In Hope's Shadow

by Janice Kay Johnson

  “And Mom nursing hurt feelings.”

  “Right. My turn to apologize. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. My advice is, don’t tell her anything about Ben until you’re ready.” She paused just long enough to be effective. “Now, I’m another story. Dish.”

  Eve couldn’t help laughing. “So you can tell Seth what I said, and he can tell Ben?”

  “I wouldn’t do that.” Bailey sounded totally serious. “Cross my heart. If you ever want to talk...”

  “I’ll come to you.” Astonished, Eve realized she meant it. “Promise.”

  Hanging up a few minutes later, she wondered how it was that her resentment of the perfect, long-lost and miraculously recovered “sister” had transformed into liking and a growing friendship. In barely six months, she’d begun to accept the possibility that Bailey and she might be sisters in a real sense, something she’d have sworn was impossible.

  Maybe, she thought, I still resent Hope. But Bailey isn’t exactly Hope, even though she is.

  Clear as mud.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  FROM THE FAR side of the parking lot, Ben watched people come and go through the entrance to the sheriff’s department. Leaning against the cold metal of the fender of his unmarked county car, he held his cell phone to his ear.

  “Six thirty?” he suggested.

  “I’m working from home today, so if you can pick me up for dinner, that would be great,” Eve said.

  Hallelujah. Not just music to Ben’s ears, it was a full symphony, and enough to make his body stir. Damn, he wanted her.

  “No problem,” he said, really fast, before Eve could decide it would actually make more sense for her to meet him at the restaurant.

  They didn’t talk much longer; he’d just unlocked the car with the plan of heading out to track down several people he wanted to talk to when his phone rang and he saw Eve’s number.

  He had the passing thought that it might be nice if he could work from home, too. Her home, preferably. Although in that case, he doubted he’d do much work.

  She ended the conversation by saying, “I’ll expect you when I see you,” obviously unperturbed by the possibility he might not arrive on time to the second. He hadn’t thought there was a woman alive who not only understood why he had to be late or even cancel engagements fairly often, but did the same herself.

  No, not fair—there were women cops, after all. And turned out social workers with crushing caseloads scrambled to find time for a personal life, too.

  Life is good, he told himself, calculating whether he might be able to get away early for once. Wasn’t as if he’d be shorting the county on hours.

  Then don’t waste time, he told himself as he settled behind the wheel and fastened the seat belt.

  As it happened, he did break away early: a whole fifteen minutes. Which meant if he’d actually located all three people he’d set out to interview, he’d have been late.

  And Eve would have been okay with it. Would he ever get over the amazement, after years of bracing himself for reproaches or stony silences?

  When she opened the door to him, Eve clapped her hands to her face in mimed astonishment. “Oh, my goodness! Early!” She dropped the silly face and teased, “Eager, are you?”

  He’d thought about her all afternoon. The warmth in her chocolate-brown eyes when she smiled, the way she’d wiggled her butt to make a point that day at the sledding hill, the feel of her nestled against his groin on the sled. He wanted in the worst way to see her naked, that wavy dark hair tumbling loose over her shoulders and breasts.

  He’d had every intention of kissing her on the cheek and escorting her to dinner, reining in the lust until he brought her home.

  The laughter on her face had him aroused with stunning speed.

  Was he eager? “God, yes,” he said hoarsely, and hauled her up against him fast enough to scare her. He knew he hadn’t when she lifted on her toes, flung her arms around his neck and pressed a clumsy kiss to the side of his mouth before he quite had them aligned.

  Everything about her hit him at that moment. A subtly spicy scent, hair like the heaviest silk between his fingers, the delicacy of her body, the lushness of dark eyelashes fanned on her cheeks. Ben kissed her voraciously, trying to inhale her. He had his tongue in her mouth, tangled with hers, her taste flooding his senses. A grip on her butt lifted her higher. He squeezed the taut cheek, imagining how it would feel to do the same thing when he was inside her.

  Shuddering, he wrenched his mouth away from hers and lowered her until she was back on her feet, although he couldn’t make himself release her. He swallowed hard, looking down at her.

  Her face stayed tipped up to his. She slowly, uncertainly, opened eyes that were dazed, the brown making him think of melted caramel.

  “You’re beautiful.” His voice might have scraped over gravel on its way out. His entire body ached.

  And, yes, he’d never been so aware of how beautiful she was, with that heart-shaped face, big eyes and mass of black curls. Delicate and feminine, she still had a hint of someplace a whole lot more exotic than Stimson, Washington.

  “I...” She blinked. “Thank you.”

  “I want you.”

  Her gaze skimmed down and her lips curved. “I can tell.”

  He cleared his throat. “If we’re going to dinner, we’d better go.”

  Her eyes met his again. “I snacked all day. But you’re probably starved.”

  That was one way of putting it.

  He cradled her face in his hand, his thumb sliding over her parted lips. “For you,” Ben said, low and husky.

  Her tongue flicked the pad of his thumb, sending an electrical jolt through his body. He groaned. “Eve?” That was all the question he could ask. His brain didn’t seem capable of forming words.

  “Please,” she whispered, and turned her head to nip his thumb.

  He exploded into motion, scooping her up and starting through the apartment.

  “Did you close the door?”

  “What?” He stopped, staring down at her. It took a minute to absorb the question. “Damn. I don’t know.” He had to turn around and go back to see that, yes, the door was closed. Whether it was locked, he neither knew nor cared. He resumed his progress to the short hall.

  “Second room on the right,” she murmured, nibbling at his neck. When her tongue swirled in a circle, he stumbled but managed to shoulder open the door.

  Rich color surrounded him despite the beige carpet that was standard rental unit. Wall hangings, throw rug, a painting. He didn’t focus on any of them. The bed was his object.

  A stunning quilt that made him think of the swirl of gypsy skirts covered the bed. Another time, Ben might have paused to study it. Now, all he did was yank it back and let Eve slide down his body right beside the bed. Then he went after her mouth again. God, he loved kissing her.

  For a couple of minutes, he was content to do nothing but, sinking into the pleasure of her taste and textures, her enthusiastic response. His hands skated up and down her body, finding every subtle curve.

  Suddenly, that wasn’t enough. He backed off enough to grab the hem of her sweater. “Take it off.”

  She helped, after which all he could do was stare. “So pretty,” he said thickly. He’d never seen a woman more finely made: her skin smooth and golden, her collarbone as delicate as porcelain, her breasts not large but just right. The bra was lace-edged white, somehow both innocent and erotic. He laid his hands over her breasts, lifting and shaping, before flicking open the front catch. Watching his face, Eve ducked her shoulders so that the bra dropped.

  She also had the loveliest breasts he’d ever seen. Just enough to fill his hands, her nipples tight and dark. He wanted his mouth where his hands were. But when he grasped her around the waist to lie on the bed, sh
e batted at him.

  “No fair.” She started unbuttoning his shirt. Ben tried to help, but his fingers felt clumsy and finally he let her do it all, then push his shirt off.

  She made a pleased sound that arrowed straight to his groin. “You’re beautiful,” she murmured, flattening her hands on his chest, tugging gently at the hair sprinkled over it, lightly touching his nipples.

  Ben tipped his head back and closed his eyes, pleasure spearing him. Those small hands felt so damn good. Now she was kneading, occasionally scraping a fingernail lightly across skin that shivered from her touch. She followed the trail of hair down to his belt buckle.

  He groaned. “Don’t stop.”

  The look she gave him was almost shy, but then she laid a hand over the ridge beneath his belt and explored its dimensions, humming her approval when his penis jerked.

  “Enough,” he had to say, voice guttural. Never looking away from her, he managed to get his belt off and set his holstered weapon and badge on a side table. This time she didn’t protest when he scooped her up and sent her sprawling on deep purple flannel sheets before following her down. His mouth captured one breast and he suckled, drawing her nipple hard into his mouth. She moaned.

  She wore some kind of stretchy pants. Even through the fabric he felt her heat and knew she was already wet. He applied enough pressure to have her moaning and pushing her hips up to meet it.

  Ben moved to the other breast at the same time his fingers delved beneath the waistband and found her springy curls. He slid his finger between her folds and stroked in time with the tug of his mouth.

  He needed to see her. All of her. Ben rose to his knees to peel off the pants and bright toe socks. Her feet momentarily distracted him. They were small and, like the rest of her, fine-boned, her toenails painted the same rosy red as her fingernails. He squeezed her feet, running his thumbs up the arched instep and watching her toes curl.

  Then impatience had him sliding his hands up legs amazingly long given her short stature, smooth beneath his hands, until he reached the V of her thighs. He bent and rubbed his cheek against that springy black hair.

  Eve had lifted herself to watch him, braced on her elbows. Her lips were slightly parted, and he could see the tip of her tongue. Her eyes were the darkest he’d ever seen them.

  There was a lot he wanted to do to her, but abruptly he realized he wouldn’t be doing it this first time. He wrenched off his shoes and socks and shed his trousers, taking a packet from the pocket before he let them fall. He ripped it open and donned the condom under her fascinated stare. By the time his mouth closed over hers again, his hand was back between her legs, stroking, teasing, pressing. When he slid a finger inside her, her fingers dug into his back, the sharp edge of nails stinging and only driving his hunger into something like madness.

  Ben found his way between her legs and, keeping some of his weight on his elbows, pushed inside her, harder, faster than he should have given how small she was. He couldn’t make himself stop until he was seated deep, when he raised his head.

  “All right?” he managed to ask.

  She squirmed, her internal muscles flexing. He almost came. Not yet.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Oh, yes.”

  He began to move, finding a rhythm she matched, one that had his brain shutting down. He was all sensation. Usually he closed his eyes, but he wanted to see her face. She made little sounds, some of which he caught with his mouth. Needing her to come, he increased the intensity, went deeper, telling her she was perfect, beautiful, until her back arched in a great spasm and her eyes flew open just as the convulsions gripped him and he lost it. Her expression was one of naked astonishment, and he was afraid his was, too, as he thrust again, once, twice, then went rigid above her as he emptied himself in a climax of stunning power. The best he could do coming down was half roll so his shoulder took some of his weight. Some instinct had him grabbing her thigh and holding it over his hips to keep them connected.

  * * *

  EVE ENDED UP lying half atop him, her mind...blank. She only felt. The hard, punishingly fast beat of his heart beneath her ear, the tickle of the gold hair on his chest, the hard, hot wall of muscles. With her hair tumbling over her and him both, she couldn’t see more than a couple inches beyond her nose, but who needed to see? She wasn’t sure she could so much as lift her head and didn’t try.

  Eventually her brain started to reboot, and she was almost sorry, because, didn’t it figure, doubt hit her first. She’d never felt anything like that before. What if it had been routine for Ben? She couldn’t bear that.

  Don’t be the first to say, Oh, my God.

  After which her mouth opened, and she mumbled, “Oh, my God,” sounding every bit as dazed and stunned as she felt.

  The muscles beneath her cheek tightened and flexed. “You under there?” he asked huskily. He gathered handfuls of her hair and lifted, then smoothed it away from her face.

  Having him able to see her made Eve feel even more vulnerable. She kept her head where it was, so his view of her stayed oblique.

  “I think so.” Wow, that voice didn’t sound like hers. It was tremulous, uncertain. Because I am.

  “Good.” His hand kept moving, tracing her jaw, her cheekbone, gently stroking her temple, smoothing back her hair again.

  Eve let her own fingers spread on his chest and continued her earlier exploration. “You must work out.” Yep. Let’s make conversation.

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Run and lift weights.”

  He’d said something about running once. “Me, too. Running, I mean. No weights.”

  “In a gym?”

  “Winter only. Then I mostly do elliptical. Save my knees for pounding the pavement all summer.”

  His chest shook with a chuckle. “I know what you mean.”

  They both fell silent. He hadn’t responded to her “Oh, my God,” it occurred to her. Now what? Say, gee, that was fun, and when are you going home?

  Ben gusted a sigh. “I need to take this damn condom off.”

  Her eyes widened. He’d stayed inside her longer than he should have. Oh, my God. No. Wrong time of month. Wow. She should have thought. Note to self: go back on the pill or patches.

  “Yes, you should.” One, two, three, move. She rolled off him and lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

  Ben heaved himself up with apparent reluctance, and went into her bathroom. She turned her head to watch him go, discovering the back view was very nice. He might be lean, but he possessed impressive muscle definition in his back and butt. She heard the toilet and waited for his reappearance. He looked really, really good from the front, too. She propped her head on her hand and watched him approach.

  His mouth tilted in amusement. “I hope that’s appreciation.”

  “It is.” That came out so sultry, she surprised herself.

  He either liked sultry or the expression on her face. Instead of going back around to the other side of the bed, he stopped with his knees bumping the mattress on her side.

  Eve scooted closer. Close enough to stroke his thigh, as rock-hard as the muscles in his back had been. Head bent, he watched her, his eyes a heated blue that could have incinerated her. Her hand moved upward, cupped him, then rose so that she could wrap her fingers around him and squeeze and stroke.

  “We could still go out to dinner,” she suggested.

  His laugh broke. “You’re taking the wrong tactic if that’s what you want.”

  She smiled at him. “Just offering options.”

  “I like this one.”

  Yes, he did. The evidence was overwhelming. Eve half crawled to where she could rub her cheek on him, then lick upward. She’d never done anything like that before. Never wanted to. The musky scent and taste surprised and aroused her. She took him into her mouth, grazing him lig
htly with her teeth, and sucked.

  His body shook and an indescribable sound broke from him. His fingers sank into her hair and cradled her skull. “Eve.”

  When she circled him with her tongue, he shuddered, said her name again, and took control. Before she knew it, his head was between her legs, and she was the one shaking. There was a momentary crisis when he had to search for his wallet and find a second condom, but all the delay did was whet her appetite. This time, she shattered three strokes in, and Ben wasn’t far behind.

  * * *

  THE AFTERMATH WAS never good. This time, Ben was disconcerted to discover he didn’t want to leave her. Three times was not enough, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d thought that.

  In between times two and three, they made it to the kitchen, Eve bundled in a robe, him wearing only his pants. They talked while a frozen pizza heated in the oven, and kept talking while they ate. He never seemed to run out of things to say to her, and he liked hearing everything she had to say.

  Which was his second sobering thought in a very short period of time.

  It might have been smart to get dressed and leave after they’d eaten, but by then he’d been eyeing her mouth as she sipped her soda and laughed and pursed her lips, which of course made him remember how that mouth felt on him. Plus, the sash of her robe had loosened and he was catching glimpses of that supple body and the curves of her small, high breasts. He had to have her again.

  After that, he groaned, stretched and said, “Shit. I should go. I have an early morning tomorrow.”

  “Me, too.” Swinging her legs over the side of the bed and glancing over her shoulder at him, she didn’t sound like a woman who yearned for the man in her bed to stay the night. “I can’t be late for my first home visit. The mom has a new job, so I promised to be there by seven-thirty.”

  Inexplicably irritated, he began getting dressed. By the time he buttoned his shirt, leaving the tails out, she’d put on flannel pajama bottoms, a thin tank top and the robe as well as sheepskin slippers.