“Let’s get you out of here.” His voice was gruff when he released her. “I’ve got some blankets in the car.”
Dalton stared at the pair of them, satisfaction stamped on his face.
Brock sighed. Cat’s stepson added another twist to a situation already far too complicated.
“I’ll lead the way,” the boy said cheerfully and disappeared down the steep staircase.
“You’re freezing.” Brock ran his hands up and down Cat’s arms. “You should have huddled together for warmth.”
“I didn’t think it was a good idea. He’s a teenage boy just discovering girls. We’re not related by blood, and we’ve only known each other two years. It would have been awkward.”
“I see.” He nodded his understanding. “You need a hot bath. Is there a tub in your hotel room?”
“Yes,” Cat said, and promptly sneezed.
Brock searched his pockets until he found a clean tissue. He handed it to her before guiding her down through the trap door.
“We’ll pass by the campus first,” he said when they reached his car.
“Why didn’t the alarm go off?” Dalton asked.
“Some jerks cut a wire this morning, trying to cheat.” Brock assisted Cat up to the front seat. “I’d have posted a guard outside, but I didn’t expect anyone to be crazy enough to try the climb at night. It’s usually done at dawn.”
“Cat’s a good climber, and I’m not bad myself.” Dalton settled in the back and craned his neck to inspect the car. “Cool wheels, sheriff.”
“What about my rental car?” Cat asked as soon as Brock had settled in the driver’s seat. “It’s due back by ten in the morning.”
“I’ll get it picked up.”
“What about my flight? It’s at eleven.”
He glanced over. “You can try to claim from your travel insurance, but I expect getting arrested isn’t a valid reason for missing the flight.”
“Are you arresting us? Do we have to do another forty hours of community service?”
The hopeful lilt in her voice curled around his heart. “No,” he said. “That’s for first time offenders. Repeat offenders get eighty hours.”
****
Brock led Cat through the lobby to the elevator. The reception area was empty, but the lack of audience didn’t ease his terse mood. He didn’t give a damn if he was seen on his way up to her room. His life was turning upside down, the needs that he had tried to shut away were breaking free, and he no longer cared to fight back.
“Thank you.” Cat paused outside her door. “I’ll be fine from here.”
“The hell you will.” He took the plastic keycard from her and inserted it in the lock. “You clearly need a keeper.”
“Wait.” Her hand touched his, and the feel of her smooth skin against his deepened the turmoil inside him. “You’ve taken off your wedding band.” With one fingertip, she traced the pale line at the base of his finger. “Why?”
Brock pushed the door open and waved her through. “It was time,” he replied. “I’m closing the door on the past.” Suddenly uncertain, he paused. “Right now, I feel that I’m on the threshold of the future, and it’s up to you to invite me to take the next step.”
For one interminable second, he waited while Cat stood still, a look of worry drifting across her face. Then a hesitant smile curved her mouth and she beckoned him to enter. Moving with her usual grace, she went deeper into the room, but the nervous flutter of her hands as she adjusted the heating controls betrayed her agitation.
The years of abstinence inside Brock twisted and snapped, and he knew that he couldn’t handle small talk. Not now, not tonight. His ears rang with the pulsing of his blood as his body signaled its demands.
Mindless abandon. That’s what Cat had told him she craved.
That’s what he wanted too.
“I’ll start the bath running,” he told her. “Take your clothes off.”
She stared at him, surprise etched on her features. In silence, she continued to the foot of the bed and began to undress. Her movements were quick, simple, not designed to seduce or titillate, and he knew that she had sensed his mood, had understood they were beyond playing games.
He turned away and strode into the bathroom. The feminine clutter on the vanity stoked the desire already rising swift and hard inside him. He set the tub to fill with hot water, found a miniature bottle of bath foam and poured the contents into the current. Steam curled in the air, clouding the mirror.
Brock waited, but Cat didn’t follow him inside. He tested the water, added enough cold to prevent scalding, and went to find her.
She stood completely bare, arms down her sides, not making any effort to shield her body from his gaze. Eyes shining with excitement, she contemplated him as he closed the distance between them. When he swung her into his arms, she gave a playful squeal of protest.
The happy sound snapped the last of his restraints. His heart hammered in his chest. New emotions burst free inside him. Brock didn’t pause to analyze them. There would be time later on. Now he just wanted to take her, possess her.
Turning his shoulders, he eased her into the bathroom, then stood by the tub and lowered her in his arms, until she touched the water.
“Let me know if it’s too hot,” he said.
“No. It’s fine.” Cat untangled her hold from around his neck, but rather than release her, he crouched down to settle her all the way inside the bath.
“You’re getting wet.” She splashed water at him to make sure. A hesitant smile tilted the corners of her mouth, and he understood that she was holding back, waiting for him to show what he wanted.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” he warned her. “I’m getting in with you.”
Elation streaked down his limbs as he left her and quickly discarded his clothing on the single chair in the room. It seemed so easy now, so clear in his mind. What was the point of denying what he needed so badly, what they both wanted?
He returned, pausing at the bathroom door. Cat turned to look at him. Water cascaded from her shoulders and ran in rivulets down her breasts. Her skin gleamed wet. Her lips parted as she stared at him, her eyes dark with passion. For a long moment, Brock stood still, admiring her.
His, to conquer.
Not taking his eyes off her, he moved up to the tub and lifted one foot inside. The heat gripped his flesh and reverberated up to his groin.
“Scoot over,” he ordered.
She sat up, and he fitted his large frame inside, reclining against the end. He made space for her, but instead of settling between his legs as he had expected, her back to his chest, she stretched on her side beside him, partly in the narrow gap by his side and partly draped over him, one leg folded beneath his knees and he other hooked over them.
He slipped his arm around her. “Are you getting warm?”
“Yes,” she murmured. Her hand traveled up his torso, slippery with water. A thousand small explosions raced down his abdomen. His arousal stirred amid the clouds of bath foam. He tipped his head back and groaned out loud.
“Tell me what to do,” Cat said. “I’m not…experienced.”
Fatigue swamped him. Part of it was a release of the fear he’d felt for her safety, and the heat lapping over his skin, but deep down his relaxation came from the sweet surrender in the fight to resist her and ignore his own physical needs.
“Have you ever…?” he asked.
Cat shook her head. Her eyes drifted down his body, came to a halt at his straining shaft. “The thought has never appealed to me before,” she said in a low voice.
“And now it does?”
“Oh yes.” She shimmied like a lizard down his chest. “Very much.”
Water rippled and sloshed as she moved. His muscles tightened with fierce anticipation. He withdrew his arm from around her and placed both his hands on her head. With gentle but insistent pressure, he brought her down to his straining cock.
“Open your mouth,” he told her. Then he re
leased her and stretched his arms along the sides of the tub, leaving her to decide whether to engage in the act or not.
A tremor ran though him as her lips closed around him. After the heat of the bath, the inside of her mouth felt cool, and the contrast magnified his lust. From the first sight, she’d been full of contradictions. Prim and sexy, demure and forward. Her unpredictability kept him on edge, his mind constantly on her and what she might do next.
“Run your lips up and down.” His voice was hoarse.
She obeyed the instruction, tentatively at first. Gaining confidence, she began to swirl her tongue over the bulbous end. One of her hands crept up from beneath and cupped his balls.
“Jesus, Cat,” he groaned. “What are you doing to me?”
She emitted a low sound in her throat and picked up speed. Her teeth scraped his flesh, but he didn’t care, didn’t give a damn about anything but the explosion that was building up at the base of his spine.
Without any prompting from his part, she shifted to a kneeling position between his legs. The angle took him deeper into her mouth, gave more friction. He caught her head in his hands, gripped the sides to hold her still, his cock buried between her lips. With a few quick thrusts of his hips, he climbed the final steps toward release.
The world went dark around him. A harsh cry tore from his chest. Pleasure streaked along his nerves, raw and volatile, ripping right through him. It felt as if his very soul soared away and then slowly gathered back into his body with the steady pulse that rocked his shoulders against the end of the tub.
“Are you on birth control?” he asked when she pulled away.
“Un-uh.” She made the sound without opening her mouth.
“Don’t spit in the water,” he told her as sanity returned. “The little buggers are good swimmers.”
Brock watched as she reached for a handful of tissues and dealt with his sperm. His hands clenched into fists as he realized he couldn’t fully take her, not tonight, not without protection. He cursed himself for not being prepared and almost laughed out loud at the thought. Prepared? How could a man be prepared for breaking his principles?
“The water is cooling.” Cat sprawled on top on him again, not bashful in the least. Her head tipped back and she inspected him with sultry eyes. “I didn’t realize I’d enjoy it so much. I’ve always thought it’s something women do only because men demand it.”
“That’s what I’ve always thought too.” He clasped his hands around her waist and levered her up, then hoisted her to her feet. “Let’s get you dry.”
****
“You do remember that I’m not on birth control?” Cat stared at Brock as he carried her across the room and deposited her on top of the bed.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll manage.”
He had dried her with a mix of gentleness and efficiency, not pausing to linger on her curves. Apart from one single kiss on her belly as he knelt to rub the towel along her legs, he hadn’t caressed her. Disappointment ached inside her. He’d had his pleasure, and now he’d lost interest.
Heat swirled around the room, drawing moisture back to her skin. She’d flipped the thermostat to maximum when they arrived, planning to turn it down again after a few minutes, but she’d forgotten.
“Could you adjust the temperature?” she asked.
“No.” He unraveled the fluffy white towel from around her. “I want it warm, so we don’t need to get under the covers.”
He straightened and raked his gaze over her naked form, his eyes hot and unfathomable. Reaching down, he trailed his fingertips along her front. “How did your husband satisfy you, if he was impotent? What did he do to give you pleasure?”
Her mouth went dry. “Why are you asking?”
“Because I want to do every single thing to you that he did and more. I want to put my stamp on you. Wipe out any memory you have of anyone else ever touching you. I don’t care if it takes all night, or uses up every ounce of energy I have left. By the morning, you’ll belong to no one but me.”
Heat pooled between her legs at his words and the predatory glint in his eyes.
“There are no memories to wipe out,” she told him. “When I realized I’d been tricked into a marriage of convenience, I agreed to stay, provided that’s what we would have. A practical arrangement, nothing more. He never touched me, and anyone else was so long ago that I’ve already forgotten them.”
Satisfaction flashed in his expression. His jaw tightened with determination, like a man facing a challenge—scale a mountain, traverse a desert, sail across an ocean. He climbed up on the bed and settled kneeling beside her.
“Turn over,” he ordered, placing one hand at her hip.
Cat rolled on her stomach and pressed her face to the shiny comforter. Every cell in her body tingled. When his lips brushed her neck, she cried out, startled. It was nothing but a fleeting contact, but the pleasure radiated all the way to her toes.
Her breath began to pant as Brock explored her spine, vertebra by vertebra, until he reached the top of her buttocks. With his calloused hands, he cupped one side, then the other, gently squeezing. Too soon, he withdrew his touch, leaving her bereft.
Then a fingertip drifted to the top of her cleft and hovered there before breaking the contact.
“I’m thinking of all the ways I could make love to you if we had protection.” His voice came out hoarse. “How do you like it, Catherine? Do you like it hard or gentle? Fast or slow? Do you like it face to face, or from behind? On top, sitting across my lap, kneeling down?”
The hand descended to the back of her legs. Starting at the hollow behind her knees, it began a slow travel up. A sob of frustration tore from her throat, and Cat tried to stifle the sound by pressing her mouth to the bedclothes.
“No, Catherine. I want to hear your pleasure. Don’t hide anything from me.”
“I can’t wait,” she wailed. “I’m burning up.”
Brock hushed her and used his hand to nudge her legs apart. “Don’t rush it. I want to touch every part of you.”
His finger dipped between her legs, found her opening.
She arched her back, jutting out her rear to give him better access.
“Turn over,” he ordered once more.
She rolled around, found him up on his knees, staring down at her.
In silence, he stretched out over her. His erect shaft nudged her belly. Her knees sprang apart, and she realized that if he made a move to enter her without protection, she wouldn’t try to stop him.
He settled between her legs, but inched higher up, so the restless motion of her hips wouldn’t tempt him inside.
“No,” he told her. “Not tonight.”
His mouth came down to her neck and found the spot that ignited all her senses.
“Oh my God, oh my God.” Her voice drifted around them, an incoherent stream of sound. Her head trashed side to side, at the same time seeking and avoiding his lips as their impact shattered her usual reserve.
Brock traveled down her body, pausing to kiss her breasts. Teasing, tugging, gently biting the peaked nipples. Tension screamed through her, and Cat thought she’d lose her mind if he didn’t do something soon. She felt his muscles bunch as he got ready to move again, and the prospect sent a shudder along her limbs. She tried to wriggle up on the bed to shorten the remaining distance, but his hands gripped her waist to hold her still.
His warm breath swept across her belly, not touching, barely nuzzling. Then, finally, his hands curled around her thighs and he urged her legs wide, impossibly wide. He repositioned her, angling her hips upward. An almost unbearable heat exploded inside her as his mouth came down on her.
His tongue opened and searched and stroked and tasted. Pleasure washed over her as he possessed her with intimacy she hadn’t known existed. Her hips bucked and reared, out of control. Ragged sounds burst from her throat as she obeyed his command, not hiding her pleasure from him. The cool façade she had learned to hide behind combusted and fell to
ashes.
All too soon, he drove her over the edge. She arched like a bow on the bed as contractions seized her, ripping through her on a release that splintered her mind. Tears seeped out through tightly closed lids. She screamed out his name, so loud that Brock had to reach up and place a hand across her mouth to silence her.
When the waves of completion stilled, he released her and got up, but only long enough to turn down the heating.
Her body felt liquid, boneless. She lay languid on the bed and allowed him to lift her up and tuck her beneath the covers. When he stretched out beside her, she curled into his side. His arms closed around her. He pressed a kiss on her forehead.
“Get some rest,” Brock told her. “I haven’t had my fill of you yet.”
With a sigh, Cat closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
He woke her twice more, and brought her to violent climax each time, until she lost all awareness of what was real and what was part of a dream.
In the morning, Cat became aware of the loss of Brock’s body heat. Her eyes blinked open. He stood beside the bed, looking down at her, already pulling his clothes on. The reading lamp bathed the room in muted yellow light.
“I’m sorry, I need to go,” he said.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Nine o’clock.” He finished strapping the holstered handgun to his ankle before leaning down to give her a quick kiss. “I’m sorry. It’s a family gathering, arranged weeks ago. I have to drive up to Maryland. I won’t be back until late. I’ll see you in the office tomorrow morning.”
“I see.” She lifted a brow.
“Cat. It’s not like that.” He caught her chin with the edge of his hand. “I’m not running away because I spent last night in bed with you and have scored you off some mental to-do list. I have a prior engagement, and you have to admit, it makes sense to stand back a little, get some perspective.”
She pursed her mouth and nodded, unwilling to argue.
“Good girl,” he said, and leaned down for another kiss, longer this time.
When the door closed after him, Cat sank against the mattress and sighed. The words she’d longed to hear were nothing to do with love. Far more casual, they would have meant just as much to her, but he’d never said them.
How Cat Got a Life Page 6
