CHAPTER 7
Cassie tucked her hair into her helmet while she waited for Parker to come back with his truck. Overreact much?
Apparently.
She hadn’t meant to snap at him. She’d just… reacted.
But reacted to what? This was Parker. He’d always worried about her breaking her neck. Since the day they’d started hanging out as teenagers. His comment was nothing new. If anything, it was an endearing reminder that he was always looking out for her.
You don’t deserve that anymore, do you? Not when you let your crew mates die.
Guilt stabbed through her, even as she shook her head to chase away the thought. She was home. Here and now was what mattered. Nothing else. But living with the past – moving beyond the past was proving harder than she’d realized.
She slipped onto the bike, a small measure of ease settling through her. She loved this bike like she loved her aircraft. There was something so centering about flying. In the air, everything came into sharp focus. Flying down the road was the next best thing.
The engine roared to life beneath her, sending a little thrill through her body. She’d chosen the Ducati over a Yamaha for one reason only. The vibration of the engine felt closest to the Blackhawk’s. She might have a lower profile racing down the road on a Yamaha, but the engine didn’t have enough bass for her taste. And when it came to engines, it was all about the bass.
Parker pulled up, elbow hanging out of his beat-up Chevy pickup. “Ready?” His easy grin set off the butterflies again.
“You sure you don’t want to ride on back?” Cassie cocked her chin.
His mouth quirked. “Are we talking bikes or something else?”
“I love it when you talk dirty, Parker.” She did too. His frank talk fired her up in all the right places. And maybe a few wrong ones. Her thighs tensed against the saddle.
His smile widened. “Sorry, sweetheart. The only way I’m riding your bike is at the controls.”
Cassie’s heart thudded extra hard. It should be illegal for a voice to sound that sexy. “You like being in charge, don’t you?”
Heat flared in his eyes. “Always.”
“Let’s go then.” She revved the engine, calculating whether or not she could take a quick turn around Prairie’s perimeter and still catch up to Parker by the time he reached the edge of the Hansen property. Best not to risk it in broad daylight. She’d have to content herself with observing the speed limit signs. The last thing she wanted was a ticket from Prairie’s police chief and her family’s neighbor, Travis Kincaid.
“After you.”
“You want to admire my backside, don’t you?” Cassie said, slipping back into an age-old exchange she and Parker had developed years ago. Apparently, he remembered, because he answered without missing a beat.
“Always best to keep trouble in front of you.”
“Try to keep up.” Resisting the urge to show off with a wheelie, she popped the bike into gear and took off down the road toward the Hansens’.
By the time she signaled the turn onto the spread, agitation vibrated through Cassie’s limbs. The drive had been the slowest fifteen minutes. As the wheels hit the dirt drive, again she resisted the urge to pop a wheelie and fly over the rise. Growling low in time with the engine, she downshifted and slowed to a stop, pulling the bike up next to the line of trucks parked outside the Hansens’ farmhouse. She hadn’t been on their ranch in years. The house was still blue and white, the back porch just as tidy as she’d remembered. Martha Hansen had always run a tight ship.
Parker strode around the front of his truck to meet her just as she removed her helmet. “I love it when you do that.” He shot her a smile that made her legs throb.
“What?”
“Toss your hair when you take off your helmet. Sexy as hell.”
He closed the space between them, and suddenly she was aware of his bigness. Five-feet ten wasn’t exactly short for a woman. In fact, her height had distinct advantages in the military. But close-up, Parker towered over her. And he was broad. Well-muscled from years of hard physical labor. She placed a palm on his chest, reveling at the hard muscle filling her palm. “No. This. Is sexy as hell.” She gave his pec a little squeeze. Then ran her hand over his shoulder and down his arm, stopping when she reached his rock hard triceps. “And this?” She squeezed the muscle. “Makes me giddy.”
His mouth twitched. “Giddy? Is that all?”
“I’ll show you later how giddy.”
He made a noise in the back of his throat, and grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together. “I think I don’t want to wait until later.” He gave a gentle tug and turned, leading her down past the stables and through a break in the trees to where his bunkhouse stood. Parker pushed open the door and stepped in, putting the bag of food on his small kitchen table, then spun around pulling her flush against his body.
The agitation that had hounded her during the drive over quickly morphed into anticipation. Parker walked her back, pushing the door shut behind her, and sandwiched her between the wall and his body, clicking the lock into place.
“No chance of interruptions now.”
Cassie’s pulse hammered at her throat when she caught the hungry look in Parker’s eye. He brought his fingers to her temple, threading them through her tangled hair, then skimming the curve of her ear, and tracing down her neck. Each place his fingers touched set off a trail of goosebumps that led straight to her nipples. She let out a whimper of frustration. Where was his mouth? She wanted his mouth on her. Breath hot on her neck, mouth firm and demanding. Anything to capture the energy dying to be released from her body.
“Parker.” Her voice wavered.
“No rushing. Not today.”
“But–”
He placed a finger over her mouth, tracing her lips. “Shh.”
Moisture pooled between her thighs, and she squirmed against the door. “I don’t think I can take this.”
Parker drew his other hand through her hair, following the same path but on the other side. By the time he reached her neck, she trembled from head to foot.
“Come whenever you want, sweetheart. As often as you need. But I’m not rushing.”
Her breath caught in her throat, then came out with a sigh as Parker lowered his head and traced a line from her neck to her ear with the tip of his tongue. She wasn’t sure how long she’d last at this pace. She’d come before his hand ever reached her waistband.
Angling her head, she landed a kiss on his neck, catching a whiff of his aftershave. Forest. And distinctly Parker. Her clit throbbed impatiently. At this rate, she’d be dead before he made it that far down her body. But the sensations he was evoking were too good to hurry him along.
His hands cupped her face, and finally, finally, he brushed her lips. Over and over until she opened her mouth, silently begging for more. Uttering a small cry, she leaned forward just enough that their lips fully connected. He smiled against her and gave her what she wanted. His tongue flicked inside her mouth, teasing, exploring. Moaning, she opened wider, softening, and sinking into the slow, sensuousness of their rhythm. His hips pressed her into the door while his tongue continued to slide against hers. She gave herself over to the sweet sensation building between her legs.
Parker slipped an arm behind her back and bending, scooped her up as if she weighed nothing. Still kissing her, he moved through the room, turning, stepping, and turning again, then sitting.
She dimly registered the give of a mattress but was too engrossed in their kiss to care where they’d landed. She liked being curled up in his lap. Parker’s hand slid across her thigh to cup her ass. She squirmed against him, eager for more.
When he broke their kiss, their heavy breathing filled the small room. “Boots off.” His hand skimmed the length of her jeans and came to rest at the top of her laces. She was still more comfortable in her Army issued footwear most days. He had her boots off in short order, then slid her off his lap.
Cassie reached for the hem of his navy tee when he bent to remove his own boots. Sliding a hand underneath the cotton, she skimmed over the muscles as they tensed, then she grabbed the material and pulled it over his head. Parker slipped his arms from the holes and tossed the shirt into a corner, then finished removing boots and socks.
She feasted on the vision before her. Parker without a shirt had always been a sight to behold. The myriad of ways his muscles rippled and bunched kept her attention like nothing else. “What’s this?” She traced a long white scar behind his shoulder.
Parker chuckled. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”
Cassie’s stomach churned. She’d never told a soul outside of the military doctors who’d treated her. She spent all her time avoiding reliving the events that gave her those scars. Her mother had raised an eyebrow at the tattoo, and her father’s eyes filled with worry every time he looked at the scar, but thankfully neither had asked for the story.
Memories knifed through her, and she averted her head, briefly shutting her eyes. As if that was enough to stop the onslaught. It wasn’t. Not even close. She avoided looking at her shoulder in the mirror for this very reason.
Parker caressed her thigh. “No?” His voice was gentle. Soothing. “How ’bout I go first? You can tell me later.”
Or never.
Cassie swallowed down a lump of hot emotion that had lodged itself in her throat and gave him a small smile. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head, willing herself to forget. “It’s just–”
Parker’s eyes filled with compassion. “I understand. I didn’t mean to pry.”
She hated that look. The look that said I know there’s something wrong with you. The sexy chemistry between them had dissipated, and all because of an off the cuff remark. Her heart sank like a copter that lost an engine.
She rolled her lower lip under her teeth and bit hard, using the sharp pain to bring her focus back, and breathing deeply through her nose. Once. Twice. Three times. Parker sat quietly next to her, stroking her thigh.
When she thought she could speak again and keep her voice even, she raised her eyes and gave him a small smile. “Tell me about your scar.”