by Joanne Rock
A faint smile curved her lips.
“And second, sex doesn’t have to have an end result. It’s not a competitive sport, right? Anything that happens tonight is a bonus and it should be fun.”
He hoped he said the right things to put her at ease. And not just because he didn’t want to miss out on a chance to be with her, he realized. He hated the idea that a woman who’d lost so many other things in her divorce would have also lost her sexual confidence.
“Fun?” She lifted a brow. “I wouldn’t call the itchy, crawl-out-of-my-skin feeling that I’m having right now fun.”
All at once his altruistic notions for the night fled. Beneath his hands her shoulders rose and fell with her breath, her body vibrantly alive and—he now knew—as hungry for him as he was for her.
“But it will be,” he whispered, very ready to deliver on his promises. “Just you wait and see.”
He bent to kiss her, lips grazing her mouth as gently as he could manage considering how much he ached for her. Sure it had been a long time for him, but banishing Tabitha’s worries ranked as way more important than indulging what he wanted right now.
He kissed her that way for a long time, getting a feel for what she liked, exploring every nuance of her mouth to learn what pleased her best. The room was dim and he found himself longing to see more of her, to see her better than the shadowed bedroom would allow. She might be a body double in her work world, but she was the undisputed star of this show and he wanted to enjoy every last inch of her.
She was hot and sweet at the same time, her kisses tentative at first and then more aggressive as he prolonged them. He relished the feel of her fingers flexing restlessly against his chest, nails gently scraping through the dark cynicism he showed the rest of the world to the man he was beneath.
“More,” she whispered as she broke the kiss, her eyes glinting with a feverish light he could see even through the shadows. “I’m ready for more.”
“You and me both.” He growled the words more fiercely than he’d intended, but it wasn’t easy to pace himself when it had been a hell of a long time since he’d been with a woman. He bent to kiss her neck in the hollow of her throat and felt her pulse race beneath his lips.
Her fingers walked up his chest to curve around his neck, her warm skin smooth and soft. The scent of her surrounded him, intensified by the heat in the room, the heat of them.
He could see the dark intent in her eyes, the need that had chased away her reservations. He couldn’t wait to blast every last vestige of that hesitation from her mind until she unraveled for him completely.
“No, you don’t understand.” Tabitha stared into Warren’s eyes and willed him to feel what she was feeling. Sometime during the kiss she’d started to tremble inside and her body felt so close to that magical precipice she was almost scared to reveal it for fear of ruining their night together.
But she was being honest with him, damn it. And herself. She owed it to them both.
At his blank look, she picked up his hand from where it rested on her shoulder and moved it to cover her breast. Oh, yes. That felt delicious and she wanted more of his hands on her. There was no way he could miss the response of her body and the man needed to understand she was ready to go.
For as long as she felt this connection between them, she wanted to run with it. Revel in it. Wring every sweet second she could out of the feeling.
“I’m so close and I just need a little—”
She didn’t even get to finish her words.
Warren understood what she wanted, his hand vanishing from her breast to slip underneath her skirt and up her thigh. The bold possessiveness of his hands made her legs quiver as he gripped her bottom with one hand, pulling her closer.
Heat suffused her cheeks. Her chest. Her thighs. She was so close and the fact that Warren seemed to anticipate her climax nudged her still closer to that sexual high. His warm fingers skimmed her panties as he whispered low sweet words in her ear. Words of wanting. Words about how hot she looked.
And oooh. There she went.
Her knees went out from under her and she wouldn’t have been able to stand if not for his strong arms holding her up. He massaged every last devastating spasm out of her, his fingers never even dipping below her undies. The man played her like an instrument, his deft touch finding exactly what she wanted before she could even form the desire for herself.
“My God, you’re beautiful.” He’d spoken softly in her ear for some minutes, but that was the first statement she understood clearly after the most intense moments of her orgasm subsided.
The words soothed her soul, assuring her he wasn’t mad about her oddly timed climax. He spoke to her like a man who was seriously turned on by it.
“I promise I’m going to be that good to you in return.” She began to work on his shirt buttons, savoring each small release of fabric as she worked her way down his chest, revealing more and more of his hard male strength.
“You don’t need to promise me anything. That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” He slipped his hand out from under her skirt to return to her sweater, picking up where he left off with seamless thoroughness as he went about undressing her.
She ran her palm up the middle of his chest as she took his shirt off, taking pleasure from the freedom of access her work had given her.
His low groan rolled right through her, strengthening her determination to simply enjoy this chemistry between them for as long as it lasted. His fingers worked magic on her buttons, far faster than she’d managed with his, and in no time, her sweater slid off her shoulders to the guest room floor in a heap of creamy cashmere.
For a long moment they stood there in a silent face-off, their ragged breaths the only sound besides the traffic on the street below. She didn’t feel exposed. No, she felt empowered with Warren’s hot gaze on her, undressing her with his eyes.
“What are you thinking?” She nudged one bra strap over her shoulder, eager to shed every last scrap of clothing for his benefit.
For hers.
“I think I can have you naked in two seconds. Maybe less.” His eyes burned with an inner heat as he seemed to assess the logistics of her clothing.
It struck her as ironic that she’d been forcing herself into the body double work for months to get more comfortable with herself again and to prove that she was desirable on some level, yet Warren had accomplished that in days. Hours, even. His desire for her meant so much more than capturing a fickle camera’s lens.
His hands were on her in no time, unhooking the clasp of her bra and lowering the zipper on her skirt until everything fell away but her panties and the high-heeled boots she’d worn to ward of New York’s chill. The combination of silk thong at her hips and leather on her legs felt deliciously naughty as she stepped out of her skirt, following him across the room to the daybed strewn with extra blankets and pillows folded in a jumble of navy-and-white piles.
He spun her around so the fronts of her thighs leaned into the mattress and her back arched against his chest. Her new view was a painting of a farm house on a river in the mountains, a pretty piece of artwork that didn’t compare to her former view of Warren.
Her rump settled into his groin, alerting her to how much he’d been holding back. The heft of his shaft was unmistakable as he lined up against her backside, the tip of him nudging the small of her back. She didn’t have enough time to explore the sensation, however, because he swept her hair to one side to kiss the back of her neck.
His tongue traced the curve of her spine there, sending ripples of sensation down her whole body. His hands wound around her to cup her breasts and tease the taut nipples. She melted into his arms, leaning into him, her hips grinding with more urgency. The warmth between her legs made her panties damp with want and she reached behind her to find his belt buckle.
Hands fumbling, she wrestled with the clasp, her job made all the more difficult when he released her breasts to cover her belly with one broad palm. The
ache in her womb clenched hard in response and she had to let go of his fly long enough to lower the zipper inch by tantalizing inch.
The climax that had blindsided her only minutes ago didn’t take half the edge off her hunger for him. She wriggled against him, savoring the feel of him between her legs and wanting more.
“I brought a condom,” she blurted, needing to feel him deep inside her before pleasure seized her all over again. This time when she came, she wanted him to be buried between her thighs.
She’d dropped the condom in her purse when she packed up her apartment earlier in a fit of hopeful optimism. Now, she dug into the small bag on the bed and flipped the packet onto the covers like a gauntlet.
He wasted no time in retrieving it. His hand dipped below her waist, pausing at the line where her thong met her skin. Her hands fluttered restlessly around his, not sure how much control she could relinquish without freezing up. In her experience, sex could be a battleground and she didn’t want that to happen with Warren when he made her feel so incredibly good.
But before she could worry that thought to pieces, Warren cupped her sex in one broad palm. Her knees sagged beneath her and she fell forward into the bed, her body steadied by his other hand. Thoughts fled from her brain, chased out by an overload of pure sensation. Warren’s grip on her waist, his fingers plucking at her sex through her soaked panties, his thighs burning an imprint on the backs of her…Those sensory impressions were all her mind could absorb. All she wanted to absorb.
He spread her legs with his knees, opening her to him, exposing her completely. She felt the ridge of his cock against her cleft and her nether lips swelled. Their positions made it impossible for her to see him, but somehow that seemed to help her forget everything but the pleasure of the act. She closed her eyes now to savor the feel of him, tugging aside her panties, fingers sliding easily along her wetness to circle her clit.
She stilled at the sudden onslaught of heady response, the tightness inside her almost foreign after being absent for so long. She could feel herself on the verge of a release she hadn’t experienced in a staggeringly long time. A twinge of guilt pricked her conscience that she could feel this way now, for a man she’d only just met, when she hadn’t been able to find release with her ex. But that niggling thought couldn’t begin to slow the rapid build of delicious anticipation.
“Do you like that, Tabitha?” He steadied her hips as he aligned himself to take her and she could only nod mutely in response.
No wonder she’d been hard to please in bed, she thought vaguely. She couldn’t even vocalize her wants or say what pleased her. Yet Warren seemed to know despite her silence, his seduction of her senses was so complete she could swear he knew what was in her head better than she did.
She reached back to guide him inside her, wanting to contribute something to their joining but not quite knowing how. He shuddered when her hand stroked him, giving her the courage to circle the base of him as he edged his way into her.
A low groan wrenched free from her throat as she expanded by slow degrees to accommodate the breadth of him. The muscles of his thighs flexed hard as he held himself in check and she savored the way her body responded. He was all solid planes and ridges to her soft curves and she seemed to flow around him as he entered her fully.
The impact of his possession struck her then as she arched back into him. She’d allowed this man—a stranger in so many ways—to take her home, to take her in the most elemental fashion, giving him facets of herself she’d never shown to anyone before. There had to be a reason she hadn’t been able to give over control like this before, but she didn’t know what it was or why. She only knew she loved giving this sexy, powerful cop control tonight and her body responded to his dominance with undeniable pleasure.
His body curved around hers now, claiming her breasts with strong, kneading hands as he caressed and tweaked her aching nipples. The scent of him, of them, of sex, surrounded her, and she opened her eyes long enough to see the stark contrast of his hands, tanned even in the winter, against the pale skin of her belly before dipping into the trimmed thatch of red curls between her thighs. The scrap of lace that was her thong remained obediently to one side of her mound as he claimed her with each thrust.
Heart skipping sporadic beats in a race to send blood to all the highly sensitized regions of her body, Tabitha couldn’t catch her breath as she watched him expose her clit to his questing fingers.
“Please,” she murmured half to herself and half to him, not wanting the exquisite build to end. “Please, please, please.”
“You please me, too, baby. Too much.” He withdrew from her longer this time, drawing out the moment as he circled the tight nub where all her pleasure centered.
She fell forward into the pillows, unable to touch him or watch him or do anything else but feel what he did to her. It was so good, so lush, so decadently wicked she wanted to scream. And when he thrust into her again, impossibly hard and thick and filling her to bursting, she did scream. Waves of liquid pleasure flowed over her in a sensual tide, dragging her deep into uncharted terrain where she couldn’t remember her own name but she could cry out his.
Only his.
The force of her release staggered her, her fingers clutching the nearest pillow as sweet spasms shook her. Warren went with her a moment later, his body surging deeply into hers one last time before he found his finish, too.
She wanted to weep with relief that she wasn’t frigid, that she could have hot, incredible sex and find pleasure in the act. Her ex had made her doubt herself on so many levels it was tremendously rewarding to be able to disprove this one that was probably at the heart of many others.
“Thank you.” She hadn’t meant to necessarily speak the words aloud, but once it was out there, she was glad she had.
She needed to open up more. To speak her mind after holding her thoughts in for so long.
“The pleasure was all mine, believe me.” He withdrew from her but managed to keep touching her even while he shoved the extra blankets off the bed and pulled one up to cover them as they laid down together.
She rolled to face him, the lamp beside the bed still allowing her to see his face even though it was long past midnight. She’d be tired for her shoot in the morning, but she couldn’t find it in her heart to care.
Right now, all she wanted to do was revel in this feeling of completeness before it wore away. And she knew it wouldn’t last. As good as it had been between them, she knew she wasn’t ready for anything more after the way her marriage had devastated her heart. Her soul.
For the time being, great sex was enough. In fact, it might be exactly what she needed to get through the night now that she had good reason to believe someone wanted her dead.
CHAPTER 7
WARREN WASN’T SURPRISED to wake up alone.
The clock near the guest bed said it was 5:00 a.m., but he could hear Tabitha in the next room opening kitchen cabinets and he could smell the coffee she’d made. At least she hadn’t fled the apartment. Just his bed.
He showered in record time, counting on morning-after etiquette to keep her in his place until he was dressed. Then again, maybe she wasn’t as wigged out by their time together as he’d been. As he brushed his teeth and swiped the fog off the bathroom mirror, he admitted to himself that he’d been caught off guard by the sense of connection he’d felt to Tabitha last night when they’d agreed on strictly no-strings.
“Desserts only” suited him better than she could ever guess since he hadn’t intended a dinner invitation to become some kind of deep relationship. He’d always figured his effed up childhood had left him without the emotional capacity to have a serious commitment and his marriage to Melinda had proven it in no uncertain terms.
Besides, he’d appointed himself Tabitha’s protector until he could pinpoint the creep who was watching her and developing a relationship with someone he was supposed to guard was pushing the boundaries of his personal ethics.
Tha
t had to be what was bugging him, he reasoned as he buttoned his shirt and followed the scent of coffee into the kitchen. He figured he was keyed up anyway because it had been a while since he’d played an active role in the field and the job was churning up the same old crap from the past that he would never fully put behind him.
That was another reason Melinda had left. A reason he hadn’t shared with Tabitha since it would mean sharing so much more. Damn.
He walked past Buster still snoozing on the floor, since he’d taken the dog out in the middle of the night before he’d fallen asleep next to Tabitha. The dog’s eyes opened enough to recognize Warren before sliding closed again.
“Morning.” He spotted Tabitha in front of a bookcase in the living room. She wore a long purple skirt and white man’s dress shirt and was studying a photograph of Warren and his brother.
The sucker punches from the past just kept coming. And why the hell did he have photos out anyway? The damn guys with the antique store had talked him into giving them some old pictures for their “too fabulous for words” frames and he—being a sucker who never had company anyway—had done it to shut them up.
“Morning.” She smiled as she resituated the silver frame back on the shelf, her long hair spilling forward as she leaned over. “Just checking out the family album. This guy has to be related to you, right?”
She probably thought she was doing him a favor by making small talk about family so they didn’t have to delve into the murky waters of where they stood with one another now. She had no idea what treacherous terrain she waded into with one simple question.
“He’s my older brother. Andy.” He tried to smile and hoped she’d change the subject. He even turned on his heel to grab a cup of coffee.
“Did he go into the family business?” she called as he disappeared into the kitchen. “I remember you said something about investments last night.”
