Wyatt's War

Chapter Eight

Fiona sat beside Joe, directly across the table from Wyatt. Though she didn’t let her gaze connect with his too often, she could feel him staring at her and it made her squirm in her seat, her thighs tightening, her pussy creaming all over again. She could still feel the warm, wet rasp of his tongue across her clit and the weight of his palms cupping her breasts.

Trying to force her mind out of the bedroom, she picked at the breakfast taco on her plate, her appetite nonexistent.

For food.

What was Joe saying? So deep in her thoughts about being naked with Wyatt, she’d missed half of what he was talking about.

“One of my connections at the local FBI office informed me that they have been getting warnings from Washington to be on the lookout for trouble. The tech gurus in the cyber division say there’s been increased activity among known terrorist organizations in connection with the International Trade Convention.”

Fiona dragged her attention back to the conversation, the importance of which could be the difference between a successful convention and a complete disaster where delegates and civilians could die. “All the more reason to be on our toes at all times. We don’t want anyone hurt.” Despite her effort to avoid Wyatt, her gaze rose to his and locked.

His dark brown gaze bore into hers. “No, we don’t want anyone hurt.”

Joe stared from Fiona to Wyatt. “On that we can all agree. Which makes it all the more imperative to stop situations from happening before they become dangerous.”

Wyatt nodded. “Exactly. We should avoid trouble where at all possible. Even if it means denying certain persons from being around others.”

“Right.” Joe tapped his finger on the table. “I understand the Columbians and the Venezuelans have been calling each other names. Perhaps you should keep the delegates from those two countries out of each other’s way.”

Fiona stared at Wyatt a moment longer, her brows lifting. Not only would they need to keep certain delegates apart, Wyatt would probably try to maintain his distance from her as well. “The social event tonight will be a challenge. I’ve studied the list of guests and made notes on who has issues with whom.”

“I’d like to have that list,” Wyatt said.

“It’s in my room at the hotel. If you come two hours before the event, I’ll brief you on who to watch out for.” She glanced away, fighting to keep her lips from quirking up on the corners. Not only would she brief him on the people attending, but she might even debrief him for a little pre-hors d’oeuvre snack before the evening’s ordeal.

Oh yeah. He didn’t wear briefs. That smile she’d been holding onto broke through. Even better. If the man thought he could make love to her so expertly the night before and walk out of her life the next morning, he had another think coming. So he had some issues with PTSD? She could deal with it. Her parents hadn’t raised a wimp.

Her mind made up, her day laid out with so many coordination tasks to tick and tie, she pushed back from the table to get started. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I have work to do.” She stared across the table at Wyatt. “I’ll see you later.”

His eyes narrowed, but he nodded.

As far as Fiona was concerned the day couldn’t go fast enough. All the plans she’d made for the convention were falling into place. The caterer was on target to deliver on time, Joe and his dogs would be sweeping the hotel again at noon. Preston would have guards positioned at each entrance and exit, along with one of Joe’s bomb-sniffing dogs and handlers. The social event would take place in the hotel’s grand ballroom.

And if she was lucky, precisely two hours before the social hour, she’d take care of that itch that was threatening to consume her.

Wyatt spent most of the day between the convention center and the hotel, double-checking with Preston, Arthur and Joe at intervals to make sure all their bases were covered and nothing slipped through. When it was time to meet Fiona in her room, he couldn’t deny the rapid beat of his heart or the fact that his jeans had become two times tighter than they’d been all day. Standing outside the room they’d shared the night before, he raised his hand to knock instead of running his keycard through the locking mechanism. He had yet to find another room, the concierge insisting all the rooms in the River Walk area had been overbooked and he’d be lucky to find anything until after the convention.

Drawing in a deep breath, he knocked, telling himself he’d be in and out as soon as she imparted the information he’d need to mingle at the party effectively.

Less than a second passed and the door swung open.

His lips quirked. She must have been waiting on the other side. It was nice to know she had been as anxious as he had been for the agreed upon hour to arrive. She stood in the doorway, naked, her long red hair hanging down over one of her shoulders, barely covering the tip of one breast.

All good intentions of remaining hands off flew out the window.

She grabbed his hand, yanked him through the doorway and shut it behind him.

He swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around hers to keep him from reaching out to capture one of her perfectly formed breasts.

Focus on the eyes.

“Uh, did I catch you at a bad time?” he asked, his gaze slipping from her eyes down to her smiling lips and lower to those smooth mounds jutting out as perky as ever, the tips knotted into hard little buds, tempting him to perdition. Oh boy.

“You and I both know this is as good a time as any.” She reached out, grabbed his T-shirt and pulled it up over his head, tossing it over the back of a chair. “We have exactly one hour before I have to be in the ballroom directing the preparations.” Her fingers made quick work of the button on his jeans, pushing it through and then sliding the zipper down.

His cock sprang free, hard, thick and throbbing. Wyatt groaned. “I told you, I’m no good for you.”

“Let me be the judge of that.” She stared down at his manhood. “Lose the boots,” she commanded, as she cupped her breasts and squeezed the tips. “I don’t know how long I can wait.”

Surrendering to her demands, he toed off his cowboy boots and shucked his jeans in record time. “This changes nothing.” He scooped her up into his arms and strode across the room to the bed, vaguely noting the rollaway had been removed. Nothing got in the way of the two of them and the mattress they’d be testing for endurance.

He tossed her in the middle and climbed in beside her, taking one of those sexy nipples into his mouth. Sucking hard on it, he released it and kissed his way across to the other. “Shouldn’t we be checking on something?”

“Umm, yeah. On how wet you make me.” Fiona ran her fingers down her torso to the juncture of her thighs, parting her folds for him.

“Got it.” He took over, pushing her fingers aside. Her pussy was wet with thick, musky juices. Wyatt slipped two fingers into her channel, swirling around to drench them before sliding up to stroke her clit.

Fiona arched her back off the bed. “Oh yes. That’s it. That’s the spot.” Her heels dug into the mattress and her bottom lifted.

Her apparent satisfaction spurred his desire. When he sat up, she touched his side. “I want to taste you,” she said, her hand finding and gripping his dick, tugging him toward her. “Let me.” Angling him toward her, she nudged his knees, urging him to straddle her head and lower himself until she could take his straining cock into the warmth and wetness of her mouth.

By all that was paradise, he couldn’t think past the way she made him feel with her lips wrapped around him, the suction of her mouth pulling him deeper. Fiona gripped his ass and pulled him down until his cock bumped against the back of her throat.

He groaned and rose. Again, her fingers dug into his butt and she brought him back to her, fully encasing him with her mouth. He almost shot his wad right then.

Several deep breaths and a will of iron got him under control and he moved in and out, settling into a smooth, easy rhythm he could handle while he bent to the task of bringing her to the same heights of ecstasy.

Parting her folds with his fingers, he stroked his tongue across the tip of her clit.

Her ass rose from the bed and she moaned around his cock.

Wyatt flicked her clit again and then ran his tongue in a long, thick sweep that ended at her entrance where he tasted the musky cream of her desire. He dug his tongue into her channel, while he fingered the tight little hole of her anus.

Her knees came up to squeeze around his ears and her teeth scraped his dick.

If he wasn’t careful, he’d come in her mouth. She had him so hot he could easily forget himself.

Focusing on her, he swiped and swirled his tongue along the swollen strip of flesh until she cried out, the noise muffled by his dick in her mouth.

She drew him deep into her mouth, her fingernails digging into his buttocks, holding him deep inside her.

Wyatt tensed, hovering on the edge, his body straining for release. Seconds before he lost it, he pulled free of her lips and turned around in the bed, settling between her legs. “Protection,” he gritted out.

She held up a foil package in triumph, then tore it with her teeth and rolled the condom over his engorged cock, her fingers lingering at the base, rolling his balls between her digits.

The urgency of his desire won out and he thrust into her, pumping in and out so hard and fast the friction made their connection burn.

She rose up to meet him, their bodies slamming together in a hot and powerful union. When he could hold back no longer, he rose up on his knees, shoved a pillow beneath her hips, gathered her bottom in his grip and rammed into her one last time, burying his dick as deep as it would go. He held her there as he shot over the edge, his cock throbbing against the walls of her channel. At that moment, his entire world consisted of him and her and the bed they lay on. There was nowhere else he’d rather be.

Fiona wrapped her legs around his waist, digging her heels into his ass. She fondled her breasts, tweaking the nipples, her head thrashing side to side as her body shook with her own release.

When he finally came back down to earth, Wyatt pulled the pillow out from beneath her. Without breaking their connection, he lay on his side, rolling her over to face him. “I didn’t come here to fuck you.”

She smiled and kissed his chin. “But aren’t you glad you did?”

He closed his eyes. “You know I am.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “I could easily become addicted to you.”

“And that’s a crime?” Fiona cupped his cheek. “I’m tough. I can handle more than you think.”

He shook his head. “I was trained to kill and I almost killed you this morning.”

“But you didn’t.” She smoothed a thumb across his mouth and leaned close to capture his lip between her teeth. Her breath was clean and minty and made him want to…

He crushed her mouth with his, his tongue pushing past her teeth to caress hers in a long sensuous glide. When he broke off, he pressed his forehead to hers. “My life is too complicated. I’m messed up. I’m only good for fighting. I will probably be leaving the country as soon as this assignment is over.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” Fiona captured his hand on her face and pressed a kiss into his palm. “I stay very busy with my business. I’m not clingy and I’m not prone to wandering.”

“You deserve a man who will treat you like a queen and will be home every night to do this.”

“I don’t want to be treated like a queen. I work for a living, and I like it that way. And if I can do this every so often…well…it’s enough.” She slipped his hand down to her left breast. “I want a man who treats a woman not like a queen, but like a woman. A man who captures my heart, who works hard and plays hard.”

“Trust me, Fiona.” He shook his head. “I’m not the one for you.”

She gave him half a smile. “Because you don’t find me absorbingly intelligent or attractive?”

Wyatt chuckled. “Actually, the opposite. I find you very intelligent and totally attractive. That’s the problem.”

“Sorry, I’m not seeing the problem.” She kissed his chin and worked her way up to his lips. “Nope. Not seeing it.”

He returned the kiss, cupping the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her crazy red curls. How did she manage to look so trim and sophisticated as she had appeared earlier in her gray suit, every hair in place? Wyatt liked her better like this. Wild, uncontrolled and sexy as hell. “You are absolutely beautiful. But I can’t stay. When this gig is up, I’m gone.” He kissed her one last time, hard and final. Then he rolled out of the bed, slapped her fanny and said, “You don’t have much time before you need to be in the ballroom. Since I don’t have to be there as early, you can have the bathroom first.” He peeled off the condom and dropped it into the waste basket by the desk.

Fiona sat up and slid to her feet. “My door’s always open to you. Should you change your mind.” With a flip of her hair over her shoulder, she walked to the bathroom, the sway of her hips more emphasized than usual.

His cock responded, jerking to attention.

When she looked back and winked, he dove for the door and hustled her into the shower, climbing in behind her. “You’re testing me, aren’t you?” he said, nibbling the back of her neck.

“I’m a very determined woman.” She tilted her head to the side, allowing him to kiss his way down her throat. “I get what I want.”

“Umm. I don’t doubt that.” He cupped her breasts and bent to capture one, licking the water off the tip before sucking it into his mouth. Then he lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist, backing her into the tile wall of the shower.

“And I want you.” She wiggled her way down until her pussy hovered over his cock.

Damn, she had a way of keeping him hard. Wyatt drove into her, again and again, amazed at how quickly he’d recovered from their last round. How quickly he rose to the peak and would have exploded inside her, but he resisted, pulling free at the last moment. His cock was so hard he could drive nails into the wall with it.

Fiona gasped. “Why’d you stop?”

He shook his head and said through clenched teeth, “As crazy as you make me, we don’t have protection.”

“Let me down,” she insisted.

Wyatt eased her to her feet and gripped his member, rubbing his hands along the length to finish what they’d started.

She grabbed the bar of soap and created a thick lather in her hands, then pushed his hands out of the way and wrapped hers around him. Within seconds of pumping up and down his shaft, she had him back where he’d left off inside her. One more jerk of her wrists sent him flying over the edge, shooting his wad over her hands.

Fiona glanced up and smiled and handed him the bar of soap. “Your turn.”

He lathered up and ran his hands over her shoulders and arms, cupping her breasts in his big hands. They were perfect.

Fiona closed her eyes, letting her head tip back in the spray of the showerhead.

Wyatt trailed soap down her belly and wove his fingers through the tuft of curls covering her sex. Parting her folds, he flicked the nubbin hidden between.

Her breath hitched and she covered his hand with hers, urging him to continue. “Oh yeah. That’s the spot.”

Flicking again, he smiled at the way her face and body tensed. She responded to him so readily. With his other hand, he dug thumb into her pussy, and a single digit into her anus, taking up the rhythm of the strokes he applied to her clit.

Before long, she was hanging onto his arms, breathing hard, her body tense. “Holy hell,” she said as she dug her fingernails into his muscles. “I can’t…take…much…awwww.” She flung back her head and rode his fingers, her hips thrusting against him, her face strained, her eyes squeezed shut.

He continued until she touched his hand. “Please. I can’t take more. It’s too much.”

Wyatt slid his hands over her bottom and pressed her body against his, his cock sandwiched between them. “You are an incredible woman. Did you know that?”

Fiona laughed shakily, pushing her hair back from her face and letting the water run through it.

Her breasts bobbed and Wyatt seized their temptation, tweaking them briefly before squirting shampoo into his hands. “Much as I want to do this all again. I know you have to get done. Turn around.”

She obeyed. Her pale back and bottom were every bit as sexy as her front. Ready to tell the world to screw itself, Wyatt squelched his continued desire for this amazing woman and applied the shampoo to her long red hair, working it through the tresses to her scalp.

“I’ve never had a man wash my hair before.” She moaned softly. “Umm. I could get used to it.”

He bit his tongue to keep from telling her he’d do it for her any time she liked. Being with Fiona made him forget his troubles. All he had to do was fall asleep with her in his arms and they’d start all over again. He could never forgive himself if he hurt her because of his nightmares. Finishing, he turned her around and let her rinse the soap out of her hair. Knowing he should get out of the shower and let her finish on her own, he just couldn’t. He followed through with conditioner. The water began to cool and they finally climbed out of the shower and spent a few precious minutes drying each other off, laughing in the process.

Wyatt had never felt more relaxed in any other woman’s company and he was liking it far too much.

Then Fiona made the mistake of checking the clock on her cell phone and shrieked. “Crap, I have ten minutes to get to the ballroom.”

“You look great just the way you are.” Wyatt slapped her ass.

Fiona turned and touched his chest, her hand drifting down to his still hardened member. “You look pretty good yourself.” Then her eyes widened. “Crap. I didn’t even think about it. Do you have a suit and tie? The event tonight is formal. You can’t come in jeans and a T-shirt, and I really need you there. You didn’t even bring a hanging bag or anything.” She grabbed a brush and started yanking it through her hair. “There are stores in the River Center Mall if you need to be fitted quickly. But that’s cutting it way too close. Does Joe have a suit you could use?”

Pushing back his laughter, he captured her hand to keep it from flapping. “I think I can come up with something.”

She let out a steadying breath. “Oh good. Then go!” With a gentle shove, she guided him toward the bathroom door. “I’ll never get ready on time if you stay in here. Damn, I haven’t even dried my hair.”

Wyatt laughed out loud as she closed the door in his face.

Fiona met Maddie in the ballroom an hour before the event was due to begin. She’d barely had time to dry and pin her hair up and thank goodness she’d had her dress dry cleaned and hanging in her closet. After she and Maddie attended to the last minute details with the hotel staff, Preston’s security detail and Joe’s dogs, Fiona smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of her dress and waited at the entrance to the ballroom, greeting the guests one at a time as they filed in.

She’d practiced greetings in eight different languages and used those on the diplomats as she checked them off her list. Twenty minutes into the social hour she still hadn’t seen Wyatt and had begun to think he hadn’t had any luck locating the appropriate attire for the formal event. Damn, she wished she’d thought of it earlier.

Maddie leaned toward her. “Columbia and Venezuela are getting a little too close.”

Fiona glanced across the room.

The Columbian and the Venezuelan delegates were closing in on each other.

“Want me to run interference?” Maddie asked.

“No, I’ve got this.” Fiona hurried across the room to avert confrontation, hooking the Columbian’s arm and steering him away from the Venezuelan and toward the beautifully prepared hors d’oeuvres the hotel staff had prepared. When she’d introduced him to a woman from Argentina, she excused herself and glanced up as another guest entered the ballroom door. At that moment, the crowd separated long enough for her to catch a glimpse of the latest attendee.

A tall man dressed in a sharply tailored military uniform stepped into the room. Rows and rows of ribbons with shiny metals dangling off them adorned his chest. As he entered the ballroom, every female gaze shifted toward him.

His hair cut short, his chin cleanly shaven, he stood straight, his broad shoulders held back, his chest prominent and his mouth set in a straight line. Everything about him exuded power and dignity.

Fiona’s heart did a double beat when she realized it was Wyatt.

“Wow,” she said.

“Perdón, senorita?” The Mexican delegate leaned toward her.

“Pardon me.” Fiona left the man standing there without another word and sifted through the throng toward the entrance.

When his gaze captured hers, his eyes widened ever so slightly and appreciatively, sweeping over her length.

She was glad she’d found the simple black gown on sale at one of San Antonio’s most exclusive formal wear shops. With its V neckline and rhinestone straps it had been a particularly fabulous find. And based on the desire flaring in Wyatt’s eyes, it was a keeper.

Feeling like a schoolgirl on her first date, she held out her hand. “You look amazing.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” Without seeming to bend, he leaned toward her and whispered, “Only I prefer you naked.”

Her cheeks warmed. “Nice to see you found something to wear.”

“This old thing?” He winked and raised her hand to his lips, pressed a kiss to her palm and curled her fingers around it. He glanced around the room. “Everyone seems fairly civil at the moment.”

“So far so good.”

“In that case, would you care to dance?”

“Are you allowed to in uniform?” she asked.

He smiled and drew her hand through the crook of his arm. “Only with a beautiful woman.”

She turned and let him lead her to the dance floor. The string quartet she’d hired was set up on a raised platform in the corner. Fortunately the sick person was well enough and had made it to the hotel. They’d just started into beautiful, flowing waltz. Fiona hesitated as they neared the open polished wood of the dance floor. No one else was dancing. “Are you sure?” She turned to face him. “Have you ever waltzed?”

He smiled down at her with that sexy, confident smile. “You know I can hold my own on the dance floor, darlin’.”

Fiona chewed on her bottom lip. “Clubbing is different than dancing at a black tie affair.”

He placed his hand on her naked back and guided her onto the floor, holding her other hand in his. “I think I can manage.”

Without another word, he swept her up into the rhythm of the waltz, his steps perfect, his hand firm on her body, guiding her with each turn. She could have been a princess at a royal ball and Wyatt the prince, smiling down at her. Fiona had to stop herself from saying wow again. The man had so much charm, confidence and sex appeal, he melted her knees with just a look.

And in uniform…just wow.

As the song came to an end, Fiona sighed, disappointed. In Wyatt’s arms, she could forget everything else. “Where did you learn to dance like that?”

“My mother taught me how to waltz when I was a little boy. And like I said, I got a lot of practice at the country western honky-tonk some of us hung out at outside Fort Bragg during training.”

“Well, congratulate your mother for me. You did her proud.”

His smile faded. “She was a remarkable woman. She passed away seven years ago while I was on a mission.”

Fiona’s happiness faded. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I still miss her.”

“What about your father?”

“That old coot is still alive and kickin’. He’s ornery enough to outlive me by a long shot.”

“I bet there’s a lot of him in you.”

Wyatt nodded. “Too much at times. If we spend time together, we end up buttin’ heads.” A smile softened his words. “But he’s a good man beneath the gruffness.”

Fiona could imagine an older version of Wyatt and wondered what it would be like to grow old with him? Would he be content to sit on a porch and rock through his retirement? Or would he still be charging headfirst into one adventure after another? Fiona suspected the latter and realized she’d prefer the same. Too bad this impressive soldier was so dead set on keeping their relationship casual and ending it upon the conclusion of this event.

With a sigh, Fiona waved toward the table laden with every kind of fancy finger food imaginable. “Hungry?”

His hand tightened around her waist. “Not for food.”

“There’s nothing I’d like more than to slip out of here and out of my dress and heels and make love to you, but my presence is required.”

Wyatt glanced around the room and back to her. “Is there a coat closet or an office we could duck into? I’m betting you aren’t wearing underwear beneath that dress.”

She let her lips curl up slightly on the corner. “You’ll just have to keep guessing until all the guests leave the party, now, won’t you?”

Wyatt growled low in his chest. “Want me to clear them out of here?”

Her eyes widened. “No, I do not. Besides, you wouldn’t want to wrinkle that pretty uniform.”

“Pretty?” He stood even taller, if that was at all possible. “I’ll have you know, Special Forces soldiers aren’t pretty. It’s not regulation.”

Fiona laughed. “Okay, then how about sexy uniform?”

He relaxed beside her and smiled. “That’s better. Can’t lose my macho appeal with a single word.”

Fiona snorted softly. “As if you could lose an ounce of macho. You’re practically bursting at the seams with swagger.”

“How long is this going on?”

Fiona smiled. “It’ll all be over by ten.”

“Good. I don’t know if I can stand wearing this tie that long.”

“If I can stand in these heels, you can wear a tie.”

“I’d rather you and I were naked.”

“I thought you weren’t anxious to continue our relationship?”

“You and I both know that after this event is over, I’m out of here. But while I’m here…” He tugged at his tie. “Damn, woman, you’re making this hard on me.”

Her smile tilted upward. “That’s the idea.”

One of the attendees called out to Fiona.

She sighed. “That’s my cue.”

“Go. I want to have a look around the building and parking garage. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

She reluctantly left Wyatt to attend to the guests, making introductions to the visiting delegates and government officials. After a while her lips hurt from smiling, and if she had to shake one more gorilla hand bent on crushing her bones… Fiona counted the minutes until she could strip out of her dress and get naked with Wyatt again. By thirty minutes until ten o’clock, the party was in full swing and still she’d seen no sign of Wyatt.