Once Upon a Holiday

by Beverly Jenkins

  She couldn’t have responded if she had wanted to. Instead, she let him work his magic. The warmth of his lips, the wanderings of his warm, sure hands made her want more. When he placed a series of fleeting kisses against the trembling skin above her neckline, her eyes slid closed from the onrushing sensations.

  Only then did he kiss her lips. The intensity deepened immediately. Their arms encircled each other, and they fed lingeringly yet hungrily. He was so good at it she thought she could kiss him until the end of time, and again she wanted more.

  So he gave her more, and when he pulled aside the top of her suit to plant kisses on the crowns of the twin beauties it hid, she moaned.

  “I’m going to worship you, my lady,” he promised thickly. “Take you to heaven and then worship you again….”

  His mouth and hands on her breasts were dazzling. Were it not for his strong arm caressing her back, she’d be a puddle on the floor. All her inhibitions seemed to burn away. She wanted his touch everywhere. Caught in a maelstrom of desire, she shamelessly offered up her breasts and he paid her a sweet, torrid tribute.

  He raised his head and looked down into her eyes. Holding his gaze, she reached under her arm and slid the zipper down. He leaned in and kissed the skin she brought into view. By the time she’d guided him to her waist, she could no longer think. His masterful loving left her so mindless she could only stand there and ripple from the top of her tiara to the heels of her boots. He pulled the suit down past her waist, and one of Chicago’s senior-most ATF agents stood in the center of the softly lit hotel suite wearing nothing but her mask, her catsuit halfway off and a black thong decorated with tiny rhinestones.

  Leyton almost came there and then. Drawing in a deep breath, he ran passion-laced eyes over the erotic picture her tall, lean body presented. If she wasn’t really an African goddess, she should be. Beauty called to him every place he looked. The ripe breasts, the strong expanse of her thighs highlighted by a provocative thong made him harder than he’d ever been with a woman before. He slid a finger over her parted lips and down the valley between her breasts, pausing a moment to toy with the hot nipples still hard and damp from his loving. The touch continued down the firm torso to tease the small whorl of her navel. Holding her humid eyes, he brushed his hand over the thin strip of silk, then slid his fingers into the warm triangle covering the place a man most wanted to be. Her lids closed, and she widened her stance so he could delve deeper. Pleased by that, he leaned in and kissed her mouth. “You’re very hot, my lady.” Not waiting for or needing an answer, he gave each of her nipples a sultry lick, and when she moaned in response, his finger between her thighs moved aside the miniscule panel and found slick damp flesh. “You’re very wet, too….”

  The combination of his actions and words sent Eve over the edge, and she came, shuddering and buckling. It had been so long since she’d had a man, she should have been embarrassed, orgasming so quickly. But the waves of heat emanating from his scandalous touch were too glorious for her to care.

  Leyton wanted to watch her come again and again. Her body seemed made for his hands. Lord he was hard and if he didn’t get some relief soon… “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

  Hazy and breathless, Eve dragged the catsuit up her body and forced her shaky legs to follow.

  In order to keep their identities hidden, he didn’t turn on any of the lamps. The moonlight coming in through the open drapes gave off just enough illumination to lighten the shadows, but not enough to see clearly. The darkness allowed him to remove his helmet with the certainty that she couldn’t see his face any better than he could see hers. After removing his costume and wrapping himself up, he joined her on the shadowy bed.

  No sight was needed. With their hands and mouths they began again. Leyton wondered how he’d ever get enough of the feel of her skin under his lips or the sounds of her gasps of pleasure. At sunrise this fairy tale would end, so he set out to savor her because the memory would have to last a lifetime. With that in mind, he worshipped her slowly, scandalously and completely. He dallied at her breasts until her nipples were hard and damp again. The heat between her thighs drew him like a thirsty man to an oasis, and he touched and plucked and teased her there until her long legs parted and her satiny hips rose in silent need.

  “Are you ready, Your Highness?”

  “Yes. Please…”

  It was an order he was happy to obey, so he slid himself into paradise. The sensations were so powerful he had to fight off the orgasm that threatened to explode there and then. His body wanted to take her like there’d be no tomorrow in order to get the relief it had been craving since the first kiss, but his mind wanted to linger over the feel of her tight flesh around his hardness, and the way she began to move in response to his slow rhythmic strokes. He ran his palm over her breasts and played while she crooned. He grazed a finger over her parted lips and she flicked her tongue against it. When she reached down between their joined bodies and wrapped a hot hand around the base of his shaft, he growled with pleasure and increased his thrusts and rhythm. He heard her whisper, “Come for me, centurion.”

  The sultry invitation was too much. The orgasm broke through his defenses, and he began stroking her madly. A moment later, he felt her shatter beneath him, and her shout of release joined his. Their world became a firestorm of lust and sensation. Holding on to her hips, Leyton pumped and thrust and poured out his soul until he had nothing left. As they lay tangled together in the aftermath, their harsh breathing was the only sound in the otherwise silent room.

  Eve had indeed been taken to heaven. He definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, and she was truly grateful for it. The two orgasms she’d had continued to echo, and all she wanted to do was lie with him like this for the rest of her life. When he withdrew from her body, her soft wordless protest brought on a soft chuckle and a finger that circled her straining nipple.

  He kissed her softly. “You make a soldier not want to return to duty.”

  “And you make a goddess want to abdicate her throne.”

  His fingers on her nipples were reigniting her fires. Wondering how she’d ever get through the rest of her life knowing he was in the world, but not knowing his name, she pushed the thought away and reminded herself again that this was just a one-night stand. No identities, no commitments. Just good, hot loving.

  And for the rest of the night, they gave each other plenty of it.

  At four o’clock in the morning, sated and so full of pleasure she couldn’t move, Eve grabbed hold of what little discipline she had left and sat up on the edge of the bed. In a soft voice filled with regret, she told him, “I have to go.”

  He traced a slow finger down her spine. “I understand. So do I.”

  She glanced back over her shoulder at him. “I wish I didn’t.”

  “Me, too.

  She searched his shadowed face. “Thank you for a wonderful time.”

  “You’re welcome”

  Leyton wanted to ask for her name, but knew that was out of line. “Give me one last kiss, then you go and get yourself together. I’ll leave after you’re gone.”

  Eve didn’t want to leave but life called. Being late for her flight back to Chicago wasn’t an option.

  They shared a final parting kiss that was filled with longing, loss and regret. When it was over, she drew her fingers slowly down his strong cheek. “Good bye, my centurion.”

  “Be well, my lady.”

  Eve gathered up her clothing and padded through the shadows over to the bathroom.

  Sitting on the bed in the dark, Leyton saw the bathroom light go on and for just a moment, caught sight of her nude back and hips before she disappeared behind the closed door. He still didn’t know her name, but from that brief glimpse he knew that she had a butterfly tattooed at the base of her spine. It was the only clue he had, and it gave him hope that he’d find her again—somehow, even if it took the rest of his life.

  Chapter 3

  Dead on her feet, Eve got
herself back to the hotel just in time to transform back into her real self and run down to meet the six o’clock airport shuttle that was due to arrive in ten minutes. As she waited, memories of the centurion and his lovemaking continued to reverberate inside. Telling herself she was back in the real world and that the fantasy was over didn’t help. All she could think about was him. She floated back to their last kiss, but her reverie was interrupted by the arrival of the airport shuttle. She set it aside and waited to board the shuttle van when her cell phone began to buzz. Exasperated, she pulled it out of the pocket of her brown suede jacket and looked at the number on the caller ID. It was her office. “Yeah, Hank.”

  “Hey, Foxy.” Hank Ingram headed up the Chicago office, and he’d been calling her Foxy Brown since the day they’d met. She liked him a lot. “Where are you?” he asked.

  “At the hotel waiting on the shuttle.”

  “Good. Get out of line and report to the local office there.”

  “What?”

  “Big fire there last night. Since you’re on the ground, it’s yours.”

  “Hank,” she whined.

  “I love you, too.” He gave her the name and number of the person she was to contact. “Call me later and give me an update.”

  “Okay. I’ll be staying with my aunt and uncle. Be in touch.”

  “Ciao.”

  Eve closed her phone and sighed aloud. Damn.

  Driving home, Leyton was blue. He had Miles on. It was a little past dawn, and the sky was still gray—a Miles kind of morning. As the horn fed his soul he wondered where she was. Home in Detroit somewhere, or at the airport getting ready for a flight out. He could still taste her lips, hear her voice and feel the warmth of her skin under the slide of his hands. Who is she? The memories of her would be haunting him for some time to come. She’d been regal, commanding and totally uninhibited in bed. Not the kind of woman a man would easily forget. According to the briefing on the party, the attendees had come from all over the world. Finding her again would be like finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. During his law enforcement career, he’d found murderers, arsonists and every other kind of bad guy the city could offer up, so surely he could find a woman with a butterfly tattooed on her back. Right, he told himself sarcastically. There were millions of butterflies on the backs of women all over the world. What were the chances of him running into her again? Suppose she was from Africa, or France or some other foreign country? But he didn’t care. He’d find her.

  Keeping one eye on the light morning traffic, he fished his phone out of the glove compartment. It and his weapon had been locked inside while he he’d been at the party playing centurion. He hit the speed dial to connect himself with dispatch. Joyce Ingalls, the head clerk, answered. “Hey, Joyce.”

  “Where’ve you been?”

  “Morning to you, too.”

  “Get yourself over to the new Morgan’s complex.”

  “Why?”

  “Sucker burned to the ground last night. We’ve been blowing up your phone since two a.m.”

  “What?”

  “Just go. Everybody’s already on the scene.”

  “Thanks.” Damn.

  He reached across the seat, grabbed his emergency light and slapped it on top of the car. With the blue light flashing, he turned the vehicle back the way he’d come and roared off in an easterly direction.

  He smelled the smoke six blocks away. It wasn’t the thick, acrid smoke of a fully engulfed fire but the fainter type associated with mopping up. The side streets leading to the complex were littered with hoses and uniformed firefighters moving with the slow, measured steps of having been in a long fight. Fire trucks flashing lights lined the way. The shields on the sides identified them as from station houses all over the city. Only something big would require such a strong show of force.

  He flashed his badge at a uniformed cop and was allowed to drive into the parking lot. What was left of the multimillion-dollar shopping complex was a smoking hulk of charred brick and not much else. Firefighters in full gear were on the roof wielding axes. He parked and got out. “Glad you could join us, big brother.”

  His brother Keith’s smiling brown face was black with smoke and sweat. He was in full gear also and had his ax and helmet in hand. He and a couple of his crew appeared to be on their way back to their engine.

  “You okay?”

  “Just the usual burns and bruises. Mom said you went to a costume party.”

  Leyton ran his eyes over the small army of police and firemen swarming the scene. He was looking for his crew. “Don’t ask. You seen any of my people?”

  “Yeah. Saw Chief Sawyer over with the mayor. Neighbors said the place went up like a match.”

  “Great. I’ll see you later. Let Mom know I’m here.”

  “Will do. Take care of yourself.”

  Seeing his brother alive and well gave Leyton one less worry, but hearing that the building had gone up fast and hard meant he was in for a long day.

  Wearing her shades, an ATF jacket, baseball cap and T-shirt, Eve was introduced by one of the local ATF agents to the other people in the room. This was a meeting of the task force being put together to investigate last night’s fire. “Glad to be on board,” she said and took a seat in one of the empty chairs.

  They were in a conference room in the city’s federal building. Local police and fire, a couple of FBI agents, Eve and the other agent from ATF, a young kid named McBride, were represented. McBride’s office had requested national task force help because the locals were undermanned. Two of the five members were in Ontario working with the Canadian Mounties on an illegal weapons sting; another member was recovering from gunshot wounds suffered in a confrontation last week, and another was in Kansas City burying her mother. That left McBride in charge. He’d been with ATF less than six months.

  The Detroit fire department was running the meeting, which was fine with Eve. The last thing she wanted was to come in and start throwing federal weight around. Usually, partnering didn’t go well when that happened. This was the city’s turf; she and her people were there to assist.

  “Okay, let’s get started.” In charge was one of the city’s fire chiefs, a man named Stan Sawyer. He also headed up the arson squad.

  According to him, the place that burned down last night was a multimillion-dollar development that represented part of the city’s revitalization efforts. It was to have been the first new shopping complex built within the city limits in twenty years. The ribbon cutting had taken place less than a month ago.

  “The initial canvass of witnesses said the place went up in minutes and was fully engulfed a short time later.”

  To Eve that sounded suspiciously like arson, and the chief seemed to concur. “With fires still to investigate from this weekend’s Angels night activities, we’re spread a little thin, so I’m going to appoint Chief Investigator Palmer as the point person, and I’m hoping Agent Clark will agree to assist.”

  “No problem,” Eve said. “Is he here?”

  “No, but he should be shortly. He’s at the scene.”

  She nodded and hoped she and Palmer got along. Even though it was the twenty-first century, some men still found it hard to work with a woman.

  The chief continued, “In the meantime, the mayor’s office is anxious to get this resolved. Having a prominent development like this go up in smoke gives the city just one more unneeded black eye. Any questions?”

  There were a few, and the chief answered them as best he could considering he was working with preliminary information. “Everything we have for now on the building’s value, its owners, developers and vendors are in the packets in front of you.”

  Eve flipped through some of the pages. A man entered the conference room. He was tall, brown-skinned and wearing a long, beat-up leather coat. Only when he walked past her did she see the battered cowboy boots on his feet, and note that he smelled like smoke. He nodded at the chief. “Sorry I’m late.” He took a seat and looked
around the room. “I know everyone here except the ATF in the back.”

  Eve answered. “Clark. National task force.”

  “Thanks in advance.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Eve judged him to be about six foot two, muscular but lean, short hair, with a clean-shaven face. His build brought to mind the centurion, but chastising herself because this was neither the time nor place, she refocused on the here and now.

  The chief was saying, “Captain Palmer, I’ve asked Agent Clark to partner with you.”

  “That’s good.” He turned her way as if seeking her opinion.

  “I’m okay with it,” she responded, shades masking her eyes. He held her gaze for a beat of a moment longer than she thought necessary before turning back around. She hoped he wasn’t planning on hitting on her. Fending off the wannabe charmers always brought out the rhymes-with-rich in her, especially when operating on no sleep, like now.

  By the end of the meeting, everyone had their assignments and was ready to roll. She and Palmer exited together.

  He asked, “You want to take a look at the scene?”

  “Yeah. Be a good way for me to get up to speed.”

  “Okay. Car’s across the street in the lot.”

  On the ride to the site, Eve looked out at the changes that had taken place in her beloved hometown. There was so much of it gone now, and what remained appeared tired yet still hopeful.

  “Where you from?” Palmer asked.

  “Right here. Eastside.”

  He looked surprised. “Really?”

  “Born and raised.”

  “It’s home for me, too. Westside, though. What high school?”

  “Cass.”

  “Ah, one of those brainiac girls.”

  She shrugged. “I did okay.” Eve decided they’d chitchatted long enough. “Tell me about the scene.”

  Leyton gave her a long look. He guessed she’d made all the nice she intended to make and was ready to get to work. “Heavy scent of gasoline. Real heavy.”