Five Alarm Alphas Page 5
He took her from behind, sliding into her with a fast and furious thrust, and kept up the pace until they collapsed, sprawling across the mattress in a sweaty heap. It was only as she drifted asleep that she realized he’d not blindfolded her, or bound her, or anything of the things he’d warned her he’d do. And yet, it had been perfect.
Tabby awoke to Zac’s hips pressing up against her, his morning wood sliding between her folds. Deciding she liked waking up that way, she snuggled against him. “Good morning.”
“If I’d known I could wake up like this every day, kitten, I’d have driven down to Carter Valley and asked you out on a date the day I heard you’d filed for divorce.”
She rolled over to face him. Holy crap, lying all rumpled and satisfied in her bed, his hair sticking up, and that delicious two-day stubble, he looked like a thoroughly satisfied sex god. Not that she’d ever feed his ego by saying that aloud.
A heated smile slowly widened on his face. And she’d put that look in his eyes. “You’re lookin’ like you’re one thoroughly satisfied woman, if I do say so myself.”
She burst into laughter. “You have the biggest, most unashamed ego of anyone I’ve ever met.”
“Only around you, Tabby.” He cupped her breast, sending those licks of heat from her heart straight down to her pussy. “But I must admit I wasn’t entirely confident of what you’d say last night. I figured you might send me packing. Permanently.”
“I wasn’t happy with you trying to foist me off on Quinn,” she admitted. “But once you explained about Val, it made so much sense. But you’re still stupid to have thought you had to honor a promise to her after all these years. You could have at least asked me.”
“You’re right.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her back down until she lay snuggled up to him again. “Last night was fantastic. I’m glad you wouldn’t let me just leave.”
“Are you kidding? After you teased me with those threats about tying me up and stuff?”
His expression turned serious. “I wasn’t teasing, kitten.”
Wow. As much as the thought of trying new stuff in the bedroom—with Zac as her partner—excited her, a quiver of fear raced through her too.
“Okay, what’s that expression mean? That you don’t like trying a little kinkier stuff? Didn’t Silly Billy or any of your other boyfriends do anything?” His expression grew thunderous. “Or did one of them not respect your boundaries and not stop when you told ’em to?”
“Billy…well, he was…straight laced.” He’d tried a couple positions when they’d first started dating, but after they’d gotten married it was missionary all the way. And forget about foreplay.
“What about your other boyfriends?”
“Billy was my first, and the only guy I’ve slept with. Until last night.”
His eyes goggled. “Seriously? I’m only the second guy you’ve slept with? You didn’t fool around in the backseat of some senior’s Ford?”
She balled her fist and punched him in the shoulder. “Fuck you, Buchanan. Are you callin’ me a slut?”
“No! I know you’re not easy. It’s just you’re killing me here, Tabby.” He skated his hands down her arms, then up her belly, bypassing her breasts to cup her jaw in his palms. “You have no idea how much of a challenge you’ve set me. Or of the things I want to show you. How much I want to watch you come apart with each new thing we try. You are so fucking beautiful when you come.”
“You watched me?” With her face all contorted and probably bright red too. It couldn’t have been flattering.
“Hey.” He stroked his thumb along her jaw until she met his gaze. “I love watching the tiny flickers in your eyelids right before you come, and then how you scrunch them up and your chin tilts up to the ceiling. And I especially love that sexy way you suck in your lower lip as if you’re trying to keep quiet—by the way, feel free to be as noisy as you want around me.”
“I’m sure the neighbors would enjoy hearing us.”
“What I’m sayin’, kitten, is that there is nothing more beautiful than watching you come apart because of what I’m doing to you. Nothing more gratifying. You are so beautiful, so sexy, don’t ever be ashamed of letting me know what you want. But while we’re on the subject, is there anything that’s off the table? Other than dressing up in animal costumes, that is.”
“I don’t like anyone kissing my ears. Or licking them.” She shuddered at the memory. “It’s like having a wet willy. Talk about a mood killer.”
He humphed. “Since I only kissed you beneath your ears last night, I’m going to assume your complaint stems from Silly Billy.”
“He wasn’t silly, he was just—”
“Boring? Unimaginative?” He canted his head, his eyes narrowed. “Controlling?”
“More the first two than the third.” Though he was set in his ways. Rigid. He hadn’t been happy whenever she’d talked about going to college, especially if it meant moving away from Barnett Springs. Which had been ironic when he’d come home six months after they’d gotten married and announced they were moving to Carter Valley. “It wasn’t like he abused me. We just didn’t have anything in common. By the end, we were just two strangers living in the same house.”
Which she and Zac would never be. Never had been. He knew her favorite movies, her favorite foods. And shared them too. They even tuned to the same radio station in their cars, had the same playlists, the same collection of books, and shouted “Yes, sir, Captain Tightpants” during last week’s Firefly marathon.
“So why’d you marry him?”
Because you had a girlfriend, and then instead of moving back to Barnett Springs after college, took that job in Houston. “Because everyone expected us to, I guess. We’d been dating for a year, and it was just the next step.”
Saying it aloud sounded stupid, but at nineteen it had seemed so mature. The right choice. Boy, had she been wrong.
He kissed the tip of her nose. “I don’t want you to stay with me because you think others expect it. I don’t even want you to do anything that I ask because you think I or anyone else ever expects it. You only do things you want to do. Promise?”
“I promise.” The alarm blared—the Dirt Road Graduate’s latest hit—meaning… “I hate to say it, but I have to get downstairs and get the bread rising.”
“That’s not the only thing you’ve got risin’ this morning, darlin’.” He lay on his back, and flipped back the sheet to display his erection standing to attention. He palmed the heavy shaft and stroked it. “Care to take care of it for me before you leave?”
Was he kidding? Like she’d pass up the chance to finally taste him? She licked her lips, and crawled across the mattress to position herself at his groin.
Once she was in place, she lowered her head and let the heavy shaft slip over her lips, slide over her tongue. He tasted salty, but boy did she crave his particular brand of salt. She used her lips and teeth and tongue, listening for the changes in his breathing, loving when he arched, pressing his cock into her mouth with a curse. Where he’d teased her up to the edge, then eased her back only to drive her over again, she did the same to him this morning. Until his fingers knotted in her hair and took over, his hips flexing, pushing his shaft to the back of her throat in quick, hard jabs.
“Fuck, Tab. You’re a—fucking—goddess at…” He canted his head so his chin pointed to the ceiling, his fingers digging into her skull. “Fuck I’m going to blow.”
Intent on driving him higher, she cradled his balls in her palm, toyed with them. They drew up tight to his body, his rhythm faltered as she sucked harder. One stroke, two, was all it took to see that loss of control she’d sought. The vision he made, all sinew and muscle drawn tight over his belly, his face screwed up in ecstasy, helped her understand his desire to watch her as she orgasmed, because Zac Buchanan out of control was a thing of beauty.
Chapter Three
Even if he didn’t like country music, Zac would have loved the Dirt Road
Graduates for getting Tabatha up in her seat, playing music that had her dancing her great, big heart out. Since they’d first taken the stage, she hadn’t stopped smiling. Although, come to think of it, she’d been smiling ever since he’d kissed her goodbye the morning after he’d gone back to the diner and asked her to take him to the concert.
He’d spent last night at her apartment too, stopping off at the diner on the premise of checking what time he should pick her up tonight.
Come to think of it, he’d been smiling a lot too.
With a woot and a pumped fist in the air, she wiggled her behind to the next song, which had the creepy old guy behind them ogling her. Hell, most of the guys in the rows behind them were checking her out. Damned if the woman didn’t have moves worthy of a stripper.
Jake Grady whipped the crowd into a frenzy. If he’d thought Tabatha was psyched up before, as this guy sang she practically vibrated in excitement. She wasn’t the only one. The whole stadium pulsed from the stamping feet and clapping hands. Pity they couldn’t bottle that type of enthusiasm—it would solve the world’s energy crisis.
But for tonight he only had eyes for Tabatha. For the way her hair danced over her shoulders, and the bright smile she flashed at him, as she checked to make sure he was having an equally good time. Just like her.
“Don’t just stand there. Dance with me.” She caught his hand and pulled him into the aisle. As she did, the music slowed.
“Hey, pretty girl.” Zac wrapped his arms around her waist and swayed against her. “I think I forgot to tell you how beautiful you are tonight.”
“Sweet talker.”
Unable to resist, he bent down and touched his lips to hers in what he’d intended to be a fleeting kiss. Except she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back down for a another, this one deeper, longer. Dear God, she tasted of the caramel apple he’d bought her when they’d first arrived, along her own sweetness. The combined essence weakened his knees and hardened his dick until he was ready to take her right here in front of the crowd.
“Do you know how long I’ve wondered what it would be like to kiss you?” She leaned against him, her breath a caress on his cheek.
A security guard for the stadium tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me but y’all have to move back to your seats. You’re blocking the aisle.”
Tabby raised her head and frowned. Before she could argue, Zac led her back to their seats. “He’s just doin’ his job. It’s a fire hazard, doll.”
The music switched yet again to another upbeat number and Zac returned to enjoying watching Tabatha. Once the show was over, Tabby laced her fingers with his and let him lead her through the crowd back to the midway.
Screams from the rides surrounded them, the flashing lights of the Tilt-a-Whirl and the various other rides lit their way. Trucks and booths covered in signs offering fried pickles, fried Mars bars, fried cheesecake and fried catfish vied for their business.
“You hungry? You want some funnel cake or something?”
She snorted. “How can you still think of eating after the turkey leg and sweet potato you had?”
“Hey, that was dinner. This is dessert.” He held up a finger to order one from the guy in the truck.
Once he had in his order in hand, he tore off a piece and dipped the end in the strawberry syrup. “Here, have a piece. You know you want it.”
He laughed when she opened her mouth and accepted his bribe with no resistance at all. And as he’d anticipated, proceeded to share the rest of the treat with him. “You know I would have bought you your own.”
“But it’s not as fun as sharing, is it?” She lowered her eyelids as she accepted the final piece. His cock punched against his zipper when she closed her lips around his fingers, and licked at the dregs of syrup. Holy crap. She knew exactly how to push a guy’s buttons. Once she finished, she lifted her gaze to his. “You know I have much better desserts back at my place.”
“Hey, don’t diss my cake. I look forward to having one of these all year.”
She patted his stomach, sending a zing right down to his cock. God help him should anyone passing by noticed his semi. “Guess I’ll just have to come up with my own recipe and put it on the menu at the diner.”
“Then you’d better reserve a permanent booth for me, because I’ll be there every night.” He lifted her hand from his stomach and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Hell, I might just move in full time.”
They continued to wander the midway, competing with each other at various games—she won a stuffed bear at a break-a-plate booth, and he won a giant four-foot stuffed banana, complete with dreadlocks, in the milk bottle game. It was just past midnight when he caught her burying her face in the giant banana, trying to hide a yawn.
He juggled the stuffed animals and shepherded her toward the front gate. “Come on, kitten, let’s get you home.”
Home. Which meant another night with his legs hanging off the end of her bed, and Yoshi head-butting him at the crack of get-the-hell-up-and-feed-me. Of course, she’d fed Yoshi before they’d left, and bein’ as tomorrow was a Sunday…
Once they were in his truck and buckled in, he asked, “You don’t have to open the diner until ten tomorrow, do you?”
“That’s right.”
“So how about we go back to my place tonight?”
“Why? Are you tired of Yoshi jumping on your lap and kneading your balls with his claws?” Which the little bugger had done three times last night, and once this morning, after she’d left.
“It’s more about gettin’ you in my king-sized bed.” And his shower, in his hot tub, anywhere he could get her.
She flattened her palm over his straining fly and grinned. “Looks like someone’s not tired.”
Huh. Guess he wasn’t. “We could just sleep, you know.”
If she kept up that rubbing action, he was going to come before they made it home.
Maybe they could do it right here to take some of the edge off. Shit. Half the town would have a clear view of them getting it on as they left the fair grounds. It wouldn’t bother him much but he’d be damned if he’d give anyone a reason to disparage Tabby.
Plus she had to be plum worn out after him keeping her up late the last couple of nights and her running around at the diner all day, plus all the walking they’d done here at the fair.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. You’re having second thoughts, aren’t you? And don’t try to lie to me—the mercury in your sex barometer is droppin’.”
He snorted. “Sex barometer?”
“You’re going from a stiffy to an iffy.”
His laugh erupted without thinking. “You’ve always had such a way with words.”
“What can I say? I have a lot of talents.” She tugged on his zipper and slipped her hand beneath the denim.
With a growl, he undid his seat belt, caught the back of her head in his hand and kissed her.
He placed his free hand on her knee, then slid it up beneath her skirt until he found the junction of her thighs. Her breath hitched when he brushed the fabric of her panties aside. He stroked her softness with his thumb, until her pupils dilated, just before her lids fluttered closed.
Her whispered “Oh Zac” followed by a breathy “yes” and the scent of her arousal filling the cab sent his need to get into her spiraling.
“Think of what I can do when I get you naked and stretched out on my bed…”
Knock Knock Knock.
Zac jumped, and turned to find a police officer staring in at them, his face in shadows from beneath the brim of his cap. His pulse racing, Zac shifted back behind the wheel and rolled down the window. Thank God it was Anderson, a guy he’d known since high school and not the sheriff who would probably bust his ass for public indecency. “Shit, Brett, you damn near gave me a heart attack.”
“Uh huh.” The officer’s lips tilted slightly as his all-to-knowing gaze slid from Tabby who
was frantically pulling her skirt over her thighs to focus on Zac’s gaping zipper. “Thought maybe you were having some trouble with your truck and here I find you…”
Play it cool, like nothing at all was going on, because you’ll look like a teenaged idiot if you start fumbling to zip your fly now. “Yeah, well, everything’s good.”
Or it was before you interrupted us.
“Uh huh,” Brett thumped the side of the car with his fist. “Take Miss Tabatha home, Buchanan. Makin’ out with a woman is a lot more romantic in a bed than in the front seat of your truck, I promise. And there’s less chance of ending up the stars of someone else’s YouTube video. And for God’s sake, zip your damned fly, will you?”
His chuckle hung in the air as the deputy headed back to his vehicle.
Fighting the urge to thump his head onto the steering wheel and curse, Zac settled his cock back into place and re-zipped his fly.
Her eyes wide, Tabby glanced over her shoulder as he eased the truck through the gate and onto the side road. When Brett flipped on his right hand signal seconds after Zac, she gnawed at her bottom lip. “He’s following us.”
“He was probably headed this direction anyway.” He bet the bastard was grinning, enjoying the discomfort he knew Zac was in right now, both from the case of blue balls he was suffering as well as the humiliation of being caught like a damned horny teenager.
Two blocks up, Zac was stopped at a red light when his cell phone blasted the call-to-duty signal. Talk about lousy timing. As a volunteer, he had the option of not going if he wanted but if it turned out someone was trapped and needed rescuing, he couldn’t live with his conscience if he didn’t go. It was an explanation his father had often given when Zac, in his most self-centered teen years, had complained about coming second to his father’s duty. He’d never really understood until his father had taken him to one of the sites the next day, and talked about the kids who had been trapped in their bedroom. The kids his dad had rescued.
The call ended, then restarted immediately. Its tone changed to an “all hands respond” emergency that he couldn’t ignore.