“Pretty much.” He hadn’t really had a choice. Even then, his brain had buzzed with the need to be busy. “Whatever I couldn’t find in books I grabbed off the library’s free Internet. I didn’t learn it all overnight, but…”
Capelli shrugged to cap off the sentence as well as to counteract the weirdness of his admission, but one look at Shae’s fascinated expression told him he’d failed spectacularly.
“Come on, Capelli. I can’t even program my DVR when the customer service guy walks me through the whole process step-by-step, and you just”—she waved a hand through the air—“taught yourself how to run all the information technology for the most elite police unit in the city. Including their security and surveillance.”
“I guess, yeah. That’s just how my brain works. And all you have to do to program your DVR is follow the directions in the manual.” Capelli took the spray bottle, cleaning the last of the fingerprint powder off of her coffee table.
She snorted. “Have you ever tried reading the manual for a DVR? You know what, on second thought, forget I asked. You probably wrote the manual in your spare time, didn’t you?”
“Funny,” he said, gathering the dirty paper towels to trade them in for clean ones. But Shae’s exaggerated smirk actually did make it funny, and he let go of a laugh that felt so good, he wouldn’t have pulled it back even if he’d been able to.
“Seriously. I bet you’d be great at that.” She straightened the cushions and throw pillows on her couch, draping the blanket she’d been wrapped up in last night over the back of a nearby arm chair. “In fact, I think you might’ve missed your calling.”
“Right.” Capelli crossed the living room to toss the paper towels in the kitchen trash, giving his hands a fast rinse before rejoining Shae where she’d plopped down on the couch. “Because ‘Press the MENU button on your remote, then select the DVR icon’ is so riveting.”
Shae’s continued sweet and sexy laughter prompted him through the next half-dozen directives that had been jammed in his elephant-sized memory ever since he’d first read them in his own DVR manual ages ago. But by the time he was done, she’d traded her laughter for that wide, bright green stare that always managed to level him.
“Okay, seriously. How the hell did you know all that, word for word?”
“I remembered it,” he said, all honesty.
She blinked. “Did you just reprogram your DVR yesterday or something?”
“More like two years ago, when I replaced the old one.” It had actually been two years, one month, and seventeen days. But saying that would definitely be weird.
Of course, Shae’s curiosity wasn’t about to let the topic slide. Her brows creased in thought, but only for a second before winging upward. “Wait…do you have a photographic memory?” she asked, and although his defenses flickered, the truth was hardly classified information.
“Eidetic. But most people use them interchangeably.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Not much,” he said. It was accurate—people confused the two for good reason.
Not that the response took so much as a chip out of Shae’s obvious interest. “Come on, Capelli.” She shifted over the couch cushions to nudge his knee with her own, the contact sending a pull of attraction deep through his chest. “Don’t make me Google it.”
He huffed out a laugh, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Having an eidetic memory essentially means that I only need to see something once, maybe twice if it’s particularly heady or high-volume, and I’ll remember it in vivid detail.”
Shae blinked, and Capelli had to admit, shocking her instead of the other way around was kind of a turn-on. “So you can pull up even the teensiest little specifics about every single thing you’ve ever seen?” she asked.
“Not quite. Occasionally something will get lost after a while.” Granted, it was pretty freaking rare, but… “I mean, I can’t remember everything I’ve ever had for lunch. I do remember things most people don’t, though—especially particulars. But the memories come back more like a movie replay than actual photographs, and I can usually call them up pretty quickly if it’s something I’m trying to remember.”
“Oh my God, that must be so cool,” she murmured.
Although his pulse tapped out a steady rhythm of careful what you wish for, he oddly didn’t shy away from the truth. “Not as cool as it seems, I’m afraid. Some things stick out more vividly than others, and I don’t always get to pick what my brain will cough up and when.”
“Oh. Oh,” Shae added, her ponytail snapping over one shoulder as her chin lifted in understanding. “I’m sure you see a lot of stuff in intelligence that makes an eidetic memory kind of a curse. But you must have a bunch of good memories too, right?”
The stuff from intelligence—as grim as some of it had been—wasn’t nearly what haunted him most, but since he wasn’t about to voice that little nugget, Capelli said, “Of course.”
She didn’t even skip a beat as she leaned toward him and brazenly said, “Name some.”
“Huh?”
His graceless answer paved the way for Shae’s laugh, and Jesus, her expression was so simple and wide open and beautiful that he felt it in a whole lot of places he shouldn’t.
“Name some,” she repeated, gently this time. “Tell me some of the good things you remember.”
A feeling he couldn’t easily define thumped through his chest, warning him and daring him closer to her at the same time. “We still have a bunch of cleaning up to do,” he said, but shit, the attempt to stall so he could gather his wits was weak at best.
As evidenced by the fact that Shae only budged from the navy blue couch cushions to move closer to him. “The rest of the cleaning can wait. Seriously, Capelli. Is it really going to offend your sensibilities that much to tell me a couple of happy things you remember?”
Well, hell. She kind of had a point. “Okay.” He sorted through the compartments in his mind until a memory unfurled like an instant replay. “I remember that freak blizzard we had five winters ago. You know, the one where we got nearly a foot of snow in less than a day?”
“I remember that too,” she said with a grin. “I was a rookie, and we got stuck on shift. It was before Dempsey moved from engine to squad, and he and Faurier and I had an epic snowball fight in front of the fire house. For the record, Faurier fights dirty.”
Capelli nodded. The guy was cocky enough for that to make perfect sense. “We were all stranded at the precinct too. Moreno was still on patrol then, and Sinclair had just taken over the intelligence unit. We all took turns crashing on the couch in his office. Which is how we found out Maxwell talks in his sleep.”
Shae choked out a sound he was pretty sure she’d intended to be a laugh. “He does not!”
“Hand to God,” Capelli said, his own laughter leading him closer to her as naturally as two magnets gravitating toward one another out of sheer instinct. “I remember the day Moreno was promoted, too. At the time, intelligence was just me, Maxwell, and another detective, Mike La Rocca, who retired seventy-nine days after that.”
Her brows traveled up at the precise mention, and he lifted his back in an unspoken I told you so. “See? I meant it when I said the details are exact. I even remember what you were wearing the first time I ever saw you.”
“You…what?”
Capelli froze to the couch cushions. Damn it, he hadn’t meant to pop off with anything about her, specifically. But Shae had asked for good memories, and somehow, unexplainably, this was one of his best.
“It was April nineteenth, three years ago. Almost four, now. You were at the foosball table in the Crooked Angel. Playing blue. Kicking Gamble’s ass.” That part of the re-telling earned him a small smile, and the rest of the memory broke free to spill right out of his mouth.
“You were wearing jeans with a hole in the left knee and a green V-neck T-shirt and a silver necklace. It had an anchor charm on it that sat right in the hollow between your
collarbones.” He remembered—with fierce, preposterous clarity—the play of her muscles where her neck met her shoulder, the glint of that necklace against her impossibly creamy skin.
“Your hair was longer,” he said, his heart kicking harder beneath his dark blue button down shirt. “Still in a ponytail. And when Isabella introduced us, you said—”
“James Capelli. Don’t you look like trouble,” Shae finished on a whisper.
Her eyes glittered in the lamplight around them, her gaze unyielding and yet somehow still soft. She’d angled her body toward his as he’d spoken, and fucking hell, Capelli wanted her. But not in the same hot, urgent way of last night. No, this new want seemed even more dangerous, because unlike last night, this time Capelli knew he wanted her. Knew what she’d taste like when he put his mouth on hers. Knew exactly how the pitch of her voice would tighten and rise into a lust-filled cry when he made her come.
Yet just like last night, he didn’t hesitate to close the space between them.
Chapter 15
Although Shae never would have been able to dial up all the details of the night she’d first said it to Capelli, her instincts had been spot-freaking-on when she’d told him he looked like trouble. Of course, at the time, the accusation had been a flirty little joke about how seriously he’d extended his hand and given up a solemn “pleasure to meet you”. But with the way he was kissing her right now, so hot and so deep and with just the right amount of wrong, Shae couldn’t deny the truth.
James Capelli was trouble. The best, baddest kind.
And God, the unexpected discovery only made her want him all the more.
Sliding her hands into his hair, Shae tightened her fingers to hold him close. He met her move for move, cupping first her face, then the back of her neck in a borderline possessive grip. A shiver worked a path up her spine as Capelli swept his tongue over the seam of her mouth. But it was a demand for entry Shae wanted to give, and she parted her lips without thought. Her tongue darted out, tasting the firm curve of his bottom lip before gliding up to deepen the kiss. He only let her take for a minute, though, and then he was pushing back, pressing inside her mouth with greedy strokes, turning the spot between her legs molten.
Shae broke from his lips, although truly, she had no idea how. “You sure about this?” she asked. She wanted him—badly enough that she felt the force of it in her blood, thumping against her eardrums with every rapid-fire heartbeat. But as much as she wanted to strip off every stitch of their clothing and do unspeakably wicked things with him right there on her couch, what she didn’t want were regrets.
Capelli’s gaze winged up. Widened over hers. Darkened with intensity that transformed her breath into a dim afterthought.
“I’m sure,” he said.
“Thank you, baby Jesus,” Shae murmured, her hands flying out to start unbuttoning his shirt.
But he captured her fingers in one nimble grab. “Not so fast.”
Her heart jackhammered against her rib cage as she tried—and failed—to balance his answer with his actions. She must’ve broadcast her confusion though, because before she could say anything, Capelli used his hold on her hand to pull her close.
“Do you remember last night, when I said I wanted to find every single place that makes you scream?”
“Yes,” she said against his mouth, more sigh than actual word.
“I hope your walls aren’t thin, because I’m starting here”—he reached into the sliver of space between them to drag his thumb over her kiss-swollen bottom lip, applying just enough pressure to the sensitive skin at the heart of her mouth for her to open up and taste him, and oh God, oh God, she was going to fly apart before they even started—“and I’m taking my sweet fucking time with the rest of you.”
For a second, Shae just sat there on the couch cushions, lost in the sheer, hypnotically dirty promise. Then her impulses fired back, and she drew his thumb past her lips in one swift, sinful move.
“Fine by me, Starsky, because when you’re done, I’m taking you my way. Fast”—she pressed her chest against his in a rush—“Hard”—added a kiss to back up her claim—“And so goddamn hot I won’t be the only one screaming.”
They crashed together in a burst of punishing kisses and bad intentions. Digging her fingers into Capelli’s shoulders, Shae blew past every pleasantry she could think of to seat herself directly in his lap. Every part of his body went rigid beneath hers save his hips, which lifted off the couch in one rough thrust. But then his arms were around her rib cage, her center of gravity changing faster than she could fight it, and within seconds, Capelli had pushed to standing with her wrapped firmly in his grasp.
“Bedroom,” he said, the word coasting down her neck as he strung a trail of open-mouthed-kisses there.
“Yes. Go.” She took full advantage of the opportunity to knot her legs around his waist a little tighter when he started to walk, the friction of her thong against her already aching clit tempting her to bite out a moan. “Oh God, that’s good.”
“That’s nothing.” Capelli’s smile was dark and wildly sexy as he moved over the threshold of her room, setting her down carefully at the foot of her bed. “You really want to know what good feels like? Take off your clothes so I can show you.”
Shae’s breath caught in her throat. Her fingers itched to yank off her sweater and jeans and throw them to the floor—shit, she’d throw them into the next county just to be one step closer to naked with Capelli right now. But something about the glint in his stare made her pause instead.
“You want my clothes off? Start stripping too. I’m an equal opportunity girl, and I’m not in the mood to wait.”
For a second, she thought he’d balk. God knew his expression implied as much. Then suddenly, surprisingly, Capelli reached down to undo all the buttons on his shirt and cast the thing aside.
“Whoa.” Want spread out, low and hot between her hips at the sight of his broad, bare shoulders. The flat plane of his chest gave way to chiseled abs and a leanly muscled waist, a dusting of sandy blond hair leading from his navel to the top button of his jeans, and seriously, who knew he’d been hiding all that under the cover of plain old clothes?
“You’re staring,” he said, and in that moment, Shae was powerless to come out with anything other than the raw truth.
“Because you’re fucking beautiful.”
Capelli surprised her again with a laugh. “I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around, but I’m damn sure I’d like to find out.” He stepped toward her, close enough to touch even though he didn’t, and her heart hammered even faster in her chest. “Prove me right, Shae. Take off your clothes and show me how beautiful you are.”
She didn’t hesitate. Curling her fingers around the hem of her sweater, she lifted the cotton over her head, barely letting the garment fall to the carpet before she kicked out of her boots and jeans.
“Holy…” His eyes raked over her peach-colored lace bra and thong. “Don’t your co-workers find that distracting in the locker room?”
“Are you kidding?” She laughed. “I don’t wear this stuff when I work. Even if I did, I doubt Gamble and Walker and Slater would notice.”
“Good,” Capelli bit out, reaching out to pull her close. “Let me notice.”
Hooking both thumbs beneath the ribbons that served as her bra straps, he slid the satin and lace from her shoulders. A quick turn of one wrist freed her breasts completely, but Shae didn’t shy away from letting him look at her in the soft, golden light spilling in from the hallway. Capelli didn’t speak, simply took her in with a long, loaded stare that moved over her like a touch, and wetness bloomed in hot demand between her thighs. Framing her face with his hands, he captured her mouth in a kiss, pulling her tight against his hard, bare chest.
“Ah.” Shae exhaled, half sigh, half something else she couldn’t begin to name. The kiss blew past sweetness and went straight for pure pleasure, with Capelli taking and teasing and tasting, until finally, he broke from her
mouth. But he didn’t move on to touch her in any of the places she expected him to. He bypassed her tightly beaded nipples and the hot, aching spot between her thighs, tracing a path down the shell of her ear with his tongue instead. The feather-light contact sent flutters of want through Shae’s belly, her pussy clenching as he slid lower to kiss the hinge of her jaw, and she arched up to get more of his touch.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Capelli said, smiling that dark, wicked smile she’d had no idea he was capable of, but God, it turned her on. “Let me find you. Let me figure you out.”
Returning his attention to her body, he did exactly as he’d promised to the night before. He explored her with his fingers and lips, learning all the unexpected places that made her want to beg him to fuck her. The hammering pulse point at the base of her neck. The outer curve of her breasts. The shockingly sensitive spot inside her elbow. Each touch heightened her arousal, turning her sex slick and her breath into moans, until finally, Shae was certain she’d splinter apart.
“Capelli, please.” She pushed up to kiss him, not gently. Whether it was the plea or the need-soaked tone with which she’d uttered it, she couldn’t be sure, but something made him pause.
“You want more,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and thrusting his hips against hers. The press of his cock, hot and hard and so damned close to where she wanted it, made Shae reckless, and she thrust right back.
“I want you,” she said. But before she could reach out and back up her words with any sort of action, Capelli dropped to his knees in front of her.
“You want me? You can have me. Right after I have you first.”
He tugged her panties down in one fast yank. Sliding off his glasses, he looked up at her, and sweet Jesus, Shae had never wanted anyone so badly in her life.
Capelli didn’t wait. Shifting forward, he ran his tongue over the seam of her sex, and Shae had no choice but to cry out.
But the sound only made him bolder. Parting his mouth wider over her folds, he kissed her more deeply, stroking his way inside. Pleasure shot through her, powerful enough to make her bend at the waist, yet still, he didn’t relent. Capelli licked and sucked, finding every last sweet spot hidden between her legs. Shae tilted her hips, greedy for more—for everything—and with punishing thrusts of his tongue, he gave it over and over.
Deep Burn (Station Seventeen Book 2) Page 18
