frozen in her mind. As she swallowed hard, the vision of the way it bounced back against the flat, smooth plain of his stomach made her lick her lips. Every inch of him was gorgeous. Sculpted, toned, huge, ruggedly male. Hadn’t he told her she was beautiful? She felt as if it were true, as if he meant it as more than just a token statement. He deserved the same, to hear how much he pleased her, thrilled her. She was determined to enjoy this once in a lifetime encounter, to have more than ho-hum sex with this god of a man. And for that, she would have to do her part.

Sly Like a Fox

53

It felt akin to knocking a few bricks off the wall, no small effort on Emma’s account, finding her voice. Knocking off a few more, she also opened her eyes and found those trained, pewter eyes sharply homed in on hers. **** Fox watched her like a hawk, searching for a flicker of response, trying desperately to intuit the way those brilliant emerald orbs narrowed and darkened. Approval? Amusement? Hell, even blatant rejection would have been less torture than the thought of Emma having to shut out the sight of him. “Emma?” She shook her head and reached out to press her palms over his chest. She flicked a hard, dark nipple with her thumb, then did the same with her tongue. “I can feel your heartbeat, Fox. It’s racing as wildly as mine.” She brought his hand to rest just above her breast. “Can you feel it?” Feel it? How could he not? His skin was on fire. She was touching him, caressing him, stirring up the need that had fisted in his gut. “You make me stone stupid, Fox. Maybe that’s not seductive or arousing. I’ve never claimed to be any good at this. But it’s honest. There’s just so much of you, so much rugged, gorgeous man.” Her hands skimmed lower, spreading fire over his abs. Looking down at her, their eyes met, and she smiled seductively while wrapping her fingers around him. Fox gritted his teeth as she stroked the length of his cock, swirled her thumb around the sensitive tip. She tantalizingly worked up the first few drops of his cream, using it to rub circles around the head of his cock. His head fell back, and a deep grunt echoed in the room. “God, Emma.” “I can’t think for wanting you, Fox.”

54

Raven Fyre

On another sharp grunt, he grabbed her up, fisted his hands in her hair as he’d dreamed, and tormented them both with a long, seductive exploration of lips and teeth and tongues. Then as swiftly as he’d grabbed her, he broke the kiss and spun her back around so that she gripped the back of the chair again for support. Splaying his hand over the smooth span of her belly, he then let his hand journey lower, sifting his fingers through the drenched curls, parting the folds of her swollen nether lips and rubbing her clit. Her snatches of breath, her whimpers urged him on, as the tiny nub swelled under his tantalizing ministration. Her breathless sigh shivered out to float on the air, prickling his skin. Later, he promised himself he’d bury his head between her thighs and taste that dripping pussy, as he’d only dreamed. To turn her phrase, she just made him stone stupid. One look, one touch, and he became distracted by the effect she had over him. For now, he slaked his urge by stroking the warm, wet slit, gliding his fingers between the slick folds, plunging them deep into the velvety, moist sheath of her pussy. She responded instantly, contracting around his invading digits, milking them with her inner muscles. “Sweet God, Emma. You’re so hot, so wet. I can’t wait to sink my cock in that sweet, hot pussy.” “Don’t wait, Fox. I want it now.” Nipping at her shoulder, he promised, “Soon, baby. When you’re ready to take all of me, Emma. The last thing I want is to hurt you.” “Fox...Please…”

Sly Like a Fox

55

Chapter 5 Oh, but the man had the most wonderful, skilled hands! Long, thick fingers. The perfect pressure, the perfect tempo. He was stroking her, teasing her, wrapping her in silky ribbons of pleasure. Fox was worried he’d hurt her? God, she was aching, writhing in his hand, fighting for breath, for reason. Those ribbons had wrapped her pussy in heat and were twisting into hot, tight knots of unbearable need. Coiling tighter and tighter and tighter. If he didn’t end this blissful torture soon, she’d… Emma’s scream echoed off the stone walls. She rocked against his palm, feeling her insides shatter as her pussy contracted around his fingers over and over and over. Her knees buckled, but Fox’s strength was there to catch her, easing her back down into a kneeling position in the seat of the chair. As she shuddered, trembled, sobbed his name, she was only faintly aware of his soothing tone. The words were a mystery. Fox murmured to her as he brought her gently, fully back to earth. To Emma, nothing had ever sounded so sweet. When her vision cleared, her gaze swept downward, locking on the couple below. The man’s hands were buried in the woman’s blonde hair, and he was forcing his cock down her throat, holding it deep as she gagged. He allowed her a breath, which she gulped in before demanding, “Give it back.” He obliged her, keeping her head immobile with one hand while leaning over her to smack her bottom with his bare hand.

56

Raven Fyre

This time, the jolt was genuine, as Fox’s firm, wide palm met Emma’s ass cheek only slightly harder than the first time. “You know you like it, Emma. Don’t deny it.” “Yes!” she hissed out. “Damn it, Fox. Yes!” Once more, with the same passion. “Harder,” Emma instantly demanded. “Fuck,” Fox replied, giving her another harder smack. “Yes.” She practically sobbed. Begging, “Fuck me, Fox. Fast, hard. Now!” She heard the rip of foil, imagined him sheathing that thick, hard cock, and closed her eyes while she bit her lip in anticipation. His hand shot back between her legs, spreading her knees wider as she gripped the back of the chair for support. Leaning forward, she bowed her back, as his hand came around to press against the firm, flat span of her abdomen. Then he guided her back just slightly, until she felt the first teasing strokes of his cock gliding up and down her slit, rubbing the broad head against her clit. Eager, hungry for more, she wiggled and tried to take him in. “Tell me how bad you want it, baby.” Hadn’t she begged him for it already? Damn him. But she knew what he wanted. “Every thick, juicy inch, Fox. I want that big, thick cock stretching my pussy. Filling me up.” “That’s a good girl.” He eased the head of his cock inside her, waiting as her body adjusted to his size. Then, inch by inch, he sank farther, higher, deeper until his balls smacked her clit, and she cried out in ecstasy. God, she could feel him in her throat. She whimpered a protest when he pulled out, then sighed with the heady satisfaction of feeling him buried deep inside her again. Just when she’d adjusted, when the slick hot friction was too perfect to deny, he withdrew completely. “Fox?”

Sly Like a Fox

57

“Emma, baby, hold on,” he warned, gripping her hips. Then in one swift, hard stroke, he slammed into her. “Yes! Oh God, Fox. More! Harder!” Control snapped, the whip and crack of the chain breaking free echoed between them as a deep, primal growl erupted from Fox’s throat. He held her hips as he hammered his thick, throbbing cock into her slick, pulsing pussy. Over and over and over, as he dug at some deep, thrilling spot inside of her that no one had ever touched. That place she’d instinctively known was his and his alone to reach, to possess. Harder, faster he drove them both on. Emma felt everything inside her grow taut as a bow string then burst free as the convulsive shock waves of her orgasm rippled through her hips, spreading outward through her body. The scream froze in her throat. She felt as if her body had been burned to ashes, as if her bones had simply dissolved. She went blind as the overwhelming sensations battered her system. Still buried to the hilt inside her, Fox held her against him, locked together, with his hands kneading her breasts. Then she felt him bow back, felt his cock jerk and pulse through his own release. It was gloriously amazing. Fox was amazing, better than all her expectations, which had swelled pretty damn high after seeing the size of his cock. And yet, Emma felt mildly…disappointed. How crazy was it to be so conflicted? Here she was, basking in the most unbelievable orgasms she’d ever experienced, pressed body to body with the most amazing man she’d ever had the pleasure to meet, who’d consequently fucked her speechless, who’d shattered her world, her body, her mind. And still, she felt cheated. And wicked. Naughty. Wickedly naughty for wanting—no, let’s just be honest—craving the feel of his release. Not just the heat, or the way his body had jerked in response, but the sweet, slick cream she

58

Raven Fyre

craved, filling her pussy simply because it was his essence, proof of passion spent. Fox’s passion, unleashed, for her. Well, she’d just have to find another fistful of courage to deal with that when the time came for round two because there was so going to be a round two. And three. Four, if she could hold out. Five, if she didn’t die. Hell, if she did, she’d go a damn happy woman. “Looks like they’re satisfied,” Fox commented while pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “I gotta say I never thought I’d get much out of watching, but with you…” A glance below showed the sated couple. The woman was still ass up, with the man bowed over her back, kneading her dangling breasts and murmuring. The sounds coming from the speaker were too muted to make out, and that was fitting, Emma thought. They deserved their privacy on some level, despite putting their naked bodies and their blatant lust on display. “Emma.” He cupped her face in his hand and pivoted her toward him. “You have to know…” Looking down at her, into her, he confessed, “It’s never been so intense for me before, not with anyone else. I know it was rough and…Emma, if I hurt you…” Turning so she could face him fully, she cupped his cheeks in her hands and laid her lips on his. “You didn’t. It was…” She nibbled gently at the lush swell of his lower lip, and then slid her tongue along the seam to coax his mouth to open. “Twenty on that scale of one to ten.” Tenderly, their mouths mated, savored. Easing back, she smoothed her hands over his head and down his neck, spread them out to his shoulders and down his arms. Arms that locked around her and pulled her closer while he took her mouth on another long, slow journey into the dark, into the heat. His cock was hard again, pressing between them.

Sly Like a Fox

59

Round two, it seemed, was coming faster than she’d imagined. Thank you, God! She’d expected sex with him to be rough and raunchy, and she hadn’t been disappointed. What she hadn’t counted on was his being so tender and compassionate, as well. It aroused her more than she would have realized. And now, it seemed, he wanted her again. She should have been sated. Instead, she was revved. “Damn it to hell.” Well, that stalled her engine. “I only brought one condom, Emma. I’ve got a whole fucking box back at the cottage.” His hands were on her ass, pressing her closer so that she could feel the hard, hot head of him rubbing her still-swollen clit. The pleasure was so intense that she found it hard to breathe. “I’m on the pill.” With her eyes locked on his, she added, “And I trust you. Completely.” For a moment, he let his forehead rest against hers. “I would never do anything to hurt you, Emma.” With his hands gripping her ass, he lifted her closer, sliding them under her thighs as he wrapped her legs around him. He took her mouth again while she squirmed and rubbed against the heat she so badly wanted filling her. “That pussy is dripping wet, Emma. You want it bad, don’t you baby?” “Yes, oh God, yes.” A slight shift and the lips of her slit were pressed full-on with his length. If she could just wiggle forward, and…There. Oh, yes…Almost… “You’ve gotten greedy already.” He chuckled. Relentlessly pursuing her wish to have him inside her, she clamped her legs tighter around him and gripped his shoulders. She felt the glorious thickness as the broad head of his cock sank into her pussy, then just a couple inches more. “I want you inside me, Fox. All of you.”

60

Raven Fyre

“Sweet God, Emma. Fuck, that’s…ah, baby.” His eyes went to hazy gray mists as she used the muscles of her inner walls to grip his cock in a series of intense convulsions. “Incredible.” “All of you,” she insisted while taking savory little nibbles at his lips. “I want you to come inside me, Fox. Please, let me feel you come inside me.” “Sweet God, Emma.” He took her mouth again and sank his cock to the hilt inside her. Then he maneuvered her back against the wall, plunging deep, holding her thighs as he pounded his cock into her with long, deep strokes. Emma clung to him, scoring her nails along the slope of his back, spurring him on with her urgent demands, as he took them both to the sharp, jagged edge of the storm. His hand pressed between them, and he used his thumb to rub her clit as he shoved her thighs wider. He hammered harder, took her higher with every thrust. She was literally bouncing on his cock by the time they both reached the peak of release. Their mouths fused, smothering the strangled cry Emma loosed as the climax slammed into her, shattered her. She felt his thick, hard cock throbbing against the tight, slick inner walls of her pussy. Felt his cream gushing out of his cock like a flow of lava, filling her. Never had she felt so complete. “Mmm…Fox. Oh, baby.” Her lips trailed down his throat. Then she licked her way back up, savoring the slick, salty skin, meeting his mouth for another long, lazy exploration. “God, Fox, you are magnificent.” Whimpering a soft protest as he pulled out, she hated the empty feeling. Then, spent and shaky, Emma simply slid back down to her feet as Fox braced his hands on the wall. ****

Sly Like a Fox

61

Forehead pressed to hers, Fox let his lids drift shut and relished the sound of her honey tone, sated with pleasure and trembling, as she’d called him baby. He’d known. Deep, deep down, he’d known. Jesus, he was so in trouble. She wasn’t just a woman he could love. He had been hauled off his ass, ripped into a million pieces, and shook out. He had fallen headfirst into love like he’d never imagined. It wasn’t just the sex, though, God knew, it was phenomenal. It was that sex with Emma was more than just that most basic of physical connections. More than just shared pleasure. This, Fox nearly groaned, was mating. Elemental. Two bodies made for one another, coming together like halves of a whole. Hypotheticals and dreams of making her his in every way were one thing. To be standing here, infused with the scent of Emma, the memory of her body burned into his skin, the taste of her fresh on his lips. Feeling as if the woman shaking and panting right along with him were merely an extension of his own soul, threatened a man’s sanity. Because of having had her, Fox now knew no other woman would ever satisfy him again. But he didn’t deserve her. The life he’d led, the things he’d done and seen. He wasn’t the sort of man Emma needed. Worse, once she realized how he’d lied to her, she would assume he’d simply used her as a pawn in this game of deception. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She’d offered him the ultimate trust. Nothing had ever felt so amazing as being flesh-to-flesh, steeped in the hot, velvet glove of her pussy. Of Emma. And nothing had felt more erotic than knowing she wanted him filling her up with his hot, wet seed. Complete trust and she was probably going to kick his ass in very soon for betraying it.

62

Raven Fyre

No matter how it went down, in the end, what frightened Fox most was that he doubted she would be able to forgive him. Certainly, she’d never be able to love him. And he needed her to love him back as much as he needed his next breath. She could hurt him as no woman ever had, that was as plain to him now as the heart shattering in his chest. He’d never given a woman that much power over him. Hell, he hadn’t given it to Emma. She’d had only to give of herself, and that power had been ripped right out of his hands, torn from his soul as if she’s always held the strings to it. He had to regroup, if that was humanly possible. **** Emma felt Fox pull away, far, far away, as he shoved away from the wall. It was more than the distance of a few footfalls between them as he grabbed up his clothes and handed her hers. Silence deafened the room. His look of tormented anguish broke her heart. What had she done wrong? What had happened? What had she missed? Pride swelled in her and dammed the tears that burned behind her eyes. She would not let him see her pain. Not one, single tear. And she’d just swallow her aching heart right back down into her chest. Damn. She dressed quickly, silently as he did the same. Then a sharp, seething curse broke through the malaise that surrounded them like a shroud. “Fox?” Looking from his expression of disbelief to the floor below, she realized the willing captive had been released from her bonds of leather and chain and allowed to stand. Roles being reversed, she was holding the now shackled man’s dark head to her pussy.

Sly Like a Fox

63

With her chin lifted high, and the tormented pleasure of having the man nip at her clit playing over her face, it was easy for Emma to see that she was a very attractive woman. Early thirties. Honeyed blonde. Big sapphire blue eyes. She had a lean figure with small curves and pert, small breasts. Emma couldn’t deny that the woman was indeed lovely. “Fuck,” Fox said again. Emma studied him as he scrubbed a hand over his features. She flinched. “You know her.” It was a statement of the obvious and clearly not a question. The question that bubbled up over Emma’s mind was also obvious, judging from his reaction, and had her heart falling to her toes. Her voice dropped several octaves. “You care for her.” He grabbed her by the upper arms and snapped her gaze up to his. The move was so swift, so shocking, that she swore her ribs knocked together. “Cared, Emma. Once. Long ago. Before…Before I found out what a lying, cheating bitch she could be.” Emma felt jarred again when he let her go as abruptly as he’d grabbed her up. “I haven’t seen her in years, Emma. Probably close to a decade. But not much about her has changed, I see. Wanting her kicks by…Jesus, who am I to judge? I just watched her get tied up and whipped before being fucked up the ass. I need a shower. And a damn, stiff drink.” With so much left unsaid between them, with so much emotional turmoil still simmering, they fell silent again. Fox offered his hand, and Emma took it like a lifeline, following him back through the narrow passage, to the hidden door, and back out into the night. **** The short ride back to the cottage, separately—just as they had arrived—gave them both time and silence to brood, to question.

64

Raven Fyre

But little in the way of answers. They climbed the stairs at a comfortable distance, then each retired to their corners, as it were, to shower and regroup before facing off again across the arena of the kitchen table. Dinner was rote, a methodical process of nourishing their exercised bodies and pouring a little alcohol buzz into their bloodstreams. Conversation was stilted, awkward. Gone was that comfortable ease they’d shared from the moment they’d met. This was no date. This was sheer torture. Emma was all too happy to shoo him out of the kitchen. “You grilled. I’ll clean.” Truthfully, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief to have him out from under foot. Her insides were a mass of quaking Jell-O, shaking with need, stirred by the desire to all but slap him around and beg him to tell her where the hell the man she was in love with had retreated. Love? “Well, shit.” Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. “How much of a fool can you be, Emma Dupree? One—two mind numbing rounds, and the man has you so wrapped around his finger you can’t breathe for remembering his scent.” It was a sheer miracle she didn’t break a few plates, the way she shoved them in the dishwasher before dropping in the glasses, the utensils. Scrubbing the gloss off the granite became another mindless chore. Kitchen clean, Emma was angrier now that she’d had even more time to stew in a vat of introspection. She started up the stairs with the intent of wiping away any and all traces of the scene she’d set for tonight. The last thing she wanted was for Fox to stumble over the haven she’d created, the slice of her heart she’d prepared for him. For them.

Sly Like a Fox

65

Silly, stupid, impetuous, and yet, no more ridiculous than her previous miscalculations with men. Why had she ever believed that Fox, a relative stranger, could be different? Why had she suddenly tossed all her apples into one cart and shoved them his way after twenty-seven years of floating along, happily, blissfully ignorant to the true pain of love? Why now? How, in so very short a time, had things become so damned tangled and complicated beyond comprehension? Stone stupid. Being with Fox, these feelings for Fox, she’d turned stone stupid. Her legs felt weighted as she made the climb, higher, closer. She would’ve rather faced a firing squad over those rose petals and candles scattered about. Mementos of a night she’d likely never have. Fast and hard and full-out fuck-me sex had done a body good. She really had no cause to complain. Emma sighed. Except, she’d hoped for more. For something slow and seductive and earth shattering on a whole new level—yet another first she believed she might find with Fox. Only Fox. But he’d pulled away, seemingly able to seal up whatever he’d felt for her while inside of her, once they were apart. As if he could simply lock it up and shove it to a dark, silent place. He wanted her, but obviously he’d been able to slake his desires without allowing himself to become emotionally involved in the process. Well, she had yet to master such a maneuver. And honestly, she didn’t think she’d want to, either. After all he’d made her feel, all he’d opened up inside of her, the last thing she wanted was to close that part of herself off again. It was too magnificent a feeling, as if she were really, truly breathing for the first time. She wasn’t about to suffocate under the restrictions of her past.

66

Raven Fyre

She’d just stepped over the threshold when she heard Fox call out to her. Why was there never a handy black hole ready to swallow you up when you needed it most? Emma wondered. Unable to turn, to face him, she stood where she was and closed her eyes. Mentally gathering courage. Breathe, Emma. **** He’d had time to think, not enough time to change his mind about his chances with Emma. But enough to realize that he had hurt her, by pulling back without trying to make her understand. She deserved that, didn’t she? Yes, of course she did, but revealing everything could put her at risk, could put this mission at risk. Everything was starting to get so damn tangled together. Explaining his reaction to the woman in the dungeon—of all the bondage clubs in all the U. S. of fucking A., he had to run into her here. Like this. Now—would entail revealing at least a portion of his feelings for Emma. No way was he ready for that momentous leap. Nor was he thrilled with the prospect of finding his contact, his In for the mission, in an old flame he’d rather leave extinguished. But what choice did he have? None. Fuck. “Emma?” he called out, searching the hallway, certain he’d heard her footsteps. He had to try, somehow, someway, to make it up to her, to make her understand without jeopardizing… Rose petals? Candles? Romance. Yes, he’d guessed right. Here was proof that she wanted it. She needed it. Hell, Fox knew she deserved it.

Sly Like a Fox

67

The lamplight sent out a warm golden glow into the otherwise dark room. The dimly lit room, with the bed readied and the quilt pulled back because she’d planned to share it with him. The room that was so infused with her intoxicating scent just one shallow breath had him drunk with lust. Raspberries and vanilla. Her scent. Sweet, sexy Emma. Stone stupid, Fox thought. The woman and these swift, uncontrollable feelings were making him stone stupid. There was no way in hell he’d ever be able to keep his hands off her. No way in hell he could ever walk away from her and hope to live as a whole man. There had to be a way, he told himself. He’d never backed down from a challenge, a mission. This would not be his first. Nor would it become his first failure. Swallowing the lump of emotion in his throat, he took the first tenuous step to building a bridge that could likely burn beneath his feet. “It’s lovely, Emma.” “Silly,” she corrected. Finally opening her eyes, she began gathering up the rose petals from the quilt. Fox moved stealthily, eliciting a gasp from her as he took her by the shoulders, halting her efforts. He sensed her vulnerability as if it were a tangible wall of brick and mortar between them. “Leave them,” he whispered. “I want to see you naked, with them scattered around you.”

68

Raven Fyre

Chapter 6 Mind reeling, with Fox’s hands roaming, Emma forgot to be angry that he’d somehow flipped a switch, and they were suddenly back to where they’d been only hours earlier. Right where she’d imagined them being by now, minus the bubble bath. “Light the candles, Emma.” Fox had already toed off his boots and was shucking his socks, his shirt. Well, by God, she was going to make the most of this as well, Emma decided. He could retreat to any damn dark hole he wished, and she was certain that he’d retreat to Texas soon enough. That was another disturbing fact she needed wrap her mind around. Fine, Emma vowed, touching fire to wick. She’d accept the inevitable as unchangeable, but she would have her memories. No regrets. “Leave something for me, will you?” Emma asked, noting he’d already unbuttoned his fly. At the sight of his very fine, exposed torso her palms itched to touch. Chuckling, Fox obliged her and left the zipper up. He scouted out the remote for the Bose and began scanning the channels. The twang of country floated out, followed by the classical strains of an instrumental orchestra. There was the crackle of static, then the ear-piercing wail of an electric guitar. Emma winced and motioned to a black case on the dresser. “CDs if you’d rather.” The mix here was as eclectic as the one in her car. Fox took a minute to flip through the case before popping a disc in the player.

Sly Like a Fox

69

Middle ground, Emma thought, when the bluesy strains of a lamented sax began to fill the room. Mostly instrumental, soulful, seductive. Yep, that set the mood. **** Fox envisioned rubbing his hands together, imagined lacing his fingers and inverting them, giving them a limbering flex as if preparing to crack the dial on a safe. He’d given her fast and hard. It was time to shift gears and show her he could be romantic. A softer side. No other woman had ever brought it out in him. But then, they hadn’t been Emma. And wasn’t that the point? Maybe he was too chickenshit to give her the words in his heart, for fear she’d laugh in his face. Another first, as he was rarely afraid of anything. But women like Emma Dupree were akin to one of the great wonders of the world. Dealing with her on so deep an emotional level was beyond the scope of his training. Fox was just a simple man with simple needs. He could blow shit up with frightening precision. Need to snatch and grab a hostage or a mark without so much as a flutter of a glitch? Fox Gannon was your man. But matters of emotion, the heart? Love? Terribly shaky ground. Right now, Fox needed to feel he had the right to be with Emma. She wanted him here, tonight, now, and for now, it would have to be enough. “Mmm…that’s nice.” Having tossed off her sandals, Emma came to stand in front of him. Her fingers skated up over the muscles of his chest, lacing around his neck, as she leaned into his embrace. “You. The music. Good choice, though, I figured you’d go more for the Nickleback, maybe even Three Doors Down.” Because it felt like the right thing to do, he swayed gently, dancing with her in the candlelit room, moving with the lazy,

70

Raven Fyre

seductive rhythm of the music. Simple pleasures he rarely indulged in—dancing with a beautiful woman, long, leisure explorations. Tonight, he would indulge in everything he could think of wanting. With Emma. She’d pulled her hair up again, and it gave him a secret rush to pop the clip and watch the dark, silky waves spill over her. Desperate for more, he tugged her shirt up and off as she lifted her arms for him, then felt that thrilling rush shoot through him again when all those waves cascaded over her pale skin. “So beautiful,” he whispered and kissed her shoulder. His lips skimmed along the sculpted lines there, up along her collarbone, to the creamy stem of her neck. Emma hooked a finger in the waistband of his jeans and began to ease down the zipper. Her knuckle grazed along his briefs, down the hard ridge of his erection. Fox sucked in a quick breath as spidery fingers of arousal shot to his loins at the contact. Diabolical. The woman was diabolical. She had to know that she was strangling him with sensations, teasing him to the point of madness. “Emma,” he murmured. “I want to taste you, Fox.” She looked up at him, locked her eyes onto his. “All of you.” Mesmerized, Fox watched her peel the jeans off his hips, then his briefs. She worked them down and off, tossed them aside, then brought her gaze back to his. An impish smile spread over her sensual lips as she leaned in and pressed a kiss to the center of his chest. He felt the searing glide of her tongue, the whisper of her lips, the nip of teeth, as she began to tease her way down his torso, ending up on her knees before him. He fisted his hands in her hair, held her captive but let her rule. And rule she did, as expertly as any queen with her subject. Gently, she wrapped her silky fingers around the base of his hard cock and began to stroke him. She licked the length of him, once,

Sly Like a Fox

71

twice, then swirled her tongue over the tip. “Tell me what you want, Fox.” He felt the playful nip of teeth, tugging lightly on his sac, and groaned. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.” Oh, but she was a quick one. A very adept pupil who was turning his lesson around to bite him in the ass. Or more literally, the balls. Good thing Fox was no shy flower. “Lick it again, baby.” She fisted her hand around the base of his shaft and held him firmly, as she began to circle the head with her tongue. “That’s it. Now take it in that sweet mouth, Emma.” Her lips finally wrapped around the tip, then she began to take him in farther, surrounding him in wet heat. “Sweet God, Emma. Suck it, baby. All of it.” The head under his hand shifted as she tried to fulfill his wish. He felt her “mmm” around him as she took him deeper. The vibration nearly sent him rocketing over the edge. “Yeah. Oh…fuck.” He could feel the head of his cock pressing against the base of her throat. And those sexy little noises she was making. All that slick, moist heat surrounding him. “Emma, baby,” he warned her, “I’m too close. That mouth of yours is just too fucking good.” God, he swore he could feel her smiling around him. She kept moving over him, stroking, licking, sucking his aching cock, cupping his balls, gripping his hips. “Emma,” he warned again. “Baby…ah, Jesus, Emma. Fuck...” He went wild with pleasure. His hands tugged at her hair, and a deep grunt of satisfaction shuddered in the room as he threw his head back and surrendered. Sensation ruled as she sucked him dry. Shaking and fighting for breath, Fox could do no more than groan and murmur his appreciation as she licked him clean. When he found the strength, he pulled her up and captured her mouth in an urgent, demanding kiss. “That mouth, Emma. God, that mouth.”

72

Raven Fyre

With her arms wrapped around his neck, she pulled his mouth back down to hers for another urgent sip. “Make love to me, Fox.” “Yes, baby. I’m going to savor every luscious inch of you.” He maneuvered her toward the bed, stripping her of her jeans in the process. Then slowly he laid her back, and trailed his fingers along the line of her torso, grazing the damp V of pink silk covering her mound. “Ready for me, are you?” “Aching,” she admitted as her hips lifted in response to his caress. “I want you inside me, Fox. All of you.” “Soon, baby. I promise. But I’m going to taste you first.” His sly smile spread wide as he teased the silk off her hips, down her sleek, shapely legs, and tossed them over a shoulder. **** Emma shivered in delight at the feel of his slightly callused hands roaming along the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs as he parted her. His lips followed the path, spreading heat as his tongue grazed up the length of her slit. Jesus, he was licking her! Slurping her, if it came right down to it, Emma was stunned, thrilled, trembling all at once to realize. Then his crafty fingers were gently spreading her swollen nether lips, exposing her throbbing clit. He flicked the bundle of nerve endings with his tongue, nipped gently with his teeth. And the man thought her mouth was amazing! “You taste so sweet, Emma. So fucking good. You like that, baby?” “Yes. Oh, yes.” There wasn’t a shy bone left in her body, as Fox had dissolved them all. She held his head between her thighs, stroking, caressing as he drove her wild with those sharp little licks. Like flames eating at her center as his tongue plunged and swirled. “Oh, God. It’s so tight, everything inside feels so tight it, oh…Oh, yes, Fox, there. Right there. Faster.”

Sly Like a Fox

73

“Come for me, baby.” He kept up the torturous little circles on her clit with his tongue. Then his long, thick fingers were pushing inside her, stretching her, quickly working in and out of her. “Scream for me,” he demanded. “Let me hear you come, Emma.” Her head tossed wildly on the mattress as her hips arched beneath his glorious assault. His clever fingers fucked her pussy as he sucked gently on her clit. Desire swirled and tightened deep in her center, then the heat of it burst free, gushing like lava through her hips, her limbs, as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. And, oh yes, she screamed. She screamed his name, then chanted it over and over as he brought her slowly back with tantalizing licks to her quivering, dripping mound. Then he brought his lips up to hers again and she tasted the sweet, erotic flavor of her juices mixed with the bolder, intoxicating flavors she’d come to know as Fox. He brushed the damp curls from her cheeks, her temples, and smiled down at her. Candlelight danced and cast shadows over her body as if whispering of other secret places his lips had yet to taste. He caressed a breast, as if testing its weight. “Perfect,” he told her. “You fit perfectly in the palm of my hand. The tight little bud of your nipple.” Dipping his head, he swirled his tongue around it, nipping gently with his teeth. “Honey. Sweet as honey.” She cupped his head as he sucked at her nipple, hard, taking her to the sharply honed edge of pain. “Mmm…The other one, Fox. More.” Chuckling softly, he assured her. “Equal pleasure, baby.” “Fox? You really are good at this.” “Ah, Emma.” He nipped at her lower lip, then licked his own as if savoring the taste of her as his hand stayed busy on her breast. “Sweetheart. You are so genuinely refreshing.” “You know you make me weak. No one’s ever given me so much pleasure. I feel as if I’m drowning in it, Fox, and I’d just as soon not be saved. And I’m not too proud to admit you were right about talking dirty when we get down and dirty.”

74

Raven Fyre

He laughed. “I’m not always the most poetic man, Emma, but telling you how much I want you is easy. It’s even more arousing to hear that you like the things we’re doing, to hear what you want so I can please you. The first time…it was rough and hungry and—” “Wonderful,” Emma supplied. “I’ve never felt so…desired. This, now, it’s different, and yet, it’s just as wonderful.” She cupped his face in his hands, ran her thumb along his lips. “I love your eyes, Fox. They’re like melted pewter and so intense at times. It’s like you can look inside me and not just at me.” He captured one of her wrists and pressed his lips to her pulse. “I can feel your heart race when I touch you.” “It’s madness, Fox, the way it speeds out of control so that I can’t breathe. I’ve never wanted anyone this much. And I have another crazy confession.” His voice went hoarse and thick. “What’s that, baby?” “Your shaved head is just so incredibly sexy.” Her soft, light laughter bubbled up. “I just want to rub it all the time.” “I was undercover a couple years back, embedded with a cell we’d infiltrated and were trying to take down, and the shaved head, the tat, they were part of the persona.” He shrugged a shoulder. “After, well, I grew it back out but…this just feels more like me, I guess.” “Sleek, sly like a fox. It’s very Vin Diesel sexy, with all these yummy muscles.” She caressed his biceps as proof. “And the tat. Raw, earthy. God, you make me weak!” “You rub it all you want, sweetheart.” Teasingly, he nuzzled her nose with his. “Whatever you like.” Her hand journeyed low between them, wrapped greedily around his erection. “And this? Can I rub that any time I want?” “Emma, Emma. Quite the minx you are. Not what I expected from that prim and proper hostess covered in yards of fabric and looking like an angel.”

Sly Like a Fox

75

“Was that a complaint?” Her grip tightened ever so slightly as she pumped her hand up and down the velvety, hard length of his cock. He shook his head. “One hundred percent compliment. In fact, to quote this wonderful woman I know, ‘You really are good at this.’” “Only with you.” One of his infamous growls erupted as he claimed her mouth and shifted so that he was cradled in all her sumptuous warmth. “Emma. I want you to look at me, baby. I want to watch the way your eyes go hazy and dark when I slip inside you.” She cupped his face and locked her eyes on his silvery seas, feeling she could drown in them, in the pleasures he brought to her. She lifted her hips, seeking. “Take me, Fox. Let me feel you deep inside me.” His heavy girth pressed into her center, filling every inch of her, and she practically purred in satisfaction. The man was simply amazing, Emma just couldn’t deny. All those muscles weren’t just for looks, because baby, the man had moves. The way they bunched and spread, with each fluid stroke as perfect and long and deep as the last. He took his sweet time driving her leisurely, magnificently to the point where every fiber of her body was infused with him, in complete and total harmony with his. She was a puppet to the strings of desires, and Fox was the master of maneuvers. And his endurance seemed to be fueled by an infinite well of patience. She’d seen his control snap, nearly wept with pleasure the way the beast of his passion took over when he allowed it. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he could rein in those same desires, grip the heavy chains as if they were nothing more than silky ribbons, until she’d gone wild beneath him—not once, but twice. And they were working up to a third. Her system had never felt so gloriously battered. Wave after wave of warmth seemed to course through her as if she were caught in the deepest, widest ocean. Lapping at her hips over and over and over, rippling out over her entire body, until it pulsed with white-hot

76

Raven Fyre

delight. Her skin was flush and damp. Her nipples tingled. Her heartbeat felt as if it were centered between her legs. Candles flickered, the music looped on an endless shuffle. It could have been midnight or midday or the end of the world. For Emma, there was nothing but the man caught in shadows and soft light, towering over her, filling her. Completing her. “Emma, baby, I’m so close. I can’t hold back this time. It’s too intense, the way that sweet little pussy quivers and squeezes around me when you come.” Her hands spread down along the damp, sculpted slope of his back and gripped his gorgeous ass. “I can feel every ridge and bump of your thick, hard cock. The way you reach so deep, I feel it in my throat. Fox?” “Yeah baby?” “Will you let me feel it in my ass?” “Fuck.” His eyes closed as his forehead fell to hers. She knew he was trying so hard to hold onto those last, thin shreds of his control. Minx that she was, she enjoyed the heady notion of snipping those threads. “Jesus, Emma.” “Too honest?” She couldn’t help but giggle. “I want things with you that I’ve never even thought about before.” “Anything you want, baby. But we’ll have to stretch you first, take it slow, easy.” “Your specialty,” she quipped, her grip tightening on his ass, pulling him deeper, closer, as her grin grew wicked. As she wiggled her hips. “Mmm…Fox…I can’t stand it anymore. Please. Let go and come with me.” She was so close to coming again, every stroke coiling tighter and tighter inside her. The slick glide of his hard cock, the way he used his thumb on her clit while his hips rocked with hers. Another climax and she’d likely melt into the mattress. Her body was still on fire from the last two, and still she wanted more. Needed more. Needed to feel

Sly Like a Fox

77

him, to watch him lose that control and shatter, giving up a part of himself as helplessly as she had time and time again. Cupping her ass, he rolled with her so that she straddled him. His hands gripped her hips. “Make me.” The hard, swift, upward thrusts of his hips punctuated the challenge. “Take what you want, Emma.” “You, Fox. I only want you.” She reached up to cup her breasts, which felt heavy and wonderfully sore, and tweaked the sensitive nipples. Her hips swayed sinuously over his. Then her head fell back as need crested within her, need he stirred as he thrust higher, deeper. “Fox!” The orgasm sizzled through her system like lightning, searing clear to her bones, pulsing throughout her hips, slamming into her center and swirling Fox right along into the vortex. He bowed up, pressing their bodies together as they rocked through the storm. Then his fingers smoothed a path up her back, slithering into her hair and pulling her mouth down to his. Past sated, closer to damn near dead from the most intensely satisfying sex in her life, Emma snuggled into the curve of his body and gave over to the exhaustion. With Fox, she seemed to give everything she had, and then somehow, impossibly she’d find more. Every time he took her higher than she believed possible, only to surprise her by shoving her ever higher into bliss such as she’d never known. Every ounce of energy, emotion, passion she possessed seeped out of her body and into his. With heavy lids, she covered a yawn and smoothed her thigh over his. “I could stay just like this forever.” He stroked her hair, trailed his fingers over the curve of her shoulder, down the river of her arm and up again. “Stay,” she said. Her arm slid possessively over his torso. “Don’t leave me.” Stay. The room she’d prepared for him was just down the hall, but she wanted him in her bed, with her, within reach, through the night.

78

Raven Fyre

“Don’t leave me, Fox,” she murmured again, sleepily. Her breathing shifted into a deep, rhythmic pattern as sleep tugged her down, down into the void. Don’t ever leave me. Fox whispered to the moonlight, to the quiet of the room, as he held her. “Never.”

Sly Like a Fox

79

Chapter 7 It was still dark out when Fox pressed a kiss to the curve of Emma’s shoulder and slipped from the room. He needed to work up a good sweat that didn’t involve the woman who had him wrapped as tight as a cocoon around her sexy, little finger. The lake was a great spot, large enough to dive off the wide pier and enjoy a swim or to take one of the small boats out for a lazy day, and warm as a sauna, she’d said. Well, maybe he’d just have to enjoy a dip after he had a good hard run. He needed to think, to plan, and for that, he needed space, distance from Emma. Whether she knew it or not, she had him so tied up in knots that he didn’t know if he was coming or going. Lately, he’d been coming, and coming, and coming. God, the woman was incredible. He hadn’t meant for things to get so tangled where she was concerned. He’d only been after a taste. How was he to know one would never do? If there was anything more beautiful than the sight of her lithe, lush body, her smooth, creamy skin, or the way she pleasured herself while moving over him with those gracefully erotic dips and sways of her hips—if there was anything more beautiful than Emma steeped in pleasure, Fox had yet to lay eyes on it. She was potent, thrilling, inherently sensual—Emma. If there was anything more glorious than the feeling of being fused with her, than of having his throbbing hard cock inside her while those tight little muscles of her pussy surrounded him, pulsing

80

Raven Fyre

and aching in harmony with both their raging heartbeats, then he’d yet to feel it. Made exclusively for him, Fox mused. Emma had been made for him and him alone. He was more determined than ever to keep her. Later, he told himself. Now, he needed to focus in on the mission. He’d met with Tango before meeting Charlie and Gina for lunch the day before, so he had the cash. Now he had to focus on contacting the mark. The problem of the gate, the keypad, was no longer an issue. Emma had given him that the first night. So trusting. He might have to throttle her for that, later. But, that was her way, he was quickly coming to learn. Efficient. Sensible. She’d looked at him, into him, assessed, and in that mysterious way some women have of summing up a person or a situation in record speed, she’d decided to trust him. Taking the first curve of the land bordering the lake, Fox felt the muscles in his thighs take their stride. Breathing steady, taking in the fresh air, he pressed two fingers to his carotid artery. Heart rate, accelerated. Blood, pumping. Body, sweating. Oh, yeah, he’d needed this. And he needed a plausible excuse to be hanging around the lake when the uphill group decided to meander down for their allotted hours of afternoon fun in the sun. Even bats have to come out of their caves, Fox mused. No telling what they might get up to, publicly, when they did. Emma had cautioned him in sort of a buyer-beware manner, just in case things got a little risqué, so he was prepared for just about anything. He could see where the warm sun and the lure of the lake might entice them to take a dip sans their suits. That was nothing too off the cuff. Nothing he couldn’t handle and he was counting on using the opportunity to stage a casual, surprise brush with his old flame. His In.

Sly Like a Fox

81

Fitting, he decided, to use her, when she’d done nothing less to him. Fox normally preferred to think of himself as a man meting out justice rather than a mindless mule seeking what was by now ice-cold revenge. And still, a part of him wondered how he’d feel to see her taken down. Did that make him less of a warrior and more of a mercenary? Or did it simply prove he was human? Either way, he decided, with a shred of humanity, he really ought to thank the conniving woman. She’d saved him from making what he could now see was a horrible mistake and left him free to realize the wonder of a woman like Emma. Ah, Emma. Was she still lying naked, tangled in the sheets? Or was she up and busily going about her morning routine? Not that he had to check in with her, he told himself, or that he expected her to check in with him, but it would be prudent to see what she had on her agenda for the day. Then he’d tailor some excuse to be around between three and five. Maybe she needed a hand with some odd job around the property. Thinking just that, he bypassed the idea of taking a dip and cooled down by walking the last quarter mile to the cottage. Well, the questions of where she was and what she was up to were answered when he slipped in through the mudroom door and shucked his socks and shoes. Emma was putzying about in the kitchen, had coffee brewing while mixing up a batch of fresh blueberry muffins. Her hair was twisted up and off her neck in her tidy way that just begged for him to let it loose. Bright as sunshine, she glanced over her shoulder and beamed a smile at him with that pretty bow of a mouth. “Hungry?” “Yeah. You gonna feed me?” He nipped at the lobe of her ear, then grunted in stunned awe when she shoved an elbow into his solar plexus.

82

Raven Fyre

“Not just now. You’ll get me all sweaty.” “That usually happens when we’re together,” he reminded her. “Exactly. And I have errands to run. Later,” she promised. “Later, we’ll get as sweaty as you like. But I want to swing by the farmer’s market before Mr. Brewster’s best is picked over.” She slid the tray of muffins in the oven, set the timer. “I’ll leave these in the basket when they’re done, and you can help yourself after your shower.” “I don’t suppose you have anything I could put my back into around here or the boathouse?” “Looking to work off some frustration?” she teased. Refusing to take the bait, he quipped, “Something like that. I’m not used to vacations, to lazing about. I like to keep busy, and I’m good with my hands.” She laughed seductively. Then sobering, she informed, “I wouldn’t have a clue. When the usual staff is around, Harry Lewis is my all around handyman. He replaced a few shingles last month. He keeps up the grounds, handles the maintenance on the boats…But feel free to look around, tinker a bit. Whatever. Harry’s got enough tools and big-boy toys to start his own hardware store out in the boathouse.” “Just how handy is old Harry?” His voice was calm, but his eyes shifted to the shade of steel. Maybe he’d been off the mark about her experience. He kicked back against the counter with a cup of coffee, and she crossed to him and rose on her tiptoes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Harry’s a good man, Fox. With a lovely wife and a couple of grown children. He’s worked for my family in some capacity or another for close to thirty years. You’d like him. He’s a former military man as well, though I forget what branch.” Mollified, he slid his hand to the nape of her neck and pulled her in for a lingering kiss. “Emma, I know I have no right…but for as

Sly Like a Fox

83

long as we have, I won’t…” Ease up, man. Or you’ll have her teeth sinking into your ass. “I can’t think of sharing you.” “You have every right, in my book.” Leaning into his easy embrace, she pressed her hand to his heart. “Eyes wide open, Fox. I know you’re only here for a short time, but as long as I’m sharing my bed and my body with you, there’ll be no other.” “No other,” he promised as well, before setting his mouth on hers again to feast. Pulling back while he still could, before he tossed her over his shoulder and carted her upstairs, he asked, “When will you be back?” “Not before three, most likely.” She moved to the sink, rinsed her mug, and placed it in the dishwasher. “I’m having lunch with Gina. Then we have our book club meeting at the coffee shop around one. My cell number is on the little board in the mudroom. The calls here have already been set to forward if they should need anything up the hill. Oh and there’s makings for sandwiches in the fridge, if you’re around for lunch.” “Dinner?” He was grasping at straws and he hated it. Hated. It. Like the lovesick fool he was, he was already counting the hours until he’d see her again, hold her again. “I’m thinking pasta. Grandma Emma’s recipe.” She opened the cabinet by the stove, took out the bottle of olive oil, and held it up to the light to check the level. “Salad. Bread. I’ll see about picking up something special for dessert. How’s that sound?” Very domestic. The whole scene was very domestic. Very normal. He imagined just such a scene being replayed over and over, like a continuous loop in a favorite movie. Fox and his morning run. Emma in the kitchen, preparing their breakfast. Discussing the POD, the Plan of the Day, to his military mind. Going their separate ways, but planning to meet back for dinner and end the day together. A little wine and relaxation, then he’d carry her up to bed.

84

Raven Fyre

Perfect. He said as much, well, just the “perfect” part, then went out on a limb, in hopes that it would bear his weight. “Emma?” “Hmm?” she asked, distractedly, while searching through her purse. “Dishwasher detergent,” she muttered, writing it on the list she pulled out. Then hurriedly she scribbled down something else Fox couldn’t make out, adding a question mark he could see and then underlining it several times. “You ever think of settling down?” Fox asked. “Down. Yes, I just need to write these down.” “Marriage, Emma. The whole domestic scene?” Well, that snapped her head up. “What? I’m sorry. My mind…I was distracted. Thinking of desserts for dinner. Key lime pie? Maybe apple?” Ignoring her query over the preferred dessert for topping off Grandma Emma’s pasta, he asked, “Why haven’t you married some local guy and filled this place up with kids?” She blinked owlishly. “I, ah, well…no one’s ever asked.” He doubted it was as simple as that. “How slow are the men in this town? Are they all blind, or just stupid?” “You’re good for a woman’s self-esteem, Fox.” She laughed heartily. “Really.” “I’m serious.” Her brow furrowed as her laughter died away. He stood, starring at her, waiting. Wondering. “Maybe, I just haven’t found what I’ve been looking for.” She toyed with the pen in her hand, set it aside, and shoved the list in her purse. Was he making her nervous? He hoped he was making her more than nervous. He wanted her thinking, longing, yearning—all for him. “I’m not opposed to the idea, if that’s what you’re getting at,” she added when he kept his gaze locked on her. “My biological clock’s

Sly Like a Fox

85

not about to explode or anything. I figure I’ve got plenty of time. Children are a priority, you know, for that One Day everybody looks to. Well, maybe not everyone, but most people. And I can be a patient woman, when it counts. Marriage is a very serious step. So, I guess I’ve been content here, with the cottage, with my guests—in all their many forms…waiting.” His smile was thin, wistful, as he ran his thumb along the ridge of her collarbone. “Waiting…Emma Dupree’s been waiting. How’s that working out?” “Well.” She huffed out a breath. “Aren’t you just in a mood?” Brushing his hand away as if it were a pesky gnat, she moved to peek through the oven window. “I believe I hear the shower calling.” Strolling to the door, he stopped to call back over a shoulder, “Sure that isn’t your biological clock, sweetheart?” She made a strangled noise low in her throat, then looked about as if she were contemplating just what she was willing to ruin by throwing it at him. Obviously infuriated with him and with her fruitless search, Emma made another growling sound as he chuckled loudly and smugly sauntered out of the kitchen. The shower, indeed, was calling him. **** Like it or not, Fox had to give Harry credit. The man ran a tight ship. He’d plundered and nosed about for close to an hour before coming across an old lawnmower that wouldn’t crank. It would do, Fox decided, pushing it out to an area near the pavilion, under the shade of a couple old, sprawling oaks. Borrowing Harry’s tools, he set about testing the engine, the spark plug, and such. Tinkering. Biding his time. And he didn’t have to worry with either for long before several groups of uphill play mates trickled down to take a dip. Thankfully,

86

Raven Fyre

they were all dressed. Not a sliver of leather in sight. Miracles, Fox thought. Small miracles. He noted Emma’s return with a wave as she carted a bag into the house. When she came out again, she made a point of strolling over with a tray of iced tea and setting it on the table under the pavilion. Then he watched her, admiring her graceful moves and her easy manner, as she spoke to several of the guests, laughing lightly, chatting, always smiling and beaming that perpetual sunshine, Fox mused, while making her way toward him with a glass in hand. “Harry’s been working on this old thing for months,” she told him. “Thanks.” He accepted the glass and a quick kiss before taking a long, satisfying drink. “Well, I can tell you about a dozen things that aren’t wrong with it, but I’ve yet to figure out what is.” And now that he knew Handy Harry hadn’t diagnosed the bug, the damn thing became a new personal challenge Fox would just have to meet. “Did you enjoy your day?” “Yes. Lunch was lovely, and the book club is always fun. I mean I know it sounds geeky and boring, but we end up talking about so many other things. We’re an eclectic group of women, from all different backgrounds, so it gets racier than one would think. Kind of like a big pajama party.” Fox wondered at the tentative, reserved smile that tugged at her lips—so out of character for the animated woman he’d come to admire. Looking up at him through her lashes, she admitted, “But, damn it, Fox, I missed you.” Sweet, sweet Emma. “Did you now? I think I like that.” “You would.” She shook her head, laughing. “You’re such a humble man.” Not. “Well, now, what if I told you I missed you, too?” Her gaze narrowed on his, as if looking for a gage of the truth in a flinch or a flash of amusement in his expression. Tracing a nail over

Sly Like a Fox

87

his bicep, she countered, “You look like you could use another shower. I’d be happy to wash your back.” Shit. His cock jumped to attention at the idea of having her naked and wet and slicked with soap, those slippery, delicate hands all over his hard body. He had to make contact. Soon. “Just let me put these away.” He motioned to the tools and the riding mower. “Take your time. I’ll set the sauce to simmer and finish up some laundry from this morning.” Fox admired the gentle sway of her hips again as she walked back to the house. She flowed. That was all he could think. Working in the kitchen, strolling across the yard, she was graceful and poised. Moving beneath him, riding him, she was feline and fantastically alluring. Fluid and seductive, Emma Dupree had him by the throat, even when walking away. Since his mouth had gone dry as cotton, he swigged the last of the iced tea. Priorities, he had to remind. “Chris?” His gaze swept to the woman. Well. This was going to be far easier than he’d counted on. Playing his part to perfection, Fox grinned and acted pleasantly surprised. “Well, well. Ruthie Carlisle, what brings you to Florida?” Perching a manicured hand on her slender hip, she sent him a come-hither look. “I could ask you the same.” Let the game begin, Fox thought. The sooner he was done positioning his pawn, the sooner he could see to pleasing his queen. **** Emma indulged, pressing her face to Fox’s shirt. She’d washed it, and the rest of his things, after he’d peeled them off his glistening, rain-soaked body the night he’d arrived. Although she’d used her

88

Raven Fyre

usual brand of detergent and fabric softener, the fabric of the garment was still infused with his unique scent. Raw, earthy, male. Fox. She folded the garment, then added it to the pile she’d started with another of his shirts, his jeans, a few items of her own. Towels, bed linens, the usual fare for a household. It was no burden to throw his in when she’d been doing a load anyway. And no bother to see them put away, she thought, settling the basket at her hip as she took them up. Since she’d watched him unpack, she easily recalled which drawers he’d used for what. Underwear and socks in the first, shirts and pants in the second. He’d brought only a few changes of each and his running gear—for a limited stay, she calculated and tried not to be so damned disappointed. While balancing the basket, she pulled open the second drawer and the breath backed up in her throat. Staggering. She’d never seen so much cash. Stacked and banded like one would see in the movies. And organized in short, neat piles to one side of the drawer. Well. Without touching a single note, she put his clothes away and closed the drawer. Shoved it from her mind. Then she went to the bathroom closet to store the towels. She flipped the switch and was rewarded with the unmistakable pop of the filament in the overhead light. “Damn it.” Emma put the basket on the counter and went to the hall closet to retrieve a new bulb. The stepladder was downstairs in the mudroom, so she made the trip to retrieve it and came back up. After properly unfolding the contraption and locking the steps in place, she made the short climb up. She unscrewed the old bulb, then came down to toss it in the trash. Repeating the process, she screwed the new bulb in place, and having forgotten to set the switch back to the off position, it flickered to life while she seated it with the last few tightening twists. She

Sly Like a Fox

89

blinked quickly in reaction to the sensation of bulb-burn, that instant narrowing of her pupils to pinpoints. And when her vision cleared enough for her to feel safe climbing down, she stilled, blinking at the item lying on the shelf. Nearly staring her in the face. A very wicked-looking weapon. She’d seen enough CSI to know it was a Glock. The question of ownership was no question at all. Of course, it was Fox’s. It didn’t surprise her really, that he’d carry. A military man would always be armed, mentally and literally, she reasoned. But she was a bit unnerved to know the gun was in the house. Or more precisely, not knowing it had been in the house for the last couple of days. Emma found that particularly unsettling. Swallowing the thick coating of panic that had formed in her throat, she shimmied down from the ladder and turned smack dab into the wall of Fox’s chest. “Shit! Oh my God.” One hand flew to her chest while the other formed a terrified fist, and pounded on that firm muscular wall. “You scared me to death!” “Sorry, darlin’.” “Just let me find my breath. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Would you mind getting the ladder?” Without waiting for a response, she grabbed up the basket from the counter and started for the bedroom door. Fox beat her there, lounging against the frame, in that way he had of walling her in. “Emma.” She shot him a glance. “What?” He frowned, scrubbed a hand over his chin. “Want to tell me what you were doing in the closet?” Not particularly. “Well, let’s see. It’s my house,” she snapped, still sore over the idea he’d kept the gun a secret. The cash? She couldn’t care less about the money. “And seeing as how I was putting away my towels, in my closet, and my bulb blew, I changed it out.”

90

Raven Fyre

“And then you saw the gun. My gun,” he added, using her stressed inflection of the word, when she pointedly avoided mentioning it. “Yes. It was tucked up quite neatly on a stack of my towels.” His eyes narrowed on hers. “It doesn’t bother you?” “That you have it? No. This is the South, Fox. Most men drive pickups with gun racks. Nearly everyone I know has a shotgun, a couple rifles tucked away in one closet or another. Guns don’t scare me as much as the idiots aiming them do. I don’t consider you an idiot.” She dropped the basket on the bed, then sat on the edge, and crossed her legs. “I figure, with your background, you’re a damn fine marksman. What I don’t care for is the fact that you hid it. The fact that it’s been in my house since you arrived, and yet, I had no clue. While we’re on the subject of honesty, I’ll tell you, I put your clothes away. And I don’t give a shit how much money you have hidden in the drawer with your shirts. It was there, and like the gun, it’s yours. I didn’t lay a finger on any of it.” “It never crossed my mind you would. Nor did it cross my mind to tell you about the gun. My mistake. They’re both necessities of the business I handle, and I’m so used to carrying them around…it just never occurred to me.” Shoving away from the frame, he crossed to her and sat beside her on the bed. When he did, she angled her legs toward his in order to face him. “Especially the weapon,” he pointed out. “Since I put it up and out of sight, out of mind. And out of habit, it’s unloaded. The clips are stored in a separate hiding spot.” “Well, that’s good then. Would it have killed you to let me know you’d come in? You really did give me a scare.” “Sorry, darlin’,” he crooned and pulled her over into his lap. “Forgive me.” Sliding her arms around his neck, she nibbled at his lips, then ran one slender finger down his chest. “You know, I’m thinking…before

Sly Like a Fox

91

you sent my heart into shock, I was miffed that you hadn’t told me about having the gun. Now, well, you’ve apologized, but I’m not entirely certain your remorse is genuine. I’m just not sure you’ve learned your lesson.” “Really,” he said rather blandly. “I think it may take a little tough love to set you straight.” He chuckled at her sly grin. “You really should be punished.” At that, his eyes grew wide. And wider still as Emma shifted so that she sat straddling him. Her lips played over his, and she coaxed him to open for her with light, teasing licks of her tongue. His hands ventured under her shirt, and he pushed it up and off as she lifted her arms before letting them drift back to his shoulders. Then her bra was tossed, and her breasts were in his greedy hands. “Sweetheart, I hate to break it to ya’, but this isn’t what I would call punishment.” Feeling the bulge of his swelling cock, straining to be free of his jeans, she moaned and rubbed her hips seductively over his and loved the sensation on her damp slit. She brushed her thumbs over his nipples and returned the pleasure as he tweaked hers. “Not yet,” she offered. “But turnabout is about to be fair. That is, unless you’re afraid to take a dose of what you’ve dished out.”

92

Raven Fyre

Chapter 8 “A challenge?” Fox asked, incredulously. “Oh, baby, you know better.” Yes. She did. She knew exactly which buttons to push, and which to open. Reaching between them, she deftly worked the button of his fly, eased down the zipper, and slipped her hand in to palm his erection. She savored the idea of ruling him, as a deep moan erupted from his throat. Then she shimmied off his lap and stood to remove her jeans while he sat, watching her with such intensity she felt the heat. She inched them down over her hips, then off. Then, just as leisurely, she hooked her fingers in the tiny strips of elastic at her hips and shimmied out of the scrap of white lace and satin. “Emma, sweetheart, you are so beautiful. It takes my breath.” He stood and took a step toward her just as she took a step back in retreat. “Uh-uh. My turn to watch.” And watch she did as Fox treated her to the same, teasing show of shucking his jeans, then his boxer briefs, without the shimmy, of course, but the result took her breath just the same. “You have the most amazing body, Fox. And I know it just kills a guy to hear he’s beautiful, but truth is truth. Dress it up and call it rugged, chiseled, handsome, whatever. But none of them even come close to doing you justice, except beautiful.” She ran her tongue along the line of her pearly whites while admiring his physique, his blatant erection. “I wonder, under all that gorgeous muscle, just how tough are you, really, Fox?”

Sly Like a Fox

93

“You think I can’t handle whatever punishment that gorgeous brain of yours is cooking up?” “We’ll just see. Won’t we?” She ran her hands through her hair and, giving it a shake, smiled at the way his gaze narrowed on her in anticipation. “Kneel.” He flinched. Then he set his jaw and asked, “Bed or floor?” Ah, that was her man. “You’re just too tall for me, baby. Guess we’ll have to make it the floor.” He knelt and was rewarded as Emma took his face in her hands and brought her mouth to his for a lingering kiss. She licked the seam of his lips, then traced the spot with her thumb. “You’re too proud a warrior to ever bow to a woman, and I wouldn’t dare ask it. But I am gonna spank that ass.” “Fuck,” he murmured as his cock jerked in response. “Soon,” she promised, running her hand along his chest, his shoulder, as she circled him and stood behind him. “If you mind your manners.” Her palm met a cheek and caressed the sculpted flesh. “God, you have the most beautiful ass I’ve ever seen.” Then leaning in, she whispered into his ear, “You were a naughty boy, Fox. Keeping secrets. You deserve to be punished. Let me here you say you’re sorry.” He swallowed hard. “Sorry, baby.” Her palm moved to the other ass cheek, treating it in kind. “Good boy. Now tell me you deserve to be punished.” “I should be punished.” She gave him one, hard swat square on the ass. Circling him again, she stood, looking him dead in the eye. Then she pivoted slightly, giving him her profile, as she pulled her hair all to one side, then let it pour over her shoulder. “Spank my ass, Fox. And don’t be gentle.” “Emma, baby,” he pleaded.

94

Raven Fyre

Her glare was hot enough to melt glass, but her voice was cool as ice. “I said, spank me.” Obviously stunned, it took him a minute to process her request and do as she asked. But it was a pitiful effort, very half-hearted, Emma decided, which earned him another sharp retort. “Is that the best you can do?” He smacked her ass again, harder this time, eliciting a sharp cry. “Emma, baby…” “Again,” she demanded. She could see that his hand was shaking, but he did as she asked. Emma closed her eyes and took several deep breaths before opening them again and centering them on his. “Did you enjoy that?” “No, damn it. To be completely honest, I fucking hated it. There was no pleasure in this, Emma.” She would’ve agreed but thought it best to keep silent a bit longer. “This was nothing even close to the first time. No pleasure, no heightened arousal. Only pain.” Yes, Emma mused. Pain. His and hers. “Then I suppose you’ve found your remorse, haven’t you, baby?” Bringing his head to her breast, she held him there while he wrapped his arms around her, gripped her like a vise. **** “Jesus, Emma. I don’t know what to do with you.” She turned him inside out, upside down, and sideways. And she had certainly made her point. Physically and emotionally, she’d brought him to his knees. Another place no other woman had ever taken him. There just was no accounting for a woman like Emma. Why was he even surprised by her unconventional manner? Fox had to wonder. Any other woman, any other person, might’ve been scared to death of a stranger having a weapon within a hundred feet of where they were sleeping.

Sly Like a Fox

95

But no, not Emma. She hadn’t ranted and raved at him about the weapon or cared one iota about all the cash he’d stashed in the drawer. She hadn’t asked one single question about why he had them. No, she’d simply fussed that he’d startled her damn near to death when she’d turned on the ladder and found him there. Then she’d casually gone on about her chores. Complete trust. That was Emma’s way. As if that weren’t enough, she’d turned this whole damn thing around on him and caused him such devastating, utter physical pain at the reality of hurting her, he wanted to scream! God, she was going to kill him when the lies, the other secrets came out. But it couldn’t be helped. He would suffer again and again if it kept her safe. Her laughter was clear, sharp. “Oh, I think you know exactly what to do to make it up to me.” “I’ll apologize ‘til you scream for mercy.” Easing back, he gently circled her throat with his hand and pulled her in so that there was nothing more than a breath between them. “Don’t ever expect me to spank you like that again. Don’t dare ever ask it. Hurting you, Emma, that damn near ripped me into shreds.” “I’m sorry, baby.” Standing, he picked her up so that her legs were wrapped around his waist and carried her to the bed. Gently, he laid her back. And thought of laying the foundation for what was to come. “There’re all kinds of secrets, Emma. Those little white lies we tell to cushion another’s feelings. Lies of omission when they serve a greater purpose. Blatant lies to keep yourself or someone you care about alive. And sometimes a man finds that he’s told so many lies, for so long, the lines of distinction become blurred with the truth.” Leaning over her, he feathered his fingers into her hair, brushing it back from her temples. “Life’s not cut and dry, Emma. There’re so

96

Raven Fyre

many shades of gray between the black and white. Lies, omissions. I’d never intentionally hurt you, baby, unless it kept you safe.” “Ever the warrior’s heart. You’re a proud man, Fox.” She slid her hands sinuously over his arms, caressing, moving up to knead his biceps, as she worked her way closer. Circling his neck. “But I was wrong to call you arrogant, even in anger.” He started to speak, but she pressed a finger to his lips. “Impatient. Stubborn. Those I’m not taking back.” She smiled softly. “But you aren’t a selfish man, Fox. And arrogance is far more selfish than pride borne of honor. You’re an honorable man. With more heart than people see at first glance. Maybe, more than you want people to see.” He wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about her pegging him so succinctly. She pulled him down to her and replaced her quieting finger with her giving lips. Fox let his troubling thoughts melt away and savored the sweet, honeyed flavors of her mouth while teasingly stroking the flesh of her inner thighs. He brushed his fingers over her wet mound with feather light strokes which left her panting and quivering, begging for more. “Magic, wicked hands, Fox. I want them everywhere, all at once.” Taking her by surprise, he gripped her hips and gave her a quick flip so that she lay on her stomach. “I’m going to kiss the hurt, Emma.” She wiggled in anticipation. “Mmm…see, you do know exactly what to do to me.” His hands glided up and over her creamy skin from ankles to knees to thighs, cupping and caressing the firm, supple cheeks of her ass. Then his lips replaced his hands with hot, open mouth kisses. A lick here, a nip there. He worked his way up the smooth slope of her back, brushing her hair aside to kiss her nape, and delighted in all the little whimpering purrs and breathless moans she made.

Sly Like a Fox

97

“Fox?” “Yeah, baby.” “I want that cock in my ass.” There was a very pregnant pause. Finally, he spoke. “Only if you’re sure, baby.” Shifting, she glanced back at him, cupped her hand to his hip, and pulled his hard cock against her thigh. “Every last inch of you.” “Fuck.” He gripped her hair, pulling her impossibly closer and taking her mouth as urgently as he wanted to take her body. “You get me so fucking hard, Emma. Just the thought of having my cock in your ass makes me damn near ready to explode. I’ll try to be gentle. You have to promise to tell me when it hurts, when it’s too much. We have to work up to it, baby.” “I’m putty in your hands,” she murmured on a shaky breath as he rolled her again to her back. A gasp escaped her when he caught her under the knees and pulled her down to the end of the bed. Kneeling, he hooked a smooth, shapely leg over his shoulder. And set his mouth on her. Licking the seam of her wet mound, he parted the delicate folds and nibbled on her swollen clit. Then his tongue lapped up her sweet juices, plunging into her pussy, teasing, stringing her up to reach the first sharp climax. Loving the sounds of her pleasure, the taste of her passion, the way his name slipped breathlessly from her lips when she came. **** Fox took her up and over a second time with his clever mouth sucking at her clit and two thick, magical fingers hammering into her pussy until she screamed. Then he eased her back on the slow, slick glide of his tongue.

98

Raven Fyre

He had her shaking, had her skin on fire. She was a bundle of quaking nerves that had been frazzled to the raw edge with overwhelming delight. And it was only going to get better. “Roll over, baby, and I’ll be right back.” Floating on the gilded edges of bliss, she wordlessly complied. She heard the open and close of a drawer, then felt the mattress dip as he came back to her, felt the warm press of his lips on her nape. “Mmm…I love it when you kiss me there. It sends little shivers all along my spine, right straight to my pussy.” “Ease up on your knees, baby.” She did. “Slow and easy, baby. I don’t want to hurt you.” She felt his firm hands as he spread her ass cheeks wide. Felt the cool rush of air over her exposed, forbidden hole. He licked it. Startled by the forbidden, unexpected pleasure, Emma flinched, letting out a deep moan. “Fox! Oh, God.” “You like that, baby?” The scent of berries drifted to her. “I picked up a bottle of lube, when I got the condoms. I’m gonna rub some on that tight little ring, sweetheart. You just try to relax, and let me know if it hurts.” She felt the cold, wet liquid, the gentle press of his thumb as he pushed it in the first scant inch. “Mmm…no. It’s…ah, oh yeah, that’s good.” Instinctively, she tightened the muscles of her tight channel around his thumb, milking it, trying to draw it in farther. “Relax, baby. If we don’t get you good and stretched, it’ll hurt too much. And I want you to enjoy it.” “Believe me, I am.” Emma felt more of the cool lube being smoothed over her skin, felt the slight burn of his finger pushing deeper then pulling out. Then there was more fullness, more pressure as he went for two heavily lubed fingers, circling and scissoring to stretch her. The unfamiliar,

Sly Like a Fox

99

full feeling of having something in her ass wasn’t at all as unpleasant as she’d been afraid. His patience, his gentling words, soothed. Relaxing, she felt her body loosen, felt her inner muscles accept and give. She trusted him, unequivocally, to stop if she said stop, to wait if she put on the brakes, and that made all difference. It allowed her to open up as she had with everything else, giving another part of herself as she had with no other. “It’s different. It feels so much more…intense.” And it had the need building in her again. Feeling his fingers moving in and out of her, imagining all that thick, hard girth of his cock replacing those fingers, had her pussy so wet she could feel the damp trail snaking along her inner thighs. Fox must have sensed it, as he brought his free hand to her mound and tested the sheath with his fingers. “You are so wet, baby. I have to feel that hot pussy around my cock. I’m gonna put a plug in your ass, then I’m gonna fuck that pussy, Emma. Slow and easy, baby. You just let me know if it hurts.” “Oh, God.” She took a deep breath as she felt the pressure of the lubed-up plug being pushed past the first tight ring of muscles and then further, into her channel. The plug was filling her, not as deep as she imagined Fox’s cock reaching, but the sensation was intense, wonderfully intense. “Oh God, that feels good.” “Yeah? Ready for more?” “Yes. Oh God, yes.” Holding her hips, he eased just the head of his cock into her pussy, letting her body adjust to the unfamiliar feeling of having both channels filled. “Oh God, Fox…I can’t describe it. Everything’s just so full, so tight, so intense. All of you, Fox.” She felt him enter her fully, felt the plug in her ass move in tandem with his thrust. Oh, God, yes. “Harder, baby.” Emma arched

100

Raven Fyre

her back and gripped his thigh as he pounded her pussy with all his girth, letting his balls slap her swollen, aching clit. “Fox! Oh God, I’m so close to coming again.” She shook her head as if to deny it, to hold it back. The pleasure was almost too much. It was so much more intense than anything she’d ever experienced. Her inner muscles began to contract in pulsing waves, but she tried to fight it. Curving an arm around her waist, Fox flicked at her clit and urged her on toward release. “Just let go, baby.” But she bucked, shaking her head. “I don’t want to come without you.” “It’s okay, baby. I’ll pull out before you take me over. Then I’ll give it to you in the ass and make you come again.” Jesus! Could she survive another orgasm? She was beginning to have her doubts. Each one took her higher, harder. Each rippled through her system with more intensity than the last. Unable to continue fighting the sensations he’d stirred to yet another new place she’d never dreamed reaching, Emma felt her body splinter into a million searing hot pulses of bliss. Hell, she went blind, as spot burst in front of her eyes, and every fiber of her body simply came undone. If Fox hadn’t been holding her up, she would have melted and poured right off the edge of the bed. As it was, she was chanting his name, rocking her body against his. When he pulled out, her pussy felt empty, clutching the ghost of him. She whimpered and swayed on her knees while the muscles of her ass contracted frantically around the plug. “Easy, baby. I’m going to take the plug out now.” He eased it out with care. She could feel his hot shaft, still slick from her juices, sliding between her ass cheeks, up and down the cleft, as he let her bones resolidify. Let her find her breath. “Fox, I…I don’t think I can.”

Sly Like a Fox

101

“Yes, you can. Just relax and let me love you.” She smelled a fresh infusion of berries as he added more of the lube to her opening, rubbing it around. Then he held the base of his cock with one hand while spreading her ass cheek with the other. She felt the velvety head of his cock pressing against her tight ring. “Just relax,” he crooned again. “I promise to take it easy.” Wiling herself to relax, to breathe, she nodded and braced herself for his penetration. “I know you will, baby. Go ahead.” There was pressure but surprisingly little pain as he began to enter her. Apparently, the little plug had done its job. Thank you, God. He pushed farther, past that first, tightest clutch of muscles, then a couple inches more. And stopped. So much, so thick, was all Emma could think. So much more than his fingers, more than the plug—just as she’d imagined—his cock was stretching her wider, pushing deeper. “God, Emma. Oh, baby I can’t describe how wonderful that is. Fuck!” He laughed out the curse as she teased him with a few quick squeezes of her inner muscles, trying to pull him in deeper. “It’s incredible, baby. More,” she demanded. “All of it.” He pulled out only to ease right back in and go another couple inches deeper while she bucked and wiggled, trying to take even more. “Greedy minx.” “Give it to me, Fox. All of it.” He wrapped her hair around his wrist like a silken cuff, gave it a gentle tug as he pushed in deeper. With every hard, huge inch of him finally buried inside her, she contracted around him, clenching, releasing. Clenching. Releasing. “Emma!” Gripping his hip, she worked her ass on his cock, rocking to meet his rhythm as their bodies slapped together. “I can’t,” she said again as her head fell forward. Apparently, she could. “Oh, God. Harder, Fox. Faster!”

102

Raven Fyre

Holding her hips, he let himself go and drove them both into oblivion. Grunts, moans, sated sighs, screams. Hers. His. They meshed as fluidly as their bodies. Emma held him to her, felt her pulses milking him, felt his hot cream fill her ass. Then she slithered forward, stretching out on the bed as if she were one very satisfied feline. Because, well, she most definitely was. Fox lay beside her, face up, eyes closed. “I think, just for a moment, I saw God.” “Was she lovely?” Emma teased. He laughed. “We need a shower.” She all but purred as she scooted closer to him and licked a nipple. “A shower. Dinner. How do you feel about Key lime pie?” Opening one eye, he looked at her. “I’m a fan. Especially if I’m licking if off your body.” She laughed. “Maybe we should just skip dinner and go right to dessert.” “I’m flexible.” He jumped up, snagged her about the waist, and carried her while she wrapped herself around him. “Come on, baby. Shower time.” Her trilling, light laugh quickly turned to gasp of surprise as he stepped under the spray, slipping into her as he shoved her back against the wall. **** Fox was truly coming to despise this mission. For the second morning running, he’d had to leave a perfectly warm bed and the arms of a perfect, warmer woman. He’d taken her in the shower. Then, taking her at her word, he’d taken her on the dining room table after licking dessert—Key lime pie and lots and lots of whipped cream—off her scrumptious body. She’d been so kind as to return the tantalizing favor.

Sly Like a Fox

103

Another shower, and finally they’d gotten around to a late dinner before practically crawling to the bed. Sleeping together, in a tangle of hard lines, soft limbs, one invariably woke the other with kisses and gentle caresses. Gentle quickly turned to urgent and ended with them fused, whispering sighs, whimpering urges, finding fulfillment in the darkest hours before dawn. He’d made love to her so many times during the night he’d lost count. It was a wonder he could walk. He’d never felt better. And he wanted this fucking mission to be over. The only way to get what he wanted was to leave Emma and scout out his mark. He’d set his hook. It was time to reel in his catch. Ruthie had agreed to meet him near the pavilion before six with the goods. He removed the banded stacks of cash from the drawer and put them in a small duffel he had stashed inside the larger one. From the closet, he retrieved his Glock, and from another drawer, a clip of ammo. Then he slid them together with one, deft click before tucking it into the waistband of his jeans, right at the snug of his lower back. He left his T loose to cover the bulk. A glance at his watch confirmed the time. Stepping out to the screened back porch, he took out his cell and gave Tango the call. “We’re a go. ETA for the mark, ten minutes.” Tango responded, “I’ll have my team in place within five.” He’d been sitting on go since five a.m., keeping his system buzzed on sugar and caffeine. “Foxtrot has the lead,” he confirmed. “Tango out.” **** Because she woke wanting him, Emma found her mood instantly turned sour. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was alone in the bed and aching to be fulfilled and everything to do with the fact

104

Raven Fyre

that she hated feeling as if the measure of her happiness was weighed by her desire for a man. Not just any man. Fox. Stupid, Emma. To be so tangled up in the man was just a fool move on her part. Love him, yes. But allow his absence to affect her mood? That was just stupid. Bordering on pathetic. Her mind kept drifting back to their discussion of Handy Harry. Fox had—dare she think it—actually sounded jealous when she’d mentioned her handy man. She couldn’t help but revel in the notion he might be, but she just wasn’t the sort of woman to use that weakness against him, not when it came to as serious an issue as fidelity. Not that they really had a relationship, or not a conventional one by any standards, she had to remind herself. What she felt for him went far beyond the bonds of mutual, sexual gratification. But that did not mean he felt the same. That she’d lost her heart to this stranger who she felt as if she’d known all her life was again, her problem. She couldn’t expect him to trust her so completely just because she’d placed such faith in him. And what of his comments about the men in Owl’s Run and her not being married? Had he really been serious? He’d certainly looked it, with the way he’d looked into her in that immensely intense way he had that made her insides stand at attention. It had been just about the most bizarre conversation she’d ever had. Strike that, Emma mused. Since meeting Fox, everything seemed to be askew in her normally quiet, calm, little world. She’d have to work on compartmentalizing her feelings, as Fox had. Charla seemed to be the expert in that field, dealing with men and her desires rather diplomatically. But then, as she’d reasoned before, when had she ever wanted to put her emotions into neat little boxes so she could store them away? Emma reflected. Shit. Never.

Sly Like a Fox

105

What good was there in loving him if it didn’t hurt? That would simply lower him back to the standards of all the other men she’d ever been with. Dull. Painless. Barely worth mentioning. Not a place for Fox Gannon. So, then, what was a girl to do? It was no more ridiculous for a woman to be led around by the whims of her aching pussy than it was for a man to be led by the whims of his throbbing cock. She despised such a quality in a man. She refused to nurture such a quality in herself. Guess she’d just have to meet him on some mutual ground where neither led the other. Where they could just come to terms on equally shaky ground, with equally aroused needs. Speaking of aroused. Where was the sexy hunk, anyway? Naked, she wrapped the loosed bed sheet around her, went to search him out, and was surprised when she didn’t stagger. They’d enjoyed each other in so many ways, so many times during the night that she felt the sudden need to pinch herself. If she did say so herself, her skin held a lovely, healthy glow that radiated from the inside out. Two steps down on the main staircase and she saw him. Those smoke gray eyes of Fox’s locked on hers as his long, brawny body stalked up the treads. All that strength mixed with agility never failed to make her heart stutter. But those eyes, not smoke, it finally registered, but dark, dark as thunder. Something was not right. “Emma. Sweetheart.” Fox rushed to meet her, reached out and gripped her shoulders, and all but picked her up and moved her back up the treads. “There’s been…an accident. A drowning, it would seem. One of your guests from the society. Remember the blonde?” Fucked up the ass, chained to the chair, lovely, pert blonde?

106

Raven Fyre

When she didn’t respond, he gave her a light shake. “Listen to me, Emma. Emma!” She seemed to snap back, blinking as if to clear her mind as she looked at him. “You need to get dressed. I’ve already called the police.” Screaming sirens, faint and growing louder by the second, punctuated his statement. “Shit. Just get dressed, baby, and come down.” He stamped a kiss on her lips. “But I don’t want you going outside or talking to anyone. Not without me. Emma?” In a silent, dreamlike state, she nodded, and he rushed back down the stairs. Then she turned, went back to her room and somehow managed to pull herself together. Her mind, however, seemed to be pulled in every possible direction. She couldn’t help but have half a million questions. Why didn’t he want her talking to anyone? This was her home, her business. The woman, the dead woman, she gulped, was her guest. Her eyes flew to her reflection in the bathroom mirror. “Shit,” she mumbled, pressing her palms on the counter as her head fell forward, and her stomach pitched. “The woman. Jesus, Fox.” He’d known her.

Sly Like a Fox

107

Chapter 9 Shaking her head, Emma took several deep breaths, gathered her scattered wits, and twisted her hair up off her neck. She brushed her teeth, then dusted on a light covering of cosmetics. Normal, routine tasks to calm her racing heart, her fluttering pulse. The rolling tide in stomach could not be so easily assuaged. Dressing was another of those mindless tasks. Just jeans and a feminine, tailored oxford in pale peach. Her complexion was now bordering on ghostly, and the pastel color probably made her skin look even more washed out, but damn if she could muster the wherewithal to care. Despite her calm appearance, she never realized when she put on only one earring, two mismatched but similar enough sandals or that she’d put on nearly an entire tube of gloss while absently swiping her lips over and over as her thoughts tumbled into a void. He knew her. Fox knew her. Fox knew the dead woman. Her mind snapped to as quickly as if she’d flipped a switch. Maybe he was rubbing off. She knew Fox. Her Fox. Emma knew the real Fox deep, deep down inside, beneath the tough exterior. Thankfully, she caught her crazy slip and changed her shoes, then blotted her overly slicked lips. Still a little stunned, she took the stairs down to the kitchen as if traversing a jagged mountainside. Very, very carefully. Fox, bless him, had coffee brewed and waiting. A mug and the carton of cream sat on the counter by the maker. But he was nowhere to be found.

108

Raven Fyre

No going outside, he’d also said. He was obviously trying to protect her. However, it wouldn’t do to set the precedent that she was just going to blindly obey him. Well, outside of the bedroom, that is. He could and had dominated her there, but then that had been her choice. For their mutual pleasure. And he’d allowed her to rule him in turn. So, there, they were still on mutual ground. That level keel was exactly where she planned to keep things. If she wanted a life with him beyond these few nights of phenomenal sex, and oh, how she did, he’d need to accept her for all that she was. Otherwise, they didn’t stand a chance. The new and improved Emma Dupree, thanks to Fox’s awakening—the irony did not escape her—was not a meek-mannered woman who would keep her mouth shut and do as she was told. Her home, her guest, she reflected again. And she was determined to get to the bottom of it all on her terms. It stood to reason that if the woman had drowned, then the activity would be centered on the lake. The aroma of the freshly brewed coffee pulled at her, but determination and the very basic notion of curiosity was stronger. Later, she told herself and headed out to the back porch. Bull’s-eye. Several police-issue SUVs were scattered around the property, the concentration being the pavilion and the pier. Uniformed officers milled about by the dozens. An ambulance. A large van labeled Crime Scene Unit. Medical personnel. Forensic technicians. Ah, yes, and Owl Run’s esteemed police chief, the only other man in sight standing toe to toe in height and build with Fox. Paul Carter was a harsh-looking man, in a sexy way—broody, tough exterior—much like Fox, Emma couldn’t help but compare. That went back to the mystery of chemistry, of why one man made a woman weak while the other she simply admired as another goodlooking male.

Sly Like a Fox

109

They looked…comfortable with one another, Emma observed. Odd, perhaps, but then that was her impression. And her intuition was rarely, if ever, wrong. Was it that they literally saw eye to eye? Neither would be intimidated by the other’s size or domineering presence, on that she’d bank her business. “Great,” Emma whispered to the morning. He’d glanced up, as if he’d sensed her staring at him, and now Fox was coming over. And her impression here? He was pissed. Well, good. This was as good a time as any to put her foot down. “Emmaline Dupree,” he snapped. His tone was harsh, scolding. “Didn’t I tell you not to come out here?” “You most certainly did. I was naked but for a sheet and was stunned stupid by the fact that I woke up wanted you so badly I could taste it, but you weren’t in the bed. And then you were actually there, and you had your hands on me. I was weak and aching and thinking about you making love to me. Then you dropped the bomb of my having a dead guest and started ordering me about. But, yes, I believe I do recall you mentioning something about it.” She swiped at a couple of stray tendrils that caught on the breeze, tucking them behind her ear before settling her fists on her hips. “And, let’s just back this truck up, right here and right now, Christopher Gannon.” The way she used his given name was another weapon she wielded in twisting her point home. “You may have me on my knees and begging for whatever you feel so inclined to dole out when I’m naked and blind with wanting you, and in the privacy of our bedroom, but here, full light of day, this is my business. My home. My guest. Owl’s Run is my community.” She perched her hands on her hips and drew in a gulp of air. Her chest was heaving, and she had no doubt of the temper that was likely flashing in her eyes but could control neither. The whole damn situation had her worked up, had her system perilously close to overload. “This is my problem, and I’ll be the one talking to Chief Carter.”

110

Raven Fyre

Fox stood for a moment, staring, eyes narrowed on her form. Then he grinned devilishly as he lowered his voice. “Jesus, Emma. You’re so damned gorgeous when you get your mad on. If we were alone, I’d take you over my knee and spank that gorgeous ass ‘til you begged me to fuck it.” “Don’t you dare try to sweet talk me,” she warned. Because, Jesus, please, they both knew how weak it made her, when he put his mind to it. “You just save that for later. Right now, I’m going to talk to the chief about my dead guest.” When the reality of that hit, her legs got a bit wobbly, and she sank right down to the porch step, landing flat on her ass. “Well, shit. Holy hell, Fox.” “I know, baby. I know. But there’s no way around it. Emma, sweetheart, we have to talk.” His voice took on a sharper edge. “And it needs to be now. Before you talk to Carter.” As discombobulated as she was, she missed the way he called the chief Carter, with such familiarity. There was only this, this and Fox. “I have no intention of mentioning the money. Or the…other.” Fox looked at her, long and hard. “Why?” Swallowing hard under the scrutiny of his glare, those eyes that had gone to silvery slits, she asked, “Is it relevant? For the Chief, I mean. The woman drowned, right? You had nothing to do with that.” Even though she believed it with all her heart, just bringing it up had her stomach doing another funny somersault. “She could have been stabbed then dumped. She could have OD’d,” Fox pointed out. “Hell, she could have been shot before she was tossed in the lake. We won’t know the details ‘til the medical examiner is done.” None of the options were easily digested. To think of such brutality only further cemented her belief in Fox’s innocence. “It won’t make a difference how she died, Fox.” Defiantly, she crossed her arms over her torso as she rocked slightly. “I don’t believe you had anything to do with it.”

Sly Like a Fox

111

“But I’ve had time. Opportunity. You yourself gave me the gate code. I know all about the secret room. The acts going on up the hill. Access to the house, the grounds. Everything. Don’t forget, Emma. I knew the woman. That goes to motive.” Why was he doing this? She believed in him. It would just be easier if he trusted her without so many damned questions. “But you couldn’t have killed her, Fox. You just couldn’t have!” “Ah, but, sweetheart, you’ve seen my strength. Hell, you’ve seen every inch of my body. I could snap you in two. Drowning a woman would be a cinch.” “Strength has nothing to do with it, Fox.” Reaching out to him, as he’d come to be on his haunches in front of the steps where she’d landed, she cupped his face in her hands. “You simply aren’t capable of cold-blooded murder. No.” The flash of denial, she watched it zip through his eyes, headed on a path for his lips. It riled her anger something fierce. Hell, it fucking pissed her off. She knew exactly what was going on in that mind of his. “Secret missions. Government-ordered killings. Whatever. We both know you haven’t led the life of a choirboy, Fox, but those are different from this in so many ways. Besides, when it comes down to the heart of it, I’ve seen the way you look at me when you make love to me, felt the way your hands caress my body. Your hands may be deadly, Fox, but they’re also filled with so much kindness, tenderness.” “Emma.” He drew the word out. She shook her head as if her name had been used as further denial. “No one’s ever made me feel the things you make me feel. And it’s more than just when we damn near fuck each other to death. More, even, than when you make me weep from loving me so tender my bones simply dissolve. Say what you want. Deny what you need to, if it helps you face yourself in the mirror. In a few days, or years, it doesn’t matter how long we’ve known each other because I feel as if I

112

Raven Fyre

know you better than I know myself. And I know the Fox that’s deep down, in there.” She pressed her palm to his heart, kept it there, and savored the wild, erratic beat that was in perfect harmony with her own. “The man I love could never do this.” There was no intuiting his stoic expression, the clear, unblinking stare that penetrated her soul. But he closed his eyes as he shook his head, and then laid it in her lap so that his forehead rested on her knees. She cupped his head and just held him as he whispered her name like a helpless chant. When he finally looked up at her, she saw it. As clearly as if it were her own, she could see it. Feel it. The sadness, deep, deep wells of sadness. Well, it was a close enough cousin to rejection that tears burned behind her eyes. “Fox,” she whispered. He just shook his head again and gripped her knees. “Oh, God, Emma.” Then he stood and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’ve lied to you, baby. About so many things. Not just the money and the gun. I’m not at all who you think I am.” If he had slapped her full in the face, she’d have been no less shocked. Lied. Not at all who you think I am. After all they’d been through, after…No. She couldn’t stand to rehash it, to sit here and rip her own heart out. Shoving up from the steps, she retreated to the landing of the porch and kept her eyes locked on his. When he made a move forward she took an equal step back and held up her hand. “Please, Emma. This isn’t at all how I wanted this to go down.” Her thoughts exactly. “I can explain, Emma. I will, but I doubt it’ll make a difference when everything boils down. I know that, but you still deserve the truth, and I…Shit. There isn’t the time just now, baby. I have to get back to Carter.”

Sly Like a Fox

113

Her tone was cold as ice, as glacial as the current temperature of the blood sluggishly making its way through her nearly frozen heart. “Keep your damned explanations. And get the hell off my property. And do not, ever, ever, call me baby, or anything else for that matter, ever again.” With that, she summoned the wherewithal to walk down the steps, smoothly stepping around his towering form, and cross the yard. Meandering through the sea of uniformed humanity, she found Chief Paul Carter. “Emma.” Carter nodded. Damn him, Fox had been fast on her heels. His long, purposeful stride ate up the ground, bringing him to stand at her side before she could even get a word out. And when she did, she asked, “Chief Carter, would it be possible for one of your officers to escort Mr. Gannon from the premises?” He choked back a cough that sounded strangely close to a chuckle, a sound that earned him a glaring reprimand from one Miss Emmaline Dupree. “Now, Emma. I don’t think that’s necessary.” Incensed, perplexed, still she stood her ground. “It’s entirely necessary. This is my property. If you need to hold Mr. Gannon for questioning, or whatever”—she waved a hand through the air—“then please do so on your turf. I want him off the grounds of Pheasant Lake. Immediately.” “Shit, Fox. What’ve you done?” Now she was outraged. Seething. Looking from one to the other, she waited—far too patiently. More patiently than either of them deserved, she decided. “One of you’d better tell me what the hell is going on. Now!” God, these men were going to make her blow her top. Carter snapped to as if he’d been struck by the wrath of God. Or one sexy, sassy, brunette goddess. “Let’s, ah, take this inside,” he suggested. “Fine.” She turned on her heel and stalked toward the house.

114

Raven Fyre

Well ahead of the men, and so angry that she was oblivious to their conversation, Emma headed straight into the kitchen and poured the cup of coffee she’d never gotten to. It gave her something to do to try to steady her hands. Hopefully, the caffeine would do the same for the rest of her frazzled system. **** Carter followed Fox across the yard, murmuring under his breath, “Fucked that up, royally.” “Shut the fuck up, Carter. You just have no idea. Shit.” Fox smoothed a hand over his head. “And damn it, neither does she. I’ve had to lie…and, ah, hell. Forget it. I don’t have the time to go into it. Just shut the fuck up, and let me do the talking.” “Oh, you better believe I’m gonna let you run this little sideshow.” Carter snickered. “I’ve never seen sweet little Emma Dupree so riled up. Whatever you’ve done…Shit, Fox. That woman is ready to have your fucking head on a platter.” “Yeah,” Fox said with distain. “Royally fucked. That’s me.” **** In the kitchen, Emma chose to pace over taking a seat at the table. There was just too much pent-up anger inside her that needed to be walked off, and seeing as she couldn’t very well go for a walk around the lake, pacing and prowling around the perimeter of the spacious kitchen was the next best option. Having it out with Fox was going to be painful enough. She’d give anything not to have Chief Carter as a witness to her temper or her humiliation. No chance of that. So… In strolled the man she wanted to throttle, with his new little buddy in tow. Maybe she should just throttle them both. As it was,

Sly Like a Fox

115

they’d only made it a step or two inside the door when the beast of her frustration snapped free. “Answers,” she demanded. “Now. And every single, solitary word that rolls off that”—glorious, she’d very nearly said glorious—“glib tongue of yours, Christopher Gannon, it had better be God’s truth. God’s truth. Or so help me…” “She’s even prettier when she’s angry.” Carter may have intended for his words to be whispered to Fox, but Emma heard him loud and clear. Seeing the gleam of amusement in his eyes, she threw up her hands. “Men! Can you be serious, here? Jesus, Carter, you’re as pigheaded as Fox.” “Feisty, too.” This time, Carter made no effort to whisper. “I gotta say you surprise me, Miss Emma. This is a side of you I’ve just never seen.” “Yes, well, you can thank Fox for that.” A sly, wicked grin tugged at the mentioned man’s sensual lips. “It’s a gift.” She shook a finger at him. “I warned you.” “Ah, now, swee—Emma.” Fox caught himself, but not before Emma shot emerald, hot daggers at him with her glare. And not before Carter failed to stifle a chuckle. Planting her hands on her hips, she quipped, “Well, I’m just so happy to entertain you boys, but in case you’ve forgotten, there’s a dead woman we need to discuss. Among other things.” “Shit. Ah, sorry, Emma,” Carter said. “Could I trouble you for a cup of that coffee? Black.” Huffing out a breath, she told him to sit, and she’d get it. Then damn it, before she realized what she’d done, she was delivering it to the table with one for Fox as well. And because her anger and her need to pace had drained to be replaced by an aching heart and a plain, old-fashioned, rip-roaring headache, she dropped into a seat across from them.

116

Raven Fyre

Patience waning, Emma rather quietly demanded, “One of you had better start explaining.” Fox, the self-appointed ringleader, shifted forward in his chair, cupped his fingers tightly around the mug as if for moral support. “The woman was Ruthie Helton. We knew each other in another lifetime, Emma. High school, young lust, crushes. We nearly made the mistake of walking down the aisle, but I caught her fucking my best friend the night of our rehearsal dinner.” He’d almost been married? Almost. Not because he didn’t believe in the institution, but because of the wrong woman. Ruthie, poor thing, had obviously been a fool. Only a fool, Emma deduced, would sleep with another man when she could have Fox. “And when we saw her the other night, having her kinky fun with the whips and chains, I realized how I could manipulate our previous relationship and use her as my In. The mark. My contact,” he clarified. Emma, unlike Ruthie, was no fool. Things started tumbling into place like the inner workings of a lock. “You came here, to Pheasant Lake, to my cottage, for one of your covert operations. You and Carter, you’re working together. And Charlie?” “No. He’s out of the loop on this one.” Shoving back from the table, Fox then stood and took his empty cup to the sink. “Carter and I, we both go way back with Charlie. We’re all former SEALs. But Charlie’s moved on to other, more mainline business operations within the civilian sector. When Carter and I decided the time was right to move in, the place, I called Charlie as a useful cover, an excuse for being here.” Carter added, “We’ve had reports about this society. The freaks with whips and chains. Fucking weird shit, if you ask me. Anyway, I couldn’t give a holy hell what those people do in the privacy of their homes or yours.” He looked pointedly to Emma. “Not when it comes to sex. But they’ve been using the society as a cover for a huge, deepreaching drug ring.”

Sly Like a Fox

117

“Mr. Knight,” Fox informed her, “is one of our men on the inside.” “Mr. Assless Chaps.” Emma breathed the words out in a tone of complete and unabashed awe. “Oh, good God, and he asked me to…I can’t think about what he asked me to do.” Both men looked at her as if they were biting off their tongues to keep from begging her to expound, but she shook her head. Oh, hell no, no way was she gifting them with those juicy morsels. “I reestablished contact with Ruthie,” Fox went on. “Played it up as old friends, the whole what a coincidence and good to see you bit, and set up the buy for a large shipment of narcotics. Those bills, Emma. They were marked. Set for a trap. And I was bugged when she and I set up the deal. The exchange was to go down early this morning. I came out to meet her, like we’d planned, and instead, she was floating face down in the lake.” “I suppose this ruins you getting enough evidence to break up the ring, make arrests,” Emma deduced. Leaning back against the counter, Fox crossed his legs at the ankles. “Knight’s been able to do a hell of a lot more from the inside than we first realized. As soon as I recognized Ruthie, I called him, as well as Carter. He assured me there was enough to take down the major players. With or without the marked bills, and whatever drugs Ruthie would have handed over as proof of the exchange, the game is up.” Carter added, “The Feds are already swarming the house on the hill like flies on hot shit.” “My head is spinning,” Emma admitted, pressing her fingers to her temples. “I guess I missed all that in the confusion. Oh…oh, Lord. How much trouble am I in? Housing them, letting them have their fun, which included selling drugs, and all under my roof.” She covered her face in her hands and, dropping her head, shook it in disbelief.

118

Raven Fyre

Then she looked up at Fox as another revelation slammed her square in the gut. “I swear to you, Fox, I had no idea about the drugs. Absolutely none.” “I know that, Emma. I never thought otherwise.” “It’s true,” Carter backed him up. “Fox refused any background info on you other than your name and the address of this place. And the first day we made contact, right after he’d met you, he insisted you had no idea. Knight confirmed it for me because, well, I had to be sure. I had to go on more than Fox’s gut with this one. Sorry, Emma, it’s my job, my ass on the line, too.” “No. It’s…no offense taken, Carter. And it’s no small relief to know I’m not in a heap of legal trouble.” The rest, well she couldn’t think about much more just now. Running a finger around the rim of her mug, she contemplated. “Who do you think killed Ruthie?” “Couldn’t say. Hopefully, Knight might have a clue. But he had to be rounded up and arrested with the rest of them so he wouldn’t stick out as one of ours. In fact”—Carter stood—“I should get back. There’ll be a ton of paperwork. And I hate the fucking Feds. Sorry, Fox. But they treat us local guys like the dog shit under their boots. Present company excluded,” he said, grinning. Emma started to ask another question, but a knock at the back door snagged their attention. Carter rushed to answer the summons. It was the medical examiner and a couple of suits. The medical examiner spoke up first. “Chief, got a preliminary on the vic, if you’d like to take a walk.” “Sure, just give me five.” Then he turned his attention to the two Feds in their expensive suits, clone-like, matching duds, matching dark glasses, dark shoes, same dark hair, and matching, trim hairstyles. “Yeah?” “We’ll need to search the cottage.” “Standard procedure. Yaddah, yaddah. I don’t need the rest of the bullshit. Fox!” He called over his shoulder, giving Fox a get the hell

Sly Like a Fox

119

over here nod. “I gotta date with the medical examiner for a prelim on the vic. These guys are all yours.”

120

Raven Fyre

Chapter 10 Clearly, Emma was not happy. This much Fox knew for certain. But as much as he hated it as well, there was nothing to be done about it at the moment but pack up and clear out. Until otherwise notified. He’d placed a call to his superiors and argued, seethed, cursed, refused to put Emma in anyone else’s hands until this was done. Although she was oblivious to his fight, he’d even relinquished control of the scene, stepping down in superiority to another agent in order to remain at her side. Fox put the screws to the wall with his last official orders and lorded over the other suits in a way Carter could not. Not that the man wouldn’t have liked to. And it wasn’t that he didn’t have the balls. Fox had been in enough scrapes with “Tango” Carter to know his set was fucking bronzed. But this was his sideshow. Ringleader Fox called into action. One final act. “Miss Dupree and I will be out as soon as we’ve packed our bags,” he informed the matching suits. “And if this place is trashed, if even one article is broken, or out of place when we return, I’ll personally hunt you down. Got me?” What Fox got was the fuck-you look they tried desperately to hide, but the eyes never lie. They both gave matching, somber nods. Damn, but they really needed to get a life, Fox thought. Separate ones. “Chief Carter has my cell number. I’ll expect a call the instant we’re cleared to reenter the premises. Forty-eight hours, then I take matters into my own hands.” Orders given, Fox escorted Emma upstairs.

Sly Like a Fox

121

“Grab whatever you’ll need for a couple of nights, and I’ll be back.” This time, Emma quietly obeyed. But she put up a fuss when Fox tossed both their cases into the extra cab of his Tundra. “Oh, no. I may be forced out of my home, but I won’t be going anywhere with you.” “Damn it, Emma. I’m not leaving without you. And I’m not about to send you off somewhere without me. Someone murdered Ruthie, and until we know who, and have him or her locked up, you aren’t safe. That’s fact. And I refuse to take the chance of having something happen to you.” To the nearest suit, Fox reminded, “Forty-eight hours. Then I want a full report, and I want this place cleared. Or heads roll.” Holding the door for Emma, he waited as she settled into the passenger seat then rounded the hood and slid in behind the wheel. “Where’s the nearest motel?” Refusing to look at him, Emma focused on a spot beyond the windshield. “Take the lake road back into town, then hit ninety-eight and stay toward the beach.” Taking her cell, she called Charla, giving her the condensed version of the hell she was now mired in. Minus her ups and downs with Fox, of course. Fox listened to her side of the conversation, then followed her more precise directions once they neared Laguna Beach. “Charla’s sister owns a private house here, beachfront. We can use it for however long this drags out.” They parked in the open space under the lime sherbet-shaded house. Everything beachfront, other than the towering condos, had been built on raised pilings due to the threat of flooding. Hurricanes, tropical storms, the rising tides, and ferocious winds had been known to cause substantial damage and, at times, complete obliteration. Emma ran her hand along an overhead beam and retrieved a key. “Better, more private, than a hotel,” she commented while taking the side stairs up the house’s main level. Fox followed with their bags.

122

Raven Fyre

“We’ll have to check the fridge, see what’s stocked in the pantry. There’s a Publix a couple miles up. We can make a grocery run later.” The house was a charming two-story, four-bedroom with a wide front deck and a river of boardwalk leading down to the dunes. And the décor was classy Spartan. Sisal rugs over wooden floors the color of bamboo. Palm tree greens, boiled shrimp salmons, sugary beach whites in the fabrics of the furniture’s cushions, the drapes. The wood, the fabrics, everything was infused with the salty sea air. “It’s great,” Fox decided. “Hell, if not for the shit going on, this would feel like a vacation.” “What is it, exactly…I mean, who do you work for, Fox?” Emma eyed him warily. “Can you tell me that?” Fox recognized the tension in her face, could guess it was knotted in her neck as well. It took everything he had inside him not to go to her, to use his hands and try to relieve the pain. Would that he could do the same for his heart. She loved him. And wasn’t that a hell of a thing? Finally, he’d found a woman to love him, and he loved her right back. Yet, he felt as if he’d fallen off the cliff and landed ass-first in the sand with every bone in his body shattered because there was no way on earth she could ever forgive his lies. Emma Dupree was a remarkable woman, but she wasn’t cut out to tolerate lies. Deception. Her show of punishment, her lesson in remorse, had taught him that about her. That and so much more. Staggering, Fox mused. It was staggering to believe she really loved him. More, she believed in him. One hundred percent. Faith, love without question. No one had ever given him either in full measure. And he hadn’t had the balls to be up front with her, to have faith enough in her to tell her the truth right from the beginning. As soon as he’d been convinced she wasn’t a part of the drugs, the scandal, and been sure how much he cared for her, he should have given her that same faith. What a fool he’d been.

Sly Like a Fox

123

But he had her so high on a pedestal of admiration that it had never crossed his mind that she’d been hiding some pretty huge secrets of her own, had never occurred to him to remember that she’d been deceiving her friends and the community for years. Love. Heartache. They had a way of making a man blind, deaf, and momentarily dumbfounded. “DEA. I was assigned to spearhead this special task force, and we’ve been working in conjunction with local law enforcement in several states. We’ve been following the society’s suspicious activities for months. A few days here, a couple weeks there. Since I have a personal connection with Tango, that’s Carter’s call-sign, and things seemed to finally be coming to a head, according to Knight, we thought this would be the right time to make our move. The right place. Emma, I never meant for any of this to happen.” Her tone was resolute. “But it has. And there’s no waving a magic wand and erasing it, now is there?” He caught her by the arm. “Damn it, Emma. That isn’t what I meant. I told you before, you cross all my wires for logical thought. Would I rather you hadn’t been dragged into this? Hell, yes. Would I have done some things differently if I’d known it would go down this way? Hell, yes. But, Emma, sweetheart, there’s nothing that would be worth erasing you from my life.” “Don’t, Fox. Please, just don’t. I’m mentally and physically drained. Right now I want to curl up somewhere and just forget the rest of the world for a while.” The hand on her arm moved to her shoulder. He began gently kneading the knots of tension in her neck and shoulders, as he’d wanted to before. “You need to relax. Regroup. I can respect that, Emma. But you aren’t going to shut me out.” That did it. She whirled on him and gave him a shove backward that actually caused him to bobble but only because she’d been able to catch him off guard.

124

Raven Fyre

“Shut you out? You aren’t going to let me shut you out. That’s priceless! Some nerve you have, Fox Gannon. Lying to me, letting me fall for you. Using me!” That cut stung far worse than all the others. “Well, fuck you, Fox.” “Fine by me.” He snagged her around the thighs, lifted her off her feet, and tossed her over his shoulder. She could do nothing but pound her fists on his back while hanging upside down. Then she tried a little clawing and cursed him like a sailor. “Put me down you damned arrogant son of a bitch! Bastard! Get your fucking hands off me!” She shrieked when his palm smacked her ass. Hard. “Call me any name in the book you like, sweetheart. But you leave my mother out of this.” “Don’t you dare call me sweetheart, you swine!” Hitting the first bedroom and finding the king to his satisfaction, he dumped her, quite unceremoniously, on the bed. She landed on her ass with a bounce and came up clawing. She shoved her hair back, out of her face. “Jackass! Oh, no you don’t. You just put that shirt back on.” Ignoring her, he tossed the shirt and reached for hers. With one swift jerk, the pretty mother-of-pearl buttons down the center went flying, bouncing around, peppering the wood floors. **** Speechless. Emma was stunned speechless, and Fox took the advantage, deftly flicking the front closure of her bra and exposing her breasts to his greedy hands. Then his mouth was on hers like a fever. Tumbling to the bed, they rolled, twisted, tore at the rest of each other’s clothes. But there was nothing gentle in Emma’s touch. Nothing tender in what she brought to this match. Her heart had been shattered, and still she wanted him. Had to have him. Craved him.

Sly Like a Fox

125

But she didn’t have to be happy about it. She nipped at his flesh with her pearly whites, scored her short nails over his ripped abs as he growled in response and suffered the glorious assault in turn, as Fox hungrily sucked a nipple until she cried out from the edge of that most exquisite place where pain and pleasure balance on a tedious line. “More,” she demanded as she pulled his mouth to her other breast. Arching into his mouth as he plucked the taut rosy nipple. “Yes! Ah, yes…yes…yes.” Her chants echoed along with his grunts and growls as his mouth moved over her body, trailing heat down to her center. “Jesus, Fox, I want that mouth on me.” Lust shot like an arrow, hitting the target, dead center, of her aching pussy. He obliged her, tracing her slit with his tongue as he shoved her thighs wide. With tantalizing licks, he lapped at her juices. She may have been angry as hell, but she was so aroused her cunt was practically pouring. And he seemed intent of lapping up every last, exquisite drop. “You taste so fucking sweet, Emma. I could eat this pussy up.” Spreading her delicate folds, he flicked his tongue over her clit as it swelled. She clawed at the bedspread, fisting the material at her hips and writhing under the outrageously wild assault of his mouth. Firm hands cupped her ass, lifted her hips, and held her captive, as he plunged his tongue deep in her center. Then he swirled it over her clit and sank two thick fingers into her pulsing sheath. “That’s it, baby. Milk those fingers.” In and out he stroked, harder, faster. She felt her body tense as the need began to build and rise from deep in her center. His teeth grazed along the inside of her thigh, making her quiver and setting off little sparks of anticipation over where he’d touch her, tease her next. She felt the first waves of her climax, churning and crashing their way up from her core. Her head thrashed about, her hips bucked, but

126

Raven Fyre

she bit her lip rather than give him the satisfaction of hearing her scream. “Don’t you dare hold back on me, Emma.” “Fuck you.” “We’re getting to that, sweetheart. Ladies first.” Rocking his palm against her mound, torturing her clit, with his fingers still buried deep, he took her up again. “And second. Scream for me, baby.” “I’m not your…baby. Oh God, Fox. You have the most… amazing…oh, oh yes. The most amazing hands. Sweet God. Right there, oh right there.” His thumb was exacting the perfect pressure, in just the perfect spot. She was practically purring under his skilled hands. And that luscious mouth trailed up her body, the curve of her side, along the underside of a breast, before moving up to the column of her throat. “Emma.” His lips were a breath from hers. “Say it again. Tell me again that you love me.” Closing her eyes, she shook her head frantically in refusal as much as in response to the torturous pleasure raging at her center. The inner muscles of her pussy clenched and released, clenched and released, aching to be filled. She wanted him, needed him inside her. “Look at me, baby. Emma!” She hated that he could use that tone with her and have every nerve ending in her body shimmering with heat. She hated that she was so helpless to withhold her response. Unable to deny him, she finally looked at him. “Emma.” “I hate you.” He laughed. “Sure you do, baby. That’s why your pussy’s dripping wet, and your body’s so tight you could scream. Scream for me, Emma. Let go, baby. Let go.” Even as her head shook again, her body bowed, her hips bucked, and she sobbed out his name as she climaxed. “Good girl. Now tell me again how much you hate me.”

Sly Like a Fox

127

Instead of the words he wanted, she tried to claim his lips, but he shifted so that she grazed his jaw. “Damn you.” **** Knowing that she badly wanted a taste, he kept teasing her with feather light brushes of his lips over her cheek, her chin, her neck. If it took all night, and they had nothing at the moment but time, if he had to break down every brick of the resolve she’d stacked sky high, he would have the words again. Fox would accept nothing less than Emma’s complete surrender. With her panting, shivering, weak from the aftermath of twin, earth-shattering orgasms, Fox needed little effort to flip her over to her stomach. He started at the base of her neck, shoving aside the mass of her hair and kissing the sweet spot he uncovered. Working his way down her spine, he dotted the curve with lips. Whatever she chose to believe, Fox had not used her before. But, by God, he was using everything he knew about her now. He was determined to exploit her every weakness, weaknesses she hadn’t revealed to another man, ever. He would exploit them and would have her begging for what she was trying so desperately to deny—him. She may hate him now, in this moment, but before he was done, she was damn well going to admit how much she loved him. Then somehow, someway, he was going to uncover the miracle that would make her forgive him for lying. Even if it took moving heaven and earth. Her excruciating lesson in remorse was a memory that haunted him now. But Fox had never shied away from a challenge. And losing Emma simple wasn’t an option. There was the way she squirmed and whimpered her need when he nibbled along her spine. Knowing what it did to her insides, as she’d told him just exactly how her pussy tightened in anticipation, he

128

Raven Fyre

continued to prolong the exquisite agony. Then there was the way he pulled her up on her knees, spread her wide, and feasted on her pussy, which made her shiver and buck. Exploiting those weaknesses. “Fox,” she panted. “Yes, baby.” He spread her cheeks wider as she buried her face in the mattress. He licked the sweet path from her pussy to the rosy, puckered, forbidden bud of her ass. “Say it, Emma. You know I’m not going to give it to you ‘til you ask for it.” Hell, until she demanded it, he didn’t add. Making her suffer was nearly killing him, but the reward was worth the slice to his heart, or so he had to keep telling himself. Otherwise, he’d cave. His thumb rubbed in small, gentle circles while she moaned and whimpered. Finally, she whispered, “Fuck me.” “You want this cock in your pussy, baby?” Teasing her further, he brushed the head of his cock along her dripping slit. She tried to shift her hips and take him in, but he pulled back, taking his cock in hand and rubbing the hard length between her ass cheeks. She wanted it in her ass. He knew she did. They both knew just how intense, how exquisite the release was for both of them when he took her that way. The way no one else ever had. Or ever would. Her response was a murmur that came out muffled around the comforter she was biting. “I can’t hear you, Emma. Tell me what you want, sweetheart. You know you just have to ask, baby, and you can have any—” “I want that cock in my ass!” She finally lifted her head to look over her shoulder at him. “Fuck my ass, Fox. Please.” “Yes, baby.” Smiling smugly, he worked his thumb into her ass, pressed past the tight ring of muscles, gently eased deeper while working in small circles to stretch her, to ready her. Feeling the muscles clench, hearing her hiss of pain, he cursed. “Fuck. Sorry, baby. Just give me a minute.”

Sly Like a Fox

129

He pressed a kiss to one lovely cheek, then went to grab his duffel, and tossed it to the floor when he returned with the bottle of lube. “There, now. I don’t want to hurt you, baby.” The scent of tart berries filled the room as he dribbled lube over her ass and wetted his finger before he began entering her. When he felt her muscles start to relax, he added a second finger. She urged him on. “Yes, baby. Oh, that’s so good. More.” Chuckling, he smacked her ass lightly. “Greedy minx.” Then he pulled the digits completely out, added a little more lube and worked them in again. Careful to judge her reaction, he waited as she adjusted to having those two thick fingers as deep as he could go. He felt her tight little muscles contracting around him, and his cock throbbed, anticipating the pleasure to come. A murmur of protest erupted when his fingers left her. “Only a minute more, baby, and I’ll give you everything you want.” He took that minute to sheath himself in a condom. He was going to fuck her ass, just as she was begging him for, but he was far from done with her. She mewed in pleasure when he spread her ass cheeks. “Yes, baby. Fill it up, Fox. Put that thick, hot cock in my ass.” Fox eased in, not wanting to hurt her, feeling the pressure of her taut inner muscles as she tried to milk him, to pull him in farther. “Easy, baby. Sweet God, Emma, that ass is so perfect, so tight. Fuck, that’s intense.” He set a slow, easy pace, gliding in and out of her tight channel, sinking deeper and deeper with each thrust. His hand came around to work its magic, rubbing her clit, pinching it, heightening her pleasure. “You like that, baby?” “Yes. Oh, Fox, it’s…oh, God, I’m so close to coming again. Harder, baby. Please.” Although it ate at him to hear her beg, he kept the rhythm easy and gripped her hips to control her movements.

130

Raven Fyre

“Fox!” Emma reached behind her, twisting, gripping his arm. “Oh, God, please fuck me harder.” He cupped her chin, keeping her gaze locked on his. “Let me hear you say it, Emma.” “I hate you! I could throttle you for lying to me, for using me. Damn you, Fox!” She finally broke, sobbing out the words. “I love you, Fox. I love you. Damn you, I do.” “Emma. Ah, sweetheart.” Leaning in, he captured her mouth and savored the salt of her tears, her surrender. Her hand gripped his hip, and pulled him in deeper while their tongues mated in rhythm with their bodies. He felt her body tighten as the need built between them, and he finally picked up the pace. Fox reveled in the feel of her mouth fused to his, of their bodies locked together, of possessing her, ruling her, driving her faster and harder towards release. She sobbed his name while quivering from the intensity of her orgasm. He felt every shiver, every shock wave that rippled around his hard cock. He held her, whispering soothing words, massaging the lines of her back, easing her back down to earth, to him. “Welcome back, baby.” Nuzzling her shoulder with his lips, he sank two fingers deep in her center. “Jesus, Emma, you are so wet.” His cock was still hard as granite, still buried deep in her ass. But he wanted it in that drenched, velvety sheath of her pussy. A deep groan escaped him as he withdrew. Playfully, he swatted her bottom and effortlessly flipped her to her back. He tossed the condom in a wastebasket by the bed, then hooked his arms under her knees and pulled her closer to the edge of the bed where he stood. “Gimme that pussy, baby.” Placing her feet on his shoulders, he pressed a kiss to the inside of each ankle, and then rubbed the hard, thick length of his cock along her moist folds.

Sly Like a Fox

131

She gnawed at her lower lip as her head fell back, and her lids drifted shut. “Inside me, Fox. I need you inside me.” “Look at me, baby.” When her eyes were locked on his, he eased his cock past her delicate folds and sank to the hilt inside the hot, slick glove of her pussy. “Sweet God, Emma, you feel amazing. Hot. Wet. Heaven.” She gripped his wrists, smiling as he twisted free to lace their fingers while their bodies rocked together. Then he leaned over her, pressing her thighs wider and holding her hands above her head as he took her mouth. They were linked, locked together in every possible way. With each stroke of his tongue, his cock stroked her pussy. He was so close to losing control, to simply hammering himself into her. The timing was shit, but then, what else was new? He’d finally worn her down, made her admit her love, again. A man had to gamble everything and risk going for broke, or he’d never know the victory of hitting it big. “Emma. Sweetheart, you have to believe I never used you. I love you, Emma. God, from the first moment I saw you, in that damn nightgown, you had me by the throat.” “Fox,” she whispered as tears poured from her eyes. “Shh, baby. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” Letting go of her hands, he brushed the damp, silky waves from her temples. Then he pressed hurried kisses to her lids, her cheeks. Finally, he kissed her lips, merging his tongue with hers as she parted for him and took her on an achingly tender journey that was ripe with remorse. Although the kiss was gentle, the need within them fisted to an achingly tight peak that drove their bodies together frantically. Thrusting deep, Fox held her hips as he finally let loose and hammered into her. There was the slap of flesh to flesh, the slick sounds of bodies mating, arching, straining to meet each thrust. The symphony of grunts and groans, sighs of pleasure, murmurs of demands for more, and still more. Everything.

132

Raven Fyre

**** Emma cried out first as the climax tore through her hips, melted her clear to her toes and left her trembling. The rippling echoes of bliss pulled Fox along. She felt his cock jerk, felt his body bow, reveled in the primal growl that erupted as he emptied his hot, wet seed deep, deep inside her. Then he slowly collapsed on top of her, burying his face in her neck. There was just no holding back the flood of tears. Fox’s admission had started to dissolve her carefully-erected dam of resolve, and now, they simply flowed free. She held the glorious weight of him, as it pressed her into the mattress, keeping her limbs locked around him. Cradling him in her love, she rubbed his smooth head. She felt him stir, felt the hot press of his lips to the pulse-point of her throat. Then he eased up, looking down at her. His smile was tender as he brushed a thumb over her damp cheek, swiping away her tears. “I love you, baby.” “Oh, Fox. I was so afraid…the way you reacted.” Forgetting her malaise as a bit of her spunk returned, she poked at his chest. “I despise the way you can manipulate me. If I didn’t love you, I’d make good on my threats and strangle you.” His smile turned wickedly sly. “You’re so damned sexy when you get riled up, baby. Fucking gorgeous.” He trailed a finger down her torso, then up again to cup a breast in his palm and rub the nipple between his fingers. “You’re so beautiful, Emma, you make me weak. I’m an ass, I know. And yes, I purposefully manipulated you. This time. But there was no other way to get through your anger.” Pulling out of her, he rolled to his back, tucking her into his side. Her cheek pressed perfectly to his chest, as she snuggled in closer and draped her thigh over his. “We fit, Fox. In every way.” “Perfectly,” he added. “I should have been honest with you from the beginning. Especially after I knew in my gut you weren’t

Sly Like a Fox

133

involved, but by then, we were already so…tangled up in one another…well, it’s no excuse. But I warned you I’d lie again and again if it kept you safe.” Taking a deep breath, he asked, “Emma, sweetheart, can you ever forgive me?” Her hand splayed over his heart as she pressed her lips to his chest. “As long as you promise to be straight with me about everything else from now on, no matter what? Forgiven.” She stamped another kiss on his chest, and added, “Forgotten.” “Just like that?” He shifted so that he could look at her face, look into her eyes. She nodded slowly. “You lied, but you’ve admitted it. And knowing the reasons behind it, I understand. Remember, Fox, I’ve witnessed your remorse. I was mad as hell at you, that’s true, but it’s damned hard to stay mad at you when there’s just so much love shoving the anger out of my heart.” “I don’t…I never hoped. You never fail to amaze me.” “Well, you have to admit it would be like the pot calling the kettle black here, darlin’.” She layered on his drawl as she said it. “I’ve been hording my own share of secrets. May Madness…” She swore she could see the light bulb go off over his head. “True. But you were honest with me about that, from the get go. What a pair we are, Emma Dupree. Secrets. Lies. No more.” “No more,” she echoed. They shared a lingering kiss, before he pulled her head back to his chest, stroking her hair as they drifted off. Together. **** The call came late in the earliest hours of morning, and Fox had to scramble out of the silky web of Emma’s limbs to find his damn duffel and retrieve the offensive device. “Fox.” Emma stirred and sat up, clutching the sheet to her breasts.

134

Raven Fyre

DEA. COD. Fox spoke to the caller using his alphabetic code and other technical medical jargon. Then finally, he began questioning the details of an arrest. When he flipped the phone off, he turned, rubbing the nape of his neck. “That was Carter. The medical examiner found some discoloration on the skin around her throat, her chest, and other sundry bruises. Defensive marks, but no open wounds. No water in her lungs. He confirmed Ruthie was strangled, then dumped in the pond.” When Emma went white as the sheet she had gathered under her chin, he realized she might have been happier without the garish details. “After the Feds had a chance to question Knight, seems there was some love, envy thing going on between Ruthie’s lover of the moment and another women’s husband because of a sex swap. Hell if I know.” He shook his head. “Anyway, it didn’t take much to get a confession out of the guy. He was pretty shook up about it, blabbering how much he loved her, how it killed him to see Ruthie with the other guy. He lost his temper, they fought…” “Wait. Was this the man we watched her with?” “Shit, yeah, I guess it was. Knight said they had enough Intel on the drug cartel to arrest the big bosses and enough dirt on the little guys to have their testimony secured. And they confiscated a shitload of narcotics from the house on the hill. No surprise, the cottage was clean. The scene should be cleared sometime later tomorrow.” “It’s over?” Her voice was filled with awe. “Pretty much. Yeah.” He came back to sit on the bed. “There’ll be a bitch load of paperwork. Search warrants to be issued and carried out on the residences of the main players they arrested. Sweetheart, I can’t even imagine what the house on the hill looks like.” “At this point, I think setting a match to it might suit me just fine.” She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “The cottage is really all I need. I’ve been thinking of opening up the

Sly Like a Fox

135

kitchen as more of a café, since I do so much baking and cooking for the guests during the regular season anyway. That should help with the money I’ll miss, not having May Madness.” “This was my last official case,” Fox told her. He scooted back, leaning against the pillows and headboard. “I’d already put in my resignation with the Feds, with the agreement to see this through. I’ve saved, invested well over the years. It’s early in the game for retirement, but I can afford to dabble. Money gives you the freedom to play a little, you know?” “So, you’ll be going back to Texas, then?” “You tell me.” Swiping tears, she turned to face him. “Seriously?” “Whatever you want, baby.” He reached out to cup her cheek, and she pressed her lips to the sweet spot of his warm palm. “You come with me, or I’ll stay here. But I’m not giving you up, Emma. That’s nonnegotiable.” He pulled her mouth to his, delighting in the urgent, maddening feast they made of one another, of the way she responded passionately to his demand. “Fox.” “Yes, baby?” He nuzzled her nose with his while skimming a thumb along her well-kissed lips. “I want it all.” “Yeah?” “Marriage. Babies. I want the forever, Fox, but only with you.” “Greedy minx.” He rolled with her, pressed her beneath him as he crushed his mouth to hers again. “How many babies are we talking?” “Fox! Jesus. You want a number? Now?” “Right now,” Fox murmured against her lips, “what I want…is you. We’ll call it practice.” “Was that a yes?” “You tell me.” Unbelievably hard and yearning for her, yet again, Fox sank to the hilt inside her and began that most magnificent journey toward the oblivion of heaven he could only find in Emma’s

136

Raven Fyre

arms. “Are you going to take what you want, Emma Dupree? Will you have me?” Her arms floated up to lock around his neck and her heels dug into his hips as he thrust deep. “Yes, Fox. Only you.” Pleasure whipped through him, and love filled his heart to bursting as he felt the pulsing grip of Emma’s release. “Yes. Yes. Yes,” she chanted as he poured himself into her. “I love you, Fox.” “And I love you, baby.” Here was everything.

THE END

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Born and raised in the Deep South, Raven Fyre now lives in Florida with her wonderfully supportive husband, their three beautiful children, and exactly six fish. When she isn’t fleshing out new stories on her laptop or whipping up something new in the kitchen she can be found devouring the writings of her favorite authors. Please write to her at [email protected]. Happy reading!

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com