Jessica met the thrust of his tongue with a vigor she’d forgotten she possessed. She arched into every fleeting touch, knowing down to the tips of her toes she’d never get enough. Her head fell back as he stooped to conquer her neck and throat. Hot, wet kisses bathed her in desire. The flat of his tongue found the pulse throbbing just beneath her jaw.
“Lang.”
His answering groan stoked the fire licking at her insides. Slipping his hand into her borrowed coat, he laid claim to one breast. A grunt of mind-reeling eloquence marked his approval of her braless state. Her nipple thrust into his palm, demanding his full attention. He fumbled with the hem of her T-shirt, gratifyingly clumsy in his haste to do her body’s bidding.
Her bare breast filled his palm. He held her gently, appreciatively, and with the kind of reverence that should be reserved for glass figurines and bone china, not the overheated figure of a flesh-and-bone woman. She arched into his grasp and his fingers closed around the pliant mound. “More. Oh, yes. More.”
“Jesus,” he rasped against her ear.
His thumb brushed the tight bud of her nipple and she came out of her seat. She peppered his jaw with kisses that landed with more enthusiasm than accuracy, a squeak punctuating her approval when he gave the puckered tip a rough pinch. “Take me home with you.”
“Oh God, I want to.”
The words were delivered on a rush of hot breath, but their message cooled her eager response by a few degrees. She recoiled ever so slightly. “Why won’t you?”
His mouth curved into a smile so wicked her heart leaped. If it weren’t for her ribcage, the traitorous organ would have flopped itself straight into his lap. “If I take you home with me, you might not respect me in the morning.”
Her temperature spiked again. Suddenly the puffy pink parka grew too warm to endure. She slipped it from her shoulders. “I will. I swear I will.”
“Liar.”
The call came soft and low, but its accuracy stopped her with one arm trapped in a marshmallow sleeve. The blush of the guilty marched up her neck and flooded her cheeks. She blinked at him, trying to appear innocent, but all too aware that she wasn’t pulling it off. “What? Why would you say that?”
Grasping the cuff of her sleeve, he waited until she freed her arm. “I want more.”
“Me, too. I think we’re off to a really good start.”
His eyes narrowed to slits. “I think you might be using me for sex.”
“Trying to,” she corrected. “You aren’t cooperating.”
“That’s why I’m not taking you home with me.”
His quiet conclusion rattled her nerves. She felt the crease in her forehead form before her frown could fully take shape. “I don’t get it,” she murmured. “You don’t want me?”
Faster than lightning, he pulled her up against him again. Wrapping his fingers around her wrist, he guided her hand to the unmistakable bulge pressing against his fly. “Don’t even go there.”
Oh, but she wanted to go there. Bad. Pressing her hand to the hard ridge, she massaged him through the strained fabric. “Oh yes. Let me go there.”
Her whispered entreaty was met with a moan, but Lang refused to surrender. He tightened his grip on her wrist and stilled her teasing hand. Her nimble fingers managed to grasp the tab on his zipper and give it a tug. A startled laugh burst from his chest. His eyes locked on hers, he gave his head a rueful shake as he pulled her hand from his crotch and pressed a slow, sexy kiss to the very center of her palm. It was her turn to moan, and Jessica did it with gusto. The rumble of his chuckle warmed her to the marrow of her bones. He closed her fingers over the kiss and held tight.
“I want you.” He spoke with unimpeachable confidence. His gaze was steady and unwavering, daring her to doubt his word. He turned her hand over, and kissed the back of it. “That’s why I won’t take you home with me. Not until we know each other better.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he silenced her with a single finger against her lips. “Now, just so we’re crystal clear, I am more than happy to sit here with you and make out until the cows come home or your mom unties that scarf. Whichever comes first.”
Jessica shook her head in bewilderment. “You are a very strange man.”
“Not so strange. I just know what I want.”
“And you think you might want me?”
“In my line of work, you learn to trust your gut.”
“And your gut is telling you…what?”
“That you’re someone I’d like to get to know better. That maybe you and me… Maybe there’s something more here.”
She studied him closely. “And you deduced all that from what evidence, Detective?”
“No real evidence. Just a hunch.”
Sinking back into her seat, she clamped her lips together. She didn’t trust herself enough to keep from spewing her hopes and fears all over him. Instead, she reached for the bag of trampled nacho chips spilled on the floor. Righting the bag, she closed one eye and peered intently at the remaining contents before turning it in his direction. “Chip?”
Lang nodded as he reached into the bag. Cupping a handful of the chips, he shot her a sidelong glance, popped one into his mouth and crunched. “Thank God you didn’t get the ranch flavor. The nacho cheese is the best.”
And just like that, her heart dropped straight into the palm of his hand.
Chapter Seven
“So I hauled him down to the station wearing nothing but his lipstick boxer shorts and a pair of black dress socks.”
Jessica rewarded him with a smile, but the gleam in her eyes made the heat banked deep in his gut flare. Lang sneaked another peek at the front of the house, but nothing had changed. The lights inside still blazed bright. The snow-caked scarf fluttered in the wind, scattering crystalline sparkles that danced in the glow of the porch light. She shifted in the seat and the streetlight caught the reflective strip on her pants. The scent of her shampoo filled the tiny space, and her lime-flavored kisses still lingered on his lips. He swallowed hard, trying to force his tattered pride down with the lump of lust that seemed permanently lodged in his throat.
They’d spent the past thirty minutes telling stories, passing the margarita bottle back and forth, and systematically demolishing the chips, but the raging hard-on in his pants refused to subside. He wanted to take her home and tuck her into his bed, caution be damned.
The top of the chip bag crinkled obnoxiously when she rolled it down. She tossed the remains of their sustenance into the grocery sack then offered him the bottle. He shook his head, supremely conscious of the harsh winter conditions and the fact that he had to drive home. As they’d talked, he’d contented himself with sips small enough to wash the crumbs down his throat while embracing the realization that nothing would quench his thirst for the woman sitting next to him.
“You could kiss me.”
The blunt suggestion jolted him from his reverie. Lang rolled the stiffness from his neck and sank as deep into his seat as he could. “I want to, but I’m afraid the margaritas might have impaired my judgment.”
She huffed indelicately, and he fell a little harder a lot faster. “Puh-leese. I don’t think there was any booze in that bottle at all.”
His lips quirked into a wan smile. “Maybe it’s the prolonged blood loss, then.”
“We could have been in your bed by now.” Her voice was a low, husky taunt. Her smile was pure temptation. “Kiss me.”
His resolve crumbled like a stale saltine. He crossed the line without another moment of thought, cradling the base of her skull and pulling her into the abyss with him. Their tongues tangled and her hands cruised over the front of his shirt.
“We could pretend this is our third date and work backwards from there,” she whispered.
“Great idea.”
He cupped her breast again and drew her lower lip into his mouth, tormenting the tender flesh with his teeth. Her nipple pressed into his palm, pebbled and taut, demanding his undivided attention. Pu
shing her back in the seat, he shoved the stretched-out T-shirt up to her neck. The light from the dashboard bathed her pearly skin in a glaring red. Her eyes sought his as he covered her breasts with his hands. Despite the warmth of his hands, a shiver raced through her. Lang stretched his torso and ducked his head, relinquishing his hold on one soft mound to his mouth. He sucked the nipple deep, drinking in the soft fragrance of her skin and relishing the rasp of the hard peak against his tongue.
Jessica’s back bowed. She arched out of the seat, serving herself up to the hungry pulls of his lips, teeth and tongue. She made noises. Tiny, maddening whimpers and sighs that filled the car, muddled his mind, and flooded his senses. He moved to her other breast and devoured her with ruthless purpose. Hell-bent on hearing more of those delicious little mewls of pleasure, he slipped his hand under the elastic waistband of her track pants. His fingertips brushed soft, smooth cotton panties. Jessica leaned into the caress, moaning like a woman riding the razor’s edge. He desperately wanted to be the man to push her over the brink.
She spread her legs wider, opening herself to his questing fingers and shredding his self-control. A man possessed, he worked his way under that final barrier. Damp, downy curls drew him in. Her soft, slick folds closed around one incredibly lucky finger. Jessica groaned, a smile of pure feminine pleasure curving her mouth. She had him just where she wanted him, and they both knew it.
“God, you’re so hot.” The observation took on several meanings as he watched her ride his finger. Pressing the heel of his hand to her mound, he captured her gasp with a hard, fast kiss. Thrusting deeper, he stared into her heavy-lidded eyes as he drove her higher. “I’ve gotta get inside you.”
He took her sharp intake of breath as a sign of agreement. He captured her mouth again, this time taking the kiss slow and deep, his tongue surging against hers in perfect sync with his hand. Those mind-blowing mews and whimpers grew higher, breathier, more urgent. She tore her mouth from his only to gasp his name.
Her snug, wet walls closed around his finger. Her climax rippled through him, setting every nerve ending in his body on fire. Plush lips shone in the dim light, red from his kisses and slick with desire. Unable to deny himself one second longer, he fumbled with the buckle on his belt.
The soft clink of metal drew her attention. Lashes fluttered against porcelain cheeks. Blue eyes hazy with spent desire sought him out. He held her gaze as he opened his pants, unable to focus on anything but her slow, satiated smile.
Any trickle of awareness he still possessed was obliterated by a sweet, sexy sigh. With renewed purpose, he bent to flick his tongue over one bare nipple, teasing the heat-softened flesh until it furled tight once more. She ran her fingers through his hair and he almost purred like a damn kitten. On the next pass through she gave it a sharp tug. He growled and caught the pebbled tip between his teeth, peering up at her from under his lashes as he held her there, the threat implied and promised all at the same time.
“Lang,” she panted.
The sound of his name tumbling from her kiss-swollen lips was too much to bear. He retracted the threat, smiling as he placed a tender, chaste kiss to the straining peak. “God, you’re beautiful.” Her low, sultry hum of approval fired his blood. “Say my name again.”
Her restless hands ran over his shoulders, bunching the fabric of his jacket then smoothing it again. The tiny space was filled with the sound of their labored breathing. Leveraging her butt from the depths of the seat, she raised her breast to his lips once more. “Lang.”
He drew her nipple into his mouth and bit hard. Jessica’s hands fisted in his hair. She cried out, her strangled yelp a protest and an invitation all tangled up in a burst of need. “We’re going to be good, Jessica.” He whispered the promise into her skin, imprinting himself on her. “We’re going to be better than either of us ever imagined.”
His promises were cut off by a low-frequency whoop and a whirl of blue lights.
Lang’s first instinct was to throw his body over hers, but the sound of a car door, then the crunch of approaching footsteps brought him to his senses. After jerking her shirt down and her pants up, he rolled back into his seat and yanked the lapels of his suit coat closed over his gaping fly. The butt of a flashlight tapped the glass. Muttering a string of expletives, he lowered his window and allowed the bitterness of a night gone tragically wrong to cool the heat of the moment.
“Evening, Langley.”
Frigid air rushed in through the open window. Tipping his head back, he squinted against the too-bright light then shaded his eyes with his hand. Eventually, his pupils dilated enough for Ernie Biggins’s fleshy face to swim into focus. Too friendly for his own good, and not quite clever enough to make a higher grade, Ernie was already a seasoned patrolman when Lang finished the Police Academy. He’d still be roaming the streets of Wheatfield when it was time to retire.
Nice guy or not, Lang winced when he spotted the older man’s shit-eating grin. “Hey, Ernie. Cruddy night out, huh?”
“Doesn’t look like you were having a cruddy night, Langley.”
The wince sank into a full-blown grimace. He’d forgotten about the hours of amusement Ernie could derive simply from the use and abuse of his given name.
The older man swept the beam of his flashlight over the houses lining the street. “A concerned citizen called in a complaint. They thought there might be some underage kids out here sneaking a little drinkie.” He smirked as he bent to peer at Jessica, who sat huddled against the door, the obnoxious pink coat spread over her like a blanket. The light swept over the bottle of margarita mix, hesitated for a moment, then flicked off. Ernie straightened, his gaze raking the deserted street. “You haven’t seen anything like that, have you?”
Thankful for the other man’s discretion, but already dreading the razzing he’d take at the station house, Lang shook his head. “Underage kids?”
“Yeah.”
“No,” he answered without a moment of hesitation.
“Good.” Propping his gloved hand on the roof of the car, he drummed his fingers. “You havin’ car trouble?”
“Just dropping her off at home.”
Ernie thumped the roof, then stepped back. “Okay, then. I’ll let you get back to, uh, dropping her off.”
“Thanks.” There was no squelching the wry note that crept into his tone. Lucky for him, Ernie was fairly oblivious to nuance. “Night, Ernie.”
Unfortunately, he didn’t raise the window fast enough to cut off the other man’s reply. “Night, Langley. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Jessica was the first to break the strained silence. “Busted.” She turned and met his best cop glare with a smile. “Langley?”
“What of it?”
“Family name?”
“I’m sure it’s a name from someone’s family.”
“But not yours?” She chortled. “How did your parents ever come up with that name?”
“My grandmother named me.”
“Isn’t the FBI or CIA headquartered in someplace called Langley? I seem to remember that from a movie or TV show.” She turned in her seat, eyeing him with more interest. “Was your daddy a spook?”
“My daddy was a carnival worker who knocked up a sixteen-year-old girl before he moved on.”
Her jaw dropped. “No way.”
The obvious intrigue shining in her eyes did little to soothe his frayed nerves. He met it head-on, hoping to quell further questioning with cold, hard facts. “Needless to say, my mother wasn’t really up for the job, either. She took off for California when I was three. My grandmother named me and raised me. Other than the name and tonight’s setup, I’ve rarely had any cause to question her choices.”
“You’re close, then?”
“I’d do anything for her.”
Jessica smiled and reached across the console to give his arm a gentle squeeze. “That’s nice.”
Outside, the wind howled. Flake of snow and pellets of sleet collected in the corner
s of the windshield. Lang frowned at the accumulation and a shiver raced through him. “She’s all I have.”
“And she wants you to get married.”
He chuckled but wasn’t surprised at how quickly she leaped to the wrong conclusion. “No, I want to get married. She just wants me to have what I want.”
“So weird to hear a guy say so just flat-out like that.”
Her nose wrinkled but her smile lit her eyes. Ice and cold forgotten, he stared into them, captivated. “It shouldn’t be weird. I think most guys want the same thing, even if they don’t say it.”
“You want the family you never had.”
The oversimplification made him frown. “Let’s not read too much psychobabble into this.”
“You want the family you never had, and your grandmother named you Langley because she wanted you to grow up to be a G-man.”
“Or it could be that she just heard the name somewhere and liked it.”
Their gazes held for a moment, but then Jessica’s eyes widened and the spark of amusement he’d seen moments before flared. His stomach sank as a delighted grin overtook her face. “It’s from All My Children, isn’t it?” she challenged. His mouth tightened and his jaw clenched, but in the end he nodded. “I knew it! My mother loved that show.”
Her triumphant crow bounced around the car’s interior, but before he could work up the proper amount of indignation, she gave a little shiver and burrowed into her coat. “Turn the heat on again, will you?”
Disoriented by the sudden shift in topic, Lang scowled at the illuminated icons on the dash. The motor must have died while he and Jessica were…distracted. He touched his toes to the accelerator, but the engine didn’t purr in response. No wonder Ernie asked if they were having car trouble. Leaning forward, he cranked the key, but nothing happened. On the instrument panel a tiny red light in the shape of a gas pump glared at him accusingly. The needle on the gauge was buried well beneath the line marked E.
The absurdity of the entire evening built inside him. A crazed laugh clawed at his throat, but he swallowed it down. Instead, he twisted in his seat and used both hands to frame her face. A puzzled frown tugged at her brows, but he couldn’t help but smile. He was finally going to get a chance to make good on the lame excuse teenagers had used for decades. Her mouth went soft with anticipation and her eyes warmed.
Harlequin E Contemporary Romance Box Set Volume 2: Maid to CraveAll I HaveThe Last First DateLight My Fire Page 23
