He could appreciate that. Books were always a way for him to escape a life he hated as a child. He’d hide for hours in the stories of books, and then one day he connected with his brother and didn’t need to hide. It still didn’t diminish his love of literature, but gave him a close friend to share his books with too. When they weren’t raising hell, they were reading all about it.
Whitefox noticed she’d changed. “You actually have a winter coat with tiny skulls on it?” He was grinning now. Something about this woman entertained him and fascinated him.
“Yes, I happen to like them. I collect kitschy clothing too. Obviously.” Then she paused and considered it. “Is this inappropriate for a crime scene? Sometimes I forget that not everyone sees the humor in an ME wearing a jacket with skulls.”
He laughed. “I think it’s just the opposite, Desdemona. They seem very appropriate to me.”
She chewed on her bottom lip.
“Is there something on your mind?” he asked, as he carried her suitcase to the door.
Desdemona wasn’t sure she could trust the man yet. In her past she’d noticed that men would betray easily, and she didn’t want to get burned. Something about the man made him likable and easy to talk to about things.
“We’re going to be partners on this assignment, so you can trust me and share anything you wish with me.”
It was like he read her mind. It freaked her out how astute he was with her.
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” Something happened in her life that made her this distrustful and worried about what people thought about her. That was blatantly obvious, and now he felt the need to heal it for her.
“Do you think that Director Blackhawk doesn’t like me because of what I wear to work?” She just spilled it, and hoped he wouldn’t tell her what they discussed. “If my work attire is the issue, I’ll wear the standard FBI attire to keep the peace between us.”
He looked confused at her words. “I don’t know why you think she dislikes you, Desdemona. In fact, she thinks you're smart and really good at your job.” It was truth; Elizabeth said those words, so it wasn’t betraying confidence. There was no way he’d tell the doctor that his sister-in-law was just as worried as she was about being liked. Protecting Elizabeth was priority one, she was his family and the love of his life.
“I just know that sometimes my clothing choices can be inappropriate. I just like whimsical, and when you deal with death all day long, you need to find happiness in something or you’ll lose your mind.”
Whitefox shrugged. “Elizabeth is pretty laid back about clothing. She doesn’t particularly like stuffy FBI attire.”
“I can tell.”
Whitefox didn’t tell the woman that Elizabeth could be very girly, and that she collected vintage nineteen fifties frilly aprons. It would shatter the illusion that she worked hard to promote that she was tough as nails.
Desdemona opened her front door and stopped moving. All the humor and joviality was sucked from her body is a quick vacuum when she saw it.
Shit!
“What’s wrong?” he asked, as he nearly walked into the back of her.
Desdemona Adare bent over and tossed the red rose that was laying on her stone steps over into the snow. “Nothing,” she answered, as she set the alarm, closed the door, and continued to the Denali.
Callen Whitefox saw the flower and immediately sensed her unease, and he was curious as to why. But now wasn’t the time. If he pushed, she’d clam up and he’d find nothing out. Sometimes it was best to just observe and go from there.
“We’d better get going,” she said over her shoulder. There wasn’t a worse time to have a flower show up, and there wasn’t a better time to have to leave the area. Her hand automatically went to her hip, where her ME badge and her gun sat clipped. Yeah, it was a very good time to head out into the field and escape for a little while.
When she hopped in, she saw the acknowledgement in his eyes, and knew that it would eventually come up again. Until it did, she knew it would sit between them like a weight. A man like Whitefox wasn’t going to let it go for long and already she could feel his questioning gaze, assessing her and the situation.
Whitefox started up the Denali and his smartphone beeped. “I have incoming messages. Can you see if they’re the case files that we’re supposed to use to be vetted?”
“Sure thing,” she answered cordially, taking the phone from his hand. As her fingers brushed his, she felt this tingle glide up her arm.
Callen watched her carefully. The woman was definitely hiding something. Poker faces obviously weren’t her strong point, and she looked like she was ready to jump out the car door.
“We’re partners Desdemona, and for now you can keep your secrets. But if it means keeping us safe, you’re going to have to trust me with them.” Then he focused on the drive. Whitefox wanted to shake his head. Something made him feel empathy for this woman. The idea that she had no one in her life to trust bothered him, because he’d been there once in life too. Before his brother returned, bringing him his new best friend, Elizabeth.
Desdemona didn’t want to like him, and she certainly didn’t want to trust the man. He was Ethan and Elizabeth Blackhawk’s brother, but something in her just wanted to have that one person she could confide in and maybe have as a friend. For so many years she’d been a loner, and all she wanted was the one thing that entirely eluded her.
A circle of people to call her own or just one to trust completely.
Desdemona Adare could figure out what killed someone, how their lives ended, and what caused it, but she couldn’t master the ability to fit into a group. It was so foreign to her and so out of her reach that she wasn’t sure how to make it happen. Even as a child she wasn’t really good at making friends. Now she wanted to learn, and wanted that as her new goal. All her life she set goals and met them. Yet with this one she felt panic.
What if she failed?
“Relax Desdemona.”
That was easy for him to say. He didn’t currently have a boss that hated him, a stalker chasing him, and the world’s sexiest man sitting two feet from his body, making him nuts. Desdemona tried to not breathe in the scent of his cologne, as she closed her eyes and prayed for some sort of control. Now she needed to control her brain, mouth and the rampant hormones that were telling her to do things she knew she’d regret.
Right then and there, she just knew the man was going to break her heart.
Elizabeth dropped more clothes into their suitcase. At one time in her life, when she was packing for an assignment there was just a small carry-on bag. She, like her husband, had been the job, but now they packed all their things together. It was nice to have found each other and work together as partners.
Blackhawk watched his wife from the doorway as she fastidiously arranged their things. It wasn’t lost on him that she was smiling at absolutely nothing. As she stood there getting their belongings ready for the trip, he couldn’t help but think she was still the sexiest woman in the world, and he was the luckiest man. He looked at his watch, and they had a few minutes to spend together. Once they were sharing a house with his brother and the ME, he wasn’t sure he’d get any alone time with her. Sneaking over to her, he wrapped his arms around her and left kisses on the side of her neck.
“Know what I like best about you being pregnant, baby?” he asked, as he did incredibly wicked things to her ear and neck.
“Mmmmm… no, what?” Elizabeth was trying to focus on the suitcase, but it wasn’t looking like it was going to happen. “That I’m easier to catch?”
He whispered something erotic and suggestive in her ear.
Elizabeth shuddered at the mere suggestion, and it still heated her blood that the world’s sexiest man still wanted her- even though she was pregnant and wobbly.
“That you’re easier to catch is helpful,” he said, spinning her around to face him, just before his lips met hers in a scorching kiss. He explored the depths of her mo
uth, as he searched, fought, and did battle with her for control. Deepening it, he was satisfied when she moaned in pleasure first. Just the sound made his entire body clench with need and incredible want. Before she could protest, he flicked open her belt buckle and pulled her even closer to his body.
“You know we have an assignment,” she whispered, as he did amazing things with his hands and mouth. “We should be getting ready to leave.”
Ethan stopped and looked down into her eyes. They were clouded with desire and pleasure, and not for one second did he believe she wanted him to stop. “I guess we can wait until the assignment is over, Elizabeth.” He started to release her and she grabbed him by the front of his shirt.
“I didn’t say we had to stop, Cowboy, and if you stop now, I’m going to get pissed!” She kissed him back and her hands travelled the same erotic path his had across her body. As she unbuttoned his shirt, the tattoos that she loved came into view and the heat that was deep within her body bubbled to the surface. “Love that tattoo,” she muttered, as she allowed her lips to leave a trail over the large raven tattooed on his chest. Her hands expertly freed him from his pants and boxers. “I think that my name under the raven gets me even hotter.”
“Good,” he answered, breaking the kiss and waiting while she finished undressing. Seconds felt like minutes as he got harder and harder. “I really think I need to have sex with my wife before I combust, so if possible can you get naked faster?”
She looked up grinning, and purposely slowed the entire process down.
“Baby, come on,” he muttered, his entire body was beginning to tense. “In three seconds, I’m coming at you and clothes will be destroyed.”
Elizabeth considered his words, and wondered if he’d actually do it. The look on his face spoke volumes, and she dropped the rest of her clothes, quickly.
“Come here,” he ordered, brusquely.
Elizabeth obeyed, jumping up and wrapped her legs around his waist and continued to kiss her husband like she was starving for him. Her hand was buried in his hair, and she wouldn’t let him break away. She couldn’t. The kiss was like a drug and she was an addict. The pregnancy hormones were definitely making her a sex manic. All she thought about was jumping her husband.
Ethan was her choice of addiction; her very sexy Native drug. “You know that not cutting your hair is fighting dirty,” she muttered into the kiss, as she buried her hands into the delicious silkiness that she loved.
“Had I known it would get me more sex with my wife, I wouldn’t have cut it since meeting you,” he replied, holding her wrapped around his body. “I’ll never cut it again.”
Elizabeth’s body tightened at the mere thought, and she dove deeper into the kiss.
“Bed now,” he practically growled, as he yanked the suitcase off and onto the floor and replaced it with his wife. Everything fell out in a pile. After laying her across their bed, he stripped off the rest of his clothing and dropped it to the floor in a frenzied rush to get free of the restraint.
Elizabeth watched him from the bed, her eyes admiring not only the fine male specimen her husband was, but the sexy tribal art that criss-crossed his body. Yeah, she just loved those tattoos more than words.
Just the way his wife watched him, the eyes full of greedy lust, and wanting to climb all over him made him crazy. There was something wildly alluring about his pregnant wife, as she lie on their bed, crazy wild hair spread out around her like a wave of silk. Just thinking about the way it would feel sliding across his body made him harder.
“Come and get me, Ethan,” she teased, wickedly.
There were days when he felt completely possessive and much like a cave man. Sex was always explosive between them, but now that she was pregnant with his child, he just wanted to own her and dominate. Desperation was driving him as he found himself fighting the need to just take whatever he wanted at that moment. It was like she was giving off some crazy pheromone that just made him want her that much more, and that much more often. In general, he was a man of rigorous control. Everything in his life was built on the premise that he was a Type A control freak, but lately because of his raven haired hellion he’d had none.
Her lush naked body called to him, and he focused on devouring her like some starved lunatic. He began kissing his way down her torso, paying attention to her already growing cleavage. Yeah, he absolutely loved this pregnancy thing. It meant a sexy wife with more curves, deliciousness and an increased sex drive. Ethan Blackhawk was pretty sure it didn’t get any better than this. As he focused on each nipple and teased her unmercifully she was driving him wild with her breathless pants.
“Ethan,” she begged, writhing beneath his mouth and wandering fingers. Now her husband had the last thing removed from her body. The panties were gone, and she would be at his mercy. “Please,” she begged. “I need you.”
“I can’t just yet. I need to savor this moment with my wife, I don’t know if I’ll have this moment again for days!” He said it with such possessiveness that it made him wilder and crazier. The mere idea that he’d have to be around her and not touch her was maddening. When he slid lower down her body and found the sweet spot, she moaned his name, and he was ready to explode right then and there.
The complete and total feeling of her husband tormenting her was enough to make her shatter into a million pieces, and still he continued to the point it was pain mixed with bliss. She couldn’t take it anymore and pulled him up her body, her hands buried in his hair.
When their mouths met again, she muttered into his mouth, “My turn, Ethan,” and she proceeded to have her fun. Nothing turned her on more than having her way with her sexy Indian warrior. There was just something about the tattoos, the tan skin, the sexy body, and the hair. God, she loved how he’d been letting his hair grow instead of keeping it clipped to his shoulders. As the strands slid across her flesh, it made her all hot and bothered. “Love your hair,” she whispered against his mouth, as she dove back into the kiss.
Like his tattoos, his hair reminded him of his past. Since finding his wife and coming home, he’d learned to relax into his heritage. Instead of running, he was embracing it, and now he was reaping the rewards. If he knew that his wife liked it this much, he’d start wearing feathers and war paint to get this response. Thank you Native roots!
Elizabeth was going to explode into flames if she didn’t taste him.
Blackhawk was breathing hard already, as he fought for control of his mind and body. Just devouring his wife, made him ready to lose it right there, but when she moved down his body and her hand wrapped enticingly around his erection, it took everything he had to not break apart.
“Too much control, Ethan,” she whispered, and then blew across his already rock hard erection.
“Baby, cut me a break,” he muttered, as she stroked him a few times, before laughing that bewitching laugh that made him want to just take her harder and faster.
Control.
He just needed to remember his wife was pregnant and rough wasn’t an option. The entire thought did the opposite. Pregnant wife made him harder, and then she found him with her mouth. Now he was thinking about her hot, silky, wicked wet mouth. Christ, this was a mix of bliss and torture all at once.
Elizabeth took her husband in her mouth and did all the things that she knew made him lose control. Lately their lovemaking was controlled, and she knew he was worried about the baby. Now she was going to teach him a lesson he wouldn’t forget. Elizabeth was going to take her husband, one way or another, making him lose complete and total control.
This was her new mission in life.
When she cupped him and stroked him with her mouth, he was in heaven, and when she added teeth he didn’t think he’d make it much longer, and then she did something she never did before. His wife began to hum, and just that alone caused the shaking in his body to begin.
“Oh God, Lyzee,” he mumbled, as he arched up to meet her mouth in forceful thrusts. It was like nothing he ever
felt before. “Killing me, I can’t hold out much longer,” he practically begged.
Elizabeth listened to the desperation in his voice, and knew she still had a few moments to enjoy tormenting her husband before he lost control completely. Then she heard the ragged breath, and his body stopped shaking. When she gazed up at him, she saw the pure unadulterated lust on his face and she just knew. Ethan Blackhawk was a man teetering precariously on the edge and about to lose control.
“Baby!” It was the only word he could get out of his mouth, as he pulled her up his body and rolled with her until she was beneath him.
“I want you, Ethan,” she spoke softly, opening for him. Her body welcomed him and lured him in with the promise of complete bliss and pleasure. “You can’t hurt me or the baby,” she whispered, giving him permission to relax and just enjoy the intimacy of the moment.
Once she gave him the words, he couldn’t think anymore. The instinct in him to claim his wife took control. All he knew was he had to have her, and he needed it now. It was beyond need, it was compulsion. Sliding deep into her body, she moaned and he couldn’t breathe. All he wanted was a rough ride, and he planned on it. Blackhawk was completely out of control, and once again, his wife pushed him there. As he felt her clench around him, his arms braced on either side of her, he began his invasion. It wasn’t gentle and it wasn’t easy. What he wanted and needed overcame his sense of protectiveness for his wife and unborn child. All he desired to hear was her begging and then screaming his name. The pure unadulterated lust was now in control, and he slid all the way in her body and then out. Then he slammed back into her and knew he wasn’t going to make it much longer.
“Ethan!” Elizabeth dug the nails of her one hand into his shoulder, and with the other pulled his mouth down to hers and plunged into the ecstasy. All she demanded was met and returned with equal need.
True Love Lost (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 3)) Page 7
