The Men In Uniform Collection. Barbara McMahon

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      It took a while, and he hoped Christie wasn’t too cold or impatient. He hadn’t lost his hard-on, which made him wonder if he was a little too fond of his job. He knew he was too fond of her.

      Coward that he was, he chose not to think about that tonight. Maybe tomorrow he’d face the fact that he should never have kissed her. But tonight? He was going to get that woman on her back. For starters.

      The house was clear. Nothing had been disturbed, no one was even interested. Seth had set up a camera in the backyard, on both sides of the house, and across the street. Good man, that Seth.

      Boone put the safety back on as he headed to the bathroom. He tapped the door so he wouldn’t startle her, then he walked in.

      Christie was sitting on the edge of the tub, still wrapped in the towel. She’d combed her hair away from her face. When she looked up at him, he stopped dead still. Her eyes were wide with a trust that made him want to slay dragons. Her lips, sweet and ripe, were parted, showing a hint of her even, white teeth. She stood, pale shoulders trembling. And as he stared at her with his heart in fifth, she dropped the towel.

      “Oh, shit,” he said, surprised that he could form the words.

      “Come on, soldier boy. Show me what you got.”

      He was at her side before she could blink. He picked her up, careful not to hurt her in his panic. They were out the door and down the hallway, and he was raging for her, hoping like hell Milo cleared the room before he got hurt.

      Then they were at the edge of the mattress, and he went to his knees. But he couldn’t let her go. While she was still cradled in his arms, he kissed her again. His tongue thrust into her hard, a preview of what was to come.

      He felt nails on his back, swallowed her moan. There was no choice, he had to let her go so he could rip his goddamn jeans off.

      Christie had the same idea. The moment she was on the bed, her fingers were at his zipper. He had to stop her though because this wasn’t going to be easy. He was so hard, he’d have to watch it or become a soprano.

      He didn’t even mind her laughter as he carefully unzipped. Once he was free, he was out of those Levi’s in two hot seconds. That’s what he wanted. To be next to her, on her, in her.

      She welcomed him with another moan, spreading her legs so he could climb between them. Every touch was torture as his cock wanted only one thing.

      When her hand circled him, he groaned, it was that intense. “Come on, Boone. Come home.”

      He felt the soft wetness between her legs and he thrust so hard she screamed. He covered her mouth with his, swallowing her breath, her passion, and he reached down and lifted her legs. Right there, that was it. He used his knees to balance and every muscle in his body to take it home, hard.

      Her hands were on his back, her nails sharp and exactly right. He liked the pain, loved knowing he could do this to her, stretch her like this, make her cry out over and over. There was nothing but her slick heat, nothing but the taste of her cries. He knew he was hurting her shoulders, pressing too hard, but he couldn’t stop. It wasn’t just his cock, it was every part of him, his legs, his chest, his mind, and he was in her, in her, harder, deeper.

      She bit his lip, she tore at his flesh and her heels beat on his back. All of it was perfect.

      There was no more time, no control at all. “I can’t,” he growled, knowing he wasn’t making sense.

      “Do it,” she said. Then she grabbed his head between her hands and she kissed him, assaulting his mouth, tearing at his lips.

      He shouted as he came, as hard as he had ever in his life.

      She never let up, milking him beyond the point of pain all the way to insanity.

      He reared back, gritting his teeth, his whole chest pounding with his heart. His cock pulsing at the same beat.

      She pushed him. Her hands weren’t on his back anymore, but on his chest. And she was pushing him, struggling, and he must be hurting her, but he didn’t know how.

      He pulled out, checked where his elbows were, his knees. He couldn’t be pulling her hair, so what the hell?

      “Move, goddammit!” she yelled, shoving him harder than he would have thought possible.

      He sat up on his knees, and she was staring at his chest, kicking at him, pushing him, and then he looked down and he saw it. The red dot. Right over his heart.

      He rolled just as the shot shattered the window.

       11

      “GET DRESSED.”

      Christie stared at the hole in her wall. One second later, and Boone would have been dead. One second.

      She felt a warm drip down the inside of her thigh, and she realized that they hadn’t discussed birth control. That she hadn’t even thought about him wearing a rubber. She took the pill, had for years, but she always insisted that the guy be safe. Always. But not with Boone, and Boone had almost been killed. If she hadn’t looked down. If she hadn’t seen all those TV shows with the laser sights, she wouldn’t have known. She wouldn’t have warned him.

      “Christie.”

      She looked up. Boone, sweat making his face shiny, stared at her. He had his gun out.

      “Christie, I’m okay. You need to get dressed. Right now.”

      She moved on the bed, sore from the most incredible orgasm she could ever remember. “I’ll go turn on the shower.”

      “No. There’s no time. Just get your clothes on. Just hurry.”

      She nodded. Turned on her elbow to get up. But his hand on her shoulder stopped her.

      “Stay low. I don’t know where he’s shooting from, I don’t know what he can see. So stay low, grab your clothes and get to the hallway.”

      She moved in slow motion, finding her shirt, jeans, bra, panties, shoes. Then she crawled on her own carpet to the hallway, expecting a bullet in her back the whole way.

      She bumped into Milo and nearly screamed, but he just licked her face, huddling close, his tail wagging. She hugged him tight, then struggled into her clothes, watching as Boone made his way to the window.

      How could the bastard have seen them? The blinds were drawn, so how could he see? Was his timing on purpose? Was he watching them make love, just waiting until they came to shoot Boone? If she hadn’t seen the red dot, then Boone would have fallen on her body. He would have still been inside her.

      She was shaking, so damn hard she couldn’t hook her bra. There was no way she was going to cry. Not while he could see her. Not while that asshole was outside, looking in.

      “Where’s your purse?”

      “What?”

      Boone didn’t look СКАЧАТЬ