Body Heat

by Carly Phillips

  She shrugged. “I was shopping today and I saw a man looking at me.”

  “Honey, you’re beautiful. Men are going to look.”

  “Thank you.” She blushed again. Her gaze met his and lingered, the electricity between them steady and hot, causing a pulsing throughout his body that he couldn’t deny.

  “But this guy was different,” she said, bringing them back to the issue at hand. “I mean, it felt different. I was on Fifth Avenue and he didn’t look like your average guy in a business suit during lunch hour. He had this crewcut and leering gaze. And I saw him again. Well, I thought I did, through the window of a coffee shop. And then I blinked and he was gone. And I thought…” She paused, obviously thinking things through.

  The ice cream had begun to melt over the cone and dampen the napkin surrounding it. All erotic thoughts gone for the moment, he eased the ice cream out of her hand and dumped their messy cones into the trash next to the bench. “You thought what?”

  “That it was happening again.” She began twisting her fingers together, and he stilled the nervous movement by covering her hands with his. She shot him a grateful glance.

  “You thought what was happening again?”

  “When my parents died, I had a hard time.” She shook her head. “Actually, it started before that. My parents weren’t what you’d call stay-at-home parents. My dad was a stockbroker and he’d done fairly well in some good markets. He had savings, and since they liked to live on the edge, their money went for extreme sports—hot-air ballooning, bungee jumping, motorcycle trips. Good thing the neighbors liked us because we spent a lot of time sleeping at their homes, and my parents weren’t reliable about when they’d return. Sometimes I thought they wouldn’t come back at all. That’s when it started.”

  Jake wasn’t sure where she was going with her story but he wanted to hear more. This was the insight he craved and he wanted to listen as well as to help. “When what started?” he asked.

  “Anxiety attacks. I swear, I was such a nervous kid.”

  He squeezed her hand tight. “Understandable, I’d think. And you must have overcome it well because I’d never have known if you hadn’t told me.”

  “Well, I was lucky I had a good school psychologist, and when I got older I learned stress management techniques. Things quieted down for a long time, acted up again after the accident. Maybe because they had to. It’s amazing what you can accomplish when life forces you to grow up quick.”

  “What accident?”

  She frowned, making him want to touch her face, stroke and smooth out the wrinkled skin and then kiss her puckered lips. But he refrained, knowing he would have time later on. For now, he needed her to continue.

  “I told you I raised my brother, right? Because my parents died in a small plane crash. Dad was piloting.”

  She shivered and Jake winced. “I’m sorry.”

  “It was their choice. Literally. They went up in a storm, weather even the FAA warned against flying in.” She sighed, obviously resigned. “So the panic attacks got worse and I went for some short-term help. I needed to get myself under control so I could take care of Marc. And I did. It’s been ages since I’ve experienced any kind of true anxiety.”

  “Until today.”

  “Until today,” she agreed.

  “Then, maybe we ought to give it some credence?” Jake knew he already was. The prickling feeling on his skin and in his gut was strong and sure. He just couldn’t put his finger on what was wrong. Yet.

  She let out a huge exhale of air, obviously relieved he believed her. “I doubt it. I think I just needed to get it out in the open to see how ridiculous I was being.”

  “Feelings are never ridiculous and too often they’re grounded in fact.”

  Huge green eyes met his. “Yes, but in my case, I’m probably overreacting. It’s probably related to you.”

  He could see she wasn’t comfortable with the admission. He was confused. “How so?”

  She swallowed hard. “I hadn’t had an anxiety attack in a while, right? And then I met you and we have this instant attraction, and I discover you’re just like them. Next thing you know, boom. Another anxiety attack.” She gnawed on her lower lip as she explained.

  “I’m just like who?”

  “My parents. They lived for taking risks. And that’s what you do on your job, right? Take risks?” One hand reached out and touched his shoulder.

  He felt the impact of her touch, the heat and the need, straight down to his toes, but her reassurance didn’t help. He was damn sure he didn’t like the comparison. “Difference is, I take certain risks in order to do my job, but I don’t take unnecessary ones. And I don’t do the job as a way of taking risks. Your parents did it for fun.”

  “But you both knowingly, willingly, put yourselves in danger.”

  He couldn’t deny the obvious so he remained silent. She’d equated him to her parents, two people she obviously loved but who’d let her down in the worst way. He’d just met her and was in this for a summer fling. So why did her analogy bother him so much?

  “Look, all I’m trying to say is, thanks for listening to my foolishness. There’s a reason I panicked, and now that I talked it out I can put it and his disgusting tattoo behind me.”

  “Tattoo?” Jake’s nerve endings went on alert, the reason for his wariness and churning gut all too apparent.

  “Yes. I don’t know what made me think of it now. The guy was in one of those white tank tops, and he had a crooked arrow on his right arm. Biceps. Here—” She pointed to her right arm and shivered. “Tattoos always grossed me out.”

  “Crooked arrow?” Jake asked tersely.

  She nodded. “Like this—” She drew the shape with her hand.

  Revulsion and fury raced through his veins. In light of Brianne’s history of well-founded anxiety, he had no intention of mentioning that the insignia on the pills he’d just found matched the tattoo on her stalker’s arm—the same tattoo that was on Ramirez’s right biceps.

  He refused to enlighten her and worry her further. The desire to wrap her in his arms and guard her from harm was great. Brianne was no victim. Yet he needed to protect her both physically and emotionally. If she knew there was possible danger relating to Jake and his job, she might bolt. If she returned to her apartment, she’d be vulnerable to Ramirez and Jake would be unable to keep her safe. But if she remained in the penthouse, she’d be safe and secure, at least in the evenings.

  As for daytime, Jake could cover her there as well. First thing in the morning he’d call in a favor and have a detective pal put a tail on her during the day. Thank God, Rina was in Italy, Jake thought. But Frank’s family wasn’t. Unwilling to take further chances, Jake decided to make sure they were covered as well. The department wouldn’t assign men on a hunch—they couldn’t afford the manpower. But both Jake and Frank had friends who wouldn’t mind doing the job. Meanwhile, Jake would step up his digging into Ramirez’s hangouts.

  For now, he would placate her. “Plenty of men have tattoos. We’ll take your suggestion and forget about it, but if you see him again—”

  “I’ll report directly to you, Detective.” She grinned and treated him to a salute. “But since I’m probably right, you can consider it forgotten.”

  A touch of chocolate remained on her lips, daring him to reach out and lick it off with his tongue. Instead, he touched the pad of his finger to her mouth, wiping at the chocolate gently, savoring the soft feel of her lips and taking in the curtain of desire shading her eyes.

  “Know what I’d like to do now?”

  If her voice hadn’t dropped a husky octave, he’d have no idea. But it had, and the desire resonating in her tone renewed the heavy tempo beating inside him.

  “What’s that?”

  She drew a deep breath, and he understood being bold was new to her. “I’d like to go home.”

  “And do what?” He had promised he’d take it slowly. She needed to set the pace, and Jake needed to hear her say th
e words that would free him from his hard-won restraint.

  “Take me home and make me forget.” He didn’t pretend to misunderstand her meaning. And though her words came out a soft whisper, he heard them every place inside him where it counted.

  His gaze never leaving hers, he pulled her to her feet so he could do as she asked. He would take her home.

  BRIANNE KEPT PACE with Jake, her rush to get back as fierce as his. Once she’d unburdened herself and admitted her fears, she saw how ridiculous they were. And once he gave credence to her feelings and didn’t dismiss her with a pat on the head, as her parents used to do, Brianne was able to step back and see things clearly, with renewed perspective.

  She wasn’t being followed. She merely had an overactive imagination, heightened by Jake’s proximity, lifestyle and job. And on the off chance that a stranger had been watching her, she now had Jake aware and on her side. The self-protection course the hospital had insisted its employees take after a rash of rapes a few years back had armed her with knowledge and defensive skills. She’d be fine.

  She could free her mind and concentrate on how much she wanted Jake. Apparently he felt the same, because his hands didn’t leave her body the entire trip back to the apartment. Whether on the small of her back or grasping her hand, he held on to her as they walked, creating a constant state of awareness and a never-ending current of electricity that sparked between them.

  Only when they reached the inside of the apartment building did he break the physical connection between them, stepping aside and allowing her to pass by him and enter the private elevator. For the duration of the ride up, nerves and excitement dominated her emotions. She was about to dive into sexual and emotional unknown territory, and the adrenaline rushed through her at lightning speed.

  She wondered if this was what her parents had felt each time they undertook a new adventure or trip. She’d never understood her mother or father before. But as she walked out of the silent but erotically charged atmosphere of the elevator and entered the penthouse apartment, Brianne came as close as she’d ever been to comprehending the thrill-seekers who’d raised her.

  Jake was new and exciting. Just thinking about him energized her mind and stimulated her body in erotic and arousing ways. Yet as much as she enjoyed each and every sensation he invoked, she feared, too, for he had the power to undo the healing she’d accomplished since her parents’ death, leaving her raw and exposed to someone who didn’t come with a promise of security and had no vision of long-term commitment.

  But unlike her parents, who by definition were supposed to be in Brianne’s life for the long haul, Jake was just passing through. She knew the facts going in; therefore she couldn’t be hurt—right? she asked herself. But no voice answered her with a resounding yes, leaving her to admit she had little faith in her own convictions.

  “We’re here.” Jake’s deep voice intruded on her thoughts.

  She swallowed hard, lifting her eyes from the carpet and meeting his longing stare. He wanted her. She could see the desire flare in the depths of his gaze, a match for the spiraling need building inside her.

  He gestured for her to step into the apartment and she followed, her shoes squeaking on the obviously freshly waxed floor.

  “Where to?” he asked before they could descend into awkward silence.

  An implicit question, Brianne thought. He was asking her where would she like to make love. As she glanced around, liquid heat pooled low in her abdomen and her heart pounded. Her need for Jake was desperate and all-encompassing, but she wasn’t so sure how she felt about her surroundings.

  She took in the white furnishings, the cold marble floors and the gleaming chrome and crystal accents around her. The penthouse, which had once seemed like a luxurious haven, suddenly felt cold and stifling—stark, in contrast to the warm man standing by her side. Where in this austere place could she be with Jake yet be herself, she had no idea. Unsure of what to say in answer to his question, she merely shrugged, hoping he had the answer she did not.

  “Well, I’m using my sister’s room and I’d really prefer not to…well, you know what I mean.”

  “Oh, I do.” She laughed, further explanation on his part unnecessary. “But my room doesn’t really feel like mine. It’s too…”

  “Cold and uncomfortable?” he asked, reading her thoughts.

  She was glad he didn’t find this apartment homey and relaxing, either. “Exactly.”

  “I honestly don’t know what Rina was thinking. This place is so unlike her.” His brow furrowed in confusion, and Brianne found the gesture oddly endearing, so different from the manner of the focused cop who’d answered her questions and deflected her concerns.

  “Me, neither. Rina has this bubbling warmth. I envy her that.” In Jake’s sister, Brianne had seen a freedom of thought and emotion she herself had never had, making her feel almost old in comparison. “But you said her husband liked glitz. Maybe she was making him happy by decorating like this. Maybe it was his presence here that made this place a home for them. And vice versa.” She shook her head and laughed uncomfortably. “Ignore me. I don’t know why I’m rambling like this.”

  “Nerves, most likely.” He nailed her with his correct assumption and innate understanding. “But you’re probably right about Rina and Robert. You’re definitely perceptive.” His voice suddenly grew low and urgent. “And I can’t keep my hands off you for a second longer.” Without hesitation, his palms came to rest on her shoulders.

  Because his skin was hot, he branded her with his touch. And because he was incredibly male, he made her want more than simple conversation or a burning kiss that ended almost before it began.

  “Since my room’s out and your room’s out, I have another suggestion.”

  She glanced over his shoulder. “It had better not involve that white couch with the full-length windows behind it.” She laughed lightly. “So which room will it be?”

  “Our room.”

  As soon as the words were spoken, what had been a light conversation turned into something deeper, stronger and more compelling. The cresting waves of longing she’d held at bay for so long rose furiously inside her. “The gym?”

  He nodded. “Full-length mirrors instead of windows.”

  Her throat grew parched and she couldn’t seem to moisten her dry lips. “Different views.”

  “From different angles. Are you game?”

  She’d come this far and she wanted to go much further. Gathering her courage, she raised herself onto her tiptoes and gave him an answer he couldn’t mistake—a scorching kiss on the lips, the kind that told him she was indeed game. For any view, any angle, anything he desired.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  DESPITE HER PROTESTATIONS Brianne had an adventurous spirit, Jake sensed. She continually proved him right. First her trip to Victoria’s Secret and now this instigation of a kiss. And what a kiss it was. Her tongue glided over the seam of his lips, then retreated, teasing, tormenting him further. His body was strung tight, had been since he’d laid eyes on the beautiful waitress. Unable to wait another second, he grabbed her hand and led her through the apartment, down the hall and into the gym, kicking the door closed and leaving Norton outside.

  The room was the only place in this mausoleum where Jake felt remotely comfortable, the only place he could truly be himself and the only place they’d already marked as theirs. And, for some reason, the place he chose was important to him.

  It mattered to her, too, if her bright eyes and warm expression were anything to go by. She snaked her arms around his neck and treated him to a deeper, mind-blowing kiss, this one ripe with passion and infused with need—the same need he felt growing, coming to life inside him. He twisted his hips slowly, deliberately, erotically tantalizing her with his full erection pressing hard and insistent against his jeans. She groaned and arched against him, seeking more relief than he could provide through the barrier of clothing.

  Jake wanted nothing between them except bare skin.
Her clothes were tight and form-fitting, making it difficult to pull and shift so he could eliminate the impediments and give himself complete access. But once the maneuver was accomplished, his view was incredible, thanks to the mirrors surrounding them and the reflection of light.

  “You like?”

  A light purple bra with flowered lace exposed more than it covered, and he sucked in a ragged breath. “Sweetheart, there’s nothing not to like.” He traced the scalloped edging with one fingertip, trailing a path over her delicate skin. “And everything to admire.” Cherish, bask in, he thought, lowering his head and replacing his touch with his tongue, tasting her bare flesh.

  Her response was a rush of air and a moan of contentment, as he followed a damp path across her heated skin. Her shudder shook him as well. Had he ever before felt the way he did now? Wanted a woman’s pleasure more than his own?

  Jake knew the answer to both questions, and it scared him. He knew he’d have to deal with it sometime, but, for now, the heavy beat of arousal overrode all thought and emotion.

  His hand came to rest beneath her breast, cupping the fullness and allowing him to move from the lacy edging to the nipple peaking in a hard ridge beneath the flowered sheath of material. As he drew the distended tip into his mouth and nipped lightly with his teeth, it hardened even more, and the grip he held on his control nearly shattered.

  Apparently, she felt the same because her hands went for the snap on his jeans. He lifted his head and met her gaze, not wanting her to feel as though she had to go faster to please him. “I promised you slow.”

  “That was before we…came this far.” A blush stained her already made-up cheeks.

  He grinned. “I never said fast wasn’t good, too.”

  God knows, his body would appreciate it if he picked up the pace, but he needed to tell her a few things first. Not just how much he wanted her, but smaller details, too. Things that would let her know she wasn’t just someone he’d screw and forget. She held a special place in his life and his heart, he forced himself to acknowledge, and sleeping with her was the answer to every dream he possessed.