Along Came Trouble(48)

He moved a leg between her thighs. His hands found her ass, fingers toying with the hem of her ridiculous shorts and his palms full of denim.

His dick made impatient demands. Take her on the couch. Take her against that wall. Take her on the f*cking floor, just get those clothes off her and get inside her NOW.

Greedy bastard. Caleb backed off, needing to breathe and slow the hell down, but Ellen made a mewling noise and pulled his head back to hers. She kissed him this time, bit his lip, just as aggressive as he’d been. The small amount of blood he needed to operate his brain got reassigned to the raging hard-on pressing against her hip.

He gave up and let his hands roam over every part of her they could reach. She was perfect. Everything about her. Perfect.

Still gripping his head, Ellen pushed him away and looked him in the eye. “Right now, Caleb. No messing around. I want you inside me, taking me so hard I can’t see straight, and if you don’t—”

He covered her mouth with his palm to shut her up. “I will. Jesus. Hold that thought.”

Leaving her there, he crossed to the back of the room, where he closed and locked the French doors. He passed swiftly into the kitchen and closed and locked the side door. Back through to the entryway. She hadn’t moved. He closed and locked the front door.

He was as capable of resisting temptation as the next guy. Maybe more so. But this wasn’t temptation. This was Ellen, talking dirty and begging him to have sex with her, and how could anyone resist that? No man could. He sure as hell couldn’t.

Straight down the hall to her bedroom, he lowered the damn blinds.

And then he went back to the living room, hauled her into his arms, and kissed her again. Slower this time. Thoroughly. If he was going to have her—and he was—he’d do it properly.

Smooth, silky skin. Warm, willing woman. She moaned encouragement, sliding her tongue into his mouth and sending a jolt of lust straight to his cock that felt like pure joy.

“Bed,” he said after a minute. “The floor would be a crime.”

“That way.” She pointed over his shoulder.

Fastest way to get there was to carry her. He lifted her by the hips and kissed her again as she wrapped her legs around him. They bumped hard into the wall in the hallway when she ground against his cock with a breathy little moan. He toed off his shoes on her bedroom carpet and kneeled on the wine-red comforter with Ellen plastered to his chest, her face tipped back to kiss him.

They fell onto the mattress together, a graceless dead weight, though he managed to get his elbows under him so he didn’t crush her.

This wasn’t what he was supposed to be doing, but it felt right. Ellen felt right. Sometimes, that was all you had to go by. Caleb stared down at her, her face shadowed in the dim room, her eyes liquid and luminous, and made his peace with it.

She tugged his shirt out of his slacks. “Get this off.”

“That sounded suspiciously like an order.”

She tipped her hips up, rubbing hard against him and making a low, needy noise in her throat that pretty much did him in. Her nipples brushed against his chest through his shirt, and he had to taste them. To watch her move, naked, underneath him.

It was possible she’d come to her senses later and hate him for this. It was even possible he’d get fired for it. Unlikely, but possible.

It didn’t matter. Only a very stupid man would turn down what she was offering him, and he was not very stupid. Out of his head with lust, yeah, and maybe only moderately intelligent on a good day, but not altogether stupid.

He had enough brain cells left to unbutton a shirt.

As he sat up, still straddling her, she smiled her show-stopping smile and asked, “So you still take orders?”

“From you, apparently I do.” He leaned way out and fumbled with her bedside lamp until he found the switch. Light spilled over her hair, which spilled over her pillow. Gorgeous.

“Did they call you ‘Sarge,’ like on TV?”

That she knew his rank made him smile. She must have asked Carly. “They say it more like ‘Sar’nt.’”

“And if I order you to make it fast, and hard, and rough, Sergeant Clark . . . ?”

She slid her hands up underneath his shirttail to splay across his stomach. With a shudder, he closed his eyes and fought to tamp down his response. She was so provocative, so freaking hot, but there was an innocence to her, too. He wanted to f*ck her silly and shelter her at the same time.

Probably better pick one.