The sweat began to run down his scalp toward his eyes. He wiped it off with the towel around his neck, cursing himself for letting his mind wander. But it was hard not to whenever Emma was around, and all he could think about was how good it felt fucking her.
Setting the treadmill as fast as he could run, he forced himself to think about something else. The play Melissa had talked him into going with her to that evening was as good a subject as any. The local schools in the area had joined the historic society and were on a hell-bent mission to save the old theater building on the edge of town. Their solution to bringing it back to life was putting on a series of plays, which would bring in the extra money they needed to pay for the refurbishing.
She’d rattled off several familiar titles but the play scheduled that evening was special, she’d said with excitement. The drama club at school had written it, and she was in the drama club. Mike supposed a little culture wouldn’t hurt him. Lord knew he didn’t get enough in his line of work.
Nonetheless, he’d warned Melissa to forget about the suit she’d tried to persuade him to wear. He wasn’t a Ken doll. A pair of dress slacks and a nice shirt would have to do. They’d fought about it briefly but in the end Mike had won.
His gaze shot to the clock and he flipped off the treadmill, foregoing warming down. It was all he had time for. He wanted to hit the hot tub before showering and heading for home. That was just what he needed to help him wind down from a long day. However, when he rounded the corner to where the hot tub was located, he came to an abrupt halt, disbelieving his luck.
* * * *
With her head back and her eyes closed in lazy meditation, Emma smiled at the ridiculous notion of trying to convince herself she was skiing on a snow-capped mountain and not slowly boiling in a pot of water. She supposed that would defeat the purpose anyhow. Although the aches and pains of a few moments ago were diminishing, her blood pressure had surely shot sky high.
“You know, it’s dangerous falling asleep in there.”
Her heart gave a little jump but she preferred to think it was due to the exercises she’d been doing and not the unexpected sound of Mike’s sexy baritone. She knew it was just a matter of time before they ran into each other again.
Opening both eyes to his larger-than-life presence, she saw him standing directly across from her, his thick muscular thighs braced apart in a stance that reminded her of the dominant pose of a Viking hero she’d seen on the cover of some romance novel. The gray shorts resembled boxers, dark in some places where he’d been sweating, and clinging to a part of his body that provided evidence he was definitely not lacking in male attributes.
The sight of that soft bulge started an inferno inside Emma. She knew firsthand how it felt having Mike’s cock inside her. Filling her completely.
“I wasn’t sleeping,” she clarified with a half-smile, thinking how close she’d been to it, though. Her gaze traveled a lazy path up Mike’s torso, taking in the way his damp tank top outlined his broad chest and accentuated his muscular arms. She continued until finally reaching his laughing eyes. “Are you coming or going?” she asked, wondering why she hadn’t seen him exercising earlier.
“I’m on my way to the, ah, steam room,” he said after a brief hesitation. “You know you’re supposed to wear a bathing suit in there, don’t you?”
Emma grew uncomfortable beneath his cocky grin. She was already hot, yet his expression, the sensual look in his eyes as they took in her clinging outfit, made her even warmer. She tried to control the erratic beating of her heart.
“Sorry, I’m not up on hot tub etiquette yet.” And she’d forgotten her swimsuit. Deciding she’d been in long enough, she began to wade to the steps. “I’m getting out anyway. I feel cooked enough.”
“You do look a little overdone,” he agreed, stepping aside as she walked up the steps.
Meeting his eyes, Emma had an odd feeling that Mike wasn’t saying exactly what was on his mind. The bold look in his silent inspection told her he liked what he saw, very much. She was mortified when she felt her nipples peak, and convinced herself it was the cool air hitting them. His gaze was drawn to them like a magnet and she held her breath, but he only looked for a second.
They reached simultaneously for the towel she’d draped over the rail, their hands accidentally touching. Emma drew back, releasing a gasp that seemed to echo off the tiled walls. Mike snatched the towel almost angrily, holding it out to her. The sudden spark in his eyes mesmerized her.
“Thanks,” she murmured, clutching the towel to the front of her as though it offered some form of protection. “I guess I’ll grab a shower.” She took a step on the slippery tile, her leg shooting out from under her. “Oh!” There was nothing she could do to stop herself from going down. She braced herself to hit the floor.
“I’ve got you!”
Mike’s voice was low and deep, warmly intimate as he caught Emma against his chest. His hands curled around the flesh of her upper arms the same time her arms came up between them, her hands flattening against his chest. She felt his heart beating beneath her palms, the rhythm matching the erratic tempo of her pulse.
Tilting her head enough to peer into his eyes, she exclaimed, “Goodness! I seem to be accident-prone lately and it seems you’re always there to rescue me. You must be getting tired of this.”
Her comment was followed by a nervous laugh but all Mike did was stare down at her. He was too much aware of her against him. Even with a towel between them he could feel the heat of her body.
He’d been thinking about that mouth of hers since the other day when he’d left her with Elliot. He wanted to taste her again, surprised at how strong the need became when he was within feet of her. Besides, what harm could one little kiss do? It didn’t mean anything. And maybe kissing her would help ease the ache below his belt.
He heard her breath catch, watched her eyes flare with feminine surprise, but it didn’t keep him from lowering his head
“What are you doing?” She leaned back. The humor in those damn eyes of hers was spilling over, making her that much more appealing to him.
He chuckled. “Nothing…yet.”
Her soft voice seemed overloud in the small room. Mike watched her tongue sweep across her bottom lip, the action firing his blood with lust. The next sound echoing off the tiles was his low groan as he gave into a need so strong that it rendered him out of control. Before he realized it, he was pushing Emma backwards until he had her against the wall, and his body against hers.
His gaze blazed down into hers. He would have stopped then and there if he hadn’t noticed her pupils dilate with a hunger just as powerful as his.
Her mouth parted and that was all the invitation he needed. He slanted his mouth over hers in a kiss that was every bit as sweet as it was savage. His hands roamed over her wet form, caressing her shapely outline.
Passion ignited like wildfire on a summer day; fast and furious it consumed them. As the sounds of their mutual desire echoed through the room, Emma opened her mouth to his thrusting tongue, melting against him with a moan of pleasure. Her sweet sound of surrender urged Mike into deepening the kiss, feeding the hunger that raced through his blood. As his mouth moved hungrily over hers, his cock leapt to life.
She released a sweet sound of surrender against his mouth, and arched her lower body. In turn Mike thrust against Emma. He wanted her to feel what she did to him. He wanted her just as hungry. His hands glided down to her hips and around to cup her bottom. She’d have to be dead or indifferent not to notice he was aroused. He ground his cock against her. Her response told him she was neither.
As much as her kitten sounds and twisting body turned him on, it scared him more, bringing him back to his senses and reality quicker than as if a gun had gone off because he wanted Emma in the most raw and basic way. He wanted her now, against the wall, on the floor, Mike didn’t care.
Kissing and touching in a public place was one thing, but there was no way he was going to f
uck Emma where someone might catch them. He didn’t know where he found the strength to tear his mouth away. Leaning his forehead against the softness of hers, he took in a ragged breath.
“Emma…this isn’t…very wise.” Mike could barely get the words out. He couldn’t control the unexpected shudder that racked his highly aroused body.
“I believe you’re the one who initiated it, Detective,” she replied in a breathless whisper. “I’m innocent.” She moved against him, teasing him.
“I’m not a very smart man,” he countered, still struggling for control. “And you’re far from innocent, honey.”
When Emma’s tongue darted out to caress his upper lip, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. His heart slammed against his ribs, his limbs quaking as if in the throes of a powerful orgasm. “Emma…Emma…” he whispered regretfully, and tilted his head to run his open mouth against the side of her smooth neck.
She cried out, arching into his roaming mouth while encouraging him to continue. Mike didn’t need any encouragement, using his teeth, tongue and lips to turn her into a wild and sensuous woman in his arms. One who conveyed the message that she wanted him with every little gasp and movement of her body. Her hands smoothed over his shoulders with urgency.
“Mike!” she gasped, when he moved against a particularly sensitive spot behind her ear. His hands moved to her hips, sliding up to cup her breasts. His thumbs flicked over her taut nipples making her shiver.
“Oops! Sorry, I’ll come back.”
Mike stiffened upon hearing Amanda’s voice behind him but he didn’t move, wanting to shield Emma as much as possible from her sister’s prying eyes. When he sensed Amanda had gone, he took a deep breath, and stepped away from Emma. His gaze moved over her glowing face, not missing the bright excitement flickering in her eyes and pleased that he’d been the one to put it there.
“Well,” Emma began with breathless wonder, a little smile on her swollen, trembling mouth.
Mike responded with a slow grin of his own. “That’s not exactly the kind of response I’m looking for after kissing you breathless,” he joked.
“Then how about, wow!” she offered, barely able to meet his eyes. “And I’m not just talking about the kiss.”
His lips quirked and he stepped back to give her more room. I can’t agree more. Any more time with Emma and I’ll be a goner.
He sucked in a deep breath. “You can move away from the wall now.”
“No, I can’t.”
He frowned. “Are you okay?”
“I can’t feel my legs.”
Her full-blown smile said more than words. She was in as bad a shape as he was. Mike turned away before he gave into the urge to plant another one on her. And more.
The kisses between them had rocked his world, and he was still reeling from the impact of touching her. There was nothing harmless about Emma, or his immediate response to her.
“You pack a serious punch, lady.” He didn’t look at her until he felt he’d moved a safe enough distance away. “And before you go spouting off something about the morals of a married man making a move on another woman…”
“I know you’re not married, Mike,” she admitted.
She’d managed to catch him by surprise.
“I’ve known since the Halloween party.”
There wasn’t a trace of remorse in her amused tone.
Amanda must have told her. Mike swung around, not sure how he felt over her admission. Her laughing eyes still showed signs of arousal, the healthy color in her face giving her a radiance he rarely took note of in a woman he’d just kissed the daylights out of.
“What, did pretending I was married make you feel safer?”
“Actually I think it made you feel safer.” Emma crossed her arms in an unconscious gesture of defiance. “You’re the one who let me go on believing you were married, Mike. Why? It certainly didn’t stop you from making love to me the other night. Is that how you remain in control of your relationships?”
Mike didn’t like where their conversation was going, partly because Emma was right. Only he hadn’t realized it until now. He’d never used his marital status as a means to control his relationships before. But a desperate man took desperate measures and that’s what he was. He’d use anything to aid him in not getting romantically, much less emotionally involved with anyone right now.
A one-night stand, and a few kisses didn’t mean they were involved in anything serious. However, there was one misconception he refused to let Emma continue believing. He walked back to her at a leisurely pace.
“You’re wrong about one thing, Emma. If I let you believe I was married, it wasn’t because I’m not interested in you. The truth is I’m too damn interested, and I don’t want to be!”
She flinched at the sharpness of his tone, and held her ground as he closed the distance between them. Remembering the passion they’d shared and how fast things had escalated, he halted, self-preservation kicking in. He knew it wouldn’t take much incentive to kiss her again, or more. And on the scale between one and ten his willpower was at two and still dropping.
The truth was, he wanted to fuck her until neither of them could stand.
“That’s an interesting style you have, Detective,” she acknowledged softly. “Tell me, if you’re attracted to a woman, how does that work? Most decent women I know wouldn’t let a married man get within a foot of her if she sensed he wanted something other than friendship. I only let my guard down the other night because I was, ah, vulnerable from the effect of, ah, alcohol.”
Mike noticed she had a hard time getting the words out. Maybe because it was a lie. She’d been very much aware of what she was doing and had responded wildly, and with passion.
He couldn’t help it. He reached forward and toyed with a damp curl resting on her forehead. With a life of its own it curled like a ribbon of shimmering silk around his finger.
“It’s too soon to know how it works, since this is the first time I’ve used it,” he confessed matter-of-factly.
“Why?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes, Mike,” she said without hesitation. “I really want to know.”
His eyes were on the hair he was casually twirling around his finger, until her soft response drew his attention. He stopped what he was doing, focusing on her lovely, confused eyes for a moment before deciding she deserved to know the truth. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.
“Because I’m lousy at relationships.” He released her hair. “And Melissa’s the one who gets hurt in the end. Right now my focus in life is just surviving her teenage years. So no matter how tempting you are, Emma, or how much I want to fuck you again, it’s not going to happen.”
Before he made himself out to be a liar, he turned and walked away.
Chapter 12
“I can’t do it!” Emma insisted not for the first time, backing up when it became obvious that Teresa Bates wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “I didn’t rehearse for that part.”
Teresa, who was in charge of producing the show and well known for her bulldog tactics when it came to getting her own way, didn’t hesitate to use them on Emma, who was quickly backing her way into a corner. “You have to, sweetie, there’s no one else,” Teresa declared firmly. “You’ll be great. And it’s a very short piece.”
Emma shook her head vigorously. “I can’t! I don’t know anything about Lola’s part. I was the understudy for the abused wife, remember?” She shot a nervous glance around the room, her eyes pleading for help from the other actors present. She wanted the play to be successful too but she wasn’t about to go out there and make a fool of herself.
“I thought you said you support the theater,” Teresa reminded her, sounding almost tearful.
Emma wasn’t buying it.
“Sandy eloped this afternoon and left us high and dry.”
“That’s not my fault,” Emma said, her back against the wall, literally. “What about her und
erstudy?” She glanced at the sea of faces crowding around her, wondering who that was.
“That would be me,” someone rasped in a barely audible whisper. Melanie Rice stepped forward, her hand at her throat and her nose as red as a cherry. Her expression was apologetic. “I came down with a bad cold yesterday and I always lose my voice, sorry,” she explained in a sad little voice.
Emma took a deep breath, returning her gaze to Teresa. “I can’t,” she insisted stiffly. “The play starts in an hour and…” She hesitated, looking for an ally. Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths, waiting for her final decision. Even Elliot was looking at her with big puppy dog eyes, silently pleading with her to say yes. Her gaze landed on another understudy. “What about Mary?”
Someone laughed out loud before quickly cutting it short behind their palm. “The part calls for a, ah, younger woman,” Teresa said, shooting the sixty-year-old Mary a look of regret.
“Tessa?” Emma said hopefully, glancing at the first grade schoolteacher who was a little on the plump side.
“She won’t fit into the costume,” Teresa quickly explained, ruling her out.
Her eyes shot to the quiet, little bookworm with mousy brown hair and large thick glasses. “Joy?”
Teresa shook her head negatively. “Doesn’t have the right look,” Teresa said. “If we want this play to be taken seriously, we need the right people in the right parts.”
Emma’s brows furrowed. She was beginning to get a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her she was losing ground. She couldn’t let everyone down. They were all watching her with pitiful looks in their eyes and dejected expressions on their faces. In spite of her fears, she knew, and Teresa knew, that it was just a matter of time before she caved.
“There’s no way I’ll have time to study the script,” she began. The sigh of relief from the group was like a canon going off and suddenly everyone was disappearing back inside their dressing rooms, assuming the problem was solved.
PASSIONATE ENCOUNTERS Page 11
