Flawless (New York Confidential #1)(45)

There was something going on with her, all right. All he wanted to do was kiss her, hold her, get closer to her....

“Something...” she repeated.

And then, to his astonishment, she let out a little cry—maybe self-disgust?—and moved against him. He didn’t know if he kissed her first or she kissed him, but their lips met as she pressed her hands against his chest.

The kiss deepened and deepened, until at last he broke away. His breath came fast and strong; his voice was harsh as he said, “This is wrong on a thousand levels. You’re a witness, involved on a case I’m actively working.”

But he didn’t move away. He still had her pinned against the wall, leaning toward her, his face a tense mask of anguish.

*

Kieran could still feel the kiss, almost as if his lips continued to touch hers. His body was close enough to hers to send his heat swirling around her like invisible steam. She could see the tension in his muscles.

She knew all she had to do was nod. Say yes. Or say no.

And he would move.

She realized that on some level she had known from the first time they met, even in the middle of what might have been a deadly situation, that she wanted him. The last remaining iota of logic within her screamed that she needed to run.

But everything else screamed that she wanted this moment, this time together, no matter what was to come. The part of her aching to touch him, to feel him touch her, argued that she could handle this. She could handle the truth and the lies...and him.

She knew she was lying to herself, but it didn’t matter; none of it mattered. She reached out and touched his face, marveling at the planes and angles of his jaw. She met his eyes...chips of blue ice, she had once thought them. Now they were like blue fire, and when they touched her, she felt a slow burn inside, one that promised a blaze as strong and sweet as the soul could imagine.

“Wrong,” he murmured.

“Maybe,” she agreed.

But she moved closer to him, slipping her arms around him, pressing her lips to his.

For a moment he fought the urge to return the kiss.

But only for a moment.

And then he took over, his kiss powerful and sure, deliciously wet and deep, and she wondered if she would ever get enough of his mouth. No, she would never be sated....

She would always want more.

As she did now.

Wrong, he’d said.

It couldn’t be.

It felt too right.

He was still kissing her as he shed his jacket, letting it fall to the floor. Still kissing her as he tugged at his tie, tossing it aside. She applied her fingers to the buttons of his shirt just as he reached to undo them himself. Their eyes met, and they smiled, then laughed, and turned their attention to their own clothing. His shirt fell to the floor, and then he paused, reaching to the small of his back for the gun he kept there in a leather holster. She stepped back.

“I’m not a proponent of everyone in the world running around with a gun,” he said. “But in my line of work, it’s a necessary evil.”

She stared at him. “I was just waiting for you to put it down,” she said quietly.

He held it awkwardly for a moment.

“On the bedside table,” she suggested.

“I’m staying?” he asked.

“See me through until morning?”

“I won’t leave you,” he said.

“It wouldn’t be at all professional to leave me in danger,” she told him with a smile, then was immediately sorry she’d said the word, knowing he already felt it was unprofessional for him to be here.

She turned quickly and headed toward her bedroom, letting her blouse drop to the floor as she went. A part of her was afraid he wouldn’t follow.

But he did.

In her room she kicked off her shoes, slipped out of her skirt and wished she’d worn stockings for once instead of panty hose. She sat on the bed so she could peel them off.

She was startled when she found him dropped down to his knees by the bed. His eyes met hers, and he slid the panty hose slowly from her legs. She watched him, feeling her breath catch, her arousal rise. He was shirtless, and now she had time to revel in him. He was everything she’d imagined, broad in the shoulders and chest, all lean muscle, perfect in every detail. His lips dropped to her kneecap, and she trembled in surprise. He looked at her again, then pushed her back on the bed, kissed her knees and her thighs up to her bikini panties, then teased there, too, tasting her through the silk before removing them and rising to strip off the last of his own clothing.

She shuddered wildly in his arms, certain she’d never been so aroused in her life. He kissed her lips, and she felt the pressure of his erection against her flesh. She ached to feel him inside her and wrapped her legs around him, arching to meet his thrust as he entered her. She wasn’t very experienced, didn’t fall easily into intimacy, but she was certain it would be impossible to find a better lover. He began to move, slowly at first, each movement awakening a wilder urge inside her...throughout her. In moments she felt as if there was nothing more important in the world than what was happening between them, nothing that could be more sensually explosive than the feel of him inside her.

She felt as if she were riding a wickedly sweet roller coaster, rising to peak after peak, everything simultaneously real and surreal. She was overwhelmingly aware of the scent of him, the feel of his naked flesh, the heat that burned between them. Suddenly she climaxed more wildly than she had ever imagined possible. She felt him shudder violently, and then he held her for a long moment before he fell to the mattress beside her, arms around her still. No matter what was to come, she thought, she would never regret the night.