Lone Star Burn: Watching you (Kindle Worlds Novella) Read online

  He didn’t want to take his hand away from her face, so he swiped his thumb along the crease of her lips once more. The puff of her breath along the pad of his digit dragged his mind down the road where he sucked it into his mouth and they went from there.

  Teena moved out of his touch and turned her back to him, going back to her food.

  He noticed the others in the diner watching their interaction and he smiled. This was going to be fun. Raking his gaze over her back, he took in the holster at her spine. He wanted to lick her skin. All over. Moving directly behind her, he bent and blocked her in with his arms. He dipped his head and kissed the side of her neck, inhaling the soft scent of her shampoo.

  She froze beneath him. “Marshal or not, West. Back off or I’ll bury you right here.”

  “Marshal on Marshal violence is frowned upon.” He didn’t back up any, instead he leaned forward a fraction more. “I can think of better ways to spend Marshal on Marshal time.” God, he wanted this woman, wanted her riding him in bed, bent over before him as he drove them both to distraction.

  She ate a long fry and reached behind her, grabbing his crotch.

  Patrick gasped, shocked she would do such a thing. Then again, this is the woman who kicked the ass of every opponent she went up against in hand to hand training. “You want it, precious, all you have to do is ask. No need to twist.”

  She pivoted around on the stool until she faced him still braced in. A place he liked her to be. “I said to back off. I’m using my non-dominant hand for this which means I’m free and clear to draw.”

  “I like your fire, darling. Always have. You seem to sneak away from me each night we get together.”

  Her fingers tightened around his cock and he bit back his moan of pleasure. Her touch was electric.

  “I won’t give you another warning.”

  The hard glint in her eyes while she hid passion told him she wasn’t lying. So he gave her the space she required. Her hand fell away as he took his single step back.

  “So, I take it then, you two know one another?” Travis posed the question with a smile.

  Patrick stared at the back of her head when she faced her food once more. “We do.” He reached for another fry. “What are you doing here, Mason?”

  “I’ll swing by your hotel room if I get it fixed any faster,” Travis interjected.

  “Thank you,” she said her tone much gentler.

  Patrick took Travis’ unoccupied stool and angled his body toward her. Christ, he wanted to carry her out of here on his shoulder and directly to his room. He cleared his throat and gestured for a Coke which was all he ever drank when he came in here. “You know you can’t ignore me like this. I’m not going away.” He stared at her set expression. Yep, getting to her. The tightness in her jaw brought across that bit of information.

  “What do you want?” She finally put down her burger and looked at him.

  “What I’ve always wanted. You.”

  “Seriously? We have something wonderful going on between us. One night at a time. Nothing more.”

  He shook his head. “I disagree, there was a lot more than that between us. More than just the passion, the sweaty sex, the moaning, the—”

  “Oh my God, can you stop putting it out there? Everyone doesn’t need to know that you and I had a thing.” Anger put a glint in her eyes and her lips flattened.

  “They already do so nothing to hide now.”

  “I’m a federal agent, carrying a sidearm, and I’m tired and cranky. Do you really want to push this issue, West?”

  “I want to push a lot when it comes to you, Teena. You know how much I enjoyed that.”

  She exhaled sharply and pulled out some bills. Tossing them down beside her plate, she rose. “Thank you for the food.” Moving away, she walked out the door without another word to him.

  He went after her, jogged to catch up to the natural swing of her stride that did harsh things to his libido. “Teena. Teena. Mason!”

  Looking disgusted, she stopped. “Haven’t you done enough?”

  “I’m an ass, sorry. Let me make it up to you.”

  “No. I don’t need you to make it up to me. I need out of this town and back to NOLA.”

  So that’s where she’d been. “Can we start over?”

  She yawned. “I’m exhausted. Just got off an assignment, offered to drive back, am suffering from bruised ribs, car broke down and was sitting out in this godforsaken heat for nearly four hours until this man y’all call B came by and got me. I tried to enjoy a meal and you come in and announce to everyone there that we’ve fucked. I don’t have anything left. I’m going to bed.” Teena held up her hands and backed away. “Alone.” Another yawn and she walked off once more.

  This time, he let her go.

  Yes, he’d truly been an ass but seeing Travis that close to her had sent him spiraling down a dark road. He’d never forgotten this woman and seeing her in person had brought all of his thoughts of her directly back to the forefront. He understood he hadn’t any claim on her but that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted claim. He wanted his ring on her finger. He wanted her name to be his.

  He didn’t move until he observed her heading into the hotel. Fort Mavis wasn’t that huge of a place and there wasn’t a ton of crime but he wasn’t taking the risk, despite the fact she was more than capable of handling herself.

  A buzzing at his hip dragged his attention from the door she’d just vanished beyond. “West,” he replied answering.

  “When are you coming back?” His director Seamus O’Hara asked. “I thought you were coming back today.”

  “Changed my mind. You’re the one who told me I should take more time. I’ll be here a few more days.” Especially, since Teena is in my hometown and where I have complete and unfettered access.

  “Your parents doing okay?” A hint of worry crept into his boss’ voice.

  “They are thanks. It will just be nice for me to hang and help them out a few more days.”

  “Do what you need to. But don’t think I don’t know that Deputy Marshal Mason is in that small town as well.” He hung up.

  “How the fuck does he know this?” He returned his phone and shook his head. Deputy Marshal. He smiled and headed home. Tomorrow would be full of catching up, because he had plans with that little spitfire.

  αβ

  At six the following morning, Patrick carried a box of pastries in one hand as he walked by the front desk of the motel and down to the room his target was in. Pausing in front of the door, he took a fortifying breath then knocked.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Teena said when she stared at him after opening the barrier between them. “It’s too early for this.”

  Blood rushed to his groin, swelling his cock within his jeans. Damn, she was a firecracker and right now, one who looked deliciously rumpled. Her hair fell free around her shoulders giving her a, ‘I’ve just been sexed and well’ look. Her tiny red camisole barely reached her belly button, showing off the diamond twinkling there. A pair of skimpy blue shorts covered her upper thighs.

  “Damn, you’re sexy.”

  “And it’s still early.”

  Her words may not have been welcoming but there was no denying the way her nipples tightened beneath the red top as he stared.

  He swung the box of pastries over before her and opened the lid. “I come with gifts.” They were her weakness. He’d learned a lot by watching her during their classes.

  Shoving a hand through her curls, she stepped closer, bringing with her the subtle scent no other woman wore that he’d found. It reminded him of the happier times. Crisp green apples with a slight dusting of raw natural brown sugar.

  She pushed up on her toes to peer in the box—intended by Patrick who took advantage and stared at the more exposed skin on her body—and reached in to withdraw an éclair. The smile on her face had him jealous of the pastry. With a purr, she wiped the small dollop of frosting in the rose shape on top and sucked it off her finge
r.

  He cleared his throat and pushed by her, shutting the door behind him. “I thought we could catch up.” When they were together, there wasn’t any talk.

  Her bed looked rumpled and he struggled to push away his thoughts of messing it up even more. Digging out his own treat, he put the box on the foot of the bed and took the chair against the wall while she parked her taut ass by the pink box.

  She sat Indian style and took a bite, her groan of pleasure, coated his cock with steel and he gripped his vanilla frosting filled donut tighter, fingers digging into the soft dough.

  Her tongue flicked out and got the leftover from the corner of her mouth. “So talk,” she said seconds before she took another bite.

  “I heard you were now a Deputy Marshal.”

  “I am.” She blinked. “How’d you hear?”

  “You’re young and ambitious. You rising through the ranks as you have been doing, tends to be noticed in all the offices. Especially, in DC.”

  “Is that where you’re at now?”

  He stretched out his legs. “It is, been there for three years now. Love it, the hustle of the city. It has its own pulse.” He ate a bit. “And you?”

  “Still in NOLA. Love it there, it’s my home.” She finished off hers in short order and did her best not to look back in the box.

  He chuckled. “I got them for you. You want more, eat more.”

  A second was in her hand. “This is better than sex,” she said after indulging in another bite of a Bavarian cream filled, chocolate covered donut.

  “Not been having the right kind of sex then.”

  She slashed her gaze to him but didn’t comment.

  “What was your last assignment?” He needed to try and engage in conversation before he jumped her. Right?

  “We were escorting Diego Martinez back to Mexico where the Federales took over his protection.”

  “Serious piece of scum right there.” Drug dealer, human trafficker, all around jackass of the lowest order.

  “Can’t say I wasn’t pleased to make him Mexico’s responsibility once more.” She stuck her finger in the cream and sucked it clean.

  He prayed to any and all who may be listening, to end this torture sitting here watching her tongue swirl around the tip of her finger before sucking it in between her lips. “And the bruised ribs?”

  “Dumbass got the smart idea of bolting before he was handed over. Thought he could overpower me. And I mean, sure he probably could but I’m not there to look good. I was there because I can do my job and am damn good at it.”

  There was no disguising the anger in her tone. He pushed to his feet and walked to stand before her. Tipping her chin up, he stared in her eyes. “You are one hell of an agent, if not you wouldn’t have been put up to a Deputy Marshal. Don’t doubt yourself.”

  “Hard not to,” she admitted.

  He pulled her up and wrapped his arms around her. Christ, she fit against him perfectly. He’d missed this contact. Lowering his face, he covered her mouth with his. Gentle. Soft. Tender. He stroked along the seam of her lips, tasting the donuts she’d ingested.

  Her eyes darkened and she wrapped her arms around him, responding without hesitation.

  He pushed into her mouth, her tongue was there to meet his. They danced along each other, stroking, lapping, twining. He wound his arms around her waist, drawing her tighter still. He’d missed this, she was so passionate about everything. Never hid her emotions. Nor her fire. Patrick slid a hand down her side, cautiously as he didn’t want to aggravate her injury until he could grip her ass.

  She lifted a leg and hooked it about is hip. Her core rocked against the iron rod in his pants. Her moans pushed through his blood like flames from the heart of a volcano. He lay her back and covered her with his body.

  She stiffened, eyes going wide as she stilled.

  He pushed up and stared at her. “What?”

  “We just squished that box of pastries all over my back. It’s gooey and slimy.” Her lips twitched. “Oh, my God this is horrible, please get off me. It’s through my shirt onto my skin and creeping into places I don’t want to think about in any way. Raspberry filling isn’t supposed to go some spots and I believe this has violated every last one of those areas.”

  He got up and helped her to her feet after. Glancing past her he laughed, sure enough the box was flattened, all the filled donuts were smashed and everywhere. Angling his head to peer over her shoulder, he laughed again at the jelly, cream, dough mixture on her back and inching downward. There was some powdered sugar on her as well.

  “Not funny, West.”

  “Oh, it kind of is.”

  She deadpanned him then reached behind her and flung some at him, hitting him in the face. Her peal of amusement followed. “That’s funny.”

  “Woman,” he warned.

  She blinked and gave him a saucy grin.

  There she was. The woman he’d been able to spend a night with. Not serious.

  Patrick lunged for her, wrapping her up in his arms, and taking her down to the bed. They grunted and he rolled her over, pinning her beneath him.

  “I’ve missed you, Teena,” he murmured seconds before claiming her mouth.

  Chapter Two

  “Why do you want me to meet your parents?” Teena asked. Her body continued to hum from his kisses. She sat up, knowing she really needed to shower and get this food off her. Between passionate kisses, Patrick had asked if he could introduce her to his folks.

  “Because I think they would like you and you them. I know my father would.” He remained stretched out on her bed, rumpled and delicious looking. “It will just be a meal. Not an engagement dinner.”

  Pain spiked her heart at the way he said that as if she was good enough to screw but not enough to marry. I need to get a grip and stop thinking this way. “Sure. Where do I go?”

  “I’ll bring you.”

  “I have some things to do this morning, I can swing by later.”

  “Darling, I’ll take you wherever you need to go. I’m not risking my father’s wrath by making you walk to their house.”

  “I’ve got to get out of these sticky clothes.”

  His eyes flashed as he ran them over her. “Let me help.” He inched toward her and reached out with one hand, inching up the hem of her shirt to expose her toned belly.

  “How am I going to explain this bedspread to the housekeeping staff?”

  He flashed a satisfied grin. “No clue. Come on. Let’s get cleaned up.” He got off the bed and pulled her after. Before she could say one way or the other, he had them in the bathroom and was adjusting the water.

  She had her lower lip in her teeth when he faced her once more. He captured her chin and brushed a slow, drugging kiss on her lips. Her weakened knees trembled. It wasn’t fair he had so much power. At least over her body’s response.

  “Arms up,” he ordered.

  She complied and he carefully removed her sticky camisole. Topless, she watched his reaction to her bared chest.

  “I’d forgotten,” he uttered, dipping his head allowing his warm breath to pass over her breasts. “Just how damn perfect you were. I thought I recalled but I was off. Way off.”

  He flicked his tongue over the pebbled tip of her nipple ad she trembled. Another two laps and he took her in his mouth. She moaned at the feel. His hot mouth drew hard on her breast, his tongue tormenting the point as he sucked.

  Sinking her hand into his thick black hair, she anchored him to her. It was akin to her being the kindling and he the match struck to set her ablaze—and when she went—she went up fast and hot. Only this man had that capability. She wasn’t a prude by any means but compared to Patrick, all other men—and no there weren’t tons—had to work to get a reaction even near to this one. But for this man, no contest.

  He hummed against the hypersensitive nipple then moved to her other breast and paid the same homage to it. She fought to stay on her feet. As he continued sharing attention between her breasts
, he lowered his hands to push her shorts down

  “Oh God,” she gasped as he covered her slit and pushed two fingers deep inside her. He kissed his way back up her neck until their mouths were again, aligned.

  “Yes, this is what I remember. That moan, that cry. This slickness and tightness around my fingers.” He nibbled on her lower lip before stepping back and stripping.

  Her breath caught. Man had gotten even more handsome if possible. She licked her lips and reached for him, he met her half way. Somehow, he got his shoes off and together, they stepped under the steaming stream of water.

  He cupped her face and kissed her as the water thrummed her skin, working out some of the many kinks she had. Patrick angled them so it hit her back with her front covered by him. His hands roamed everywhere before settling on her ass, directing her pussy to line up to his cock.

  Her whimper was eaten by his kiss. She slipped her arms up under his and latched onto his shoulders, not wanting to let go. Water sluiced down their bodies as they relearned each other. Kissing, touching, exploring.

  “We should get clean,” he said against her mouth.

  “Dirty, then clean,” she countered with her own offer.

  “I like the way you think, Mason.” He squeezed one ass cheek before moving his hand back to between her legs and pushed a finger inside her.

  “Yes,” she exhaled the word, drawing it out long and breathy. She flexed her fingers, digging her nails into the muscles of his shoulders.

  “Not nearly loud enough,” he said adding another finger.

  She rose up on her tiptoes as he pushed into her. “Shit,” she moaned.

  Blinking away the water running from her hair down her face, she looked into the eyes of the man in the shower with her. The passion in his gaze burned her, there was no avoiding what he wanted.

  He captured her nipple and grazed his teeth over the tip while he worked his fingers within her. It didn’t take long and she cried out as she came. He held her up and his smoky eyes hooked her as he removed his fingers, slid his arm around her back and lifted her up to meet his lips. “Stay here,” he ordered.