“Then let’s take this to your bedroom.”
Okay then. Her arousal simmered, breasts aching for his touch, her apex wet and wanting. She willingly accompanied Matthew to her bedroom, the new sheets and comforter adorning her bed. If planning ahead for this night made her wanton, too bad. Heather Graham was going to enjoy every minute with Matthew Bourke.
She shivered under his touch as he quickly removed her dress, his hand casually tossing the garment in the general direction of the bench at the foot of her bed, never taking his eyes from her. He was clearly pleased with her underwear, tracing the lace with a long forefinger. She set her teeth to contain the whimper his touch elicited.
“You’re beautiful.” His voice was sincere and full of admiration.
Reaching out to the buttons on his shirt, somehow her trembling fingers managed to push each round piece of plastic through its corresponding hole until the fabric separated into two halves to reveal a nicely muscled chest, perfectly accented with silky chest hair, a lighter trail lovingly following the ridge of his belly to disappear behind his belt. She felt faint. She wanted to set her lips right there, right above his belt buckle and follow that trail. Lord. She allowed her fingers to drift across Matthew’s skin and he hissed at her touch.
“Trying for control here, Heather.” He cupped her left breast through the silk of her bra, gently plucking the nipple, that tender nub budding harder at his touch. He paid the same attention to her other breast, then popped the front closure on the bra to allow her swelling mounds to fall free. As far as small breasts could fall.
All self-deprecation ceased at the heated look on his face, followed by the way his hands closed over her, reverently lifting and molding her tender flesh. He stepped into her, his weight pressing her down onto the mattress. His mouth descended, suckling at her breasts, tugging at her nipples, and Heather let the whimpers escape. It felt freaking amazing. Sparkles of sensation drew her skin up in goose bumps. She worked her fingers through his hair, holding him to her, arching into the contact. More.
After an eternity of delight worshipping at her breasts, Matthew kissed his way down her body, easing his weight off the bed to kneel. Hot breath drifted over her thighs and she arched to him, involuntarily. He placed a soft kiss on her mound before standing, looming large and tall above her, and Heather revelled in the dichotomy, the difference in their size. Feminine, masculine. She ached for him.
“I can’t wait any longer, honey.” Matthew dispensed with his pants, shoving his boxers down with them, his belt jingling against his determined efforts. His shaft sprang up toward his belly, thick and hard. For her. Heather’s hand lifted in a silent plea.
“No, honey. Or I won’t get inside you before I lose my mind.”
Well, okay then. She squirmed up toward the headboard, her hair pulling from its restraint to flow about her shoulders, until she could lay her head on the pillow. Matthew watched her avidly as he sheathed himself in latex, his hands shaking before her fascinated gaze. He knee walked to her, gently pushing her legs apart to crouch between them. Inserting a finger in the waistband of her panties he traced a pattern across her hips, right to left, before grasping the material to pull it down over her thighs. Heather lifted her bottom to facilitate matters and Matthew bent one of her legs, then the other, to slip the underwear from her body.
Eyes now the color of dark, molten chocolate, breath clearly sawing in and out his chest, mirroring her own choking breaths, he slipped a finger between her legs. Heather wondered if she should feel embarrassed by what was so obviously displayed, but felt no such thing. Nothing felt uncomfortable or awkward with Matthew. His touch made her want to beg for more. She’d fallen in love with him and trusted him implicitly. Heather forced herself to concentrate on the present so as not to consider the heartbreak of the future.
“You’re ready for me, honey.”
Heather was grateful for his concern, but couldn’t wait, didn’t want to think. “Please, Matthew.”
Giving her a tender smile, lowering his body over hers, his hardness pushed against her sex. Heather flinched a little at the intrusion, but Matthew slipped in deeper, gradually, allowing her to adjust until he was fitted deep within her body. She sighed and wrapped her arms around him, assimilating the play of the long muscles in his back. He slid one hand beneath the nape of her neck, the other under her waist, fingers splaying over her spine. Her breasts crushed against his hard chest. Perfect.
Flexing his hips, he began to move, thrusts filling her then making her body long for him as he withdrew, only to return in agonizingly slow strokes. She rocked her pelvis to meet him and his lips somehow found hers, their collective breath mingling, tongues tangling. The tempo of their joining increased and Heather reached for her release, just beyond her grasp. Matthew shifted and touched something deep within to push her over, working harder above her. She fell away, replete, and he groaned against her throat, shuddering as he orgasmed. She thought she said it under her breath, but it didn’t matter. She had to say it, because it was true. She told Matthew she loved him.
Pressing a kiss on her temple, Matthew eased his weight to the side, slipping from her. He collapsed on the mattress, his arm looping over her belly to maintain their sweet contact. He didn’t respond verbally to her admission, but that was okay. Maybe he was more of a show than tell kind of guy. In any event, she wouldn’t take it back because it was true. Heather managed a smile, a faint upturn of her lips before drifting into sleep.
* * * *
Carefully lifting his arm from Heather’s cooling belly Manny rolled from her bed to his feet. He went into the bathroom to wash up, avoiding the reflection of his eyes in the mirror. He should have waited. The investigation was nearly complete. Grayson was strained to the limit, going to make a big play. Manny could feel it. All the pieces were in place but one. He didn’t know the asshole’s next move but could guess. Manny was going to pretend to leave for head office for several days, giving Grayson the impression of no one looking over his shoulder, but the program he arranged to be inserted into the man’s computer would be silently monitoring his every move.
Manny actually had to make a flying trip back east tomorrow to brief his boss. He damned the man’s insistence on face-to-face contact, but would be back on the red eye the day after to confer with Bryce and the cop to plan their take down, before Grayson bolted with the big bucks. That meant avoiding Heather until Thursday, a gut-tightening loss.
Again Manny silently castigated himself. He should have waited before consummating his connection with Heather. He had developed deep, worrisome feelings for the little woman. All of their dinner dates and times spent making out on her couch had given him a balanced perspective. He knew Heather was an only child, and that her mom wasn’t well, residing in an assisted living facility. He knew how much she loved her father and how she missed him. They liked many of the same things, from movies to, hallelujah, sports. The fact Heather was a vegetarian only increased her allure because she was so earnest in her choice yet respectful of Manny’s. He uncovered Heather’s irreverent spirit, her caring and loving personality, her fierce loyalty and sensed she was on the verge of a life change. He so longed to be included in that change, a fact that both unnerved and excited him.
Heather’s lovely little body fit perfectly in Manny’s arms. Her kisses tasted sweet and passionate. Keeping his hands to himself, aside from some almost involuntary groping, something he remembered ruefully from his adolescent days, strongly tested his resolve. Heather stole his control and he’d fantasized about making love to her, learning every inch of her. But he should have waited. The whole situation would have shaken down by next Monday in all likelihood, and when Heather found out about his subterfuge…well, at least he could have played the gentleman card. That he hadn’t taken her to bed. He should have waited just nine more days.
But now that he’d seduced her, Heather’s total willingness aside, he would have to work fast and furious to convince her of his true
feelings, convince Heather his involvement with her was separate from the investigation. Tonight had been special, actually more than special. The sex, coupled with his intense feelings for Heather, was sublime. He felt his lips twist derisively. He needed to be totally honest with himself. Tonight wasn’t over, and there was also the morning to look forward to. In for a penny, in for a pound, because Heather might never speak to him again once she found out who he really was. Manny was enough of a man to be selfish. Now that he was in Heather’s bed, he was going to take full advantage.
Feeling himself stir in arousal at his thoughts, he headed back to the bedroom. Hopefully Heather’s impromptu nap had renewed her energy because Manny needed her again. He tried to tell himself her shy admission of love was made in the aftereffects of amazing sex.
Chapter Four
Manny Baker aka Matthew Bourke rested his head in the cradle of his hands, then scrubbed them over his face. Slumping back in the chair, he dropped his forearms to rest them on the desk at the police station. The chair creaked in protest and he winced at the high-pitched sound. His nerves were on edge and not because he was almost at the end of the case. He had all the information he needed to support the other hard facts, although it had taken some digging, most all the time he spent in the fishbowl paying off. Grayson perpetuated one of the most skilful frauds in insurance history Manny was aware of, and might have gotten away with it if he hadn’t murdered his personal assistant.
“You want coffee?” Bryce’s deep voice had him looking. The other investigator held two cardboard cups of java, and he offered one to Manny.
He took it gratefully. He pried the top off, and inhaled the scent of a dark roast. Not station house swill. He sipped cautiously and the brew broke over his taste buds. The caffeine would boost his energy level for discussing the next step. Heather. He’d screwed up there, big time, and she’d take far more work and finesse than the investigation if he was to fix things with her.
“Thanks, Bryce. When do we move?” He’d flown back east Sunday, returning here Tuesday morning after meeting with the bosses at head office all day Monday. It was now Wednesday and he felt as though he’d lost a few hours in between. And being in the same city as Heather and not being able to see her was really unpleasant.
“The forensic accountants arrive tomorrow, so we need to have their brief ready in order to go in Friday morning, early. We’ll put the building into lockdown and everyone in the department will be interviewed and released or held, depending on their stories. Nobody in, nobody out. You’ll need to go back in tomorrow as planned to ensure Grayson doesn’t get a hint about what’s coming down. If you don’t show up he’ll wonder.”
Another voice cut in. “Don’t forget there’s a murder charge in there, Olsen.”
Manny gave the detective his eyes and answered for his partner. “Not likely, McAllister. That’s what alerted us in the first place. We’re working as a team here.”
“Sorry. It’s just money talks, and that young woman didn’t ask for nothing like this to happen.”
“Her death won’t be forgotten,” Manny repeated. “Grayson and whoever he hired to kill her will pay. We’ll clean up the company as a bonus.”
The three men sat, lost in thought until Bryce spoke up. “You gonna interview Heather or let me do it?”
McAllister’s eyes cut between them. “Who’s Heather?”
Manny cursed inwardly as Bryce shot him an apologetic glance. They were all tired and not thinking clearly.
“She’s Grayson’s secretary. I thought I’d get to know her in case she knew anything.”
“And?”
Manny didn’t care for McAllister’s tone but was careful not to show it. No sense in fuelling the fire. “As far as I can tell she doesn’t know a thing. She even talked about Meredith Fox’s death with real regret. But Bryce will interview her, not me.”
“Be a conflict of interest, man?” McAllister gave a coarse laugh. “Got to know her real well in the line of duty, did ya?”
He managed not to clench his fists or smash one into the cop’s face. He hadn’t even told Bryce about spending all of Saturday night with Heather. His partner thought they were going out to dinner often and Heather was keeping Manny up to date with Grayson’s routine. Manny knew how it would look. He knew how Heather would see it. If she hadn’t fallen for him, read more into the relationship than he’d meant to offer, only her pride would have been hurt and the ensuing rage would move her past it. And maybe he could have coaxed her to see he had a job to do, an important job, and beg her to give him another chance. A chance to play that gentleman card.
But he’d had to go seduce her, hadn’t kept his libido under control. It wasn’t enough to date her and tease information about Grayson out of her, not that she knew much. Nope, he hadn’t been able to resist her lovely face and nice little body, so he seduced her in the line of duty. Duty should be so sweet. He tried, in the cold light of day, not to attach too much importance to that night, or any of the many before it either, carnal or no.
Connecting with Heather was part of the job. Taking her to bed was not. And he’d made love to her. He wouldn’t cheapen what they’d done by calling it sex, trying to distance himself. He acknowledged his feelings for Heather mirrored hers for him and it didn’t make it any easier. The betrayal Heather would experience, especially since she’d shared her body with him, would be so profound Manny couldn’t allow himself to think about it.
He still had the investigation to complete. He would stick to his plan to connect with Heather again tomorrow and not before. That avoidance didn’t include sending the occasional text, and a bouquet of roses, anything to lay the groundwork for a grovelling, abject apology looming in the future. Not that he had high hopes Heather would forgive him.
“Nothing to add, Baker? This Heather special?” McAllister just wouldn’t give it up.
“Shut it, Detective.” Bryce’s tone might have frozen spa waters solid.
The cop jerked his attention to Bryce. He regarded him speculatively while Manny brought himself under control.
“We have just over a day to check and double check our facts and figures, put that plan in place. There’s a veritable army to brief and organize. Let it go.” Bryce spoke inexorably and McAllister’s demeanor relaxed. His professionalism clearly asserted itself.
“Done. But Baker stays clear of that woman and if she’s involved, she goes down, too. No deals. I don’t roll that way.” McAllister’s eyes glowed with purpose.
Manny watched Bryce nod. “We won’t interfere with your investigation.”
The cop appeared to be satisfied and sat to join them. The next few hours passed amicably as they strategized once more, ensuring those individuals necessary to perpetrate a raid, a forensic accounting and mass interviews were available, not to mention those who would lock any interference or danger down.
* * * *
Heather daydreamed, forgetting she was in a police station with Moesha, waiting in line to report someone vandalizing her friend’s car. Her every waking thought was consumed with Matthew, making it incredibly difficult to concentrate on anything. Her heart tried to break free from the prison of her chest and fly after his plane early Sunday afternoon, her face pressed to the departure lounge window, straining for a last glimpse as the jet took flight. It clawed its way into the sky and receded from view with breathtaking speed. She realized then she had a long wait until Thursday and hugged her memories close for solace. She missed him acutely, but the time had somehow passed, eased by texts from Matthew and a stunning bouquet of soft shell-pink roses sent to her home on Monday. And he’d be back tomorrow.
Their night and morning together held the starring role in her head, but there was more to it than the physicality. Heather liked who Matthew was, from his acerbic wit to his quick mind. She adored the way he treated waitstaff, with such courtesy, his manner with everyone, attentive and tolerant. Matthew had a big family, three brothers and two sisters, both parents wer
e still alive, and she lived the family life vicariously when Matthew shared his memories.
No man had listened to her, hung on her every word, wanting to know about her personal life, her job, her boss, her friends, everything about her. Until Matthew. And then there was the sex. Heather planned to have sex with Matthew at every opportunity and on every available surface, horizontal or vertical. She was in love and the lust mingling with her intense emotional commitment overwhelmed her at times. He unlocked her sensuality and there was no putting it back. He’d been patient with her over the previous weeks, respecting her boundaries, getting to know her, and she’d come to know him. He was a smart, confident, competent man. And a number of other adjectives she’d apply another time, because she was getting hot again, thinking about all his attributes and qualities. And something he’d said, when he kissed her good-bye at the gate, gave her hope. His comment spoke to the future, beyond Matthew’s short-lived time here, his current job.
“I’ll see you Thursday, honey. And we need to talk, soon, about us. This thing we have is different.”
Heather dared to believe they were on the same page, her and Matthew, that this was a relationship. And love surmounted all obstacles, right? Distance, work, everything.
“Goddamn it! Will you look at all those people? How’m I supposed to file a complaint and get back to work on time? Did everybody take their lunch hour to do their police business? Are Wednesdays significant somehow?”
Moesha’s outburst yanked Heather right from a vision of white lace and red roses. She figured Moesha’s questions were rhetorical and kept quiet. There might’ve been a time when the police came out to take a statement about your property being vandalized, but now you went to them and took a number. She supposed it made sense. They had bigger fish to fry.
Be Your Everything [All for Love] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 4
