Susan Mallery - Hot On Her Heels

“I’d never hit you,” he repeated.

She did finally look at him, at the familiar dark eyes, the full sensual mouth that knew secrets about her body even she hadn’t discovered.

“I know, but sometimes knowing isn’t enough.”

“You’re not that scared little girl anymore.”

“I haven’t been for a long time,” she agreed. “But that doesn’t mean she can’t influence me. We can talk and talk, and you’ll never get it. You don’t understand the fear. I control it through training and my job. I’m in better shape than you, but if it was a fight to the death, you have sheer size and strength on your side.”

He stood up suddenly. The coffee table went skidding back a few feet. “I’m not that guy,” he yelled. “There’s no fight to the death. Are you going to spend the rest of your life hiding because the alternative is to take a risk?”

“I’m dealing with the aftermath of having my father beat the crap out of me for years. It will probably always be something I wrestle with. What you did tonight, with Jed…I get it. I know why you did it. I understand the motivation, the fury you feel. I totally get the desire to protect those around you.” She’d almost said “protect what’s yours,” but that was yet another place she wasn’t willing to go.

“You did what you thought was right,” she continued, standing. “But there are consequences to every action.”

“Meaning now you don’t trust me?”

“Meaning I never saw you as physically dangerous before,” she admitted. “I have to figure out what I’m going to do with that information.”

He walked to the end of the kitchen, then turned back. “Dammit, Dana. Don’t do this. Don’t go there. I’m not a violent man. I’ve seen violence. I’ve lived it.” He ripped open the front of his dress shirt, exposing the scars. “I still have nightmares. Not that often, but they come. And I wake up soaked in sweat, trying not to give in to the terror.” He hesitated. “I know what it’s like to live with fear and how hard it is to let it go.”

He crossed to her and cupped her face in his hands. “I’d never do that to you. I’d never do it to anyone.”

She saw the pain in his eyes and behind it, a truth. That ugliness changed a man forever. It couldn’t be helped. But how the change happened was determined by the man’s character. Garth hadn’t given in to the darkness that could have claimed him. If anyone had reason, it was him. Even his revenge against Jed had been civilized and thought out. He didn’t need to hurt someone physically to feel like a man.

“There’s a part of me that wants to fly to Florida and have it out with your old man,” he admitted, still staring into her eyes. “I want him to feel what it was like.”

“Would you do that for me?”

He didn’t hesitate. “No. He’s old and it serves no purpose. It wouldn’t change the past. If he were still a threat to you, I’d take him on in a heartbeat, but he’s not. Empty violence teaches nothing.”

“You used violence on Jed.”

“I used fear. There’s a difference.” He dropped his hands to her shoulders. “How much have I screwed up things?”

She touched his chest, traced a scar. “Not as much as you’d think.”

“Yeah?”

She looked up at him and smiled, then raised herself up on tiptoe and kissed him.

She’d been avoiding physical contact with Garth as much as possible, telling herself that she’d imagined the passion between them.

But now she was unable to resist the feel of his mouth on hers. She needed to be close to him, to touch all of him and be touched by him. Their connection had been broken and she wanted it restored.

He didn’t disappoint. The second her lips met his, he kissed her with a hunger that burned. His arms tightened, then they were straining together, as if trying to climb inside each other.

She parted for him, then groaned as he plunged his tongue inside of her mouth. She met him stroke for stroke, wanting to excite him as much as he excited her. Wanting turned liquid and flooded her. Even as they kissed, she tugged at his shirt. His hands swept under her T-shirt and found her breasts.

His fingers were warm and knowing. He cupped her curves, then brushed across her already tight nipples. Even through the fabric of her bra, the gentle touches aroused her.

She touched his back, then rubbed her hands up and down his chest. It wasn’t enough. They had to touch more.

“Wait,” she gasped, pulling back.

She jerked her T-shirt over her head, then unfastened her bra. Before she’d even tossed it away, he’d already bent his head and took one of her nipples in his mouth. He sucked deeply, using his tongue to caress sensitive flesh. She clung to him, feeling the tugs all the way between her legs. Her blood pulsed, causing her to swell.

Without thinking, she pushed down her sweats. Her panties went with them. Even as he shifted to her other breast, he slipped a hand between her thighs and found her wet, swollen center. Two fingers pressed against that one spot, then began to circle it.

He straightened enough to kiss her mouth. Their tongues tangled, she held on to his shoulders, all the while his fingers created magic. She couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but feel the pressure. He moved steadily, rubbing over and around. Her body tensed. She wanted to part her legs but her stupid sweatpants were in the way. If she could just open a little more and he kept doing that, she would come in a heartbeat.

She tried to kick them away. He broke the kiss then pushed her back a couple of steps.

“Table,” he said, his voice thick with passion.

She stepped out of her sweatpants and panties. He grabbed his shirt and put it on the wood table, then helped her jump up onto the cool surface. She parted her legs and went to grab his hand to show him exactly where she wanted him, but he was busy unfastening his belt and shoving down the zipper.

He pushed into her, filling every inch of her. She stared into his eyes, seeing the fire there, knowing it was matched by the need on her own face. He pulled out and thrust in again, but this time he used his fingers to rub her at the same time.

It only took a few seconds for her to lose herself in her release. Every muscle in her body convulsed as she cried out, clinging to him.

He waited until the shudders had stopped before grabbing her hips and hanging on as he pumped in and out of her. Soon he stiffened and groaned.

They held on to each other. The sound of their rapid breathing filled the quiet kitchen.

“Are you all right?” he asked, stroking her head and kissing her bare shoulder.

“Yes.”

And for that moment she was. She wouldn’t think about tomorrow right now. Or the day after. Or the niggling sense that she was afraid of the wrong thing. It wasn’t that Garth would hurt her physically that should have her on edge. It was that the more she knew him, the more she liked him. And that liking made her vulnerable.

For the first time she realized the true danger wasn’t to her body, but was instead to her heart.

IZZY SHOWED UP the next morning with Danish, coffee and a copy of the paper. Dana had spent the night in Garth’s bed and there hadn’t been a lot of sleep on the agenda, so she was still groggy and not feeling like she wanted company.

“I should take the food and run,” she said, then yawned. “But that would require too much energy.”

Izzy followed her into the kitchen. “Someone got to bed late last night,” her friend teased. “Want to share details?”

Dana got out plates and napkins, then led the way to the dining room. The small table in the kitchen should probably be wiped down before anyone ate at it.

“He’s your brother,” she said as she took a seat and reached for one of the containers of coffee. “Are you sure you want details?”

“Never mind.” Izzy had already gone through the paper. She pushed a folded page toward Dana. “Brace yourself. You made the society page.”

The hot coffee seemed to get stuck halfway down Dana’s throat. For a second she couldn’t seem to swallow. She finally managed to get it down only to cough until she gagged.

“W-what?” she managed, then cleared her throat. “There’s a society page in the paper?”

“Uh-huh, and you’re the star. That’s what happens when you go out with one of the city’s most eligible bachelors. Being one of Garth’s women comes at a price. By the way, you look great.”

She turned the page so Dana could see the picture of herself standing next to Garth in front of Glory’s Gate.

Dana felt the beginnings of a headache right behind her eyes. “Seriously? I didn’t see anyone with a camera.” She’d been too freaked about the whole party to notice details. That didn’t bode well for her returning to a career in law enforcement. “I’m losing my edge.”

“You were probably trying not to trip in high heels.”

“True, but not an excuse.”

Dana studied the picture. She had to admit, she looked good. The dress fit perfectly and Lexi had worked magic with hair and makeup. But seeing herself with a caption under the picture was beyond surreal.

There were several other pictures, including one of Skye with Mitch, and an article about the fund-raiser. She scanned it.

“They print the menu?”

“The little people are curious,” Izzy teased. “Now that you’re no longer one of them, you’ll have to learn to be kind.”

“Bite me.”

“That would be Garth’s job.”

Dana drank more coffee. The society page. “How do I keep this from happening again?” she asked.

“Avoid society events.”

Dana didn’t think it would be too hard. Then she remembered something else her friend had said. “What do you mean ‘one of his women’? He has others?”

Izzy shifted in her seat. “Not that I know of. It was just an expression. I’m sure he’s not dating anyone else.”