Over the years, in places all over the world, Matt had learned to trust his instincts. Whenever he faced a decision with no clear-cut answer, he invariably went with his gut. Usually, it worked out well, but then, seldom were his instincts at war with themselves like they were right now. His gut was telling him to run like hell.
A more primitive urge pulsed louder.
As he climbed back behind the wheel, he admitted that some instincts were simply stronger than others. He, apparently, had surrendered to it.
As Torie buckled her seat belt, he reached for the CD case he’d rescued from his own truck. Moments later, pulsating hard rock mood music filled the cab. “So, where we taking the mutt?”
As the Stones rolled off a drum riff, Torie reached over and turned down the stereo. “A place called Kountry Klippers. Do you know it?”
“Yeah. We’ll be there in five.”
They dropped the dog off at the groomer, and while Torie cooed and cuddled her goodbyes, Matt made arrangements for the groomer to board Gigi overnight. Now that he’d decided which body part to listen to, damned if he’d let the four-legged puff ball interfere.
Next Matt made a quick call to Les to check the readiness of the lake house adjoining his property, making sure he’d have the privacy and other necessities he’d need for tonight. Les confirmed that the babe parade still didn’t know he owned the house, thank goodness. There were steaks in the fridge and wine in the cellar and locks on the doors. Now all they had to do was get there. When Torie finally tore herself away from her dog and joined him, Matt was pacing the parking lot.
“I’m sorry, Matt. This is the first time I’ve allowed Gigi out of my sight since the oven incident and it’s difficult to leave her. Maybe it’d be better if we went and had dinner while she’s being groomed. Then we could pick her back up on our way to ... well, wherever you’re taking me.”
“No.” It was all Matt could do not to scoop her up and throw her over his shoulder, then into the truck.
“But—”
“Gigi will be fine. I want to take you to bed, Victoria. Immediately.”
“You want a one-night stand, which is—”
“Standing. Lying. Sitting.”
“Oh, wow. Listen, Matt, that’s irresponsible enough as it is, but to leave my dog—”
“Swimming. Have you ever made love in a lake, Victoria?”
She reached for the truck to steady herself. “Water sex? Oh, talk about fantasy.”
“You can talk. I prefer to act.”
“Oh wow oh wow.” As his grin slowly dawned, she insisted, “I’m not easy, Callahan.”
“You’re telling me.” His tone was dry as he backed her toward his truck.
“I have my pride. But thinking about you naked and wet ...”
He growled low in his throat.
“Pride?” she muttered, then grumbled almost to herself, “Pride? Who am I kidding? At this point, I’m about ready to lay down in the parking lot for you.” She gave her head a disbelieving shake and added, “You might not believe it, but the fact that I even considered this ... this ... interlude ... is out of character for me.”
“Interlude is a nice word.” His gaze focused on the creamy length of her neck. He wanted to bite it.
He took another step forward and backed her against his truck. Heat from its sun baked metal wafted from its surface. He pressed his hot body against her front. He wondered which she thought was hotter.
“I figure it’s the stress,” she babbled as he leaned his head down and nibbled at that swanlike neck. “I wanted a timeout. An escape. A fantasy.”
“We’ll check my father’s attic.” Holding on to his control by a thread, Matt opened the passenger-side door. “I think one of my brothers stole a French maid’s costume and stashed it—”
“Not that kind of fantasy. It’s like I said before. Candlelight and soft music—not a quickie in an F150, Callahan. I want to wake up in your arms, not on your console.”
His hands grasped her waist and lifted her. “You want seduction.”
“I want romance.”
“I can do romance.” He set her in her seat, then grabbed a handful of her shirt at her breasts and pulled her toward him. This kiss was a slow, wet exploration designed to so distract her senses that she didn’t notice him loosening her shirt buttons until his hand slipped inside her bra and cupped her bare breast.
His rough palm spread over her soft, silky skin, cupping her, measuring her weight. He teased her nipple with his thumb and when she gasped against his mouth, he almost lost it.
A few minutes—or maybe hours—later, he ended the kiss, removed his hand, and shut the door. As he walked around to the driver’s-side door, he saw her looking into her visor mirror, fanning her rosy cheeks. Climbing into the cab, he heard her mutter, “Face it, Bradshaw. You are, too, easy.”
“I’m not complaining,” he observed.
They left the town of Brazos Bend on the main highway headed south. Matt concentrated on his driving for a time, effectively banking the heat between them. When he turned off the highway onto a two-lane farm-to-market road just about ten minutes from his lake place, he started in again. “What about fine red wine and dark chocolate?”
“What?”
“Do you find red wine and dark chocolate romantic?”
“Yes.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “Definitely.”
“Jazz or classical guitar?”
“I’m a John Coltrane fan.”
He tuned his satellite radio and the sultry sounds of a saxophone soon floated through the cab. “How about a starry sky and a full moon? Are those romantic?”
She glanced out the window to the star-studded sky above.
“Definitely.”
In a whiskey-smooth voice, he asked, “What about a man who wants you beyond reason?”
She visibly shuddered. “How much farther?”
“Ah, now, Victoria. We’re just getting started.”
Demon. Devil. Temptation driving a truck.
Torie’s thoughts spun as she watched his fingers beat a steady tempo on the steering wheel. Danger ... danger ... danger, it seemed to warn. Yet, he made her feel safe. And hot. And wet.
Man oh man. I’m losing it.
Actually, she’d lost it back in the parking lot when she’d agreed to this adventure.
What was she doing? Thirty minutes ago, she wouldn’t have let him touch her on a bet. Now she thought if he didn’t touch her soon, she might explode.
She needed this. The escape from the fear of the past few weeks. The fantasy that had haunted her since the island. She wanted to put aside reality for a little while and indulge. She wanted to have this man for one night with no regrets.
Torie sat back in her seat, closed her eyes, and asked herself if she was emotionally prepared to give herself under these circumstances. If she could pull it off without suffering regrets. “You don’t even like me. I’m the Evil Twin.”
“I’ve always been pulled toward the dark side.”
“But—”
“Listen, Shutterbug, I don’t know why it is, but you and I have enough chemistry between us to stock a research lab. I’m done fighting it. I suggest you do the same. I’ll give you the romance you want. I’ll make your body sing. Let that be enough.”
Torie drummed her fingers against her thigh. “Sing?”
“Like Kate Smith doing ‘God Bless America.’”
“Kate Smith?” Torie frowned. “Does that visual really work for you?”
A faint smile played across his mouth. “The only visual I have room for in my mind is the one of you in that scrap of a swimsuit on Soledad Island.”
Okay. That, she liked. The girl in her couldn’t help but be flattered.
The woman in her recalled her own vision—the one of Matt Callahan naked in the cave. Agent Yummy Buns.
All right. You win. No more second thoughts. “So, you mentioned something about a date?”
”I was thinking of a moonlight cruise. I keep a couple of runabouts at my lake cabin and the weather tonight is perfect. We’ll need to wait an hour or so before the moon comes up, but I figure we can find a way to pass the time.”
A moonlight cruise with Matt Callahan. Yeah, that could be romantic. “We could eat supper.”
He chuckled. “I have steaks in the fridge. I’ll cook for you if you’d like. After.”
“After?”
“Sex. We’re almost to the house, Victoria. I can’t wait any longer to have you.”
Whoa. She sat back and shut up and tried to remember how to breathe.
The truck’s headlights cut through the darkness and illuminated an armadillo swaggering across the pavement. Torie cleared her throat. “Beefsteak, right? No weird meats?”
He chuckled. “Honey, you’re welcome to sample any meat I have.”
“I was talking about armadillo.”
“I wasn’t.”
No, she hadn’t figured he was.
He turned off onto a narrow dirt road and stopped in front of an aluminum gate. She focused on his steady breathing, trying to calm her own. After fishing a key from the console, he said, “We’re here.”
As Matt climbed out of the truck to unlock the gate, Torie’s gaze lingered on the seat of his pants. He bent over to fit the key in the lock of the chain securing the gate shut, and she decided he’d understated the chemistry aspect. Pheromones must be as plentiful as oxygen molecules in the truck cab.
He pushed the gate open, then turned. Their gazes met and held, his blue eyes glowing like a cat’s eyes in the night, the heat in them setting her aflame.
With long-legged strides, he marched back to the truck and climbed in, never breaking eye contact. He reached across the console and hauled her against him, his mouth swooping down to kiss her hard.
Torie sighed into his mouth as his fingers delved into her hair. His tongue plunged and plundered. He tasted of spearmint and need and when Torie closed her mouth around his tongue and sucked it, he growled low in his throat.
His hands slipped to her shoulders. His fingers gripped her tight. He broke off the kiss roughly. His jaw was set, the angles on his face as sharp as she’d ever seen them, and the heat and intensity of his gaze held her spellbound.
He set her back into her seat, put the truck in gear, and spun his tires in the dry dirt. The pickup flew down the road, bouncing on potholes and ruts. She hoped he didn’t damage his truck. She’d hate to be responsible for two such incidents in one day.
The thought brought her up short. Wow. Was it only this morning that she’d pegged his truck? This had been an exceptionally long day.
She wondered how long her night would last.
The pickup’s headlights illuminated a two-story house made of Austin stone dead ahead of them. She saw a fully equipped outdoor kitchen on the right and a three-car garage on the left. “Is that your place?”
“Yeah,” he said with a distinct sigh of relief.
“That’s no cabin.”
“Sure it is. In this part of the world if a house is on the lake, it’s a cabin. It’s like I told you before, Brazos Bend isn’t like other places.”
He pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine. By the time Torie got her purse gathered up and her door open, he was waiting. Before she could breathe, his mouth was on hers, his hand threading through the hair at the base of her neck. Holy macaroni, this man knew how to kiss. Did they teach this art in spy school or something?
He put his hands around her waist and lifted her, sliding her down against his hard body until her feet touched the ground. He backed her against the truck, his body trapping hers in place as once again, he kissed her thoroughly, his mouth hot and borderline vicious. Primal, and shockingly intense.
It was thrilling. He was thrilling. Her arms circled him, her fingers diving into his hair. His urgency was a total turn-on, filling her with a sense of power and potency. Considering she’d spent the last few days feeling afraid and helpless, it was a welcome change.
Releasing her long enough to reach into the cab for the plastic sack from the drugstore, Matt slammed the passenger door and grabbed her hand, tugging her toward the house. Torie’s heart pounded. Her blood hummed. She recognized that she’d probably regret this in the morning, but for now, she’d simply enjoy it. Enjoy him.
Motion detector lights flickered on as they approached the oak front door. Matt had his key out and ready, and within seconds, they were inside. He didn’t bother to turn on the lights, but led her straight to the staircase.
Torie, feeling rather wicked, had the notion to tease. Dragging her feet, she said, “I don’t know, Callahan. Maybe we shouldn’t rush into anything.”
He shot her a scowl. “Rush? We’ve been working our way here since the island.”
“But don’t you think—”
“No. Thinking’s not allowed. Tonight is all about feeling.” He scooped her up into his arms and carried her up the stairs. James Bond as Rhett Butler. It was, Torie decided, the most romantic moment of her life.
Inside the master bedroom, light from the rising full moon beamed through the wall of windows overlooking the lake. Torie caught only a glimpse of her surroundings—huge room, stone fireplace, heavy furniture—before he tumbled her onto a huge bed. She smelled sunshine in the bedding and felt the feather bed beneath cradle her softly. He knelt on one knee beside her, reached over her, and switched on a bedside lamp. Soft, golden light filled the room, and Torie’s attention was captured by the glitter of desire glowing in Matt’s eyes. “I want to see you,” he murmured, his impatient hands tugging her shirt from her shorts.
Torie’s innate modesty compelled her to say, “You, I don’t mind, but the neighbors ... I’m not into that sort of thing.”
“There are no neighbors.” His fingers found her bare skin and stroked across her belly. “This is an isolated part of the lake. We’re the only two people around for miles.”
Yeah. That’s what James said in Goldeneye just before all the marines popped up from the grass.
Before she could form a protest, he straddled her and ripped at her shirt and she forgot the argument. She was alone in the middle of nowhere with a dangerous man riding the edge of violence. If she had any sense, she’d feel at least a little bit frightened.
She didn’t. She reveled in the fierceness of his reaction to her, and she arched her back when he released the center clasp of her demi-cup bra and closed his hands over her naked breasts. His hands kneaded her; his thumbs flicked across her hardened nipples. “So beautiful, silky,” he murmured as he lowered his head and took her into his mouth.
Pleasure flared to her very core as she writhed against him, the suction steady and strong and driving her up. His rough tongue stroked across her sensitive nipple. His teeth gently nipped. Torie bit back a whimper and decided she’d had enough. That he’d had control long enough.
She pushed up and rolled on top of him. She straddled him, kissed him, tore at his clothes with wild, reckless craving until they both lay naked, Matt beneath her, tension visible in the sculpted length of his muscles, his arousal jutting temptingly before her.
Torie shuddered with delight. It had been so long since she’d felt this heat. So long since she’d enjoyed a man’s body. And she’d never enjoyed a body like Matt Callahan’s.
The man was gorgeous. A god. A scarred god with marks on his chest and stomach, and that unfortunate set of lines on his knee, none of which detracted from his sheer physical male beauty. “You are so hot.”
“Tell me about it. I think my blood is about to boil.”
She gave a half laugh and reached to touch him. Matt sucked his breath past his teeth. “You do much of that and this will be over before it starts.”
“I thought you were in a hurry.”
“To get you naked. To get my hands on you.” He flipped her over. “Now that we’re to the good part, I like to go slow.”
“Oh.”
He trailed his index finger along her collarbone. “Tell me where you like to be touched, Victoria.”
Breathlessly, she said, “I’m not picky.”
Amusement curved his lips. “Then let’s try this, shall we?”
He dipped his head and trailed open-mouth kisses from the base of her throat to the swell of her breasts. His breath was hot against her skin and she shivered in response. As his hands began a slow, sensual exploration of her body, the elemental need for release had her moving, flexing her hips, tossing her head from side to side. Torie wanted ... wanted... .
He licked the underside of her breast, stroked the sensitive skin at the backs of her knees, then, ever so slowly, slid his hand upward toward her heat. Torie trembled and quaked and hissed out a sigh when he finally pressed his palm against her mound and rubbed her. When he slid a finger over her, then into her, her eyes drifted shut.
“None of that,” he told her. “Look at me. I want you with me. You’re so tight, so hot, so wet. You turn me on, Torie. I want to see your eyes glaze over and hear you scream when I make you come.”
She opened her eyes, saw the smug satisfaction in his, and a twinge of annoyance intruded on her enjoyment of the moment. What made him think he got to call all the shots? Matt Callahan was a little too full of himself. This might just be a one-night stand, but her pride demanded it be one he’d remember.
She needed to take back control again.
Later, her inner hussy begged as his hand worked wonders between her thighs, and his mouth made magic at her throat.
Pleasure sizzled along her nerves. If I don’t do it now, there won’t be a later.
Torie sucked in a deep, steadying breath, then reached for him.
“Damn, that’s good,” he said as she ran a finger over his tip, traced his length, teased him with her touch. “Ahh ... Torie.”
Not “Victoria.” Power intoxicated like wine. There was something truly enthralling about making a strong man weak. “I want to hear you beg.”
He drew back and his fingers momentarily stilled. “That sounds like a challenge, Ms. Bradshaw.”
Smiling, she slowly licked her lips. “You up to it, Callahan?”
His gaze locked on her mouth. He flexed his hips, instinctively pushing himself against her hand. “You’ll have to show me your best stuff if you want a chance at winning.”
“Darlin’, my best stuff might kill you.”
He laughed, then lowered his head to kiss her, and Matt and Torie went to war. They rolled and grappled and grabbed. She loved running her hands over the firm cords of muscle across his back. She gloried in his earthy male scent and the salty-sweet taste of his skin. When he used his strength against her by shackling her wrists above her head with one hand and torturing her sweetly with the other, she retaliated by whispering into his ear what she wanted to do to him with her mouth. When she sucked on his earlobe, he shuddered.
When she won the opportunity to show him, his groan melded with hers.
He was big and thick and delicious, and Torie’s excitement escalated. She had Double-Oh-Yeah at her mercy and she’d never felt more powerful. Or more turned on.
She glanced up. He was tense, trembling, his hands fisting the bed covers to hang on. He was obviously on the edge, but fighting it, unwilling to give up his control. Which of course made Torie determined to make him lose it, and she devoted herself to her task with extra zeal.
But Matt Callahan wasn’t one to surrender easily. When he let out a growl and shoved her away, shoved her back on the bed, and set about returning the sexual favor, she knew she wouldn’t last. Wouldn’t win.
So lose already, cried her inner hussy.
Need clawed at her. The room began to spin. She clenched her teeth against a scream and rotated her hips in silent encouragement. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, which were slick with sweat.
“Screw this,” he growled, wrenching away, reaching for the drugstore sack.
“No, me!” she all but wailed.
He laughed. “Oh, honey, I will.”
He ripped through the package, yanked on the condom. “We both win,” he declared as he levered her hips high and drove into her.
For just a second, he didn’t move. He filled her, stretched her. Completed her. “Yes,” she breathed in relief, in supplication, as his hips began to piston.
Her nails dug into his back. The vicious tension stretched and strengthened and finally burst. Pleasure flowed through her like a warm, hot river and she went limp and motionless until seconds later, Matt Callahan collapsed on top of her and gasped, “I surrender.”
At that, Torie Bradshaw smiled.