Page 47 of Protecting the Newborn

Gracelyn nearly got lost in the fiery haze, nearly let Ruston carry her away. But she wanted to give as good as she was getting. She wanted to do her own tasting and touching, so she unhooked his shoulder holster, setting the weapon aside on the nightstand, and then rid him of his shirt.

And her version of touching and tasting began.

She lowered her head, kissed his chest, and she felt his muscles stir beneath her mouth. Gracelyn used her tongue. Heard the rumble of pleasure that came deep from within his throat. She kept kissing while she slid her hand to his stomach.

More muscles stirred. He made that sound again. And she just kept pushing, firing up the heat. Until Ruston could seemingly take no more. He pulled off her top and turned the tables on her by touching her breasts. It was an amazing sensation that became so much more when he rid her of her bra.

The urgency escalated. Of course it did. This level of heat couldn’t last, and it demanded to be sated now. That was the word pounding through her head—now—when she reached for the zipper of his jeans. He stopped her, and Gracelyn muttered some profanity when he moved her off his lap and stood.

For a few horrible moments she thought he was stopping, but Ruston pulled off his boots before he fished through the pocket of his jeans and came out with his wallet. Then a condom.

Gracelyn wanted to curse some more because the heat and need had nearly made her forget the whole safe-sex thing. Thankfully, Ruston hadn’t. Also, thankfully, he was prepared.

And naked.

That happened when he shucked off his jeans and boxers. A fully clothed Ruston could fire her up, but a naked one stole her breath. The man was drop-dead hot, and he was hers.

Well, hers for this moment, anyway.

And this moment was enough. Gracelyn wouldn’t allow herself to think beyond it. She didn’t want to deal with anything but this urgency that was building, building, building in every inch of her.

Ruston moved back toward the bed, anchoring his knee on the edge of the mattress while he leaned in and pulled off her sweatpants. And panties. He didn’t lower on top of her, though. But he kissed her. A long, slow slide of his mouth that started at her neck and went lower. To her breasts.

Then lower. To her stomach.

Then lower still. And that was a kiss that had Gracelyn jolting. That had her nearly flying right over the edge of a climax. While she was certain that would be amazing, she didn’t want to finish things like this.

She levered herself up, not easily, and took hold of Ruston to pull him down on top of her. She wanted his body on hers. And that was what she got. She wanted him to be as mindless and ready as she was, and she got that, too, when she wrapped her hand around his erection.

Judging from the profanity he grumbled, that was the best kind of torture for him, and it caused him to hurry to get the condom on.

They were face-to-face again when he pushed inside her. Face-to-face when the thrusts turned from gentle and testing to deep and demanding. Face-to-face when those thrusts made it impossible for her to hang on any longer.

Gracelyn let him finish her. She let Ruston take her to the only place she wanted to go.

With the climax rippling through her, they were face-to-face when she kissed him and took Ruston right along with her.

Chapter Twelve

Ruston lay next to Gracelyn while she slept. And she was indeed sleeping. He could tell from the now gentle, even rhythm of her breathing. Nothing like the urgent pace that’d happened when they were having sex. Then again, there were many things that took on that level of heat and need.

There weren’t many things that could make him forget that a killer was after them. Temporarily forget, anyway. Now that the fire had been cooled for the moment, he remembered.

And he worried.

How the hell was he going to keep Abigail and Gracelyn safe?

For the moment they didn’t have anyone trying to gun them down, but Ruston also knew they couldn’t stay holed up like this. It was like being undercover. With a baby, no less. That had to stop.

But how?

He didn’t even know who was trying to kill them, much less how to draw the person out in a way that didn’t involve putting Gracelyn or Abigail in even more danger than they already were.

There was one bright thing in all of this. Gracelyn and he were fully on the same side now. They were together, and while he wasn’t going to try to figure out what that meant for the future, Ruston knew they’d be working together to protect Abigail.

“I can practically hear you thinking,” Gracelyn muttered.

Ruston silently cursed when he looked down and saw she was now wide-awake. He silently cursed again at the heat that instantly notched up inside him just by looking at her.

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