by Lacy, Shay
He covered her breasts with both hands. There was no fumbled groping. This Charlie knew how to handle a woman. “These want to come out to see me, don’t they?”
“Oh, yes.”
Charlie dipped his hands into her tight bra. Juliana sucked in her breath. As soon as his fingers brushed her nipples she gasped.
“Easy.” His fingers stroked her aching nipples.
Juliana groaned. She strained into his touch. He rubbed harder. She gripped his biceps.
“Harder, Charlie.”
For a moment the pressure increased, then he exclaimed with frustration. “It’s difficult with this bra.”
“Here.” She moved her hands to her shirt.
But Charlie stopped her. “This is my fantasy.” He dipped his hands back into her bra and released her breasts.
Juliana sighed with relief as Charlie covered her breasts with his hands. She stood on tiptoe so he could have better access. He thumbed her nipples until she groaned.
“You should see how you look,” he said, his voice husky. “Your breasts are beautiful. They’re fuller than they were.”
“I’m a late bloomer.”
“I love how they feel.” Charlie rubbed her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.
Juliana’s panties were soaked, her pussy clenching in anticipation.
“I need to taste them,” he rumbled.
“Yes!”
Charlie gently pushed her on the bed and then followed her down. He eased his body between her legs. Then he took her left nipple into his hot mouth and suckled. Juliana cried out. He pressed his cock against her aching cleft. She thrust her body against him.
He was skilled with his mouth and his hands. Neither of them had known what to do back then. Now they did, although she wished they’d learned together.
She writhed with pleasure, arching her back to force her breast deeper into his mouth. He obliged by sucking hard. She thrashed her head. Her nails gripped his shoulders. He flicked and pinched and nipped her nipple. He rubbed his cotton-covered penis repeatedly across her aching body.
Tension gripped her lower belly. Her nipples throbbed. Pleasure streaked to her pussy. She ached. Her orgasm built. She cried out and pressed herself to him until the pleasure released her.
Juliana looked up into Charlie’s eyes. Only a narrow ring of bright blue remained.
“I need to get a condom.”
She nodded, although she didn’t want him to leave her.
Charlie climbed off the bed and bent down for his jeans. What those black cotton briefs did for him was pure sin.
He turned and stopped, staring at her. “My God, you look so hot.”
He stripped off the black briefs. His cock was full and thick with arousal. Tearing open the package with violent motions, he sheathed himself. Here was another difference from that first time. Protection hadn’t even entered their minds.
Charlie climbed on the bed between her legs. Juliana opened wide to receive him. When he leaned down, she made a sound of protest. She still had her panties on!
But Charlie’s head kept descending and she realized he meant to kiss her. Shock kept her pliant under his warm, firm lips. She’d never kissed him before. They’d tried to have sex as teenagers, too eager for the act to savor the preliminaries.
Tonight she hadn’t expected . . . well, she’d expected to get laid.
His lips felt so marvelous against hers she had to respond. She’d never had a kiss feel this wonderful. She threw herself into it wholeheartedly, gripping Charlie’s back, and ate him up like a greedy girl with an ice cream cone. Chocolate mint. He ate her, too. His tongue licked hers like a lover’s stroke. They kissed until they were both breathless.
Charlie broke away to demand, “Who taught you how to kiss like this?”
“You did. Just now.” Juliana dragged him back for more.
He sucked her down into a vortex of exquisite wonder. His mouth was a pleasure land, his lips instruments of seduction.
“We have to do this,” he gasped. “I can barely hold on.”
“Make love to me, Charlie.”
He nearly tore her panties off. Then he was back and she felt his hot flesh against her. She raised her hips and in one exquisite plunge he filled her. Juliana went rigid, gasping. Her entire body tingled with her “finder” senses. What the hell? She gripped him to her hard and ignored the psychic sensation.
“Don’t move,” she begged. He felt so right inside her.
“Did I hurt you? Were you a virgin?” Charlie’s voice rose with incredulity.
“No. I’m all right, and I wasn’t a virgin. Just hold still.”
Charlie froze. His body tensed. “What is it?”
“We fit perfectly.” She heard the amazement in her voice. But he filled her like none of her other lovers had. She was gripped with the feeling of rightness, of coming home.
“You feel so good I gotta move.” Charlie sounded like he was in pain.
Juliana wanted to move, too, so she did, raising her hips to his until her mound was pressed hard to his pubic bone.
He groaned with pleasure. He began slow, but soon it wasn’t enough, and his thrusts grew hard and urgent. Juliana thrust with him.
The tension built and built, until she couldn’t take any more. She came and cried out. Charlie groaned hoarsely and came with her. Pressed flesh to flesh, she felt their union couldn’t be more perfect.
They collapsed and lay gasping.
Charlie kissed her. “I wish we’d done this back then.”
Juliana had thought the same when they started. But she knew the truth now. They couldn’t have. Charlie had to be lost in order to find this.
CHAPTER 3
Juliana searched Charlie’s belongings while he slept. She turned out every pocket and touched every item in them, but nothing made her hands tingle.
Her psychometry reacted only when she touched him.
“Looking for clues?” His groggy voice came from the bed.
Juliana jerked, but then finished what she was doing. She worked with cops, and was a cop’s daughter. It was in her blood to be thorough. “I’m just checking.”
Charlie sat up. The red sheet pooled in his lap. He looked damn sexy. “You don’t believe my story?”
“What story? You didn’t tell me anything.” She found his wallet, opened it, and looked through his cards. His driver’s license and P.I. license were California issue. “Nice photos.”
“That’s a pretty nice pose yourself.”
Juliana wore only her plaid skirt and knee socks. He’d stripped off her blouse and bra the second time they’d made love. She knew kneeling by his clothes was provocative, but she hadn’t planned it. Her naked loins tingled and ached for his touch and penetration. Her nipples pearled.
She tried to concentrate even with the heat of his interested gaze on her. His Screen Actors Guild card was tucked away in one of the pockets. Why did he keep it, unless private investigating was just something he was playing at for a while? He’d been like that as a youth. Every few months he wanted to be something else—pirate, pilot, superhero. But he always returned to acting.
Behind that card was an old photo of him and her. They must have been eight or nine. They had their arms around one another and were mugging for the camera. They looked so young and happy together. Her throat felt tight. Why did he keep this photo with him? You’ve got more than one.
She shook off her surprise and concentrated on the task at hand. “What are you really up to, Charlie?”
“Oh, about eight inches.”
Juliana looked. She couldn’t help it. The sheet tented in his lap. She licked her lips. Her pussy clenched. “I mean what are you doing here in Miami?”
“You mean besides living out my fantasies?”
She nodded, unable to speak.
“I’m tracking a stolen item for a client.”
“Why not ask the police for help?”
“And risk losing my finder’s fee? No
thanks.”
Juliana tucked his wallet back in his jacket. It was finely made, good material, great tailoring. It must have cost a lot of money.
“What was stolen?”
“An object.”
“Don’t play with me, Charlie. I’m serious.”
“I assure you I’m deadly serious about what I’m going to do to you.” As he rose from the bed the sheet slipped from his body, exposing his erect cock.
He stalked over to her. She stayed on her knees, no longer questioning him. She wanted him again. When he knelt behind her with his hand on her back, she lifted her bottom to him.
“You don’t know what you do to me in this skirt.” But as he pressed his hard erection inside her, filling her completely, she knew what she did to him.
• • •
Charlie woke with his arms wrapped around a woman and his body spooned so tight against hers his soft cock was inside her. It took only a moment to identify her as Juliana, and instantly his cock hardened and he wanted her again. But he had work to do and not much time to get it done.
Had she been another woman, he could have taken her quickly and eased the burning ache in his cock. But with Juliana he needed more time. It was almost the hardest thing he’d ever done to pull out of her. She murmured a protest, and he nearly succumbed to her lure once more. But her clock showed it was two-fifteen in the morning. He had to talk to Carlos at that bar the hooker had named, and it was nearly closing time.
Charlie dressed quietly and left Juliana’s bedroom, giving one last glance at the nude woman barely covered by the red sheet. God, she was beautiful with her long hair tousled by their lovemaking. Anyone looking at this scene would be able to tell she’d been well and truly loved. And yet he still wanted her.
He drove away wishing he had more time in Miami to explore the many facets of Juliana. The sexual ones alone would take weeks. For the umpteenth time tonight, he wished her father hadn’t interrupted them all those years ago. They’d have been lovers throughout high school. Then he wouldn’t have spent those final years lonely and aching for her.
She’d lived next door to him for ten years, and he hadn’t seen her as anything more than his playmate and best friend. Then she’d gotten breasts, and Charlie could hardly think of anything else, not even acting. Right now he was having the same problem. If he turned his car around, he could go back to Juliana’s bed and sate himself a few more times. She wouldn’t argue.
There was something different about her; something ethereal that hadn’t been there when she was a teenager.
Charlie made a quick stop at his hotel to change and pick up his other business cards, the ones that proclaimed him a Hollywood promoter. Thank God he hadn’t had them on him when he’d been arrested; otherwise, he would have had a harder time convincing the cops. There were times when pretending he had Hollywood connections opened doors that being a P.I. didn’t.
He had to find the sculpture and get back to California before the memories in this town overwhelmed him. And making love to his childhood friend and teenaged crush wasn’t helping. It reminded him of how he’d felt the first time someone he’d loved was ripped from his life.
After Sergeant Sanchez had sent Juliana away, Charlie had tried not to moon over her absence. But Rick had teased him without mercy. Luckily his oldest brother, Michael, had already moved out. Only Billy had seemed to understand the depth of hurt Charlie kept hidden. He needed her, not just his best friend. His body ached for what she’d promised him, which was his and his alone. They’d agreed to initiate one another into adulthood, but it hadn’t happened.
And someone else had gotten to Juliana first. Charlie’s hands curled into fists. He tried to remind himself they were nothing to each other now. They hadn’t been best friends in years. They’d fulfilled their unkept promises three times tonight. They owed one another nothing more. They’d both go on to other lovers, and Juliana would marry someone and have his children.
The world went black around him, and a familiar pain gripped his chest, the sense of loss overwhelming. He didn’t deserve Juliana. He should be happy with the hours they’d shared in her bed. The memories would have to be enough.
Ruthlessly he squelched his desire. He’d become an expert at doing that. He had a sculpture to find.
• • •
Juliana could tell her father knew about last night’s masquerade when he called her at eight in the morning.
“Juliana, I want you in my office in one hour.” His tone was curt.
She sighed. “Yes, sir.”
A dial tone was his reply.
She replaced the receiver and glanced at the other side of the bed to find it empty. There were no sounds in her apartment, so she knew Charlie had gone. She felt . . . disappointed.
Another sigh escaped her. He’d gotten what he’d wanted. She had to be honest with herself—it was what they’d both wanted. She’d been a more than willing participant last night. In fact, she’d like to make love with Charlie a few more times—like now.
She felt the sheet where Charlie had lain and found it cool to her touch. He’d been gone for hours.
Well, no sense mooning over his loss. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up, wincing. That last time had been vigorous to the point of being rough. And she’d loved it.
Juliana rose and headed for the shower. The warm water leached the sensual aches from her body and washed his scent away. But as she studied her naked form in the mirror afterward, she knew nothing could eliminate the whisker burns, the rug burns, the bruises from his fierce hold and the—heaven help her—honest-to-God hickey on her neck. She touched it. When had Charlie done that?
The man had been insatiable. They’d wasted all those hours from the moment she hit puberty when they could have been having mind-blowing sex.
Juliana masked the marks of Charlie’s passion the best she could. Her long hair hid most of the hickey, and a long lightweight skirt covered her knees. She didn’t like appearing before her father with marks showing. But if he knew about Charlie . . . well, what of it? She was twenty-nine, not sixteen. He didn’t have any say in her love life.
Still, she had to take in a deep breath and pull her shoulders back before she stepped into Captain Sanchez’s office.
“Shut the door,” he ordered.
She took this time to swallow. She’d known she was being stupid last night.
Juliana sat in the padded chair in front of his desk and tried not to fidget while he looked her over. Her father was a big man, wide shoulders to go with his six-foot-four frame. He’d let his liberally salted black hair grow out a little and now he swept it back from his forehead. The longer style softened the face that looked like a boxer’s with its big broken nose.
“Tell me about last night. What were you thinking going out on that sting?”
Juliana lifted her chin. “I thought that after all their planning it was too bad Marta got food poisoning so she couldn’t work.”
“They could have found another detective. Marta’s not the only female vice cop. You didn’t have to take her place.”
“It was perfectly safe, Papá.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Hector and Karl were with me the whole time. I never went anywhere with the johns.”
“You’re not a cop, Juliana. We don’t use civilians in stings.”
“I’m more than a civilian, Papá.”
His face flushed with anger. “You knew it was wrong to go. Why did you do it?”
Juliana didn’t know if she could explain. “I don’t feel like I do enough to help. It’s not like I find people. I thought when I started working with the police I’d feel, I don’t know, useful. But I don’t.”
Her father’s face gentled. “Chica, we only use you on the hardest cases, the ones we can’t solve with regular police work.”
“But why do you have to try regular methods first? I’ve got an 85% success rate at finding things.”
“Yo
u know why. The public pays us to do the job. They won’t pay a psychic. There’s a reason we keep your assistance as quiet as possible. Well, two reasons.”
“You’re protecting me.” She was tired of being cosseted.
“You’re all I have left of your mama.”
“I’m fully grown, Dad.” On purpose she used the English word. “You can’t keep protecting me my whole life.”
He glowered. He didn’t like her stepping outside the role of dutiful Latina daughter. “I’m a cop, it’s what I do. And I’m your papá. That’s what papás do.”
Juliana sighed. He was never going to get past the car accident that had killed her mother and injured her. If only she was brave enough to move far away, like Charlie had. But she’d lost both the dreams that would give her the courage—being a cop and loving Charlie. He returned, the thought teased. But he wouldn’t stay.
Her father blew out his breath. “I heard they caught Charlie Ziffkin in the sting.”
Juliana’s cheeks burned. She adjusted her hair forward around her neck. “Yeah. He’s all grown up, too.”
His dark eyes bored into her. “They kicked him loose.”
She shrugged with feigned carelessness. “He said he was a P.I. on a case. His brother believed him.”
“Last I heard he was an actor in Hollywood.”
So he’d been following Charlie’s life? “That’s what I thought, too.”
“Did he say anything to you, m’hija?”
“Like what?” Juliana tried to look innocent.
He studied her. The hickey burned like a brand. She tried not to fidget.
“Chica, I did what I thought was best sending you to your Aunt Dolores until I could sell the house. I didn’t want you pregnant and unmarried. You had your whole life ahead of you.”
“I know, Papá.” But he wouldn’t let her live her life.
“Thank God I did, seeing how young Ziffkin turned out.”
Juliana tried not to think about how she and Charlie had consummated their thirteen-year separation. “He lives in California, Papá. I don’t think you need to worry about him.” Or me ever seeing him again. A pain stabbed her chest in the vicinity of her heart.
