by Norah Wilson
They climbed the steps together. Her hand trembled, he saw, as she entered the code to unlock the door. Moving close behind her, he slid an arm around her waist and pulled her luscious derriere into contact with his stiffening erection. She went limp, leaning back against him. Grinning, he closed his hand over hers, turned the knob and pushed the door open.
They all but fell inside.
“The elevator,” she said, pulling him to the other side of the small, empty foyer. The speed with which she moved was gratifying.
“No doorman?”
“No.”
They stepped into the elevator, which looked altogether too modern for the old building. “Fast elevator?”
“Very,” she said, hitting the button for the fifth floor.
“Too bad.” He crowded her up against a mirrored wall of the elevator, skimming the sides of her breasts with his hands. “These mirrors are great.” He nipped at her mouth. “I’d love to lift that sexy dress and go down on you right here while you watched us.”
She made a mewling noise against his lips, which made him smile. Then the elevator lurched to a stop. He lifted his head. They appeared to be between the fourth and fifth floors. “You did that?”
She smiled the most carnal smile he’d ever seen. “Whoops.”
Hot damn. He’d intended that comment to heighten her excitement, never dreaming she’d call him on it. His own smile broadened. “No security camera?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.
“Just in the foyer.”
“No alarm downstairs when the elevator stops?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Better not waste time, then, huh?”
She touched her tongue to her upper lip. “Better not.”
He slid to his knees before her. She leaned back against the wall, bracing her backside on a wide wooden rail that he hoped was as functional as it was decorative. He skimmed his hands up her bare legs and under her skirt until he hooked her thong panties and drew them down. She lifted one booted foot obligingly and then the other. Sliding the scrap of black lace into his pocket, he pushed her dress up and urged her thighs apart.
And caught his breath.
God, she was lovely. And her scent…. He wished he could take all day. Some things just shouldn’t be rushed, and this most intimate of acts was one of them. But they’d stalled the elevator, so time was of the essence. It was a trade-off he could live with.
“Craig?”
Ah, there it was, his name on her lips at last. He’d thought she was still going to be calling him ‘Detective’ when he was inside her.
“Hold this,” he ordered, pushing the bunched up skirt against her belly. When she complied, he urged her legs further apart and used his hands to part the already swollen lips of her sex. “Beautiful.”
She shuddered at the mere tickle of his breath, making him smile again.
He leaned in and stroked her with the flat of his tongue, and she shuddered again. “Are you watching us?”
“God, yes!”
Then there were no more words — he because his mouth was otherwise occupied, and she because she seemed to have lost the power of intelligible speech. When he felt her reaching for release minutes later, he added his fingers to the mix, breaching her slick channel. She came almost immediately. A strangled sob escaped her even as her inner muscles contracted powerfully around his fingers.
When she stopped shaking, he climbed to his feet. “I really like your elevator.”
She laughed, brushing her dark hair back from her face. “Riding it will never be the same.”
“Good.” He pulled her too him and kissed her once, hard, then put her away. Any more contact than that, and this elevator would be stalled a helluva lot longer. “Let me see if I can get this contraption going again.”
* * *
Nita collected herself while he restarted the elevator. No small feat, standing pantiless in her elevator with the combined tastes of Craig Walker and her own fulfillment on her lips. Dear Lord, that was the wildest thing she’d ever done, and definitely the hottest! Why hadn’t she gotten him in bed six months ago?
Because you thought you had a career to protect. Men inevitably boasted of their conquests, and being a criminal defense lawyer, she’d be massively boast-worthy around the stationhouse. And if that happened, she’d lose face with these guys. And gals. Female cops would be even more brutal in their judgment.
And yes, maybe because she also had a heart to protect. She’d never met a man who could see into her like this one could. All he had to do was lock those eyes on her, and she felt like her deepest secrets were right there to be exposed.
And he was a big man in more ways than one. When he lost a round in court, which wasn’t often, he could let it go, unlike most of Fredericton’s finest. Instead of shooting her lethal looks, he’d just shrug, confident that if her client really was a bad guy, he’d have another chance to put him away.
No, he was altogether too attractive a package. But at the same time, he scared the hell out of her. He could swallow her up, if she gave him a chance. And no doubt he’d spit her back out when he was finished with her.
Of course, that was back when she thought she had a future to worry about.
She caught herself before she could slide further into self-pity. There’d be none of that tonight. Tonight was about seizing the moment and living it to the fullest. It was about completely filling her senses.
“Got it,” he announced.
The elevator lurched back into motion for a few seconds before stopping at the 5th floor. To Nita’s relief, the doors opened to an empty hallway, sparing them from facing Mr. Barnett with the unmistakable smell of sex wafting off them.
She dug out her key and led the way to her apartment. Again, she felt him close behind her as slotted her key in the door, but this time she managed to get it open under her own steam. He closed the door behind them and when she turned, he took her into his arms.
“Damn, I’m so ready for you,” he murmured against her ear.
Just like that, she was ready again, too. Her brain was full of signals transmitted by her breasts, by her belly, her skin. Every bit of her that came into contact with him screamed for more contact. For skin to skin contact. She pushed her hands beneath his jacket. “Get this off!”
He shrugged out of it. She heard it hit the floor and his arms came back around her.
“Better?”
“Much.” She slid her hands under his sweater, pushing it up. “But it would be better yet if you got this off, too.”
He stepped back and pulled the sweater over his head, tossing it to the floor.
Nita’s mouth went dry. She was no stranger to nicely toned chests, but they usually belonged to spare, compact men. The kind of safe men she dated. Aesthetes. Intellectuals. But Craig Walker’s chest…. She’d had a good idea he’d be heavily muscled; even the most civilized suit couldn’t hide that. But, oh God, he was so much more. And not gym-honed show muscles. These muscles meant business.
“You like?”
Maybe she should have been embarrassed to be caught feasting on him so openly, but after what just transpired in her elevator, and considering what was yet to come, maidenly vapors seemed pointless. “You’re not what I’m used to.”
“Too much brawn?”
“Too much everything.” She placed a hand in the center of his chest, where she felt his heart pounding as strongly as her own. “And the way I feel tonight, that might be just enough.”
Before she knew what he intended, he scooped her up in his arms, giving her a heart-jolting demonstration of what those muscles could do.
“Which way to the bedroom?”
“Down that hall and to the left.” Her heart thundered so hard, she could hear it in her ears. Hell, he could probably hear it. Maybe even feel it.
She’d left a lamp burning by the bedside, so there was no need to fumble for light switches. She expected him to lay her on the bed and come down on her
, crushing her to the mattress with his body. She wanted that desperately. Wanted him to forcibly drive every other thought from her mind with a ferocious onslaught. Instead, he set her back on her feet at the bed’s edge.
“God, you’re beautiful.” Catching her head, he fisted his hands in her hair and kissed her. The desperate edge of hunger was still there, but this time, the demand was subdued.
He was, she realized, putting control squarely in hands, giving her a chance to set the pace. Or maybe even to change her mind.
Oh, God, he hadn’t changed his mind, had he?
As if sensing her disquiet, he lifted his head a fraction, still holding her face close to his.
From this distance, his blue eyes seemed to see right through to her soul.
“Why did you call me?” he said.
The question took her aback. She touched her tongue to her upper lip in a gesture she hoped would distract him. “I should think that would be obvious by now.”
He smiled. “Honey, that was obvious from the first time we locked horns in the court room.”
“Thank you for reminding me. It must have been obvious for the jury, too. They gave
the edge to you.”
“You know what I mean,” he said, clearly unwilling to be deflected. “Why now? Why after all this time? Why after turning me down?”
“Because I got tired of fighting it. Because I had the most trite of epiphanies. Because life is short, and if I’m going to regret anything, I’d prefer to regret what I did, not what I didn’t do.” She tipped her chin up to look him in the eyes. “Is that good enough for you, Detective? Can we get on to the part where we’re naked?”
It must have been good enough, because seconds later, she found herself right where she’d yearned to be a minute ago, flat on her back in the center of her bed with Craig’s weight pinning her while he pillaged her mouth, her throat. And his hands! A large palm worked her right breast through her clothes, then skimmed down to grip her hip. With a groan, he moved over her, creating an unbearably delicious friction. When he started sliding down her body, her eyes snapped open? Surely he wasn’t….
He wasn’t.
He continued south to her boots, found the slide zippers and slid them off, one at a time, tossing them on the floor. She’d shrugged part way out of her jacket by the time he dispensed with her boots, and he helped her tug it off. The dress followed, over her head, then the lacy bra beneath.
“I knew it.” He sat back on his heels to look at her. “I just knew those nipples would be small and dark and just as gorgeous as the rest of you.”
Lying there with him looking at her like that, she felt gorgeous. “I did some imagining myself, but judging from the revelation I got when you took off your shirt, I might have … um … come up short.”
He laughed. “Time to find out how fertile your imagination was.”
He scooted off the bed, dug a condom from the front pocket of his jeans, then shucked the jeans, underwear and all.
Nita sucked in a breath. Jutting from a nest of dark hair, his cock was … magnificent. Her imagination hadn’t shortchanged him in the length department, but oh, baby, the girth!
And it was all hers.
She drew herself up on her elbows. “Are you going to bring that lovely thing over here, Detective, or do I have to come after it?”
He tossed her the condom. “Why don’t you come and get it?”
The heat in his eyes kicked the excitement in her belly up another notch. She scooted over until she sat on the edge of the bed. Gaze locked with his, she tore the wrapper off the condom. Then she dropped her gaze to his organ. Dear God, it was a thing of beauty. And the sooner she sheathed it, the sooner he could be inside her.
But first….
Craig steeled himself for her touch. The way her eyes had saucered at the sight of him damn near snapped his control. He was way too close to the edge for his liking. So why the hell had he tossed her the condom and invited her to put it on him?
Because you’re a masochist, Walker. Because it’s Nita. Because you still can’t believe you’re here and she wants you because — oh, Jesus!
Her hands were on him now, small and soft and elegantly feminine, right down to the white tips of her French manicured nails. His cock jerked in response, hardening to stone. Then she leaned forward. He could feel her breath on him, warm and exciting and oh, God, if only she would open those gorgeous lips and—
Ahhhh!
Even as he fantasized about it, she guided the head of his cock into her mouth, sealing her lips delicately over the glans. A tortured groan escaped him. In response, she took more of him into her mouth. For a moment, his world shrank to a few square inches, encompassing nothing more than his cock and the hot, wet section of her mouth. It was so … damned … good.
Oh, hell, too good.
“Nita!” He tangled a hand in her hair. “You have to stop, baby. I don’t … I can’t….”
She released him. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. But—”
“I know. Now come closer so we can get this thing on you.”
He obliged, holding his breath as she applied the condom and rolled it down his shaft. The moment it was in place, she scooted back to the center of the bed. He followed her down, lying beside her. In a gratifying display of eagerness, she tried to pull him atop her.
“Soon, baby.” She might think she was ready, but with his fuse being this short, he needed her to be more than ready.
For all her eagerness to get to the main event, when he kissed her, she subsided, apparently content to enjoy the play of lips and tongue. And for all his eagerness to get inside her, he wanted this, too. He’d fantasized about kissing that smart mouth of hers since that first day in the witness box. And a hundred times since. He poured all of that frustrated yearning into the kiss. She took it all and demanded more.
When she grew restless again, he palmed her breast, drawing a gasp from her. When he drew his fingers together to gently pinch and roll her stiffened nipple, she caught fire, straining against him.
“Please, Craig. Now.”
“Soon, baby,” he promised, then swooped to catch her nipple in his mouth. She whimpered once, and again when he used his teeth. Oh, Lord, that sound! It shuddered right through him. He wanted to draw it from her again and again and again. Every night. All night.
Lust hazing his brain, he rolled her under him, letting their lower bodies tangle while keeping his upper body propped above her. She splayed her legs, making a cradle for his aching cock. As her hands roamed his chest feverishly, he gazed down at her breasts, her flushed neck, her face, wanting to memorize exactly what she looked like at this moment.
“You’re so beautiful.”
Something flickered in her eyes. Then she closed them, shutting him out even as she slid her hands around behind him to squeeze his ass. “Please.” She undulated beneath him. “I’m ready. Don’t make me wait any longer.”
He didn’t.
He entered her slowly, carefully, gritting his teeth against the urge to seat himself fully. Still, it wrenched a sob from her. He froze. “Nita?”
“Oh, God, don’t stop!”
He drew out and pushed in a little further. The hot, wet clasp of her flesh was pure madness, inviting him to let go of all restraint, but he didn’t dare. She was so small, so snug … so fucking hot!
Despite himself, he rocked into her a little harder.
“Yes! Yes!” She arched up, trying to take more of him.
Control gone, he surged into her, burying himself to the hilt. She cried out again, but there was no mistaking her approval. Needing no further urging, he started to move against her, fucking her with along, slow strokes, pulling out almost all the way only to push home again. For long moments, there was nothing but sound of sex, the slap of flesh against flesh, the harshness of their breathing. His excitement rose higher, coiled tighter. When she begged for more, he gathered her close, switching
to a grinding, purposeful, insistent rhythm. Beneath him, she made that whimpering sound again and angled her hips in an effort to maximize the friction against her clitoris. He thought about how she’d tasted in the elevator, how her legs had trembled when he’d licked and sucked that sweet bundle of nerves.
Ahh! Dammit, he shouldn’t have gone there.
“Oh, Christ, Nita. Come on with me, baby. Come for me.”
Even as he said it, he realized she didn’t need any urging. She was already flying apart, her internal muscles clamping him like a vise, rippling. He let go, pumping into her mindlessly until his climax exploded.
Chapter 3
Five minutes later, Nita stood under a hot spray of water in the shower.
While other women talked about afterglow, she’d never been able to lie more than in a minute in bed before needing to jump up and shower. She’d long ago stopped worrying about what that compulsion said about her and just accepted it. And it had suited the men she’d dated just fine. They usually took the opportunity to dress so they could kiss her goodbye when she emerged from the bathroom, and they both went to bed happy, each in their own homes.
But this time, with Craig Walker’s muscled arm slung across her midriff and one powerful leg still tangled with hers, she hadn’t wanted to pull away. She’d wanted to burrow closer. She wanted to touch his face, inhale the scent of his skin, feel the springy texture of his hair beneath her fingers. Hell, she wanted to crawl inside his skin.
Naturally, she’d immediately leapt up and headed for the bathroom.
What the hell was wrong with her?
What’s wrong with you, Reynolds? You’ve got a tumor in your head that will probably kill you, with or without surgery, in a matter of months, and you’re wondering what’s wrong with you because you wanted to be close to someone for a few minutes?
No, not someone. Craig Walker.
A draft of cool air warned her that she wasn’t alone in the bathroom any longer, so she was neither shocked nor startled when he drew back the shower curtain and stepped into the shower with her. Yes, she thought, stepping back to make room for him. God, yes.
