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He felt . . . stuck on this woman and had every intention of staying by her side, not only to protect her, but until he could figure out why being with her smacked him with the force of a two-by-four to the forehead.

“I want you, too.” In the dark, she closed her eyes and smiled a bit shyly.

Instead of annoying him or making him wish they could just skip to the fucking, Decker found an answering smile stretching his lips. So sweet. So honest in her every response. He felt a bit guilty for lying to her about his reasons for picking her up at the bar, for being here with her now. But he couldn’t apologize for wanting to shield her from a potentially ugly fate and keep her safe. Until this played out, he’d thoroughly enjoy her goodness.

“I want to suck . . .” She glanced down and swallowed, watching her fingers slowly move over his aching dick.

His breath caught. Holy fuck! Even the hint that she wanted her mouth on him made him harder than steel-reinforced concrete.

“My cock?”

“I’m not used to that word.” Her voice trembled, and her hand shook. “But yes.”

He thrust his hands in her hair and led her down to his waiting erection. “Be my guest.”

Her back stiffened, and she tensed against him. “Don’t laugh at me, but I don’t know how.”

Dumbass Owen hadn’t ever sank in between those luscious lips? Given what Rachel had said about her ex, Decker wondered if the moron had even tried or had he found that a time-consuming waste, too? Owen’s loss was absolutely his gain.

“There’s no right or wrong way. Open wide, suck deep, and do what feels natural.”

“All right.” She looked adorably nervous, and he loved the idea that he would be the first inside her plump, pink lips. Yes, it was caveman of him. So fucking what?

Rachel didn’t hesitate or study the situation. She had a lot of gumption when she wanted to; he was learning that already. In fact, he liked her for it.

Then her lips closed around the head of his cock, and he wasn’t thinking anything anymore.

She had to stretch wide to fit her lips around the swollen mushroom head, and the sight of it sent a hot rush of blood south, engorging him even more. He’d had plenty of blow jobs in his life, but this one was different.

Because she was different. No denying that.

If he hadn’t been solicited to kill Rachel and had simply run into her in a bar, he would have taken a long look at her, licked his lips, and kept walking. She was attractive, no doubt. As well as warm and kind—two things he would have sworn he didn’t need in a sexual partner.

But at his age, maybe it was time to realize that life really was about more than the next adrenaline rush of danger and getting laid.

Hell, listen to him, all mature and shit. Decker rolled his eyes. Actually, they rolled into the back of his head as Rachel sighed, sucked back up his length with a flat, wide tongue, then opened around his girth to take him even deeper. God, she wasn’t spectacular at it, and that didn’t fucking matter at all. Knowing that she was trying, that she was trusting him, that she was giving him something she’d never given anyone . . . all of that turned him on. If she’d been insanely good at it, too, he would probably—

Oh hell, he’d thought too soon. Suddenly, she found a coordinated rhythm, a steady up-down that encompassed most of his shaft, paid extra attention to the head, then—fuck!—she cupped his balls. Now that was beyond stunning.

And if she did this for very long, he’d be totally done for.

“Rachel, beautiful . . .” He slid his fingers deeper into her hair and curled them into fists, gently tugging on her hair. “Baby, slowly. You don’t want to—Oh, shit!” He hissed in a long breath, then tensed and shuddered. She might be a novice, but she’d quickly conquered that inexpert thing. That had to be one of the shortest learning curves in history.

“I’m doing it right?” she murmured, then licked the head like a damn ice cream cone, over and over and . . .

Jesus, she was killing him.

“Oh, yeah,” he gasped. “And then some.”

She giggled. “You sound distressed.”

No shit. “That is not funny.”

“Maybe not to you . . .” Rachel flashed a coy smile at him, clearly happy with herself, before she set back to her task.

Decker closed his eyes and let the slow, burning heat of her mouth surround him. An intense suction that made him shudder came next. He jolted under her leisurely bobbing head. When her tongue lapped around the sensitive head, then a tender drag of her teeth followed, he groaned aloud and nearly hit the roof.

He’d had better in his life . . . maybe. He couldn’t really remember right now. But no woman had ever paid so much attention to his reactions, adjusted so quickly, all to so obviously please him. That reality set him ablaze.

Swallowing back another groan of pleasure clawing up from his chest, he tried to nudge her away. Of course, his hips had other ideas, thrusting up into her sweet, pouty mouth and making his cock right at home.

“Rachel, you need to stop.”

“Why?”

He focused in on her sparkling eyes and swollen lips before she engulfed him again. With a groan, he closed his eyes and indulged for a moment, shafting her lips with his steely length for a few sublime seconds. Then he tugged on her hair just enough to bring her away from his cock and sat up.

“If I have to pick where I’m coming next, it’s going to be deep inside that tight pussy again, beautiful. Lie back for me.” Decker rose to his knees and nudged her to her back. “Spread your legs.”

“But I was having fun,” she protested, not complying with his demand.

“I promise you can have more fun later.” Because there was no way he didn’t want to immerse himself between her silken lips again.

Then he didn’t give her another opportunity to talk. With his own body, he urged her back, eclipsing her. Decker looked down at her, tousled dark curls, rosy cheeks, sweet lips, pleading eyes. Christ, he wanted this woman.

When he’d first heard that some ass-hat wanted her dead, he had felt an undeniable urge to keep her alive. When he’d seen her picture, the itch to have her under him had broken out across his body like allover hives he knew he’d have to scratch away. Now that he’d seen her, met her, talked to her, fucked her . . . maybe a few nights with her might not be enough, after all.

Well, wasn’t this quite a U-turn from his attitude the previous afternoon? But damn it, he was always packing up, moving on, setting out for the next “big adventure.” Color him cynical, but adventure often wound up with him chasing trigger-happy dirtbags in third-world shitholes and either freezing his ass off, sweating to death, or picking sand out of some really uncomfortable places. At thirty-three, wasn’t it time to stop playing the grown-up version of cops and robbers and latch on to something real? Wasn’t it time to stop settling for Ms. Right-now?

Rachel was looking pretty damn real and right for him. He wanted to lay her out, fuck her, exhaust her, wake her up, and do it again until she was happily spent and clinging to him. Yeah, that sounded like an awesome version of paradise.

Tearing into a fresh condom, Decker rolled it down the desperate flesh of his cock. He didn’t waste time with niceties except to check that she was wet and ready. The pair of fingers encountered slick, swollen flesh. Oh yeah, they were a go. She wasn’t just wet, but juicy. Perfect.

Lining himself up, he pushed in one inch at a time, checking for discomfort. Her body had quickly adjusted to his size because she didn’t have any difficulty taking every bit of him on the first agonizing thrust. But slow and steady had won that race. The urge to sprint to the finish now was strong—because when didn’t coming inside a gorgeous woman feel good?—but he wanted to see her go off like a fireworks show first.