by Lynne Logan
“Oh, come on baby. I’m really good. Like, the ladies all love me. You’ll come on the first go-around. I’ll guarantee it.”
The man might not be too smart, but he was stubborn. And his ego. If the man’s self-esteem inflated any more, it would detonate. Anger tightened her chest. More than anything, she hated conceit in any form. “I’m not interested.”
Paige should never have gone for one of the cheapest escort services. The man looked and acted as low-end as the price the company offered.
She edged further from the entrance. And Michael. Her stomach not only rebelled at his words but at his cologne, a spicy, musky scent that permeated from him in thick, oppressive waves. She couldn’t stop her nose from twitching in repugnance.
“But I was expecting a good fuck.” He must have caught her look of disgust, because his face darkened and his lip twisted into a sneer. “What’s wrong with you? Can’t take a real man?”
She was really getting tired of this. To hell with politeness. Obviously that wasn’t working. “Not one that smells like he rolled in dirt then sprayed himself with disinfectant.”
“You look all ready to be fucked. I still want to fuck you. You like it in the ass? I’ll fuck you there, too.” He grabbed his crotch, jerked against his hand and said something obscene.
Stunned at his crudeness, Paige blinked. She might not be so experienced with the opposite sex, but she knew a deliberate insult. Nostrils flaring, she straightened her five-foot two inch frame, glared and clutched the edge of the door with rigid fingers. “You can still get off. All you have to do is … go fuck yourself!”
She didn’t wait for a response but slammed the door in his slimy, shocked face. Quickly, she locked the door and deadbolt just in case he decided to retaliate.
The idea of having sex with the man sent her flesh crawling with something close to hives. Yuck. She’d probably catch some disease. Nothing about this Michael exuded tenderness.
Unlike Ryan.
When she heard a car drive off, Paige sank back against the front door, struggling with shock and the sudden anger welling into her chest.
Ryan.
The bastard. He’d lied, taken advantage of her, made her out as a fool.
Why?
All this time she thought him an escort, a man for hire. One who filled her wildest fantasies. And now…
Now she had no clue of his identity.
Frowning, she thought back over the evening. How she’d opened the door in provocative clothing, striped in front of him and asked—no, literally begged him to take her.
Could she blame him? What heterosexual male would say no? She didn’t know many.
She laughed, the sound scornful and hollow within the foyer. She didn’t know any.
Except for her sister, Paige had lived on her own for too long, hidden away behind these four walls, working for a video movie business she’d inherited from her mother. For years now, she’d kept life and the people around her at bay and tried to ignore the loneliness, her silent but constant companion.
Wrapping her arms around her middle, she walked into the living room where hours earlier she’d lost herself in the passion of Ryan’s arms. He’d been tenderness personified. His touch and scent even now still lingered against her skin.
Paige tried to hold onto the anger, but the emotion fell away as memories filled her senses. Ryan’s mouth on her breast, the heat of his breath against her brow, the sure, powerful thrust of his body.
Until tonight, she’d never been foolish. Because of that foolishness, she’d found a pleasure she’d never experienced in her life.
Paige wanted to be foolish again … with Ryan.
“How in the world am I going to find you?” she said in a wash of breath. “More importantly, who are you?”
To hell with the fact Ryan had lied. She craved the ecstasy of being a woman. She’d also lie if it meant sleeping with the man one more time.
Chapter Two
After Ryan grabbed a cold beer from the refrigerator, he twisted off the cap and walked out into the living room. He stared out his front window toward the house across the street. A porch light illuminated the grass lawn and red-tiled, stucco house. Hard to believe that just a couple of hours ago he’d been in that very house and between Paige’s incredibly silky thighs. And those legs. Remembering the way they’d wrapped around his waist with such strength and agility made him hard.
He wiped his beer bottle against his brow, but the chilled perspiration from the glass didn’t do a damn thing to cool his hot skin. Even going to the gym to work out for over an hour after he’d left her house hadn’t done a thing to ease his tension.
He shifted, finding his pants pressing too tight against his growing cock. Never had a woman made him step across the line like Paige. With one seductive look, he’d tossed his common sense, his good judgment and possibly his career into the sewer.
By God, she’d been a virgin, and he’d rutted on her like a damn dog.
He should have kept his pants on and backed out that door the second he felt himself caving into his need. But no. Not him. He’d let his cock completely jeopardize his investigation. Not only that, he’d justified the idea that sleeping with him had to be a hell of a lot better than any sleazy prostitute from Escorts R Us. Not since his wife did a woman make him forget his common sense. At least with Christi, he’d never put himself in a situation where he could lose his job.
Six years they’d been married. Then cancer hit. They’d thought Christi would be able to get through the mastectomy, even the life-draining chemo. After all, miracles happened daily, and the survival rate for breast cancer looked far more promising than the others. The cancer had been too aggressive, too pervasive, though, ravaging her body until she’d died at twenty-eight, decades too soon.
Ryan blinked several times and wiped the back of his hand against his eyes.
Shit.
After two years, he thought he’d gotten past the anger of his wife’s death and the pain she’d suffered those last weeks. Tonight he’d been reminded of what he missed with Christi. Being in Paige’s arms magnified his empty life, the loneliness he continually avoided by immersing himself in work. Paige made him feel like a man again, if only for a couple of hours.
All morning and afternoon, he’d paced the living room while watching her house from across the street. The idea of her having sex with some sleazy, paid escort had turned his stomach, and he’d run over ways to stop her from doing it without giving himself away.
Tonight, his goal had been to go over to her house, somehow intervene and get the male slut off her front porch. She didn’t deserve to have cheap sex with some uncaring stranger.
But the escort never showed up and Ryan’s good intentions had crashed and burned. He’d lost complete self-control and allowed his obsession to grow into a reality.
The phone rang, dragging his attention from the house across the street and the woman inside.
He walked around the black, leather sofa toward the coffee table, both rented and paid for by the Bureau. When he checked caller ID and saw Josh’s name, he swore under his breath. “Yeah?”
“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying your cell phone. I had to dig up this number when I didn’t get an answer.”
Ryan patted his hip. Empty case. No phone. Shit. He must have dropped it somewhere at Paige’s house. “The battery must have died on me.”
“Make sure that doesn’t happen again. You’re on this case for a reason, you know.” A sigh of frustration carried through the line. “So what have you found? Have you uncovered anything on the suspect?”
Oh, yeah, he’d been doing some uncovering, but not in the way his boss meant. He didn’t want to think what would happen if Josh or anyone from work found out. “There’s no way this woman is involved, never mind behind—”
“Have you found proof?”
“No.”
“Then I suggest you do before you make any unwarranted recommendation.
And soon. This is costing us money.”
Ryan expelled a silent breath, rubbed the back of his neck but kept his voice neutral. “I know. You don’t have to mention budget cuts. It’s been drilled into my head for the last couple of months.”
“You’ve got until the end of the week,” Josh ordered before hanging up.
After placing the phone back in its receiver, Ryan walked across the room to look outside again. Light from Paige’s front window didn’t reveal any movement from inside, but he knew she hadn’t left the premises. No phone calls going in or out, according to the equipment setup against the wall.
He needed to get his cell-phone back fast before she started going through his address book. Shit. That’s all he needed. She could screw things up even more than he already had.
Gulping down the rest of his beer, he rolled his shoulders and debated on whether or not to run over there now.
Then her porch light turned off. Moments later, the windows darkened. When he realized she was going to bed for the night, he decided to keep away from her house and the television monitors. He might appear too suspicious if he showed up this late. More importantly, with his body still craving the heat of Paige’s embrace, his self-control resembled a monkey in a banana shop.
Well, at least now he had a reason to get back inside her house and prove Paige couldn’t possibly be involved in piracy. Before, he’d planned on using the excuse of getting her mail in error to obstruct her involvement with the escort and, if the opportunity came up, to get a good look around, but he’d never gotten the chance.
This next time, though, he’d make damn sure he kept his pants on. Yeah, she was gorgeous, with breasts that fit perfectly in his hands, a mouth and tongue that sent him reeling, and a tight, slick pussy that clamped over his shaft until he’d come like he hadn’t for God knew how long. The thought of making love to her again hardened his cock and pulled at his balls.
Ryan took in a shuddering breath.
Damn it.
He didn’t want to keep his pants on. Not when it came to Paige. She’d been so sweet, an innocent until tonight. Too innocent to be involved in a piracy scam that ran across twenty states and eight countries.
But if he decided to lay his hands on her again and the Bureau found out about it, he’d be fired on the spot, no internal investigation, no questions.
He didn’t dare take that chance.
Less than twenty-four hours later, Ryan stood on the front porch of Paige’s house. When she opened the door, Ryan knew he was in trouble. She wore a pair of cut off shorts and a tank top. Shit.
The way the material wrapped around her breasts and hips made Ryan want to entwine himself in the fabric. Anything to touch that silken skin again. And those damn legs. Anyone could get a good eyeful of their lethal length with those shorts. And Ryan, being “anyone” and any normal heterosexual guy, stared. And when he knew he should stop staring, he stared some more.
Memories of the previous night washed over him in one wet, sexual tidal wave of hunger. The heat radiating off the ground and in the air didn’t compare to the heat coursing through his body and tightening his cock.
Hunger.
He cleared his throat and met her large blue, innocent eyes. Maybe not so innocent after what he’d done to her last night and of the crime she was suspected of. But pirating movies? He didn’t want to believe it, and just maybe he’d be able to prove to everyone she was as innocent as she looked. “I forgot my cell phone here last night.”
She blinked, awareness seeping into her gaze. “Your cell phone?”
“Yeah.” He glanced down and noticed how her uplifted breasts tightened.
No bra. He swallowed. The light, pink material revealed the shadow of her nipples. All he had to do was slip a hand beneath her shirt and cup the naked weight of one breast in his palm. The pressure in his cock increased.
Dammit. Focus. Last time he hadn’t even gotten past her living room. He needed to do a hell of a lot better today. Did he want to lose his job?
Hell no.
“Come in.” She backed into the house, a smile curving her generous mouth. “I didn’t see it anywhere. I guess the best place to look would be the living room.”
“Umm, sure.” Ryan followed her into the room where he’d lost his brains along with his pants. This time no candlelight burned, no strawberries or champagne sat on the coffee table. Nothing hinted of the previous night except for the seductive sway of Paige’s hips as she circled the room in search for his cell phone.
“Unless it’s under the sofa.” She eased down on her hands and knees. Her shapely butt pointed in the air and at him while the hem of her shorts rode up over the back of her thighs. He fisted his hands to keep himself from reaching down and touching the tempting skin.
Dammit. He couldn’t take much more.
“Here let me.” He dropped down beside her and peered under the sofa. As she shifted beside him, her scent drifted across his senses. Clean, flowery, almost as if she’d stepped from the shower. Images of her naked body arched for his mouth and hands flashed in his head, while the memory of her soft moans and groans of pleasure caught at his insides.
He squeezed his eyes shut, took in a ragged breath and scraped his fingers against the wood floor as he battled for sanity, for anything but this lust crawling across every nerve ending in his body. Jaw clenched, he peered under the sofa to find a small shape, darker than the other shadows, resting on the floor near the back leg. He flipped onto his back and stretched out an arm across the floor until his fingers gripped metal. Grunting in relief, he pulled his cell from underneath.
“Got it.”
Stuffing the phone inside his back pocket, he twisted on the floor and away from the sofa at the same time Paige turned on her hands and knees. Her breasts brushed his cheek as she turned and sank back on her heels. Their gaze collided—her eyes flared with desire and matched the need he knew was reflected in his. Her mahogany hair shone against the fading sun from the living room window. The dark shade contrasted with the pale, satin sheen of her skin.
Stillness wrapped around the room. His heart thumped inside his ribs, and a wave of need rolled through his body to center in his groin. His zipper pressed against an erection as hard as the floor beneath his back.
“You’re beautiful,” he said on a sigh.
“I’ve never considered myself beautiful until you made love to me last night.” With a trembling hand, she slipped her fingers into the hair at his temple and brushed several strands from his brow. “You make me feel…” She shook her head. A look of fascination washed over her delicate features. “I know this sounds corny. But you make me come alive. Feel like a woman. Be someone that I didn’t know I could be.”
A look and a few words from her and Ryan swore something tightened inside his chest. Paige did the unthinkable. She made him want something more than one night. Not since his wife’s death did a woman twist his insides. “I don’t know how you can look so damn sexy and innocent at the same time.”
When her tongue slipped out to lick the corner of her mouth, Ryan didn’t care. He wanted her. Now. To hell with what was right. His body demanded release, craved those lush lips, pussy and body. But not any body. He wanted this woman. He dragged in a rattling, painful breath and lifted a hand to cup her cheek, urging her toward his mouth.
A light sweep of lips, a soft breath and sigh.
Enough. He didn’t want gentle kisses, tender touches. He wanted it hot, just as hot as last night.
Ryan scrambled up from the floor until his back rested against the sofa, pulling Paige onto his lap. Her bottom pressed against his cock, which magnified the hunger already eating through his body. Sweeping his hands into her hair, he cradled her head as he took her mouth in a long, deep kiss. She met his tongue with her own and grew bolder, nipping at his lower lip and sliding her hands under his shirt.
His body quivered beneath her questing fingers. He loved how her nails lightly raked over his nipples, across hi
s back and traveled over every dimple and curve of his upper body. When she shifted off his lap to get at his pants, he impatiently brushed her hands aside. He needed to get inside her, lose himself in her heat.
Quickly, he snapped open the top button, yanked at the zipper and struggled with getting his underwear and jeans down his hips. His cock sprang loose. Then she cupped his balls with one hand and wrapped her fingers around the base of his shaft. For a brief moment, her passionate gaze meshed with his. Then she lowered her head.
When she flicked her tongue across the tip of his erection, all thought of sliding into her pussy dissolved with the burn of her touch. A growl erupted from his chest, and he sank back against the sofa, dropping his head against the cushion. She lapped at his rigid length, slow, wet strokes while she moaned with pleasure, as if savoring the taste of an ice cream cone on a hot summer day.
For someone with no experience, she sure knew—
“Oh, fuck.”
Paige smiled with delight. She’d sucked the head of his cock into her mouth. She loved everything about his reaction. The way his hands trembled in her hair and on her skin, the way his breath grew rapid and uneven, the way his control snapped from her touch as she licked his rigid length and pulled him into her mouth again and again.
She gasped as he caught her beneath the armpits and yanked her from his crotch. One second longer, and she suspected he might have come in her mouth. That would have been fine, but she selfishly wanted the moment to last much longer.
She sat back on her heels, amazed at the expression in his dilated eyes. Such passion, fire. All for her.
Determination tightened the line of his jaw as he pushed off the floor. He stood and chucked his pants and the rest of his clothes. After quickly doing the same, she swept her gaze over the wide breath of his shoulders, the hard contours of his chest and stomach and lower. The sight of his cock, all hard and ready, sent her pulse leaping into a wild crescendo. The power in that body dried her mouth and turned her legs weak with need.
Paige wanted him inside her, stretching her, jerking in and out of her, pushing so deep into her that they meshed as one.
