Lewis Security

by Glenna Sinclair

  She smiled and ran her hand over my head, then held onto the back of my neck as she stretched upward for a kiss. Her kiss told me everything I needed to know. She was sure. So I positioned myself at her wet, hot entrance and took a deep breath before thrusting forward.

  She was so tight. It was the first thing I thought as I slid into her. She gasped and strained as I filled her. “Are you all right?” I whispered, staying still for fear of hurting her.

  “Oh, yes.” Her legs tightened around me and her hips thrusted upward. “Do me. Hard.”

  My body took over at the sound of her words. I pulled back before thrusting forward again. She cried out, holding me tight, throwing her head back with a look of triumph on her face. I leaned against her, my face in her neck, and let my need take over. She ran her hands over my shoulders, down my back, over my ass and dug in until I winced. I trailed down the side of her body with one hand, pressing my fingers into her hip as I rode harder, faster.

  She unwrapped her legs and planted her feet on the bed, adding to the resistance as I humped madly. “Yes!” she gasped, jerking her hips upward, pushing against my thrusts and doubling the intensity. Her cries got louder, longer, until it was all one continuous cry of pleasure and she tightened around me, squeezing, then pulsing deliciously. I cried out once, twice, then tensed all over, the force behind my orgasm enough to make me gasp in surprise. It was stronger than anything I remembered. Better, too. So much better. I never knew it was possible.

  I collapsed onto her with one last grunt and stayed there for a few seconds, struggling to catch my breath. We were both sweating, both gasping, and soft moans still escaped her mouth now and then. I pushed myself up to look down at her—it was like she glowed from the inside out, like moonlight. She was the most breathtaking thing I had ever seen.

  Then, she opened her eyes and smiled up at me with so much trust and so much certainty, it almost broke my heart. But in a good way. The sort of heartbreak that allowed more love into a heart, not the other way around. I felt myself wanting to make room for her in there. I hadn’t felt that way in years.

  “Thank you for that,” she whispered with another smile, a shy one.

  “You’re thanking me?” I asked with a chuckle as I rolled onto my side, away from her, cleaning myself up quickly before flopping down on my back. “I should be the one thanking you.”

  She curled up next to me when I extended my arm for her, and I wrapped her up, holding her close. She was dangerous. The sort of danger that made a man want to forget why he’d been pushing love away for so long.

  Chapter Eight – Christa

  It had to be a dream. I was dreaming. I had dreamt the entire day, from the moment Pax showed up until the moment I curled up in his arms, still sweating and quivering after we made love. I was out on the chair on the beach, wasn’t I? Asleep with a piña colada in the sand beside me.

  Except I could feel the night air on my skin, making the thin sheen of sweat on my overheated skin feel chilly. I shivered, and his arms tightened. I could smell him, feel him, even taste him still. No way that was a dream. It was all too real.

  The way I felt was real, too. I could’ve wept with joy. We were together, finally, after wishing and wanting for so long. And it was better than I ever could’ve fantasized—which was saying something, because I had fantasized quite a bit. More than I should have, probably. Nothing I’d imagined had even come close to the real thing. The feeling of his mouth on me, his hands, his thickness filling me up inside. The sounds he made, the way he smiled at me, the feel and taste of him as I took in all I could. I feasted on him and tried to hold onto the moment as tightly as I could. Who could blame me? I didn’t know if it would ever happen again.

  The thought made me shiver, and not from the night breeze. He felt the change in me as I tensed up. “What is it?” he murmured, his mouth against the top of my head. His heart was still beating fast, like mine, and his breathing had yet to return to normal.

  “Is this real?” I whispered. “Am I imagining all of this?”

  “It’s real—believe me, I don’t think two people can imagine the same thing at the same time.” He chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. I felt it under my ear and smiled.

  “What about when we get back home?”

  It was his turn to tense up, but it only lasted a moment. Then, he relaxed again. “I have to admit, I hadn’t thought about that. I don’t know. Why can’t we just enjoy what we have right now?”

  “I agree,” I whispered, pushing up on one elbow, “but still. We have a life outside this place. I think it would be good if we could agree on what things will be like when we get back there.”

  He sighed, and a look of frustration crossed his face. I had killed the mood. Way to go, Christa. Before he could answer and possibly say something that would hurt, I continued on. “Listen. I’m not trying to put you in a corner here—really, I’m not. I don’t ever want to be that woman. It’s just that…” I took a deep breath and hoped I wasn’t about to make a massive fool of myself. “It’s just that I’ve wanted this for so long. I’m happier now than I can remember being in a long time—maybe ever, and I’m not just saying that. If we were to get home and you were to act like this never happened, it might kill me. I don’t think I could take that sort of rejection.” I chuckled, my cheeks burning as I did. “Here I am, a grown woman, worried that the boy I’ve liked for such a long time won’t ask me to the prom.”

  He snorted, then started stroking my back with one hand. The feeling of his touch was reassuring. I hadn’t completely killed what was between us. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  “Sure.”

  “You’re not the only one who wanted that—and don’t tell me that’s a surprise, either.”

  I couldn’t help giggling. “You’re not an easy man to read, Paxton Lewis. I can’t say I was ever sure. You had me feeling like a yo-yo—up one minute, down the next.”

  He nodded. “I know I’m not easy. I’m sorry. Still, you have to know why I wanted to hold back.”

  “Work.”

  “Yeah. And other things.” He grimaced. “It wasn’t easy for me in the beginning, when we first met. Everything was still raw with my divorce. I had to figure out who I was after that. By then, once I felt stronger, we had already known each other for a long time and we had a good thing going on at work. You know that kind of thing rarely works out.”

  “I know,” I admitted. How many times had I heard stories of girlfriends whose hearts got broken by coworkers they were forced to see every day?

  “I didn’t want to do that to us, first off—and I didn’t want to lose my best agent, either.”

  I warmed all over in a way that was totally non-sexual. “I’m your best agent?” I asked.

  “What do you think? You know me. I don’t just say things like that to make people feel good.”

  “No, that’s true,” I smirked. It could feel like pulling teeth, trying to get a compliment from him.

  “You’re good at making the clients feel safe. You’re good at relating to them, getting them to open up. We can’t work with clients who are too busy fighting everything we ask of them to let us protect them. You take that issue away, even with the toughest cases. I know I can trust you to do that.”

  “And you know what you’re good at? Seeing the strengths in your employees.”

  “Yeah? You think so?”

  I nodded emphatically. “You’re a whiz.”

  I could tell he felt flattered—then he cleared his throat, getting back to the subject at hand. “As for when we get back… It’s not that I want this to end. I don’t. I’m not even sure what ‘this’ is, but I like it a lot.”

  “Me, too,” I interjected, and I hated the eagerness in my voice.

  He seemed to overlook it as he continued. “It’s just a chance we have to take, I guess.”

  “So you want us? Going forward?”

  “Why don’t we enjoy what we have right now, then feel it out as we go along
when we get home?” He stroked my hair, my face. I closed my eyes and leaned my cheek against his palm. “We don’t have to rush anything. We can enjoy finally having what we’ve both wanted. There’s no reason to force things or rush them. But no—I will not go home and pretend this never happened, if it makes you feel better to know that.”

  It did. I couldn’t explain how much it did if I had a million years in which to do it. I felt like my entire world was opening up, sparkling and dazzling and new. Full of promise for the first time in forever.

  ***

  “And that was the last time I ever had a conversation with my dad. He died a few weeks later, but was intubated the rest of the time so I never got to hear his voice again.” I swiped a hand over my cheek to catch the single tear that fell. It had been six years, but sometimes the pain felt fresh.

  “I’m so sorry that happened. I remember you telling me at the time about his service.”

  I nodded, settling back in against his chest once the threat of weeping was past. “Oh, yeah. Thirty-one years in the Naval Reserve. Master Chief at retirement. Twenty-six years on the force—he didn’t even join until he was in his mid-thirties.”

  “Which is incredible, by the way. I can’t imagine going through the physical tests now, and I’m still in good shape.”

  “He kicked the hell out of every single young man in his class.” I couldn’t help but feel proud when I remembered. “He did the most sit-ups and push-ups, too. Maybe fifteen years older than some of the others. He never did anything half-assed.”

  “Like his daughter.” Pax’s arms tightened a little around me. “He passed on a lot of those qualities to you. You’ve never half-assed anything. I wish I could thank him for that.”

  “I wish you could, too.” I sighed. “And now Mom. I’m gonna be an orphan before I know it.”

  “She’s a strong lady. She’ll hang in there for years.”

  “Yeah, but she’s already gone in a way. I’ve had to get myself used to that, you know? Her body is there, and sometimes her mind is still there, too. But most of the time, she’s like a stranger. She’s not the person I used to know. Sure, she always had a stubborn streak. She had to have the last word. But she was always cheerful, always working around the house. She couldn’t sit still. And now she can’t do any of those things—not that she’s physically incapable, but she just doesn’t have the inclination. She’s totally different.”

  “She’s still in there, somewhere,” he whispered. “But I understand what you mean. I really do. It’s cruel.”

  “It is.” I bit my lip. It felt insanely selfish, but I had to say it. “I’m jealous of the guys at the agency.”

  “What? Why?” I couldn’t believe he actually sounded surprised.

  “Because they get to work full-time, active. And I don’t. I miss it so much. I feel useless. I hate that.”

  “You’re not useless. You’re very useful. I miss you like crazy—we all do, but me most of all. Not just because I like watching your ass move in a tight pair of jeans, either.”

  I giggled helplessly, giddy at the thought that he was checking me out like that. To think I used to second-guess myself all the time.

  “I miss you because you’re fantastic at everything you do. And as soon as you’re ready to get things rolling again…”

  “That’s just it. I don’t know when that’s going to happen. I hate the feeling that everything’s up in the air. How much more understanding can you possibly be? And don’t answer as the man who’s naked in bed with me. Answer as my boss.”

  “I can be as understanding as you need me to be,” he insisted. “And I can be supportive, too. If you ever decide it’s too much for you to handle, I stand behind you fully. I’ll even help you find a place for your mom if it comes down to that. You deserve to keep living your life. That means working, because it makes you happy.”

  I sighed. It felt good, hearing that somebody saw things from the perspective of my best interests, but I still wasn’t sold. “Thank you for being here for me,” I whispered.

  “I’m always here for you. You know that, right? I mean, anything you need.”

  “I know. I wouldn’t even be here right now if it wasn’t for you. Remember?” I stretched up to meet his lips with mine. “Thank you for that, too. It seems like I have a lot to thank you for tonight.”

  He smiled wickedly as he took my hand and moved it down, down, down, to where he was growing again. My eyes went wide as I giggled. “Well, well, Mr. Lewis.”

  “I was thinking about giving you something else to thank me for tonight,” he growled as he rolled me onto my back. I took him in my arms and told myself to forget everything else—all the past, all the sadness, all the years of waiting for what was finally happening between us. My heart swelled with joy until I was sure it would burst.

  Chapter Nine – Pax

  The next few days felt like something out of a dream. There was nothing for us to do but play. We swam, sunbathed, read, drank way too many fruity drinks—I had always sworn I would never do that, but they were damn good—and took long walks on the beach. That was when we weren’t humping like sex-crazed teenagers, of course.

  That was always the best stage of any relationship. That incredible early stage when everything was new and fresh and exciting and sex was the only thing on our minds. Everything else happened around our time in bed…or in the shower…or on the floor…or against the wall…

  And it wasn’t just the sex. It was the talking. We talked our hearts out for hours on end, sometimes until the sun started coming up and there was nothing left to do but pass out from sheer exhaustion. Until our voices cracked and we needed water because we had talked ourselves hoarse. We laughed. We even got a little choked up from time to time.

  Like when I told her how it felt to lose Lizzie when she was just a baby.

  “You didn’t lose her,” she whispered.

  “It sure as hell felt like I did.”

  “I know. But I’ve seen her. Remember, when you brought her around that one time?”

  I thought back and could dimly remember a day when we had to stop in at the office during one of our weekends. “Right. Weren’t you there, doing paperwork or something?”

  She nodded from across the table where a downright sinful dinner was spread before us. Everything was delicious, across the board, and with all the activity we were engaged in throughout the day I had a stronger appetite than I’d had in years. “Right, and she sat with me for a little while until you were finished with your phone calls.”

  “Sure. I do remember now.” I smiled a little. “I liked bringing her in, showing her what I do.”

  “And she liked being there,” Christa smiled. She was gorgeous, all tanned and blonde and glowing. Her eyes seemed to jump out of her bronze skin, and the light-colored dresses she always wore only highlighted how much good the trip was doing for her.

  “She did?”

  “Sure.” I watched as she swept her golden hair over one shoulder, revealing her throat. I wanted to kiss that throat—just the sight of it got me thinking along lines that definitely had nothing to do with food. She was like a drug. “We talked and she asked questions. She’s obviously so smart and self-possessed.”

  “She is, for sure,” I smiled like a proud father.

  “And she’s respectful and kind and thoughtful.”

  “That’s all her mom, of course.”

  “But!” She held up a finger. “She wanted to know all about what you do. She wasn’t one of those bored, unaffected kids who just sits there and rolls their eyes when they hear about what their parents do. She wanted to know. She asked specific questions about you and who you are and how big the agency is, that sort of thing. She was fascinated. And by the time we were finished, I could tell she was proud of you.”

  She couldn’t have said anything better. “You think so?”

  “I know so. Every kid needs to feel proud of their parents, don’t you think? I know I did. I know the diff
erence it can make.” Her smile was kind, beautiful.

  I reached across the table to take her hand. “Thank you. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

  She winked. “You’re welcome. Now. Let’s eat some seafood.”

  ***

  “It’s still so warm!” She laughed, wading farther out until the water reached her thighs. “Come on!”

  “Aren’t we supposed to wait two hours or something?” Still, I couldn’t resist her. I wasn’t serious, anyway. I took off my shoes and shirt, then started wading out to meet her. She had an impulsive streak I was never aware of before then, and I liked it. Just running into the water fully-dressed, not caring.

  The sun was setting, making the sky erupt in reds and oranges and yellows, all blending together. And against that was her, holding her arms out, laughing. Even in the dimming light I could still see the sand under her feet, it was that clear. The dress billowed around her waist, washed back and forth by the gentle waves.

  I took her in my arms and held her tight, kissing her. She wrapped her arms around my neck and held on tight. There was a deep core of need in her, but I had the same need inside me. Maybe that was what made us good together. We had been without each other for so long. I couldn’t remember ever seeing her with a guy before—she had never talked about a boyfriend, which was unfathomable to me. How could a woman so beautiful, so perfect, not get snapped up in a heartbeat? I wondered if she wasn’t holding herself back for me all that time, but I didn’t have the nerve to ask. It didn’t seem like the kind of question a man asked a woman, anyway.

  A wave came in that almost knocked us over, and she clutched me and squealed as the water reached her chest. “I misjudged how deep we went,” she laughed.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t let you drown.” I picked her up in my arms and spun in a slow circle. She kicked and squealed again.

  “Put me down!”