Spicy Unedited Excerpt from:

Tracker's Sin

Copyright © Sarah McCarty 2010
All rights reserved Harlequin SPICE.

"Do you actually believe I as intimate with you because I was…scared?"

"It's more likely than not."

The inside of his thigh begged for a harder pinch. "You have the strangest notions."

His hand smoothed across her hair. "Not so strange from where I sit."

She pinched him after all. He caught her hand and drew it aside his with that same calm with which he did everything. "Then you need to change your seat."

All her snapping did was make him smile. His hand continued stroking until her heart slowed it's frantic pace. The quiet of the night settled back around them.

The peace lasted three minutes before he drawled, "So do you, you know."

"You just have to have the last word, don't you?"

"Who doesn't?"

"I suppose next you're going to tell me to not think about it?"

This time his hand followed her hair down over her back and spine, catching the end of one section and drawing it back up her body until it caught on her breast. He wrapped it around once, then, taking the end like a brush, he stroked it across her nipple. She watched as he did it again, the timbre of his voice sinking deep into her bones.

"On the contrary. I want you to think about it the whole time I love you. Every minute. Every second."


He turned her on her back, caught her shoulders and lifted her higher on the mattress. This time, when he came down over her, he stayed a little to the side. Her breath caught, but the terror only simmered.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yes. Thank you."

"Now, I want you to think of them. I want you to remember what they did to you. Close your eyes and think hard on it. Everything you can recall. I want you to."

"I don't want to think on it. Not now."

"There's no better time than right at this moment. Remember how they kissed you."

She did. Horrible painful devourings of her mouth. Tracker’s lips touched hers once, twice, the soft and tender way that he’d taught her meant "I love you".

"You holding onto it?"

Yes, she was, but the memories had nothing to do with this.

"How far do you want me to carry this?"

"As far as you want."

"You want me to bite your tongue, too?"

His smile pressed against hers. "If you feel the need."

The kisses on her mouth traveled to the right and landed on the corner. Tingles started in her arms and spread to her hands. She needed to hold on to something. She grabbed the sheets. They weren't substantial enough. She reached up and found Trackers broad shoulders. Sleek muscle flexed under smooth skin. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel, remembering how easily he'd held her up against the wall in the barn. How thoroughly he'd taken her. How hard she'd come. Yes. That's what she wanted. The memory of Tracker giving her pleasure.

"You thinking on what I told you?"

The kisses spread to her cheek.


He caught her earlobe between his lips. She braced herself, waiting for the bite. But there was just a flick of his tongue and the tiniest pressure that created such an intense feeling, she had to turn her head away. Tracker chuckled—a deep, dark, sexy sound that promised more of the same.

"Why not?"

"Because I'd rather remember how good you feel in me."

His body jerked against hers. "Good because there's no comparison."

No there wasn't. Tracker was pleasure. Pure and simple.

His lips traveled from her ear down her neck, followed the taut cord there. Other men had kissed her that way. She'd felt nothing. But now, oh now, this was good. She turned her head away, giving Tracker better access. Giving the pleasure more room to grow.

"I only want to love on you."

His hand slid down her shoulder, skimming the back of her arm in the barest of touches. Goose bumps sprang up in the wake of the seductive lure, spreading inward to her chest as his fingers slipped beneath her palm tickling the sensitive surface. Another shiver shook her from head to toe. Another chuckle blended into the night.

Lacing his fingers between hers, Tracker slowly drew her hand above her head and pinned it with his. He repeated the same process with the other arm until he was holding both her hands trapped above her head while he leaned above her. His hair slid over his shoulder, slipping across her left nipple in a silken caress, sending yet another bolt of sensation through her.

"Now, I've got you."

His legs straddled hers, pinning her in yet another way. His cock fell against her mound—hard, hot and eager. She braced herself for the onslaught of the lights. They didn't come. Instead, there came the memory of when he'd first taken her—the intimate struggle to take him in, the pleasure/pain as he'd gained that first inch, the bliss of taking him all.

And for the first time, she saw Vincente's lie for the gift it was. Thinking herself a once-happy woman, she'd had no fear of Tracker that day. She'd been open and accepting and he'd made her happy. And that memory was so much more powerful than the others.

"You concentrating?"

Ari answered with a lift of her hips, which slid Tracker's cock a fraction of an inch along her pussy. It wasn't enough. "Nope."

He leaned down. She raised up. Their mouths met. Gently. Softly.

"Am I in trouble?"

His smile was pure seduction. Pulling back, he slid his cock along her pussy again. "Oh, yeah."

"Good." She reached for him. He caught her hands and shook his head "no".

"You keep these up here."


"Because this is me creating us, and I need my focus."

He needed his focus. She wrapped her fingers around his and squeezed while she blinked back the tears.

"You crying?"

"It was a beautiful thought."

"Heck, woman. I'm trying to seduce you, not make poetry."

"You're doing both."

"If I let go, are you good to keep your hands there?"

She had to ask. "What if I don't?"

His hand slipped down to cup her breast. "Then I won't kiss these pretty little breasts."

She slammed her hands back into the mattress.

He smiled, the fall of his hair hiding the scar, and again she saw the boy inside the man. "Awful compliant, all of a sudden."

"I'm hoping for a reward."

He looked up from where he was studying her breasts. "Good."

His hand cupped her breast. His expression went serious as he watched his thumb over her nipple. She had the strange feeling he was avoiding her gaze. "We both know what it's like to be made love to for all the wrong reasons."

He was avoiding her gaze. Because he felt vulnerable? It was hard to imagine Tracker, unsure.

"This time, I want to try it for the right ones and see how it goes."

She reached up and cupped his face in her hands, bringing his gaze to hers. By the time she got to see his expression, any trace of insecurity was gone, but she knew it had been there. She only knew one way to make it go away.

"I want you to make love to me, Tracker. The way you've always dreamed of.”

His eyes went dark and hot. "No need to go that far. I'll settle for this."

“This” began as his big hand plumping her breast before squeezing it a few times, stroking gently with his fingers from base to tip once, twice, three times, never quite touching the nipple, teasing her with the possibility. Pleasure built with the rhythm he set, arcing inward from her nipple, flowing in a direct line to her pussy. Her clit swelled right along with her breast. Her pussy ached in sweet pulses, and still, he didn't touch her where she needed him to.

"Tracker," she whispered, twisting on the bed.

Another almost touch. "Anything you want, sweets."

"You. I want you."

"Where?" The question breathed against her aching nipple.

"Here," she arched her back, pressing her nipple against the softness of his lips. They parted, tempting her further. His breath bathed the nub in heat, preparing it for the moist possession of his tongue. Soft against hard. Wet against dry.


She moaned, he laughed, and his hair shifted against the side of her breast. Another sweet caress, ripe with tenderness. Because, like when he kissed her mouth softly, she heard the “I love you” in his touch. And when his lips caught the tender bud between them and pressed before sucking slowly, easily, she also heard the "I want you."

And that was beautiful.

His hand slid over her stomach and then further. She gasped.

"Easy, sweets," he whispered against her breast. "Just more pleasure."

His finger nudged between the thick folds of her labia, finding her clit. Lights shot from behind her eyes as he pressed.


"What? Too much? Do you want me to stop?"

It was a struggle to find her voice as his finger circled over the slick bundle of nerves, but she did. "If you do, I'm going to fetch that damn knife."






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