Karen Rose - Count to Ten

"I couldn't sleep," he whispered harshly. "I could only think of you. Under me. I have to have you. But if that's not what you want, tell me now and I'll leave."

Her heart physically hurt. Her body was throbbing. He was what she wanted. This was what she needed. Now. "Don't go." She lifted her eyes to his. Then lifted her hands to his face and pulled him down for another bruising kiss that made her knees go weak. He ran his hands down her sides, over her breasts, shaping and reshaping. Flicking his thumbs across her nipples and she shivered. Violently.

It had been too long since she'd had a man's hands on her. Too long since she'd had her hands on a man. She reached for his shirt and pulled at the buttons, yanking at the fabric until she pulled it free. For a full minute she ran her hands over yards of muscle, then raked her fingers through the course hair that covered his chest.

With a muttered curse he grabbed her rear end and lifted her off her feet until their bodies aligned and supporting her weight, thrust against her. He was hard and hot and just where she needed him to be.

No, not exactly where she needed him to be. Not yet. His mouth left hers and kissed a path down the side of her neck.

The hard ridge no longer throbbed against her as he lifted her higher, pulling her legs around his waist.

She opened her mouth to protest, when his mouth closed over her breast and sucked. Hard. She cried out, the protest disintegrating to a moan. She threaded her fingers through his hair and held him there, suckling. He pulled away, moved to the other breast and she let her head drop back against the door and… absorbed.

Abruptly he straightened and startled, she grabbed his shoulders. "Grab my coat," he said and she blinked at him.

"What?"

He carried her to the sofa. "Grab my coat."

She clutched one of his shoulders and leaned over to do what he asked. "Why?"

He was already heading back to her bedroom. "Condoms in the pocket."

She dug in one pocket, then the other and pulled out a white plastic drugstore bag. She let his coat fall to the floor and leaned in to nip at his lips. "Got 'em."

He knelt at the foot of her bed, lowered her carefully to the mattress. He stripped her pants down her legs before she could blink and unwilling to sit on the sidelines, she pulled off her shirt. She was reaching behind her for the hooks of her bra when he set his mouth to her, right through the silk triangle of her thong. She fell back against the pillow, clutched the bedspread in both fists, and once again, simply absorbed.

"You're wet," he muttered. "So wet." He lifted his head and his eyes glittered. "I was hoping you would be."

"I was thinking of you."

His brow lifted and he looked like the devil himself, but the image enticed. "What were you thinking?"

Reflex had her lifting her hips, wanting him back where he'd been, doing what he'd been doing. Never before had it felt so incredibly good. "Solliday, please."

"First you talk."

She lifted herself up on her elbows. "That's extortion."

He grinned and licked her through the silk. "Sue me."

She could play the game. "I was thinking about last night. How you felt against me." She lifted her brows. "You're… incredibly well endowed, Solliday."

His eyes narrowed. "Take off your bra."

Her hands steady, she did, pulling her chain and dogtags off with it.

He drew a breath. "So are you." He pulled the thong aside and dragged a guttural moan from her throat with his mouth.

"I thought about your mouth the first day." she said, panting. Then his tongue stabbed at her and she closed her eyes. "Please."

"Tell me if I do something you don't like."

"1 don't like when you stop," she muttered and he laughed. Then got busy again, dragging her higher, winding her tighter, tauter. She bucked her hips and he pressed her into the mattress and sucked and she arched like a bow. The orgasm shot through her like an electric shock, hard and complete, leaving her weak and gasping.

He slapped a condom in her hand. "Do it," he bit out, pushing his pants to the floor.

Mia's eyes widened. Sated for now, she could admire him. "Oh. This is gonna be good."

"Mia, please. I'm not going to be able to hold back much longer." Gently, she touched him with her fingertips and he jerked. "Mia," he said between his teeth.

So she covered him, then gasped again when he slammed into her with one solid thrust of his hips. He held himself still as if he, too, absorbed. "Did I hurt you?" he asked.

"No. I was just… No." She ran her hands over his shoulders. "Don't stop now."

He grimaced. "I'm not sure I could." He started to move inside her and she did her part, locking her ankles around his waist, meeting each thrust. But his pace quickened, and the thrusts became harder, faster. Deeper. And she felt herself climbing again until she came, this time on a wave that seemed to go on and on until once again she collapsed back against the pillow, weak and gasping.

Above her, Reed went still, his head tilted back, his teeth bared, the muscles in his chest and arms quivering. Beautiful, was all she could think. He was simply beautiful. His head fell forward, and slowly he lowered his weight to his forearms and sighed.

She ran her finger along the line of his goatee, breathing too hard to speak. It had been incredible. Earth shattering.

Not hamburger. She closed her eyes, too tired to worry. That would come later. For now, she'd try to take in as much as she could. Store it away for when she had it no longer. He kissed her forehead, her cheek, her chin. "We have to talk," he said.

She nodded. "Not right now, though." She'd have this, at least. Unspoiled.

"Later, then." He rested his forehead against hers. "Mia. I can't stay all night."

"I know."

"But… I'd like to stay a while longer."

Don't run from him. See where this takes you . "I'd like that, too." Her mouth curved. "You stopped by the drugstore. You must have been pretty sure of yourself."

He lifted his head, met her eyes, and she saw that he spoke truth. "I wasn't. All I knew is that if I didn't have you I'd explode. I hoped you'd say yes. I'm hoping you'll say yes again."

She nodded soberly. "Yes. Again."

Thursday, November 30, 12:30 a.m.

He was ready. He felt the energy flow through his body, like a fine hum. He'd worked through his plan. Their hotel room couldn't be located any better. All the room doors opened to the outside, but theirs was on the first floor, parking places only yards away.

He gently shouldered his backpack. It held three eggs. One was for the Doughertys' bed. He'd studied and now knew exactly how he'd bypass the sprinkler in their room. He'd investigated stairwells and exit paths and laundry rooms and knew exactly where he'd place the two other bombs for maximum burn, turning the whole hotel into hell. There would be mayhem as people streamed out in their pajamas, crying and terrified. Since there'd be no gas for an explosion, a little mayhem was only fair. The fire department would send three, maybe four trucks. There would be ambulances and flashing lights. The news would come, film would roll. They'd frantically check to be sure everyone was out. Then they'd find two bodies.

His system was revved, still charged from before. He'd killed once tonight. He was on a roll. He'd bagged the bloody coat hours before. He now wore a pair of coveralls he'd stolen from the hotel's laundry room. Master key cards were useful things.

He stood at the Doughertys' motel room door, confident no one would give him a second look. Not that it would matter if they did. Thanks to a wig and a little padding, he looked like a different man. His right hand gripped his very sharp knife. In his left, was Tania's master key card. He swiped it and gently tested the door, frowning when it caught. The Doughertys had used the swing bar for extra security. But no worries. He had considerable experience with these devices. Nothing was truly secure if you knew how to get around it. Sliding the thin blade of his knife through the narrow opening of the door he dislodged the swing bar and slipped in the room, carefully closing the door behind him. It was quiet except for the sound of gentle snoring coming from the bed. He stood still, allowing his eyes to become accustomed to the darkness.