Naz tugged his beanie down over his head as his mother followed him down the hallway. “Nah, just put a plate in the fridge, Ma, in a container. I’ll grab it before I head out. Promise.”
Catherine sighed. “I can’t believe you’re not staying long enough to have supper, Naz. You’re heading out tomorrow, right? I know your run is coming up. You always spend an evening with us before heading out for that.”
His mother wasn’t wrong. It was something his father had gotten him in to the habit of doing. Before each and every gun run he made, Naz spent the evening with his family. Like a reminder, his dad would say. This is where you need to come back to, Naz. This is where you’re wanted and needed. So, you remind yourself why you need to get this done, and get back safely.
So, he’d come.
But he also had someone else to go see, too.
“But—”
“Catty,” came a dark murmur from down the hallway.
Naz glanced over his shoulder to find his father leaning lazily in the doorway between the hallway and the living room. Cross had said nothing about Naz leaving early because it looked like he expected it.
His mother, on the other hand …
“Let him go,” Cross said. “He’s got business across the woods, I imagine.”
Catherine glanced between her husband, and her son for a moment before her posture softened. “Oh. Why didn’t you just say that?”
Naz shrugged, but said nothing.
Because it wasn’t anyone’s business, he supposed. This thing between him and Roz was still all-consuming, and a little too crazy. He hadn’t even figured it out yet. He was not willing to share it, either. Not even with his mother. Not right now.
Catherine would understand eventually.
“Say hello for us,” his mother whispered, patting his cheek with a soft touch. “And do not forget your food before you go.”
Naz laughed, and leaned in to kiss his mother’s waiting cheek. “How can I forget your cooking, Ma?”
She gave him that look. All mother’s had it.
He just laughed again.
With a wave, Naz was free to leave without more questions, apparently. Why his mother didn’t just realize where he was going as he’d headed for the back of the house, and not the front, Naz didn’t know.
He tightened the neck on his leather jacket, and slipped out into the evening light. It wasn’t entirely dark out, since the moon was up on one side while the sun was still peeking out a bit on the other side. Just enough light to make the trip on foot through the woods a bit safer.
Naz could have pushed the gun run back a couple of days, but that meant doing a run to Mexico and crossing the border with the guns on a weekday instead of the following weekend. That always made shit a little more complicated, and dangerous, really. Every run he made was carefully planned, and executed according to schedule to minimize the risk of a smuggle going bad.
That was his father’s first and last lesson when Naz decided he was going to follow Cross’s footsteps into gunrunning.
One of many lessons, really.
But … he’d been trained by the best which may not have made Naz the very best there was, but he was terribly fucking close to it. There wasn’t another gunrunner on the continent that could challenge Naz’s success rates. Except maybe his father, and frankly, Naz was getting close to passing that record, too.
Not that Cross liked it pointed out.
Everybody had their pride.
Despite how badly Naz had wanted to push the run back a couple of days so that he could spend more time with Roz—the run was going to keep him away for a week, likely, with no contact to anyone outside of his partner and the buyer—he figured it was just best to get it the hell over with.
He could pick up with Roz once he got back. She’d understand, even if he didn’t plan on telling her running guns was what he would be doing for the next week instead of being here with her.
That was a conversation for another day.
Not tonight.
Slipping into the trails, Naz navigated the terrain easily. Like it was the back of his hand he was recalling, and not a dirt path. He could walk these trails with his eyes closed, likely. He knew them that well, and felt that comfortable with them.
He was halfway through the trail when he caught sight of her coming down the path from the other direction. Naz’s grin split his face instantly. Roz was still looking down at her feet, so she hadn’t even noticed him at all yet. Likely making sure she didn’t trip over something knowing her.
Those hands of hers …
Those damn hands.
So precious.
Soft.
Delicate.
Full of talent, spirit, and his.
She was entirely his.
He’d decided.
“Sometimes, you need to watch for what’s coming down the path, too, Roz,” Naz said, smirking, “or someone might sneak up on you like this.”
Roz’s head snapped up, and she came to a full stop only inches from where Naz was standing with that shit-eating smirk. She blinked, smiled widely, and then launched herself at him. Naz caught her around the waist with a laugh of his own, before picking her right up from the ground like she weighed nothing at all.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, and that thin, flimsy dress she wore did nothing to hide the soft warmth of her center pressing against his stomach. It was fucking impossible for him to ignore the way it felt, never mind how it had his cock perking up in an instant. Like the bastard was revving and ready to go. His dick just wanted to say hello, and get acquainted with the parts of Roz that he’d been holding back from because this … and that, would always be on her time.
When she wanted.
No matter what.
“I said I would come over to your place,” he murmured, reaching up to stroke her cheek with two fingers. He took the moment of her silence to enjoy the sight the of her joy coloring her cheeks, and making her eyes glitter. Nothing was more beautiful than this woman. He was sure of it. Life, and beauty, and grace right there in his arms. He was holding it—her. Nothing could make him let go. He was sure of it. “What, did you get tired of waiting?”
Roz let out a breathless laugh as her legs tightened around his waist, and she dropped a sweet kiss to his mouth. “Nope. Just wanted to surprise you.”
Naz tucked a strand of her loose hair behind her ear. “That so?”
“Yep.”
“Missed you, my girl.”
“You just saw me yesterday.”
So?
Was that supposed to make a difference because Naz didn’t think so. He couldn’t control the way he fucking felt all the time when it came to this woman. Even a second away from her was one second too many, as far as he was concerned.
He wasn’t going to apologize for it, either.
“Besides,” he said, “I think you like it when I miss you.”
Winking, he spun them around so that her back was resting against the smooth trunk of a tree. Leaning in, he kissed a path across her smiling cheekbone, and then down to her lips. Over her chin, and jaw. Finally, down her throat. Soft, slow kisses that allowed him to feel the way she shivered, and drew in quick, short breaths.
God, yeah.
He liked that.
Slowly, Naz came back to her mouth before lingering there a little longer with his next kiss. So then, he could taste her. Feel the heat of her mouth, and enjoy the way their kiss had somehow become a familiar dance for him.
Roz grew silent, and her gaze locked on his. Her soft fingertips came up to stroke overtop the dusting of facial hair covering his jaw and cheeks. There was something in her eyes—something he knew because it reflected back in his. He wore that same look from the moment he laid eyes on her, and really saw her.
Still, he stayed quiet.
Unmovable.
This was all on her.
“I think I more than like it, actually,” Roz whispered.
“Oh?”
“Love it, maybe.”
Naz quirked a brow high. “Is that what this is—love?”
“Isn’t that a little crazy, Naz?”
“What, to be in love?”
“Maybe.”
“I’d rather be crazy than normal, Roz,” Naz returned. “And you’re far from normal, aren’t you?”
“Like you, too.”
“Mmm. Better we’re crazy together. It’s more fun this way.”
She swallowed audibly, and then her tongue peeked out to swipe across her bottom lip. Naz couldn’t help himself but to trace the same path her tongue had taken with the pad of his thumb. That gaze of hers—still locked on him and waiting, now—darkened, and he felt her bottom lip tremble under his touch.
He drew his hand away, but her voice stopped him. Airless, and aching. That’s how she sounded to him.
“Don’t stop now,” Roz said softly.
“Roz—”
Her legs tightened around him in that way again. The way that made her lower half press firmly against him. There was no hiding the hard ridge of his cock rubbing against the soft junction between her thighs, either.
“Fuck,” Naz mumbled. “Don’t start that out here.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not fucking you against a tree.” Naz’s smirk came back in an instant. “At least, not for your first time.”
Her cheeks pinked, and her lips popped open.
“That’s not how this should be,” he added quieter, drawing closer to the sweetness that was her mouth. “That’s never how your first time should be, Roz.”
“Shouldn’t it be how I want it to be?”
Naz chuckled. “No, what you want right now is to soothe the fucking ache, babe. You want to feel better. It’s called relief and release. That’s what you want. You think that’s sex, but it can be a lot of things.”
“I know what release is, Nazio.”
His grin deepened. “Oh, do you now?”
That pink color climbed down her throat. It only made Naz’s cock harder, really. “Well—”
He leaned closer until their noses touched, she couldn’t see anything but him, and his lips grazed hers as he said, “because you touch yourself, don’t you? You get yourself off, Roz. Is that how you know?”
She sucked in a sharp breath.
Naz wasn’t about to let her be shy now. Not two minutes ago, she had been more than willing to try and fuck him in the woods. She had it in her—she just needed a little help to bring the wild out.
Naz was damn good at being wild.
“Tell me,” he murmured. “What do you think about when you’re touching yourself, hmm? Go on, tell me.”
Roz blinked. “You.”
“Me.”
“You,” she echoed. “I think about you, and it makes me shake.”
Hell yeah, that’s what he wanted to hear.
His lips crashed against hers hard. There was nothing nice or soft or easy about the kiss. Gone was the way he wanted to taste and enjoy the moment. How could he give a shit about that when her fingernails were digging into his jaw as she pulled him impossibly closer, and kissed him back like it was the breath she needed in her lungs to live.
It was addictive.
Amazing.
So fucking crazy.
His hands had a mind of their own. Skimming under the skirt of her dress to push the flimsy fabric higher around her thighs, so his fingers could inch closer to heaven. Roz’s teeth nipped into his lower lip before she pulled that beanie from his head to get her hands wrapped up in his hair.
His fingertips found her warm and damp overtop her cotton panties. Unashamed and fucking perfect, she ground against the feeling of his hand stroking her where she wanted him the most.
Where had that shyness gone now?
Naz was glad it left.
Her hand came down to meet with his before slipping beneath her panties. The wet heat of her sex met his fingertips. Slick, and so fucking sleek. The soft, trimmed hair grazed his palm as she pressed her body harder against his hand.
“More,” Roz demanded.
Christ.
He couldn’t possibly deny her when she sounded like that. His fingers found her sweetest spot—tight, warm and wet. And he felt her own hand circle and press and stroke. Until she was shaking, mumbling his name, and looking sweeter than ever.
Roz really did make the best kind of music.