On My Knees: The Complete Series Box Set

by C. J. Thomas

  I lifted my arms, allowing him to raise the t-shirt over my head. “Beautiful,” he said again, before unbuttoning his shirt.

  I wanted to help him—I’d been waiting long enough to see his body, to feel him under my hands. I worked at his belt, then the fly of his pants.

  He didn’t say a word, only watching as I freed him from the confines of slacks and shorts. When his erection sprang free, I caught my breath. I knew a man with his confidence had to be well-hung, but I was still pleasantly surprised by his size. My mouth nearly watered and I glanced up at him while taking his length in my hand to stroke gently.

  “Oh, yeah,” he whispered. “Put it in your mouth. Let me watch you.”

  One good turn deserved another, and besides, something about the way he told me what to do set my engine in motion all over again. I always wanted a man to take charge in the bedroom. I could never find one to do it to my satisfaction.

  So I took him into my mouth, sliding down his length. I went slowly, teasing him as he’d teased me. He thrusted gently into me one, twice, and I held onto his hips to keep steady.

  “That’s it,” he muttered thickly. “Suck on it.” I moaned, shocked at how his words turned me on. My skin tingled, my nipples hardened, fire raged between my legs. He took a handful of my hair, holding on as he thrusted.

  He was so thick, so hard, and I was wet again at the sound of his little moans. He thrusted faster, then pulled out.

  “Lay down,” he growled, and I did as he asked before he climbed between my legs. “God, I need to have you, now.”

  I didn’t answer, only holding my arms out as I spread my legs to accept him. He positioned himself at my entrance, then entered with a loud groan.

  I could hardly hear him over my own mew of pleasure as he filled me. It was incredible. I closed my eyes, holding on to the sensation before he drew out and slid back in.

  “Oh, God,” he whispered, thrusting steadily. “You’re so wet. So hot.”

  I whimpered in approval as he took me, realizing in stunned surprise that this was Dan.

  Dan, who I’d known for so long, lusted after for so long, needed so badly even when I didn’t realize it.

  This was him, finally, after all that time.

  Better than I could have imagined.

  I explored him, taking even more pleasure in his body. The thick shoulders and arms, the broad back. I felt the muscles playing beneath his skin as he worked his way in and out of me, then slid my hands down to his ass, digging my fingers into the muscles. He gasped, then groaned, his pace increasing.

  “Yes!” I hissed, loving the way he slammed into me, his balls hitting me every time our bodies made contact. A steady fire burned higher and hotter with every thrust until I was nearly insane with pleasure as he took me higher and higher. I screamed softly, throwing my head back, gripping him with my arms and legs as I came again.

  He groaned tightly through his clenched teeth, holding on as my muscles squeezed him. Once I loosened up and calmed down, he rolled us over until I was on top. I gasped in surprise, but again loved the way he took what he wanted.

  I didn’t need direction, not with the sexiest man I’d ever known beneath me. I started to ride, slowly, taking him deep. I rocked my hips back and forth over him, grinding my clit into his pelvis, taking my pleasure while he watched.

  “That’s right,” he groaned. “Ride me. Make yourself come.”

  I whimpered, moving faster.

  His hands found my breasts and he squeezed, pinching my nipples until I cried out. He pulled me down, taking them into his mouth while my arms trembled along with the rest of my body. The combination of his mouth on me, sucking and licking, his hands kneading me, his length inside me, and the pressure on my clit was too much.

  I sped up, riding hard, crying out with every thrust until I was screaming, crying out his name in complete ecstasy as I shuddered in climax.

  I was sure I couldn’t take any more. I was positive. But the look in his eye and his still-throbbing length told me otherwise.

  And I wanted him.

  I didn’t want it ever to end.

  He pulled me off of him, laying me down again. This time, he took my wrists in his hands, holding them over my head with one hand while with the other he guided himself inside me.

  He didn’t take his time. He wasn’t gentle. He rode me hard, pummeling me with deep, sharp thrusts that pulled sounds from my throat I didn’t even know I could make.

  And I loved it.

  I reveled in it.

  Our mouths clashed, crushed against each other, tongues seeming to fight for control. He bit my lip, then sucked on it before plunging into my mouth again as he dipped into my depths. I pulled him closer, legs around his hips, urging him on and on.

  Nothing else mattered. We were the only two people in the world, taking pleasure in each other, driving each other crazy, giving in to the lust that had developed over years of flirtation and longing. It exploded like dynamite, and soon the room filled with both of our grunts and cries.

  “Yes! Yes! Give it to me!” I whispered frantically, my voice almost gone, pure passion tearing me apart in time with his thrusts. I jerked my hips upward to match him, his low growl egging me on. I loved the control he had over me, loved the way he took me and made me his. Nothing else mattered, nothing.

  I threw back my head one more time, giving in to another soul-shattering orgasm. He followed me a few hard, deep thrusts later.

  “Oh, God! Julia!” Then he groaned, nearly a roar, really. He threw his head back, veins showing in his neck, his body tensing as he finished. I felt the strange sense of power I always felt after making a man lose control that way—with Dan, it was somehow bigger, deeper, stronger. He always appeared to be in control. Driving him crazy was no small feat for my ego.

  He collapsed on top of me, breathing heavily into my neck. I held him close, kissing his ear, his neck, his shoulder. Grateful that we’d finally done it, after all that time.

  It felt like a turning point for both of us.

  The room was strangely quiet after all the noise we’d made, and I was almost afraid to move.

  What now?

  After all that time, we’d finally done it.

  The problem was, I didn’t know what to do next.

  He solved that problem for me by rolling over with a smile and chuckling softly. “Wow,” he murmured between gasps for breath.

  “Wow’s right,” I agreed, looking over at him. His naked body gleamed with a thin sheen of perspiration, highlighting his finely-chiseled muscles. I watched his chest rise and fall in time with his breathing.

  He reached out, his hand sliding over the sheets, finding mine. I breathed a sigh of relief when his fingers laced with mine. We stayed that way for a long time, side by side, catching our breath and smiling at each other every so often. It was more than enough.

  137

  Julia

  WE HAD JUST WASHED UP—SEPARATELY, to my chagrin, but I found when I got out of the bathroom that Dan had sneaked down to the kitchen to make something for us. I realized I’d never eaten dinner, which was funny considering how hungry I’d been before we got started on each other.

  We sat on the bed, munching on grilled salmon and salad. It was refreshing and delicious, and light enough that I’d still be able to sleep. I was exhausted, waves of fatigue washing over me. It was that nice, peaceful sort of fatigue, the kind you feel after a full day.

  Or after some outrageously hot sex.

  After eating, I slid out of the robe he’d given me and stretched out on the bed. Dan took me in with his eyes, and the appreciation I saw there left me blushing.

  Then he spoke. “I wanna warn you, my pillow talk is usually much better than this.”

  I giggled, turning onto my side so I could face him. “I’ll make a note of that,” I murmured.

  He smiled gently. “I got some news today, and I thought you should know about it. It might make you feel a little better, in a roundabout
way.”

  “Oh?” I pushed myself up on one elbow, curiosity overtaking me. “What is it?”

  “We got the toxicology report. There were no opiates in Emelia’s system. She never took those pills.”

  I couldn’t believe the relief I felt when he announced it. It was a strange sort of vindication, knowing I was right. Knowing Emelia wouldn’t do something like that to herself.

  Then I felt cold, too. Because I knew what it meant.

  “She was definitely murdered, then?”

  “That’s right. They found hemlock in her body.”

  “Hemlock?” I’d heard the word before, but only that it was dangerous. I knew nothing about it.

  “It shuts down the respiratory system.”

  “And it was in her body? Somebody gave it to her?”

  “It looks that way. She had no reason to take it, and there was no trace evidence of it anywhere in the apartment.”

  “Holy crap.” I turned his words over in my mind. So I was right. Somebody killed her.

  Poor Emelia.

  I felt the sting of tears behind my eyes, and my chin quivered. It was too much to take after the break-in—my interlude with Dan was incredible, but it didn’t erase the fear and vulnerability.

  “Come here.” Dan held out his strong arms and I went to him with a sigh. It felt so good to be held. There was nothing else to it, no desire or attempt at another go-round. Just comfort. Pure and simple.

  I fell asleep to the sound of his light, steady breathing and the slow, strong beat of his heart beneath my ear.

  138

  Dan

  WHEN I OPENED MY EYES, the first thing that came to mind was her.

  The next was how goddamned sore I felt from head to toe.

  I ran a hand over my face, trying to remember everything. Some of it was a blur, a literal dark blur of half-remembered feelings and sensations. There were times I didn’t know who was doing what to whom. Like I lost all control of myself. It had been exciting and dangerous and passionate.

  And a little scary, once I started thinking clearly again.

  Had I ever gotten so crazy before with any other woman? I thought back and decided no, I hadn’t.

  The room was completely still. I hardly wanted to breathe, afraid to break the silence.

  What would she expect, now? Breakfast? Early-morning cuddling?

  I grimaced at the thought.

  Finally, I dared turn my head just enough to look at her. The relief I felt when I saw how deeply asleep she was couldn’t be put into words. I smiled to myself. With her mouth slightly open, soft snores coming from her, she was the opposite of the cool, smart woman I was so used to. Seeing her like that only made me like her more.

  She was human, after all.

  I slid out of bed as quietly as I could, wanting her to stay asleep if possible. One thing I’d never gotten used to was “morning after” chitchat. It was always better to keep things simple.

  We’d had a great time—better than great. I still wanted to keep her safe. No need to add a bunch of uncomfortable conversation to it. That might make me regret having her stay here with me.

  The shower helped me get my brain unscrambled, which was a blessing. I waited until steam filled the room before stepping beneath the spray, the hot water relaxing my sore muscles. She was better than any workout.

  I couldn’t help thinking about her as I showered . . . as I shaved . . . as I brushed my teeth. Everything else fell by the wayside—even work, which was usually the first and last thing on my mind every day. If I did think about work, it was in relation to solving her break-in.

  I frowned over it as I went to my closet, almost tiptoeing through the bedroom to get there. She was still out cold, still snoring with her mouth open. A cloud of dark hair framed her face. I would have laughed if I wasn’t so afraid of waking her.

  I wanted to protect that girl, the one sleeping so peacefully. I wanted her to feel safe because she deserved it. A very large part of me wanted to be the person to make her safe.

  The cave man was at it again. He pounded his chest, insisting that he be the one to save her.

  It wasn’t enough for her to feel safe.

  I had to be the one to make her feel that way.

  How? And how to do it without anybody getting wise?

  I scowled when I thought of the way Frank would react when he knew how determined I was to help her. His nonstop horniness was bad enough—I could live with that. It was the professional concern he’d show that bothered me. I had to be smart.

  It would be smart to leave her alone.

  But there was no way I could do that.

  Was I falling for her?

  There was a leather stool inside the closet, where I’d sit to put my shoes on. I landed on it with a hard thud as the realization sank in.

  Shit.

  I’d been in love before; I knew all the signs. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, I broke my usual rules for her, she had the potential to make a fool out of me, yet I kept going after her.

  That was what it was. Nothing I could do about it. As uncomfortable as it made me, the idea of falling for her without knowing how she felt informed my determination to get to the bottom of her trouble.

  Hadn’t I always done that for her?

  I fastened my cuffs with a pair of silver cufflinks emblazoned with my initials, going over past events in my head. Hadn’t I always been so quick to drop everything if she needed me? No matter what I was working on at the time, if I got wind of her being in trouble, I’d forget everything until I knew she was okay.

  Maybe the way I felt about her started a long time before she ever shared my bed.

  I stood, straightening myself out before stepping into the bedroom again. I looked at her, leaning against the doorframe to take her in. I couldn’t keep myself from smiling—she was my match in every way.

  She could move in with me.

  I could keep her safe here.

  The thought gave me pause.

  No. I shook my head, scoffing. I could just imagine what my quiet, peaceful home would turn into with a woman living here—not just any woman, but Julia.

  Visions of bras hung up to dry over the curtain rods and drains clogged with her hair came to mind. Having to share closet space. Sitting on the couch, being forced to watch tearjerkers. Never being able to get a word in edgewise. Forever playing word games.

  No way I could have her living here. It would be better for both of us to make her feel safer in her apartment. Better to keep our lives separate.

  I might have known her for years, but we didn’t know each other. Knowing somebody and living with them were different things. I wouldn’t make the mistake so many of my buddies made, jumping into moving in with a woman on the spur of the moment.

  How many of them were happy? Not many. How many times had it worked out? Not many, if any.

  I wouldn’t do that to me, or us. I’d work that much harder to make sure she was safe on her own.

  Glancing at my watch, I realized how late I was running. Another reason I couldn’t have her living there—she’d hold me up all the time. I was a man of habit. I liked being punctual.

  Still, I couldn’t leave without saying anything. There was a notepad on the bedside table. I scrawled a quick message: Didn’t want to wake you. Take your time, get some rest, hang out all day if you want to. Be sure to call me before you go anywhere. I want to know you’re okay.

  I frowned a little when I read it—did I sound sincere enough? Would she dismiss my concern?

  I couldn’t wait around all day to perfect it, so I turned away before I could change my mind and left the bedroom. Once I reached the stairs, I didn’t feel like I had to be so quiet anymore. I hurried downstairs and straight out the door, intending to pick up breakfast on the way to the station to save time.

  I couldn’t help but imagine her in the house, puttering around in the kitchen, sitting out by the pool. As much as I wanted to hate the idea, I didn’t. She
looked natural, comfortable. Like my life had been missing something all along.

  Without my knowing it.

  I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, maneuvering my way through rush hour traffic, reminding myself there was more going on in my life than just Julia Mabel and her problems. I had to figure out what happened to Emelia. I had to make sense of the crime and close it to my satisfaction—not the captain’s satisfaction, not the public’s satisfaction.

  Mine. The toughest critic of all.

  139

  Julia

  WHEN I FIRST WOKE UP, I had no idea where I was. I jumped with that sick start that hits a person in the first moments in a new bed. My heart thudded hard, my stomach knotted. My eyes flew open as I panicked.

  Then I remembered. It all came back to me and I settled into the bed as it did.

  I was in Dan’s bed, in Dan’s room, in Dan’s house.

  I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Dan! I looked around the room.

  I was alone.

  I reached over to find his side of the bed cold. Where did he go? How long had I been alone?

  “Dan?” I hated the slightly nervous sound of my voice but I couldn’t help it. There was nothing like waking up all alone after a night like I’d had with him.

  What time was it? I looked around for a clock. Who didn’t have a clock in their room? My phone was still downstairs—I hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly the night before. I sat up, looking around for my clothes. I felt like I’d been run over by a truck. I guessed that was what the sort of sex we had would do to a person.

  I saw a note on the table by my side of the bed. When I read it, in Dan’s chicken scratch writing, I couldn’t help smiling and relaxing even further. He didn’t mind that I was here, even suggesting I stay around all day. It was flattering, and a relief.

  I read the note again, running my fingers over the paper. He pressed hard on the paper, leaving an impression with every letter. I traced them, smiling softly.