"I wanted you and I thought you wanted me, too. But you left."
"I'm not going anywhere." His gaze met hers as he carefully placed his firearm and holster on the floor by his jacket.
"Why now?"
"Because I'm tired of fighting it. I want you so much I ache, and I'm tired of going home with a killer hard-on that no amount of cold showers can cure. I'm tired of lying awake, picturing you naked like I was sixteen again. Imagining my face in your breasts, and you and me having wild sex. It's time I stopped thinking about it so much and got busy." He flexed his wrists and worked at the buttons there. "You were telling me the truth about those birth control pills, weren't you?"
"Yes."
He tore at the shirt and threw it toward his jacket. "Then it's time I make love to you," he said and came at her, wrapping her in his arms as his mouth swooped to take possession. He ran a hand down her back to her behind, then he gently pushed her to the couch positioning her so that she lay on her back. He knelt on one knee between her thighs, his other foot was planted on her floor, and he pulled back to look down at her with hungry eyes. Gabrielle's robe lay open, exposing her right leg and hip and the slope of her left breast. He untied the belt and moved aside the terry cloth material. His hot gaze touched her everywhere. Lingered on the thin triangle of islet and hearts covering her crotch, then slowly up her abdomen to the stiff underwires of her bra, pushing her breasts together.
"Do you remember the night I walked into your backyard and found you floating in the kiddie pool?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"I wanted to do this." He leaned over her and placed his palms beneath her shoulders. He lifted, then nestled his face in her cleavage. He placed soft kisses between her breasts as she ran her hands across his bare shoulders and down his smooth back. She wrapped one leg around his waist and pressed into him. A low groan tumbled deep in his throat as he pressed back, shoving his hard erection against her crotch. Everything in her consciousness focused on him, the pleasure of his touch, and the dull ache between her legs. His soft kisses made her insane for more, and she arched her back, pressing the fullest part of her breast to his lips. He lifted his gaze to hers and smiled, then he opened his mouth and sucked her through her thin bra. He drove her wild with the slow, undulating rhythm of his hips. Through the narrow strip of her panties and the wool of his pants, he turned her liquid inside. Her skin burned, her nipples tightened, and she dug her fingers into his shoulders and ground against him. He slid his hand from beneath her shoulder and grasped her thigh. Stopping her.
"Slow down, honey, or I'll embarrass myself right here, before the really good part begins."
"I thought this was the really good part."
His quiet laughter filled the space between their lips. "It gets better."
"How?"
"I'll show you, but not on the couch." He stood, drew her to her feet, then pulled her from the room. "I like a bed where I can spread out while I work." They made it as far as the dining room, where she paused to kiss the side of his throat. She tasted his cologne and she slid a hand across his flat abdomen, down the front of his pants, and found the long hard length of him. Then before she knew what he was doing, he picked her up and set her on top of the cool table. Her hand knocked the telephone, and it crashed to the floor. Neither cared.
"The first time I saw you, you jogged past me on the greenbelt, and I thought you had the sweetest legs and ass this side of heaven. I thought you were about the best-looking woman I'd ever seen." He sat in a ladder-back chair and kissed the inside of one calf.
"You thought I was a felon."
"Didn't mean I was opposed to seeing you naked." He pressed his lips to the inside of her knee. "Didn't mean I wasn't looking forward to a strip search. Doesn't mean I don't know what a lucky son of a bitch I am."
Gabrielle's gaze took in his hair and the smile he brushed against her inner thigh. Passion smoldered in his dark eyes as the tip of his tongue touched the mole a few scant inches below the elastic leg band of her panties. Her breath caught in her throat and he held her there, suspended, turning her insides hotter, and making her wonder what he would do next. "Or taste you right here," he said and softly drew her skin into his warm mouth. Every pinpoint of desire in her body intensified and burned, making her jumpy at the same time as it held her frozen in place. His hand slipped up the inside of her thigh to the islet covering her crotch. His thumb brushed her through the thin material, and he lifted his head and looked up at her.
"How does that feel?"
"Good, Joe."
He scooted the chair as close to the table as possible. "This has driven me insane." He wrapped one arm around her waist, then he dipped his head and sucked her shallow navel just below her belly ring. His grip on her upper thigh tightened while his thumb continued to lightly stroke her through her moist panties. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, shutting out everything but the exquisite pleasure of his hand and his mouth kissing a wet path up her stomach to the inside slope of her right breast. He drew her sensitive skin into his mouth, then pushed aside one cup of her bra and took her nipple into his hot, wet mouth.
Gabrielle moaned and arched her back, lost to the erotic pull of his lips and the smooth texture of his tongue. He slipped two fingers beneath the elastic leg band of her panties and touched her slick flesh, caressing her exactly where she wanted it most, at the place where every sensation pooled and intensified. She tried to close her legs to hold the pleasure of it in, but he stood between her knees. Then cool air brushed across the tip of her moist breast, and she heard him whisper her name. Her eyes fluttered open, and his face was so close mat his nose brushed hers.
"Gabrielle," he said again, and then he kissed her, as soft and sweet as the first. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he stood with her in his embrace. Looking into his deep brown eyes, her heart swelled with so much emotion she couldn't hide from it anymore. She'd never been very good at hiding anyway.
The hooks of her bra released, and the thin scrap of material fell away. She pressed her naked breasts into his chest and slid one hand down his side and across his smooth back, over the dip in his spine and the hollow of his waist where he'd stuck a nicotine patch. She loved touching him, feeling his flesh beneath her hands. Her fingers slid around his woven leather belt, and she unbuckled and unbuttoned until his pants lay open. Then she pulled back and looked at him. She easily pushed his pants down his thighs and gazed at a pair of white boxers with the words joe boxer on the waistband. He kicked his shoes and trousers aside, then tore at his socks until his feet were bare. He took her hand, and this time they did make it to her bedroom.
Her feet sank in the thick white carpet as her gaze moved up his powerful calves to the scar marring his hard thigh. "I can massage it for you," she offered, her voice sounding thick to her own ears as she brushed the scar with the tips of her fingers.
He reached for her hand, moved it up a few inches, and blatantly pressed her palm to the thick ridge of his erection. "Massage this."
"Well, I am almost a professional," she said and slipped her hand beneath the waistband of his shorts and wrapped his hot, hot flesh in her palm. She closed her fist around him and lightly stroked from the base of his rock-hard penis all the way to the smooth, plump head. Her other hand pushed his boxers down his thighs, and she was free to look at him. For the first time to see his powerful body, to view him as an artist who had a deep appreciation for beauty, and as a woman who wanted to make love to the beautiful man who made her heart swell.
She took a step closer, and her nipples brushed his chest. The hot tip of his erection touched her belly, and within her grasp, she rubbed the length of him against her flat stomach and navel. A clear drop of semen smeared her skin as she kissed the hollow of his throat, his shoulder, and the side of his neck. She slid one hand up his chest and looked into his heavy-lidded eyes. "So, when do I get the really good part?"
He nuzzled the side of her throat and groaned, "As soon as you le
t go of it."
The second she released him, he picked her up beneath the armpits and tossed her on her bed. "Take off those panties," he ordered as he crawled across the duvet to join her in the middle. He helped her pull her underwear down her legs, pausing to kiss her hip, before he pitched her panties over his shoulder, then knelt between her knees. His gaze stared into hers, then lowered to between her thighs. His fingers caressed her belly, her hips, and her slick, sensitive flesh, bringing her close before he stopped and rested his weight on one forearm. "Are you sure you're ready for the really good part?" he asked and brought the broad head of his penis into place.
"Yes," she whispered, and he shoved the long, hard length of him into her. Her eyes widened, her breath caught in the top of her lungs, and she cried out. Then he withdrew and buried himself even deeper.
"Holy Mary mother of God," he groaned and cupped the sides of her face in his palms. He kissed her, his tongue plunging into her mouth as he thrust slowly into her body. She wrapped one leg around his waist, planted her other foot by his knee, and moved with him, matching the rhythm of his pumping hips. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and kissed him back, matching his greed and passion. With each thrust he propelled them closer to climax. And with each thrust, he stroked a place deep, deep inside until she could no longer breathe, and she tore her mouth from his and sucked air into her lungs. The pressure built, and her grasp on his shoulders tightened.
"Joe," she whispered, wanting to tell him how she felt, but there were no words. She wanted to tell him that she'd never felt anything so good and dizzy and hot. She looked up into his tense, strained features as he drove into her, and she wanted him to know she'd never felt so incredible, that he was incredible, and she loved him. That he was her yang, but then he reached beneath her bottom, tilted her pelvis up, and increased the sensation of each thrust, forcing her toward climax. Her heart pounded in her ears, and every ounce of her body, mind, and soul was focused on the slick parts of them where they were joined. She opened her mouth, but all she was capable of uttering was the word yes, followed by a long, satisfied moan.
"That's right, come for me," he whispered, and it was as if the sound of his voice triggered her long, hard fall. Her body tensed and arched as orgasm hit and took over completely. The power of it shook her and squeezed him within her tight body while he plunged harder and deeper. It went on and on, the sensations rolling through her until at last an anguished groan tore from his chest and his harsh breath whispered across her temple. He drove into her one last time, then stilled.
In the aftermath, the only sound was the catching of breath and a siren wailing off in the distance. Every place their skin touched, it stuck together, and a bead of sweat slid down Joe's temple.
A smile slowly curved the corners of his lips.
"That was amazing," she said.
"No," he corrected, pausing to plant a kiss on her mouth, "you are amazing."
Gabrielle unwrapped her leg from his waist.
He grasped her thigh as if he thought she planned to move away and he didn't want her to go. "Do you have someplace you need to be?"
"No."
"Then why don't you just stay where you are, and I'll just stay were I am?"
"Right here? Naked?"
"Uh-huh." He combed his fingers through her hair, and his hip slowly moved. He withdrew, then buried himself, and the sensation all coiled and built again. "I want more of the really good part. How about you?"
Yeah, she wanted more. She wanted a lot more of him, but beyond wanting Joe, she wasn't ready to face the world outside her house. Not yet. She hooked her leg over his waist again, and they started slow, with light, lingering touches, but things turned too hot too quick and somehow they ended up on the floor, rolling around on top of all those naughty pairs of underwear she'd thrown there the night before. She finally landed on top astride his hips.
"Put your hands behind your head," she ordered.
Suspicion shone in his eyes, but he did as she asked. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to blow your mind."
"That's a bold statement."
Gabrielle just smiled. She'd taken six months of belly dancing, just enough to know how to roll and undulate real good. She raised her hands high in the air and rotated her hips as she swayed. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the feeling of him touching her deep inside. "You like this?"
"God-d da-mn!"
Her smile grew, and with him buried deep inside, she blew his mind.
"Are you sure I don't smell like a girl?" Joe asked for the third time as he stood in her dining room and pulled his boxers to his waist.
Gabrielle buried her nose in his neck. After they'd picked themselves up off her bedroom floor, she'd dragged him into the shower and revived him with a loofah and a special bar of her homemade lilac soap. He'd stopped complaining about the girly smell when she'd knelt before him and soaped him up real good. "I don't think so," she said as she stepped into her panties, then hooked her bra in place. He smelled like Joe to her.
She folded her arms beneath her breasts, leaned her behind against the table, and watched him button his pants around his waist. The overhead light caressed the russet waves of his wet hair.
"I don't want you to answer the telephone today," he said as he walked into the living room and reached for his shirt and jacket. "At least not until after three. Kevin might try and contact you after his arraignment-I would suggest you don't talk to him." He shoved his arms into his shirt and buttoned the wrists before he worked on the front. "And be sure you eat something healthy. I don't want you getting sick."
What was it with him and food? Gabrielle watched him from the distance of the dining room, loving him so much it hurt. She didn't know how it had happened, but it had. He wasn't the type of man she'd thought she wanted, but he was the man for her. She felt it in the quick beating of her heart and the horrible flutter in her stomach, and she knew it in her soul. It was more than great sex. More than mind-blowing orgasms. He was her male to his female. Positive to negative.
There was only one little spot of potential misgiving on her otherwise blissful euphoria. She wasn't certain if he realized it too.
He shoved one hand into the pocket of his jacket, pulled out his pager, and glanced at the display. "Maybe you should stay with your mother for a few days. Shit. Where's the phone?"
Gabrielle pointed to her feet, where it lay sprawled across the floor. He grabbed his jacket and shoulder holster and walked back into the dining room. With one hand, Joe scooped up the telephone. With his thumb, he pressed the disconnect button, then pushed the seven digits.
"Shanahan," he said as he set his holster and jacket on the table. "Yeah, my pager was in my car… what can I tell you? I just found the telephone off the hook." He shoved the tails of his shirt into his pants, then reached for the jacket. "Tell me you're bullshitting. It's not even noon!" With the telephone cradled between his ear and shoulder, he pushed his arms through the sleeves. "When was that?… I'm on my way," he said and dropped the receiver back in the cradle.
"Shit!"
"What?"
He glanced at her, then sat on the ladder-back chair and pulled on his socks. "I can't even believe this is happening to me. Not on top of everything else."
"What?"
Joe covered his face with his hands and scratched his forehead as if his skin was way too tight. "Damn," he sighed and dropped his hands. "Carter and Shalcroft changed the meeting time. They were arrested fifteen minutes ago. Dispatch tried to contact me, but couldn't." He stood and shoved his feet into his shoes.
"Oh."
Grabbing his holster, he raced for the door. "Don't talk to anyone until I talk to you again," he said over his shoulder. He yelled a few more obscenities, then ran from her house without even saying good-bye.
Chapter Fifteen
Joe cranked the steering wheel and flipped a U in the middle of Gabrielle's street. The right tire hopped the curb as he tore at the
nicotine patch at his waist and chucked it out the window. He shoved his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and dug around in the glove compartment until he found a pack of Marlboros. He lipped a cigarette from the pack and lit it with his Zippo. A cloud of smoke billowed toward the windshield, and he took another long pull. His jaws were clenched so tight his teeth felt as if they would shatter, and he didn't know how he would explain the new dent in the Chevy. The dent that was exactly the size of his foot. He'd love to kick his own ass, if it were humanly possible.
The biggest arrest of his life, and he'd missed it. Missed it because he'd been having sex with his confidential informant. It didn't matter that maybe technically she hadn't been his informant at the moment of penetration; he'd been on duty and dispatch hadn't been able to contact him. There would be questions. He didn't have the answers. None that he wanted to give, anyway. Questions like Where the hell have you been, Shanahan?
And what could he say-"Well, Captain, since the arrest wasn't supposed to go down until three, I thought I had plenty of time to have sex with my informant!" Joe scratched his forehead and took another drag. "And hey, she has the most incredible body, after I made love to her once, I got greedy and had to have sex with her again. And that second time was so phenomenal I thought I needed a precoital thump to restart my heart. And captain, you have not had a shower until you've been soaped up and scrubbed down by Gabrielle Breedlove." And if he admitted that, he'd probably have to turn in his badge and become a security guard.
Another cloud of smoke filled the car as Joe exhaled. There was a chance no one would discover his affair with Gabrielle. He certainly didn't feel the need to broadcast the incident or unburden his conscience. But she might, and then he was screwed. When the case went to trial, he could just imagine Kevin's defense attorney grilling him with questions like Isn't it true, Detective Shanahan, that you've had a sexual relationship with your informant, my client's business partner? And isn't this just a case of jealousy perpetrated against my client?
It Must Be Love Page 21
