Close to the Edge

by Kylie Brant

  What stake did Tomsino have in the naming of Garvey’s heir? And how in heaven’s name had the man learned of the case she was working on? Her head ached with the questions that were ricocheting through her mind, none with answers readily apparent.

  A hammering on her door jolted her, the sound shattering her thoughts. Her head jerked toward the sound, but she didn’t move toward it. What if it was Tomsino? Unease pooled in her belly. She didn’t want to face the man again until she was armed with a little more information. Of who he was, first of all. And why he was intent on meddling in the investigation. She was determined to be much better prepared the next time they met. He wasn’t a man who should ever be allowed the upper hand.

  The pounding started again. “Jacey, open the door. Now.”

  Relief filtered through her at the familiar voice. She crossed to the door and opened it, standing aside to allow Lucky entry. She didn’t even want to admit how happy she was to see him. “You are not going to believe my night.”

  “You don’t think?” He wheeled around then, fixed her with a look. “How ’bout I try? You had dinner with a lyin’, thievin’, murderin’ bastard who’s been known to have people killed for standin’ in his way.” When her jaw dropped, he gave her a hard look. “How’d I do?”

  “You know Vinny Tomsino?”

  “Oui. I do.” He balled his fists and shoved them in the pockets of his black leather jacket as if he didn’t trust himself not to start swinging. “So I know that you’re too far out of your league to realize the danger you’re in. I know that if I hadn’t gotten him out of there, even now you’d be agreein’ to whatever he was demandin’, or payin’ the consequences.”

  The rest of his words were lost on her while she keyed in to just a few. “Wait a minute. You got him out of there? How?” Comprehension slammed into her. “That was you on the phone?”

  Frustration seemed to shimmer off him in waves. “Let’s just say, I got the ball rollin’. And you’re missin’ the point, darlin’. What the hell were you thinkin’, gettin’ anywhere near that guy?”

  It was obvious to her that Lucky knew a great deal more about the man she’d met with this evening than she did, and the knowledge was annoying. Especially as she realized now that she would have been far better equipped to handle the man had she possessed any of those facts herself.

  She started to walk by him. “I thought I was meeting with a potential client. But it wasn’t until he started making threats that I realized my mistake.”

  “Threats?” He grabbed her elbow as she walked by, whirled her around to face him. “What kind of threats? What did he want with you?”

  She searched his face warily. Suppressed fury had tightened his jaw, and his eyes burned with a dangerous light. She rarely had cause to see this side of him, but she knew enough to be wary. “I didn’t know who he was. Well, technically I still don’t. And he’s connected somehow to one of the Garvey heirs.” In terse sentences she relayed the gist of their conversation, concluding, “As we suspected, someone has gotten wind of our investigation. And that person is somehow connected to Tomsino. We just have to figure out which one of them it is.”

  “You’re not goin’ to have anythin’ more to do with this case.” His face, his tone, were grim. “I’ll take over from here on.”

  She tried to yank away from him, irritation spiking when she was unable to. “I’ve had just about enough of being told what to do tonight. I’ll see this case through, and I won’t be bowing to the likes of Vinny Tomsino, either.”

  “Cher, you don’t even know what you’re gettin’ into with Tomsino, but I do. I’ll think of a way out of this, one that will keep you safe. But you’ll need to step aside. Let Tomsino deal with me.”

  “No.” Furious, she placed her hands on his chest and gave him a push. “I’m not going to be scared off by some petty crook who thinks he’s got a ticket to make a buck off one of my cases.”

  His dark eyes glittered down at her, his face stamped with frustrated fury. “You don’t know what that man’s capable of.”

  “And you do?”

  “Oui.” The single-word answer was enough to silence her. “I know exactly. I used to work for him.”

  That shut her up as nothing else could. The thought of Lucky connected in any way to a pig like Tomsino was like a cold splash of water in the face. “Doing what?”

  “Bodyguard for some of his girls, mostly. Driver. Odd jobs.” He gave a careless shrug that wasn’t really careless at all. “Until it became very clear to me that most people who spent any amount of time at all around Tomsino ended up in prison or dead. I didn’t care for either prospect. And I’m not about to let you get in over your head on this. You back away from the case and I’ll think of a way to get him off your back.”

  Her head was swimming. The shocks were coming fast and hard, quick sneaky jabs that left her reeling. She’d known Lucky had experience on the rough side of the streets. It was there in his eyes, in the layer of menace that could radiate from him in times of temper. In times like these.

  But she wasn’t about to quail before his displeasure any more than she had Tomsino’s. “I don’t like being pushed, Lucky. Tomsino might not know that, but you should. We can think of a way out of this together, one that will expose whichever Garvey has put him up to this, and still protect J. Walter. I owe my client that.”

  He recognized the stubbornness on her face. He’d seen it enough over the years. A wave of helplessness hit him then, strong enough to stagger him. It was like watching two locomotives hurtling toward each other and being unable to do anything to stop the inevitable collision.

  And she…she didn’t have the sense to know when to leave well enough alone. Whatever instincts she had should be screaming at her to tread warily. A man in the grip of powerful warring emotions shouldn’t be pushed.

  But she didn’t seem to sense the danger. If she’d had one ounce of self-preservation, she would have read the expression on Lucky’s face and backed away, given him a chance to rein them in.

  Furious with her, with the entire situation, he answered in the only way he could. By hauling her body up hard against him and pressing his mouth to hers.

  Temper was whipping through him, fueled by fear for her. That kind of pent-up emotion demanded a release. Passion dictated the only avenue it could take.

  Her flavor raced through his system, inciting an all-too-familiar fire to flame hotter. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he brought her closer. One hand threaded through her hair and he steeped himself in the taste of her.

  There was a moment when she was completely still. Frozen by shock, he thought, or fury. He wasn’t certain which. Then he felt her hand fist on the front of his shirt, yank him nearer. She made a sound, deep in her throat that caused his pulse to riot.

  Her mouth nipped at his, her tongue battling his boldly. She wasn’t a passive recipient in any area of her life. He’d damned that quality of hers a moment ago. Now he exulted in it.

  He felt her hands shoving his jacket off his shoulders, but he refused to release her long enough to take it off. Her neck was a long sleek line that begged to be explored and his mouth sped down it, then up again. She began to unbutton his shirt, gave up and pulled his shirt from his waistband, skated her hands along his sides.

  She tore her mouth free long enough to gasp, “Take your clothes off.”

  “You first.” When she didn’t move to obey within the next few seconds his impatience peaked and he stepped back, shrugged out of his coat and shirt and then undid the front buttons on her dress with a speed that drew a laugh from her. The low throaty sound had all his senses roaring.

  Her breasts were encased in lace-edged bits of silk. The creamy mounds swelling above the cups would tempt a saint, reward a sinner. The dress framed her slender torso, and the sight of all that bare skin shrouded in fabric was both temptation and torment. He didn’t recognize this dark violent need clawing through him. He wanted her bare, under him, surrounding him
, now, right now. The urgency was a fist in his gut, clenching more tightly at her answering savage response.

  He bent his head to tongue the edge of her breasts where they rose above the scrap of lingerie. She kicked off her shoes, sending them both stumbling. He steadied himself by grasping her bottom, hissed in a breath when her busy hands stroked over his torso, then lower.

  His belly quivered. She struggled with his belt, desperation evident in the movements, in the scrape of her teeth along his throat. Her need was arousing, would have been more so if his own wasn’t slashing through him like a ruthless blade. He pushed the sleeves of her dress over her arms, reaching behind her to release her bra. Dispensing with that, as well, he busied his hands and mouth with hot, warm flesh.

  She was rose-petal soft, silky and fragrant. He rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers before taking one in his mouth, sucking strongly at her. Her back arched, and he feasted on her, driving them both mad with lips and tongue and teeth. He’d dreamed of having her like this, just like this. Mindless and frantic and hungry for him. In his fantasies he’d always harbored more control, showed more finesse. Which meant this couldn’t be a fantasy. Because restraint had never seemed further away.

  He moved her backwards, only dimly aware of his surroundings, unwilling to stop and get his bearings. They stopped only when a wall was against Jacey’s back, and he dropped to his knees before her, using his mouth to explore every curve, each hollow, every inch of smooth scented skin.

  Jacey’s system was awash in a wild and reckless lust that wouldn’t be denied. She kneaded the tight muscles in his shoulders, gasped when he nipped the curve of her waist in response. Impatiently, she tugged at him, urging him higher. She wanted to feel all of him, sleek heated skin pressed against hers, with no clothes between them. She wanted to feel hard male hands streaking over her, a hungry mouth twisting against his own.

  She didn’t recognize this edgy greed, this wild galloping ride toward madness. Her hands threaded through his hair as he pressed scalding kisses across her stomach. His fingers, those wicked clever fingers, toyed with the lacy tops of her nylons where they ended high on her thighs. Every pulse in her body was throbbing like a wound. Her senses were careening madly, crashing and colliding as sensation slammed into sensation.

  It had to be soon. Feeling was leaving her limbs, pooling in the sensitized areas he was devouring with his mouth. He rose and she sighed a grateful breath, reaching to release his zipper with more desperation than finesse. And then she went boneless when he cupped her, his fingers slipping under silk to plunge deep inside her.

  His mouth sealed hers, battering her senses in a dual assault and she twisted against him in frenzied need. She was sizzling from the inside out, rocking harder and harder to meet those clever stroking fingers, until she was flung mercilessly over the edge, shock waves of release pulsating through her.

  Lucky felt his vision haze as the first climax took her. He’d hungered for her for so long that the desire had become embedded inside him, as natural as breathing. Hearing her broken cries, feeling the slight sting as her fingers clutched his back battered his defenses. His own need was pumping through him, a brutal scream for satisfaction, one he was only going to find buried deep inside her.

  He hooked his fingers in the sides of her panties and dragged them over her hips. Jacey arched toward him, her breasts flattening against his chest. She reached inside his open trousers and closed her fingers around him. The air abruptly leached out of his lungs.

  Thought all but shattered. He withstood her rhythmic stroking for long moments until the fabric of his control shredded. Operating more on habit than reason, he managed to retrieve a condom from his pocket and put it on, while she shoved his pants down his legs. He grazed the cord of her neck with his teeth, a feral tide of greed rising swift and high.

  Her hands raced over his back, and he lifted her, pressing her against the wall. Stepping between her open thighs, he entered her with a long fluid stroke that had their groans mingling.

  He barely heard her cries. There was a fierce insatiable need to get deeper, harder, faster. Her legs climbed his, wrapping around his hips, and he thrust, with all the force and primal desire hammering through him. The world had receded. There was only him and this woman, the softness of her body, her tight wet sheath clenching around him.

  Her nails raked across his skin and a feral snarl sounded in his throat. He pounded himself into her, wanting, needing to see her eyes as they mated. But the savage greed that had arisen in him blinded him to everything else. All he could do was bury his face in her throat and plunge ever deeper inside her until passion erupted, the climax rocketing through him as he tumbled headlong into pleasure.

  Chapter 10

  She thought she’d seen stars. She was certain she’d touched them. Jacey was grateful for the unyielding wall at her back, the hard sleek body pressed against hers, keeping her from doing a slow boneless melt into a puddle of satiated hormones. If she’d been able to move she would have stretched like a lazy well-satisfied feline. As it was, she barely had enough energy to slide a hand languidly down Lucky’s damp spine, while she waited for strength to return to her limbs.

  That had definitely not been sex. She’d had sex before. Performed correctly, the act was enjoyable, mildly arousing, with a pleasant afterglow. This…this had been shattering. A riot of sensation that had assaulted her system. It was the difference, she thought dimly, as Lucky began nuzzling her neck, of setting off Roman candles one at a time, or lighting up the whole boatload of fireworks for one awe-inspiring display. She’d always thought patience was its own reward.

  But there was definitely something to be said for avid greed.

  His voice was muffled against her skin. “Are we still standin’?”

  She smiled, rolled her head to allow him better access. “Kind of.”

  “Just checkin’. Can’t feel my legs.”

  Slipping her hands down over his firm butt to his hard thighs, she squeezed. “They feel fine.”

  The nip he gave her then stung, but not enough to motivate her to move. “What are the chances you’re going to carry my weak, wrecked body to your chambre à coucher?”

  She assumed he was referring to her bedroom. Not knowing for sure didn’t affect her answer in the least. “Not looking good at the moment.”

  Heaving a sigh against her, he straightened. “You’re a mean woman, cher. I don’t know when I started findin’ that so damn arousin’.” Bracing a hand against the wall for strength, he withdrew from her, dispensed with the spent protection and then leaned heavily against her again. “Do we have to climb stairs?”

  A laugh bubbled out of her at the note of resignation in his tone. “Maybe we should have thought of that a little earlier.”

  “Darlin’, if you were able to think, we weren’t doin’ it right.” He surprised her then by scooping her up in his arms and striding for the curved staircase. “Maybe we need to try it again. Might need some practice.”

  The sexy banter, accompanied by the wicked glint in his eye, made it hard to be self-conscious about the fact that they were both naked, save for the thigh-high nylons she still wore. “I have a feeling you’ve had plenty of practice already.”

  “Not with you.” At the top of the stairs he paused. “Which way?”

  She gestured toward her bedroom door and he turned to use his shoulder to push it open. A sliver of worry edged through her feeling of well-being. “What about what you said before? About our friendship?”

  He dropped her on the bed, and dove on top of her, bracing himself with his hands on either side of her face. “I don’t want to be friends anymore.” Ducking his head, he caught her bottom lip in his teeth, his mouth muffling her laugh.

  If the first time had been frenzied, a headlong rush into pleasure, this was more leisurely, a thorough exploration of taste and touch and sight. He had the most wonderful hands, Jacey thought, arching beneath him. Soothing and tormenting by turn,
abrading one moment, smooth the next. He drew the nylons down her legs, one fraction at a time, his lips exploring each newly bared inch.

  The moonlight slanted through the sheers at the French doors, washing the bed with splintered shadows. The lace-edged sheets and piled pillows had always made the place seem feminine, and now they provided stark contrast to Lucky’s rakish masculinity. He knew just where to touch her to have her gasping, just how much pressure to use when he took her nipple in his mouth and tortured it exquisitely.

  They rolled on the bed, into and out of the slivers of light, bodies sealed together. Breast to breast, hip to hip, legs tangled. Lucky raised himself on one elbow above her to drink in the sight she made bathed in moonlight. Her gold hair spilled against the sheets, silk on satin. With her fair skin she was a study of cream and gold, and he felt something stir in his chest at the picture she made. She was all long lean limbs, luscious curves and exotic scents. And he wanted her, all of her, in a way that went deeper than lust.

  He kissed a path down her torso, lingered to explore the crease of her breast, the shallow indentation of her navel. He felt the leap of her pulse beneath his lips, and determined to restrain his own need this time until he could drink in every emotion that took her, savor every response.

  But the lady had other ideas. She shifted beneath him and he allowed her to move him to his back, to sprawl on top of him. Then it was his turn to be langorously explored, as she slid clever hands over him, around him. Her mouth trailed over his chest, pausing to scrape one masculine nipple with her teeth, eliciting a quick shudder from him. His response made a mockery of his earlier vow. There was torment there in the sweet soft skin pressing and sliding over his. In the playful fingers that could tease one moment, then return for a firmer caress the next.

  Her hair lay like a curtain of silk across his belly, as she dropped moist warm kisses across his heated flesh. He slid his hand from the indentation of her waist, over her hip, reveling in the slender curve of feminity. Then she slipped lower, and his body tensed a moment before she took him in her mouth.