happy to overlook his thick Cajun accent and lean, rangy body in order to say they’d bagged themselves an honest-to-goodness Navy SEAL.
But, unfortunately, since starting Black Knights Inc., his pace in the, uh, bunny department had slowed considerably. And more recently, ever since he’d been on the run—no, that wasn’t true; it was ever since they’d hired Vanessa—that pace had screeched to a full stop. Because every time he tried to take a woman home from the bar or local cantina, he was stopped by visions of long, inky-black hair, dark, flashing eyes, and an ass that didn’t know the meaning of the word quit .
And that scared him like a hound pissing peach pits. Because had that jaguar not showed up when it did, he’d likely be buried balls-deep in her sweet feminine warmth right at this very moment. And though the act would’ve undoubtedly been one of the most pleasurable experiences of his entire sorry life, it would’ve also been a mistake on too many levels to count…Because despite the fact that her actions had been screaming, Ride me, cowboy. Hard and fast —which, wouldn’t you know, just happened to be his particular specialty—he was fully aware that, deep down inside, Vanessa was the “forever” type of girl. So if he’d given in to the lust that’d momentarily grabbed hold of them, he’d have given her hope there could be a future for the two of them when there absolutely could not .
He pulled away from her gentle touch, shaking his head even though she couldn’t see him. “The wound is nothin’,” he told her brusquely. Was that his voice that sounded like a rusty hinge? “The blood’s already drying.”
“Yes,” she dragged the s out on the end of the word. “But here in the jungle, the smallest cut can lead to massive infection. We need to get that thing cleaned, dried, and bandaged.”
She had a point. But if she put her hands on him again…Good Lord. He reckoned he’d be toast.
“All right, fine. But I’ll do it myself.”
She made a tsk-ing sound, and her hand landed on his forearm again only to start on a slow, agonizing journey up his bare arm. The erection he’d managed to beat back when the jaguar arrived on the scene swelled with new life.
Merde. This woman’s gonna be the death of me!
He grabbed her hand and tossed it away, trying to ignore her surprised hiss. “I’m serious.” His harsh tone declared the topic closed for discussion. “I’ll do it myself.”
The resounding silence following that statement let him know more clearly than words ever could that he’d gone and hurt her feelings.
Well, bon . If she considered him a prick of legendary proportions, she’d be only too happy to see the backside of him once he returned her pretty ass to the Knights. And it was better to suffer some hurt feelings now than all-out heartbreak later on.
“Suit yourself,” she finally huffed, and he figured it was mission accomplished on the whole getting-her-to-think-he-was-a-prick front. A rustling sound alerted him that she’d picked up his pack, but he was still caught off guard when it slammed into the center of the chest. The breath shot out of him in a harsh oof and, despite himself, he felt a smile curve his lips.
Mon dieu , he liked her. Considered her damn near perfect, in fact. Because along with being tough and beautiful and lusty, she was also spunky as hell. The combination was Kryptonite to his Superman. Which was just one more reason why he had to make sure he didn’t encourage any more bouts of tongue wrestling— Lord have mercy, can that woman ever kiss ! He was already too far gone where she was concerned.
“Thanks,” he wheezed, digging into his pack, fishing for the antibiotic wipes and self-adhesive bandages he’d packed.
“Oh, you’re very welcome.” The sneer on her face was apparent in her tone, and it occurred to him, as he broke open a pack of wipes, that since she was already pissed, it was probably a good time to go
But, unfortunately, since starting Black Knights Inc., his pace in the, uh, bunny department had slowed considerably. And more recently, ever since he’d been on the run—no, that wasn’t true; it was ever since they’d hired Vanessa—that pace had screeched to a full stop. Because every time he tried to take a woman home from the bar or local cantina, he was stopped by visions of long, inky-black hair, dark, flashing eyes, and an ass that didn’t know the meaning of the word quit .
And that scared him like a hound pissing peach pits. Because had that jaguar not showed up when it did, he’d likely be buried balls-deep in her sweet feminine warmth right at this very moment. And though the act would’ve undoubtedly been one of the most pleasurable experiences of his entire sorry life, it would’ve also been a mistake on too many levels to count…Because despite the fact that her actions had been screaming, Ride me, cowboy. Hard and fast —which, wouldn’t you know, just happened to be his particular specialty—he was fully aware that, deep down inside, Vanessa was the “forever” type of girl. So if he’d given in to the lust that’d momentarily grabbed hold of them, he’d have given her hope there could be a future for the two of them when there absolutely could not .
He pulled away from her gentle touch, shaking his head even though she couldn’t see him. “The wound is nothin’,” he told her brusquely. Was that his voice that sounded like a rusty hinge? “The blood’s already drying.”
“Yes,” she dragged the s out on the end of the word. “But here in the jungle, the smallest cut can lead to massive infection. We need to get that thing cleaned, dried, and bandaged.”
She had a point. But if she put her hands on him again…Good Lord. He reckoned he’d be toast.
“All right, fine. But I’ll do it myself.”
She made a tsk-ing sound, and her hand landed on his forearm again only to start on a slow, agonizing journey up his bare arm. The erection he’d managed to beat back when the jaguar arrived on the scene swelled with new life.
Merde. This woman’s gonna be the death of me!
He grabbed her hand and tossed it away, trying to ignore her surprised hiss. “I’m serious.” His harsh tone declared the topic closed for discussion. “I’ll do it myself.”
The resounding silence following that statement let him know more clearly than words ever could that he’d gone and hurt her feelings.
Well, bon . If she considered him a prick of legendary proportions, she’d be only too happy to see the backside of him once he returned her pretty ass to the Knights. And it was better to suffer some hurt feelings now than all-out heartbreak later on.
“Suit yourself,” she finally huffed, and he figured it was mission accomplished on the whole getting-her-to-think-he-was-a-prick front. A rustling sound alerted him that she’d picked up his pack, but he was still caught off guard when it slammed into the center of the chest. The breath shot out of him in a harsh oof and, despite himself, he felt a smile curve his lips.
Mon dieu , he liked her. Considered her damn near perfect, in fact. Because along with being tough and beautiful and lusty, she was also spunky as hell. The combination was Kryptonite to his Superman. Which was just one more reason why he had to make sure he didn’t encourage any more bouts of tongue wrestling— Lord have mercy, can that woman ever kiss ! He was already too far gone where she was concerned.
“Thanks,” he wheezed, digging into his pack, fishing for the antibiotic wipes and self-adhesive bandages he’d packed.
“Oh, you’re very welcome.” The sneer on her face was apparent in her tone, and it occurred to him, as he broke open a pack of wipes, that since she was already pissed, it was probably a good time to go
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