Straight Flushed (Hot Pursuit #1)(66)

I closed my eyes. “Stephen,” I said, breathlessly. I begged him to stop with that one, simple word, but it went unnoticed. His hands continued traversing their forbidden path.

“I don’t want lasagna,” he whispered, into my hair. He moved it out of the way, and his lips grazed my neck. “I want you.”

I gripped the edge of the counter with both hands, lost in the intoxicating sensation of his lips on my skin. I leaned my weight back into his chest and tilted my head. My mind continued to tell me to resist, but my body refused to listen. His touch was unbearable, yet satisfying, and my defenses had weakened.

His luring fingers inched from my hips forward, creeping lower and lower before locking me in an embrace at my core. He pulled me softly into him. Electric pulses shot from his fingertips through my clothing nearly blistering my skin. I felt him aroused against my back. He grabbed my waist, spun me around, and lifted me onto the counter. He stepped between my thighs, eyes blazing with fire, boring into me.

I fought to catch my breath. “We can’t do this,” I managed to mutter. I glanced down and saw the bulge beneath his shorts continuing to grow. I forced myself to look away.

He smiled. “Yes, we can. We can do anything we want. I miss you when you’re not here and I want to feel your skin on mine again.” He leaned in with open eyes and when he was a breath away from my lips, I put my hand up to his chest.

“Stop.” I turned my face away. “The rules.”

“I don’t like your rules right now.” He kissed my neck, marking me with his scent.

It took everything within me to push him back. I tittered then looked him straight in the eye. “Trust me, neither do I, but this will be a mistake, for me at least. I have to be at the top of my game. You’re a distraction, albeit a pleasant one.” I grinned. “But a distraction nonetheless.”

He grunted. “Ouch.”

I slouched. “I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

“No, I understand.” He nodded. “I admire your devotion. It’s not something I encounter very often.” He’d put a small amount of space between us, but the heat of his hands continued to warm my thighs. “You’re so different. And so much more than I expected.”

“What exactly did you expect?” I asked, squinting.

“I.” He stopped. “I don’t know.” He moved from between my legs and stood next to me, resting his weight against the edge of the sink.

“Well, why don’t we gather our things and get going? We can eat later.” I cocked a sideways grin and peeked at him.

“Sure,” he said with a weak smile and walked toward the couch.

I packed all the food into my refrigerator and freezer, but my mind wouldn’t get off one burning hot topic. I read once that eating chocolate could give the same satisfaction as sex, so I opened the pantry. I snatched a few of my favorite chocolates off the shelf and headed into my bedroom. I stood in my closet, peeling the red foil wrapper from the square of dark chocolate and shoved the medicine in my mouth. I smoothed the wrinkled foil—as was tradition—and read the message written inside.

“Stir your sense of pleasure,” it said.

Well, that was no help. I balled up the wrapper and tossed it behind me on the bed. I swallowed the first piece and waited. It had done nothing to assuage any feelings whatsoever. I crammed the remaining two pieces in my mouth at the same time, not bothering to read their insidious messages this time. I stared at my clothes. Maybe it would take a few minutes for my brain to release the hormonal response. I chewed and swallowed and chewed and swallowed while I analyzed my wardrobe, waiting again for satisfaction to settle in. It never did.

I shifted my thinking to something else. I would only be away from home for a day so I wouldn’t need much as far as attire: something professional, something casual, and something to sleep in. I pulled a few articles from their hangers and grabbed my suitcase from the bottom of my closet, tossing it all on my bed. I grabbed my shampoo, conditioner, and toiletries from the bathroom and placed everything neatly inside the suitcase. My gun was still holstered on my body, so I grabbed its case from the closet. I laid it on top of everything else and zipped it up. I was ready. And still unsettled.

When I emerged from my bedroom, Stephen was sitting on the couch.

“You ready?” I asked.

“As I’ll ever be.” He stood, grasping his duffle bag, and threw his backpack over his shoulder.

“Okay, once we get outside, stay close behind me.” I headed toward the door.

“No problem there.”

I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Would you be serious?” I smirked.

“Sorry,” he said, looking down and grinning. “Just trying to lighten the mood.”

I fought the smile that was trying to rise to the surface. I needed to flip the switch to professional Diana. “I have one of the company cars outside at the curb. Try to get in as quickly as possible so we can be on our way.” I kept my voice firm and even.

“I need to stop at my car and grab something, if that’s all right?” he asked.

“Is it something you absolutely have to have? I’d rather we went on our way.”

“Yes, there’s something in there I have to have. I’ll be quick. Promise.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “Let’s go.”