Naughty Heroes

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Mitch knew he should take a step back and think about this before he did something stupid. Okay, more stupid than he’d already done. But kissing Sara had become the most important thing in his life.

All those years, all those miles and experiences stood between them. He had no idea what she’d been up to since he’d left. Oh, he knew she’d married. And that still stung like the devil, but the marriage hadn’t lasted. She was single now. He’d made a point of finding out before he’d agreed to come back.

Her skin was soft under his fingertips. Her lips were glossy pink and so pretty. She hadn’t worn lipstick when they were younger. Her parents hadn’t allowed her makeup of any kind. Even now, she kept it light. It suited her.

She was also more of a Sara now. Sara Leigh was a girl. Sara was all woman, proud and strong.

He pressed his lips against hers again, wanting to yell in triumph when she yielded to him, parting her lips slightly. The urge to claim, to conquer, was almost more than he could resist, but somehow he managed.

Nothing had changed when it came to the attraction between them except maybe it was even more potent than it had been, more sexually charged. He’d had other women. s*x was easy to find if he wanted it. But this was different. She was different.

He angled his head and deepened their contact, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. She made a little sound of pleasure in the back of her throat and his d**k just about exploded. God Almighty, but he wanted her.

He backed her toward a wall, crowding her when she could retreat no more. Hands flat on the wall to keep from going too fast, he nonetheless leaned against her, enjoying the press of her lush breasts against his chest.

Her fingers dug into his biceps before sliding up to curve around his neck. “What are we doing, Mitch?”

“Damned if I know.” But that was a lie. He knew exactly what he was doing, what he wanted. Taking the job to come back here to investigate drug dealing was only an excuse. He’d really come back for Sara.

She might be involved, a voice in the back of his head reminded him. If she was, it would kill him. He’d lose her for good and there would be no more chances for them.

He rested his forehead on her shoulder and took a deep breath. Big mistake. All he could smell was Sara—the floral soap she favored, sweat, and a combination of sugar and yeast from the drinks she’d been serving all night long.

“I want to see you. To talk,” he added when he saw her hesitate. “After work. Let me drive you home.”

“That’s not a good idea.” She nibbled on her bottom lip, a nervous gesture that was sexy as hell. He could tell she was already shoring up her defenses and couldn’t allow that to happen.

“I deserve to know why you didn’t wait for me, why you married another man.”

* * * * *

When she was a little girl, she’d been thrown from the back of a neighbor’s horse, landing hard on the ground, with all the wind knocked out of her. She hadn’t been able to breathe, had thought she was dying until her daddy had lifted her up and thumped her on the back. The smack had added to her bruises but had shocked her into breathing again.

That’s exactly what she was experiencing right now. Mitch wanted to know why she hadn’t waited for him. His brown eyes were serious, his gaze unwavering. Oh God, what had she done?

She clasped her hands to her throat as it closed over in a wave of grief and anger so huge it threatened to swallow her whole.

“Sara.” He clasped his hands over her shoulders and shook her lightly. “Sara Leigh, you breathe. You hear me.”

She managed a short gasp and then another. Her heart was thundering, her head pounding. When she swayed, he scooped her up into his arms and sat on the hard plastic chair, cradling her against his chest.

“I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have been so damn blunt. But we have things we need to discuss.”

Before she could reply, the door was shoved open and her boss stepped inside, a smirk on his face as he took in the scene before him. “Taking an extra long break, Sara?”

She jumped to her feet, but Mitch snagged her hand before she could get away.

“Later?” he asked.

She nodded. They needed to talk, to settle things between them. She needed to know the truth, which she was beginning to understand was far different from what she’d believed all these years.

Hair disheveled and lips still swollen from Mitch’s kisses, she straightened her T-shirt and nodded. “After work.”

She gave her boss a worried glance, but he wasn’t paying her the slightest bit of attention any longer. No, he was totally focused on Mitch with an intensity that far exceeded the situation. What was going on? She had a million questions and needed answers. She’d get them, but right now she had tables to wait and a paycheck to earn.

* * * * *

Mitch watched the gentle sway of Sara’s behind as she hurried away. He wanted to punch Johnny for interrupting them, but it was probably for the best, considering how public the place was. Still, it didn’t hurt for him to know Sara had someone looking out for her. Going forward it gave him a reason to hang out here. He couldn’t have planned it better himself.

He slowly stood and nodded. “Johnny.” Johnny Ellis had been a couple years ahead of him in school, but they’d known each another. He was shorter than Mitch, but wide and strong as a bull and twice as mean. He was wearing jeans, but his shirt was fancy, at least for around here. And the boots he was wearing had cost a pretty penny. Johnny had done well for himself.

“Well, well. The prodigal son has come home. Never thought you’d show your ugly face around these parts again once you’d left.”

Unwilling to let the other man goad him, Mitch relaxed and flicked a glance at the door. “Unfinished business.” Was it his imagination or had Johnny’s shoulders relaxed slightly.

“You always did have a thing for Sara Hawkins.” Johnny walked toward him. “Not that I can blame you. Good looking woman, Sara. No longer married either.”

Yup, that was just like Johnny to find a weakness and try to exploit it. Some things never changed. “No, she’s not. You ever marry?” He knew damn well Johnny’s girl had run off with a guy who’d been passing through town. That had happened before Mitch had left.

Johnny scowled. “I don’t have time for a wife.” He spread his hands wide. “I’m married to the bar. I’m a businessman. An entrepreneur.” He laughed and then his expression became more calculating. “You?”

Mitch shook his head. “I was married to the military, but that’s over with now.” And that still killed him. He hadn’t known what he was going to do but had been considering several options. Then the opportunity to come home had presented itself. He’d wrestled with the life changing decision, but finally decided if he didn’t put the past to rest, he’d never be able to move forward. “I came back to clear out the old house.”

He couldn’t begin to imagine how much work that would be. His uncle had a tendency to let things go.

Johnny smirked. “Yeah, that will take some work. You staying?”

He shrugged. “Haven’t decided. Depends on a lot of things.”

“I bet.” Johnny motioned to the door. “I have to get back to work.” It went unspoken that Mitch couldn’t stay. He ambled out of the room, very aware of Johnny at his back. He let himself limp a little, even though it galled him to do it. Johnny would consider him weak and dismiss him from his thoughts. Exactly what Mitch wanted.

The music and voices hit him like a sledgehammer, forcing him to pause to get his bearings. The table on the far side of the bar was still open, his coke and the beer Judith had brought him still there.

Gritting his teeth against the urge to take cover, he strolled back to his chair. He was sweating by the time he sat, grateful to have his back against the wall once again. When he glanced toward the bar, Johnny was watching him.

He shoved both drinks aside. No way was he drinking something that had been left unattended for so long. He wasn’t an i***t.

Sara hurried up to him. “Everything okay?”

Mitch leaned back, resting his hands on his stomach, trying desperately to give the impression he was totally relaxed when he was wound tighter than a broken clock. “Any reason it wouldn’t be?”

She frowned and pointed at his drinks. “Anything wrong with them?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t order the beer and there’s no way I’m drinking anything I left alone for so long.”

“No one around here would touch your drink. You’ve been away too long.”

“Still not drinking it.” Better safe than sorry. “I’d like another coke.”

Sara cleared the still full glasses and returned them to the bar. Now the bartender was glaring at him. No doubt about it, he was barely home and already making friends. He almost snorted, wondering what his buddies would think about the place. He missed them, their unflinching support and camaraderie. His time in the service had given him so much.

His phone rang and he fished it out of his pocket.

“Hey, Hillbilly. You ready to come back to the fold yet?”

The nickname made him smile. “I just got here.” Amos Bishop was one of his best friends, a man he’d have at his back any day.

“Seriously man, you going to come back?” All his buddies kept asking him that, but now that he was home, he knew the answer.

“No. I need to be here.” Sara placed his fresh drink on the table and hurried away, but not before she gave his phone a curious glance. “And I can’t come back. My leg isn’t going to get any better.” The days of hoping for that to happen were done.

“If you need anything, all you have to do is ask.”

The burden on his shoulders lifted slightly. No matter where he lived or what he did, he’d made the kinds of friends, forged the kinds of bonds that lasted a lifetime. “Same goes. I’ll call you when I get settled in.” After a few more minutes of playing catch up, Mitch ended the call and tucked his phone away. Then he settled back to wait.

* * * * *

Sara’s feet were aching and her shoulders stiff by the time the bar closed. It didn’t take her long to gather her coat. She never brought a purse to work. They had staff lockers, but the locks weren’t the best. She figured it wasn’t smart to tempt anyone by leaving anything valuable there. She kept her license, keys, and a few bucks into her front jeans pocket and tucked her phone into her back one.

This night had dragged on forever. Never had she both anticipated and dreaded finishing her shift more. As promised, Mitch was waiting just outside the door for her.

“I’ll drive you home.”

She shook her head. No way was she leaving her car here. Plus, she needed some time alone to try to get a handle on her wayward emotions. “Follow me.” She didn’t wait to see what he would do, but his truck was right behind her when she pulled out.

She tried to think, but it was impossible. There were too many wayward thoughts jumping around her brain. Then she was turning into the driveway of her home. It had changed a lot since he’d seen it last. Both her parents were dead. Her mother had been gone for a long time, and her daddy had passed of lung cancer only last year. Now it was just her. Well, her and an assortment of aunts, uncles, and cousins who all lived close by.

By the time she shut off the engine, Mitch was opening the door for her. He’d always had good manners, doing little things like that. She hurried ahead of him, unlocking the door and stepping inside.

The light she’d left on in the living room gave the space a warm glow. “Ah, can I get you anything?” She tossed her coat aside and hovered beside the kitchen door, not quite sure what to do. She was more nervous than she wanted to admit.

“I’m fine.” He glanced toward the sofa. “Why don’t we sit?”

Sitting was good. She made her way toward the chair, figuring it was safer not to sit next to him, but he stood in her way.

She looked up at him and was lost. Her intention to talk, to hash out the past disappeared beneath a burning need. Mitch was here.

She brushed her hand over his hard jaw. “Mitch.” He swallowed hard when she said his name. His eyes grew even darker as he reached for her.

“Sara.” There was such emotion in that one word it brought tears to her eyes. Then she was in his arms. She didn’t know if he reached for her or if she’d thrown herself at him. All that mattered was he was touching her.

It was like being enclosed in a warm blanket after being cold for years. It might not be the smartest thing to do, but she wanted Mitch. There were too many regrets she had to live with already. She wasn’t about to add another one to the list.

They could talk after. No matter what came, she wanted his arms around her one more time, to have that intimate connection to another person. She might have been married, but it had always been s*x between her and Connor. The only man she’d ever made love with was Mitch, and they’d been practically children then. She’d been a timid seventeen-year-old, thinking him worldly at eighteen.

“Sara,” he began again.

“No.” She gripped his T-shirt in her hands and pulled him back. “Talk later.” Then she kissed him with every ounce of pent-up passion stored inside her.

He didn’t disappoint.

He put his hands on her butt and lifted her off her feet. She rubbed her mound against the bulge in his jeans, whimpering and squirming. Her panties were already wet.

Mitch was moving, but she didn’t care where he took her. She was too busy relearning every inch of the man. He had muscles on his muscles. Obviously he’d not only kept in shape but taken it a step further.

His shoulders were wide and solid, his chest broad. She ran her hands over his biceps, loving the flex and play of them.

Then he was lowering them onto her bed. Keeping her legs locked around him, she kissed him, feeling a sense of desperation. How long was he here for? Would he leave her again?

She almost stopped then. Almost pushed him away in a moment of self-preservation, but passion reigned and would not be denied.

He dropped kisses on her forehead and cheeks, along her jaw, and down her neck before nibbling at the sensitive area. Goose bumps ran down her arms. He raised his head and stared down at her, giving her the opportunity to stop if that was what she wanted.

She ran her fingers through his short hair and dragged him back. He kissed her then, the way she remembered, with a singular focus that made her entire body heat. His tongue traced the contours of her lips before plunging inside to map every corner and crevice of her mouth.

And she returned the caress, wanting to know if kissing him was as good as her memories. She’d been too shocked earlier to really allow herself to enjoy him.

It was even better.

Maybe it was age and experience, maybe it was knowing how easy it was to lose something so special. Whatever the reason, every cell in her body yearned for him.

She tugged at his shirt, wanting it off. He raised himself enough to grab a handful of material and drag it over his head. She made a hum of pleasure before spreading her hands over his chest. His skin was darker than hers, but he’d always tanned more easily.

Leaning toward him, she touched her lips to his skin, wanting to taste him. He was salty and hot and all male.

While she’d been busy stroking him, he’d shoved her shirt up to expose her bra. He ran his fingertips along the band, teasing her bare flesh just below. Then he covered one of the cotton-covered mounds with his palm.

Her n*****s grew taut, poking at him. She arched into his touch, needing more.

He shoved the bra up, giving him full access. Using his mouth and tongue, he laved and sucked her n*****s to hard points. She gripped his head and held on. Her legs moved restlessly against the mattress.

He had such good hands—strong and callused and incredibly gentle. And his mouth. Oh, his mouth made her squirm and want and need.

She ran her hands down his chest and around to his back before slipping them just past the waistband of his jeans. It left her wanting more.

“Mitch.” His name was little more than a moan.

He reared back, his chest expanding and contracting with each gulp of air he sucked in. He looked big and dangerous in the dark of her bedroom.

As if he’d read her thoughts, he reached over and flicked on the bedside lamp. Sara blinked, even though the light wasn’t all that strong.

Mitch knelt above her, a conquering hero returning home to claim his woman. She reached out and tugged at the button of his jeans.