Impulsive

by HelenKay Dimon

  She’d been afraid he would say that. “Okay.”

  He pressed his face close to the screen. “And people are starting to wonder why I’m screaming into a door, so could we take this inside?”

  Last thing she needed was for him to be mugged. She tried to imagine explaining that bit of news to the cops…and to Cara.

  “I’m coming.” Katie rushed over, jangling the keys in her hand as she tried to find the one for the top dead bolt. “Here we go.”

  Eric didn’t hesitate. The second she opened the screen, he pushed his way in and closed the solid door behind him. The controlling move should have made her nervous. Instead, she was strangely intrigued. Hunting her down took some work. Stepping into this neighborhood at five o’clock, which probably qualified as the middle of his workday, created a bit of mystery. Clearly he wanted to find her. Now he had.

  He held out his hand. “Eric Kimura.”

  She stared at his long fingers before sliding her palm inside his. “Oh.”

  The corner of his mouth kicked up. “But you knew that, right?”

  “Pretty much.” The feel of that smooth skin against hers brought a rush of heat to her cheeks. She looked down at their joined hands, wondering at what point long turned to too long and she had to let go. “I watch the news now and then.”

  “Ah, yes. Not always the most flattering place to pick up information about me, but not a surprise.” He frowned as if the notoriety didn’t sit all that well with him. “So, do you have a name?”

  “I figured you knew it since you tracked me here and all.”

  “I have my sources but the exact name was tougher.”

  Yeah, he had something all right. “Katie Long.”

  “The caterer.”

  Looked like he didn’t quite know everything. She dropped his hand and backed up a step. No need for them to be this close, sucking up all the air in the room, when there was a big No-Eric zone right behind her. “Her assistant and sister. I’m surprised you went to the trouble to find me.”

  His head tilted to the side. The wide-eyed look made him look younger, less imposing, if only for a few seconds. “Why?”

  This qualified as the strangest morning-after type conversation she’d ever had. “I guess this is the part where I say I’ve never done that at a wedding before.”

  He nodded. “For the record, me either.”

  “And where I insist I’m not the kind of woman who engages in thirty-minute sex romps with strangers.” She actually wasn’t, but there was no way to sell that as a convincing story after the way they’d met.

  “I’m not judging.”

  Of course he was. Hell, she was. When she’d vowed to turn her life around, she’d promised the days of putting herself at risk were over. She wouldn’t do dumb things or get involved with the wrong guys. Eric didn’t appear to be a loser, but he was most definitely wrong. He was her assignment. She was supposed to keep a safe distance and being under him didn’t cut it.

  “Maybe just a little judging?” She held up two fingers and squeezed them together.

  “Any name I call you would apply to me.”

  “Very logical.”

  “You weren’t alone in that room.”

  She tried very hard not to conjure up a visual image of his hands up her skirt. “Oh, I know.”

  “I admit, that sort of thing isn’t a weekly occurrence for me.”

  She laughed. The contrast between the serious way his brows came together and the humor in his tone did her in. He might be good at sex, but he wasn’t all that comfortable with the way they’d met.

  That made two of them.

  “You mean the straitlaced guy running for prosecuting attorney doesn’t have sex with strange women every Saturday?” she asked.

  He pretended to mull that one over. “You didn’t strike me as being all that strange.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “Look,” he crossed that invisible barrier and stepped right into her buffer space. The jokes and sly smile were gone. “I need to deal with something else here.”

  The change in direction made her brain shut down for a second. “What?”

  “You say that word a lot.”

  “How could you know that? You’ve known me for a sum total of two hours.”

  “Probably less than half that, but it was some pretty intense time.”

  She refused to blush. Women who had sex in the bathroom during a high-class wedding did not blush. “True.”

  He smiled. “Which brings us full circle.”

  For some reason when he relaxed and his mouth turned up, she got more nervous. “To what exactly?”

  “The wedding.”

  Here it was. He’d beg her to keep her mouth shut. Throw some money around, maybe a threat or two. Explain how it would be good for her to pretend it never happened.

  She’d feel smug if she weren’t so disappointed. She wasn’t expecting a marriage proposal or even a cup of coffee from the man, but being reminded of how little she meant to him chilled her from the inside out. “I was wondering when you’d get to that.”

  “Katie, I’m sorry.” He reached down and slipped his fingers through hers. The move pulled her closer, until nothing more than a slip of hot air separated them.

  “You’re…what?”

  “Honestly, do you just feel compelled to use that word?”

  She almost said “what” but stopped the word in time. “Right now, yeah.”

  Staring down at their linked hands, she wondered what was happening. She’d made a lot of bad choices with men and slept with a few she should have run away from, but none of them came walking into the middle of her out-of-control life, spouting off about regrets and how they should have treated her better. Not her experience at all.

  “I’m sorry.” When she didn’t respond, he ducked his head until her gaze met his again. “I can’t be the first man who’s ever apologized to you for something.”

  She did a quick mental check and couldn’t come up with another name for that list. “You’re sorry for the sex?”

  His mouth fell into a severe frown. “Hell no.”

  “Then I’m confused.”

  He squeezed her hand in a gentle move that mirrored the concern in his face. “Clearly.”

  “Maybe we should start this conversation again.” In a public place, with a wall between them. And no touching. Definitely no touching. His fingers swept over her skin and her good intentions went down faster than the Titanic. No woman could withstand that sort of temptation. Certainly not one with her record of questionable choices.

  “I am trying to apologize for running out of the wedding before I even got your name. That was a pretty shitty thing to do in light of what happened between us.”

  Damn, he couldn’t even describe their horizontal bathroom dancing without sounding refined. “Do you have trouble saying the word ‘sex’?”

  He smiled. “No trouble saying or doing.”

  She wasn’t sure where he was going or what he was looking for. He was either super smooth or an ass in hiding. Unfortunately both possibilities appealed to her. Everything about him appealed to her.

  Instead of crawling all over him, she went with the truth. “Admittedly, I was surprised you took a few seconds to zip your pants before you hauled it out of there.”

  He winced. “That bad, huh?”

  “Does the phrase ‘ass on fire’ tell you anything?”

  “Only that I need to work on my skills.”

  She had no complaints in that department. None. At. All. “So, now what?”

  “Depends. Is my apology accepted?”

  Her heart started pounding. The noise drowned out the doubts and questions ringing in her ears. It thundered through her until it muffled everything else. “Is this really why you’re here?”

  “Why else would I track you down?”

  “I have no idea. Unless you’ve wiped out crime on Oahu, I’m guessing you have work to do, and I figure there are other women
who take up your time. Why you’d spare a few minutes to come over here is, well, let’s just say I don’t get it.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “Actually I am.”

  “Do you own a mirror?”

  That’s all it took. A simple bit of flattery and she fell right into her old pattern. She recognized it, heard the warning signal screech through her brain…and ignored it all.

  “Is it possible you’re really here for this?” She stepped into him then, pressed her chest against his as she lifted her chin and brought her mouth to the whisper of space right under his.

  “Katie?”

  “What?”

  He smiled then. “I didn’t come for a booty call.”

  She knew when a man was interested. This guy had it written all over him. “So you’re saying no?”

  His gaze toured her face, landing on her mouth. “I’m not an idiot.”

  He mumbled the denial right before his head lowered and his lips brushed against hers. For the second time, an engulfing heat swept through him. He’d had sex before. Hell, he’d had great sex before, but there was something about Katie that rubbed him raw and sent a blast of want shooting through him.

  At thirty-seven he’d passed his need-sex-all-the-time phase long ago. Now he preferred a mix of hot and comfort, a woman who could set his nerves blazing and hold an intelligent conversation afterward. But Katie brought out something else in him. A memory of that time before responsibility and politics when he could just enjoy without worrying about how it would play out or who would care.

  Gentle kissing turned hot before he could calm it down. One minute he was tasting her with small kisses on the corners of her mouth, getting to know her nice and slow. The next, his hands traced up and down her back as his tongue swept inside.

  Like last time, reason abandoned him. His body overruled his mind. Before common sense stepped in and screwed up everything, he walked her backward until her butt smacked against the island. He tugged on material, hoping to push aside her shirt and find bare skin, but he pulled out a towel instead. The surprise made his head pop up and his lips leave her delicious neck.

  “What the hell is this?”

  She grabbed the cloth and threw it somewhere behind her. “Forget that.”

  He obeyed. Hell, he’d do anything if it meant she’d keep raking those fingernails up and down his sides and across his stomach. Even through his cotton shirt, he felt the bite. To encourage her to continue, he shrugged out of his suit jacket and let it fall to the floor. That left little clothing between them and what was there was easy to remove.

  As his mouth toured the line under her chin, his hands tugged her shirt out of her shorts and pulled it up and over her head. Warm skin greeted his fingertips. The more he caressed, the hotter she turned. Lips against lips and hands skimming, they touched everywhere it was possible to touch without his climbing all over her. But he planned on doing just that.

  Their bodies separated long enough for her to find the buttons of his shirt and him to work on the snap to her shorts. No bed, no finesse, just a raging need that nearly ripped the cotton in his rush to get her out of her clothes.

  As soon as the shorts hit the floor, he hooked his palm under her knee and lifted her left thigh until it rested against his hip. With her legs open, he could slip his fingers under her and rub against the crotch of her panties. Just like last time, a wetness greeted him after only a few teasing strokes.

  Her head fell back to give him free access to her neck, but her hands kept moving. She wrapped her arms around his waist and let her palms fall down to cup his ass. The position slid his erection against her. They fit together so damn well. It only took a few seconds for her hips to rock back and forth in a rhythm that thumped in his brain.

  She deserved something better than a quick hump on a butcher-block island, but he didn’t have the control to take her anywhere else. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he could slow down long enough to drop his pants to the floor.

  Just then her fingers slipped around to his belt. A few tugs and she had it undone and his fly hanging open. “This feels familiar.”

  He thought about answering her, but she seemed to be talking more to the room than to him. And with her hand in his underwear and air crashing through his lungs, a conversation wasn’t exactly the first thing on his mind.

  She jumped up on the counter behind her and shimmied out of her bikini bottoms with a swiftness that won his immediate approval. “Condom?”

  “Huh?” Damn, the woman had him panting and mumbling like a moron.

  She opened her legs and pulled him closer. Before he could reach down and help, she had his erection in her palm and was pumping him into a state of complete stupidity. “You were prepared last time.”

  “Yeah, right. I have one,” he said, not knowing how he got the words out over the moan aching to escape his throat.

  “You just one of those guys who always has one ready?”

  “Not even close.” When she shot him a give-me-a-break look, he tried to explain. Hard to do when all he wanted was to be inside her, but he gave it a shot. “A friend gave me one as a joke before the wedding.”

  She reached around with her open hand and lifted his wallet out of his back pocket. “And this time?”

  Eric grabbed the leather and fumbled with the folds until the small packet popped out. Not the smoothest he’d ever been, but he’d worry about his pathetic moves later. “Call it wishful thinking.”

  “I prefer to think of you as prepared.”

  “Whatever. Just roll that on and get moving.” When she frowned at him, he inhaled a few times to slow the blood racing through him and straight to his dick. “Sorry.”

  She chuckled. “You’re forgiven this time.”

  He couldn’t remember her being this chatty at the wedding…ahh, but he did remember that. “Your hand feels so good on me.”

  She slid her palm up and down, using just the right amount of pressure, sliding her thumb over his tip until he jerked in response. “I like a man who plays as hard as he works.”

  Her words tumbled over him but didn’t process. He was too busy taking advantage of her position. Spread out in front of him, she provided quite the temptation. One he did not fight.

  His fingers rubbed against her, each circle making her internal muscles pulse and strain. When he finally slid his finger inside, she let out a long sigh.

  “Like that?” he asked.

  She rolled the condom over him. “You can’t tell?”

  No, the breathy tone said all he needed to know. So did her slick wetness under his fingertips.

  As gently as possible, with his hand shaking, he lifted her hand away from his cock and took over. He pressed the tip against her, brushed it back and forth until her thighs tensed against his hips.

  Her head fell forward and her warm breath licked across his cheek. She smelled like fresh pastries and cinnamon. “Now, Eric.”

  “Almost.”

  When she grabbed his butt and pulled him even closer, he guessed she didn’t like his answer. Couldn’t blame her. His heart pumped fast enough to knock him over. Rather than risk a heart attack, he pushed forward until he fit fully inside her.

  “God, yes.” She bit down on his ear.

  There was no stopping now. No way to pull back or go slow. The lower half of his body was running this show.

  Her hands traveled over him as her mouth settled on top of his. Lean legs wrapped around his waist. Fingers plowed through his hair. She branded him with every part of her body. She didn’t hold back as she coaxed him into a faster cadence.

  He fought for breath as his hips flexed, bringing his body in and out of hers in time with the pounding in his chest. Kissing, plunging, it all circled around him until the spring inside him coiled into a tight ball.

  And he wasn’t alone.

  Katie’s fingernails dug into his shoulders, pinching his skin and pushing him to that line between pain and pleasure. Her butt lifted
off the counter and her thighs squeezed his middle while every muscle inside her tightened. With her arms around his neck, her forehead pressed against his as her breaths puffed out.

  He caressed her nipples through the silky material of her bra. Touching her, feeling her body pulse around him, took him right to the edge. But he held back, forcing his lower half to slow down to make the wave last as long as possible.

  He didn’t have to wait long. Her body bucked and stiffened. The orgasm ripped through her just as his touched off. Churning, panting, he drove into her one final time. The tension peaked right before the straining broke loose. He came in a rush, every cell screaming as his body slumped against hers.

  Seconds or minutes—he didn’t know which—passed before he felt the scratch of her fingernails up his bare back. Her limbs relaxed and her lips moved against his throat.

  “You still sorry?” She mumbled the question against his damp skin.

  After one last inhale of the floral scent of her shampoo, he lifted his head. “Not even a little bit.”

  “You going to run away again?”

  He’d already been gone from work longer than expected. “Well, no. Not like you think.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Her voice sounded like he’d better be.

  “Look, I don’t want to get accused of the ‘ass on fire’ thing again, but I do have to get back to the office.” He glanced around. Saw their clothes thrown on the floor and a stack of dishes in the sink. “But I’ll help out here first.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  When he looked into her eyes again, he met with a piercing stare. “What?”

  She shoved against his shoulders, separating them and pulling back as far as the counter would allow. “Nothing.”

  All the heat seeped out of the room. The sudden chill had him reaching for the buttons on his shirt. “I’m thinking I messed up again.”

  She tugged on the edge of her T-shirt, as if trying to hide from him. “Aren’t you the clever one?”

  “I rarely get out of the office before seven.”

  Conflicting emotions raced across her face. Distrust and hope. She watched him as if assessing and deciphering his motives.

  “I can have my assistant call you if you need verification.” He smiled, hoping to bring some lightness back into the room. “Have her write it down and notarize it for you.”