Mike couldn’t believe her audacity. But damn her, she was right. Experience had taught him a thing or two, and there was nothing enhanced about Tori. “If you don’t want to draw a crowd, we’d best be takin’ this inside.”
She grinned. “Don’t trust yourself, huh?”
“It’s you I’m worried about. First, you want me to feel you up out in the hall. Next thing I know, you’re gonna start takin’ your clothes off, tellin’ me you’re into voyeurism.”
“Shut up.” She laughed as she pushed his hand away. “You and I both know you’re the one who won’t be able to control yourself.”
“Whatever.”
He feared she may be right, but he would never give her the satisfaction of admitting how much he wanted her. If she expected tonight to be fun and playful with sexy banter to keep her on her toes, he’d be more than happy to oblige. It was better than worshipping her the way the other men in her life seemed to.
“Have you got anything to drink?”
“You invitin’ yourself to spend the night?” He wouldn’t risk his pride by admitting how much he was hoping she’d say yes.
“I told you before, I could drink you under the table on my worst day.” Her eyes wandered over his body. “I got a couple of brothers just about your size and I make ’em cry like little girls every time we play a drinkin’ game.”
“Let’s go into the kitchen, see what I’ve got.” He wasn’t planning on letting her leave his place if so much as a drop of liquor passed those sweet lips. He reached into his liquor cabinet and found the Jack Daniels before lining up two highball glasses on the counter.
“Now we’re talkin’,” she said, rubbing her hands together.
He poured a splash of liquor into one of the glasses and reached into the fridge.
“That’s okay; you don’t have to water mine down, hon. I like it straight up.”
“So do I.” He pulled a bottle of ginger ale out and filled the other glass.
“You’re not gonna join me?”
He threw back the shot and smiled in spite of the burn. “Ah, just what I needed.”
She scowled at the glass of ginger ale. “What the hell are you tryin’ to pull?”
“Since you’re drivin’ home, I can’t let you drink, darlin’. Sorry.”
She practically growled her displeasure. “I told you I’ll be fine,” she said between clenched teeth.
Mike shrugged. “That’s not a chance I’m willin’ to take. If you wanna drink, you need to hand over your keys.”
“I just remembered why I don’t date cops.” She stalked into the living room. “I think y’all took an oath to quit havin’ fun along with that oath about servin’ and protectin’.”
He caught her off guard when he came up behind her and pulled her back against his chest. “I am protectin’… you. Now, how ’bout a little service?” He nipped the back of her neck and smiled when he felt the thrill bumps rise on her arms. “Ah, I think I’ve found a sensitive spot.” His tongue caressed the spot his teeth had found before she turned it around on him by pressing her back into his arousal.
“You’re not as cool as you’d like me to believe, Lieutenant.”
When he felt her hand snaking around to grab her fill, he seized her wrist. He was not going to let her call the shots, not tonight.
Tori was trying hard to act like this was nothing new to her, engaging in a one-night stand with a sexy stranger. Not that Mike was a stranger exactly; they’d known each other for some time, but never like this. He’d made it clear that he could barely tolerate her… until tonight.
“You’re not gonna make this easy on me, are you, Mike?” His name felt foreign on her lips. She’d gotten so used to calling him “Coop” or “Lieutenant,” because she knew it irked him. Calling him by his given name felt so much more intimate somehow.
He licked a path up her neck. “You don’t want me to make this easy for you, sugar.”
She knew she should reprimand him for trying to sweet talk her with endearments, but she couldn’t find the words when he was busy distracting her with that sinfully skillful tongue.
Tori didn’t know when things had changed, but sometime between his first and last drink, he’d decided he wanted her, and even though she knew he wasn’t stone cold sober, she couldn’t help but take advantage of the situation to get what she’d been wanting for a long time: him.
Ever since she’d won that competition, people treated her differently, as though she was untouchable. They pandered to her like she deserved preferential treatment, and she hated it. The only person who’d acted as though she was the same girl who used to sing in the church choir and embarrass her brothers at target practice was the sexy lieutenant with the killer smile.
She shivered when he pulled her tank top over her head and tossed it to the floor. So much for playing it cool. She knew he believed the gossip rags that glorified her sexual escapades, trying to prove to the conservative country music buying public that change was on its way and she was spearheading the campaign. Tori didn’t know how she’d earned the reputation as a beer drinking, man-eating, gun-wielding, poster child for country singers gone wild, but somehow she had, and Avery suggested playing it up, making it her brand.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispered, skimming his big hands over her curves.
Tori knew she wasn’t tall, stick thin, or ripped, like most of the women he dated. She was small, curvy, and soft. And she wouldn’t trade her body for any one of theirs.
Mike reached for the button on the front of her white cut-offs and she couldn’t have contained her sharp intake of breath for anything.
This was really going to happen. After years of teasing, taunting, and verbal lashings, they were finally going to surrender to the sexual tension that had been simmering between them since she caught her first glimpse of him in his father’s pool. That black, low-slung swim suit… those rock hard abs, broad shoulders, and smattering of hair covering his massive chest became the standard by which she’d judged every man since. She’d dated an athlete, singer, race car driver, and even a professional boxer, but none compared to the man standing behind her, driving every thought of self-preservation out of her head with his gentle touch.
His hot breath felt like a caress on her sensitized skin when he said, “God help me, I can’t remember the last time I wanted a woman this much.”
Tori allowed her eyes to drift closed, knowing it was the only way she had a prayer of surviving this night without saying or doing something she’d regret tomorrow. He made her feel things she had no right to feel, made her want to say things she’d never said before. She wasn’t the type of woman who expected flowers or poetry from the man in her life. She was a straight shooter, and she expected any man who parked his boots under her bed to adhere to the same code.
Her family and music were her life, in that order. Her friends were a close third. Give her a noisy, crowded honky-tonk that played King George on a Saturday night, and she was a happy woman. Her needs were simple, and she sure as hell didn’t need a cop with a God complex trying to complicate things.
Sex, this was just about great sex. She repeated it over and over again like a mantra. Praying her subconscious would eventually get the message and quash all those crazy thoughts of breakfasts in bed and late nights curled up on the couch watching an old movie in his arms. She didn’t want or need a relationship with a man like Mike. She liked her men wild and a little crazy, not guarded and suspicious.
Mike slid her shorts over her hips and turned her into his arms. “Let me look at you.”
The appreciation in his eyes helped to restore some of her usual bravado, making her believe that maybe, just maybe, she could slip between his sheets while keeping her protective armor safely intact.
His eyes devoured her, burning through the black demi bra and thong decorated with tiny red hearts.
Tori expected him to laugh when he caught a glimpse of her lingerie. Hearts and cute little cupids we
ren’t usually her thing, but every once in a while she liked to surprise people by doing or saying the one thing they least expected. “What? No smart-ass remarks?”
He traced the black lace with his fingertip. “Honey, I’m not thinkin’ about this.” His finger grazed the swell of her breast. “I’m itchin’ to get my hands on these.”
She lowered her head and watched the sensual play of his fingers drawing figure eights on her sun-kissed skin. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be a self-absorbed lover who only cared about his needs. He wasn’t supposed to touch her reverently, like she’d blessed him just by walking into his life.
“Aren’t you gonna take that off?” she asked, when his fingers paused over the little rhinestone encrusted closure at the front of her bra.
“Relax,” he whispered before licking his lips. “I want to enjoy every single second of this.”
She wanted to scream at him to just get it over with already. She knew the anticipation of feeling his hands and mouth on her, imagining him stretching her, filling her, taking her to the brink of crazy and back again, was escalating this fantasy to something reality couldn’t possibly touch.
Just when she thought he was ready to take it to the next level, he did the unthinkable. He threaded his hands through her hair, cupped the back of her head, and made sweet, slow love to her with his mouth until she was a whimpering mass of need that’d lost the ability to support her own weight.
When he finally pulled away, his eyes were glazed, and he looked as stunned as she felt. “Jesus, girl, what the hell are you tryin’ to do to me?”
Tori knew she definitely wasn’t the culprit, not tonight. She enjoyed using her sex appeal to taunt men as much as the next girl, but she couldn’t have engaged in that dance with Mike even if she’d wanted to. He was leading, and for the first time in her life, she was happy, no, make that ecstatic, to follow.
Trying to restore some sense of balance to the equation, she reached for the hem of his T-shirt and hauled it over his head. Bad idea. If she thought seeing this man shirtless was going to help her equilibrium, she was delusional. No man had the right to look this good. “Damn,” she whispered, gliding her hands over his massive chest. “You don’t play fair.”
“I’m not playin’, baby.”
The way he said baby made the thrill bumps rise on her skin again. No man had ever been able to arouse her with sweet endearments or deep, probing kisses before. She was almost afraid of what might happen when they finally made their way to his bedroom.
“Mike, please, I want…” She reached for his belt buckle, stopping herself just short of begging him to make love to her. She wasn’t that desperate, was she? Who was she kidding? She’d been that desperate ever since he walked into his father’s house with another stunning brunette on his arm tonight. Fortunately, within minutes of talking to his date, Tori realized it was Mike’s twin, Jay, the woman had her eye on, which left the playing field wide open for Tori to make her move.
“You wanna know what I want?” he asked, reaching for her hands. “I want to lay you down on my bed and lick and kiss every inch of your incredible body. I want to make you cry out my name when you…” Instead of finishing his thought, he tipped her head back as his mouth came down on the smooth column of her neck.
Tori let her hands fall limply to her sides as his tongue worked its magic. She felt the heat flow through her, pooling in her erogenous zones as though that had been his target all along. “Oh God, Mike… I…” She didn’t know what to say, how to say it. The only thing she knew for sure is that she’d be content to surrender her body to his expert touch a day past forever.
He picked her up and carried her down the narrow hallway toward the master bedroom as he continued to nip and taste her warm flesh in a crazy, random sequence that had her panting and digging her short nails into his shoulders.
She watched him as he set her down on the king-sized bed and peeled his jeans off to reveal black boxer briefs. Every inch of his body was as impressive as his well-developed chest, not that she was surprised. Lieutenant Mike Cooper would inspire sculptors to create a work of art that would rival Michelangelo’s David.
“Should I be glad you decided to let loose and have a few drinks tonight?” She stretched her arms over her head and tried not to react as he stripped the rest of his clothes off. Drooling would definitely not be appropriate, but damn, she was sorely tempted.
“Baby, this has nothin’ to do with the liquor.” His eyes feasted on her near-naked body before he said, “This was inevitable… we both know that. We just have to scratch this itch before it drives us both crazy.”
That’s all this was to him, satisfying an urge, scratching an itch, as he so eloquently put it. Any romanticized notion she’d had about being different or special flew out the window as his harsh reminder brought her crashing back down to earth.
Mike silently cursed himself for being so insensitive. He’d wanted to remind her that this was just sex, nothing more, but he hadn’t intended to hurt her feelings. The truth was, he was trying to convince himself as much as her. He’d had sex plenty of times, but touching a woman had never made him feel like this.
Tori Warner, this sexy, sassy little package with the raspy voice and bedroom eyes, scared him more than any gun-wielding maniac he’d ever encountered. On the job, he knew exactly what to do, how to diffuse any situation, but surrendering to the need that had been building in him since he’d laid eyes on her was a whole different kind of danger.
She released the clasp on her bra and raised her finger to beckon him closer.
“Sweet Jesus,” he whispered. He hadn’t intended to say that aloud at the mere sight of her full breasts, but he couldn’t help himself. No silicone infused, bottle blond model or actress he’d dated in the past had ever been able to bring him to his knees with the mere promise of taking him on that elusive journey to ecstasy.
She tipped her legs open and licked her lips as her eyes traveled the length of his body.
His cell phone chose that moment to buzz and he muttered a curse. It could be the station. There could be a break in one of his cases, but his suspect would have to wait because this couldn’t.
“Aren’t you gonna get that?” she asked, hooking her thumbs inside of her lace thong before sliding it down her legs.
He was speechless as he watched her bare herself to him. “No.” His voice was little more than a broken rasp as he crawled over her. “I don’t care who it is or what they want. The only thing that matters right now is this… you.”
She moaned and lifted her shoulders off the bed, hinting as to what she expected.
Mike licked and kissed her breasts like a man on a mission, which he supposed he was. His mission was to give her more pleasure than she’d ever experienced in another man’s arms. More pleasure than she could ever hope to experience again. This may be little more than a one-night stand, but he intended to make sure it was one that would live on in her memory forever. He didn’t know why it was so important to him that he stand out amongst the myriad of men decorating her arm in those glossy magazines, but it suddenly felt imperative that he carve out a place in her heart that belonged to him and only him.
Tori threaded her hands through his hair, holding his head captive against her breasts. “Yesss… God, I never thought this would be enough to… Mike…”
That was his objective, to hear the sound of his name on her lips as she came apart in his arms. Nothing had ever sounded sweeter, and he knew he’d be hearing that echo every time his head hit the pillow for weeks, maybe months.
“I need you,” she whispered, pushing against his shoulders. “Please… now…”
He was just getting started. There was so much he wanted to do to her, with her, for her… “Relax.”
“No!” She groaned. “I can’t relax. Not until you… please…”
Mike loved that he was making her as crazy as she was making him. There were no words, and he knew they didn’
t need them as long as their bodies could convey everything they were thinking and feeling.
He reached into his nightstand and grabbed a foil packet.
She watched him tear it open with his teeth, reaching for him as soon as the latex barrier was in place.
He came down on top of her, careful to brace his weight on his forearms. For the first time, he thought about the fact that she was probably the smallest woman he’d ever been with. It was easy to forget that she was such a little bit of a thing, since her smart mouth more than made up for her physical stature.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
There was nothing he wanted more than to experience that elemental connection with her as he filled her, claimed her, made her his. She tasted sweet, like liqueur, and he found he couldn’t get enough. It was easier than it should have been for him to breach that barrier and he knew it was because she was so aroused that her body was making it easy for them to come together.
She gripped his shoulders and held him tight as she tore her mouth away from his. “Oh my God…”
He wanted to shut his mind off and let his body take over, but he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. “You okay, baby?”
“It’s not supposed to feel like this.”
He pulled back, trying to get a read on her expression. If he was hurting her, he wouldn’t hesitate to pull out, but he knew it would take every ounce of his self-control to do the right thing, because he’d never wanted anything more than he wanted to make love to her in that moment. “Tell me what you need me to do.”
“Make love to me,” she whispered. Their eyes locked and he knew she was asking him to let go of the pretence that this was just about sex. She wanted him to take that leap of faith with her.
He stopped thinking about black or white, right or wrong, and just let go, surrendering to the need that was gripping him in a fierce fist, refusing to allow him to retreat until he’d pushed past the boundaries of control that had been dictating his life for the past thirty years. She was right there with him, urging him on with her soft pleas until his need for her stole his breath and infiltrated every pore of his body.
Careless Page 2
