“I like to think I know better.”
He frowned. Down below, his hand shifted to her lower belly. He skimmed his fingers over it, making her skin leap.
“I like to think I’m smart enough to keep my mouth shut in bed.” He paused. “Normally.”
Jayne decided now would also be a good time for her to keep her mouth shut. If she opened it, something truly stupid was liable to come out. Like I love you.
Still, the moment called for some words, so she tried to keep it light.
“Are you saying I make you stupid?” she asked.
“I’m saying…this is unprecedented for me. There’s a nice legal word for you. You are unprecedented.” His hand flattened on her belly, resting there. “I want to make you proud of me. I want to protect you. I want to make you laugh. I want to tell you things. I want to tell you everything. I want…”
He trailed off, looking troubled, and hesitated for a long time.
“I want, Jayne. I. Want.”
She could see that. It was all right there in his fervent expression, which was a homing beacon to thirty-something career women who hoped to have a husband and children before it was too late.
And maybe she was a fool, but she was so close to believing him. So close to forgetting that she was a cynic who trusted no one, least of all men with complicated histories with the criminal justice system.
It was terrifying, this unexpected hopefulness. Life was so much easier when you skimmed along at the surface, never expecting anything deeper or more complicated than a night’s pleasure.
“You want me?” Leaning in, she nuzzled his mouth, felt him shudder and pretended her heart wasn’t in play here. “You’re a greedy one, aren’t you?”
He’d angled his head and parted his lips, making her anticipate the slow glide of his tongue into her mouth. So it was a shock when she got to the end of her sentence and his body turned to stone.
He abruptly ended the kiss, grabbed her shoulders and squeezed.
“Don’t do that.” His eyes went diamond hard—sharp-edged and glittering. “Don’t minimize this when you have to know I’m falling in love with you.”
Astonished, Jayne could only stare at him while she wrestled her answering confession into submission. She wanted to scoff and turn away. To dismiss the possibility outright and thereby keep her heart safe. But as she stared into his face, the worst possible thing happened:
She believed him.
And her body, unlike her head, was in no mood for denials.
“Kerry.”
The sudden urgency in her voice was like a switch flipping off all their inhibitions and knocking down their walls. Maybe her lips would keep the secret that she loved him, but body was the town crier.
She rose over him, pressing him to his back as she straddled and kissed him. Their mouths were frantic and as unrestrained as their cries. She kissed his neck. The hard, hair-dusted slabs of his chest. The raised curve of his scar where it ran down his side. She rubbed her face across his belly, relishing the powerful and reflexive grip of his hands on her head. Grasped his engorged length and loved the plump tip until her name pouring out of his mouth became strangled and incoherent. When his hips surged, she sucked him all the way into her mouth and did her best to swallow him whole.
“Jayne.”
She let him go. Crawled up the length of his big body, straddled him and stared down into his glazed eyes as she let her girls dangle in his face. He fondled her, trying to lick a nipple as it swung past, and his fumbling desperation to experience every part of her might have been funny if it wasn’t such a perfect reflection of the way she felt.
She reached between them, but he was already there with his penis in hand, poised and ready for her. Easing onto him, she felt the gathering tension high up between her thighs and nearly passed out from the quiet joy of it.
She rested her elbows on either side of his head and settled in, adjusting her hips until they were belly to belly and face to face.
They watched each other for one arrested second. His face gleamed with sweat. She wryly shook her head and tried to smile. He started to say something.
In the end, there was nothing coherent between them. Nothing rational.
Jayne let her eyes roll closed as she melted into him and this exquisite moment. His fingertips trailed up her back, offering all the encouragement she needed.
She found his mouth. Kissed him long and deep.
And rode him until she had nothing left to give.
39
“Do you miss it?” Jayne asked later. It was after three and they’d finally gotten hungry enough to forage for food in the kitchen. Kerry, who was wearing his pajama bottoms again (she’d thrown on a pair of panties and his T-shirt), saw the mushrooms and spinach in the fridge and went to work on omelet prep while she poured the low-sugar cranberry juice.
He stopped chopping and looked over his shoulder at her. “Miss what?”
“The excitement. The lifestyle.” She frowned as she put some bread in the toaster, remembering the day she’d ridden along with the IRS agents because it wasn’t every day you got to participate in the seizing of a drug lieutenant’s assets. Among other notable items, Kerry had owned a Ferrari, a Mercedes and several Rolexes that probably each cost more than she made in a year. “Kareem was an interesting guy, right? Even I thought he was charming.”
His expression soured. “Hallmark of a sociopath. Charming.”
“Well, maybe, but it’s got to be an adjustment spending your days with Dr. Katz and sick poor people when you used to spend them with Kareem. Isn’t it boring now?”
Kerry thought hard before he answered. “There’s a difference between boring and peaceful. There’s a difference between exciting and nerve-racking. Was Kareem exciting? Hell yeah. It’s also more exciting to live with a tiger in your house than it is with a housecat, but it’s not the best idea for your general well-being.”
“I get it. But what about all the stuff? It must be tough to hunt for bargains on a general practitioner’s salary when you used to shop at Restoration Hardware and Saks. Do you miss it?”
“Not even a little bit.”
“Come on.” As someone who was in the midst of a prolonged period of scrimping and saving for the Pottery Barn armoire she had her eye on, she found this hard to believe. “There’s no shame in admitting you like the finer things in life. I sure do.”
He grinned. “I went shopping at Target the other day.”
“You? Target? I feel dizzy,” she said, sitting on the barstool.
“I found a pair of forty-dollar loafers. I’m not sure they were leather, and I didn’t care because they were comfortable. So I bought them. I had a good laugh when I thought about what Kareem would say about that. All his shoes were custom made by some guy in Italy.”
He stirred the eggs, chuckling.
Something unpleasant squirmed in her belly.
“You do miss him.”
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “He was a huge part of my life for a long time. Not all of it was bad. I have moments of nostalgia. Usually followed by several hours of gratitude that he’s dead. Because the parts that were bad were…”
He turned his bleak face away, focusing on the eggs.
She, meanwhile, wished she could dial back her unfortunate tendency to act like she was grilling him in some deposition.
“I don’t mean to wallow in all things Kareem—”
“Too late,” he said.
“But I’ve always wondered: how did he get that way?”
“He was born that way,” he said, now plating the eggs. “Period.”
“There’s got to be more to it.” The toast popped, so she put it on their plates and passed him a knife and fork. “Doesn’t there?”
“Don’t get me wrong,” he said. “Wanda spoiled him. I think it was the whole single-mom thing. But her heart was always in the right place. Maybe it was a perfect storm—he was born that way, and the spoiling let
him get away with it.”
“What about—”
“And that’s enough Kareem.” He leaned in for a quick kiss to soften his words. “We’ve got more important things to talk about.”
“Like?” She took a quick bite of the eggs. “Wow. These are awesome. I’m going to keep you. Just so you know.”
She was midway through a sip of juice when she noticed his new stillness and looked around to discover him watching her with a funny look on his face.
“What? It’s a joke.”
He put his fork down and focused on her. “Why hasn’t some lucky guy kept you? I’ve been wondering.”
“I don’t know,” she said irritably. “I can be bitchy at times, I guess.”
“Fine. I’ll start,” he said, glaring. “I always wanted a wife and kids. And then all my plans went sideways, and… I may have been stupid, but I was smart enough to know I couldn’t expose a wife and kids to that life. And I didn’t want to fall in love and give Kareem something else to use against me.”
“Like your grandmother?”
“Exactly like my grandmother. He gave her a kidney when hers failed. Never mentioned that to you, did I?”
Her jaw hit the floor. “What?”
“Oh, don’t think he did it out of the goodness of his heart. He didn’t have a heart and he damn sure didn’t have any goodness. He did it so he’d have more leverage with me.” Long pause. “And it worked.”
“Oh my God.”
“Don’t get sidetracked. Why are you still single?”
The temptation was there to sugarcoat her history but, hell, every thirty-something woman had a history. Besides. What could she possibly reveal that was worse than Kerry’s past?
“I was engaged out of college, but it fell apart when he got his MBA at one school and I went to Columbia for my law degree. Hmmm…there were a couple men who cheated, and lots of men who only came around because of my boobs—”
“They are spectacular,” he murmured, running a finger across the top of one.
“I know,” she said, shivering. “And they’re real.”
They grinned at each other.
“And there were a few men who probably wanted to cross Did a fat girl—”
He glowered. “Stop with the name-calling.”
“—off their bucket lists, right after Did an Asian girl and Did a Latina girl. I usually saw them coming, so it was fine. Most recently, I broke up with this guy I’d been with for a year—”
“That’s a long time,” he said, looking surly.
“Yeah, but he wasn’t trying to move the relationship forward, and I was. He was an FBI agent, by the way. His career was way more important than I was.”
Kerry now looked as though he’d swallowed a mud-covered toad. “You were in love with him.”
“Yeah, but I’m over it.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“What about the fed in the wisteria garden?”
“Garciaparra?”
“He wants you. I can smell it on him.”
“He wants the boobs. Not me.”
Kerry’s expression softened. He hesitated. “So what’s your five-year plan?”
“In five years? I want to be head of the criminal division and get a lot more bad guys off the streets.”
He made an exasperated sound. “I’m talking about your personal five-year plan. As I’m sure you know.”
“Forget it,” she told him. “I’m not giving you the ammo you need to run out of here, screaming, on our very first night together. I can hear you with Dr. Katz now. ‘What happened to Jayne, Kerry?’ ‘I had to cut her loose, Katz. You wouldn’t believe how thirsty she was.’ No, thanks.”
He laughed. “First of all, I’m not going anywhere. It took me too long to get here in the first place. Second, why don’t you try me?”
“Nope.” Pointedly refusing to meet his gaze, she reached for her juice again.
Kerry came closer and spun her stool so she was facing him. He took the juice and put it on the counter. He eased between her legs and ran his hands up her bare thighs to make sure she wrapped them around him.
Then he eased close enough to grind against her sweet spot with yet another erection that took her breath away.
Conceding defeat, Jayne let out a sigh as she finally looked up at his glittering eyes. He stared at her with open satisfaction and determination, as though he understood full well what he did to her and planned to use that knowledge against her indefinitely.
The thing was, she didn’t even care.
Under normal circumstances, with a regular guy, she’d push him away at this point just to set some boundaries. She was tired. Wonderfully sated and sore. And she could not be owned or handled.
But Kerry had redacted the word no from her vocabulary, and she didn’t particularly want it back.
“You’re an animal.” She hooked her legs tighter and put her hands on his rock-hard ass to keep him close. Then she tipped her head back for his kiss, which was a feather light tease of his tongue. “You’re such an animal.”
“I am as you made me,” he said against her mouth. “And I want to know about your five-year plan. We need to wrap up this conversation. Because it’s time for me to fuck you again. Isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she said on a sigh.
“So what is it?”
“In five years, I want to be married with children. And a dog.”
“Hmm. How many children?”
“Two.”
“What a coincidence.” He leaned back just enough to stare her in the face. His eyes took up her entire field of vision, leaving her nowhere else to look. “Your five-year plan is the same as my five-year plan.”
He paused to smooth the hair away from her forehead. She watched him, wishing she could keep something—anything—of herself secret from him.
If only he didn’t have such a direct pipeline to her hopes, dreams and heart.
Then he pulled his pajama bottoms down and reached for her panties, and the only thing she could think about was getting him inside her again.
40
Jayne sat on their favorite bench in the wisteria garden, wrapped her scarf a little more snugly around her neck and tried not to grin at everything in sight. It was a losing battle. Everything pleased her these days, like the sun’s warmth on this crisp fall day, the frantic tittering of a couple of squirrels as they chased each other around one of the pillars and the fact that she’d won her motion in court a little while ago and Kerry would soon be here to celebrate with her.
They liked to meet up for lunch when possible, just to steal a kiss or two if time was short. Over the last several days, since they became lovers and she started smiling at everything she saw, she’d discovered that Kerry was her biggest fan and loudest cheerleader.
It was early yet, true, but things were going exceedingly well.
So, for now at least—today; this moment; this second—she planned to have a little faith in Kerry, have a lot of fun and continue smiling at everything she saw.
Including a scrawny border collie that appeared out of nowhere and trotted over to say hello, tags jangling and leash trailing.
“Hi, sweetie.” She held out a hand for him to sniff. “Where’d you come from?”
From several feet away, the dog cocked his head and stared at her, one ear flopping off at a crazy angle.
“Well, don’t be a stranger.” She laughed and snapped her fingers. “Come here. What’s your name?”
“That’s Kramer.” A white-haired older gentleman using a cane appeared from around one of the columns, startling her. “He loves people.”
“Hi, Kramer.” The dog crept closer. Jayne scratched his ears. “Aren’t you a good boy?”
“He is a good boy,” the man said, flipping the dog a treat from his pocket. “Nice weather, eh? I’ve been looking for a good place to have my lunch. I think I found my spot.”
“Yeah, I try to come whenever I can.” Jayne
smiled around at the rows of columns and the grassy interior. “It’s so secluded and peaceful.”
“Do you mind?” he asked, indicating the empty bench space next to her.
She beamed at him. “Of course not.”
He sat, produced a brown paper lunch bag from an inner pocket of his jacket and stuck out his hand. “Name’s Henry. Accountant.”
“Jayne.” Henry had a nice grip and reminded her of one of her favorite law school professors. “Assistant U.S. attorney.”
His eyes lit with interest as he pulled out a plastic bag and produced half a sandwich. “Oh? So you work around here?”
“Yeah. Just a couple of blocks.”
“Bologna sandwich? With cheddar and mayo?”
“No, thanks. I’m meeting my—” He’s not your boyfriend, fool, Jayne sternly reminded herself. Nobody’s made any declarations of anything, and a couple orgasms per night do not equate to a formal relationship. “I’m meeting a friend.”
“Nice.” He broke off a big chunk of sandwich. Kramer greedily gulped it down. “So what kind of work do you do, Jayne?”
“Criminal.” She hesitated to reveal too much, but the guy seemed harmless enough. “Drug trafficking, mostly.”
“Drug trafficking. That’s nasty business for a nice girl like you, isn’t it?”
He was an older gent, so she let the vague hint of sexism slide rather than taking him off at the knees, as she’d been known to do with those who’d doubted her skills in the past.
“Girls,” she said, making quotation marks with her fingers, “are perfectly capable of keeping the vermin off the streets.”
He laughed good-naturedly. “I don’t doubt it for a minute—”
“Hey,” said a new male. “What’s all this?”
“Kerry.” Jayne couldn’t keep the delight from her voice any more than she could keep the smile from her face. Her only consolation was that Kerry spent his days grinning as much as she did. Maybe more. She held out a hand and tipped up her face for his sweetly lingering kiss. “I’m making friends. This is Henry the accountant, and that’s Kramer.”
Henry put his sandwich down on the bench, levered himself up with his cane and stuck out a hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Kerry. Bologna sandwich?”
Deadly Secrets Page 25
