Undercover Lover

by Kylie Brant

  Her hips twisted against his touch, and his name was a strangled cry on her lips. The sound of it filled a void he hadn’t known he had, fed a fire that was burning out of control. When her body would have relaxed against him, the rush of fulfillment weakening her limbs, he slid a finger inside her and shuddered as her inner contractions worked against it. She moaned again, and twisted against his touch, pressing rhythmically against him. He pushed the silky garment up over her hips, pulled the other strap down her arm, so the pink froth of fabric caught below her breasts. Then he dragged her chest against his, closing his eyes at the exquisite sensation.

  “Sully,” she moaned against his mouth, her fingers clutching, tight and frantic on his shoulders. “More.”

  The word was a demand, a plea, and he could no more deny her than he could himself. He released her, wringing a frustrated whimper from her lips, and undid his jeans. Her hands went to help, and her eager touch made him groan out loud. He shimmied the jeans over his hips, down his legs, then stopped her before she could dispense with them altogether. He fumbled with the contents of his pocket and drew out the packet of protection. It was almost rendered unnecessary when she made a soft sound of discovery and wrapped tender, curious fingers around him.

  He endured the sweet torment for only seconds. Already he could feel the tightness coiling, the red mist swimming before his eyes. It couldn’t be over. Not yet. He finally understood how a man could need a woman until she was a keen-edged addiction, a fire in the blood. As the greed welled inside him, he moved her hands away and finished the ritual, then reached for her again. His mouth on hers was just short of savage, as all his hunger sprang forth from where it had been tightly leashed.

  Her breath came in low whimpers. His own felt like it was burning in his chest. He’d never known a need could be so fierce, the desire to give and take so brutally keen. He leaned his back against the footrest of the recliner, then arranged her thighs to straddle his hips. Her eyelids fluttered open, her confusion at the position obvious.

  With an arm around her hips he lifted her, and guided his shaft into her wet heat. Every muscle clenched when he heard her cry out, felt her delicate inner adjustments to his invasion. With great heaving breaths, he dragged his eyes open and focused on her. Every flicker of reaction showed on her face, every flash of emotion. She was moving against him, and with his hands on her hips, he held her steady as he thrust hard up inside her.

  Her ragged cry mingled with his harsh groan. Her eyes flew open, glazed and huge, to lock with his. Her lips trembled as she tried to speak, but there was only another shuddering moan. His world narrowed until she was the only point in it. She was all he could see, all he could feel. His hips pistoned steadily against her, and the flush of arousal hued her chest, her throat. She twined her arms more tightly around his neck, and the sound of his name trembling on her lips drew him closer to the peak.

  “Let go, baby,” he urged, his voice harsh and ragged. “Just let go. Ellie.” Her name was a prayer on his lips. “Sweet Ellie.”

  He pressed her hips firmly against him and drove upward hard, deep, and she screamed his name. There was primitive pleasure in the bite of her nails on his shoulders, of her body straining, shuddering against his. He watched the climax contort her features, felt the frantic contractions of her lower body, and something burst inside him. His hips pumped against hers with ferocious demand as he allowed himself to follow her, hurtling headlong into pleasure.

  Chapter 6

  It was the humidity in the air that finally awakened her. Elizabeth twisted on the bed, her eyes fluttering open at the sense of discomfort. She lay still for a moment, gauging her surroundings groggily. Her air conditioner wasn’t powerful enough to push any cool air into her bedroom, and the ceiling fan did little more than circulate the humidity.

  She pushed her tousled hair back, pausing for a moment as her fingers rediscovered the new length. When she disentangled herself from the bedsheet, her eyes came fully open. She was naked.

  The discovery brought her completely awake, her memory restored. Her gaze swept the room, though she’d already sensed it was empty. There was no sign of Sully.

  She went to the closet and took out a short-sleeved, thigh-length robe and slipped it on, tying it quickly. She went out and looked in the kitchen, the living room, but she was alone in the apartment.

  Releasing a breath she hadn’t been aware of holding, she leaned weakly against the wall. Sully. Her mind grappled with the memories of last night. The mental images were enough to suffuse her with a heat that owed nothing to the temperature.

  The emotions swirled and eddied within her, each one receding to be replaced with the next. Embarrassment, shock and secret, sweet slivers of delight accompanied each mental fragment. She’d acted completely out of character. Her senses had been altered, but not by the alcohol. They’d been altered by Sully himself.

  Her eyes slid shut, seeing again that flash of hunger on his face, so sharp and keen it had pierced her, as well. For that one second, just for an instant, she’d caught sight of a mingled pain and pleasure so intense it had taken her breath away. And though their first kiss had been steeped in grat itude and friendship, the second one had been so much more.

  She drew in a deep, shaky breath. As unusual as her actions had been last night, there was no regret mingling in the welter of her emotions. Maybe there was something more compelling than the sight of a man, her best friend, looking like he’d die for the chance to touch her, but she couldn’t imagine it. It had been enthralling, tempting and so sexy that even the memory had the power to send fresh shivers of pleasure through her.

  Her eyes opened, and her head tipped back to rest against the wall. She could be dishonest with herself and pretend that last night had resulted from a combination of too much champagne on an empty stomach and the effects of receiving the divorce papers. But she’d promised herself long ago not to fall into the trap of self-delusion ever again. Last night had happened because she’d wanted it to. And, perhaps even more amazing, because Sully had wanted her.

  Touching him had been an incredible opportunity to run her hands over that broad torso and freely examine the jut of bone and sinewy muscle. His skin had burned beneath her fingertips, seeming to come to life in her hands the same way the clay formed and shaped to her touch.

  There had been none of the props Carter had always used to orchestrate their lovemaking, no candles or soft music. Just need, edgy and fierce, which had passed from Sully to her, and back again. She’d never before experienced a touch so urgent it hinted at roughness, from a man visibly fighting at control. Although she could feel her face wash hotly at the memory, she’d taken a great deal of pleasure tempting Sully to give up that control, and had reveled with him in its loss.

  Her arms slipped around her waist and hugged tight. If she tried hard enough, she could almost feel the hard clasp of Sully’s arms. Which was silly, of course, because Sully was gone.

  Why had he left, she wondered, and what did his absence mean? It had only been a few short hours ago that he’d last reached for her, tucking her beneath that hard, muscled body and sliding deep within her again.

  She brushed her hair back from her face with a shaking hand, remembering easily the renewed rush of desire, the racking pleasure. Each time he’d been above her, she’d felt surrounded by his size and strength, yet curiously protected. But at the end it had been her arms sheltering him, his harsh groans sounding in her ear, her hands soothing his shaking body. There was no shame in the memories of last night, only quicksilver darts of delight. With the exception of her mother, Sully knew her better than any other person in the world. Last night had brought them closer than mere friends, and there could be no turning back.

  A splinter of unease stabbed her then. It was Saturday, so neither of them had to worry about work, but he could have had an errand to run. It was possible that he had slipped from her bed and gone home to shower and change, but the longer she thought about it, the mo
re troubled she grew.

  What if he hadn’t left because he had to, but because he wanted to?

  Her teeth worried her bottom lip. Sully was unpredictable in any circumstances. She couldn’t guess how he would feel about this change in their relationship. She may not have recognized just what it was Sully felt for her until she’d surprised it on his face last night, but she’d been troubled enough in recent weeks with similar thoughts of him to realize that their relationship had been headed into uncharted territory.

  The unease intensified, and a frown formed between her brows. Every bit of intuition she had told her that it hadn’t been need that had driven Sully from her bed while she lay sleeping. What it was, she was very much afraid, had been guilt.

  Her eyes slid closed, and she let her head lightly bang against the wall. Although she had no regrets about last night, she could well imagine that Sully would have. He was too entrenched in his imagined role as her protector not to feel like he’d relinquished the role by making love to her. He’d use that guilt as a buttress between them, and he was a master at constructing near impenetrable fortresses around his emotions. He’d pull away from her.

  The thought of losing Sully’s friendship sent sheets of ice over her skin. Bereft. That’s what she’d be without him in her life. Although he kept large portions of himself strictly walled off from the world, she’d lay odds that she was closer to him than he’d ever allowed anyone else to be.

  Determination stiffened her spine. She wasn’t going to let him drift away from her, and she wouldn’t allow last night to affect their friendship. If it had been the lovemaking that had scared him away, then she’d ruthlessly cull that aspect from their friendship. She ignored the sharp pang at the thought. No matter how satisfying, how magical last night had been for her, she was mature enough to realize it might not have meant the same for him. And it wasn’t worth pursuing if it was going to cost her the one thing she valued above all else. Sully’s friendship.

  Her plan of action decided, she pushed away from the wall to head for the shower. She was going to find Sully and force him to talk about his feelings. And it would be tough going, because getting him to talk at all was a chore. But they’d have this out, one way or another, because they had too much to lose otherwise.

  Elizabeth was halfway to the bathroom when she heard a sound in the hallway outside her apartment. She reversed course immediately. If it was Sully out there, she wanted to catch him before he could leave. Or before he could hole up in his apartment.

  She pulled the door open and stepped through it, almost colliding with the man poised in front of it. Her head tipped back, her eyes widened and her mind went abruptly blank.

  “Carter,” she said faintly.

  Carter Robinson, Dade County’s most promising young prosecutor, smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from his discreetly pin-striped suit and gave her a grave smile.

  “Hello, Beth.”

  Faint annoyance rose at his use of that nickname. She’d never cared for it. On the heels of that thought came another. A suit? On a Saturday, in Miami, in July? Only Carter would dress for court to visit his wife.

  His ex-wife.

  “I’m sure you’re surprised to see me here.” One hand slipped halfway into his pocket, the movement too studied to be casual. He was the picture of a rapidly rising young professional. Where was a photographer for GQ when you needed one? she thought cynically. Her gaze slid beyond his shoulder to the door of the corner apartment. She wondered if Sully was behind that door, and she wondered what he was feeling. Was he remembering last night? Was he wishing it had never happened? Or that it would happen again?

  “I’m sorry for coming by unannounced, but I’m on my way home from a breakfast appointment, and it was imperative that I speak to you.”

  Elizabeth’s gaze jerked away from Sully’s door and fastened on Carter’s face. It took a moment longer for her concentration to shift, as well. “I’m sorry, Carter,” she said politely. “But I was on my way out.”

  His brow arched. “Before you’ve dressed?”

  Her gaze fell to her attire, and she felt a flush blooming. Self-consciously she tightened the sash on her robe. “I meant I was just getting ready to go out.”

  “Surely you can spare a few moments, Beth,” he said persuasively. “I can guarantee you, this is important. For both of us.”

  With one final glance at Sully’s door, Elizabeth reluctantly stepped back and allowed Carter to precede her into the apartment. Once the door was closed, she felt a measure of impatience creep in. How long would it take to get rid of the man? Long enough to hear him out, she imagined, to discover whatever it was he wanted.

  And he did want something, or he wouldn’t be here, wouldn’t be calling her “Beth” in that ingratiating tone he used when he needed something from her. That was probably why she’d grown to detest the name. He’d preferred to call her “Elizabeth”; it was more dignified, she imagined, more befitting the wife of a proper young attorney. He’d only shortened the name when he was trying to persuade her that something he was intent on doing was in her best interests. The ploy had worked for a time, a long time, she acknowledged wryly, and once she’d begun to see through it she had gotten a little more stubborn. In the face of her resistance, his manner had always changed quickly enough, first to lecturing, then to cool and remote in the blink of an eye.

  He’d seated himself on the love seat, and was surveying her apartment with faint distaste. The sight was enough to evaporate the trace of uneasiness she felt at standing before him half-dressed. She banished the half-formed idea of excusing herself and going in for a quick change. This was her home, hers, darn it, and she wasn’t going to let him make her feel uncomfortable. He was the intruder here, and the sooner she heard him out, the sooner he’d be gone.

  And when he was gone, she could get back to her own life. To Sully.

  “My God, Beth, I had no idea.”

  She perched on the edge of the recliner, being careful to keep the robe covering as much skin as possible. The edge of pity tinging Carter’s voice set her blood simmering. Still her voice was politely inquiring when she asked, “Had no idea of what, Carter?”

  He gestured to her apartment. “The manner in which you’ve been relegated to living, the depths to which you’ve had to sink....”

  Something about the set of her head, the raise of her brows must have warned him, for he dropped his hand and concluded, “Well, I blame myself.”

  “Do you?”

  He nodded his dark head soberly. “Of course. I should have checked up on you after you stormed out of our home that way. Instead of listening to your idiot lawyer blather about keeping my distance, I should have made sure you had the means to live comfortably. It never occurred to me that your wounded pride would stand in the way of asking me for the money you so obviously needed.”

  Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth silently counted to ten. He blamed himself that she’d chosen to live in what he would consider squalor, but there was no acceptance of blame for what had driven her from their home, their marriage, in the first place. What kind of man would feel so horrified by her small but clean apartment, but feel no compunction about betraying his marriage vows?

  Immediately the answer came to her. One who was no kind of man at all. One whose word meant nothing, to whom promises were as insubstantial as cotton candy. A man to whom wealth, power and their accumulation reigned supreme, to whom people existed merely as a means to an end. A man she was fervently glad to be free of.

  “You’re mistaking pride for confidence,” she said tartly. “This place meets my needs. I didn’t ask anything from you because I didn’t want it. I still don’t.”

  Her words didn’t alter the expression on his face, and Elizabeth set her teeth. “You’ve cut your hair.”

  His tone was almost accusatory, and her hand went to the shorter length automatically. “I’m hoping it will be cooler.”

  “I prefer it long.”

  She s
hot him a disbelieving look. “Carter, what possible difference could your preferences make to me?”

  He had the grace to look discomfited, and quickly changed the subject. “So tell me what you’ve been doing. You acquired a lawyer, and moved forward with divorce proceedings so quickly. I never had a real opportunity to discuss your plans with you.”

  Shaking her head in bemusement, she looked at the man she’d once loved. Married. Lived with. No doubt he’d managed to convince himself of the truth of whatever story he’d concocted for his friends and colleagues about the end of their marriage. A story that would render him some heartfelt sympathy and cast her in the guise of a troubled young wife who hadn’t known her own mind. But it didn’t really matter. Nothing about Carter Robinson mattered to her anymore.

  The impatience was back; she wanted him gone so she could get back to the man who did matter to her. In ways she’d never imagined. “Why don’t we just skip to the part where you tell me why you’re here?” she suggested. “It would save us both some time. As I said earlier, I need to go out.”

  Annoyance crossed his finely boned features. “Can’t we be civilized about this, Elizabeth? I wouldn’t mind discussing this over coffee, if you have it.”

  “Sorry, Carter,” she lied, “but I don’t. I haven’t gotten to the store lately.”

  He fixed a gaze on her then, one she returned steadily. Smoothing his hands over the creases in his trousers, he settled more comfortably against the cushions of the love seat. “Very well. The truth is, our split couldn’t have happened at a worse time.”

  “I didn’t know there were opportune times for discovering a husband’s unfaithfulness,” Elizabeth responded with mock politeness.