Cavanaugh on Duty(30)

Esteban stopped for a second time, even as all systems were gleefully proclaiming to be a “go” inside her.

“At this rate—” she struggled hard to catch her breath and not gasp out her words “—my accelerator is going to stall out or break altogether.”

“I just want to be sure it’s not the alcohol,” Esteban told her, his eyes holding her in place.

She wasn’t sure what he was asking her. Did he think his judgment had gotten clouded because he’d had a few drinks? “For me or for you?” she asked.

“You.” Had he been the one to imbibe too much, he had enough control over himself to stop what he was doing and insist she go home. But he was worried that her resistance had been compromised.

Kari’s eyes held his as she struggled with the very real desire to just rip off all his clothes and end any need for further discussion.

Her voice was low and husky with raw desire as she said, “I stopped drinking four hours ago.”

His eyes scrutinized her. “Then you’re sure?” he pressed, giving her every chance to shut him down.

“Let me think.” Kari pretended to give his question serious consideration. That lasted exactly one second. “Yeah, I’m sure,” she told him with feeling.

“Good,” he pronounced.

That was all he wanted to hear—to be sure that he wasn’t just taking advantage of her or the moment, that he wasn’t pressuring her into something she wasn’t fully prepared for. Had she opted to walk away, he wasn’t certain what he would have done to cope with her rejection. He knew only that he would have had to deal with it somehow.

But he was very grateful he wasn’t going to have to find out how.

Even so, Kari had managed to awaken a hunger in him that hadn’t reared its head in so long that he couldn’t remember it—the last time he’d actually been with a woman. But Esteban forced himself to rein in his eagerness. He made himself go slowly so that they could both savor the moment, rather than making love as if they were swirling about on the outer funnel of a twister, forced to blast through it before they were both unceremoniously thrown to the ground. That way wouldn’t have been memorable, only fast.

He wanted it to be memorable.

And perforce Esteban had no intentions of taking her right here, by the front door, even though his body was more than ready to do just that.

Instead, his mouth still sealed to hers, his desire for her so red-hot it was almost sizzling, he began to move backward, forcing her to match him step for step, going in small, measured steps that would eventually lead them into his bedroom.

And while the unorthodox two-step was going on, he was undressing her, coaxing the silvery straps off her slender shoulders, tugging the shimmery material down her upper torso.

When the top portion of her dress had dipped to her waist, she felt Esteban’s mouth curving against hers. He was smiling, she realized incredulously.

“What?” she breathed, wanting to know what could have made him respond this way. Was he smiling? Or was he actually laughing at her?

She didn’t want to believe the latter.

“Just as I thought,” she heard him murmur as his palms cupped her breasts. “You’re not wearing a bra.”

Her eyes met his and he saw a positive wickedness come into the blue orbits. Her laugh was low and sultry and instantly wove itself underneath his skin, tantalizing him.

“That’s not all I’m not wearing,” she whispered just before her lips returned to his.

She’d fallen behind in the war on clothes and worked now to make up for it, pulling his jacket off his wide shoulders, then going on to attack his jeans, unbuckling, unbuttoning and pushing the denim down his taut hips and off his thighs.

She heard him catch his breath, felt his anticipation as it throbbed through his loins.

Her pulse accelerated as she felt her own anticipation heightening.

They’d made their way into the middle of the living room, a trail of his clothing marking the path. He had yet to explore the meaning behind her statement about more missing articles of clothing.

Steeling himself, holding tightly on to his last shred of control, Esteban pulled her dress farther down her torso, easing the fabric along her hips to discover that the thong he expected to see on her was nowhere to be found.

“Commando,” he murmured, referring to her lack of underwear.

“Seemed somehow appropriate,” she said, her breath hot along his skin, pushing him to the brink and then over.

Sweeping her up into his arms, his mouth sealed to hers again, he carried Kari to his bedroom.

Gently depositing her on his rumpled gray comforter, he slid his body down next to hers, never fully breaking their contact or the rhythm they had achieved.

His very blood heating within him, Esteban kissed her over and over again, growing more and more excited with each and every pass.

He caressed her body, his touch gentle, his fingers spread out as if he were committing all parts of her to memory as quickly as he could. He could almost feel the flames of desire licking his body as he pressed it closer to hers.

Wanting to absorb her very essence, to almost devour her, he kissed her face, her eyes, her throat, her shoulders. Sampling, teasing, arousing, he worked his way down along her breasts, her waist, her navel.

His pulse racing, Esteban paused for a moment to regain control over himself. Inadvertently, he saw how her stomach muscles quivered in response to the warmth of his breath as well as to the touch of his tongue as he lightly stroked her with it.

He saw desire flare in her eyes as she arched into him and reached for him, wanting to hold him closer to her, wanting to all but crawl inside the sensations he had stirred within her.

They were within the center of the tornado and he held off the final moments for as long as he could.

Longer, he had the impression, than Kari apparently wanted to withstand.

Grabbing him by the shoulders, she choked out a single word, “Now,” and it sounded for all the world like an order.

He would have laughed if he hadn’t wanted her so much that it filled every single tiny available space within him.

So, rather than try to muster enough breath to offer a flippant retort—or any retort at all—he drew himself up slowly along the length of her body, allowing her to realize just how completely he wanted her.

His body fully positioned over hers, Esteban saw that her eyes were shut.

“Look at me,” he commanded, saying the words so softly, she didn’t seem to hear him at first. Her eyes remained closed, as if she was immersed in a fantasy world all her own.

“Look at me,” he repeated, his voice a little firmer, the words a little louder.

This time, he saw her eyes flutter open with a start, as if she expected something to bring about a crashing end to what they were experiencing together.

“Why?” she asked, her voice low and husky—and surprisingly teasing. “So I can identify you in the lineup later?”

Was she ever not flippant? he found himself wondering. The look in her eyes didn’t belong to the woman who had just uttered that quip, and yet, when Kari spoke, it was as if there was a wall between them. A small one, granted, but it was there nonetheless.

Separating them.

You do the same thing with your silence, a voice inside his head pointed out.

The hell with it, he thought. Now was not the time to wage internal debates or search for the meaning behind gestures or deeds. Now was the time to relish what was right here before him.

Right here before them.

“My eyes are open,” she prompted. “Why does it matter to you if they are or not?”

He didn’t answer her.

Not verbally.

Instead, gathering her closer in his arms, Esteban drove himself into her, wanting, just for a moment, to lose his sense of self and create something entirely different. Wanting to create, however temporarily, a union.

He took pleasure in the ache that was being released, in the feeling of fulfillment springing up all around him. He didn’t want to let those sensations go.

He’d made love with women before, so many that he’d lost count. He’d made love to more beautiful women, even more accommodating women.

But he’d never wanted to make love with a woman as much as he did right at this moment. With this woman.

The ride they went on was brief in the ultimate scheme of things, but while it existed, it raised them up to the very top of the world, allowing them to look down on all that was spread out before them.

The resulting euphoria burst out and encompassed everything, seeping into all corners of life. It seemed to stay suspended in midair for a long, endless moment.

And then, just as with all other things, it began to recede. To shrink into itself and retreat until all traces of it ever having existed faded quietly away.

He lay beside her, unable to examine his thoughts or to assess the myriad of feelings that were bumping up against one another, leaving him in a dazed stupor. The condition was not without its appeal.