That meant, Riley thought as another surge of excitement shot through her, that Sam was a natural. He was a romantic without even having to think about it. And that was excellent. Because the last thing she wanted either one of them to do right now was think. This wasn’t the time for it, for detailed thoughts to wedge their way into what was happening.
All she wanted was to savor these sensations rushing through her. Savor the feel of his hands on her skin, his mouth on hers, doing wonderful, clever things and making her feel like a Roman candle about to go off at any second, illuminating the darkness.
She felt the mattress against her back as he laid her down, felt the impression of his body against hers as he sank to join her. And she felt her breath all but vanishing as his mouth began to work its way along her torso.
While his lips fueled the fire within her, she could feel his fingers working away at the snap on her shorts. The material parted as he slid the zipper down. Ever so slowly, Sam moved the material along her hips. The slower he moved, the more excited she felt, her flesh burning for the caress of his.
She raised her hips, allowing him to rid her of the last of her clothing as he tugged away both her shorts and white thong.
A frenzy assaulted her. Opening the snap on his jeans, she began to tug them off, trying to sweep them away with just a few well-placed movements.
Riley felt her heart pounding harder and harder as she struggled to divest him of the jeans while he all but held her captive with his magical mouth.
She could feel the eruption gathering, growing in volume and force.
Threatening to go off suddenly.
When Sam pressed the heel of his hand against her core, she climaxed for the first time. That had never happened to her before, not from the mere touch of a man’s hand.
The very sensation stole her breath away.
Arching so that she could feel his hand pressing harder against her, the desire for more filled her entire being. Raising her head, she caught his lips, pressing hers against them. A heated passion assaulted her in waves.
Their bodies mingled as their limbs tangled with one another and Riley moved on top of him. Their mouths slanted over and over again, unable to be satiated.
Demanding more.
Damn but this was different, Sam thought. He’d expected her to be hot, expected to enjoy her while creating a web of pleasure for her, but this went beyond anything he’d imagined. The intensity throbbing through his veins was something he’d never experienced before.
He could feel his pulse racing, his hunger increasing at a breathtaking rate, overpowering him and making it very, very difficult for him to hold himself in check as long as he had planned.
There were no plans anymore, no blueprints on how to proceed. They were caught up in the fire and had burned up.
He was being swept away by a woman he had seriously underestimated. He had thought that making love with Riley would be a pleasant, pleasurable experience. This went so far beyond that that it couldn’t even be measured.
He wanted to reach that final moment, to crest and feel the last, breathtaking surge sweeping through his body. And yet, he still wanted to hold onto the promise of all that was to come, to extend this experience for as long as he could.
This wasn’t normal.
This wasn’t like him.
What the hell was she doing to him?
Still struggling for control, Sam flipped so that he got Riley onto her back again. He saw the surprise in her eyes, the signs of mounting anticipation vibrating throughout her being. Pleased, he began to work his way down her slick, supple body. Nipping at the tempting curves, gliding his tongue along her heated flesh. Priming her with his warm breath that skimmed against her skin.
He heard Riley moan as his mouth teased the center of her passion.
Empowered, imprisoned, he began to use his tongue to flirt with, then press against, her moist, heaving and more-than-willing flesh.
Oh, God, she couldn’t catch her breath. Sam had stolen it from her.
Feeling as if she was in the midst of an out-of-body experience, Riley raised her hips up higher, offering herself to him. Grasping a slice of paradise as the explosion racked her body. She didn’t care about equality, about doing to him what he was doing to her. She just wanted this to go on and on.
And for a moment, it did.
Time seemed to stand still as the sensation swelled and continued.
And then she fell back, exhausted and spent beyond words. Or so she thought.
The next moment, Sam began to move his heated body along hers. Tantalizing her.
Her heart was already pounding hard enough to break through her rib cage. But when she felt him enter her, it sped up even more, beating double-time. The confinements of exhaustion fell away from her.
Riley wrapped her legs around his torso, the rhythm of her body echoing his as the pace heightened. Their movement became increasingly more frantic. She felt Sam wrap his arms about her, holding her to him as if he intended to absorb her wholly into himself.
That excited her. Everything about this man and the magic he wove excited her.
She held on tightly, desperate to keep pace, wanting to feel exactly what he felt at the final moment of impact.
And then it happened.
She reached the peak of the summit with him, felt the fireworks showering around her and prayed that somehow, it could go on forever. And even though it didn’t, even though she could feel the euphoria recede, the sense of contentment that overshadowed the wonder remained with her for far longer than she’d anticipated.
Gladdening her heart.
As she caught her breath, Riley went on holding him to her. Went on savoring everything about the coupling that had taken her by such storm. Slowly, ever so slowly, her breathing evened out.
This had to be what a person felt like when they were struck by lightning, Sam thought, his body still tingling all over. He struggled to get some kind of a grip on himself.
He succeeded only moderately.
Afraid of crushing Riley, he slowly slid off, moving to her side. He was surprised when she turned her body into his. Surprised and pleased more than words could possibly express.
He smiled into her eyes as he closed his arms around her and held her to him.
“You’re full of surprises, McIntyre,” he said, whispering the words against her hair.
McIntyre.
Not “Riley” but “McIntyre.” Was he trying to distance himself from what had just happened? Now that they had made love, did he want to reestablish the boundaries of their ongoing relationship? Did this make her sad, or provide her with the safety net she so badly needed?
Damn, but nothing made sense right now. She couldn’t think, couldn’t see her way clearly to any one sentiment yet.
“I like keeping you on your toes,” she finally answered. She felt him laugh and the sound rumbled against her chest. She turned her head to look at him. “What?”
Amusement curved the corners of his mouth. “Let’s just say it wasn’t my toes that were being called into action.”
She could almost feel his smile against her hair, against her forehead. “Sorry, anatomy wasn’t my best subject in school.”
He trailed his fingertips along her curves, stroking her ever so slowly. Excitement began to vibrate between them. “I would have never guessed. You seemed pretty knowledgeable to me.”
“Smoke and mirrors,” she quipped, though it was beginning to take considerable effort to remain focused on what he was saying.
“Felt a little more solid than smoke to me,” he told her.
She raised her head to look at him. She’d always disliked women who insisted on having a relationship mapped out for them at every conceivable turn. But Sam was her partner and she was pretty sure that they had just violated at least several very basic ground rules.
“Is what just happened going to get in our way?” she asked.
He was quiet for a moment, as if c
onsidering what she’d just asked from all possible angles. “Well, that depends.”
Her eyes never left his face. She’d looked at him countless times. So why did she suddenly feel this onrush of heat, of excitement? How had the dynamics between them changed so much?
“On?” she asked.
Sam ran the back of his hand along her cheek. Wanting her. “On whether or not we stop to do this when we’re supposed to be going after the bad guy.”
“Seriously,” Riley pressed.
Humor played along his mouth. “What makes you think I wasn’t being serious?” Pulling her to him so that her body was suddenly on top of his, Sam stroked the sides of her torso. Watching in fascination as he saw desire flaring in her eyes. “I was deadly serious,” he told her, raising his head to capture her lips again.
Instantly undone, she didn’t press the subject again for a good long while. It amazed her that she could be so hungry so fast after feasting for so long.
But she was.
Chapter 13
It didn’t take long.
Another home invasion occurred Wednesday, four days later. The invasion had all the earmarks of the other three cases. The thieves entered the house without having to resort to force despite the fact that, according to the frightened homeowners, every single window in the house was closed and locked, as were the front and back doors.
The inhabitants, this time a couple in their early seventies, had been in bed, asleep, like all the other victims. They’d been rousted, dragged from their bed, tied up and then chloroformed while their home was ransacked.
“There’s got to be a common element here, there has to be. What is it that we’re missing?” Riley demanded for the umpteenth time, pacing in front of the bulletin board where they had religiously tacked up all the available information on each invasion.
“A lot of sleep,” Sam murmured. He sat at his desk, his chair turned around so that he faced the bulletin board. Nothing seemed to stand out to him either.
The tone of his voice wedged itself into her admittedly scattered thoughts. Riley turned looked at her partner.
Afraid that Saturday night would change things between them, she could have saved herself the trouble of worrying. The following Monday, when she came into work, Sam had behaved as if it was business as usual, making absolutely no mention of what had transpired between them. Taking her partner’s cue, relieved and yet not so relieved, Riley had done the same. And continued to do so.
But occasionally, she’d catch Sam watching her, an unreadable expression on his face.
Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on her part—or her pride. After all, what woman wanted to believe that she was forgettable or could be so easily dismissed?
She hadn’t exactly expected Sam to sweep her into his arms when she walked into the squad room, but a random private word or two, a secret, intimate glance, wouldn’t have been entirely out of order. After all, she was fairly certain that the sheets on his bed had gotten really scorched Saturday night before she, exhausted, had elected to go home rather than come up with an excuse for Lisa in the morning as to why she was still there in the clothes she’d worn the day before.
“You losing sleep over this, Wyatt?” Riley asked archly.
“This among other things,” he answered. And then he lowered his voice before continuing. “Lisa wants to know when you’re coming over.”
“Lisa,” she repeated.
Was he being straightforward and just relaying his daughter’s question, or was he using his daughter as a shill to cover up the fact that he wanted to know when she was coming over?
God, when did things suddenly become this complicated?
“Yeah, Lisa.” His expression continued to be unreadable. “You remember, short little thing.” He held his hand up approximately three and a half feet from the floor. “Talks like an old person even though she’s only six.” He paused, as if debating whether or not to say the next thing. “She wants to know if I did something to make you stop coming over. I told her I didn’t think so, but she’s not convinced.” His eyes held hers, pregnant with things that weren’t being said. “Did I?”
“No.” She cleared her throat, wondering where this sudden case of nerves came from. Nerves neatly wrapped around a ray of sunshine. “Then I guess I’ll have to come over.” This time, she was the one looking into his eyes. “If Lisa wants to see me.”
He glanced away, back at the bulletin board. Sam tilted his chair. “Yeah, she does.”
“If you two are finished talking about your social agenda,” Barker bit off, suddenly materializing behind them, “maybe one of you can tell me how the investigation’s coming along?”
The lieutenant’s dark brown eyes shifted from Sam to her.
That proved it, Riley thought. The man was the devil. “Which one?” she asked him politely.
“All of them,” he growled.
Sam rose from his chair, moving so that his body was between Barker and Riley.
“The Hayworths kept to themselves for the most part,” Sam told the lieutenant. “According to the descriptions they gave the first officer on the scene and then again to us, the two robbers were the same ones who robbed the other three houses. As far as McIntyre and I can see, this new couple has almost nothing in common with the other victims.” Before Barker could comment, Sam enumerated. “They all drive different cars, have different careers—the Hayworths are retired,” he inserted. “Move in different circles.”
Barker was in no mood to play review. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before and I don’t want to hear it again,” he snapped. “I also don’t want to hear any more excuses. The next thing I want to hear is that you’ve cracked the case.” His eyes swept over Sam and Riley, then took in the two detectives sitting closest to them, Sung and Allen. His manner was clear. As far as he was concerned, the whole department was responsible for this less-than-stellar performance. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Absolutely,” Riley replied with the kind of cheerful enthusiasm she knew annoyed Barker and got under the man’s skin.
The lieutenant’s dark brown eyes grew even darker as he narrowed them to focus only on her. “As long as we understand each other.”
With that, the former marine turned on his well-worn heel and stalked back into his glass office. The blinds remained opened so that nothing would escape his attention.
“He makes Darth Vader come off like Pollyanna,” Riley commented, keeping her voice low even though Barker had closed his door. She’d turned her back to the man’s office. Barker was ornery enough to have learned how to read lips. “By the way, you didn’t have to run interference for me,” she told Sam. “I can take care of myself.”
“Haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about, McIntyre,” Sam said, his expression giving nothing away. He took his jacket off the back of his chair and threw it on. “C’mon, let’s see if we can get the Hayworths to remember what they did in the last forty-eight hours.” He saw the puzzled expression on her face and explained. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and that’ll give us the clue we need to solve this damn thing.”
“I had no idea you were an optimist,” she commented, grabbing her purse. She hurried after him.
Sam considered her remark as they walked out. “Must be the company I keep,” he decided.
Riley smiled in response.
They tracked Professor Cahil to his office at the college.
“You again?” the professor groaned as he looked up to see who was coming into his office. Biting off an oath, Cahil set aside the less-than-engrossing term paper he was reading. “Aren’t you people out of questions yet?” he asked, exasperated.
“Just a few more, Professor. It’ll be painless and we’ll be out of your hair before you know it,” Riley promised.
The professor seemed less than convinced. “Not soon enough to suit me,” he assured the two detectives. “Well, sit down.” He gestured to the two chairs before his desk. “We might as well ge
t this over with.”
Sam waited for Riley to take a seat before he sat down in his. “Can you tell us what you did the two days before the robbers came into your house?”
Suspicion narrowed the professor’s gaze. “Why?” he challenged.
This time Riley ran interference. “We’re trying to see if you and the other victims might have all done the same thing.”
Cahil had an air about him that said he didn’t consider himself to be like anyone else. That would have been too common. “Like what?”
“That’s just it,” Sam interjected. “We don’t know.”
Contempt flared in the professor’s expression. “There isn’t a hell of a whole lot you people do know, is there?”
“We know uncooperative people when we talk to them,” Riley said simply. She moved forward in her chair. “Now, you don’t like being a victim, we get it. And I’m sorry if we’re bothering you, Professor, but we’re doing our best to recover your property. But to make any headway, we need your help. Yours and the other people who were robbed.
“We’re working under the assumption that there’s some common thread, something that you all did, that pulls this together.” Her tone was polite, but firm as she said, “Now if you could please just go over the two days before the robbery in as much detail as possible, we would greatly appreciate it.” She looked at Cahil, waiting.
“Very well.”
Sighing, the professor closed his eyes. To the best of his ability, he began to summon back the two days in question.
“You’re pretty persuasive when you want to be,” Sam commented as they left the professor’s office less than twenty minutes later and walked through the visitor parking lot just beyond the criminology department’s three-story building.
Riley grinned. “As the next to the youngest of four, I found being persuasive rather essential to my survival.” She waited for Sam to unlock the doors, then got into the car. “Two down, two more to go.”
In Bed with the Badge Page 13
