Her Last Word(95)

“You’re a cop. You’d turn the tables on me in a heartbeat to solve a case.”

He didn’t respond. “I’d like to think I’d do my job no matter what.”

“Honest. And refreshing.”

He shook his head slowly. “But I’m not sure if I could do my job when it comes to you.”

“Really?”

“I like you. Very much.” His voice sounded rusted and a little unsure.

But no lies. No promises. And that was okay. She rose up on her toes and kissed him. He didn’t touch her. Didn’t move.

“Am I your weakness?” she asked.

No answer. But he didn’t draw away, and those blue eyes sharpened.

Good. She’d take that as a yes.

She kissed him again, this time cupping his shoulder as she pressed her lips against his. His hand came up to her waist.

The rough edges of his touch sent electricity shooting through her body as he moved his fingertips back and forth along her shoulder.

His fingertips moved to her jaw, tracing the sharp line. Her heartbeat kicked up, and breathing evenly became a challenge. When he ran his fingers over her lips, she parted them and gently bit his finger as she teased the tip with her tongue.

He cupped her face, and she leaned into the touch, absorbing his energy. He leaned forward, and tilting his head, pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was tentative, as if he were handling crystal. His lips hovered over hers.

“I won’t break,” she murmured against his lips. To prove it, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a deeper kiss. His hand went to her waist, and his fingertips slid just below the waistband of her jeans. She opened her mouth, allowing him to slide his tongue inside. She leaned into the kiss, pressing her breasts against his chest. Her body pulsed.

His other hand cupped her breast, and his fingertips captured her nipple, pinching gently. When he drew his head up, his eyes were as black as coal. A muscle pulsed in his jaw.

Urgency swept over her. She needed to feel his touch, to feel him moving inside of her.

He dropped his head to her breast and lightly kissed. His other hand slid lower over her moist mound. The twin sensations took her breath away. She was hungry for more.

He sucked the top of her breast and then moved to her nipple. He circled his tongue around the stiff peak. She arched against him.

“Please,” she whispered.

“Please what?” he said.

She ran her hand over the firm, flat muscles of his belly, her fingers inching toward his belt buckle. He captured her hand and held it close to his heart as he kissed her hard. She pulled free, pushed his jacket off his shoulders, and laid it on the sofa. He loosened his tie and pulled it free.

Slowly she unbuttoned his shirt. He took it off and tossed it on the jacket. She gripped the edges of his T-shirt and tugged. He flinched, seemed to hesitate, and then allowed her to lift the shirt up. He watched her face closely as she pulled off the shirt.

She dropped her gaze to the scars that marred his shoulders. She gently traced them with her fingers. He flinched but didn’t pull away as she explored. Instead of being repulsed, she saw a man who had sacrificed to save his friend.

“Do they hurt?” she asked.

“No. Not anymore.”

She felt a pulse of emotion as she leaned forward and kissed the scars. For a moment he didn’t move. Then he ran his fingers through her hair, fisting a handful.

She wanted him. Never before had she wanted anyone like this.

He reached for the hem of her shirt. In a smooth, swift move he tugged it over her head, leaving her naked from the waist up. He looked down at the bandage on her side and skimmed his fingertips over it.

“I barely notice it anymore,” she said.

A smile tipped the edges of his lips as he reached for the snap on her jeans. With the flick of a finger, the snap came loose. He slid the zipper down slowly. “I’ve been wanting to do this since the first night I saw you.”

He slid the pants down over her slim hips until they fell to the floor. Cool air brushed her legs. She stood before him in white cotton panties. He smoothed his hand over her flat belly. Heat smoldered in his gaze. He took her by the hand and led her to the bed.

When she sat and stared up at him, he unzipped his own pants and pushed them to the floor. His erection pulsed, and the look in his gaze sent a tremor of excitement through her body. He turned and reached for his pants. He fished a condom from his wallet.

He tossed the condom on the bed, and she crawled backward until she was settled in the middle. He straddled her and pressed the tip of his erection against the cotton panties, rubbing against her. She grew wet. Slick. And she ached for him to be inside her. He pressed his hand to her center, smiling when he felt her moistness.

He reached for the condom, tore off the package, and slid it over his shaft. Then he reached for the waistband of her panties, and as she raised her hips, he slid them down her legs.

“So nice,” he whispered.

“You’re so hot,” she said.

His gaze darkened, and he spread her legs with his hands. He pushed his finger between the folds and inside her, moving in and out and making her so wet and horny she could barely think. Her blood raced, and her heart slammed against her ribs. She could feel the tempo building inside her, but ached to release.

He sensed her desire and pulled out his finger. “Not yet.”